Rider Haggard: Biography.
Rider Haggard: His Extraordinary Life and Colonial Work. A Literary Critical Biography.
The Online Publication
By Geoffrey Clarke.
© Mike Shepherd Photography
There is no excuse needed for basing this biography of Sir Henry Rider Haggard on the personal account of his literary life given in his own words in his autobiography, The Days of My Life. There can be no truer biography than that given by the first hand witness, the author himself. Of course, in my book, I have used memories provided by other family members, friends and colleagues to supplement his very full, subjective life story.
In terms of the methodology in this biography, I have employed traditional literary criticism allied with qualitative approaches to research, such as family letters, portraits on canvas, evidence from correspondence between Haggard and other authors, handwriting in the original texts to discern authorship, sampling, observation, period plate photographs, a cinema newsreel, realia, correspondence with the present author, and in depth interviews with living and erstwhile members of the Haggard family.
Rather than make this biography a chronological survey of the life and work of Henry Rider Haggard, I have arranged the study thematically. In this regard, a general sweep of his career rolls over Norfolk, the Natal, Egypt, Iceland, Mexico, Canada, the United States and so on. It is not to be expected that publications or events in Rider Haggard’s life will be in date order, but will cover geographical, conceptual, mythical and other themes.
As a committed and lifelong Socialist, I cannot always find an affinity with Haggard’s weltanschauung, but his brilliant imagination and scope of spiritual understanding, are elements of his life and writing with which I can empathise.
There is, of course, a danger in looking at Haggard’s literary work from a 21st century perspective in that what may have been acceptable and respectably considered attitudes and behaviour in the late nineteenth–century would not be viewed in the same light now. We must not exchange our prejudices with a past time. It would be like asking Rider Haggard why he killed elephants. Things have changed, but it does not mean that events of a hundred years ago should have been any different than they were. Postmodernism tends to assume totalitarian ownership of former times and people. Haggard and his contemporaries’ arguments on the nature of the Zulus may be considered quite differently today. So, too, would be his and his contemporaries’ attitudes to politics, race, religion, social structures, animal and human rights and sexual orientation.
But this will be essentially a favourable biography. I cannot rise to the argument in some quarters that a highly critical work on Haggard is necessary. I shall leave that to Wendy Katz, Sydney Higgins and Lindy Steibel, and will wait to receive the judgment of posterity. Haggard was a man of his time, with great sophistication and empathy towards other human beings; a state builder and nationalist, and should not always be judged by contemporary postmodern, protofeminist standards of outlook and viewpoint, unknown to the late-Victorians.
© National Portrait Gallery. Great Britain.
When Henry Rider Haggard first appeared in public portrayed on canvas by John Pettie in 1889, his picture displayed in the National Portrait Gallery showed an eager looking young man in impeccably starched collar and neatly tied cravat. “Here I am. I have arrived”, it seemed to say. His family background was patrician, landed and wealthy and, as the youngest son of Squire William Meybohm Rider Haggard [1817 – 1893] of Bradenham Hall, Norfolk, he was not expected to inherit his father’s title and land and, thus, had to carve his own way in the world.
His somewhat upward stare in the portrait seems to suggest something of the visionary, one who wished to look ahead at the future with a view to making his fame and fortune elsewhere, perhaps not in England. It was not one of his favourite portraits, for Haggard preferred one painted in later life, by Maurice William Greiffenhagen (1920) according to his descendants,[i] except that he thought it made him appear ‘wrinkled’.
Maurice William Greiffenhagen (1920) © National Portrait Gallery. London, Great Britain.
“These drawings come sketches
for the portrait of Sir Rider Haggard
painted by my husband in 1920
and they now belong to J. E. Scott
Rider Haggard could not roll his ‘r’s so one speculates whether his pronunciation of words like ‘very’ or ‘Greiffenhagen’ would not have sounded like ‘vewy’ or ‘Gweiffenhagen’. A look at Rider Haggard’s handwriting, too, in the manuscripts suggests on examination that he was impeccably tidy, methodical and upright. His bold, copperplate writing iin black ink on thick parchment paper taken out from a ledger suggests frugal economy and a mind that was organised, dedicated to detail and conscious of the effect it might have on others.
Sometimes using oblique shaped nibs, and at others a fine point nib, his penmanship varies between the flowing and the stilted, the clear and the unfocussed. Never a deleter and reviser like Dickens or Conrad, he usually wrote straight from the heart without hesitations, and where additions were needed he slotted them in between the two lines of written text.© Strand Magazine. Available. Online. http://archive.org/stream/StrandMagazine13/Strand13#page/n9/mode/2up Accessed 13. 09. 2012
Graphologists would be interested in Haggard’s writing style – gripping the pen between the index and second finger and the thumb, [i], rather than holding it lightly between the thumb and the first finger, as is more usual. It may suggest that Haggard’s writing emanated from a deeper cortex of the brain, and that the neural impulses from his cerebrum were of a more active nature by using this method. By this style of pencraft, his imagination was producing a more energised effect than some writers. Using this calligraphy, it could also be argued that his word output was more speedy.
He always carried the great knob-headed walking stick of Cetewayo, King of the Zulus, the tall, heavy hunting staff obtained in Natal at the coronation of the Zulu leader. Dressed in his wing collar and three piece, woolen suit with watch chain at the waistcoat, white broad-brimmed Panama hat, and a floppy cravat and shiny black shoes, spats to the instep, he goes the grounds of the ivy covered [now no longer] lodge and its ponds, greenhouses and gardens. He concentrates on his writing work, mainly in the afternoons, at the brought in desk of Charles Dickens, with his faithful black spaniel, Spot, at his side.
Haggard’s provenance was, through Squire William of Bradenham Hall, from landed and wealthy Danish parentage. The stained glass window at St Mary’s church, Ditchingham[ii] pays tribute to his past glory and contains scenes about Haggard’s life and work and his farm at Hilldrop, Natal. In the side panel is the inscription, Micas inter omnes it shines among all (i.e., it outshines all) (Horace ). Another proclaims per ardua ad astra – through struggle to the stars - and is quoted in Haggard's The People of the Mist.[i] In the main panels is portrayed a kingly image of Jesus Christ with the Archangels Michael and Raphael. There are scenes depicting the Pyramids and a view of Bungay from the Vineyard Hills near the home.
There exists also a portrait of Haggard on the village sign of Bradenham. One side portrays some sheep in front of the River Wissey and on the other is painted Wood Farm and an image of a ploughman. Along with the sheep is a picture of gallows depicting the time in 1794 when a Bradenham farmer was sent to the gallows for the murder of his wife. Rider and his brother discovered the remains of the gibbet and the condemned which were sent for safe keeping to the dungeon of Norwich museum. The nephew of Howard Carter, Haggard’s friend the Egypt specialist, carved the oaken sign, and it also bears a shield commemorating Elizabeth the First’s coronation. A street in Bungay is named Rider Haggard Lane, indicating his popularity and fame in the neighbourhood.
Noted for his good works[iii] throughout life, there are many examples to be found of his charitable giving, help to the poor and needy, national civil service, and his loyalty to the Salvation Army and its good works in America, Canada and Australia.
These indications of Rider Haggard’s character point to the development of a person who was destined to become a gentleman farmer, a politician, a colonial administrator, and one of the most influential people of his generation. He became known later as one of the most imaginative writers of the romance of masculine adventure. His writings run into millions of words. If volume is a criterion, he will simply be remembered for the quantity (70 novels: 3,150,000 words in one estimate, not including the couple of million words in The Private Diaries of Sir Henry Rider Haggard from 1914 until 1925 that Haggard caused to be typed out) as well as the outstandingly creative and intensely imaginative quality of his output.
Rider Haggard was one of six boys and four girls. He was born on the Haggard estate at Wood farm that had, in the meantime, been let out and was now not ready for his mother to give birth. Not a very enterprising start in life. As an eighth child Rider was not expected to be a high achiever and was regarded as a rather slow, dullard sort of child. Other siblings were Ella Doveton [1845-1921], William Henry [1846-1926], who was knighted, Bazett Michael, [1847-1899] who lived near and socialised with R L Stevenson on Samoa, Alfred Hinuber [1849-1916] who entered the Indian Civil Service and who worked alongside Cecil Rhodes in Africa, John George, [1850-1908], who had an international career, Elizabeth Cecilia [1852-1916], Andrew Charles Parker, [1854-1934] who reached the rank of colonel, and after Henry Rider [1856 – 1925] were Eleanora Mary [1858- 1935], who married a Baron, and, last but not least, the author and major, Edward Arthur Haggard, who died at the age of 65 in 1925.
Archival statements from the family reveal that his father, William Haggard, admonished him by heaping “imprecation upon imprecation” upon him.[iv] We learn from Strand Magazine that Rider’s father, Squire Haggard, chided Rider as a young boy for coming down to his supper too early, and finishing it before the others. In the illustration, the overpowering figure of the massive, bearded and great coated Dane queries: “Rider, what are you doing here? Explain, sir. Explain!” “Please, father”, he replied, “I knew that when you all came in there would be no room for me, so I had my supper first”, indicating Rider’s special imaginative approach to life.
I have conducted correspondence and in depth interviews with the living descendants of the author to establish whether they could provide evidence of the domestication of family life, with particular reference to their relative. There may or may not have been difficulties for people in late-Victorian times in the display of affection between family members. It is possible that fathers considered it necessary to establish a distance in their relationships, but there were domestic displays of affection shown between members of the same family.
The maternal grandson of Rider Haggard, the late Commander M. E. Cheyne, insisted to the present writer that his (Commander Cheyne’s) grandfather, Rider Haggard, treated his family with close affection and that his apparently harsh comments to his grandson about eating’ like a pig’, not being able to ‘tie up (his) shoelaces’ and ‘not know[ing] the Lord’s Prayer’ were “all said with a kindly glint in his eye”.[v]
Indeed, Commander Cheyne remembered his grandfather with affection: "...I have always had and still have a tremendous affection and admiration for him." It may seem strange that such memories as these are based on recollections of apparently harsh and unemotional comments by a grandfather, but it was common among late-Victorian fathers to appear stern and lofty in their manner without really relinquishing the affection and love of a grandparent. And indeed, Commander Cheyne, commenting on the repetition to him by the present author of a published quotation about the "imprecation after imprecation" that was "heaped upon"[vi] Haggard by his father, countered by saying that his grandfather did not “follow this course of action upon me.”[vii]
In fact, this was confirmed in an interview with Commander Mark Cheyne's widow, Mrs Nada Cheyne, who was born in the year Rider Haggard died, who commented that: "Rider was much more friendly than his father had been. His father was fierce. Mother whispered.”[viii] Indeed, his great granddaughter, Dorothy, imagined that “he was slightly removed and bemusedly tolerant of the social activities that went on around him of his all-female family, for he was caught up in his writing."[i]
Haggard’s daughter, Lilias was taken on a salmon fishing trip to Wales where she passed “jovial and happy times”,[x] and yet we are not aware whether this was an isolated family event or a regular occurrence. In her memoirs, Lilias recalls that:
As to Rider, he was genuinely devoted to them all. Writing to Louie about the time with regard to having some of Jack’s children home from abroad, he says: “The trouble is they all have too much character, but am always glad to see them. I love them all, and only wish I had enough money…[xi]
And again, the pressures of an impecunious writer expressing a true family spirit by Lilias’s account. Indeed, Dorothy, his great granddaughter added that he was “amusedly tolerant of their young female words".[xii]
I argue that the end result of all this confirms ideas that late-Victorian patriarchs were equally as caring as are modern-day parents and grandparents. Such recollections need to be treated with some caution in case they seek to protect golden memories, or perpetuate long-held myths, but they add to our wealth of knowledge on the issues.
Not being sent to a public school, like most youths of his class and society, Rider was registered as a pupil at Ipswich Grammar school, his parents having failed to enroll him in the Cambridge choir school.[xiii] He made slow progress, so his father made arrangements for him to be tutored at home with private lessons in Mathematics, Latin and Greek.
Haggard’s first imperial opportunity arose in the shape of an arrangement by William Haggard with Sir Henry Bulwer by which Rider Haggard would become a kind of nineteenth century ‘intern’ with the Lieutenant Governor of Natal in South Africa. Haggard travelled out to South Africa in July 1877, aged 21, journeying up from Cape Town to Durban, under sail, and on to Pietermaritzburg on horseback. Once there, he made friends with William Butler, one of the party of Englishmen accompanying Sir Theophilus Shepstone, the Secretary of Natal Affairs.
Haggard was offered the position of secretary to the residency, from which he was given the opportunity to travel with Sir Theophilus and engage with the Boers in the running battles with them in the Transvaal. By sheer coincidence Rider Haggard was handed the task of reading out the Proclamation of the British annexation of the Boer territories in Natal.
Fortune landed smoothly on Rider Haggard’s brow once again. Offered the post, in 1878, at still only 21 — on the death of the incumbent of Master and Registrar of the High Court of Transvaal[xiv] — his fate favoured those who are in the right place at the right time with the proper social credentials from an aristocratic family in Britain. Indeed, Haggard claimed in his autobiography, The Days of My Life that fate had much to do with the events that unfolded in his long career:
There’s a divinity that shapes our ends
Rough hew them how we will.[xv]
Throughout his literary work there exists a constant stream of fatalism. Fate as the imperial mandate enthrones itself in Haggard’s work, for his sense of destiny as part of the imperial project or Pax Britannica is palpable in his background, class, upbringing and life’s work.
In his fiercely imaginative romance, She, the fate of the beautiful ‘She’ who becomes a wizened old hag on entering the crematorial flame and does not survive is matched by the fate of Leo and Holly who escape from the scenario of cremation in Chapter 25 of the novel. Ayesha’s final inability to save herself from the immortal flame underlines the fatalism that besets the work and promotes the idea of the more successful fate of the white, Anglo-Saxon Protestants who colonise South Africa.
Whilst opposed to pessimism Haggard was, nevertheless, in favour of Stoicism and its close relative, Fatalism. Haggard simply could not accept the idea of chance ruling his life. His philosophy was of a spiritual determinism, or Fatalism, the indefinable nature of which leaves room for irrationality and extremism. Justifying Quatermain's Fatalism, Haggard wrote, on his going to the Sulaiman Mountains in search of diamonds:
You may wonder' I went on `why, if I think this, I, who am as I told you a timid man should undertake such a journey. It is for two reasons. First, I am a Fatalist, and believe that my time is appointed to come quite independent of my own movements, and that if I am to go to Suliman Mountains to be killed, I shall go there and be killed there. God Almighty, no doubt knows his mind about me, so I need not trouble on that point.[xvi]
Haggard was often at one with the idea of the survival of the fittest as a notion, with its corollary that the fittest were those destined to rule and that the gene pool must, therefore, contain only the best elements. In She he postulates the idea that the weak are not capable of survival. It is only the superior one in the chain of being who will continue to thrive:
Those who are weak must perish; the earth is to the strong, and the fruits thereof. For every tree that grows a score shall wither that the strong one may take their share.[xvii]
It is sentiments accruing to Fatalism that allow for a right-wing legacy to prevail over the subordinate Other in preference to the rights and opportunities that they are due. It seems likely that Haggard was influenced by Melmoth Osborn, the British Resident in his early days in East Africa. Haggard may have been more open to iconoclasm than is realised, for he allows for scepticism and relativity in religious matters, although always returning in his texts to orthodoxy of faith in a universal order.
If fatalism is the force which takes over where religious authority leaves off, then the question of what determines our actions and of what use they are, Haggard speculates, should not undermine our actions themselves. What matters more than control over these forces is our daily struggle with life and morality.[xviii] In reply to the question of endless incarnations Ernest, in The Witch's Head, who, it could be argued, speaks for Haggard himself, propounds the belief that the fundamental and one deity underlies all religion.
In furtherance of the idea of determinism, in Child of Storm (1913) Haggard proposes that men are predestined to become spirits, and for that purpose he uses the vehicle of his hunter character, Allan Quatermain to propound the theory that:
While man is man - that is, before he suffers the magical death-change into spirit, if such should be his destiny - well, he will remain man.[xix]
In The Witch's Head
She herself must die, I say, or rather change, and must sleep till it be time for her to live again[xx]
During the same introductory remarks in the novel Child of Storm, Quatermain also claims that:
... in the flesh he can never escape from our atmosphere, and while he breathes it, in the main with some variations prescribed by climate, local law and religion, he will do as much as his forefathers did for countless ages.[xxi]
These sentiments offer little hope for amelioration for his characters and presuppose that there was small chance of their achieving anything different from those who had preceded them, which underlines his sense of Fatalism. They seem fated to be mirrors of their antecedents, and Haggard gives little reason in the texts for the imperialistic activities such as big game hunting in which his characters engage, and what Madhudaya Sinha calls “the ritualised display of white dominance.”[xxii]
Fatalism meant little more than a veneer for the Haggardian character, for much of the revealed philosophy was hostile to male supremacism and unfitted, too, to the ceaseless struggle for progress which the authoritarian experience showed to be the reason behind many of man's efforts.
It is surprising that in exhibiting such fatalistic tendencies, Haggard probably failed to realise that he was revealing many sides of himself in the texts that outline his ambivalences, antipathies and certainties of class superiority.
Sojourned by fate to live in Zululand, the land and environment of Africa were attractive to Haggard. He loved to ride across the African vistas shooting for wildlife and hunting the wildebeest. En route for Maritzburg, he travelled at the gallop in a light, four-wheeled carriage. The trophies of the hunt adorned the walls of the residence with the heads of gazelle, hyena, and boar [not Boer] hanging up on display. Camping out under the stars, he enjoyed the primitive nature of the veldt, recounting in The Witch’s Head how his character Ernest Kershaw turns a part of this vast tumultuousness into an English garden, to try to preserve the identity of a rural England in the African wilderness.[xxiii]
Andrew Lang, the Scottish journalist, commenting on Haggard’s work claimed “there is much invention and imaginative power and knowledge of African character in your book…”[xxiv] Haggard formed in Natal a knowledge of African culture and society. On one hand, he developed an attraction for the Zulus and described their kraals and ‘round beehive-like huts’ in his autobiography, Haggard's apparent reverence for the Zulus, whom he fought in the Transvaal, is exemplified in the texts in episodes where warrior-like men exhibiting a strong and independent culture have much to offer the west in terms of philosophy, psychology and sociology. In particular, they are notable for the contrast which they afford to the culture of the wealthy, industrialised and technological society in England and from which it was felt lessons about lifestyles, organisation, valour and independence could be learned.
With only a thin veneer of cultural relativity to mask it, Rider Haggard’s apparent contempt for Africans, and his fundamental sense of superiority is demonstrated in a preface to a story of white deception of the Zulus, which clearly foreshadows his own duplicity towards the leaders of the Zulu nation:
All the horrors perpetrated by the Zulu tyrants cannot be published in the age of melanite and torpedoes.[xxv]
In his autobiography he drew attention to what he thought of Zulu customs and history, which he claimed to have made use of in “Nada the Lily”.
I saw a curious sight the other day, a witch dance. I cannot attempt to describe it, it is a weird sort of thing:
The Chief Interpreter of the Colony told me that he was in Zululand some years ago and saw one of these witch-findings. “There,” he said, “were collected some five thousand armed warriors in a circle, in the midst of which the witches [I should have said the witch-doctors] danced. Everyone was livid with fear, and with reason, for now and again one of these creatures would come crooning up to one of them and touch him, whereupon he was promptly put out of the world by a regiment of the king’s guard.[xxvi]
Yet, it might be argued that Haggard, in King Solomon's Mines, using his authorial voice through the character of Sir Henry extracts a promise from the chief, Ignosi that the practice of witchcraft would be discontinued.[xxvii]
Cultural relativism is only a light to be placed upon the text, for what is apparent is a patronising attitude towards the Zulu people. A Zulu is still capable in novels such as King Solomon's Mines of marrying many wives, acting in Haggard’s phrase “without the law”, being naked, killing an unwanted child, engaging in warlike behaviour, and indulging in sorcery at the same time as the author compliments him for his civilisation, society, morality and professionalism. His admiration for the Zulus, whilst tempered by remarks about their shortcomings, was evidenced in his comments made after the defeats in the Zulu war:
“The natives are the real heroes of the soil and surely should have protection and consideration…”[xxviii]
And yet, in novels like King Solomon's Mines and Allan Quatermain there exists the concept that with the simple, expeditious performance of a conjuring trick, Europeans were able to achieve superiority over African people by virtue of the possession of gunpowder and the promulgation of progressive attitudes in human psychological relationships. With a pair of false teeth and an eyeglass, and Captain Good engaging in some superior marksmanship, they may be able to turn an eclipse of the sun to their advantage by convincing the African people that they could “put out the sun”.
Allan Quatermain claims to have mystical powers and employs magical realism in his confrontation with the potentially hostile Kikuanas. Quatermain tells Twala that he and his companions come from the stars, and their rifles – which are said by the tribesman to be ‘magic tubes which speak’ as well as Captain Good’s eyeglass, false teeth and white legs, are all magical. Sir Henry Curtis does cut a ridiculous figure, of course, without his trousers and in a long shirt and with unkempt hair, but to believe that he could, thereby, terrify and subordinate other human beings is fanciful.
The assumed supremacy of the white man over the black man arises where Sir Henry Curtis is wearing an European made shirt, and because he is, after all, an English gentleman wearing a collar and tie, he retains therefore a badge of moral authority (despite his untidy, unshaven, and barelegged appearance) as a heroic leader of men, and as someone to whom as a gentleman automatic deference was due. Haggard, too, a member of the family of landed squirearchy in Norfolk probably assumed the same from his tenants, labourers and farmers.
In the same year, 1887, Haggard produced the next in the Quatermain series Allan Quatermain Captain Good and the others [not forgetting Umslopagas] journey from the coast of east Africa into the country of the Masai. Whilst staying with a Scottish priest, they are attacked by a Masai group, which they overcome with great courage. They travel by canoe inside an underground river emerging into a lake in the region of the Zu Vendis, reminding us once again of these subterranean psychological undertones that Jung examined.
The Zu-Vendis are a white, warrior, linguistic group remote from other African speakers. At the time of the narrative, they are ruled jointly by two sisters, Nyleptha and Sorais. The two sisters fall irrevocably in love with Sir Henry Curtis, and a civil war ensues. Called to action, Henry Curtis saves the day again in usual imperial fashion. Nyleptha becomes Queen and Curtis her consort, while Allan Quatermain dies from wounds received in the battle.
Illustration by Thure de Thulstrup from Maiwa's Revenge (1888).
Additionally, in his sequel, Maiwa's Revenge published in 1888, the writing on a fragment of leaf reveals that (the reborn) Allan Quatermain’s old friend, John Every, had been detained and tortured by a group of the Butiana people leading to a gallant rescue attempt by Allan Quatermain and the others. Maiwa is one of the wives of Wambe, who has killed his own child, Maiwa’s daughter, whereupon she had sworn vengeance on him and his people.
Landing up with Allan Quatermain, Sir Henry Curtis and Captain Good as well as Umslopagas, she leads them back to Maiwa’s country to exact the revenge she desires. Assembling a large party of warriors, Allan Quatermain leads them into battle, along with Maiwa’s forces, and a fight ensues. In the text Wambe's fighters are:
“a scrubby-looking lot of men armed with big spears and small shields, but without plumes”.
On the other hand, with such little time to spare, Maiwa’s supporter in the conflict, her father Nala, cannot:
“collect more than from twelve to thirteen hundred men, though, being of the Zulu stock, they were of much better stuff for fighting purposes than Wambe's Matukus.”
As we see in Thure de Thulstrup’s illustration, Allan Quatermain recounts his version:
“I mounted on a rock so as to command a view of as much of the koppie and plain as possible, and yelled to our men to reserve their fire till I gave the word,” 'Sixty yards—fifty—forty—thirty. Fire, you scoundrels!' I yelled, setting the example by letting off both barrels of my elephant gun into the thickest part of the company opposite to [me]”.
‘The Battle of the Little Hand’, is so named after the severed hand of her daughter carried by Maiwa. After the routing of Wambe's forces at the rescue of John Every, and the satisfactory enactment of Maiwa’s vengeance on her husband, Allan Quatermain recounts the story to a group of friends, ending with the surprising revelation that he has dreamt that he had wed Maiwa. Thus revealing more deep, subterranean, Jungian desires. and pointing again to Haggard’s domestic life intruding into the corpus.
Alison Blunt, Gillian Rose, . Writing women and space: colonial and postcolonial geographies. New York: Guilford Press, 1994.
[i] Interview. Mrs Nada Cheyne, Ditchingham Lodge. 30 June 2012.
[i] Interview. Ms Dorothy Cheyne, Ditchingham Lodge. 30 June 2012.
[ii] Available. Online. http://www.norfolkstainedglass.co.uk/Ditchingham/home.shtm Accessed 11.07.2012
[iii] D E Whatmore, Rider Haggard’s Good Works, Pamphlet 1. Deeds for the Church December, 1995. Pamphlet 2. Deeds for Young Children and Young People. Pamphlet 3. Deeds for the Salvation Army.
[i] See The People of the Mist (London Longmans, 1894) 17.
[iv] Lilias Haggard, The Cloak that I Left: A Biography of the Author Henry Rider Haggard (London: Hodder and Stoughton, 1950).
[v] Commander M. E. Cheyne, Speech to the Rider Haggard Festival, raising funds for Ditchingham church. 14 May 1999. A copy of the text of the speech is in the possession of the present writer. Letter. Commander M. E. Cheyne. 15 January 2000.
[vi] Lilias Haggard, The Cloak that I Left, 50.
[vii] Letter. Cmdr. Mark Cheyne to the present author. 24 February, 2000.
[viii] Interview. Mrs Nada Cheyne, Ditchingham Lodge. 30 June 2012.
[ix] Interview. Ms Dorothy Cheyne, Ditchingham Lodge. 30 June 2012.
[x] Interview. Mrs Nada Cheyne, Ditchingham Lodge. 30 June 2012.
[xi] Lilias Haggard, The Cloak that I Left, 190.
[xii] Interview. Ms Dorothy Cheyne, Ditchingham Lodge. 30 June 2012.
[xiii] Victoria Manthorpe, Children of the Empire: The Victorian Haggards (London: Victor Gollancz, 1996) 37.
[xiv] Introduction, C.J. Longman, to Henry Rider Haggard, The Days of My Life (London: Longmans, 1926) i.
[xv] Rider Haggard, The Days of My Life Chapter 2.
[xvi] Allan Quatermain in Rider Haggard, King Solomon's Mines (London: Cassell, 1885) 55
[xvii] Haggard, She, 154.
[xviii] Rider Haggard, The Witch's Head, (New York: Harper and Bros.,1884) 214
[xix] Rider Haggard, Child of Storm (London: Cassell, 1913) 2.
[xx] Haggard, She, 115.
[xxi] Haggard, Child of Storm, 2.
[xxii] Madhudaya Sinha, Unpublished PhD. University of Cincinnati Masculinity Under Siege: Gender, Empire, and Knowledge in Late Victorian Literature (University of Cincinnati, July 2012). See also Madhudaya Sinha, “Triangular Erotics: The Politics of Masculinity, Imperialism and Big-Game hunting in Rider Haggard’s, She.” Critical Survey Volume 20 Number 3 2008. 29-43.
[xxiii]Haggard, The Witch’s Head 3 Vols (London: Hurst and Blackett, 1885).
[xxiv] Haggard, The Days of My Life Chapter10.
[xxv] Haggard, Nada the Lily (New York: Longmans, Green, 1892).
[xxvi] Haggard, The Days of My Life Chapter 3.
[xxvii] RiderHaggard, King Solomon’s Mines (London: Cassell, 1885).
[xxviii] In Lindy Steibel, “Imag(in)ing Empire’s Margins: Land in Rider Haggard’s African Romances” Alternation, 5,2. 91-103. Tom Pocock, Rider Haggard and the Lost Empire (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1993) 51. fn. Available. Online. http://alternation.ukzn.ac.za/docs/05.2/09%20Sti.pdf Accessed 20. 07. 2012.
 Rider Haggard, Maiwa's Revenge, (London: Longmans, Green,1888).