The death of Sir Henry Rider Haggard occurred on May 14th 1925, one hundred years ago today.
I was addicted to his novels throughout much of my childhood, so I decided to mark the occasion with a few words in recognition of the huge amounts of enjoyment – and the education - that they gave me.
I remember my introduction to Rider Haggard's romantic and exciting adventure stories very clearly. King Solomon's Mines and its sequel Allan Quatermain were published in strip form in a children's comic that I used to buy each week; there were strings of colourful pictures, each with a block of text underneath.
I enjoyed my first encounter with these fascinating stories very much. I remember finding Captain Good's white legs in King Solomon's Mines very amusing, but the portrayals of the old witch Gagool in the same story and the attack by giant intelligent crabs in Allan Quatermain were rather scary!
Not exactly the same, but fairly similar to what I read in the comic:
I soon graduated from the simplified and condensed adaptions to the complete versions of Rider Haggard's two adventure stories: books from the public library intensified the addiction that the comic strips had started. I also discovered several more of his novels that were just as enjoyable as the first two.
A major problem was that my library stocked only the most popular novels; it was very frustrating to see the long list of Rider Haggard's other works on the 'By the same Author' page in the books and be unable to read any of them!
As mentioned in one of the many articles about public libraries, soon after my family moved to London I joined a very good local library; the new school I went to had a library with a stock of good books too. Even so, there were still many unread Rider Haggard books that I wished and wished I could get hold of.
Fate soon took a hand. I did say a little about this in the above-mentioned article, but I didn't give some key information.
I used to pass another public library on my way to and from school, and one day I felt a strong impulse to go in and join them. When they asked me if I was a member of any other library, I said that I was not. This was a big lie! In those days of course they had no way of checking my membership, so I got away with it.
After I had made a few visits to the new library, one of the librarians suddenly and unexpectedly told me that there was a storage area in the basement and I could go there and borrow whatever I liked. This seemed like a very good offer; I was eager to see what they had down there.
When I went down the stairs into the stockroom for the very first time, the very first thing I saw was a long shelf full of Rider Haggard's novels! They were mostly old books; they didn't have the colourful jackets with transparent protective covers of the Macdonald editions I was accustomed to borrowing.
I couldn't believe my 'luck' in getting almost all of Rider Haggard's remaining works on a plate. I read my way through the collection book by book, ticking each one off my list. I re-read the ones that I liked best.
I remember that on one occasion I saw a title that I didn't recognise; I grabbed the book and rushed home expecting to read an exciting new adventure story, only to find that the book was written by someone called William Haggard. I was so disappointed that I wanted to throw it across the room!
There is more to come about Sir Henry Rider Haggard and his works.
The man and one of the many editions of his best-known novel:
