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The Cape and the Kaffirs: A Diary of Five Years' Residence in Kaffirland

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An old officer, in speaking of this affair of the “three days” in the Amatolas, informed me that neither he, nor those in the same division with himself, had had anything whatever to eat, from Thursday the 16th, at daylight, until Saturday night, the 18th, when they reached Block Drift; there, some biscuit was served out to them. My husband was not only without food during this period, but, having lost all his baggage, had nothing on for days after (night or day) but his shell jacket and white trousers. His horse was slightly grazed by a ball, which touched it between the saddle-flap and his canteen; fortunately, it must have struck something on its way. The Kaffirs invariably aim at the officers, believing that, in bringing down the leaders, the whole body will be made to give way.

The following officers were killed and wounded during these engagements; 7th Dragoon Guards—Captain Bambrick, killed; 91st—Lieutenant Cochrane wounded three times; Cape Mounted Rifles—Captain Sandes, murdered. Colonel Richardson and Captain Rawstorne, 91st, narrowly escaped wounds at least, both being struck by spent balls. Colonel Somerset had just dismounted from his charger, when the man who took it from him was shot dead, the animal escaping. Lieutenant O’Reilly had the trigger of his gun shot off; and Mr Bisset lost two horses not long after dismounting.

The loss of Captain Sandes, Cape Mounted Rifles, was much deplored. Being ordered to proceed with an express from Post Victoria to Colonel Somerset at Block Drift, on the 18th of April, he unfortunately started after the party, lost his way, returned to Victoria, was advised to wait until another mounted party should be likely to proceed, but faithful to his orders, determined on riding to Block Drift alone, which he did, and was brutally murdered! The Kaffirs themselves acknowledged that he fought desperately, cutting his way through two bodies of these wretches, of whom they admit he must have killed and injured eight or ten. The third body despatched him. So much for the Kaffir’s mild nature and generous sentiments! So much for his bravery! No man can be brave who does not appreciate bravery in others.

Among the slain, was afterwards discovered a soldier of the 91st, who had probably been burned to death by the savages, as his remains were found bound to the pole of a waggon, and horribly defaced by fire.

Dr Eddie, of the Cape Mounted Rifles, on going back with a party to endeavour to recover some of the Government property from the hospital waggon, found that it had been rifled of almost everything but the jar of blister ointment, which had been emptied of its contents—the ointment having been scooped out by Kaffir fingers.

It must be observed that, on the 15th of April, the very day on which Colonel Somerset assembled his small force on the Deba Flats, for the purpose of getting the troops into position before attacking the enemy in the Amatola Mountains, nothing was known in Graham’s Town of the operations of the troops in the field. Sir Peregrine Maitland, the Governor, who had arrived on the frontier a few days before, left Graham’s town for Post Victoria with only a small escort, and in total ignorance of Colonel Somerset’s proceedings, which every one knew must be regulated by circumstances, but which every one supposed would begin and end in a march through the ceded territory and back again “without seeing a Kaffir.”

I forgot to mention that Colonel Hare, the Lieutenant-Governor, had moved from Graham’s Town to Fort Beaufort, before issuing his proclamation against our savage neighbours, and on the 18th of April, went to Post Victoria to meet Sir Peregrine Maitland.

Colonel Hare returned to Beaufort the same evening in safety. Captain Sandes must have been murdered within a few miles of him; but fortunately no one crossed the path of the Lieutenant-Governor or his escort.

On Sunday, the 19th, some cattle were stolen from Post Victoria, in the very face of the troops and their General. The Kaffirs were followed, but had got into the bush with their booty before the troops could come up with them.

On the morning of the 18th, while General Maitland was on a reconnoitring expedition, he and his party came suddenly upon an ambush of Kaffirs; happily he had with him an escort of dragoons, who dashed after these savages. Had Sir Peregrine not been so attended, he, with his staff, would have been cut off.

A party of the 27th went out from Victoria to clear the bush of the Kaffirs. In the skirmish which ensued, a serjeant of the regiment being shot in the ankle, the savages rushed upon him and beat him to death with their knob-kiurries (war-clubs).

After the troops had taken up their position at Block Drift, they were joined by Sir P. Maitland, who immediately assumed the command, and superintended the defences.

But, while the troops were employed in the Amatola Mountains, Graham’s Town was utterly unprotected, and bodies of Kaffirs poured into the Colony. Then began the work of devastation, plunder, and murder. Alas! while our hearts were torn with anxiety for those dear to us in the field, we knew ourselves to be surrounded by savages who openly threatened to attack us! In all directions we heard the reports of musketry. Now, a murdered waggon-driver was brought in, and now, a Kaffir spy was shot close to the town; the townspeople of course exaggerating the one waggon-driver to five or six, and the spy to “thousands of Kaffirs.” On the 29th of April, Colonel Somerset arrived with his division. The sight of the troops winding down the hill towards Graham’s Town, cheered the drooping spirits of the inhabitants, and made many hearts beat with alternate hope and fear, for we knew not what intelligence they might bring, or what dangers they had encountered. Little, indeed, can they, who never experienced the horrors and anxieties of war, especially a war with savages, comprehend the feelings of those who wait for tidings of the absent. The weary watchings, the very dread of the arrival of expresses, bearing we know not what tidings, the feverish restlessness to see the printed dispatches of the day, the waiting for hours in uncertainty, and then the regret, amidst our thankfulness at so much being done, that there was yet so much to do. Ah! these are terrible hours. I especially remember the reading of the first dispatch—the wife of one in command of a division, which had not been engaged, but of which I shall have to speak hereafter, tearing open the papers with trembling fingers, while another and I leaned over her shoulder, and would see what she tried to read with a faltering voice. Children looked up alarmed at they knew not what, pausing in their play, and quite silent; while shots echoed along the hills and through the kloofs above the town, and the sky above and around us was lit with the fires from the devastated homesteads of the settlers. The very sight of the thousands of cattle and sheep being driven in at sunset by armed herds, was melancholy; and the panic-stricken inhabitants galloped hither and thither, endangering people’s lives and wearing out their horses, causing a stir and excitement equally useless and alarming. The appearance of the town on one Sabbath morning was wretched beyond description. The bell for prayers rang from our roofless church, the Independent Chapel being lent to us as a place of worship, while the church of the established religion was undergoing repairs. A crowd of Fingo and Hottentot picquets were assembling in the streets, groups of people stood about talking, and others passed on to the place of prayer with careworn faces. At every opening, the sappers and miners were busy blockading the streets, and parties of armed Burghers came galloping in with fresh tidings of ruin, murder, and devastation. The return of Colonel Somerset’s division probably checked the advance of the enemy upon the town, where the greatest fears had been entertained for the magazine, containing the gunpowder belonging to the merchants. It must be added, that the energies of those who were willing to join in the work of defence had been considerably damped by a disastrous circumstance, which had occurred during the absence of the troops in Kaffirland.

Mr Norden, a merchant, having been appointed to the temporary command of the Yeomanry Corps, which, it must be remembered, there had been but little time to organise, led his men out, on the 25th of April, to a valley a little beyond Graham’s Town, where it had been ascertained that a number of Kaffirs were lurking. He was a dashing, enterprising man, always ready to lead whenever a leader was wanting. On reaching a spot commanded by a krantz, or cliff, he divided his corps into two bodies, directing one to the right and the other to the left, with one of which he advanced towards a thick bush. On Mr Norden approaching a mass of rock, which served as an ambush for one of the savages, he was shot through the head, and fell dead. The wretch who shot him was immediately brought down by the musket of one of the Yeomanry; but others rushed on the murdered man, and dragged away the body. The Yeomanry Corps being thus divided, the numbers of the foe unknown, and the sun just setting, it was deemed imprudent to attempt the capture of Mr Norden’s remains from the Kaffirs at that moment. The following day, the body was observed placed in a conspicuous position on the krantz, probably as a decoy; and on Monday, the 27th, a large body of the inhabitants, a few of the Cape Corps, and a remnant of the 90th—in all amounting to about 200 men—headed by Colonel Johnstone, 27th Regiment, Commandant of the town, went out, and brought back the mangled body of the brave man whose life had been so miserably sacrificed. The bereaved family of Mr Norden must ever be looked on by the people of Graham’s Town with feelings of deep and grateful interest.

 

From the windows, we had seen the patriot winding up the hills; all eyes had followed him with interest; crowds assembled in the restless streets, to watch his progress; little thought they of the miserable result, or of the manner of his return,—dead, mutilated; stretched on a gun-carriage, with a cloak flung over him for a pall! That night, the air above us was thick with smoke, rising from the burning grass which the enemy had fired to destroy the pasturage for the cattle.

The providing the wives and children of officers with safe quarters was one of the first acts of the Lieutenant-Governor; and, although we were never under the apprehension of a serious attack on the barracks in which we were domiciled, it is pretty certain that, but for the preparations for defence, the outskirts of the town would have been destroyed. After the affairs at Block Drift, the Gaikas returned to the deep recesses of the Amatolas, and there informed their people that they had killed all the white men. The cry of “Victory!” rang through Kaffirland; the loss of our waggons, and the sight of the savages returning with their spoil, shouting their wild song of triumph, and bearing their trophies along with them, roused the tribes who had promised to “sit still;” and straightway the colony swarmed with these ferocious barbarians.

Sir Peregrine Maitland now armed an immense force. The defeat of the Kaffirs in the Amatolas, inspired us with hope, and for a while, daunted the enemy; but the Kaffirs were like vermin in the land,—as fast as they were hunted out of one corner, they rose up in another.

Chapter VI.
State of Graham’s Town

Everything in Africa is in extremes. The air is at one moment perfectly calm, the next wild with terrific storms. The sky so sweetly serene at noon, before half an hour passes is often darkened by clouds which shroud the land as with a pall. For months, the long droughts parch the earth, the rivers may be forded on foot, the flocks and herds pant for refreshing waters and green herbage. Suddenly, “a cloud no bigger than a man’s hand” appears on the horizon, and lo! the elements rage and swell, thunder booms upon the air, darkness covers the land, the arrows of the Almighty dart from the angry heavens, striking death and terror wheresoever they fall. From the far desert an overpowering torrent of sand comes sweeping on, obscuring the air, and making its way into your very house, in such profusion that you may trace characters in its dry-depths on the window-sill. The skies open, the floods descend, the rivers burst their bounds, trees are uprooted from the saturated earth, and through the roof of your dwelling the rain beats heavily, the walls crack, the plaster falls, the beams that support the thatch groan and creak with “melancholy moan,” the voices of angry spirits seem to howl and shout around you, the poor birds on frightened wing wheel past your windows, the cattle disturb you with their lowing, the dogs howl, and the unearthly tones of the Kaffir or Fingo herdsman’s song are no agreeable addition to the wild scene stirring before you. The tempest, however, subsides as suddenly as it arose, the voices of the storm-spirits die away in the distance over the mountain-tops, the dark pall of clouds is rent by a Mighty Hand, the swollen rivers rush on, bearing evidences of devastation, but subsiding at last into a more measured course; the sun lights up the valleys and the hill-sides, the air is clearer, the sky brighter than ever; and, but for the history of devastation and oftentimes of death, and the knowledge that for weeks the country will be subject to these violent convulsions of nature, the terrors of the tempest would soon be forgotten.

Such is the climate of South Africa. Lovely indeed it is for part of the year; for the rest experience is necessary to teach you whether it be agreeable or not. At one time of the day, I have known the thermometer 120 degrees; at sunset, it has been so cold that a fire has been necessary; nay, I have known it 92 degrees in a room with the air kept out at noon, and at six I have wanted a shawl, or cloak, during my walk. In the morning, you are scorched and blistered by the hot wind, while the vegetation is withering under your feet, and at night you must wrap yourself well up, and put your feet in shoes “impervious to the dew,” and yet experience shows that it is perfectly healthy.14

On the 25th of March we received a report in Graham’s Town, that the Kaffirs were pouring into the colony. It was afterwards ascertained that the Kaffirs were only awaiting our threatened blow as the signal for their work of devastation. They were well aware of all our movements, the numerical strength of our army, and the comparative security into which the farmers had been lulled by Sandilla’s message, or rather by the acceptance of that message; and we soon received evidence of the Kaffir’s proximity to Graham’s Town, by constant robberies of cattle, and skirmishes between themselves and the Fingo and Hottentot herds.

The 22nd of April was the first day of serious inconvenience to ourselves. Three of us, our husbands being with their divisions at different stations, were assembled with our children, as was our custom, to spend the evening together. How often had we paced the verandah, anxiously watching the lurid sky, red with the fires of devastation, and listening to the continued and heavy volleys of musketry between the herds and savages on the hills above us! We never permitted ourselves to think of an attack on the town; and, as the Kaffirs seldom risk their lives or spend their powder without a chance of plunder in return, we considered our lives safe, since the cattle could be swept away from the outskirts without venturing into the town. On the night of the 22nd, however, the frightened servants rushed into the sitting-room, exclaiming that the Kaffirs were sweeping down the hills in all directions; and that, as the house was roofed with shingles, it was likely it would be fired by the brand of the savages.

Behold us, then, preparing for our pilgrimage across the open, undefended square of the Drostdy ground15. But that we were full of anxieties for our husbands in the field, we should have laughed in the very face of apparent danger. Ill defended as the town was, we could not believe that the Kaffirs could have passed the picquets on the hills unnoticed, and accustomed to exaggerated reports, the cry of “Kaffirs!” was no longer so alarming to us personally as it might have been had we heard it before our terrors for the absent had deadened our thoughts of self. The cry was raised, however, and we were warned to seek the shelter of the new barracks, built of stone, and roofed with zinc.

The lady of the house roused one sleeping child from its bed, and dressed it hastily, but with perfect calmness, while her boy danced about and tumbled head over heels with delight at the prospect of “such fun!” The young ladies of the party, my own girl among them, collected what they considered most valuable, their books, work-boxes, trinkets, a guitar, a doll in a polka dress, a monkey, and their dogs; and the wife of one in command at Fort Peddie thrust money, jewels, and papers into a box, which she carried under her arm. Ere we were ready for the trek, the servants appeared with their “valuables,” the hoards and savings of many years. Oh, the confusion of tongues on that night, as we passed through the Square! Exclamations in Dutch, Irish, Fingo, broad Scotch, and provincial English, assailed us on all sides; children cried and laughed alternately, women screamed, Hottentots danced, and sang, and swore, the oxen attached to the waggons which had accompanied the 90th uttered frightful roars, and muskets were going off in all quarters of the town. Onwards we sped; there was sufficient light to see the tents of the 90th, who had only arrived the day before, standing up in regular order. We made direct for the line between the tents, when lo! they vanished; they were struck to the ground as if by magic, and lay as flat as linen on a bleaching-green. The young girls could not help laughing as they stumbled over the tent-pegs.

We reached the barrack-rooms appropriated to my use. If the air was “full of noises,” much more so was the house. In one room were officers loading pistols as merrily as if they were going pigeon-shooting; in the kitchens, the men-servants were unslinging the loaded muskets from the wall; and up and down the passage stalked dragoon soldiers, fully accoutred, and ready for the saddle at a moment’s notice, their horses standing in the yard, neighing with impatience; while we ladies, girls, and children, with three or four officers, sat waiting the result of the hubbub with the doors open; and the townspeople occasionally rushing in with affrighted faces. Had the Kaffirs been at all aware of their own strength, and our defenceless state, they might, with very little loss on their side, have burned and pillaged the town, murdered many of the inhabitants, and possessed themselves of the magazine. We had not two hundred soldiers, and most of these were of the 20th Regiment, who had just arrived from a ten years’ sojourn in Ceylon, and were therefore little fitted for active service. That the enemy meditated an attack, there is no doubt; but the reports of their advance proved exaggerated, and at midnight it was ascertained that they had swept off what cattle they could from the outskirts, and set fire to the neighbouring farms. We had very certain testimony of this from the windows, for the glare of these burning homesteads of the industrious settlers illumined the sky, and the hills all round were bright with wreaths of flame from the bush.

We were all too much excited to obtain much repose, and at daylight the next morning the warning bugles of the 90th gave note of preparation for their departure, with part of the 91st, for Fort Beaufort, with supplies and ammunition. Great doubts were entertained as to whether this long train of waggons, with its slender guard, would be permitted to pass unmolested through the Ecca Valley, twelve miles from Graham’s Town, the road winding along the edge of a precipice, and being commanded by a steep krantz. From this narrow road, where only one waggon at a time can pass with safety, you look down on a bush so dense that hundreds of savages might be concealed there; and, on the opposite side, tremendous mountains, fit haunts for the savage, or the wild beast, slope down, overshadowing the valley with awful gloom; while the mocking echoes give back the sharp slash of the waggoner’s whip, or the crack of the traveller’s rifle, with a strange precision.

Every precaution was taken to ensure a safe passage through this defile, and a slow match was so placed in the ammunition-waggon that, had the Kaffirs poured suddenly upon the party in such numbers as to render it impossible to save all the waggons, the ammunition was to be left in their hands as an instrument of destruction. Happily, the party met with no obstruction; but all the day long we were listening in expectation of the explosion in the Ecca. Meanwhile, farms still blazed around us, the hills were obscured by smoke, and, as night approached, fresh rumours arose of “Kaffirs close to the town.” About ten o’clock, we were again warned of danger; our first notice was the blast of the bugle sounding the “alarm” close to our windows. Fatigued with the watching and excitement of the previous night, we had retired early to rest. We were up in an instant. Lucifers were at a premium that night, I am sure: great was the smell of brimstone—fit atmosphere for the expected foe. Still, we had become too much accustomed to the cry of “Kaffirs!” to feel great alarm; and, to say truth, there was something in being within stone walls, and under a roof on which the brand could take no effect.

 

Hark!—the gun booms from the battery above. What a volume of sound rolls through the heavy air! Another blast from the bugle, taken up and echoed back by others! Another sound of cannon from a piece of artillery, within three hundred yards of us! How the windows rattle!—how the roof shivers! We are all up and astir—the children laugh, and cry, and look bewildered—and the monkey hides whatever is most wanted—and the doors fly open, and there are—not Kaffirs—only terrified women and children seeking refuge.

I was in some alarm, from the dread of muskets going off in the hands of the people unaccustomed to the use of them; but had less fear of Kaffirs than on the previous night, as we had no cattle in the Drostdy Square, and it is for that booty alone that they will risk life recklessly; so some of us went up stairs, and sat between the windows, and the servants placed mattresses against the shutters below.

Then there was a gathering together of all the fighting men that could be collected, and a sorry show they made in the way of numbers. A heavy fire was kept up along the hills, and still the farms and bush blazed on; but no Kaffirs entered the town, so we retired a little after midnight, the younger members of the party deeply regretting that we had been alarmed for nothing. No Kaffirs! What a pity after such a commotion! In such stirring times, the young, though naturally kind-hearted, have little thought for the ruined settler, the miserable widow, the motherless parents, the devastated land.

Some cattle had been fought for, and captured by the Fingoes on the Bathurst road, about two miles from Graham’s Town. Hence the alarm!

The murder of Mr Norden, which I have before alluded to, was the next event of painful importance, and the inhabitants of the town maintained a vigilant and defensive position until the arrival of Colonel Somerset’s division, on the 29th. Colonel Somerset’s presence, with his serviceable band, inspired the settlers of Lower Albany with confidence, and he remained scarcely two days for rest and refreshment of men and horses, ere he again started for the bush. He had made such arrangements at Beaufort as had enabled him to move without waggons, those heavy incumbrances to troops in South Africa, and wisely diverging from the Ecca pass, had completely eluded the Kaffirs. He again prepared to start, equally unencumbered, to clear the eastern side of the heathen marauders. Immense mischief had been already dome, but there were yet many settlers whose lives and property awaited succour, and Colonel Somerset led his division to a point where they could work at once, and with the best effect. The force consisted of 150 of the Cape Corps, a detachment of the 7th Dragoon Guards, parties of the Cradock and Albany Burghers, under their respective commandants, and two light field-pieces, under Captain Browne and Lieutenant Gregory, R.A., making altogether a force off 800 men. The Cape Corps cheered heartily as they defiled through Graham’s Town, taking the road to Woest’s Hill, it being intended to occupy the old position of Major Frazer, Cape Regiment, at Lombard’s post, so celebrated in Kaffir warfare, and by which great part of the eastern division of the colony might be protected.

Volumes might be filled were I to detail half the miseries to which the colonists had been subjected during the operations of the troops in Kaffirland. None but those who have experienced it, can have an idea of the nature of the foe to which they were exposed.

The Kaffir, at the first onset, is perhaps less ferocious than cunning, and more intent on serving his own interests by theft than on taking life from the mere spirit of cruelty; but once roused, he is like the wild beast after the taste of blood, and loses all the best attributes of humanity. The movement of a body of these savages through the land may be likened to a “rushing and a mighty wind.” On, on they sweep! like a blast; filling the air with a strange whirr—reminding me, on a grand scale, of a flight of locusts. An officer of rank, during the Kaffir war of 1835, was riding with a body of troops across the country, when suddenly his attention was arrested by a cloud of dust; then a dark silent mass appeared, and, lo! a multitude of beings, more resembling demons than men, rushed past. There were no noises, no sound of footsteps, nothing but the shiver of the assegais, which gleamed as they dashed onwards. The party of soldiery was too small to render an advance prudent, and though it is not improbable the Kaffirs observed the detachment of troops, from which they were distant scarcely half a mile, they did not stop on their way. They were bent on some purpose, and would not turn aside from it.

The same officer described to me a scene which had struck him particularly when, on an expedition far up the country, many years ago. His regiment was bivouacked along the ridge of a chain of hills during the night. At dawn, he rose to reconnoitre, and, looking below, beheld, as he imagined, an immense herd of cattle. As the sun advanced, lighting up the valley, a solitary figure stepped out from the supposed herd, and springing on an ant-heap, waved an assegai, and probably spoke, though nothing could be heard. Each shield of bullock’s hide then gave up its armed warrior, who had been sleeping beneath its shelter; the wild chant of the Fingoes filled the valley with strange harmony; and, in a few minutes a phalanx was formed, in readiness for the approach of the troops, to whom these Fingoes were attached as allies. They have well repaid the white man’s good will.

Although the Fingoes were the slaves of the Kaffirs till Sir Benjamin D’Urban, the good, the true, the generous, and the brave, released them from their bondage; and, although the Kaffirs to this day denominate them their “dogs,” the Fingoes are in many respects their superiors; and during this war we had ample opportunity of judging of their patience, bravery, and fidelity. The mode of warfare of these two tribes, for they cannot be considered distinct nations, is in some respects different. The Kaffir goes forth to battle besmeared with red clay, simply arrayed with his kaross, armed with his musket and assegai, and accoutred with his pouch and sack, for ammunition, plunder, and provisions.

The appearance of a body of Fingoes, if less terrific, is more imposing. Their heads are ornamented with jackals’ tails, ostrich plumes, beads, wolves’ teeth, etc. Across their shoulders is flung a skin, and around their waist is girt a kilt of monkeys’ tails. The chief, as among the Kaffirs, wears a tiger-skin kaross, and their rain-makers, who are at once wizards, doctors, and councillors, are most fearfully grotesque in their costume.

The Fingoes also bear enormous shields, which they use with great dexterity, for defence and excitement, sometimes beating time on them as on a drum; they are also much more ready to meet an enemy on an open plain than the Kaffirs. The latter on seeing an enemy, raise a hideous yell of defiance, and utter the most frightful sounds in imitation of lions, tigers, jackals, wolves, snakes, etc, by way of intimidating their assailants, before the attack commences. A Kaffir meditating a death-blow with his assegai is a terrific object. Now, he advances, his eyes starting from their sockets, his brilliant teeth glittering between his huge lips, which emit these horrible imitations, his head thrown back, his whole body writhing and trembling in the excitement of his anxiety to take a steady aim, his arm upraised, and his spear poised. The very sight of him is sufficient to inspire the bravest with dread, for such encounters cannot be considered as fair fights between man and man. The Kaffirs, too, have all the cunning of the wild beast, and we may be thankful in having the Fingoes as our allies in tiny contest with them; for, while they are sufficiently civilised and instructed to co-operate with our troops, they are of infinite use in herding cattle and defending passes. They will lie down on the watch for hours, and imitate the cries of animals to attract the attention of the Kaffirs, who find themselves encountered by creatures of their own mould, instead of the wolf, or the jackal, they expected. Sometimes, on the other hand, the Kaffirs will encircle the Fingoes, and dance round them yelling frightfully; now roaring like a lion, now hissing like a serpent; but it is seldom that the Kaffirs conquer the Fingoes, unless the latter are inferior in numbers.

14By reference to Colonel Tulloch’s official Reports on Invaliding and Mortality in the Army it will be seen that the rate of sickness and death among the troops at the Cape is less than in England.
15The Drostdy barracks occupy the site of the Landros, or Dutch magistrate’s house, hence the name.

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