“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.