My Ancestry(Laura Weber) Tracing an ancestry is hard work and if you can catch a jet to London, book in at a hotel close to Random House, expenses are already mounting up. There will be a further charge for the trace. Be prepared to pay out a fairly large sum. The results will not always be exciting as one would wish for, as we colonials in Africa tend to romance our back ground quite a bit. I have no doubt that some of our Scottish relatives constantly went to war against the British. The story about one of our clan who was anti Catholic, arrived at the church during a service and threw her milking stool at the Bishop who was on a mission from Rome to preach their doctrine to a Scottish congregation, “yell have no of that herrre” pardon my attempt at the accent! Then there is the story of a Spanish lady, named Isabella, who supposedly ran off with a sea fearing Mather, and set sail with him for Scotland, pursued by an irate Spanish husband.

If one is fanatical about family history, you can always go way back to pre history the time just before the birth of man. What habits did man generally inherit at birth, from the monkeys when they were poised and ready to emerge out of their fur coats, to become known as the Naked Ape?

At the moment I am glued to television watching the BBC documentary Planet Earth. The following are some of the things which seem to run through all the variety of monkeys including our fore the chimp, handed down to the human race; a love of fermented fruit, after over eating and munching for several hours, they would stagger around drunk. We can thus count alcoholism, as definitely one of the sins that we still indulge in today, to wit, we sit or lounge on stools in bars at all hours, a favourite pastime of the human race.

Our forefathers were addicted to drugs as there was a wide variety of plants to choose from. Mushrooms must have been eaten as a popular item on their menu giving satisfaction to hallucinate and while away the days for hours. Certain plants that grew in abundance in the south of France, we now consider as drugs which monkeys used to get high on and relax in the sun all day long. French monkeys chewed on wild tobacco plants growing on the cliffs. Gang warfare, violence, tribalism, sexual promiscuity, could be our patterned behaviour today. Their rivalry for love and passion was sometimes rather deadly.

Gibbons known for their fits of rage are monogamous and have small families, but they brought us wonderful movements, acrobatics, grace and athletics, swinging high in the trees. The trapeze artists are a pretty good act to see how they also fly through the air with the greatest of ease.

Gorillas are shy and prone to have an inferiority complex. However when confronted, they will make loud noises and beat their chests, not unlike the wrestlers’ trading insults at one another in deep gruff rasping voices before going into action in the ring.

Chimps live in small groups with their wives and children and thereby brought us family life and IQ, which enabled our start toward intellect. A chimp kiss: information supplied by Jane Goodall’s book Through the Window, describes a chimp when she shows her appreciation and affection. Jane got a chimp kiss from a mouth wide open and laid over hers. This takes me back to our early years when at the end of the school dances, senior boys tried very hard to sneak kisses from us, that we referred to as rubber kisses, and did our best to avoid them.

We got our voices from the Howlers of Central America, who blessed us with our vocal chords.

The monkeys of Madagascar are high jumpers, so are our high pole vaulters getting ready for a jump! Watch them in action.
I love the beautiful fur coats we inherited from many of the species where the environment played a big part giving us abundance of colour, and to mention the beautiful coats from a number of richly endowed species living in Sumatra and Borneo and the high mountains of Ethiopia. Pity we are not satisfied with our natural hair.

As I promised, I did say I would have a go and try to tell as interesting as possible a story, about my mother’s ancestry. I know very little about the Scottish Ancestry. I have a cousin in Australia, who did a search. However, I love the South African side, and found them generally a very vibrant group of people. I found it far more interesting to write about relatives that I knew.
My mother’s parents were from Scotland and probably also involved in fighting the English.

Mel Gibson did a lovely portrayal in Brave Heart, and we became very enthusiastic and sided with our Scottish heritage. And to send us into heavenly bliss was Sean Connery 007 who certainly did a lot for his country as he became very famous, with that wonderful Scottish burr. Who can forget another brave heart, Andrew Murray the tennis player who won a Gold medal for Scotland? As a junior he watched nine of his mates gunned down by a lunatic in the school class rooms. The Scottish tribes were ferocious fighters and always ready to defend themselves against aggressive neighbours, the Brits.

My Grandmother Matilda Geddes worked as a maid for a very wealthy Glasgow family. One of the sons fell in love with her and got her pregnant. Although a bit of a rascal, boozer, gambler and quite wild, he married her. They stayed on with his family who accepted her into the fold. The Mather family were very wealthy and did not have to prove their status in society. Eventually because he could not change his ways, all though at the time he had two sons, they were persuaded to leave Scotland, given an allowance to go and settle in the Eastern Cape in South Africa.

This is how I saw and remembered some of the Mather Clan.

My mother took us on several trips to see her relatives. My grandmother was a strikingly good looking woman with a very dominant personality. She started the South African branch to general prosperity and was instrumental in helping her eight children succeed through education and thereby to teach them the sense to want to work hard that enabled them to flourish financially and run successful Trading Stations, which seemed to increase and dot the countryside. Full of energy they ventured into several other businesses in the Eastern Cape. As the families got bigger, contact with all of the new generations were a little limited and hard to keep up with but my cousin my cousin Bea kept us well informed.

A few of the South African family however never lost contact with the Mathers of Glasgow and a steady stream of uncles and aunts, in laws, cousins, and my sister, made their way over time to stay with them and were always warmly received and made welcome. I never understood the term “dour Scots.”

I remember very clearly when we went to the Eastern Cape, to meet as many aunts, uncles and cousins, their homes welcoming and cosy with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting through to the sitting room, the slices still warm from the oven which they served with tea. There was a certain natural old fashion charm that they exuded, a sincere friendly manner.

Sadly I cannot remember my grandfather or his Christian name. I think he was always in a dazed state of alcoholic bliss and kept out of the way.

The four main people I am going to write about are: my two uncles known as the Terrible Twins, loveable piratical traders, who kept everyone agog with anticipation on what they were up to at that moment. There were eight children in the family and Beatrice was the youngest. My Mother was called Poppy, although her name was Matilda, a most unlikely name to suit such a beautiful woman. People remembered her only as Poppy.

The Terrible Twins were successful entrepreneurs in trading illegal goods to the Western Cape which was prohibited at that time. It took the S.A. Police stationed in the Transkei approximately 20 years to catch up with the twins and put an end to this business. They paid a rather large fine and become respectable citizens, and settled down with white wives.

My one cousin regaled me with the most exciting and interesting stories about the Terrible Twins amidst shrieks of laughter. Their strategy in which they ran their trips was simple and thorough. They knew every inch of the way blindfolded. The safe routes, the hidden routes, the nooks and crannies where they could easily store their goods were all mapped with precise drawings, and studied intently, where as the Police only knew the main roads. A very important point to mention is the role played by the villagers. In every village or Port of call, the Terrible Twins had mistresses and girl friends, who adored them, because they were generously given financial aid and gifts, and their offspring were given the chance to get educated. The twins would take turns to transport the children to school in a large truck.

All the villages were involved in this successful enterprise, and their duty entailed working the look-out points system. They were spot on and never erred in valuable information concerning Police movements. Their plans A and B and C etc worked with efficiency, because the police could never tell who was who and their vans were exact replicas.

One day Dick was told to go to the police station and rescue Jack who had been arrested. In the charge office Dick told the top cop, he was Jack, and the man in the cell was Dick, and as they could see he Jack was nowhere around the scene of the crime. Four hours later both men walked out of the police station. It must be noted at that time, going back to about l940, trainee constables were not out of Police Academies, Harvard, or any other higher Schools of learning. Passing academic examinations was never one of their finer achievements; probably failing year after year there was no other option but to leave school at fifteen years old. Therefore the police or army consisted of these young men who could be trained for physical duties.

It was unfortunate that these young cops had to question two such superb cons acting out a first class performance no less worthy of an Oscar. And so completely out of their depth found an easy way out, to set Jack free.

On one of the last trips, they were doing the rounds very early in the morning delivering whiskey to their faithful customers, when they were stopped by the villagers, who informed them that a police patrol was out to trap them and gave an exact route to avoid, especially down at the bridge, where about four top cops were hiding behind the rocks and boulders.

Immediately plan B was activated and Jack made for one of the secret places to dump his load. Dick carried on down the mountain with his load of laying hens, ready for the market. As Dick expected the van was surrounded by police, and instructed to alight, and open the door. Dick tried to tell them the van was loaded with hens. Disbelief was written all over the faces of the cops. They took matters into their own hands, and yanked open the doors.
Out flew thirty laying hens, clucking and squawking in angry unison, by being disturbed from their nests. Dick sat on the bonnet of the van, and grinned at the scene especially when one landed on the head of one of the cops, as he tried to thrust it off him.

It was a very cold morning, with mist coming in from the river. He told the police to catch the hens, as he was taking them to market later on. A good form of punishment, but eventually sweating and exhausted from running all over the mountain, the hens were put in the van. Dick of course was at his most profuse in thanking them for a job well done. Trying to catch hens is real hard work fit mainly for a well trained athlete.

Aunt Beatrice, was just one of a kind story which I have often though about. I admired her and this is solely my interpretation.
Aunt Beatrice already had three children when she gave birth to twin boys. One boy was born healthy and went on to live a perfectly normal life. The other boy was born with a brain so damaged; he only reached a mental capacity of six months, but thereafter grew physically to a tall 6ft and reached the fine old age of twenty-one yrs.

In all those years Aunty Beatrice managed and looked after Boy Blue with all her devoted love and care a mother can give from the very depth of her being. I understand the funny little quirks she adopted. The terrible tragedy of what nature can dish out so cruelly. She lived in another world for consolation. It must have taken some courage to go through the desperation she must have felt day after day.

Relatives and visitors alike were always taken to see Boy Blue as he was called by my Aunt, to inspect her naughty little imp, and what he had been up to. He lived in order and harmony due to Aunty Bea and the care she took of him.

We were also taken on a tour to view the collection of probably a thousand jars of bottled fruit, accumulated over the years, spotless and virgin like clean, to keep her busy and occupied. Visitors were conducted through the rows of shelves, but only to admire, quite unlike wine tasting occasions, where one is given samples or to sip and take in the aroma before tasting in slender goblets or wine glasses for final approval.

Aunty Bea was also known as the Party line telephonic menace. However it kept the ladies busy with angry conversations, interrupted by continuous mudslinging, exposing secrets, including many threats to sue. Unfortunately Aunty was the ring leader and trouble maker which kept the party line busy, as she was on a mission to enlighten the community. All this went unheeded and made no impression on my poor Aunt, but it must have been hilarious to listen in.

When Blue Boy died, she shed her suit of armour, and emerged like a butterfly from captivity. Underneath all the sorrow, was in fact a wonderfully kind person with an engaging personality.

The Ruby Ring: a pretty little delicate keepsake ring fashioned with a heart, shaped centre piece in red enamel, given to my mother by her boy friend Phillip on the eve of his departure for Europe to fight in the l9l4 Great War for his King and country Britain. Settlers then referred to Britain as still their home.

My mother was renowned for her beauty by settlers and Xhosa people, who called her Poppy “beautiful flower.” Phillip and Poppy were very much in love, young and carefree. They had a love of horses. Experienced riders they attended and competed in gymkhana, and other horse shows.

They were seen riding for fun, in the high misty mountains, sparkling and shinning with happiness. Phillip lived on the other side of the Bashee River, and they used to meet at either his side of the river or her side. In the rainy season he waited for her to come and then helped her cross over a very rough and scary river in flood. He carried her clothes on top of his head to keep them dry especially at weekends which was known for their several days of party time.

Just before Phillip left, he asked her to wear the ring a keepsake to remember him, and once back from the war he would replace it with a wedding ring. In l9l4 I wonder how many young enthusiastic heroes would return. Poppy was one of the eager young maidens waiting for their loved ones. Phillip never did return, killed in the battlefields of Europe. She wrapped the ring in tissue paper and put it away in a little remembrance box.

Years went by until my father came into her life and instantly fell in love at first sight. Within three months he was determined to marry and put an engagement and wedding ring on her finger. His love never changed, he adored her forever.

The ruby ring was given to Isabella, in turn given to Maxine and now to my granddaughter Rachel. We all know the sentimental value of a small delicate keepsake can have belonging in a family. None of us ever wore the ring because it was too small for our rather large hands as my mothers were very tiny. Maybe it is not meant to be worn by anyone except Poppy.

Writing about ancestry or families such as it was, I did learn that what counts is how we conduct ourselves and cope with life, and pass the very best of us on to our children.

Once early man was poised on the edge of a precipice being pushed to evolve, and did they leave us a legacy, just as we are now getting ready to jump up to the stars. The human race is advancing further and faster into a new era, the space age. What inspires humans to go on regardless is his insatiable desire and curiosity to go one step further.

There will always be the other half of humans doomed to live in shacks and have to fight to stay alive. With the increase in populations, Governments are unable to deal with these frightening problems. The poorest of the poor are always immersed in their own hopelessness generation after generation.

Our ancestry and genes might become diluted over time with a mixture of races. My grandchildren are a mini united nations of sort : English, Scottish, Welsh Irish, French, Jewish, Flemish, German, Dutch, maybe one or two more, as I have not tackled the mission impossible task finding my husband’s complete line.

The person I admire is my grandmother Matilda Geddes. An indomitable spirited woman, she did not have the chance of an education, but she had the foresight to realise the importance of one for her children and went far beyond herself to give them that chance to ensure their progress and their survival to cope with their world and the future doing her bit for the human race to carry on....

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