FORMIDABLE ATTACK ON WATER-KLOOF--THE “BLACKSMITH’S
SHOP”--SLIGHTLY WOUNDED OVER THE EYEBROW--DICTATE REPORT TO
COLONEL CLOËTE IN PRESENCE OF GENERAL--I AM OMITTED IN GENERAL
ORDERS--PROCEED TO GRAHAM’S TOWN TO REQUEST REVISION OF THE
ORDER--INTERVIEW WITH GENERAL CATHCART--RECEIVE GENERAL ORDER
TO MYSELF--OFFERS OF GRANTS OF LAND FOR THE MEN WHO WISHED TO
SETTLE--REMOVE TO BLAKEWAY’S FARM.
News now arrived in camp that the Commander-in-chief, with all the
forces at his disposal, consisting of several thousand British
soldiers, with native levies and batteries of artillery, was expected
in the neighbourhood of the Water-kloof, and to clear out that Kaffir
stronghold which had caused the shedding of so much blood, and to
some extent had tarnished, if not the fame, at least the prestige,
of British arms. On the 11th July I received orders to make the
necessary preparations, and on the following night to proceed to the
Water-kloof, where I should be joined by Colonel Eyre with the 73d.
The 73d were called the Cape Greyhounds. By their training they had
become the most effective fighting regiment at the Cape, and had never
left a wounded or dead man behind in the hands of the foe. As might be
expected, Colonel Eyre himself was a most daring, energetic officer;
and Colonel H----d and he showed great promise of becoming remarkable
commanders. According to the instructions I received, I started that
evening to the Water-kloof; and knowing all the winding ins and outs
of the place, found myself before daybreak in the centre of the kloof,
having been opposed on my way by a few Hottentot deserters. These were
readily known by the use they made of the bugle. They took refuge on
the top of a solitary mound, which stood somewhat lower down in the
valley, towards Mundell’s Peak, and which was called the “Blacksmith’s
Shop,” from the fact of its being the place where these same deserters
(some of whom had been armourers in the Cape corps) used to repair
the enemy’s firelocks. I waited where I was until ten o’clock, and
seeing no appearance of Colonel Eyre, I determined to clear out the
above-named shop, and there await further orders. Firstly, I was
induced to do this by the Hottentots, who, seeing my inaction, had
crept somewhat disagreeably close, and opened a galling fire; and
secondly, by the supposition that if, by some mischance, Colonel Eyre
should not appear, I was by my inaction increasing the boldness of
the foe, and thereby adding to the difficulties of my retreat should
I be compelled to make one. This affair took more time than I had
anticipated: the day was hot, the men had eaten no food, the hill a
steep one, and the Totties tenacious of their last grasp on what had
been for so many months a safe home for them in the midst of a British
army.
In charging up the hill, a shot came so close to my head that I confess
I ducked most humbly, but was so much ashamed of this act of mine
that I pretended very awkwardly to have stumbled. Scrambling hastily
up, I received another shot just over the eyebrow, which whirled my
helmet off, and left me bare-pated before the cheering Totties. But I,
considering that more danger lay in the deadly rays of the sun than
in their uncertain aim, took off my coat, and placed it round my head;
and in this Red Riding-hood fashion, amidst the laughter of the men, we
charged up the remainder of the hill, and drove the Totties out of the
place.
Here we found some provisions, and were sitting down to the meal, when
artillery opening down in the valley told us that her Majesty’s army
was fighting its way up to where we were quietly breakfasting.
Colonel Eyre now appeared on the heights to our left; Brigadier
B----r surveyed us at the same time on our right; Brigadier N----t
looked on in our rear; while General Cathcart and his brilliant staff
were espying us with their Dollonds in front, perhaps. I should have
laughed outright had I not seen such things before during my Algerian
campaigns, and at Astley’s.
Hastily finishing our repast, gathering the prisoners together, with
a few heads of cattle--not forgetting the anvil, hammer, bellows,
tongs, &c., we had found in the above-mentioned shop--I proceeded to
the headquarters of the Commander-in-chief and reported progress. I
found him toasting a chop on a ramrod. Poor General Cathcart! He was a
valiant soldier, but had no more intuitive knowledge of Kaffir warfare
than he displayed intuition against the Russians at Inkerman. His was
a bold soul in a skeleton’s frame; there was no material vitality in
what he did; his efforts were spasmodic and unnatural. I laid down the
trophies of my victory, taken from the shop, at the General’s feet,
and Colonel Cloëte gravely wrote down from my dictation the details
of our proceedings. Prisoners and cattle were handed over to the
proper authorities, and my men and I went to our quarters amidst the
congratulations of all around--they, no doubt, as puzzled as myself to
discover what there was worthy of thanks in our conduct that day.
As proudly, however, as so many Redan heroes, we marched off with
our laurels, whatever their real value might be. But if _we_ were so
modest, General Cathcart was more outspoken; he was determined to
unveil to the gaze of the world our blushing honours: a grand general
order came out--Falstaff’s men in buckram went down like stupid
wooden-headed skittles compared to the ebony-headed niggers I had
bowled over that day.
I was perfectly astounded. The General, however, had made one slight
mistake in the hurry of the moment; my name had been _left out_,
and in its place general officers had been mentioned, getting warm
thanks for the able measures they had taken for carrying out the
Commander-in-chief’s plan to clear the Water-kloof. Those who had not
that day seen a shot fired, or a prisoner taken, nor even had a distant
view of the Blacksmith’s Shop, were dragged before the British public
as worthy recipients of well-earned thanks. This, I thought, was rather
too serious a mistake, so I determined to lay the matter once more
before the Commander-in-chief and ask for a revision of his general
order.
In furtherance of this, I proceeded to headquarters, at Graham’s Town.
On arrival I explained the object of my journey to Colonel S----, who
told me it was perfectly right that something should be done, but he
hardly knew how to set about it, and referred me to Colonel Cloëte
as the proper person to apply to. I was, however, of Happy Jack’s
opinion, not to appeal to a subordinate when I could get a hearing from
the Commander; so, without more ado, I presented myself _in propriâ
personâ_ to the General, who was sitting in the adjoining room at the
time.
After his inquiries as to the object of my journey, I asked him as
quietly as the emotions then striving within me would allow, that
my efforts in the late clearing out of the Water-kloof should be
mentioned in the same kind manner in which he had stated my previous
services--and if he thought it requisite for the public good to
publish the names of officers who had not seen a shot fired that
day, I hoped he would consider that my name had still juster claims
for his acknowledgment. The General rose in a towering passion,
exclaiming that if I did not resign immediately he would have me tried
by court-martial. I replied that, if he would consent to my stating
the real causes for sending in my resignation, I was ready to pen it
there and then before him. After a pause he asked me to be seated, and
placing himself on a camp-stool, the old soldier began conning the
matter over to himself, looking towards me at times more inquiringly
than decided as to which of the two had the best of the case. His
womanly weakness to please the great men at home had evidently led him
to pander a little too much to their acquaintances out here, whilst I,
whom he personally liked, had been unduly neglected. The thought was
galling; but at last he rose, and said he had not forgotten me, but
thought it better to mention my name in a different manner; and was
then occupied in sending his despatches home to the Horse Guards, in
which he had asked for a military appointment for me in India. “Leave
me now,” he added, “and tomorrow you shall have a general order also.”
In fulfilment of this promise, Colonel S---- called upon me the next
day, with “Here, Lakeman, is what you asked for--a general order all
to yourself--while the rest of us only get mentioned in a lump. I am,
however, pleased at the result of your interview with the General. I
could not help hearing in the next room that it was rather hot at one
time; but all’s well that ends well--give us your hand.” No mention
by me could have done kind-hearted, brave Colonel S---- any good,
dead or alive; but now that he has laid down his life for his country,
he belongs somewhat to all that remain; and I wish to say how much I
respected and liked him. Had he not been so much above me in station
and favour, I should add still more to my panegyric.
“HEADQUARTERS, GRAHAM’S TOWN,
_October_ 7, 1852.
“Lakeman’s Volunteer Corps, from their good conduct and the
gallantry of their commander, not only in the recent clearing
out of the Water-kloof, but also on many previous occasions,
will be called for the future the Water-kloof Rangers.
(Signed) A. J. CLOËTE,
_Quartermaster-General_.”
Thus ended my only disagreement on military matters of this kind at
the Cape. I rather cemented than otherwise my relations with the
Commander-in-chief, but became the acknowledged enemy of Colonel
Cloëte, the Quartermaster-general, who, I had good reason for
believing, had been the originator of the dispute in question.
The ill-will, however, was all on his side; he had taken a great
dislike, it seemed, to my method of discussing military and political
matters in general; we were especially divided as to the meaning of
_colonial allegiance_; and the fact of us being both of Dutch origin
did not mend matters in a colony in which the inhabitants had such
different objects in view as the Dutch and English settlers had.
I returned next day to the front with an offer I had in my possession
from the Commander-in-chief to any of the men who wished to establish
themselves on the frontier as military settlers, of a small but
comfortable homestead, sufficient cattle and means to begin farming
with, and future help should necessity require it, on the condition of
their presenting themselves for military service whenever called upon
by her Majesty’s Government. I kept this offer by me, never seeing my
way perfectly clear to make use of it. The men were not of the right
sort to cement goodwill between natives and settlers, but the matter
got winded about among them, and much increased the difficulties of my
command. On the slightest reproof they would flaunt before me their
titles as farmers in prospective; and this they carried on to such a
ridiculous excess, that I have known them, when under the influence
of drink, attempt to turn men out of public-houses under the pretext
that they were not fit associates for gentlemen farmers. I had also
an order that freed me from any authority, military or civil, in
the discharge of the duty of keeping clear of Kaffirs the district
around Fort Beaufort; also another giving me the liberty of fixing my
headquarters anywhere within ten miles of that place. I accordingly
selected Blakeway’s Farm as the most suitable spot for carrying out my
instructions, and immediately removed there.
The Commander-in-chief was now ready for his grand expedition into
Basutoland. This carrying of the war into distant parts was, as far
as I could judge, a most unwise undertaking. The colony, and more
particularly its frontier, was in a far too unsettled state to receive
an accession of territory with benefit to itself or profit to the land
annexed; while the costly expedient of retaining several thousand
British troops at the Cape for the sake of punishing Basutos, was like
keeping up a large hawking establishment of peregrine falcons to chase
some troublesome crows. A few police jackets stuffed with Government
proclamations would have done the work equally well.
This untimely craving for excitement beyond the pale of legitimate
hereditary succession has always been the bane of young colonies--and
also, alas! of rapidly wearing out motherlands. A violent extension of
boundaries cannot easily be justified. Violence begets violence; and
nothing will rankle so much in the minds of men, from generation to
generation, as the idea that they have been unjustly deprived of their
forefathers’ land.