Chapter 13 of 22 · 7243 words · ~36 min read

CHAPTER XIII.

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.