Forgotten wars
MOST of the war memorials (see page 1 this week) in Britain’s towns, cities and villages date from just after the First World War, usually with the names of those who died in the Second World War added afterwards.
But there are a few in Bristol from before this time. In fact, it’s claimed that Bristol has the oldest “war memorial” in the country.
This is the 79th Regiment of Foot memorial near Christchurch in Clifton, close to the obelisk memorialising William Pitt.
It was commissioned by William Draper in the 1760s to commemorate the feats of the regiment he raised, the 79th Foot (not to be confused with a later 79th, which became the Cameron Highlanders). Draper’s 79th fought in India and – famously at the time – captured Manila from the Spaniards during the Seven Years War.
Sir William Draper had the monument commemorating the deeds of his regiment erected in the grounds of his Clifton Home, Manilla (sic) Hall, along with the Pitt obelisk, though both were moved to their present positions in the 1890s when Manil(l)a Hall/ House became a Roman Catholic convent.
Then there’s the Second Boer War (usually just known as the Boer War) (1899-1902), a contest between the might of the British Empire and the South African Republic and Orange Free State, and in which a bunch of white South African farmers, usually of Dutch ancestry, inflicted a succession of humiliating defeats on the British army.
The Boer War isn’t popular; any outsider looking in wouldn’t root for either side. It was basically provoked by the British who saw the Boer republics’ increasing assertiveness as a threat to the empire in Africa. It featured the use of what the British called “concentration camps” to isolate Boer fighters from civilian support. Conditions in the camps led to thousands of needless deaths of civilians. The Boers proved adept guerrilla fighters, who ran rings around the British army. It was only through the enlistment of thousands that the war was finally won, at great cost in money, lives and imperial prestige. It taught the empire, in Kipling’s words, “no end of a lesson”.
Yes indeed, the British empire was responsible for plenty of terrible things, but the mistreatment of ethnic Europeans who were themselves colonists, and who were the forebears of the people who brought in the Apartheid system in South Africa is not something that anyone except Afrikaaners chooses to remember. Of course those who suffered the very most were the Black South Africans whose lands the Europeans were fighting over.
At the time, the Boer War, known in Britain at the time as the “South African War” was a very big deal indeed. It was the biggest conflict Britain had been involved in for almost a century. The little Victorian army, which was basically just a police force at the edges of empire, was vastly expanded.
It was the high-water-mark of imperialist jingoism; men flocked to the recruiting offices, though many were turned away. One of the shocking side-effects of the war was the way in which military recruiters reported the numbers of would-be soldiers suffering from chronic health problems. There followed an outbreak of concern over the health of the working classes, not out of any tender feelings for the poor, but because, in an age of social Darwinism (a misunderstanding of his expression “survival of the fittest”) and “scientific” racism, the upper classes fretted over the “fitness” of the British race.
The Boer War was the first “modern” war Britain had experienced. Instead of fighting poorly-armed native peoples, they were up against white men whose Rand gold meant they were equipped with the very latest European weapons (mostly from Germany). It was modern in that the telegraph meant that news from the front reached home within minutes. It was modern in that nearly everyone was literate, and devoured detailed reports. It was modern also in that movie footage of the fighting packed people into picture houses (even though some of it was shot on Hampstead Heath using actors …)
It was also the first war in which the dead were commemorated with numerous permanent memorials. In Bristol, these were at Clifton College and Bristol Grammar School (which also listed the old boys who had served and returned) – does anyone know of any others in the Bristol area?
Then there’s the Gloucestershire Regiment Boer War memorial in front of the Vic Rooms. There’s a lot of names on that plinth.
Should I live to be 150 I’d like to research and write a book about Bristol’s part in the Boer War, because it’s been so overlooked. Hundreds from Bristol fought in the war, for the most part honest and decent men swept up by events, many of them to die in battle (or, equally often, of disease) at the other end of the earth.
Their names live for ever more. Or at any rate as long as the memorials last. But nine out of ten people passing by the Gloucesters memorial or Draper’s monument nowadays won’t know a thing about the Boer War, much less the Seven Years War.
Mutiny on the …
Well that’s Christmas ruined. Everyone took time off from contemplating the horrors of the world to bemoan the fact that Mars Inc., a huge American corporation which has long since owned several wellknown “British” food, drink and pet food brands, had announced it was selling tubs of its Celebrations choccies without the little Bounty bars in.
It seems that Bounty is the Marmite of the confectionery world, but I know which side I’m on. Bounty bars, which have only been around since the 1950s, are one of the newest chocolate bars in your local corner shop. Mars Bars (1932), Milky Way (1923), Crunchie (1929), Snickers (1930, and originally called Marathon in Britain because the bosses fears everyone would laugh at its nominative proximity to knickers, but changed in 1990 because noone under the age of 70 says knickers anymore) are all older, though none comes close to the grandmama of them all, Fry’s Chocolate Cream (1866 and still going strong).
Mars say that around 40% of Celebrations customers don’t like Bounties. But I’m with the 18% for whom they’re the favourite. Despite the bits of shredded coconut getting stuck in your teeth, Bounty is the candy bar of the gods, and the dinky little ones in the Celebrations tub are the highlight of Christmas (aside from the presents, the pigs-in-blankets, the getting drunk and – since the pandemic – the death of Secret Santa). Its removal is a scanda…
… Oh. Right. They’re only removing the Bounties from some tubs and these Bounty-free versions will only be available in a few dozen stores.
Complete non-story then, and a GALAXY’s worth of free publicity for Celebrations. Well that was a TWIX in the tale. WISPA who dares, but the media just ran that story as a (Mal)TEASER thinking it would be BOUNTY get a reaction or at least raise a few SNICKERS and … Stop this at once. Ed.
So anyway, the other day Mrs Latimer asked me if I wanted anything down the corner shop. I said, “I’d like a Kit-Kat Chunky”
And she said, “Steady on. You’re not so thin yourself.”
Another time it was my turn to go down and asked her if she wanted anything, and said “I’d like a Boost.”
I said “You’re looking great for your age.”
Ok, ok, I’m going.
Cheers then!