Quote of the Day: ‘I Cannot but Remember’

 

I cannot but remember such things were
That were most precious to me–William Shakespeare, Macbeth, Act 4, Scene 3

I Cannot But Remember is the title my father gave his memoirs, and I’m happy to say that on this, which would have been his 104th birthday, after an extended period of (as John Lennon would have it), “life [happening to me while I was] busy making other plans,” things might be getting back on track and on the road to publication some time from now.

You’ve always been very generous with the posts I’ve written about Dad, and the stories I’ve shared heretofore: Thank you.  And–without further ado–here, in its current state, is the prologue to I Cannot But Remember*:

I suppose that today there are millions of young boys who have never read, nor even heard of, Sanders Of The River, and not many who have ever heard of its author, Edgar Wallace.

When I was a boy, almost a century ago, things were different.

Of course, none of us knew then that Edgar Wallace was the illegitimate child of an actress, or that he was adopted by a Billingsgate fish porter when he was only nine days old, or that he started work aged eleven selling newspapers on Fleet Street. Such things were just not spoken of then, and especially not in front of the children!

What we knew of Wallace was confined to the respectable and important facts of his life–he was eighteen in 1893 when he joined the Queens Own (Royal West Kent) Regiment.

He was in his early twenties when he fought in the second Boer War before transferring to the press corps and reporting for Reuters.

After the Army, he spent some time in West Africa as an engineer employed by The Niger Company. The company succeeded the original Royal Niger Company, whose chairman, the charismatic Sir George Goldie, is buried in Brompton cemetery beneath a marker bearing the simple inscription: ‘THE FOUNDER OF NIGERIA.’

So it is clear that Wallace knew the Niger delta well, and it is inconceivable that he did not draw upon his experiences of life on the Niger (referenced only as ‘The River’ in his books) when he created his hero, Sanders.

And when I was entering my teens, nineteen out of any twenty boys you picked would have known of Wallace, and most of them would have known who ‘Sanders’ was as well. Those who did not, had simply not yet got around to reading the eleven books that Wallace produced between 1911 and 1928, featuring his hero, the legendary District Commissioner Sanders, together with Captain Hamilton and Lieutenant Bones, the soldiers commanding his detachment of Hausa Police, and Bosambo, the wily Monrovian whom Sanders plucked from the jungle to be his right-hand, man, and who then became Chief of the ‘Akasava,’ a tribe until then rent by internecine feuding.

As I found out later in life, kasava (manioc) is the staple food around Forcados, where Wallace was stationed for part of his term in West Africa. The simple addition of an “A” to this common Nigerian word makes it a thoroughly acceptable and relevant tribal name. But I digress. [Editorial note: That’s a family trait.  LOL.]

In 1935, Paul Robeson starred as Bosambo in Zoltan Korda’s film version of the first of the books, with Lesley Banks as Sanders. Robeson is later said to have regretted playing the part, which by then he thought had demeaned him; though in the eyes of many a British filmgoer of the day (especially young boys–myself included) it had made him a superstar.

Years before that film, however, I had already decided that if at all possible, I was going to become (as Robeson sang, over the film’s opening credits):

“Sandi the strong! Sandi the wise!
Righter of wrong! Hater of lies!
Laughed as he fought! Worked as he played!
As he has taught, let it be made!”

Of course, for a child today to have such an ambition would be regarded as preposterous, more’s the pity.

As it turned out, the Second World War rather delayed my boyhood dream, and whether I finally succeeded in it or not is for you to decide.  (I think I did!)

But although I may have achieved my personal dream, my country certainly missed its mark, as, in what was an expectable reaction to the trauma into which it had been plunged, after five years of ‘saving the world,’ Britain (and especially England) lost faith in itself, and to a large extent, lost its own soul.

Just as the poor ‘are always with us,’ so were the naysayers, the bleeding hearts, and the professional do-gooders. And amongst them was invariably manifest what George Orwell called the ‘masochism’ of the English Left—those who compulsively lusted to denigrate and decry as much as possible of what they saw as being English, while they sided enthusiastically with anyone else who did likewise, no matter how objectionable, grafting, or even downright corrupt, such people might otherwise be.

And after the War, these same people acquired a hitherto undreamed-of ascendancy, while the mandarins in Whitehall happily managed the decline. Since then, even more perilously, they and their academic sidekicks have gone on to spawn the pernicious doctrines of ‘political correctness’ and ‘risk abatement,’ which now appear to hold almost untrammeled sway and unthinking approbation among the intelligentsia of the West.

Thus did we fail to leave an enduring legacy behind us.

Nevertheless, I firmly believe that we few who were prime movers in maintaining the Pax Britannica in its latter days, have the right to be proud of our imperial heritage. I am proud of it–and of the memory of the part, however small, that I and mine have played in it.

And that is why I write what I cannot but remember. So that it will not be forgot.

It’s a story of a time when life was glorious and filled with possibilities.  And of a man whose adventurous spirit was captured forever by a childhood book which, more than anything else in his life, pointed the way to his future.

Oh yes, the book’s politically incorrect, and triggering to the max.  And the movie is quite a  turkey.  I couldn’t find it anywhere for decades, and then, early in 2007, my sister found it on a DVD along with The Jackie Robinson Story and ordered it up and sent it to me.  I watched it through, and couldn’t help feeling that some enterprising soul had swept up bits of film from the cutting room floor and pieced them together, perhaps not always in the right order.

But then I took it with me to England, for my last visit with Dad, just a couple of months before he died.  And we sat down and watched it together.

He wasn’t very well, but Dad had a twinkle in his eye to the very end.  The movie transformed him.  He sat up straighter.  He clapped his hands.  He was twelve years old again. And when Paul Robeson’s voice rang out, he joined right in:

“Sandi the strong! Sandi the wise!
Righter of wrong! Hater of lies!
Laughed as he fought! Worked as he played!
As he has taught, let it be made!”

I don’t know which of us was given the greater gift.

Happy Birthday, Dad.  I remember, too.

“Whenever David Muffett was around, one always felt as though some major convulsion
of nature was about to take place.”–Sir Bryan Sharwood Smith

©2007, Estate of D.J.M Muffett

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There are 11 comments.

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  1. JoelB Member
    JoelB
    @JoelB

    I’m looking forward to the publication. 

    That was quite a stirring song and video clip. It reminds me of the theme songs and intros of some of the television programs of the ’50s and ’60s. I can see how it could get a boy’s heart pounding.

    • #1
  2. Hang On Member
    Hang On
    @HangOn

    For your father’s generation it was Wallace and the romanticized but based in reality characters. For the current generation at its best it is the pure fantasy of Harry Potter or some Marvel action hero with superpowers. 

    While I disagree with your father about why Britain lost its empire (spending itself into the debt it did to fight two world wars and lacking a proper industrial policy at home to create enough wealth were rather important) or even the desirability of an empire, I admire him because he led a life well lived.

    • #2
  3. Susan Quinn Contributor
    Susan Quinn
    @SusanQuinn

    I love your tributes to your father. He was truly larger than life. I am looking forward to the book.

    • #3
  4. Percival Thatcher
    Percival
    @Percival

    She: “Whenever David Muffett was around, one always felt as though some major convulsion
    of nature was about to take place.”–Sir Bryan Sharwood Smith

    That is splendid!

    • #4
  5. Doug Kimball Thatcher
    Doug Kimball
    @DougKimball

    I hope the book comes out soon!   Much of what is wrong today is the direct result of a failure to know, understand and honor the true nature of history, of our fathers, men who strived and struggled with the responsibilities time thrust upon them.  Too many people today are either fatherless or believe that prior generations of men, their lives and history, deserve little more than pity and contempt.   

    No man, but one I’m told, has ever been perfect, but many were courageous and honorable.  For that, they should be honored.  Your Dad left this history.  We should cherish it.

    • #5
  6. Mad Gerald Coolidge
    Mad Gerald
    @Jose

    I see that many books by Edgar Wallace are freely available through Project Gutenberg, and in Kindle format.

    Sanders of the River.

    • #6
  7. KCVolunteer Lincoln
    KCVolunteer
    @KCVolunteer

    Just as the poor, ‘are always with us,’ so were the naysayers, the bleeding-hearts and the professional do-gooders. And amongst them was invariably manifest what George Orwell called the ‘masochism’ of the English Left—those who compulsively lusted to denigrate and decry as much as possible of what they saw as being English, while they sided enthusiastically with anyone else who did likewise, no matter how objectionable, grafting, or even downright corrupt, such people might otherwise be.

    And after the War, these same people acquired a hitherto undreamed of ascendancy, while the mandarins in Whitehall happily managed the decline. Since then, even more perilously, they and their academic sidekicks have gone on to spawn the pernicious doctrines of ‘political correctness’ and ‘risk abatement’ which now appear to hold almost untrammeled sway and unthinking approbation among the intelligentsia of the West.

    Now the mandarins hold sway in the USA, and corruption is only one of their many tools.

    Some may look at the UK thinking, “Decline isn’t so bad.”

    Well…we, and they, haven’t reached rock bottom yet.

    Let’s pray that isn’t required for us to find our footing again.

    • #7
  8. She Member
    She
    @She

    Hang On (View Comment):

    For your father’s generation it was Wallace and the romanticized but based in reality characters. For the current generation at its best it is the pure fantasy of Harry Potter or some Marvel action hero with superpowers.

    While I disagree with your father about why Britain lost its empire (spending itself into the debt it did to fight two world wars and lacking a proper industrial policy at home to create enough wealth were rather important) or even the desirability of an empire, I admire him because he led a life well lived.

    Thanks.  I don’t think Dad would disagree with you at all about the economic issue.  But the fifteen years he spent in academic institutions in the US gave him a pretty good insight into the other thing as well. 

    • #8
  9. She Member
    She
    @She

    Doug Kimball (View Comment):

    I hope the book comes out soon! Much of what is wrong today is the direct result of a failure to know, understand and honor the true nature of history, of our fathers, men who strived and struggled with the responsibilities time thrust upon them. Too many people today are either fatherless or believe that prior generations of men, their lives and history, deserve little more than pity and contempt.

    No man, but one I’m told, has ever been perfect, but many were courageous and honorable. For that, they should be honored. Your Dad left this history. We should cherish it.

    Susan Quinn (View Comment):

    I love your tributes to your father. He was truly larger than life. I am looking forward to the book.

    Thanks Susan and Doug.  I think it’ll be a while yet, but things are moving.`

    • #9
  10. She Member
    She
    @She

    Percival (View Comment):

    She: “Whenever David Muffett was around, one always felt as though some major convulsion
    of nature was about to take place.”–Sir Bryan Sharwood Smith

    That is splendid!

    And true.

    David Muffett flung himself into everything he undertook with almost terrifying zeal. One night, hearing pandemonium break out in the club across the valley, I sent a boy to investigate. “It is only Mr. Muffett killing a snake,” he said on his return. “But, good heavens,” I replied, “what with?” “He is throwing arm chairs at it,” came the astonishing reply. Whenever David Muffett was around one felt as though some major convulsion of nature was about to take place, but he was extremely popular with Africans who liked ebullience. He was a natural for the task I had in mind–Sir Bryan Sharwood Smith, But Always as Friends

    • #10
  11. Percival Thatcher
    Percival
    @Percival

    She (View Comment):
    One night, hearing pandemonium break out in the club across the valley, I sent a boy to investigate. “It is only Mr. Muffett killing a snake,” he said on his return. “But, good heavens,” I replied, “what with?” “He is throwing arm chairs at it,” came the astonishing reply.

    As one will, from time to time.

    Perhaps I’ll track down Sir Bryan’s book.

    • #11
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