The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in Kaffirland

“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.

Chapter VIII.

Expedition across the Kei

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 up18. 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 woman19. 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 Rifles20, 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.