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COLONIALISM AS A FACTOR IN THE DEVELOPMENT OF SOUTHERN AFRICAN INDIGENOUS VERNACULAR ARCHITECTURE 1810-1910Franco Frescura ABSTRACTOver the past two hundred years the built environment of southern Africa's indigenous inhabitants has undergone a number of important alterations. This includes the adoption of new building technologies, the development of new dwelling forms and decorative motifs and the evolution of new settlement patterns. Many western observers have been quick to attribute such changes to the external influence of immigrant whites to the region. Such commentators however generally base their observations upon factors of outward, aesthetic, and therefore ephemeral, nature whilst generally ignoring the processes of folk architecture and the socio-political and economic factors underlying the structuring of rural settlements. When these are taken into account it becomes clear that indigenous architecture consists of a number of spaces and axes which act as a clear mirror to the social hierarchies, economic activities, cultural patterns, religious beliefs and cosmological values of its builders as a whole. As such these have remained little altered by outside influences save where the values of the people themselves have undergone change, not necessarily as a result of contact with western European culture. Within this larger framework however there have occurred a number of alterations in local building technology, dwelling form and decorative motif which must undoubtedly be ascribed to a process of cultural cross-pollination. Such innovations were the result of indigenous society coming into contact, from about 1810 onwards, with the material culture of increasing numbers of travellers, missionaries, military personnel, government agents and traders, each of whom played a key role in the process of colonialisation. Although, in many cases, such changes did not become evident until well after 1910, the century preceding this was crucial in creating the social, political and economic preconditions which made them possible. In this paper I set out to examine, in particular, the effects which the work of three groups of people, the missionaries, the government agents and the traders, had upon rural society and the manner in which these manifested themselves in the rural architecture of the region. I also pay particular attention to the imposition of a Hut Tax upon indigenous families and the effects this had upon the fabric of rural life. INTRODUCTIONWhen the first colonial settlement at the Cape was established under the Dutch in 1652, these immigrants inevitably also brought with them a knowledge of their own building technologies and domestic dwelling styles. Although these were quickly tempered by local conditions, their architecture prospered and rapidly developed an identity in its own right. With time white settlement spread into the interior, not only coming into increasing contact with the Khoikhoi, but in the process also displacing them from their pastoral lands. It was a while, however, before any changes in indigenous housing patterns could be noted. Indeed, the presence of a white architectural influence in rural southern Africa was only to manifest itself many years later with the emergence of a number of new dwelling forms as well as the introduction of new building technologies and materials into the local habitat. One of the more obvious such changes has been the adoption by the indigenous builder of the square plan dwelling. Although its aesthetic is overtly European, a study of its historical development reveals it to be the end-product of a long series of transformations in the social and economic life of the rural community. Stated briefly, its creation was the result of semi-urban concentrations of population which, in many cases, brought about a depletion of local building resources, most specifically thatching grass. The search for alternative roofing materials led to the introduction of corrugated roof sheeting which, although malleable enough to be adapted to the needs of a conical roof, ultimately brought about the introduction of the square plan. This transformation was facilitated further by the use of industrially-produced artifacts which, being based upon a 90° degree geometry, made the internal furnishing of circular-plan dwellings both difficult and inefficient. Historically we also know that the use of a rectangular plan in indigenous architecture preceded that of the square plan. Thus, while it is possible to link both dwelling forms to an availability of western technology and furnishings, the chronology of introduction of a rectangular plan is not consistent with the parallel social and economic changes in rural life which it implies. The conclusion therefore is that the rectangular plan was a direct borrowing from an outside culture, made out of context of indigenous social and economic patterns. The square plan, on the other hand, can be seen to be the natural outcome of a local developmental process where this form is linked economically and technologically to other indigenous dwelling forms. Although small this case study is significant for it indicates the presence of "direct" as well as "indirect" immigrant influences upon southern Africa's built environment. For the purposes of this paper, I not only wish to differentiate between the two but, moreover, it is my contention that, in the long run, it was the hidden influences which were to bring about fundamental structural changes in the region's architecture whilst the overt influences were to have little more than a cosmetic and ephemeral effect. The existence of a direct immigrant influence upon the indigenous built environment becomes evident among the Khoi of the western Cape from about the eighteenth century onwards. This usually involved the construction of rectangular plan structures, either gable or hip roofed, derived directly from the neighbouring Dutch. Sparrman visited one such in the Outeniquas in 1775 and wrote that: "We then went into their houses without delay or molestation, some of which were built of straw in a square form with shelving roofs, like the cottages of the slaves." (Sparrman, 1975) It is not known whether this "borrowing" can be considered to have reflected an element of "status" among the local Khoi. Certainly the constructional technology involved most specifically that of the roof had no parallels in the indigenous architecture of that time, nor is there evidence that the Khoi dwelling form ever underwent a process of gradual development. On the other hand it was round about this time that European artifacts were beginning to percolate through into Khoi society. Sparrman recorded that once he found his servants fast asleep "on a little bench" inside a mat hut, while in 1775 he visited a local Khoi chief in the Riet Valley, where the traditional dwelling was "so roomy as to allow a bed chamber and wardrobe being parted off from it by means of mats." (Sparrman, 1975) Regrettably information on this subject is sparse and it is not known to what degree the above examples comply with the general norm or whether they are merely single instances. From about 1800 onwards references to the Khoi building rectangular plan dwellings become more frequent. Although some of these are known to have been erected on white-controlled farmlands, the majority appear to have been located in the grounds of mission stations such as Genadendal, Sak River, Pella, Hardcastle and Klaarwater (Griquatown), to mention but a few. The construction of this domestic form should therefore be considered in the context of missionary endeavour in this region. The existence of an indirect immigrant influence can, on the other hand, be perceived to have been part of a much slower and long-term chain of events involving material, technological, social and economic transition in the southern African hinterland. Being an evolutionary process, it did not seek the radical supplant of an existing architectural tradition; it did not directly try to undermine existing social structures; it cannot even be said to have been identified with any conscious movement or motivated by a strong ideology. It took place from the 1820s onwards as part of a wider historical development which derived deeply from its traditional roots, both architectural and social. This means that although the rural builder of today does construct square and rectangular plan dwellings, as well as many other types, he considers these to be part of his wider repertoire of domestic forms, having been derived locally and as the result of internal pressures (Frescura, 1981). The transition from circular to square plan involved various stages of development which, in some areas, took many generations to achieve. Most important however is the fact that such changes were brought about without there having been any consequent devaluation of the social and economic pressures and values inherent in vernacular architecture. In architectural terms it will be seen that the structure of the circular plan and that of the square plan are closely linked and part of the same technological tradition. The rectangular plan and the resolution of its load distributions, on the other hand, require the use of a totally different roof technology. It could be argued however that in some areas, such as the northern Cape, the development process of indigenous architecture has continued to the point where, today, the rectangular plan has also been incorporated into the indigenous range of dwelling forms. The manner in which change can be perceived to have occurred in the indigenous architectures of the Cape and the southern African interior respectively therefore stands then in sharp contrast to each other. In the case of the former, we find that Khoi society, through the very nature of its traditions, land values and economic make up, was easily dispossessed of its grazing land and forced to accept changes to its building traditions without undergoing a period of adjustment and reorientation. In the latter case however, the people were possessed of a different system of land economy and thus were better equipped to withstand the threat of white colonial expansion. This had the effect of softening to a large extent the impact of the two cultures coming together. Although changes in the economic and social structuring of indigenous society can ultimately be perceived to have occurred, these were not brought about in rapid order but were part of a slow process of adaptation which is continuing to the present day. A DIRECT ARCHITECTURAL INFLUENCEThe existence of a direct white immigrant influence upon the indigenous architecture of southern Africa is perhaps nowhere better typified than by the introduction of three major dwelling types:
a. The Kapsteilhuis and the Hardbieshuis.Little is currently known as to the exact origins of the kapsteilhuis, but its presence in the vicinity of Cape Town in c1680 would seem to confirm its immigrant and Dutch roots (Fitchett, pers comm 1982). In its earlier years it appears to have been a popular structure among white farmers, probably serving as a temporary dwelling or produce shed. By the 1840s its use had spread to the Khoi on Cape mission stations as well as missionaries and settlers further north in the OFS and the northern Cape. In at least one instance, it was seen by Backhouse to be serving an interim or transitionary function among the Khoi of Groenekloof (Mamre), as they moved from their traditional mat hut to the more conventional cottage. (Backhouse, 1844) The use of this structure however was not limited to the Dutch or the Khoi for the English settlers to the eastern Cape also employed it as an interim shelter. (Lewcock, 1963) The interrelationship between the indigenous Khoi and immigrant Dutch farmers is further illustrated by the fact that the hardbieshuis was to become identified with the trekboer movement into the OFS and Natal from the 1840s onwards whilst at the same time becoming integrated into the Cape stereotype of Griqua and Koranna architecture. They continued to be built by the former well into the 1870s and, in some isolated instances, possibly even later. Interestingly enough this dwelling form does not appear to have gained in usage among indigenous groups further north until comparatively recent times when kapsteil-like structures using corrugated iron sheeting have been recorded in the vicinity of Mafikeng, in the northern Cape, and in some parts of Lesotho (Frescura, 1981). b. The Cape CottageThis domestic form was derived from the European medieval "long house", which also served as a base for the development of a local "Cape Dutch" tradition. The structure usually consisted of a rectangular plan, having one or two rooms, with a hipped or gable-ended roof. It came to be associated with white farmer and missionary settlement throughout the nineteenth and early part of the twentieth centuries. Although there are a number of documented cases where the indigenous construction of cottage dwellings took place from as early as 1775 this was usually done at the instigation and under the guidance of missionaries. The earliest examples known to date of the indigenous occupation of a cottage dwelling have been recorded on such mission stations as Genadendal in 1811, Pella in 1813, Zuurbraak in 1836 and the Kat River Settlement in 1839. It appears that this dwelling form had little impact upon the indigenous architecture of the southern African hinterland until well into the twentieth century. Early examples of these structures are recorded as having been built by white traders and soldiers for such local luminaries as Sechele in c1873, Chetshwayo in c1879 and Lobengula in c1880. Apart from these however little is known of them until the 1900s, when they began to be built in Lesotho (Walton, 1956) and the northern Cape as well as the Transkei, Zululand and the highveld region. In most cases they appear to have been a rough and immediate translation from the white vernacular but in at least one area, in the northern Cape and southern Botswana, a certain amount of experimentation seems to have taken place with the length of ridge and the building of the trusses. c. The Brakdak, or Flat-Roofed Parapet Dwelling.This is a dwelling which, in its earliest form, was a direct adaptation of the two-roomed Cape cottage. However, over the past two centuries, it has become associated with a number of urban as well as rural environments. Its origins may be traced back to Cape Town as early as 1717 (Frescura, 1989) but its emergence as a one or two-roomed, single storey cottage associated with the Malay community did not come about until later that century. Originally this consisted of a central doorway giving onto a living/kitchen area with a sleeping room located to one side of it. Roof construction often consisted of 25-35mm yellowwood or deal boarding placed on heavy beams. A crushed brick aggregate was laid next and finished with three coats of shell-lime and sea-shells. This method of construction suffered severely from water-exclusion problems (Lewcock, 1963), most particularly in Cape Town with its wet and cold winters. However as the colony began to spread inland, this dwelling form was found to be ideal for the more arid conditions of the interior and soon began to be identified with the Dutch farmers of the Karoo, becoming part of their architectural literacy. As the northward migration of white farmers and missionaries continued into the OFS and the Transvaal, knowledge of this dwelling form rapidly expanded into these areas. Its spread during the latter half of the nineteenth century was also facilitated to a large extent by the introduction, in the early 1860s, of corrugated iron sheeting imported from Britain (Radford, pers comm 1982). The technical and economic performance of this material soon proved to be vastly superior to that of a number of other waterproofing methods which had been tried previously in the Cape. Although at first its availability was limited to the larger urban areas, by the 1870s and 1880s, following the opening of the Kimberley diamond fields and the Transvaal gold fields, it rapidly spread into the southern African interior. There it found widespread usage in both the domestic and industrial sectors. Inevitably it was only a matter of time before it was to find its way into the hands of rural builders. The earliest pictorial record found to date of the rural use of corrugated iron on black residential structures is at Kimberley in about 1905 where Khoi-like domed dwellings were covered with a variety of materials including some metal sheeting. Householders in other, smaller urban areas, such as Bethlehem in the Orange River Colony, were not slow to follow. The adoption of corrugated iron into black rural architecture was a gradual process. Very little of it is evident in the photography of Duggan-Cronin in the 1920s and the 1930s and it only emerges as a force in indigenous building from about the 1940s onwards. At that stage its use predominated on the central highveld region, becoming identified with the housing of farm workers but in more recent times it has begun to spread into the northern Cape, central Transvaal and some parts of Natal and Transkei. Its use in conjunction with a parapet wall however appears to have remained limited to the northern OFS and southern Transvaal areas. Mention should also be made of the fact that, since the early 1970s, the flat-roofed dwelling has become associated with the emergence of squatter settlements about southern Africa's major urban and industrial areas. The basic lean-to shelter is quick and economical to erect and its modular nature lends itself to the core-house principle. SOME INDIRECT ARCHITECTURAL INFLUENCESa. Wall Building TechnologyPerhaps the greatest single contribution to indigenous architecture which was made by white immigrants to southern Africa was in the field of technological innovation. Almost from the very outset, a lack of transport infrastructure and the distance of many settlements from the coastal ports forced new settlers to rely almost totally upon local materials and personal expertise for their first dwellings. Livingstone wrote in c1857 that: "The entire absence of shops led us to make everything we needed from the raw materials. You want bricks to build a house, and must forthwith proceed to the field, cut down a tree, and saw it into planks to make the brick-moulds; the materials for doors and windows too, are standing in the forest; ..." (Livingstone, 1857) A lack of suitable timber was also a serious handicap to many of these early settlers. Some opted temporarily for the predominant method of indigenous wall construction: wattle and daub. Others however preferred to experiment in a technology they felt more familiar with, clay or sod bricks, often under unfavourable local conditions, leading to some unavoidable disasters, such as that described by Daumas who, writing at Mekoatleng in 1838, complained that: "The building having collapsed, because of the great rains which we have had since the beginning of the year, I found myself compelled, however reluctantly, to close the school." (Germond, 1967) It is difficult to determine just how influential these early settlers were in bringing about changes to local building traditions. It is true that missionaries regarded themselves as being part of a larger civilizing influence which sought to undermine those facets of indigenous culture which they deemed to be "heathen". This included, by implication, certain aspects of architecture and settlement pattern but does not appear to have involved constructional methods. Also missionaries were but a small, if influential, proportion of the total immigrant population and it is doubtful that other whites saw themselves in a similar role. Therefore technological innovation must have occurred more by a process of employment and practical tuition than through some kind of mysterious cultural osmosis or moral example. This opinion is reinforced by the "Guide to the Transvaal" of 1878 which stated that "On all farms, brick clay is found; the farmers make their own bricks, and most of the natives are skilled in this labour." (Becker, 1878) As by that date the history of any missionary presence in the area could not have exceeded one generation in time, the likelihood that brick-making had permeated into indigenous black society through the formers’ agency is highly unlikely. On the other hand the Guide also points out that every farmer was allowed to employ up to ten Black labourers free of taxation and that: "On large farms it is customary to allow the heads of the (indigenous) families, engaged on the farm, a few acres of ground, to till for their own use, and on a portion of which they erect their cottages ..." (Becker, 1878) A point which should also be considered is the fact that indigenous terminology for the brick is virtually universal. The Nguni use the word isitena, the Sotho, ditene, and the Tswana ditena; all may be perceived to be derived from the Dutch baksteen meaning brick. Similarly the names for the customary wooden, brick-making mould can be seen to be derived from the Dutch. One of the more common, the Tswana foromo, is an obvious distortion of the Dutch "form" or mould. Significantly the Tswana, who are known to have been brick makers in their own right before the 1820s, also use another word, polwane, in order to signify "bricks". The polwane however are different from the ditena in that they are smaller, flatter and are made by hand. Something else which is also encountered from time to time in rural areas throughout southern Africa is the "Kimberley brick", sometimes pronounced as Kimmerli, a term used to denote a clay, sun-dried block. The implications of the name are interesting. The Kimberley diamond fields were opened in 1866 and attracted a variety of miners, prospectors and fortune hunters from all over the world. Since these fields were located far inland and lacked a transport infrastructure, building materials were initially in short supply, leading immigrants to improvise with local resources. The green or sun-dried clay brick was undoubtedly part of the background of many of these people. It is therefore possible to conclude that local men coming to the mines as migrant workers would have learnt the technology there and subsequently taken it back to their own areas. It should also be borne in mind, however, that Kimberley lies in a Tswana area, where knowledge of the "polwane" could also have been transmitted to other indigenous visitors drawn there by the prospect of work. An improvement to green brick technology which is thought to have been implemented by white farmers and missionaries alike during the last century is the process of firing the clay. The "Guide to the Transvaal" of 1878 stated that: "The clay, when burned, makes an excellent hard, dark red brick. The clamp of bricks is provided with flues, and chambers having but one small vent at the top. The exterior is coated with clay to keep the heat in. The chambers are packed with wood, which is set fire to, and the whole allowed to burn for several days." (Becker, 1878) Unlike green brick manufacture, firing does not appear to have found universal application in the rural areas, and only isolated examples have been discovered in recent years. The similarity, however, between the processes and clamp forms used as far apart as Venda and the southern Transkei seems to indicate a common root to the technology (Frescura, 1981). b. Roofing TechnologyOne of the more obvious areas where change has been brought about in local building technology, through contact with immigrant whites, has been in the field of roofing. This has involved two distinct factors: method and materials. Traditionally the indigenous builder could roof his dwelling any one of a number of ways. Generally this involved the use of long grass, gathered into bundles and laid upon a timber framework made strong enough to carry the live load of a thatcher. The whole was then held down with a network of ropes made from woven grass or other natural fibres. Water-sensitive areas such as the apex and the eaves were likewise resolved with grass details. Today, little of this technology survives. In most cases it has been replaced by methods introduced by white immigrants whereby the grass bundles are opened up and sewn down upon the roof frame by means of tarred twine and a wooden needle. Dressing of the thatch into a smooth continuous surface is done with a wooden leggett (Frescura, 1981). The resultant roof aesthetic is usually known today as the boer style thus betraying its Dutch origins. Although the twine, needle and thatcher's stirrup are known locally by various names, the thatcher's paddle or leggett is given almost universally as idekspan, being derived from the Dutch dekspan or "roofing paddle". The timber roof structure has also been subjected to a measure of change as the result of outside influences. This took place in two major ways:
The introduction of industrially-manufactured building materials into southern Africa, most particularly galvanized and corrugated iron sheeting, from the 1880s onwards, was to have a profound effect upon the built environment of the subcontinent. The emergence of the flat-roofed dwelling as an indigenous form in its own right is related directly to this event. The penetration of this material into the region, however, was not limited to the square plan cottage but extended, in recent times, into the field of more traditional domestic structures. Its geometry being essentially suited to 90° planning, its adoption to conical roofing needs had, in most cases, been a little forced, to say the least. Nonetheless some ingenious solutions have been recorded locally, most particularly in the eastern Cape. The emergence of hexagonal and octagonal plan dwellings should be seen, at least in part, as an effort at creating a compromise between the forms of indigenous architecture and the realities of a new roofing technology. THE ROLE OF MISSIONARIESEuropean missionaries to southern Africa during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries must have played a strangely ambiguous role in the history and affairs of the region. On the one hand they were driven by a strong desire to genuinely serve humanity and bring about material and social changes which would improve man's quality of life. On the other they were possessed of a moral self-righteousness which led them to make hasty and uninformed judgments upon indigenous mores, norms and values they were scarcely equipped to understand. The first manifested itself in an involvement in local agriculture, irrigation and technology which, being environmental and hence independent of larger cultural issues, found a small measure of acceptance in rural society. The second sought to impose an alien morality and work ethos upon the local people without realising that these undermined their most basic social and cultural tenets and were therefore largely resisted. The dichotomy of this approach was not something which found separate expression in different individuals but was often incorporated within the same person. Casalis wrote at Thaba Bosiu, Lesotho, in c1833, that: "... we said that, wishing to provide entirely for our own subsistence, we must have a site where we could build houses and cultivate the ground according to our own ideas and habits. Our buildings and plantations would also serve as a model for the Basutos, whom we regretted to see dwelling in huts, and living in a manner so precarious and so little worthy of the intelligence with which they were gifted." (Casalis, 1889) It is not for nothing that the statue of Livingstone in Edinburgh represents the missionary-traveller with a Bible in one hand and the other resting upon an axe (Warneck, 1888). Ironically enough, in the long run it was found that changes wrought by missionaries at a practical and economic level did more to further their spiritual cause than any amount of moralistic sermonising ever did from the pulpit. Local acceptance of early missionaries in the eastern Cape, for example, hinged more upon their technological ability to introduce furrow irrigation into an otherwise drought-stricken land than upon their Christian teachings (Williams, 1959). The ability of missionaries to make converts and hold them on their stations also seems to have been somewhat in doubt. Etherington (1977), stated that only 12% of people on mission settlements were there for "spiritual" reasons. The majority of the others sought either material advantage or psychological security. Also, although some groups such as the South Sotho and the Tswana welcomed missionaries, others like the Pedi, the Zulu and the Pondo vehemently rejected their presence as a matter of national policy. Despite Campbell's claim that: "Missionary stations are surrounded by moral atmospheres, or have a moral and civilizing influence to a considerable distance around, beyond which it is extremely hazardous for white men to go." (Campbell, 1815) they had strong objections to a missionary presence and often took appropriate action. Whole populations moved away from stations; individuals suspected of Christian leanings were administered magic and emetics; and converts were ostracized and quarantined to missionary settlements, thus being effectively purged from the larger group's identity and its social functions. Despite the continuing spread of a missionary presence into southern Africa, by the time of the Anglo-Zulu conflict of 1879 very few converts had been won over to Christianity (Etherington, 1977), leading Warneck to ponder that "Without doubt it is a far more costly thing to kill the (indigenous population) than to Christianise them." (Warneck, 1888) Success in making converts also seems to have had little to do with the liberality, or otherwise, of missionary methods. Etherington states that: "... Colenso advertised his willingness to tolerate polygamy and the exchange of bride wealth but made only a handful of converts during a long missionary career. Americans who took a hard line on these issues did considerably better. Berlin and Hermannsburg missionaries who minimized liturgical spectacles won adherents while the Oblates who staged impressive ceremonies failed utterly. Itinerant preaching proved to be no more effective than sedentary station work." (Etherington, 1977) Ultimately the success of the missionaries in southern Africa appears to have hinged upon their ability to provide viable agricultural land for indigenous settlement at a time when Black-owned land was being increasingly alienated for white usufruct. Williams also concluded that: "Of the missionary failure in (the Transkei) there is no doubt. Even today the amaXhosa is not a Christian nation ... The fact that abaKweta (circumcision initiation) ceremonies take place two miles from the University College of Fort Hare in the year 1959 symbolises the missionary failure significantly to influence the way of life of the rank and file of the tribal amaXhosa." (Williams, 1959) A change of heart appears to have occurred from the 1880s onwards when the initial success of the first trade schools at Morija in 1841 and Lovedale in 1857 spurred others to follow their example. By 1902 fifteen such institutions had opened their doors in southern Africa alone, and fifty-six throughout the African continent, all but seven of the latter having been founded after 1880 (Dennis, 1902). Livingstone's children had laid aside the Bible and taken up the axe. In spite of their preoccupation with "heathen" social practices, missionary concerns for local architecture were never hidden too far below the surface. The writings of Campbell, Mackenzie, Casalis, Arbousset and Daumas make frequent references to the dwelling forms and building technologies they encountered. None of them however formulated any kind of philosophical response to vernacular structures, choosing instead to view them as some kind of barometer against which to measure progress of a larger social and cultural nature. Thus we find that Cape Government Reports from about the 1870s onwards begin to equate the use of square-plan dwellings with the degree of civilization achieved in any one particular region. For example, the magistrate for Katberg, Griqualand East, reported in 1879 that: "I am happy to say that as far as can be seen there is a marked advance in many ways. The square house and substantially-walled round hut, is superseding the old grass huts, and the use of European clothing is more generally adopted." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) This was echoed by the United Missionary Conference of 1884 which grouped this return for Mount Arthur (Transkei) under the heading of "Moral Statistics": "Mount Arthur gives the fullest report. 306 square houses, 9000 acres cultivated land, 419 ploughs, 2 carts, 160 waggons; 700 (Pounds) taxes, 93 brick makers, 37 carpenters, 41 masons, 25 sewing mistresses." (United Missionary Conference, 1889) However, it was left for an outsider to express local missionary policy on the question of architecture. The German academic and theologian, Gustav Warneck, wrote in 1879 that: "It is not only that the requirement of modesty necessitates the providing of some sort of clothing, however simple; but Christian morality desires also a dwelling corresponding to human dignity, decency and purity. Building plays an important part in the mission. First the missionary builds a simple small house for himself, to which he soon adds a school and a church. Generally he must himself superintend this work; often enough, indeed, he must execute it with his own hand, and it stands him in good stead to have been a tradesman at home. But he induces the natives also to help him, and, much patience as it requires on his part, he undertakes to instruct them. Gradually his word and his example produce their effect, and the converts from heathenism begin to build new and more decent dwellings for themselves." (Warneck, 1888) It is doubtful that many of the early missionaries were well if at all prepared for this aspect of their mission. The Glasgow Missionary Society pamphlet of 1796, "Report on the Character of a Missionary, etc." laid considerable stress upon "piety, prudence and aptitude to teach" but not once mentioned the need for craft skills (Williams, 1959). The London Missionary Society was a little more realistic on this point and in 1800 recommended that missionaries "should carry with them some acquaintance with agriculture or those branches of mechanics which admit of an useful application in uncivilized countries; ..." (Williams, 1959) It was left for the French to take the initiative in this field. When Casalis and Arbousset were chosen to be sent out to southern Africa by the Paris Missionary Society, they were given basic training in the skills of drawing, building and architecture. Not only that, they were also joined by Gosselin who, as "missionary artisan", was sent out to assist them erect their first dwellings (Germond, 1967), and, to this end, brought out with him a chest of various building tools. The attachment of Gosselin to the party was an inspired piece of fore-planning on the part of the French. Once his task of building mission houses for his colleagues was completed, his brief was also "to train the (South Sotho) to erect proper and comfortable homes for their own families, while gaining their affection by teaching them divers handicrafts; ..." (Germond, 1967) This policy foreshadowed events in the region by nearly half a century and paved the way for the subsequent establishment of Industrial Training Institutions in southern Africa. The first of these was founded, naturally enough, by the Paris Missionary Society at Morija, Lesotho, in 1841, but others soon followed this example. Lovedale in 1857, St Matthews in 1876, Leloaleng in 1879, Amanzimtoti in 1883 and Blythswood in 1884 were but a few (Dennis, 1902). The report for Leloaleng in 1910 stated that "Instruction is given in stone and brick building, carpentry, blacksmith work, wagon repairing, shoe making and saddlery." (Paris Evangelical Missionary Society, c1913), while the Lovedale report for 1895 commented that: "The work during the year has been the woodwork on one two-storied house; erecting and finishing two new dormitories 117 feet long - joisting of two-storied technical workshop now in process of erection; a great variety of alterations on buildings - new bakery, Post Office, and some outhouses." (Lovedale Missionary Institution, 1896) Sir Bartle Frere, Governor of the Cape Colony, made the official position regarding industrial training clear when, in a message to Parliament in c1884 he stated that: "Nothing can more surely prevent future (border) wars than the multiplication of Institutions like those of Lovedale and Blythswood, especially if they extend their industrial training so as to include agriculture." (Warneck, 1888) Charles Brownlee, Secretary for Native Affairs, issued a circular in 1873, in which he proclaimed that "It is a matter of great importance that the young men brought up at and near Mission Stations should be ... trained to take their proper position in society" (Cape of Good Hope, 1873), while Matthew Blyth, Chief Magistrate for the Division of Transkei, reported to the Cape Parliament in 1879 that: "More large schools with European masters, where trades could be learnt and discipline enforced, are wanted in every district, so that there may be more thoroughness about the education. The expense would be large, but it is a matter of vital importance to the Colony that the young may be so trained that they can take their places worthily as members of a civilized and industrious community." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) It is not an easy matter to assess the results of these missionary efforts. We know that in such matters as initiation and teenage sexual morality they had little impact. This however does not appear to have been the case with building technology where some considerable influence seems to have been wielded through the medium of education. In 1879 some 173 "special apprentices" were undergoing training in various industrial institutions in the Cape (Cape of Good Hope, 1880a), approximately 60% of who were engaged in the building trades. Most appear to have originated from the eastern Cape and Transkei region (Lovedale Missionary Institution, 1896), where they also subsequently plied their trades (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b), but it is not impossible that, with time, they spread further afield. Certainly the missionaries themselves were not slow in proclaiming the fruits of their labours, as seen from this report from Leloaleng, made in 1910: "Since its foundation the work of the school has had a marked influence in improving the class of (South Sotho) houses, as in almost every village of importance are to be found neat stone buildings which reflect great credit on the intelligence and enterprise of their builders." (Paris Evangelical Missionary Society, c1913) In the case of some specialised areas of construction such as roof carpentry, stone masonry and brick making, the effects of missionary education are evident to the present day. Despite this obvious element of technological transposition however, the nature of the indigenous rural environment has remained essentially vernacular. Dwelling plans have, in most cases, retained their traditional circular form, materials have remained local and found and the technologies concerned, although new, have been harnessed to fulfill the same social roles as the ones they have replaced. Most important, this missionary input does not appear to have had a direct effect upon the nature and form of indigenous settlement patterns which is a more direct manifestation of local "culture" than the dwelling form itself. THE ROLE OF TRADERSThe work of missionaries during the last century should not be viewed in isolation from the activities of either traders or government officials. In many ways they shared common interests and often what was of benefit to the one group was equally good for the others. They can also be seen to be part of a progression of events which paved the way for the colonialisation of indigenous groups not only in southern Africa, but the world over. Warneck wrote in 1879 that: "According to a calculation made by the missionary Whitmee, every missionary sent to the Polynesian islands produces an annual trade-revenue of at least 200,000 marks. 'Of course, the trade is organised by merchants, but the missionary originates it.'" (Warneck, 1888) He saw the missionary as generating a demand for consumer goods while, at the same time, creating conditions which facilitated the establishment of trade links. "The mission is in a twofold respect a pioneer for commerce. It creates the needs for a civilized life, and is at the same time a protective power ... which contributes more to the security of commerce than many ships of far." (Warneck, 1888) The impact of trading activity on rural southern Africa is made clear by the various statements to this effect found in Government reports during the 1870s and 1880s. Charles Bell, Resident Magistrate of Berea, Lesotho, said in 1879 that: "The demand for European clothing is steadily increasing. At public meetings and other public gatherings, it is considered a sign of inferiority to appear dressed in clothes other than those of European manufacture ... the general tendency of the people being to supplant their own crude and badly made articles by those of European manufacture." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) MW Liefeldt, Assistant Magistrate for Matatiele, East Griqualand echoed the reports of many of his colleagues when he stated in 1879 that: "Trade has increased considerably during the past year. There are now fourteen trading stations in the district. There is a great demand for European clothing, ploughs, blankets, etc. etc." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) The larger picture was described by the missionary Duvoisin who, in 1885, wrote from Berea, Lesotho, that: "Their first preoccupation was to acquire the arms of the Europeans; after which they have progressively adopted their dress, their agricultural implements, their household utensils. They have gradually begun to replace the native hut with stone or brick cottages, which offer a greater resemblance to European houses; finally they have begun to imitate them in their habits and their mode of life." (Germond, 1967) The missionaries' relationship with colonial officials is perhaps not quite as clear-cut as in the previous case. Certainly we know that the former performed a number of ad hoc duties on behalf of the Government such as reporting on events in remote areas and fulfilling various diplomatic functions. At times this led to accusations that missionaries were acting as government agents, causing considerable acrimony between the missionaries, the indigenous population and other white settlers (Williams, 1959). In some cases there was active collusion between the two parties, to the detriment of indigenous interests (Etherington, 1977). Generally however interaction took place on a more formal level, with missionaries encouraging local people to obey the laws and pay their hut taxes, and occasionally interceding on their behalf with officialdom. Sometimes written recommendations would be submitted to the authorities, such as those made to the Cape Parliament by the Moravian missionary Meyer, stationed at Elukolweni, who in 1875 asked, among other things, that hut tax relief be offered: "For the improvement of dwelling-houses ... for a certain number of years as reward for the building of a square brick dwelling-house of certain size with glass windows." (Cape of Good Hope, 1876) It is not thought that the colonial officials acceded to this request, if for no other reason than the fact that hut-tax had already become an important source of revenue with which to subsidise the administration of the outlying districts. THE ROLE OF THE GOVERNMENT AGENTA factor which, in the long term, was to have a profound influence upon the social and economic make-up of southern Africa was the creation of a migrant labour system from the 1870s onwards. Provisions for the contractual binding of labourers to employers had already been in force in the Cape since the early years of the nineteenth century (Burchell, 1953), but these were largely directed at the Khoi who, even then, did not inhabit the region in sufficient numbers to satisfy the needs of the employment market. With the discovery and subsequent development of the Cape diamond fields from 1866 onwards came the extension of the local infrastructure as well as the rapid growth of such coastal commercial centers as Cape Town, Port Elizabeth and East London. This created a need for large numbers of skilled and unskilled labourers to work on public and private enterprises in the Colony. The resultant shortage of labour caused both private employers and the Cape Government to look further afield for potential sources of manpower, the most obvious being the Transkei and eastern Cape. A newspaper editorial of March 1873, on the subject of local labour, among other things urged missionaries to: "... single out all the unemployed young men they know of, at their various stations, and talk over the matter with them individually ... The missionary's work is not done when the work of the pulpit and the duties of religious instruction are over. He must follow these up, by seeing how the young men growing up under his care, set themselves to the first duty of practical Christianity - which is to earn an honest livelihood." (Wilson and Perrot, 1973) THE ROLE OF TAXATIONAnother powerful inducement for young men to enter the Colony's labour market was the introduction of a hut tax from the 1850s onwards (Peires, pers comm 1983). Although at first this was not applied uniformly in the rural areas, in 1870 it was enacted on a broad basis as an urban and rural house tax which was intended as a straightforward revenue-generating measure (Foster, Tennant and Jackson, 1887). This not only provided a disproportionately large slice of the income necessary to create a system of first tier local administration in the rural areas (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b), but it also created the need for local people to go into towns in order to earn the money for its payment. WG Cumming, Resident Magistrate of Xalanga, Transkei, commented in 1880 that: "In order that money might be obtained to pay the hut-tax, hundreds of young men have been sent into the Colony by their relatives to work in the town and among the farmers. The frequent recurring necessity of having to find the money for their friends, will gradually force the young men out of the groove in which they have been living ..." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) It is probable however that rural man's need to earn wages was considerably sharpened by the availability of consumer goods through local trading stores. Such items as ploughs and blankets would have found ready acceptance in local life without necessarily causing too much cultural upheaval in the process. Later on other articles such as furniture and building materials would have become available through the same channels. The effect of a migrant labour system upon the local built environment was threefold:
The differences between missionaries and employers are therefore quite evident. The former set moral standards which they then expected the people themselves to find the means to meet; the latter on the other hand not only trained workers in the technology of European building traditions but also gave them the opportunity of sharing in them by giving them those means. Both were part of the same process of rural alienation, but the missionaries offered ideological comfort, while employers were more material in their rewards. Judging by the it was the material benefits which ultimately carried the day. The principle of imposing a taxation upon the rural habitat of southern Africa appears to have been mooted for the first time in either late 1857 or early 1858 by Sir George Grey, Governor of the Cape Colony. The initial intent of this measure was to bring the black inhabitants of the eastern Cape region bordering onto the Transkei under greater control of the colonial administration, at a time when, as a result of the "cattle killing" of 1857, thousands of starving Xhosa were pouring southwards in a quest for food. In his opening address to the fifth session of the First Parliament of the Cape of Good Hope in 1858, Grey announced that: "In other districts, where the (Xhosa) did not kill their cattle, or destroy their means of subsistence, they are living in their own country under European magistrates, and are being placed in villages into which no newcomers are admitted without the consent of the Government previously obtained. In order to obtain the means of properly governing these people for the future, a hut tax, and a tax upon cattle and horses, has been imposed upon them, and they have been so far brought under our control, and the influences of civilization, as to afford fair hopes of their gradually becoming a tractable, money-making people." (Cape of Good Hope, March 10, 1858) The application of this tax in the Cape does not appear to have been either uniform or immediately universal, not having been introduced in some areas, such as Griqualand East, until 1879 (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b). Nor, for that matter, do its provisions appear to have been codified until the Cape Parliament promulgated Act No 2 of 1869 (To Make Provisions for the more easy Collection of Hut Tax) (Cape of Good Hope, 1879). Gray's correspondence to Col Maclean of Grahamstown between 5th February and 8th March 1858 sets out his intentions quite clearly. In it he states that: “1. Each magistrate must, with as little delay as possible, select within his location sites for villages on which the (Xhosa) will thereafter be required to reside. In a subsequent letter to the same person he states that: "Each person who pays hut tax within a location will receive a Crown Grant for a garden lot subject to an annual quit rent of 10 (shillings) per annum and on the issue of such grant will be freed from further hut tax." (Cape Archives, Cape Town) Grey's intentions in this matter are obvious. Not only did the owners of "European-style" dwellings receive a definite tax benefit but the linkage between a hut tax and a property tax sought to strike at the very basis of indigenous land ownership concepts. Also the whole question of traditional homesteads was left unresolved, giving rise to a number of queries relating to how concepts such as extended monogamous and polygamous family units were defined in the application of this tax. Judging from other legislation of that era, it is probable that each wife in a polygamous union would have been considered as comprising a separate "family". In such circumstances therefore, such taxation should also be seen as having been a potentially destabilising factor to rural culture, inhibiting traditional marriage patterns and hence undermining established economic and political patterns of rural life. Theoretically therefore the Cape Government did not perceive its tax as affecting traditional rural family patterns. In reality however, the amount of planting and grazing land available to each family head was limited as, therefore, was also the space for settlement. A polygamous family would, naturally enough, have required a plot of land proportionally larger than a monogamous unit in order to feed its greater numbers as well as prevent inter-marital friction arising between wives. Therefore, under the new village settlement system, the division of polygamous settlements into separate domestic homesteads became virtually unavoidable, thus proportionally increasing the tax payable by any one family head. Grey's correspondence from that same period also reveals the wider and long-term revenue-generating intentions of these measures. In answer to a question received from the Chief Commissioner at Fort Murray that same year (Cape Archives, Cape Town. Letter No 313, 4th March 1858), Grey stated that ultimately it was planned to include blacks residing upon mission stations, as well as white settlers, under the same system of taxation. The success of these provisions in raising funds to subsidise the colonial administration of black areas can best be judged by the official returns of some twenty years later. In East Griqualand in 1879 the money raised by both quit rentals and hut taxes within its first year of application was 46% of all revenues; in Umzimkulu that same year this figure was 82% while in the Transkei in 1875 it was as high as 94% (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b). Amazingly enough the imposition of a hut tax at that time did not prove to be an entirely unpopular measure. The Assistant Magistrate at Matatiele, MW Liefeldt, echoed the opinions of many of his colleagues in the colonial administration when he reported in 1879 that "The Hut-Tax has been cheerfully paid, and is increasing in amount every year. There are no arrears." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) Even the Sotho Pitso, or Grand National Assembly, which met on 16 October 1880 dismissed the raising of the annual tax from 10 shillings to £1 with a few cursory words, before concentrating upon the potentially more explosive issue of the Sotho being allowed to carry guns (Germond, 1967). The administrative confusion was increased by Act No 2 of 1869 designed "To Make Provision for the more easy Collection of Hut Tax" (Cape of Good Hope, 1879). This laid down certain administrative procedures for the recovery of the tax but clarified no issues, and in fact effectively increased the tax to 10s. per hut as against the former 10s. per family. Fortunately many of these doubts were resolved with the promulgation of Act 9 of 1870 entitled "For Granting to her Majesty in her Colonial Revenue certain Duties on Houses." (Cape of Good Hope, 1879) This had the effect of extending Grey's original concept to all sectors of the Cape community, both black and white. It also clarified many of the previous difficulties of interpretation encountered by previous administrations. All buildings and hence, by implication, huts, within a forty-five meter (fifty yard) radius of the main building were held to be one dwelling for tax purposes. Kinship units were also defined, giving formal recognition to polygamous and extended families but taxing the homesteads of married offspring as separate dwellings. The Cape Colony was not the only colonial administration to impose a form of taxation upon indigenous settlements. Natal first promulgated such provisions in 1857, the Orange Free State from before 1867 and the Transvaal (ZAR) from 1853 onwards. They all shared in the common aim of generating revenue for administrative purposes and generally differed little in content from the equivalent legislation of the Cape Colony. It has not been possible to date to correlate the exact influence that the imposition of a hut tax by the colonial administrations could have had upon the rural architecture of southern Africa. It can be surmised that such a levy could have inhibited the institution of marital polygamy; that it engendered the spread of square-plan dwellings and "European-type" houses; and that it forced the average rural family away from traditional settlements into grid-plan villages. In reality none of these are true. Rural man, although potentially polygamous, very rarely reached that condition of marriage, even before the era of Difaqane; circular plan dwellings are still, to the present day, the single most numerous residential form in use throughout southern Africa; and it is only in more recent times that settlement patterns have begun to depart from their older and more traditional historical models. Add to this the fact that the indigenous population offered little resistance to the imposition of the levy and it may be seen that, despite any colonial wishes to the contrary, hut tax had little direct influence upon the character of southern African vernacular architecture. If in this case direct influences are difficult to determine, one need not go far in order to find ways in which hut tax may have had an indirect bearing upon the architecture of southern Africa. This probably occurred in two main areas. The first related to the fact that for many years the Cape Colony had complained of a drastic shortage of manual and unskilled labour in its expansion of the road and rail infrastructure. Efforts had long been made, largely to no avail, to draw rural dwellers away from their traditional agrarian roots and introduce them into the Colony's cash economy. The system of taxation however was to break that down and by the 1880s it became common for rural families to send their young men to the cities to earn money to pay for the local hut and livestock levies. In 1879 RJ Dick, Special Magistrate for the district of Tamacha, wrote that: "Numbers of the Natives have left the district to take employment on the railway and other public works, being urged to do so in order to obtain money to pay their taxes; ..." (Cape of Good Hope, 1880b) In the Cape Colony they would have come into contact with new dwelling forms, building materials and technologies as well as industrially produced artifacts which would ultimately have found their may into the rural areas. The second factor lay in the Cape Colonial policy of consolidating rural settlements into villages of approximately 200 huts (Cape Archives). Although the success of such a policy is debatable, it nonetheless existed and some attempts are known to have been made at its implementation. In such cases the parcels of land were seldom large enough to support traditional agrarian and pastoral patterns, and changes in the rural economy would have been inevitable. Ultimately these would have manifested themselves in such areas as size and composition of the family unit as well as such material factors as the availability of thatching grasses and building timbers, thus affecting the nature of indigenous vernacular architecture. CONCLUSIONSWhile it is obvious that a study of the historical forces which have moulded the fate of rural man is important in gaining an idea of how his built environment has been able to respond to them, the picture is by no means yet complete. Despite recent valuable work in this field, the interactions between town and country dwellers, their economies and hence their architecture has yet to be fully recorded and analysed. The migrant worker must have been an important link between the two, yet no research of any magnitude has yet been conducted to determine his role in the transplant of new materials, technologies and dwelling forms from the urban to the rural environment. Until this and other allied work is tackled, preferably by architects, this picture must, of necessity, remain incomplete. POSTSCRIPTThis draft was prepared as a teaching paper for students in the Department of Architecture, University of Port Elizabeth. I am absolutely amazed that, to date, it has never been submitted anywhere for publication. I promise to rectify this state of affairs just as soon as I can. BIBLIOGRAPHYBACKHOUSE, James. 1844. A Narrative of a Visit ...etc. London: Hamilton, Adams.
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