The Matabele Campaign

He stood for almost a minute perfectly motionless, like a statue cast in bronze, his head turned from me, listening for any suspicious sound. Then, with a swift and easy movement, he laid his arms and shield noiselessly upon the rocks, and, dropping on all fours beside a pool, he dipped his muzzle down and drank just like an animal. I could hear the thirsty sucking of his lips from where I lay. He drank and drank as though he never meant to stop, and when at last his frame could hold no more, he rose with evident reluctance. He picked his weapons up, and then stood again to listen. Hearing nothing, he turned and sharply moved away. In three swift strides he disappeared within the grass as silently as he had come. I had been so taken with the spectacle that I felt no desire to shoot at him – especially as he was carrying no gun himself.

31st July.– We started on the war–path again. We broke up camp, sending the waggons round to go by Hope Fountain on to the Tuli road, there to meet us two days hence. Colonel Bridge had organised a pack–horse train, and this now accompanied the column, carrying four days’ supplies; but, as events proved, the horses, from overwork and want of food, are scarcely up to the job.

In the evening we started on our march to the eastward, past the fort which had been erected near Babyan’s old stronghold, and a couple of miles beyond this we bivouacked, no fires nor lights being allowed. At 3 a. m. we were roused up and continued the march. There was no difficulty in finding the way, as I have got to know this ground pretty well. The only difficulty was to lead so that the column, which was marching in a big square, ready against an attack at any moment, should be incommoded as little as possible by the frequent thick patches of bush.

Just before dawn we arrived on Purser’s Farm, one of the most delightful spots for a settler that I have seen in this country, but with its homestead and gardens now all ruthlessly destroyed.

Here we formed ready for the attack against the high ground overlooking the Chabez, which lay about a mile to our front. Kershaw, having already been on the ground, was detailed to command the attack, while I was sent round with Coope’s Scouts to have a look in at the back of the position and to see whether a second effective attack could be delivered from that direction. We accordingly got away down to a rocky ridge which overlooked the entrance of the Chabez gorge; from this point we had an excellent view of the back cliffs and their caves which formed the enemy’s lair. And we sent back word to Colonel Plumer that the guns would have a good opening here, and that the Cape Boys would probably be able to deliver an effective attack. Presently we could hear Kershaw’s men opening fire beyond the skyline of the ridge overlooking the gorge, and we could see the enemy swarming out of their caves to meet them. We accordingly worked our way nearer and nearer to them, and for a long time we were unnoticed, but when, after a time, the main body of our force began to appear in the valley, the alarm cry of the enemy could be heard echoing along the heights; still they seemed to consider us too distant to do them any harm, and they took no precaution to hide themselves from our view.

In an incredibly short space of time M’Culloch with his mule–guns was clambering up the rugged koppie on which we were posted, and the two 7–pounders were very soon fitted together and ready for action on the summit of the rocks.

Meantime we could hear heavy firing going on among the heights opposite, but could see very little of what was going on, as most of it was taking place just over the skyline. But, seeing a small knot of niggers clustered on one of the nearer ridges, the artillery let fly a shell or two at them. It was very funny to note the effect of the first one through my telescope. I was watching three men sitting on the rock; one of them was talking eagerly to two others, gesticulating with his right hand and scratching himself with his left. “Bang!” went the gun close to my ear, but of course the little group before me did not hear it; the man talked on and scratched away, it seemed for well–nigh a minute. Suddenly the three of them were sprawling off the rock in different directions, throwing themselves down apparently head first, and then running for their lives! the shell had evidently just passed over their heads. The next two or three shells were similarly a little high, and burst out of sight on the other side of the ridge. It afterwards turned out that they could not have been better sent, for, dropping well into the next valley, they had scattered their charge of shrapnel over the main force of rebels (four hundred men) who were gathered there, and who had not then been found by Major Kershaw’s party. A very few shells were enough for them; they scattered and fled before they even came to blows with our men, merely given them a good target as they retired down into the deep gorges of the lower Chabez River.

This ended the skirmish, and we made our way down to the river and there bivouacked for breakfast.

Then, leaving the dismounted men and guns and baggage, the mounted part of the force went on for a raid towards the cattle valley near Inyanda’s stronghold. We moved along the open valley close under the foot of the Matopo Mountains for about four or five miles, till we came on some cattle–paths leading from the grazing–grounds into the hills. Following up the main one, we (Coope’s Scouts) found ourselves in a very nasty little gorge leading in between the mountains. Leaving our horses under a guard at the entrance, we clambered in amongst boulders and thick jungle that blocked the little path. For about half a mile it was as nasty a place to be caught in as one could wish; then, getting on to rocks where the gorge opened out a little, we could hear the cattle lowing, dogs barking, women and boys yelling, as they evidently drove the herd from the farther end of the valley deeper into the mountains; and, at the same time, along the heights on either side we could see the Matabele gathering and moving to cut us off at the entrance. Seeing it was useless to try and follow the cattle in such a place, we amused ourselves in checking the boldness of the rebels moving on the heights by throwing in our shot among them.

Then we made our way out again, and, remounting, continued our way along the foot of the hills.

Riding along by myself in the bush, my heart jumped with joy when I suddenly came upon the fresh spoor of cattle and of men leading into another small valley; I sounded my whistle and started along on the spoor, the scouts rounding up to me and taking up the trail just like a pack of hounds. After tearing through the bush for a short distance, we presently came upon a kraal in a secluded spot among the rocks; and there were the cattle right before us, with the men driving them! The men did not stop for us to catch them, but took refuge among the rocks, and while one part of the scouts dismounted to cover the operation with their fire if necessary, the remainder circled round the cattle and headed them back from the hills, through the bush, out into the open valley. One or two of the niggers in the rocks fired at us, and as we were advancing towards them to dislodge them, I suddenly felt a blow on my thigh as though someone had struck me with a hammer; it knocked me down, and I turned round, thinking that I must have run against a tree stump, but none was there; and then I realised that I had been struck with a stone covered with lead, fired from one of these big bore guns. It did not even cut me, but my thigh is now a mighty bruise, black and blue all over and very stiff. Our only other casualty was Bodle’s horse, which was struck with a Lee–Metford bullet through the hoof. In the course of the intermittent firing which was going on I had to use “Rodney” pretty freely, but it was for the last time, for, in helping the men to catch some goats among the rocks, I broke his stock, and he was useless to me for the rest of the campaign.

It was now getting late, and though part of our scouts had got among the outlying kraals of Inyanda’s stronghold, we had now to make our way back to camp, some six miles, very pleased with ourselves and very tired.

2nd August.– Started at 5.30 from our bivouac on the Chabez. As we intended to camp the night on the Tuli road at the point where it passes the Umzingwane River (at Dawson’s Store), we sent our pack train direct to the spot, some twelve miles across the valley, while our main body went on to complete yesterday’s reconnaissance. We moved along to Inyanda’s stronghold, which is a lofty mountain of great pinnacles of rock with jumbled boulders, caves, and bushy gorges (vide map, p. 103).

First, we shelled the front of it, where the main kraal was situated, until the rebels evacuated this point, and made their way to the back of the mountain. A flanking patrol of ours to the right was suddenly attacked by a strong party of the enemy, but the patrol held its own well, and extricated itself cleverly from the difficult ground it was in, without any casualties, having killed five of the enemy.

On the left we worked round through the bush to the rear face of the mountain. Here were the caves which formed the grain–stores of the rebels, and after shelling these for a short time, we sent up parties to capture them. The enemy made no attempt to hold the place, but had retired over the back of the mountain by the time our men had got up to the caves; but one of them, firing a parting shot, wounded Captain Lloyd, our signalling officer, through the lower part of the thigh. Once more my pocket–case of bandages came in useful, as there was no medical officer up there with us, but the wound was not a serious one. We found very large stores of grain here, packed in immense neatly–woven grass baskets made with a small mouth which was sealed up with mortar; there were mealies (maize), inyaooti (Kaffir corn), monkey–nuts, rice, dried melons, and Mahoba–hoba fruit, etc., these were all stored in large, dry caves, of which the entrances had been stockaded. We found many cooking–pots, shields, assegais, clothes, and even children’s dolls; these latter were merely little clay models of bodies with short arms and legs, but no heads, and these are said to be of precisely the same pattern as the dolls of the ancients which have been excavated in some of the old ruins of the country.

From Inyanda’s we moved on to the spot where I had formerly located Sikombo’s impi. This we found deserted, but the size and extent of the scherms still standing there showed that at least two thousand men must have been lately in camp in them. We burned these, and, continuing our march through the hills for another mile or two eastward, we came out on the Tuli road just at the spot where it enters the Matopo Pass.

It was here that Brand’s patrol was attacked on the 10th April by overwhelming forces of rebels, and had a very tough fight of it before they succeeded in getting clear of their attackers and in making their way back to Buluwayo. Out of their party of a hundred and fifty, they had lost five killed and fifteen wounded, and some thirty horses killed; the dead had to be left on the ground, and there was only one two–wheeled cart and a Maxim gun on which the wounded could be carried. As no force had been out here since the fight, we halted for a space, and went over the ground, and buried the remains of the killed. It was very easy to follow the course of the fight by the footprints and wheel–marks of the Maxim, which still remained, and by the carcasses of the horses which were lying about the veldt. In the evening we made our way back along the road to Dawson’s Store (ten miles), where our pack–train had been joined by our waggons.

We have supped, and most of us are asleep, although it is not eight o’clock yet.

I have seen in the Fortnightly an article on “The Human Animal in Battle.”

It is interesting, but it doesn’t exactly tally with the impressions gleaned from experiences here. Allowance must be made, of course, for individual constitutions, but the author seems to imply that for the generality, “courage is a powerful exercise of will to overcome the more natural tendency to run away”; but it seems to me to be an exercise that is put into practice very promptly and automatically by some people.

He talks of the soldier as going into a fight with his mind full of the question as to whether he is going to be killed, and if so – why? That he then discovers that fighting is not pleasure, it is not sport; he merely gets dazed, and all his senses are blurred.

As far as I know, men going into action are, as a rule, thinking of anything but getting killed, and they are anything but dazed. If they happen to think at all about anybody being killed, they do so as in ordinary life – and death: they reckon on their neighbours dying, but not on themselves.

There is naturally a sort of excitement which takes possession of one, and which, I think, works on you to the same extent as a couple of glasses of champagne. You forget all fatigue, and your wits are more than usually sharpened.

This brightening of the wits is similar to that which occurs in the case of an actor on the stage. Ask him in the wings, just before he goes on, what are his next few lines, and he probably could not tell you: he steps before the footlights, and at that same moment his mind, I suppose, concentrates itself on the matter in hand, the lines come to him without effort of memory, and his wits are about him to the extent that if one of the “gods” interrupts with a bit of chaff, the actor can rap back a repartee at him that would take him a month to work out in cold blood. In the same way, one’s wits brighten in a fight: one seems to see clearly in every direction at once, to grasp what the enemy is at, and also what is wanted on one’s own side, before, around, and behind one. The mind is clear and not confused, and is buoyed with a feeling of elation and cheery excitement, but with a cruel under–current, close below the surface, which the Kaffirs so aptly describe as “seeing red.”

A little instance in a fight two days ago will illustrate my meaning. A trooper coming back from the firing line with a message to the rear, saw, as he passed, one of our Cape Boys skulking under cover behind a rock. “For’ard on, Alexander!” he shouted cheerily, and picked up a stone to playfully enforce his command. At this moment a Matabele in a cave close by fired and just missed him; he merely altered the direction and the force of his throw, and hurled the stone hard at the cave instead of at the Cape Boy. Then with eager haste, mad with rage, and swearing volubly, he dashed up the rocks to “give the nigger snuff.”

This sudden change from cheery light–heartedness to blood–thirsting rage is one of the peculiarities of the mind during a fight.

Another curious statement in the article is that in action fear plays some game with one’s secretion of saliva, and that an intense thirst results. Speaking for myself, I have been in as great a funk as any man of my weight and years; but I do not recollect any particular thirst connected with it. I have for my part never seen much difference between the thirst of the battlefield and that of the polo–field, the cricket–field, or any other field, except perhaps one, the pig–sticking field, which certainly can produce a thirst peculiarly its own, and one which transcends that of any other pursuit – but even that thirst is not the result of fear.

CHAPTER VIII

Fighting in the Matopos

3d August to 5th August

Scouting in the Matopos – An Enemy’s Lure – A Gallop after a Lady – Umzava, a Lady of Rank, tells us the latest Matabele News – Plumer marches against the Combined Impis under Sikombo – Beresford takes up Detached Party – Beresford’s Party attacked – A Tough Fight – The Main Body makes a General Attack – Our Scouts fight a Duel on the Mountain – A Beautiful but Tantalising View – The Cape Boys to the Fore again – Retreat of the Enemy – Our Return to Camp.

4th August.– To–day we had a delightful patrol. At one o’clock this morning I left camp (at Dawson’s Store on the Umzingwane), with Richardson as interpreter, Jan Grootboom, Jonas, and three other native boys, and went across the valley eight miles to the foot of the Matopos. Our fighting against Babyan, and our subsequent raids along the Matopos, had evidently disturbed the rebels at the eastern end of the mountain. We knew that Sikombo, Inyanda, and Mnyakavulu had retired from their original positions, as marked in my map (p. 103), to a position a little more retired within the Matopos, but we were not sure whether Umlugulu had also joined them in their concentration, and I was now anxious to ascertain this, and at the same time to capture one or two prisoners, if possible, who might serve as guides, or give us information regarding the new positions taken up by the enemy.

As we got near to one of the hills, close to which I had already passed on one or two occasions, we saw the twinkle of a watch–fire, and just before dawn about half a dozen were lit there in succession, but apparently lit by one or two men only, probably as a lure or a blind to us. However, at dawn, we saw what they were, and we passed on viâ the Tuli road. At the point where this road passes through the end of the eastern hills was the scene of Brand’s fight of the 10th of April. Jan Grootboom had been with this column, and gave us a most circumstantial account of the fight, taking special care to show us his own horse where it lay shot dead. Father Barthelemy, who is with our force now as chaplain, was also in this action, and did grand work, so they all say, in helping the wounded and giving the last rites to those who wanted it, whatever their creed.

As we went down the road through the pass, we found the road barricaded with trees which had been felled in such a way as to lie across it; evidently a plan of the enemy’s to prevent Brand’s force from turning back and escaping by the way they came. Just beyond one of these barricades, we found the remains of a white man who had been killed in that fight, a young fellow with light curly hair. The other bodies had been buried during our visit of the 2nd inst.

We went on till we came to the ruins of a roadside hotel and store well in among the mountains. Here we began to find fresh spoor of natives moving about. After a short rest and breakfast, we went in closer to Umlugulu’s stronghold, and by dint of careful climbing about the rocks, and by spying with a good glass, we were able to see not only that the enemy were there, but pretty well how they were located.

So that part of our work was accomplished; but I still wanted to catch a prisoner – though I did not at first see my way to doing it. However, in the course of our prowl, we presently came on fresh well–beaten tracks, evidently of women and children going to and from the outlying country, probably bringing in supplies. This seemed to offer us a chance of catching some of them coming in, although, as the sun was up, we had little hope of being very successful.

But luck was with us again, and we had hardly settled ourselves near the path when I saw a couple of women coming along with loads on their heads. The moment they saw us, they dropped their loads and ran, but Richardson and I galloped for them, and one, an elderly lady, gave herself up without any fuss; but the other, a lithe and active young person, dived away at a tremendous pace into the long grass, and completely disappeared from view. We searched about, and kept a bright look–out for her, but in vain.

Then Richardson questioned the old lady, who proved to be very communicative; she was apparently superintending the supply department of Umlugulu’s impi, and was now returning from a four days’ visit of inspection to the supply base in some of his villages in the district. She was a lady of rank too, being a niece of Umzilikatze, and we should not have caught her, so she said, had her escort not been a pack of lazy dogs. She had four Matabele warriors with her, but they had dropped behind on the path, and should not now be far off. This was good news to us, and, calling up our Boys, we laid an ambush ready to catch the escort.

While this was being done, I happened to catch sight of our young lady stealing away in the distance. She was getting away at a great pace, her body bent double to the ground, taking advantage of every bit of cover, more like an animal than a human being. Away I went after her as hard as I could go, and I had a grand gallop. When she found that concealment was no longer any use, she straightened herself, and just started off like a deer, and at a pace equal to my own; it was a grand race through long grass and bush, the ground gradually getting more rough and broken as it approached the hills, and this told in her favour, for as her pace slackened for want of breath, my horse also was going slower owing to the bad ground. So she ran me right up to the stronghold, and just got away into the rocks ahead of me. I had, of course, then to haul off, as to go farther was to walk into the hands of the impi. The bad part of it was, that she had now got in there, and would spread the news of our being about, and they would probably come out and upset our little plan of catching the party on the road.

Then I made my way back to my patrol, but, finding that the enemy did not come along, we guessed that they must have seen us and were hiding themselves somewhere, and accordingly we spread ourselves out and proceeded along their route for some distance, examining the grass and bush as we went; but we failed to find them. (P.S.– One of our scouts in searching the bush actually came across them, but, being cut off by them, hid himself in the neighbouring koppie till nightfall, when he made his way back to camp and told us how the four Matabele were stalking us when we thought that we were stalking them.)

Eventually we came out on to the plain by a different path than that which we used on entering, and got back to the main body about noon, having been out eleven hours.

The main body had now moved its camp to within a couple of miles of the mountains, preparatory to attacking this end of the Matopos.

The old lady whom we had brought into camp, whose name is Umzava, is a charming old thing, and after a good feed of meat is very communicative.

This afternoon I went for a short ride into the hills with De Moleyns and Pyke; we got three shots at rebel scouts who were watching our camp from the neighbouring heights, and we saw a good number on the hills farther off; so they are evidently on the look–out for us.

Umzava, over a tin of meat this evening, confirms our idea that there are five impis collected in the position within the hills near us. Many of the rebels would like to give in, but their chiefs will not let them. They are all much disheartened by the rapid successive blows that they have had in the Matopos, especially as they had looked upon these mountains as impregnable strongholds. The defeat of Babyan especially had been a very severe blow; a large number of their best men had been killed here, including five chiefs; and Huntwani, their leading induna, had been severely wounded in the leg. The rebels are pretty well off for meat, food, and ammunition, but are getting tired of war, as it prevents the sowing of next year’s crop, and they are beginning to lose faith in the M’limo, who had promised that all the whites should die of rinderpest, instead of which the whites seem to be increasing every day in numbers.

5th August.– The column paraded in the dark at half–past four in the morning, and moved off silently, without lighting fires or pipes, as we were close under the heights occupied by the enemy’s look–outs. It fell to me to act as guide, since I knew something of the country to be traversed and the point where the enemy were posted. It meant passing through the two outer ranges of hills and through a wooded pass into a semicircular valley or amphitheatre, two sides of which were occupied by the rebel impis. At sunrise we arrived in the pass leading into this valley, where we were completely sheltered from view by the bush. The back of the valley was formed by a single high ridge of smooth granite, and from it five offshoots ran down into the valley like fingers from the ridge of knuckles. At the tip of each of these fingers rose rocky peaks among the bush and jungle of the lower valley; these peaks and the fingers themselves form the strongholds of the individual impis. It was evident that if we could get our guns into the commanding position afforded by the knuckles, they would be able to bring an effective fire to bear on each of the strongholds in turn, and thus prepare the way for our storming them from the valley. Our force consisted of the M.R.F., some of the police, Coope’s Scouts, Robertson’s and Colenbrander’s Cape Boys, two mountain guns, the Maxims, Hotchkiss, and rocket tubes, with friendly natives to carry them.

Colonel Plumer, who was commanding the force, now ordered the guns, with a strong escort of one hundred and thirty men under Captain the Hon. J. Beresford, 7th Hussars, to endeavour to gain a position on the ridge, moving up that shoulder of it which might be termed the thumb. With Beresford I sent two of my boys as guides and scouts, and I told Beresford to keep a good look–out in going out, as he might find Inyanda’s impi on the right of his path, while the remaining four were away to his left.

At 7.30 this party moved off to our right front. The main body meantime were to remain concealed where they were until the guns got into position for shelling the strongholds, upon which it would move forward and attack them in succession.

While we were waiting, I climbed up on to a neighbouring koppie to have a look round with my telescope. On almost every hill I could see natives, and on one hill in particular which overlooked the path where I had been scouting yesterday, and by which they evidently expected us to arrive, were collected a large number of their scouts. It was great fun watching them through the glass, as they seemed so close to one, and were entirely unconscious of one’s presence. One or two kept an anxious look–out to the eastward (we were due west of them), while the remainder in a hidden position were having their breakfast. Presently the glint of the arms of Beresford’s party attracted their attention, and their consternation was almost ludicrous to watch; on all the other koppies one could see that the alarm had spread, and without noise or shouting the rebels were stealthily collecting together under arms.

Beresford had been gone for nearly an hour, when presently we heard him open fire; there was a rattle of a few shots, quickly followed by a roar of volleys and rapid sustained fire; this, echoing back from the hills around, developed into a continuous roar, which was added to by the roll of the Maxims and the booming of the bigger guns. This was a sound we had not expected to hear, as we thought there could not have been any very serious attack so early in the day in such an outlying portion of the field, but we had not reckoned upon the rapidity in which the enemy would move this day.