Part 2, Chapter IV.
A “Commando.”
The even tenour of our life at Fort Peddie has just been diversified by a “foray” into the lands of a redoubtable cattle-stealer of the I’Slambie tribe, named Tola, against whom repeated complaints had been made by the settlers in various parts of the district of Lower Albany, of depredations committed on their farms, and among their cattle. The Lieutenant-Governor resolved on sending a body of troops against him, in order to rescue the stolen cattle, and break up that chief’s government and tribe. Before, however, the troops had assembled at the rallying-point, Fort Willshire (Note 1), Tola had sent the plunder away either into the interior of Kaffirland, with his wives, children, and people, or into secluded kloofs, under the care of herds belonging to the tribes of some of those very chiefs who acted as allies and guides to the British troops on the occasion. There stood the offender’s kraal consisting of scattered and empty huts, and there was the “grand army,” (upwards of five hundred strong) in array against “Tola’s country;” while Tola himself was taking an occasional peep at the proceedings from his lurking-places in the bush, smiling, no doubt, at so many of Her Majesty’s soldiers being sent out to hunt him,—he—a Kaffir Chief—on his own wild ground, in many places inaccessible to European infantry, or Hottentot cavalry!
At first setting out on the “Commando,” as the campaigns are called, the affair promised to be pleasant enough; the weather was delightful, though the month of June is our first winter month here. One company of the 91st had obeyed orders to the letter of the law, and had taken the field in “light marching order:” but the rest had a certain number of waggons and tents, and it was amusing to see the comforts with which some had surrounded themselves—canteens, easy chairs, bedsteads, tables, mats, cooking utensils, etc. These resolved on making the best of the matter, turning what at first appeared a warlike expedition into a pic-nic party; though others were content to lie in the bush, and fare no better than the men they commanded.
Never, however, had been seen such times of marching, counter-marching, bivouacking, and eating and drinking, since the days when the City Train Bands and the Westminster Volunteers were called into active service on Wimbledon, Kennington, and Clapham Commons, where they encamped to little purpose, except to eat sandwiches, and drink the King’s health in “London particular.” About a fortnight after the troops had assembled at Willshire, a division of them, consisting of upwards of two hundred of the 91st, and the same number of the Cape Corps, were ordered to Fort Peddie, to halt and refresh themselves; but the springs, owing to the want of rain, were nearly dry (and a sentry is always placed on the principal tank at Peddie (Note 2)); so the 91st remained in the neighbourhood of the kraal belonging to Eno, a dependent chief of the Gaika tribe, and the Cape Corps came on. There was brack (salt) water enough for the horses.
Sunday was spent peacefully at Peddie, and on Monday morning, June 6th, 1843, as the two corps were to meet six or seven miles from the post, I was induced to ride out, with another lady and a party, to the rendezvous. Although I by no means think the head of a brigade in array for the field an eligible place for ladies in general, my friend and I did not regret having yielded to the various solicitations, that we should proceed a little further with the expedition, which had no chance of becoming in reality a warlike one.
The morning resembled the one I have described in my account of Umhala’s affair. Certainly a South African morning is incomparably beautiful. The want of rain had taken from the turf much of its freshness; still, the mimosa is always green, and the perfume of its bright yellow blossoms most delicious. We kept to the grass, smooth as velvet, and gently undulating here and there, with wooded kloofs to the right and left of us; while the Cape Corps, in dusky array, filled the high-road. Nothing can be more efficient than the appearance of the Hottentot soldier, though I confess to laughing heartily at one or two immediately in advance of us.
There he is, in his bush-coloured jacket, clay-coloured leather trousers, seated on his sturdy little steed, as though nothing had ever parted, or could ever part, the horse and his rider. Before him, on his light dragoon saddle, is rolled his cloak; behind him, his blanket, corn-sack, and nose-bag; a slight change of shoes, trousers, etc, is carried, in the haversack in light marching order, and in a valise on other occasions. His double-barrelled percussion carbine, wrapped in sheepskin, rests its muzzle in a holster adapted for the purpose; and across his shoulder is slung his belt, a pouch containing twenty rounds of ammunition, and, occasionally, a canteen. When it is remembered that the average height of a Hottentot soldier is five feet one, and that he is slight in proportion, it may be imagined what a figure he cuts when accoutred for the field; but he is the most efficient soldier for this colony for all that. He is keen-witted and intelligent, patient of hunger, thirst, and fatigue, active as a monkey, and possessed of a perfect knowledge of the country, and occasionally of the Kaffir language. Add to this, the officers of this corps have either been long residents in the colony, or are the sons of people who have known no other home for many years. Fit commanders, then, are they for such troops.
Over the turf we cantered, the delicious air imparting spirits to ourselves and to our steeds, and, as we advanced, we left the green-jackets winding along the road behind us, while down between two green hills came the 91st, the shrill bagpipes sounding strangely indeed among these far plains and echoing valleys of Africa. Here we all halted for a few minutes, till I was persuaded to go on to the banks of the Keiskama, where one party was to encamp for some time, and the other to bivouac and dine, previously to crossing the river into Kaffirland. Our little private party then proceeded, with those who were to take up the ground for the encampment. A beautiful spot was selected; nothing could be more picturesque. On a mound, commanding an extensive view of the country, the 91st were to establish themselves. Up the hill followed the division of the red-jackets, a long line of waggons, camp sutlers, Fingoes, Commissariat people, servants, led horses, etc, bringing up the rear. In a few moments, the white tents dotted the ground; fires were lit, and, in an incredibly short time, there was savoury evidence of carbonatje. My head ached with the fatigue of the ride, and, perhaps, the excitement of the scene; but that was nothing. A table was spread for me near a kindly bush, and a breakfast that would have satisfied an epicure craved attention. I rejoiced over some deliciously-made coffee, and then took a survey of the scene beneath. On a beautiful and level plain the Cape Corps had bivouacked: some lounged and slept in the centre of the square which had been formed by piling each man’s saddle, blanket, etc; others snatched their hastily-cooked meal near a cluster of bushes. The laugh of the merry-makers ascended gaily up the hill, and the brazen call of the trumpet, or bugle, was given back by the echoes from the tall grey rocks bounding the opposite side of the Keiskama, whose quiet waters glided peacefully on under the shadow of overhanging boughs on one side, and on the other stately cliffs variegated with mimosas and euphorbias. On its green banks reclined a crowd of Fingo warriors, in their war attire of plumes, assegais, shields of bullock-hide, and their karosses draped gracefully round them. The chiefs wore tiger-skins. Indolent they looked, basking in the sunshine, smoking dagha, the seed of a kind of wild hemp, having much the same effect as opium on the senses. In the field these people are useful assistants, and most formidable opponents to their former severe taskmasters, the Kaffirs. Their rain-makers and doctors cut a conspicuous and grotesque figure, with their strange fantastic head-dresses of jackal’s and monkey’s tails. The mischief these wretches do I have already described.
Presently, the quiet of the scene was disturbed; the trumpet of the Cape Corps gave forth its brazen signal to upsaddle; men and horses were soon in their ranks; few waggons were were in the train of this corps, so accustomed to the field, and so fitted to its duties; and, ere half an hour had elapsed, the ground, which had presented so animated an appearance, was unoccupied. The sound of the Keiskama’s gently flowing waters remained undisturbed, the Fingo phalanx had moved onwards, and the little mound on which the 91st were encamped, formed a lively contrast to the profound repose of the valley below. As the afternoon advanced, we too thought of upsaddling and away.
Writers are often accused of “inventing a moonlight” on occasion; but I protest that in many of our rambling expeditions here, the moon has especially favoured us. Indeed, we seldom ventured to make excursions in this country of early sunsets and no twilight, without the prospect of a moon for our homeward ride at night. We left the camp at three o’clock; and, as we proceeded from the spot, we looked back. We could now see both parties; the white tents and scarlet jackets of the 91st, and the long array of the Cape Corps, which, having crossed the Keiskama, was now wending its way into Kaffirland. The evening air was growing chilly, and we were fain to advance instead of glancing back. When we reached the missionary station, within four miles of Peddie, we found that the hospitable family there had been watching our approach, for their table was spread with goodly refreshment, and never was poor creature more grateful for anything than was I for Mrs Tainton’s fragrant cup of tea, so kindly and readily bestowed.
It must be observed that the troops crossed the Keiskama entirely with the nominal concurrence of the chiefs, with the exception of Sandilla, as they affected to be much annoyed at Tola’s continued contempt of the treaties, and his repeated inroads on the property of the colonists. It has since been proved, as might have been expected, that, while the chiefs were accompanying the troops into the field, they were constantly misguiding them, and giving them wrong information relative to the cattle.
The troops were soon afterwards dispersed; some went back to Graham’s Town, some to lonely outposts, and some to Beaufort; all very tired of the business, and some seriously ill, from sleeping in the bush at the end of the “campaign,” when the rain fell in torrents, and the ground was saturated. Great part of the cattle was rescued by the Fingoes, who came into Peddie in phalanx, singing their song of triumph, a low, deep, solemn chant, each voice modulated to the others, in perfect unison. Their appearance was indeed warlike. It is worthy of remark, that while the colony remained in this unsettled state, the Kaffir and Fingo women went about armed with assegais.
The crossing of the Keiskama gave great offence to Sandilla, the son of Gaika, and head of the tribe. Yet, what could be done? Not only had the greater number of the chiefs agreed to it, but some of the cattle had been traced, and it was necessary to rescue it: but this was more proposed than done, and the most provoking feature in the case was, that while we permitted the Kaffirs to occupy the ground they held on sufferance, they took advantage of the indulgence to plunder the settlers.
From this time till war was proclaimed in 1846, the colonists were engaged in perpetual warfare with the tribes. The farmers could not stir without arms; murder stalked through the highway in open day, robberies were too common to be always recorded, and Commandos were marched through the country to punish recreant chiefs; but the latter invariably eluded the troops and escaped with the cattle.
The Dutch, who had long been discontented, declared their intention of breaking beyond the boundary; but the English settlers were anxious to “hope against hope,” and, on the arrival of Sir Peregrine Maitland in 1844, who came with authority to improve the system of public finance, their drooping spirits revived, and in the spirit of unshaken loyalty they placed the most favourable construction on every step proposed to avert those calamities which subsequently overwhelmed them.
Note 1. A fort on the banks of the Keiskama, once in the occupation of the English, but given up to the Kaffirs by the last treaties, when the Great Fish River was established as the boundary. It is now defaced, little being left to mark its site, the Kaffirs having been permitted to carry away the wood-work of the buildings, which originally cost at least 50,000 pounds.
Note 2. In building the new barracks at Peddie, pipes have been placed along the roofs, for the purpose of collecting water in the rainy season. This is a great advantage to the residents, who hitherto have been dependent on tanks and flays (hollows in the earth, which are filled by heavy rains).