Likewise, Major Tucker made no mention in his report that he felt the camp had been inadequately laagered. Instead he praised Harward’s efforts in giving covering fire to enable some men to escape across the river. These two reports were the basis of Lord Chelmsford’s report to the War Office, which was not received in London until 21 April. Up to this point the circumstances surrounding Harward’s desertion of his men were contained within the regiment. The final death toll was put at seventy-nine. As Colour Sergeant Henry Fredericks had been killed in the incident Booth was promoted to Colour Sergeant to replace him.
Over the next few weeks the regiment moved to Utrecht and joined Wood’s column in its advance on Ulundi. Significantly, Lieutenant Harward was left behind. At Ulundi the 80th formed part of the massive square that finally broke the Zulu fighting spirit, and during the engagement the regiment sustained two dead and five wounded. Amazingly, and despite seeing much action throughout a long military career, the only injury Booth ever sustained was when a stray bullet struck his mess tin, Booth receiving some metal splinters in his face.
At the end of the year, long after the war was over, the regiment was stationed at Pretoria and it was from here, on 20 December, that three survivors of the Ntombe engagement wrote to General Sir Garnet Wolseley to set the record straight and ‘to be of service to Colour Sergeant Booth’. There was a great deal of anger throughout the regiment that had built up over the months. Tucker was asked why he had not previously recommended his sergeant for a medal. To defuse the situation, the newly promoted Lieutenant Colonel Tucker belatedly recommended Booth for the Distinguished Conduct Medal. Wolseley began to ask embarrassing questions and Tucker finally had to explain that the facts would have revealed the ‘far different conduct of Lieutenant Harward’. On 26 December the whole regiment was paraded prior to leaving for England. Wolseley took the salute and, in a most unusual ceremony, presented Colour Sergeant Booth with a revolver, holster, belt and a knife, which were all donated by European settlers. On the same day, Wolseley forwarded his personal recommendation that Booth should be awarded the Victoria Cross. This was an exceptional gesture as Wolseley had been highly critical of the number of VC awards during the campaign.
The 80th then began their long march to Durban, which they reached on 3 April. Meanwhile, on 14 February, as a result of Wolseley’s investigations, Lieutenant Harward was arrested and taken to Pietermaritzburg, where he was charged with two offences. The first of these was ‘having misbehaved before the enemy, in shamefully abandoning a party of the Regiment under his command when attacked by the enemy, and in riding off at speed from his men’. Secondly, he was charged with ‘conduct to the prejudice of good order and military discipline in having at the place and time mentioned in the first charge, neglected to take proper precautions for the safety of a party of a Regiment under his command when attacked’.
The court martial was held at Fort Napier in Pietermaritzburg and was in session from 20 to 27 February. Harward’s defence was that he had only joined the convoy escort the night before and could not form a proper laager with just two wagons. When his command began to disintegrate, he had decided to ride to get help. Much to the surprise of many and the fury of Wolseley, the court acquitted Harward of all charges and he was allowed to return to his regiment; he then resigned his commission and left the army.
Wolseley could not alter the verdict but he refused to confirm the court’s findings, adding his own view:
Had I released this officer without making any remarks upon the verdict in question, it would have been a tacit acknowledgement that I had concurred in what appears to me a monstrous theory, viz. that a Regimental Officer who is the only Officer present with a party of men actually and seriously engaged with the enemy, can, under any pretext whatever, be justified in deserting them, and by so doing, abandoning them to their fate. The more helpless a position in which an officer finds his men, the more it is his bounden duty to stay and share their fortune, whether good or ill. It is because the British officer has always done so that he possesses the influence he does in the ranks of our army. The soldier has learned to feel, that come what may, he can in the direst moment of danger look with implicit faith to his officer, knowing he will never desert him under any possible circumstances.6
When the findings and Wolseley’s comments reached the Duke of Cambridge, Commander-in-Chief of the British Army, he instructed them to be read out as a general order to every regiment throughout the British Empire. In most instances, Harward’s name has been expunged from his regiment’s records. Harward’s abandoning of his men was an action that occurred all too often during the Zulu War; this caused dismay to leaders like Wolseley, Wood and Buller and may well explain the strength of comment following Harward’s court martial.
With his army career in tatters, Harward had little option but to resign his commission, which he did on arriving at King’s Town on 11 May 1880.
On 26 June 1880 Colour Sergeant Booth was summoned from his station in Ireland to Windsor Castle where the queen presented him with the Victoria Cross.7
Booth’s conduct and that of another 80th man, Private Samuel Wassall, who won the only Isandlwana Victoria Cross at Fugitives’ Drift, gave the regiment justifiable pride in what had been a less than glorious campaign.
Through his misplaced confidence and casual approach to defending the camp, Captain Moriarty was held to be to blame for the poorly arranged laager notwithstanding that he had lost his life. His superior, Major Tucker, was deemed at fault for not insisting on the wagons being pushed together when he had voiced his reservations about the laager. Tucker’s subsequent deception to cover up a fellow officer’s cowardice at the expense of recognizing Sergeant Booth caused intense comment and resentment within the regiment. Tucker’s role in this matter does not seem to have affected his career for he retired a major general and remained Colonel of the South Staffordshire Regiment (the amalgamation of the 80th and 38th Regiments) until he died in 1935 at the age of 97.
Hlobane, 28 March 1879
The disaster which befell us was caused mostly by the careless manner of our Commanding Officers.
SERGEANT MAJOR CHEFFINS8
Lord Chelmsford’s plan for a second invasion of Zululand was well advanced but he was deeply concerned that the belligerent abaQulusi Zulus, who occupied the Hlobane hills and territory immediately to the north of the proposed invasion route, could cause him two serious difficulties. Firstly, they could move south in support of King Cetshwayo’s main army and hinder Chelmsford’s relief of the besieged column at Eshowe. Secondly, they could menace and sit across his second invasion route and supply line. Either possibility constituted an unacceptable risk for Chelmsford. Wood appreciated the serious danger posed by the abaQulusi but was uncertain how to neutralize such a powerful force ensconced only 25 miles from his Khambula base.
On 20 March he received an order from Chelmsford to ‘demonstrate’ against the abaQulusi, which in turn would theoretically draw Zulu forces away from southern Zululand and enable Chelmsford’s relief column to lift the siege of Pearson’s camp at Eshowe. Wood saw the logic of the order and Chelmsford’s instruction provided him with the ideal opportunity; he accordingly made preparations to send a strong force to attack the Hlobane stronghold during the night of 27 March. His overall plan was to rout the Zulus there and seize their cattle; a successful action would wrong-foot the abaQulusi as well as deprive any approaching Zulu army of essential food supplies. He proposed to mount a night attack against the Hlobane hills with two independent columns of mounted Colonial troops and black auxiliaries, a force of 1,300 led by Lieutenant Colonels Buller and Russell.
The flat top of Hlobane is nearly 4 miles long and 1½ miles wide; it is generally 1,000ft above the surrounding plain and, apart from two or three precipitous pathways, a skirt of vertical cliffs protects the virtually inaccessible mountain. The link between the upper level of Hlobane and its lower level, Ntendeka, was little more than an illusion; at best i
t was an extremely steep, boulder-strewn knife edge. The location had never been visited by a European and its precipitous descent would severely test Buller and his men.
The operation was ill conceived; even though the defeat at Isandlwana was still fresh in his mind, Wood had not subjected Hlobane to any form of reconnaissance other than a cursory appraisal some two weeks earlier. The routes up and down the mountain were based on Wood’s distant viewing and although he had roughly guessed their location, the exact routes to the top of Hlobane were unknown to the British. Wood’s fatal presumption was that the connecting ridge between the two levels of Hlobane and Ntendeka presented an easy passage; it would prove to be a graveyard for many of Buller’s men. The plan was for the two groups to attack the mountain after dark – Buller’s from the east to take the higher plateau of Hlobane and then seize Zulu cattle, while Russell’s force simultaneously attacked from the west along Ntendeka. Wood believed the final stage of the plan was equally easy to execute – Russell would meet up with Buller and their combined force would drive the captured cattle back to Khambula.
Buller’s force consisted of about 400 mounted men, all local volunteer horsemen except for a few Imperial officers, and 280 black auxiliaries. Russell’s group was made up of approximately 200 mounted troops and 440 black auxiliaries, including 200 Zulu warriors who had defected to the British along with their leader, Prince Hamu, a half-brother of King Cetshwayo. Both groups left Khambula just after dawn on the 27th. They had been issued with extra rations and, unusually, twice the amount of ammunition normally carried on such a raid.
At noon Buller’s men unsaddled for an hour to take lunch and then moved off to the south of Hlobane. Their presence was clearly seen by the abaQulusi on Hlobane who lit a row of signal fires, although the significance of the fires was not realized by Buller who proceeded for several miles beyond Hlobane before making camp. The intention was to give the abaQulusi the impression that the real target of his column was the Zulu army, its location unknown to the British who presumed it was on its way from Ulundi. Buller’s men lit a number of campfires and after dark the fires were stoked to give the abaQulusi the impression that they were staying put. At about 8 p.m. Buller led his men under the cover of darkness back towards the eastern end of Hlobane where they began the laborious task of following a cattle track that led in the general direction of the plateau top.
In reality, Buller had no idea of the close proximity of the approaching Zulu army which was camped only 5 miles from Hlobane and now alerted by the abaQulusi signal fires. Had Buller’s force looked back in the direction of Ulundi rather than concentrating on the route up Hlobane they would certainly have seen signs of the distant Zulus advancing towards them. Likewise, Buller’s colonial scouts proved incompetent and for a crucial few hours seriously neglected their duty by concentrating their attention on their own welfare rather than observing events behind them. His black scouts had seen the Zulus’ fires but had kept the information to themselves, knowing their words were never heeded. Even when a scouting patrol accidentally discovered the Zulu army during the night the British failed to make use of the information. The Border Horse, who were supposed to be part of Buller’s group, had left Khambula later than intended and had inadvertently become mixed with Russell’s force. In the confusion, they and their commander, an experienced ex-cavalry officer named Lieutenant Colonel Weatherley, spent most of the night unsuccessfully trying to find Buller. While searching for Buller, Weatherley’s second in command Captain Dennison and a party of scouts inadvertently discovered the encamped Zulu army. They crept to within a few hundred yards of the Zulu force to assess the situation before quietly withdrawing to report the fact to Weatherley.
Meanwhile, Colonel Wood, together with Captain Ronald Campbell and his personal staff officers and small escort, had spent the night with Russell’s force. As dawn broke they rode out to watch the action on Hlobane, totally unaware of the rapidly approaching Zulu army – which they incorrectly assumed was on its way to oppose Pearson 100 miles away at Eshowe. While riding beneath the towering cliffs at the eastern end of Hlobane they unexpectedly met up with Weatherley and his Border Horse, who were fully aware of the approaching Zulus but uncertain where they should report for the impending clash. At this point a most interesting exchange took place. Weatherley told Wood about the strong Zulu force, still unseen from Hlobane due to the undulating terrain, but now rapidly closing with Wood’s force. Indignantly Wood replied, ‘Nonsense, I have had my men out yesterday, there is no Zulu impi about.’ Dennison was Weatherley’s deputy and he replied, ‘I saw them, I was in fact almost within touching distance of them and judged them to be a strong force.’ Wood retorted, ‘Can’t be, Dennison, you are mistaken.’9 Confused by Wood’s assertion, Weatherley seems to have accepted it; he gathered his riders and they commenced the climb with the intention of joining Buller for his attack across Hlobane.
Wood conveniently omitted referring to this conversation in his memoirs but he did remember that, just as the two groups parted, they were fired upon by Zulu marksmen hiding in a cave near the top of the cattle track that led onto the flat top of Hlobane. Both groups took cover to assess the situation. Wood later pointedly wrote that he, with his staff, pushed through Weatherley’s sheltering men directly towards the enemy, leaving most of the Border Horse 200 yards behind. Within moments a Zulu marksman killed Mr Llewellyn Lloyd, Wood’s political officer, the son of a retired British general and a member of the Natal Legislative Assembly. According to Wood, Campbell impetuously ran forward and brought back Lloyd’s body to a stone cattle kraal where Wood and his staff were sheltering.
Wood alleges that he then told Campbell to order the Border Horse forward, but Weatherley’s men, also under heavy fire from the unseen Zulu snipers, apparently declined to advance as they considered the Zulu position impregnable. Wood later claimed that three of his staff then attacked the snipers’ position after his request for assistance to Weatherley was refused – although this version is strongly disputed by the few Border Horse survivors. In any event, Campbell approached the snipers only to be shot dead as he entered their cave. Captain the Hon Ronald Campbell, Coldstream Guards, was only 30 years old and the second son of the Earl of Cawdor. After quickly burying Campbell and Lloyd, Wood and his remaining escort rode off to Khambula, narrowly escaping the advancing Zulu army; unaccountably, Wood then disappeared for some eight hours before he returned to Khambula. Weatherley and his Border Horse reached the top of Hlobane and set off to find Buller.
During the previous night, the abaQulusi on Hlobane had seen Russell’s column heading towards the western end of the mountain and correctly anticipated that their stronghold was to be attacked from both ends. Knowing that the main Zulu army was approaching, the abaQulusi prepared for the attack with confidence, building stone barriers at each end of Hlobane. Buller’s attack against Hlobane, undertaken in a violent thunderstorm under the cover of darkness, was virtually unopposed; some shots were fired and several boulders were rolled down on the advancing force as they struggled up the steep cattle track, and a number of casualties were sustained. Once on top, Buller left A Company at the head of the path as a rearguard. The abaQulusi had disappeared into a number of underground caves, enabling the British to loot their cattle as they headed towards the far end of the plateau to meet up with Russell. Unbeknown to Buller, Russell had arrived at the bottom of the precipitous face known as ‘Devil’s Pass’ and found his route to the higher plateau of Hlobane virtually inaccessible due to its steepness. He dispatched a messenger to climb up the rocky face to find Buller and advise him not to attempt the route.
Meanwhile, the abaQulusi warriors hiding in Hlobane’s caves could clearly see the main Zulu army now less than a mile distant and steadily closing. They left their caves and were joined by some 2,000 reinforcements that had climbed onto Hlobane from the adjoining Ityentika plateau to the east; combined into a sizeable force, they prepared to attack Buller’s men who were now retreating b
efore them with the Zulu cattle. At the far end of the plateau Buller’s black auxiliaries began forcing the looted cattle down the Devil’s Pass to the lower plateau with the intention of driving them back to Khambula. It was several minutes before Buller became aware of the main Zulu army now approaching Hlobane; his first reaction was to rush the remaining unmounted black irregulars down the precipitous face so that they could escape back to Khambula. He then detailed Captain Barton to take thirty riders from the Frontier Light Horse to quickly recover the body of Lieutenant Williams, killed in the ascent of Hlobane; he was then to find Weatherley and warn him to retreat off Hlobane and retire back to Khambula. As Buller’s remaining force converged towards the top of the Devil’s Pass, the emboldened and reinforced abaQulusi advanced upon them.
The abaQulusi had already routed A Troop who had been left defending the original ascent route; the survivors fled towards Buller’s men who were now being driven towards the western end of Hlobane. It was during the growing chaos that Buller first became aware of the enormity of the danger being created by the main Zulu army moving to encircle Hlobane. He sent two troopers in hot pursuit of Barton with an order for Barton to retreat ‘by the right of the mountain’. Barton was still unaware of the encircling Zulu army when, several hundred yards ahead of him, he saw Weatherley and his force reach the summit rim of Hlobane; at that very moment the two troopers arrived with Buller’s message and Barton presumed from the new order that because he was now facing east, he should continue as previously ordered by Buller. Barton’s misinterpretation of Buller’s ambiguous message was about to have disastrous consequences.
Crossing the Buffalo Page 27