As Jon Inggs acknowledges in his enlightening thesis on the development of the harbour until 1870, “Nothing was done to improve landing facilities at Algoa Bay before 1820 apart from setting up a flagpost on the landing beach with the dual role of marker and signal as to whether it was safe to land or not”.
What would be done, if anything, over the first decade from 1820 to 1830 in order to improve matters for shipping in Algoa Bay?
Main picture: Port Elizabeth from the shipping in 1850 by HWHC Piers [NMM Art Museum]
At the turn of the 20th
century, Port Elizabeth still did not possess a harbour. For fifty years no progress
had been made in spite of a barrage of
requests. In 1905 the Cape Government submitted three proposals to a commission
of engineers in London to adjudicate them.
The commission recommended
the submission by Coode, Son and Matthew but would this proposal be the plan to
eventually be executed?
Main picture: Proposed new dock at Port Elizabeth with the outer wharf at North End
Far be it for me to impugn the motives of the Port
Elizabeth Harbour Board for requesting an eminent harbour engineer, Mr. C.W. Methven, to report on the practicability
of building a harbour at the mouth of the Swartkops River. Accordingly I will
not speculate as to their rationale but rather assume that the issue regarding
silting would forever bedevil the construction of a breakwater at or in close proximity
to the existing jetties and landing beaches.
Despite a breakwater being
a critical component of a harbour, Port
Elizabeth was deprived of one until the 1920s. That consigned the unloading of
the ships to be performed in the roadstead, an archaic practice, long since
abandoned by other ports.
The initial attempt at
building a breakwater in 1856 was disastrous as it became unusable due to
silting after the flood in 1867. It would be fifty years before another attempt
would be made to construct the breakwater.
Main picture: Breakwater with the Charl Malan Quay still under
In the midst of the
Coronavirus epidemic ravaging the world, South Africa will have to brace itself
for a tsunami of dead bodies. Given crowding in the townships and on the public
transport, social distancing is impractical. The last time that South Africa experienced
such a pandemic was in 1918 which resulted in at least an estimated 500 000
How did this pandemic
affect Port Elizabeth? And what lessons can be learnt?
Main picture: Mouth of the Shark River in Humewood with Lazaretto Contagious Diseases Hospital
Amongst the many iconic buildings in Main Street during the mid-1980s was this building. Originally built in 1937, it underwent a major upgrade in the 1950s and a minor one in the 1960s.
Main picture: OK Bazaars building in 1938
The original building, designed by Jones and McWilliams in the Art Deco style, was constructed in 1936/7. The iconic Lombard Chambers, designed by my great great grandfather on the distaff side of the family, George Dix-Peek, was built in 1879. This building was demolished to make way for the OK Bazaars.
The OK Bazaars building was one of very few to have used glazed ceramic tiles as a decorative finish, an element that was used for decoration a great deal in Art Deco buildings especially in Britain.
The 2 storey Aegis Assurance and Trust building was originally sandwiched between the Lombard Chambers and the Mutual Arcade (original building date unknown). It had a 3rd storey added in 1923. This building was demolished in 1956 when OK was extended north up Main Street. The contract for this extension was awarded to one of the top building contractors of that era, JJ, Ruddy & Sons, who appointed my father, Harry Clifford McCleland, as site foreman
During the 1960s, some modifiations were made to this building. The first-floor restaurant over the canopy was removed and the fins, which were taller and had flagpoles attached to the top, were shortened and the capping slab added.
On the 13th January 1934, the Japanese freighter ‘Paris Maru’ of 7,197
tons bound for Cape Town struck Roman Rock which is situated at the bell buoy
off Summerstrand after leaving port. Badly holed, she made a dash for port and
unfortunately she did not make it. The vessel sank just outside the Port
Elizabeth harbour entrance. The wreck became a hazard for shipping and had to
be blown up.
As the Dutch boeren trekked ever eastwards in order to escape
from authority, they encountered an enemy of a different kind: a series of
rivers in steep defiles. The one solution was to bypass them by traversing the
Langkloof route. The final challenges were the Gamtoos and Van Stadens Rivers. The Gamtoos was the easier foe as it could be
crossed by making a turn to the north. The Van Staden river was a foe of
The success of Port Elizabeth has always been determined by its transport links to the interior. Initially it was the port from which the bulk of the Cape Colony’s wool was exported and then in the first half of the 20th century it was the port through which all cars assembled in South Africa were imported. Before the introduction of rail services in the 1870s, inland transport was dependent upon the state of the roads which were execrable. Secondly the condition of the roads impeded the exports in that it took three months for an ox wagon to complete a round trip from Graaff Reinet to Port Elizabeth and back.
Main picture: Typical old Divisional Council roads, narrow and rutted, with a drift below and ox wagons toiling up the hill
In his excellent thesis Liverpool of the Cape: Port
Elizabeth Harbour Development 1820-70 Jon Inggs succinctly summarises the
transport conundrum as follows. “The common denominator between all of Port
Elizabeth’s major exports was the fact that they were all bulky items, with a relatively
low value to mass, produced in the distant interior. Thus their viability as
exports depended more on the state of inland transport than on the existence of
harbour facilities. The nub of the transport bottleneck was that before the
advent of railways in the 1870s, eastern Cape transport was dominated by the
humble ox wagon. Instead of casting aspersions at its lumbering appearance and rutted
tracks deemed to be roads, they were able to cope with the massive expansion of
trade. The exact number will never be known but by using wool export data from
the Customs Returns, one is able to obtain a fairly accurate notion of the
magnitude of these loads. Fully laden, each wagon is capable of carrying about 20
bales of wool with a mass of 3000 kgs.
In many instances where figures are available, the number of
wagons transporting wool to Port Elizabeth was in fact far in excess of the
Distances covered by the wagons
It was not just a case of vast distances being covered but
due to the fact that the wagons travelled painfully slowly, it can be deduced
that most wagons entering Port Elizabeth had been on the road for at least a
month. This time was based upon the estimated travelling distance per wagon
being 193 kms.
Increased competition depressed transport costs substantially
During the shearing season, wool was obviously the dominant
cargo. Therefore the bulk of wagon traffic was from the major wool growing
regions to Port Elizabeth. In 1853, the districts of origin of the wool
exported through Algoa Bay.
As Jon Inggs correctly notes is that “Port Elizabeth owed
its importance to the fact that it was the natural outlet to the sea for the
major wool producing districts. She maintained her position so long as inland transport
depended on the ox wagon”. The introduction of the railways in the 1870s
would change this dynamic.
Importance of the road network
From the foregoing, Jon Inggs clearly lays out the
statistics illustrating not only the importance of this road network to the
rise of Port Elizabeth but also the surprising conclusion that the importance
of the road system was greater than the existence of the harbour facilities.
Clearly the shipping companies never viewed the road network as a larger
constraint than the lack of harbour facilities.
Simply put the term “road” was a misnomer as these arterials
were in fact little more than deep wagon tracks. When parts deteriorated and
became unusable, that section was bypassed, and a parallel track developed. In theory
the owner of the land, over which a main road ran, was responsible for its
maintenance and upkeep. Thus a variant of the concept of the Tragedy of the
Commons was experienced as regards these roads. A lackadaisical attitude to repairs ensued with the tardy local
farmers lethargically filling in ruts with loose material. It is safe to say that
the farmers possessed a mitigated factor for the lack of maintenance as the
sheer volume of traffic over the most important roads made adequate maintenance
Inggs laments that “until
the 1840s, the government did precious little to keep Eastern Cape roads in
good repair apart from setting up tolls, such as the one at Port Elizabeth”.
Much like the current fiscal practice of not ring-fencing income for a specific
project or budget line item, the Colonial Government merely treated this income
as part of the pool of revenue. Even though it was theoretically deemed to
finance road maintenance, it was rarely utilised for local road maintenance.
“The main reason for the “execrable condition” of
the Cape roads was the colony’s general lack of funds.Therefore as was
the case with local harbour development, it was left to private enterprise to
take the initiative. Grahamstown residents, for example, subscribed funds for a
new road through Howieson’s Poort in the early 1830s. But this kind of venture
was always undercapitalised, and the roads involved usually little better than
the rest. Other improvements were limited to privately operated punts at the
major rivers and numerous inns to accommodate wealthy travellers”.
The first ray of hope for improvement in these rutted roads
which ineluctably compelled the ox wagons to a slow walking pace arose in 1838
with the appointment of a new governor, Sir George Napier. One of the immediate
needs that he identified was the upgrading of the Port Elizabeth – Grahamstown road.
Faced with the prospect of further Xhosa incursions across a porous border, the
army also expressed an interest in road construction. It was the treasury which
had to express their displeasure at this suggestion in the starkest terms
claiming that the treasury’s cupboards were bare. To rub salt into the treasury’s
wounds, the Government Engineer, Major CC Mitchell, in the late 1830s revived interest
in a general colonial road scheme. The adoption of this scheme would have
spread the limited funds over a vaster distance much like attempting to feed
the multitude with one container of peanut butter.
It was during the 1840s that three factors combined to bring
the proverbial road pot to the boil again. Firstly aside from the rapidly
expanding wool trade with its increasing volumes, the new prosperity generated
revenue which could be applied to road building. Secondly “the continued
disturbed state of the frontier awakened official and public opinion to the necessity
of good roads. It was not until 1843 that the………………..master mind of John Montegu
[found] convincing formulation and
This was to result in Montegu
setting up a central road board which were supported by a series of local
boards. For this purpose, they utilised the colony’s convicts exclusively for the
construction of the main roads. “Unfortunately the main consideration was
the improvement of communications between Cape Town and the Frontier”. Naturally Port Elizabeth, much to their
chagrin, wanted their town to be the hub of the road network in the Eastern Cape.
Bypassing Port Elizabeth fanned the flames of the Separation fire as the
residents of the region once again considered themselves the spurned bride at the
The next colonial official to
take up the cudgels on behalf of the Eastern Cape in 1847 was the newly arrived
Lieutenant Governor, Sir Henry Young, an ardent separatist. Almost immediately,
he reported the deleterious effects of Montagu’s road system on the Eastern
Province. These protestations fell on the deaf ears of Executive Council which
promptly rejected his concerns on the basis that Montagu’s system was to be
given a 7-8-year trial period.
Inggs notes that “It has
been shown that the western dominance of Montagu’s road system has been grossly
exaggerated. In fact, the eastern districts got 25% more from Board Funds than it was
entitled to between 1844 and 1855”. Road
building was held up due to spite but rather
due to other exogenous factors. Construction was interrupted due the outbreak
of the War of the Axe from 1846 -47. Work
was suspended until 1848 when 250 convicts were allocated to the priority
project viz the Zuurberg Pass. Its status as a priority arose from the necessity
to bypass the circuitous route via Grahamstown for traffic from Cradock and
Colesberg. Further work after the
completion of the Zuurberg Pass in 1850, was delayed due to the outbreak of the
8th Frontier War from 1850 to 1853. The reopening of the Zuurberg
Pass in December 1853 was the swansong of Grahamstown as an important
The status quo was maintained
until 1864 when the Divisional Councils were made responsible for maintaining
government main roads.
of Jon Inggs, “Liverpool of the Cape: Port Elizabeth Harbour
Development 1820-70“, MA thesis, Rhodes University, 1986
The objective of any biography is to obtain an understanding of what motivates that person and how they handle situations, especially the troublesome ones. Essentially what one attempts to do, is to understand what makes a person tick. Even in the best cases, vital pieces of evidence are missing, hidden behind the veil of their private lives. Just ask a divorced person for a resume of their ex-spouse and compare the response with what is publicly known about the person. The mask will slip, and the real person will be revealed. So it is with Francis McCleland except that Francis’ obnoxious actions towards third parties became common knowledge and were not restricted to one person. Being so egregious, the other parties took public umbrage at Francis’ actions and hence his personality – or at least to the putrescent bits.