[Illustration:
CAMP UNDER THE AMATOLAS.]
CAMPAIGNING
IN KAFFIRLAND
OR
Scenes and Adventures
IN
THE KAFFIR WAR OF 1851-2.
BY
CAPT. W. R. KING,
74TH HIGHLANDERS.
With Illustrations.
LONDON
SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET.
1853.
PREFACE.
The following pages make no pretension to a detailed history of the
military operations of the Kaffir War. Written during leisure hours, in
a lonely fort, or by the camp fire after the fatigues of the day, and
mainly embracing the movements of one Division only--often of a Single
Brigade or Corps--they attempt merely to convey a general idea of the
country, and of the scenes and passing events of the Campaign. Should
any comrade who shared its dangers and hardships peruse this account,
it is hoped he will also share the feeling which first prompted the
Author to record them in the Field and now to present the narrative to
the public--
"Hæc olim meminisse juvabit."
_Largs, November, 1853._
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
PAGE
Ordered to the Cape--Voyage Out--Bay of Biscay--Simon's Bay 1
CHAPTER II.
State of the Country on Arrival--Causes of War--Commencement of
Hostilities by Kaffirs--Defection of Hottentots--Outrages on
Settlers 7
CHAPTER III.
Landing--March up the Country--Coega River--Addo Bush--Quagga
Flats--Assegai Bush--Grahams Town--Insurrection at
Theopolis--Night March--Destruction of Rebel Camp--Route for
Kaffirland--Ecca Pass--Fort Brown--Waggon Driving--Fort Hare--Preparation
for the Field 18
CHAPTER IV.
Advance into Kaffirland--Camp at the Amatolas--Attack on the
Amatolas--Fort Beaufort--Yellow-Woods--Return to Fort Hare--Clu
Clu--Camp on the Koonap River--Waggon Escort--Sand
Storm 44
CHAPTER V.
Reit Fontein--March to Somerset--Klip Fontein--Night March to
Attack the Kromme--Bivouac on Kromme Heights--Standing
Camp--Escorting Commissariat Supplies--Action on the Kromme
Heights--Torture of Prisoners by Kaffirs--Witch Doctors--Return
to Fort Beaufort--Sickness among the Troops--The Route--Band
and Mess--Fingo Levies 75
CHAPTER VI.
Attack on the Waterkloof--Night Ascent of the Kromme--Engagement
on the Waterkloof Heights--Bivouac after the Fight--Descent
into Waterkloof Valley--Operations on the Heights--Halt
for Supplies 103
CHAPTER VII.
Fourth Attack on Waterkloof--Eve of the Attack--Advance of Colonel
Fordyce's Brigade--Burning Village--Difficulties of Ground--Advantages
of the Kaffirs--Fall of Lieut.-Col. Fordyce and Lieut.
Carey--Carrying Position--Kaffir Skirmishers--Bivouac on Mount
Misery--Transport of Wounded--The Funeral--Hospital--Death
of Lieuts. Gordon and Ricketts--Clearance of Waterkloof--Descent
from the Heights--General Orders--Sunday at Beaufort 142
CHAPTER VIII.
Cattle Lifting--Fingoes Feasting--Kaffir Habits and Religious
Notions--Language, Customs, Dress, Ornaments, Food, Weapons, &c. 161
CHAPTER IX.
Night Attack on Camp--Disposition of Troops on Frontier--Ride into
Beaufort--Ambuscade--Post Retief--Movements of General
Somerset--Sunday--Life at the Post--Visit to Dutch
Laagers--Patrols--Skirmish with Kaffirs under Macomo--Ruined
Settler--Deserted Farms--Dutch Hospitality--Vintage--Kaffir Night
Signals--Cobra Capello--Riding on the Veldt 173
CHAPTER X.
Kaffir Hiding-place--Bushman Paintings--Cattle
Stealing--Pursuit--Locusts--Fingo "Post Party"--Maize
Thrashing--Burning Plains--Success of Trans-Kei Expedition--Patrol
of Koonap District--Narrow Escape--Return to Fort 195
CHAPTER XI.
Destruction of Kaffir Crops--News from Head-Quarters--Reinforcements
from England--Wreck of the "Birkenhead"--Arrival of
Tylden's Detachment at Post--Preparations for Attack on
Waterkloof--Disposition of Troops--March--Skirmishing--Rifle
Shooting--Operations in Waterkloof--Taking of Macomo's
Stronghold--Dispersion of the Enemy--Visit from a friendly
Chief--Farewell of Sir H. Smith--Shelling the Kloofs--Chase after
Kaffirs--Porcupines--Blinkwater Camp--Bushneck Pass--Covering Rifle
Brigade--Public Funerals of Officers of 74th--Bivouac in
ruined House--Snakes--Escape from Kaffirs--Rifle Brigade
Camp--Attack on Captain Moody's Escort--Grahams Town--Lakeman's
Volunteers 208
CHAPTER XII.
Sixth Attack on Waterkloof--Movement of Troops--Peep into Kaffir
Village--Rainy Season--Fort Fordyce--Gallop after stolen Cattle--Quarters
at Beaufort--Movement against Kreli--Forelaying
Kaffir Pass--Ruins of Auckland--General Uithaalder and Staff--False
Alarm--Young Locusts--Deaths in Hospital--Return of
Kei Expedition 241
CHAPTER XIII.
Final Attack on Waterkloof--Ascent of Pass--Operations--Kaffir
Prisoners--Fingo Notions of Warfare--Bush Manoeuvres--Return
to respective Camps--Pig Stalking--Baboons--Reconnaissance
of the Ground of the Kromme Operations--Night Bivouac
on the top of the Kromme--Lieuwe Fontein and Life at a Frontier
Post--Cattle Raid--Puff Adder--Young Locusts--Fingo Fight 260
CHAPTER XIV.
Expedition across the Great Orange River against the Basuto Chief,
Moshesh--Object of Expedition--Preparations for the March--Fort
Armstrong--Elands Post--Tambookie Herdsmen--Kamastone--Twa
Taffel Berg--Vast Plains--Dutch Farm-house--Stormberg--Intense
Cold on the Mountains--Burghersdorp--Camp by Night--First
Sight of the Orange River--English Mail--Fishing in the
Caledon River--Herds of Wild Game--Wildebeest Hunt--Immense
Frogs--Return of a missing Officer--Dung Beetles--Platberg--Barolong
Chiefs--Interview with Moshesh--Ride
through Basuto Villages--Jerboas--Arrival of part of fine of
Cattle--Basutos--Action at Berea--Moshesh's Letter to the
Governor--Distribution of captured Cattle--Return of the Force 280
CHAPTER XV.
March down the Country--Christmas Day--Flocks of migratory
Storks--Herds of Game--Flood in the Orange River--Narrow
Escape in crossing--Return to the Colony--Fort Beaufort--Termination
of the War--Homeward Bound 321
LIST OF PLATES.
CAMP UNDER THE AMATOLAS _Frontispiece_
STORMING THE AMATOLAS p. 49
DEATH OF LIEUT.-COL. FORDYCE 146
BLINKWATER AND WATERKLOOF HEIGHTS 224
CROSSING THE ORANGE RIVER 295
CAMPAIGNING IN KAFFIRLAND.
CHAPTER I.
ORDERED TO THE CAPE--VOYAGE OUT.
The service companies of the 74th Highlanders were under orders to
sail from Cork for Gibraltar early in March, 1851. Our heavy baggage
had already been sent by a sailing vessel to anticipate our arrival,
H.M.S.S. "Vulcan" lay at Queenstown ready to take us on board, and
the all-engrossing topics were the cork-woods of Andalusia, yachting
in the Bay of Algesiras, or the chances of future quarters among the
olive-groves of Corfu; when, in consequence of tidings received by
government of the serious aspect of affairs in British Kaffraria, and
the urgent demands of Sir H. Smith for fresh troops, our orders were
suddenly countermanded, and, at three days' notice, we were steaming
out of harbour for the seat of the Kaffir war.
We weighed anchor on a bright Sunday morning, March 16th, after a
hasty scramble in the short time left us to lay in stores for the
additional length of voyage, and get an outfit of rifles, pistols,
saddles, and camp equipage; with a few shirts, boots, and other
articles for the use of the outer man, absolutely necessary to supply
the loss of our unlucky baggage, by that time some hundreds of miles
away in a different direction. No friends or relatives accompanied
us on embarkation to say farewell; no pressing of hands or waving
handkerchiefs. Lounging groups of Sunday-dressed sailors smoked
and looked on in indifference; the bells rang out merrily, and the
church-going crowds wended their way along the quiet sunny streets as
usual.
The sister service, however, bade us a hearty farewell; having got
steam up, and sails set, in less than forty minutes after the Admiral's
signal, three-times-three lusty cheers burst from the manned yards and
rigging of the "Ajax" and "Hogue," as we swept swiftly past, which were
returned with such right good will, that we made but a very hoarse
return to a last parting cheer from the forts at the mouth of the
harbour.
The church bells softened and died away in the distance; streets,
villas, and shipping grew indistinct; the fast-receding shores dwindled
to a narrow strip; the long blue undulating line sank below the
horizon; and we were fairly standing out to sea.
We steamed away, ate and drank, and preached to the fishes
occasionally, as the breeze freshened rather disagreeably; until, on
entering the Bay of Biscay, it began to blow in hard earnest, and by
the fourth day had risen to a furious gale; mountains of waves reaching
often to the yard-arms, and squalls coming on so suddenly, as to cause
serious fears lest the masts should go overboard. At last it blew a
perfect hurricane, with such a tremendous sea running as I had never
witnessed in crossing the Atlantic before. In the height of the howling
din and confusion, the tiller ropes broke, and were righted, after some
time, with great difficulty. All night the violence of the storm was
unabated; the sea washed the decks every other wave; the tiller ropes
again gave way, and once more we were drifting before the tempest. It
was impossible to stay below in such a state of peril and uncertainty,
and all the officers assembled on deck. The roaring of the wind through
the rigging was so deafening, that we could not make ourselves heard,
and all stood in silence watching the storm. One of the sailors aloft,
whose perilous position we had been remarking, was jerked off the
main-topsail yard-arm, and falling on the deck with a fearful crash,
was killed on the spot. The foretop-mast was sprung, and immediately
afterwards the mess-room ports were stove in, and floods of water
poured through, and surged from side to side of the cabin with the
heavy rolling, breaking over the table at every lurch. By the glimmer
of a single lamp, officers and men hazarded neck and limbs in desperate
attempts to secure, and lash together, the large hampers, chests, and
heavy casks of sea-stores, which were dashed violently up and down the
stateroom.
After seeing all secured, and making a meal of biscuit and salt beef as
we stood, bare-legged and soaked to the skin, we waded to our flooded
berths, and turned in for the night, though the uproar was so terrific
that it was impossible to sleep. In the midst of the din, came another
astounding crash of barrels and chests broken loose; some bursting
through the cabin doors as if they had been chip. Officers and men,
dressed and undressed, turned out, and all were again at work lashing
and making fast.
In the morning, the jolly-boat, weighing about a couple of tons, was
found high above the davits, blown against the rigging, and a valuable
charger of the Colonel's killed. All this time, the wind was dead on
the north coast of Spain, and we were obliged to wear ship constantly,
driving about between Ushant and Scilly, till at the end of eight days
we had the peculiar satisfaction of finding ourselves a trifle nearer
England than on the first.
"Post nubila Phoebus." After the black and angry Bay of Biscay, the
sunny tropics. The gale moderated, and by the 6th of April we had
entered the torrid zone; awnings were spread on deck, and the band
played in the evenings, which closed with the most gorgeous sunsets.
The only land seen since leaving port, was St. Antonio, one of the
Cape de Verde islands, about twenty miles off, which we sighted as the
setting sun lit up its rugged sides with the richest tints of purple
and gold.
On the 16th we crossed the Line, where, with grave circumstance and
ceremony, the uninitiated were made freemasons by Neptune and his
court in person, after being well lathered with pipe-clay and mops,
shaved with three-feet razors, soundly ducked, and afterwards rinsed
by liberal applications of the fire-engine hose and water-buckets. On
reaching the southerly "trades" we were right glad to get rid of the
stifling heat, and clanking of the engine, and spread canvass once more.
A succession of tropical calms, in which we were, nearly roasted;
and tropical showers, in which we were as nearly drowned, ensued.
The beautiful "Southern-cross," "Centaur," and other, to us new,
constellations, now shone out nightly with surpassing brilliancy;
and bonetas, sharks, dolphins, Cape-pigeons, and albatrosses, with
flying-fish innumerable, played around the ship day after day; some of
the latter gratifying our curiosity by a visit through the ports.
After a monotonous voyage of more than seven weeks, we, one fine
evening, sighted what the landsmen took to be a hazy bank of cloud in
the extreme horizon, but the sailors declared most positively to be
land, with so many and extraordinary maledictions on themselves and
personal property generally, that they ought to have felt considerably
relieved when daylight the following morning put it beyond a doubt.
Long before the hour of breakfast, our usual meet, every one was on
deck gazing at the distant mountains and bold headlands of the Cape,
which rapidly grew more distinct as we approached them with a fresh
breeze in our favour, a magnificent sea running mountains high. Late in
the day the scattered houses became visible along the welcome shore,
and we entered Simon's Bay.
The little town--a group of flat-roofed white and yellow houses, with
Venetian shutters and wide verandahs--is prettily situated at the foot
of a mountain, fringed with bushes. American aloes and cactus form
luxuriant hedges round the gardens, and flourish to an immense size;
picturesque groups of swarthy Malays, in huge beehive-shaped hats,
or red and yellow bandanas, gazed at us from the shore, or pulled
alongside, vociferating in Dutch, and offering melons, pumpkins, eggs,
and fruit, for sale.
Next day we went ashore, while the women and children were being
disembarked to remain behind at Cape Town, and the rest of our camp
equipage was got on board, and took advantage of the opportunity to
make a rapid survey of the immediate neighbourhood, and stretch our
legs after nearly two months imprisonment on board ship. As we strolled
along the street we were much struck with the skill and ease with which
the native Africanders drove their waggons, eight and ten in hand,
full trot round the most difficult corners, an assistant wielding an
enormous whip with both hands; and during our rambles were delighted to
find the most exquisite specimens of our greenhouse _ericas_ wild on
the mountain sides. The evening was warm and lovely, and the perfume
of the creepers and flowering trees most delicious, as we walked in the
bright moonlight; not a sound was heard but the rippling of the waves
and the shrill cry of the cicada, and we very reluctantly left the
refreshing repose of the quiet shore to go on board again.
The following morning, at a signal from the Commodore, we steamed out
of the harbour, and shaped our course for Algoa Bay, a run of about
three hundred miles, along a wild, and almost uninhabited coast.