The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in KaffirlandWard, Mrs.
History
The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in Kaffirland
Ward, Mrs.
South Africa -- History -- Frontier Wars, 1811-1878
There was nothing very pleasant in the prospect before me of leaving
England just as summer was opening her gates, and exhibiting her
flower-strewn paths and fragrant hedgerows. My health was not good, and
to my mode of travelling I looked forward as anything but agreeable;
since a troopship can never be considered as affording even convenient
accomodation for a lady, and the miseries of a sea-life must of
necessity be enhanced by being shared with a crowd of fellow-sufferers
of various classes.
Nevertheless, on reaching Ireland, (land of green spots and generous
hearts!) my spirits rallied; my soul could not but respond to kindly
sympathies and disinterested hospitality, and by the time the troopship,
"Abercrombie Robinson," arrived in Kingstown Harbour, whence we were to
embark (in all upwards of 700 souls) for the Cape of Good Hope, I had
shaken off my unavailing regrets in a great degree, and was prepared to
meet my destiny with a fortitude worthy of a soldier's wife,--a
fortitude, indeed, earned by experience in my encounter with "perils by
sea and land."
But people now don't care for rhymes romantic,
And I must cease to think of former years.
This, my third trip across the vast Atlantic,
Hath taught me to subdue a world of tears;
For worse than idle, on a joyous track,
Were the vain sorrow earned by looking back!--_My Journal_.
The inhabitants of Dublin, "in the merry month of May," 1842, emigrated
by instalments to visit the "Abercrombie Robinson,"--a ship of 1400 tons
being rarely seen in Kingstown Harbour. A few short months after, she
lay a wreck upon the sands of Africa, a true type of the littleness of
man's works, and of the power of Him who "blew with his winds and they
were scattered."
We embarked, and for a day or two enjoyed the balmy breezes of the
summer sea as we lay in harbour. His Excellency the Lord Lieutenant
came on board in the barge, to see the ship, the barge being steered by
the agent, Lieutenant J.R. Black, R.N. The guns saluted, the yards were
manned, bands were playing, colours flying, soldiers cheering, etc, etc.
The Lord Lieutenant congratulated us on our fine prospects, and drank
our healths, wishing us prosperity (and I am sure he was in earnest);
and his Aides-de-Camp looked as civil as they could, considering they
were very much bored: and, when we had all played at company and
propriety for a given time, his Excellency left the ship, steered as
before, and there was a repetition of guns firing, soldiers shouting,
etc; and the people on the shore, no doubt, thought it very fine indeed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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