Barton and his burial party rushed to join Weatherley’s force assembling at the top of the cattle track which had earlier brought Buller’s force to the top of Hlobane. Having been rebutted by Wood, and concentrating their attention on the steep climb in front of them, no one in Weatherley’s force had noticed the rapidly closing Zulu army now less than a mile from the beginning of the cattle track. Barton blurted out the awful news and in the minutes that Weatherley, Barton and their men had left to live, they rapidly descended by the same track in the mistaken belief that they could escape back to Khambula if they complied with Buller’s last order. Once off Hlobane they realized their predicament; they had inadvertently ridden towards the main Zulu army who were now less than a quarter of a mile away and rapidly closing. They about-turned to discover that the abaQulusi had come up behind them and they were now surrounded, but they successfully charged through the abaQulusi and rode with all speed towards the nearby saddle between Hlobane and Ityentika Nek in the mistaken belief that they could ride across the saddle and descend to safety down the far side. It was not to be. The Zulus knew that the saddle ended abruptly at the head of a 400ft precipice to the valley below. The Zulus rushed at Weatherley’s trapped force, now in a state of panic, and drove them to the very edge of the cliff that ran along the northern side of Hlobane. In the fierce fighting that ensued, Weatherley, his son and sixty-six men were killed.
The terror of the bloody rout and slaughter caused some men and horses to jump off the cliff. Captains Dennison and Barton somehow managed to lead their horses down the almost sheer scree, followed by a handful of men and some riderless horses, but few made it to the foot of the slope. Those who avoided the pursuing Zulus, including Dennison, then set off towards the camp at Khambula. Barton lost his horse in the descent but, having found a loose but winded horse, followed the other fugitives; he quickly caught up with Lieutenant Poole of the Border Horse who had also climbed down the cliff and was now running for his life. Barton collected up the exhausted Poole behind him but the pair were seen to be in difficulty by a group of fleet-of-foot Zulus who gave close chase; a grim pursuit ensued over the next hour but on their weakening horse the outcome was inevitable. The Zulus overhauled and killed the pair 8 miles from Hlobane, on the bank of the Manzana river. The following year a Zulu who claimed to have killed Barton escorted Wood to the scene. The two bodies were found and buried on the river bank; numerous attempts have since been made to find the graves but the location has not been traced.
Meanwhile on Hlobane, both Buller and Russell’s columns simultaneously experienced a state of confused alarm; with the Zulus bearing down on them, both could clearly see that they were on the verge of being surrounded by an overpowering force. At this point Russell received an ambiguous message from Wood which would save Russell’s life and those of his men. Unsure whether Buller and Russell had seen the approaching Zulus, Wood tried to warn his two commanders and sent a written order to Russell mistakenly ordering him to move immediately to Zunguin Nek 5 miles from the scene. The message read, ‘Below the Inhlobane. 10.30 A.M. 28/3/79 There is a large army coming this way from the south. Get into position on Zunguin Nek. E.W.’ Wood had intended that Russell should remain on Ntendeka to support Buller down the Devil’s Pass, but had confused his locations. Russell did not hesitate for a moment: he and his men departed as fast as they could ride – controversially abandoning Buller and his men to the encircling Zulus.
So steep was the descent down the Devil’s Pass that many of Buller’s men and horses fell to their deaths; for the survivors, their ordeal was to become even more serious as the Zulus from the main force now reached the lower reaches of the pass and began closing in on both sides of the fleeing men. The Zulus began firing at point-blank range into the desperate soldiers while others darted among them, stabbing and spearing them to death. Trooper Patterson had managed to lead his horse safely down the pass and had just mounted up when he was speared from his horse and left defenceless. As the Zulus closed to kill the injured rider, Trooper Whitecross drove them off by using his rifle as a club. Patterson was hauled to safety and both troopers lived to tell the tale. As more survivors reached the bottom of the pass, the remaining Zulus closed with them. In the midst of the life-and-death struggle, a young trooper of the Frontier Light Horse, 16-year-old George Mossop, had earlier abandoned his horse on the upper plateau of Hlobane and scrambled down the steep face to join his colleagues fighting at the bottom of the pass. Buller shouted at the youth to recover his horse, knowing that without a mount the young trooper would be lost. Mossop dashed through the fighting back up to the top of the Devil’s Pass. He later wrote of the fight:
Zulus, crawling over the huge rocks on either side, were jabbing at the men and horses. Some of the men were shooting, and some were using clubbed rifles and fighting their way down. Owing to the rocks on either side the Zulus could not charge. The intervening space was almost filled with dead horses and dead men, white and black.10
On regaining the plateau Mossop saw his horse, Warrior, some 40 yards away near the cliff edge. He ran to the horse, only to find himself being encircled by Zulus and with only one other unhorsed trooper for company. The two men moved towards the sheer cliff edge. In terror at what was about to befall him, the other trooper shot himself:
… placing the muzzle of his carbine in his mouth he pulled the trigger. A lot of brains and other stuff splashed on my neck.11
Mossop was now trapped. The only alternative to imminent death at the hands of the Zulus now stared him in the face; with seconds to spare he jumped off the cliff with his horse. Both bounced down the cliff face and finally fell into a clump of trees and boulders. Miraculously both Mossop and his horse survived the jump, although Mossop saw that Warrior was bleeding profusely from injuries sustained in the fall; thankfully the area was free of Zulus so Mossop adjusted the saddle to staunch the horse’s blood before mounting up. By evading the Zulus, who were intent on dealing with Buller’s men higher up, both Mossop and Warrior were able to escape from Hlobane and the pair reached the safety of Khambula later that day. Mossop nursed his dying horse through the night but Warrior died as dawn broke.
At the base of the pass there was little that Buller or his surviving officers could do other than hold their men together and pour rapid fire into the attacking Zulus. Buller and Major Knox-Leet repeatedly rode back into the fighting to rescue men whose horses had been killed or to help men in danger of being isolated by the Zulus. Lieutenant Metcalfe Smith later wrote:
I was on foot, my horse having been shot. When we got down a little way a great many Zulus rushed after us, and were catching us up very quickly. The side of the mountain was dreadfully steep and rugged and there was no pathway at all. They were firing and throwing their assegais at us while they rushed upon us.12
With hundreds of Zulus converging on the Devil’s Pass the fighting was soon over and only those riders who had reached the lower plateau with their horses had any chance of getting away; those on foot soon fell. The harrowing experience continued for the mounted survivors who were chased for several miles by the jubilant Zulus. It was a long and frightening trek for those fleeing for their lives as any horse unable to maintain the pace during the first few miles was quickly overhauled and its rider slain. Buller arrived back at Khambula after sunset, to learn that several of his men whom he had seen escaping were still missing. Typical of Buller, he took a fresh horse and went in search of his men; they all returned safely just before midnight.
By attacking Hlobane at all, Wood and Buller had embarked upon a suicidal expedition. All the lessons from the recent disaster at Isandlwana were disregarded; the reconnaissance was scant and the scouting equally negligent. No one taking part in the attack knew the layout of Hlobane and, as at Isandlwana, the scouts failed to detect a Zulu army camped only 5 miles distant. Even when Weatherley informed Wood of the proximity of the Zulus, Wood scornfully dismissed his timely warning. Collectively Wood and Buller provoked the second g
reatest disaster of the war, yet the news and implications of the defeat at Hlobane were successfully screened by the British victory at Khambula the following day, just as the successful defence at Rorke’s Drift screened Isandlwana.
Wood and his escort survived to tell the tale. They managed to remain ahead of the encircling Zulus and escaped back to Khambula. Wood’s movements for the remainder of the day have never been satisfactorily explained. He arrived back at Khambula after nightfall.
When the exhausted Dennison reached the safety of Khambula he saw to his men’s welfare before allowing himself to be cared for by the mess staff. At dawn the following day he went to Weatherley’s tent with the intention of preparing a casualty list, just as Buller arrived to congratulate him on his survival. In their conversation Buller observed that it had been unfortunate that the presence of the Zulu army had been unknown. Dennison retorted that it had been known and furthermore, he had personally reported the army’s presence to Wood. Clearly taken aback by Dennison’s allegation Buller commented, ‘I believe you, Dennison, what a sad mistake, but say nothing for the present and lie low.’ It is evident that Wood tried to hide the debacle of Hlobane behind his victory at Khambula; nothing was officially said that could have alerted the British press to the disaster and for several weeks the tale of Hlobane went untold. Even Chelmsford was uncertain what had happened and in a dispatch to the Secretary of State for War he wrote that he had ‘not observed in Col. Wood’s despatch any reference to the reason why he considered it desirable to attack [Hlobane] on the 28th’. But the majority of the Hlobane casualties were Colonials and with the inevitability that accompanies cover-ups, the story of the disaster was soon taken up by the Natal press; Wood and Buller came in for ferocious criticism but the press had little influence on the matter and Wood calmly rode the storm by blending the two battles into the successful account of his great victory at Khambula.13
Buller reported to Wood that there were too many instances of bravery at Hlobane to mention particular cases or individuals. Wood thought otherwise and in due course he made a number of recommendations; both Buller and Major Knox-Leet were awarded the Victoria Cross, though Knox-Leet uniquely applied for the medal,14 and Corporal Vinnicombe was awarded the Distinguished Conduct Medal. Following pressure from Wood, two further VCs were awarded three years later to Lieutenant Lysons and Private Fowler, as were awards of the DCM to Privates Walkinshaw and Power, and Trooper Brown. It was previously thought that Lieutenant Browne, on loan to Buller from the 1/24th Regiment, had received a VC for bravery at Hlobane but it is now known that Browne’s VC was awarded for his bravery at Khambula the following day. The debate arose because the inscription on the VC has Khambula’s date juxtaposed with ‘Inhlobana’.
Khambula, 29 March 1879
I must tell you of our glorious victory at Khambula Hill.
PRIVATE JOHN SNOOK15
By the following afternoon the British troops remaining in the Khambula camp began to hear rumours of the unbelievable disaster that had befallen Buller’s force. Until this point, the prevailing atmosphere throughout the camp was one of absolute confidence; rumours had long since been circulating that the Zulu army might seek to attack the Northern Column and the men enthusiastically welcomed the prospect of avenging Isandlwana. That afternoon the Hlobane survivors began arriving back at Khambula camp in their ones and twos; many were wounded, all were deeply shocked. These were men who had earlier set out with boundless confidence to attack the Zulu stronghold. Now the full extent of their loss was abundantly clear:
[T]he men [came] into camp in twos and threes, without coats, rifles, and ammunition belts, having thrown them away to lighten themselves for running, when their horses were shot or lost. Then there were two on a horse, and then perhaps you would see an officer come in mounted behind a trooper, glad to get in anyhow. Now and again, as the men came into camp, you would hear someone ask where was so-and-so, and the answer would be ‘Left behind’, ‘He’s gone’.16
With such a large Zulu force now so close to Khambula, Wood correctly expected that an attack on his position was imminent and that evening everyone in camp completed their preparations for the expected battle. All knew that the Zulu army would heavily outnumber them.
For the attack against the Northern Column, King Cetshwayo again gave command to Ntshingwayo kaMahole, the victor of Isandlwana; he was supported by Chief Mnyamana kaNgqengelele of the Buthelezi. The brutal lesson learned by the Zulus at Rorke’s Drift had convinced King Cetshwayo that the British force should not be attacked in an entrenched position; rather, they should be attacked on the move or between camps. King Cetshwayo was also aware that his warriors were supremely confident and would relish the opportunity of attacking the British and perchance forcing the invaders to retreat back to Natal. He accordingly warned his warriors, ‘Do not put your faces into the lair of the wild beasts for you are sure to get clawed.’17
The British position at Khambula was positioned on the highest point of a long ridge that itself was overlooked by a far range of surrounding hills, known locally as Nqaba kaHawana (Hawana’s place of refuge). It was an ideal position to defend as it dominated the immediate and lower surrounding area for more than half a mile. Only 3 miles from the camp was a forested area with abundant wood for campfires, and a number of freshwater springs around the camp led into streams that formed the headwaters of the White Mfolozi river. A rocky cliff protected the camp to the south and the flat terrace leading from the camp to the cliff was used as a cattle pen. The main headquarters of the camp was built on a small knoll or natural rise in the ridge, which was fortified with an earthwork redoubt. Immediately next to the redoubt was the main camp area which consisted of two strongly entrenched wagon laagers.
The unexpected defeat at Hlobane had seriously affected the morale of Wood’s Boer volunteers and many of the black auxiliaries thought better of staying and deserted during the night. The British element of Wood’s force were unaffected by Hlobane and continued to look forward to the possibility of a major battle; the 90th Light Infantry and seven companies of the 13th Light Infantry were supported by a total of six 7 pound guns, two rocket troughs, and over 500 mounted men; a combined force of 2,086 well-trained troops. Two guns were placed in the redoubt itself; the remainder were located on the high ground between the redoubt and the camp from where they could cover any Zulu advance.
Hardly slowing for the battle at Hlobane, the Zulu army continued its march towards Khambula and spent the night 10 miles from the British position along the banks of the White Mfolozi river. Early the following morning they began their advance towards Khambula in five well-spaced-out columns. Towards midday the whole Zulu army stopped to undergo their pre-battle purification rituals followed by an address from Chief Mnyamana; he gave a timely reminder to the regiments that King Cetshwayo’s order was not to attack the British in an entrenched position; they were to seize the camp cattle which would lure the soldiers away from their wagons and tents.
The British prepared for the forthcoming battle by taking an early lunch and striking the camp tents. Wood expressed his concern that the Zulus might bypass Khambula and instead attack the unprotected European settlement at Utrecht but, by early afternoon, it was obvious to all that Khambula was the Zulus’ objective. As at Isandlwana, the Zulus were advancing on a front estimated by Wood to be 10 miles wide and they maintained the formation until it divided into the classical ‘horns’ formation. The right horn, consisting of the uVe and iNgobamakhosi regiments, moved towards the north of the camp; the left horn, the uKhan-dempemvu, uMbonambi and uNokhenke regiments, were advancing from the south; and the main chest of the Zulu army slowed to take up position about 1 mile west of the redoubt. It is still a mystery why the Zulu commanders permitted the attack to take place against such a strongly fortified British position; this flew in the face of the king’s orders and it must be presumed that the enthusiasm of the mass of warriors overruled the orders of the commanders. It is also possible that the
Zulus interpreted the tents in the camp being collapsed as an indication that the British were about to abandon their position.18
The right horn approached from the north across open ground well out of rifle range and swung round towards the British position. To the south the left horn ran into unexpected difficulties: their approach to the camp followed the course of a stream, which was wet and marshy. Within moments the leading warriors became bogged down in knee-deep mud and their advance stalled less than a mile from the camp. Chief Ntshingwayo’s intention was for both horns to join up on the ridge level with the camp and, with the British surrounded, attack simultaneously – but each horn was still out of sight from the other. The right horn to the north presumed the left horn had made matching progress and by 1.30 p.m. the right horn had advanced to within 800 yards of the British position where they paused to regroup. From his scouts’ reports, Wood perceptively assessed that the left horn was bogged down; making a brave tactical decision to provoke the right horn into attacking before the left horn could emerge from the marsh, he ordered Buller to take about 100 of his mounted men to fire point-blank volleys into the packed ranks of the waiting uVe and iNgobamakhosi. Notwithstanding the appalling disaster of the previous day, these riders were well practised in the tactic of provocation and rode out to within 100 yards of the Zulus. Buller’s men calmly dismounted and fired several fast and deadly volleys into the packed ranks of chanting and stamping warriors; this action was too much for the Zulus who immediately charged the horsemen.
Crossing the Buffalo Page 28
