The Bromsgrovian/Volume 2/Number 5/Adventures of an "O.B."
The Bromsgrovian.
June, 1883.
The following letter, addressed by an O.B. to the Head Master, will be interesting and instructive to the present generation, alike for the adventures it narrates and the account it gives of some aspects of colonial life.
The writer enlisted in the 17th Lancers, simply owing to a strong desire to enter the army and an intense dislike to office work.
Dear Mr. Millington,—
You will be somewhat surprised to hear from me after so long a silence. Since I last wrote, in '77, I have been roving about a little; and though, possibly, you will think that I have not sufficiently profited by your advice—often repeated—not to become a "rolling stone," you may yet sufficiently well remember me to care to hear about my wanderings during the last few years.
About two years after joining the 17th I was sent into Lancashire to assist in keeping order amongst the riotous weavers, and was at Blackburn and Clitheroe during the riots there. Our work consisted chiefly in patrolling the streets, and escorting dignitaries through crowds: nothing particularly interesting.
In February, '79, we left for Zululand. Our passage out to Natal occupied six weeks, on board the S.S. England. We were about 400 men and horses. Madeira was passed without calling there; at St. Vincent, Cape de Verde, we lay for three days, taking in coal: a most desolate place, chiefly occupied by half-caste Portuguese. The only thing noteworthy I observed in these islands was the singular beauty of the sun-rises and sun-sets against the brown hills, which rise sheer from the blue, still sea. Thence we steamed to Cape Town, then in a great flurry on account of H.I.H. the Prince Imperial's arrival. From Cape Town, in lovely weather, we steamed along the treacherous coast to Durban, landing by great luck in a perfect calm. The Port of Durban is usually (as I will mention in writing of the return journey) very bad for disembarkation. In '79 the Point, or landing-place, consisted of a small wooden quay, with an hotel (?) called the Criterion: a wooden drinking den. The line (single rail) runs down to the water's edge. Landing is done by surf boats, towed by tugs over the bar. On landing, our horses were very weak from the long voyage, and were led up to the Beren, or inland suburb of Durban. Here we camped four or five days, and then proceeded further up country some five miles to Cato's Manor. Cato is one of the great men of Durban; he was originally a private in some foot corps. From here we marched right through Natal for Zululand, passing Pinetown, a pretty little village near Durban, Botha's Hill, then the railway terminus, on the way to Petermaritzburg. The last is really a nice town, and the people, too, appeared to welcome us in the light of men who had been sent out for other reasons than to find transport work for the waggon drivers. The town stands on a hill, with higher ground to the North-West. It is a well-built, cleanly place, with a very English, homely look about it. From Petermaritzburg we went to Escourt, a police station, with a canteen and two or three houses about it; thence to Ladysmith, one of our hospital stations, inhabited by about as churlish a set of white savages as are to be found in Natal. In fact, I have met but few worse specimens in the Cape colony, and that is saying a good deal. From Escourt on to Dundee, a place east of Newcastle; thence to Landtman's Drift, and so across into Zululand. My memory does not serve me further as regards the names of camps in Zululand. We lay some time at Landtman's Drift, and were joined by the 1st King's Dragoon Guards, the 94th Foot, some artillery, and the 57th or 58th, I forget which; also a battalion of the 24th was with us. We—the cavalry—went from there to Isandhlwana (English papers print "Isandula;" why, I don't know: certainly not from pronunciation), and began burying some of the dead. We also reconnoitred the district. On our return to Landtman's Drift, General Newdigate took command, and we started into the enemy's country in earnest.
I was for some time with Carey—since notorious: though for my part I fancy he was more to blame for not knowing what was the object of his cavalry (?) escort than for cowardice. When our six regulars were with him there was no "off-saddling" and other colonial soldiering to tempt Zulus to make a rush. Nothing of consequence happened till June 2nd, when three or four of our troops went out and brought in the Prince's body. I was in this detachment, but we saw no Zulus that day. On June 6th, General Marshall, the Cavalry Divisional Commander, of whom I know no particular qualifications, excepting the speed with which he can make cigarettes, took us under fire for four or five hours; but what we went for none of us knew, except it was to shew the Zulus that we had arrived. Our adjutant, Frith, was killed there. After this I was sent down to Landtman's Drift again with General Wood, (there is no doubt about him, and anyone in his column knows what he is doing, and knows pretty well why he is doing it) to bring up provisions. We saw no Zulus, but we afterwards heard Donbleamanza was after us with 12,000 men all the time, but could not get in, baffled by our videttes and scouts. We in the 17th patted ourselves on the back for this. Nothing particular happened then till arriving at the Umvolosi, where Lord William Beresford got the Victoria Cross. I wasn't with him on that day. Two days afterwards, I think it was, we formed up at Ulundi. Ulundi was something like the battles one played at with tin soldiers. We pack our small force into a compact square; the enemy, in overwhelming numbers, surround us on all sides; we both go at one another hammer and tongs, and very soon the enemy bolts. Ulundi would have been a terrible cutting up if Crealock had only got his coast column up behind the enemy in time. As it was we burnt the place, had a good pursue for about two and a-half miles, and came in, bivouacked, and then set off back to permanent camp at Magnum Bonum; then, in heavy rains, marched back with our wounded: slow, uninteresting work, as the whole affair was over. Our route through Natal was somewhat different from the one going up, i.e., we went through Helpmakaar, Sevenoaks, and Greytown to Petermaritzburg; then on the same way to Pinetown. All this on foot. The "King's" took over our horses at Koppje Allien, a place 15 miles from Landtman's Drift. My horse left me even sooner: when we were at Magnum Bonum. At Pinetown we camped for a month, and began to harden our hearts and clean up traps ready for going to India. Here (at Pinetown) I dropped across my cousin, a captain in the 91st. He had been with Crealock, and was under orders for Mauritius. We had awful difficulty in getting off from Natal to the Serapis, for the surf was very bad indeed; as it was we had to wait six days before the boats could be got out at all. After a fortnight's crowding on the Serapis, we landed at Bombay, having called in at Mauritius, and having received a present of two oxen from the Queen of Madagascar. By the way, Madagascar looks rather a fine land en passant. On landing we were only a few hours in Bombay, and started by the E.I.P. Railway for Mhow, resting one night in Khandwa. This was the first bed we had slept in for nine months. Mhow is a large garrison, near to Indore, some twenty-four hours by rail from Bombay northwards.
If I could get a good appointment in India I would rather live. there than any place I have been in. Everybody in India appears to vie with his or her neighbour in making society as agreeable as possible. I only regret that I was in the ranks in India. And despite the fun that is made of your Anglo-Indian at home, your old General and his "Mem Sahib"—to say nothing of "Missy Baba"—do more than a little to make their fellow-countryman's life pleasant in an otherwise dreary land. Moreover, in India men remember their true position. Society is as good there as at home, and the European does not degenerate-even slowly-to the level of the Hindoo. South Africa might learn much from this, and especially remember that it is a shorter stage from the Englishman to the Hindoo than to the Kaffir.
Well, in our little tin-pot way we made ourselves comfortable in Mhow. I went in for Hindostani, and passed my lower standard. They say there, "It's a long way to Delhi;" and in soldier's parlance it may be translated as "It's a long job to get a frock coat." I regret to say I fancied I never should get my commission, which may have been so; in any case I let my father purchase my discharge. Then I went home again by P. and O. boat viâ Aden, Suez, Port Said, and Malta. This was a delightful trip; very jolly passengers all the way. Aden was interesting, in that rain was falling, a phenomenon which I hear happens but once in seven years. The Red Sea, of course, was hot, but I enjoyed myself very much, leading a dolce far niente life, and taking charge of a jolly little girl coming home for her first visit to England. She wanted to know all about London and Brighton, and gave me endless ayahs' Hindostani legends and proverbs to try and remember. At Suez, unfortunately, I became separated from our "boys"—a salt commissioner, an artillery lieutenant, a Rugby boy—ex-sergeant 9th Lancers—and two or three old stagers who knew all about the trip. In the inevitable row with the donkey drivers I unfortunately struck one of them, and I think called him a bad name; and I regret to say I had the most unmerciful hammering from about twenty of them, with their sticks, that I ever experienced. This was humiliating, especially as, do my worst, I only could hurt about one-fifteenth of them after all. My revenge, however, has come at length, since the old 17th has shewn the Arab a move or two in the person of Sir Drury C. Drury-Lowe (our old colonel). Port Said, Malta, and Gibraltar, of course we called at, but there is no good saying anything about one's slight acquaintance with these often-described places. At Gibraltar we lay beside the Czar's yacht Livadia; thence homewards to Southampton, London, Bromley. Things in general being bad in the City, and my love for that place not having grown any warmer, I decided on trying the Colonies—as a civilian this time. However, I stopped a month and three days in England, saying good-bye to friends and seeing a few of the theatres with Arthur; and then I made even a more foolish choice than in the election of the army in '77. I said to myself and my father: Natal is certainly not good for much, and as everybody speaks so well of the prospects and life of South Africa, I'll make sure of getting into the best part, so out I started for the Cape Colony, and I find Natal was paradise compared with this purgatory. Cape Colony's prospects I can say nothing about. Nobody I have met out here prophecies about so unknown a thing. If the productions of a country in any way indicate its prospects, you may judge for yourself: South Africa produces chiefly—and that plentifully—"Kaffirs, loafers, and empty tin pots."
Well, to proceed with my report of myself: On arriving at Cape Town, I called on that cousin I before mentioned, in the 91st, he being stationed there. His advice was, Go in for "swash buckling," that is, join the Colonial Volunteers. One draws pay for volunteering here. Well, I did not quite see this, after leaving the 17th, and I did not think my father would care for it either, in time of peace. Moreover, your private in a dragoon corps at home is at least as respectable a member ex officio as your South African colonial officer. I didn't know this then though. Any how, I determined to try my letters of introduction first; so on I went to Port Elizabeth. This I heard at home was South Africa's Liverpool. Trade was then pretty good, and berths were open, owing to many young fellows not having then returned from the front. I called on a Mr. Savage, to whom I had letters, and finally was sent by him to his store in Graaff Rimet. After about a week, I found that buying and selling was not a more interesting pursuit in Africa than it is in England, and I found myself gradually rising or falling (a matter of opinion) from the status of a despised dragoon to that of a wholesale draper's counter-jumper. After seven months of this most hum-drum work I met a Mr. Maling, a telegraph engineer. He had been for some time in Australia and New Zealand, and amongst other things had earned the New Zealand Victoria Cross. We made friends, and I "turned up" drapery and started for the "tented field" again. Our work is surveying new land, before the line is put up, in order to find its ultimate direction; we then superintend the erection of poles, strain wire, and erect stations; in fact we make the "circuit," and then hand over the line to the operating officer and his clerks. I have been more than a year at this. Our first line was 163 miles in length, from Graaff Rimet to Citenhage. Then we went from Graham's Town to Alexandria, 43 miles. That is about the most pleasant part of the colony. I am now in charge of a line, Maling being away on another. My line runs almost at right angles to our first line, branching off some 45 miles from Graaff Rimet, at a station called Aberdeen Road, and running to the town (?) of Aberdeen. When this is completed we shall in all probability start for the Orange Free State to run 342 miles, which will, I expect, take twelve months. After this I fancy I shall leave South Africa.
So much, sir, about myself; and I fancy you will add—"too much."
A. has tried the City for some time but has left it for Zanzibar. He arrived there about a month ago. He is with a firm, Schaner and Fiede; what he does I do not know. He has written to the pater, but I have not yet heard from him. I shall certainly endeavour to run round to Zanzibar some day. He had rather an eventful passage out in the Nyanza, a boat that belongs to the Sultan of Zanzibar. The fact is our whole family is moving round. You see no one place could conveniently hold 13 Harrisons. My second sister, Mrs. Clubbe, recently married, has gone to Sidney with her husband, Dr. Clubbe; and my third sister, unmarried, has gone with them just for the visit.
I understand that business has been very slack at home lately, so I fancy that my father will feel it rather a relief to have some few of us scattered.
I, of course, have no real right to say what I am now going to say; but if you in any way think my experiences of these colonies are useful, I would strongly advise you never, (or in only very few cases where possibly interest was also in the balance,) to recommend South Africa as a field for a young man to start life in. The place is rotten to the core. And a young man fresh from home stands a far greater chance of growing disgusted with the place, or going wrong with its countless loafers, or even combining the two, than of doing well, or even doing fairly well. I have met men, not by pairs, but by dozens, who have left Australia and New Zealand to come here, with ideas of this place corresponding to the glowing colours in which it had been painted by English, Australian, and other papers. And the sole object of these men's lives here is to save, save, save, live any way, but scrape money together as soon as possible, and then fly back again.
Don't imagine from this, sir, that I am in any way personally discontented with the place, far from it. It is not in my nature even to choose (what I fancy is) the nicest place to live> in, as the place I will work in. I have queer ideas on this subject, and as they only affect myself they will hardly interest anyone else. But it is quite sufficient to generalize and say, when a man has to work and makes up his mind to do so, if his work is not what he would desire it to be, then any place is good enough for the work. His work is purely for mercenary purposes, his wishes are to earn sufficient to stop the necessity of doing such work. In this case it matters little where his field of operation is. In fact, it may be some consolation, when he leaves the place, to feel that his exertions, besides having borne the fruit he wanted directly, have also indirectly improved some hole that more than most places needed improvements. To such a man I would say, If you can command a good salary go to South Africa. If you have sufficient determination, you can stick thoroughly to your work for a time, and there is little to tempt you to get rid of your earnings. Such a man of course I am presuming is not a fool, and will neither drink nor gamble. These two pursuits he certainly (if he wishes) can follow here.
But most men like to have some time apart from their toil to themselves: don't let them come here. This is no place for any man to come out to settle in, nor would any reasonable man choose to rear a family here. Some poor wretches of course have to do so. Now, however, I am treading on forbidden ground; and, as I daresay I have no right to give any of my ideas about places to live in, or lives to live in places, since my own life appears to most men such a failure I will close this.
You will I trust excuse inaccuracy, redundancy, &c., in this long scrawl. The fact is, I had a good deal to write about, and had not sufficient time (and I fear I am gradually losing the power) to write it in a shorter letter.
I am, Sir, very faithfully,
To Herbert Millington, Esq.,
K.E.S. School, Bromsgrove.