Text & Photographs by Chris Marais
When it’s high summer in Bree Street, Cradock you really don’t want to be anywhere else in the world.
The jacarandas that line the Karoo river town’s oldest-surviving heritage avenue are in full bloom, and the leiwater furrows fed by the Great Fish River are gurgling away.
The houses on the river side of Bree Street mostly have back yards so big you could farm fruit and vegetables for a living – if you had the patience, the savvy and the right seeds for the job.
The Methodist church has the finest rectory around – in fact, its first-floor balcony gives it the mood and aspect of a French Quarter mansion in New Orleans. The local Methodist priest is truly a lucky fish.
The Anglican Parish of the Great Fish River, St Peter’s, is not far away. Beautifully built from local stone and consecrated in 1858, this Gothic-style place of worship serves a small but devoted current-day community of worshippers.
The Flood of 1974
Bree Street is a quiet little country thoroughfare these days, but back in March of 1974 it was a totally different story down there.
The Great Fish River, which feeds the district, was in high flood. Up at Fish River Station, 40km from town, the river went on the rampage and washed away entire fields.
On its way to the coast, the flooding river gathered up all manner of floating debris which began to stack up against the two bridges in Cradock. As the waters dammed up against the bridges, they spread into the town, causing immense damage.
Remember, Karoo homes were built of sun-baked mud bricks back then. And the floodwaters turned them back into sludge. Although St Peter’s took a hit, it still stands today because of its sturdy stone construction.
Commotion at the Club
At the Cradock Club, another solid edifice, members were rushing about like worker ants trying to save precious artefacts and memorabilia.
First order of business at the club was to rescue the priceless 12-seater Burmese teak leather-topped table. With typical Midlands farming ingenuity, the members rushed in with 44-gallon drums and used them to float the table and other bits of furniture above the floodwaters.
Author Bartle Logie records in his book Water in the Wilderness (Bluecliff Publishing, 2006) that one of the club members, Callie Calitz, quipped:
“So long as you weren’t a midget, it was just possible at the height of the flood to keep on drinking (at the bar).”
In fact, there is a flood-mark at one of the entrances to the Cradock Club bar and yes, it is about chest-height.
A Gentlemen’s Club
The Cradock Club, which has had a steady membership of 150 men for many years, was established in 1881 – the same year the railway line came to the town.
“Just to put it into historical context, that was the American era of Billy the Kid,” said Lou Venter, a former club chairman who guided us around the establishment.
The Anglo-Boer War (now termed the South African War) put a temporary end to initial Boer-Brit cordialities. Cradock was firmly in British control and one of the occupying regiments, the Sherwood Foresters, took over the club.
Many battles and skirmishes occurred all over the region, especially in the latter part of the war when Boer flying commando units harassed the British, who were initially less mobile.
Oh So British
But there was never a fight in Cradock itself. In fact, there seems to have been a fair amount of “down time” because British soldiers dotted at various lookout posts in the impressive array of mountains around Cradock played heliograph chess against each other. The legend goes that occasionally a Boer farmer would secretly join in the game.
You’ll notice on a walk-through that the Cradock Club has a very English air to it. Stained glass doors, dark wood, ancient hat and coat hooks, portraits of English kings, hunting scenes, a reading room, a billiard room and a distant lounge area where the bridge ladies (and some guys) now gather every week to play.
The club’s first location was elsewhere (a building no longer standing), but in 1955 it was moved to its present spot, a large 1850 period double-storey manse in Bree Street.
A portion of the original bar was installed in the new premises. If you look carefully at the marble counter, you can see a small cross showing true north. That was scratched in by one of the Sherwood Foresters, who was missing England so far away.
The Snuff Horn
When the Sherwood Foresters finally went home in 1901, they left behind the Burmese teak table, which now has pride of place in the club’s reading room. They also left behind a fantastical snuff box.
Built out of a hollowed-out Highland sheep horn and decorated with silver and amethyst crystals, the Sherwood Forester snuff box used to be passed along from officer to officer in the club.
And although it’s hard to gauge its worth in coin, you get the notion that the snuff box in the Cradock Club has immense nostalgic value for members past and present.
Outside is a venerable Ilex (Holly) Oak, densely green and thick-stemmed. It was first planted in 1850 along with a nearby twin Ilex oak that was mysteriously burnt down in a fire in 2006.
The Big Tree
These trees are said to be the oldest in the world and the remaining one is a national monument. They were not used for ship building like other oaks because the wood does not split and it’s difficult to work.
Going back to the bar, it is clear to see that the local sense of humour is in full spate here. The walls are lined with trophies donated by locals (mostly farmers). It’s a hunted selection of critters, ranging from kudu, warthog and blesbok to an aardwolf above the whisky dispensers. There’s even a baboon with somebody’s old school tie around its neck.
Membership access is strictly controlled. Only a Cradock Club member can propose another prospective member, and this must also be seconded. If accepted, the proposed member’s name is put on the board and he is allowed there ‘on appro’. In February every year, at the AGM, ‘new members’ are decided upon.
If the member is rejected, the person who proposed him and seconded his nomination could also be ejected from the club.
A member may invite temporary members (tourists) in for an evening.
“Rules is Rules”
And the club rules are quite clear:
- Everyone entering the bar must shake hands with everyone else at the bar;
- No flip-flops and T-shirts with advertising messages allowed;
- No swearing allowed;
- No ungentlemanly behaviour is tolerated anywhere in the club;
- You’re not permitted to bring the club into disrepute;
- Anyone caught talking about politics, religion or business has to buy a round of drinks.
“In fact,” says Lou Venter, who owns a gun-and-jewellery shop in Cradock, “Members will sometimes try to trick one into buying a round of drinks by asking, for instance, about the price of a .308 cartridge…”
Cradock Club: Tel: 048 881 2889
Enjoyed this article on the Cradock Club – excellent! A nephew has sent me a pic of the plaque on the clock in the reading room. One of the 1903 donors was A S Flemmer – one of the Flemmers who came to Cradock from Denmark in 1853. I wrote a book about this family (my mother was a Flemmer) https://www.flemmerfamily.co.za/the-sa-can-flemmer-family
A.S. Flemmer can be found at https://docs.wixstatic.com/ugd/69400e_3beee32a86da4eb4b84eaf179b57b42b.pdf
We have held two wonderful Flemmer Reunions in Cradock – next time I’ll come and see the clock for myself! Best wishes Steve
Out of interest – My grandfather, JH (Johnny) Hofmeyr was Chairman/President of Cradock Club for 12 consecutive years!
This may be an inappropriate area, but PLEASE keep me on the list. I am a dedicated reader of Karoospace, even though I do not often comment on the delightfully educative and fascinating snippets of Karoo-life with which you treat us.
Yes, please continue.
I grew up in Cradock and I love reading about it. My father was Lukas Potgieter who started the Albert Koöperasie Factory (made animal feed in tablet form) in the industrial area. Both my parents are buried in the cemetery in Cradock. I can remember the 1974 flood – the year my youngest brother was born.