by Mike Bruton
It was almost as if she had undergone a metamorphosis from a working caterpillar into a vibrantly colourful butterfly that could spread its wings and fly. Peter Jackson (1996) commented:
‘There was a total transformation. Gone was the austere, athletic, quiet young woman and in her place was the matronly, loquacious kindly Margaret Smith, so well known. I was reminded of Ecclesiastes iii, 7 “… a time to keep silence, and a time to speak”. Clearly, with her husband’s inhibitory influence on anything approaching gaiety in her ceasing with his death and his enjoinment to her to seize the torch and carry on with his work, she felt the time to talk had come.’
And talk she did! She loved to reconstruct conversations in the first person, I said ‘this’, then he said ‘that’, and I angrily responded like ‘this’, usually to demonstrate how she had overcome some insuperable obstacle (in the style of JLB) or deflated a pompous male ego. Some of her favourite expressions were ‘Over my dead body’, ‘I was shattered’, ‘I was livid!’, ‘I’m appalled’, ‘You hellion’, ‘How dare you?’, ‘Boy, was I cross!’, and ‘I’ll wring his neck’. Later in life she tended to add a touch of hyperbole to her stories, not to deceive, but to force home her point. For instance, in the 1976 SATV documentary, she states that she and JLB walked barefoot from the border of ‘Natal’ to Algoa Bay, whereas the evidence suggested that they only walked as far as Port St Johns.
Allan Heydorn remembers that he and turtle guru George Hughes once accompanied Margaret on a hike in Gorongosa in northern Mozambique during which her incessant talking became annoying. Their tour guide, the highly respected ecologist Ken Tinley, had cautioned everyone to be silent. ‘But Margaret was not to be subdued, to the extent that George and I got quite irritated. So, during one of the excursions on foot, we ducked behind a huge termitarium while she continued talking. When we emerged on the other side, there she was, quite annoyed. She said: “But I was talking to you!” Such was her irrepressible spirit (A Heydorn, pers. comm., 2017).’
Shirley Bell (pers. comm., 2017) commented:
‘I think Margaret’s change of life-style, almost a metamorphosis, owed much to Flora. Flora was extroverted, bright, outspoken and often deliberately outrageous in her comments. I found her hugely entertaining. I would [sit] at the table in their large kitchen and watch Flora acting out stories about local characters as she went about preparing a meal.’
Flora had moved from Johannesburg to join Margaret in Grahamstown in 1972, and spent 15 happy years with her there until she died shortly before Margaret in 1987.
Samantha Weinberg (1999) commented that Margaret ‘was nineteen years younger than her husband, and perhaps to disguise the age gap, he insisted that she wore no make-up, and pinned her dark hair in a severe bun’. Mary-Louise Penrith (pers. comm., 2017) remembers that, not long after JLB’s death in 1968 or 1969, ‘Margaret was still wearing a bun, no make-up, sandals, bare legs and the faded blue dress, but by the next Museums Conference she appeared with her hair cut short, smart clothes, high heels, and far too much make-up – liberated at last!’ She also commented about Margaret, ‘you have to be crazy about somebody to have worn the same old blue dress and flat sandals for him for 30 years or so!’
Nancy Tietz (pers. comm., 2017) summed it up well:
‘Before JLB Smith died Margaret wore a lab coat at work over a long, mid-calf dress and sandals, with no stockings. She was slim and had long and wavy hair that was usually neatly pinned back in a “French Knot” at the back of her head. She wore no make-up and very little jewellery, except an occasional pearl necklace at formal events. After JLB died she immediately cut her hair and began wearing a little make-up, some jewellery (drop earrings, but mainly fish-themed brooches and necklaces) and bright, flowing, long dresses, which would have been unthinkable in JLB’s time. Released from JLB’s strict diet (and his strict ban on chocolate), she rapidly put on weight, then lost some, but never regained her slim figure again. … Despite the huge change in outward appearances, for those who knew her Margaret was the same person with a good sense of humour, an infectious laugh (when JLB wasn’t around), interested, enthusiastic, concerned.’
Shortly before Margaret embarked on her 1969 world tour, a dressmaker in Grahamstown, Anna Engels, made six dresses with loud, bright colours for her to wear on the trip. This was further evidence of her ‘coming out’ after JLB’s death, as prior to that she had mainly worn austere ‘shirtwaisters’, dresses with a tailored bodice and buttons down the front, resembling a shirt, and a one-piece gathered skirt (R Hunt, pers. comm., 2017).
According to Flora’s son, Ian Sholto-Douglas (pers. comm., 2016), ‘within six weeks of JLB Smith dying Margaret was back in the body of the church, attending services, singing in the choir and teaching in the Sunday School’. In contrast, JLB Smith ‘was a proclaimed atheist, at a time when there were few open atheists. His religion was his austere life style and his work.’ Ian also stated that their diet had consisted of ‘fish, fish, fish and potatoes’.
Hans Fricke’s comment (pers. comm., 2017) was, ‘Margaret seems to me to be the total opposite of JLB’. Several people have pointed out that, in photographs of Margaret taken before 1968, she is serious, even severe, and hardly ever smiling, whereas she was almost always smiling in photographs taken after that date.
The most obvious explanation for Margaret’s rejuvenation after JLB’s death is that, in the interests of their work, he had suppressed her natural joie de vivre. Suddenly, freed of the burden of his ‘greatness’, she started living again: eating for enjoyment, dressing colourfully, attending church, wearing jewellery, becoming involved in charities, singing in choirs, and leading an active social life.
Perhaps the most overt sign of Margaret’s transformation was her re-engagement with the world of music. According to Denys Davis (1986), an illustrator who worked with the Smiths in the 1940s, JLB Smith ‘cut music out of his life as it stirred emotions, and this was wasteful. Practical efficiency was all-important, and every object, activity, idea and standard was closely scrutinised; and all non-essentials were ruthlessly trimmed away’. This must have been hard on Margaret.
Cathy Braans (pers. comm., 2017), Flora’s granddaughter, recalls that Margaret
‘loved singing and would often burst into song. When I lived in Johannesburg (where Flora was staying with us) Margaret would arrive singing and Flora would join her – that was the way they greeted each other before giving each other a big hug (still singing!).’
Margaret, with characteristic stoicism, commented to journalist Glynis Horning in 1979:
‘My husband couldn’t stand the sound of the human voice, so the only time I sang was when we were out fishing on the Knysna River in our little motor boat, and he couldn’t hear me above the noise of the outboard engine!’
Of this sacrifice, Shirley Bell commented:
‘She [Margaret] had that rich lovely laugh and a very fine singing voice. She had dropped choir singing while JLB was alive, as she said JLB was not enamoured of the human voice, so singing did not interest him. I can’t imagine that he would have actually prevented her from singing. It would probably rather have been that Margaret was so attuned to his needs and so wrapped up in their shared work that she did not seek her own interests beyond fulfilling their shared vision. If singing took away from anything JLB wanted, she would have thought nothing of dropping it’ (S Bell, pers. comm., 2017).
Those who are critical of Smith for forbidding Margaret to sing during their marriage do not realise that she happily complied with his request. She knew that he associated the female singing voice with traumatic experiences from his childhood, when his violent mother would sing loudly to drown the cries of her children after she had administered beatings.
After JLB Smith’s death, there was a marked change in Margaret’s professional attitude too: she became assertive, sometimes feisty (some would say bossy) and started to exert her will on the course of ichthyology in Grahamstown. But she was always a kind leader wh
o mastered the art of team building. Her leadership style, laid-back and carefree, was completely different from that of JLB, and she created a big, happy family in the new Ichthyology Institute. She managed people, not through fear or intimidation, but by establishing good and trusting relationships, although some regarded her as a poor judge of character as she was occasionally misled or deceived by charlatans or dilettantes.
Margaret had an informal approach to staff meetings and would readily abandon an important discussion to cuddle the baby of a visitor or talk to children about fishes. But she was also a formidable foe if any government official or academic criticised her management style; to her, happiness and harmony were of paramount importance. Tea was a loud and boisterous affair that often continued well over time, as she recounted hilarious happenings from her early expeditions with JLB or aired her views on people she had met, her stories typically spiced with exaggeration.
According to William Smith:
‘Mom was a saint, the only person I know who could get into a lift full of strangers on the ground floor, and by the third floor, she would know their names and family history and they would all be friends. It was like she developed to be a foil for Dad – and she paid a price for it. When she was growing up and at university, she was tremendously career-minded, but when Dad was alive she had to play second fiddle to his greatness. You can’t change nappies and be a great scientist: she was very good at nappies. But she was also great, and she got her greatness through people’ (reported in Weinberg, 1999).
CHAPTER 26
Triumph
Birth of the JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology
MARGARET TOOK the matter of building on JLB Smith’s legacy very seriously. It was effectively the raison d’etre for everything she said and did after he died, in and out of work hours, and became an all-consuming passion. Her fear was that, with the death of Smith, the university and the CSIR would lose interest in perpetuating the study of ichthyology in the small inland city of Grahamstown and would relocate it to one of the large, coastal cities, such as Cape Town, Durban or Port Elizabeth – a not unrealistic fear. It is widely considered that, had Margaret pre-deceased JLB Smith, the Ichthyology Institute (now the SAIAB) would not have been established in Grahamstown.
Furthermore, the CSIR had reservations about continuing to support the practice and teaching of ichthyology in Grahamstown without an ichthyologist of high standing at the helm, and Rhodes University was not interested in taking sole financial responsibility for the department, the fish collection and the ichthyology library (Gon, 1996). Two alternatives were considered: moving Smith’s fish collection and library to the South African Museum (now the Iziko South African Museum) in Cape Town, or moving it to the Oceanographic Research Institute in Durban, both logical suggestions.
Margaret Smith opposed any move from Grahamstown and refused to part with the book and reprint collection, which she now owned (Gon & Skelton, 1997; Gon, 2002). After much lobbying, by the end of 1968 Margaret had not only convinced the authorities that she could step into her late husband’s shoes but also that the Ichthyology Institute needed far more space! When she was passionate about a task, she was a formidable foe.
That same year the President of the CSIR, Dr Chris van der Merwe Brink, visited the Department of Ichthyology in Grahamstown and expressed concern about the primitive and unsafe accommodation that housed the priceless collection of fishes (in which the CSIR had invested a huge amount of money). Fortunately, the Vice-Chancellor of Rhodes University, Dr JM Hyslop, wholeheartedly agreed with him and, on 13th December 1968, the CSIR and the university jointly resolved to establish the JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology in honour of Smith’s legacy and to continue teaching and research in ichthyology in Grahamstown. The Institute was to be housed in a specially-designed, modern building in Somerset Street. All this happened within a year of JLB Smith’s death.
Margaret resigned from her position as Research Assistant which, despite her considerable accomplishments she had held for 21 years (since 1947), and accepted appointment as Director of the new Ichthyology Institute. The Board of Control of the new Institute met for the first time on 14th April 1969 under the chairmanship of Dr JM Hyslop with representation from the CSIR (Dr C van der Merwe Brink, Dr AEF Heydorn and Dr B van D de Jager) and Rhodes University (Mr Justice JD Cloete and Professor BR Allanson).
Carl Hubbs (1968) reported in his obituary on JLB Smith that ‘Professor Smith … for many years had made arrangements that his wife, Mrs Margaret Mary Smith, should continue his work’; but the decision to establish the Institute was, in fact, made only after his death and was by no means a foregone conclusion. Nevertheless, in a letter to Marie-Louise Bauchot at the Muséum National d’Histoire Naturelle in Paris dated 17th January 1968, 10 days after JLB had died, Margaret stated:
‘For 22 years I have worked closely with him on the understanding that I would continue his work after his death. You see I am 19 years younger than he is and have always considered it a very great privilege to have lived with and helped him in his work so I feel I have not lost him entirely in being able to continue along the lines that he laid down.’
Thereafter, Margaret’s sole mission in life was to ensure that JLB’s initiative would become a permanent and productive component of the Grahamstown and South African scientific landscape, no matter the effort required. She took to the task of supervising the transition from the old Department to the new Institute with renewed vigour. In order to make informed recommendations on the design of the building and its research facilities, she undertook a seven-month world tour from May to November 1969, visiting fish research institutes, public aquaria and museums in Europe, North America (including Hawai’i), Japan, New Caledonia, New Zealand, Australia and Mauritius. She investigated trends in ichthyology research, methods of cataloguing and curating fish specimens, and the design of preparation rooms, collection rooms, libraries and specialised research facilities. With the help of Peter Castle, a visiting Research Fellow in Ichthyology at the time, she submitted a detailed set of specifications for a specialist research institute building to the architects, Vos Lane & Vincent of East London.
Her plan, from the outset, was to design the building around the Collection Room, given that the fish collection and the library were, in her opinion, the Institute’s most valuable assets. This opinion is shared by other systematists to whom ‘The most important tool of the marine fish systematist is the fish collection’ (Gon, 1996, 2002). Margaret stipulated that the collection room should be 100,000 square feet (9,290 square metres) in area1, the size of the Great Hall at the university, which made the other members of the planning committee sit up and take notice. ‘It was a hot February day and everyone was rather sleepy … but that woke them up!’, she later recalled (Richards, 1987).
Work on the new building began in 1973 and was completed in July 1975. The roof-wetting was celebrated on 21st February 1975, when Margaret presented a copy of the Fishes of the Tsitsikama Coastal National Park to all those involved in constructing the building. The new building was officially opened by Dr Basil Hersov, President of the South Africa Foundation and Head of the Anglo-Vaal group of companies, on 26th September 1977, the 80th anniversary of the birth of JLB Smith and Margaret’s 61st birthday. The end product was a magnificent research facility, which visiting ichthyologist, Dr P Humphry Greenwood, Head of the Freshwater Fish Section at the British Museum (Natural History) at the time, described as ‘one of the most outstanding centres of ichthyological excellence in the world, with facilities, collections and access to material that make it a wonderful place for a research worker who is interested in African and Indian Ocean fishes’ (reported in Richards, 1987). In his recent history of Rhodes University Paul Maylam (2017) states:
‘Of all the science research institutes established at Rhodes University, including the Leather Research Institute, Institute for Freshwater Studies which became the Institute for Water Research, Tick Research Institute, it was the Ich
thyology Institute that earned the most international recognition.’
Drawing by Dave Voorvelt of the new JLB Smith Institute of Ichthyology building.
Margaret was particularly proud of the magnificent carved wooden door that graced the entrance to the new Institute, which has become an architectural landmark in Grahamstown. The door was commissioned by the building’s architect, Roy Bridge, at Margaret’s request, as she wanted to incorporate art with science in the design of the new building. The door was designed and carved in 1976 by the well-known Eastern Cape sculptor Maureen Quin, based on Margaret’s illustrations in Fishes of the Tsitsikama Coastal National Park. It measures three by two metres, weighs 680 kilograms and pivots in the centre, and is made from laminated imbuia and metal plate. The door depicts 15 fish species, including sharks, rays, seahorses, butterflyfish, kingfish and various line fishes. Flynn & Du Plessis (2014) remark: ‘The disciplined and stylised carvings of the fish-forms link in a subtle way to African carvings. Maureen has experimented with asymmetrical cubist shapes in which forms are framed, giving this work a modern abstracted character. The brushed satin finish of the steel over-frame accentuates this.’ Now in her 80s, Maureen Quin is still active in Alexandria where her ‘Quin Sculpture Garden and Gallery’ is a popular tourist destination.