Miles BOWKER

Not many people know that the Eastern Cape has a fascinating link with the ill-fated House of Stuart. This is the famous Bouchier silver seal, which was attached to the death warrant of Charles I, the only king in English history to die on the scaffold. The seal originally belonged to John Bouchier, one of Cromwell's regicide judges. The family name was subsequently changed to Bowker, and the seal was brought to South Africa by the 1820 Settler, Miles Bowker. It is now owned by the head of the family Mr. J. M. P. Bowker, of Middelburg, Cape.

Miles Bowker, a man of fifty-six years of age, came from one of the most influential families in England. After his arrival at the Cape, he was given a large grant of land, five thousand acres in extent, at Tharfield near the coast between the Fish and the Kowie Rivers. Here he settled down with his wife, his nine sons, his two daughters and his eight European servants.

Unlike some of his fellow settlers, and in spite of his age, Miles strongly approved of his adopted country. Only a few years after his arrival at Tharfield, he wrote to a friend in England that he possessed: "One of the finest spots in this country lying about four miles from the mouth of the Great Fish River ... Our fruit trees, though only three years from the stone or cutting are bearing fruit. We have planted about 15,000 vines many of which are now bearing. Our prospects of improvement will be also much in feeding, as in cattle, sheep and pork, we can have an excellent market for it salted at the Kowie, where our cheese, which we make very good, as well as fat and hides, find a good market ... We have plenty of fish and game and almost every description of wild beast from the elephant and hippopotamus to the mouse on my premises. Our worst enemy is the wolf dog which hunts in packs and will pull down an ox before our eyes in the daytime. In other respects we arc in a land of Myrtles and Evergreens .. we have in very little been disappointed in this country".

Miles Bowker was one of the pioneers of the wool industry in the Eastern Province. With some other gentlemen he introduced the merino sheep into these parts. After the sheep had been sheared the wool was spun into yarn by the women at Tharfield. It was then sent to Samuel Bradfield. This enterprising settler had set up a mill at Bathurst for weaving blankets, and had imported English jennies for the purpose. But this early Eastern Cape industry was not a success and so the wool was subsequently sent to Mr. Allison of Grahamstown, who used it for manufacturing felt hats.

Miles was appointed a Heemraad of Albany in 1821, a very important position in those days. He died at Tharfield and was buried there in 1839. After his death, his large family played a distinguished part in the stormy history of our country.

When the Seventh Kafir War broke out in 1846, the eldest son, John Mitford, was farming at Willow Fountain near Carlyle Bridge, while his younger brother, Miles, occupied the adjoining property, Thorn Kloof. By this time most of the Bowker family had trekked to this vicinity, and as soon as danger threatened they went into laager at Thorn Kloof. Here, with their herds of cattle and sheep, they prepared to resist the attack of the Xosa braves. This was not long in coming.

"On the evening of 2nd May 1846 a herdsman ran down to `Thorn Kloof' house, calling out 'Baas, Baas, die Kaffers is tussen die skaape en ja hulle wegl' In an instant the whole of 'Thorn Kloof' was stirred into violent activity. Klaas and Stoffel, the two `Tots, were sent off hell-for-leather down the hill to bring in all the other horses.

William and Miles with Willem Nel and Jan Depre had been out on guard most of the day and had just returned to the house, tired after many hours in the saddle. They turned about immediately and set off for the top of the kloof to see if they could save the sheep, leaving Mitford and some of the others to follow as soon as the horses were brought in. `I am going off on foot', said Mitford, 'we cannot wait for the horses; it'll take those `Tots half an hour to get them here'. Taking an extra powder-horn from a peg on the wall he called to the others to join him and set off after the horsemen, followed by young Webb, John Atherstone, John Henry, and two Boer neighbours, Jan and Hendrik Nel. Alternately walking and running, they covered the two miles to the top of the koof in about twenty minutes, but on the way up they could hear firing. 'The shooting doesn't seem to be all on our side', said Webb, 'the Kaffirs must have a lot of guns. Those damn traders and missionaries who sell guns and powder to the Kaffirs, knowing all the time that they will be used against the white men, should be shot with their own weapons.

When they got to the top of the ridge they saw William, Miles, and Nel firing away at a large number of Kaffirs. Jan Depre's horse had floundered and he was not with them. The Kaffirs had been trying to drive a lot of the sheep into the kloof when the white men had intercepted them. The scared sheep were running here and there while those Kaffirs without guns tried in vain to gather them together and drive them away. About thirty Kaffirs, many on horseback, were fighting a sort of rearguard action, firing back at the white men and hoping they would be able to gain enough time for the others to escape with the sheep. Already several natives had been killed or wounded, while other Kaffirs were taking cover behind the sheep and would suddenly bob up and take a pot shot at the white men. A big cloud of white smoke would mark the spot, while the Kaffir would duck down again and reload.

Mitford and his companions were just planning how they could best reach their comrades when they noticed a large body of Kaffirs mustering at the fork of the kloof with the obvious intention of attacking the three white men from the rear. Of this group about a hundred were mounted, and when they saw the six pedestrians they obviously decided they would be easier meat than the mounted trio, for a moment later the entire body swept down in a wide crescent. Those on horseback were bunched together and were a very good target, those on foot, particularly the men armed only with shields and assegais, spread out on the left and right in a huge semicircle. Along this part of the hill-side there are some bont bushes which grow in clusters and offer good cover. Mitford and his companions retreated rapidly from bush to bush amid a hail of badly directed bullets. The Kaffirs appeared to be afraid to charge in upon them but kept at about 80 yards distance and relied more on the flint-lock than the assegai. They were so thickly crowded along the hill-side that practically every shot from the white men wounded or killed some of the enemy.

Just as they were getting down to the lower bush young Webb's ankle was smashed by a bullet, another bullet pierce John Henry's sleeve, while a third lifted Mitford's foot off the ground. As they rushed for shelter Webb called out 'Oh, Mr. Bowker, don't leave me, I am wounded and fainting', and looking round they saw that he had fallen.

Mitford rushed back calling out, 'My dear fellow, never dream that we will leave you', and while the others kept the Kaffirs at bay they got him up on John Henry's back and continued their retreat down the hill. The Kaffirs were trying an outflanking movement, when suddenly the leaders were shot dead. Octavius Bowker and Fred Barber with Holden and Septimus had come up from the house, a bit late but nevertheless at a most opportune moment, for the party, handicapped as they were by young Webb, was almost surrounded.

The Kaffirs, too, realised that the white men would escape if they did not get them soon. Their chief, a son of Mapassa, rode forward on a white horse to urge his men on. As he was directing his mounted men he was shot by Holden. While the Kaffirs crowded around their fallen leader, the retreating white men lessened considerably the distance between them and the house. They were joined by the three horsemen, who had to make a long detour, and William put Webb on his horse

The Kaffir shooting was wild and inaccurate and the mounted men appeared to have little command of their horses. Amid a hail of badly aimed bullets the party at last reached the 'Thorn Kloof' house.

John Atherstone had been using an old musket that frequently misfired and the powder that he had poured into the pan had blown into his face and made a great blue patch on his cheek. Seeing this as he entered the house in the dusk, his wife Anna thought he had been wounded and was greatly relieved to hear that it was only gunpowder smoke. Young Webb was the only casualty, and he died from his wound within a few days. If it had been possible to amputate his smashed foot he might have been saved.

That night between five and six hundred Kaffirs mustered on the hill, obviously discussing whether they could take the laager, but they apparently decided to abandon the idea. But the Bowkers needed help badly if they were to save themselves and their stock. For a consideration of 60 dollars one of their Fingoes was persuaded to run through to Fort Beaufort with a message to the Governor asking him for assistance. On Sunday the Kaffirs were round about the place all day and the stock had to be kept at the homestead. They had managed to get all William's sheep and some of Octavius's and kept driving a few hundred head on to the ridge in the hope that the white men would again be tempted to come out into the open, but the Bowkers had a spy-glass and could see the Kaffirs hiding in the bush.

Though the Kaffirs kept out of range during the day, they were much bolder at night and opened fire on the homestead from several sides at once. The defenders crouched by the windows and fired back at the musket flashes. The bullets could be heard as they ricocheted off the stony veld. The Kaffir bullets thudded against the wall of the house, occasionally smashing through a door or a shutter. If the flash was visible the position was given a volley of bullets and buckshot. In the kitchen the women melted lead and cast fresh bullets, but never was the supply enough for the twenty men defending the house. A fiery stick came whizzing through the darkness, but it failed to reach the thatch roof, and the defenders replied with a heavy volley of buckshot and loopers. Slowly the firing lessened and after about an hour it appeared that the enemy had withdrawn.

Mitford called the defenders together to hear their reports of the fighting. The only casualty was Klaas, who had been hit in the head and killed outright. After detailing two sentries and their reliefs, the rest of the party were told to get as much sleep as possible.

On the Monday night the Fingo got back from Fort Beaufort with a reply from the Governor to the effect that 'he much regrets that it is not in his power to spare a single man'. The Bowkers then held a consultation and decided to get away while the going was good. As Mitford expressed it, 'What can we do? Our sheep are going by the hundred and though perhaps we can save our lives we shall be starved out in a week and perhaps not have an ox to trek with'.

They consequently decided to start the next morning, packed everything that they wanted to save into their seven wagons, and with sorrowful hearts left 'Thorn Kloof' and trekked over to Jan Nel's laager".

Thomas Holden, the fourth son, was the founder of Queenstown and designed its famous Hexagon. Originally all the streets of the town led out from the sides of the Hexagon like the spokes of a wheel. The idea was that if the inhabitants were surprised by a sudden Native attack all they had to do was to run towards the centre of the town, to reach the sanctuary of the fort there. Bowker's Kop, a prominent mountain in the district, commemorates his name.

Thomas had many unusual experiences. On one occasion, he was returning to Tharfield from an expedition against the Fetcani, an invading Amangwane tribe of freebooters. While he was preparing a meal he heard a small child crying. On investigation he found a two-year old Kafir baby ill an antbear hole, covered with a flat stone. The baby had obviously been abandoned by its mother who was fleeing from the Fetcani. It was half starved and almost dead from exposure. After attending to its wants Thomas strapped it on to his back and took it home to Tharfield with him. Here it was handed over to a Kafir woman, who was promised a cow if the child survived. Resurrection Jack, as the boy was christened, lived to a ripe old age and served the family faithfully for many years.

On another occasion Thomas was riding behind a party of burghers, who were clearing the Xosas out of a patch of bush. Suddenly from behind a large rock four warriors rose and fired at him, at point-blank range. They missed and as he galloped off he swung round in his saddle and gave them a charge of buckshot and loopers. When he and his burghers returned that evening they found all four Natives lying dead - shot through the head.

But perhaps his most daring exploit was when, as a lad of nineteen, he attacked and killed a full-grown leopard, although he was only armed with a club. His brother, Bertram, gives us a vivid account of the incident:

"I recollect one Sunday Holden, Robert and me were all out with the cattle near the sea and one of us said 'Let's go and hunt Jerry's sand hills for a bees' nest'. That was a large sea-shore forest that went by that name with us boys. Away we started. It so happened that three of our dogs were with us. When we got to the bush we separated about 50 yards from each other, to search all the large, old trees.

We had not got far into the bush when the three dogs Tuck, Turrie and Folly went furiously past me in the bush, down to where Holden was. I thought they were after a buck as there was many bucks' spoors about. After a while I heard them barking as if they had something at bay. I said to Robert, 'What's up? Them dogs have something at bay'. After a while they ceased to bark and Holden called us to come. When we got to the place he had killed a large tiger. As we had neither guns nor assegais we asked `How did you kill him?' 'I cut that stick'. The stick was about as thick as a pick handle and a little longer. `While he was sitting against that bush keeping the dogs off with his claws I went quietly behind him and just as he had his eyes on the dogs and was about to strike at them I caught him behind the head and down he went. The dogs pinned him and I gave him 2 or 3 more and that settled his hash for him"'.

This was by no means an isolated example of Thomas Holden's daring recklessness. Some time later, he and his brother, William, had another singular encounter with a leopard. The "tiger", harried by the Bowker hunting dogs, jumped into a large pool of water, and the two brothers immediately sprang in after it.

William was armed with a gun and Thomas with a hunting spear. Standing waist-deep in the water, William was about to fire, when his brother shouted out, "Don't shoot, you will spoil the skin". Waiting his opportunity, he suddenly plunged his spear into the tiger's open mouth, down its throat, and into its chest, killing it instantly.

In some ways Thomas Holden was a most eccentric character. He was an expert archer and killed many birds and bucks with his bow and arrow. In fact his achievements in this field rivalled those of Robin Hood. But if the freakish mood were on him he would send an arrow unerringly through a tin poised on the head of a passing Kafir girl and drench his unsuspecting victim with water. Sometimes, too, he would visit Grahamstown, fill his pockets with tickeys and coppers and throw out handfuls of coins to the street urchins who followed him through the streets.

In 1863, he had the unique distinction for an Englishman, born in England, of being asked to stand for the Presidency of a Boer Republic, the Orange Free State. In the subsequent election, he was, however, defeated by John Henry Brand.

All the Bowker boys had the most amazing bushveld adventures and hairbreadth escapes. Bertram, for example, when still quite a youngster, once warded off death from a charging leopard with a charge of bird shot!

'No sooner had we got into Smith's Wood when we found the tiger's scent and spoor. We soon had him in full chase but he came to a stand in a very thick part of the bush. Dogs barking at him. Could not see him. Out he bolted, down the bush and into another den. I went down on the low side. Old Tuck, our best dog was on the other side. I only saw his tail when he was killing Tuck. Up the bush again with the other dogs after him, soon to stand again when we all got around him. He made a spring at 'Sheepdog' but did not catch him. I said 'I can sec a little bit of him' so I let him have it and out he came at us. 'Look out' I said, 'here he comes'. When about 8 yards off I gave him partridge shot in the face and put both his eyes clean out. He still came on through the smoke. I jumped out of his way as he bounded past and off down the bush with the dogs after him, we three brothers following as hard as we could run and shout. When we came up the tiger had dropped dead and the dogs were mauling him".

Even more amazing was Septimus' encounter with a lion, while he was on a hunting trip in the Orange Free State with his brother, Octavius. He actually had his cap knocked off by the king of the beasts and yet lived to tell the tale.

"One day the two were after a lion which had been wounded. The dogs had it at bay and as the brothers closed in to get a better shot the lion suddenly charged Sep. Octavius fired, and although he seldom missed, the shot had no immediate effect on the lion. Sep with his two-groove `tower musket' stood aiming at the oncoming lion, but held his fire, knowing that if he missed there would be no time to load again. On came the lion in a series of big bounds and in the very last bound, while the lion was actually in the air, Sep fired right into its mouth. A lion is no mean weight, often as much as 500 lb., and the weight of this one flattened Sep. Octavius rushed up and pulled the lion off. It was dead; it had died in its last leap.

Sep was not injured in any way. He was a bit dusty and out of breath after being used by the lion as a death-bed, and his leather cap had been knocked off his head".

Octavius also had his full share of thrilling experiences. At the capture of Fort Armstrong in 1850, he had his shoe shot off and the bullet left a blue mark on his sock. Octavius founded the firm of Hayton and Bowker, which did a big trade with the Boers in firearms. He was reputed to be the best shot in South Africa and could knock off the top of an anthill at a range of "two north country miles and an inch". This of course made him a great favourite among experts like the Boers, and he took good care before selling them guns to give a demonstration of his skill. As a result he was always able to dispose of his "special" two-groove tower musket for an additional five pounds. Strangely enough by the time he reached the next farm, he had invariably acquired another special gun, which made possible his wonderful feats of markmanship. So famous did these special guns become that their proud owners invariably referred to them as "Bowkers".

Octavius' wife, Mary Anne, was also a first-class shot. Once, when she and her husband were camped out near a river, two young Boers rode over to try their skill against the famous rooinek sharpshooter. Unfortunately Octavius was away, visiting a neighbouring farm. Mrs. Bowker, however, hospitably entertained them to coffee and cake, and then casually picking
up a Bowker firearm took careful aim at an antheap, which was a considerable distance off. She hit it plumb in the middle, and her visitors, taking a hurried departure, decided not to wait for Octavius' return!

The youngest son, James Henry, the only member of the family to be born in South Africa, became the first Commandant of the famous Frontier Armed and Mounted Police. One day he outstripped his men in a charge and found himself isolated among the enemy. Before the police could catch up with him he had killed four Kafirs with his revolver.

James was a great bird lover, and one of his favourite pets was a turkey bizzard, which he had caught and tamed as a chick.

"This bird was devoted to him and was intensely jealous of anybody who came near the Colonel. He slept near him and used to follow him all over the place. When the Colonel was lying desperately ill in bed the bird walked distractedly up and down and tried to pull the sheets with his beak in his efforts to make the Colonel get out of bed. Finally the bird darted out of the room and returned triumphantly with an enormous frog and placed it near him. When he found Colonel Bowker was not interested the bird came back with a lizard in his beak, and danced up and down at the side of his bed. However, the lizard proved disappointing. After an absence of a few hours the bird came back wild with excitement with a wriggling grass snake in his beak and was most distressed to see the native take it away. Colonel Bowker, relating the episode afterwards to Mr. Roberts, said he had never been so touched in his life with the fidelity, thought and intelligence of the bird".

Mary, the eldest girl, was also a remarkable character. Entirely self-educated she became an authority on Botany, Natural History and Entomology, and was the friend of Charles Darwin, Dr. Harvey and other great scientists of the day.

After she had married Frederick Barber she went with him to the newly discovered Kimberley diamond fields, and spent three years there at Colesberg Kopje, Du Toit's Pan, and Bultfontein. While on the Fields she painted many watercolours of her surroundings. These now hang in the Albany Museum, and one in particular is of peculiar historical interest, as it depicts the famous Kimberley Kopje with a large thorn tree in the foreground. It was under this identical tree that Mrs. Ortlepp was sitting one Sunday afternoon about a year later. She was idly scratching in the sand with her parasol, when she unearthed the diamond which led to the Colesberg Kopje rush and to the discovery of the Big Hole of Kimberley.

In their young days, the Bowkers of Tharfield were such tough customers that marauding Native bands usually left them severely alone. But sooner or later, like all frontiersmen in those troublous times, the Bowkers had to flee for their lives. One stormy night while the family was at supper, a horseman galloped furiously up to the homestead and breathlessly informed them that yet another Kafir War had broken out and that a large impi was only nine miles away and heading straight for the farm.
"Make for Bathurst", shouted the messenger, as he galloped off to warn the next farmer.

Instantly the sheep and cattle were rounded up and sent ahead, a wagon was inspanned and all the available food and bedding were put on it. Then the priceless Bouchier family plate, valuables and heirlooms, were collected on the diningroom table and tied up in a stout table cloth. Four of the stalwart sons carried their precious burden into the dense bush behind the house. About half-a-mile away, somewhere below the road to Bathurst, they buried the treasure in a large antbear hole, near an old red milkwood tree. No sooner had they finished when the rain came pouring down and wiped away all traces of their work.

The Bowkers managed to escape in the nick of time, and reached Bathurst safely. Soon afterwards the savage warriors arrived and looted the place, but although they spared the homestead they carried off everything they could lay their hands on.

It was some years before the family returned to the abandoned farm. The Bowker sons searched frantically for the lost treasure, but were unable to locate its site, as a bush fire had destroyed many of the familiar landmarks. Successive generations have in vain tried to find the treasure. Mr. Mitford-Barberton, in his "Barbers of the Peak", relates how he and some of his relatives excavated a huge hole under a tree where there was a slight depression in the ground. Their excitement was great when they came to a large flat stone. Eagerly they levered it out and found - a Native skeleton!

In his enthusiasm, a member of the family, Denis Hoole, even consulted the famous King Williamstown witchdoctor, Jajula. Mr. Hoole paid the doctor's consulting fee, a bottle of brandy, and told him that he wanted him to find something that had been lost. In spite of this meagre clue, old Jajula
threw the dolosse and then gave a graphic description of what had occurred.

"I see it all now", he chanted, "It is night time and there is a Kaffir war on and the white people are running backwards and forwards putting things into a wagon that is inspanned and standing at the door. Others are putting white metal pots on to the table - they are not really pots because the white people do not cook in them but only keep food in them. (He was referring to the family silver). They are tying the things up in a blanket. It is not really a blanket because white people put it on the table when they eat (tablecloth). They tie all the things up in a big bundle and they carry it out of the door towards the sea. No. Not towards the sea because they go out of the back door. They carry it down the hill and bury it in the ground. It is still there. It is so deep in the ground. (Holding out his hand and indicating a depth of about 4 feet). The place where it was buried has since been ploughed up and made into a garden. The garden is fenced round and has a gate formed by two tall poles tied together at the top with wire. The things are buried in the ground about the width of a hut from the left gate post".

But although the garden was dug up at the spot indicated by the witchdoctor, the Tharfield treasure remained undetected.

One of the most recent visitors to investigate the mystery was Mr. R. Schauder of Port Elizabeth. He used a mine detector but without success. Of course the treasure may have been located by the Natives and looted by them. But this is unlikely as some traces of it would almost certainly have come to light. General Bisset, author of "Sport and War", mentions that during the War of the Axe he shot a Kafir who was carrying a buckskin bag over his shoulder. When he opened the bag he found to his surprise that it contained several pieces of real English plate. There was an old-fashioned silver teapot, a snuffertray, two silver forks, a tablespoon, and two teaspoons. There were no marks or crest on the silver, and although he advertised the articles no one ever claimed them, so they could not have been part of the Tharfield hoard.

Perhaps one day a ploughshare put into the ground to extend a farmer's pineapple lands may turn up an old silver candlestick or soup tureen, and so finally solve the legend of the Bowker treasure.