The Settler and the Savage

by R. M. Ballantyne

“The Governor seems to have a special aptitude,” said Brook, with a clouded brow, “not only for framing foolish laws, but for abrogating good ones.”

The Governor referred to was Lord Charles Somerset, who did more to retard the progress of the new settlements on the frontiers of Kafirland than any who have succeeded him. Having complicated the relations of the colonists and Kafirs, and confused as well as disgusted, not to say astonished, the natives during his first term of office, he went to England on leave of absence, leaving Sir Rufane Shaw Donkin to act as Governor in his place.

Lord Charles seems to have been a resentful as well as an incapable man, for immediately after his return to the colony in 1821 he overturned the policy of the acting Governor, simply because he and Sir Rufane were at personal enmity. The colony at that time, and the Home Government afterwards, approved of the wise measures of the latter. He had arranged the military forces on the frontier so as to afford the new settlers the greatest possible amount of protection; the Cape corps men had been partly placed at their disposal, both to assist and defend; those who found their allotted farms too small, had them increased to the extent of the farms of their Dutch neighbours; acceptable public officers were appointed; provisions were supplied on credit, and everything, in short, had been done to cheer and encourage the settlers during the period of gloom which followed their first great calamity, the failure of the wheat-crops. All this was upset on the return of Lord Charles Somerset. With a degree of tyranny and want of judgment worthy of a mere “Jack-in-office,” he immediately removed from the magistracy of the British Settlement of Albany a favourite and able man, to make room for one of his own protégés and supporters. He withdrew troops from one of the most important frontier villages (in a strategic point of view), and stopped the formation of a road to it, thus compelling the settlers to desert it and leave their standing crops to the surprised but pleased Kafirs, who were perplexed as well as emboldened by the vacillating policy of white Governors! In addition to this he gave permission to the savage chief Macomo to occupy the land so vacated, thus paving the way for future wars. Instead of encouraging traffic with the Kafirs he rendered it illegal. He issued a proclamation forbidding all public meetings for political purposes; he thwarted the philanthropic and literary Pringle and Fairbairn in their attempts to establish a newspaper, and drove the former from the colony. But why proceed? We cite these facts merely to account for the cloud on Edwin Brook’s brow, and for the fact that at this time many of the British settlers, who would gallantly have faced the “rust” and other troubles and difficulties sent to them by Providence, could not bear the oppression which “driveth a wise man mad,” but, throwing up all their hopes and privileges as settlers, scattered themselves far and wide over the colony. This, as it happened, was much to the advantage of themselves and the old Dutch settlers with whom they mingled. Those of them who remained behind, however, continued to fight the battle against oppression and circumstances most manfully.

Long and patiently did Mrs Brook listen to her visitor and husband while they indignantly discussed these subjects.

“But why,” said she, at last giving vent to her feelings, “why does the Government at home not remove such an incapable and wicked Governor and give us a better?”

“Because, my dear,” replied Edwin, with a smile, “the incapable and wicked Governor happens to possess almost despotic power, and can gain the ear of men in high places at home, so that they are deceived by him, while all who venture to approach them, except through this Governor, are regarded with suspicion, being described as malcontents. And yet,” continued Brook, growing warm at the thought of his wrongs, “we do not complain of those at home, or of the natural disadvantages of the country to which we have been sent. We settlers are actuated by one undivided feeling of respect and gratitude to the British Government, which future reverses will never efface; but it is peculiarly hard to have been sent to this remote and inaccessible corner of the globe, and to be left to the control of one individual, who misrepresents us and debars us the right to express our collective sentiments. Why, we might as well be living under the dominion of the Turk. But a word in your ear, Frank Dobson; meetings have been held, private ones, while you were away in the bush, and our case has been properly represented at last, and a Royal Commission of Inquiry is to be sent out to put things right. So there’s hope for us yet! The clouds which have been so long lowering, are, I think, beginning to clear away.”

While the sanguine settler was thus referring to the clouds of adversity which had for more than two years hovered over the young settlement, the natural clouds were accumulating overhead in an unusually threatening manner. Long periods of drought are frequently followed in South Africa by terrible thunderstorms. One of them seemed to be brewing just then.

“I fear Hans and Considine will get wet jackets before they arrive,” said Frank Dobson, rising and going to the window.

“Hans and Considine!” exclaimed Gertie, with a flush; “are they here?”

“Ay, they came with me as far as Grahamstown on business of some sort.—By the way, what a big place that is becoming, quite a town! When we saw it first, you remember, it was a mere hamlet, the headquarters of the troops.”