Company Of Spears

Thanks to the fleetness of the lighters, and the address of the postal official and his steam barge, it took but a couple of hours to arrange for the officer commanding the frontier, and the district magistrate – the landdrost – of Port Elizabeth, to receive them. They met at the garrison headquarters, a thatched, stone-walled, single-storey affair the size and shape of the nave of a small English parish church. The officer commanding, Major Hearne of the 49th (Hertfordshire) Foot, greeted them cordially. Hervey had taken the precaution, though his friend wore only semi-military dress, of introducing Fairbrother as ‘Captain’ and aidant. The landdrost, a former officer in the Cape Regiment but now with a prospering farm and waistline, was equally welcoming. They explained that they were of course aware of the arrival of the new lieutenant-governor, and hoped that this presaged greater attention to the frontier, declaring very candidly that General Bourke appeared too encumbered with matters of economy to cast his customary soldier’s eye on the situation.

The four of them sat down to coffee – a fiercely strong liquid made from beans brought from the East Indies – and Cape brandy, much rougher than its French begetter, if not as strong.

‘How much am I to assume you know of the frontier, Colonel Hervey?’ asked Major Hearne.

The officer commanding the frontier was a little older than Hervey, with a broken nose and powder-burn scar on his cheekbone. It was the first time that Hervey could remember an officer of evident seniority – and experience – who was now his subordinate. ‘I have read what there is to read, Major Hearne, but I believe it would be better to assume no knowledge. I have scarce been at the Cape a month, after all.’

‘Very well, Colonel. Perhaps we need go back no further than to 1819. The Xhosa all but overwhelmed the settled frontier, even Graham’s-town. You may imagine they dealt most savagely with either sex. And they in turn were dealt with very severely, at Lord Charles Somerset’s perfectly reasonable bidding. But then, with a most contrary magnanimity, he proceeded to treat with them as if he were at the Congress of Vienna.’

Hervey sipped at his brandy. This much he knew, but he would not interrupt since it was as well to know what those at the frontier believed.

Major Hearne unrolled a map on the table. ‘The principal Xhosa chief was – is – a wily old bird named Gaika. Somerset had him sign a treaty which pushed the frontier east to the Keiskama River’ (he pointed to the map) ‘with the idea that the country between there and the Fish should not be settled, but patrolled to make sure the Xhosa weren’t encroaching – patrolled principally from here, Fort Willshire.’ He indicated the point on the Keiskama nearest the Fish, not five miles north-east, and ten miles due north of the ford and mil-itary post at Trompetter’s Drift.

Again Hervey knew this, but he studied the map closely nevertheless; there was nothing like the proximity of the country to give a map life. He saw that the furthest distance between the two rivers was perhaps twenty-five miles, about the same as from Fort Willshire to the sea, and if the same distance was patrolled north-west of the fort it meant a troop mounted on good horses might make a detailed reconnaissance of the unsettled territory in two days. If they were to make but a cursory search – if the Xhosa left spoor – they might do it in only one. He thought the territory a prudent ‘glacis’ if the Fish River was to be the true limit of the settler parties. But so rangy a border was bound to be a temptation to both sides. ‘And has the scheme been successful?’ he asked, not entirely expecting the answer to be ‘yes’.

‘To begin with, it was. The settlements were well regulated, all of them between the Bushman’s River and the Fish.’ The major glanced at the landdrost.