Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52King, William Ross
History
Campaigning in Kaffirland; Or, Scenes and Adventures in the Kaffir War of 1851-52
King, William Ross
South Africa -- History -- Frontier Wars, 1811-1878
The hospitable detachment gave us, notwithstanding the great scarcity
of provisions, a more substantial meal than we had seen for a long
time, to which we sat down twenty-one in number, at a long deal
table, in a bare whitewashed room; but as our kind entertainers had
been unexpectedly sent up to the empty fort from the field in "patrol
order," it was a much more difficult affair to provide a dinner service
than a dinner. At night we lay in our blankets on the floor, side
by side, and as we listened to the mountain storm raging without,
congratulated ourselves on sleeping under a roof, a luxury we had only
once before enjoyed since leaving Cork.
We visited Gordon again in the morning before starting for the camp,
and assisted the surgeon to dress his wounds and arrange his bed; and
sat as long as we possibly could wiping his brow and moistening his
lips. On leaving, he begged us to come over as often as we could to
see him during his probable long confinement in this lonely place,
which we promised to do, but never saw him again. After three days of
excruciating agony, the broken limb suddenly mortified, and he was
carried off in a few hours; so died this young soldier, alone in a wild
mountain fort, thousands of miles away from home and relatives, with
only a servant to witness his last moments.
Poor Ricketts, whose exquisite songs had so often enlivened our long
evenings, died the same day, having been gradually sinking for some
time previously. His death, which occurred some hours the first, was
purposely kept from Gordon, but the sound of the funeral volleys
reached his ear, and in a quiet voice he blamed his servant for not
telling him of it; in two hours after, a like salute was fired over his
own grave. His loss was sincerely mourned both by officers and men,
his honest sterling qualities, kindly heart, and dauntless bravery in
the field having endeared him to all.
Having commissariat cattle to escort to the camp for the troops, I
gave them in charge of the Fingoes, following in rear with the escort.
When little more than half-way back to where we had left our camp, we
saw the whole Division about two miles off, with its long retinue of
waggons, trekking across the open plain, and while wondering what it
could mean, a mounted express rode up, with an order from the General
for us to continue on the road as far as the top of the Blinkwater
Pass, where we halted till the division came up; eager to hear the
results of their operations on the previous day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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