Norman – ‘Rae’ of Sunshine...

 In honour of:

Captain Norman Gordon RAE, MC (1886-1977)

and the Australian Light Horsemen who served in World War 1.

From Nanneella to Nymagee, an intriguing narrative about a young farmer who advanced his life by becoming a WW1 Light Horse cavalryman, a courageous Defence Force Officer, a loving family man who experienced personal tragedies and an outback pastoralist, who devoted his life to national and community service. 

by 

Lance F Marke  (great-great nephew), who also provided the pictures. 

Edited by Leon J. Lyell, with thanks to Lance Marke for permission to do so and to publish the story.

Normal Rae as I remember him: Editor.

Early life and family

When Mary Rae welcomed the birth of her 7th child, Norman Gordon on 3 May 1886, she and her husband Michael could never have imagined the extraordinary and fulfilling life their son Norman would experience. 

Norman was born at ‘Prairie’, at Nanneella, near Rochester, Victoria, a vibrant rural area some 200 km north of Melbourne. He was a new brother to Annie Janet 11, Minnie Agnes 9, Michael Alexander (deceased), Florence Maud 6, Beatrice Mary 4 and Lilly Alice 2. Marion Mabel and Albert John would be born after him. 

Norman was educated at the Nanneella South State School and then Scotch College, Melbourne (1901-1903). At 17, Norman left Scotch College due to his father’s ill health returning home to help his mother and sisters complete the many arduous farming tasks. His father, Michael suffered from Parkinson’s disease and passed away in 1910.  

Norman was a great sportsman playing football for both the Scotch College 1st team and captained the Rochester Football team. He was an accomplished horseman and exhibited draught horses in agricultural shows including the Royal Melbourne Show and was a member a debating team.

Norman’s Parents 

Norman’s father Michael (1834-1910) migrated to Australia from Stirling, Scotland, arriving at Melbourne on the ship ‘Ebba Brahe’ in December 1857. Stirling, north-west of Edinburgh, was known for its rich farming land along the River Forth.  Michael’s early occupations included ‘gold miner’ and ‘farmer’.

Norman’s mother Mary (nee Campbell) (1851-1924) migrated to Australia unassisted on the ‘Red Jacket’ with her parents Alexander and Ann (nee McBain) and sisters arriving in Melbourne in February1866. The Campbell’s hailed from the ‘Bogs of Davley’, Forres, about 40 km northeast of Inverness. The Campbells first selected land at Timmering in 1883. Later they purchased land and built a home on Winter Road, Nanneella and became associated with the Rae family. Michael and Mary married at the Christ Church of England, Echuca, on 7 August 1873. 

Farming at Nanneella

The name ‘Nanneella’ is thought to be an aboriginal word for Sandy Creek. The larger district area was known as ‘Yalooka’, and for thousands of years was home to the ‘Pinpandoor’ aboriginal tribe.

The Federal ‘Grant Act 1869’ allowed prospective farmers to select land and apply for a licence. After three years of improving the land, farmers could either buy or lease the land for another seven years until the full price was paid. This legislation and the selection and leasing arrangement created a land rush to many farming areas including northern Victoria during 1870 -1874. The 1888 Nanneella Parish Plan shows the Rae family owning several lots of land near the current intersection of Webb Road with Winter Road.  

The 375 kilometres long, manmade Waranga-Mallee irrigation channel was a few hundred metres south of their property. The irrigation water provided by this channel was a lifeblood to nearby farmers, guaranteeing increased production of pastures, crops, fruits and vegetables. 

Michael and Mary were progressive farmers, buying and leasing more land to expand their enterprise, growing more cereal crops, as well as breeding draught horses, Jersey cattle and later a vineyard and orchards. They were well respected, energetic and community-minded. Later, Mary and the Timbering Rae’s children worked hard, farming their land and making value-added produce; cream, butter and jams.  

In June 1914, the local newspaper advised that Norman wished to sell ‘Trainors' consisting of choice irrigable land together with a four-bedroom weatherboard house. The farm was had loose loamy soils, post and wire fences, and irrigations channels, with every acre within half a mile of the Waranga-Mallee Channel. A few weeks later, the newspaper reported that the Norman was keen on moving to the Yanco irrigation area, north of Narrandera, NSW, which is supplied by the mighty Murrumbidgee River.  

All these plans came to a sudden halt with the outback of WW1 in August 1914. 

The Rae farm at Nanneella.

The Light Horse Regiments

In 1885, mounted infantrymen formed regiments known as the Victorian Mounted Rifles (VMR) to defend and protect their Colony from an invasion. A militia force of competent horsemen and riflemen holding designated ranks were located throughout Victoria. In the late 1890s, about 3,500 VMR members volunteered to go to South Africa to fight in the Boer War.

All existing cavalry and mounted riflemen after Federation in 1903 were designated ‘Light Horse’. The distinguished Victorian Rangers detachment at Rochester became the 9th Light Horse Regiment (VMR). In 1912, the 17th Campaspe Light Horse Regiment was formed by combining regiments from North and Central Victoria.  In 1913, King George V accepted an invitation to become Colonel-in-Chief of the Australian Light Horse.

Before WW1, there were 23 Light Horse regiments of militia volunteers throughout Australia. Many men from these units joined the Light Horse regiments of the Australian Imperial Force (AIF) when WW1 commenced. Norman Rae had been a member of the 17th, Campaspe Valley Light Horse Militia based at Rochester for 9 years and rose to the rank of Lieutenant. 

Enlisting for WW1

At the start of World War I, Australia committed to providing an all-volunteer expeditionary force of 20,000 personnel known in the AIF, which would consist of an infantry division and a Light Horse brigade. As Australia's commitment to the war increased, the size of the Light Horse contingent was expanded, with a second and third Light Horse brigade being raised in late 1914 and early 1915.  Eventually, the Australian Light Horse regiments were organised into four brigades, 1st, 2nd, 3rd & 4th; and 12 Regiments, 1st to 12th. 

Norman Gordon RAE was a single, 28-year-old farmer when he volunteered barely a fortnight after the outbreak of the First World War. Many men enlisting in Australia Light Horse Regiments pleaded to take their own horses with them. Norman took his own personal horse named ‘Vanish’. The Government would have paid him about $60 to buy his horse, which was then branded with the Government broad arrow, the initials of the purchasing officer, and an army number on one hoof. Within eight weeks, Norman and ‘Vanish’ had embarked for overseas on HMAS ‘S.S. Wiltshire’ on 10 October 1914. Some 135,926 Walers (strong, hardy, stock horses) were sent overseas from Australia during WW1 (1914-1918), some being provided to the British and Indian armies.

Twenty men from the Rochester district enlisted with Norman. 

Captain Rae and 'Vanish' at Heliopolis, Cairo 1916.

The 4th Light Horse Regiment, part of the 4th Light Horse Brigade, AIF

The 4th Light Horse Regiment was formed as a divisional cavalry regiment on 11 August 1914. The regiment sailed from Melbourne arriving in Egypt on 10 December. Members of the Light Horse Regiment were experienced marksmen and excellent horsemen.  

Originally, the Regiment was considered unsuitable for operations at Gallipoli but was subsequently deployed in May 1915 without their horses to reinforce the infantry. Much of the regiment's time at Gallipoli was spent defending the precarious ANZAC position, most frequently around Ryrie's Post, but its squadrons were involved in several minor attacks. The 4th Light Horse Regiment withdrew from the peninsula on 11 December 1915. 

In 1916 the 4th Light Horse Regiment was engaged in security tasks in the Suez Canal Zone. In April 1917 it moved up into the Sinai desert in the wake of the main British and dominion advance but continued to undertake further security duties. 

Finally, after three years, on 31 October 1917, the Regiment was assigned its first major battle, known as the ‘Battle of Beersheba’, at short notice. The bravery and courage of the 4th and 8th Light Horse Regiments in securing Beersheba and its wells won them legendary status amongst defence forces around the world.   

After Gaza fell on 7 November 1917, Turkish resistance in southern Palestine collapsed. The 4th Light Horse participated in the pursuit that followed and then spent the first months of 1918 resting and training. The Brigade moved into the Jordan Valley in time to also participate in the Es Salt raids in April and May. 

In August, the regiment was issued with swords and trained in traditional cavalry tactics in preparation for the next offensive against the Turks. This was launched along the Palestine coast on 19 September 1918 - its objective, Damascus. The mounted forces penetrated deep into the Turkish rear areas severing roads, railways and communications links. 

On 1 October 1918, a patrol of the 4th Light Horse, commanded by Sergeant Frank Organ, was the first allied troops to enter Damascus. The regiment was soon involved in the next stage of the advance and was on its way to Homs when the Turks surrendered on 30 October.

Some long-serving troopers began to embark for home soon after and while the rest waited their turn, the 4th Light Horse was called back to operational duty to quell the Egyptian revolt that erupted in March 1919; order was restored in little over a month. The regiment sailed for home on 15 June 1919.

The Australian Light Horsemen through their courageous battles had liberated the lives of many historical occupiers of several ancient cities of Biblical times.  

The unwritten motto of the Australian Light Horsemen was that no sound man should allow himself to be taken prisoner and no wounded man should be allowed to fall into enemy hands. In the two and years of their campaigns in the challenging deserts, only 73 Light Horsemen were captured by the Turks, however, during that period the Light Horsemen captured 40,000 Turks. 

"The Australian Light Horseman has proved himself equal to the best. He has earned the gratitude of the Empire and the admiration of the world." - General Edmund Allenby.

Where the Lighthorseman got his skill.

The Battle of Beersheba

Beersheba, a heavily fortified town 43 km from the Turkish bastion of Gaza, was the scene of an historic charge by the Australian 4th and 8th Light Horse Regiment at dusk on 31 October 1917. 

The first attack had been launched at dawn but by late afternoon the British 20 Corps had made little headway toward the town and its vital wells. Although the British infantry had captured most of their objectives, it was the Australians and New Zealanders who had to make dismounted advances across open ground against two strongly defended hill-forts.

Major General Harry Chauvel, the first Australian to be promoted to Major General by the British High Command, was then appointed commander of the Desert Mounted Corps. He ordered the 4th and 8th Light Horse Regiments forward in an attempt to secure Beersheba and the much-needed wells under the control of Brigadier General William Grant. 

The 800 strong ‘ANZAC Mounted Division’ had made its way along dangerous, ill-defined pathways towards their assembly point, 4 kilometres from the Turk held outpost of Beersheba.

By late afternoon, the two British strong points had fallen, but there were still heavily manned trenches protecting Beersheba. Time was precious, the sun was starting to set, darkness would be an obstacle and many of the horses had already been without water for nearly 48 hours. The smell of moisture was in the nostrils of the thirsty steeds, nothing was going to stop them.  

Brigadier Grant suggested to Chauvel that two of his regiments, the 4th and 12th, could make a mounted charge against these remaining defences.  Such a thing had never been heard of; a mounted charge across about four kilometres of open ground against entrenched infantry supported by artillery and machine guns. Chauvel agreed.

The 4th & 8th regiments formed up behind the cover of a ridge and then moved off in a three-lined charge formation, going from walk-march to a trot, then a canter.  At the signal ‘charge’, the infantrymen rode at full gallop for the last couple kilometres, spurred on with wild yells, drawing their bayonets as swords and waving them in the fading sunlight with great momentum in the surprise attack on Turkish defences.

The Light Horsemen jumped the trenches and some leapt to the ground for an ugly man-on-man fight. Others galloped through the defences and into Beersheba as demolition charges, set by the Germans, started to blow up the precious wells and key buildings.

Fortunately, within minutes, the German officer in charge of the demolition had been captured by a Light Horseman. Most of the wells were saved.  The limited water available was shared by the troopers and horses as they swarmed the wells. Troopers watered their dehydrated horses in canvas troughs as they fell to their knees to drink beside their thirty mounts.

By nightfall, Beersheba was officially in the hands of British control under General Sir Edmund Allenby's army. Of the 800 men who rode in the charge, only 31 had been killed. Over 1,000 Turkish prisoners were taken.

The fall of Beersheba thus opened the way for a general outflanking of the Gaza-Beersheba Line. After severe fighting Turkish forces abandoned Gaza on 6 November and began their withdrawal into Palestine, changing again the history and occupation of the Middle East.

The Light Horsemen as mounted infantrymen with their superb Walers had carried out one of the most famous, successful and celebrated cavalry charges in history; against what seemed impossible odds.  During the five weeks of this Middle East offensive, the ANZAC’s of the Desert Mounted Corps had advanced over 800 kilometres, had taken nearly 80,000 prisoners and had lost a remarkably low 650 men from battle casualties.

This was a significant effort for the Australian Light Horsemen after the horrors and failures at Gallipoli. The Beersheba battle basically helped bring the three years Middle East War to a conclusion. The courage, commitment and unfortunate losses of our soldiers in World War 1 forged and sealed the righteous spirit and true values we still share as everyday Australians; mateship, integrity, courage, sacrifice, selflessness and ingenuity.    

Captain Norman Rae was commander in charge of ‘C’ Squadron during the ‘Battle of Beersheba’. 128 infantrymen made up a Squadron, therefore Captain Rae was ‘in charge' of about one 6th of the Light Horsemen who participated in this famous charge. He served in Gallipoli, Egypt and the Middle East.  He participated in every action undertaken by the 4th Light Horse Regiment. Vice-Captain George Rankin, a close friend of Norman’s also participated in the ‘Battle of Beersheba’. 

The AIF at Beersheba.

Norman’s Military Service

Norman took an oath to serve his King and Country on 27 August 1914, a few weeks after World War 1 broke out. He joined the 4th Light Horse Regiment of the 4th Light Horse Brigade with his own horse ‘Vanish’ and his Australian Imperial Force was 486.  He was promoted to Sergeant after 2 weeks on 16 September 1914 and served seven months continuous duty at Gallipoli.  

Norman’s 4th Light Horse Regiment was the only AIF unit to serve on each of WW1’s three major fronts; Gallipoli, Egypt and Palestine. Norman’s war service record indicates he was promoted to be 2nd Lieutenant in succession to Lieutenant Bourchier on 20 July 1915.  

Norman got very sick with fever and gastritis in September- October 1916, was hospitalised and sent to England for treatment and recovery. He arrived back to Egypt in December 1916 to active duty again, re-joining the 4th Light Horse Regiment in late December 1916 and was promoted to Major on 10 May 1917. On 17 August 1917, he was assigned to command ‘C’ Squadron, with Vice Major G. J. Rakin appointed as his 2nd in command.   

On 16 November 1917, he was awarded the Military Cross for gallantry and devotion to duty in the field at the Battle of Beersheba. Norman returned to Australia and was honourably discharged in October 1919 after serving King and Country for 5 years and 2 months.

The Military Cross

The Military Cross is the third-level military decoration awarded to officers and other ranks of the British Armed Forces and used to be awarded to officers of other Commonwealth countries.  Norman was awarded the Military Cross in November 1917 however was presented with the Military Cross by King George 5th at a service held at Buckingham Palace, London.  His Military Cross citation reads: 

“...For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty.  During the regiment’s mounted attack on the hostile trenches, he single-handed captured over 60 prisoners, and set a fine example to his men under heavy rifle and machine-gun fire.” London Gazette – Fourth Supplement No 30482, 15 January 1918.

The Military Cross.

Norman’s own family

Whilst in England, on leave from the military in 1918, Norman began courting his future wife, Margaret (Madge) Harris. Margaret was from a wealthy upper-class British family, being related to the business ‘English Harris Tea and Coffee’ merchants. She was used to being served by maids and servants.  Madge was born on 24 November 1892 at Black Torrington, Devon. Her father was a farmer, Robert Thornhill Harris and her mother Margaret Kate nee Gossage. 

Norman wanted to return to Australia and set up a home before sending for Madge to join him in marriage. Madge migrated from Halwill Manor, Beaworthy, North Devon, United Kingdom, about 200 miles south-west of London. They were married at Christ Church, South Yarra on 28 September 1921; Madge was 28 and Norman was 35.  

They first settled on a farm called ‘Fernhill’, Crowther NSW, about 30 km south of Cowra. Norman had built their home, a slab hut, built from timber found on the property.  Whilst farming ‘Fernhill’, Norman and Madge had four children, Katherine Mary (1923-2006), Arnold Robert Michael. ‘Clancy’ (1927-2012) whose ashes are scattered over ‘The Overflow’), Gordon David Harris (1930-1936) and Murray William Harris (1932-1939).

Tragedy struck this family, two of their sons, Gordon and Murray died as young children.  Gordon, aged 6, was killed after being hit by a car in Sydney and Murray, aged 7, died of meningitis at ‘The Overflow’. 

In 1936, school was cancelled due to a polio outbreak.  Norman seized this opportunity to take his family on a world tour. Their 5th child, Tindall Constance was born in South Hampton, England on 8 January 1937. After returning to Australia, they moved their farming enterprise and purchased the outback station known as ‘The Overflow’, Nymagee, NSW, about 80 km south of Cobar.

‘The Overflow’, Nyngan, NSW

Almost being at the dead centre of New South Wales, ‘The Overflow’ is a traditional outback Sheep Station 90 kilometres South West of Nyngan and 600 kilometres North West of Sydney. It is located in the Bogan Shire on Pangee Road, near Babadah Rd about 30 kilometres south-east of Nymagee.  The station has good soils but rainfall ‘the gift of farming prosperity and life’, is somewhat unreliable.

The ‘Overflow’ entered the Australian cultural conscience in 1889 with the poem ‘Clancy of the Overflow’ by Banjo Paterson, where Banjo had met Clancy at shearing time.  

Norman Rae purchased the ‘Overflow’ station around 1937. In the 1970s this station covered some 10,000 acres but in earlier days it was much larger.  It boasted a 101-stand shearing shed and at shearing time employed 100 shearers and another 100 roustabouts and stockmen. Built in 1881, was a 48-stand shearing shed and a woolshed that could hold the locals use to know Norman by his nickname ‘The Captain’.  Later, Norman’s son Arnold was known locally as ‘Clancy’.

Norman’s Community Service

Such was the esteem with which he was held in Rochester that the position of President, Rochester Agricultural and Pastoral Society occupied by him at the time of enlistment, was kept open until his return from the war.

Norman was a Councillor of the Bogan Shire Council for 10 years and is thought to have served with the Frankston Masonic Lodge.

Norman and Margaret established a branch of the Church of England, firstly in the own garage and later a new church called St Silas, Church of England, at Seaford South, which was served with a minister coming from St Pauls at Frankston.  Norman and Margaret taught Sunday school there for many years. [Editor’s note: the St Silas story is worth telling and I hope to do so in later items. The Church began in the early 1960s and closed a few years after Norman Rae's death.]

Retirement

Norman and Margaret moved back to Victoria in 1951.

They had part of ‘The Overflow’ homestead transported to Fortescue Ave, Seaford where they built a new home.  They called their home, ‘Dunslavin’ because of the effort involved in the 850-kilometre move. [Editors note: tragically, this timber home with a veranda on three sides, was demolished and replaced by pleasant though unhistorical flats.]

Norman would often tell humorous stories about this time in the War to family members however he never spoke about his own personal astounding achievements. 

Norman passed away in 1977 and Madge (Margaret) in 1979. Both are buried at the Frankston Cemetery.

 

Further Reading:

Sunday School Captain: My glimpse of Norman Gordon Rae MC 

A ‘new’ photo of an Australian Beersheba hero? 

Joan’s 100th

Mum, Joan Kathleen Marsh, was born at Phoobsering Tea Estate, just north of Darjeeling on 14 February 1921. The estate was one of the oldest in the area and the bungalow she was born in was built in the 1860s. Here are a few photos of her early life to mark the centenary of her birth.

The earliest known picture shows Joan, with her mother Evelyn, visiting her Glaswegian grandparents Claud and Margaret Bald in August 1922. The Balds had recently retired from the Darjeeling tea industry and were living in London. The picture has been automatically colourised but is probably fairly accurate (green for grass is a safe bet).

This picture shows Margaret and Joan (right and incognito) at the old house in Phoobsering, together with two of the outdoor staff.

This picture shows Joan taller and more confident on her donkey in the centre. Margaret is on the left and an unknown child on the right, perhaps the child of the assistant manager at Phoobsering. The girls were brought up by an Ayah (the woman on the right is probably Ayha to that child) and the tea bushes of Phoobersing were Joan's kindergarten. Joan’s first language was ‘Paharia’.

Joan was 'sent' to boarding school, with her sister, in far off Worthing, England, at the age of eight. The school aimed to educate the Empire's children who, in previous generations, found English monoculture unsettling. She spent summer holidays with her grandmother Margaret Bald and aunt Agnes or her aunt Ruth (who married Arthur Campbell) in Bangor, Wales. Joan and Ruth exchanged Xmas letters until Ruth died in 1988. In spite of the relatively enlightened education she received, and the support of extended family, Joan had trouble adapting to England but her mischievous cynicism found joy. She avoided compulsory French for breakfast by skipping food and playing the piano – her life-long ‘escape’. The picture shows Joan and Margaret off to Kingdene School, Worthing, with Aunt Agnes. The street photographer snapped them at the same spot on several occasions.

Joan returned to Darjeeling in late 1937 and studied piano at St Michael's and Mount Hermon obtaining a licentiate in piano as had her mother. This is a page from a schoolbook she had in 1938, showing the well-known view of Kanchenjunga (the eastern end of the Himalayas) as seen from Darjeeling.

Joan and her sister were next sent to live in Melbourne with their paternal uncle Frank Marsh as war-related problems seem to have appeared early in Darjeeling. Joan studied music at the University of Melbourne but as soon as she was 21 joined the Women's Australian Auxilary Air Force (WAAAF) and was included in the first group trained in RADAR. Her cousin Jeffrey Downing withdrew from medicine to join the RAAF. Margaret found work in the Government clothing factory. The picture shows Joan enjoying WAAAF life and getting to know other anti-monarchists.

After the war, Joan got a job at Myer in Melbourne where she worked at the complaints desk (being partially deaf, she was regarded as ideal for the role). She took a fancy to Noel, a young fellow in the furniture department. Noel's sister had a catering business and employed Joan to wash dishes while Noel helped with the cooking (also wise moves). Noel's concession to his future mother-in-law was to shave off his pencil moustache. The picture shows the pair with a picket fence at an unknown seaside location in about 1950.

Joan died on 24 December 1997 after suffering a form of leukaemia not uncommon to early RADAR operators. An adaption of my eulogy for her is at Joan's Treasures. She just missed seeing the long-overdue, and possibly inadequate, memorial to RADAR operators unveiled at the Australian War Memorial but had donated to its creation.

 

Darjeeling’s historic graves

Find A Grave allows anyone to search their online database and add pictures and information. 

Registered users can upload pictures of headstones, create new entries or suggest corrections to existing entries. The site is owned by Ancestry.com, but it is free to use.

Although it has been running since 1995, interest in Darjeeling is taking off. A number of entries have been made which makes it easy for the historically minded to take pictures of graves or add new information. You might find a virtual look-see interesting. 

Entries exist for the following cemeteries; 

• Darjeeling Old Cemetery, 
• Jalapahar New Cemetery, 
• Jalapahar Old Cemetery, 
• Lebong Cemetery,
• Loreto Convent Cemetery,
• Singtom Cemetery, 
• Hope Town Cemetery, Sonada,
• St Colomba's Cemetery, 
• St Joseph's College Cemetery, as well as 
• Kurseong Cemetery. 

Of course, more locations and people can be added.

If you live in the area, you may wish to take your camera for a peaceful look through a local historic graveyard. When taking pictures of graves please make sure inscriptions can be read - or make a note of them to submit with the picture. Sometimes a bit of water on the grave can make things easier to read. In some cases, you may need to pull out some weeds. Gently rubbing the headstone with dirt will often highlight the inscription and not cause any harm.

The tomb of General George W. Aylmer Lloyd overlooking Darjeeling.

General George W. Aylmer Lloyd obtained the deed of Darjeeling for the British from the King of Sikkim in 1835. He was in charge of the triangulation of the Himalayas for the Trigonometric Survey of India. His tomb is registered by the Archaeological Survey of India as monument number N-WB-60.

A screenshot of the page for General Lloyd.

While many graves date from the Raj it doesn’t mean all the people buried there are English. There are many Scots, Irish and Welsh and there are some locals and a number of non-British Europeans. Possibly the most famous non-Brit is Alexander Csoma De Koros the Romanian born author of the first Tibetan-English dictionary. He’s one of General Lloyd’s neighbours at the Darjeeling Old Cemetery. 

Also in the Old Cemetery is the grave of the not-so-well known Louis Mandelli an Italian tea planter and amateur zoologist and ornithologist - and possibly a political refugee.

Mandelli's memorial as seen from the road looking downwards.

The inscription on Mandelli's grave tells us something about the man and how well he was regarded.

SACRED

to the

memory of

LOUIS MANDELLI

FOR 17 YEARS

THE RESPECTED MANAGER OF

LEBONG AND MINCHEE TEA ESTATE

DARJEELING,

WHO DURING HIS RESIDENCE

IN THIS DISTRICT

GAINED FOR HIMSELF AN EUROPEAN

REPUTATION AS AN ORNITHOLOGIST.

HE DIED

ON THE 22ND FEBRUARY 1880,

AGED 48 YEARS.

--------------------------------

THIS MONUMENT IS ERECTED

BY SOME OF HIS NUMEROUS FRIENDS

IN INDIA

But what if you’re not in Darjeeling?

You can still take part in the effort if you have some pictures or if you’ve been searching for your Darjeeling connections and have information to add to the current listings. There are still many unknowns...

Let me know how you go!

Fred Marsh’s Indian war service

When I was a primary student in the 1960s, ‘Remembrance Day’ – or Armistice Day as mother called it – was the opportunity to wear family medals to school. As my parents didn’t have any medals, I wore my grandfather’s. These were different from most other medals at school: they were older and they were from India.

Fred Marsh's Indian medals.

Left to right; WWI service medal, King George VI Coronation Medal and

NMBR long service medal.

‘Grandpop’, Fred Marsh, had joined the Northern Bengal Mounted Rifles (NBMR) a week after World War I was declared. This was a civil militia unit and most of the members were tea planters like the 23-year-old Fred. However, for the War, the NBMR was ‘embodied’ into the Indian Army.

I did not think of asking what he did during the War. The only story he mentioned when I was a child was that he had some responsibility for provisioning troops including Australians and Englishmen. There was some anxiety to ensure that troops would be provisioned with either Vegemite or Marmite depending on their nationality. Neither wanted the other’s ‘national dish’ which each agreed was unpalatable. Americans, of course, would eat neither. 

Getting specific provisions was not easy, so Fred got what he could. An important factor in keeping all the troops happy was to remove any labels from the large tins in which such provisions arrived. This ensured that he could give the Aussies Vegemite and the Englishmen Marmite from the same container. 

I liked this story because it suggested he wasn’t involved in any fighting and had a bit of enterprise and humour.

A toothy Fred about the time he arrived in India in 1912

Recently I obtained a copy of memoirs written by a nephew of Fred’s, Bob Clark. Bob was born in Darjeeling to one of Fred’s sisters and the two developed a life-long friendship. His amazing book records three of Fred's NBMR experiences in World War I. I had never heard these stories before so I follow Bob's outline of them.

After Fred enlisted, he was trained as a cavalry officer at Jalpaiguri on the plains below Darjeeling. In February 1915 the still-single Fred spent his pre-embarkation leave with Bob’s family in Faridpur, now in Bangladesh but at that time in India’s East Bengal. 

Jalpaiguri Camp 1914

Bob’s father apparently took photographs of Fred in uniform, with five-year-old Bob by his side. Both stood strictly to attention with rifles by their side. At the end of his leave, Fred returned to Jalpaiguri expecting to be sent to a theatre of war. But on the final parade, he was told to report for 'special duties'. And then began an unusual military exercise.

The Panama Canal had been opened in August 1914, but problems had already developed. The Culebra Cut was silting up as the retaining walls were failing. It was decided to plant some water-loving growth as the best chance of holding the soil together. A species of bamboo which grew only in Sikkim – to the north of Darjeeling - was selected as the most suitable. 

This bamboo flowered only once in every twenty-five years, but botanists at Kew Gardens, London, had records which suggested it should have flowered recently. The seed would be mature for collection at the time that a hastily organised expedition could arrive. Fred, because of his knowledge of the local languages and managing people, was selected to guide the botanists, three thousand metres above sea level, in Sikkim. As predicted, they found seeds ready for collecting and these were eventually planted on the banks of the Canal.

When that commission was completed, Fred was posted to a Forestry Unit on the borders of Sikkim logging timber for the insatiable requirements of the war machine. He remained there until early 1917 when as a trained cavalry officer he was called to join a unit hastily collected to put down an uprising which began in Malabar on India’s south-west coast. These tensions had been simmering for decades and were presumably heightened during the War as poor Muslim residents of Mophla looked to the head of the Ottoman Empire as their spiritual leader. (Things would come to a head soon after the War.)

The unit which Fred was involved with consisted of five hundred Bengalis. However, they were not trained soldiers, they were labourers from the Kolkata jute mills supervised by a handful of trained officers, presumably including other militiamen. The troops travelled across India by train and then marched out to find the enemy. They met the enraged throng advancing and armed with long spears ‘ten thousand strong’, in Bob’s account which also places the confrontation in Pune. 

The Bengali troops had rifles, but they had no experience and little will to fight an angry army which outnumbered them. As the two forces faced each other, Fred considered that his last moments had probably come. The Army began to advance. Suddenly, without a shot fired, the horde turned and fled apparently in confusion.  

There must be much more to the story of course, though attempts to find details have so far not been successful. Indeed, at present, it has proven impossible to locate Fred’s war service record. There is a good chance it exists in the Indian archives along with those of hundreds of other ‘embodied’ militia members. The only way to know for sure is to visit. Any reader comments are very much welcomed!

While we are now becoming more aware that significant numbers of Indian soldiers were supporting Britain’s War efforts across the world in both World Wars, there is a largely untold story of Europeans who made their home in India supporting its defence efforts.

Fred was discharged from the Army shortly afterwards and returned to tea planting. Following Bob’s story, this would be about mid-1917. The year was busy for Fred as he married the boss’s daughter, Evelyn Bald, in December. Because of the many men who had not returned from the War, he was appointed, well below the normal age, as manager of the Singla tea garden. Bob visited Fred and Evelyn there for Easter 1918. 

Fred (right) with his new bride Evelyn and mother-in-law Margaret Bald at Singla c. 1918.

But what of the Vegemite / Marmite controversy?  Bob didn’t mention it.

There are a couple of good reasons for the silence. Firstly, Vegemite wasn’t invented until 1922 so it could not have been part of Fred’s World War I experience. Secondly, his memoir says nothing of World War II and at that time the two were living on different continents.

A couple of years before my grandfather died, I visited him with a friend who had a car… My friend raised World War II and asked my grandfather what he did in India. As I remember it, there was only one sentence on about an episode I had not heard before. The subject then changed.

‘Oh, we moved food supplies between India and Burma’, he said flatly.

Well, that fitted in with the Vegemite story. Later I wonder why he didn’t have any service medals for World War II. Unlike my parents, who neglected to get theirs, he would surely have made a point of getting his.

The answer to that question turns out to be simple. After World War I, the NBMR was reconstituted as a volunteer militia and Grandpop immediately joined up again. They continued their community service, occasional crowd control and regular annual training activities in Jalpaiguri until being disbanded in 1947. However, the militias did assist in the war effort even though they were not part of the Indian Army. The work of the Assam tea planters in the evacuation of Burma is reasonably well known, but the precise contribution of the NBMR remains unknown. The formal mechanism of engagement was through the Indian Tea Association and support would have been in the form of logistics and possibly repurposing tea garden labour for infrastructure projects. 

Along with the photo of the two young soldiers, there is more to be discovered…

Further Reading

A tale of two tea planters: Claud Bald and F G Marsh

Charles Ansell remembers his time in Darjeeling

In February 1925, Charles Ansell wrote an account of his life which is transcribed below. Charles and my great-grandfather Claud Bald were good friends and Charles’ son Arthur became friends with Claud’s son-in-law, my grandfather, Fred Marsh. Explanations in the text and are shown in [square brackets].

Leon J Lyell

Lieutenant-Colonel Charles Ansell

Charles William O'Brien Ansell’s memoir

I was born November 1846, at Poplar, London; attended local Schools and I joined the Blackwell Iron Works as an apprentice on 1st January 1861. My work started at 6 A.M. which involved my getting up at 5:20 for I walked to my work a good mile and half away and, as in the evenings, I attended evening classes, my days were pretty occupied. Later I joined Mr Thomas Hyde of Fenchurch Street where I picked up a good knowledge of Civil and Hydraulic Engineering, which was becoming prominent at that time owing to Sir William Armstrong. Afterwards, I was in charge of the machinery of "The Hercules", a dredger belonging to the Trinity Corporation of which the Duke of Edinburgh was Chairman of the Committee. 

When I joined the S. S. "Far East" for India. We came round the Cape and she was full up with passengers including my future wife [Ellen Mary Molloy, 1852-1923] who was returning from St. George's Convent Dublin accompanied by her mother and sister. This was an auxiliary screw steamer.  We left London 26th of April 1867 going round the Cape and stopping at Point-de-Galle [in Sri Lanka] and Madras [now Chennai]. We finally reached Calcutta [now Kolkata] on the 17th of September 1867. I have remained in this country ever since. The above steamer was chartered in Calcutta and the breaking out of the Abyssinian War (1867) and thus my engagement was broken; so I looked, for another berth and got a billet under Mr Thomas Watson, Superintending Engineer, Boradale Shiller & Co., as extra hand, but soon afterwards I was made 2nd Engineer. I went to Annesley Bay [in Eritrea]. The Chief Engineer committed himself by getting liquor which, he obtained easily on account of his position and giving same to some European Sergeants. These got drunk and misbehaved themselves. They were tried and heavily punished, while the Chief Engineer was court-marshalled and subsequently deported to Suez [in Egypt], and I was ordered to assume the duties of Chief Engineer by the Port Officer. On my return from Abyssinia [Ethiopia], I had to resume the grade of 2nd Engineer; another man being appointed first. 

At Calcutta, I got a shore job from Messrs Jessop, & Co. I was put in charge of their Garden Reach [a neighbourhood of the city of Kolkata] Branch. There were 2 European Boilermakers there at the time: Newman and Gallacher. I left there owing to the bad temper of one of the partners who abused me and with whom I quarrelled. About that time, I met Mr Watson who gave me back my old job. There was a new Chief Engineer named Todd who was said to drink a bottle-and-a-half or so of Exshaw's brandy per day. On the 9th of March 1869 on returning from Saugor, we anchored and the Chief gave an order that caused an accident and I was badly scalded. The next day at about 1 o'clock I was taken to General Hospital where I remained till the end of May. Meanwhile, a man named Thomas Udell I was appointed to carry on in my place, but they only succeeded in going as far as Achipure, when they burnt the port after boiler firebox; they returned to Calcutta and went under repairs. The new Engineers both got the sack. Captain Milner came to the Hospital the next day and told me all about it. Meanwhile a man named Hamilton was appointed. to carry on the repairs. While in hospital, I was permitted to go up for my examinations and passed, as Chief Engineer. My certificate being the 23rd for Bengal. The next day the owners sent me a letter appointing me Chief Engineer. At the end of May, I received my discharge from Hospital, and I took up my appointment to serve on the "Paris." Later I joined the "Alexandra". 

About that time, I learned that the Tukvar Co. were intending to adopt tea machinery of which there was very little in use. I applied and obtained the appointment 1st of October 1871 and so my connection with tea began. I left Calcutta with, my wife and 2 children on the 18th of December arriving in old Siliguri 1st January 1872, Kurseong on the 5th and Darjeeling (Tukvar) on the 11th. There I erected and worked the machinery and I might mention that I was put in charge of the cinchona plantation. In 1873 Mr Robert Graham, the Superintendent went home on leave, and during his absence, the factory was burnt down (January 11th 1873) but I rebuilt the factory and repaired the machinery in time to get to work for the season 1873. In 1874 it was decided to pull down the old factory and rebuilt a pucca [Indian word for 'good quality'] one. I rebuilt it to my own plan (with the old machinery) and it was the admiration of the whole district and the Company gave me a bonus of Rs. 500/- which was better than all the admiration. It had been arranged in my appointment that if I learned the work thoroughly, I should succeed Mr Graham. In 1875 Mr Graham was allowed to resign and I applied for the management, but in the meantime, the Directors had all been changed and the new ones thought Tukvar required an infusion of new blood as manager and they appointed Mr Thomas B. Curtis, but wrote to me that they had no wish to dispense with my services. I at once resigned because as I wrote and told them, they had broken faith with me. 

I then took up a billet as Engineer to Dr Brougham's [Tea] Estates, namely Dooteriah, Kaleg and Gazailidonbah [Guzlidubah] in the Dooars (of which Dick Haughton was the original Pioneer) and his Banstead property in Darjeeling. On my way to Gazilidonbah for water power, I met Mr & Mrs Pillans of Phoolparrie, [Phoolbarry] one of the Pioneers of the Dooars. While I was at Gazilidonbah, one of my Syces [man employed to look after horses] died with Malaria fever. I left with one Syce and two ponies and returned to Dooteriah. Malaria broke out in my Syce and myself. Mine lasted several months and the Syce's nearly two years. I remained in Dooteriah till May 1878 and intended becoming a planter altogether but machinery being introduced I was constantly asked to do Engineering here and there and so I eventually established an Engineering business which I called the "Darjeeling Engineering Works", and in 1880 I started the present business of "Ansell and Son" at Toong, now the property of my youngest son Arthur Molloy Ansell. 

Among other things I won the Gold Medal at the Calcutta Exhibition 1883-1884 and in 1886 I designed the hydraulic portion of the Darjeeling Electric light and most of the Water power of this district is due to me. I might mention that in 1872 I first tried drying tea without charcoal successfully. Sir Richard Temple, Lieutenant Governor of Bengal gave me two interviews at Government House in connection with this and at his Honour's request, I met Dr [Sir William] Schlich, Conservator of the Forests for Bengal. I patented the idea of the first endless tea drying machine in 1876. 

I have been a very keen volunteer. I served nearly 2 years in the Royal Naval Reserve at home, and out here I was an original member of the Darjeeling Volunteer Rifles in 1873 now called the North Bengal Mounted Rifles. I rose to the rank of Major. After nearly 43 years’ service, I was permitted to retire as Honorary Lieutenant Colonel, V. D [abbreviation for “Volunteer Officers' Decoration”], I hold the long service medal granted in Queen Victoria's time. The Volunteer Officers' Decoration of King Edward's time and the Delhi Durbar Jubilee medal of the present King's reign. During that long term of service, I never took leave of absence and was always found efficient at examinations. I am a first-class Magistrate of nearly 30 years’ service. I have always tried to do my duty to my country. 

The death of my dear and devoted wife, who after 53 years was taken from me was a great blow. She was a child in Lucknow right through the terrible [1857] siege, and she was returning to India from School at home when I met her. She was loved universally. Unfortunately, I have myself lately suffered a stroke which has left me partly paralysed, but I am slowly recovering. My life has been full of incidents and the foregone is only a summary of some of them. At a future date if possible, I shall try and write out some of the details. This has been written to dictation at the request of my old friend Mrs A. M. Lennox and many other kind friends. 

Just now I see the announcement (by cable) of the death of George Nash [1843-1924] of Mineral Springs and for many years’ manager at Soom [Tea Estate]. I met him unknowingly in 1871, the circumstances of which I will relate later. 

Since writing the above my old friend G. W. Christison [1837-1924 who was also at Tukvar] has passed away aged 86 and another dear old friend, Claud Bald [1853-1924] has been taken too. 

CW Ansell, V.D.
Toong, 1st February 1925


Charles Ansell died 25 May 1927 at Toong, Bengal, India, and is buried at the Pankhabari Road Cemetery, Kurseong, in what is now West Bengal, India. You can see his FindAGrave entry. As yet I don’t have a picture of his gravestone.

The Delhi Durbar of 1911, with King George V and Queen Mary seated on the dais.

Claud Bald’s well-travelled clock

A piece of good luck led me to an object once owned by Claud Bald (1853-1924), my great grandfather. He had carried from India to England and though discarded after his death, it now holds a new significance.

The item is a ‘carriage clock’, a small, spring-driven clock, designed for travelling. The genre was developed in the early nineteenth century France which manufactured thousands for export. Initially an expensive individually made item, their popularity increased and they were mass-produced and a simplified style was introduced for ‘English tastes.’

Claud Bald’s carriage clock. 

The clock is six inches (15 cms) high with the handle up. Its simplified style and ungilded brass indicate a mass-produced ‘bread and butter’ item. Several British manufacturers made these clocks and many were exported to India during the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. The peak year of production was 1889 for the Paris Exhibition and this one was made shortly before 1883.

The clock probably came in a leather carrying case, now lost, with an opening to show the clock face.

The clock, however, is special because of its unique inscription; ‘Presented by Lieut. A. B. L. Webb N.B.V.R. H. Coy. won by Claud Bald 1883’.

Claud Bald’s carriage clock inscription.

What happened to the clock after Claud died?

Until 2014, the clock was owned by ‘Pam’ in England who inherited it in the 1990s from her father who collected clocks as a hobby. Her father had found it in a second-hand shop in Worthing, cleaned it and found a winder to match the clock mechanism. Intrigued by the inscription and being a member of the Friends of Broadwater Cemetery in Worthing, Pam looked at the cemetery records and found ‘Claud Bald’ retired tea planter was interred in 1925.

However, ‘N.B.V.R.’ remained a mystery.

Pam posted notices on family history sites, which is how I eventually made contact. She and her sister offered the clock as a gift feeling that its place was with Claud’s family. I was able to confirm the meaning of the initials.

NBVR means…

‘NBVR’ refers to the Northern Bengal Volunteer Rifles who are believed to have been formed in 1873.

They became the Northern Bengal Mounted Rifles (NBMR) in 1889. Early records of the NBVR have not survived so details are not clear. Their first annual report was produced in 1882, apparently as part of a recruitment drive. Most original members were former soldiers and as they retired, remaining members realised that they needed to recruit men who did not have a military background.

Growing up in Glasgow, Claud Bald had no military background and may well have responded to a recruitment drive.

History of the unit

The Naval & Military Gazette and Weekly Chronicle of the United Services, Wednesday 19 September 1883, p. 238, says;

The second annual report of the Northern Bengal Volunteer Rifle Corps shows the total strength of that body to be 296 Volunteers and forty-five cadets—an increase of ninety-five on the previous year. At the annual inspection the inspecting officer expressed his great satisfaction with regard to the efficiency of the companies.

The numbering of later NBMR annual reports suggests that they took the first annual report of their militia to be the year of the first report of the NMVR.

By about 1914 most tea planters were expected to join and the majority did so.

What is clearer, is that the Corps was raised at the instigation of Mr A M Macdonald, Superintendent of the Darjeeling Tea Company and William Lloyd and A B L Webb (who presented the clock to Claud) of Lloyds Bank and E J Webb, Tea Planter.

Only five annual reports of the NBMR exist in three libraries (two in the UK and one in Japan).

Claud, the clock and the corps

The NBMR pattern was to hold annual ‘war games’ (as my mother called them) at which prizes were awarded for proficiency in skills such as shooting. Claud was probably awarded the clock in one such competition. He had been in India for about 5 years before 1883.

The designation ‘H. Coy’, short for H Company is at present unresolved. By 1914, H Company appears in the NBMR Annual Report as a Cadet Corps and would have been based at one of the district’s Schools. If it was a Cadet Corps in 1883, Claud would have been an officer.

The clock was for a long time the only evidence that Claud Bald joined the militia. He is not mentioned in the London Gazette as being awarded the ‘Volunteer Officers' Decoration’, so we can surmise that he remained a private. Though there is no record of the length of his service he may well have remained a member while his health allowed; he had a reputation for being healthy and ‘faithful’. In 1915 Claud and several other older planters were made honorary members of the NBMR. This seems to be a category of retired members who were not officers.

The following extract of a poem ‘Darjeeling’s Resplendent Transendency’, in Captain J A Keble, Darjeeling Ditties and Other Poems: A Souvenir, Darjeeling (1908), p. 8 reads;

‘Mr Claud Bald of Tukvar. 

Healthy, trusty, popular,

Noted Planter, faithful sealed,

Worker in the Master’s field!’

Some photographic evidence...

The picture marked ‘Tukvar Tea Estate 1914’ (below) is another treasure. The assumption that the troops were NBMR was confirmed by comparing the picture with a group photo of the 1914 Annual Report where people can be identified in both pictures.

The ‘visitors’ presence seems to imply that Claud had maintained a long connection with the Corps, though the occasion is not known.

Tukvar Tea Estate 1914. Claud Bald (with beard) with family and NBMR friends. 

The three seated officers in the above photo also appear below.

Officers in the NBMR at Jalpaiguri, from the 33rd Annual Report 1913-1914. 

The clock moves from India to England and then to Australia

Claud brought the clock with him to England in 1919 after he retired. It was significant to him. However, it seems to have been disposed of by the family, perhaps because it held no strong sentimental value to others.

But the clock has now shared its story, travelled halfway around the world again, after Pam kindly presented it to me in Worthing, and is treasured once more.

The NMBR crest and motto. 

'Fideliter', means 'faithfully' or, by implication, 'with reliance on God'. It also turns out to be an apt word to associate with Claud Bald, who was dedicated to his profession and a regular supporter of Baptist missionaries and the Union Church in Darjeeling.

Where are the annual reports?

The NBVR and all but five of the NBMR annual reports seem to have been lost. Do you know the whereabouts of any Please let me know! 

Read some more on Claud and his son-in-law at A tale of two tea planters.

Utopia is a dangerous ideal: should we aim for ‘protopia’?

by Michael Shermer

Utopias are idealised visions of a perfect society. Utopianisms are those ideas put into practice. 

This is where the trouble begins.

Thomas More coined the neologism utopia for his 1516 work that launched the modern genre for a good reason. The word means ‘no place’ because when imperfect humans attempt perfectibility – personal, political, economic and social – they fail. Thus, the dark mirror of utopias are dystopias – failed social experiments, repressive political regimes, and overbearing economic systems that result from utopian dreams put into practice.  

The belief that humans are perfectible leads, inevitably, to mistakes when ‘a perfect society’ is designed for an imperfect species. There is no best way to live because there is so much variation in how people want to live. Therefore, there is no best society, only multiple variations on a handful of themes as dictated by our nature.

Sir Thomas More, statesman,
by Hans Holbein via Wikipedia.

For example, utopias are especially vulnerable when a social theory based on collective ownership, communal work, authoritarian rule and a command-and-control economy collides with our natural-born desire for autonomy, individual freedom and choice. Moreover, the natural differences in ability, interests and preferences within any group of people leads to inequalities of outcomes and imperfect living and working conditions that utopias committed to equality of outcome cannot tolerate. 

As one of the original citizens of Robert Owen’s 19th-century New Harmony community in Indiana explained it:

We had tried every conceivable form of organisation and government. We had a world in miniature. We had enacted the French revolution over again with despairing hearts instead of corpses as a result. … It appeared that it was nature’s own inherent law of diversity that had conquered us … our ‘united interests’ were directly at war with the individualities of persons and circumstances and the instinct of self-preservation.

Most of these 19th-century utopian experiments were relatively harmless because, without large numbers of members, they lacked political and economic power. But add those factors, and utopian dreamers can turn into dystopian murderers. People act on their beliefs, and if you believe that the only thing preventing you and/or your family, clan, tribe, race or religion from going to heaven (or achieving heaven on Earth) is someone else or some other group, then actions know no bounds. From homicide to genocide, the murder of others in the name of some religious or ideological belief accounts for the high body counts in history’s conflicts, from the Crusades, Inquisition, witch crazes and religious wars of centuries gone to the religious cults, world wars, pogroms and genocides of the past century.

We can see that calculus behind the utopian logic in the now famous ‘trolley problem’ in which most people say they would be willing to kill one person in order to save five. Here’s the set-up: you are standing next to a fork in a railroad line with a switch to divert a trolley car that is about to kill five workers on the track. If you pull the switch, it will divert the trolley down a side track where it will kill one worker. If you do nothing, the trolley kills the five. What would you do? Most people say that they would pull the switch. If even people in Western enlightened countries today agree that it is morally permissible to kill one person to save five, imagine how easy it is to convince people living in autocratic states with utopian aspirations to kill 1,000 to save 5,000, or to exterminate 1,000,000 so that 5,000,000 might prosper. What’s a few zeros when we’re talking about infinite happiness and eternal bliss?

The fatal flaw in utilitarian utopianism is found in another thought experiment: you are a healthy bystander in a hospital waiting room in which an ER physician has five patients dying from different conditions, all of which can be saved by sacrificing you and harvesting your organs. Would anyone want to live in a society in which they might be that innocent bystander? Of course not, which is why any doctor who attempted such an atrocity would be tried and convicted for murder.

Yet this is precisely what happened with the grand 20th-century experiments in utopian socialist ideologies as manifested in Marxist/Leninist/Stalinist Russia (1917-1989), Fascist Italy (1922-1943) and Nazi Germany (1933-1945), all large-scale attempts to achieve political, economic, social (and even racial) perfection, resulting in tens of millions of people murdered by their own states or killed in conflict with other states perceived to be blocking the road to paradise. The Marxist theorist and revolutionary Leon Trotsky expressed the utopian vision in a 1924 pamphlet:

The human species, the coagulated Homo sapiens, will once more enter into a state of radical transformation, and, in his own hands, will become an object of the most complicated methods of artificial selection and psychophysical training. … The average human type will rise to the heights of an Aristotle, a Goethe, or a Marx. And above this ridge new peaks will rise.

This unrealisable goal led to such bizarre experiments as those conducted by Ilya Ivanov, whom Stalin tasked in the 1920s with crossbreeding humans and apes in order to create ‘a new invincible human being’. When Ivanov failed to produce the man-ape hybrid, Stalin had him arrested, imprisoned, and exiled to Kazakhstan. As for Trotsky, once he gained power as one of the first seven members of the founding Soviet Politburo, he established concentration camps for those who refused to join in this grand utopian experiment, ultimately leading to the gulag archipelago that killed millions of Russian citizens who were also believed to be standing in the way of the imagined utopian paradise to come. When his own theory of Trotskyism opposed that of Stalinism, the dictator had Trotsky assassinated in Mexico in 1940. Sic semper tyrannis.

In the second half of the 20th century, revolutionary Marxism in Cambodia, North Korea and numerous states in South America and Africa led to murders, pogroms, genocides, ethnic cleansings, revolutions, civil wars and state-sponsored conflicts, all in the name of establishing a heaven on Earth that required the elimination of recalcitrant dissenters. All told, some 94 million people died at the hands of revolutionary Marxists and utopian communists in Russia, China, North Korea and other states, a staggering number compared with the 28 million killed by the fascists. When you have to murder people by the tens of millions to achieve your utopian dream, you have instantiated only a dystopian nightmare.

The utopian quest for perfect happiness was exposed as the flawed goal that it is by George Orwell in his 1940 review of Mein Kampf:

Hitler … has grasped the falsity of the hedonistic attitude to life. Nearly all western thought since the last war, certainly all ‘progressive’ thought, has assumed tacitly that human beings desire nothing beyond ease, security and avoidance of pain. … [Hitler] knows that human beings don’t only want comfort, safety, short working-hours, hygiene, birth-control and, in general, common sense; they also, at least intermittently, want struggle and self-sacrifice …

On the broader appeal of Fascism and Socialism, Orwell added:

Whereas Socialism, and even capitalism in a more grudging way, have said to people ‘I offer you a good time,’ Hitler has said to them ‘I offer you struggle, danger, and death,’ and as a result a whole nation flings itself at his feet. … we ought not to underrate its emotional appeal.

What, then, should replace the idea of utopia? One answer can be found in another neologism – protopia – incremental progress in steps toward improvement, not perfection. As the futurist Kevin Kelly describes his coinage:

Protopia is a state that is better today than yesterday, although it might be only a little better. Protopia is much much harder to visualise. Because a protopia contains as many new problems as new benefits, this complex interaction of working and broken is very hard to predict.

In my book The Moral Arc (2015), I showed how protopian progress best describes the monumental moral achievements of the past several centuries: the attenuation of war, the abolishment of slavery, the end of torture and the death penalty, universal suffrage, liberal democracy, civil rights and liberties, same-sex marriage and animal rights. These are all examples of protopian progress in the sense that they happened one small step at a time.

A protopian future is not only practical, it is realisable.

This essay is based on Heavens on Earth: The Scientific Search for the Afterlife, Immortality, and Utopia, published by the author in 2018.

This article was originally published at Aeon and has been republished under Creative Commons.