The stars were still bright in the heavens, and the grey dawn of day had not yet appeared in the east, when the camp at Burns Hill was once more astir with the final preparations for the march to Chumie Hoek; and so soon as the waggons were ready and the draught cattle inspanned, the troops paraded without blast of bugle or beat of drum, and the order to form column-of-route was given. The advance-guard moved off just as the morning broke, and was presently followed by the long train of bullock-waggons—one hundred and twenty in number—and the guns and caissons of the Royal Artillery; but the day had “begun its broiling course” before the rear-guard, of which Jamieson’s Horse formed part, was clear of the camping ground.
As daylight grew more distinct, thousands of Caffre warriors were descried pouring down from the mountains; and it became palpable to all concerned that the way would be disputed by a determined and—so far as numbers went—an overwhelming force.
Said old Captain Jamieson, as he brought his glass to bear on the distant hordes, “Mark my words, G—! the 18th April will become famous in the annals of South African warfare. Those fellows yonder mean business; they have no doubt been excited to the verge of madness by their witch doctors, and will attack us with maniacal fury.”
“We shall have hard work to get through them,” the major replied, somewhat gloomily, for he felt much his responsibility; “and I fear many a good soldier amongst us will never see another sunrise. Still, were it not for the ‘impedimenta,’ I would not mind encountering double the number; and if we could only get them in the open for half an hour our cavalry should read them a lesson they’d never forget—a lesson that should be handed down to posterity! But I must move on to the front. Au revoir, Jamieson! I trust we shall meet again at Chumie Hoek before many hours have passed.”
The road by which the convoy was to march followed the bank of the Keiskamma for some two or three miles; until the river, suddenly changing its course by a sharp bend to the right, swept round a rocky eminence upon which stood the ruins of a long-abandoned military post known as Fort Cox. At the base of this eminence (which the road traversed before it again met the Keiskamma at the drift or ford) the way led for nearly a half mile up a precipitous ascent, encumbered with huge boulders, and surrounded by bush.
It was at this point that the Caffre chiefs massed their eager warriors for the attack on the baggage-train.
The leading division of waggons, which carried the “impedimenta” belonging to Colonel Somerset’s column, were so admirably defended by G—n’s advanced-guard and their own escort, that they passed up this dangerous ground without disaster, and descending to the drift (which was held by a squadron of the Cape Mounted Rifles, under Lieutenant Bissett) (General Sir John Bissett, K.C.B., author of Sport and War in South Africa) crossed over the Keiskamma. This part of the train subsequently reached the camp at Chumie Hoek in safety; its rear being covered by Bissett’s riflemen, who, after the passage of the river was effected, were relieved at the ford by Major G—n’s advanced force. But the journey between the ford and Chumie Hoek was not made without opposition, for there was some very hard fighting all through the bushy country, and several of the escort were killed and wounded; Mr Bissett himself had a narrow escape of his life, his charger being shot under him, and his rifle knocked to pieces in his hands.
The centre division of the convoy—consisting principally of the baggage-waggons of the 7th Dragoon Guards—did not meet with similar good fortune; for the enemy attacked the escort with such impetuosity and in such overwhelming numbers, that the latter was compelled to fall back on the troops in the rear, and so the whole of the waggons were captured. To make matters worse, this disaster occurred in a narrow part of the road, and the wily Caffres immediately freed the teams from the yokes, overturned several of the waggons, and so completely blocked the way for the rest of the train.
By this time Colonel Somerset had despatched every man he could spare out of camp to Major G—n’s assistance; namely Sutton’s Kat River Burghers, and two companies of the 91st Regiment, under Captain Scott; but the enemy continued to come up to the attack in such astonishing force that the major was reluctantly compelled to abandon the baggage-waggons of the 7th Dragoon Guards (fifty-two in number) in order that he might have more men to defend the guns and ammunition train, which he was determined to save at all hazards.
Leaving the waggons to their fate, Major G—n made a détour to the left along the bushy slope, and having fought his way across the Keiskamma he entered a valley at the foot of the Seven Kloof Mountain.