The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in Kaffirland. Ward
and his Staff were assembled, the unfortunate woman flung herself at the feet of the former, and embracing his knees exclaimed, “Can you not help me? you have power here; can you not give me back my husband and my child? you look a good man; can you do nothing for me? Ah! I know you will help me. Sir, I beseech you to give me back my husband and my child!” And this was only one of many scenes of distress.
Great praise was afterwards deservedly bestowed on our men for their steady conduct and ready obedience to their officers. The detachments of the 27th and Cape Mounted Riflemen deserved equal praise. Young men, too, they were—the average age of the battalion being scarcely more than twenty-one years. Many of them had never been drilled—never even had arms in their hands;—almost all the rest were volunteers from different regiments, and consequently little known to their superiors. The real cause, however, may be traced in the example shown them by their officers; and too much praise cannot be bestowed on Captain Bertie Gordon, to whose charge they fell on the senior officer’s leaving the ship. Young in years, and comparatively so in experience, he acted with a calmness, decision, and judgment, that give high promise of future good. Much more could I say on this subject, but that (as is the case with all high and generous spirits) he who most deserves praise is always the most unwilling to have it blazed abroad. All, however, must have esteemed themselves fortunate in falling under the command of one so able to do his duty under such trying circumstances.
It may not be irrelevant to say a word or two here on the subject of the frequent wrecks in Table Bay during the winter months, viz, in May, June, July, and August. Ships during these months are ordered to go round to Simon’s Bay, but this cannot always be done, as in our case. There had been a great deal of sickness on board during the whole of our voyage; three days before we made the land, three men belonging to the 91st regiment had died of typhus fever in the short space of thirty-one hours and a half, their bodies and their bedding being committed to the deep without one moment’s unnecessary delay. Fresh provisions and vegetables were thus most desirable, especially for the invalids. Simon’s Bay being between forty and fifty miles by sea, and twenty-three by land, from Cape Town, it was a point of great importance to disembark the troops if possible at the latter place. It must be remembered that it was only on arriving in Table Bay, when the commanding officer communicated with the Governor, that we learned we were to proceed to the frontier. It was also necessary to take in fresh stock. Furthermore, the wind (after we had been beating about the offing for three days in a calm) became favourable for entering Table Bay, the weather was remarkably fine, and the winter season at its close.
Our vessel was one of Soames’ finest ships, and for nearly a month after the wreck lay firmly imbedded in the sand; but the pieces of the hull of the “Waterloo” which were picked up on the beach, crumbled to dust in the hands of those who tried their strength. I have said thus much of ourselves, and I have said it impartially, because, in cases of shipwreck, the captain is frequently blamed for what he cannot help—for what, in fact, is a visitation of the Almighty. To the master of the troopship, as well as to Lieutenant Black, R.N., we were indebted, during the whole of the voyage, for the utmost attention and kindness; the more so as, from the unanimity subsisting between them, they were enabled to act together for the benefit of us all; and I think I cannot close this part of my narrative better than by publishing a letter written to Captain Young a few days after the wreck by Captain Bertie Gordon. (One equally complimentary was written to our esteemed friend Lieutenant Black.)
“Main Barracks, Cape Town, August 31, 1842.
“My dear Sir,
“As commanding the reserve battalion of the 91st Regiment at the time of the wreck of the transport ‘Abercrombie Robinson’ in Table Bay, I feel myself authorised to express my sense of your coolness, intrepidity, and readiness of resource, during those anxious hours of responsibility, when, from eleven o’clock on the night of the 27th of August, to daylight on the morning of the 28th, the lives of seven hundred souls depended, under God, on your firmness and seamanship. They are qualities essential in the commander of a ship at all times, and must be more than ever necessary when several hundred soldiers, women, and children, crowd his decks.
“They conspicuously distinguished your conduct throughout that night, whose scenes were too full of danger not to have impressed every one with the near possibility of destruction.
“The question of life or death seemed often to hang on each minute’s duration; but, through God’s mercy, your able conduct brought us safely through a host of perils.
“On the part of the officers, non-commissioned officers, and soldiers of the reserve battalion 91st Regiment, and of the detachments of the 27th Regiment and Cape Mounted Riflemen, then on board, I beg to offer our united acknowledgments of the praise and gratitude which your exertions so highly merited.
“I remain, my dear Sir,
“Very truly yours,
“Bertie E.M. Gordon, Capt. 91st Regt.
“The undersigned officers of the 91st Regiment, on board the ‘Abercrombie’ at the time of her being driven ashore on the morning of the 29th of August, beg to subscribe their names to the above letter of thanks.
“J. Ward, Captain 91st Regt.
“J.C. Cahill, Paym. Res. Batt. 91st Regt.
“J.H.E. Stubbs, M.D., Asst.-Surg. 91st Regt.
“J. McInroy, Ensign 91st Regt.
“Robt. Lavers, Ensign 91st Regt.”
Chapter II.
March to Graham’s Town
After six months’ residence at the Cape, at last we were suddenly hurried on board a transport for Algoa Bay, on the afternoon of the 24th of February, 1843; The agent, for the transport declared her quite ready for sea, but such proved not to be the case, and we were detained in harbour for three days, subject to many most unnecessary expenses and annoyances, as will appear from a few extracts from the journal that I began on shipboard.
“February 24th,—Hurried on board, in consequence of the signal for sailing being fired, and the agent for the owner of the ship sending us word she was ready for sea, and would sail in the afternoon. The heat quite overpowering, a hot wind prevailing—what a day for embarking at half-past two p.m.! The troops have already been on board four-and-twenty hours. Wind quite fair for getting out of harbour, with the prospect of a north-wester, which would suit us exactly if we were once out at sea. Much disappointed at not finding the Captain on board, and no prospect of even getting up the anchor. Asked the agent why he had fired the signal for sailing in the morning; he replied, ‘Because the ship and the troops were quite ready for sea.’ The ‘Malabar’ has just got under weigh, and is clearing the harbour with a fine breeze.
“Sunday, February 26th.—Cold and wet—the ship shockingly dirty. No prospect of the Captain. Some of the officers have got leave to go on shore. A wretched day, a heavy sea prevailing. Many people sick, especially on the lower decks, which are dark, crowded, and ill ventilated.
“A violent north-west gale all day and all night. I spent many hours of terror in remembering our wreck in Table Bay, in the ‘Abercrombie Robinson,’ in August. Ships should not be detained in Harbour in Table Bay without efficient reasons, especially troopships, containing hundreds crowded together.
“Monday, February 27th.—A man found dead on the lower deck, suffocated from the effects of drunkenness. Had we sailed when we ought to have done so, he would have had little chance of procuring liquor. The Captain of the ship, and the officers who obtained leave to go on shore yesterday, have come on board. Some prospect of sailing. Dead soldier sent on shore to be buried.
“Sailed at one o’clock.
“March the 1st.—We observed this evening a singular streak of light in the sky; no one able to account for it; it bore north-west from our position, steering as we were along the coast to the eastward.
“March 2nd.—The meteoric light greatly increased in size and brilliancy.
“March 4th.—Anchored in Algoa Bay, at eleven o’clock, a.m. The meteoric light, which has puzzled us all so much, turns out to be a comet, and increases in brilliancy every evening. Landed