Arrival of Sir Harry Smith.
On the 1st of December, 1847, Sir Harry and Lady Smith, with his Excellency’s staff and suite, landed at Cape Town, amid the acclamations and rejoicings of assembled thousands. I have already alluded to Lady Smith as “once the favourite of the African Frontier;” and, at a public assembly. Judge Menzies welcomed the arrival of the Governor and Lady Smith, by proposing a toast, not to “His Excellency and his Lady,” but to “Harry Smith and his Wife.” On all sides their return was hailed with joy; but, as the colonists are too apt to be guided by results rather than motives, it is better not to dwell on this reception.
Sir Henry Pottinger left Graham’s Town, under a salute of guns from the batteries, on the 16th of December, and Sir George Berkeley followed on the 17th. The great event of the day was the entrée of Sir Harry Smith. The shops were closed, every one made holiday, triumphal arches were erected, surmounted by inscriptions proclaiming welcome to the new Governor and old friend. The very bonhommie with which Sir Harry had met his old acquaintances—even an old Hottentot serjeant, with whom he shook hands on the road—procured for him a ready popularity ere he entered Graham’s Town.
At Sidbury, within thirty miles of the town, Sir Henry Pottinger and his successor had a short conference. There is no doubt the latter had brought his instructions from the Colonial Office with him; but the meeting between two such men, and the conference on the destinies of South Africa, at a scattered village on the borders, must have been connected with singular and interesting associations.
From Port Elizabeth to Graham’s Town one scene of joy and welcome presented itself. Soon after landing at the former place, his Excellency made his appearance before a throng of spectators, amongst whom he recognised the Chief Macomo. At sight of him, Sir Harry drew his sword half way from the scabbard, held it thus for a minute, and drove it back again with an expressive gesture of anger and scorn; at which Macomo shrank back, and the crowd laughed. His Excellency afterwards saw Macomo, whom he bitterly upbraided for his treachery, and derided for his folly. As he uttered his reproaches, he ordered him to kneel prostrate before him, which he did, unwillingly enough. “This,” said Sir Harry Smith, placing his foot on the neck of the conquered savage, “this is to teach you that I have come hither to teach Kaffirland that I am chief and master here, and this is the way I shall treat the enemies of the Queen of England.”
On the 17th, as we watched the rockets ascending, and the lights flashing from one end of Graham’s Town to the other, I could not help comparing the circumstances of last year with the present. Then all was gloom, save when the fires on the hill-tops telegraphed mischief between the Kaffirs. Now, beacons blazed, the silent heralds of glad tidings; the very Fingo kraals adjacent to the town sent forth shouts, and torches flitted from hut to hut. Amongst all this stir, there is something interesting in recording where Sir Harry Smith was, and how he was employed, during the rejoicings of the excited populace. Long before the lights were extinguished, he was up and at work. Three o’clock on the morning of the 16th found him at his desk, which he scarcely left till five in the evening. Amid all the din of these rejoicings for the hero of Aliwal, Colonel Somerset, having conquered the I’Slambies, and delivered Páto into his Excellency’s hands, quietly rode into town, unnoticed, but not forgotten by those who, eighteen months before, looked to him for protection and assistance. (See Appendix I.)
On his Excellency’s arrival at Government House, he sent for Sandilla, whom he addressed in severe terms. Sandilla, of course, admitted, in the old style, that he had been in error. On Sir Harry asking him who was now the “Inkosi Enkulu,” (Great Chief) of Kaffirland, he, after a pause, in true Kaffir style, and closely observed by his councillors, replied “Kreli.” At this Sir Harry broke forth, in terms of great anger. “No!” said the Governor, “I am your paramount chief—I am come to punish you for your misdoings—your treachery—and your obstinate folly. You may approach my foot and kiss it, in token of submission, but not until I see a sincere repentance for the past, will I permit you to touch my hand.”
Sandilla was released from confinement by Sir Harry’s order. Chieftainship, in a Kaffir sense, being abolished, and the ex-chiefs being invested with a sort of magisterial influence over their people, checked by British rule, a baton of office was sent to to be placed in the ground before his hut, side by side with the wand always planted there as a symbol of authority. His wand is surmounted by a cow’s tail, and marks the chief’s residence from the other huts of Kraal. The baton given by Sir Harry is a stick, with a brass knob at the top of it. A proclamation, dated the 17th of December, 1847, announced the Keiskama as the boundary of the Colony. The advantages of such a line of demarcation, I have before alluded to.
At noon, on the 20th, his Excellency was in the saddle, en route for King William’s Town, viâ Fort Hare and Post Victoria. He was accompanied by the heads of departments in general, and by his staff. At Fort Hare, the party was entertained at dinner by the officers of the 45th Regiment, and next day, proceeding to King William’s Town, breakfasted on the road in the Tyumie valley. At King William’s Town, Sir Harry had appointed a meeting of the Chiefs of Kaffirland, desiring them to obey him, or abide the consequences. They knew him too well to hesitate.
In the mean time, Páto, hearing that Colonel Somerset was again on the track in search of him, grew frightened; and, as this officer was en route with his force, the rebel savage sent his councillors, with an offer of five thousand head of cattle, and a promise of surrender, if his life might be spared.