1880--H.I.M. THE EMPRESS EUGENIE
Cetewayo in captivity--Boers welcome me in Utrecht--Value of
a Zulu wife--The Inhlobane--Ityatosi--How Cetewayo killed
Masipula--How the Prince Imperial fought 18 Zulus.
While we were at Cape Town I paid Cetewayo two visits, and sat with
him for some time. He expressed great pleasure, and, unless he was
a good actor, felt such at seeing me. He was a man of considerable
tact, for he had taken the trouble to procure a photograph of myself.
He discussed the merits of his chiefs in the course of conversation,
and said it was quite correct that he had ordered Faku to drive the
settlers away from Luneberg. As he put it humorously, “I said they
were to go away lest they should be hurt.” He told me many interesting
stories of my proceedings in Zululand, and mentioned that he was always
nervous lest I should make a raid with the mounted men and carry him
off to Ulundi, thus confirming the information obtained by Sir Bartle
Frere.[208] The ex-monarch asked me for a rug; and so appropriating a
thick handsome one belonging to my wife, I sent it when we got back to
Government House, where the Empress was staying. But Cetewayo returned
it with a message that it was not nearly big enough to cover his body,
and with some difficulty I found one which gave him satisfaction.
We left Maritzburg on Thursday the 29th of April, with waggons, cooks,
servants, waggon drivers, and mules. The party consisting of eighty
persons.
H.I.M. the Empress had proposed, in the first instance, to ride
throughout her journey, but foreseeing that this might be inconvenient
I had purchased a “Spider,” and after our first day’s journey, finding
it too heavy for a pair, in spite of the predictions of the oldest
inhabitants, that it was impossible to drive four horses from such a
low seat, I drove the Empress or one of the other ladies 800 miles
before we re-embarked.
They greatly enjoyed the scenery in the Tugela Valley. The camp was
pitched one day on a slope overlooking a ravine, 150 feet below the
tents. Up to Helpmakaar, the track is carried through a beautiful
though rugged country, and on the 5th May we mounted 650 feet in 5
miles, and descended 1800 feet in the next 5, travelling on an unfenced
road, scarped out of the mountain-side.
When we reached Utrecht the whole of the population turned out to see
me, and from the moment we crossed the Blood River I had a succession
of Black visitors, including 10 men enlisted in October 1878, who had
been attached to Companies of my Battalion, and who had lost wives
killed in the raid made by Umbilini after the battle of Kambula. They
were the men who had thrown their knobkerries in the air when they
learned I was to decide, and pay the amount they claimed for their
wives. In every case the claim was certified by Mr. Rudolph, the
Landdrost, as correct, and I handed over cheques amounting to between
eight and nine hundred pounds, which I told them would be honoured at
Newcastle. They saluted according to their fashion, and walked off
without the slightest doubt of their getting gold for the pieces of
paper tied up in the corner of their blankets.
When the last of them had departed, one man came forward and said,
“Will you do something for me?” “Oh! but you are not one of the men
whose wives I insured?” “No; but I was in Wood’s Regiment, and my wife
was killed.” “When was that?” “In August.” “But then you could not
have gone straight home when I dismissed you in the middle of July
near Kwamagasa?” “No; it is true I stayed for some little time with
relatives in Sirayo’s country, and the raid took place while I was
there.” “That is, you contributed to your own loss?” “Yes; I have no
claim, but perhaps, as my wife was killed, you will do something for
me?” “How long had you had her?” “Five years.” “What did you give
for her?” “Ten cows.”[209] “That is a good deal.” “Well, it was the
current price when I married her.” “Wives will be cheaper now, for
we have killed a good many men, and no women. Had you any children?”
“Two.” “Boys or girls?” “Girls.” “Were they killed?” “No.” “Then they
are worth a calf a piece?” “That is so.” “What sort of value was
your wife?” “Excellent; she could hoe well.” “Well, for the sake of
calculation, if you have had her five years she could not be as good
as she was when you got her, and eight cows was the outside value when
you married her, according to the current rate at this time; so if we
take off one cow for the two girls you have still got, and two cows
for wear and tear, if you get the price of five cows you will be fully
compensated?” “Yes; I shall be perfectly content.” I satisfied myself
that his loss was correctly stated, and then having prize money which
was somewhat of a white elephant to me, I eventually gave him £24, with
which he departed expressing deep gratitude.
While we were encamped on the Blood River the whole of the Uys family
came to see me, as did also Sirayo and his two sons. They accompanied
us to Kambula, and on the 16th the Empress, standing in a little
redoubt on the hill, was able to see not only where Lieutenants Bigge
and Slade had fought their guns in the open for four hours, but also
where the Ngobamakosi Regiment, of which Melokazulu was a mounted
officer, attempted to come out of the ravine, to storm the laager. We
had taken up a tombstone for the graves near the camp, and on the 21st,
in Mrs. Campbell’s presence, I had the tombstone to Ronald Campbell
carried up the Inhlobane by men who were fighting against him when he
lost his life on the 28th of March.
The Empress rode and walked up the eastern end of the mountain where
Colonel Buller ascended and descended by the Devil’s Pass, at the foot
of which he gained his Victoria Cross. The ruggedness and steepness
of the descent may be gathered by the fact that I had all 14 ponies
belonging to the party driven slowly, and allowed to pick their path
down, and the only one which accomplished the descent without a heavy,
fall was my own pony, which I led, and indicated to him where he should
put his feet.
While we were near the Inhlobane I rode many miles to the eastward
and to the north of the mountain searching for the body of my friend
Robert Barton, but was no more successful than were the 25 natives whom
I employed for three weeks for the same purpose. Uhamu came to visit
me at Tinta’s Kraal. He naturally did not tell me, but I learned from
others, that both he and Mnyamane, who were the most powerful chiefs,
were oppressing their lesser brethren. Mnyamane had then taken 400
cattle from Sirayo, and 600 from his people, on the ground that it was
his fault the Zulu dynasty had been destroyed.
We had arranged that the Empress should reach the Ityatosi some days
before the sad anniversary, the death of her only son, June the 1st.
When we arrived there we were troubled by the intrusive action of a
lady correspondent of an American newspaper, who endeavoured with much
persistence to obtain “copy” for her paper. I sent for the head man of
the kraal,--and it is remarkable how the natives trust any Englishman
whom they know,--and after an explanation of the case, he signed a
witnessed deed of a lease of all his land on a radius of 2 miles from
the spot where the Prince fell. We explained the law of trespass, and
after giving the Zulus some blankets they formed a long line, and
clasping hands danced away, showing how they would resist passively the
approach of any one who endeavoured to go on the property.
I have already described, by Chicheeli’s help, how he killed Robert
Barton. We were able to give the remains a Christian burial. When we
arrived at the Ityatosi I sent out for all the men who had been engaged
in the attack on the reconnoitring party when the Prince lost his life,
and while waiting for them to assemble, Lieutenant Bigge and I rode
to the Inhlazatze Mountain, with the double purpose of returning Mr.
Osborne’s call, who had waited on the Empress when she entered Zululand
by crossing the Blood River, and also because I wanted to confer with
him about the lease I had taken of the land around Sobuza’s kraal, the
spot where the Prince was killed. Leaving at 1 a.m. we were able to
spend several hours with Mr. Osborne, and got back in time for dinner,
the ponies doing the 74 miles without any sign of distress.
I had long wanted to know the truth of the story of the death of
Masipula. When we were marching on Ulundi the previous year I was out
in advance of the column reconnoitring and when sitting under a tree
the interpreter said, “The last time I was under this tree I said
good-bye to Masipula, Umpande’s Prime Minister;” and he told me this
story. During the later years of Umpande’s long reign the position in
Zululand was somewhat analogous to that in the days of our Regency,
when George the Third was no longer capable of managing the affairs of
the nation. Masipula felt it his duty to check Cetewayo continually in
his desire of raising more regiments, and when the king died, Cetewayo
delayed until he was crowned by Shepstone, and then sent a message to
Masipula, “The King is dead.” The meaning of this intelligence thus
formally delivered was, “As you were his minister so many years, you
ought to die.” Masipula not accepting the hint, sent back a message
that he greatly regretted Umpande’s death; and Cetewayo waited
patiently for another three months, and finding that Masipula would not
take the hint, sent for him. He told my informant he knew that Cetewayo
would kill him, and the Englishman asked, “Then why go? Ride over the
border into Natal, and live there.” The old chief drawing himself up
proudly, observed, “And do you think that, after being his father’s
minister so long, I would refuse to obey the son’s orders?”
I asked Mr. Osborne, “Can you tell me whether Cetewayo poisoned or
strangled Masipula? for I have heard that he had his beer poisoned, and
another story that, after receiving him, in the evening he sent men
into the kraal assigned to him, and that when the executioners entered,
Masipula placed his head in the noose which was already in the rope.
Tell me if you can, was he poisoned, or strangled?” Mr. Osborne was a
cautious man, and his solitary life among the Zulus perhaps increased
this habit, although within 40 miles of us not any one except Captain
Bigge and our orderlies could speak English, he dropped his voice,
and in a low tone answered me in a monosyllable, “Both”; and added,
the poison not having taken effect as quickly as was expected, the
ex-Prime Minister was strangled.
While we were encamped on the Ityatosi, near Seobuza’s kraal, I had
prolonged interviews with 18 Zulus, whom I examined separately,
and from them obtained a detailed account of the surprise of the
reconnoitring party of the 1st June in the previous year, in which the
Prince Imperial fell, the natives later putting themselves in the exact
positions they held that afternoon. There were between 30 and 36 Zulus
who took part in the attack.
The Patrol having rested on a hill to the north of the river, descended
at three o’clock to Seobuza’s kraal, and the Zulu scouts who were
watching it hastily assembled all the men within reach. These crept
up the bed of the river, and were close at hand concealed in a mealie
field, when a friendly Zulu, who was acting as guide, and was killed a
few minutes later, informed the British officer in command that he had
seen Zulus near, and then it was that the party was ordered to mount.
The Zulus purposely waited until this moment, realising that it would
be the most favourable moment to attack, and fired a volley. The horse
of one of the white escort was shot, and he was immediately assegaied.
That of another soldier fell in an ant-bear hole, and the rider was
stabbed before he could rise. The rest of the party, except the Prince,
galloped hard to the ridge, not drawing rein until they reached some
rocks 820 yards from the kraal, when one of them looked round, and
they then rode away, still fast, but not at the headlong speed at
which they had started. The Zulus in pursuit ran first after the two
white soldiers who were on the flanks, three or four men, headed by
Zabanga, following the Prince. His horse had jumped just as he was
mounting, and his sword fell out of the scabbard. He was very active,
and was vaulting on his horse in motion, when the wallet on the front
of the saddle broke away, and he fell to the ground, being at this time
only 60 yards behind the fugitives. There were seven men who actually
fought the Prince. When Langalabalele, pursuing the fugitives, first
saw Zabanga[210] he was running away from the Prince, who was rushing
at him. Zabanga, crouching in the grass, threw an assegai at him. The
first assegai stuck in the Prince’s thigh, and withdrawing it from the
wound, he kept his foes at bay for some minutes. In the native’s words,
“He fought like a lion; he fired two shots, but without effect, and I
threw an assegai at him, which struck him, as I said at the time, but
I always allowed Zabanga’s claim to have killed him, for his assegai
hit the Prince in the left shoulder, a mortal wound. He fought with
my assegai, and we did not dare to close with him until he sank down
facing us, when we rushed on him.”
On the 1st of July I drove the Empress and Lady Wood from Maritzburg
to the foot of the Inchanga Mountain, where at the terminus of the
railway a train was waiting. The road was engineered down the side of
the mountain, and the Empress liking to travel fast, I let the horses
canter most of the way down. I was always nervous when driving Her
Majesty, and when I handed my wife into the train, I said, “Now my
personal responsibility is over I shall not mind if the train goes
off the line.” We had indeed a narrow escape; when I had assisted the
ladies out of the carriage I handed the reins to a Sergeant of the Army
Service Corps, who was waiting to take the team back. He had gone only
half a mile at a steady trot when the connecting rod which fastens
the forecarriage to the after part of the “Spider” snapped in two. If
this had happened half an hour earlier, when we were cantering down
the mountain road, the Empress and Lady Wood would have had a severe
accident.
After giving a personal report of the journey to Her Majesty, for which
purpose Lady Wood and I received a command to Osborne, I resumed my
work at Chatham.[211]
This gave much interesting occupation, and an opportunity I had long
desired of reducing the number of useless sentries who wasted their
time in many places in the garrison.
The Commissary-General at the War Office corresponded with me at
this period, and later, on the question of my succeeding him, which
he desired. I had been successful in providing food and transport in
1878–79, and now, being anxious for the efficiency of his Department,
in the absence of any specially qualified officer in it, he wished
that I should succeed him. He proposed this to me on several occasions,
once when writing with reference to the confidential reports I had
furnished on officers who had served under me during the Zulu War,
concerning which he wrote: “I take this opportunity of stating, with
reference to the reports you have sent me, that no more faithful or
honest descriptions of officers’ characters have ever reached me.”