THE PRINCE IMPERIAL.
Early in April the South African community was greatly impressed and
interested by the arrival of the young Prince Imperial, who came
out to Natal to take his share in the fortunes of war, and to see
something of active service against the Zulus. The colonists were not
a little gratified by the fact of this young hope of an illustrious
house having come to fight for and with them against their dreaded
foes; yet amongst them all there was hardly one, great or small,
gentle or simple, whose second thought was not one of sincere regret
that he, who, besides being of such importance in the future of
Europe, was also his widowed mother’s only son and sole comfort,
should be allowed to risk his life in a savage warfare. Many a
thought of kindly sympathy was directed from Natal towards that royal
mother for whom English men and women have always had so sincere a
feeling, whether in prosperity or adversity; and many a warm-hearted
woman’s eyes filled with tears at the sight of the gallant youth, and
at the very thought of what his loss would be to her who remained
to pray for him at home, the home which she had found amongst our
countrymen in England. On every side anxious hopes were expressed
that the Prince would be carefully guarded from danger, and not
allowed needlessly to throw away his precious young life; all these
hopes and anxieties were redoubled when he arrived, and, by his
winning ways and gallant bearing, won the hearts of all who came
in contact with him. Had Natal been asked, he would have been sent
straight home again instead of across the borders, and yet it would
have been hard to resist and thwart the eager wish to be of use, to
work, and to see service which characterised him throughout his short
campaign, and which, combined with gentleness and humanity as it was,
proved him to be a true soldier to the heart’s core.
Since he had come to Natal he could not, of course, be kept away
from the front, and the day he left ’Maritzburg good wishes from all
classes attended him along the road. It was thought, indeed, that
in all human probability he was safe, except in the event of some
such battle as would make the chances equal for all, from general
to drummer-boy. “At all events,” it was said, “Lord Chelmsford will
keep him by his side.” Others, again, opined that the General would
find it no easy task to restrain the eager young spirit that scorned
to be treated with more care than others of his age. But this doubt
was answered by one who knew the Prince, and who said that he was too
good a soldier ever to disobey an order. Throw himself in the way of
difficulty and danger he might wherever possible, but any distinct
_order_ would be promptly and fully obeyed.
For some little time the Prince acted as extra aide-de-camp to Lord
Chelmsford, and accompanied him in that capacity to Colonel Wood’s
camp at Kambula, and back to Utrecht. Colonel Harrison, R.E., was
also of the party, and during the journey very friendly relations
were established between him and the Prince, which lasted to the end,
and were drawn closer by the former’s careful attendance during an
indisposition which befell the latter.
Whilst at Kambula the General reconnoitred the Indhlobane Mountain
on May 4th, and on return to camp was joined by the Prince Imperial,
when, to show him the defence of a laager, the alarm was sounded. In
three minutes every man was at his allotted post, and an inspection
of the camp, with its double tier of rifles ready for work, was
made by the General and staff. Next day the camp was broken up, and
the column moved to about a mile from the White Umvolosi, near the
Zinguin range—Lord Chelmsford and staff, with the Prince, proceeding
to Utrecht.
On May 8th, the General, having appointed Colonel Harrison, R.E.,
Assistant-Quartermaster-General of the army, and Lieutenant Carey,
98th Regiment, Deputy-Assistant-Quartermaster-General, requested the
former “to give some work to the Prince Imperial, as he was anxious
for it, and did not find enough to do in the duties of an extra
aide-de-camp.” This request was a verbal one, and the words used
may not be letter for letter, but of the purport there is no doubt;
and such a request from the Commander-in-Chief was, of course, an
order which was immediately carried out. The Prince was directed
to collect and record information respecting the distribution of
troops, location of depôts, and the like, and he worked hard at this
for some days. Lord Chelmsford shortly afterwards left for Newcastle,
but before his departure Colonel Harrison suggested that it would be
advisable, during his lordship’s absence, to make a reconnaissance
into Zululand, on the borders of which they had been hovering so
long, so as to determine the exact line of route which the columns
ought to take in the impending invasion.
Lord Chelmsford accepted the suggestion, asking Colonel Harrison
to take the Prince with him on the expedition, and appointing an
intelligent officer to accompany them. The reconnoitring party
started with a strong escort, and reached Conference Hill on May
13th. Here they were joined by Colonel Buller and 200 horsemen, and
were engaged on their reconnaissance till May 17th, bivouacking at
night with horses saddled and bridled, and marching at dawn, scouring
the country, and sweeping Zulu scouts before them. The Prince
was delighted with the life, the simple fare of the officers—his
comrades—cooked by themselves at their camp-fire, the strange
country, the sight of the enemy, the exhilarating gallops over the
grass up hill and down dale after fleet Zulu spies, the bivouac under
the star-lit heavens. All this pleased him immensely; as he told
Colonel Harrison: “Made him feel that he was really doing soldiers’
work such as he had never done before.” Always anxious to be of use,
he made most careful and copious notes and observations on all they
saw or did.
On the 17th the party returned to Conference Hill, Colonel Harrison
and Colonel Buller having arranged for a combined and further
reconnaissance of the country from that place and Brigadier-General
Wood’s camp; but as the special duty to which the Prince and the
intelligence officer had been assigned was over, Colonel Harrison
would not allow them to accompany him farther, but directed them
to return to Utrecht. They obeyed; but, on the 18th, after Colonel
Harrison had started on his expedition and was already in Zululand,
he was surprised by the appearance of the Prince Imperial, who had
galloped all the way from Balte Spruit by himself to overtake him,
bringing with him the permission, for which he had sent a messenger
to Lord Chelmsford, to go on the new reconnaissance. The party now
consisted of Colonel Harrison, the Prince, Lieutenant Carey, one
officer and five men Bettington’s Horse, and one officer and twenty
men Natal Native Horse (Basutu). The escort would have been stronger,
but that the junction with Colonel Buller from Wood’s camp was looked
for to add to it. The first day was occupied in searching the country
as before, and in looking out for Buller; and the party bivouacked at
night with vedettes and sentries posted all round, as Zulus had been
seen on the hills, although they did not molest the reconnoitring
party.
On the following day (the 19th), whilst exploring a deep rough
valley, the party was suddenly confronted by a number of Zulus, who
came down the hill at one side of the donga, and spread out in the
usual way in two wings or horns, in order to overlap or outflank it,
firing as they advanced. The officer in command of the advance at
once put spurs to his horse and rode straight up the hill at the weak
centre of the Zulu detachment, followed by the rest of the party.
They pushed right through the centre of the Zulus, and the horns at
once broke away, and escaped among the rocks with some loss. Smaller
bodies of Zulus were met with subsequently, but did not attempt to
try conclusions with the horsemen, who were obliged to keep on the
move the greater part of the night, as the enemy was all around them.
Next morning they reached Conference Hill, without meeting Colonel
Buller; Colonel Harrison and the Prince proceeding to Utrecht to
report to Lord Chelmsford.
Lord Chelmsford now informed Colonel Harrison that “He
was to consider the Prince Imperial as attached to the
Quartermaster-General’s staff for duty, but it was not put in orders,
in consequence of the Prince not being in the army.” The Prince
lived, as before, with the General’s personal staff, and Colonel
Harrison, therefore, only saw him when he came for work or orders,
which was very frequently.
On May 25th—the head-quarters having been established at Landman’s
Drift—the Prince, having called for work as usual, was directed to
prepare a plan of a divisional camp. That evening Colonel Harrison
was spoken to by Lord Chelmsford, because the Prince Imperial had
gone outside the lines without an escort, but replied “That the work
he had given the Prince to do referred to the camp inside the outpost
lines.” The General then told Colonel Harrison “To take care that the
Prince was not to go out without an escort when working for him, and
in the matter of escort to treat him, not as a royal person, but the
same as any other officer, taking all due precautions.”
Colonel Harrison then said that “He would see the Prince, and tell
him he was never to leave the camp without a suitable escort, and
that he was to apply to him for one when it was wanted;” and Lord
Chelmsford replied that “That would do.”
The same day Colonel Harrison saw the Prince, and told him this,
and to make the matter quite sure, he then and there gave him the
instructions in writing.
He next directed him to make a map of the country, from the
reconnaissance sketches of Lieutenant Carey and others. This work the
Prince executed very well, and so eager was he for employment, so
desirous to be always up and doing, that he went, not once or twice,
but often every day to Colonel Harrison’s tent asking for more.
On the 28th of May, head-quarters were at Kopje Allein, and on that
and the two following days reconnaissances were pushed far into the
enemy’s country, but no enemy was seen. Small parties, even single
officers, rode about unmolested all over the district round, and went
beyond the spot where so sad a scene was shortly afterwards enacted.
On the 31st of May the Prince went to Colonel Harrison’s tent with a
report which he had written, and, as usual, asked for some more work.
He was told that the army was to march next day, and that he might
go out and report on the roads and camps for the day following; with
which instructions the Prince was greatly pleased. Next day the 2nd
Division (with which were Lord Chelmsford and the head-quarters’
staff) were ordered to march towards Ulundi; Wood’s column being
in advance some miles, on the other side of the Blood River, on a
road which would take it out eventually on the line of march of
the head-quarters’ column. Lieutenant Carey, whilst conversing on
duty matters with Colonel Harrison, expressed a wish to go out with
the Prince, as he desired to verify a sketch he had made on the
previous day; and, although Colonel Harrison had intended to ask
one of the General’s personal staff to accompany the Prince, he
said, when Lieutenant Carey volunteered to go: “All right; you can
look after the Prince!” At the same time he told Lieutenant Carey
to let the Prince do the work for which he was going out, namely,
a detailed report on the road and the selection of a site for the
camp. Lieutenant Carey was known to Colonel Harrison as a cautious
and experienced officer, who had been frequently out on patrol duties
with Colonel Buller and others, who was acquainted with the nature of
the work he had to do, the precautions to be taken, and the actual
ground to be gone over; and there was every reason to believe that he
thoroughly understood his position, and would make, as he had done
before, the proper arrangements for an escort.
On the morning of the 1st, Colonel Harrison, hearing that no escort
had arrived at the hour fixed for the departure of the reconnoitring
party, went over to General Marshall’s tent, and obtained from him
the order for the number of men he thought sufficient—“six Europeans
and six Basutos;” and, having informed Lieutenant Carey of this,
he rode off to attend to his own duties—superintending the march of
the army, inspecting the fords, and moving on in advance (in company
with Major Grenfell) to select the site for watering-places and the
next camp. On a ridge in front of the column Colonel Harrison and
his companion presently found the Prince and Lieutenant Carey halted
with the European troopers only, and heard from them that they were
waiting for the Basutos, who had not joined them in camp; but some
were now in sight on the hillside flanking the line of march, and
moving in a direction which would bring them upon it a little in
advance of the spot where the party was waiting.
As Lieutenant Carey had been already over the country, he was asked
by Colonel Harrison to point out the place where the water supply
for the next camp was, and the whole party rode slowly along a donga
towards the supposed stream or ponds. Colonel Harrison did not think
the water sufficient for their purpose, and rode back to the high
ground, where he was rejoined by Major Grenfell, who told him that
the Prince’s party had just discovered a better supply a little
farther on. There was a ridge in front of them which they considered
marked the end of the day’s march, and the officers dispersed to
attend to their own duties, not imagining for an instant that the
reconnoitring party would go on without the Basutos, who, from their
wonderful power of sight and hearing, and quickness at detecting the
approach of danger, were always regarded as essential to an escort.
Unhappily, however, such was the case. The party rode on until they
came to a deserted kraal, situated some 200 yards from the river, and
consisting of five huts, one with the usual small cattle enclosure.
Between the kraal and the river stretched a luxuriant growth of
tambookie grass, five or six feet in height, with mealies and Kafir
corn interspersed. This dense covert, however, did not completely
surround the kraal, for in front there was an open space, apparently
used by the Zulus, judging from the ashes and broken earthenware
strewn about, as a common cooking-ground.
Here the party halted, and the Prince, having first sent a native
guide to make sure that the huts were all uninhabited, gave the
order that the horses should be off-saddled and turned out to
graze. Some of them lit a fire and made coffee, while the Prince
and Lieutenant Carey, after the latter had taken a look round with
his glass, proceeded to make sketches of the surrounding country.
It is said that the Prince’s talent with pen and pencil, combined
with his remarkable proficiency in military surveying—that great
gift of recognising at once the strategic capabilities of any spot
which distinguished the First Napoleon—made his contributions to our
knowledge of the country to be traversed of great value; and he never
lost an opportunity of making himself of use in this and every other
way.
It was about 3 P.M. when the party halted at this deserted kraal, the
Prince deciding that they should leave again in an hour’s time. That
the Zulus had been upon the spot not long before was apparent from
signs of freshly-chewed _imfi_ (native sugar-cane) upon the ground,
while a few dogs lingering about might have suggested that their
masters were not far off. Before the hour was over, however, the
native guide came in to report that he had seen a Zulu coming over
the hill, and it was now thought prudent to retire, the Prince giving
directions to collect and up-saddle the horses, followed by the order
to “Mount.”
Some of the men were already in the saddle, others in the act of
mounting, when a sudden volley fired upon them from amongst the
tall stalks of the mealies (Indian corn) which grew on every side,
betrayed the presence of a numerous armed foe, who had returned
unseen to those who were in temporary occupation of their kraals.
The distance was not twenty yards, and the long grass swayed to the
sudden rush of the Zulus, as with a tremendous shout, they charged
towards the Prince and his companions. The horses all swerved at the
suddenness of the tumult, and one broke away, its rider being shot
before he could recover it and mount. The young Prince was riding
a fine gray charger, a gray of sixteen hands, always difficult to
mount, and on this occasion, frightened by the firing, it became
restive and could not be controlled. Lieutenant Carey, apparently,
had at this moment been carried by his horse in a direction which
brought one of the huts between him and the Prince, of whose
difficulties he was therefore unaware. From the moment of the attack
no man seems to have known much of what the rest were doing; to
gallop away was the only chance for life, and all hurried off, the
Prince in vain endeavouring to mount his restive steed unaided. He
was passed by Trooper Letocq: “_Dépêchez vous, s’il vous plait,
Monsieur!_” he cried, as he dashed past, himself only lying across
his saddle, but the Prince made no answer; he was already doing his
utmost, and in another minute he was alone. He was seen endeavouring
to mount his rearing charger, as it followed the retreat, while he
ran beside it, the enemy close at hand. He made one desperate attempt
to leap into the saddle by the help of the holster-flap; _that_ gave
way, and then he fell. The charger dashed riderless past some of the
mounted men, who, looking back, saw the Prince running after them
on foot, with the Zulus but a few paces behind him. Alas! not a man
turned back, they galloped wildly on, and carried back to camp the
news that the gallant young Prince, for or with whom each of them
should have died that day, lay slain upon the hillside where he had
made his last brave stand alone. Two troopers fell besides—one was
struck down by a bullet as he rode away; the other was the man who
had lost his horse, Trooper Rogers, and who was last seen in the
act of levelling his carbine at the enemy. The native guide was
killed as well, after a hard fight with the foe, witnessed to by the
blood-stained and broken weapons found by his side next day. The
fugitives rode on for some distance, when they met General Wood and
Colonel Buller, to whom they made their report. From the brow of an
adjacent hill these officers, looking through their glasses, could
see the Zulus leading away the horses they had taken—the trophies of
their successful attack.
That evening Colonel Harrison was in his tent, engaged in writing
orders for the next day’s march, when Lord Chelmsford came in to
tell him “The Prince is killed!” and Lieutenant Carey soon after
confirmed the dreadful, well-nigh incredible news. He said they were
off-saddled at a kraal, when they were surrounded and fired into,
and that the Prince must have been killed, for no one had seen him
afterwards.
Colonel Harrison asked the General to let him take a few men to the
kraal, and see if, by any chance, the Prince were only wounded, or
were hidden near at hand, but his request was not granted, and the
testimony of the survivors extinguished all hope.
Next day General Marshall, with a cavalry patrol, went out to search
for the Prince, being assisted by scouts of the Flying Column. The
bodies of the troopers were soon found, and shortly afterwards that
of His Imperial Highness was found by Captain Cochrane, lying in a
donga about 200 yards from the kraal where the party had halted. The
body was stripped with the exception of a gold chain with medallions
attached, which was still round his neck. Sword, revolver, helmet,
and clothes were gone; but in the grass were found the Prince’s spurs
and one sock.
The body had eighteen assegai wounds, all in front, and the marks on
the ground and on the spurs indicated a desperate resistance.
The two white troopers were laid together beside a cairn of stones,
which was erected to mark the exact spot where the Prince was found,
and later in the day they were buried there, the chaplain on duty
with the column performing the funeral service.
But for the Prince himself a true soldiers’ bier was formed of lances
lashed together and horse blankets, and, borne thus, the body of the
noble lad was carried up the hill towards the camp which he had left
the previous day so full of energy and life.
The melancholy news was telegraphed throughout the colony, causing
universal grief and consternation. Every heart was wrung with
sympathy for _the mother_; and even those to whose homes and hearts
the war had already brought desolation, felt their own grief hushed
for awhile in the presence of a bereavement which seemed to surpass
all others in bitterness and depth.
What citizen of ’Maritzburg will ever forget the melancholy Sunday
afternoon, cold and storm-laden, when, at the first distant sound of
the sad approaching funeral music, all left their homes and lined the
streets through which the violet-adorned coffin passed on its way to
its temporary resting-place.
In Durban, too, the solemn scene was repeated; the whole colony being
deeply moved at the sad and untimely death of the gallant Prince.
H.M.S. _Boadicea_, flag-ship of Commodore Richards, had the honour of
conveying the body to Simon’s Bay, when it was transferred to H.M.S.
_Orontes_ with every possible mark of respect for conveyance to
England.
A court of inquiry was at once assembled by Lord Chelmsford, and
reported that Lieutenant Carey had not understood the position in
which he stood towards the Prince, and, as a consequence, failed to
estimate aright the responsibility which fell to his lot; also that
he was much to blame for having proceeded on the duty in question
with a portion only of the escort; and that the selection of the
kraal where the halt was made, surrounded as it was by cover for the
enemy, and adjacent to difficult ground, showed a lamentable want of
military prudence. And, finally, the court deeply regretted that no
effort was made after the attack to rally the escort and to show a
front to the enemy, whereby the possibility of aiding those who had
failed to make good their retreat might have been ascertained.
Lieutenant Carey was then tried by court-martial and found guilty.
The home authorities decided, however, that the conviction and
sentence could not be maintained, and consequently ordered this
officer to be released from arrest and to return to his duty.
In justice to Lieutenant Carey it must be said that the Prince
appears to have been actually in command of the party; Lieutenant
Carey accompanied it, by permission, for the purpose of completing
some of his own work, taking advantage of the protection of the
escort to enable him to do so; he received no order about the command
of the escort, or other instructions beyond the words, “You can look
after the Prince,” which were evidently interpreted as _advise him_,
but could scarcely warrant controlling his movements.
The Prince’s written instructions from Colonel Harrison were lost
with him.
On dangerous duties pertaining to the Quartermaster-General’s
Department in an enemy’s country the Prince Imperial should _never_
have been employed; as long as he remained with the British forces
he should have been retained on the personal staff of the General
commanding.