The Cape and the Kaffirs Part 19

It was hoped that the success of Colonel Somerset, at the Chechabe, would daunt Pato; but no offers of submission worth listening to were received. A few Kaffirs, coming within hail of the troops, called out that they "did not intend fighting any more; the cattle were across the Kei, and the Umlunghi must go for them if they wanted them." Either Pato or one of his councillors shouted aloud, "We will not meet you, but will return into the Colony, and wander as wolves."

Although I had seen Sandilla at Fort Peddie in 1843, I went to pay him a visit in captivity. The room in which he was imprisoned was half filled with his followers and councillors. Seated on an iron bedstead, with his blanket wound round him, he smoked his pipe in silence; some of his followers reclined idly on the straw mattresses provided for them; and, by the side of the young Chief's couch lay Anta, whom he roused from sleep on our naming him, for he was as great an object of interest as Sandilla. Putting aside the blanket from his face, he sat up and eyed us keenly, looking from us to his brother, but what was pa.s.sing within their minds no one could divine; their countenances expressed neither surprise, curiosity, resentment, nor dislike. Some sat round a fire in the centre of the room, and one aged Kaffir, with a grey head, gazed earnestly in our faces. This was one of Sandilla's chief advisers, and one whom he managed to cage with himself, by sending for him amicably, giving secret orders, however, to compel him to come in case he hesitated. As the cunning Gaika has always professed to act "by the advice of his councillors," he antic.i.p.ated that the greater punishment would devolve upon them, and by this means he trusted that his own would be lightened.

The replies of Sandilla to various remarks and questions lately put to him are shrewd enough. On his being told, by one of the authorities, that if he attempted to escape from his confinement he would be shot, Sandilla answered that "as he had voluntarily surrendered himself, it was not likely he should run away." Soon after his imprisonment, he requested a daily allowance of wine. On being asked if he had ever been in the habit of drinking it, he said "No." Then why indulge in what he had never been accustomed to? "I am now the white man's child," replied Sandilla; "my father is wise, and I would do all things as he does."

When his warriors left his "Great Place," to join the gathering in the Amatolas, he found one lingering long behind the rest. "What are you doing here?" asked the Chief; "you are like a solitary locust when the swarm has gone; so, the sooner you hop after it the better."

"December 17th.--The frontier to-night is delirious with joy. The town is illuminated, and beacon lights telegraph from the hill-tops that Sir Harry Smith has arrived."

Note 1. As was proved before Sir Harry, then Colonel, Smith, and published in a doc.u.ment signed by him, and by Captain Lacy, 72nd Highlanders, Arthur Balfour, Aide-de-Camp, and Mr Shepstone, Kaffir Interpreter. This doc.u.ment, dated King William's Town, February, 1836, bears the marks also of Macomo and Ganga.

PART TWO, CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

RIDE IN THE WINTERBERG.

I have lately ridden within the s.p.a.ce of a fortnight--and resting half that fortnight--two hundred and fifty miles, through the country lately infested, and still haunted, by the savage enemy. It presents a glorious contrast to last year; the hand of Providence has put aside the hand of man. The majestic Winterberg mountain, nearly nine thousand feet high, rose before us in our ride, green almost to its summit. The valleys beneath us, as we pa.s.sed from one mountain-top to the other, were "smiling with corn;" the gra.s.s on the plains waved as in our English meadow-lands; the woodman's axe rang in the forests, near the scene of many a b.l.o.o.d.y fray; and, although small groups of Kaffirs doubtless looked down upon us from many "a leafy nook," we pa.s.sed up the steep ascents in the midst of deep jungle and impervious thickets, unmolested. On the road to Fort Hare, a spot was pointed out to me, on which a Hottentot waggon-driver had breathed his last. He was shot by the enemy, who had carried off his oxen, scarcely a month before. A fortnight after I had travelled that way, with but slight escort,-- Colonel Campbell, 91st, being the only one of our party who was armed,-- a man, formerly of the Royal Artillery, was killed by an a.s.segai, thrown by an unseen hand, from some huts formerly occupied by some of Macomo's tribe.

In spite of terrible a.s.sociations, my ride in the Winterberg Mountains was a peaceful one, and full of interest. The monkeys swung from bough to bough, the canaries sang their untiring melodies, the bell-bird chimed its solemn-sounding note, and there was little to break the calm of the scene save the advance of the Christian Chief, Kama, with a dozen dusky followers, all armed and mounted, on his way to Graham's Town.

The Winterberg is a district taking its name from the mountains so called--_berg_ meaning mountain, in Dutch. The tops of these mountains are often covered with snow. The close of the first day's journey from Graham's Town brought us to the Koonap River, which we found almost impa.s.sable for horses. The troopers of the dragoon orderlies were towed over in the wake of the boat, trembling, snorting, kicking, some turning heels uppermost, and others at last submitting to their fate, and falling exhausted on the bank on reaching it. The river roared and tumbled, and the pa.s.sage across, in the old boat, with its uncertain rope, would have frightened fine ladies. But people must cease to be fine ladies in Africa. Some of our horses were left picqueted with a guard of soldiers, and I confess to some uneasiness during the night, as I lay listening to the noisy torrent below our little inn, half expecting to hear shots exchanged between the guard and the enemy. The inn itself was a "sign of the times." The host, Mr Tomlinson, an old Life Guardsman, had made the place defensible, and stood his ground during the heat of the war. My bed-room window, hung with white curtains of primitive English dimity, was still bricked up half way, and travellers pa.s.sing by rested their arms against the loop-holed walls, and told of cattle lost and Kaffirs killed, with an air of as little concern as they would have worn in relating the prices of a country fair.

I was not sorry to hear, the next morning, that our steeds had neither been stolen by the enemy nor swept down the river.

After a night's rest at Fort Beaufort, we left it, on the 12th of November, for Fort Hare, a strange-looking garrison, consisting of innumerable formal houses of a single room each, reminding one of the account of some barracks in England, in which an officer can lie in his bed, stir the fire, open the window, and shut the door, without much alteration in his position.

The scenery around Fort Hare is very grand, and not at all in accordance with the prim little edifices of "wattle and daub" which form precise squares and most unpicturesque alleys of a pale gingerbread hue. In approaching Fort Hare, we were obliged to plunge our horses into the Tyumie stream, amidst a crowd of Kaffir girls, who were swimming, laughing, and shouting to each other, like a bevy of sable Naiads, from the bashes and the boughs overhanging the long-disputed waters.

On the 15th I started, under the care of the Rev Mr Beaver, from Fort Beaufort, for my ride among the mountains. Colonel Campbell, of the 91st, accompanied us on the first day's journey, beguiling the day with many graphic anecdotes of the war; and the rest, beside some clear spring, after pa.s.sing up the steep ascents between the Blinkwater and Post Retief, was delightful. This Blinkwater post was ably defended, during the war, against a hundred and fifty of the enemy at least, by Serjeant Snodgra.s.s, of the 91st Regiment, and six or eight soldiers.

Serjeant Snodgra.s.s was honourably mentioned in general orders, in consequence.

Another rest at Retief, and we advanced the next day. As drew near the n.o.ble Winterberg, it presented the appearance of a huge elephant with a howdah (of basaltic rock) on its back; a fringe of grey stone round it gave an idea of its trappings. Our destination was Glenthorn, the residence of Mr Pringle, one of that family of Yair, familiarly mentioned by Sir Walter Scott. My short stay, of barely two days, at Glenthorn, prevented me from seeing much that was interesting; but a Bushman's cave tempted me, in spite of sun, dust, wind, and a "tempest coming up," to scramble through a little forest of shrubs. In this haunt, for it could scarcely be called a cave, we discovered some of those curious paintings which present a singular memento of these creatures of an almost extinct race. I have seen various facsimiles of such drawings published, but the subjects they were intended to represent have been seldom sufficiently defined to ill.u.s.trate their original meaning. The one we saw was perfect in its representation of an eland and buffalo hunt. One strange pigmy creature sat sideways on horseback, in full chase of the game; another stood at bay, as if to prevent the animals from leaving the path into which they had turned; and others were awaiting them with their poisoned bows and arrows.

[Note 1.] These drawings were done in variously coloured ochres--brown, red, yellow, and some black. This lovely spot was more like the dwelling-place of fairies than of the hideous aborigines of South Africa. A stream rippled under the trees, and the green turf was spangled with flowers of many colours. The monkeys had doubtless deserted it at our approach, but their _ropes_ (a peculiar kind of creeper, hanging like swings from the yellow-wood trees) attested their constant presence there. We tried to imagine the Bushmen resting here after their day's hunt, and recording its events on the scarp of rock facing us, at the head of the wooded eminence, now almost roofed in with tall trees and parasitical plants. Here they prepared the poisons, for madness, disease, or death, as suited their wild purposes, from the wild bulbs which grew in such bright profusion--deceitful things! Now, the birds were singing above us in the suns.h.i.+ne. The Bushman's foresight with regard to provision, in this uncertain country, might afford a lesson to the white man. If they cannot consume at a meal the little lizards, locusts, etc, on which they prey, they impale them, leaving them on the th.o.r.n.y bushes, to return to when in need. [This is the system of the butcher-bird.]

The Bushmen who have lately been exhibited in London, were described as belonging to a race of people, "caught on the banks of the Great Fish River," which is altogether a mistake, as the few Bushmen left in Africa have now gone far to the northward. The Boers beyond the Orange River know their haunts, and often supply them with game, to prevent them from stealing and destroying their sheep, for, what they cannot eat on the spot, they will kill and mutilate, in the spirit of sheer mischief.

These unfortunate little beings live literally among the clefts of rocks, subsisting on locusts, roots, and anything else they can find in the eating way.

A Dutch farmer, who for some time had regularly furnished a small colony of Bushmen with game, became surprised at the non-appearance of the periodical envoys for it, and therefore went up to their "dwelling-places among the conies." A wretched scene presented itself: the measles had broken out in the community, and the dead, the dying, the sick, the old and the young, men, women, and children, were all heaped together within the caves and nooks of the steep krantzes. He dragged them from their covert, but they would listen to no suggestions calculated, if acted on, to remedy or lighten the disease, and all he could do was to rescue some of the children from the pest-house in the wilderness.

Unlike these Bushmen, and some other savages, the Kaffirs are most cautious in endeavouring to avoid all infections maladies; and, when the smallpox swept off the aborigines in numbers, the different tribes of the Kafirs established _cordons sanitaires_, and framed and abided by the most stringent laws of quarantine.

I could write many pages on the subject of Mr Pringle's charming and admirably-planned location. I shall long think of the Bushman's haunt, the little chapel in the fertile valley, and, above all, the kindly welcome I met with at Glenthorn, but such agreeable reminiscences must be reserved for another time; these pages are dedicated to a history of war and turmoil, and I must not pause to dwell on pleasant memories connected with my journey through those mountain-ranges.

None of Mr Pringle's family deserted the mansion during the war. It was made defensible, and afforded a refuge for many who dared not remain on their isolated farms. It was quite a little garrison in itself, and was never even attacked by the Kaffirs.

On our way to the Mancazana, we rested again at Mr Macmaster's farm--a place with a pretty, peaceful-looking garden, backed by such cliffs! and interesting from its being a.s.sociated with the poet Pringle, and his works, many of them having been written on this romantic spot. In the Maacazana valley we pa.s.sed by the ruins of several farms, and at the post we heard an indistinct rumour of the deaths of five officers [Note 2]; that such a number had been killed was clear, but to what regiment they belonged I could not ascertain. In no happy frame of mind I reached Mr Gilbert's farm, within seven miles of Fort Beaufort; here again were the evidences of war--bullet-marks on the walls, palisades torn up, and gates well battened. A charger, formerly belonging to Captain Bertie Gordon, of the 91st, stood peaceably eating his forage in the yard, but his once sleek skin was rough, and his frame looked worn.

Poor "Prussian!" his owners regretted his changed appearance, and so did I.

On our return to Beaufort, we learned further particulars of this frightful affair in the field, which were eventually fully confirmed.

The sorrowing comrades of these poor officers have raised a monument to their memory, on the site of the General's camp on the Conga [see Appendix I].

The following particulars, extracted from the "Cape Frontier Times,"

correspond so entirely with the information I received from Sir George Berkeley himself, from Colonel Somerset, and other private sources, that I subjoin them in preference to writing my own impressions on the subject.

A most magnificent view of the adjacent country, from a peninsula stretching out upon the Kei, had tempted some of the officers of the General's camp to form a plan for visiting it. The day before they started on this expedition, Captain Baker, of the 73rd, dined with Sir George Berkeley, who told me that had he known the intention of these ill-fated men to visit a locality so far from the camp, so thickly wooded and precipitous, he would not have permitted their departure.

Captain Faunee, and Lieutenant Nash, 73rd, were to have accompanied the party, but happily their duties prevented them from doing so, Lieutenant Littlehales started with them, but, rain coming on, and having a severe cold, which he was unwilling to increase in the field, he turned back.

In the evening of Sat.u.r.day, the 13th of November, "he became alarmed at the absence of his brother officers; and, half-an-hour afterwards, Captains Somerset, Berkeley Seymour, (the General's Staff) and Captain Bisset, C.M.R., started in search of them, and descended into the bed of the river. It was dark, and they returned at two o'clock on Sunday morning, their search having been unsuccessful. Two hours afterwards, the same officers, with a company of the 73rd, took up the spoor of the missing officers again, and succeeded in finding the unfortunate men in a deep chasm near the river. They were all lying near each other. It is conjectured that they had all been to the top of the mountain, from which elevation they had been seen by the Kaffirs, who had posted a large body to intercept them on their return." Since the event, this has been ascertained to have been the case. "At this time, a large quant.i.ty of cattle was perceived going down to the Kei, with a number of the enemy; a dispatch was immediately sent back to the camp, and the party was reinforced by detachments from the head-quarter division, and Colonel Somerset's." The latter headed the people from his own camp.

After a night march of great fatigue, the troops were all anxiety for the attack: the 73rd were furious, and the sight of the dead bodies, stripped of everything, and with every proof about them of having fought desperately against the savages, enraged their brother soldiers more and more at every step they took.

The force selected for the engagement, consisted of a hundred and thirty of the Cape Mounted Riflemen, three hundred of a native levy, thirty or the 7th Dragoon Guards, and two hundred of the 73rd Regiment; there were also about eighty farmers: the native infantry were under the command of Captain Owen. When the dispositions for attack had been made, "the troops were formed into small divisions, and a point of attack a.s.signed to each. During these operations, the General and Staff climbed the Table Mountain, to the top, and Colonel Somerset endeavoured to cross a ford on the river; but, being baffled in his design, joined the General.

A number of cattle being descried in the bend of the Kei, Colonel Somerset, with his people, wound down a pa.s.s to reach them." The Kaffirs stood their ground here unusually well, but the 73rd dashed at them in gallant style, and soon dislodged them, while the Provisionals, Captain Hogg's levy, and the Cape Corps, pushed onwards for the cattle.

Colonel Somerset was busy exchanging shots with the enemy at one of their drifts, Lieutenant Macdonald, C.M.R., having been the first, with his detachment, to commence the attack at the river.

Before the engagement the troops had marched thirty miles. No great loss was sustained on the British side, and a great many Kaffir guns were taken. "Colonel Somerset," remarked the "Graham's Town Journal,"

"made an admirable disposition of the force under his command, and directed the whole movement with great skill. The General overlooked the whole affair, and is said to have expressed his satisfaction at the spirited and gallant manner in which the troops, and all who were engaged, behaved. The gallantry and activity of Colonel Somerset throughout the affair were conspicuous: directing, under the General, the whole of the operations below the mountain, he displayed the most perfect acquaintance with the habits of the enemy and the character of the country; he was to be seen at every point where danger presented itself, or direction was needed, and ably and zealously was he supported by every officer and engaged in one of the severest field-days ever experienced since the commencement of the present contest."

At least thirty Kaffirs were counted dead after this action; some of them wearing the clothes of the deceased officers. Mr Faunt's horse was captured in the fray, and poor Captain Baker's charger galloped into the camp, still saddled, and bleeding from an a.s.segai wound in its head.

Soon after this affair, Colonel Somerset succeeded in crossing the Kei, with the Cape Corps, and Captain Hogg's levy, all in light marching order, with supplies for five days. As soon as this force was on the other side of the river, Pato came back. Captain O'Reilly was then detached, with some of the Cape Corps, to look for him, when he again doubled, and escaped with a quant.i.ty of Colonial cattle; only four hundred being captured in the course of these operations.

Umhala was suspected of sheltering Pato's people and the cattle; and afterwards, when disturbed on his location by the operations of the troops, he had the insolence to remonstrate on the inconvenience he was put to by being thus suspected. Such fallacious reasoning did not influence Colonel Somerset's plans. The craftiness of these Kaffirs is the most difficult thing possible to contend with. What, for instance, could be more cunning than Kreli's reply, when accused of sheltering Pato? "Colonel Somerset's commands," he said, "had forced Pato over the Kei into his (the Amaponda) country, and so precipitately that the stolen Colonial cattle had got mixed up with Kreli's in the pasture-ground. Now," said Kreli, "this could not have been so, had Pato come hither with my permission, as, in that case, I should have separated my cattle from his." He also begged to know on what authority the British Government had decided that he had sheltered Pato. He was told, in reply, that the information had been received from certain Kaffir prisoners, whose names, however, were unknown; whereupon his councillors answered, "You, Colonel Johnstone (27th), and the Governor, and Somerset, and Stockenstrom, and Kreli, are great men, and are you going to settle an important national question, upon the report of prisoners of whom you know nothing?" Certainly a Kaffir would puzzle Lord Brougham himself, by his plan of meeting cross questions with crooked answers.

Note 1. The poison used by the Bushmen is extracted from the serpent's bag, from the root of the agapanthus, lily, and other plants.

Note 2. Captain Baker, Lieutenant Faunt, Ensign Burnop, and Surgeon Campbell, all of the 73rd, and a.s.sistant-Surgeon Loch, 7th Dragoon Guards.

PART TWO, CHAPTER NINETEEN.

ARRIVAL OF SIR HARRY SMITH.

On the 1st of December, 1847, Sir Harry and Lady Smith, with his Excellency's staff and suite, landed at Cape Town, amid the acclamations and rejoicings of a.s.sembled thousands. I have already alluded to Lady Smith as "once the favourite of the African Frontier;" and, at a public a.s.sembly. Judge Menzies welcomed the arrival of the Governor and Lady Smith, by proposing a toast, not to "His Excellency and his Lady," but to "Harry Smith and his Wife." On all sides their return was hailed with joy; but, as the colonists are too apt to be guided by results rather than motives, it is better not to dwell on this reception.

Sir Henry Pottinger left Graham's Town, under a salute of guns from the batteries, on the 16th of December, and Sir George Berkeley followed on the 17th. The great event of the day was the entree of Sir Harry Smith.

The shops were closed, every one made holiday, triumphal arches were erected, surmounted by inscriptions proclaiming welcome to the new Governor and old friend. The very _bonhommie_ with which Sir Harry had met his old acquaintances--even an old Hottentot serjeant, with whom he shook hands on the road--procured for him a ready popularity ere he entered Graham's Town.

At Sidbury, within thirty miles of the town, Sir Henry Pottinger and his successor had a short conference. There is no doubt the latter had brought his instructions from the Colonial Office with him; but the meeting between two such men, and the conference on the destinies of South Africa, at a scattered village on the borders, must have been connected with singular and interesting a.s.sociations.

From Port Elizabeth to Graham's Town one scene of joy and welcome presented itself. Soon after landing at the former place, his Excellency made his appearance before a throng of spectators, amongst whom he recognised the Chief Macomo. At sight of him, Sir Harry drew his sword half way from the scabbard, held it thus for a minute, and drove it back again with an expressive gesture of anger and scorn; at which Macomo shrank back, and the crowd laughed. His Excellency afterwards saw Macomo, whom he bitterly upbraided for his treachery, and derided for his folly. As he uttered his reproaches, he ordered him to kneel prostrate before him, which he did, unwillingly enough. "This,"

said Sir Harry Smith, placing his foot on the neck of the conquered savage, "this is to teach you that I have come hither to teach Kaffirland that I am chief and master here, and this is the way I shall treat the enemies of the Queen of England."

On the 17th, as we watched the rockets ascending, and the lights flas.h.i.+ng from one end of Graham's Town to the other, I could not help comparing the circ.u.mstances of last year with the present. Then all was gloom, save when the fires on the hill-tops telegraphed mischief between the Kaffirs. Now, beacons blazed, the silent heralds of glad tidings; the very Fingo kraals adjacent to the town sent forth shouts, and torches flitted from hut to hut. Amongst all this stir, there is something interesting in recording where Sir Harry Smith was, and how he was employed, during the rejoicings of the excited populace. Long before the lights were extinguished, he was up and at work. Three o'clock on the morning of the 16th found him at his desk, which he scarcely left till five in the evening. Amid all the din of these rejoicings for the hero of Aliwal, Colonel Somerset, having conquered the I'Slambies, and delivered Pato into his Excellency's hands, quietly rode into town, unnoticed, but not forgotten by those who, eighteen months before, looked to him for protection and a.s.sistance. [See Appendix I.]