The interdependence of photography and painting on the South West Africa expedition of James Chapman and Thomas Baines, 1861-62

 

 

Michael Godby

University of Cape Town

 

 

The South West Africa Expedition of James Chapman and Thomas Baines of 1861-62 is of singular importance in the history of exploration in Africa, not so much for the actual achievements of the expedition, but for the records that the two men made of their travels. For not only is this the first expedition in which extensive use is made of both photography and painting, but also both travellers kept journals in which, amongst other things, they commented on their own and each other's practice. Chapman's Travels in the Interior of South Africa (1868) and Baines's Explorations in South-West Africa (1864), therefore, provide a rare account of the experience of making images in the field in this early period and, very often, directly or indirectly indicate the purpose for which particular images were made. Moreover, the evident competition between the two men and, in a sense, the media that they practiced, affords a unique insight into their understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of photography and painting as media of record at this time. Furthermore, the journals confirm what the images themselves suggest, that by working in such close company each medium influenced the other to a remarkable degree. In this paper I will explore the relationship of Chapman's photography and Baines's painting as it is expressed in their journals and in relation to the two distinct purposes for which they were made, the scientific and the commercial.

Curiously, in view of the number of entries given over to their practice, neither Chapman nor Baines in their journals ever makes a categorical statement on their purpose in producing photographs or paintings. Thus, since their expedition precedes by a few years both the section on photography that the Royal Geographical Society included in the second edition of its Hints to Travellers (1865) and the authoritative statement on the medium in Notes and Queries on Anthropology (1874), the scientific purpose of their images may be inferred from David Livingstone's instructions to his brother Charles and Baines himself at the outset of the Zambesi Expedition of 1858.² Livingstone defined the aims of this expedition as:

to extend the knowledge already attained of the geography and mineral and agricultural resources of Eastern and Central Africa, to improve our acquaintance with the inhabitants, and engage them to apply their energies to industrial pursuits, and to the cultivation of their lands with a view to the production of the raw material to be exported to England in return for British manufactures.³

In line with these aims, Livingstone instructed his brother Charles, as photographer to the expedition, to be prepared to 'secure characteristic specimens of the different tribes ... specimens of remarkable trees, plants, grain or fruits and animals' as well as 'scenery'. And he required Thomas Baines, the artist and storekeeper of the expedition, to make 'faithful representations of the general features of the country through which we shall pass', 'drawings of wild animals and birds', records of 'specimens of useful and rare plants, fossils and reptiles', and drawings of 'average specimens of the different tribes ... for the purposes of ethnology'. As is well-known, Baines was soon dismissed by Livingstone on the implausible charges of idleness and theft, and he embarked on the South West African expedition as soon as he could thereafter in part to re-establish his reputation as an explorer. Baines, therefore, was familiar with the principles of officially-sponsored expeditions and both his journal and Chapman's confirm that they shared the ambitions of all explorers at this time to collect information that would at once extend scientific knowledge and prepare the way for commercial exploitation.⁴

Insofar as science was their object, Baines and Chapman obviously sought to produce an exact record of appearances and they certainly would have agreed with the opinion of an anonymous writer in 1864 that 'The noblest function of the photography is to remove from the paths of science ... the impediments of space and time'.⁵ However, photography was still an extraordinarily cumbersome process at this time and there were very many occasions when it simply could not be deployed, and as many when its operation resulted in failure. In his usual elaborate style, Baines summarised both the difficulties and strengths of the new medium in a journal entry for September 1861:

As for the difficulties in the way of a photographer, their name is Legion: the restlessness of the sitters, who naturally shrink when the mysterious-looking double-barrelled lenses are levelled full at them, and cannot imagine what the 'shadow-catcher' is doing under the black curtain - the impossibility of procuring clean water - the different conditions of atmosphere and intensity of the sun - the constant dust raised either by our people or the wind - the whirlwinds upsetting the camera, and no end of other causes - combine to frustrate the efforts of the operator, and oblige us (myself with greater reluctance than Chapman) to condemn many and many a picture; for in almost every one there is here and there some little bit of effective representation that I, as an artist, would give almost my right hand to be able to reproduce.⁶

And it is interesting to compare Baines's and Chapman's accounts of the same experience when the amarillidae were in flower at their camp near Koobie in November 1861. Baines wrote:

Everyday brings forth its floral novelty, which I sketch and Chapman photographs, taking in from five to thirty seconds a group that would cost me a couple of days' labour, and sometimes making me envy the magic facility with which any amount of detail is secured. Perhaps the next minute, however, warns me to be content with the comparatively tortoise-like operations of the pencil. A breeze rises, the gracefully waving petals defy the power of the lens: the solid framework of the wagon, the lightly-sketched ropes of the tent, the tin pannikin, the knife, the trowel, even the grain, the saw-marks, and the inscription of an old candle-box, come out with provoking exactness, while the only flower at all definite is the rather conventional red and white rose on the fore chest.⁷

Chapman's account of this experience was rather more business-like:

I waste a great deal more on botany than anything else; flowers are light, and a breath of air moves them and spoils my labour. I have been 3 days at the white flower, used 32 oz. developing solutions besides other chemicals, dirtied many glasses, and still got nothing. I will stick to large trees while Baines, at my suggestion, will sketch the flowers, which we will send to Sir William Hooker with my photographs.⁸

Chapman's reference to Sir William Hooker, the director of the Botanical Gardens at Kew, confirms that both painter and photographer were attempting to provide images for scientific purposes and Chapman did succeed in making several 'large trees' for botanical study.⁹ Early in the expedition, Baines and Chapman were drawn to record the botanical novelty, the Welwitschia mirabilis,¹⁰ and Baines's painting is still in the collection at Kew.

 

 

Interestingly, his account of the extraordinary plant includes an image of himself drawing it and the wagon train in the background of the picture, as if the artist is indicating the distance he had to travel to discover the plant and confirmation that it does indeed look as he has represented it. Here and elsewhere, it seems that Baines was prompted by the transparency of photography to use artistic devices not available to the camera to assert the truthfulness of his rendering. Occasionally, however, painting might still have an advantage over photography, as when Baines would also draw on certain scientific conventions of representation that were beyond the powers of the camera. Thus he made botanical illustrations that included analytical images, for example cross sections, or images of the plant at different stages in its growth.

Chapman and Baines also made images for zoological purposes and Chapman actually intended to write a new zoology of Southern Africa. This fact explains his photograph of two rhinoceros heads that not only records the appearance of these animals but also invites comparison between two supposedly different species.¹¹ Although, in the event, it was Baines who first published this comparison, the steel engraving that was made from his drawing clearly could not have the authority of the photograph. Similarly, only a photograph could substantiate Chapman's claim to have discovered a new species of quagga that had stripes all the way up its back legs - and, conversely, only knowledge of this claim could explain the extraordinary view taken in this photograph.

 

 

Baines acknowledged the supremacy of photographs for scientific purposes in a number of ways. Thus, he described his drawing of a dead gnu:

The carcase was brought nearer to the wagons, and the camera brought to bear, while I sketched it from nearly the same position -a piece of great presumption on my part, yet not without its uses, for I find that the probability of having my work compared with that of Phoebus puts me rather on my mettle.¹²

The affectation of attributing photography to Phoebus, the sun, was designed to suggest that there was no human agency in the medium and therefore that its images were bound to be true. But there are other occasions in this journal when Baines insists on the documentary quality of his art in a way he had never done before. For example, his account of his drawing a dead leopard while 'Chapman made three or four good photographs' seems certainly to have been influenced by a need for a new kind of accuracy:

I sketched it as it lay, as I think it preferable on such occasions to make a careful and faithful study of the dead animal as it lies before me, rather than confuse myself and render my sketch valueless by attempting to give the action of life to it before I have secured data on which to do so with tolerable correctness.¹³

Although he does not acknowledge it, Baines seems to be referring to his practice of laying out carcases in the attitude of running which he then recorded in a drawing. Thus 'The new quagga', that was reproduced both as an engraving in the first edition of Chapman's Travels and in gilt embossing on the cover of his own Explorations, although apparently in motion, has clearly been viewed from below, as if the animal were stretched out on the ground in front of the artist.

 

 

However, if in these instances Baines reveals a certain envy for the accuracy of the camera and its ability to authenticate scientific fact, Chapman would seem to have envied the ability of the artist to simulate motion. Bemoaning the theft of his horses, Chapman complained in a letter to Sir George Grey dated 25 December 1861: 'I can now only try and stalk some sleepy old elephant and, if such a thing is possible, photograph him first and shoot him afterwards'.¹⁴

Soon after, Chapman almost succeeded in capturing the likeness of a live elephant. One evening in January 1862, he broke the shoulder of an elephant bull and left him standing until morning when he could photograph him. However, in the night the elephant moved off and Chapman's 'chance of photographing a live African elephant was nipped in the bud'.¹⁵

Baines was of course aware that, under certain conditions, photography had introduced a new dimension to the recording of physical appearances for scientific purposes and that, since its invention, only the camera could provide images that were unquestionably authentic. Thus, despite his great interest in meteorology, Baines seems not to have lifted his pencil on 26 November 1862, while 'Chapman prepared his camera and glasses to secure a record of the appearance of our outspan receiving the rays directly from above', and made at least three photographs of the phenomenon.¹⁶ However, problems of different kinds arose when scientific principles were applied to human subjects. In line with Livingstone's instructions to his photographer and painter to 'secure characteristic specimens of the different tribes', both Chapman and Baines recorded the appearance of the people through whose land they passed. Thus the caption of Chapman's photograph of Berg Damaras, for example, contains information on the people's language and 'habits', and their position amongst the other groups in the region.

 

 

The photograph itself, moreover, shows the 'specimens' to have been posed in a series of different views from full-face to profile. Similarly, for 'the purposes of ethnology', as Livingstone had put it, Chapman's photograph of Bayeye huts has obviously been arranged to display harpoons, nets, spades and other forms of material culture.¹⁷ Baines's response to the new standard of accuracy that had been introduced by photography is articulated in connection with his painting of 'The Damara Family': in October 1861 Baines wrote that this work had taken him many months to complete, that he never worked at the principal figures of any painting without his model before him, and that he has supplied any defects only after consultation with Chapman and reference to his photographs in confirmation of his own recollections.¹⁸ Clearly, photography provided Baines with the model not only of exactness but also authenticity.

In light of this assertion, it is ironical that Baines in effect challenged the superiority of photography over painting in connection with this same painting. Baines described how a group of Bushmen visited the camp:

They understood and recognised the figures in many of [Chapman's] stereographic prints, but when I showed them the oil picture of the Damara family, their admiration knew no bounds. The forms, dress, and ornaments of the figures were freely commented on, and the distinctive characteristics between them and the group of Bushmen pointed out; the dead bird was called by its name, and, what I hardly expected, even the bit of wheel and fore part of the wagon were no difficulty to them. They enjoyed the sketch of Koobie (their chief) greatly, and pointed out the figures in the groups of men, horses and oxen very readily.¹⁹

 

 

Baines goes on to say that Koobie himself 'now comes regularly when my folio is in hand, to see what I am doing'. In this account, Baines is using the testimony of the Bushmen to argue that photography did not have a monopoly of realism, and qualities of scale and, especially, one would think, colour represented a very strong challenge to the new medium.

Although, as he acknowledged, Baines was obviously affected by the descriptive power of the camera, he continued to rejoice in art's potential for invention. He records unapologetically that the same 'Damara Family' that was applauded for its realism was actually the result of combining several different images: the dead bird, for example, had been shot by Chapman only a couple of days before the completion of the painting, that is several months after and very many miles away from the time and place the composition had been started. Similarly, Baines reports several occasions that he was able to make sketches from memory.²⁰ Moreover, Baines was obviously predisposed to celebrate the Victoria Falls, and certain other examples of African scenery, with the poetic aspect of his artistic identity, that was more concerned with sensibility than it was with the scientific recording of fact.²¹ Thus Baines urged his readers to imagine themselves actually at the Falls:

Now stand and look through the dim and misty perspective till it loses itself in the cloud of spray to the east. How shall words convey ideas which even the pencil of Turner must fail to represent? Think nothing of the drizzling mist, but tell me if heart of man ever conceived anything more gorgeous than those two lovely rainbows, so brilliant that the eye shrinks from looking on them, etc.²²

In this mood, in which he could claim that 'no man but an artist can appreciate these wondrous Falls',²³ it is probable that his search for ways to express the sublime quality of his subject even took him beyond the dimensions of physical truth. It is certainly curious that, although Baines created a highly dramatic picture in both word and image of the buffalo hunt on a cliff at the Victoria Falls, Chapman, who was supposed to have participated in the event, made no mention of it at all in his journal, referring only to 'the steps of buffaloes going over a precipice 400ft high' and adding that 'we followed them until it made us giddy'.²⁴

Whatever their origins, Baines's descriptions of the buffalo hunt clearly were made for purposes other than scientific enquiry. Whether real or imagined, this scene was designed to complement the drama of what was fast becoming known as the most sublime scenery in Africa. In fact, both Baines and Chapman started the expedition with ambitions to produce the first views of the Victoria Falls, not so much as scientific documents, but as profitable commercial ventures; and both men were obviously aware of the cost of their investment. As Chapman vainly put it: 'Considering the time, trouble and expense, not to say risk of life and property in the present unsettled state of affairs, I have been at, I will get a photograph of the Falls'.²⁵

In this context, obviously, truth was of less importance than spectacle and, although only Baines succeeded in publishing his views because the photographer could not overcome technical difficulties at the Falls, Chapman also was aware of market demands for sensational material in stories of African adventure. Thus when Chapman, in a letter to Sir George Grey, quoted the opinion of the prospective publisher of his journal that 'At present it is too much a repetition of Dr Livingstone's to take', he was indicating his awareness of the demands for novelty, if not downright sensationalism, of the London publishing market at the time. Such awareness is apparent in the journal itself, especially in his references to hunting, which was the principal theme of books on Africa published in London around the middle of the nineteenth century.²⁶ Similarly, in his earlier letter to Grey in which he had lamented the theft of his horses, he explained that the chief cause of his distress was that 'all my hopes of bringing Baines into the midst of some of those exciting hunting scenes which I had formerly seen, have vanished for the present'. Chapman's use of the phrase 'hunting scenes' suggests a literary passage as much as an actual experience, and the hunt is one of the themes that both Chapman and Baines used to structure their accounts of the expedition. Another narrative theme that Baines had used in both word and image in his previous adventures was the progress of the expedition itself: both Baines and Chapman make this the principal theme of their journal accounts of the South West Africa expedition. However, while in his paintings, Baines repeatedly organised the landscape around his own active figure, as in his depiction of the Welwitschia mirabilis, for example, the technical limitations of photography allowed Chapman to take only stationary views of the personnel and impedimenta of the expedition.²⁷ But the very drawbacks of exposure time and difficulty of moving his photographic apparatus were put to good effect by Chapman in illustrating a further theme of African travel writing. In a series of images relating the expedition to mission stations and other European outposts, on the one hand, and groups of indigenous people, on the other, Chapman appears to suggest the distinct, and eminently marketable idea of the progress of civilisation.²⁸ Interestingly, although his journals frequently address this topos, Baines appears to have reserved his art for images of scientific or dramatic novelty.

To the extent that Chapman and Baines in their verbal and visual accounts of their expedition invoked the dramatic themes of hunting, the progress of the expedition, and the advance of civilisation, amongst others, so it is clear that they were appealing to market as well as scientific interests. It is in these terms that certain of their more stereotyped images should be understood. For example, while both Chapman and Baines related certain of their work to the scientific principles of ethnology, they both also produced images of distinct, if contradictory prejudice. Thus both men created idealising images of warrior figures in the 'Noble Savage' tradition;²⁹ and they both regularly referred sarcastically to local women as 'Namaqua Belle', for example, or 'Damara Ladies at their Toilette', etc.³⁰ Needless to say, these prejudiced descriptions were exaggerated in the new captions provided by Joseph Kirkman when he offered the stereograph collection for sale as Pictures of African Travel in 1865. Thus Joseph Kirkman made his own contribution to the myth of the supposed fear of the camera amongst indigenous peoples by changing Chapman's caption of one photograph from 'Bushmen wondering what I am up to. Rietfontein September 1861' ³¹to 'Group of Bushwomen...taken almost instantaneously. Mark their fear and astonishment'. It is of course ironical that, in this context, the medium of photography was used to confirm the truth of these prejudices.

Thus, through the varied demands of science or presumed market interest, Chapman's photographs and Baines's paintings of the South West Africa expedition were to a large extent framed in advance. Moreover, just as Chapman's association with Baines over many months seems to have caused the artist frequently to describe his practice in terms of scientific precision, so it would seem that Baines caused Chapman occasionally to view both subjects and scenes with the eye of an artist. For example, several of his botanical subjects, that he described as 'artificial arrangements', would seem to owe their method of composition to the genre of flower painting.³² And his attachment to pictorial conventions is apparent in his statement that chief Lechulatebe 'sat for his portrait', notwithstanding that the photograph clearly shows him to be standing.³³ Moreover, several of his renderings of dead animals relate directly to the long pictorial tradition of this subject: the title 'The Sleep of Death', that he gave to his photograph of a dead black rhinoceros could have come straight out of Landseer;³⁴ and a similar morbid sentimentality is evident in Baines's description of he and Chapman placing the body of a favourite dog for a picture 'beside the fallen game'.³⁵ But it was the physical geography through which he passed that put Chapman most often in mind of art and was, in fact, the principal subject of his own now neglected exercises in painting: a sketch of the Victoria Falls,³⁶ although usually attributed to Baines, is actually by Chapman and shows that he was familiar with the pictorial conventions of the sublime.³⁷ Other references to landscape, in both his journal and his photography, are expressed in the language of the picturesque. Thus, in May 1862 Chapman described himself lying by a river: 'Troops of from 50 to 100 lechwe, their warm colours heightened by the sinking sun, grazed on the other side within 300 yards of me. I longed for my camera'.³⁸

Another time, on his return journey to Damaraland in August 1863, the landscape of granite hills 'presented tempting subjects for the photographer's art. In some places three or four huge blocks are settled into the form of a bridge, through the arch of which the clear blue sky is visible'.³⁹ Once more Chapman regretted that he did not have his camera and chemicals with him, for this scene evidently put him in mind of one of the more fanciful traditions of European landscape painting. Similarly, his photograph of the Botletle River was obviously constructed to show the picturesque meandering of a river, framed in the manner of a Claude Lorraine painting on the one side by the highly contrived staffage of a Bushman with dead game and, on the other, the repoussoir forms of riverine vegetation, while distance into space is marked by carefully-placed figures in the middle ground.

It is clear that both the photographs made by James Chapman and the paintings made by Thomas Baines during the South West Africa expedition were designed for distinct, even contradictory purposes. In that both men were keen to establish or, in Baines's case, re-establish careers as explorers in the expectation of official sponsorship for future expeditions, they tended to use their respective media for the scientific documentation of physical appearances. In this enterprise, obviously, photography, although still very cumbersome, was self-evidently the superior medium. Baines not only acknowledged this fact repeatedly in his journals but also, under its influence, devised several strategies to persuade his viewers of the authenticity of his representations. His appreciation of the scientific value of photography is expressed most clearly perhaps in his decision on his return to London to take lessons in the medium from James Lawrence, of the celebrated Lawrence Brothers firm of photographers: Baines's training was ended prematurely when Lawrence returned to Scotland in November 1865.⁴⁰ However, both Baines and Chapman knew that even if they were to receive support from the scientific establishment, they would still have to finance their careers through publications of one sort or another. But by the time of the South West Africa expedition, the British public was interested in travel writing more as a source of adventure stories than for scientific information, and publishers obviously had to cater to this taste.⁴¹ Thus both travellers composed their journals as a series of adventure narratives. But, as far as their visual accounts are concerned, Baines could use his imagination both to supplement scientific fact and to convey the emotional dimension of the traveller's experience, while Chapman's art seemed to be restricted to the recording of objective appearances. However, for the first several decades of its existence photography depended closely upon painting. Thus Chapman, like other photographers, derived entire genres, such as portraiture and still-life, from painting; and when he considered landscape as a subject, his knowledge of landscape painting very largely determined his view. Moreover, the influence of painting on photography transcended the simple selection of subject-matter. For, where a subject did not dictate the obvious formal choices of centrality of composition and utmost clarity of form, such as would be appropriate for scientific purposes, Chapman imported from painting compositional devices, such as the picturesque repoussoir structure, as the only formal means to introduce some level of sentiment into his image. Chapman's ambivalent relationship to art is never clearly articulated in his journal, but it is apparent in the curious design of a pair of water-colour drawings he made of the west end of Lake Ngami that he obviously intended to be viewed through the lens of a stereographic viewer.⁴²

 

 

 

1 An earlier version of this paper was presented at the conference 'Encounters with Photography: Photographing People in Southern Africa, 1860-1999' at the South African Museum, Cape Town, 1999. Chapman's photographs are in the National Library, Cape Town, and they are referred to in this paper by their INIL numbers. For Chapman, see now Hartmann et al., The Colonising Camera: Photographs in the Making of Namibian History (Cape Town, 1998); S.Kliem, 'The Eye as Narrator in Nineteenth Century Expedition Writing and Photography of James Chapman, 1860-64' (Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of the Western Cape, 1995) and R.Bester, 'James Chapman and the Spatial Politics of the Photographic Encounter in Colonial Southern Africa' in M.Stevenson, ed., Thomas Baines: An Artist in the Service of Science in South Africa (London, 1999). For Baines, see J.P.R.Wallis, Thomas Baines: His Life and Explorations in South Africa, Rhodesia and Australia, 1820-1875 (Cape Town, 1976); and J.Carruthers and M.Arnold, The Life and Work of Thomas Baines(Cape Town, 1995).
2 J.R.Ryan, Picturing Empire: Photography and Visualisation in the British Empire(London, 1997), 28-44.
3 Ibid, 31.
4 E.Edwards, ed., Anthropology and Photography, 1860-1920 (New Haven and London, 1992); J.R.Ryan, Picturing Empire.
5 J.R.Ryan, Picturing Empire, 21.
6 T.Baines, Explorations in South-West Africa (London, 1864), 148. In this extract and elsewhere in his journal, Baines refers to Chapman taking stereographic photographs, and this in fact is the only kind of photographic record that survives from the expedition. Yet, as Harold Carlsson pointed out in conversation, whenever Baines depicted Chapman photographing in a painting, he showed him not with the stereoscope but with the larger apparatus of the wet-plate collodion. In the later Shifts and Expedients of Camp Life, Baines again contrasted the 'exactitude of detail' that was possible in photography with its 'innumerable new and unexpected difficulties'. In his short notice of the medium Baines chose to refer to the Zambesi photographs of John Kirk that had recently been exhibited in London rather than the work of James Chapman. (T.Baines and W.B.Lord, Shifts and Expedients of Camp Life (London, 1871), 17).
7 T.Baines, Explorations in South-West Africa, 148.
8 J.Chapman, Travels in the Interior of South Africa (Cape Town, 1971 edition of 1868 work), vol. 2, 15. Chapman clearly developed a reputation for struggling for he wrote in April 1862: 'I am called pelu telelo, long heart, one who is persevering, by the natives when they see me photographing'. (Ibid., 37).
9 INIL 11055, 11081 etc.
10 Chapman, INIL 11023 and 11102.
11 INIL 11088.
12 T.Baines, Explorations in South-West Africa, 166.
13 Ibid., 167-8.
14 J.Chapman, Travels in the Interior of South Africa, vol. 2, 2.
15 Ibid., 26.
16 T.Baines, Explorations in South-West Africa, 489; INIL 11080 etc..
17 INIL 11057.
18 Ibid., 162.
19 Ibid., 170.
20 Ibid., 276, 281.
21 M.Godby, 'Thomas Baines on the Victoria Falls: A Contest between Science and Art in the Career of a British Explorer in Africa' in M.Stevenson, ed., Thomas Baines.
22 T.Baines, Explorations in South-West Africa, 489.
23 T.Baines, The Victoria Falls, Zambesi River sketched on the spot during the Journey of J.Chapman and T.Baines (London, 1866), 6.
24 J.Chapman, Travels in the Interior of South Africa, vol. 2, 64.
25 Ibid., 60.
26 M.Godby, 'Thomas Baines on the Victoria Falls'.
27 INIL 11048, 11078 etc.
28 INIL 11029, 11033, 11068 etc.
29 INIL 11077; MuseumAfrica B326.
30 INIL 11039, 11049 etc.
31 INIL 40.
32 INIL 11085, 11086 etc.
33 J.Chapman, Travels in the Interior of South Africa, vol. 2, 36; INIL 11050.
34 INIL 11074.
35 T.Baines, Explorations in South-West Africa, 322-3.
36 MuseumAfrica, B288.
37 M.Godby, 'Thomas Baines on the Victoria Falls'; S.Kliem, 'The Eye as Narrator'.
38 J.Chapman, Travels in the Interior of South Africa, vol. 2, 40.
39 Ibid., 201.
40 M.Bull and J.Denfield, Secure the Shadow: The Story of Cape Photography from its Beginnings to the end of 1870(Cape Town, 1970), 95.
41 M.L.Pratt, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation (London, 1992).
42 INIL 15762.