Gallery Samples Stories of our Ancestors | Page 19

LISA born about 1898. I have to mention this last child; the only one to have died in infancy,
for the reason that Ruby insisted I do. Apparently a large fabric manufacturing business
was functioning upstream from where they were living. The process required dying and
letting the wash-off into the stream from which little Lisa, called ‘Tootsie’, aged about two,
drank and was poisoned.
With all things considered it was something of a miracle that all eight of the surviving children
lived until ripe old ages.
At some point the family must have moved from Hope’s Garden, as Carl Gustav’s one surviving
letter which is at the end this Part, was dated 1889, and he gave his address as Upper Hill
Street
The purpose of my writing all of this is an attempt to find the people who lived behind the
names and dates on the charts. Where did they fit into the history of the country at the times?
What kind of people were they? How much formal education did they have, if any? How did
they live their lives? Did they even wonder if they were happy being who and what they were?
How difficult was it being a pioneer of a ‘new’ country?
Looking at this history from the perspective of the 21st century, one is overwhelmed by the
difficulties and imagines a life of burdens and hardship. To imagine having given birth to nine
children by the time Catherine was 37 is mind-boggling. Then to realise that she gave birth to
these nine children without modern medical assistance and afterwards had to live in that body
and bring up all those children!
How wonderful that they were reputed to be a happy, smiling family.
And on that note, I can tell you one little story about life at the Anderssons in the latter half of
the 19th century and into the 20th century. Unfortunately it’s the only story I have.
Of the nine children six were boys, and no doubt allowed far more freedom than the two
remaining girls whose domestic duties must have kept them busy most of the day. Theirs was
a garrison town and the citizens had to be carefully protected from marauders and sudden
attacks. But you’ve got history books to tell you all that.
In order to both inform and alert the citizens of this small town, noon-day guns would fire and
the citizens would know ‘All is well, you can now knock off for lunch. Mom get the dinner on
the table, Dad will be home in two minutes’.
And the villagers could eat their dinner and carry on peacefully as usual. The understanding
was that if there was danger lurking at any time other than twelve noon, the guns would be
fired to alert the people who must immediately leave whatever they’re doing and descend
upon the Town Hall to await further instructions.
The Andersson boys one day lit gunfire in a paraffin tin. (What IS it about boys and explosives?
I asked Russel who told me from his experiences that it’s creative and satisfying to make such a
Very Big Bang! I still don’t get it, but OK.)
It was not twelve noon, and the explosions that followed sounded like the canons going off and
sent the town into high alert. Everyone downed tools, gathered offspring in great alarm and
rushed to safety. The whole of Grahamstown including the garrison descended on the Town
Hall – and utter confusion followed, as they realised that it was a mysterious false alarm.

19