Colley’s body was brought down from Majuba to be buried in the small cemetery at Mount Prospect on 1 March. One officer of the 92nd, the Hon. John Napier, suggested that Colley’s defeat was ‘the result of a series of inexcusable blunders in the art and practice of war’. The Duke of Cambridge concurred, being particularly critical of the mixed composition of the force. Redvers Buller, shocked by Colley’s death, felt Colley had been ‘lost to over confidence’. One young officer in the 83rd Foot, who reached the front only after Majuba, reported that ‘the feeling amongst the troops here is very strong for the poor fellows who were murdered through the ambition and incompetence of our Colley – a politician but a theoretical and paper General’ and that his memory was ‘roundly’ abused.54 Certainly, be it carelessness bred of over-confidence, the failure to entrench, the lack of cohesion within the force, a failure of command on the summit or a combination of all, Colley had paid with his life.
With the Irish Land Bill a more pressing concern for many in the Cabinet, Wood was now directed by the government to obtain an armistice. This was concluded on 6 March with eventual agreement being reached on 21 March 1881 to restore self-government to the Transvaal under the vague formula of retaining the Queen’s suzerainty. The agreement was signed on 23 March. On 24 March the latest reinforcements under the command of Roberts arrived at the Cape and were immediately ordered home: some 16,000 men were in or on their way to South Africa at the time the peace was signed. Wolseley was refused the command himself because the Secretary of State for War, Hugh Childers, said ‘that he could not spare me, that he wanted me here to help him through his reforms etc., and that he had a high position in store for me’. Wolseley was never to forgive Wood for not avenging Colley’s death, though he apparently persuaded Butler to remove ‘two or three pages of vituperation’ of Wood from his biography of Colley.55 Roberts and his coterie were also lastingly critical because they had been equally frustrated in continuing the campaign.56 Certainly, Majuba remained a stain on its honour that the army was determined to remove. Thus, in the first engagement of the South African War on 20 October 1899 British soldiers were urged to ‘Remember Majuba’. A day later at Elandslaagte, with Ian Hamilton in command, Highlanders carried a Boer position with cries of ‘Majuba’. It was then on Majuba Day, 27 February 1900, that Roberts took the surrender of the main Boer field army at Paardeburg.
As for ‘Poor Colley’, as most contemporary soldiers referred to him thereafter, a premature death had brought a highly promising career to a sudden close. The loss of Colley and later of Herbert Stewart, mortally wounded at Metemmeh in the Sudan in February 1885, were blows that Wolseley felt especially keenly. In a way, both men represented the advantages and the disadvantages of the ‘Wolseley Ring’ and its imitators. Wolseley himself was generally successful in co-ordinating the diverse talents of his chosen subordinates in way well suited to colonial campaigning. The problem was that improvisation was no substitute for a proper general staff. Wolseley’s capacity to manage affairs decreased in proportion to the growth in the scale of operations, while the way he operated also militated against the development of initiative in his subordinates and, without him, they sometimes floundered.57 Colley was an outstandingly able strategist and administrator and, while he may have been unlucky, such talents did not make him a great soldier.
Bibliography
Edith Colley first approached J A Froude to write her husband’s biography but, on Wolseley’s advice, he declined. In the event, the task was taken on by another of Wolseley’s adherents, Lieutenant General Sir William Butler. Butler’s The Life of Sir George Pomeroy-Colley (London: John Murray, 1899) remains the only biography and makes reference to Colley correspondence that has apparently not survived elsewhere. The Anglo-Transvaal War, however, has been the subject of a number of modern works. Brian Bond chose to cover the war himself in Brian Bond, ed., Victorian Military Campaigns (London: Hutchinson, 1967), while Joseph Lehmann, The First Boer War (London: Jonathan Cape, 1972) has now been substantially updated by John Laband, The Transvaal Rebellion: The First Boer War, 1880–81 (London: Pearson/Longman, 2005). Majuba is covered in ‘popular’ accounts by Oliver Ransford, The Battle of Majuba Hill: The First Boer War (London: John Murray, 1967) and Ian Castle, Majuba 1881: The Hill of Destiny (London: Osprey, 1996), while there is a booklet from the Boer perspective, V E d’Assonville, Majuba (Weltevredenpark: Marnix, 1996), available in both English and Afrikaans.
The Very Model of a Modern Major General: Garnet Wolseley, c. 1880.
Evelyn Wood in the full dress of a Field Marshal, the rank he attained in 1903.
Redvers Buller, c. 1895, in full dress uniform as Colonel of his regiment, the King’s Royal Rifle Corps, in which he had been commissioned in 1858.
Charles Gordon in Egyptian uniform as Governor General of Sudan.
George Colley, in 1874, wearing the campaign dress Wolseley designed for the Asante campaign, complete with Elcho sword bayonet.
A caricature of Lord Chelmsford by ‘Spy’ for Vanity Fair, 3 September 1881.
Frederic Thesiger, Baron Chelmsford shortly after the Zulu War.
Frederick Roberts (centre) as C in C Madras, c. 1885, while at camp of exercise with General the Hon. Sir Arthur Hardinge, C in C Bombay (left) and General Sir Donald Stewart, C in C India (right).
Frederick Roberts outside his headquarters at Pretoria, 1900.
Herbert Kitchener as Sirdar of the Egyptian Army, c. 1898.
Kitchener as C in C in South Africa, c. 1901.
Chapter 5
Lord Chelmsford
John Laband
A highly charged debate took place in the House of Commons on 14 March 1879, during which the Conservative government’s handling of the campaign in Zululand was vigorously challenged. Earlier, on 22 January 1879, the Zulu army had inflicted a comprehensive defeat on British forces encamped at Isandlwana. It had stunned a country grown complacent that victory was always to be anticipated in wars against ‘savage’ African foes. Blame for the unprecedented disaster had to be apportioned and scapegoats identified. When he rose in the Commons, Mr E Jenkins asked the Chancellor of the Exchequer whether the government proposed to replace the culpable General Officer Commanding in South Africa, Lieutenant General Lord Chelmsford. On being assured that the government did not, Jenkins retorted over continued cries and interruptions from the government benches:
[W]hen any General suffers such a defeat as was suffered by General Lord Chelmsford at Isandula there is a prima facie case of incompetence against him … [S]ome explanation is required from the Government to justify their continuing in command a man who seems to have exhibited a great deal of want of discretion, if not of military misconduct and incapacity. (‘Oh!’)1
It is Chelmsford’s singular misfortune to be remembered primarily for a military defeat at which he was not even present. But the troops the Zulu overran at Isandlwana were under his direct command; he had divided his forces in the face of an enemy whose massed presence he had failed to detect; and he was out of communication scouting while the battle was in progress. Despite his ultimate victory over the Zulu at Ulundi on 4 July 1879, his record as a commander has suffered accordingly in the eyes of his contemporaries and of posterity. Consequently, while it would be nothing short of quixotic to attempt to rehabilitate his bruised reputation, it is still worthwhile to consider why a conscientious, professional general officer of the late Victorian era failed so singularly in his command.
Chronology
31 May 1827
Hon. Frederic Augustus Thesiger born Educated at Eton
31 December 1844
Commissioned by purchase as Second Lieutenant Rifle Brigade
28 November 1845
Exchanged by purchase as Ensign and Lieutenant into Grenadier Guards
27 December 1850
Purchased promotion to Lieutenant and Captain
February 1852
Appointed ADC to Lord Lieutenant of Ireland
8 January 1853
Appointed ADC to C in C, Ireland
18 July 1855
Appointed ADC to GOC, 2nd Division, Crimea
2 November 1855
Promoted Brevet Major
8 November 1855
Appointed DAQMG on Headquarters Staff, Crimea
28 August 1857
Purchased promotion to Captain and Lieutenant Colonel
30 April 1858
Exchanged into 95th (Derbyshire) Regiment, stationed in India
13 July 1861
Appointed DAG British Forces, Bombay Presidency
30 April 1863
Promoted Brevet Colonel 1 January 1867 Married Adria Fanny Heath
21 January 1868
Appointed DAG, Abyssinian Field Force
15 August 1868
Appointed ADC to Queen Victoria
17 March 1869
Appointed AG in India
1 October 1874
Appointed Colonel on the Staff commanding Shornecliffe camp
1 January 1877
Promoted Brigadier General, commanding 1st Infantry Brigade, Aldershot
15 March 1877
Promoted Major General
4 March 1878
Appointed GOC, British forces in South Africa with local rank of Lieutenant General
5 October 1878
Succeeded father as Second Baron Chelmsford
9 July 1879
Resigned command in South Africa
1 April 1882
Promoted Substantive Lieutenant General
4 June 1884
Appointed Lieutenant of the Tower of London
16 December 1888
Promoted General
30 January 1889
Appointed Hon. Colonel of the Sherwood Foresters (Derbyshire Regiment)
7 June 1893
Placed on retired list
27 September 1900
Exchanged Colonelcy of Sherwood Foresters for 2nd Life Guards
9 April 1905
Died in United Service Club, London, and buried with military honours in Brompton Cemetery
Appointed CB, 1868; KCB, 1878; GCB, 1879; GCVO, 1902
Frederic Augustus Thesiger was born on 31 May 1827, the eldest of seven children, to Frederick Thesiger, first Baron Chelmsford (1794–1878), and Anna Maria Tinling (d. 1875).2 The first Baron Chelmsford’s father, Charles Thesiger (d. 1831), was Comptroller and Collector of Customs in St Vincent in the West Indies, where he purchased a large estate. As his only surviving son, Frederick Thesiger studied the law because it was the profession that carried the greatest social prestige and was the best training for administering the estate he expected to inherit. Unfortunately, a volcanic eruption on 30 April 1812 entirely destroyed the St Vincent estate, impoverishing the family, and Thesiger had to devote himself seriously to the law to earn a living. He pursued a distinguished and successful career at the Bar in England, which in turn provided entry into politics. He sat in the Commons as a hard-line Tory, and thereafter in the Lords once he was raised to the peerage on 1 March 1858 as Baron Chelmsford (hereafter Chelmsford Senior) shortly after becoming Lord Chancellor, an office he held again in 1866–67. Chelmsford Senior’s antecedents were relatively humble but as a peer (albeit a landless one) he was fully assimilated socially into the ruling establishment. He died at the fashionable address of 7 Eaton Square, London.3 He left £60,000 (equivalent to £4 million in 2006 using the retail price index),4 which, though certainly a respectable fortune for a patrician professional, was not one on a truly aristocratic scale.5
In the mid-nineteenth century the majority of army officers were recruited from the aristocracy and gentry. Their claim to command was based on their high social position and on their traditional role as the knightly, fighting class but some scions of the ruling class, like Frederic Thesiger (hereafter Chelmsford), entered the army because their relatively impecunious circumstances required them to earn a living. The army was an ideal career because it was highly regarded and could confirm social recognition and status for relative newcomers like the Thesigers.6 In any case, the socially ambitious Thesigers had already established a family tradition in the armed services. One of Chelmsford’s uncles, Sir Frederic, had been a captain in the Royal Navy (not quite as aristocratic as the army, but a good life-long career) and had served as Lord Nelson’s ADC at the battle of Copenhagen; another, George, had been a major in the army. His own father, Chelmsford Senior, had initially served as a midshipman; while his brother Charles would retire a lieutenant general.
On leaving Eton, Chelmsford started his military career in December 1844 as a second lieutenant in the Rifle Brigade. Commission was still largely by purchase. After the Cardwell reforms abolished purchase, competitive examination inevitably opened the army increasingly to the middles classes, and the aristocratic element dropped sharply away thereafter, except in the Household Division and among senior officers (like Chelmsford) who had gained their commissions before abolition.7 Yet even before the Cardwell reforms the Foot Guards and Household Cavalry had been the most fashionable and prestigious regiments in the army.8 Since membership of a fashionable regiment confirmed aspirant social status,9 in November 1845 Chelmsford purchased an exchange into the Grenadier Guards as an ensign and lieutenant. (An officer in the Guards possessed a concurrent regimental and higher army rank up to lieutenant colonel.)10 Purchase was no light financial undertaking, for a commission in the Foot Guards cost £1,260 (some £94,000 today), £810 (£60,000 today) more than a commission in a regiment of Foot, and equipment nearly as much again.11 Later in life Chelmsford would bemoan the large sum invested,12 but it was essential for advancement. The problem was that while a private income was the essential pre-condition of a military career, few regiments were as expensive as the Grenadiers with their extravagant uniforms and high mess bills for lavish entertaining. An officer in the Guards spent up to £900 (£67,000 today) a year above his pay, and failure to match the spending of brother officers offended against the etiquette of the mess.13
For a while Chelmsford sustained the life in London of a fashionable, aristocratic officer with high connections. Between 1849 and 1853 no promotions were filled in the Guards without purchase, so Chelmsford’s promotion to lieutenant and captain in December 1850 cost him at least a further £525 (£36,000), which was the difference in price between his old and new commissions, though unspecified, over-regulation payments of up to double the regulated price were normally agreed upon.14 He then proceeded to Ireland and Dublin Castle, where from February to November 1852 he served as aide-de-camp (ADC) to the lord lieutenant, and then from January 1853 to August 1854 to the GOC. The war with Russia provided Chelmsford with new opportunities. In May 1855 he joined his battalion in the Crimea, and his successful service opened the door to swift promotion. He served as ADC to the commander of the 2nd Division between July and September 1855, and then as Deputy Assistant Quartermaster General (DAQMG) at Headquarters from November 1855 until January 1856. He was present at the siege and fall of Sebastopol in September 1855, was mentioned in dispatches and awarded the Mejidieh (fifth class). He was made a brevet major in November 1855, the standard reward for distinguished service on the battlefield or in a staff appointment, and which conferred a rank in the army higher than in the regiment.
In August 1857 Chelmsford was promoted captain and lieutenant colonel in the Grenadier Guards, probably at well above the regulated difference of price in commissions of £1,150 (£109,000). A Foot Guards officer could exchange into a line regiment at his higher army rank, though to do so was unusual and generally deprecated.15 Nevertheless, in April 1858 Chelmsford exchanged as its lieutenant colonel into the 95th (Derbyshire) Regiment of Foot, which after the army reorganisation of 1881 became the 2nd Battalion, Sherwood Foresters (Derbyshire Regiment).16 He joined his new regiment in India in November 1858 where it formed part of the Central Indian Field Force under Sir Robert Napier that was extinguishing the dying ember of the Indian Mutiny, and was pr
esent at its final of fourteen actions. Chelmsford’s motives for making his exchange into the 95th can only be inferred. It gave him command of a fighting regiment generally stationed abroad (it had been on its way to its next station at the Cape when diverted to India) and distinguished service in action was the surest way to accelerated promotion.
The Grenadier Guards, on the other hand, when not on active service were always stationed in London, and could Chelmsford afford that? Twice on his return to England after service abroad he declined offers of significant home commands: that of Deputy Adjutant General (DAG) at Horse Guards in 1877, and the command of the Western District in 1880. Both times he cited his preference for an Indian command because he believed he had acquired a special understanding of India’s military requirements over sixteen years of service there. Revealingly, though, on the second occasion he gave the additional (and doubtless compelling) reason that the expense would be too great for his limited private income.17 Chelmsford was then living at 50 Stanhope Gardens in South Kensington. Although a good address, Stanhope Gardens lacked the cachet of his father’s house in aristocratic Belgravia.18 On Chelmsford’s death in 1905 his wealth would stand at just over £68,000 (£5 million today), which, although a very comfortable fortune, was not up to the lavish outlay expected of a general officer at a home command. More generous pay and allowances were to be gained by service in India. Officers like Chelmsford from marginally wealthy families habitually sought service there because they could better support the standard of living expected of their high status in British India’s rigidly hierarchical society.19
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