Mr Cole makes some sensible suggestions for averting future wars with the Kafirs, and securing the tranquillity of the colony. Whilst justly disapproving certain points of the constitution tardily granted to the Cape, he admits it to be a great improvement upon the present state of things.
"When the Cape colonists," he says, "commence self-government, doubtless one of their first acts will be to embody a militia throughout the land. Every man in the country, between certain ages, will be a soldier, and the most fit and effectual soldier to contend with the savage enemies across the boundary. This will be, in effect, a revival of the old Dutch Commando system—a system, with all its faults, the most efficient in repressing the rapine and murder of the Kafirs, and under which no such war as the present could have originated."
The abolition of this system, which allowed the Dutch boers, when aggrieved or plundered by the Kafirs, to muster in bodies, recover their cattle by the strong hand, and chastise the robbers, has always been a subject of bitter complaint and discontent with the frontier farmers. They fear not the Kafirs, if they are but allowed to defend themselves and their property, and to retaliate with the strong hand. Give them thus much licence, and, says Mr Cole, "I have no hesitation in saying that the colonists of the border would very soon settle the Kafir question." Let it be clearly understood what the Cape "bush" is. It is a dense thicket studded with thorns, and impenetrable to persons in ordinary European garb. The Hottentots and colonists wear leather "crackers"—as breeches are called at the Cape—which in some degree protect them; and the Kafirs, naked and with their bodies greased all over—blest, besides, with thick skins—crawl through it on their bellies. Speaking of Fish River Bush, Mr Cole says:—
"One of the greatest benefits that could be conferred on the colony would be its entire destruction by fire. But I fear it will not burn; and so it will continue to harbour wild beasts in peace, and Kafirs in war time. All the Kafir nation could hide in it, and be out of sight and out of reach of English eyes and English bullets. At the first symptom of an impending attack on the colony, the report always flies like wild-fire, 'The Fish River Bush is full of Kafirs.'"
Then are sent out against these lithe and dusky savages, who can writhe like snakes through the underwood, and whose brown hide is scarce distinguishable from the tints of the rocks and branches, and aloe-stems amongst which they lurk, a party of red-coated Englishmen, to be shot down by invisible foes.
"A splendid target that same scarlet coat," exclaims Mr Cole. "Even when those bushes intervene, though you see not the man—neither his face, nor his shako, nor his trousers—yet there is the piece of scarlet cloth glaring through the boughs; take steady aim at that, for a soldier's heart beats behind it, and a bullet sent through the gaudy garment hurls one more shilling target to the dust."
Nearly six years ago, when the subject of military punishments was before Parliament, we proposed and urged certain reforms and ameliorations in the equipment of the army, some of which are now in process of adoption, whilst others, we have little doubt, will ere long be forced upon the authorities by public opinion and their manifest necessity. We then denounced scarlet, "first, because it is tawdry, and, secondly, as rendering the soldier an easier mark than a less glaring colour. Blue coats and grey trousers are the colours we should like to see adopted in our service, preserving always the green for the rifles, who ought to be ten times as numerous as they are, as we shall discover whenever we come to a brush with the Yankees, or with our old and gallant opponents, the French."[3]
Our troops, it is understood, are about to get the rifles; of the scarlet we hope soon to see them get rid. A very inferior foe to either American or Frenchman has sufficed to show the necessity of marching with the century, at least in matters military. The long guns of the naked Kafirs outshoot our regulation muskets; and earnest and unanswerable representations—amongst which must prominently be reckoned the able letters of that practical and experienced soldier, Sir Charles Shaw—have opened official eyes to the advantages of grooved barrels over smooth bores. Soon we hope to see scarlet replaced by a more rational and less brilliant colour, knapsacks lightened, and pipe-clayed belts abolished. We advocated blue for the soldier's dress, because tailors, professional and amateur, have still so potential a voice in our military councils, that we scarcely dare hope the adoption of less becoming tints; otherwise, grey, green, or brown mixtures, although not showy on parade, will be admitted by all military men who have seen service—especially skirmishing service in bush, mountains, or forest—to constitute by far the least visible uniform, and worst mark. In time, perhaps, these sober but service-like colours may be introduced. Perhaps, too, in time, the Horse Guards will discern the wisdom of keeping heavy cavalry for home parades, or European wars—should the latter unfortunately occur—and of sending the lightest and most lightly-equipped of their dragoons in pursuit of nimble savages, in colonies too distant to ship horses to, and where chargers, up to the weight of the men, are unobtainable.
"When the 7th Dragoon Guards came out to the Cape, they had considerable difficulty in horsing the regiment, though they took as low a standard as fifteen hands for their chargers. Even at this standard, the men in full dress, with their brass helmets, carbines and accoutrements, looked rather absurdly mounted, and reminded one forcibly of the hobby-horse figures in a Christmas pantomime."[4]
When we picture to ourselves these bravo "heavies"—so formidable if opposed to French or German dragoons—inefficiently floundering, on overweighted horses, through bush and brushwood, after the agile barbarians of South Africa, and when we contrast them with the really "light-horse" we have seen shipped from Provençal ports for service in Algeria, we cannot but admit, however unwillingly, that these things are better managed in France than on our side of the Channel. May it soon be otherwise!