The Autobiography of Sir Harry Smith

Appendix IV. — Extracts From Harry Smith’s Letters to His Wife During the Kafir War, 1835

Grahamstown, 30th Jan. 1835.

The Kafirs, from the manner in which I occupied all the passes in their rear, had been beautifully harassed, and now fly from the sight of one of our people as rapidly as they flew towards him until I stirred them up a little in their own country. So you recommend shrapnel, grape, howitzers, shells! Well done! We will take your advice: for old Johnstone253 says true, you are the best general he knows. I am sadly off for officers and assistants in my office. Selkirk Stewart would be to me worth all the clerks in my office, and old Johnstone all the officers I have in the field, Cox excepted. The quantity I have to write and to do is really incredible, and you know how quick I can get through my work. The people here are astonished. But I have eased my labours very much by establishing boards of gentlemen of the place and officers, one of clergymen for the destitute families, one to receive the claims of all persons whose property has been seized for military purposes, one to inquire into the burgher force, a clothing board for the burghers, a labour heretofore beyond even me. All these boards submit their proceedings to me. I approve or disapprove, and act as supreme. Even thus, much of my time is occupied; but it has reduced my labours much.

Bivouac between Fish and Keiskamma rivers,
close to Mount Somerset, 13th Feb.

Viva Enrique!
Mi queridissima muger,254

I have been in the field since Saturday last, sleeping in the bush, never better. Was on horseback yesterday 28 hours, attacked the Kafirs in five points like fun, gave them a good licking with a trifling loss on our parts; seventy-three killed, counted on the field, lots of wounded. Took 2500 head of cattle, goats, sheep, etc.; gave them some of your shrapnel shells, but want a few of my old Riflemen, although all my fellows are willing enough and full of fight. Do not be afraid of Enrique. He takes good care of himself, and never moves without 30 Cape Rifles as an escort.

A shocking accident occurred the night before last. The 72nd and other troops lay in position waiting for daylight to attack; though every precaution was taken and there was no fault, some one cried out, “The Kafirs!” and the men jumped up and fired on each other before the officers could speak. Three men were killed, and more desperately wounded. This rather hindered my operations, because it alarmed the enemy. However, thank God, I have done as much as I expected.

You cannot think how well I am. Nothing fatigues me, and although my force is only 1200 men and 800 horses with four guns, yet my operations are over an extent of 4000 square miles of country. We were marching from 7 o’clock the 11th till 8 o’clock the 12th. No one tired. This morning we want nothing but some grog, which I momentarily expect. God bless you, old woman, and do not be afraid. Our God will take care of us both. Adios, alma mia.

Enrique.

Grahamstown, 26th and 27th Feb. 1835.

My Fish River trip was a very lucky one, and has had a great effect on all the Kafirs. It is reported and believed that they are all flying into Hintza’s country. He is a very powerful chief who has been wavering in his policy towards us. He is, I believe, at the bottom friendly, although he wishes to keep as much of the stolen cattle as he possibly can. It is decided that the 75th Regt. remain on the usual frontier line, and that the 72nd all go into Kafirland. The former are as much mortified as the latter are delighted. To-day I go to Hermanus Kraal, next day near to Fort Willshire to select a camp for our invading force to assemble on. We are to select the most effective men of the Burgher force, and send the remainder to the second line. The Chief is now all for invasion. Paddy Balfour will be my A.D.C.

I should like you to see me with my escort, a trumpeter, a sergeant, two corporals, and six fine fellows of the Cape Corps, five led horses, Guides (a corps all well mounted), etc., and generally five or six smart young fellows of volunteers; but I would give all the pomp and glory of war for one quiet evening with mi vida at Charlie’s Hope,255 though I am now writing by a nice little wood fire, as comfortable as can be when away from my beautiful wife. You are in no danger, alma mia, of being supplanted here. This is the most dull, stupid, and horrid place on earth, celebrated for the most ugly of the fair sex.

I have just been to inspect three detachments of Burghers. I will give you a detail. One consists of 62 fighting men and horses, 50 non-combatants, 28 waggons. Another of 118 fighting men and horses, 80 non-combatants, 36 waggons. Only conceive what an army, and every individual wants something, either shoes, shirts, bridle, saddle. It is perfectly ridiculous, but yet when the poor fellows thus dragged from their homes are in the field, they are good-humoured and willing and shoot well enough. Oh! my old woman, glory is a fine thing, domestic quiet is better. It was well enough when I was at the head, but now second fiddle is slow. I am lazy and forget when things do not fly like lightning.

All our own country is free from Kafirs, much more so than in times of actual peace; still every post the postmaster comes to me for escorts. To-day I blew him up and called him an ass. The panic with which the people were seized here will not wear off for years. Had twenty Kafirs shown themselves in the neighbourhood of Grahamstown a day or two before my arrival, all would have either run away or shot one another. What amuses me much just now, is that those who funked the most formerly are the most valiant now that the danger is dispelled.

In two months I will, with God’s blessing, be with my dear old wife to talk over my labours, which Heaven knows have been heavy enough. I have gained credit for two things—one, licking the Kafirs; another, blowing up the lazy idle rascals who will neither work, fight, nor do anything but draw rations.

So you are a schoolmistress? Mind teach the young ones to sew and work. It will do them more good than to read and write.

Love to all, and the sum total of all my love, affection, regard, esteem, everything that is dear, to you, alma mia.

Enrique.

5 o’clock, 27 Feb.

When once I am in the field, I will work in my own way. Master is always floundering in the midst of information, whilst I like to take a look at the ground, march, and take possession. Thank God, I have been heretofore very lucky indeed. Do you recollect poor Thompson saying, when the ants were swarming in the house, “Oh, sir, it is great luck, great promotion for you somewhere”? It is very ridiculous, but I often think of it.

I long to march, although I well see I shall have all the trouble of war and marches without the all-stirring spirit of War. Ah, Venus and Mars! Enough of the latter. I begin to think a quiet life of Darby and Joan very agreeable. The fact is, it is better fun to be together as heretofore: only this is such a naked country. At Genadendal there was one pair of breeks between three boys, but here neither boys nor girls nor women have breeks or sarks either.

I have been writing all day, still it is with much delight I keep on writing to you, alma mia....

God bless my dearest virtuous wife.
Enrique.

Grahamstown, 6th March, 1835.

Thank God, my dearest old woman, you are well.... To-morrow the troops commence their march upon the base of our future operations between Fort Willshire and the Block Drift or the line of the Chumie, which runs into the Keiskamma near the Fort. I went up there last Saturday and had a beautiful ride of three days, doing everything I had to do and returning a day and a half sooner than I was expected. It is really wonderful how I bear work. I spread my karosse and lie down with my saddle-bags under my head, and after thanking my God and blessing my dear old woman, am asleep in a moment. The bivouac we are going to is really one of the most beautiful things I ever saw, and, thanks to the late rains, the grass everywhere is up to the horses’ fetlocks. To-morrow I start with my escort—my corps of Guides, my led horses, my interpreters, my secretaries. How you would laugh to see such a motley group!

So I am to take care they do not shoot at me from the Bush? That story about old Jem256 and me was founded on very little truth. In the middle of my Fish River fight, just as Jem was cooking some coffee and I was writing, when we were surrounded by soldiers, three shots were fired at the whole. I certainly jumped up and rattled the impudent rascals “out of that” pretty quick; but, old girl, I am too much of a Rifleman to be caught napping without every precaution of war. But they do put such trash in the papers occasionally, it is quite amusing.

Camp near Fort Willshire, 12th March.

I wish you could see me, because then, you know, I could see you. It is very delightful to unbend and not act always the great man, although I assure you we laugh in camp sometimes famously. I almost kill Hallifax at some of my roar-outs to the soldiers. Yesterday morning, just before daylight in Fort Willshire, I desired his bugler to blow the “rouse,” which you well remember. He said he did not know it. “D—— you, sir, blow something.” So he blew up a quadrille, and I began to dance. I thought Hallifax would have laughed till he died. What a burlesque upon our school of war!

Grahamstown, 16th March, 1835.

When I came flying down from Fort Willshire the other day it was, as you may suppose, for the purpose of inducing my master to get under weigh and not to mind a Kafir and a half, which Col. Somerset’s arrangements with nearly 3000 men were going to catch. Master and I very nearly fell out. In his string of operations in last week’s paper, signed by Kitty Dutton, my attack on the enemy’s position was left out. After some little jaw, he said he thought it too bold a thing to attempt with the force under my command, so I bristled up and said, “Rely upon it, whenever I hear of a Kafir, so soon will I be at him with whatever force I can collect. This is the way to treat so contemptible an enemy, although too much caution cannot be adopted to prevent a surprise, or too much activity used in following up any advantage obtained. This, sir, is my maxim, and one which shall guide me throughout the campaign.” “Oh, it is a very proper feeling, but discretion is also to be observed.”

I have at last spurred him into a move, and I hope we shall get on and bring things to a close, for I am really tired of this slow work. I want to be at Charlie’s Hope again.

17th March.

The 72nd Regiment marched yesterday for the camp at Fort Willshire, and the whole of the troops will be in motion, I hope, to-morrow to concentrate. Sir Benjamin has given out a General Order appointing me to command the 1st Division.

1st Division: 100 of the Cape Corps, 40 Corps of Guides, two 6-pounders, 300 Swellendam Burghers, the whole of the 72nd Regiment, the 1st Provisional Battalion of Hottentots, 430 strong. Officered by H. Peddie.

2nd Division, 2 guns, 750 Burghers, 200 Cape Corps, Lieut.-Col. Somerset.

3rd Division: 250 Burghers, 50 Cape Corps, two 3-pounders, 2nd Provisional Battalion, 374 strong (an excellent body of men), Major Cox.

4th Division: 500 Burghers, Field Commandant Van Wyk. The troops will thus advance—

Left.	Left-Centre.	Centre.	Right.
Van Wyk.	Major Cox.	Me myself and Sir Slow as far as he goes.	Col. Somerset.

Lieut.-Col. England is to command the ordinary Frontier Posts and Grahamstown and has 1800 men, just 100 more than I had when I took the command here, re-established villages and posts which had been so shamefully abandoned, and invaded Kafirland with 450 men, so that I think the 2nd line may be considered safe and no necessity for any panic. But really it is astonishing to see how they funk.

His Excellency has just sent for me, good old man, to say he is not pleased with his General Order of yesterday appointing me to the command of the Division. He says it cramps my power, so he has put in orders that I am to be second in command, continuing my duties as Chief of the Staff, by which means I can order everybody about like himself. It also gives old Peddie a command, which I am very glad of.

18th March.

In this stupid little room in which I am writing, I think rather too much of an old faithful woman at Charlie’s Hope, but as I hope soon to lick Tyalie, I hope soon to be with her. But my hair has grown grey. I think, if it progresses as heretofore, I shall have a white top altogether. Not quite so bad as that either! But it is grey. Oh, I should like at this moment to ride into the dear little square! I can hear your voice when I left you on the 1st January, as plainly as possible. Do you recollect the glove in the hackney coach in London?257 And so it will be again, alma mia!

20th March, 8 o’clock.

Don’t be jealous, but my landlady has just sent me a present of half a dozen of champagne and two stone bottles of curaçoa, rather a treat to me the latter. The former I will astonish somebody or other with in the bivouac. Fine campaigning this, is it not?

I have just packed my leave-behind box and remaining papers, got a canteen of brandy for Paddy Balfour and myself, and ten pounds of tobacco for my escort, filled the two bags you made with tea and sugar, put up my knife, fork, and spoon, and thirteen plates into a leather letter-bag. The tea-kettle is tied to my saddle-bags. We make carbonada on a forked stick, oh, so good it is! quite different to what it is when done in a frying-pan: you then stick the one end of the stick in the ground, whilst the hot meat hisses in your face as you recline on your karosse à la Turque. Very fine. But the old round table at Charlie’s Hope would do as well!

I really am capitally equipped, and if you were like me, young, I should like to have you with me. God knows but it will be cold before we get back. This Grahamstown itself is the coldest place in Africa. The moment you are five miles from it, the climate is much milder. Not a tree near it, scarcely a bush, and such bleak cold-looking hills you cannot conceive, as cold as the Pyrenees—where you rather roughed it than otherwise in the old paved tent. Do you remember when old Billy Mein, 52nd, used to come and drink with me grog made of very bad rum? We were not so nice then as to have brandy.

I have desired you have a Grahamstown journal sent you, and I beg you not to believe more than one-half of the alarming lies that will be published in it. This place ought to be called “Necessity,” for it is the mother of invention.

Adios, alma mia di mi corazon. You have a good long letter this time.

Enrique.

Camp near Willshire, 25th March.

Up at four; sing out to cook for coffee; “Minni” (sergeant of the escort), “feed horses”; “Japps, rouse up the escort”; “Up saddle, camp.” Marched as soon as light into a nice bivouac. I have a most beautiful bush, and a still better one for His Excellency, and one between us both for Kittie. Capital breakfast; cows give lots of milk. Secretaries all at work building me a hut. Twenty men on fatigue building one for His Excellency, who has not yet arrived.

Nine o’clock. “Escort, up saddle”; “Japps, order Pompey for me and Minni’s horse for Captain Jervis. We are going to look for a new line of road.” Return to camp at one, having chalked out my road and sent a hundred men with Jervis to repair it. Report of five Kafirs prowling about the camp. Their spoor discovered back over the Keiskamma. Learn that His Excellency is not to leave Grahamstown for a day or two. Much mortified; I have built him a noble hut. Have a most capital hut myself, just completed, and wish una vieja muger que se llama Juana was within it.

Just received a report that some cattle are seen on the other side of the river. “Japps! a horse and my escort.” “Ah, ah, sir!” Up saddle and off.

Just come back. I fancy I see some, and send out a patrol of 50 men under Field-Commandant Lindé, Swellendam Burghers. The finest old fellow upwards of 70 I ever saw, except my poor old Padre. Just such a game old fellow as he is. Order dinner. Bruintjes (you must be acquainted with him); Painter and Minni you know; all these are occasionally called in my delicate voice. Our conversation is now beginning. “Well, Bruintjes, what’s for dinner?” “Some skin beef I can for soup mak.” (“Don’t make such a jaw, men; I can’t hear what my cook says.”) “Some pampoose too, sar, what master bring from Kafirland. Leetle onion, sar; a leg mutton for rost, sar; some bock what left yesterday, sar, what the Boers send master for hash; dat plenty, sar.” “Yes, by G—d, plenty, Bruintjes. Well, good fellow, mind, coffee ready directly after dinner, then you shall have your grog. Keep me waiting, no grog. Japps, what the devil are those loose horses doing here about my hut?” Japps, in a voice something between thunder and the croak of a frog, roars out, “Heigh, you d—d Boers! You take way your horse from Coronel.” The prospect of a good dinner makes me think I am dirty. “Painter, lay out my dressing things, lots of water, and a clean shirt.” A glorious splash, the water as cool as possible, the day not being so hot as yesterday. I think in a day or so it may rain. All the better for our grass. The cow-boy, “Black Jim.” “Well, Jim, what do you want?” “Kraal to be made for master’s cows.” “Very well, Jim; but make a kraal for the calves too.” “Yah, Mynheer.” “Or no grog.” “Yah, Mynheer.” “Now, be off.”

“Field-Commandant Dreyer wishes to speak with you, sir,” says the orderly sergeant. “Well, Dreyer, why the devil won’t you come in? What a ceremonious humbug!” “Coronel was busy write.” “Oh, you be d—d, and come in sit. Well, vaar is the Kafir?” “I canno say, meinheer. Coronel must loup into Kafirland.” “How can I, Dreyer? I must wait for the Governor.” “Well, where is the Governor? He must come; my mans is tired for ‘nix mak.’”258 “Can’t help it, Dreyer.”

“Well, Sandford, what do you want? Paddie Balfour, and be whipped to you, don’t make such a noise. Japps, send this order to Commandants Lindé and Dreyer.” “Yas, sar.”

Sandford. “Colonel, I want an escort for empty waggons to Grahamstown.” “How many?” “Twenty-two.” “By Heavens, we shall eat up all our stores, lying idling here: I will order an escort. Let them make haste back, and lots of rice and spirits, mind.” “We are getting very short of beef too, sir.” “Damnation, I hear nothing but bad news. Orderly, tell Greyling and Nel” (two capital Boers) “to come to me immediately. I will get meat, Sandford. Any more bad news?” “No, sir, plenty of stores as yet.” “Well, Ford, did you bleed them?” “No, the camp is very healthy, and the wounded at Fort Willshire are all doing well.” “Send for Adair. Order an escort for Sandford’s waggons. Ford, come and dine with me, and be off now, I am busy. Well, Greyling and Nel, where are the bullocks and sheep?” “I know no tings, sar.” “The devil you don’t. Be off both of you immediately beyond Fort Beaufort. Bring me 40,000 sheep.” “Nay, Mynheer.” “Well, go and bring me as many bullocks and sheep as I shall give you an order for, when I and the commissary have made our calculations. Here, Andrews” (the Dutch secretary), “make out passports and authorities for all persons to aid and assist Greyling and Nel to go to Beaufort for sheep. Well, sir, what do you want?” (A great fat stupid-looking Boer standing at the hut door.) “Mynheer, mi vrouw——” “Andrews, what the devil does he want?” “To go home, sir, or to have his gun mended.” “No, sir” (in a very low voice); “I want to go to my vrouw, but by G—d I can’t.” “No more shall you. Go to your camp, and be ready to shoot Kafirs. Here, bugler, sound the grog-horn.” Then such a hurrah! “Almost dinner-time, Painter?” “No, sir, only five.” “You are wrong.” “No, sir, I am right.” “You, sir, why do you contradict me? It is six by my appetite. Well, Hallifax, what is going on in Fort Willshire?” “Fort Harry, sir, will be finished in a day or two.” (A little post he has established as a look-out, and named after me.259) “Wounded doing well.” “Are you going to stay and dine?” “With great pleasure.” “Southey” (captain of Guides), “let this way-post be sent to Captain Jervis, who knows where to place it at the turn-off of the new road.” “Well, Bagot, what is it?” (He commands a battalion of Hottentots.) “Shall I post any additional sentries to-night?” “Why?” “Five Kafirs were about the camp.” “I care not a —— if 5000 were around my camp. I will post my own picquets, ah! and sentries too—or vedettes, as I call them; ah! and take good care of our camp too. Five Kafirs shan’t take us, be assured.”

Well, old woman, this is a little specimen of one of my days in camp; so that you may readily conceive what a holiday a ride is. But all this is good fun enough, compared to the quill-driving in Grahamstown.

---

What shall I do to-morrow? Think of old Juana. Yes, because I do nothing else, I believe; although all the fellows wonder what the devil I am made of. I am here, there, and everywhere. No party do I ever send out but in two seconds I am amongst them; when they look grave I sing (beautifully, as you know), and the Boers laugh at my gaiety beyond everything. A young, big, fat Dutchman has just come to my tent door, saying that he has no blanket, and that it is very wet. What is he to do? “Go to the devil, and warm yourself, you spoony. Make a fire, sir, and sing over it. I have given you grog. Why, I never had a blanket campaigning for ten years. You want pluck, sir. Be off.” This is the way I go on almost day and night.

Night scene. “Hallo, sentry.” “Sir.” “What the devil are the dogs making such a noise about?” “Don’t know, sir; they always make a noise.” “Are the horses right?” “Yes, sir.” “What horse is that, biting himself so?” “That horse is master’s old horse, what carries the canteen.” Then sleep. In an hour, “What horses are those I hear moving?” “Some escort with letters for Coronel.” Out with a lucifer: light candles. Sometimes the letters are worthy a candle, oftener cock-and-bull stories. Lie down and sleep again. “Sentry, near daylight?” “No, sir, moon.” “I wish the dogs were at the devil.” “Make too plenty noise, sir.” Sleep. Soon after, awake, look at my watch. “Hallo, bugler, blow the rouse; Japps, feed; Bruintjes, coffee. Painter!” “Coming, sir!” “Where are the straps to my trousers?” “Under your ’ead, sir.” “Why, what an ass you are! Leave them in my boots. You, Jim, where’s the milk?” “Here, Mynheer.” “Balfour, where are you?” “Coming, sir.” “Why, the shadow in your tent makes you look like the knave of clubs.”...

Adios, hija. Tu fiel, fiel,

Enrique.

Camp on the Debe Flats,
8 o’clock on the night of the 1st April, Tom Fool’s Day.

We are now pretty well collected, and Master is quite ready for anything. He is really a perfect soldier in the field, and to hear him laugh when I blow up the fellows in Dutch (that is, my Dutch)! But his delight is to dine and breakfast with me, particularly the latter. Our breakfast to-day was really perfection.

I have some excellent guides to all the passes in the ridge of hills which we are going to stir up to look for cattle. This Kafir war is nothing else than that. Read of Walter Scott’s Borderers, and you will learn what Kafir warfare is:

          “He would ride
A foray on the Scottish side.”

It is just that. You gallop in, and half by force, half by stratagem, pounce upon them wherever you can find them; frighten their wives, burn their homes, lift their cattle, and return home quite triumphant.

4th April.

Last night at eight o’clock, on our return from a march of twenty-two hours, I received your dear letter. Yesterday I roared myself into one of my Vittoria lost voices,260 and to-day I am whispering and swearing exclusively for my own amusement, for no one hears me. Old Doyle says I am still in advance in the talking way, and could afford a year’s silence at least. Murray is sitting with me; he is my great friend. Your description of your robbery and the “cuchillo”261 is highly amusing. I ought to publish it in this army, and show what a Spanish woman dare, for, by heavens! here I have some arrant cowards. The Boers of the old Commandos talk of the glories of former times, when the Kafirs had only assagais. But now that they have a few guns, which they use very badly, Mynheer funks. There are, however, some very fine fellows amongst them.

Quite delighted to hear of the “Green Jacket” getting on the windows. We want very much some “Green Jackets”262 here, for this warfare has all—nay! more than all—the fatigue of any other without the real excitement of war. Oh! the noise of the devils of captured cattle. Above a thousand head of cows and calves are now roaring in our ears.

Headquarters, Camp on the Debe, 5th April, 1835.

Our Hottentots are the most willing fellows possible. I call them my children, and all their little complaints, wants, and grievances they lay before me, which I listen to most patiently, for I exact a deal of work from them.... I will send off a warning order to the troops to march to-morrow at daylight. I always like to give the fellows all the warning I can. Arrangements, as His old Excellency calls them, are leather and prunella; for though he writes them beautifully, and in the most military and technical terms, there is not a soul in this camp who understands what he means; so that the pith of the matter is contained in the words, “March at daylight to-morrow, Monday, the 6th instant, commissariat and other waggons following column.” There it is, and all hands understand that it takes just two hours for our commissariat train to arrive, from the moving off of the first waggon to the arrival of the last, when the road is good. You may, therefore, General Juana, conceive what it must be when there is any serious obstacle to pass. It is really quite ridiculous to see the proportion of soldiers to the waggons; for when stretched out on the road, each with eight bullocks, it looks as if each soldier had one waggon at least. You, General Juana, accustomed only to regular armies (except a few guerrillas or so), would laugh to see our motley group, with every costume of a mean kind which can be imagined,—the Boer with his old white slouch hat, his long gun, his miserable saddle and bridle; the Hottentots with a little low-crowned hat, black jacket and trousers; the 72nd’s men with crackers,263 their pipe-clayed belts left behind, and a little ordinary pouch substituted for the large one, wearing a forage cap with a large red leather peak, which makes every man look exactly as if he had sore eyes; old Dutton strutting about the camp in the paraphernalia of a Kafir chieftain’s wife.

Camp on the Buffalo, daylight or nearly so,
Friday, 10th April, 1835.

The Third Division, under Jem Cox, and the Fourth Division are going to remain here to hunt the rebel chiefs, while the First and Second and Headquarters go on to Hintza to bring back the captured cattle. I hope twelve days may see us back here again.

Bivouac on the Gunga Rivulet, six miles from the
Gonoube River, 4 p.m., 11th April, 1835.

I am writing on my knees, the table not having arrived in the waggon just yet, in a most beautiful bivouac on the banks of a woody streamlet with beautiful water, and grass up to the knees. We have marched twenty miles from the Buffalo upon the main road into Kafirland over very open country without seeing anything but some Kafir cranes, two khorans, and three partridges. Lots of kraals, but all have been deserted for some time.

I am half afraid Master is only to go to the Gonoube to-morrow—six miles—and halt the next day. Such slow work is quite dreadful. Last night I had a regular fight with him. He funked dividing the army—nay, actually gave it up for all I could say or do. I was perfectly mortified. However, in the middle of the night he changed his mind, and I had it all my own way. He is far too scientific for this guerrilla warfare, always full of combinations and reserves, and rears, and fronts, and cautions and dangers, and false movements, and doubts and fears. The greatest fault one can be guilty of is dash. Yet it is the thing, and there is nothing to fear.

I wish you were with me just now. The tent is all pitched, my table up, the rushes laid down, all my clothes put inside (as it looks as if a heavy dew were going to fall), a large heap of beautiful dry wood laid ready to light at daylight. The soup has been on at least two hours. Our dinner, I hope, will be good, for me most certainly, for all I care about is soup with rice, and I eat such a lot, about five times as much as when with my dear old woman. We get also a lot of beautiful pumpkins from the Kafirs’ gardens, which help the soup, and we boil it with our rice. To-day, had there been time, we should have had a hare, which one of the men brought me yesterday; which I ordered to be stewed with rice and a piece of ham (Viva España!). But then we ought to have had un poco de aceyte y una cabeza de ajos.264... I wonder how I write Spanish. Do you understand it or not? I get on just as fast with it as English, anyhow; and if you do not understand, ’tis you who have forgot your own language, and not I how to write it.

6 o’clock, evening. 12th.

No ladies or any cattle brought in to-day, but I think we are running the whole population to earth on the Kei. There are great marks or spoors of innumerable cattle having been driven towards it. This should be our boundary. It is as bare of wood as the fens in my country, or even your country, scarcely covert for a hare, much less for the wily Kafir, whom I look upon just as a wild beast and try to hunt him as such. I little thought that the pains I took to make a huntsman of myself would hereafter befit me for a general of renown in Kafir warfare. But so it is. “Right ahead” and a “forward cast” will soon ensure you “Woo-hoop,” or as you call it “Oo-oop.” (Don’t “queeze” me, it is very “estraordinary,” you always do so.)

I hope that you may hear from me every week. I do my best to ensure it, and as yet I trust you have not been disappointed. If you are, be assured it cannot be helped. The distance is so enormous, and the odd devils we have to send as escorts with the mails do not, like regular soldiers, enable one to say that it will arrive on such an hour on such a day. The Hottentots are to be trusted, poor fellows; but the Boers are too fond of sleeping. Although I get on famously with them, I have no particular opinion of their pluck, and always have about me my twelve men with double-barrelled guns, my escort, with old Japps, whose very holloa! would frighten a Kafir if his shot did not. Twelve more plucky fellows I never saw, and they watch me like hawks. If I move, they are after me and all round me, and every night mount sentry over me. If I whisper, Japps hears me. My bugler is no great hand as a musician, but the gamest fellow I ever saw (I am my own trumpeter, n’est-ce pas, ma femme?); but all our fighting is now over. It is quite an affair of Smithfield Market now, or will be in a few days.

Daylight on the 13th April.

We were all ready to march, when Master sent for me, and because Somerset’s division is not up yet, has ordered a halt. I remonstrated, but it was of no use. He became touchy, talked of principal combination, military errors, etc. So I dropped the matter, as I always find it best to do at the moment, and renew it hereafter. Upon the whole, we are doing very well, but I fear he does not think so. He has been disappointed in not fighting a general action; which is a thing as likely to occur as that, if such were the case, the Kafirs would beat us.

They are in terrible dismay. Last night (for always two or three of them creep near us), the wind being favourable and the night very still, my Kafir guide sitting by the fire distinctly heard one call to another, “Ah, ah, the troops are come, and we shall be all killed.” In my tent I heard their howl. I will indulge in another wash, although it cannot wash away the stain of this day’s delay.

A nice cool morning, and I hope the day may be so too, for we have no shade. Not that I care about it; my hands are as black as my face, and that is the colour of dear little Moira’s nozzle, and my head about as gray as her nose. A big Dutchman just put me in half a rage. He came for a bullock skin. I gave him the order on the commissary, and the brute said he did not know where or who the commissary was. Now surely it was right to blow up such a fellow? I have improved in my Dutch wonderfully, almost as much as your dear Spanish figure has progressed towards the Dutch.

This lost day is a bore. I shall be tired of it all soon. Indeed, the little excitement there was in the warfare has subsided, now that we have no enemy and I cannot make my little patrols. I have no ambition to be a Smithfield Market drover. We will make Hintza’s Kafirs drive our cattle back, and guard it too. As I have before told you, it is wonderful how these devils can make the cattle go, when they are ever so tired. I feel delay more than ever, but a light heart (which thank God I possess) keeps me the most lively fellow in the camp. All the fellows in camp rejoice in me, thank God, and the soldiers would go to the devil for me. I feed them well. Two of the wounded fellows passed me yesterday, those with assagai wounds who had been with Murray. “Well, my boys, how are you?” “Oh, quite well, sir.” “Ah, it is me who gets you into such scrapes.” “We will soon be ready to fight under your honour again with all our hearts and souls.”

Halting-day, 13th April (continued).

We are just going to take a ride—Master, me, and escort—upon the road to the Kei, with some of our guides. And then such questions as he will ask these fellows, who are as ignorant of what he wants to come at as possible—the name of this hill, and the other, the source of this river, and that t’yaron, sometimes with impatience. But the dear old gentleman sets down all this to the credit of science and information, and thinks my guerrilla ideas are far too wild. To-day he said, “In your view of the case there is no combination. All is trusted to a blind succession of chances.” So I bristled up and said, “General, war in itself is a succession of chances, like all other games. But science must be its basis, and the great science of war is to adapt its principles to the enemy you have to contend with and the nature of the country. If you do not, you give him so many chances of the game.” This rather posed him. “Oh, certainly, I do not deny that. On the contrary, I agree with it.” I did not like to push him any further, for the great danger I have to avoid is that of assuming towards him a dictatorial manner; and God knows my manner is brusque enough, soften it down as I will. I am obliged sometimes to speak out; but I do so with every endeavour to avoid hurting his feelings.

14th April, 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

Just arrived from a march. We have taken a Fingo, a Kafir of an inferior order, who has given us very important information. He states that Hintza has all the Colonial cattle collected and ready to restore to us, and that he is within two days’ march of us at his residence near the missionary station of Butterworth. I ought to have told you where we are: which is, as the crow flies, within six miles of the Kei, but twelve miles by the waggon road. The bed of the river is very evident, and the country now most beautiful again, intersected with ravines on a minor scale like those of the Pyrenees, beautifully studded with gardens, and with pumpkins innumerable.

15 April, 4 o’clock in the morning.

Just received a beautiful letter from Master, which put me in great alarm—full of very military reasons why our march to-day should be delayed, and begging me to come to him that we might discuss it. So off I started from my barrack-sheets and karosse, and after a little preamble I found him much more easily turned into my path than I expected. So we start to-day at seven. The enemy is so disheartened now, that I think if you were here with your female attendants and that large knife, with a red cloak on, the sable foe would fly before you.

“Now, Paddy Balfour, you ugly beast with your moustaches, pour out the coffee, and be d——d to you.”

“Battle over, sleep in clover;
    Who so happy as we in camp?”

I am in great spirits this morning at having overcome the delay. “Up saddle.”

6 o’clock, 15th April.

This day has turned out much more auspicious than my utmost desire anticipated. I told you in the morning I was in high spirits, because Master consented to march down to the Kei. So I took care to be long before my time on horseback at his tent, with the advanced guard and my escort. He said with his usual politeness, “Pray, do not wait for me, Smith. Go on.” The hint was quite enough. It was all I wanted, and off I set in as fast a shuffle as I could keep the cavalry horses in, down to the river (about 11 miles). We could observe the tops of the hills (almost mountains) on the other side covered with Kafirs. The more there were, the more I pushed on. On my arrival at the ford, I was challenged from the opposite side by “Hallo, English, do you know what river this is? This is Hintza’s country. What do you want here?” I halted my troops, and made my Kafir desire one of them to lay down his arms and to come down to the river to speak to me. They were dreadfully frightened, but at last one laid down his assagai and by degrees in about an hour approached my Kafir. I told him to say that we were come to make Hintza give an answer to our former demand; that we would enter their country for the present as friends. All depended upon themselves and Hintza whether or not we were afterwards enemies.

During our conference we were joined by His Excellency, who highly approved of what I was doing. I went close to our side of the river—my Kafir sitting in the middle, Hintza’s Kafir on the opposite side—and had a long jaw,265 which ended in our entering Hintza’s country for the moment as friends, and sending off for him. But no Kafir was to come near us with an assagai. The Kafir was a clever fellow, and wanted me to name a place to meet Hintza. I told him Hintza should have been on the river to meet the Governor, and we should march on until Hintza came. His Excellency was satisfied, so I said, “Now, sir, let us cross immediately.” He was full of two or three little doubts, fears, military precautions, when I could stand it no longer, and roared out, “Mount!” “Now, General,” I said, “I will cross, and you will see every fellow fly before me. Then pray send the whole army on.”

It was as I said. The fellow with whom I had the parley came up to me on my ascent from the river and told me he would desire the people to keep out of my way and would lead me wherever I might like to go. He is a most civil, athletic savage, 6 feet 3 inches high. He is now sitting with me, having eaten half a sheep, and his manner is really very fine. He liked my gingered tea exceedingly, but could not bear brandy. We have just had a visit from three of Hintza’s councillors. He himself is in the upper country. We have told them what I have before stated, and they are to send off for their king immediately. They promised fairly, and seemed terribly frightened when we threatened them with Fakoo in their rear.

I can talk Kafir wonderfully—Asapā, “come here”; A Bāmbā, “good-bye”; Ekwee, “yes”. Now that is a great deal to learn in one day, besides crossing a river and getting over a flock of sheep rather than soldiers, pleasing a master, writing nonsense to an “auld wife,” and orders for the camp, blowing up fifty people at least, shaking hands with some fifty Kafirs, and giving them tobacco, and a breakfast to two of them, who were highly delighted. The graceful air and gentlemanlike manner in which they thank you is really astonishing. No French marquis of the ancien régime could exceed their bow and expression of countenance. The knowledge they have, too, of passing events is totally surprising. They are perfect politicians, and talk to me of the general policy of our countries.

4 o’clock, 16 April.
On the road to Butterworth, Hintza’s residence.
Gona Camp, 7 miles over the Kei.

Hallifax, who literally loves me, has made a fort, which he and Bingham—the impudent rascals!—call Fort Harry, just above Fort Willshire; and last night they sent me a copy of a drawing they have made of it, and which I send to you. It is a very useful little work, I assure you, and must be admired by you because its name is Harry.

Old Pato has just arrived with the waggons and one of his chiefs, come, he said, to learn the news. He has sent a message to his cousin Hintza. Old Pato says Hintza is a great chief. We must wait patiently with him, and give him time. He is a great chief. So I told him, great or small, if he or a messenger from him were not in to-morrow, I would be at his people immediately. At this old Pato and his captain laughed fit to kill themselves. They are two monkey-faced rascals, but they are dressed like Dutchmen, and really very well-behaved fellows. Adios por el momento.

17th April, 4 o’clock in the afternoon.

After rather an uninteresting march, the country being very monotonous, here we are in the most beautiful and highly cultivated valley, close to Hintza’s residence and immediately in front of the missionary institution of Butterworth, formerly occupied by Mr. Ayliff, but now abandoned. We breakfasted in a nice little ravine with good water and visits innumerable from the Fingoes, whose cattle are grazing all around us, giving the air of harmony, peace, and confidence. These Fingoes are a race of men formerly dispersed by Dingaan’s tribe. They took refuge in Kafirland, and are but ill treated and little looked upon by the Kafirs. They are exceedingly inclined to befriend us, and if Mr. Hintza is not what I know he will be, we will arm all these Fingoes and use them as an instrument of vengeance against their oppressors. They are a fine athletic set of fellows.

Master is very communicative to me, and, I am vain enough to think, takes my advice, but it is difficult to advise. My mind is not enough awake to the subject. When the responsibility is mine, my versatile disposition turns the subject in a thousand ways, and at daylight a bright ray of intellect has heretofore been kind enough to say, “Enrique, do so-and-so.” It is really astonishing when I reflect upon my late career; everything has occurred to me as if by inspiration. All my little successes have flashed across my mind in an instant, and have been to the utmost of my power as instantly put into execution.

Midday, Saturday 18th.

One of Hintza’s principal councillors, who came to us the first day, has just come in with a long tail, and claims an audience. He is a little shrewd-looking old fellow with a tiger-skin karosse, and brings as a present and token of good faith and amity a bullock.

We have given him a saddle and bridle, and oh, the delight of the fellow! Thirty-five are sitting round me, having thrown off their karosses, as naked as they were born, one, a great orator, holding forth to the honour of the British nation—I dare say a great humbug; however, we can humbug too. I have just given all of the councillor’s tail a piece of tobacco, and his orator a tinder-box; also to two a knife apiece, and oh, such kissing of hands! He says Hintza will be here to-night or to-morrow.

7 o’clock.—Oh, it has just begun to lighten tremendously, and the thunder rolls ten thousand cannon. Such vivid lightning I scarcely ever saw, like a blue light at sea, and lasting almost as long. Heavens, what a storm! I must shut up my desk. Good God, how it blows and rains and lightens! The candle is almost flapped out with the walls of the tent; I will finish this page though, if possible, rain or no rain. Viva Mr. Hintza’s country! You are a changeable fellow, hot and cold, wet and dry, light and dark in a moment. Blow, rain, thunder, lighten, but pray let me write to my poor old wife, for I can’t go to my bed yet, the rain so spatters through my tent.

Evening of the 19th, Sunday.

About 2000 Fingo captains have come in to say they must return into the colony with their wives and families, which will be granted them, so that I shall have a pretty increase of my cares. These are, as I have before told you, real game fellows, and, supported by my best of Hottentots, will drive more cattle out of the kloofs on the bed of the Kei in one day than we could in a week. It will be a measure of great policy, too, to bring with us a settlement of people so well disposed towards us and place them upon our new frontier. They appear to be of a much more docile nature than the wild Kafir, whose head is mischief and heart deceit.

I therefore hope to see them and their families comfortably located on a good ground and their huts built before winter, and hereafter they must be taught to build cottages. I feel convinced that nothing would tend to the civilization of these poor people more than domestic comfort in a nice cottage in place of lying all together like dogs in a kennel.... Good-night, my soul, my love, my wife.

Enrique.

9 o’clock at night, 19th April.

I have just received a deputation of royal blood. The look-out officer reported to me that about one hundred Kafirs were coming towards the camp in a friendly manner and without assagais, so off I started with my orderlies to meet them, making sure they were from Hintza. On my approach I halted them, and desired one to come out, when out came a tiger-karosse man. He said he was the captain, Kuba, come to pay his respects to the Governor, and asked the news, which is their mode of wishing to know whether we are friends or foes. I told him that four of his people might come with him, and I would then conduct him to the Governor. The Governor told them the news was with Hintza. This was all they could get from him, but he was very civil.

We encamp in a very curious way—not as in the Peninsula, the General some distance from the camp. We are all in a square, the troops outside, the General and staff and all the commissariat and oxen and waggons within. Sentries outside of the whole.

I have just returned from poor old Master, who now is very kind to me, and treats me with the most marked attention. He said, “Well, have you sent the sketch of yourself to Mrs. Smith?” “Oh yes.” “Do you know what Michell says?” “No, sir.” “Why, that if he could get you to stand still for one minute, he could make a perfect likeness of you.” “By God, sir, I have not time to stand still.” “I believe you,” said the old boy; “you have not stood still;” and he shook my hand.

20th April.

I have just ordered Bruintjes to bring me a camp-kettle lid full of embers, and now am quite warm. Such a cold day as this would put me in a fever about you, were you here, lest you should get cold, lest you should not have all you want. For years now (that horrid thing, Time!) you have been accustomed to luxury. When I was first troubled with you, you were a little, wiry, violent, ill-tempered, loving, always faithful, little devil, and kept your word to a degree which at your age and for your sex was as remarkable as meritorious. How often have I admired you for it! Had it not been for your own good sense and faith to me, I should not have had my dearest love as a young woman, nor an old Boba to whom to pour out the feelings of an affectionate heart. But please Almighty God, I shall have this old woman with me, until we both dwindle to our mother earth. And when the awful time comes, grant we go together at the same moment!

It is time we changed our camp. This delightful valley, so beautiful in its crops of Indian and Kafir corn, the hills around, so luxuriantly clothed with grass, are all now eaten off or trod down by the innumerable bullocks, horses, and animals we have with us, and bear the countenance of what you have so often seen—war and devastation. When we march to a fresh bivouac, all is again green and gay.

‍“Battle over, sleep in clover;
  Who so happy as we in camp?”

Answer, “Enrique with his Juana at Charlie’s Hope.” Oh, I must tell you of the compliment the Kafirs paid me the other day by calling me a beauty! They yesterday, after looking at my feet in my brown boots, asked the interpreter where I put my toes, and then like great baboons they laughed at their own wit, so that we all turned to and laughed also.

The soldiers were very much amused yesterday with me, when cross-questioning one of the Hottentot deserters. I asked his name, which was—what do you think?—Henri Smith! By Jupiter, how the fellows laughed! However, I had my jaw too by saying, “All Smiths are sharp, active-looking fellows, and so is our deserter rascal.”

I am glad to see those rogues leave the Kafirs. Nothing disheartens the brutes so much as the supposition that you know what they are doing. They will, on account of it—we are given to understand—change their plans even. It is just so with a wild beast (you were a sportswoman once, you know, dearest). Head a wolf, fox, hare, any bête de chasse, and it will change its whole plan of escape immediately. So it is with the Kafir.

10 o’clock, 20th April.

Somerset’s division, or rather the débris of it, has just arrived in twos and threes, forty times worse than the army of Burgos was in the pig-shooting days which you witnessed. This is the way in which it has marched these three days. To-morrow His Excellency inspects this division (what a name for it!), and I will answer for it we will still muster a few horses fit to do something.

23rd April, daylight.

My fifty Fingoes just coming in like Trojans. I have ordered each 3 pounds of meat. Upon my word, I never saw anything so fine as my fifty Fingoes, all with their assagais and their shields, and singing as they marched along, all aroused as if the blood of their forefathers was flowing through their veins, when their nation was independent and important amongst the other savages. They then gave me a war-whoop, and jumped, and then sang again most melodiously in a deep sonorous voice, with a most harmonious bass. Nothing villainous in their countenances, but full of heroism and fine feeling.

9 at night.—Oh, such a Johnny Raw as old John Bell sent up to us to-day, young ——! The General did not know what the devil to do with him, and sent for me. I soon appointed him a Volunteer to the 1st Provisional Battalion, and as he had neither tea, sugar, coffee, nor brandy, he was a pleasant fellow to join a half-starved officers’ mess. I set him up with 2 lbs. tea, 4 lbs. sugar, 4 lbs. coffee, and a canteen of brandy, with this good advice: “Be broad awake, sir, and learn to speak quick.” I was very near telling him to get his hair cut. Tell dear old John to send us no more such trash.

Bivouac on the T’solo, a small stream running into the T’somo,
which runs into the Kei, 30th April, 1835.

Viva Enrique!

Mi Queridissima Muger,

Since the 24th, I have not been able to talk with you, and in these six days your old man has worked wonders. Hintza dined with me yesterday, and is my son.

On the morning of the 24th instant, His Excellency having waited nine days for a communication from Hintza and none arriving, proclaimed hostilities to a chief named Kuba (Lynx-eyes), and fired a gun in great ceremony. Knowing pretty well that nothing but the most vigorous and indefatigable exertions would bring this fickle chief to terms, I had a little bit of an army of both divisions told off for me, with which I immediately commenced operations, the results of which are detailed in the accompanying two letters. With them I send my dear old woman a copy of the General Order on the subject.

On the afternoon of yesterday, on my return, His Excellency, who was most highly delighted at my success, informed me that on the 27th and the 28th, he had received communications from Hintza, but he had refused to treat with any one but himself. “Right, sir,” says I, “by G—d.” He continued, “This afternoon you will see him himself, or I am the most deceived of men.” (However, I held in readiness a detachment of fresh troops to march against Boku at two o’clock in the morning on a fresh venture.)

About four our picquets reported a body of horsemen coming in. We sent out Beresford to meet it, and in rode the Great Chief, a very good-looking fellow, and his face, though black, the very image of poor dear George IV. He seemed perfectly satisfied of his safety among us, and acted majesty with great dignity, though nearly naked like the rest. He said to the Governor that he was ready to proceed to business.

His Excellency, therefore, read sentence by sentence a long story of grievances, which our interpreter spoke. Hintza paid great attention, occasionally made a remark, and when it came to the terms on which we would make peace, he sighed two or three times; then gave a toss of his head and said he would consider of them.

I asked him to dine with me. He and one of his councillors came, and you would have laughed to have seen us all. He fed himself very well, ate enormously, drank only water, but lots of coffee, with pounds of sugar in each cup. After dinner he began politics. I soon saw he was for coming to terms. He said he looked upon me as his Father. I therefore soon cleared my tent of all but myself, the Interpreter, Hintza, and one of his councillors. In deep whispers he proceeded to talk over the present state of affairs, pointed out the insubordination of many of the chiefs under him, and, to make a long story short, we swore eternal amity and friendship and privately concluded peace on our terms. The whole was to be publicly ratified in the morning.

I stuck to my son, turned out all the troops, and assembled all the officers. The Governor appeared at their head, I and Hintza and his councillors opposite. I having pledged myself to be his patron and answer to the Governor for his fidelity (which highly pleased him), he then ratified all the conditions of our treaty and shook hands with the Governor and with me.

I then said, “Now let it be proclaimed far and near that the Great Chief Hintza has concluded a peace with the Great King of England, and let the cannon fire.”

Three guns were loaded and fired in succession accordingly. Hintza was delighted. All our prisoners had been released. We had a capital breakfast together, and soon after gave him his presents. I never saw a creature so delighted. He swears by me. The main points of our treaty are these (there are several minor ones)—that he shall within five days give up 25,000 head of cattle and 500 horses, and that this day twelvemonth he shall pay 25,000 more and 500 more horses. He is to place two hostages in our hands for the fulfilment of his treaty, but as to hostages, he says, “Why, I will remain with you myself.” He is to order the rebel chiefs to submit, and to consider our enemies his. I am quite amused with the fellow. Now, old woman, I give myself more credit for my negotiations than anything else, and God knows I have been the humble instrument for concluding this arduous and laborious war most satisfactorily. I have followed the enemy everywhere, driven him out of every den, captured 25,000 head of cattle in all, and concluded an honourable peace. The poor Excellency is most delighted. The labour I have encountered from the morning of the 24th to the afternoon of the 30th has astonished everybody, nay, even myself. It is nearly equal to my ride up from Cape Town.

Hintza’s son is just come in, a very fine young man about nineteen or twenty. I am to have the honour of his company at dinner, with that of his papa, my son.... Oh, to-day my heart was full to overflowing! I had taken prisoner the brother of a chief called Chopo. I told him yesterday that he or his brother must pay 500 bullocks for his ransom. Then he said, “My liberty is a hopeless case”; and he sighed and looked so melancholy, I quite pitied him. He was a very handsome, nice youth. After peace was proclaimed, I sent for him and liberated him, and I declare he made such demonstrations of real gratitude, that the poor savage saw a tear steal down my cheek. I could not help it. Poor fellow, how delighted I was to have it in my power to confer the great boon of liberty on a poor fellow-creature!—almost a reward for my labour, I declare.

To-morrow we begin to turn our heads towards home, but we must wait for the cattle. Hintza has sent in all directions for it, and it is to be here in five days from to-morrow’s sun.

How you would laugh to see me walking about the camp with Hintza leaning on my arm!

Four o’clock, 30th April.

What do you think has been my occupation for this last half-hour? One very much in my way. Stringing a large necklace of glass beads for young Hintza. I have just hung it round his neck in three rows.

1st May.

Just four months to-day since I left you, dearest. What a time it does appear! Good heavens! four years at least.

There never were such game fellows as these Hottentots. The other night in the Kei, after a terrific march, when we got up to the enemy, I halloed them on like a pack of hounds, and, upon my word, they flew past me through the bush like buffaloes, making everything crack before them.

Only fancy, my dear old woman, what must have been my five days’ late campaign. I never shaved from the 24th to the evening of the 29th, nor did I ever comb my hair. My toothbrush my only luxury. I changed my pantaloons because in a cattle hunt the mimosa bushes literally tore them off. The difficulty of obtaining information where anything is going on occupies every moment one has off horseback. One of the days I was out, Paddy Balfour—meaning well, God knows—sent my led horses with the infantry, and at night I had the gratification to find myself 25 miles from them. We had lots of cattle, but killing and eating two hours after dark is rather a bore. Luckily, one of the men gave me a bit of tongue—no salt nor biscuit, but I was delighted with it. Next morning, on joining the infantry, having had no cup of coffee, I was so hungry, by heavens! I could have bit a piece out of my wife’s shoulder, when one of the escort hauled out of a dirty haversack a bone of a goat, which he had already had a gnaw at. So I turned to at that, and gnawed it as greedily as little Moira seizes everything out of one’s hand. However, after joining my horses, I had a real good breakfast, and we then marched 25 miles over mountains steeper than the Pyrenees, and the weather down in the Amava was exceedingly hot. However, we have overcome all difficulties.

8 o’clock in the evening, 1st May.

I have written a very long letter to dear old John Bell. I wish I could let him be behind the scenes in one of my councils with the chief. Such rascals as they are, trying to overreach you. My delight is for a long time to keep playing with them, as though thoughtlessly about to concede their request, then suddenly to turn round when they least expect it, show them what they are aiming at, and then say, “No, decidedly not. A man never changes ‘the word.’ It is written—the cannons have fired.” This figurative and metaphorical mode of speech they are very fond of. I carry on all our negotiations in this way, until it comes to the point. Then I disrobe the question and put it in plain matter-of-fact language. Altogether it is good fun for the moment, but I can see that as these rascals are bereft of their fears they will become troublesome and try every shift in their power.

We expect Thomson up daily. Master and he will have a long ride or two—I think to decide on eligible spots for a line of posts along the Kei. It is decided we take possession of all this country; but as yet we have not touched upon it to Hintza, to whom it matters but little, as we take possession of no territory belonging to him personally, but of a large portion of his brother Boku’s. There does not appear to be any particular love between the two.

2nd May, 5 o’clock.

Just going to send His Majesty his coffee. I sent him one cup yesterday morning, and asked if he would have any more He said, “Oh yes; I have a large belly.”

Later.—On the march to-day met Boku coming in with 20 cattle—all the Colonial cattle he has, the villain.

We had a great scene in camp to-night. There are about 150 followers of these chiefs in camp, and some of them have been murdering the poor wretches of Fingoes, who have placed themselves under our protection. So His Excellency got very naturally irate and blew them up considerably. After to-day’s march I recommended that all their assagais should be given up. By way of intimidation Hintza said his people would throw them. So I said I was delighted. I went in amongst them and ordered them to lay down their assagais. They began to untie them and really get ready to throw. So I laughed like the devil, and in a voice like thunder ordered the picquet of thirty men standing with their left flanks towards them about fifty yards off to wheel up to its left, which brought their front immediately opposite the group of Kafirs, at the same time ordering my corps of Guides to file round their rear. The cowards were electrified, and immediately roared out, “Oh, we will give them up! we will give them up!” and in two minutes they were collected. I then went in amongst them with tobacco, and oh, such fun as I had throwing it in amongst them and making them scramble for it!

Hintza, who is really gentlemanlike in his manner, his brother Boku, another brother, and Kreili—Hintza’s son—dined with me. And I made them laugh too, although at first they pretended to be rather sulky at their men’s arms being taken away. I allowed the chiefs to retain theirs.

Cox reports that Tyalie, etc., are in a state of the most miserable alarm. He cannot get near any of them. They are flying about in small parties, literally afraid for their lives.

3rd May, 10 at night.

My son Hintza and I have been at loggerheads very much this afternoon. I let him alone all day, although I could see he was doing nothing nor intending to do anything. At 4 o’clock I summoned him, Boku, and their great councillor Umtini to a talk, and demanded that the two messengers should go to Tyalie and Macomo. They struggled in every possible way. I stormed with the Articles of Treaty in my hand, marched down an additional picquet, doubled the sentries, and then said, “Hintza, my son, I am pledged to the Governor for your faith, and my head is likely to be cut off for your infidelity, so that if you do not fulfil every tittle of the Articles of Peace, we will carry you, Hintza, Boku, Vadana, and your son Kreili, with us into the Colony and keep you until the good faith we have expected from you be extracted by force.”

You never saw fellows more astonished. I then made Hintza and his great councillor Umtini come and dine with me. Hintza and he at first were awfully dull, but ate a good dinner. I had six sentries around my tent. After dinner I cleared it of all but the Interpreter, and then said, “Now we will have a talk, and I will again ‘give you the word.’” The sentries were told off, and when I said, “Are you there?” every man was to roar out, “Yes, sir.”

We parted friends, he in a funk, his followers all disarmed. I marched him down to his tent with ten sentries. Ninety men of the 72nd Regiment are round him, and every minute I make them sing out “All right! All right!” from sentry to sentry. En la moda Española, “Sentre alerte? Alerte soy.”

Poor devils! If Hintza had been educated and had lived among well-disposed Christians, he would have been a very fine fellow. I like him and Umtini, but I hate all the rest except young Kreili, his son, who is a very nice modest youth.

4th May. Monday morning, daylight.

Did I tell you that last night Hintza said he had rather at once pay the 50,000 head than half in a year? To this I agreed. I have therefore promised Hintza that if in five suns more he brings us the whole of our demand, I will return him 5000 bullocks and 100 horses. Probably this may act upon him, for he will certainly keep them for himself.

6 o’clock, 4th May.

My Royal Son has grown particularly modest or cold, for he asked me to give him a pair of pantaloons. I gave him two. His delight when you give him anything is quite “estraordinary.”

Oh! to-day the uncle of Maquay came in to see me. He says (literally) his heart is full to me for my kindness when I might have taken his life. All his wives thank me, and he will never cease to love me. When he went away, he held my hand, kissed it, and bid me good-bye, wishing me all the cattle in the world! A fine manly-looking fellow. When he was quite out of sight, I sent for him back and made him several presents. His gratitude almost overflowed. I let him go first to see if he came in the hope of getting something, but no, it was pure gratitude. One can scarcely consider such a being a savage. If so, he had better remain in his present state.

Poor devils! these little opportunities of kindness make me very happy for the moment. It is hardly fair so to frighten them, but without it nothing can possibly be done with them.

I was perfectly satisfied with the message sent to-day to Tyalie and Macomo. I summoned Hintza and all the royal personages into my presence and desired them to send their message to the rebels. Hintza told Boku to speak. He did so very slowly and impressively to the purport I wished.

5th May, an hour before daylight.

They trumped up a tale in the camp last night that the Kafirs were going to make an attempt that night to rescue their chiefs, by help of a body without. I laughed at it most heartily, but as Master placed much credit in it as a likely thing to occur (very likely!), why, to please him I took the necessary precautions, as he terms it. Amongst others, I desired Captain Murray of the 72nd, should the attempt be made, to go in very quietly to Hintza’s and Boku’s tent and put them to death, but not to do so until there was a probability of a rescue; so their escape was pretty well provided for, I think.

All is quiet, however, as I ventured to anticipate, contrary to the opinion of all other persons, or nearly so, in camp; but they none of them have been quite so often on outlying picquet as you have been, or accustomed to the little constant services of danger on which I have been for a number of years. (What a conceited old rascal you are, Mr. Enrique!)

This is the 5th sun; now for the faith of my son. I expect some of the 25,000 head, but not all, because I know he has not had time to fetch it since the Peace, so far off had he driven it.

Oh, how all that delay at Grahamstown has altered everything! It might have been all over a month ago, the farmers in their homes, the families who had suffered from the invasion in possession of cattle and roofing their houses or rebuilding them; land apportioned to those who wished for it in the new boundary; every Kafir tribe dreading the name of an Englishman from the rapidity as well as force with which he strikes; thousands of pounds saved to our country; and last, but by no means least, I at home with my dearest faithful wife.

2 o’clock.—I have just given out the order of march for the 1st and 2nd Divisions for to-morrow, the 6th; the latter to cross the Kei, and continue its march back to the Colony with the captured cattle, Fingoes, etc., and all the impedimenta; the first division to move into the camp just on this side of the Kei, where we halted and bivouacked the first day after we crossed.

My tent just filled with Dutchmen come to bid me good-bye. They all march to-morrow, thank Heaven. I do pity them; but if ever Job had had to deal with them, I feel satisfied he would not have acquired his character for patience. I am liked by them, however, and, notwithstanding the many rowings I have given them, am glad to part friends with all that are good for anything.

Afternoon.—The poor Boers keep coming in to bid me good-bye, and with all their hearts. God knows, it is with all my heart I say good-bye. I would never attempt to learn Dutch now. Such is my horror of the language, a bevy of beautiful maidens could not tempt me into a Dutch parley.

9 at night.—The Clarksbury party have at last arrived—lots of parsons; and we march to-morrow towards the Kei.

Boku was to have brought 600 head of cattle in to-day for the murder of Purcell and Armstrong. His messengers came after dark, bringing in nineteen head. So I sent Paddy Balfour to kick them out of camp, and the Interpreter to Boku to say I had done so.

Later.—I have just given Kili, or Kreili, a necklace for his mother. The youth was quite delighted. You cannot conceive a more handsome half-black fellow. He has such a gentlemanlike figure. At first I thought he wanted intellect, but to-day I find it is nothing but modesty. We were talking of the Kei and the rivers which fall into it, when he became quite eloquent, and described the great river, its source, and tributary streams far better than his father or the prime minister. My Royal guests were in great spirits indeed. Hintza talked much about his fifteen queens. They have increased five lately. At first he acknowledged to only ten. He says he loves them much. He never ceases to think of them, when I do not bring out the long paper. He is always horrified at the long paper. I told him to-night we were going to cross the Kei to-morrow. He said, “Very well; I am doing all I can about the cattle, but I, like others, must have time. I cannot perform impossibilities. The cattle are so far off, they could not be here within the five suns.”

Morning of the 6th.

The day has turned out so wet, I have been obliged to countermand the march of the two Divisions. The roads here are so steep and so slippery in descending and ascending to and from the Kei, they are totally impassable to the waggons. Therefore discretion says “halt,” and patience says “the devil.”

If you were to see how Paddy Balfour works for me now, how he tries to have all my things about me right and comfortable! And in the field he is a very useful and a proper plucky fellow, and now knows something about his business, as do a very few more of them—ignorant enough at first, but all, all, most ready and willing to learn. They fly to obey, nay, even anticipate my wishes. Thank God! I never wish to serve with a nicer set of fellows.

How it does rain! Well, a fine day to-morrow. How it used to rain in the Pyrenees, ti acordas, mi pobrecita?266 Oh, how I pitied you some days, although I never said so! But the most varmint thing you ever did was to get on your horse that cold day and ride to Mont de Marsan to return the poor kind woman her bridal basin.267 No person on earth but you would have done that.

I do not think I told you that in one of his notes to me Master expressed a wish that I would move Cox’s 3rd Division from the immediate vicinity of the enemy, that is, from the Amatola to Brownlee’s missionary station on the Buffalo, at the point where the high-road crosses into Kafirland. I said, “What is the object, sir?” “Oh,” he says, “then the army will be concentrated.” “Sir,” I said, “the sole object I have aimed at and studied is to send the troops in every direction in detachments strong enough to protect themselves, because such is the practice of the enemy. I have never yet sent out any detachment that they did not do something, either take some cattle or a horse or shoot a Kafir or two.” So he said, “Very well, let the 3rd Division remain where it is.” However, to please him, I have sent 300 of Van Wyk’s 4th Division there, because it does not matter whether they are there or in any other place, they are so sick of the war, although they have done much and good service and are real game and plucky fellows. So by agreeing in trifles, as I told you, I succeed in getting the essentials as I like.

Ah! all this is very fine, but I am naturally so lazy a fellow I long to be back again. I do not mind the fox-hunting part of it, but the dry official writing is awful.

Hija, I have just thought of a very nice amusement for you, and one which would be very probably hereafter useful to me. Copy in a book everything descriptive of what we have done, my scenes with my followers, my descriptions of the war, Kafir chiefs, policy, etc., in short, everything but my touterias.268 The rest I will some day publish in the life and adventures of Harry and Jenny Smith.

7th May.

This wet weather does put me in mind of the Pyrenees—that cold camp we had on the very top of them, when our tent was floored with large cold stones, the only time I ever smoked a little, when you made me a little paper segar, and tea, too, to drink with it.

It is so cold, too; however, cold or no cold, in future, if I campaign again in a friend’s country, my Juana must be of the party; I cannot again be separated. But in this savage warfare, it would have been folly, nay, the height of cruelty, to have brought you.

Half-past 12.—Hang the rain! it has begun again as hard as ever.

Oh, how I see you now, I think, at Government House in your fancy dress, your dearest shape so divulged, aquella gracia Española, the remembrance of our youthful days and what you have gone through for me, brought back by the costume; all the room admiring you and your dress, and in that room one heart in which the universal admiration is concentrated, because he knows that love of a woman is his own, and knows what others do not—the qualities of her mind, the generosity of her heart, the superiority of her character, void of all littleness, the strength of mind of a noble-hearted man, the soft feelings and affection of the most delicate of her sex!—

“Yet are Spain’s maids no race of Amazons,
But framed for all the witching arts of love.”

I see you sitting thus dressed at dinner. How I watch you sometimes when I see you animated, your dear full bosom heaving, your eyes flashing fire, whilst with a heart of innocence and joy you are recounting some of our old campaigning stories, and the listeners wonder that a creature so delicately framed could have endured such awful fatigue and for one unworthy of her! Oh, God bless her!

5 o’clock.—My master has just sent me a confidential communication which in the strictest confidence I impart to my own soul for her, her sacred ear alone. It is a copy of his ultimate treaty of peace with Hintza when the latter has fulfilled the engagements of his former treaty; a copy, that is to say, of his proclamation declaring the territory conquered up to the Kei to belong to his Britannic Majesty, including the territory beyond the T’somo. That is, the new boundary-line of this colony is to extend to the sea, up the Kei, following the course of the T’somo to the Stormberg. It will include a most magnificent track of country, I assure you.

The whole is framed upon various conversations which I have had with him.

I have just sent for Umtini, and have desired him to tell Hintza that as two days have passed beyond the time named in the Treaty and he has done next to nothing to fulfil it, he, his son, Boku and Vadana with their retinue, are our prisoners-of-war, and that we now demand the 50,000 cattle and the 1000 horses before he is liberated. Umtini began a parley, but as usual I took hold of the Treaty of Peace, thumped it and gave him “the word,” then assumed the civil and asked him what he wanted. He said, a sheep, some biscuit, and some tobacco. We shook hands, and so we parted.

9 o’clock at night.

Just done dinner. We had Major White there, the Assistant Quartermaster-General, a very excellent fellow, very fond of me and argument. I never argue except with old Johnstone, but White, Murray, and Beresford had plenty to say, laying down the law about everything. These kind of conversations make one laugh sometimes, but oh! how I do hate man’s society; the same monotonous ideas day after day. Give me strong exercise all day and lots of women to talk with at dinner, and then to my own home with my own. But times alter, and so do I. Give me my own fireside, my own wife, my dogs, my horses, my domestic happiness, and let me alone.

Just finished a very long and laborious report for His Excellency, with comments upon his ideas of the new frontier line its defence, and the force to be kept in the field for the purpose of driving the hostile tribes, even though they make peace with us, across the Kei. Near us they cannot stay. I differ very little in a general point of view from my Master, but he is for not occupying a post nearer than thirty miles to the Kei, I am for occupying a more advanced one, within ten or eleven miles of it, and patrolling frequently up to it. There is a degree of weakness which I am averse to avow in proclaiming an extensive territory as ours, and not placing a soldier upon it within thirty miles of the boundary. These posts will be all fortified so as to prevent any aggression on the part of the enemy, and a moderate time after the proclamation I would shoot every Kafir not authorized to remain in our territory.

Head Quarters, east of the Kei, 8th May, 1835.

Now, my dearest old companion, comes the tug of war!

As I expected, but dare not previously say so, I am to be kept upon the frontier, Heaven knows how long! My Head Quarters are to be on the Buffalo, where there was a nice house, a missionary station. It has been burned, but as the walls stand it may soon be made habitable. Come to the welcoming arms of your faithful husband!

9th May.

On the Kei, ready to cross to-morrow, when a great ceremony will be performed, in proclaiming our conquered territory. The new boundary is to be the Kei. This is better than the T’somo, as the T’somo runs far too much in Hintza’s country.

How I long to get to the Buffalo, to see where and how I shall build our house! Williams of the Engineers is ordered up with Sappers, etc., and that is to be his first occupation. We are going to found a town there, to be called William’s Town; but this is a secret.

I fear this cunning rogue, Hintza, will give us some trouble ere we get the cattle. He is a shuffling scoundrel. I am making him go with me to-day on a bit of a tour. He says he can get the cattle if I can help.

God bless you, dearest woman; the pleasure I think on, dream on, is in some degree banished by a knowledge of the fatigue which you must undergo. God bless you! But when we meet we will forget all, and then, in light marching order, once more we will go together, together everywhere. As the old man campaigns so well, why should not the old woman?

Enrique.

Fort Smith, 18th May, 1835.
On the right bank of the Kei, about seven miles from it.

Viva Enrique!

This is the 9th day, and I have not sent a word to my dear old wife. The hand of the Almighty God has been again upon me. Since I last wrote to you from the other bank of the Kei, I have made one of the most extraordinary marches ever made by troops, but I enclose a copy of my despatch.

One day (Mr. Hintza’s, the scoundrel) was an awful one, I assure you. What with hunting him, and taking the cattle at night, I was rather done, I admit; but I had some mutton chops and coffee, and in an hour was fit again for a night’s march. At three o’clock did I again set off on a venture. Though it was not successful as to bullocks, it had a fine political effect, that in three days from the bed of the Kei, a British force was in sight of the bed of the Umtata, etc.

Oh! if I could but describe the countenance of Hintza when I seized him by the throat and he was in the act of falling. A devil could not have breathed more liquid flame. I shall never forget it. I have his bracelets for you, and, what is more, the assagai he sent flying after me, as also his bundle. The pains I took to conciliate and treat kindly that savage! A pack of fox-hounds would have followed me all over the world with a half of it, but such blackguards as these fellows are, cannot be described. They are the most determined and practised liars in the universe.

We do not march till the day after to-morrow, for all I can say and do. But being now within the Colony, it is quite ridiculous how much at home we feel. I had a long letter from Cox to-day. He has had an interview with Tyalie and Macomo, who are anxious for peace. I know not what they will think of our having taken possession of their country.

Poor man! what a loss Major White is to us all! He lived with me, poor fellow, and we were mutually much attached. I have told him a thousand times what would occur. I even on one occasion forbad his going with me, only he promised so faithfully to stay with the column. He is universally regretted.

19th May.

This day at 12 o’clock we liberated Kreili, Vadana, his uncle, Sotoo, a councillor, and Nomsa, a councillor, and Piet Chingele, a half-Hottentot villain—Kreili having agreed to fulfil his father’s treaty of peace.

We march to-morrow, leaving Warden with eighty Kat River Legion, one officer and twenty men, Cape Mounted Rifles, eighty of the 72nd Regiment, and one howitzer.

This is the advanced post of my command, and forty-eight miles from my Head Quarters, the Buffalo or William’s Town.

20th May.

Marched from the Kei, and arrived and bivouacked on the Gonoube Hill, above the river of that name, at three o’clock, and immediately chalked out a redoubt to contain fifty men; Lester, 72nd Regiment, to command.

21st May.

All the troops at work at daylight finishing the redoubt, which is named Fort Wellington.

May 23rd, Buffalo River, and our winter quarters, which
is to be called King William’s Town.

The house, as I think I have before stated, has been burnt, but the walls and the chimneys are standing. We will soon, therefore, put a roof on to it, and it will be a snug little box enough. There is a capital garden full of fruit trees, young and flourishing peaches, apricots, plums, apples, pears, some vines; very rich land, and ground enough to grow quantities of Indian and Kafir corn.

The site for the town is beautiful. The main road will run through it, and the river also. It will be perfectly magnificent.

The poor old Governor is so kind to-day. At dinner I asked Thomson where we could get rafters for the house. “Oh, we must cut them where we can.” “No,” says Master, “let the dimensions be immediately taken and I will send off express to Grahamstown for them.” I felt this more than anything, because I often talk to him about you, and he saw I was pleased. He is a wonderfully good-hearted man, and wants nothing but a little more nerve.

I will soon have up more soldiers. We are generally to have here about 1200 men. I only hope so many will not be assembled as to induce Government to send out a Major-General to supersede me.

King William’s Town, 26th May, 1835.

The old Master is all kindness to me. When he speaks of the new province, he always calls it “Your province.” I shall also have the command of the whole of the frontier from Algoa Bay to the Kei, or I would not stay.

8 o’clock at night, 27th May.

Had a most beautiful ride to-day, and took 17 head of cattle. Two milch cows, worthy a place in my dairy, have been placed there, and two, less valuable, have been discarded. I have named three places—one “Kempt’s Valley,” another “Barnard’s Vale” and “Ford,” a third “Hotham Hill.” I follow the bed of the Buffalo upwards to my estate. The road, which will be good, but is now a path, took us up to my estate and Murray Castle, where formerly I took 5000 head of cattle and on this occasion the present few. We crossed the river three times, all good fords but one, the stream most clear and beautiful, and each succeeding valley more calculated than the former for a village or a farm or anything. It is certainly a most beautiful country, this Province of Queen Adelaide.

King William’s Town, 7th June, 1835.

My own queridissima Muger,

I returned to Head Quarters last night after a foray of eleven days, during which I have again, thank God, rendered my country very essential service and the enemy considerable loss....

I mention all this to you to show how rejoiced I must have been on my return, after such hard labour, to receive your queridissima carta, telling me you were on the road, since the 4th June, Thursday.

11th of June, 8 o’clock at night.

His Excellency started very early this morning for Grahamstown. I have sent off Paddy Balfour to meet you, and my trusty ensign Low, with 20 of my most faithful Hottentots to accompany you, and never to quit your waggon. Paddy will also turn out 20 cavalry.

15th June.

I have had 30 men at work all day, and all the Artillery, poor fellows. The delight with which they do anything for me is quite amusing and gratifying, but I rather think all their labours are to please you, for I heard them talking of your nice house at Cape Town, and then to come and live here in a tent! The Scotchmen said it was “an awfu’ change,” and they all rubbed, and swept, and laughed, and I jawed, and gave them a glass to drink your health.

22nd June, midday.

Last night I would not write, hoping that by trying not to think quite so much of you I should not dream, and kick about so, and this morning I had so much to do I could not, but nothing would do. Oh, such nights as I pass! I really believe the sentry thinks I am mad, such questions I ask him. To-day it is raining like the deuce, so I am conjuring up flowing rivers again and 5000 impediments. How in the name of wonder did you get on when I was away from you? You had nothing to do. I to-day have plenty, but I can settle to nothing, and I am so irritable, I am quite ashamed of myself. I feel satisfied Balfour has reached you. This is a consolation to me, for I know he will exert himself, and take the greatest care of you, and he has been with me now long enough to learn how to overcome difficulties. God grant I may hear from Balfour to-day, and that to-morrow I may meet you at Fort Willshire.

24th June.

Surely this day we shall meet. Oh, such a night as I have had! I could neither sleep, nor toss about, nor dream, nor anything, but lie and listen, hoping every moment to hear the footsteps of horses crossing the ford, bringing me letters from you and Balfour, saying when—oh, when!—I was to be at Fort Willshire. Oh, such a merit as I make of it, when people ask me if they may go to fetch their wives! “D—— it, sir, I cannot go for my own,” although, poor fellows, I do so long to say, “Yes, you shall have leave.” But it must not be. There is plenty here for every one to do yet, and for more too if we had them. I imagine your itinerary: the 18th, Uitenhage; 19th, Quagga Flats; 20th, Grahamstown; 21st, halt; 22nd, Hermanus Kraal; 23rd, Willshire; 24th——. Oh, dare I hope it, my own dearest, that this night I shall receive thee?