THE DUTCH AND ENGLISH SETTLERS—FIRST TRIAL OF THE MINIE AT THE CAPE—I PART WITH HAPPY JACK—MARCH INTO GRAHAM’S TOWN—THE OFFICERS OF THE CORPS—COLONEL CLOËTE—SHORTCOMINGS OF THE SERVICE—THE COMMISSARIAT ORDERED TO FORT BEAUFORT—ARRIVE AT HEADQUARTERS.

As a rule, I found the settlers—English and Dutch—a fine, generous-hearted set of people; and many of them who read these lines may, I hope, think with pleasure of the happy times we passed together.

It was a great relief to get rid of my sick men, as I had no medical man with the corps; and the only medicines or pharmaceutical knowledge I possessed were gleaned from a small medicine-chest I had purchased at Port Elizabeth. It was one of the ceaseless threats of Happy Jack that I had had a man flogged without a medical man being present, and without having remedies at hand in case of accident.

The next day we proceeded to Mr Judd’s farm, some ten miles farther on the road. Here I had an opportunity of showing what the Minie rifle could perform. We were sitting under the veranda of Mr Judd’s house examining one of the men’s rifles, and I was explaining the advantage of a rapid twist with an elongated bullet having an expansive base, &c. Mr Judd asked if it would reach some bullocks which were grazing five or six hundred yards off, adding that I might try if I liked, for the cattle were his. To this I consented; and laying the rifle on the balcony as a rest, I singled out a bullock to his attention—fired. I had the satisfaction that, either from the whistling of the ball or from being actually struck, the mark had been attained, for the animal immediately started off at a trot. All doubts, however, soon came to an end; for the poor brute lay down, and before we could reach the spot, had died,—the ball had passed through its body. This, no doubt, was a great fluke; but it had the good result of proving the value of the weapon to the men (a great many were looking on while I fired), and also leading them to suppose I was a first-rate shot.

At this farm I also had the satisfaction of getting rid of Happy Jack. I afforded him the opportunity of deserting during the night, which he availed himself of; and I took particular care not to have him awakened the next morning as we departed, although I knew he was lying drunk in a cattle-kraal a short way off. Waine became much more humble after Jack’s desertion, and before we reached Graham’s Town had been restored to the ranks. So all fear of my being called up before a court-martial for flogging a man with an illegal instrument—which his belt undoubtedly was—soon disappeared.

We made a great sensation on our entrance into Graham’s Town: the gun-carriages, wrapped up in hay to prevent any ill effects from the heat of the sun, might be readily taken for real artillery. The men—mostly seafaring people, with big rounded shoulders, bronzed faces, and long hirsute appendages—might, for size and determination of look, compare advantageously with any troops in the colony. They also wore leather helmets somewhat similar to those now adopted in the service, which added considerably to their martial appearance; and altogether they presented to the beholder (who knew nothing of their bolting proclivities, as lately displayed in the Ada bush) a most formidable accession to her Majesty’s forces at the Cape.

It may not be out of place to give a slight outline of the officers who commanded my detachment.

My first lieutenant, ——, a near relative of Lord ——’s, was a tall, handsome fellow, who had been in her Majesty’s service, of rather loose habits; not wanting in pluck, but fonder of excitement over the card-table than in the field.

My second lieutenant was named H——d, an enthusiast on the mission of Christianity. He had been lately suffering from brain fever, and with his hair cropped short, tall, gaunt figure, and deep-set, glistening eyes, looked the modern representative of one of Cromwell’s Ironsides. In spirit, he was a man all over; and had he possessed more physique to ballast his mental faculties, would have left no inconsiderable mark in this world. As I pen these lines, I feel he was un grand homme manquÉ, and regret that a word I spoke during the heat of an engagement, and which he misinterpreted, caused him to resign.

My third lieutenant, named P——n, was a gentleman by birth, and had been in her Majesty’s service, but had advisedly resigned after having thrown a glass of wine in his superior officer’s face. He was of a tall, lusty figure, full of animal courage, and fond of animal enjoyment.

Sergeant-major Herridge I have already described.

Sergeant Beaufort had been in the Rifle Brigade: he was the handsomest man I perhaps ever beheld; with short, crisp, light chestnut locks, full, oval countenance, tall stature—six feet two inches—and well-rounded limbs. He looked the picture of what Richard Coeur de Lion might have been.

Sergeant Shelley had been in the 60th Rifles: a tall, lank fellow, with arms and legs on the move, like a windmill in a gale of wind—always threatening to fly off at a tangent, but nevertheless fixed to his post. He became very attached to me; and many a time, while thinking myself alone in the bush, Sergeant Shelley would appear at my side, with “All right, captain; here I am;” and all right it was, for the man was a host in himself, through his acuteness, strength, and daring.

Another character was Sergeant Dix. He had been a well-to-do confectioner in Cape Town, who had left pastry and the sweets of marriage life to join my corps, owing, it was surmised, to the depredations of an officer on the presiding goddess of his wedding-cake. Poor Dix! he used to make the men suffer to ease his own pains. Up and down the lines he used to fizz with his fat podgy legs, basting the men with the hot drippings of his marital wrath, until at last I was obliged to reduce him to the ranks, and install him as chef in my own cuisine. Such is a faint outline of the corps which I marched through the town, and encamped some three miles on the other side, owing to my well-founded dread of the grog-shops.

It was here that I first became acquainted with the shortcomings of the service.

Colonel CloËte, the Quartermaster-general, had no more idea as to the ammunition I had brought from Port Elizabeth than what he had to do with it. He knew, certainly, what requisitions he had received, but he knew no more than I did what reserves, not actually wanted, existed in those places. The waggons that brought the ammunition, and had given me such anxiety on the road, were left, during my ten days’ stay in Graham’s Town, in the open streets; not a sentry or guard of any sort—the Hottentot drivers, with pipes in their mouths, seeming the presiding guardians over British military stores.

The commissariat was in the hands of the tradesmen of the town: a Mr J——s (banker and merchant) seemed to have the whole charge of the provisioning of the army. He was exceedingly kind and courteous, a perfect gentleman in all his doings, but yet not the right person in the right place, I thought. Of the military stragglers in the town, they were the usual rag-tag and bobtail lot always to be found compassing the rear of an army actively engaged in the field.

After waiting twelve days, I at last received orders to proceed to Fort Beaufort. The men being in fair condition by this time, I determined to cover the distance (about forty miles) in two days. This was easily accomplished; and rather to the surprise of the Commander-in-chief, I presented myself at headquarters.