1879--KAMBULA, 29TH MARCH
Mist delays the advance of 23,000 Zulus--Piet Uys having
fallen, Burghers leave us--The position under the
Ngaba-ka-Hawane--Bigge--Nicholson--Slade--Buller teases Zulu
Right Wing into a premature attack--I shoot three Zulu leaders
in five successive shots--Hackett’s Counter attack--His
wound--His character--Death of Arthur Bright--I recommend
Buller for the Victoria Cross.
I went round the sentries twice during the night, although I did not
anticipate an attack until daylight, feeling sure the large masses
of Zulus I had seen could not make a combined movement in the dark.
When the night was past, the mist was so thick that we could not see
more than a hundred yards. Captain Maude, who had temporarily replaced
Ronald Campbell, asked me if the wood-cutting party of two companies
was to go out as usual. Our practice was that they should not start
till the front was reported clear for 10 miles, but until the sun came
out there was no chance of the mist clearing off, and after thinking
over the matter I decided the party should go, because we had never
been able to get up reserve of fuel, and it was possible the Zulus
might not attack that day. Our men would certainly fight better in two
or three days’ time if they had cooked food, and so I accepted the
risk, but ordered two subalterns to keep ponies saddled to recall the
companies in good time. Fortunately, though 5 miles away, the place was
behind the camp.
All the mounted men had been continuously in the saddle since daylight
on the 23rd, and it was difficult to get a trot out of the horses;[188]
but Commandant Raaf went out with 20 men to the edge of the Zunguin
plateau, and when the mist lifted, about 10 a.m., reported the Zulu
Army was cooking on the Umvolosi and a tributary stream.[189] He
remained out himself to warn me when they advanced.
All our arrangements in camp were perfected, with the exception of the
barricade, to which we had added some strengthening pieces.
The Dutchmen came to see me early in the day, to say that, as Piet
Uys was dead they wished to go home, and, except half a dozen who had
hired waggons to us, they departed. Great pressure had been brought
on my gallant friend Piet to induce him to withdraw from the column.
His friends told him he was a traitor to their cause, but Uys always
replied that although he disliked our policy, he thought it was the
duty of a White man to stand up with those who were fighting the
Zulus.[190]
Between 80 and 100 of Uhamu’s men, who held on to the cattle they had
driven from the Inhlobane, were overtaken and killed near the Zunguin
Mountain on the 28th, but in the battalion which had gone out with
Colonel Buller there were very few casualties. Nevertheless, Zulu-like
after a reverse, the two battalions of Wood’s Irregulars, about 2000
strong, dispersed.
I spent the forenoon, after saying good-bye to the Uys detachment, in
writing a report on the previous day’s reconnaissance, and letters to
the bereaved relatives of those who had fallen.
At 11 o’clock Raaf reported that the Zulu Army was advancing, and I
sent the officers to recall the wood-cutting parties, and had all the
Trek oxen driven in, except about 200 which had strayed away from the
drivers, whose duty it was to herd them. We got the two companies back
in time for the men to have a hasty dinner before the attack actually
began. The commanding officers asked if the battalions might not be
told to hurry their dinners, but I said, “No; there is plenty of time,”
for by the system enforced in the column during daylight, as Lord
Chelmsford saw five weeks later, our tents could be struck, and the
men be in position in the laager, within seventy seconds from the last
sound of the “Alert.”
At 1.30 p.m. Colonel Buller suggested he should go out and harry the
Zulus into a premature attack, and this he did admirably.
We had shifted camp several times for sanitary reasons. My friends
the Dutchmen could never be persuaded to use the latrines, although I
had one dug specially for them; moreover, Wood’s Irregulars and the
oxen had so fouled the ground as to induce fever, unless the camp was
often shifted. The position in which we received the attack was on a
ridge running in a south-westerly direction, an under feature of the
Ngaba-ka-Hwane Mountain.
The waggons of the 13th Light Infantry formed the right front and
flank, 4 guns were in front of the centre, and the 90th Light Infantry
on the left. The Horse Lines were in the middle, and the rear face of
the Laager was held by the Irregular Horse; 280 yards in front, on
ground 20 feet higher than the Laager, was a redoubt, its main lines of
fire being in a northerly and southerly direction, while 150 yards to
the right front of the main Laager was a cattle Laager, into which we
crammed upwards of 2000 oxen. The outer side of it stood on the edge of
a deep ravine, into which the Laager drained. The wheels of the waggons
were securely chained together, and the space between the forepart of
one and the rear of the other was rendered difficult of ingress by the
poles (or dyssel-booms), being lashed across the intervals.
Two guns under Lieutenant Nicholson were placed _en barbette_,[191]
at the front end of the Redoubt. The other four guns came into action
under Lieutenant A. Bigge[192] and Lieutenant Slade,[193] by sections
on the ridge, connecting the Redoubt with the main Laager. The men
belonged to Garrison Companies, but I have never known a battery so
exceptionally fortunate in its Subalterns. Lieutenant Nicholson,
standing on the gun platform, fought his guns with the unmoved stoical
courage habitual to his nature.
Major Tremlett was renowned as a fearless sportsman, and both Bigge and
Slade were unsurpassable; they with their gunners stood up in the open
from 1.30 p.m. till the Zulus retreated at 5.30 p.m., and by utilising
the ridge were enabled to find excellent targets with cover during the
first attack on the southern slope, and later on the northern slope,
and suffered but little loss.
The direction of the Zulu advance was, speaking generally, from
south-east, but when they came in sight they stretched over the
horizon from north-east to south-west, covering all approaches from
the Inhlobane to Bemba’s Kop. When still 3 miles distant, 5000 men
moved round to our Left and attacked the side held by the 90th Light
Infantry, prior to the remainder of the Zulu Army coming into action.
This fortunate circumstance was due to Colonel Buller’s skilful
tactical handling of the mounted men, whom he took out and dismounted
half a mile from the Zulus. The Umbonambi regiment suffered a galling
fire for some time, and then, losing patience, rushed forward to
attack, when the horsemen, remounting, retired 400 yards, and,
repeating their tactics, eventually brought on a determined attack from
the Zulu right flank. The Umbonambi followed up the horsemen until
they were within 300 yards of the Laager, when their further advance
was checked by the accurate firing of the 90th Light Infantry, greatly
assisted by the enfilading fire poured in from the northern face of the
Redoubt. I saw a fine tall Chief running on well in front of his men,
until, hit in the leg, he fell to the ground. Two men endeavoured to
help him back as he limped on one foot. One was immediately shot, but
was replaced by another, and eventually all three were killed.
We now sent the Artillery horses back into the Laager, keeping the guns
in the open, on the ridge between the Redoubt and the main Laager. I
had instructed the officer commanding to serve his guns till the last
moment, and then, if necessary, leaving them in the open, take his men
back to the Laager, which was within 188 yards.
The attack on our Left had so slackened as to give me no further
anxiety, when at 2.15 p.m. heavy masses attacked our Right Front and
Right Rear, having passed under cover up the deep ravine, on the edge
of which the cattle Laager stood.
Some 40 Zulus, using Martini-Henry rifles which they had taken at
Isandwhlana, occupied ground between the edge of the ravine and the
rear of the Laager, from the fire of which they were partly covered by
the refuse from the Horse Lines which had been there deposited, for,
with the extraordinary fertility of South Africa, induced by copious
rains and burning midday sun, a patch of mealies 4 feet high afforded
cover to men lying down, and it was from thence that our serious losses
occurred somewhat later. The Zulu fire induced me to withdraw a company
of the 13th, posted at the right rear of the cattle Laager, although
the front was held by another half company for some time longer.
I could see from where I stood on the ridge of land just outside the
fort, leaning against the barricade, which reached down to the cattle
Laager, that there were large bodies in the ravine, the Ngobamakosi
in front, and 30 men (leaders) showed over the edge, endeavouring
to encourage the Regiment to leave the shelter, and charge. I, in
consequence, sent Captain Maude to order out two companies of the 90th,
under Major Hackett, with instructions to double over the slope down to
the ravine with fixed bayonets, and to fall back at once when they had
driven the Zulus below the crest.
A 13th man coming away late from the cattle Laager, not having heard
the order to retire, was shot by the Zulus lying in the refuse heap,
and followed by four from the cattle Laager. I was running out to pick
him up, when Captain Maude exclaimed, “Really it isn’t your place to
pick up single men,” and went out himself, followed by Lieutenants
Lysons and Smith, 90th Light Infantry; they were bringing the man in,
who was shot in the leg, when, as they were raising the stretcher,
Smith was shot through the arm. I was firing at the time at a leader of
the Ngobamakosi, who, with a red flag, was urging his comrades to come
up out of the ravine, and assault the Laager. Private Fowler, one of
my personal escort, who was lying in the ditch of the fort, had asked
me, “Would you kindly take a shot at that Chief, sir? it’s a quarter
of an hour I am shooting him, and cannot hit him at all.” He handed me
his Swinburne-Henry carbine, and looking at the sight, which was at 250
yards, I threw the rifle into my shoulder, and as I pressed it into the
hollow, the barrel being very hot, I pulled the trigger before I was
ready,--indeed, as I was bringing up the muzzle from the Zulu’s feet.
Hit in the pit of the stomach, he fell over backwards: another leader
at once took his place, cheering his comrades on. At him I was obliged
to fire, unpleasantly close to the line of our officers leading the
counter attack. I saw the bullet strike some few yards over the man’s
shoulder, and, laying the carbine next time at the Zulu’s feet, the
bullet struck him on the breastbone. As he reeled lifeless backward,
another leader seized and waved the flag, but he knelt only, though
he continued to cheer. The fourth shot struck the ground just over
his shoulder, and then, thinking the carbine was over-sighted,[194] I
aimed on the ground 2 yards short, and the fifth bullet struck him on
the chest in the same place as his predecessor had been hit. This and
the counter attack so damped the ardour of the leaders that no further
attempt was made in that direction, although several brave charges were
made to the south of the cattle Laager, against the right flank of the
Redoubt. While I was firing at the leaders of the Ngobamakosi Regiment,
who, from the ground falling away towards the ravine, were out of sight
of the main Laager, the two companies 90th Light Infantry came out at
a steady “Double,” Major Hackett leading, guided by Captain Woodgate,
who knew exactly where I wished the companies to go, and how far the
offensive movement was to be carried out. Lieutenant Strong, who had
recently joined us, ran well in front of his company, sword in hand,
and the Zulus retired into the ravine. The companies, however, were
fired on heavily from the refuse heaps, at 350 yards range, and Major
Hackett was shot through the head; Arthur Bright fell mortally wounded,
and the Colour-Sergeant of Bright’s company, Allen, a clever young
man, not twenty-three years of age, who had been wounded in the first
attack, and, having had his arm dressed, rejoined his company as it
charged, was killed.
The Umcityu and Unkandampenvu had charged so determinedly over the
open on our Left front, as had part of the Ngobamakosi up the slope
to the Redoubt, from the south side of the cattle Laager, that I did
not at first realise the full effect of Hackett’s counter attack, and
apprehended the mass still crouching below the crest would rush the
Right face of the Laager. They would have had some 200 yards to pass
over from the edge of the ravine to the waggons, but, owing to the
ground falling rapidly, would have been under fire from the Laager
for 100 yards only. I therefore went into the main Laager, being met
by Colonel Buller, who asked me cheerily for what I had come, and
I replied, “Because I think you are just going to have a rough and
tumble”; but Hackett’s charge had done even more than I had hoped, and
having looked round I went back to my position just outside the fort.
At 5.30 p.m., when the vigour of the attack was lessening, I sent
Captain Thurlow and Waddy’s companies of the 13th Light Infantry to
the right rear of the cattle Laager, to turn out some Zulus who were
amongst the oxen, which they had, however, been unable to remove; and I
took Captain Laye’s[195] company to the edge of the krantz on the right
front of the Laager, where they did great execution with the bayonet
amongst the Undi Regiment, who were now falling back. I then sent a
note to Buller, asking him to take out the mounted men, which he did,
pursuing from 5.30 p.m. till dark, and killing, as it happened, chiefly
the Makulusi tribe, who had been his foes on the previous day.
When the enemy fell back in the direction in which they had come, they
were so thick as to blot out all signs of grass on the hillside, which
was covered by their black bodies, and for perhaps the only time in
anyone’s experience it was sound to say, “Don’t wait to aim, fire into
the black of them.”
At 3 a.m. on the 30th, one or two shots from the Outpost line roused
the camp, and the Colonial corps opened a rapid fire to the Front,
immediately over the heads of the two line battalions and artillery,
who stood perfectly steady. Rain was falling, so, while Maude was
ascertaining the cause of the firing, which was a Zulu who, having
concealed himself till then, jumped up close to one of our sentries,
I sat in an ambulance near the battery until the Colonials having put
three bullets into the top of it, I thought it would be better to get
wet than be shot by our own men. After five minutes the firing was
stopped. The scare was excusable, for the nerves of the mounted men had
been highly strung for some hours, a fourth of those who had ridden up
the Inhlobane having been killed.
In the next few days we buried 785 men within 300 yards of our Laager,
which we were afterwards obliged to shift on account of the number of
bodies which lay unseen in the hollows. We learnt after the battle that
when the Zulus saw our tents go down they thought it was in preparation
for flight, and that unsteadied their Right Wing.[196] They never
fought again with the same vigour and determination.
The Line battalions were very steady, expending in four hours on an
average 33 rounds a man; though that evening I heard that some of them
had thought the possibility of resisting such overwhelming numbers
of brave savages, 13 or 14 to one man, was more than doubtful. I had
no doubt, and lost all sense of personal danger, except momentarily,
when, as on five occasions, a plank of the hoarding on which I leant
was struck. This jarred my head, and reminded me that the Zulus firing
from the refuse heap in the right rear of the Laager were fair shots. A
few had been employed as hunters, and understood the use of the Martini
rifles taken at Isandwhana.
Besides the men killed, we had 70 wounded, and amongst them my friend
Robert Hackett. Born in King’s County, Ireland, he was one of several
soldier brothers. He was decidedly old-fashioned, and I have now before
me an indignant letter, written four years before his terrible wound,
urging me to use my influence to stop what he regarded as the craze for
examining officers like himself, nearly forty years of age. He pointed
out the injustice of expecting old dogs to learn these new tricks, and
argued that as he had bought his commission without any liability to be
examined for promotion, it was unjust to exact any such test from him
now; and added that, as no Staff appointment would tempt him to leave
the battalion, and it was generally admitted that he was efficient in
all Regimental duties, all he wanted was to be left alone, and not
troubled with books.
He was, indeed, a good Regimental officer; he managed the Mess,
the Canteen, and the Sports club, and, indeed, was a pillar of the
regiment. He kept a horse, but seldom, or never, rode, putting it
generally at the disposal of the subaltern of his company. He played
no games, and lived for nothing but the welfare of the men of his
Company, and the reputation of the Regiment.
At Aldershot, in 1873, he gave me a lesson which I have never
forgotten. I was senior Major, being in temporary command of the
Regiment, and spoke to him about three young officers who did not pay
their mess bills when due, and when the delay recurred the third time,
I said, “Unless these bills are paid to-morrow morning, you will put
the three officers under arrest.” The Commanding Officer being away,
I was in the Orderly-room when he reported, “The bills you spoke of
have been paid, sir.” “You see,” I remarked, “it only required a
little firmness on our part to get the Queen’s Regulations obeyed.”
He saluted, but said nothing, and when I saw him in the afternoon I
said, “Hackett, I do not quite understand your reticence. Why don’t you
help me in making these young officers pay their bills by the proper
time? Why do they delay?” “Oh, it’s not wilful, sir,” he replied--“only
impecuniosity.” “Oh, that can’t be the case,” I argued, “because when
they had to pay, they paid.” He only answered “Yes”; but something
in his tone made me say, “If you are right, can you explain how they
got the money at such short notice?” “That’s quite simple, sir,” he
answered; “I paid the bills myself.” After this I thought less of the
effect of my firmness!
When I visited him in the Hospital the morning after the action, he was
a piteous sight, for a bullet had passed from one temple to another,
and, without actually hitting the eyes, had protruded the eyeballs,
injuring the brain. He was unconscious of the terrible nature of his
wounds, possibly from pressure on the brain, and observed to me, “Your
Commissariat officers are very stingy in not lighting up this Hospital
tent; the place is in absolute darkness.” We were all so fond of him
that nobody ventured to tell him the truth, and it was not until he
was in Maritzburg that the doctors begged a lady, who was a constant
visitor at the Hospital, to break the news to him.
When we received, on the 4th January 1879, the Gazette of the
Promotions and Honours for the suppression of the Gaika outbreak, I
addressed the Military Secretary as follows: “Lord Chelmsford writes
to me a kind letter about the omission of my name when honours were
being served out, but I am not likely to trouble you on my own account,
especially as one Commanding Officer rewarded has never been within
500 miles of bloodshed, but I confess Brevet Major Hackett might
have attracted your, or His Royal Highness’, favourable eye. A man
of long service, old enough to be father of the junior Captains, he
has, I believe, been for many years the bed-rock of the 90th Light
Infantry. An excellent Regimental officer, ever ready to counsel or aid
those of his brothers whose follies, or scanty purses, brought them
into trouble. He has successfully neutralised the bad points of two
Commanding Officers.”
When in the Hospital at the close of the action, I did not speak to
Arthur Bright, who was dozing, but after we had had something to eat
I sent Maude over to see how he was going on. Maude came back saying
that he was sensible, but very depressed, although the doctors said a
bullet which had passed through his thigh had not touched any artery or
bone. The two doctors had more than they could do, and may therefore be
readily excused for not having noticed that the other thigh bone had
been shattered; and Bright died, happily without pain, before morning.
Over six feet in height, and very handsome, he exercised, through his
high moral tone, great influence amongst the subalterns. He had been
captain of a boat at Eton, was our boldest and best Polo player, and
was a gifted draughtsman, possessing also a beautiful tenor voice. He
had only fifteen months’ service when he took command of the company
of which Maude was the Captain. This company had been unfortunate, for
Stevens, its Captain, was dangerously wounded on the 30th April 1878,
when Saltmarshe was killed; and now, in one day it had lost its only
duty officer, Bright, and the gallant Colour-Sergeant Allen.
For two or three days after our victory I had some anxiety on account
of our convoy of wounded men, which Buller escorted to the Blood River.
My battalion was unfortunate, for, in addition to the two officers of
the 90th whom we buried, we sent away three wounded in the convoy. I
was obliged to keep Maude to help me, in spite of his company being
without an officer.
Lieutenant Smith, whose arm was badly hit, was invalided to England.
After seeing his family, he went to stay with Lady Wood, and, while he
was giving his account of the fight in the drawing-room, his soldier
servant was telling my wife’s servants about it in the kitchen; and,
alluding to the time when I walked across the open to the Laager, he
said, “We saw three Zulus following him, and we knew he couldn’t hear
’em, so we turned our faces away that we might not see him assegaied!”
“Ah,” the cook said, with deep emotion, “that would have been a sad day
for his wife and children!” when the soldier observed cheerfully, “Oh,
we weren’t thinking of them, or of him either, for the matter of that,
but what would have become of _us_ if ’e’d been killed?”
I heard from Lord Chelmsford, who said he observed in my official
report of my attack on the Inhlobane that I had made no reference to
his having induced it; and, while thanking him for his generosity,
I replied that I considered I was bound to help him, and that the
operation I undertook was, moreover, feasible, and would have been
carried out without any serious loss except for the coincidence of the
approach of the Zulu main army.
_30th March._--Although nearly all of Wood’s Irregulars had deserted
the previous evening, we still had the Zulus attached to the companies,
as well as the drivers and foreloupers of the waggons, and, knowing it
was hopeless to expect them to bring in, without reward, any Zulus as
prisoners, I made it known I would give a “stick” of tobacco for any
wounded or unwounded Zulu who was brought into camp. During the fight
it was difficult to spare wounded Zulus who could sit up, for, when I
took out a company from the Redoubt for a counter attack at 5.30, an
officer shouted, “Look out for that wounded Zulu behind you.” He fired
immediately, killing a soldier who followed me. When all resistance was
over, I was anxious, not only for the sake of humanity, but in order to
make an accurate report, to ascertain what regiments had attacked us.
So I instructed our men to bring me, if possible, a representative of
every Zulu regiment engaged.
Next morning, 15 or 20 grand specimens of savage humanity stood in
front of me, while the interpreter took down their names and the names
of the officers commanding the regiment to which they belonged, and we
learnt that the Zulu army had numbered over 23,000 men. When I had
obtained all the information I required, I said, “Before Isandwhlana,
we treated all your wounded men in our Hospital, but when you attacked
our camp, your brethren, our black patients, rose and helped to kill
those who had been attending on them. Can any of you advance any reason
why I should not kill you?” One of the younger men, with an intelligent
face, asked, “May I speak?” “Yes.” “There is a very good reason why you
should not kill us. We kill you because it is the custom of the Black
men, but it isn’t the White men’s custom!” So, putting them in charge
of an officer and a couple of Colonel Buller’s men, I had them sent
safely past our Outposts, as far as the Zunguin mountain.
We got in a considerable number of wounded Zulus, and as our Hospital
establishment was not capable of dealing with our own cases, I was
obliged to hand them over to their countrymen attached to the companies
of infantry; and to ensure the wounded men being well treated, I
promised our Zulus an ox to eat at the end of the week. There was,
however, but little animosity when once the fight was over, because all
the border Zulus were so intermarried that we had cases of men fighting
in Cetewayo’s regiments against brothers in Wood’s Irregulars.
It is not often that the narratives of victors and vanquished agree, so
it is interesting to note that the Governor of Natal, in reporting to
the High Commissioner on the 21st April, wrote:
“The whole of the Zulu border population have returned to their homes.
In conversation with our Natives, they give accounts of the two days’
fighting with Colonel Wood, which agree with the published accounts in
every respect. The Zulu losses on the first day are stated to have been
severe. The Europeans who fell selling their lives dearly.”
I had heard many stories of the gallantry shown by Colonel Buller in
the retreat from the western end of the Inhlobane, but I had some
difficulty in arriving at anything definite, because he guarded closely
all the mounted men from receiving orders except through him, and I
knew from his character that he would repudiate the notion of having
done anything more than his duty.
[Illustration: Sketch of the Camp of No. 4 Column
KAMBULA HILL
_ZULULAND_
ATTACKED By ZULU ARMY 29th MARCH 1879]
A few days after the fight he went out with a troop of the Frontier
Light Horse to endeavour to find Captain Barton’s body, but could not
reach the spot, as he was opposed by Zulus in force, making a raid in
the direction of Luneberg, carrying off cattle, and killing men, women,
and children. While he was out I received written statements from
Lieutenants D’Arcy and Everitt and trooper Rundall, whom he had rescued
at the risk of his life, and their reports were verified by those
of other officers who were present. This enabled me to put forward
a strong recommendation that his name should be considered for the
Victoria Cross. A day or two later, on his return from another raid,
in which he had been unsuccessful, I said, as he was leaving the tent
after making his report, “I think you may be interested in something I
have written,” and I handed him the letter-book. He was very tired, and
observed somewhat ungraciously, “Some nonsense, I suppose!” to which I
replied, “Yes, I think I have been rather eulogistic.” When he handed
me back the book his face was a study.