The chief, Umki, who had been received under the protection of the English, at Fort Peddie, had frequently warned them of projected attacks by his brother chiefs, but as frequently, when these warnings were given, and the troops kept on the alert within the range of the post, parties with waggons, or expresses, were arrested in their progress in some other direction. Umki was more than once suspected of raising false reports at Fort Peddie, with a view to keep the troops at home. His words, however, were verified on the 28th of May, 1846, when the I’Slambie and Congo warriors had assembled, in a body of nine thousand, on the plains below the eminence on which the garrison and other buildings stand. On the previous day, some spies had brought Colonel Lindsay information that the Kaffirs were in the neighbourhood, in straggling parties. At this intelligence, Colonel Lindsay ordered out Sir Harry Darell’s troop of the 7th Dragoon Guards, fourteen of the Cape Mounted Riflemen, and a light 6-pounder, to patrol the hills and protect the cattle. An hour afterwards, on hearing the gun at work about two miles off, a hundred infantry were sent out, under the command of Major Yarborough, to support the gun and cavalry. This party met the gun retiring disabled, a wheeler being shot. The cavalry were found in extended order, engaged with the enemy near a dense bush. The infantry advanced in extended order, firing. It was on this occasion that Major Yarborough, ordered them to feign a retreat, as I have already mentioned, in order to draw the enemy into an open space; this ruse succeeded, and Sir Harry Darell, who had retired behind the infantry and closed, had an opportunity of charging with his troop, and sabred fifteen or twenty before they could get into the bush. Then the infantry advanced, and again feigned to retire, and the enemy came out a little way, keeping up a brisk fire, though at a long range. The 91st then halted, and ceased firing, waiting for the enemy to come on; but they did not do so, and, night advancing, the troops retired to quarters; Sir Harry Darell, and Mr Gore, 7th, returned with their hands imbued in Kaffir blood, and their swords bent and broken. The number of the enemy was estimated at eight hundred, or a thousand. More than forty were killed and wounded in the skirmish and charge, besides those who fell by the shells thrown into the kloof before the infantry came up. The casualties on our side were slight. The troop Serjeant-Major of the 7th was wounded, and the charger Sir Harry rode; some other horses were also killed and wounded. The skirmishing of the enemy was perfect, hiding themselves, and advancing and retiring behind the smallest ant-heaps and stones. With the infantry were a hundred of the Fort Peddie Fingoes, who assisted the troops, and worked bravely with them. Thus, about one hundred and fifty of our own troops, with a hundred Fingoes, succeeded in driving eight hundred or a thousand Kaffirs from their position, killing and wounding at least fifty!
This check, though, was only for the night,—this advance by the enemy towards the post, only the prelude of the morrow, the morning of which presented the awful spectacle of the gathering of the tribes on the hills around the open plain on which the buildings of Fort Peddie stand in somewhat scattered order. From my long residence there I know the place well; a solitary tree is the only thing of the land on which the eye rests in looking from the green plain forming the parade-ground of the garrison. All around are open, undulating plains, studded with ant-heaps, and cultivated here and there by the poor Fingoes, with Indian and Kaffir corn and pumpkin vines. These vast and almost desolate plains are bounded by steep ascents, and here and there a dark shadow in the landscape indicates the entrance of a kloof. It was here I once witnessed the gathering of the Fingoes from those hills, to a war-dance. Their wild war-cry issued from their kraals, and then, coming forth, they united in phalanx and advanced, with their triumphant chant. Such a gathering as this is a savage sight. As they approach an imaginary enemy, they shout and yell, then form circles, while some stern old warrior goes round with his war-club as if striking down the strangling bodies of the wounded and dying foe; then, extending themselves in skirmishing order, they again advance, assegai in hand, while, with shrill and exciting cries, and beating their shields, their leaders spring and leap with the activity of the tiger.
When I witnessed this wild exhibition, the Fingoes became so much excited with the semblance of a fight, that they threw their assegais from them, as though in earnest; so much so, that the Resident Agent, Mr Shepstone, who knew their habits and dispositions well, warned the soldiers, who were looking on, from the front. I was inclined to run myself; but Mr Shepstone assuring me that they would not do our own party any harm on purpose, but that he could not answer for the effect of a stray assegai, if we moved, we were fain to stand still amid a shower of spears; and, as one passed near me, there was a shout on seeing I stood my ground.
Imagine the approach of nine thousand savage enemies; all in earnest, towards the little garrison of Fort Peddie! It must have been an appalling sight. An eye-witness, and credible person, has published the following description in a frontier paper. I extract it, being sure of its truth, as it coincides exactly with the accounts I have read and received from officers present during the engagement. I have chosen this one as the most graphic:—
“I am afraid,” says the writer, “I can give you no description of the attack itself. Were it not that life and death were concerned in it, I should have pronounced it a most beautiful sight. The Kaffir commanders sent their aides-de-camp from one party to another, just as you would see it done on a field-day with European troops. The main bodies were continually increasing with horse and shot-men, and soon after eleven the array was truly terrific. The largest body was to the westward. Finding their scheme of drawing the troops out did not succeed, small parties advanced in skirmishing order, and then the two divisions of Páto and the Gaikas moved towards each other, as if intending a combined attack on some given point. Colonel Lindsay was superintending the working of the gun himself, and, as soon as a body of the Gaikas came within range, a shot was sent into the midst of them, which knocked over several, disconcerted them a little, and threw them into confusion; rapid discharges of shot and shell followed. The Kaffirs now extended themselves in a line six miles in length. These advancing at the same time, so filled the valley that it seemed a mass of moving Kaffirs; rockets and shells were poured rapidly on them, and presently a tremendous fire of musketry was poured, happily, over our heads. The enemy, however, did not come near enough for the infantry to play upon them, and only a few shots were fired from the infantry barracks. While they were rifling a store, a few shots from the howitzer sent them flying, carrying off their booty, blankets, etc; a rocket was then sent after them, causing them to drop their plunder.
“The guns having frightened the cattle of the Fingoes under the fort, they (the cattle) ran off, and were captured by the Kaffirs, but the brave Fingoes, following them, took a considerable number. The actual fighting was between the Fingoes and Kaffirs: the troops could not have gone out without exposing the forts to danger, as there were masses ready to pour in at all quarters.
“The dragoons were ordered out, and, though rather late, followed up some of Páto’s men, who fled at their approach, Sir Harry Darell galloping after them with his troop. The daring Fingoes followed the Kaffirs to the Gwanga river, four miles off. Twelve of the Fingoes were killed, including a woman and child. The two latter were destroyed by the bursting of a shell over the trench under the fort, in which the poor Fingo women, and their families, were placed for safety.”
Upwards of two hundred of the enemy fell, and more were afterwards ascertained to be dead and dying, but they carried off the greater part of the cattle. It has always been a matter of astonishment to me that they did not fire the outer residences of the inhabitants, civil and military, built of wood or unburned brick, thatched, and abandoned by their inmates, with furniture and stores standing in them. Plunder was the Kaffir’s aim, however; and he obtained the plunder he loved best—cattle. The force, for the protection of such a post as Fort Peddie, was only sufficient to act on the defensive; and it was a horrible reflection to all, that, if the enemy did succeed in making an entrance, every soul would be murdered, unless some unhappy women were spared to swell the number of some savage chieftain’s wives.
In spite of their numbers, these wretches were scattered in about two hours; but they bore off the cattle. Not one white man fell on that memorable day: and, so intent was Colonel Lindsay on the working of the gun with Lieutenant King, R.A., that he was unconscious or careless of the balls whistling round his elevated position, until reminded of it by his Adjutant, Lieutenant Jennings.
While this fearful warfare was going on at Fort Peddie, Colonel Somerset, with an immense train of waggons, containing supplies and ammunition, and a force of dragoons, Cape Mounted Riflemen, and Burghers of all sorts, sizes, colours, and denominations, was moving thitherwards through the bush, avoiding the defiles near Trumpeter’s, and making a détour by Commatjes. Colonel Richardson, with a division of the 7th, was sent from Graham’s Town, in the middle of the night, to draw the attention of the enemy from Colonel Somerset’s party, but did not meet any Kaffirs. The enemy were on the alert, as usual, having their scouts watching the country; and, before Colonel Somerset could reach his destination, he was warned of the proximity of the foe by shots fired at the leading oxen of a foremost waggon; but Colonel Somerset, ready-witted in the bush as a Kaffir, had anticipated this, and provided spare oxen. With admirable coolness and speed, the dead oxen were cut away, and fresh ones “inspanned,” and in this manner, under the fire of the enemy, did Colonel Somerset and his gallant band make their way through the dense bush, up narrow and precipitous defiles, down the valleys, and across the dangerous drifts, and succeeded in reaching Fort Peddie, with the loss of four men of his own regiment; two or three also being wounded. Major Gibsone, 7th Dragoon Guards, and Lieutenant Stokes, R.E., had their horses shot under them at the first attack, and some troopers were killed.
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.
Early in July, Colonel Somerset proceeded on an expedition across the Kei, in pursuit of the treacherous chief, Páto, who had carried his plunder towards Kreli’s country. Kreli is the son of Hintza, who was shot during the former war by a colonist of the name of Southey, while endeavouring to escape from Colonel, now Sir Harry Smith. Kreli had declared he would not receive Páto, and it had yet to be proved whether the former was faithful or treacherous to us: if faithful, it was for policy’s sake, and not from any sense of honour.
Colonel Somerset having remained absent on this expedition longer than was expected, great anxiety was felt for his safe return to the Governor’s camp; when, on the 30th of July, intelligence was received at Graham’s Town that he had crossed the Kei, and taken between six and seven thousand head of cattle, from Páto’s people. The Kaffirs, it is said, were very daring; their dread of losing cattle is the only thing that gives them any courage to face the troops, but the dispatch mentions that “the moment the troops crossed the Kei, the enemy fled in all directions.” Before passing the river, the wretches dared them with their usual cry of “Izapa!” The Fort Peddie Fingoes, intent on cattle also, fought desperately—nothing could restrain them; one only was killed and one wounded. Captain Groenenwaldt, of the Swellendam division of Burghers, was badly wounded, after having captured two thousand head of cattle—is said, with eleven men. But, when such false statements were made against the military, it is difficult to believe all the fine things in favour of the civilians, especially when I know that many things that could be said militating against the latter, were carefully concealed from the public. We have often known the troops sent out to remedy the disasters and losses of the irregular forces; when, if the latter were only dismounted Hottentots, no blame was attributed to them, however careless they might have been. This is injurious, for we know not what faith to put in the favourable reports on civilians, however truly they may deserve them.
Mr Shepstone, Government Interpreter in command of the Fingoes, had a narrow escape in re-crossing a drift. The Kaffirs, with their usual cunning, allowed him to pass it; but, in returning, they completely surrounded him. Mr Shepstone ordered his men to lie down, and in this position they fired on each foe as he crept out of his ambush. Having beaten them, they attacked another body, and recaptured two thousand head of cattle, on the point of being carried off from a weak party of Fingoes. On this occasion, Mr Shepstone was struck on the head by a spent ball, which had, however, sufficient force to hurt him considerably.
On the second day of the expedition, the body of a Chief, in a tiger-skin kaross, was dug up (Note 1). It was not recognised, and was, of course, of inferior note. On approaching the Kei, the Colonial infantry halted to breakfast at a kraal, where they found an old woman (Note 2). They learned from her that the cattle “had only moved that morning,” Mr Melville having heard the report confirmed by some goatherds whom he had taken prisoners in seizing the goats, pushed on with two hundred Hottentots, and recaptured some cattle, and the next day thousands more were seen on the other side of the river. Captain Donovan, Cape Mounted Rifles (Note 3), led a party of the Cape Corps across the river; the guns and the rest of the cavalry lining the heights. Captain Donovan brought back several head of cattle to Colonel Somerset, and bivouacked for the night. It was a miserable one. Cold, dark, and very wet; no tents, scarcely any provision, and but slight covering! Little rest could be obtained, for the enemy and the Fingoes kept up an incessant exchange of shots, yelling and shouting to each other like demons. Some of the prisoners admitted that Páto was near the sea, and observed that Umhala had “died at the Gwanga,” but this was no doubt figurative, implying that his power was broken; he was dead as a Chief. Mr Melville, who had lost his way, returned, July 21st, to Colonel Somerset’s camp, bringing with him a large herd of cattle, having killed five Kaffirs in taking it. As the colonial infantry were all sadly knocked up with fatigue and hardship, it was now determined by Colonel Somerset that the three prisoners should be sent with messages to Umhala, Páto, and Kreli, previously to the return of the troops. So, drawing up his forces in line along the heights above the drift of the Kei, three rounds of artillery were fired, and the prisoners sent off with a message to the effect that “Colonel Somerset had fired three guns on these heights, to say that he took possession of that country, from the Fish River to the Kei, for the Government—one gun for Kreli, because he had given shelter to Páto, the great enemy of the Colony; one gun for Páto; and one for Umhala—that these guns were only the forerunners of what was to come; that we were going to the Amatolas, to attack the Gaikas, and that afterwards we would return to the Kei.” The prisoners were then set free; they kissed Colonel Somerset’s feet, and rushed down the hill towards the river. On the great guns being fired, the Kaffirs on the heights about two miles off, fled as fast as possible.
As the division marched back, the Kaffirs showed themselves, in small parties, following in the rear, and at night continued to harass the troops by firing into the camp. The next day, the 22nd July, both men and horses were knocked up, and the former were frequently obliged to walk. About sunset, Mr Melville’s party were followed closely by the enemy; and, had they not received assistance from Colonel Somerset’s division in front, they would have had some hot work, as the savages were four times their number. All along the line of march the Kaffirs continued to fire at them; fifty-eight horses were left dead: during the whole of the night, the enemy kept up a fire upon the camp, without effect. On the 23rd, men and horses began to fail in strength, for want of provision; and, tired and famished, the troops had to fight their way, as the enemy fired from every ambuscade along the line of march; horses and cattle dropping fast. After sunset, they were again beset by savages, whose fires were visible from the bivouac. Lying in a circle round the cattle, little rest could be obtained; the Kaffirs shouted and yelled as usual, saying they now had the Umlunghi “in a calabash.” As this insolence continued, it was supposed the Gaikas had come down from the Amatolas to help Páto’s people; and thus, a rush being expected, the men were ordered to stand to their arms till daylight. In the middle of the night, while this sharp firing from the enemy was at its height, a man’s ammunition blew up, wounding himself and two other men. Some horses were also stolen, in spite of all precaution and vigilance. Two or three Kaffirs were shot.
Right glad were the troops to reach the General’s camp, and the Governor himself must have been much relieved at their return, especially with such booty.
On the 26th of July, Colonel Hare left Fort Beaufort with a thousand troops. Captain Ward, 91st Regiment, was appointed Commandant of Beaufort during the absence of the Lieutenant-Governor, Sir Andries Stockenstrom having taken the field some weeks before. Sir Andries had had a conference with the Tambookies, who some time before had come down upon the Hottentot settlement on the Kat River, and done considerable mischief. This mischief being done, and the Tambookies having no doubt shared the plunder with the Gaikas, they promised to take no further part against the Colony! The affair at the Gwanga, and the approach of the planting season, were two grand incentives to them to “sit still,” but, as long as the cattle were known to be in Tambookie-land, how could any arrangements be satisfactory?
On the day that Colonel Hare left Fort Beaufort, the 26th of July, Sir Andries Stockenstrom put his Burgher force in position, moved in the night from Block Drift, and, on reaching the Tyumie, had a spirited engagement with Macomo’s people (Gaikas), who had entrenched themselves in those fastnesses. Sir Andries Stockenstrom’s plans of attack were generally admitted to be good; his movements were made in the night, and were as stealthy as those of the savages themselves. It was at dawn of day, after spending the night on the ridge of the mountains, that Sir Andries divided his force into parties of two hundred, and entered the bushy kloofs of these strongholds, where they were soon engaged with the enemy. As I have only had hearsay evidence on this subject, I can give no description of the fight from good authority, but it seems to have been a smart affair, Sir Andries cheering his men, who fought, it is said, till their ammunition was nearly expended. Many Kaffirs are reported to have fallen in this engagement. The enemy might be said to have been nearly hemmed in. That part of the country where the Kei, the Bashee, and the Umtata have their sources, is described as being of an “impracticable character,” and abutting upon the territories of the Tambookie Chief, Umtitara, and of the Amaponda Chief, Faku. With the former, Sir Andries had already made “arrangements,” and received promises of good faith! Faku offered his services to the Government at the beginning of the war, but it was not considered expedient to accept them. He, however, it is said, received permission to seize such cattle as he could take from our Kaffir foes; and, as he destroyed women and children without mercy, he became an object of great terror “to all the country round.” No reliance could be placed on the good faith of any of these Chiefs, but they seem to have deemed it politic to “sit still” and plant their own, provided we did not try to seize the cattle.
On the 5th of August, the enemy approached Colonel Hare’s division under the Amatolas, and commenced hostilities by firing; this was returned by the troops, and continued for some time. Serjeant Barnes, of the Royal Sappers and Miners, was shot through the heart, and a serjeant of the Provincials was also killed, besides eight or nine coloured people being wounded. Before sunrise the next morning, the two divisions under Colonel Hare and Sir Andries Stockenstrom were in motion, and the former, seeing the Fingoes hesitate for a moment at the edge of a bush, raised his cap, gave three hearty cheers, and led the way himself. The old soldier’s Irish blood was fairly up. The fight continued till sunset, and during the action blue-lights and rockets were thrown up at intervals, as signals to the head-quarter division, but there was no answering signal, nor could it be ascertained where this division actually was. On the following morning all was preparation for a second engagement; but, as usual, the enemy had slipped away in the night, like a Will o’ the wisp, towards the Buffalo. Colonel Hare moved on to Fort Cox, where Sir Andries was to join him, after scouring some of the difficult passes of the mountains, where the Fingoes and Hottentots fought desperately, climbing the heights in the face of the enemy’s fire.
After Colonel Somerset’s return from the Kei, the cavalry were too much done up for further work without rest for men and horses; one hundred and fifty-seven horses were in such a jaded state, that it was found necessary to shoot them, and many others died. The Kaffirs harassed the troops when they dared not meet them, by firing into the camps at night, while other parties set fire to the grass, to destroy even the wretched pasturage left for the toil-worn cattle.
In order to recruit the exhausted strength of his division, Colonel Somerset bivouacked within five miles of Fort Peddie, near the Gwanga. Until the cattle and horses were in better condition, it was quite impossible to continue offensive operations.
The only circumstance on which, at this period, the mind could rest with satisfaction, was the success attending the landing of stores and supplies at the Fish River mouth. It is to be hoped that Mr Cock, at the Kowie, will reap the reward of many years’ perseverance. Still the want of rain continued to destroy our hopes of vegetation, and sickness prevailed in many districts.
Some extracts from my Journal will serve to give an idea of our defenceless position in Graham’s Town; and though the perils, privations, and terrors of women have little to do in the working of the great machine of warfare, they can hardly fail to excite some interest among those who in happy England cannot fully appreciate the blessings of peace, from the circumstance of their never having endured the horrors of war. I shall relate, as concisely as possible, our own privations, alarms, and anxieties.
“August 1st.—Kaffir fires seen in the distance: in the evening, received intelligence from head-quarters relative to Colonel Somerset’s engagements on the other side of the Kei, and capture of the cattle.
“Colonel Somerset could have captured more than he did, but he had not force to retain them. Every night his bivouacs were surrounded by Kaffirs, who fired continually into them; sometimes in derision, at others in anger. Some called out to the troops, ‘Take care of the calves you have got, we will have them in two years!’ Others exclaimed, ‘Let us rush upon them!’ ‘No, no,’ said another party, ‘who ever heard of attacking a kraal of guns?’ Some crept nearer the bivouac, and entreated their favourite pack-oxen to come out to them: ‘What business,’ said they, ‘have you among white men? Come out to us—we will treat you kindly. Leave the Umlunghi, who will ill-use you and make you work.’
“Thus they harassed the troops during the whole march; hanging on their rear in the day-time, and, at night, obliging them to keep up a constant peppering. At the drifts there was always troublesome work.
“August 2nd, Sunday.—I am always more impressed with the strange appearance of the town on Sunday than on any other day; every one who can, making his way to church, and business suspended; shots, too, above the town along the hills, and the rattle of arms and accoutrements in the streets, are more audible on Sunday than in the bustling week-days, Another thing I have frequently remarked; the news of whatever occurs in the field generally reaches us on the Sabbath, and we often say, ‘To-day is Sunday: I wonder what intelligence we shall have.’
“August 3rd.—A beautiful day. It is quite grievous—yes, melancholy, to see the sun scorching the earth, and know that the cattle must die for want of food, and that there will be no vegetation this year. We have had no rain for months, except slight showers for a day or two. To-day, some young girls have assembled in my cottage-garden to celebrate a birthday. What a relief it is to have left the confinement of the dreadful barrack for this small cottage on the hill! We are scarcely considered in a safe position, but we grew weary of the gaol-like Drostdy, and succeeded in getting shelter at Fort England—misnamed a fort—where a few of the 91st are in quarters.
“But the birthday. None of our little female community had been merry since April; but this bright day I resolved to be cheerful, and to put aside my child’s books and my own employments; and, since the sun would shine, and not oppressively, to enjoy it. First, there were flowers to gather and arrange. I wanted some arums, the beautiful lilies of the yam plant, so the girls went down below the parched, uncultivated garden, to a stream now almost dry and desecrated by Hottentot washerwomen: they there witnessed melancholy ‘signs of the times,’—nine dead animals lay beside the dull and shallow stream. The poor starved creatures had crawled into the hollow to die. These things make but slight impressions on the young; they do not trace results, however sad, to their primary causes; so when they had replenished my flower-vase, away they went to their garden amusements. I mention these trivial things by way of contrast. She whose birthday we celebrated came down the path, with a gay wreath of flowers and foliage wound round her fair hair—happy, healthy, blooming, joyous sixteen! Thus I mused, as she stood laughing under a fine oak, just coming into leaf—like her, in its spring. Suddenly, in the distance we heard the boom of cannon echoing sullenly along the mountain-ridges, and through the kloofs and passes far away. The day was so still that we heard distinctly the rapid discharges of shot and shell! The servants told us they had heard these sounds of death and doom all the morning. We only knew they came from that part of the country where the regular troops were co-operating with Sir Andries Stockenstrom and his Burgher force. Gazing in that direction, my eye fell on a signal-tower on a hill-top. That tower, with many others, is now deserted, for three reasons. The first, and most cogent one is that, like the rest of its fellows, it is useless. The atmosphere of this climate scarcely ever permits communication by telegraph. Secondly, the men cannot be provisioned there in war-time. Of meat and biscuit they might lay in a stock, as if for sea; but water cannot be procured without risking life. Thirdly, in war-time, when the telegraphs would be of the utmost use, and would save time, labour, life, and horses, by making swift communications of the stealthy movements of the Kaffirs, the force on the frontier is so small that no men can be spared to work the signals.
“All the morning of that birthday we heard the cannon booming as we sat in the garden, and we afterwards learned that Macomo had been hemmed in and attacked in the Tyumie fastnesses, but with little success and some loss on our side. The enemy, as usual, harassed the troops, and then gave them the slip.
“5th. Kaffirs known to be in the immediate neighbourhood of Graham’s Town, an attack fully anticipated by some; fortunately, we never entered into these ‘alarms.’ The soldiers’ wives on the hill in extreme terror. Shots firing all day rapidly. I wonder more accidents do not occur among those who have lately learned the use of fire-arms. I stood at the gate in the evening and watched a fire very near the town: it blazed up for about ten minutes, and was extinguished as suddenly as it had been lit. Fires seen in other directions, supposed to be signals for a general assembly of the warriors in the mountains. More cattle stolen within three miles of us to-day. Walked down in the evening to the end of the green, to look at our defences. Sorry things! A square of thatched barracks, more like huts than houses, contains sometimes no more than fifteen soldiers, some of them left here as ineffective. Our space near the guardhouse is defended by a wooden stockade, breast-high, and two other passages are banked up about three feet high. No picquets at this end of the town, for want of men. We have a kloof just above the mess-house, and it was a few miles from there that Mr Norden, of the Yeomanry, was shot.
“6th. Our garrison is reinforced by a corps of liberated Africans, a happy, lazy-looking set, who are chiefly employed in escorting waggons. The Malays have also been brought in a body from Cape Town. They take the war coolly enough, and when off duty, lie about the green in the warm and moonlight nights, whistling and singing the most harmonious choruses. They will not enter the bush, and have never been of use in rescuing cattle.
“7th. Kaffir Jack, Cosani, arrived. He has rather a suspicious character, but has never proved unfaithful. His adventures would help to dress up a volume in Cooper’s style, for he lives much among the English, but can wander at will from one end of Kaffirland to the other. Some days ago, it was suspected that Umki’s son, Sio, had gone off to Kaffirland, on some treacherous mission from his wily father. Sir Harry Smith’s opinion of Umki was so bad, that he used to tell him plainly in reply to his fair promises, ‘Umki, you are a liar!’ Umki, however, never took offence at this. Falsehood is no disgrace among the Kaffirs; on the contrary, the greatest rogue is the best man. Jack came to say Sio had never been away. Just now Jack is under Umki’s stern guidance. At any time the word of a Kaffir is worth nothing. He asked about Sandilla. I told him there was no longer a chief of that name, that there had been one, who had been to his people as a string by which beads are held together. Sandilla had been the string, but it was broken, his people had been the beads, but they were scattered, unlinked for ever, and dispersed for and wide, and neither beads nor string could now be re-united. Jack bent down his head and mused with his hands clasped for some minutes, and said, ‘It is good.’ Umki and his followers came up in the afternoon; two wives, servants, and children. He and his ragged retinue amused themselves by inspecting our defences, our open gardens, and our thatched houses. If Umki can communicate the true condition of Graham’s Town to his friends in Kaffirland, they may take advantage of it. I am sure the Governor, if he were in Graham’s Town, would not allow this treacherous refugee to wander at large as he does. News from the camps—unsatisfactory—Kaffirs still firing into the bivouacs. Lieut. Stokes, R.E., slightly wounded by a sentry, Mr S having imprudently ventured beyond the lines.
“August 8th.—The Kaffirs have again entered the Colony in numerous bodies, and continue plundering and murdering as usual. We hear this day of the arrival of the 45th in Simon’s Bay on the 30th July. The distance they have to travel would in England be journeyed in about forty hours; we shall now observe the period that elapses between the arrival of the 45th in Simon’s Bay, near Cape Town, and their entrance into Graham’s Town, as well as that between their departure from Graham’s Town and their arrival in the immediate front of the army in Kaffirland. It is to be hoped that their approach will daunt the enemy, but the Kaffirs have learned their power ever since the disastrous affair at Burn’s Hill; and, in spite of occasional reverses, the tide has hitherto been in their favour. Their losses, considering their number, have been trifling; they have possessed themselves of the colonial cattle, and they have cut off vast quantities of our supplies, while we are obliged to pause. We have driven the great body of them out of the ceded territory, it is true, but they have taken most of the plunder with them into a richer and more fertile country. The month of July has been marked by the death of one of the Colony’s most promising and creditable settlers. Mr Gordon Nourse, Assistant Commandant of the Burgher Force, was shot by the enemy, while assisting a neighbour to rescue his cattle. Sir Andries Stockenstrom, in announcing officially the death of Mr Nourse, says, ‘He fell yesterday in a gallant attack made by himself at the head of a small party upon a body of Kaffirs in the jungle. The Commandant-General has to lament the loss the service has sustained of one of the most efficient, zealous, and meritorious officers under his command.’
“9th, Sunday. Sad news from a place known by the hideous name of Hell’s Poort. Five burghers have been shot by Kaffirs in that terrible pass. A party of nineteen having entered a rocky and bushy kloof in search of some cattle, they were fired upon by some Kaffirs posted on the summit of the hills on either side. The burghers, being surrounded by 200 Kaffirs, and their ammunition getting low, retired to their camp for a reinforcement, with which they returned, and again faced the enemy. Among the five who fell, were two brothers of the name of De Villiers, the history of whose death is a mournful one. As one brother fell wounded to the ground, the other ran to him to comfort and support him in his dying moments. His friends called him away; he would not stir, but held his young brother’s hand in his, till a shot from the savages brought him down, and laid him beside him whom he would not forsake to save his own life.
“10th. The bodies of the five Stellenbosch Burghers were brought in to be buried. A concourse of people followed the melancholy train of five coffins through the town to the burial-ground.
“13th. Rain, at last! gentle showers. Only those who have looked on the parched soil of Africa can have an idea of the blessing of rain after a long drought. It sounds quite musical as it patters on the few trees that are in the garden. The enemy have laid waste the country from the Buffalo to the Kei. What a sight must those vast tracts of country be, when blazing! The grass will spring up all the fresher for it, afterwards.
“17th. Walked into town. As we passed the Wesleyan Chapel, we saw Umki and his wives and children basking idly in the sun on the pavement near the chapel-porch. Umki was set aside by his tribe for being a coward in the last war, so now he bestows his unwelcome company on the English, roaming about, begging from every one he meets, spending what he gains at the canteens.
“19th. My child’s birthday! these seem trifles to touch upon; to us they only bring sad memories when we compare the present state of war and anxiety with happy anniversaries passed in peaceful England. News from the head-quarter division. The General is encamped at a place called Fort Beresford, so named in the last war by Sir Benjamin D’Urban, in compliment to one of his aides-de-camp. Colonel Johnstone, 27th Regiment, had led about 300 infantry over the Buffalo mountains, while Colonel Somerset, with a cavalry column and guns, had gone round the base of the hills, the infantry, ascending to the summit in single file, and Mr Melville’s Hottentots mounting the hill in another direction, killed three Kaffirs and captured some cattle. The troops bivouacked for the night on the ridge. Next day, every bush and kloof was scoured, but neither shots nor yells, nor the old cry of ‘Izapa!’ was heard in those now solitary places, the enemy having decamped in the night. At one time, a party of horsemen were discovered winding leisurely along an eminence at some little distance, and this was afterwards ascertained to be the chief Seyolo and his people coolly riding off from the vicinity of the troops, who, they knew, would have great difficulty in catching them, from their having no cavalry with them.
“In spite of the silence which reigned in these solitudes, there were evident traces of hasty retreat, by the fresh spoor of cattle; but to detail this march up the hill and down again, would be but a repetition of many other such expeditions. The Kaffirs slipped away, and the troops followed them with their ammunition loose in their pouches, to be ready for action, but returned harassed, disappointed, and half-starved.
“The country through which they passed is of a much grander and more fertile character than that occupied by the colonists; and, were the Buffalo and Keiskama rivers opened to trade, an immense increase of commerce would be the result.” (This desirable change has since been effected by Sir Harry Smith.)
“The head-quarter division, consisting of part of the 91st and 90th Regiments, under Major Yarborough (91st), two troops of the 7th Dragoon Guards, and some of the Cape Corps, remained encamped at Fort Beresford, the whole being under the command of Sir Peregrine Maitland. Colonel Somerset, Cape Mounted Rifles, and Colonel Richardson, 7th Dragoon Guards, having reported their horses unfit for duty, it was resolved that the main body of the cavalry should take up a position where both men and horses could rest and be refreshed. As soon as the horses that remain recover from the late fatigue and starvation, the country will be patrolled and kept, until more decisive measures can be framed, and the worn-out cattle are fit for more active operations.
“The Kaffirs have long remained in small detached bodies in the neighbourhood of the camp, firing into it at night and lying in wait for occasions of theft, or mischief, all day. A prisoner was brought in one day, who asserted that the woods close by were full of women and old men. Although Macomo had ordered his men not to fight, they were determined to plunder and murder, and crept into the colony and round the orders as usual. ‘Young Kaffirland’ had gone over the Kei for the present, with the stolen cattle.
“Troops were sent into the woods, to bring in some of the prisoners. The poor heathen females are employed in carrying powder and provisions from one ambuscade to another, and it is therefore necessary to search them. But they are not easily intimidated; and, when threatened by the military, who to frighten them put their muskets to their shoulders, they calmly put the pieces on one side, and as there was little to repay any one for the trouble of carrying off a set of Kaffir women against their will, they were left in the woods, where, no doubt, corn was buried for their provision. Great scarcity, however, must prevail with them, as the crops failed last year.
“On the 15th of August, fourteen poor waggon-drivers, chiefly Fingoes and Hottentots, went into the kloofs of the mountains to search for corn, and, seeing some cattle, were led miles away. A strong force of Kaffirs, seeing the weakness of their party as they emerged upon an open plain, rushed upon them, and, it is supposed, killed all but one, who crept into a bush, and, lying by till night, made his way back to the camp, with the melancholy intelligence. Lieutenant Owen, with a party of the 90th, was sent out in search of these poor creatures, but found only one body. The rest had probably been borne off, to suffer torture and mutilation. The savage brutality of the Kaffir is not satisfied with taking life, or even by immediate mutilation. Some Hottentots having been decoyed to a bush by some goats being placed at the edge of it to graze, they were seized by the Kaffirs, and murdered. The bodies, being discovered by the troops, were buried; but when a party again traversed the spot where they had been interred, it was found that the poor dead creatures had been dug up, mutilated, and impaled! I have lately heard a shocking anecdote, connected with the death of an unfortunate Hottentot, who, having been brought up as a Christian, wished to be allowed to make his peace with the Almighty ere he suffered death. Some wished to give him a few moments to devote to prayer, but others rushed forward, exclaiming, ‘Nonsense, kill him at once,—what is the use of his praying here? Have we not driven God Almighty from the land?’ The murder of the missionary Schulz dispelled the idea that such men were protected by an invisible power, an idea the Kaffirs always entertained before, and even since the commencement of the war. They have shown no respect for the missionary stations, for they have destroyed houses, chapels, and bibles; hence, their idea that they have ‘driven God from the land.’
“21st. News from Fort Beaufort. Macomo had again sent to Colonel Hare to sue for peace. The Lieutenant-Governor replied, that if the Gaikas would give up their guns and the plundered cattle, he would intercede for peace with the Governor. This is not the sort of peace they want. I hope the rumours of a rupture between Macomo and Sandilla may be correct.
“A paramount chief’s person is held sacred, otherwise, perhaps, as Macomo wishes to head the Gaikas, Sandilla might be secretly disposed of; but such an instance has never been known. How strange the tie between chief and people! The chief will not hesitate to sacrifice by death, or torture, any individual of his tribe, however innocent he may know him to be, if he stand in the way of his most trifling whims, but the person of the chief is sacred, and will be protected by his people at the risk of their lives. (We see the same thing among insect and animal communities.) Kreli and Páto have quarrelled, the former, it is said, reproaching Páto for bringing the Umlunghi into his country. I think it more likely they are at variance about the plunder. Kreli probably keeps a fair face to us, while he invites Páto to his kraal, and having got him there, would fain share the booty.
“Nothing yet heard of Sir Andries Stockenstrom and Colonel Johnstone, with their divisions, but to-day, the 25th, some news of importance has reached us from the Governor’s camp! Stock, Eno’s son, has sent councillors to say, that he wishes to surrender himself. Macomo and Umhala have intimated the same desire, but Sandilla, as obstinate as ever, protests that if we will not grant peace on his own terms, his people shall advance into our colony in the same degree as our troops move through his. This day, the contractor has killed the last slaughter-ox for the troops in Graham’s Town.
“26th. News from Fort Beaufort. Captain Ryneveldt and his Burghers had had an ‘affair,’—four people killed on our side, and five wounded. No chance of rain, and the country in that district and this is in a frightful state. Cattle, as usual, are dying round us, in the very streets, and dropping dead from the waggons. Colonel Somerset is patrolling between the Fish River mouth and Fort Beaufort. It will be a great thing to get supplies along that line from Waterloo Bay, for there is scarcely any corn at Beaufort. The 7th have gone thither to recruit.
“28th. Stock’s agreement, drawn up by Colonel Somerset, is to be submitted to the Governor for approval. Stock’s readiness to give up the cattle surprises me. He will outwit us, if he can, and probably now only wants a truce that he may be allowed to plant. No sense of honour brings him ‘to the feet of the Governor,’ but the document must speak for itself. Like Sandilla’s, in February last, it is very pathetic, and sounds poetical. Having obtained permission to enter Colonel Somerset’s camp, near the Gwanga, Stock reached it on the 21st, and made the following declaration:—
“That ‘he was come to throw himself at the Governor’s feet, that he was to-day the Governor’s Fingo (slave), that he had fallen, and laid no more claim to his ground, that he was come out of the bush, that he was at our feet, and that by coming without arms he considered he surrendered himself; that he would leave his father’s bush, and asked only for a place whereon to “sit.” He entreated he might not be sent to Fort Peddie, as it might lead to quarrel between the Fingoes and his people. He stated that his people were so numerous he could not count them by tens, that he was willing to give up all his cattle and horses, soliciting nothing but a place where he might sit, and hoped the Government would appoint him the care of his father’s bones.’
“Colonel Somerset replied, that, ‘the bush where his father’s bones lay was no longer Stock’s, that he had forfeited it by breaking faith with the Government, but that it should be protected, although he would not be allowed to live in it.’
“Terms were then drawn up. Stock was to send into Kaffirland for the stolen cattle and horses, a temporary ground ‘whereon to sit’ was appointed him till the Governor’s pleasure was known; and, in the meantime, he was to be held responsible that no molestation should be offered to our convoys proceeding through that part of the country. Sonto, an inferior chief of his tribe, was not considered in these agreements.
“At the close of these proceedings, Stock laid down his arms, and wept as he did so. They consisted of thirty-three stand of arms, and thirty-six assegais in the possession of his immediate followers. Colonel Somerset returned the chief his own gun. At first, Stock was unwilling to resign his arms, saying his tribes had never yet been subdued, and would be considered women for doing so. Some time was given him to decide, and finally he gave them up with this remark, that ‘sooner or later the other chiefs must come to the same resolution.’ Still, the ‘people’ continue to infest the Colony, still their signal-fires are visible from the town, and still the cattle are captured and recaptured, and poor settlers are found murdered in their homesteads. Much anxiety is felt for the result of Sir Andries Stockenstrom’s expedition into Kreli’s country. It is to be hoped he will make no treaty with that treacherous chief, that can in any way compromise the Governor.”
Note 1. The Kaffirs are in the habit of burying their chiefs, but no other dead.
Note 2. It is the general custom of the Kaffirs to leave an old woman in a kraal as a spy. They manage to keep up a constant communication with her, and supply her with food.
Note 3. Captain Donovan nearly lost his life on the banks of the Gwanga, on the day of the memorable action there. On reaching a drift, whither he had led his horse to drink, four or five Kaffirs suddenly rushed upon him. His rifle was on the ground, and there was no time to draw his sword, before the musket of a savage was levelled at his head. A man named Brown, formerly a private in the 75th Regiment, coming up at this instant, snatched up Captain Donovan’s rifle, and shot the Kaffir dead on the spot.