When the discerning and articulate critic of architecture, who has yet to come, visits us in Natal, his first remark will be that there is no Natal architecture. Occasional efforts, interesting, naive, even scholarly, can be found, but they might have been produced anywhere else. Our public buildings, in Pietermaritzburg and Durban, might be the public buildings of Vancouver or Adelaide.
- Wallace Paton, 1924

There has been no gradual evolution of later and more civilized forms of architecture from older and more primitive forms. .. we have simply come upon them suddenly and without warning, and have begun to erect. .. the self same structures that adorn, or otherwise, the cities of London and Birmingham...
- C.W.Methven, 1898

Discerning critics (and those less discerning) have been visiting Natal for 150 years, but the time has not arrived for the comments of Wallace Paton and Cathcart Methven to be superseded. Natal's Capital City has never been architecturally unique despite its location and the inevitable eccentricities that result from colonial isolation.

Numerous visitors have remarked on its pleasant setting, the haphazard range and quality of its structures and the lack of aesthetic town planning which is so characteristic of many nineteenth-century British settlements. Their comments, at best affectionate, usually indicate lack of approval. 'Alongside of Durban,' declares a visitor of 1926, 'Maritzburg cannot claim the adjective "splendid" '. And, at the height of her prosperity and architectural growth, a local journalist in 1898 cuts her down to size, thus:

'Maritzburg naturally is one of the prettiest towns in S. Africa, but artificially it is one of the most hideous. There is a complete absence of symmetry, a total lack of uniformity in colour, and a super-abundance of architectural monstrosities. Our roads are rugged, our footpaths uneven, and wherever it is possible to disfigure or render a place inartistic the opportunity is immediately seized. The Town Hall. .. always gives one the impression that it was dropped from the skies and just missed striking the kerbstone ... The Legislative buildings may not be handsome. .. but whatever beauty they possess is completely discounted by the fact that on one side they are bordered by diminutive one-storey shanties'.

At all stages of its history, even today, Pietermaritzburg's critics express disappointment. Why such criticism, and what, if any, were people's expectations? The comments of Paton and Methven, two of the leading architects of Natal, are revealing. The colonist of 1898 compares his city with those of Britain or 'Home'.

And the provincial architect of 1924 looks with envy at other cities of the Empire. Ambition and homesickness led to the attempted reproduction of familiar environments and structures. The aspirations of a typical Victorian city, no matter how poor, included buildings for every required public function: a town hall in which burgesses could meet and be entertained, a library, a museum, a theatre, schools and colleges, a railway station, a market place and police headquarters, post office, government offices and a prestigious residence for the head of government. Pietermaritzburg was no exception, but was the victim of a series of economic booms and slumps which resulted in the piecemeal collection of these assets. Thus its first public building of merit, Paterson's Courthouse and Post Office (1865), was designed during a period of optimism. A foundation stone was laid, but, with the onset of a disastrous economic depression, no construction work was possible and the building was completed only ten years later. The Courthouse rose in solitary splendour and Pietermaritzburg citizens longed in vain for the means to better the achievements of Durban, its wealthier rival.

Despite its status as the colonial Capital, Pietermaritzburg's private sector was notoriously tightfisted. The municipality and Government were expected to foot the bill for the grandiose settings in which people of quality could disport themselves. Those who formed the social circles of the Governor, the British garrison, and the intellectual and religious hierarchies of what was, after all, the administrative not commercial, Capital of Natal, lived on fixed salaries. There were no captains of industry, few 'gentlemen' of independent means, and the wealthier professions tended to make Durban their headquarters.

It goes without saying that public buildings were intended as lasting architectural monuments. Most educated Britons had received a classical training and considered the man who could not identify the orders of Greek and Roman architecture to be little more than a savage. Important public buildings were therefore designed to resemble Greek temples or Renaissance palaces. In England, however, a movement, pioneered by church architects, had popularized the non-classical styles, especially Gothic. Medieval styles had been popularized in church architecture to the extent that most Victorians came to assume that Gothic was the only appropriate style for ecclesiastical buildings. Indeed, the majority of church architecture in nineteenth-century South Africa followed these lines. But Gothic only gained respectability for secular works during the 1850s when the Houses of Parliament in London were rebuilt in an elaborate Perpendicular style. The architects and public, faced with such a radical choice, took sides and argued passionately over each major public commission. This state of affairs was referred to as 'The Battle of Styles' and raged uninterrupted until the close of the century. Natal, cut off from the architectural mainstream, tended to be conservative. Fashionable flights of fantasy were discouraged, at least during the earlier periods. The Courthouse resembles an unpretentious Italian villa. It was followed in 1881 by Dudgeon's elegant Renaissance Town Offices and in 1883 the competition for the new Legislative Assembly Buildings was won by a severely classical design with an imposing Corinthian facade and debating chamber. The next public commission of note was J .S. Brunskill's Police Station (1884), which also toed the line with its rusticated ground floor, heavy balustrades and brick pilasters.

This pattern was broken in 1889 when the municipality chose for its Town Hall, not a Gothic design, but one in the new Free Renaissance style. This was an eclectic mixture of elements based on Flemish Renaissance buildings which combined features from the Middle Ages and classicism. This was indeed an avant-garde choice, contemporary with some of Britain's first attempts in the new style. Despite loud protests from local classicists who had hoped to better Durban's old Town Hall, it became popular and set the pattern for architecture in Pietermaritzburg for the next thirty years.

One very practical reason for this was the cheapness and availability of brick which was a feature of the style. The stone required for classical facades had to be imported and was therefore expensive. The municipality had specified brick for the new Town Hall and the warm salmon tones of locally-produced Pietermaritzburg bricks and tiles became the favourite medium of architect William Street-Wilson, head of the firm responsible for this building. His office produced a number of important and influential examples of Free Renaissance architecture in Pietermaritzburg: St. Anne's College, Hilton; the Public Baths, Buchanan Street; Scott's Theatre; the Railway Station; the Bank of Africa Longmarket Street; and, not least, the exist ing City Hall which was commissioned when the first structure burnt down in 1898. Outraged classicists complained in vain as an even more elaborate collection of turrets, pilasters, gables, and plaster ornament replaced the original design.But other architects soon fulfilled the demand for shops, schools and offices in the new style.

Classicism did not, of course, lose prestige. Loyalty to the Empire was reinforced by the Anglo-Boer War of 1899-1901 and, architecturally, took the form of a bombastic Baroque revival. At the turn of the century, building in Natal was influenced by Baker, Lutyens and Shaw, who had spearheaded this movement in Britain.

The classical simplicity of central Church Street in the 1880s (above), compared with the ornateness of the early Edwardian era (below).

Important examples in Pietermaritzburg include the Railway Engineer's Office and the new Colonial Buildings. As far as expression of the grandiose was concerned, this was Pietermaritzburg's swan-song. Edwardian jingoism was suppressed as Natal was subjected to a devastating economic depression following the Anglo-Boer War. Architects and builders were the first to feel its effects.

Left: A turn-of-the-century corner shop, in the Free Renaissance Style.

By 1908, 80 per cent of Natal firms had either closed or their owners had emigrated. Financial rescue must have been uppermost in many Natalians' hearts when the electorate were called to vote for or against Union in 1909. Citizens of Pietermaritzburg must have been bitterly disappointed by the outcome, however. Despite its continued status as a provincial capital, Pietermaritzburg's social prestige was destroyed as most senior civil servants were retrenched or removed to the Transvaal.

Durban, with its harbour facilities and industry, took over the lead in Natal, socially, economically and architecturally. After 1918, Pietermaritzburg stagnated. Few important public commissions were executed as architects and builders in the City struggled to survive in yet another post-war depression.

Above: A Victorian double-storey veranda house. demolished in 1979.

Above: 'An excrescene on a roof behind a covered veranda.' Cape Dutch revival in Scottsville.

Above: A bad row of teeth?

The relationship between economic and architectural progress can be seen most clearly when the contribution of the private sector is examined. Private enterprise in Pietermaritzburg tended to cater for the rural community of the Midlands and for the immediate needs of the inhabitants. As the Natal Mercury commented in 1926:

It was the intention of public institutions to finance lasting architectural monuments. Current financial difficulties might hinder their attempts, but efforts were usually rewarded with structures that suggested stability and permanency. Private architecture, on the other hand, was at liberty to follow fashion or to ignore it, and is a more obvious reflection of the growth and character of the City. Of such commercial buildings, Paton wrote:

Ironically, the period of greatest uniformity, not to mention fitness and beauty, was the mid-nineteenth century. Early views of Church Street reveal a preference for classical facades of a Georgian simplicity. As shop owners prospered they began to show a Victorian weakness for architectural excess. Ornate cast-iron verandas were imported from Glasgow and pinned onto the elegant Renaissance fronts, giving Pietermaritzburg streets a trans-Atlantic character. At the time of the late Victorian and Edwardian period, Free Renaissance reigned supreme. Complex arrangements of brick and plaster rose above the cast iron and were surmounted by fantastic towers and turrets. Well might the confirmed classicist wince. Yet despite individual aberrations the City retained its pleasantly human scale, and the ubiquitous red brick provided a unifying factor, with the new City Hall forming a climax at the centre of the town.

The origins and development of domestic architecture in Pietermaritzburg followed a similar pattern. The earliest houses built by the Dutch were utilitarian in the extreme. British settler dwellings differed only in their adherence to the vernacular of the English counties. As the century progressed more ambitious red-brick villas became the norm, with deep verandas and steeply pitched roofs. In keeping with the economic conditions described earlier, few palatial dwellings were created. Even the Governor had to make do with a thatched cottage during the early years. And the double-storey residences of the more prestigious areas do not compare even remotely with the grand Edwardian homes of Johannesburg or Cape Town.

The average dwelling was based in most cases on the designs published in builders' manuals popular at the time. There was much use of Free Renaissance details, bow windows, Gothic plaster-work, and ornamental wood or iron verandas. As with commercial architecture, scale, colour and proportion were unpretentious and attractive, this impression being enhanced by the tree-lined streets and well-developed gardens. Alas, the architects of the day did not see things in such a rosy light. The British Arts and Crafts movement, with its insistence on truth to materials, had many followers in South Africa who tried, without success, to educate the public. The widespread practice of speculative building and the use of mass produced materials imported from Britain and America were frequently criticized. Paton commented: 'Fit and beautiful domestic building - the terms are synonymous - depends on the apt utilisation of local materials, to suit the climate of the country, and the habits of the inhabitants. But what could our poor grandfathers do? They had to build cheaply, and they had to build quickly. We were a commercial and importing community mostly; Natal was described as a forwarding agency in a kafir location. Therefore it was cheaper and quicker, and also good for trade to get our timber and doors and window s and ready-made fretwork for veranda ornaments from Sweden, and corrugated iron from Germany, and cast-iron balconies from Glasgow, and then, with a matchboard lining and perhaps some imported scrim and wallpaper, there was the house. It is still the secret ideal of the building societies and the older and more conservative artisans'.

It pained architects to see London suburbia transported to Natal without regard for the climate or locality. According to Methven 'we stew under the corrugated iron roofs of houses decorated on the outside with cast iron atrocities, and on the inside with cheap oleography'. A new style of great promise was looming on the horizon, however.

After Union was enacted in May 1910, the novelty of political unity inspired architects nationwide to adopt local rather than imported styles. White settlers had studiously ignored indigenous cultures in Africa. Like British colonists everywhere, the Natalians had tended to be intolerant of all nations except their own. In Natal this intolerance had applied to any coloured races, and to the Dutch whom they despised. Ironically, the 'indigenous' architecture chosen by patriotic architects was the Cape Dutch style, which was introduced to Pietermaritzburg in 1910 by Collingwood Tully who had been invited by the Government to restore the old Church of the Vow.

This humble structure, reputedly built by the Voortrekkers in 1838, was of great emotional importance to the new Union Government and was to be converted into a Voortrekker Museum. Its appearance, never particularly aesthetic, had deteriorated, however. The well-meaning architect organized complete reconstruction with elaborate gables and teak woodwork specially imported from the Cape. To the Arts and Crafts enthusiasts the style was instantly acceptable, with its use of indigenous materials, local associations and picturesque charm. Tully followed his Voortrekker Museum with a Cape Dutch YWCA on the corner of Chapel Street. This structure was an indication of things to come. He abandoned the traditional forms and applied Cape Dutch decorative elements to what is, essentially, a Victorian double-storey veranda house. The speculative builder struck once more. His dubious skills populated Pietermaritzburg during the 1920s and 30s with Cape Dutch houses of all descriptions, very few of them in any way authentic. Wallace Paton, exasperated, asked:

'And are we not tired of the curly gable, planted, willy nilly, on to the four-roomed villa of our suburbs?. .. At Morgenster or Stellenberg, at Tokai or Constantia, it is fitting and beautiful behind its open pillared stoep. But what is it doing here? - An excrescence on a roof behind a covered veranda'.

The Cape Dutch style was the last architectural innovation in Pietermaritzburg before the universal adoption of contemporary modes. It is interesting to note, in conclusion, that some of the earliest examples of the International style in South Africa were built here. Emerging from the depression of the 1930s, Natal, as a whole, was ready to accept modernism as an expression of optimism and progress. The forlorn lack of development before the Second World War was more than compensated for during the 1950s when much redevelopment of an unexpectedly sensitive quality took place in town and in the suburbs. Older inhabitants complained at the time that familiar landmarks were disappearing too rapidly.

However, the character of the City must have been sufficiently authentic for Nikolaus Pevsner, the eminent architectural historian, to observe that Pietermaritzburg was one of the best preserved Victorian cities in the world. How different the City appears after the last two decades. Paton's depressing simile of the bad row of teeth has indeed come to pass: isolated Victorian gems exist uneasily in the shadow of anonymous sky-scrapers, and surviving villas are flanked by parking lots and demolition sites. If Pevsner were to visit today, what would his comments be?

Source: Pietermaritzburg 1838-1988: a new portrait of an African city, edited by John Laband and Robert Haswell (Pietermaritzburg: Univerversity of Natal Press and Shuter & Shooter, 1988) pp.48-51.