Tragedy Follows Tomb Building

Sun (Auckland), Volume III, Issue 810, 2 November 1929, Page 29

Tragedy Follows Tomb Building

mystery at the cape MALAY’S PIOUS WORK

•Happenings, rivalling in weird dramatic intensity the death of Lord Carnarvon, the discoverer of the world-famous tomb of Tutankhamen, . ve just been disclosed in connection with the recent death of the rreat dealer of the Cape of Good Hope Malays, the Hadji Sullaiman SliahmatTnmed ’ who for 20 years strove to filial his life's ambition to make the historical tomb of Sheikh Joseph a rational monument, despite the repeated prophesies of the descendants Sheikh Joseph that death and disaster would overtake anyone who tampered with the shrine. The "Cape Times” reveals that it was on the very night of the Hadji’s anal inspection of his life's work, and of the formal closing of the restoration accounts, that he died. But behind this announcement, which at the very least, can only be described as a most remarkable coitiridence lies one of the most amazing and tragic stories that have ever come out of Africa, says the “Times.” In 1908 the Hadji first conceived fc| B idea of restoring the tomb of Sheikh Joseph, near Somerset West, which for years was almost unnoticed bv the European population of the Cane through it served as a Mecca to the devoted descendants of the Sheikh and the more devout of the y a lay community. Surprised Architects

One morning a well-known Capetown architect was surprised by a professional visit from a patriarchal Sistern figure—white-bearded, dignified, deliberate —wearing the black [ez of a pilgrim to Mecca, and the long grey morning coat of Western civilisation. \miable preambles, in the manner bf the East, with the senior partner ft the firm, disclosed the visitor’s identity, and his recent purchase of a piece of land on farm called Zandvliet. near Eaure, in the most remote, arid and inaccessible section of the Cape Flate. The architect was ■mazed, and began to wonder whether hfc unusual client contemplated building a residence in such an unlikely got. After the lapse of hours and Many oriental courtesies, salaams and gestures, the astonished architect found out that his client, who described himself in all humility as “the dust under the Sun’s feet,” was actually the owner of the sacred land on Which stood the immortal shrine of the “exile, martyr hero, Sheik Joseph, the greatest Malay who ever set foot on South African soil.” "No, your word is law, and I am only a puff—a breath of wind that does not count,” said this strange client in the clipped, imperfect English that came hardly to his lips. Then, in the hesitating apologetic undertone of one who contemplates the almost incredible, he revealed his design to rescue the shrine from the dilapidations of the centuries, and to maka it architecturally a fitting focus for the adoration of the Moslems. Tha architect felt himself on solid ground again. “How much do you waut to spend?” he asked. “Spend? I have no money,” replied the client. “I am a poor man. Where must I get money, who am the very dirt under your feet? You must say. The great architect must tell me whence shall come the money.”

Financial Troubles Surprised again, but by now much Intrigued, the architect suggested ways and means; but nothing of practicable value resulted. Nevertheless a visit to the tomb was arranged, and the architect and his partner made the then difficult journey through the sand dunes to the tomb that lies within the sound of the breakers of False Bay. A desolate, primitive slmost sordid, white-washed structure perched on a high dune, reached by a flight of crude limestone steps, marked the end of the journey. But that visit saw the conception of the monument that was destined to remain unborn for 20 years.

Removing their shoes the architects entered the structure, and found “a tomb, after the manner of a four-post bedstead, hung about with ostrich eggs and Christmas-tree ornaments of a tawdy and garish type.” But there, they were told, reposed the remains of ‘the Great Saint.”

Reluctantly, however, the architects ind their client were forced to admit that finance proved an insuperable obstacle to the execution of the proposed work. Proposals, drawings and suggestions were made and discussed with Oriental deliberation over a period of many months. But still finance remained the obstacle. ' Anyhow, Sheikh Joseph was a great Saint and God will bless us for our work,” was all the satisfaction on the financial question that the architects could obtain from their client, and eventually the matter was dropped on tits decision of the architects to present the Hadji with a set of drawings of the most favoured scheme and terminate their connection with the proposal. For 17 years nothing happened. Partners had como and gone, the senior partner had died, and the Great "ar was becoming a memory. But one evening, as the junior partner was about to leave his office, there appeared, from nowhere, with the customary suggestion of parlour magic that always pervaded him, the little signified figure in a black fez. From the limbo of half-forgotten memories the architect identified the client of his youth. It was the Hadji. And 80 the matter reopened. “Building For His God” ior many weary months, discussions Plans, contractors and materials -bbed and flowed between halfatnused. half-impressed architects and w client who insisted that he was building for his God” always with lfl « background of the ominous prophecies of the descendants of the s heik that the men who tampered with his tomb should die on or before ltß completion and should not grow c ‘fi to take pride in their work. , °ut the Hadji, though he discussed he question of his death half credu10usly, half dispassionately, remained on his purpose. The architects ucked him, and at last there came a when a contract was made and “fined. Difficulties of transport of •hkterial—augmented by the winter ‘‘ins— delayed the contractor. The , Fsterious appearance of the silentvf te d Hadji in the architects’ office more frequent. At least once week they would turn from their ® a wing boards to find their enigmatic enr. looking over their shoulders, ways hr had the same injunction:

j "This must be like the great tombs of i °ld, permanent and beautiful, though X am a poor man and the dust under the sun's feet.” Always he reiterated that, though he was a poor man, the architects with their heaven-sent wisdom would find a way. Once he electrified an elderly male typist in the office early one Christmas morning with the gift of half-a-crown, while the partners were genuinely touched with the gift of white flowers and a pencil each. Death and Tragedy But tragedy was to follow hotfoot. A portion of the tomb was completed and ceremoniously unveiled. Then came the time when the actual bier itself must be tackled. At this moment the grim warning of the descendants of the Sheik intensified, and at the same time legal difficulties brought the contractors and the Hadji into court with the architects as witnesses. The Hadji won compensation from the contractor, who was also forced to continue his work, hut once more the descendants of the Sheik foretold disaster and death. A short time after the contractor went bankrupt, took poison and died.

Still the Hadji was not deflected from his purpose. The architect was working at full pressure toward five o’clock one day, when the door opened, and a muffled utterance from the office boy was followed by the soft shuffling footsteps that had come to be known so well in the office. Bowing to the ground, the Hadji stood befoi-e the architect, full of evil tidings, but undaunted. At all cost he must continue to build for his God.

A new contractor was sought. After incredible difficulties a new and unknown builder was found to undertake the job. His description is on record, as “the personal devil in the costume of Charlie Chaplin with a cowboy hat.” But by this time the architects were inured to the unusual, and, like the Hadji, were not to be diverted from their purpose. This was all the more credible since the would-be contractor was addicted to peculiar acrobatics in their office, and never appeared without a large cart-whip under his coat. He produced, moreover, a European “partner,” with whom he exchanged music-hall back-chat in the office. Later, the European took on the contract, and undertook to defy the whole tribe of the descendants of the Sheik with theix- prophesies. He proved as good as his word. Troubles beset him from the start. The faithful denied him admission to the site. Threats of violence were freely offered. He soon reported that he feared his drinking water had been doped with poison. Then he bought a gun and spent several nights on the site blazing away at shadows in the hopes of winging the dark and sinister figure that always appeared at dusk with grave warnings for him and the Hadji. His pet black cat, which the faithful regarded as au omen of evil, narrowly escaped destruction at their hands. Legal actions were brought against him for the alleged indiscriminate shooting upon the aged faithful, and for the free and effective use of pick-handles in protecting his materials. Thefts and sabotage were frequent. At last there ckme the night when the actual remains of the Sheik had to be shifted to conform to the new design of the tomb. For weeks before the Hadji’s visits to the architects had become more agitated and more lengthy. Removing the Body Midnight was chosen as the hour of the exhumation. Everything was prepared to the last screw. All was timed, by the Hadji’s special request, not to conflict with the fast-days or the faithful. The rising of the new moon was the signal of the end of the fast and of the night of the exhumation. Concrete was already dry-mixed. Special lorries had taken the inscribed marble slab and materials to the site. Feeling was running higher than ever, the followers having wind of what was afoot. The Hadji visited the architects in ecstasy at the climax of the building for his God. The contractor oiled his gun and got ready his pickhandles, and put the black cat in a place of safety. The new moon rose. The contractor went to the site. Tools had been stolen; tar blackened the gate-posts of the property, and in the entrance to the monument stood the sinister black figure of doom.

The conti-actor felled him with a pick-handle and the work proceeded. Within a few days the work was finished, and almost immediately the tomb was thronged with Malay pilgrims bent on another festival. The contractor found business in town. His wife showed symptoms of anxiety. The Hadji was in the seventh heaven of delight, but still nothing untoward happened. Eventually all formalities were finised and the final inspections made. For the last time the Hadji called on the ai-chitects to pass the final accounts. Once more he assured them that he was dirt under their feet, and took the opportunity of telling them how grateful he was for all their troubles. They parted with the usual elaborate courtesies and he left them at sundown to pay a triumphant visit to the tomb where again the black figure appeared silhouetted against the moon. That night he died. A week later two little parcels of funeral cake arrived in the architects’ office.