ISANDHLWANA.
Having crossed into Zululand, the “difficulties ... in the way of
those who are endeavouring to move forward into an enemy’s country,
over tracts which have never been traversed, except by a very few
traders’ waggons,”[121] began to declare themselves; and Lord
Chelmsford remarks, January 16th: “No. 3 Column at Rorke’s Drift
cannot possibly move forward even eight miles until two swamps, into
which our waggons sank up to the body, have been made passable. This
work will occupy us for at least four days, and we shall find similar
obstacles in front of us in every march we are anxious to make.”
We find Lord Chelmsford, on January 27th, stating: “The country is
far more difficult than I had been led to expect, and the labour of
advancing with a long train of waggons is enormous. It took seven
days hard work, by one half of No. 3 Column, to make the ten miles
of road between Rorke’s Drift and Insalwana Hill practicable, and
even then had it rained hard I feel sure that the convoy could not
have gone on. The line of communication is very much exposed, and
would require a party of mounted men always patrolling, and fixed
intrenched posts of infantry at intervals of about ten miles.”—(P.
P.—C. 2252).
Under these circumstances we can only wonder that the advance with
cumbersome trains of waggons was undertaken, and the apparent want of
knowledge of the invaded country is almost equally surprising. All
previous experience goes to prove that a general moving in an enemy’s
country _with_ his “impedimenta” should form a defensible camp at
every halt; and this Lord Chelmsford apparently recognised when he
promulgated the “Regulations for Field Forces in South Africa;” but
we shall find how fatally he neglected the most ordinary precautions.
A hint for the advance might well have been taken from Sir Garnet
Wolseley’s campaign in Ashantee, and the various columns moved on
Ulundi—about eighty miles—in the lightest possible order, and without
a ponderous waggon-train. Rapid movement was the more imperatively
necessary, the enemy being in force, and able to make most rapid
concentrations. Guns (7-pounders) could have been moved over very
difficult ground with comparative ease, and even carried along
piecemeal if necessary.
The strangeness of the situation is shown plainly in Lord
Chelmsford’s despatch of the 16th January, written at Rorke’s
Drift—on the very borders of Zululand—at the very outset of the
war. Having spoken of “difficulties” (as already quoted), he says:
“Accepting the situation, therefore, it remains for me to determine
what modification of the plan of campaign at first laid down will
be necessary.” His idea still is to drive, “as far as possible, all
the Zulus forward towards the north-east part of their country,” and
“with Nos. 1, 2, and 3 Columns, to thoroughly clear or subjugate
the country ... by means of expeditions made by those columns from
certain fixed positions,” and this, he hopes, will “have the effect
of removing any dangerously large body from the Natal borders.”
Colonel Wood, with No. 4 Column, to act independently. “By these
movements,” he continues, “I hope to be able to clear that portion
of Zululand which is situated south of the Umhlatoosi River;” and
remarks that Cetshwayo will be obliged “to keep his army mobilised,
and it is certain that his troops will have difficulty in finding
sufficient food. If kept inactive, they will become dangerous to
himself; if ordered to attack us, they will be playing our game.”
How these plans answered, one week sufficed to show.
The first step in advance from Rorke’s Drift was to push forward
four companies of the 2-24th Regiment, a battalion of Natal Native
Contingent, and a detachment of Natal Native Pioneers into the Bashi
Valley on the 14th January, for the purpose of repairing the road.
This detachment remained encamped there until the 20th, five miles
from the remainder of the column at Rorke’s Drift, and with no
attempt at “laager” or other defence, Lord Chelmsford did not see the
need of precaution, and his instructions to the officer in command
were, “Use the bayonet” if a night attack took place.
On the 17th the General made a reconnaissance as far as Isandhlwana;
and on January 20th No. 3 Column moved from Rorke’s Drift and Bashi
Valley, to the spot selected for the camp to the east of Isandhlwana
Hill. The post at Rorke’s Drift (where the Buffalo was crossed)—of
vital importance to the safety of the column—was left with a
garrison of one company of 1-24th Regiment, but without any attempt
whatever at entrenchment: nor were any defensive precautions taken
at Helpmakaar, the store depôt in Natal, twelve miles from Rorke’s
Drift. The march to Isandhlwana was accomplished “without much
difficulty,” but “half a battalion 2-24th was obliged to halt short
of this camp owing to the oxen being fatigued.” They bivouacked for
the night in the open.
The position of the camp is thus described: “At the spot where our
road crossed ... we had a small kopje on the right, and then about
fifty yards to our left rises abruptly the Isandhlwana Mountain ...
entirely unapproachable from the three sides nearest us, but on the
farther, viz. that to the north, it slopes more gradually down, and
it is there connected with the large range of hills on our left with
another broad neck of land. We just crossed over the bend, then
turned sharp to the left, and placed our camp facing the valley, with
the eastern precipitous side of the mountain behind us, leaving about
a mile of open country between our left flank and the hills on our
left, the right of the camp extending across the neck of land we had
just come over, and resting on the base of the small kopje described
beforehand.”
The camp was formed in the following order from left to right: 2-3rd
Natal Native Contingent, 1-3rd Natal Native Contingent, 2-24th
Regiment, Royal Artillery, mounted troops, and 1-24th Regiment. “The
waggons were all placed between the camp and the hill at the back,
and behind them, immediately against its base, the head-quarters’
tents were pitched with their waggons beside them.”... “Not a single
step was taken in any way to defend our new position in case of a
night or day attack from the enemy.”[122]
On the same day (20th) the General reconnoitred on the “waggon-track,
which skirts Inhlazatye Mountain, as far as a place called Matyana’s
Stronghold,” at a distance of about twelve miles, but saw nothing of
the enemy. “Not having time to properly examine the country round
this peculiar stronghold,” the General ordered that next day two
separate parties should move out from the camp at an early hour; one
of mounted men under Major Dartnell to reconnoitre on the road he had
taken, whilst two battalions of Native Contingent under Commandant
Lonsdale worked round the Malakata Mountain: the orders being that
these officers were to effect a communication on the Inhlazatye
range, and then return to camp.—(P. P. [C. 2252] pp. 74, 75).
At about ten o’clock the Zulus were found in force by the mounted
men; the contingent being on a range of hills distant about five
miles. The enemy appeared anxious to fight, but Major Dartnell did
not think it prudent to engage without supports. The Zulus occupied
a large kloof, and whenever the mounted men approached they came out
in large numbers. A small body were sent up close, under Mr. Mansel,
to try and make the Zulus show their force, when they advanced
throwing out the “horns,” and tried to surround the party, following
them down into the open, where Major Dartnell and the remainder
of the mounted troops were. The whole then retired and joined the
contingent, about three miles from the kloof.
In the evening, says Major Clery, “a message arrived from
Major Dartnell that the enemy was in considerable force in his
neighbourhood, and that he and Commandant Lonsdale would bivouac out
the night,” which they were permitted to do.[123]
The wisdom of this may be doubted, as the Native Contingent seemed
particularly liable to alarm; twice they “were seized with panic,
rushing about everywhere, the night being very dark. They knocked
us down,” writes an officer, “and stampeded our horses, causing the
greatest confusion. If the Zulus had come on we should all have been
cut to pieces.”
“That night Major Dartnell sent off messengers to Lord Chelmsford
that he had marked the Zulus down in a kloof, and asked for two
companies of infantry to be sent out as a support, and that he would
attack the Zulus in the morning.”
Major Clery says:[124] “About 1.30 A.M. on the 22nd, a messenger
brought me a note from Major Dartnell to say that the enemy was
in greater numbers than when he last reported, and that he did
not think it prudent to attack unless reinforced by two or three
companies of the 24th Regiment. The General ordered the 2nd
Battalion 24th Regiment, the Mounted Infantry, and four guns, to
be under arms at once to march.” The Natal Native Pioneers, about
50 strong, accompanied the force, which “marched out from the camp
as soon as there was light enough to see the road.” Lieut.-Colonel
Pulleine, 1-24th Regiment, was instructed to take “command of the
camp during the absence of Colonel Glyn”—the force left with him
consisting of 5 companies 1-24th and 1 company 2-24th Regiment; 2
guns Royal Artillery; about 20 Mounted Infantry and Volunteers; 30
Natal Carbineers, 31 Mounted Police, and 4 companies Natal Native
Contingent. An order was also despatched to Colonel Durnford (at
Rorke’s Drift) to move up to Isandhlwana. Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine’s
instructions for the defence of the camp were, briefly, to draw
in his “line of defence” and “infantry outposts,” but to keep his
cavalry vedettes “still far advanced.”[125] We may here note that
the only country searched was that direct to the front and right
front—the direction of the waggon-track—although it is stated “the
Lieut.-General had himself noticed mounted men in one direction (our
left front) on the 21st, and in this direction he had _intended_ to
make a reconnaissance.” (P. P. [C. 2260] p. 99).
After the departure of the advance column nothing unusual occurred in
camp until between seven and eight o’clock, when it was reported from
the advanced picquet (on the Ingqutu range of hills, about 1500 yards
to the north) that a body of the enemy could be seen approaching
from the north-east: and various small bodies were afterwards seen.
Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine got his men under arms, and sent a written
message off to head-quarters that a Zulu force had appeared on the
hills on his left front. This was received “between 9.30 and 10 A.M.”
Colonel Durnford received the General’s order when on an expedition
into Natal to obtain waggons, but at once returned to Rorke’s Drift,
and marched for Isandhlwana. Lieutenant Chard, R.E., who had ridden
to camp for orders, “met Colonel Durnford about a quarter of a mile
from the camp at the head of his mounted men” about 10.30 A.M.,
and told him the troops were in column outside the camp, and Zulus
showing “on the crest of the distant hills,” “several parties”
working round so far to the left that he “was afraid they might be
going to make a dash at the Drift.” He took orders to Major Russell
to hurry up with the rocket battery, to detach a company of Sikali
men to protect the baggage, and for all to “look out to the left.”
Colonel Durnford reached the camp, and received all the information
Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine could afford, finding the situation to
be:—Lonsdale’s natives on outpost duty on the hills to the left, the
guns in position on the left of the camp, and the infantry under
arms. The oxen were driven into camp and—Mr. Brickhill says—tied to
the yokes, but not inspanned. Constant reports were coming in from
the hills to the left—“The enemy are in force behind the hills.”
“The enemy are in three columns.” “One column is moving to the left
rear, and one towards the General.” “The enemy are retiring in every
direction.” The enemy’s force was given at 400 to 600.
On hearing these reports, Colonel Durnford sent one troop Natal
Native Horse to reinforce his baggage guard; two troops to the hills
to the left (under Captains G. Shepstone and Barton)—one to move
along the crest of the range, one to search the valley beyond—and
determined himself to go out to the front “and prevent the one column
joining the ‘impi,’ which was supposed at that time to be engaged
with the troops under the General;” he asked Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine
for two companies of the 24th, to which Colonel Pulleine replied,
“that two companies could ill be spared, but that if Colonel Durnford
ordered them, of course they should go.” On consideration, Colonel
Durnford decided only to take his own men,[126] and moved out with
his remaining two troops Natal Native Horse, followed by Major
Russell’s rocket battery, with its escort of a company of Native
Contingent, under Captain Nourse.
A company 1-24th, under Lieutenant Cavaye, was sent out as a picquet
to the hills about 1200 yards north of the camp, and the remainder of
the troops dismissed to their private parades, where the men were to
lie down in readiness to turn out if required. At this time there
was no expectation of an attack during the day, and no idea had been
formed regarding the probable strength of the enemy.[127]
The two troops sent on the hills to the left “to ascertain the
enemy’s movements,” had proceeded “about five miles from the camp,”
when “the Zulu army came forward, advancing straight on towards the
camp.” Captain Shepstone ordered a retreat on the camp, and himself
rode in with the warning that the “whole Zulu army was advancing to
attack it.”[128] Captain Shepstone met Captain Gardner on reaching
the camp, and both officers then went to Colonel Pulleine, but, says
Captain Gardner, the enemy were “already on the hill on our left in
large numbers.”
Colonel Durnford, having despatched his two troops to the left, had
moved out to the front at a canter, followed at a foot’s pace by
the rocket battery, etc. About five miles out, a trooper rode down
from the hills on the left, and reported an immense “impi” behind
the hills, and almost immediately the Zulus appeared in force in
front and on the left, in skirmishing order, ten or twelve deep,
with supports close behind. They opened fire at about 800 yards, and
advanced very rapidly. Colonel Durnford retired a little way—to a
donga—and extended his men, then fell back, keeping up a steady fire,
for about two miles,[129] when he came upon the remains of the rocket
battery, which (it appeared) had turned to the left on hearing firing
on the hills, been cut off, and broken up. Fighting was still going
on here, but the Zulus were speedily driven back.
Colonel Durnford retired slowly on the camp, disputing every yard
of ground, until he reached a donga about 800 yards in front of the
right of the camp; there, prolonging the line of the camp troops, and
the right being reinforced by between thirty and forty mounted men,
under Captain Bradstreet, a stand was made.
“This gully,” Mr. Brickhill, interpreter to No. 3 Column, says, “the
mounted force held most tenaciously, every shot appearing to take
effect,” and with the havoc caused by the guns, “a thousand Zulu dead
must have laid between the conical hill and the gully. They lay just
like peppercorns upon the plain.”
The two troops of native horse sent to reconnoitre the Ingqutu Hills,
retired fighting before the enemy in good order “to a crest in the
neck which joins Sandhlwana to Ingqutu. Leaving their horses well
sheltered here, they held this crest splendidly, keeping up a steady
galling fire.”[130] They were eventually compelled to retire, with
the loss of Captain G. Shepstone.[131]
We must now consider what had taken place at the camp. All was quiet
till about twelve o’clock, when firing was heard on the hill where
the company on picquet was stationed; the troops were immediately
turned out and formed on the left front of the camp. About this
time Captain Gardner, 14th Hussars, arrived with an order from
the General, addressed to Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine, “to send on
the camp equipage and supplies of the troops camping out, and to
remain himself at his present camp and entrench it.”[132] Captain
G. Shepstone reached the camp with his warning about the same time.
Colonel Pulleine decided it was impossible to carry out the General’s
order, as the enemy were already in great force on the hills to the
left. Captain Gardner sent off a message to head-quarters, saying
that “our left was attacked by about ten thousand of the enemy. A
message was also sent by Colonel Pulleine.”
One company (Captain Mostyn’s) was moved up to support the picquet;
the enemy distant about 800 yards, moving “towards our left.” Orders
to retire were received almost immediately, and the whole retired to
the foot of the slope, the enemy rushing forward to the crest of the
hill as our men disappeared. Captain Younghusband’s company was at
this time in echelon on the left.[133]
The guns came into action about 400 yards on the left front of the
camp, “where they were able to throw shells into a large mass of the
enemy that remained almost stationary about 3400 yards off.”[134]
The three advanced companies of the 24th retired on the main body,
when the situation was this: The two guns and the whole of the
24th in line, about 300 yards from the left front of the camp; the
natives took post on the right of the 24th; then came Durnford’s
Basutos; and the extreme right was formed by about forty mounted
Europeans[135]—the force holding the only position that afforded
any shelter, viz. broken ground and a “donga” in front of the camp;
the infantry “in good position among the stones and boulders to the
left and left centre of the camp, and who stood their ground most
gallantly.”[136] The enemy approached to within about 400 yards, the
two guns firing case. The heavy fire from the line told so upon the
Zulus that they wavered and lay down; they are said to have covered
the valley in detached groups to the depth of about three-quarters of
a mile.[137]
The enemy now began to work round the rear (which they could do with
impunity owing to the formation of the ground), and Captain Essex
says: “I rode up to Lieut.-Colonel Durnford, who was near the right,
and pointed this out to him. He requested me to take men to that part
of the field, and endeavour to hold the enemy in check;” but at this
moment, he says, “those of the Native Contingent who had remained in
action, rushed past us in the utmost disorder, thus laying open the
right and rear of the 24th, the enemy dashing forward in the most
rapid manner.” The ammunition of the mounted troops failing (supplies
had been repeatedly sent for, but none came), Colonel Durnford
retired them towards the right of the camp (where the waggons and
ammunition of the Native Horse were), and himself galloped off to
the 24th, having previously told Captain Gardner that the position
was too extended, and he desired to concentrate the force. Colonel
Durnford’s intention undoubtedly was to withdraw all the troops to
the rising ground on the right of the camp, to which point he had
retired his Native Horse.
The Zulus rushed on the left in overwhelming numbers, completely
surrounding the 24th. The guns limbered up, and made for the Rorke’s
Drift Road, but found it blocked by the enemy; they therefore
“followed a crowd of natives and camp-followers, who were running
down a ravine; the Zulus were all among them, stabbing men as they
ran.” Down this ravine the fugitives hastened, the enemy round and
among them, the assegai doing its deadly work.
Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine was said by Lieutenant Coghill to have been
killed,[138] and during the flight Major Stuart Smith, R.A. (who had
been wounded), Surgeon-Major Shepherd, and many a man, mounted and
on foot, were killed. The Buffalo was gained at a point about five
miles below Rorke’s Drift, and numbers of the fugitives were either
shot, or carried away by the stream and drowned. Lieutenants Melville
and Coghill rode from the camp, on its being carried by the Zulus,
the former with the Queen’s colours of his regiment. These he bore
into the river, but lost his horse, and was left struggling in the
swift current; Lieutenant Coghill, who had safely crossed, rode in to
his assistance, when his horse was shot. These brave young officers
succeeded in gaining the Natal shore, but were soon overtaken by the
enemy, and died fighting to the last. The Natal Native Horse escaped
with little loss; they assisted many in the retreat, which they
covered as well as they could, especially under Captain Barton on the
banks of the Buffalo. Captain Essex puts the time of the retreat
from the camp at “about 1.30 P.M.”
After this period no one living escaped from Isandhlwana, and it was
supposed that the troops had broken, and, falling into confusion,
that all had perished after a brief struggle.
Nothing was known of the after-events of that fatal day for months,
till, on the 21st May, the scene of the disaster was revisited, and
the truth of the gallant stand made was established. This will be
treated of in another chapter.
We must now turn to the movements of the column under Colonel
Glyn, with the General; and it will be most convenient to take the
occurrences of the day as described by Lord Chelmsford and his
military secretary (Lieut.-Colonel Crealock).
Leaving camp at daybreak,[139] the General “reached Major Dartnell
about 6.30 A.M., and at once ordered him to send out his mounted men
to gain intelligence of the enemy, whose whereabouts did not appear
to be very certain.” (P. P. [C. 2252] p. 75.) The enemy shortly
after showed in considerable strength at some distance, but retired
without firing as the troops advanced. Lieut.-Colonel Crealock says:
“Between 9.30 and 10 A.M. we were off-saddled some twelve miles from
camp. During the three previous hours we had been advancing with
Colonel Glyn’s column against a Zulu force that fell back from hill
to hill as we advanced, giving up, without a shot, most commanding
positions.” (P. P. [C. 2260] p. 99.) It was at this time (“about
9 A.M.,” the General says) that the message was received from
Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine, that a Zulu force had appeared on the hills
on his left front. The General says he at once sent his aide-de-camp,
Lieutenant Milne, R.N., to the top of a high hill, from which the
camp could be seen. He had “a very powerful telescope, but could
detect nothing unusual.”[140] Lieut.-Colonel Crealock says that all
the news he gave “was that the cattle had been driven into camp,” and
he acknowledges “our own attention was chiefly bent on the enemy’s
force retiring from the hills in our front, and a party being pursued
by Lieut.-Colonel Russell three miles off.”
The kloof where the enemy had been was found deserted, but a large
body of Zulus were seen beyond it, and a portion of the mounted
force sent after them, Major Dartnell and the rest of his men moving
off to the right in the direction of another body of Zulus. These
turned out to be Matshana’s people, with the chief himself present:
they were engaged, their retreat cut off, and then driven back on
the Native Contingent. Of this party Matshana and one or two of his
people alone escaped.
“Having no cause, therefore, to feel any anxiety about the safety of
the camp,” the General ordered the mounted infantry to sweep round
“to the main waggon-track, whilst a portion of the infantry went over
the hilltop to the same point, and the guns, with an escort, retraced
their steps,” with instructions to join Colonel Glyn near the Mangane
Valley, where the General proceeded with Colonel Glyn to fix upon a
site for a new camp. Captain Gardner, 14th Hussars, was sent back to
camp “with the order to Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine to send on the camp
equipage and supplies of the troops camping out, and to remain at his
present camp, and entrench it.”—(P. P. [C. 2260] p. 101).
The 1st Battalion Native Contingent was ordered to march back to camp
across country, and examine dongas, etc. _en route_.
“Not a sign of the enemy was now seen near us,” says Colonel
Crealock. “Not a suspicion had crossed my mind that the camp was in
any danger, neither did anything occur to make me think of such a
thing until about 1.15,” when it was fancied firing was heard (the
natives were certain of it). “We were then moving back to choose a
camp for the night about twelve miles from Isandula.” About 1.45
P.M., a native reported “heavy firing had been going on round the
camp. We galloped up to a high spot, whence we could see the camp,
perhaps 10 or 11 miles distant. None of us could detect anything
amiss; all looked quiet. This must have been 2 P.M. The General,
however, probably thought it would be well to ascertain what had
happened himself, but not thinking anything was wrong, ordered
Colonel Glyn to bivouac for the night where we stood; and taking
with him some 40 mounted volunteers, proceeded to ride into camp.
Lieut.-Colonel Cecil Russell, 12th Lancers, now joined us, and
informed me that an officer of the Natal Native Contingent had come
to him (about 12 noon, I think) when he was off-saddled, and asked
where the General was, as he had instructions to tell him that heavy
firing had been going on close to the camp.... This officer, however,
did not come to us.
“This information from Colonel Russell was immediately followed
by a message from Commandant Brown, commanding the 1st Battalion
Natal Native Contingent, which had been ordered back to camp at
9.30 A.M.—(the battalion was halted a mile from us, and probably
eight miles from camp)—to the effect that large bodies of Zulus were
between him and the camp, and that his men could not advance without
support. The General ordered an immediate advance of the battalion,
the mounted volunteers and mounted infantry supporting it.
“I am not aware what messages had been sent from[141] the camp and
received by Colonel Glyn or his staff; but I know that neither the
General nor myself had up to this time received any information but
that I have mentioned.
“At 3.15 the General appeared to think that he would be able to brush
through any parties of Zulus that might be in his road to the camp
without any force further than that referred to, viz. 1st Battalion
Native Contingent and some eighty mounted white men.
“At 4 P.M.,[142] however, the native battalion again halted,” when
within about six miles of the camp, “and shortly after—the General
says—Commandant Lonsdale rode up to report that he had ridden into
camp and found it in possession of the Zulus.” The General at
once sent word to Colonel Glyn to bring back all the troops, and
advanced about two miles, sending Lieut.-Colonel Russell forward to
reconnoitre;—he fully confirmed Commandant Lonsdale’s report. Colonel
Glyn rejoined the General about 6 P.M., when the troops were formed
in “fighting order,” and advanced across the plain; “but could not
reach the neighbourhood of our camp until after dark.”
It may properly be here remarked that from the outskirts of the force
firing had been seen at the camp as late as nearly four o’clock; and
about six, large bodies of the enemy were seen retiring from the
camp, through openings in the Ingqutu range.
When a move was first made by the General in the direction of the
camp, an officer who was in advance narrates what he saw when he
came to a rising ground from which the camp was first seen:
“There certainly were some tents standing then, but seemed very few,
and away to the left front of the camp there was some smoke, though
not much, and it was high up, just as if there had been musketry fire
and the smoke had floated away; but there was certainly no musketry
fire going on then. A few seconds afterwards a sergeant ... said:
‘There go the guns, sir.’ I could see the smoke, but we could hear
nothing. In a few seconds we distinctly saw the guns fired again,
one after the other, sharp. This was done several times—a pause, and
then a flash—flash! The sun was shining on the camp at the time,
and then the camp looked dark, just as if a shadow was passing over
it. The guns did not fire after that, and in a few minutes all the
tents had disappeared. The sergeant said, ‘It’s all over now, sir.’ I
said, ‘Yes, and I hope it is the right way.’ We could see there was
fighting going on, but of course did not know which way it had gone.
The men all thought the Zulus had retired, but I felt doubtful in my
own mind, but had no idea really of the catastrophe that had taken
place.... This must have been about 3 P.M.”
“Within two miles of camp,” Lieutenant Milne says, “four men were
seen slowly advancing in front of us; a few mounted men were sent
out; the men in front previously seen then took cover behind some
rocks, but were fired upon by our men; one fell, the remainder ran
out in the open, throwing up their hands to show they were unarmed.
On being taken prisoners, they were found to be Native Contingent,
escaped from the massacre.”—(P. P. [C. 2454] p. 185).
On nearing the camp it was nearly dark, but it was observed that
waggons were drawn up across the neck; the guns were therefore
brought into action and shelled them. Then, no sound being heard,
Major Black, with a wing of his regiment, moved forward to occupy the
small hill close to Isandhlwana. No enemy was seen, and the camp was
found tenanted by those who were taking their last long sleep.
A halt was made for the night amidst the _débris_ of (the proper
right of) the camp, on the “neck;” the infantry covering the west,
and the mounted troops and guns the east side. During the night there
were one or two false alarms, and the whole force, at early dawn,
moved off towards Rorke’s Drift, as the General was anxious about
the safety of that important post; also the troops had no spare
ammunition,[143] but little food, and “it was certain that daylight
would reveal a sight which could not but have a demoralising effect
upon the whole force.”—(P. P. [C. 2252] p. 76).
In Lord Chelmsford’s despatch of 27th January, he gives a narrative
of the attack on the camp, but remarks “the absolute accuracy of
which, however, I cannot vouch for” (pp. 76, 77). On comparing his
“narrative” with the _facts_, it will be found to be _absolutely
inaccurate_. But Lord Chelmsford makes some remarks which cannot be
passed, over in silence. He says: “Had the force in question but
taken up a defensive position in the camp itself, and utilised
there the materials for a hasty entrenchment;” but he does not point
out how the “force in question” was to know of the near approach of
the Zulu army, he himself having neglected to search the country
where that army lay. He had prepared no “defensive position;” but he
had selected a fatal spot for his camp, which, covering a front of
about half a mile, was utterly indefensible as it stood; and he had
“pooh-poohed” the suggestion of taking defensive precautions when
made by Colonel Glyn; and, further, it does not appear that there
was _any time whatever_ for the “force in question” to do anything
but fight. Lord Chelmsford then says: “It appears that the oxen were
yoked to the waggons three hours before the attack took place, so
that there was ample time to construct that waggon-laager which the
Dutch in former days understood so well.” This remark comes with
peculiar ill-grace from Lord Chelmsford, who not only had not taken
any precautions, but had not permitted any laager or other defence to
be made; and whose reply to a suggestion of a laager at Isandhlwana
was, “It would take a week to make.” Also it must not be forgotten
that the attack on Isandhlwana was _without warning_.
He next says: “Had, however, the tents been struck, and the British
troops placed with their backs to the precipitous Isalwana Hill, I
feel sure that they could have made a successful resistance.” Here
again he would blame the dead to cover the faults of the living!
But even had the troops been thus placed (as some eventually appear
to have been), how long could they keep at bay, when ammunition
failed,[144] an enemy armed with weapons they could use with fatal
effect out of reach of the bayonet?
And lastly, Lord Chelmsford speaks of rumours “that the troops were
deceived by a simulated retreat,” and thus “drawn away from the line
of defence.” The _facts_ prove the exact contrary. The only person
deceived by a “simulated retreat” was Lord Chelmsford himself, whose
troops _during three hours_ had advanced “against a Zulu force
that fell back from hill to hill ... giving up without a shot most
commanding positions.” And where was _their_ “_line of defence_?”
We do not find one word of Lord Chelmsford’s own want of the most
ordinary precautions—his want of “intelligence,” and neglect to
obtain it—of his seeing the enemy’s mounted scouts on the left front,
and intending (but not making) a reconnaissance in that direction—his
fixed belief that the enemy _could_ only be in force in his front—the
transparent way in which he was drawn off farther from the camp—the
absence of any attention to the signs that something _was_ wrong at
the camp—the prevention of assistance reaching the beleaguered camp
when one of his officers _had_ recognised the emergency, etc.; to
which must be added that we do not find one word of regret for the
untimely fate of the gallant men who fell doing _their_ duty. In
justice to Colonel Glyn, commanding No. 3 Column, it must be remarked
that the General himself gave the orders for the various movements,
etc. And in justice to Lord Chelmsford also, we note it is asserted
that the shock he experienced told severely upon him at the time; and
he may not have very carefully studied the despatch, which was the
work of his military secretary.
Before finally leaving the events of the 22nd January, we must fully
notice an important episode that occurred, and which had a serious
bearing on the disaster we have to lament.
We have seen that “the guns with an escort” were ordered to retrace
their steps ... to join Colonel Glyn at the rendezvous near the
Mangane Valley. We will now follow their movements.
When Lord Chelmsford discovered that the enemy he had come in
search of had disappeared, 4 guns Royal Artillery, 2 companies
2-24th Regiment (Captains Church and Harvey), and about 50 Natal
Native Pioneers, the whole under the command of Lieut.-Colonel
Harness, R.A., were ordered to march to a rendezvous in advance by
a different route to that taken by the remainder of the column;
this was necessary, as the guns could not go over the ground taken
by the latter. To carry out the order, they had to retrace for over
two miles the route by which they had come in the morning, and then
bear to the left. This was done (a short halt having first been
made, to let men and horses have a rest), and about twelve o’clock
they reached some rising ground, when they again halted, not being
certain of the direction of the rendezvous, to await Major Black,
2-24th, Assistant Quartermaster-General, who had gone on to find it.
Almost immediately after this halt the firing of cannon was heard,
and looking towards the camp, about eight miles off, they saw shells
bursting against the hills to the left of it. Soon afterwards a body
of about 1000 natives suddenly appeared in the plain below, between
them and the camp; the Native Pioneers thought they were Zulus.
Captain Church told Colonel Harness if he would let him have a horse
he would go and find out. Colonel Harness at once gave him one,
and sent a mounted sergeant with him. As they galloped towards the
natives, a European officer rode out, and when they met said: “The
troops behind me are Commandant Browne’s contingent, and I am sent to
give you this message: ‘_Come in every man, for God’s sake! The camp
is surrounded, and will be taken unless helped at once._’” Captain
Church rode back as fast as he could, and found Colonel Harness in
conversation with Major Gosset (aide-de-camp) and Major Black, both
of whom had come up during his absence. Colonel Harness promptly
said: “We will march back;” but Major Gosset ridiculed the idea,
and advised him to carry out his orders. Colonel Harness then asked
Major Black and Captain Church their opinions. They both agreed with
him without hesitation. Colonel Harness gave the order to return,
and started without a moment’s delay; Major Gosset riding off in the
direction of the General. About 1.30 P.M. Lieut.-Colonel Harness was
on his way to the camp, and had got over about two miles of ground
when he was overtaken by Major Gosset with orders from the General to
march back to the rendezvous. The order was obeyed.
Now the startling reflection comes home that to this most important
fact, bearing on the events of the day (for even if too late to
save life, Colonel Harness would have saved the camp), there is not
a hint even in the despatches of Lord Chelmsford, or the official
statement of his military secretary.[145] The latter goes so far
as to say, in paragraph 17 of his statement (P. P. [C. 2260] p.
100): “I am not aware what messages had been sent from the camp and
received by Colonel Glyn or his staff; but I know that neither the
General nor myself had up to this time received any information but
that I have mentioned.” This statement refers to a time _after_ the
General had arrived at a spot about a mile from where Commandant
Browne’s battalion of natives were halted, _after_ he had received
the message, “Come in, every man, for God’s sake,” etc., and _after_
he had met Colonel Harness on his return march to the rendezvous;
and not only that, but apparently _after_ the receipt of a most
important message from Lieut.-Colonel Pulleine, described as follows
by the special correspondent of _The Times_ of Natal (Captain
Norris-Newman): “We did halt there, and found the staff there as
well, looking on through the field-glasses at some large bodies of
Kafirs [Zulus], who were in close proximity to our camp about ten
miles off. The Mounted Police were ordered to halt and off-saddle;
but Captain [T.] Shepstone and his volunteers had orders to proceed
back to camp to see what was up. I joined them, and we had not gone
far on the road when a mounted messenger came up with a note from
Colonel Pulleine to the General, saying that the camp was attacked
by large numbers of Kafirs, and asked him to return with all the
help at his command. With this we halted, and awaited the up-coming
of the General, who came along at once, and proceeded up the valley
to reconnoitre. About three miles had been got over, during which we
passed the four guns under Colonel Harness, and some of the 24th ...
on their way to encamp at the new ground. A mounted man was then seen
approaching, and was recognised as Commandant Lonsdale. He brought
the dreadful news that, having chased a Zulu on horseback, he got
separated from his men, and had ridden quietly back to camp; but on
arrival there, within about three hundred yards of it (at about 2
P.M.), he found large bodies of the enemy surrounding it and fighting
with our men. He had just time to discover his mistake, turn, and fly
for his life, when several bullets were fired at him, and many Zulus
started in chase.”—_Natal Colonist_, January 30th, 1879.
The above message is undoubtedly that mentioned by Captain Gardner
as having been despatched from the camp at or soon after twelve
o’clock. (P. P. [C. 2260] p. 81.) And there still remains the fact
that, not only as regards Colonel Harness, does there appear to be an
unaccountable omission in the “statement”[146] alluded to, but also
we find mention of only _one_ message from the camp; whereas other
messages are _known_ to have been received, and to have been in the
possession of the Assistant Military Secretary.
Here also we must allude to Sir Bartle Frere’s despatches of January
27th, and February 3rd and 12th. In the first he says: “In disregard
of Lord Chelmsford’s instructions, the troops left to protect the
camp were taken away from the defensive position they were in at
the camp, with the shelter which the waggons, parked, would have
afforded....” We know that the troops did the best they could, left
as they were by their general in an open camp—we know they had
no “defensive position”—and we know that the waggons were _not_
“parked,” but drawn up in rear of their own camps.
Sir Bartle says, February 3rd: “It is only justice to the General to
note that his orders were clearly not obeyed on that terrible day at
Isandhlwana camp.”
And on February 12th, he says: “It is impossible to shut one’s eyes
to the fact that it was, in all human probability, mainly due to
disregard of the General’s orders that so great a disaster occurred”
(a little qualifying his sweeping assertion of February 3rd).
But yet again Sir Bartle returns to the charge, and says, June 30th:
“It is difficult to over-estimate the effect of such a disaster as
that at Isandhlwana on both armies, but it was clearly due to breach
of the General’s order, and to disregard of well-known maxims of
military science.”—(P. P. [C. 2454] p. 138).
On what grounds Sir Bartle Frere bases those assertions we know
not—no known orders were disobeyed—and, in spite of the special
pleading in these despatches, we must come to the conclusion that
Sir Bartle Frere’s remarks were penned in utter ignorance of facts,
and that the accusations concerning “disregard of well-known maxims
of military science” should have been applied, _not_ to the soldiers
who fell at Isandhlwana, but to those who placed them in that fatal
position.