Ward
The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in Kaffirland
This division left Graham’s Town on the 29th of May, the day after the engagement at Peddie, but before any intelligence of it had been received. On the 30th, at midnight, we heard the 7th Dragoon Guards gathering under our windows, in Graham’s Town, previously to starting to make their demonstration; and on Sunday, the 31st of May, Sir Peregrine Maitland, with a small escort, proceeded to a tower about ten miles from town, from which he observed Colonel Somerset bivouacked. It was not known till the next day that Colonel Somerset had encountered the enemy. No news was received from him, till he could add that he had passed the bush, and was within sight of Peddie.
Never happy in idleness when there was an enemy at hand, Colonel Somerset only remained long enough to Peddie to refresh his men and horses, and then again moved into the bush. Well acquainted with the disposition, habits, and superstitions of the Kaffirs, Colonel Somerset is the kind of foe they most dread; brave, hardy, active, and high-spirited, he is just the man to lead the hardy Cape Corps against such barbarians. And now, again, he was soon upon some of the stragglers who had attacked Fort Peddie on the 28th of May. They had assembled “to breakfast,” in a kloof, thickly wooded; but on one green spot, lit by the sun, there was gathered a tolerable array of them, little dreaming that am enemy as wary as themselves was at hand. The green and sunlit spot was soon darkened by the smoke of British artillery, and the kloof and mountains gave back the thundering echoes to the astonished ears of the savages. Such as escaped death slipped through the bush, and along the wooded ravines, to warn their friends of danger.
Colonel Somerset then moved with his division to a place where wood and water offered the means of a pleasant bivouac, and the troops were about to open their haversacks and turn their horses, knee-haltered, out to grass, when Lieutenant Bisset, Cape Mounted Rifles, who had gone out with Lieutenant Armstrong, of the same corps, to reconnoitre (the latter having observed a few Kaffirs skulking near the bush, and surmised that more were in the neighbourhood), rode back with the intelligence that, his horse having carried him up the slope of a hill, he had found himself just above a body of about six hundred Kaffirs. These savages, having had a long march, were halting on their way, preparatory, perhaps, to attacking the waggons, which they did not know had passed through Commatjes Bush; or, it may be, they had been stayed in their progress by the sound of the shells thrown into the kloof, to rout the “breakfast-party,” two hours before. There they were, however, a regular “clump of Kaffirs.” Down the slope flew the fiery steed, which could only be guided, not stopped, in its career, and right past the dark mass was borne the rider, while they, bewildered at the unexpected sight of the “wild horseman” in that sequestered valley, never moved, but gazed in silence at him as he sped past them. “Wearing round,” in sailor’s phrase, his impetuous and hard-mouthed horse, he managed to bring it up at the halting-place of the division, where he reported the near proximity of the enemy to Colonel Somerset, who, lifting has cap from his head, gave three hearty cheers and shouted to Major Gibsone (7th Dragoon Guards), “Return carbines, draw swords, and charge!”
“Hurrah!” was echoed back; and on they dashed, Dragoons, Cape Corps, Burghers, Hottentots, and Fingoes. They found the enemy up and in position; but they had never intended to be caught in an open plain. They had never before had an opportunity of judging fairly of a charge of English cavalry. Such a mêlée. The cavalry dashed through the phalanx of Kaffirs, and, for want of more cavalry to support them, dashed back again. A Hottentot soldier, one of the Sturdy Cape Corps, having two horses given him to take care of, charged unarmed, save his sword, and with a horse in each hand! There was great slaughter among the enemy. Captain Walpole, R.E., who had gone out as an amateur, was severely wounded in two places; Sir Harry Darell was again wounded, but not severely, with an assegai, as was also Lieutenant Bunbury, 7th Dragoon Guards. Such Kaffirs as could not escape fell down exhausted, and cried for mercy: there was a great deal of cunning in this,—they would have stabbed any one who approached near enough to them to offer a kind word. They had all had enough, however, of meeting a combined force of cavalry and Cape Corps, and no doubt the latter tried to surpass themselves. Those gallant little “Totties” are an untiring, determined band. How little do we know in England of the smartness and courage of the Hottentot!
So excited were the troops by this victory over the enemy—more than two hundred savages being killed, and an immense number carried off wounded—that they galloped back to Fort Peddie with the news, and without refreshing themselves or their horses. Had the enemy been a few minutes earlier in leaving their bivouac, or had the troops been a few minutes later in reaching theirs, the parties would never have met. Only one man fell on our side, a Cape Corps soldier, who had often been reproved for his rashness.
This action on the Qwanga served to damp the ardour of the Kaffirs for some time. They bore off their wounded and dying to the kloofs, where they had established hospitals in the clefts of rocks, or under bush, screened by karosses and sheepskins, and mourned the death of many a chieftain’s son, captain, or councillor. The superior chiefs themselves seldom fall, and no paramount chief is expected to lead his men to action. In the attack on the Mancazana, Macomo, Sandilla’s uncle, beat his warriors to the advance with his knob-kiurries; and then, seating himself on a hill, waited the result of the attack and the capture of the cattle.
While these operations were going on “across the border,” the Boers began to show their teeth on the other side of the Orange River, and the Griquas, in alarm, moved towards Philippolis, a mission station, with their families and cattle. The Boers had resolved on taking advantage of the times to recover the cattle and sheep which the Government had given to the Griquas, in compensation for their losses in their war with the Boers, in which we had assisted them. These were the Boers who had deserted the Colony and tracked over the Orange River ten years before. It is irrelevant, however, to my present purpose to touch upon the Dutch question; nevertheless, it may be remarked that we had great occasion to regret this disaffection. Captain Warden, (formerly of the Cape Corps), the representative of Government at the Modda River, soon settled the question, in a spirited and judicious manner. Six rebel Boers were taken prisoners, and sent to await their trial in gaol.
The Burghers continued to move up from all quarters. I watched one body on their entrance into Graham’s Town, and saw them winding through the streets; the cavalcade of horsemen alone must have been at least a mile in length. Strong, hardy, daring fellows they looked, too; but there was something very melancholy in the thought, that they had left their homes and families to meet a ruthless and savage foe, whom they had in no wise injured, or treated otherwise than with humanity and patience. How many might never return! I turned sorrowfully away, as this thought passed through my mind.
Still the Colony was overrun with Kaffirs. As fast as they were put down in one place, they started up in another. The mails could not pass in safety, the enemy sometimes waylaying them, murdering the post riders, and destroying the letter-bags, or stealing the relay horses from the mail contractors. The inhabitants of the different districts received the most garbled statements of affairs, and discontent prevailed in all directions at the delay in the warfare; a delay entirely unavoidable, and as ruinous to the Government as to the colonists.
In spite of some attempts to foster enmity between the military and burgher forces, it was pleasant to observe the manner in which the fighting men worked together; and I therefore give the substance of a dispatch from a Burgher officer, which was published by order of the Commander-in-Chief, and was dated—
“Trumpeter’s Post, 24th June, 1846.
“Sir,
“I have the honour to report to you that, in compliance with your orders, I left this on the 22nd instant, at four o’clock, a.m., taking with me 240 men of the Provisional Infantry, and 120 Fingoes, under Captain Symonds, for the purpose of scouring the kloofs on the left bank of the Fish River. At seven o’clock the same day, we came upon the enemy, whose spoor (trail) we had followed up from the Fish River drift. Sending a flanking party down each side, under Captain De Toit and Captain Symonds, I proceeded down the Gwanga Kloof. Scarcely had we entered, when we heard the enemy talking distinctly about fifteen paces in advance of us. We immediately rushed up, and found that their fires, ninety-three in number, had been deserted a few moments before we came up, and that cattle had also been driven past. We soon after fell in with the enemy, who, being fired at, fled in all directions, leaving their cattle behind them. We captured them, 120 in number, with four horses, and went back up another kloof, where we found the enemy in strong force hid behind rocks hanging over our heads, opening their musketry on us. The fire was returned briskly by our men, who faced the enemy with much coolness. By this time, Captain De Toit had joined us, having had a brush in another kloof. The skirmish lasted for three hours. One Kaffir, I supposed to be a chief, was seated on a hill, directing the movements of the enemy, telling them to surround us and take the cattle back.
“After we came out of the kloof, the Kaffirs tried all they could to cut us off, waylaying us in every ravine, and firing long shots at us. They followed us up within five miles of Fort Peddie, when they gradually retreated, with the loss of six men. No casualties on our side. I suppose the enemy to be about a thousand strong. I beg leave to state that I think it impossible to drive the enemy out of the kloof alluded to, and those immediately beyond it, without a very strong force of infantry and a piece of artillery. I beg to bring to your notice the conduct of Lieutenant Lange, who on all occasions when we have met the enemy has particularly distinguished himself.
“I have the honour to be, etc,
“Thos. J. Melville.
“To Commandant Size.”
On receiving this dispatch, the Commander-in-chief caused the kloofs in question to be scoured, and it was found that the enemy had abandoned their strongholds in that quarter. This was only for a time. A troop of dragoons was ordered out six weeks after to clear the “Clay Pits,” near Trumpeter’s. The name is derived from the red clay which is found in the neighbourhood by the Kaffirs, who paint their bodies with it. It is, however, an unseemly name for the spot, which I know well. It is quite a fairy place, with a tiny valley of emerald green, and a crystal spring, flanked on three sides by steep rocks clothed with thick bush, and the stately euphorbia tree. There the conies have their dwelling-places; there the large starry jessamine of the Cape scents the air, and contrasts its graceful wreaths with the deep green foliage of the shrubs; there the wild convolvulus forms its own bright bowers, intermingled with the ivy geranium; and there the chandelier plant waves its bells near the clear spring where the lions come down to drink in the deep twilight so peculiar to South Africa. There the baboons shout to each other from rock to rock; and there, through the gay plants that enamel the turf, winds the glittering and fatal snake. There the pretty lizards—“the friend of man,” as they are called by those who assert that they warn the sleeping traveller of the serpent’s approach,—creep about in the sunshine; and there—ah! there we made one day a pleasant resting-place on a journey. We were very merry, then, and the valley rang with laughter and with song, as we tried the echoes. And now the savage lurked there, like the lion lurking for his prey. I remember that the day we did rest there, when I expressed myself enchanted with the spot, some one said, in an indifferent voice, “This is where poor – was killed in the last war; and where the waggon was stopped, and the poor creatures with it were murdered!”
It was now found necessary, in consequence of the dense bush near Trumpeter’s being full of Kaffirs, to open a communication between Graham’s Town and Fort Peddie, by a route near the sea. The marines, sailors, and a party of sappers were therefore sent thither to form a raft for the conveyance of some expected supplies for the troops across the Great Fish River, near the mouth.
Sir Peregrine Maitland, with a very moderate escort, made his way through the bush, and established his head-quarters at Peddie for a few days; but on the 23rd of June, he took the field, and encamped with a large body of troops, part of the 7th, 90th, 91st, Cape Mounted Rifles, Burghers, Hottentots, and Fingoes, at the mouth of the Fish River; and, in compliment to the Admiral of the Cape Station, the locality was named Fort Dacres.
On the 26th, an express arrived from the Admiral, recalling the sailors and marines to rejoin the “President,” under orders for the Mauritius, and probably Madagascar. Their removal, at this moment, was much to be regretted; British energy, patience, courage, and perseverance, however, surmounted difficulties hitherto unconsidered, and the “Waterloo,” with her cargo, was soon anxiously looked for. Supplies, too, reached the troops, who were occasionally without any food but meat for days, and even that was scarce and bad. A shilling was once offered for a glass of fresh water, without success, and two shillings and six pence for a biscuit! At Fort Peddie, too, they were in a miserable plight, the horses almost starving. No comforts whatever for the men, some of them being badly off for clothing, of the arrival of which they had been disappointed by the destruction of the baggage-waggons near Trumpeter’s, in May. By the way, some days after the attack on Fort Peddie, Páto’s people brought some of the store-waggons to the hill, in sight of the garrison, and set fire to them, in order to decoy the troops from the buildings; but without success.
A discovery was made near the Fish River mouth, by some soldiers, of a leaf which they substituted for tea; but the water, from being so near the sea, was very brackish and unwholesome, and thus no good judgment could be formed of the quality of the substitute. Some Boers arriving at Fort Dacres, having never seen the sea, rushed down to it in amazement at the “Groete Vley” (Big River), and, stooping down to drink, were much disappointed at finding it “brack” (salt).
Difficulties of various kinds now beset the path of the Commander-in-chief. The enemy had stolen most of the colonial cattle, and what was left was in such a wretched state, from fatigue and bad pasturage, that, independently of present hunger, the trek oxen could make but very little way. On the 6th, Major Yarborough, 91st, in command of the regular infantry, consisting of about 120 of the 91st, and part of the 90th, made his first march from the Fish River mouth, along the sea-shore, to the mouth of the Beka: here they encamped the first night, and had a taste of the rough service in which they were engaged. The waggons did not reach them till morning, so that they had but slight provision, and no tents. However, they made the best of it, and, rolling themselves up in such cloaks and karosses as they could muster, lay down by the fires to sleep. Those who had saddles made pillows of them,—and a saddle makes no bad resting-place for a weary head, as I can testify from experience. On the 10th, all was bustle again; tents were struck, and a hasty meal was made of tough beef and ration biscuit, hard and mouldy most likely, and the division again moved on at five o’clock in the afternoon.
After sleeping five nights in the open air—in consequence of the waggons with the tents being in the rear, from the state of the oxen—they reached the Buffalo River. During this march, they experienced much discomfort from bad weather, as well as want of provisions. On one occasion, they could not see their way for twelve hours, and were obliged to stand under a heavy rain, the ground being so saturated with wet that they could not lie down. For four days, the men never tasted meat, and the officers had only such provisions as their horses could carry. The poor Fingoes were reduced to eating their shields of bullock-hides, and the Hottentots tightened their girdles of famine. Fortunately, Captain Melville’s Hottentot Burghers overtook some Kaffir women, from whom they captured three hundred cows,—a great god-send to a starving army, for a long march was before them, the Kaffirs having gone as far as the Kei. The General, who shared the privations and sufferings of the troops under his command, determined to follow them up, but for a time the division halted till the waggons came up with comforts, in the shape of coffee, biscuits, sugar, rice, etc; and at the same time vessels continued to arrive at the Fish River mouth, whence stores could be forwarded, though literally at a “snail’s pace,” to the troops in front.
On the 17th of July, Colonel Somerset, with three days’ provision, headed a large force of 1,600 cavalry and infantry, the latter provisional forces, which were to recapture the stolen cattle from Páto; it will be seen with what success. From the state of the trek oxen, it was quite impossible for the regular infantry to follow in support of Colonel Somerset’s division; they therefore proceeded to the Debe flats, viâ King William’s Town, headed by the untiring and brave General Maitland, on their way to the Amatolas, to intercept the Gaikas. The poor oxen could scarcely crawl, many of them dropping dead on the way. The Cape ox is certainly the most patient and gentle creature of its kind. And now the last issue of meat was again made, and sad prospects were before the troops on their way from the sea, whence other supplies alone could be looked for. Happily, a few straggling sheep were afterwards captured: and thus fed from day to day, in the wilderness, by Providence, the troops moved forty miles in ten days. On the 21st of July, they encamped four miles from King William’s Town, where in the war of 1834-5, Sir Harry Smith, the present Governor of the Cape, met the Kaffir chiefs.
On reaching the spot where the troops were to encamp, on the other side of King William’s Town, through which they had passed—finding it ransacked by the Kaffirs—they were unpleasantly surprised by the return of twenty empty waggons, which had left them two days before for the Fish River mouth, with an escort of one hundred Burghers, who had fired away all their ammunition and retired, having one man wounded, and losing six oxen. The Kaffirs informed them, as they set fire to one of the rear waggons, that “unless we made peace with them, they would stop all our convoys.”
Colonel Johnstone, 27th Regiment, who had left Graham’s Town on the 8th of July, for the Fish River mouth, where he was relieved by the second division of the 90th, joined the General’s Camp on the 26th of the same month, bringing with him some welcome and long-looked-for supplies.
While thus encamped, a Kaffir woman, pretending to be the sister of the Chief, Umhala, made her way to the Governor to sue for peace, asserting that Umhala was “sitting still.” Many such messages had been sent, but were quite unworthy of obtaining a hearing. The Kaffirs having driven their booty across the Kei, were of course anxious for peace, and Sandilla had the cool impudence to send four ambassadresses to the Lieutenant-Governor at Fort Beaufort, to ask “why we had made war upon him,” and to request permission to “plant his corn!” After the affair at Fort Peddie, Stock, an I’Slambie chief, sent messengers to complain of our attacks on him, when he, too, was “sitting still,” and only wished to be allowed to “watch his father Eno’s grave!” Very pathetic indeed! Stock was no doubt “sitting still” beside “his father’s grave,” but his people were at work, plundering, burning, murdering, torturing and mutilating the troops and colonists, while he “sat still,” and approved. He should have protected that sacred spot, and kept the neighbourhood of Fort Peddie clear of marauders. When his father died, after the commencement of the war, he was buried decently; the military at Fort Peddie witnessing the funeral, and receiving the promises of fidelity which Stock offered. But, in spite of these promises, in spite of the Kaffir law that “no tribe shall engage in war for twelve moons after the death of its chief,” Stock’s people were among the first who made their ruthless way through the helpless Colony with brand and assegai!
The chief, Umki, took refuge at Peddie, at the commencement of hostilities, leaving his people, or rather permitting his people to surrender at will. He was received at Graham’s Town, where, with his wives and ragged retinue, he was provided with “board and lodging” at the expense of Government. There is no faith to be placed in any chief but the Christian, Kama, who, with the remnant of his people, took an active part in the defence of the Winterberg district, thirty miles from Fort Beaufort. Kama proved himself true to his religion, to us, and to himself, in every way sacrificing worldly distinctions and property, and, as I have before remarked, putting his life in jeopardy by the deadly offence he gave the Tambookies in refusing a second wife from that royal race. Yet I have never heard the voice of public philanthropy raised in favour of Kama.
