CHRISTMAS 1878.--THE INVASION OF ZULULAND
A woman the ultimate cause of the Zulu War--Preparations for
a campaign--Christmas Day--Forming an advanced base--A
disappointing Honours gazette--Conference with Lord
Chelmsford--I decline to be Resident in Zululand--Seketwayo’s
vacillation--Captain Woodgate’s indifference to danger--We
defeat the Makulusi, Nodwengu, and Udloko Regiments, and hear
of Isandwhlana--Boers as waggoners--They pull over a champion
team in a Tug-of-war.
Sir Theophilus Shepstone came to stay with me, Christmas Eve 1878, for
three days, and gave me much valuable information about the Zulus.
He was particularly kind, and I appreciated it the more because the
High Commissioner having made me a Political Agent for North Zululand
and Swaziland, had virtually taken the control of our policy in those
countries, as regards the natives, out of his hands. This, however,
increased my work, and I had more than I could do. My diary shows that
at 6.30 a.m. I was inspecting Mounted infantry, and a more ragged crew
perhaps was never got together, except the professional beggars on a
stage. I was much dissatisfied, for the first horse I looked at was
about to get a sore back, his saddle cloth being twisted up under the
saddle. Many of the men had only 10 rounds of ammunition, instead of
75. I got back to breakfast at 8 a.m., when Captain Barton[167] rode in
from Major Buller’s camp, where he was doing good work, which justified
my recommendation of him for Special service. During breakfast time, a
hurried meal, I gave him instructions, as he was going to Wesselstroom
to buy horses, grain, and vegetables. At nine o’clock I had a second
inspection of the 90th Light Infantry, looking at every man’s boots,
which were unsatisfactory; this took till 11.30. My excellent Major was
much vexed by my telling him that the kits of no two companies were
laid out in the same manner, for this, though perhaps not of great
importance in itself, takes the inspecting officer more time. Nor were
his men’s “small books” signed for the previous month. Then I passed
on, telling the Royal Engineer officer what was required in the Laager
to make it defensible.
The Landdrost now appeared, with the Townspeople, and asked how many
soldiers were to be left to protect them. “I am not going to leave
any, except the halt and the maimed.” “The Townspeople can defend
the Laager, and the halt and maimed my stores, and if I lose them it
won’t much matter to me.” One of the local leaders said, “If you lose
your stores you will starve!” I replied, “I shall have two months’
supplies at Balte Spruit, 20 miles in advance; and all I promise the
Utrecht Townspeople is a decent burial on my return.” Then the Senior
doctor came and asked me our plan of campaign. Surgeon-Major Cuffe,
however, was a good organiser, and took all trouble in that respect off
my hands. Then a Captain came and told me he could not work with his
Senior officer, and must leave him. I suspected that the complainant
had a hot temper, but sent him to work on Transport duty. Next, Major
Clery appeared,[168] and said that Captain Barton had annexed a waggon.
The dispute turned on a point of grammar. Clery wrote, “Send them
back.” Barton read this to mean “oxen.” Clery meant “waggon and oxen.”
They both quoted Lindley Murray at length. Captain Woodgate then wanted
me to look at, and buy, two horses which were outside. I told him to
ask Clery to buy, or reject, the horses. At this moment I was reminded
that I was to give an address on the Zulu nation and its army on the
following Friday night, to which I had not yet given a thought! When I
could obtain ten minutes without interruption, I was considering how to
equip 1000 natives without any means at hand. To this number I later
added another 1000, and as officers speaking Zulu had to be found, as
well as blankets, guns, and something to carry powder and bullets, or
ammunition, it will be understood the work was of an engrossing nature.
I began work at daylight on Christmas Day 1878, and went to a Church
parade at 7 a.m., and then did some odd jobs till 8.30, when we had a
Sacrament service, for which Major Buller and Captain Barton rode in
ten miles. It was pleasant to see our boldest polo players, who had
hustled me the previous evening, Bright, Hotham, and Lysons, at the
service. All three were fine bold boys; Bright had been the stroke oar
of the Eton Eight. They came in to breakfast, which caused some little
difficulty about knives and forks, as Sir Theophilus Shepstone was
still with me. He worked with me for a couple of hours after breakfast,
and then I did business with the doctors and commissariat.
I saw my guest off about midday, but when I returned from a ride to
Major Buller’s camp, I found that Sir Theophilus had come back, for his
mule driver was drunk, and all the mules were lost. This was, however,
my gain, as I could not see too much of my guest, and it cleared up
our relations. He wrote to me later from Newcastle, he had previously
imagined Sir Bartle Frere was under the impression that he was not
supporting me; the idea was, however, erroneous. Sir Theophilus and I
had disagreed as to putting in force the Transvaal Commando law. He
thought it would be better to make it applicable to Whites and Blacks,
and I wanted it enforced only for Natives, in order to obtain drivers
and foreloupers for my waggons, and the black men who formed Wood’s
regiment, many of whom, however, came voluntarily, as indeed they
well might, at 1s. a day. I always received the warmest support from
Sir Theophilus, and the misunderstanding was caused, I think, by my
diffidence in expressing, after so short a residence in the country,
any opinion which did not coincide with that of one who had spent his
life in South Africa.
On the 26th December I started a Company, 13th, and one of the 90th
Light Infantry with a convoy of waggons to fill up Balte Spruit, a
position I had selected 20 miles to the southward of Utrecht. About
midday I received a message from Captain Woodgate that all the waggons
were stuck in a ravine 10 miles distant, and later it became necessary
to encamp a company at three different places to assist the oxen when
they were unable to “pull out” by themselves.
At the end of the month I got a very kind letter from the General--now
Lord Chelmsford--relative to the Gazette of Honours and Rewards for the
Operations in the Amatola Mountains, which had just been received.[169]
The confidence which the General gave me enabled me to urge a more
concentrated advance than he had at first intended, and this was
eventually adopted, as was another suggestion I made, that we should
purchase all the Transport we might require, as being not only a
cheaper arrangement, but the only feasible plan to ensure success. Any
disappointment I felt about the Gazette was mitigated by the fact that
several officers whom I had recommended received promotion, including
two in the 90th Light Infantry. Some other selections, although made,
no doubt, on what appeared to those in Pall Mall adequate grounds,
caused much amusement in the Colony, for of two of the Seniors who
became Companions of the Bath, one had been relegated to the command
of 30 privates and the Regimental band, 500 miles from the scene of
action, and the other assumed charge of a few loyal natives in a
peaceful district.
The Military Secretary treated me with great kindness, and allowed me
to write to him freely, so I urged on his attention the omission of
Brevet Major Hackett’s name; and took the opportunity of telling Sir
Alfred Horsford that the delay in gazetting me to the command of the
Regiment had caused me to serve ten months in South Africa at 2s. a day
less pay than Captain Woodgate, or indeed any of the captains employed
on Special service, received.
When my last company joined at Utrecht, the officer in command informed
me he had heard all his way up that Colonel Wood was a wonderful judge
of oxen. This was an unfounded reputation, for I knew very little about
cattle. I had no Veterinary Surgeon, and was therefore obliged to look
closely at every beast myself; but the average price and quality was
undoubtedly satisfactory.
The incessant work, however, now began to tell on me, and my glands
swelled as they had done when I was overworked in the Amatola
Mountains, although for pleasure and on principle I played either
lawn-tennis or polo for an hour or two every evening, the subalterns of
the 90th being always available for a game.
On the 1st January one of my spies informed me that Cetewayo had
assured Sirayo that he should not be given up to the British
Government. Sirayo was not himself in fault, but the action of his
sons, and especially of the elder, Melokazulu,[170] was the ultimate
cause of Cetewayo’s downfall.
Sirayo, whose district was on the borders of Zululand, adjoining the
Buffalo River, had, like all important chiefs, many wives, and two
of the younger ones absconded with young Zulus resident in Natal.
Melokazulu followed with an armed party, and surrounding the kraal,
took the women back into Zululand, where he shot them. In the following
year I asked him in the course of conversation why he did not shoot the
men, and he answered simply, “Oh, my father did not pay for them as he
did for the women, for whom he gave cattle, and besides, the men were
subjects of the British Government.” “Did your father know that you had
gone after the wives?” “No.” “Did he approve of your having shot them?”
“I don’t know. I told him they were dead and he made no remark.”
I moved what was now called No. 4 column, consisting of the 13th and
90th Light Infantry, 4 guns, a varying number of horsemen, on the 3rd
January to Balte Spruit, near the Blood River, which we crossed on the
6th, after hearing that Cetewayo had not accepted the terms offered by
the High Commissioner.
I received a letter on the 9th January from the General, requesting me
to move down and demonstrate to the southward, to take pressure off him
as he crossed the Buffalo, and also, if he was unopposed, to meet him
personally about halfway from our respective positions.
I told the Zulus in our neighbourhood, and as far east as the White
Umvolosi, that they must decide before daylight on the 11th January
whether they intended to be friends, or foes. When, after the 11th,
Colonel Buller seized a large number of cattle, I asked some of the
Zulus why they had not driven them off, and they answered, “Oh, we
never thought you would begin on the day you mentioned.”
On the evening of the 10th, I moved with about two-thirds of the
column, having laagered and entrenched one-third, towards Rorke’s
Drift. It rained incessantly, and the Blood River behind us, usually
only 3 feet deep, became 11 feet in the course of a few hours, while
it was impossible to move a waggon over slight watercourses, without
putting on 50 men to help the oxen. I started at 2.30 a.m. for the
Itilezi, and soon after nine o’clock met Lord Chelmsford on the
Nkonjane Hill, 9 miles from Rorke’s Drift. No. 3 column had started
the previous day, but the difficulties of crossing the Buffalo were
considerable.
I had an interesting talk with Lord Chelmsford for three hours, while
Colonel Buller was sweeping up cattle to the south of the General’s
line of advance. After we had discussed the many affairs in which we
had been interested since we met three months earlier, he pressed me,
in the name of the High Commissioner, to accept the office of Resident
of Zululand. I urged that the Resident ought to speak the language, and
that, moreover, I was too fond of soldiering to leave the 90th Light
Infantry for Political employment. He was greatly pleased to learn that
I had got forty-two days’ supplies for man and beast at Balte Spruit,
besides a week’s rations I had with me, as No. 3 column had only
collected fifteen days’. Mr. Hughes, my Commissariat officer, had been
indefatigable in adding to my stores, for which purpose he had been
sent three weeks earlier from the Transvaal.
Before I left Lord Chelmsford, I warned him that, according to the
information given by my spies, the first serious Zulu attack would fall
on the column which he was accompanying. Three days later, on the 14th,
I informed His Lordship that no forward movement had been made from
Ulundi, but on the 17th I wrote, “My spies say that the Zulu Army,” or,
as they expressed it, “Cetewayo, is moving westward.”
On the 14th January I sent to tell Seketwayo, a Chief of considerable
importance, who had been negotiating with me since the 2nd, that I
could no longer herd the 2000 head of cattle we held taken from his
territory, but if he would come in, he should have them. The matter
was complicated, as a considerable number of the cattle belonged to
Cetewayo, or rather to the Royal House. The Chief could not make up his
mind, and having waited five days I sent the cattle away to the Free
State, where they were sold.
Being uneasy concerning Zulus to the north of our left flank, I
directed Colonel Buller to send there the Frontier Light Horse under
Captain Barton, who took between 500 and 600 head of cattle, clearing
the Pemvane and lower Bevane Rivers, while the column was moving
forward slowly, much impeded by heavy rain, to the Umvolosi.
I had obtained the General’s approval to my going in a north-easterly
direction to clear the Ityenteka Range, including the Inhlobane
mountain, of Zulus under Umsebe and Umbeline, hoping to be back before
the General was ready to advance with No. 3 column. Having reached
the Umvolosi River on the 19th, we built a fort at Tinta’s Kraal,
which, humanly speaking, should have been impregnable if held by two
companies, and off-loading seventy waggons I sent them in the afternoon
back towards Balte Spruit, escorted by Captain Wilson’s company of the
90th, with orders to fill up the waggons and return to Tinta’s Kraal,
where I intended to leave him, and a company of the 13th.
About 7 o’clock in the evening I got a note from Colonel Buller, saying
that he had been engaged for some hours on the Zunguin mountain with
several hundred of the Makulusi tribe, who were pressing him back, and,
as he was writing at sunset, had crossed in small numbers to the right
bank of the Umvolosi. This disturbed me considerably, for they were now
within a few miles of our empty waggons, and it was not only the chance
of the loss of the company and £21,000 worth of property, but it would
have been difficult to replace the waggons. I knew that the Convoy was
not more than 3 or 4 miles off, for there was a muddy ravine which
could only be passed with difficulty, and that Captain Wilson intended
to begin to cross it at daylight.
Captain Woodgate, seeing I was perturbed, asked me the reason, and on
reading to him Colonel Buller’s note, at once went to the Company,
although we were just going to have something to eat. He had the oxen
inspanned at once, the drivers and foreloupers on learning the news
being anxious to get away to a place of safety. His unconsciousness
of danger was shown by handing his horse to a Zulu when he dismounted
to help the waggons across the ravine, with the result that he never
saw it again for three days. Nothing of importance, however, occurred,
for Colonel Buller, by showing a bold front to the Makulusi, held them
on the river, and they retired after dark to their stronghold on the
highest part of the mountain.
On the night of the 20–21st we made a long night march with the 90th
Light Infantry, two guns and the mounted men starting at 11 p.m., and
at daylight climbed the western end of the Zunguin mountain, along
which we advanced during the day, taking some cattle and driving
1000 Zulus off it, they retiring to the Nek connecting it with the
Inhlobane. Looking down from the eastern extremity, we saw about 4000
Zulus drilling under the Ityenteka Nek; they formed in succession a
circle, triangle, and square, with a partition about eight men thick in
the centre.
We descended at night for water, and rejoined the 13th, the 90th Light
Infantry having been nineteen hours out of the twenty-four under arms,
and having covered a considerable distance. In mileage, however, it was
not so great as the distance covered by Wilson’s company escorting the
waggons, which filled up at once and returned to the Umvolosi, marching
34 miles in twenty-six hours.
We heard the guns[171] fired at Isandwhlana, 50 miles off, that evening
as we sat round a camp fire.
* * * * *
There was a thick mist on the morning of the 24th which delayed our
advance, but when it cleared we moved forward and came under fire
from Zulus hidden in the rocks under the south-western point of the
Inhlobane. Leaving the 90th and two guns to follow the waggon track
with the baggage, I went to the right with the 13th Light Infantry,
Piet Uys and his troop of 40 Burghers, with whom I was disappointed,
as it was necessary for Piet and myself to ride in front to induce
his men to go on to cover the advance of the guns. When we reached the
rocks from whence the fire had come, it was clear we could not hope
to get the guns down, so, after driving back a few Zulus who were in
broken ground, I turned northwards, and went to a hill under which
I had ordered the 90th to halt with the waggons and outspan. When I
got there the oxen had just been loosened from the Trek-tow, but to
my great vexation they were without any guard, and the 90th, which
ought to have been with them, was three-quarters of a mile in front,
advancing rapidly in line, without any supports, against some 4000
Zulus.[172] I looked up the ravine, which farther to the southward had
stopped my onward progress with the 13th Light Infantry and guns, and
was concerned to see about 200 Zulus coming down it towards the 90th’s
Ammunition carts, which had been left with some bugler boys, who had
no firearms. I had just told an orderly to call Colonel Buller, when I
was accosted by a Kafir who had ridden 48 miles from Utrecht bringing
a note from Captain Gardner, recounting the disaster of Isandwhlana,
of which he had been an eye-witness. Buller came to me at once, and
telling him in one sentence of the misfortune which had befallen No.
3 column, I sent him up the ravine to drive back the Zulus, while I
galloped to the 90th and expressed a strong opinion to the Senior
officer--not belonging to the Regiment--who had contravened my orders.
The Zulus in front of them made no stand. The young soldiers were very
steady, and expended less than two rounds of ammunition per man; but
the Zulus fled from the sight of the advancing line, and went ten paces
to one covered by our men. The Frontier Light Horse and the Dutchmen
pursued them until they climbed the Inhlobane mountain, and then after
a halt of two hours I ordered the column to fall in, and, against the
advice of some of the senior officers, read to the men the note I had
received.
We moved back as far as our camp of the previous day, and next
morning returned to our fort on the Umvolosi River. I was now in some
difficulty. I did not want to abandon Supplies, and I had 70 loads
for which I had no waggons. The Dutchmen, who were well provided with
waggons, and were themselves wonderful drivers of oxen, came to my
aid. Piet Uys and his men, who had only about 1000 lbs. weight on each
waggon, loaded up to 8000 lbs., and then we moved slowly westwards,
halting on the 28th at Venter’s Drift, where I was within reach of
firewood, our greatest want in that part of the country. There were
trees growing in the ravines south of the Ngaba Ka Hawane Mountain.
Here I received a considerate note from Lord Chelmsford, giving me
a brief account of the disaster at Isandwhlana, and telling me I
had a free hand to go anywhere or adopt any measures I might think
best, ending: “You must now be prepared to have the whole of the Zulu
Army on your hands any day.... No. 3 Column, when re-equipped, is to
subordinate its movements to your column. Let me know how it can assist
you.” I replied to Lord Chelmsford on the 31st January that I was in
a position on Kambula Hill which I anticipated being able to hold
even against the whole of the Zulu Army. I understood he did not wish
me to incur risk by advancing, and I would not move unless it became
necessary to do so in order to save Natal.
In spite of the carriage for stores lent to us by the Dutchmen, we
had some trouble before we succeeded in finding a good military and
sanitary Position, and even to men who did not feel much compassion for
oxen, to make them pull 8000 lbs. through swamps is trying to their
feelings as well as to the oxen’s hides. It has often been a wonder
to soldiers in South Africa how the Dutch, under Pretorius and other
leaders forty years earlier, took waggons up and down mountains which
appear to us impracticable for wheel traffic, but the maximum weight in
a waggon on Commando was 1500 lbs., five adults being allowed a waggon
between them, which of course made a great difference on a bad track.
The difficulties of transport caused me to halt every second or third
day, as I was obliged to make two journeys with my loads, and I soon
had warning that I could not remain in the valley of the Umvolosi, by
the loss of horses and oxen, followed by that of a man of the 90th,
who died of very rapid enteric fever.
The Military situation, although I tried to conceal the fact, affected
my health. I never slept more than two or three hours at a time,
going round the sentries for the next three months at least twice
every night. We shifted camp five times before we finally took up the
position in which the greater part of the Zulu Army attacked us on
the 29th March, and as we constructed slight entrenchments in every
camp, and improved the formation of the encampment so as to obtain the
greatest amount of fire from all sides, the men were kept employed,
and gained valuable experience. We worked on Sundays, saying our
prayers in a practical manner, for I had Divine Service parade on
ground immediately adjoining the spot where two companies were at work
throwing up redoubts, and let the men put down their picks and shovels
and join in the Service, which, during the sixteen months in which I
either read it myself or caused one of the Staff officers to do so,
never kept the men standing more than ten minutes, and I have never
seen soldiers so attentive.
From December 1878 I had Native scouts 20 miles in front of our
Force, and patrols 6 miles out an hour before daylight, but in the
afternoon we amused ourselves, although the early morning was a period
of anxiety. My spies informed me of impending attacks, which were
predicted for each new and full moon, which periods are held by the
Zulus to be auspicious. Mounted men were stationed 6 miles in front by
day, and two companies beyond our cattle at grass. The arrangements for
security during night were peculiar. It rained regularly when the sun
went down, throughout the months of February and March, which added to
our difficulty of ensuring security without impairing the health of
the soldiers. To save them, the outlying pickets were allowed tents
pitched in a circle, 200 yards outside the Laager. Groups of 8 men were
placed 100 yards farther out, 6 lying down under blanket shelters,
while 2 watched and listened. Beyond on the paths most convenient for
the enemy’s approach, under a British officer, were small parties of
Zulus,[173] whose marvellous hearing by night, and sight by day,
enhanced the value of our precautions. After the disaster on the
Intombe these men asked to speak to me, and said: “We want to go home
to our families, for you are going to be attacked by the whole of the
Zulu Army.” “Well, that is just the reason why you should stop with me;
I have been paying you all these months, and you have never yet been
in danger.” “Oh, we are not nervous about ourselves, you are sure to
repulse the attack, but some of the Cetewayo’s men will sweep round in
Raiding parties on both flanks, and kill our women and children, who
are near Luneberg.” “I promise you I will insure your wives and your
cattle if any harm comes to them while you are with me,” on which they
saluted and went back to the kitchen fires quite content.
It is interesting that at some Athletic sports on the 19th February,
in the country pastime of throwing the assegai, the Zulus, who since
Chaka’s time had been taught not to throw long distances, but to rush
on their foe and stab him with the short assegai, were easily beaten,
the first prize being won by a Hottentot about 5 foot in height, who
propelled an assegai 70 yards, the second man being a Colonial born
Englishman, while no Zulu threw an assegai farther than 50 yards.
Our team in the Tug-of-war, which had only been once defeated, was
thoroughly beaten by Piet Uys and his Dutchmen. In 1872, when we were
at Aldershot, I wished the battalion to enter a team for Divisional
Athletic sports. I could get no volunteers, the battalion had never
pulled in a Tug-of-war, and showed no inclination to begin; eventually
I had to appeal to the Sergeant-Major, who practically coerced the
Colour Sergeants into producing one man a company. When I looked at
them, selecting a man who seemed to be about my own size, I said: “I do
not think you will be much good for this job,--I doubt whether you can
pull me over.” “I can do that, sir, and without much trouble.” Taking
up a rope, I told him to try. He gave one look at me, and then pulled
me off my feet; and although I sacrificed my spurs by digging them into
the ground, he took me across the parade ground without any apparent
effort. My judgment was decidedly faulty; although he was not more than
a stone heavier than I was, his arms and back were abnormally powerful.
I was much interested in training the team, which beat in succession
every battalion at Aldershot, the Garrison Artillery at Portsmouth,
every regiment of the Guards, a Brigade team of the Guards, a team from
H.M.S. _Excellent_ at Portsmouth, and a team of the Royal Marines. We
sent it about to different garrisons, and it was never beaten until it
met the 96th Regiment, which had an equally well trained team, each man
being about half a stone heavier in weight, the effect of which was
decisive.
When we were marching up from King William’s Town to Natal, our men
vanquished the Frontier Light Horse, composed of fine men, as they did
when at Utrecht, and again at Kambula Hill, but they could not make
the Dutchmen take their pipes out of their mouths. I said to Piet Uys,
“I do not think your pipe will be alight in a quarter of an hour.” He
laughed, and at the end of the quarter of an hour the laugh was against
me, for the Dutchmen, averaging 14 or 15 stone, with enormous knotted
arms, and hands like iron, waited until the 90th were exhausted, and
then without an effort pulled them over.
In each camp we occupied I made a lawn-tennis ground, playing it, and
polo on alternate afternoons, when I was not out on reconnoitring
expeditions.