The Lion and the Thespian: The True Story of Prime Minister JG Strydom's Marriage to the Actress Marda Vanne

Bloomberg

1910–1923

1

Margaretha, this is no way for a fourteen-year-old to behave! Learn to behave like a lady.

Willem van Hulsteyn’s blood was boiling, the veins in his neck set to burst.

"You are not paying attention to your lessons, fighting with your classmates, disrespectful to your teachers … Your mother and I are embarrassed beyond measure. What on earth will people say? The community looks up to us, holds the family name in high regard. And now letters of complaint from your school …"

Van Hulsteyn tried to compose himself, determined that his humiliation would not get the better of him. But still, he had a point to make, and make it he would. This young woman was not going to drag this family and its legacy through the mud, invite shame and ridicule.

We love you very much – you know that – and want only the best for you. And that includes a fine education, so that one day you can go to university, get a degree, practise a profession and make a name for yourself. We Dutch people are blessed as white people and have to take advantage of our God-given task of helping to lead this country.

You don’t understand, Pa – I don’t want to be a lawyer like you. I don’t want to go to university. I have told you and Ma many times … I want to be an actress. I need to be in the theatre. I have no interest in school, in politics. It’s the theatre. Only the theatre.

Van Hulsteyn felt his anger rising again, his hands start to shake.

"Goeie genugtig, man! You should be ashamed of yourself speaking like that, he hissed. Die teater? Theatre people, they are a different class to the Van Hulsteyns. I don’t know any of my colleagues who have family, or friends for that matter, in the theatre. Theatre people are different to us: they dress differently, they drink too much, they are promiscuous and they can’t even earn a decent living. No, the theatre’s no place for a Van Hulsteyn."

But, Pa, you perform! What about the cello? You play at concerts …

"My girl, I studied the cello for many years, and the concerts in which I perform are dignified. Ordentlik. We don’t dress up and put make-up on our faces. And the music we play is religious, the kind that is appreciated by our people."

I also want to study for the theatre … you know – acting. So that one day I can be a great actress and maybe get into a company like the one that that Brit, that Leonard Rayne, started here in Pretoria. Actors aren’t as you think they are, Pa. They are decent, well-educated people from England.

"I might understand if it was the Afrikaans theatre that interested you, but English theatre … My God, meisie, Afrikaans has become our first language and we are now respected, highly regarded members of the Afrikaner community. My liewe hemel, kind, this country is still struggling to recover from a war we fought against the British only ten years ago."

"But, Pa, weren’t you on the side of the British during that war?"

The audacity of this child!

"Margaretha! I was an adviser – an adviser! You were no more than a child when the king knighted me – for my services, not for fighting on any side. But times have changed … Many of the Afrikaners trace their heritage to Holland, so we Dutch have an affinity with them. A duty."

Sir Willem van Hulsteyn was born in the Netherlands in 1865 and, having come to South Africa as a teenager, qualified as a lawyer and rose to become the senior partner of a distinguished legal firm that bore his name. Although conscious of demonstrating impartiality, he took a keen interest in politics and was not reticent in expressing views on contentious issues topical at the time, namely the Transvaal Indians, Chinese Labour and the Gold Law. Towards the end of the nineteenth century, the British sat up and took notice and he was appointed adviser to the ardent imperialist, the then Lord Alfred Milner, British Governor of the Cape and High Commissioner whose intransigence and pursuit of British suzerainty was largely responsible for the outbreak of the Boer War, known also as the Second Boer War or the South African War. When Britain annexed the Orange Free State and the Transvaal, Milner – with Van Hulsteyn as part of ‘Milner’s Kindergarten’ – assumed administration of the two Boer territories and, as High Commissioner, together with his military commander, Lord Kitchener, negotiated the Peace Treaty of Vereeniging, which ended the war and the independence of the Boer republics.

Post war, Milner’s uncompromising attitude, notably his insistence on the use of English in schools, gave rise to much Afrikaner unrest and he was recalled to England and became Viscount Milner. Van Hulsteyn returned to his legal practice and, in 1902, was knighted by King Edward VII for his services to the Empire. Although somewhat anglicised by his association with the British, Sir Willem managed a transition towards Afrikaans culture where his influence spread far and wide.

Apart from his prowess as an attorney and politician, the cultured Sir Willem attained distinction as a cellist of concert standard. His instrument was specially made for him as a collaboration between the very important Paris school of violinmakers, HC Silvestre and Ernest Maucotel. Having become a man of some affluence, he spent a considerable sum of money acquiring a pristine Stradivari cello.

Sir Willem’s alignment with the British continued to weaken and in time the Van Hulsteyns turned with consummate ease to the Afrikaner social elite. Lady Margaretha was charming and elegant, but did not enjoy the best of health and Sir Willem attended to many of the parental duties concerning their daughter. At one stage, early in their marriage, Lady Margaretha was confined to a wheelchair and it was said that her husband was less than pleased having to escort her to social events in such a condition.

Ever since her birth in 1896, the Van Hulsteyns struggled to control their boisterous and recalcitrant daughter. She had a strong will and even in her early teens was a non-conformist, a tomboy entirely absorbed in everything to do with the theatre. At school she was a leading light in theatricals and volunteered to perform every role, male or female. Undoubtedly very talented, she yearned to be in plays that were far beyond the ability of her fellow scholars. But her exuberant nature brought her into conflict with fellow students and she fought with them over matters that were considered trifling. Not content with a verbal lambasting, Margaretha seemed to enjoy fisticuffs and wasn’t afraid to throw a punch or two. As a result of her aggressive and determined spirit, which resulted in her being involved in many scraps, a schoolteacher started calling her ‘Scrappy’ and the nickname remained with her for the rest of her life.

Scrappy was mature beyond her age. Of average height for a teenager, she had a good figure, was striking without being considered pretty in the conventional sense, and her brown hair showed off a well-proportioned face. Her voice complemented the look: low, well modulated and distinctive. What struck one most was that this was a confident young lady. She was still very young when she learned that Oscar Asche, the well-known Australian man of the theatre, was coming to South Africa. Asche’s main claim to fame was that he had written, acted in and directed the record-breaking musical Chu Chin Chow. His wife, Lily Brayton, was primarily a Shakespearean actress but had appeared in Chu Chin Chow some 2000 times. As actor-managers, Asche and Brayton enjoyed great success in London and New York, and managed and owned several West End theatres. In Johannesburg they had considerable success with Antony and Cleopatra, in which a very young and nervous Scrappy, with the help of her school acting teacher, had managed to infiltrate herself into the cast as an extra whose sole function was to scatter rose petals before Cleopatra’s throne. For this, her professional theatre debut, she received two shillings and sixpence a week. Scrappy had put her heart and soul into her appearances and was dismayed at the end of the run when Asche cruelly told her that she was useless and that it would be advisable that she find another career. However, she did use part of her earnings to buy a gift for her mother, who had remained ignorant of her daughter’s entry into stage life, believing that Scrappy was rehearsing at school each night for a forthcoming play. During the course of the run, a huge controversy had arisen. Asche had imported from America four of whom were termed at the time ‘Negroes’ to appear as slaves in several scenes. Local stage hands and extras took strong exception and declared a strike, which disrupted the play until the visiting actors had been replaced by local slaves.

Still a schoolgirl, Scrappy took an unusual interest in the Leonard Rayne Theatre Company, which was attracting a great deal of attention and was to dominate the legitimate stage in South Africa for the first twenty-five years of the twentieth century.

Leonard Rayne was the stage name of William Hannay Watts Cowie, who started his theatre life in London as a call boy and prompt. After some time he graduated to become a member of the repertory at Sadler’s Wells and was eventually accepted into the William J Holloway Company, which toured South Africa and, in 1895, opened in Johannesburg with a production of Othello. After returning to London, the call of the emerging theatre in South Africa proved irresistible and in 1898 Rayne returned with his own company. The Guv’nor – as he was known in the profession – married actress Amy Grace but also found time to have a son with his lover and leading lady, Freda Godfrey. While this indiscretion would not have met the moral standards of Sir Willem, the star-struck Scrappy would have been unperturbed and, in defiance of her parents, secretly wrote to the Guv’nor several times, asking for permission to attend his rehearsals.

As an actor-manager, Leonard Rayne was prolific and early in the twentieth century, between Cape Town and Johannesburg, produced numerous new plays and was particularly successful with The Flag Lieutenant, in response to which a prominent critic wrote: More than ordinary care has been expended on the piece both in manner of representation and the staging and Mr Rayne played ‘Lascelles’ with unwonted buoyancy and humour, and in the scenes where the part required dignity and feeling, he likewise met its demands in an entirely brilliant manner.

However, when the box office was not ticking over to his liking, the Guv’nor tended to revive his productions of the dependable successes East Lynne and A Royal Divorce, perennial favourites with audiences in Johannesburg and Cape Town. In 1906, Ada Reeve, one of England’s most successful musical comedy actresses, appeared at the Tivoli in Cape Town and, famous for singing risqué songs with an angelic voice of innocence, captivated audiences with her famous rendition of ‘If I should plant a tiny seed of love, Within the garden of your heart …’, swiftly followed by songs with lyrics a lot naughtier. After the formation of the Union of South Africa, Ada Reeve returned to Johannesburg and entered into partnership with Leonard Rayne to top the bill at the Standard Theatre. Freda Godfrey was second on the bill and when she seemed to get more applause than the star, Ada demanded that Rayne dismiss Godfrey.

On what grounds? asked the Guv’nor.

What do I care about grounds? She’s too young, too pretty and too clever. Get her off the bill.

During the First World War, Rayne signed up and was stationed at Lüderitz, in what was then South West Africa, where his duties as captain were no more onerous than to distribute gifts to the troops. As a result, he was nicknamed ‘OC Plum Pudding’, some said because of the gifts but others suggest it may have been more to do with his increasing waistline … After the war he returned to his several theatres, which in the meantime were thriving, and offered complimentary tickets to any person in uniform.

Scrappy’s awe for Leonard Rayne was such that when her letters to him remained unanswered, one afternoon she used her bicycle chain to attach herself to a lamppost at the stage-door entrance to the theatre and refused to budge until she was admitted to the rehearsal that was taking place. When policemen eventually succeeded in unchaining her, she screamed at them, using language that would almost certainly not have been acceptable in the Van Hulsteyn household. The two Afrikaner constables, unaccustomed to having to restrain a young white girl, were on the point of forcing her into a Black Maria when the impressive figure of Leonard Rayne emerged from the stage door to see what the scuffle was about.

Oh, Mr Rayne, I was only trying to get permission to attend your rehearsals. I would be really quiet and wouldn’t be a nuisance.

Dear girl, chaining yourself to a lamppost doesn’t seem to me a very sensible way to gain admission to a theatre. I thought I had left the suffragettes behind in England.

I wrote to you several times asking for permission, but have never received a reply …

Well, I’m sorry, Miss …?

Scrappy. Scrappy van Hulsteyn.

Scrappy? How odd. A nickname?

Yes. I’m afraid I get into a lot of scraps at school so everyone calls me ‘Scrappy’ – everyone, that is, except my parents. They are adamant that they named me Margaretha, which is also my mother’s name, and refuse to call me anything else. But my friends, and my parents, they don’t really understand me. You see, I’m in love with the theatre … It’s the only thing that really interests me.

By now the constables seemed satisfied that the English gentleman had calmed the young lady and were more than happy to move along.

Scrappy, do you have other names?

"I do. I am Margaretha van Hulsteyn – but I despise the name Margaretha. It is so prim and proper, just not me. Maybe one day when I’m a great actress I will give myself a nice stage name."

Whoa! You have a long way to go before you become an actress, let alone a great one. Van Hulsteyn – that’s a familiar name. Wait a moment; I attended a concert the other night given by a cellist and I am sure his name was something like that.

Yes, Sir Willem van Hulsteyn; he’s my father.

My, you come from the Afrikaans aristocracy. And I was told he was playing on a Stradivari … must be a wealthy man!

"Sir, I don’t want to be a part of the aristocracy. I just want to make a life in the theatre. In school plays everyone tells me that I have talent."

Look, young lady, we can’t go on talking on a street corner. Come with me and I’ll take you backstage.

Entering the stage door, Scrappy was passing into the world of her dreams. Wide-eyed, she followed the Guv’nor, past the dressing rooms and through the flats onto a stage dimly lit by the working light where a bustle of activity gave some indication of the progress being made in preparations for the forthcoming production of The Merchant of Venice. The whiff of greasepaint, actors cueing each other with lines, costumes being fitted, spot- and floodlights being adjusted, a man atop a ladder manoeuvring something in the flies, scenery receiving touch-ups in order to give a semblance of sixteenth-century Venice, and a stage manager barking instructions to several crew members at a time. Scrappy loved it all immediately … She had no doubt that this was her future.

Following the South African War, Rayne’s devotion to Shakespeare was particularly appreciated by the English-speaking community and on more than one occasion the great actor-manager presented Macbeth, Hamlet, Othello, The Merchant of Venice and Julius Caesar, all within a few weeks, with the Guv’nor assigning to himself the lead in each play. A prodigious feat. On this occasion it was The Merchant and, on her own in the third row centre, Scrappy was fortunate to observe the maestro himself, his rich and commanding voice eloquently declaring to the Venetian people that even those who do not share the culture of the majority are still human.

I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?

While probably not entirely aware of the range of emotions at play in this monologue, Scrappy grasped Shylock’s pledge that as he was equipped with the same faculties as a Christian he should be entitled to behave as villainously as they do. She was also enraptured listening to Portia’s eloquent plea to Shylock to abandon justice and demonstrate mercy.

The quality of mercy is not strained.

Mr Rayne, Scrappy was quite breathless when she approached him during a break in the schedule, that was the most wonderful experience and now, more than ever, I want to become an actress. Please may I come to more of your rehearsals?

"You seem a very dedicated young lady and I would be delighted to have you, but I’m going to go one better. The Merchant opens on Saturday and it would be a great honour if you and Sir Willem and Lady van Hulsteyn would attend. I have another distinguished guest that night: a Tswana by the name of Sol Plaatje, a man supposedly of some intellect who recently became a founding member and secretary-general of the new South African Native National Congress. I look forward to meeting him and perhaps your parents would find that interesting too."

* * *

"Margaretha, your mother and I have received an invitation to the theatre on Saturday and it seems that you are included. Do you have anything to do with this?

Ja, Pa, the director Leonard Rayne is a friend of mine.

A friend? How do you know him?

Well, I spoke to him in the street outside the theatre and he invited me to watch a rehearsal.

That’s preposterous! How is it that a young lady can allow herself to be accosted in the street by a man probably three times her age? And what were you doing there? Aren’t you supposed to be at Bible classes in the afternoons?

Pa, he’s not that kind of man. He’s an intellectual and a wonderful actor. He was very kind to me.

"I bet he was – picking up girls in the street. Wat op aarde—"

"Please, Pa, he’s a decent man and so cultured. I think you will like him. It’s a wonderful play … Do you know The Merchant of Venice?"

All I need to know is that the ‘merchant’ is the Jew Shylock – a nasty piece of work.

"Ag nee, Pa, Shylock only wants equal rights for the Jews. He says the Jews are human too – and the language, it is so beautiful. Please can we go? It is such an opportunity for me."

"The invitation says that we will be sitting in the same row as that Native, Plaatje. I’ve read about him; he’s the one who is wanting equal rights. Equal rights, I ask you … Equal rights! But nothing will come of it! These groups, like that Native National Congress, come and go. I’ve nothing against the Natives, of course, but these people must know their place. They must know it. But all right, meisie, I suppose we can take a chance but heaven help us all if the Kerk gets to hear about this. My sitting next to a Native won’t go down too well."

Oh, thank you, Pa. Thank you.

As it turned out, The Merchant of Venice exceeded the expectations of Willem and Margaretha van Hulsteyn. This was far removed from the biblical plays at the Kerksaal they were accustomed to – and the acting a far cry from Oom Piet’s and Tannie Essie’s finest performances in the Kersfees play. Scrappy was, naturally, overwhelmed; once the curtain had fallen she proclaimed, with tears in her eyes, this to be the best day of her life. Invited to drinks backstage afterwards, the Van Hulsteyns met Leonard Rayne, and Sir Willem, particularly, seemed to enjoy talking to him, even claiming later that he was pleasantly surprised to find that the actor was quite a normal person. Sol Plaatje was also doing the rounds backstage and, on being introduced to Sir Willem proffered his hand, which was accepted with some reluctance and without much vigour or enthusiasm.

So, Sol, you the one running this Congress that has intentions of taking over the country?

No, Sir Willem, I am indeed the secretary-general of the Congress, but it is not our aim to take over the country. We are bitterly disappointed that under the new Union of South Africa my people have been excluded politically. It may have been the British who did not insist on my people having at least an educational qualified franchise, but you Afrikaners were complicit in our exclusion. We are at this time a peaceful organisation aspiring to unite our people against the discrimination we are suffering. To put it mildly, and I suggest not unreasonably, this is also our country.

I hear what you say, Sol, but aren’t you somewhat premature? Do you not need some more education before you and your people are ready for equality?

Sir Willem, I am a committed Christian, a qualified teacher, a published writer; I am fluent in five languages, I play the violin and the piano, and I have travelled to England twice, to the United States of America and to Canada – is that not sufficiently educated for you?

Van Hulsteyn was at a loss for words at this upstart. Voorbarig was the term he used later. Forward. Pushy. Presumptuous even.

The Guv’nor became very fond of Scrappy; he admired her dedication to the theatre and took seriously her ambition to become an actress. He allowed her to attend rehearsals and on Saturday nights to hang around backstage doing odd jobs or running errands for him. Often she assisted other members of the company by cueing them their lines and, when invited, held the prompt book and became adept at feeding a cue when an actor dried. She became a popular, if unofficial, member of the company and her warm personality and growing confidence won her a number of friends among the casts and crew.

There was also a flirtatious side to Scrappy. Despite being no more than a teenager, or perhaps because she was so much younger than the rest of the company, it was not beyond her to make suggestive or sometimes inappropriate remarks to both actors and staff of both sex. Fortunately, her behaviour did not cause offence and was forgiven coming from a young lady who had not yet achieved maturity. However, actors tended to be very sensitive to sexuality and there were whisperings as to which side of the divide Scrappy would emerge. After two years of an informal apprenticeship with the Leonard Rayne Company, and with Scrappy now in her late teens, the maestro decided to have a chat with her.

Scrappy, my dear, it is already two years that you have been part of my company and we love having you with us.

Mr Rayne, sir, what a privilege it has been for me. I have learned so much; I just can’t wait to become a full member, if you will have me.

My dear, we must put this into perspective. Undoubtedly, you are very talented, but you have a lot more to learn and need a considerable amount of training before you are ready to become a professional actress. All senior members here have earned their spurs by being trained overseas either at a drama school or in weekly repertory theatres. And if you are serious in becoming an actress, let alone a great actress, as you often proclaim your ambition to be, you need to study in London.

Oh, I realise I need to be trained, preferably overseas.

There is no ‘preferably overseas’, my dear: it has to be in London. Your … let’s call it ‘local’ accent … would be fine in Afrikaans theatre but my company is an English company and my ear is not attuned to Shakespeare being spoken other than in the dialect in which I was trained and to which I am accustomed. Listening to you speak, particularly when you have filled in reading at rehearsals, I have no doubt that you have a fine voice, an excellent timbre and that you have a natural projection. You already have a style of your own that I’m confident will stand you in good stead.

Can I not find a local speech teacher in the meantime? To take lessons until I am ready to go overseas?

Firstly, I don’t know of a sufficiently qualified person, but more importantly I suspect you speak Afrikaans at home and I believe that several of the subjects you are studying at school are taught in Afrikaans. It will be very difficult to lose your accent while you are under these influences.

I wouldn’t dare suggest to my parents that we speak only English, Mr Rayne. My pa would never tolerate that.

"That, my dear, is why it is necessary that you go overseas. The Central School of Dramatic Art in London is an excellent school where several members of my company trained. Elsie Fogerty, one of the founders and principals of the school, is a renowned English voice and diction teacher. I believe she has done wonders with the new crop of young actors, Laurence Olivier, John Gielgud and Peggy Ashcroft; you will undoubtedly hear more about these names in the future. With the Fogerty method, you do not lose the individuality of your voice – you do not lose your style or characteristics – you do not all come out speaking the same way; but you do emerge speaking English correctly and in a way that is the standard for the English stage. As a matter of fact, a friend, George Bernard Shaw, a truly great writer and dramatist, recently sent me his play, Pygmalion, which is to be staged in London next year. The story concerns a professor of phonetics, Henry Higgins, who bets that he can train a bedraggled Cockney flower girl to pass herself off as a duchess and the most important element, he believes, is that she should be able to speak impeccable English. George tells me that the character of Professor Higgins was inspired by several British professors of phonetics who have successfully erased the accents with which people were