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Chapter XI.
Appointment of Sir Henry Pottinger

The expedition across the Kei was still the theme of expectation during the month of December, 1846. Sir Andries Stockenstrom’s command of the Burgher Forces had been deputed to Captain Sutton, Cape Mounted Rifles, who was to proceed across the Kei in the intended foray.

At this time I wrote in my journal, “This is certainly an extraordinary warfare. The enemy are coming into our camps eighty at a time, enrolling themselves as British subjects, and obtaining cattle, which they assert to be their own, and even horses; while we are marching troops into Kaffirland, seizing plunder and meeting with little open resistance, but running the chance of being murdered, as the Cape Corps soldiers, were, in the hut. It is certainly very difficult to understand.

“The attention of the public has been lately called to an article in the Leeds Mercury, asserting that ‘the present war has been forced upon the British Government by the settlers.’ Now, this assertion of a ‘correspondent of undoubted veracity,’ that ‘the colonists have tormented the Governor into this war,’ and that they ‘thirst for Kaffir blood,’ is vicious in its purpose, and utterly opposed to truth. The colonists have lived in alarm and uncertainty for ten years. Waste of time and property have never been considered, and many lives have been sacrificed on both sides in consequence of the aggressions of the border tribes on the unprotected farmers! No other nation than England would have permitted her settlers to bear the insults and depredations suffered by British emigrants at the hands of these heathen robbers, who have been permitted to arm themselves and to make every preparation for war during a period of three years, and this in the ceded territory between Kaffirland and the colony. Those who assert that the present Kaffir war has not been forced upon the British Government by the Kaffirs, are the enemies of their countrymen, and no friends to the heathen. We have too long attempted to civilise him by indulgent measures, and have not even established such laws for the security of the industrious settlers against the aggressions of these barbarous thieves, as would be considered necessary defences against any civilised Christian neighbours, whose characters and customs are opposed to our own. Sir Peregrine Maitland is the last man to allow ‘a people thirsting for blood’ to torment him into ‘deeds of violence;’ and, had not the colonists an implicit reliance on his justice, they might fear, from the present aspect of affairs, that his humanity might cause him to relax in his demands on the Kaffirs for compensation for cattle. They are at present, indeed, subdued by terror at the sight of our reinforcements, but are far from being humbled, or convinced: their humility is feigned, their apparent conviction and submission are exhibited in the sulkiest moods. I much doubt their system of non-resistance lasting beyond the season for gathering in their corn. However, as Talleyrand said of the Bourbons’ return, ‘C’est le commencement de la fin.’ Matters now must be brought to a close, not speedily, and perhaps not satisfactorily. Already the colonists say, ‘We shall have another war ten years hence.’ The military hoping to leave the Colony, rejoice in the prospect of home; those lately come out wear rueful countenances,—visions of solitary outposts, of commandos, of no society, of continued discomfort, disgust the young soldiers just arrived, and promise no good will in the performance of their duties.

“At Fort Hare, they are endeavouring to drive away ennui by hack races, or any kind of amusement which easily presents itself. The listlessness of a camp life is too often complained of to need comment. In this Colony it is worse than ever, since books are obtained with difficulty, And the heat and glare render the tent habitations very trying to the patience as well as to the constitution. The sight especially suffers, and several officers and men have been rendered incapable of duty from inflammation of the eyes.

“Macomo’s eldest daughter is the belle of the camp; she is one of nature’s coquettes, and attitudinises, exhibits her teeth, affects bashfulness, or mirth, as suits the taste of her admirers, and is as great an adept in the art of mute flirtation as any beauty at Almack’s, or Ascot.

“December 6th.—We hear that Umhala has come into Colonel Somerset’s camp, offering to give us three hundred head of cattle, and bring with him two hundred and fifty of his people, tendering his submission to Captain Maclean, late 27th Regiment, and now the Agent between the British Government and the I’Slambie tribes. His adhesion is accepted on the understanding that he can never be recognised as a chief, but merely as a Kaffir; that the British are not anxious for peace, unless arranged satisfactorily and honourably, that if he wishes for war he had better avow it honestly than propose terms which he may intend to violate, and that he had better now make his decision without duplicity. In reply to this, Umhala remarked that ‘the war had lasted too long, since the corps of the Kaffirs were suffering in consequence of the delay.’ Very cool! ‘His arms and those of his people had been left on the plains of the Gwanga! He had but two alternatives. One was to place himself at the Governor’s disposal, the other to be dependent on Kreli. He found he could depend upon the honour of the British! whereas he could not place confidence in any Chief of his own land!’ etc.

“After he and his people had been duly registered, they all moved over the Buffalo, and are to remain there until matters shall be more definitively settled.

“Umhala’s alternatives remind one of the choice of David, who preferred ‘falling into the hands of God rather than men.’ The cunning Kaffir knows that, by submitting to the British authorities, he yields to the humane influences of Christianity, whereas by giving himself and his people up to Kreli’s tender mercies they would, to use Umhala’s terms, ‘become the slaves (Fingoes) of the Amagalekas,’ or as some call them, the Ama Hintza tribe. The terrible Zoolahs also would assail them.

“The position of the Fingoes for many years, under their hard taskmasters the Kaffirs, reminds one forcibly of the Israelites under the Egyptians. Sir James Alexander, in his sketches, gives an animate description of the redemption of these unhappy slaves from their miserable bondage by Sir Benjamin D’Urban.”²³

“There is a report, from very tolerable authority, that Páto has come in contact with Kreli, and that both are disputing about the cattle. It is not unlikely that Kreli has coaxed, or at least tacitly encouraged Páto into his country, with a promise of protection after passing over the Kei. Kreli may even make a merit of giving up the treacherous Páto. These, however, are merely my own surmises. One thing must be apparent to every one who has the honour of our country at heart—Páto should never be admitted to terms by our Government; he should be hunted from our borders, and made to take his chance among the other tribes eastward of the Colony. To enrol him as a British subject would be a disgrace to the name of one.

“I must not forget to mention that on Umhala’s leaving the camp, after registering his name, it was ascertained that he and his people had abstracted several of the trek oxen belonging to the Government! What honourable subjects are these!

“The Rifle Brigade has been found a most efficient force on the frontier of South Africa; one hundred of them are to be mounted. The General finds it expedient to dispense with the Burgher forces, who will be permitted to return to their homes in February. The corps of liberated Africans, who have been chiefly employed on escort duty, have been asked if any of them will volunteer for the Cape Corps, but not even the promise of a horse and the appointments of a soldier, will tempt them to enlist. Some say, they would not mind returning to the frontier to serve, after having seen their families near Cape Town, but they object to the green jacket. Scarlet would be a greater temptation. These poor redeemed slaves display their joy at the prospect of a release from service, in dancing and singing. Unlike the war-dances of the Kaffirs and the Fingoes, theirs are slow and quiet, and regulated in their time by a small drum, or tom-tom, and another curious instrument of wood and wire, a rude imitation of the lute; indescribable, however, in appearance and sound, but requiring to be regularly tuned before using, like any other stringed instrument. While they move, or rather slide along the ground within a circle, they sing a monotonous air, containing only three or four notes.

“When I touched on the subject of the burial of a Malay some time since, I did not mention the custom of turning the face of a corpse towards Mecca, the Malays being strict Mahommedans. I should not have thought, perhaps, of inquiring about it, but that the question was asked me. I learn that the Malays are scrupulous with regard to this, regulating the arrangement by a compass, and making a strict allowance for the variation.

“One peculiarity of Africa has been singularly striking, during the continuance of this wretched war. I allude to the variety, consequently presented, of the coloured tribes. First, comes the stalwart Kaffir, with his powerful form and air of calm dignity, beneath which is concealed the deepest cunning, the meanest principles. Some call the Kaffir brave; he is a liar, a thief, and a beggar, ready only to fight in ambush; and although, to use the common expression, he ‘dies game,’ his calmness is the result of sullenness. Are such qualities consistent with bravery of character? Next to the Kaffir ranks the Fingo, differing from the Kaffir much as the Irish do from the English, being more mercurial, and less methodical. After these, may be named the Kat River Hottentots and the Griquas, half-castes between Dutch and English. The Hottentots, whom I have already described, are little appreciated, or even known in other countries. This war has proved that they make the most efficient soldiers for the service in which they have been engaged. The little stunted Bushmen, too, the real aborigines of the land, have assisted us with their poisoned arrows, and are a keen-witted race. Their talent for mimicry is well-known, a proof of their quickness of observation. The Malay may be considered naturalised in the Cape Town districts. The Africanders, a caste between the Malays and Europeans, with apparently a dash of Indian blood among them, are a remarkably handsome race; the women would make fine studies for Murillo’s beauties. Their hair is their chief ornament, and is of the deepest black. They take great pains in arranging it and twist it up quite classically at the back of the head, fastening the shining mass of jet with a gilt arrow, or a miniature spear.

“The Zoolahs, or Zooluhs, I have already spoken of. These are to the east, beginning some way beyond Kreli’s Country, and reaching to Natal Their great chief, Panda, is in constant communication with that dependency.

“Finally, we may name the West Coast Negroes, the liberated Africans, who have been trained, in a short space of time, into tolerable discipline. They have lately been brought to the Cape from Saint Helena, the latter place having been established as a depôt for these poor creatures, when rescued from their sea-prison by our vessels-of-war off the coast. None of them are ever willing to return to their own country, where they are liable to be seized, and made objects of traffic between their own people and the European slave-dealers.

“December 28.—As I write, this eventful year is closing in. The curtain is gradually falling on the scenes of the last nine months.”

“It is thought that this expedition over the Kei will be the last, and perhaps Kreli may make a merit of necessity, and give up Páto and his plunder. This latter, however, is only my own idea. Colonel Somerset, will follow up the enemy, as far as he is permitted to do so. At this period, while Kreli’s people are only waiting to reap their corn, it seems to me that it would have a good effect, to threaten the Chief with a march through his country in search of cattle, unless he exerts himself to restore what we know is either there, or has passed through it.

“The resources of the colony are open. We have troops, supplies, and some fresh horses. The Graham’s Town Journal of the 19th of December, has some remarks on the efficacy of sending a vessel to the mouth of the Umzimvooboo, in Amapondaland. ‘In one month,’ says the writer of this article, ‘the British flag may be floating at the mouth of the Umzimvooboo.’

“This river lies about midway between Graham’s Town and Port Natal, being, rather nearer to the latter place.

“While Colonel Somerset’s division is in preparation for another forward movement, the Government Agents are busy in registering black British subjects. The Kaffirs see that it is to their interest to make peace for the present. They will apparently submit to any terms we may dictate, but no matter what promises they may make, or what guarantee for future good behaviour they may give, their promises are written upon sand, and their bond is insecure, because void of all honour. Thieves and liars they will remain, until some system is established to overcome their heathen customs, and subdue their vicious natures. Whether the proposed system be available for these purposes, can only be judged of by the result.

“Sir John Malcolm, in his ‘Central India,’ says there is no other way of converting heathens than by beginning with children; the prejudices of the old ones are too strong to be eradicated. Sir James Alexander makes a remark to the same effect, and in no country can there be greater proof of it than in this.

“I yesterday happened to open ‘The Report of the Directors to the fifty-first General Meeting of the London Missionary Society, on the 15th of May, 1845,’ and in a notice from King William’s Town, find these words in conclusion: ‘Jan Tzatzoe and the other native assistant have made extensive journeys through the year, for the purpose of diffusing the name of Christ and the knowledge of his salvation.’ My first impulse was to laugh, knowing that Jan Tzatzoe, the propagator of Christianity in 1845, has been foremost in the mischief of 1846; but it is melancholy to think how we have been imposed upon. The very writer of the report probably considered Jan Tzatzoe in earnest. It is hard to accuse others of deliberate mis-statements, unless their motives are fully proved. Jan Tzatzoe has also had the advantage of religious instruction in England, having been exhibited there as a Christian Kaffir a few years ago!

“December 29th.—Intelligence has been received from Colonel Somerset’s division, which is moving along the sea-coast. He has captured two hundred and sixty head of cattle from the I’Slambies. Sir Peregrine Maitland had come up with the second division, and would cross the Kei at Warden’s Post on the 21st of December. Colonel Somerset would proceed by the mouth of the Kei, and the two divisions would meet at Butterworth, the missionary station between the river and Kreli’s kraal. The whole country is said to be teeming with cattle. There have been some encounters between the Burgher patrols and the cattle-stealers, and a Hottentot Burgher was shot last week at Kaffir drift.

“More mule-waggons have passed up the hills to-day, with provisions for the troops. How invaluable would be the camel in this country! Some object to the use of it, in consequence of the moist state of the country after severe rains; but the slow-moving oxen, with the heavy waggons, are often detained for weeks. The camel, by its swift pace and its strength for burden, would soon make up for time lost by casualties. The latter animal, too, would always thrive on the food from the bush, and would have less need of water than the ox. I heard an officer of well-known intelligence and keen observation remark how useful elephants might be made in such warfare; the bush would afford them provision, and a howdah, filled with armed men, and placed on an elephant’s back, would make a splendid portable battery for the low jungle of Africa.

“The troops cross the various rivers in boats, which they carry with them. There must be something very imposing in the sight of an armed force, varying in numbers from two to four thousand men, moving along these vast wilds by moonlight; but choosing such paths as shall screen them from the spies, who lie in wait to bear intelligence back to the enemy, and give warning of the approach. In these wilds will be found much grander scenery than in the colonial districts. Here the grass is richer, the trees are of a superior height, the rivers clearer, the mountain slopes more abundantly clothed, sometimes with vast forests, and the valleys are more fertile. Here the Hottentots, Kaffirs, and Fingoes dwell amid the finest pasturage, and in the most healthy part of the country.

“December 31st.—New Year’s Eve! Home! Home! Where are the happy faces I have seen gathered round the cheerful hearth long years ago? How often, as I look back on past years, am I reminded of Mrs Hemans’s ‘Graves of a household!’ We are sundered—scattered far and wide. One who returned to us, after long years of absence in the service of his country, found his grave at last in Canada. Another moulders on the rock of Saint Helena, snatched away in the bloom of life by the ruthless hand of consumption. One has been called by duty to the shores of the Mediterranean; another has returned to England, debilitated by the climate of the West Indies; and even the sisters from that ‘household hearth,’ to which I turn with sad remembrance, are, with two exceptions, suffering from the vicissitudes of a military life. Vicissitudes, trials, privations!—these are indeed to be found in Africa, and in the space of four years I have suffered from the horrors of shipwreck and of war.

“A strange wild sound of music comes up across the green from the barracks, and the moon is just old enough to shed her tender light upon a group of Malays, who, in their picturesque dresses, are marching to the measured beat of a drum of their own making, and the sounds of several rude flutes, clarionets, and horns, shaped hurriedly from the bamboo, but emitting not unpleasant music, in most perfect time. This is the peculiar feature in the talent for harmony displayed by the Hottentots and Malays: no matter how rude the instrument, or how poor the voice, tune and time are perfect. The old Irish air of ‘Garryowen’ has a strange effect played by this untutored band, their rude instruments assisted by voices of many kinds, from the deepest bass to the highest soprano. And now their war-song!—what a fine wind-up, with its curious combinations that sound scientific, and yet have no musical grammar in them! It is over, and the air is still again. There is the tramp of their feet over the parade-ground, and—oh, poesy! oh, heroism!—they have changed their solemn tread for a quick march, and their stirring war-song for the lively Polka!”

“There is as much trouble here as ever, and less excitement. The registered subjects of British Kaffiraria have taken to robbing orchards, while idling in search of plunder, coolly acknowledging their purpose, producing their registration tickets, and offering as a reason—for it cannot be called an excuse—that ‘the English have taken their cattle from them, and they want them back again.’

“January 1, 1847.—At Fort Hare, the registration system proceeds as usual. Macomo, in a fit of wilfulness, took his departure from thence a few days ago, with a single follower; and, being traced to Fort Armstrong, not far from the Tarka Post, has been detained there. A letter from the Commanding Officer of a large division on the Kei says, ‘There is still much work before us; the patrol is back, bringing in about four thousand five hundred head of cattle. Colonel Somerset, and a party of the Cape Mounted Riflemen, are gone on towards Butterworth. One of the Rifle Brigade is killed, and another wounded, in crossing the Kei drift; about fifty Kaffirs are killed. The Camp will break up to-morrow, and next day cross the Kei, and join Colonel Somerset. The natives are determined to show fight. They walked away with three span of oxen this morning; however, they were hotly pursued, and all but five had been recaptured. They were in numbers, challenging our people to come on,’ etc.

“This day brings the unexpected intelligence of Sir Henry Pottinger’s appointment to the Governorship of the Cape of Good Hope. The Home Authorities have doubtless seen how impossible it is for a man of Sir Peregrine Maitland’s great age to undergo even the physical toil attendant upon a government of so vast a tract of country; and, when it is also considered that, in consequence of the distance of Cape Town from the frontier, Sir Peregrine was prevented from appearing on the scene till the conclusion of the first great act of the war, every one will be sensible of the immense difficulties with which he has had to contend. Every one is assured that Sir Peregrine Maitland has acted honourably, conscientiously, and disinterestedly throughout the war; and, in leaving the frontier of South Africa, he bears with him the acknowledgements of the colonists, whom he has done his best to serve, and the earnest respect of the troops, whose toils and privations he has patiently shared, and to whom he has been an example of British courage, perseverance, and true nobility of principle.

“January 18th.—The mournful news has just been received of the murder of three officers and four soldiers, by Kaffirs, on the banks of the Kei. They lost their lives in the following manner:—They belonged to a party sent to guard a drift at the Kei, and, having been some days without meat where they were, a patrol went in search of some, and, seeing cattle at a distance, those mounted, namely, the three officers (namely, Captain Gibson and Dr Howell, Rifle Brigade; and the Hon. Mr Chetwynd, 73rd Regiment), and four provisional Hottentots, went in advance, leaving the infantry, about forty men, some way behind them; they had secured some cattle, and were returning, when a horde of Kaffirs rushed from a neighbouring kloof and overpowered the party, killing the officers and two of the Hottentots. The infantry were too far away to be of any assistance. On reaching the spot where they expected to find the officers, not a trace of them was to be seen, nor were the bodies found for two days after the event. The three murdered officers died nobly. They made a stand at once on the approach of the treacherous enemy from his lair. Dr Howell’s horse fell wounded at the first fire, and the others, determined not to desert him, fought by his side till their ammunition was expended. The remaining Hottentots gave information, after their escape through the bush, of the scene of strife, and the bodies were sought for. There were at first some rumours of mutilation, but there is scarcely a doubt now of their having been shot dead at once. Mr Chetwynd received a ball through his heart, and Captain Gibson had no less than six gun-shot wounds.

“Ten miles beyond the Kei, these brave spirits now lie at rest. Beside a spot called Shaw’s Fountain, they were buried by their sorrowing comrades. Far from the habitations of the white man are their simple graves; no monument marks the burial-ground in the mighty wilderness, but the memory of these gallant spirits is embalmed the breasts of their fellow soldiers, and their lonely abiding places in the far desert will be henceforth hallowed spots in an enemy’s country.

“The act by which they fell a sacrifice to savage treachery was an imprudent one, but they were ‘strangers in the land,’ and knew not that it is a common trick of the Kaffirs to show cattle at the edge of the bush, and lie in wait.” (See Appendix.)