The Mantatee Invasion

The year 1823 opened quietly enough, though it was to be a period of considerable anxiety and excitement. The Batlaping continued indifferent to the gospel, and unbelieving of anything beyond the things of time and of sense; but the hostile spirit had passed away, and the gentle perseverance of the missionaries in bearing evil and in doing good had borne fruit.

At the end of March a second daughter was born, who was named Ann, after her father’s mother.

There was at this time among the Batlaping at Lattakoo a young man, a refugee. His father, Makaba, was chief of another Bechwana tribe, about two hundred miles to the N.N.E., and the son had fled from his father’s anger. He came in contact with the missionaries, and although his testimony about Makaba was not of a friendly character, it had the effect of exciting in the mind of Robert Moffat a deep interest in the Bangwaketsi and their chief, who had shown somewhat more of warlike prowess than their neighbours, and had made themselves dreaded far and wide.

For some months rumours had been spreading, however, which had put Makaba and his Bangwaketsi in the shade. It was reported that a strange people, fierce and many, were slowly but steadily advancing from the eastward, eating up all the tribes with which they came in contact. To those who have known the country since, it must seem strange that events had been taking place for months, and even for years, within the space of a few hundred miles, the knowledge of which had spread but a very little way. But in those days each tribe occupied its own locality, often separated from its neighbours by a tract of uninhabited country. Occasional messengers might be sent from one chief to another, now and then some enterprising person would make a journey for purposes of trade; but as often as not some act of hostility had caused a break in communications, and it might well be that for months together tribes which were only two or three days’ journey from each other remained in ignorance of each other’s affairs, no one being bold enough to cross the intervening sohtudes which in the meantime were left to the game and to the lions. That branch of the Bechwana race which extended from the junction of the Vaal and Orange rivers up along the western side of the former stream, into what is now known as the Transvaal, was subdivided into numerous tribes which still recognized more or less kinship to each other; but eastward there lay another branch of the same race, now known generally as Basuto or Bapedi. Beyond these, and still related — all being members of the great Kafir family — but more distant in kin as in locality, were the Zulus and other coast tribes inhabiting the well-watered and fruitful slopes of the Kwathlamba range, on the coast-line of South-eastern Africa.

Early in the century rose the tyrant Chika, who extended his rule over all the tribes adjacent to his own, and commenced a career of conquest. He attacked one tribe after another, blotting them out, unless they saved themselves by timely and absolute submission or by flight. More than one emigration took place from this cause, but the fugitives kept as much as possible to the mountain country, and directed their course parallel with the coast. At last one of Chaka’s lieutenants, himself the son of a chief whose power had been broken by Chaka, gave offence to his master, and sought safety in flight. This was Umziligazi, or, as the Bechwanas called him, Mosilikatse. He, with his followers, cl-imbed the Kwathlamba range, and once upon the high uplands which now form part of the Transvaal, he found himself like a wolf among a flock of sheep. Of the Bapedi and Basuto tribes none could resist him except Moshesh, who, on his mountain fortress of Thaba Bosigo, successfully defied the invaders. Meanwhile the Bapedi and the Bechwana tribes were thrown into confusion by the onslaughts of the terrible Matebele. Some tribes were utterly destroyed, others bowed the knee and accepted the position of vassals, and others again fled.

It was these fugitives, tribes and broken remnants of tribes, huddled into great hordes, abandoning lands and driving what they could of their cattle with them, who came pouring on like a flood and threatening to overwhelm the western Bechwanas, who, if driven back, would have had no option but to perish in the foodless and waterless wastes of the Kalahari. For months the reports which came were vague and contradictory, but they gradually became less shadowy, and it was evident that the danger was coming nearer.

So little was definitely known, however, that Robert Moffat determined to carry out his project of visiting Makaba, whose town was about two hundred miles to the north-east. Leaving his wife at Kuruman, he directed his course through Old Lattakoo — or Letakong — and Nokaneng, at both of which places there were sections of a tribe closely connected with the Batlaping. As he advanced it became more and more certain that the dreaded enemy, known under the general name of Mantatees, was not far away. It was resolved to continue the journey as much for the purpose of gaining information about these Mantatees as for anything else. For some days the travellers went on through the wilderness, seeing much game and getting quite accustomed to the neighbourhood of lions — seeing as many of these, according to the journal, as nine in one day.

At last, however, at a place called Mosite, they received definite information that the Mantatees were in actual possession of the Barolong towns, a few hours to the eastward, and that they were on their way to Lattakoo. This of course hurried them back home, not knowing whether they might not find the enemy there before them. No time was lost. A public meeting was called by the chief Moteebe, who with his people heartily acknowledged that but for Moffat’s pertinacity in starting for the north-east on a journey which they had tried to hinder him from taking, they would not have had this timely warning; and the missionary was asked for his advice in the critical position in which they were placed.

He judged — and the event proved him right — that the Batlaping would be no match for the invaders. He advised them to seek the aid of the Griquas, who, though few, had guns and horses; and he himself hastened to Griqua Town and received from Waterboer the promise that as soon as he could muster his men he would come. By the time that the Griquas reached the station the Mantatees had occupied Letakong, thirty-six miles away. It was thought best that Moffat should accompany the little force of not a hundred men. It was hoped that a white man might be able to open negotiations with the Mantatees, and that at all events his presence as a missionary might tend to mitigate the horrors of war carried on by people like the Griquas, only imperfectly civilized. Mr. Melville, the Government Commissioner resident at Griqua Town, was his companion.

They rode to the Mathvaring River, about half-way. The chief

Waterboer, with the two Europeans and about a dozen men, went on, and spent the night in a clump of thorn-trees a few miles from Letakong. They proceeded next morning, and about ten o’clock came within sight of the dreaded Mantatees. One detachment held the town, of which the inhabitants had fled. Another lay on the hills to the left of it, presenting the appearance of a great black patch as contrasted with the light straw colour of the grass-covered slopes.

The horsemen drew near, and as they did so they could perceive a deal of hurrying to and fro, and that the cattle were driven in and enclosed by the men. It was the first time that these people had seen a man on horseback, and at first they naturally supposed that horse and man were one animal. This was learned from some of the prisoners afterwards. In a ravine leading down to the river the scouting party found a young woman who belonged to the Mantatees. From her they learnt nothing, except the fact that their language was only another dialect of Sechwana. She was sent back to her people with a message of peace, but nothing came of this. A little farther on the party found an old man with a lad lying under the shadow of a rock, the younger in the last stage of starvation, and the elder not very much better. They dismounted in full sight of the enemy, and stood talking for some time with the wretches whom they had found, and they gave the old man some meat, which he ravenously devoured. Not finding any way of getting speech with the Mantatees, who would now and again make a furious rush towards them, hurling clubs and spears, they moved back to a height at some distance and saddled off, taking their horses to a pool of dirty water. Here they found several dead Mantatees, one body lying partly in the pool from which they had to drink.

They sent back for the main force to come on, and spent the night in this dangerous bivouac. Next morning their men came up, followed at a distance by the Batlaping force. They again advanced, and exhausted every resource to get at the enemy by way of coming to an understanding, but at last the latter became more and more fierce in their rushes, compelling the party to retire.

At last Waterboer raised his gun and levelled one of their boldest warriors. It might have been thought that this experience so new and startling would have had some effect, but it had none whatever. The firing now commenced, very slowly and deliberately, a single shot at a time; and not a shot failed to tell, for the Griquas had to be careful, as all the ammunition they had amounted to about a dozen rounds per man.

Every now and then there was a cessation of the firing to give a chance of negotiation, but it was to no purpose. The Batlaping now came up, and began playing upon them with poisoned arrows, but a rush of a few Mantatees in their direction sent them all scampering. After about three hours the Griquas charged their positions, and they gave way, and eventually started in full flight in the direction from which they had come. The detachment occupying the town, which had taken no part in the engagement, set fire to the houses and also started in retreat.

Then ensued a scene of the wildest confusion. The houses burnt like straw; an immense volume of smoke rolled across the track of the fugitives and mixed with the dust of retreating thousands — for they were many thousands in number; the country was covered with bands of people fleeing or pursuing. True to their cowardly tactics, the Batlaping began to vent their warlike ardour on the wounded, and on the women and children who could not keep up in the flight. This was the most diflficult and dangerous part of the day for Moffat and Melville. They could not stand by and see this going on without interference. They galloped hither and thither rescuing women and children from the human wolves who were deliberately slaying them for the love of killing, or to despoil their bodies of such brass rings and beads as they had upon them. As soon as the women began to discover who were their protectors, they would rush frantically to them, baring their breasts and crying, “I am a woman! I am a woman!”

The wounded men were especially dangerous, and would not be taken alive, stabbing as they lay on the ground. Robert Moffat has been heard to tell of one esi ecial deliverance on this day — though, alas, it was bought at a dear price. He had got hemmed in between a rocky height and a body of the enemy. There was only a narrow passage through which he could escape at full gallop. Right in the middle of this passage there rose up before him a man who had been shot, but had collected his strength, and, weapon in hand, was awaiting him. It was almost impossible for him to escape. Just at this moment one of the Griquas, at a long distance, took in the situation at a glance — raised his gun, and fired. The ball whizzed so close past Moffat that he shuddered; but it was a true aim, and his outlet of escape was clear.

This battle decided the fate of the mission and a good deal more. The invaders retreated, never to return. Their descendants are to be found, some of them in Basutoland and others in the Transvaal. Had they not been checked by the little body of horsemen with guns, who proved, though few, such terrible enemies, they would have swept away the Batlaping and probably have poured into the Colony — greatly extending the area of disturbance, and would have been repelled with a loss of life terrible to think of, as compared with the five hundred or more who fell at Letakong.

Robert Moffat, with the able assistance of Melville and afterwards of Hamilton, collected the women and children who remained behind in the flight. These poor creatures had many of them been reduced to dire straits. At one place a horse had died of snake bite, and had of course swollen up, but they fell upon it like wolves, and would not desist till every particle of it had disappeared. They had not only to care for these people, but on their return to the station, as soon as the Griquas had gone home the country was full of rumours of the advance of other bodies of Mantatees from a different quarter. So serious did matters become that the missionaries eventually saw it their duty to abandon the station for a time and to retire to Griqua Town, They carried away what they could of their property, and buried the rest, and started with heavy hearts. Robert Moffat, having seen his wife and children safely bestowed, returned to Lattakoo, and remained a while alone.

These events proved of great and lasting importance to the mission. The Batlaping saw that the missionaries, by their advice and energy, had been the means of saving them from their enemies. Their position was now established, and though for a while there was a lack of interest in their message, they themselves had gained a personal ascendency which they never again lost.

At the beginning of September Mary Moffat writes to her parents from Griqua Town:

“My dear Robert left me on the 6th ultimo, having a severe cold upon him, but so anxious to be at the post of duty I could not prevail upon him to remain here till he was better. It was by no means congenial to our wishes to separate, but our oxen are already too much hurried to take our goods back again to Kuruman before we go to the Cape; and on account of the confusion we have been in for some months I shall have time little enough to prepare for the journey to get off at the appointed time, which we are anxious to do that we may be back in the month of March, that being the best time for the river.

“Robert is gone to make another effort at the language before we go. He writes me that all our buried things are taken up in excellent order, but the garden is completely destroyed by the oxen. Some of the Bechwanas made attempts at robbing the houses, but Moieebe had acted honourably; and I assure you it is no little thing that

8o THE MISSIONARIES GAIN INFLUENCE.

would arouse Moteebe to so much exertion. Were these people idolaters, I should be afraid of them deifying Robert now — they are so convinced of the interest he takes in their welfare, from what has lately transpired. They say it would have been easy for us to decamp, with all belonging to us; but are surprised at the promptitude and activity which Robert used in warning the Griquas of the approaching danger, and thereby preserving them from enduring those horrors which have come upon all their neighbours. Last year we had the pleasure of informing you of the downfall of rainmaking superstition, and now another obstacle is broken through; indeed they now seem to fear denying Robert anything.

“He writes that he has broached the subject of removing the station, and thinks he will succeed. If we get to that place it will soon pay the expense, and save the Society many thousands of dollars, and will also be a sort of magazine for provisions for infant stations in the interior. We cannot but think that a new era is dawning on the history of this unhappy, wretched country, and that the late awful events will be overruled for the spread of the glorious gospel.

“We are persuaded that the surrounding tribes will desire to have teachers after seeing the advantage that Moteebe’s people have derived from their connection with them.

“Spies have been sent out from this place to ascertain the truth of the report respecting the other marauding tribes which were said to be approaching from up the river; but it proves to be a mere fabrication. The spies saw the miserable wretches with whom they had fought at Lattakoo. They appeared afraid, and made signs to that effect. The spies went amongst them and talked with them. They said all their chief warriors were killed, and they desired to return from whence they came. Brother Hodgson (Wesleyan) arrived here on the 29th ult., all well, having been in great danger from both men and beasts of prey, lions abounding exceedingly on their road. He found Mr. Broadbent in a pitiful situation. The enemy having gone in that direction, Sebonelo and all his people had fled, leaving Mr. B. alone. Even his own servants went, except one Bechwana man. Providentially, however, Mr. H. arrived when they had been one day in that situation. Mr. B.’s waggon had come here with Mr. H. for supplies, so that he could not fly, being himself in too weak a state to walk and Mrs. B. having two little ones such as ours.

“It appears that the vanquished are fled in three directions: one party over the river (Vaal), which was seen by the spies, and the other two keep the river beyond Sebonelo’s place. His people find them scattered in straggling parties, and kill them wherever they get them. They appear to be dying of hunger, and Mr. Hodgson witnessed the most horrid spectacles. Where they stopped one night the unhappy people had encamped the night before, and had left behind them two women and a man, who were feeding on the body of a dead companion; they were stamping the bones to suck out the marrow! I know you will shudder when I tell you that they did it without the least emotion. They pointed to the mangled limbs, and told Mr. Hodgson the name of the man. Whether they are cannibals from

THE BARBARITY OF AFRICA. 8i

choice we are at a loss to know; but I am not disposed to think they are, as many Bechwanas do die of hunger when they might get a share with the wolf of their poor dead companions. At Nokaneng, Robert writes, there are many women left behind, and some wounded men. He had proposed a plan to Andries, the chief of this place, for their rescue and preservation; but I fear it will not be attended to, but think R. will go himself and devise some plan. This is such a hungry country that it is difficult to procure victuals for them. There is no doubt whatever but that they subsist on the dead bodies of such as die amongst them. Oh the dark barbarity of this wretched Africa! When, oh when will the Sun of righteousness arise and disperse the heathenish gloom! O Lord, hasten, and make no tarrying!”