FIGHTING IN THE MATOPOS
_3d August to 5th August_
Scouting in the Matopos—An Enemy’s Lure—A Gallop after a Lady—Umzava,
a Lady of Rank, tells us the latest Matabele News—Plumer marches
against the Combined Impis under Sikombo—Beresford takes up Detached
Party—Beresford’s Party attacked—A Tough Fight—The Main Body makes a
General Attack—Our Scouts fight a Duel on the Mountain—A Beautiful
but Tantalising View—The Cape Boys to the Fore again—Retreat of the
Enemy—Our Return to Camp.
_4th August._—To–day we had a delightful patrol. At one o’clock this
morning I left camp (at Dawson’s Store on the Umzingwane), with
Richardson as interpreter, Jan Grootboom, Jonas, and three other
native boys, and went across the valley eight miles to the foot of the
Matopos. Our fighting against Babyan, and our subsequent raids along
the Matopos, had evidently disturbed the rebels at the eastern end
of the mountain. We knew that Sikombo, Inyanda, and Mnyakavulu had
retired from their original positions, as marked in my map (p. 103), to
a position a little more retired within the Matopos, but we were not
sure whether Umlugulu had also joined them in their concentration, and
I was now anxious to ascertain this, and at the same time to capture
one or two prisoners, if possible, who might serve as guides, or give
us information regarding the new positions taken up by the enemy.
As we got near to one of the hills, close to which I had already passed
on one or two occasions, we saw the twinkle of a watch–fire, and just
before dawn about half a dozen were lit there in succession, but
apparently lit by one or two men only, probably as a lure or a blind to
us. However, at dawn, we saw what they were, and we passed on _viâ_ the
Tuli road. At the point where this road passes through the end of the
eastern hills was the scene of Brand’s fight of the 10th of April. Jan
Grootboom had been with this column, and gave us a most circumstantial
account of the fight, taking special care to show us his own horse
where it lay shot dead. Father Barthelemy, who is with our force now as
chaplain, was also in this action, and did grand work, so they all say,
in helping the wounded and giving the last rites to those who wanted
it, whatever their creed.
[Illustration: MY BOY PREPARING BREAKFAST
An important item in the day’s doings when out scouting was breakfast.
For, as a rule, we had marched a good part of the night, and had
reconnoitred during the early morning, so that by breakfast–time we were
getting ravenous. A place had to be selected where we should be safe
from surprise, and while one of us kept a look–out, the other lit the
fire and boiled the “billy.”]
As we went down the road through the pass, we found the road barricaded
with trees which had been felled in such a way as to lie across it;
evidently a plan of the enemy’s to prevent Brand’s force from turning
back and escaping by the way they came. Just beyond one of these
barricades, we found the remains of a white man who had been killed in
that fight, a young fellow with light curly hair. The other bodies had
been buried during our visit of the 2nd inst.
We went on till we came to the ruins of a roadside hotel and store well
in among the mountains. Here we began to find fresh spoor of natives
moving about. After a short rest and breakfast, we went in closer to
Umlugulu’s stronghold, and by dint of careful climbing about the rocks,
and by spying with a good glass, we were able to see not only that the
enemy were there, but pretty well how they were located.
So that part of our work was accomplished; but I still wanted to catch
a prisoner—though I did not at first see my way to doing it. However,
in the course of our prowl, we presently came on fresh well–beaten
tracks, evidently of women and children going to and from the outlying
country, probably bringing in supplies. This seemed to offer us a
chance of catching some of them coming in, although, as the sun was
up, we had little hope of being very successful.
But luck was with us again, and we had hardly settled ourselves near
the path when I saw a couple of women coming along with loads on their
heads. The moment they saw us, they dropped their loads and ran, but
Richardson and I galloped for them, and one, an elderly lady, gave
herself up without any fuss; but the other, a lithe and active young
person, dived away at a tremendous pace into the long grass, and
completely disappeared from view. We searched about, and kept a bright
look–out for her, but in vain.
Then Richardson questioned the old lady, who proved to be very
communicative; she was apparently superintending the supply department
of Umlugulu’s impi, and was now returning from a four days’ visit of
inspection to the supply base in some of his villages in the district.
She was a lady of rank too, being a niece of Umzilikatze, and we should
not have caught her, so she said, had her escort not been a pack of
lazy dogs. She had four Matabele warriors with her, but they had
dropped behind on the path, and should not now be far off. This was
good news to us, and, calling up our Boys, we laid an ambush ready to
catch the escort.
[Illustration: RUNNING AFTER A LADY
An unsuccessful attempt to capture a rebel girl. It was a race for the
enemy’s stronghold, and the young lady won.]
While this was being done, I happened to catch sight of our young lady
stealing away in the distance. She was getting away at a great pace,
her body bent double to the ground, taking advantage of every bit of
cover, more like an animal than a human being. Away I went after her
as hard as I could go, and I had a grand gallop. When she found that
concealment was no longer any use, she straightened herself, and just
started off like a deer, and at a pace equal to my own; it was a grand
race through long grass and bush, the ground gradually getting more
rough and broken as it approached the hills, and this told in her
favour, for as her pace slackened for want of breath, my horse also was
going slower owing to the bad ground. So she ran me right up to the
stronghold, and just got away into the rocks ahead of me. I had, of
course, then to haul off, as to go farther was to walk into the hands
of the impi. The bad part of it was, that she had now got in there, and
would spread the news of our being about, and they would probably come
out and upset our little plan of catching the party on the road.
Then I made my way back to my patrol, but, finding that the enemy did
not come along, we guessed that they must have seen us and were hiding
themselves somewhere, and accordingly we spread ourselves out and
proceeded along their route for some distance, examining the grass and
bush as we went; but we failed to find them. (_P.S._—One of our scouts
in searching the bush actually came across them, but, being cut off
by them, hid himself in the neighbouring koppie till nightfall, when
he made his way back to camp and told us how the four Matabele were
stalking us when we thought that we were stalking them.)
Eventually we came out on to the plain by a different path than that
which we used on entering, and got back to the main body about noon,
having been out eleven hours.
The main body had now moved its camp to within a couple of miles of the
mountains, preparatory to attacking this end of the Matopos.
The old lady whom we had brought into camp, whose name is Umzava, is a
charming old thing, and after a good feed of meat is very communicative.
This afternoon I went for a short ride into the hills with De Moleyns
and Pyke; we got three shots at rebel scouts who were watching our camp
from the neighbouring heights, and we saw a good number on the hills
farther off; so they are evidently on the look–out for us.
Umzava, over a tin of meat this evening, confirms our idea that there
are five impis collected in the position within the hills near us. Many
of the rebels would like to give in, but their chiefs will not let
them. They are all much disheartened by the rapid successive blows that
they have had in the Matopos, especially as they had looked upon these
mountains as impregnable strongholds. The defeat of Babyan especially
had been a very severe blow; a large number of their best men had been
killed here, including five chiefs; and Huntwani, their leading induna,
had been severely wounded in the leg. The rebels are pretty well off
for meat, food, and ammunition, but are getting tired of war, as it
prevents the sowing of next year’s crop, and they are beginning to lose
faith in the M’limo, who had promised that all the whites should die of
rinderpest, instead of which the whites seem to be increasing every
day in numbers.
_5th August._—The column paraded in the dark at half–past four in the
morning, and moved off silently, without lighting fires or pipes, as
we were close under the heights occupied by the enemy’s look–outs. It
fell to me to act as guide, since I knew something of the country to be
traversed and the point where the enemy were posted. It meant passing
through the two outer ranges of hills and through a wooded pass into a
semicircular valley or amphitheatre, two sides of which were occupied
by the rebel impis. At sunrise we arrived in the pass leading into this
valley, where we were completely sheltered from view by the bush. The
back of the valley was formed by a single high ridge of smooth granite,
and from it five offshoots ran down into the valley like fingers from
the ridge of knuckles. At the tip of each of these fingers rose rocky
peaks among the bush and jungle of the lower valley; these peaks and
the fingers themselves form the strongholds of the individual impis. It
was evident that if we could get our guns into the commanding position
afforded by the knuckles, they would be able to bring an effective
fire to bear on each of the strongholds in turn, and thus prepare
the way for our storming them from the valley. Our force consisted
of the M.R.F., some of the police, Coope’s Scouts, Robertson’s and
Colenbrander’s Cape Boys, two mountain guns, the Maxims, Hotchkiss, and
rocket tubes, with friendly natives to carry them.
[Illustration: THE BATTLE OF AUGUST 5TH
The sketch above will explain the nature of the operation which led to
Colonel Plumer’s victory on August 5th—probably the most serious and
important engagement which has been fought throughout the campaign in
Matabeleland. Five allied impis of Matabele were attacked and completely
routed. The position of Colonel Plumer’s main body at 7.30 a. m. is
shown right in the foreground. At six o’clock the infantry, together
with two screw guns, was detached under the chief command of Captain
Beresford, with orders to advance to the right for the purpose of making
a detour and shelling the valley preparatory to the general advance.
While this force was moving forward, and as the guns were being taken
over a small isolated koppie, the Matabele, who had carefully concealed
themselves, made a sudden and determined dash upon them. It was then
that Lieutenant Hervey was mortally wounded, several other officers
and men being hit at the same time. The enemy were eventually beaten
off, but Beresford was unable to advance until supports had been sent
to him. At eleven o’clock Major Kershaw stormed the range of hills to
the left, and here, while gallantly leading his men, he was shot dead.
A cross marks the spot where he fell. Robertson’s attack was made at
twelve o’clock, and at one o’clock the Matabele were in full retreat.
The enemy’s total force was estimated at 4000 men and their losses at
from 200 to 300. Our force numbered 760, of which we lost six killed and
fifteen wounded.]
Colonel Plumer, who was commanding the force, now ordered the guns,
with a strong escort of one hundred and thirty men under Captain the
Hon. J. Beresford, 7th Hussars, to endeavour to gain a position on
the ridge, moving up that shoulder of it which might be termed the
thumb. With Beresford I sent two of my boys as guides and scouts, and I
told Beresford to keep a good look–out in going out, as he might find
Inyanda’s impi on the right of his path, while the remaining four were
away to his left.
At 7.30 this party moved off to our right front. The main body meantime
were to remain concealed where they were until the guns got into
position for shelling the strongholds, upon which it would move forward
and attack them in succession.
While we were waiting, I climbed up on to a neighbouring koppie to
have a look round with my telescope. On almost every hill I could see
natives, and on one hill in particular which overlooked the path where
I had been scouting yesterday, and by which they evidently expected us
to arrive, were collected a large number of their scouts. It was great
fun watching them through the glass, as they seemed so close to one,
and were entirely unconscious of one’s presence. One or two kept an
anxious look–out to the eastward (we were due west of them), while the
remainder in a hidden position were having their breakfast. Presently
the glint of the arms of Beresford’s party attracted their attention,
and their consternation was almost ludicrous to watch; on all the other
koppies one could see that the alarm had spread, and without noise or
shouting the rebels were stealthily collecting together under arms.
Beresford had been gone for nearly an hour, when presently we heard him
open fire; there was a rattle of a few shots, quickly followed by a
roar of volleys and rapid sustained fire; this, echoing back from the
hills around, developed into a continuous roar, which was added to by
the roll of the Maxims and the booming of the bigger guns. This was a
sound we had not expected to hear, as we thought there could not have
been any very serious attack so early in the day in such an outlying
portion of the field, but we had not reckoned upon the rapidity in
which the enemy would move this day.
So soon as we recognised that serious fighting was on hand, Colonel
Plumer sent Captain Coope with a patrol to see how Beresford was
getting on. Coope worked his way round, and later on reappeared with
the information that Beresford in the course of his march had been
suddenly attacked by the enemy converging on him from three sides at
once; he had formed his small party into a square on a convenient
plateau, and there for over an hour remained hotly engaged, the enemy
rushing up to within a few yards under the good protection afforded
by the boulders and bush. It was a stiff and plucky fight on both
sides. The enemy, rushing on in great numbers, seemed confident of
overwhelming the little force opposed to them; but the whites were
ready for them, and opened a steady, destructive fire on them, which
checked them time after time. Some natives having effected a lodgment
in some rocks commanding the position, Lieutenant Hervey was ordered to
dislodge them with a few of his men, and it was while dashing forward
to do so that his sergeant–major was shot dead, and he himself fell
mortally wounded through the body. His place was at once gallantly
taken by Mr. Weston Jarvis, who had sauntered out with a gun to look at
the fun, but proved himself a cool and able leader in a tight place.
At one moment, seeing a volley from the enemy was imminent, the order
was given by one of the officers to his men to take cover. The men in
charge of the Maxim by mistake took this order as applying to them and
left the Maxim, in order to take cover as directed; in an instant the
rebels saw their chance, and made a rush to get the gun. Llewellyn,
the officer in charge, saw their move, and jumped forward himself and
alone to counteract it. It was a race for the gun; Llewellyn was there
first, and, jumping on to the saddle, turned its stream of fire on to
the natives, who were within a few yards of him, and they turned and
fled, falling to the fire. The native muleteers behaved very pluckily,
taking their carbines and assisting in the defence; the friendly
natives who had been employed in carrying the Maxims and Hotchkiss
showed very little heart; they crept in and took cover under the back
of the mules, excepting one or two, who, when the enemy were close up,
got away and joined their ranks. The guns were excellently served,
firing case into the enemy at 50 yards; both the officers in charge of
the guns—Lieutenant M’Culloch, R.A., and Lieutenant Fraser, West Riding
Regiment—were wounded, but both continued to work with the battery.
[Illustration: AFTER THE FIGHT
Scene of Beresford’s fight in the action of 5th August, with the
1–pounder Hotchkiss (on the left), a rocket trough, and 7–pounder (on
the right), still in position. The gully in front of the guns is that in
which the enemy concentrated for their attacks. They lost heavily when,
on account of a flank attack by our main body, they had to retire over
the rise beyond. The bald rock mountain at the back (much reduced from
its proper proportion by the camera–lens) is where we (Coope’s Scouts)
got to eventually and had our “duel.” The trees in the foreground were
all ripped and torn by bullets.]
At one time a war rocket was fired, partly as a signal and partly
to obtain a moral effect, and it certainly succeeded in the latter
respect, for after its unearthly bang a dead silence seemed to come
over the scene, both sides ceased firing as if by common consent, and
then the weird notes were heard of Sikombo’s war–horn reverberating
through the mountains with a sound like that of a steam siren, calling
up reinforcements for the fight.
But meantime, hearing what was going on there, Plumer ordered an
immediate advance of his main body. Coope’s Scouts were to lead the
way, supported by the two corps of Cape Boys, backed up by the M.R.F.
As we came out into the valley from our position, we could see the
enemy collected in front of Beresford; they were not then actively
attacking him, but they were evidently ready and awaiting further
reinforcements, but our appearance soon changed their plans. Retreating
hastily from the immediate neighbourhood of Beresford’s position, under
fire of his Maxims, they retired on to the next ridge (or fore–finger)
to him, many of them getting into position at the koppie at the end of
it. This ridge we at once attacked; pressing on with Coope’s Scouts, we
were at the foot of the ridge almost as soon as the enemy were on to
the upper part of it, and here the fun began. Dismounting and leaving
our horses under cover of the rocks, we commenced to clamber up the
hill, firing whenever we got a chance. They were firing back at us,
but, as a rule, well over our heads; we were in much greater danger
from our friends behind. The Cape Boys, who were supporting us, came
swarming across the open at the double, every man firing as he ran; men
100 yards in rear as gaily as those who were leading the rush, none of
them stopping to take much aim. However, the moral effect on the enemy
was all that could be desired. He had not settled himself into position
on this ridge before he found the swarm of whites and Cape Boys
assailing it, and it required very little pressure to make him quit and
take up a better position with the supporting impi on the next ridge.
But those of the enemy who had succeeded in getting into the koppie
at the end of the first ridge were evidently determined to hold their
own there, and they opened an unpleasantly accurate fire upon us from
this coign of advantage. During a pause for breath in the course of the
rush, I was talking to Schroeder, the war correspondent, when a fellow
had a crack at us from the koppie and cut up the sand between our feet;
we then adjourned our conversation to the lee–side of a big rock.
[Illustration: THE DEATH OF KERSHAW
Shot while leading his squadron to the attack of some caves.]
Kershaw’s squadron was now called up to assault this koppie, while I
was recalled to take Coope’s Scouts round by Beresford’s position,
and, if possible, to work round the flank and rear of the enemy, to
observe and report what was going on in that direction. I gathered my
party and rode off accordingly, and a parting salute from the defenders
of the koppie whistled harmlessly over our heads as we went. It was
shortly afterwards, in carrying out the storming of this koppie, that
poor Kershaw was shot with two bullets through him at the entrance of
the main cave, and his sergeant was shot through the head at the spot
where I had been talking to Schroeder, probably by the same man who had
fired at us.
On passing through Beresford’s party, I only stopped a few moments to
hear his report and to say a word to the wounded, and then rode on,
after a handshake with one or two friends. The curious look in the eyes
of some of these men who had been near to death haunted one for some
time after.
After leaving him, for about half a mile we began the ascent of the
ridge, and a very nasty place it was. It was a single narrow track
going diagonally up the face of the cliff, very steep and rocky,
so that we had to go in single file, leading our horses. We were
completely at the mercy of any enemy who liked to come and fire down
upon us from above, or who liked to cut in on the path after we had
passed up it. In order to prevent this as far as possible, and also to
guide supporting parties on to our track, we left one or two men at
points along the path.
Finally, on nearing the top, we halted and concealed our horses in
the bush. Coope went on ahead as leading scout, and had a look over
the crest, and returned to say that the enemy in long strings were
retreating across the ridge about half a mile beyond, and that if we
could get a few men up to assist us,—we did not number more than half
a dozen at this point,—we should have a grand chance at them. He also
said that there were some goats close by, and he thought he had heard
men’s voices.
I then went up with him to have a look, and could see the enemy getting
away as he described. To get up here we had quitted the path for the
last 40 yards, and had climbed on to some rocks overlooking it; and
now, when Coope went back to bring up the men, I came in for a little
fun on my own account.
The bleating of goats was continuous close by, and then I saw the
reason: two goats had been tied up, twenty yards apart from each other,
in order to make them bleat. Close by, behind a rock, were seated eight
niggers, evidently lying in ambush waiting for us to come up the path,
following the attractive sound of the goats’ voices, and here was I
in a position where they did not expect me! Suddenly one of them saw
me, and they took the alarm and dived down to the other side of the
rock, but one with a gun stood for a moment looking for me, and gave
me a very good chance; he did not join the others behind the rock, but
dropped where he was.
They then opened fire on me, but I was in long grass, and merely had
to lie down to be quite safe, shifting my position a few yards each
time before I returned their shots. I was very quickly joined by half
a dozen men, and we had quite a little duel with this piquet of the
enemy; but it had the bad effect of bringing more of them upon the
scene, and although they had not the pluck to come out and drive us
back, they effectively barred us from getting any farther forward.
However, from where we were, on the summit of the ridge we had a
splendid bird’s–eye view of the whole of the battlefield, and a good
view also of those parties of the enemy who were already in retreat.
Too good a view, in fact; it was like a bad dream to see this beautiful
opportunity for a pursuit, and yet to find oneself tied by the leg from
want of men.
[Illustration: CAPE BOYS BARING THEIR FEET FOR THE ATTACK
The rocks were so smooth and steep that the Cape Boys took off their
boots to get a better foothold.]
I now began to signal down to Plumer, telling him the state of affairs
up here, and asking for more men to come and join in the pursuit, but
the reply came back that every man was now employed in making a final
attack on the koppies in the valley below; and from where we stood we
had a beautiful view of what was going on.
The Cape Boys had worked their way round to the enemy’s right as far
as the third and fourth ridges, and did some pretty hard fighting as
they went. In one place they found the rocks so steep that they had to
take off their boots in order to obtain sufficient foothold, and at one
point a counter attack on the part of the enemy in overwhelming numbers
pressed them back for a bit. Robertson, Serjeant, and Hubert Howard led
this attack, the latter getting wounded in the foot.
The M.R.F. and the police attacked the central portion of the enemy’s
position with great steadiness and determination, and drove him out of
one position after another, until at last the enemy seemed to give up
all hope of continuing the struggle, and strings and parties of them
could be seen making off over the hills in all directions, followed
wherever they made a good target by the fire of the Maxims and the
7–pounders. Had we had more men where I was, we could have carried out
a most effective pursuit; but, after all, the smashing they got was
sufficient in itself, and after a time the firing died down, and we
could hear the trumpet sounding the recall.
Making my way down to Plumer in response to a signal from him, I found
him on the knoll where Beresford’s party had been attacked. Although
naturally satisfied with the result of the day’s work, Plumer was
evidently affected by the loss of his friend and right–hand man,
Kershaw.
We now found that out of our force of seven hundred, five had been
killed and fifteen wounded, and among the latter was Lieutenant Hervey,
for whom there is little hope. The enemy’s force was estimated at from
four to five thousand men, and of these we killed between two and three
hundred.
To our great surprise, we found that it was already three o’clock;
the day had flown by very quickly. We then reformed the column for
marching back to camp, the wounded being taken on stretchers carried
by Cape Boys; and I was placed in command of a strong party to act as
a rearguard to prevent any attacks from the enemy when moving through
the defiles. As we moved slowly away, burning everything inflammable as
we went, in the way of huts or long grass, we could see small parties
of the enemy going about the field picking up the dead and wounded,
and at one point one of our parties engaged in the same work was fired
upon by some of the enemy in a koppie, and the rearguard went to their
assistance; we found they were bringing out the body of Sergeant
M’Loskie laid across the saddle of a spare horse.
[Illustration: IN THE MIDST OF LIFE
The above shows the mule battery moving off from Beresford’s position
after the fight of 5th August. The grave is that of one of the men who
had just before been killed in the action—but previous to leaving we
took down the cross again, as it could only show the enemy’s stragglers
where a white man was buried, and they were always anxious to exhume
bodies for the purpose of making fetish–medicines from them. (It will
be seen that the mule beyond the grave has a carbine strapped on to its
pack–saddle; this had carelessly been left loaded and at full–cock,
consequently, when passing the next bush, a twig caught the trigger and
fired the carbine—the bullet hitting the grave. Many a man has nearly
been shot by an ass, but I claim to have been nearly shot by a mule.)]
[Illustration: BRINGING AWAY THE DEAD
After the action at Sikombo’s, 5th August.]
Just as we were leaving the hills, a fairly large party of the enemy
appeared, following us up and jeering at us. Our boys shouted back
at them, and discovered that they were part of Umlugulu’s impi, who
had been detached early in the morning to a distant point in another
direction where they had expected our attack to come from, and they
only arrived on the scene now, to find it was all over. We gave them
a parting long–range volley, which effectually stopped them from
following us any farther, and just as darkness was coming on, we got
out on to the open beyond the mountains.
It was long after dark before we got back into camp. And it was then
a curious contrast to see the men being cheered into camp by those
who had been left as camp guards, as they marched in singing “The Man
who broke the Bank at Monte Carlo,” while here and there between the
flickering camp fires the heavy stretchers could be seen slipping
quietly past to the hospital.
The following was our roll of casualties in this fight. It is curious
what a large proportion of them are officers and non–commissioned
officers. Seven officers, eight non–commissioned officers, and three
troopers.
_Killed_, 5.
Major F. Kershaw, 2nd Battalion York and Lancaster Regiment.
Sergeant Oswald M’Loskie,—
Sergeant William Gibb,—
Sergeant Innes Kerr (all of the Matabeleland Relief Force), and
Battalion Sergeant–Major Alexander Winstree, Matabele Mounted Police.
[Illustration: THE OPERATING TENT
The night after the action was a busy one for the doctors. The bad
wounds inflicted by the enemy’s curious guns and missiles necessitating
very numerous surgical operations. Luckily, the medical staff organised
by Dr. Strong, assisted as it was by two skilful surgeons of the Red
Cross Society, Messrs. Sutcliffe and Redpath, was quite equal to the
occasion.]
_Wounded_, 15.
Sergeant–Major W. M. Josephs, M.R.F., slightly.
Sergeant Arthur E. Brabant, M.R.F., slightly.
Trooper W. M. Currie, M.R.F., severely.
Troop Sergeant–Major Rawlings Dumeresque, M.R.F.
Trooper Alfred John Evelyn Holmes, M.R.F., severely.
Trooper Thomas Gordon, M.M.P.
Captain Windley, B.F.F.
Lieutenant the Hon. Hubert Howard, of Robertson’s Cape Boys.
Lieutenant Robert H. M’Culloch, Royal Artillery.
Lieutenant Norman Warden Fraser, 2nd Battalion Duke of Wellington’s West
Riding Regiment.
Captain Charles H. Fowler, M.R.F.
Corporal Richard Turnbull, M.R.F., and two Cape Boys, slightly.
Lieutenant H. J. Hervey, M.R.F., dangerously (since dead).