CHAPTER XThe Situation in Matabeleland and Mashonaland16th June to 28th AugustWe open Communication with the Rebels in the Matopos regarding their Surrender—Rhodes commences the Peace Indabas—Imperial Troops arrive in Matabeleland—The State of Affairs in Matabeleland—I am on the Sick–List—Stout–Heartedness of the Rebels—Opinions on the Peace Negotiations—Our Supply Difficulties—The Origin of the Outbreak in Mashonaland—Difficulties of Supply in that Country—Early Defence Measures—The Relief of Salisbury by the Imperial Troops—Sir Frederick Carrington’s Task—What kit to take: I. On yourself; II. On your horse.I said that when I left camp to come into Buluwayo, on the 10th, it seemed a good opportunity for accepting the surrender of the rebels, if they liked to come in. They had suffered a succession of severe blows, and, while still in a state of disruption consequent upon them, would probably be only to glad to surrender. But if they were left to themselves for a short time, they might reorganisetheir forces and continue to give endless trouble in the Matopos, which might mean a great deal more expense to us of time and men.So, before leaving camp, I had made a few preliminary arrangements, in order that no time should be lost in opening communication with the rebels. We had, as a prisoner, Inyanda’s mother, and I sent her with a few men to the site of his kraal, which was close under the mountain where his people still hung out. There the men built a small hut for her, gave her a supply of corn and meat, and an old half–witted woman to grind the corn for her, and, hoisting a big white flag on the tree above her hut, they left her to be called for. As they came away, they shouted to the rebels up on the hill, telling them that if they wanted peace, they might come down and talk to the old lady, as she would give them all information about it.It was necessary to do something of this kind to induce the natives to believe anything we said on the subject of peace; they were too suspicious of a trap if we went and tried to talk to them ourselves. This plan eventually succeeded; her people came down to talk to the old woman, took her away with them to consult with the chief, and finally sent messengers, carrying the white flag, to our camp, to say that they were ready to talk.ill251The Peace Indaba with the Matopo RebelsMr. Cecil Rhodes carried out the peace negotiations with the Matabele chiefs. He was assisted by Dr. Sauer (on his left) and Capt. Colenbrander (on his right), and accompanied by Mr. Stent (war correspondent of theCape Times). These officers went unarmed among the rebels, in order to show their peaceful intent. After five weeks, the negotiations resulted in the surrender of the chiefs.Unfortunately, I was not able to have any further say in the matter myself, as I was now down with dysentery, and on the sick–list. But, eventually, on the 22nd August, Cecil Rhodes, with Dr. Sauer and Captain Colenbrander, went into the Matopos to meet the rebel leaders, near the koppie where Kershaw was killed on the 5th.Jan Grootboom, the native scout, was sent on into the hills to summon the indunas, and presently they appeared, following Grootboom, who carried the white flag at their head, with an air of immense importance. Among the chiefs were Umlugulu, Sikombo, Somabulana, Hliso, Manyoba, Malevu, Inyanda, Babyan, and over thirty other indunas. Rhodes sat on an ant–heap, with Dr. Sauer on his left, Colenbrander on his right, and Stent, of theCape Times, just behind him.Rhodes got up to salute the chiefs in their own language, and stood out in the centre to do so; all were in silence awaiting his opening word. He stood, and paused, and, smiling, had to turn and ask, “Whatisthat word?”[It was “Umhlope,” which is the usual salutation of peace after war.]Somabulana then opened the indaba (conference), and, as spokesman for the Matabele, said that they had been driven to rebellion chiefly by the official bullying on the part of the Native Police. When he had done, Sikombo went on to charge five of the Native Commissioners with abuse of their powers. The chiefs wound up by saying they merely wanted justice, and would be glad to end the war. Rhodes promised there should be an alteration as regards the Native Police, and said that if they intended now to lay down their arms, their complaints would all be taken into consideration. Sikombo laid down his gun and assegai at Rhodes’ feet, and said that this indaba represented the nation “as its eyes and ears,” and that all they wanted was to live at peace with the whites. Then he was asked why it was that the Matabele, in breaking out, had exceeded the usual rules of war, and had murdered women and children? And he said it was because white men had been reported to be doing the same thing. It was then pointed out to the chiefs that nothing could be done unless they and all their people laid down their arms; and the chiefs agreed to bring all their people out of the hills within the next few days, and so that conference ended.[P.S.—It was not till 13th October, after many further conferences, that a final settlement was come to.]A squadron of the 7th Hussars now arrived at Buluwayo, under Major Ridley, having completed a long patrol through the Guai district, finally breaking up such small parties of rebels as remained there, and bringing about their general surrender.The situation in Matabeleland now is as follows:—The whole of the north of the country is clear and peaceful; in the south the rebels are treating for peace in the Matopos; but, in the east and north–east, bodies of them are still massed in the outlying districts. In the east, in the Belingwe district, about a hundred miles from Buluwayo, Wedza still remains in active rebellion, supported by various small chiefs occupying mountain strongholds. In the Selukwe district, just south of Gwelo, two chiefs, Monogola and Indema, still resist all efforts to reduce them. To the north–east of Gwelo, in the Maven district, at least one strong impi is collected; and the Somabula forest, north–west of Gwelo, and a hundred miles north–east of Buluwayo, is reported to be full of rebels. On the borders of this forest is the great grain district belonging to Uwini, who hasseveral different tribes dependent on him for their supply and direction. Moreover, M’tini, who had been defeated in July at Taba–si–ka–Mamba, has retreated on to the Shangani, and now has his impi in full work there, under the orders of M’qwati, the local M’limo, and it maintains small posts on all the chief paths to prevent well–disposed natives from coming in to surrender or to take refuge with us.Colonel Paget, with a column of Imperial troops (7th Hussars and Mounted Infantry), is moving through South Matabeleland,viâTuli and Victoria, to Gwelo.Such is the situation to–day (22nd August); and Ridley’s column of 7th Hussars and Mounted Infantry, having completed their work in the Guai district, are at Buluwayo, and will now be sent against the Somabula. And, were I well enough, it is probable that I should be sent in command; but here I am on my back, limp and washed–out, and really thin this time! And only a short time ago I was thinking that I had never been so fit in my life, and certainly never burnt so brown a colour! I am having a poor time of it, but it is not so bad as it might be; Sir Frederick is more than kind to me, and spends all his leisure alongside my bed, at all times ofthe day and at odd hours of the night, telling me how things are going on, and soothing my disappointment at not being able to get out into the field. Then, I am wonderfully lucky in having an excellent doctor, Dr. Strong, and a most excellent cook—not that I require much, but that little has to be of the right kind. This is not a very large world, and the lady who runs the neighbouring restaurant, being told to supply me with invalid food, came in to see me, to inquire into my symptoms herself, as she had formerly been a hospital nurse, and therefore thoroughly understood what one ought to take; but before becoming a hospital nurse, she had learned the art of cooking in the kitchen of the Powells of Dorking, our cousins. Having made this discovery, and having thereby gained a personal interest in me, she has exerted herself to the utmost, and has fully succeeded in supplying me with the most appetising food possible under the circumstances.26th August.—Ridley’s column started to–day for the Shangani, and though I am now feeling quite well, the doctor would not allow me even to think of going with it. I have seldom felt so down about my luck before.Meantime, in the Matopos, negotiations arestill going on about the surrender, but the rebels do not seem over anxious to give in. At an indaba to–day, a hundred young warriors, with two chiefs, met Cecil Rhodes and party, and talked to them pretty cheekily. They said that unless they had their rights they had no desire to come in. All these men carried rifles and bandoliers full of cartridges.One of them, named Karl Kamarlo, had been captured by us in the early days of the outbreak, had been tried and been sentenced to be shot; he was taken outside the town by two troopers, and was there shot by them. One shot struck him in the forehead and apparently came out at the back of his head, and the other struck him through the shoulder and he was left lying on the ground. When the burying party came out for him, they could not find him. It appears that the bullet which struck him on the head was not strong enough for his skull, and merely glanced round under his scalp without breaking the bone, and came out through the skin at the back, giving the appearance of a shot clean through his head. By this wound the man was merely stunned, and when his executioners had retired, having, as they thought, carried out the penalty ofthe law, he got up and walked off in the other direction. It is now said that he intends to sue the Company for assault and personal injury! Another man present at the indaba asked if our doctor could do anything for him, as in the fight of the 5th he had been standing almost in the line of fire of the Maxim, and in one instant had received nine wounds in his side and leg, most of them very slight; he had been practically crimped as if with an iron rake.There seem to be various opinions here as regards the surrender. One says that the rebels should be made to surrender entirely unconditionally, and should only be allowed to do so on condition of their giving up their arms, and such of their number as are guilty of murder. Others say that that is right enough in theory, but if the rebels refuse, as they very probably would, it means part of the force trying to fight them during the rainy season, while the other part will have to be withdrawn from the country owing to inability to supply them. Sickness and reverses will probably result, and in the end the murderers will not have been caught; whereas, if told that they can now surrender and reoccupy their kraals and sow their crops, the capture of the murderers and the thorough armamentcan afterwards be effectually carried out by the police. And the police, by occupying fortified posts in all the grain–growing districts, will thus have the whip hand of the natives, as they can prevent them from sowing or from reaping any crops at will.This question of supply and transport is very pressing. We are using all the transport we can lay our hands on, and yet we can only manage to keep our present wants fairly well supplied; while the reserve which we want to lay down, ready for the rainy season, is only being formed at a very slow rate. Towards the end of November the rains will set in, the roads then become impassable, and the mules die of horse–sickness. We therefore want to lay down a sufficient reserve of food in the meantime to carry us through the four months at least of rains; but we cannot get contractors to tender for the transport, and it is very difficult to purchase even in Cape Colony. The oxen up here are all dead, and ox waggons coming up from the Cape are not allowed to return thither, for fear of spreading the rinderpest. The Transvaal border touches ours near Tuli, and we might get supplies in that way but the Boer Government will not allow the export of foodstuffs from their country, fearing famine for themselves.ill-261Routes to Matabeleland and MashonalandThe above sketch shows the approximate distances that supplies had to travel from Cape Town in order to reach the respective centres at Buluwayo and Salisbury—Cape Town to Buluwayo, 1487 miles; Cape Town to Salisbury, 2050 miles.Meanwhile, great events have been going on in Mashonaland. Rebellion, as I said before, broke out there on the 16th June. Bands of Matabele rebels had made their way to Mashonaland after the first defeats near Buluwayo. They spread reports among Mashonas that the whites had allbeen killed in Matabeleland, and that now was the time to rise and similarly put an end to their rule in Mashonaland; and they threatened that, in the event of the Mashonas not rising, the whole of the Matabele nation under Lobengularedivivuswould shortly be down on them. A few Native Commissioners in touch with their people might have counteracted these reports, but none did so, and consequently rebellion broke out, as it had done in Matabeleland, with the sudden and brutal murders of whites—men, women, and little children—in all parts of the country.Townships went into laager, local defence forces were organised to the number of eight hundred men, Judge Vintcent being Commandant–General. Rescue patrols went out to bring in outlying settlers and miners. But here again arose the insurmountable difficulty of transport. There was only one road, namely, thatviâUmtali to the coast at Beira, by which food could come. This road extended for over 200 miles across the veldt, and then met the railway in Portuguese territory which partially connected it with the coast; thus the whole distance for Mashonaland supplies to come was: Cape Town to Beira, 1700 miles; by river, 50 miles; by rail, 100 miles; by road, 200 miles; total, 2050. This road was interceptednear Umtali, and held by a powerful tribe of rebels under Makoni.Reserve supplies in the country did not amount to anything dependable, and could only last the defenders for a few weeks at most.The rebels in Mashonaland occupied chiefly the districts round Salisbury and the Salisbury–Umtali road, and the district east and south–east of Charter. They are by nature far less warlike than the Matabele, and are not given to attacking in the open, but content themselves with murdering helpless farmers, waggon and other small parties, and then retire to their fortified kraals and cave strongholds if attacked.On the 18th June, Captain Turner, who was on his way through Mashonaland with a troop of fifty Natal volunteers for Matabeleland when the Mashonas broke out, went to the rescue of White at the Beatrice Mine, but was attacked in some narrow gorges by masses of rebels, and compelled to retire with a loss of three killed and three wounded.On the 19th June, Captain Nesbit made a very plucky dash with thirteen men to rescue some white settlers, including two women, at Mazoe, thirty miles north of Salisbury. He had to fight his way through the rebels to get there, and the party had a running fight of it for nearly the whole wayback against heavy odds, the enemy rushing up to within a few yards at the time. Gallant work was done on this occasion by Messrs. Ogilvy and Harbord, who acted as advanced guard to the party. The waggonette in which the women were conveyed had been “armour–plated” with sheets of corrugated iron, but nearly all the mules were killed or wounded. Five men were killed and five wounded, and eight horses killed. But in the end the gallant little band got into Salisbury.Captain Bremner, 20th Hussars, whose services had been placed at the General’s disposal, was, in accordance with Sir Frederick’s directions, making his way to Salisbury to act as staff officer there. He was caught by the rebelsen routeand killed, together with one or two settlers at whose house he was resting. The loss of this useful officer was a great blow to us, especially at this juncture, when things wanted organising in Mashonaland.Towards the end of June the following relief parties arrived in Mashonaland from Matabeleland:—namely, Beal with 133 men, Watts 100, White 65 (Grey’s and Gifford’s Scouts); the latter column especially made a wonderfully rapid march, and did some dashing work. And from the Cape there arrived,viâBeira, 500 Imperial troops underColonel Alderson. These consisted of 240 mounted infantry, 100 R.E. and R.A. and M.S.C., 150 West Riding Regiment, 50 York and Lancaster Regiment.Their disembarkation and transport by rail was effected under great difficulties, owing to want of proper tugs, lighters, wharves, rolling stock, etc. One lot stuck in the mud in the Pungwe River for twenty–four hours; a train ran off the line and killed several of the horses, another train collided with the wreckage, and Colonel Alderson and others on the engine had to jump for their lives. But in spite of all obstacles the force made its way rapidly into Mashonaland. It turned and attacked Makoni’s position, defeating him and taking his fortified kraal; 200 of the enemy were killed, 350 head of cattle and a number of prisoners taken, our losses being 4 killed and 5 wounded. Among the killed was Captain Haynes, shot while escalading the wall of Makoni’s head kraal. The force then went on attacking various other tribes along the road, establishing frequent fortified posts as it went, and in this way secured the safety of the supply route to Salisbury, and brought much–needed supplies into that place.Alderson is now in local command of all the forces in Mashonaland, receiving his instructionsfrom the General here by telegraph. By means of strong columns he is now breaking up the rebels in various directions, and forcing them out of their strongholds. But this latter is a particularly dangerous and unpleasant work, since the strongholds in Mashonaland consist, as a rule, of koppies undermined in all directions with caves and crannies, in which a very few determined men can hold their own against almost any number. But Tommy Atkins is reported to be quite equal to the occasion, and apparently delights in the novel form of getting killed. Alderson’s total force amounts to 2200 men and 580 horses.Sir Frederick Carrington’s management of this extended force operating in a country which is equal in size to Spain, France, and Italy put together, is like a man playing on a small piano to a large room full of people. Our room is over 600 miles in length, and the piano a very small one, because the doorway (the transport and supply) is too small to admit a larger one. The piano’s notes are eight small field columns, seven laagered towns, and twenty–four fortified posts. He plays them by telegraph from his music–stool at Buluwayo, and has to make them reach every corner of the room. He burns to be out himself with one or other of the columns, but it cannot be; he has tosit here to read the music and to play the notes accordingly, to pull the ropes, to consult with the other heads who have to be consulted, and to be at the end of the wire for communication with the High Commissioner at the Cape.Extract from a Letter Home“28th August.—.... Your two letters of 17th and 24th July just received. Yes, you are quite right. We would do much better here if we had three times the number of men.But—we could not by any possibility feed them if theywerehere. Even to feed our present force through the approaching wet season, when roads will become impassable, requires four million pounds of food extra to what we have got here and on the road—i.e.600 extra waggons; and we cannot get anybody to tender for the job. There are so few oxen left in South Africa. That is why we have to go on as best we can with this little force.••••••“You ask about our climate here. Well, what is your ideal of a perfect climate? Because that would about express it. Bright sun always, breeze all day, thermometer 70° in the shade at midday, cool nights. Doors and windowsalwaysopen. In town the dust is the only drawback to it all.In camp there is not a tent or any shelter, except a few branches to keep off the wind. We all live entirely in the open, and it is delightful.••••••“I am keeping an illustrated diary for you.”It may be of use, in case of future expeditions of this kind, to jot down what kit I have found best for the work.I.On yourself.Hat.—A “cowboy” broad–brimmed felt hat with ventilating holes punched in the crown, and a brown silk puggree. The hat is better than a helmet, because it shades the whole of the face, and so prevents the awful infliction, veldt sores on the face, cracked lips, and burned nose; and it protects the nape of the neck and temples from the sun; can be slept in, and suffers no damage from rough usage, and does not interfere with the aim when shooting; it is light, and so does not cause weariness or headache as the helmet often does; it protects the face and ears better than the helmet does in going through thick bush, the brim turning down with the pressure of the branches.Neckerchief.—A grey–coloured handkerchief loosely tied round the neck prevents sunburn, and can be tightened up at night as a comforter.ill269Our Working KitShirt.—Brown or light–grey flannel.Cummerbund.—Grey or brown flannel cummerbund saves dysentery, chills, etc., especially at night.Breeches.—Kharki cord, with back pocket to hold notebook and field bandage.Gaiters.—Brown soft leather (some men prefer putties, but I think gaiters best for coolness, ease in taking on and off, and for circulation of the blood). Instead of breeches and gaiters, many men wear trousers of moleskin or other strong material.Boots.—Shooting boots, strong, well–dubbed. In wet weather indiarubber soles are very slippery, but in dry weather, on rocks, they are perfect. Rubber–soled shoes should be carried on the wallets.Spurs.—The Colonial fashion of wearing one spur only is not a bad one where mounted infantry work is to be done. The spur should be very short, so as not to trip you when on foot.Coat.—Burberry kharki gabardine, carried by day rolled up on the pommel of the saddle. Nightcap in one of the pockets, also a warm muffler.Waistcoat.—A Cardigan waistcoat or a sweater (grey or brown) is a very great comfort—can be carried rolled inside the coat during the heat of the day.Watch.—Wrist–watch, with very thick hands, and lever action, as made by Dent (Charing Cross).Belt.—Brown leather, with rings or dees to hang things on. These include—Revolver.—Service pattern in an open “cowboy” holster, with cord lanyard round your neck.Whistle.—Secured to the belt (or round the neck) by a cord sufficiently long to allow it to reach your mouth.Knife.—Comprising tin–opener, turnscrew, corkscrew, skinning blade, borer, tweezers, etc.Flint and Steel.Compass.Revolver Cartridges.}In a pouch on the belt.Pipe and Tobacco.—Ditto.II.On your horse.Saddle.—The Colonial military saddle.Wallets.—Slung across the cantle, where they are far more handy than in front (see photo).In near Wallet.In off Wallet.Spare flannel shirt.Sketchbook.Socks.Map.Spat Gaiters.Quinine.ToothbrushTooth–powderSoapHair–brush}wrapped in a towel.Camera.Housewife.Tin of cocoa.Tin of bovril or potted meat.Bread.Knife, fork, and spoon.Much of the above can be carried in the pockets of the coat if more room is wanted in the wallets for rations.Cooking “Billy”in leathern case on the cantle. The Bechuanaland Border Police pattern of “billy” is very good, and carries its own drinking–cup. Your ration of meat can be carried in the “billy.”Water–bottleTelescopeNosebag}On near side of saddle.Field–glassesAxeCarbine Bucket}On off–side of saddle.Shoes with indiarubber solesstrapped on outside the wallets.Carbine.—Lee–Metford Sporting Magazine Rifle, or the cavalry L.–M. carbine are very good, but involve carrying a bandolier. A Colt’s repeater carries its own fourteen rounds, but if it jams or gets out of order, is difficult to repair on the veldt. The carbine bucket is merely a shoe in which the butt of the rifle rests, while the barrel is kept near the side under your arm or attached to the arm by a loop of cord.The carbine should be fitted with a brown leather sling by which it can be carried across the back when climbing or when riding (wherethere is no possibility of meeting an enemy or a buck), or it can be hung from the point of the shoulder, ready for immediate use.Blanketis worn under the saddle, with a numnah between it and the horse’s back to prevent its becoming wet and sour with sweat.Bridle.—Ordinary military head–collar with a “9th Lancer” or “Pelham” bit, and a “reim” (thong) for tying up or knee–haltering the horse.CHAPTER XIThe Downfall of Uwini8th September to 14th SeptemberStart for the Somabula Forest to find Ridley’s Column—Native Pantomimic Description of a Battle—The British Subaltern—Taba–si–ka–Mamba—Bread–Making—Difficulty in Finding the Column—A Vision Fulfilled—A Man’s Toys—Meeting with Vyvyan—Join, and assume Command of the Column—The Wounded Men—How Uwini was captured—Why he was tried—Cutting off the Enemy’s Water–Supply—The Somabula Forest—Execution of Uwini—A Soldier Missing—A Fruitless Night March—A Battle between Friends—Start for the Somabula—We raid Lozan’s District.6th September.—I am now back at work again in the office, but only doing it indifferently well; Vyvyan is away with Ridley’s column, and meantime Nicholson is helping me in the office. He has been marvellously quick at picking up the threads of the office work, and consequently is of the greatest assistance.7th September.—Sir Frederick has to–day given me a better tonic than any which the combinedmedical faculty of Buluwayo could devise. He has told me that he is anxious for me to go and take charge of the column which is now under Ridley in the Somabula Forest. He has privately consulted Dr. Strong, who has been looking after me, and he considers that I may now safely go. After hearing this, it did not take long for me to get ready. Packing my kit on one horse and riding another, I said good–bye to Buluwayo, and with my nigger Diamond riding a third horse and leading a fourth, I started this afternoon, and am now camped for the night on the Umguza River, where some of Plumer’s men are stationed.8th September.—Took with me three of Plumer’s men as escort, viz. Troopers Abrahamson, White, and Parkin, each with two horses and three days’ rations. We started at sunrise to follow up Ridley’s column. I could picture nothing more to my taste than a ride of from eighty to one hundred miles in a wild country, with three good men, and plenty of excitement in having to keep a good look–out for the enemy, enjoying splendid weather, shirt–sleeves, and a reviving feeling of health and freedom. Everything promised to make it one of the delightful times of my life. But before we had gone ten miles, I found I wasn’t very fit; at sixteen miles we off–saddled, and a cup of tea refreshed me,but I could not eat. I began to have thoughts of sending back for a cart to bring me ignominiously home again. However, after an hour’s rest, I reflected that it was only a natural weakness after being so long on the sick–list. So we went on for nine miles, to where Mr. Fynn was camped on a farm belonging to Arthur Rhodes (better known as “the M’limo”). Fynn is here collecting together native prisoners and refugees, and giving them ground on which to sow their crops. My thanks to you, Fynn, for that arm–chair where I slept most happily, and then the excellent tea and boiled rice, followed by another spell in the arm–chair! While resting here, three rebels came in to surrender, and they told us how the white troops, meaning Ridley’s column, were several days on ahead, and that two days ago they had surrounded the rebels and had kept firing on them for the whole of one day and part of the next; one of the niggers went through a pantomime descriptive of the battle, and showed us how, during the fight, he himself lay low in a donga, and heard first the single shots of the white men replied to by the deeper bang of the native muskets, then the increasing rattle and roar of musketry, then the rapid tap, tap, tap of the Maxim, mingled with the crack of volleys and the roar of 7–pounders. He imitated all the soundsbeautifully, as well as the crouching attack of the skirmishers, the falling of the wounded rebels, and the flight of the remainder. His action was perfect, but I eventually discovered it was all a lie from beginning to end. No such fight had taken place—he merely made it up, as he hoped to please us; but meantime I was miserable at the thought that the action had come off and I was too late for it. At the same time, it aroused my impatience, and we pressed on that evening eight miles farther to the Bembezi River. There we off–saddled and coiled down in the dark, taking turns to keep watch. It was a lovely night, but was rather spoilt during my watch by a beastly hyæna coming and sniffing around, and growling and snarling at us every now and then.9th September.—Started at daybreak, and got to Inyati (fourteen miles) by eight o’clock. Here we found Terry of the 7th Hussars with six men occupying a small fort. Their life did not seem too cheery; small fort, open flat, blazing sun, and flies innumerable. Rudyard Kipling would well describe this young sprig, fresh from Charterhouse, accepting the surrender of numbers of Lobengula’s trusted old warriors. He had under his charge in the fort stores of food and grain, for the better protection of which he had drawn largely on theroof of the mission church across the flat. After breakfasting here, we pressed on again under a blazing sun, hoping for water, but finding none. On and on over yellow, grassy, bush–grown flats for fourteen miles, till we struck a river bed in which were a few pools of water. Here I lay down utterly done up, but after a wash in a pool and some tea, I soon got all right, and in the cool of the evening we went on another four miles to the Longwe River. Like nearly all the so–called rivers here, it was but a river bed of sand, in which one had to dig for water. We found here a convoy of four waggons with supplies for Ridley’s column, but they could give us no information as to where he was camped, or how far ahead he might be; they were merely following along on his track. They had a strong escort, and were quite prepared to take care of themselves in the event of an attack. Among the troopers on escort was one Madden, an old Swaziland acquaintance. Our two days’ journey had brought us respectively thirty–three and thirty–two miles from Buluwayo,—a total of sixty–five.ill280Giants’ PlaythingsSpecimens of fantastic granite rocks seen in Matabeleland and Mashonaland.10th September.—Again we started at daybreak, and passed by Taba–si–ka–Mamba, a mass of jumbled–up koppies, six miles by three, which had formed one of the chief rebel strongholds in this part of the country, until Plumer’s force had stormed the place, and driven the enemy out, on the 6th July last. The rocks and koppies here, like those in the Matopos, are piles of granite boulders, and in many cases assume most fantastic forms. Here and there they look like castles on the top of peaks; in other places, like gigantic loaves of bread, and in one place there was a tower of five of them placed one on top of the other for a height of nearly a hundred feet. We rode on until we came to the next river, the Umsangwe, a distance of ten miles; it was blazing hot, and I now began to feel a very poor creature. It was too far to go back again, and we could only hope that the column was not very far ahead, especially as we had not too much quantity orvariety of food with us. I lay up during the heat of the day with a waterproof sheet spread over a thorn–bush as a shelter from the sun. The men dug water in the sand, washed, and baked bread. To bake bread, lay your coat on the ground, inside upwards, mix the flour and water in it (it doesn’t show when you put the coat on again); for yeast or baking powder use the juice of the toddy palm or Eno’s Fruit Salt to make a light dough; scrape a circle in the ashes of the fire, flop your lump of dough down on to it, flour the dough, spread fine sand all round and all over it, then heap the embers of the fire on to it; in half an hour an excellent flat loaf of bread results. It requires scrubbing with a horse–brush before you eat it. At half–past three we saddled up and trekked on to the Shangani River, which was only four miles farther on. It is a mighty river on the map, but is nothing more in nature than the usual sand river–bed with occasional pools, the sand being about a hundred and fifty yards wide, with reed–grown banks on either side. To get water, you have to scrape out a hole of two feet deep, and fairly good water comes immediately. We had brought a nigger guide with us from Inyati, and he said that Ridley’s column would be found on the Uvunkwe River, and that this wasonly a short distance on from the Shangani; so we pressed on. But as night closed in, our nigger got frightened, and he told us that there were Matabele about. We replied that that was exactly the reason why we had come there. Then he said that the next water was so far off, that if we trotted the whole night, we should not get there till long after sunrise next day. We tried for a bit to get on in the dark, but rain had fallen since Ridley’s column had passed along and had destroyed the spoor; we had no water, and only two days’ food; our nigger guide was evidently unreliable: so we turned back to the Shangani, and there bivouacked for the night, taking it in turns, as usual, to keep watch.11th September.—My anniversary of joining Her Majesty’s Service, 1876–1896—twenty years. I always think more of this anniversary than of that of my birth, and I could not picture a more enjoyable way of spending it. I am here, out in the wilds, with three troopers. They are all Afrikanders, that is, Colonial born, one an ex–policeman, another a mining engineer (went to England with me in 1889 on board theMexican), the third an electrical engineer from Johannesburg,—all of them good men on the veldt, and good fighting men. We are nearly eighty miles fromBuluwayo and thirty from the nearest troops. I have rigged up a shelter from the sun with my blanket, a rock, and a thorn–bush; thirteen thousand flies are unfortunately staying with me, and are awfully attentive.One of us is always on the look–out by night and by day. Our stock of food, crockery, cooking utensils, and bedding does not amount to anything much, as we carry it all on our saddles.Once, not very long ago, at an afternoon “At Home,” I was handing a cup of tea to an old dowager, who bridled up in a mantle with bugles and beads, and some one noticed that in doing so my face wore an absent look, and I was afterwards asked where my thoughts were at that time. I could only reply that “My mind was a blank, with a single vision in it, lower half yellow, upper half blue,” in other words, the yellow veldt of South Africa, topped with the blue South African sky. Possibly the scent of the tea had touched some memory chord which connected it with my black tin billy, steaming among the embers of a wood fire; but whatever it was then, my vision is to–day a reality. I am looking out on the yellow veldt and the blue sky; the veldt with its grey, hazy clumps of thorn bush is shimmering in the heat, and its vast expanse is only broken by the gleaming whitesand of the river bed and the green reeds and bushes which fringe its banks. (Interruption: Stand to the tent! a “Devil,” with its roaring pillar of dust and leaves, comes tearing by.) I used to think that the novelty of the thing would wear off, that these visions of the veldt would fade away as civilised life grew upon me. But they didn’t. They came again at most inopportune moments: just when I ought to be talking “The World,” or “Truth,” or “Modern Society” (with the cover removed), and making my reputation as a “sensible, well–informed man, my dear,” with the lady in the mantle, somebody in the next room has mentioned the word saddle, or rifle, or billy, or some other attribute of camp life, and off goes my mind at a tangent to play with its toys. Old Oliver Wendell Holmes is only too true when he says that most of us are “boys all our lives”; we have our toys, and will play with them with as much zest at eighty as at eight, that in their company we can never grow old. I can’t help it if my toys take the form of all that has to do with veldt life, and if they remain my toys till I drop—“Then here’s to our boyhood, its gold and its grey,The stars of its winter, the dews of its May;And when we have done with our life–lasting toys,Dear Father, take care of Thy children, the boys.”May it not be that our toys are the various media adapted to individual tastes through which men may know their God?As Ramakrishna Paramahansa writes: “Many are the names of God and infinite the forms that lead us to know of Him. In whatsoever name or form you desire to know Him, in that very name and form you will know Him.”In the afternoon I rode out with one of the men some ten miles down the Shangani River, to see if we could find any spoor of the enemy crossing the sandy bed or coming to get water there, but we only found the separate tracks of three men at all fresh, though we found hundreds of old tracks. As we came in sight of our bivouac on our return, my man said, “There is a strange horse grazing with ours; someone has come to the camp;” and it was true enough—we had a visitor. Vyvyan, who was acting as staff officer to Ridley, had received my note which I had sent on by runners, saying that I was coming out to take command of the column, and that he was to return to Buluwayo to act as chief staff officer. From him I ascertained that the column was only twenty–five miles away, and had not yet had a big fight, although it had lost a few men in taking some of the innumerable koppies in whichthe rebels of that part had taken refuge. So towards evening we saddled up and moved on, Vyvyan going on to Buluwayo with one man as escort, and I and my little party continuing our way eastward. We went on for three hours until the moon set, and then bivouacked for the night.12th September.—On again at daybreak, through thick bush country, in which were numerous granite boulder koppies. Everywhere we found more or less recent tracks of natives, and the wheel–marks of Ridley’s waggons once more became pretty well defined. Our horses were now beginning to get done—indeed, one of mine was doing his best to die; so, knowing that we must be near Ridley’s camp, I pressed on ahead of the party leaving them to follow more leisurely. Presently I came across two niggers hiding in the bush, but evidently unarmed and afraid to run away. From them I managed to elicit that the camp was not far off, and they soon put me on the right path to it, and I got in in time for a late breakfast. The laager was formed in an open spot, surrounded on all sides at a short distance by eight koppies which formed the strongholds of the enemy. One of these koppies had been attacked and taken two days previously, and thechief of the tribe had been there captured. But we had lost one man killed and four wounded, and there still remained seven koppies to be taken. One of my first acts in camp, after taking over command of the column, was to visit the hospital, where I found one man with his hand amputated; he bore it very well, and, being one of the best football players of the 7th Hussars, he was in good training, and therefore but little affected by it. When I said I hoped it would not spoil his football in the future, he laughed and said that as he played the Association game, he would be all the better without a hand. Another poor chap had a great double wound in his thigh (all unbandaged for my edification); and another, who was yesterday a particularly handsome young hussar, has to–day a horrible caricature of a face, with the whole of his lower jaw shot away. And with what object? Merely to get half a dozen frightened niggers out of their holes in the rocks. Then I was shown the chief who had been captured—Uwini by name. He was badly wounded in the shoulder, but, enraged at being a prisoner, he would allow nothing to be done for him; no sooner had the surgeon bandaged him than he tore the dressings off again. He was a fine, truculent–looking savage, and boasted that he hadalways been able to hold his own against any enemies in this stronghold of his, but now that he was captured he only wished to die. His capture had been most pluckily effected by Captain van Niekerk and two of his men. When his kraal was taken by the troops, Uwini had scrambled down into the labyrinth of caves which ran through the rocks on which the kraal was built. Trooper Halifax and another crawled in after him, and followed him from one point to another of his refuge, often firing and being fired at by him. After some hours of this game of hide–and–seek, Halifax had managed to wound the chief; they then followed him up with a lighted candle, tracking him by his blood spoor, until they finally cornered him in a cleft of the rocks from which he could not escape. He was so disabled by his wound as to be unable to fire on them, and they made him a prisoner.It now rested with me to decide what should be our next step. We had lost five men killed and wounded in taking one koppie, and there still remained seven to be taken, which were just as strongly held as the first one; consequently we must expect to lose a number of men before we finally effected our purpose, and the probability was that we should not do thisbefore we had first killed a large number of the rebels. The Native Commissioner of this part had been murdered by the rebels and his police had joined them, so that civil power in the district had ceased to exist. There was in camp, however, an acting Native Commissioner, Mr. V. Gielgud, who was to assume the post of Commissioner so soon as the rebels could be induced to surrender. This officer was most anxious that I should try Uwini by court–martial, for the following reasons:—Uwini was not only the leading chief of that part of the country, but was one of the four chiefs of the whole of Matabeleland who were supposed to be specially endowed by the M’limo, the god of the people; he was therefore in their eyes sacred, invulnerable, and infallible. He was well known to be the instigator of rebellion, and of several specific murders of whites in the district. His immediate punishment, then and there, would do more than anything else to restore our prestige and bring about the surrender of rebels, not only of his own tribe, but probably of the neighbouring tribes as well.The chief, when asked by us to call upon his people to surrender, now that he was captured, absolutely declined to make any such proposition to them. He said that he had ordered them intorebellion, and had told them to fight to the last, and he was not now going to go back on his orders. He is a plucky and stubborn old villain. Time is very pressing, as we are getting constant information of rebels massing in three directions within reach of us, and to catch them we ought to be on the move at once; so I have determined to try him by court–martial, as any deserved punishment would certainly save much bloodshed on both sides, would save much valuable time that would otherwise be lost in operations against the stronghold, and should bring about the rapid pacification of the whole district and the restoration of our prestige in these parts. There is no civil power to refer the case to, and by military law Uwini is a prisoner of war, and liable to trial by a military court; we are over a hundred miles from the General’s headquarters, so that I could not refer the case with any certainty of getting an answer within reasonable time; and also, I know of several other similar cases having been tried lately by court–martial (P.S.—I had not then heard of any exception having been taken to this course), and I have therefore given the order for his immediate trial by Field General Court–Martial.ill291Cold and HungryClothing a little rebel prisoner. (For sequel see page293.)ill293Warm And ComfortableThe little prisoner shows appreciation (with his right hand) of the late contents of the jampot in his left.Uwini’s kraal, like most others in this part of the country, was a large collection of thatched circular huts built on inaccessible crags of a small mountain; and above the kraal, on points of rocks, so as to be well out of the reach of thieves and marauders, were perched numerous corn–bins. These latter we could only reach by hoisting men up with ropes, but we were lucky in obtaining from them very large supplies of grain. Much of this we have used for feeding the women and children whom we had captured from this kraal, and these, spreading the news to others in other parts of the stronghold, have induced a good many of them to come and give themselves up to us.In order to help the rebels to make up their minds about surrendering, I have ordered piquets to be posted at all places from which they draw their water supply; these are generally small wells in the neighbourhood of the koppies occupied by them, and their usual time for getting water is during the dark hours of the night, so I hope that to–night we shall considerably astonish them when they come to get their supply for to–morrow.My force here consists of a squadron of the 7th Hussars under Captain Agnew, a company of the York and Lancaster Mounted Infantry under Captain Kekewich, a strong troop of the Afrikander Corps under Captain van Niekerk,three Maxims, a 7–pounder under Captain Boggie, field hospital under Surgeon Lieutenant–Colonel Gormley, ambulance, and waggons carrying about a month’s stores, a total of 360 men and horses.13th September.—During the night a lot of shots were fired by our piquet on the stronghold. I visited them at dawn and found they had killed two rebels who had come out to get water. I had a long talk with the prisoners and refugees who were in camp, and learned from them that the mass of the Matabele were now spread about in the Somabula Forest. This forest extends in a semicircle for a distance of over a hundred and fifty miles from Gwelo down to the Shangani, and varies in width from fifteen to thirty miles. It is not, as a rule, inhabited, owing to the dearth of water, but the enemy had now taken to it, hoping to find a safer refuge there. Our present camp is close to the edge of the forest, and is on the bank of the Uvunkwe River. This river runs along the side of the forest until it joins the Shangani some fifty miles from here. It seems to me that, by following down the Uvunkwe River for a short distance, and then striking through the forest to the Gwelo River, we should be able to come upon a large mass of the rebels who aresaid to be occupying a strong position in the hills.The court–martial assembled on Uwini this morning, and tried him on charges of armed rebellion, for ordering his people to murder whites, and for instigating rebellion in this part of the country. The court martial gave him a long hearing, in which he practically confessed to what was charged against him, and they found him guilty, and sentenced him to be shot. I was sorry for him—he was a fine old savage; but I signed his warrant, directing that he should be shot at sundown.During the day I went over the koppie that had formed Uwini’s main stronghold. It is a wonderfully strong mass of boulders about half a mile long and six hundred feet high. The approaches to it were strengthened by breastworks of stone and timber, and the mountain itself is honeycombed with caves. The cave in which Uwini was captured runs all through the mountain with innumerable ramifications. It is so narrow that in many places we had to crawl, now and then climbing up on our hands and knees, and sometimes having to creep down rough ladders made of tree–trunks. It was only then that we realised the difficulty that the men had had ineffecting his capture, and their pluck in following up an armed and desperate man in such a very nasty place.On my arrival in camp yesterday, it had been reported to me that one man of the Mounted Infantry, while out on patrol in the forest, had become separated from his party and was missing. Additional patrols had been sent out to search for him and though they had followed up his spoor for some distance, they had been unable to find him. To–day, again, patrols had gone out accompanied by native trackers, but towards evening they returned, having again been unsuccessful in finding him; they reported that his spoor led back in the direction of the camp, and so they had hoped he would have returned before them, but he has not yet returned. Luckily, he was carrying on his saddle the day’s rations for the other three men of his section, so that if he can only keep his head, and not overwork his horse, there is every hope that he will turn up again. But that is the worst of these men when they get lost,—they seem to lose their heads, and tear off in all directions, until they exhaust themselves and their horses, when they become a prey to the enemy or go out of their mind. At night we send up rockets and fire guns in orderto show the wanderer whereabouts the camp lies.At sunset all the natives in camp, both friendlies, refugees, and prisoners, were paraded to witness the execution of Uwini. He was taken out to an open place in the centre of his stronghold, where all his people who were still holding out could see what was being done, and he was there shot by a firing party from the troops.I have great hopes that the moral effect of this will be particularly good among the rebels, as he was the head and centre of revolution in these parts, and had come to be looked upon by them as a god. No doubt, when they have realised that he is after all but a mortal, that he has succumbed to our power, and that they have no other head to take his place, they won’t delay long to surrender.Indeed, I sent one old lady out to the rebel stronghold to–day to advise them to give themselves up, and to assure them that they could do so with perfect safety, but the old girl returned from her mission without bringing any of them with her. As she came back into camp, carrying her pass in a cleft stick, I was amused to hear one of the men say to her as she passed, “Hullo, old girl, are you back off furlough already?”300No Respecter of Persons“Hulloh, old gal! Back again off furlo’?” is the greeting of Tommy Atkins to an aged princess returning from a mission to the rebels.I had proposed to start off some of my column to the northward this evening, but in the afternoon a small boy came into camp and reported that there was a party of Matabele camped about fifteen miles away to the southward, on the Uvunkwe River, so I got Ridley to take fifty men and make a night march to attack them. The patrol started after dark, at seven o’clock, and very soon after they had left camp, we heard rapid firing in their direction. On sending out to ascertain the cause, we found that Ridley’s party, in passing near to the piquet which was guarding the enemy’s water–supply, had been mistaken by themfor Matabele, and had been fired on, but luckily no one was hurt. I ran in the officer of the piquet, and after hearing his explanation of how the mistake arose, I abused him roundly, not for making the mistake, for we are all of us liable to do that at times, but because, when he opened fire, his men were not able to hit the hussars. This hurt him more than the most violent reprimand, because he prided himself on the good shooting of his men.14th September.—Firing was kept up during the night by this piquet at frequent intervals. It was evident that the rebels were getting very thirsty; for two days and nights now they had not been allowed to get any water. During the few hours of darkness, just before dawn, numbers of them slipped away, and the remainder came and gave themselves up, many of them bringing in their arms. Thus, within a very few hours of his execution, the death of Uwini began to have its effect.Through the break–up of Uwini’s stronghold, large stores of grain fell into our hands, and as we have over a thousand prisoners and refugees now in camp, we have plenty of assistance in gathering it into a central store.Early in the morning Ridley and his patrol returned from their night march. They had foundthe enemy’s scherms deserted, the spoor showing that the Kafirs had cleared into the forest; they had had their long ride for nothing, and the only excitement they had encountered was that of being fired upon by our own piquet just after starting.Again the search party, which had been sent out to look for the missing man, returned unsuccessful; no further signs of him had been found, and I fear that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy.ill304The Shangan ColumnSketch map showing the country visited by this column. The dotted line shows the route of that patrol of the column which I accompanied, Kekewich’s and Ridley’s patrols working to our right rear, through the forest. Scale approximately 20 miles to 1 inch.
CHAPTER XThe Situation in Matabeleland and Mashonaland16th June to 28th AugustWe open Communication with the Rebels in the Matopos regarding their Surrender—Rhodes commences the Peace Indabas—Imperial Troops arrive in Matabeleland—The State of Affairs in Matabeleland—I am on the Sick–List—Stout–Heartedness of the Rebels—Opinions on the Peace Negotiations—Our Supply Difficulties—The Origin of the Outbreak in Mashonaland—Difficulties of Supply in that Country—Early Defence Measures—The Relief of Salisbury by the Imperial Troops—Sir Frederick Carrington’s Task—What kit to take: I. On yourself; II. On your horse.I said that when I left camp to come into Buluwayo, on the 10th, it seemed a good opportunity for accepting the surrender of the rebels, if they liked to come in. They had suffered a succession of severe blows, and, while still in a state of disruption consequent upon them, would probably be only to glad to surrender. But if they were left to themselves for a short time, they might reorganisetheir forces and continue to give endless trouble in the Matopos, which might mean a great deal more expense to us of time and men.So, before leaving camp, I had made a few preliminary arrangements, in order that no time should be lost in opening communication with the rebels. We had, as a prisoner, Inyanda’s mother, and I sent her with a few men to the site of his kraal, which was close under the mountain where his people still hung out. There the men built a small hut for her, gave her a supply of corn and meat, and an old half–witted woman to grind the corn for her, and, hoisting a big white flag on the tree above her hut, they left her to be called for. As they came away, they shouted to the rebels up on the hill, telling them that if they wanted peace, they might come down and talk to the old lady, as she would give them all information about it.It was necessary to do something of this kind to induce the natives to believe anything we said on the subject of peace; they were too suspicious of a trap if we went and tried to talk to them ourselves. This plan eventually succeeded; her people came down to talk to the old woman, took her away with them to consult with the chief, and finally sent messengers, carrying the white flag, to our camp, to say that they were ready to talk.ill251The Peace Indaba with the Matopo RebelsMr. Cecil Rhodes carried out the peace negotiations with the Matabele chiefs. He was assisted by Dr. Sauer (on his left) and Capt. Colenbrander (on his right), and accompanied by Mr. Stent (war correspondent of theCape Times). These officers went unarmed among the rebels, in order to show their peaceful intent. After five weeks, the negotiations resulted in the surrender of the chiefs.Unfortunately, I was not able to have any further say in the matter myself, as I was now down with dysentery, and on the sick–list. But, eventually, on the 22nd August, Cecil Rhodes, with Dr. Sauer and Captain Colenbrander, went into the Matopos to meet the rebel leaders, near the koppie where Kershaw was killed on the 5th.Jan Grootboom, the native scout, was sent on into the hills to summon the indunas, and presently they appeared, following Grootboom, who carried the white flag at their head, with an air of immense importance. Among the chiefs were Umlugulu, Sikombo, Somabulana, Hliso, Manyoba, Malevu, Inyanda, Babyan, and over thirty other indunas. Rhodes sat on an ant–heap, with Dr. Sauer on his left, Colenbrander on his right, and Stent, of theCape Times, just behind him.Rhodes got up to salute the chiefs in their own language, and stood out in the centre to do so; all were in silence awaiting his opening word. He stood, and paused, and, smiling, had to turn and ask, “Whatisthat word?”[It was “Umhlope,” which is the usual salutation of peace after war.]Somabulana then opened the indaba (conference), and, as spokesman for the Matabele, said that they had been driven to rebellion chiefly by the official bullying on the part of the Native Police. When he had done, Sikombo went on to charge five of the Native Commissioners with abuse of their powers. The chiefs wound up by saying they merely wanted justice, and would be glad to end the war. Rhodes promised there should be an alteration as regards the Native Police, and said that if they intended now to lay down their arms, their complaints would all be taken into consideration. Sikombo laid down his gun and assegai at Rhodes’ feet, and said that this indaba represented the nation “as its eyes and ears,” and that all they wanted was to live at peace with the whites. Then he was asked why it was that the Matabele, in breaking out, had exceeded the usual rules of war, and had murdered women and children? And he said it was because white men had been reported to be doing the same thing. It was then pointed out to the chiefs that nothing could be done unless they and all their people laid down their arms; and the chiefs agreed to bring all their people out of the hills within the next few days, and so that conference ended.[P.S.—It was not till 13th October, after many further conferences, that a final settlement was come to.]A squadron of the 7th Hussars now arrived at Buluwayo, under Major Ridley, having completed a long patrol through the Guai district, finally breaking up such small parties of rebels as remained there, and bringing about their general surrender.The situation in Matabeleland now is as follows:—The whole of the north of the country is clear and peaceful; in the south the rebels are treating for peace in the Matopos; but, in the east and north–east, bodies of them are still massed in the outlying districts. In the east, in the Belingwe district, about a hundred miles from Buluwayo, Wedza still remains in active rebellion, supported by various small chiefs occupying mountain strongholds. In the Selukwe district, just south of Gwelo, two chiefs, Monogola and Indema, still resist all efforts to reduce them. To the north–east of Gwelo, in the Maven district, at least one strong impi is collected; and the Somabula forest, north–west of Gwelo, and a hundred miles north–east of Buluwayo, is reported to be full of rebels. On the borders of this forest is the great grain district belonging to Uwini, who hasseveral different tribes dependent on him for their supply and direction. Moreover, M’tini, who had been defeated in July at Taba–si–ka–Mamba, has retreated on to the Shangani, and now has his impi in full work there, under the orders of M’qwati, the local M’limo, and it maintains small posts on all the chief paths to prevent well–disposed natives from coming in to surrender or to take refuge with us.Colonel Paget, with a column of Imperial troops (7th Hussars and Mounted Infantry), is moving through South Matabeleland,viâTuli and Victoria, to Gwelo.Such is the situation to–day (22nd August); and Ridley’s column of 7th Hussars and Mounted Infantry, having completed their work in the Guai district, are at Buluwayo, and will now be sent against the Somabula. And, were I well enough, it is probable that I should be sent in command; but here I am on my back, limp and washed–out, and really thin this time! And only a short time ago I was thinking that I had never been so fit in my life, and certainly never burnt so brown a colour! I am having a poor time of it, but it is not so bad as it might be; Sir Frederick is more than kind to me, and spends all his leisure alongside my bed, at all times ofthe day and at odd hours of the night, telling me how things are going on, and soothing my disappointment at not being able to get out into the field. Then, I am wonderfully lucky in having an excellent doctor, Dr. Strong, and a most excellent cook—not that I require much, but that little has to be of the right kind. This is not a very large world, and the lady who runs the neighbouring restaurant, being told to supply me with invalid food, came in to see me, to inquire into my symptoms herself, as she had formerly been a hospital nurse, and therefore thoroughly understood what one ought to take; but before becoming a hospital nurse, she had learned the art of cooking in the kitchen of the Powells of Dorking, our cousins. Having made this discovery, and having thereby gained a personal interest in me, she has exerted herself to the utmost, and has fully succeeded in supplying me with the most appetising food possible under the circumstances.26th August.—Ridley’s column started to–day for the Shangani, and though I am now feeling quite well, the doctor would not allow me even to think of going with it. I have seldom felt so down about my luck before.Meantime, in the Matopos, negotiations arestill going on about the surrender, but the rebels do not seem over anxious to give in. At an indaba to–day, a hundred young warriors, with two chiefs, met Cecil Rhodes and party, and talked to them pretty cheekily. They said that unless they had their rights they had no desire to come in. All these men carried rifles and bandoliers full of cartridges.One of them, named Karl Kamarlo, had been captured by us in the early days of the outbreak, had been tried and been sentenced to be shot; he was taken outside the town by two troopers, and was there shot by them. One shot struck him in the forehead and apparently came out at the back of his head, and the other struck him through the shoulder and he was left lying on the ground. When the burying party came out for him, they could not find him. It appears that the bullet which struck him on the head was not strong enough for his skull, and merely glanced round under his scalp without breaking the bone, and came out through the skin at the back, giving the appearance of a shot clean through his head. By this wound the man was merely stunned, and when his executioners had retired, having, as they thought, carried out the penalty ofthe law, he got up and walked off in the other direction. It is now said that he intends to sue the Company for assault and personal injury! Another man present at the indaba asked if our doctor could do anything for him, as in the fight of the 5th he had been standing almost in the line of fire of the Maxim, and in one instant had received nine wounds in his side and leg, most of them very slight; he had been practically crimped as if with an iron rake.There seem to be various opinions here as regards the surrender. One says that the rebels should be made to surrender entirely unconditionally, and should only be allowed to do so on condition of their giving up their arms, and such of their number as are guilty of murder. Others say that that is right enough in theory, but if the rebels refuse, as they very probably would, it means part of the force trying to fight them during the rainy season, while the other part will have to be withdrawn from the country owing to inability to supply them. Sickness and reverses will probably result, and in the end the murderers will not have been caught; whereas, if told that they can now surrender and reoccupy their kraals and sow their crops, the capture of the murderers and the thorough armamentcan afterwards be effectually carried out by the police. And the police, by occupying fortified posts in all the grain–growing districts, will thus have the whip hand of the natives, as they can prevent them from sowing or from reaping any crops at will.This question of supply and transport is very pressing. We are using all the transport we can lay our hands on, and yet we can only manage to keep our present wants fairly well supplied; while the reserve which we want to lay down, ready for the rainy season, is only being formed at a very slow rate. Towards the end of November the rains will set in, the roads then become impassable, and the mules die of horse–sickness. We therefore want to lay down a sufficient reserve of food in the meantime to carry us through the four months at least of rains; but we cannot get contractors to tender for the transport, and it is very difficult to purchase even in Cape Colony. The oxen up here are all dead, and ox waggons coming up from the Cape are not allowed to return thither, for fear of spreading the rinderpest. The Transvaal border touches ours near Tuli, and we might get supplies in that way but the Boer Government will not allow the export of foodstuffs from their country, fearing famine for themselves.ill-261Routes to Matabeleland and MashonalandThe above sketch shows the approximate distances that supplies had to travel from Cape Town in order to reach the respective centres at Buluwayo and Salisbury—Cape Town to Buluwayo, 1487 miles; Cape Town to Salisbury, 2050 miles.Meanwhile, great events have been going on in Mashonaland. Rebellion, as I said before, broke out there on the 16th June. Bands of Matabele rebels had made their way to Mashonaland after the first defeats near Buluwayo. They spread reports among Mashonas that the whites had allbeen killed in Matabeleland, and that now was the time to rise and similarly put an end to their rule in Mashonaland; and they threatened that, in the event of the Mashonas not rising, the whole of the Matabele nation under Lobengularedivivuswould shortly be down on them. A few Native Commissioners in touch with their people might have counteracted these reports, but none did so, and consequently rebellion broke out, as it had done in Matabeleland, with the sudden and brutal murders of whites—men, women, and little children—in all parts of the country.Townships went into laager, local defence forces were organised to the number of eight hundred men, Judge Vintcent being Commandant–General. Rescue patrols went out to bring in outlying settlers and miners. But here again arose the insurmountable difficulty of transport. There was only one road, namely, thatviâUmtali to the coast at Beira, by which food could come. This road extended for over 200 miles across the veldt, and then met the railway in Portuguese territory which partially connected it with the coast; thus the whole distance for Mashonaland supplies to come was: Cape Town to Beira, 1700 miles; by river, 50 miles; by rail, 100 miles; by road, 200 miles; total, 2050. This road was interceptednear Umtali, and held by a powerful tribe of rebels under Makoni.Reserve supplies in the country did not amount to anything dependable, and could only last the defenders for a few weeks at most.The rebels in Mashonaland occupied chiefly the districts round Salisbury and the Salisbury–Umtali road, and the district east and south–east of Charter. They are by nature far less warlike than the Matabele, and are not given to attacking in the open, but content themselves with murdering helpless farmers, waggon and other small parties, and then retire to their fortified kraals and cave strongholds if attacked.On the 18th June, Captain Turner, who was on his way through Mashonaland with a troop of fifty Natal volunteers for Matabeleland when the Mashonas broke out, went to the rescue of White at the Beatrice Mine, but was attacked in some narrow gorges by masses of rebels, and compelled to retire with a loss of three killed and three wounded.On the 19th June, Captain Nesbit made a very plucky dash with thirteen men to rescue some white settlers, including two women, at Mazoe, thirty miles north of Salisbury. He had to fight his way through the rebels to get there, and the party had a running fight of it for nearly the whole wayback against heavy odds, the enemy rushing up to within a few yards at the time. Gallant work was done on this occasion by Messrs. Ogilvy and Harbord, who acted as advanced guard to the party. The waggonette in which the women were conveyed had been “armour–plated” with sheets of corrugated iron, but nearly all the mules were killed or wounded. Five men were killed and five wounded, and eight horses killed. But in the end the gallant little band got into Salisbury.Captain Bremner, 20th Hussars, whose services had been placed at the General’s disposal, was, in accordance with Sir Frederick’s directions, making his way to Salisbury to act as staff officer there. He was caught by the rebelsen routeand killed, together with one or two settlers at whose house he was resting. The loss of this useful officer was a great blow to us, especially at this juncture, when things wanted organising in Mashonaland.Towards the end of June the following relief parties arrived in Mashonaland from Matabeleland:—namely, Beal with 133 men, Watts 100, White 65 (Grey’s and Gifford’s Scouts); the latter column especially made a wonderfully rapid march, and did some dashing work. And from the Cape there arrived,viâBeira, 500 Imperial troops underColonel Alderson. These consisted of 240 mounted infantry, 100 R.E. and R.A. and M.S.C., 150 West Riding Regiment, 50 York and Lancaster Regiment.Their disembarkation and transport by rail was effected under great difficulties, owing to want of proper tugs, lighters, wharves, rolling stock, etc. One lot stuck in the mud in the Pungwe River for twenty–four hours; a train ran off the line and killed several of the horses, another train collided with the wreckage, and Colonel Alderson and others on the engine had to jump for their lives. But in spite of all obstacles the force made its way rapidly into Mashonaland. It turned and attacked Makoni’s position, defeating him and taking his fortified kraal; 200 of the enemy were killed, 350 head of cattle and a number of prisoners taken, our losses being 4 killed and 5 wounded. Among the killed was Captain Haynes, shot while escalading the wall of Makoni’s head kraal. The force then went on attacking various other tribes along the road, establishing frequent fortified posts as it went, and in this way secured the safety of the supply route to Salisbury, and brought much–needed supplies into that place.Alderson is now in local command of all the forces in Mashonaland, receiving his instructionsfrom the General here by telegraph. By means of strong columns he is now breaking up the rebels in various directions, and forcing them out of their strongholds. But this latter is a particularly dangerous and unpleasant work, since the strongholds in Mashonaland consist, as a rule, of koppies undermined in all directions with caves and crannies, in which a very few determined men can hold their own against almost any number. But Tommy Atkins is reported to be quite equal to the occasion, and apparently delights in the novel form of getting killed. Alderson’s total force amounts to 2200 men and 580 horses.Sir Frederick Carrington’s management of this extended force operating in a country which is equal in size to Spain, France, and Italy put together, is like a man playing on a small piano to a large room full of people. Our room is over 600 miles in length, and the piano a very small one, because the doorway (the transport and supply) is too small to admit a larger one. The piano’s notes are eight small field columns, seven laagered towns, and twenty–four fortified posts. He plays them by telegraph from his music–stool at Buluwayo, and has to make them reach every corner of the room. He burns to be out himself with one or other of the columns, but it cannot be; he has tosit here to read the music and to play the notes accordingly, to pull the ropes, to consult with the other heads who have to be consulted, and to be at the end of the wire for communication with the High Commissioner at the Cape.Extract from a Letter Home“28th August.—.... Your two letters of 17th and 24th July just received. Yes, you are quite right. We would do much better here if we had three times the number of men.But—we could not by any possibility feed them if theywerehere. Even to feed our present force through the approaching wet season, when roads will become impassable, requires four million pounds of food extra to what we have got here and on the road—i.e.600 extra waggons; and we cannot get anybody to tender for the job. There are so few oxen left in South Africa. That is why we have to go on as best we can with this little force.••••••“You ask about our climate here. Well, what is your ideal of a perfect climate? Because that would about express it. Bright sun always, breeze all day, thermometer 70° in the shade at midday, cool nights. Doors and windowsalwaysopen. In town the dust is the only drawback to it all.In camp there is not a tent or any shelter, except a few branches to keep off the wind. We all live entirely in the open, and it is delightful.••••••“I am keeping an illustrated diary for you.”It may be of use, in case of future expeditions of this kind, to jot down what kit I have found best for the work.I.On yourself.Hat.—A “cowboy” broad–brimmed felt hat with ventilating holes punched in the crown, and a brown silk puggree. The hat is better than a helmet, because it shades the whole of the face, and so prevents the awful infliction, veldt sores on the face, cracked lips, and burned nose; and it protects the nape of the neck and temples from the sun; can be slept in, and suffers no damage from rough usage, and does not interfere with the aim when shooting; it is light, and so does not cause weariness or headache as the helmet often does; it protects the face and ears better than the helmet does in going through thick bush, the brim turning down with the pressure of the branches.Neckerchief.—A grey–coloured handkerchief loosely tied round the neck prevents sunburn, and can be tightened up at night as a comforter.ill269Our Working KitShirt.—Brown or light–grey flannel.Cummerbund.—Grey or brown flannel cummerbund saves dysentery, chills, etc., especially at night.Breeches.—Kharki cord, with back pocket to hold notebook and field bandage.Gaiters.—Brown soft leather (some men prefer putties, but I think gaiters best for coolness, ease in taking on and off, and for circulation of the blood). Instead of breeches and gaiters, many men wear trousers of moleskin or other strong material.Boots.—Shooting boots, strong, well–dubbed. In wet weather indiarubber soles are very slippery, but in dry weather, on rocks, they are perfect. Rubber–soled shoes should be carried on the wallets.Spurs.—The Colonial fashion of wearing one spur only is not a bad one where mounted infantry work is to be done. The spur should be very short, so as not to trip you when on foot.Coat.—Burberry kharki gabardine, carried by day rolled up on the pommel of the saddle. Nightcap in one of the pockets, also a warm muffler.Waistcoat.—A Cardigan waistcoat or a sweater (grey or brown) is a very great comfort—can be carried rolled inside the coat during the heat of the day.Watch.—Wrist–watch, with very thick hands, and lever action, as made by Dent (Charing Cross).Belt.—Brown leather, with rings or dees to hang things on. These include—Revolver.—Service pattern in an open “cowboy” holster, with cord lanyard round your neck.Whistle.—Secured to the belt (or round the neck) by a cord sufficiently long to allow it to reach your mouth.Knife.—Comprising tin–opener, turnscrew, corkscrew, skinning blade, borer, tweezers, etc.Flint and Steel.Compass.Revolver Cartridges.}In a pouch on the belt.Pipe and Tobacco.—Ditto.II.On your horse.Saddle.—The Colonial military saddle.Wallets.—Slung across the cantle, where they are far more handy than in front (see photo).In near Wallet.In off Wallet.Spare flannel shirt.Sketchbook.Socks.Map.Spat Gaiters.Quinine.ToothbrushTooth–powderSoapHair–brush}wrapped in a towel.Camera.Housewife.Tin of cocoa.Tin of bovril or potted meat.Bread.Knife, fork, and spoon.Much of the above can be carried in the pockets of the coat if more room is wanted in the wallets for rations.Cooking “Billy”in leathern case on the cantle. The Bechuanaland Border Police pattern of “billy” is very good, and carries its own drinking–cup. Your ration of meat can be carried in the “billy.”Water–bottleTelescopeNosebag}On near side of saddle.Field–glassesAxeCarbine Bucket}On off–side of saddle.Shoes with indiarubber solesstrapped on outside the wallets.Carbine.—Lee–Metford Sporting Magazine Rifle, or the cavalry L.–M. carbine are very good, but involve carrying a bandolier. A Colt’s repeater carries its own fourteen rounds, but if it jams or gets out of order, is difficult to repair on the veldt. The carbine bucket is merely a shoe in which the butt of the rifle rests, while the barrel is kept near the side under your arm or attached to the arm by a loop of cord.The carbine should be fitted with a brown leather sling by which it can be carried across the back when climbing or when riding (wherethere is no possibility of meeting an enemy or a buck), or it can be hung from the point of the shoulder, ready for immediate use.Blanketis worn under the saddle, with a numnah between it and the horse’s back to prevent its becoming wet and sour with sweat.Bridle.—Ordinary military head–collar with a “9th Lancer” or “Pelham” bit, and a “reim” (thong) for tying up or knee–haltering the horse.
The Situation in Matabeleland and Mashonaland
16th June to 28th August
We open Communication with the Rebels in the Matopos regarding their Surrender—Rhodes commences the Peace Indabas—Imperial Troops arrive in Matabeleland—The State of Affairs in Matabeleland—I am on the Sick–List—Stout–Heartedness of the Rebels—Opinions on the Peace Negotiations—Our Supply Difficulties—The Origin of the Outbreak in Mashonaland—Difficulties of Supply in that Country—Early Defence Measures—The Relief of Salisbury by the Imperial Troops—Sir Frederick Carrington’s Task—What kit to take: I. On yourself; II. On your horse.
I said that when I left camp to come into Buluwayo, on the 10th, it seemed a good opportunity for accepting the surrender of the rebels, if they liked to come in. They had suffered a succession of severe blows, and, while still in a state of disruption consequent upon them, would probably be only to glad to surrender. But if they were left to themselves for a short time, they might reorganisetheir forces and continue to give endless trouble in the Matopos, which might mean a great deal more expense to us of time and men.
So, before leaving camp, I had made a few preliminary arrangements, in order that no time should be lost in opening communication with the rebels. We had, as a prisoner, Inyanda’s mother, and I sent her with a few men to the site of his kraal, which was close under the mountain where his people still hung out. There the men built a small hut for her, gave her a supply of corn and meat, and an old half–witted woman to grind the corn for her, and, hoisting a big white flag on the tree above her hut, they left her to be called for. As they came away, they shouted to the rebels up on the hill, telling them that if they wanted peace, they might come down and talk to the old lady, as she would give them all information about it.
It was necessary to do something of this kind to induce the natives to believe anything we said on the subject of peace; they were too suspicious of a trap if we went and tried to talk to them ourselves. This plan eventually succeeded; her people came down to talk to the old woman, took her away with them to consult with the chief, and finally sent messengers, carrying the white flag, to our camp, to say that they were ready to talk.
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The Peace Indaba with the Matopo RebelsMr. Cecil Rhodes carried out the peace negotiations with the Matabele chiefs. He was assisted by Dr. Sauer (on his left) and Capt. Colenbrander (on his right), and accompanied by Mr. Stent (war correspondent of theCape Times). These officers went unarmed among the rebels, in order to show their peaceful intent. After five weeks, the negotiations resulted in the surrender of the chiefs.
The Peace Indaba with the Matopo RebelsMr. Cecil Rhodes carried out the peace negotiations with the Matabele chiefs. He was assisted by Dr. Sauer (on his left) and Capt. Colenbrander (on his right), and accompanied by Mr. Stent (war correspondent of theCape Times). These officers went unarmed among the rebels, in order to show their peaceful intent. After five weeks, the negotiations resulted in the surrender of the chiefs.
The Peace Indaba with the Matopo Rebels
Mr. Cecil Rhodes carried out the peace negotiations with the Matabele chiefs. He was assisted by Dr. Sauer (on his left) and Capt. Colenbrander (on his right), and accompanied by Mr. Stent (war correspondent of theCape Times). These officers went unarmed among the rebels, in order to show their peaceful intent. After five weeks, the negotiations resulted in the surrender of the chiefs.
Unfortunately, I was not able to have any further say in the matter myself, as I was now down with dysentery, and on the sick–list. But, eventually, on the 22nd August, Cecil Rhodes, with Dr. Sauer and Captain Colenbrander, went into the Matopos to meet the rebel leaders, near the koppie where Kershaw was killed on the 5th.
Jan Grootboom, the native scout, was sent on into the hills to summon the indunas, and presently they appeared, following Grootboom, who carried the white flag at their head, with an air of immense importance. Among the chiefs were Umlugulu, Sikombo, Somabulana, Hliso, Manyoba, Malevu, Inyanda, Babyan, and over thirty other indunas. Rhodes sat on an ant–heap, with Dr. Sauer on his left, Colenbrander on his right, and Stent, of theCape Times, just behind him.
Rhodes got up to salute the chiefs in their own language, and stood out in the centre to do so; all were in silence awaiting his opening word. He stood, and paused, and, smiling, had to turn and ask, “Whatisthat word?”
[It was “Umhlope,” which is the usual salutation of peace after war.]
Somabulana then opened the indaba (conference), and, as spokesman for the Matabele, said that they had been driven to rebellion chiefly by the official bullying on the part of the Native Police. When he had done, Sikombo went on to charge five of the Native Commissioners with abuse of their powers. The chiefs wound up by saying they merely wanted justice, and would be glad to end the war. Rhodes promised there should be an alteration as regards the Native Police, and said that if they intended now to lay down their arms, their complaints would all be taken into consideration. Sikombo laid down his gun and assegai at Rhodes’ feet, and said that this indaba represented the nation “as its eyes and ears,” and that all they wanted was to live at peace with the whites. Then he was asked why it was that the Matabele, in breaking out, had exceeded the usual rules of war, and had murdered women and children? And he said it was because white men had been reported to be doing the same thing. It was then pointed out to the chiefs that nothing could be done unless they and all their people laid down their arms; and the chiefs agreed to bring all their people out of the hills within the next few days, and so that conference ended.
[P.S.—It was not till 13th October, after many further conferences, that a final settlement was come to.]
A squadron of the 7th Hussars now arrived at Buluwayo, under Major Ridley, having completed a long patrol through the Guai district, finally breaking up such small parties of rebels as remained there, and bringing about their general surrender.
The situation in Matabeleland now is as follows:—
The whole of the north of the country is clear and peaceful; in the south the rebels are treating for peace in the Matopos; but, in the east and north–east, bodies of them are still massed in the outlying districts. In the east, in the Belingwe district, about a hundred miles from Buluwayo, Wedza still remains in active rebellion, supported by various small chiefs occupying mountain strongholds. In the Selukwe district, just south of Gwelo, two chiefs, Monogola and Indema, still resist all efforts to reduce them. To the north–east of Gwelo, in the Maven district, at least one strong impi is collected; and the Somabula forest, north–west of Gwelo, and a hundred miles north–east of Buluwayo, is reported to be full of rebels. On the borders of this forest is the great grain district belonging to Uwini, who hasseveral different tribes dependent on him for their supply and direction. Moreover, M’tini, who had been defeated in July at Taba–si–ka–Mamba, has retreated on to the Shangani, and now has his impi in full work there, under the orders of M’qwati, the local M’limo, and it maintains small posts on all the chief paths to prevent well–disposed natives from coming in to surrender or to take refuge with us.
Colonel Paget, with a column of Imperial troops (7th Hussars and Mounted Infantry), is moving through South Matabeleland,viâTuli and Victoria, to Gwelo.
Such is the situation to–day (22nd August); and Ridley’s column of 7th Hussars and Mounted Infantry, having completed their work in the Guai district, are at Buluwayo, and will now be sent against the Somabula. And, were I well enough, it is probable that I should be sent in command; but here I am on my back, limp and washed–out, and really thin this time! And only a short time ago I was thinking that I had never been so fit in my life, and certainly never burnt so brown a colour! I am having a poor time of it, but it is not so bad as it might be; Sir Frederick is more than kind to me, and spends all his leisure alongside my bed, at all times ofthe day and at odd hours of the night, telling me how things are going on, and soothing my disappointment at not being able to get out into the field. Then, I am wonderfully lucky in having an excellent doctor, Dr. Strong, and a most excellent cook—not that I require much, but that little has to be of the right kind. This is not a very large world, and the lady who runs the neighbouring restaurant, being told to supply me with invalid food, came in to see me, to inquire into my symptoms herself, as she had formerly been a hospital nurse, and therefore thoroughly understood what one ought to take; but before becoming a hospital nurse, she had learned the art of cooking in the kitchen of the Powells of Dorking, our cousins. Having made this discovery, and having thereby gained a personal interest in me, she has exerted herself to the utmost, and has fully succeeded in supplying me with the most appetising food possible under the circumstances.
26th August.—Ridley’s column started to–day for the Shangani, and though I am now feeling quite well, the doctor would not allow me even to think of going with it. I have seldom felt so down about my luck before.
Meantime, in the Matopos, negotiations arestill going on about the surrender, but the rebels do not seem over anxious to give in. At an indaba to–day, a hundred young warriors, with two chiefs, met Cecil Rhodes and party, and talked to them pretty cheekily. They said that unless they had their rights they had no desire to come in. All these men carried rifles and bandoliers full of cartridges.
One of them, named Karl Kamarlo, had been captured by us in the early days of the outbreak, had been tried and been sentenced to be shot; he was taken outside the town by two troopers, and was there shot by them. One shot struck him in the forehead and apparently came out at the back of his head, and the other struck him through the shoulder and he was left lying on the ground. When the burying party came out for him, they could not find him. It appears that the bullet which struck him on the head was not strong enough for his skull, and merely glanced round under his scalp without breaking the bone, and came out through the skin at the back, giving the appearance of a shot clean through his head. By this wound the man was merely stunned, and when his executioners had retired, having, as they thought, carried out the penalty ofthe law, he got up and walked off in the other direction. It is now said that he intends to sue the Company for assault and personal injury! Another man present at the indaba asked if our doctor could do anything for him, as in the fight of the 5th he had been standing almost in the line of fire of the Maxim, and in one instant had received nine wounds in his side and leg, most of them very slight; he had been practically crimped as if with an iron rake.
There seem to be various opinions here as regards the surrender. One says that the rebels should be made to surrender entirely unconditionally, and should only be allowed to do so on condition of their giving up their arms, and such of their number as are guilty of murder. Others say that that is right enough in theory, but if the rebels refuse, as they very probably would, it means part of the force trying to fight them during the rainy season, while the other part will have to be withdrawn from the country owing to inability to supply them. Sickness and reverses will probably result, and in the end the murderers will not have been caught; whereas, if told that they can now surrender and reoccupy their kraals and sow their crops, the capture of the murderers and the thorough armamentcan afterwards be effectually carried out by the police. And the police, by occupying fortified posts in all the grain–growing districts, will thus have the whip hand of the natives, as they can prevent them from sowing or from reaping any crops at will.
This question of supply and transport is very pressing. We are using all the transport we can lay our hands on, and yet we can only manage to keep our present wants fairly well supplied; while the reserve which we want to lay down, ready for the rainy season, is only being formed at a very slow rate. Towards the end of November the rains will set in, the roads then become impassable, and the mules die of horse–sickness. We therefore want to lay down a sufficient reserve of food in the meantime to carry us through the four months at least of rains; but we cannot get contractors to tender for the transport, and it is very difficult to purchase even in Cape Colony. The oxen up here are all dead, and ox waggons coming up from the Cape are not allowed to return thither, for fear of spreading the rinderpest. The Transvaal border touches ours near Tuli, and we might get supplies in that way but the Boer Government will not allow the export of foodstuffs from their country, fearing famine for themselves.
ill-261
Routes to Matabeleland and MashonalandThe above sketch shows the approximate distances that supplies had to travel from Cape Town in order to reach the respective centres at Buluwayo and Salisbury—Cape Town to Buluwayo, 1487 miles; Cape Town to Salisbury, 2050 miles.
Routes to Matabeleland and MashonalandThe above sketch shows the approximate distances that supplies had to travel from Cape Town in order to reach the respective centres at Buluwayo and Salisbury—Cape Town to Buluwayo, 1487 miles; Cape Town to Salisbury, 2050 miles.
Routes to Matabeleland and Mashonaland
The above sketch shows the approximate distances that supplies had to travel from Cape Town in order to reach the respective centres at Buluwayo and Salisbury—Cape Town to Buluwayo, 1487 miles; Cape Town to Salisbury, 2050 miles.
Meanwhile, great events have been going on in Mashonaland. Rebellion, as I said before, broke out there on the 16th June. Bands of Matabele rebels had made their way to Mashonaland after the first defeats near Buluwayo. They spread reports among Mashonas that the whites had allbeen killed in Matabeleland, and that now was the time to rise and similarly put an end to their rule in Mashonaland; and they threatened that, in the event of the Mashonas not rising, the whole of the Matabele nation under Lobengularedivivuswould shortly be down on them. A few Native Commissioners in touch with their people might have counteracted these reports, but none did so, and consequently rebellion broke out, as it had done in Matabeleland, with the sudden and brutal murders of whites—men, women, and little children—in all parts of the country.
Townships went into laager, local defence forces were organised to the number of eight hundred men, Judge Vintcent being Commandant–General. Rescue patrols went out to bring in outlying settlers and miners. But here again arose the insurmountable difficulty of transport. There was only one road, namely, thatviâUmtali to the coast at Beira, by which food could come. This road extended for over 200 miles across the veldt, and then met the railway in Portuguese territory which partially connected it with the coast; thus the whole distance for Mashonaland supplies to come was: Cape Town to Beira, 1700 miles; by river, 50 miles; by rail, 100 miles; by road, 200 miles; total, 2050. This road was interceptednear Umtali, and held by a powerful tribe of rebels under Makoni.
Reserve supplies in the country did not amount to anything dependable, and could only last the defenders for a few weeks at most.
The rebels in Mashonaland occupied chiefly the districts round Salisbury and the Salisbury–Umtali road, and the district east and south–east of Charter. They are by nature far less warlike than the Matabele, and are not given to attacking in the open, but content themselves with murdering helpless farmers, waggon and other small parties, and then retire to their fortified kraals and cave strongholds if attacked.
On the 18th June, Captain Turner, who was on his way through Mashonaland with a troop of fifty Natal volunteers for Matabeleland when the Mashonas broke out, went to the rescue of White at the Beatrice Mine, but was attacked in some narrow gorges by masses of rebels, and compelled to retire with a loss of three killed and three wounded.
On the 19th June, Captain Nesbit made a very plucky dash with thirteen men to rescue some white settlers, including two women, at Mazoe, thirty miles north of Salisbury. He had to fight his way through the rebels to get there, and the party had a running fight of it for nearly the whole wayback against heavy odds, the enemy rushing up to within a few yards at the time. Gallant work was done on this occasion by Messrs. Ogilvy and Harbord, who acted as advanced guard to the party. The waggonette in which the women were conveyed had been “armour–plated” with sheets of corrugated iron, but nearly all the mules were killed or wounded. Five men were killed and five wounded, and eight horses killed. But in the end the gallant little band got into Salisbury.
Captain Bremner, 20th Hussars, whose services had been placed at the General’s disposal, was, in accordance with Sir Frederick’s directions, making his way to Salisbury to act as staff officer there. He was caught by the rebelsen routeand killed, together with one or two settlers at whose house he was resting. The loss of this useful officer was a great blow to us, especially at this juncture, when things wanted organising in Mashonaland.
Towards the end of June the following relief parties arrived in Mashonaland from Matabeleland:—namely, Beal with 133 men, Watts 100, White 65 (Grey’s and Gifford’s Scouts); the latter column especially made a wonderfully rapid march, and did some dashing work. And from the Cape there arrived,viâBeira, 500 Imperial troops underColonel Alderson. These consisted of 240 mounted infantry, 100 R.E. and R.A. and M.S.C., 150 West Riding Regiment, 50 York and Lancaster Regiment.
Their disembarkation and transport by rail was effected under great difficulties, owing to want of proper tugs, lighters, wharves, rolling stock, etc. One lot stuck in the mud in the Pungwe River for twenty–four hours; a train ran off the line and killed several of the horses, another train collided with the wreckage, and Colonel Alderson and others on the engine had to jump for their lives. But in spite of all obstacles the force made its way rapidly into Mashonaland. It turned and attacked Makoni’s position, defeating him and taking his fortified kraal; 200 of the enemy were killed, 350 head of cattle and a number of prisoners taken, our losses being 4 killed and 5 wounded. Among the killed was Captain Haynes, shot while escalading the wall of Makoni’s head kraal. The force then went on attacking various other tribes along the road, establishing frequent fortified posts as it went, and in this way secured the safety of the supply route to Salisbury, and brought much–needed supplies into that place.
Alderson is now in local command of all the forces in Mashonaland, receiving his instructionsfrom the General here by telegraph. By means of strong columns he is now breaking up the rebels in various directions, and forcing them out of their strongholds. But this latter is a particularly dangerous and unpleasant work, since the strongholds in Mashonaland consist, as a rule, of koppies undermined in all directions with caves and crannies, in which a very few determined men can hold their own against almost any number. But Tommy Atkins is reported to be quite equal to the occasion, and apparently delights in the novel form of getting killed. Alderson’s total force amounts to 2200 men and 580 horses.
Sir Frederick Carrington’s management of this extended force operating in a country which is equal in size to Spain, France, and Italy put together, is like a man playing on a small piano to a large room full of people. Our room is over 600 miles in length, and the piano a very small one, because the doorway (the transport and supply) is too small to admit a larger one. The piano’s notes are eight small field columns, seven laagered towns, and twenty–four fortified posts. He plays them by telegraph from his music–stool at Buluwayo, and has to make them reach every corner of the room. He burns to be out himself with one or other of the columns, but it cannot be; he has tosit here to read the music and to play the notes accordingly, to pull the ropes, to consult with the other heads who have to be consulted, and to be at the end of the wire for communication with the High Commissioner at the Cape.
Extract from a Letter Home
“28th August.—.... Your two letters of 17th and 24th July just received. Yes, you are quite right. We would do much better here if we had three times the number of men.But—we could not by any possibility feed them if theywerehere. Even to feed our present force through the approaching wet season, when roads will become impassable, requires four million pounds of food extra to what we have got here and on the road—i.e.600 extra waggons; and we cannot get anybody to tender for the job. There are so few oxen left in South Africa. That is why we have to go on as best we can with this little force.
“You ask about our climate here. Well, what is your ideal of a perfect climate? Because that would about express it. Bright sun always, breeze all day, thermometer 70° in the shade at midday, cool nights. Doors and windowsalwaysopen. In town the dust is the only drawback to it all.In camp there is not a tent or any shelter, except a few branches to keep off the wind. We all live entirely in the open, and it is delightful.
“I am keeping an illustrated diary for you.”
It may be of use, in case of future expeditions of this kind, to jot down what kit I have found best for the work.
I.On yourself.
Hat.—A “cowboy” broad–brimmed felt hat with ventilating holes punched in the crown, and a brown silk puggree. The hat is better than a helmet, because it shades the whole of the face, and so prevents the awful infliction, veldt sores on the face, cracked lips, and burned nose; and it protects the nape of the neck and temples from the sun; can be slept in, and suffers no damage from rough usage, and does not interfere with the aim when shooting; it is light, and so does not cause weariness or headache as the helmet often does; it protects the face and ears better than the helmet does in going through thick bush, the brim turning down with the pressure of the branches.
Neckerchief.—A grey–coloured handkerchief loosely tied round the neck prevents sunburn, and can be tightened up at night as a comforter.
ill269
Our Working Kit
Our Working Kit
Our Working Kit
Shirt.—Brown or light–grey flannel.
Cummerbund.—Grey or brown flannel cummerbund saves dysentery, chills, etc., especially at night.
Breeches.—Kharki cord, with back pocket to hold notebook and field bandage.
Gaiters.—Brown soft leather (some men prefer putties, but I think gaiters best for coolness, ease in taking on and off, and for circulation of the blood). Instead of breeches and gaiters, many men wear trousers of moleskin or other strong material.
Boots.—Shooting boots, strong, well–dubbed. In wet weather indiarubber soles are very slippery, but in dry weather, on rocks, they are perfect. Rubber–soled shoes should be carried on the wallets.
Spurs.—The Colonial fashion of wearing one spur only is not a bad one where mounted infantry work is to be done. The spur should be very short, so as not to trip you when on foot.
Coat.—Burberry kharki gabardine, carried by day rolled up on the pommel of the saddle. Nightcap in one of the pockets, also a warm muffler.
Waistcoat.—A Cardigan waistcoat or a sweater (grey or brown) is a very great comfort—can be carried rolled inside the coat during the heat of the day.
Watch.—Wrist–watch, with very thick hands, and lever action, as made by Dent (Charing Cross).
Belt.—Brown leather, with rings or dees to hang things on. These include—
Revolver.—Service pattern in an open “cowboy” holster, with cord lanyard round your neck.
Whistle.—Secured to the belt (or round the neck) by a cord sufficiently long to allow it to reach your mouth.
Knife.—Comprising tin–opener, turnscrew, corkscrew, skinning blade, borer, tweezers, etc.
Pipe and Tobacco.—Ditto.
II.On your horse.
Saddle.—The Colonial military saddle.
Wallets.—Slung across the cantle, where they are far more handy than in front (see photo).
Much of the above can be carried in the pockets of the coat if more room is wanted in the wallets for rations.
Cooking “Billy”in leathern case on the cantle. The Bechuanaland Border Police pattern of “billy” is very good, and carries its own drinking–cup. Your ration of meat can be carried in the “billy.”
Shoes with indiarubber solesstrapped on outside the wallets.
Carbine.—Lee–Metford Sporting Magazine Rifle, or the cavalry L.–M. carbine are very good, but involve carrying a bandolier. A Colt’s repeater carries its own fourteen rounds, but if it jams or gets out of order, is difficult to repair on the veldt. The carbine bucket is merely a shoe in which the butt of the rifle rests, while the barrel is kept near the side under your arm or attached to the arm by a loop of cord.
The carbine should be fitted with a brown leather sling by which it can be carried across the back when climbing or when riding (wherethere is no possibility of meeting an enemy or a buck), or it can be hung from the point of the shoulder, ready for immediate use.
Blanketis worn under the saddle, with a numnah between it and the horse’s back to prevent its becoming wet and sour with sweat.
Bridle.—Ordinary military head–collar with a “9th Lancer” or “Pelham” bit, and a “reim” (thong) for tying up or knee–haltering the horse.
CHAPTER XIThe Downfall of Uwini8th September to 14th SeptemberStart for the Somabula Forest to find Ridley’s Column—Native Pantomimic Description of a Battle—The British Subaltern—Taba–si–ka–Mamba—Bread–Making—Difficulty in Finding the Column—A Vision Fulfilled—A Man’s Toys—Meeting with Vyvyan—Join, and assume Command of the Column—The Wounded Men—How Uwini was captured—Why he was tried—Cutting off the Enemy’s Water–Supply—The Somabula Forest—Execution of Uwini—A Soldier Missing—A Fruitless Night March—A Battle between Friends—Start for the Somabula—We raid Lozan’s District.6th September.—I am now back at work again in the office, but only doing it indifferently well; Vyvyan is away with Ridley’s column, and meantime Nicholson is helping me in the office. He has been marvellously quick at picking up the threads of the office work, and consequently is of the greatest assistance.7th September.—Sir Frederick has to–day given me a better tonic than any which the combinedmedical faculty of Buluwayo could devise. He has told me that he is anxious for me to go and take charge of the column which is now under Ridley in the Somabula Forest. He has privately consulted Dr. Strong, who has been looking after me, and he considers that I may now safely go. After hearing this, it did not take long for me to get ready. Packing my kit on one horse and riding another, I said good–bye to Buluwayo, and with my nigger Diamond riding a third horse and leading a fourth, I started this afternoon, and am now camped for the night on the Umguza River, where some of Plumer’s men are stationed.8th September.—Took with me three of Plumer’s men as escort, viz. Troopers Abrahamson, White, and Parkin, each with two horses and three days’ rations. We started at sunrise to follow up Ridley’s column. I could picture nothing more to my taste than a ride of from eighty to one hundred miles in a wild country, with three good men, and plenty of excitement in having to keep a good look–out for the enemy, enjoying splendid weather, shirt–sleeves, and a reviving feeling of health and freedom. Everything promised to make it one of the delightful times of my life. But before we had gone ten miles, I found I wasn’t very fit; at sixteen miles we off–saddled, and a cup of tea refreshed me,but I could not eat. I began to have thoughts of sending back for a cart to bring me ignominiously home again. However, after an hour’s rest, I reflected that it was only a natural weakness after being so long on the sick–list. So we went on for nine miles, to where Mr. Fynn was camped on a farm belonging to Arthur Rhodes (better known as “the M’limo”). Fynn is here collecting together native prisoners and refugees, and giving them ground on which to sow their crops. My thanks to you, Fynn, for that arm–chair where I slept most happily, and then the excellent tea and boiled rice, followed by another spell in the arm–chair! While resting here, three rebels came in to surrender, and they told us how the white troops, meaning Ridley’s column, were several days on ahead, and that two days ago they had surrounded the rebels and had kept firing on them for the whole of one day and part of the next; one of the niggers went through a pantomime descriptive of the battle, and showed us how, during the fight, he himself lay low in a donga, and heard first the single shots of the white men replied to by the deeper bang of the native muskets, then the increasing rattle and roar of musketry, then the rapid tap, tap, tap of the Maxim, mingled with the crack of volleys and the roar of 7–pounders. He imitated all the soundsbeautifully, as well as the crouching attack of the skirmishers, the falling of the wounded rebels, and the flight of the remainder. His action was perfect, but I eventually discovered it was all a lie from beginning to end. No such fight had taken place—he merely made it up, as he hoped to please us; but meantime I was miserable at the thought that the action had come off and I was too late for it. At the same time, it aroused my impatience, and we pressed on that evening eight miles farther to the Bembezi River. There we off–saddled and coiled down in the dark, taking turns to keep watch. It was a lovely night, but was rather spoilt during my watch by a beastly hyæna coming and sniffing around, and growling and snarling at us every now and then.9th September.—Started at daybreak, and got to Inyati (fourteen miles) by eight o’clock. Here we found Terry of the 7th Hussars with six men occupying a small fort. Their life did not seem too cheery; small fort, open flat, blazing sun, and flies innumerable. Rudyard Kipling would well describe this young sprig, fresh from Charterhouse, accepting the surrender of numbers of Lobengula’s trusted old warriors. He had under his charge in the fort stores of food and grain, for the better protection of which he had drawn largely on theroof of the mission church across the flat. After breakfasting here, we pressed on again under a blazing sun, hoping for water, but finding none. On and on over yellow, grassy, bush–grown flats for fourteen miles, till we struck a river bed in which were a few pools of water. Here I lay down utterly done up, but after a wash in a pool and some tea, I soon got all right, and in the cool of the evening we went on another four miles to the Longwe River. Like nearly all the so–called rivers here, it was but a river bed of sand, in which one had to dig for water. We found here a convoy of four waggons with supplies for Ridley’s column, but they could give us no information as to where he was camped, or how far ahead he might be; they were merely following along on his track. They had a strong escort, and were quite prepared to take care of themselves in the event of an attack. Among the troopers on escort was one Madden, an old Swaziland acquaintance. Our two days’ journey had brought us respectively thirty–three and thirty–two miles from Buluwayo,—a total of sixty–five.ill280Giants’ PlaythingsSpecimens of fantastic granite rocks seen in Matabeleland and Mashonaland.10th September.—Again we started at daybreak, and passed by Taba–si–ka–Mamba, a mass of jumbled–up koppies, six miles by three, which had formed one of the chief rebel strongholds in this part of the country, until Plumer’s force had stormed the place, and driven the enemy out, on the 6th July last. The rocks and koppies here, like those in the Matopos, are piles of granite boulders, and in many cases assume most fantastic forms. Here and there they look like castles on the top of peaks; in other places, like gigantic loaves of bread, and in one place there was a tower of five of them placed one on top of the other for a height of nearly a hundred feet. We rode on until we came to the next river, the Umsangwe, a distance of ten miles; it was blazing hot, and I now began to feel a very poor creature. It was too far to go back again, and we could only hope that the column was not very far ahead, especially as we had not too much quantity orvariety of food with us. I lay up during the heat of the day with a waterproof sheet spread over a thorn–bush as a shelter from the sun. The men dug water in the sand, washed, and baked bread. To bake bread, lay your coat on the ground, inside upwards, mix the flour and water in it (it doesn’t show when you put the coat on again); for yeast or baking powder use the juice of the toddy palm or Eno’s Fruit Salt to make a light dough; scrape a circle in the ashes of the fire, flop your lump of dough down on to it, flour the dough, spread fine sand all round and all over it, then heap the embers of the fire on to it; in half an hour an excellent flat loaf of bread results. It requires scrubbing with a horse–brush before you eat it. At half–past three we saddled up and trekked on to the Shangani River, which was only four miles farther on. It is a mighty river on the map, but is nothing more in nature than the usual sand river–bed with occasional pools, the sand being about a hundred and fifty yards wide, with reed–grown banks on either side. To get water, you have to scrape out a hole of two feet deep, and fairly good water comes immediately. We had brought a nigger guide with us from Inyati, and he said that Ridley’s column would be found on the Uvunkwe River, and that this wasonly a short distance on from the Shangani; so we pressed on. But as night closed in, our nigger got frightened, and he told us that there were Matabele about. We replied that that was exactly the reason why we had come there. Then he said that the next water was so far off, that if we trotted the whole night, we should not get there till long after sunrise next day. We tried for a bit to get on in the dark, but rain had fallen since Ridley’s column had passed along and had destroyed the spoor; we had no water, and only two days’ food; our nigger guide was evidently unreliable: so we turned back to the Shangani, and there bivouacked for the night, taking it in turns, as usual, to keep watch.11th September.—My anniversary of joining Her Majesty’s Service, 1876–1896—twenty years. I always think more of this anniversary than of that of my birth, and I could not picture a more enjoyable way of spending it. I am here, out in the wilds, with three troopers. They are all Afrikanders, that is, Colonial born, one an ex–policeman, another a mining engineer (went to England with me in 1889 on board theMexican), the third an electrical engineer from Johannesburg,—all of them good men on the veldt, and good fighting men. We are nearly eighty miles fromBuluwayo and thirty from the nearest troops. I have rigged up a shelter from the sun with my blanket, a rock, and a thorn–bush; thirteen thousand flies are unfortunately staying with me, and are awfully attentive.One of us is always on the look–out by night and by day. Our stock of food, crockery, cooking utensils, and bedding does not amount to anything much, as we carry it all on our saddles.Once, not very long ago, at an afternoon “At Home,” I was handing a cup of tea to an old dowager, who bridled up in a mantle with bugles and beads, and some one noticed that in doing so my face wore an absent look, and I was afterwards asked where my thoughts were at that time. I could only reply that “My mind was a blank, with a single vision in it, lower half yellow, upper half blue,” in other words, the yellow veldt of South Africa, topped with the blue South African sky. Possibly the scent of the tea had touched some memory chord which connected it with my black tin billy, steaming among the embers of a wood fire; but whatever it was then, my vision is to–day a reality. I am looking out on the yellow veldt and the blue sky; the veldt with its grey, hazy clumps of thorn bush is shimmering in the heat, and its vast expanse is only broken by the gleaming whitesand of the river bed and the green reeds and bushes which fringe its banks. (Interruption: Stand to the tent! a “Devil,” with its roaring pillar of dust and leaves, comes tearing by.) I used to think that the novelty of the thing would wear off, that these visions of the veldt would fade away as civilised life grew upon me. But they didn’t. They came again at most inopportune moments: just when I ought to be talking “The World,” or “Truth,” or “Modern Society” (with the cover removed), and making my reputation as a “sensible, well–informed man, my dear,” with the lady in the mantle, somebody in the next room has mentioned the word saddle, or rifle, or billy, or some other attribute of camp life, and off goes my mind at a tangent to play with its toys. Old Oliver Wendell Holmes is only too true when he says that most of us are “boys all our lives”; we have our toys, and will play with them with as much zest at eighty as at eight, that in their company we can never grow old. I can’t help it if my toys take the form of all that has to do with veldt life, and if they remain my toys till I drop—“Then here’s to our boyhood, its gold and its grey,The stars of its winter, the dews of its May;And when we have done with our life–lasting toys,Dear Father, take care of Thy children, the boys.”May it not be that our toys are the various media adapted to individual tastes through which men may know their God?As Ramakrishna Paramahansa writes: “Many are the names of God and infinite the forms that lead us to know of Him. In whatsoever name or form you desire to know Him, in that very name and form you will know Him.”In the afternoon I rode out with one of the men some ten miles down the Shangani River, to see if we could find any spoor of the enemy crossing the sandy bed or coming to get water there, but we only found the separate tracks of three men at all fresh, though we found hundreds of old tracks. As we came in sight of our bivouac on our return, my man said, “There is a strange horse grazing with ours; someone has come to the camp;” and it was true enough—we had a visitor. Vyvyan, who was acting as staff officer to Ridley, had received my note which I had sent on by runners, saying that I was coming out to take command of the column, and that he was to return to Buluwayo to act as chief staff officer. From him I ascertained that the column was only twenty–five miles away, and had not yet had a big fight, although it had lost a few men in taking some of the innumerable koppies in whichthe rebels of that part had taken refuge. So towards evening we saddled up and moved on, Vyvyan going on to Buluwayo with one man as escort, and I and my little party continuing our way eastward. We went on for three hours until the moon set, and then bivouacked for the night.12th September.—On again at daybreak, through thick bush country, in which were numerous granite boulder koppies. Everywhere we found more or less recent tracks of natives, and the wheel–marks of Ridley’s waggons once more became pretty well defined. Our horses were now beginning to get done—indeed, one of mine was doing his best to die; so, knowing that we must be near Ridley’s camp, I pressed on ahead of the party leaving them to follow more leisurely. Presently I came across two niggers hiding in the bush, but evidently unarmed and afraid to run away. From them I managed to elicit that the camp was not far off, and they soon put me on the right path to it, and I got in in time for a late breakfast. The laager was formed in an open spot, surrounded on all sides at a short distance by eight koppies which formed the strongholds of the enemy. One of these koppies had been attacked and taken two days previously, and thechief of the tribe had been there captured. But we had lost one man killed and four wounded, and there still remained seven koppies to be taken. One of my first acts in camp, after taking over command of the column, was to visit the hospital, where I found one man with his hand amputated; he bore it very well, and, being one of the best football players of the 7th Hussars, he was in good training, and therefore but little affected by it. When I said I hoped it would not spoil his football in the future, he laughed and said that as he played the Association game, he would be all the better without a hand. Another poor chap had a great double wound in his thigh (all unbandaged for my edification); and another, who was yesterday a particularly handsome young hussar, has to–day a horrible caricature of a face, with the whole of his lower jaw shot away. And with what object? Merely to get half a dozen frightened niggers out of their holes in the rocks. Then I was shown the chief who had been captured—Uwini by name. He was badly wounded in the shoulder, but, enraged at being a prisoner, he would allow nothing to be done for him; no sooner had the surgeon bandaged him than he tore the dressings off again. He was a fine, truculent–looking savage, and boasted that he hadalways been able to hold his own against any enemies in this stronghold of his, but now that he was captured he only wished to die. His capture had been most pluckily effected by Captain van Niekerk and two of his men. When his kraal was taken by the troops, Uwini had scrambled down into the labyrinth of caves which ran through the rocks on which the kraal was built. Trooper Halifax and another crawled in after him, and followed him from one point to another of his refuge, often firing and being fired at by him. After some hours of this game of hide–and–seek, Halifax had managed to wound the chief; they then followed him up with a lighted candle, tracking him by his blood spoor, until they finally cornered him in a cleft of the rocks from which he could not escape. He was so disabled by his wound as to be unable to fire on them, and they made him a prisoner.It now rested with me to decide what should be our next step. We had lost five men killed and wounded in taking one koppie, and there still remained seven to be taken, which were just as strongly held as the first one; consequently we must expect to lose a number of men before we finally effected our purpose, and the probability was that we should not do thisbefore we had first killed a large number of the rebels. The Native Commissioner of this part had been murdered by the rebels and his police had joined them, so that civil power in the district had ceased to exist. There was in camp, however, an acting Native Commissioner, Mr. V. Gielgud, who was to assume the post of Commissioner so soon as the rebels could be induced to surrender. This officer was most anxious that I should try Uwini by court–martial, for the following reasons:—Uwini was not only the leading chief of that part of the country, but was one of the four chiefs of the whole of Matabeleland who were supposed to be specially endowed by the M’limo, the god of the people; he was therefore in their eyes sacred, invulnerable, and infallible. He was well known to be the instigator of rebellion, and of several specific murders of whites in the district. His immediate punishment, then and there, would do more than anything else to restore our prestige and bring about the surrender of rebels, not only of his own tribe, but probably of the neighbouring tribes as well.The chief, when asked by us to call upon his people to surrender, now that he was captured, absolutely declined to make any such proposition to them. He said that he had ordered them intorebellion, and had told them to fight to the last, and he was not now going to go back on his orders. He is a plucky and stubborn old villain. Time is very pressing, as we are getting constant information of rebels massing in three directions within reach of us, and to catch them we ought to be on the move at once; so I have determined to try him by court–martial, as any deserved punishment would certainly save much bloodshed on both sides, would save much valuable time that would otherwise be lost in operations against the stronghold, and should bring about the rapid pacification of the whole district and the restoration of our prestige in these parts. There is no civil power to refer the case to, and by military law Uwini is a prisoner of war, and liable to trial by a military court; we are over a hundred miles from the General’s headquarters, so that I could not refer the case with any certainty of getting an answer within reasonable time; and also, I know of several other similar cases having been tried lately by court–martial (P.S.—I had not then heard of any exception having been taken to this course), and I have therefore given the order for his immediate trial by Field General Court–Martial.ill291Cold and HungryClothing a little rebel prisoner. (For sequel see page293.)ill293Warm And ComfortableThe little prisoner shows appreciation (with his right hand) of the late contents of the jampot in his left.Uwini’s kraal, like most others in this part of the country, was a large collection of thatched circular huts built on inaccessible crags of a small mountain; and above the kraal, on points of rocks, so as to be well out of the reach of thieves and marauders, were perched numerous corn–bins. These latter we could only reach by hoisting men up with ropes, but we were lucky in obtaining from them very large supplies of grain. Much of this we have used for feeding the women and children whom we had captured from this kraal, and these, spreading the news to others in other parts of the stronghold, have induced a good many of them to come and give themselves up to us.In order to help the rebels to make up their minds about surrendering, I have ordered piquets to be posted at all places from which they draw their water supply; these are generally small wells in the neighbourhood of the koppies occupied by them, and their usual time for getting water is during the dark hours of the night, so I hope that to–night we shall considerably astonish them when they come to get their supply for to–morrow.My force here consists of a squadron of the 7th Hussars under Captain Agnew, a company of the York and Lancaster Mounted Infantry under Captain Kekewich, a strong troop of the Afrikander Corps under Captain van Niekerk,three Maxims, a 7–pounder under Captain Boggie, field hospital under Surgeon Lieutenant–Colonel Gormley, ambulance, and waggons carrying about a month’s stores, a total of 360 men and horses.13th September.—During the night a lot of shots were fired by our piquet on the stronghold. I visited them at dawn and found they had killed two rebels who had come out to get water. I had a long talk with the prisoners and refugees who were in camp, and learned from them that the mass of the Matabele were now spread about in the Somabula Forest. This forest extends in a semicircle for a distance of over a hundred and fifty miles from Gwelo down to the Shangani, and varies in width from fifteen to thirty miles. It is not, as a rule, inhabited, owing to the dearth of water, but the enemy had now taken to it, hoping to find a safer refuge there. Our present camp is close to the edge of the forest, and is on the bank of the Uvunkwe River. This river runs along the side of the forest until it joins the Shangani some fifty miles from here. It seems to me that, by following down the Uvunkwe River for a short distance, and then striking through the forest to the Gwelo River, we should be able to come upon a large mass of the rebels who aresaid to be occupying a strong position in the hills.The court–martial assembled on Uwini this morning, and tried him on charges of armed rebellion, for ordering his people to murder whites, and for instigating rebellion in this part of the country. The court martial gave him a long hearing, in which he practically confessed to what was charged against him, and they found him guilty, and sentenced him to be shot. I was sorry for him—he was a fine old savage; but I signed his warrant, directing that he should be shot at sundown.During the day I went over the koppie that had formed Uwini’s main stronghold. It is a wonderfully strong mass of boulders about half a mile long and six hundred feet high. The approaches to it were strengthened by breastworks of stone and timber, and the mountain itself is honeycombed with caves. The cave in which Uwini was captured runs all through the mountain with innumerable ramifications. It is so narrow that in many places we had to crawl, now and then climbing up on our hands and knees, and sometimes having to creep down rough ladders made of tree–trunks. It was only then that we realised the difficulty that the men had had ineffecting his capture, and their pluck in following up an armed and desperate man in such a very nasty place.On my arrival in camp yesterday, it had been reported to me that one man of the Mounted Infantry, while out on patrol in the forest, had become separated from his party and was missing. Additional patrols had been sent out to search for him and though they had followed up his spoor for some distance, they had been unable to find him. To–day, again, patrols had gone out accompanied by native trackers, but towards evening they returned, having again been unsuccessful in finding him; they reported that his spoor led back in the direction of the camp, and so they had hoped he would have returned before them, but he has not yet returned. Luckily, he was carrying on his saddle the day’s rations for the other three men of his section, so that if he can only keep his head, and not overwork his horse, there is every hope that he will turn up again. But that is the worst of these men when they get lost,—they seem to lose their heads, and tear off in all directions, until they exhaust themselves and their horses, when they become a prey to the enemy or go out of their mind. At night we send up rockets and fire guns in orderto show the wanderer whereabouts the camp lies.At sunset all the natives in camp, both friendlies, refugees, and prisoners, were paraded to witness the execution of Uwini. He was taken out to an open place in the centre of his stronghold, where all his people who were still holding out could see what was being done, and he was there shot by a firing party from the troops.I have great hopes that the moral effect of this will be particularly good among the rebels, as he was the head and centre of revolution in these parts, and had come to be looked upon by them as a god. No doubt, when they have realised that he is after all but a mortal, that he has succumbed to our power, and that they have no other head to take his place, they won’t delay long to surrender.Indeed, I sent one old lady out to the rebel stronghold to–day to advise them to give themselves up, and to assure them that they could do so with perfect safety, but the old girl returned from her mission without bringing any of them with her. As she came back into camp, carrying her pass in a cleft stick, I was amused to hear one of the men say to her as she passed, “Hullo, old girl, are you back off furlough already?”300No Respecter of Persons“Hulloh, old gal! Back again off furlo’?” is the greeting of Tommy Atkins to an aged princess returning from a mission to the rebels.I had proposed to start off some of my column to the northward this evening, but in the afternoon a small boy came into camp and reported that there was a party of Matabele camped about fifteen miles away to the southward, on the Uvunkwe River, so I got Ridley to take fifty men and make a night march to attack them. The patrol started after dark, at seven o’clock, and very soon after they had left camp, we heard rapid firing in their direction. On sending out to ascertain the cause, we found that Ridley’s party, in passing near to the piquet which was guarding the enemy’s water–supply, had been mistaken by themfor Matabele, and had been fired on, but luckily no one was hurt. I ran in the officer of the piquet, and after hearing his explanation of how the mistake arose, I abused him roundly, not for making the mistake, for we are all of us liable to do that at times, but because, when he opened fire, his men were not able to hit the hussars. This hurt him more than the most violent reprimand, because he prided himself on the good shooting of his men.14th September.—Firing was kept up during the night by this piquet at frequent intervals. It was evident that the rebels were getting very thirsty; for two days and nights now they had not been allowed to get any water. During the few hours of darkness, just before dawn, numbers of them slipped away, and the remainder came and gave themselves up, many of them bringing in their arms. Thus, within a very few hours of his execution, the death of Uwini began to have its effect.Through the break–up of Uwini’s stronghold, large stores of grain fell into our hands, and as we have over a thousand prisoners and refugees now in camp, we have plenty of assistance in gathering it into a central store.Early in the morning Ridley and his patrol returned from their night march. They had foundthe enemy’s scherms deserted, the spoor showing that the Kafirs had cleared into the forest; they had had their long ride for nothing, and the only excitement they had encountered was that of being fired upon by our own piquet just after starting.Again the search party, which had been sent out to look for the missing man, returned unsuccessful; no further signs of him had been found, and I fear that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy.ill304The Shangan ColumnSketch map showing the country visited by this column. The dotted line shows the route of that patrol of the column which I accompanied, Kekewich’s and Ridley’s patrols working to our right rear, through the forest. Scale approximately 20 miles to 1 inch.
The Downfall of Uwini
8th September to 14th September
Start for the Somabula Forest to find Ridley’s Column—Native Pantomimic Description of a Battle—The British Subaltern—Taba–si–ka–Mamba—Bread–Making—Difficulty in Finding the Column—A Vision Fulfilled—A Man’s Toys—Meeting with Vyvyan—Join, and assume Command of the Column—The Wounded Men—How Uwini was captured—Why he was tried—Cutting off the Enemy’s Water–Supply—The Somabula Forest—Execution of Uwini—A Soldier Missing—A Fruitless Night March—A Battle between Friends—Start for the Somabula—We raid Lozan’s District.
6th September.—I am now back at work again in the office, but only doing it indifferently well; Vyvyan is away with Ridley’s column, and meantime Nicholson is helping me in the office. He has been marvellously quick at picking up the threads of the office work, and consequently is of the greatest assistance.
7th September.—Sir Frederick has to–day given me a better tonic than any which the combinedmedical faculty of Buluwayo could devise. He has told me that he is anxious for me to go and take charge of the column which is now under Ridley in the Somabula Forest. He has privately consulted Dr. Strong, who has been looking after me, and he considers that I may now safely go. After hearing this, it did not take long for me to get ready. Packing my kit on one horse and riding another, I said good–bye to Buluwayo, and with my nigger Diamond riding a third horse and leading a fourth, I started this afternoon, and am now camped for the night on the Umguza River, where some of Plumer’s men are stationed.
8th September.—Took with me three of Plumer’s men as escort, viz. Troopers Abrahamson, White, and Parkin, each with two horses and three days’ rations. We started at sunrise to follow up Ridley’s column. I could picture nothing more to my taste than a ride of from eighty to one hundred miles in a wild country, with three good men, and plenty of excitement in having to keep a good look–out for the enemy, enjoying splendid weather, shirt–sleeves, and a reviving feeling of health and freedom. Everything promised to make it one of the delightful times of my life. But before we had gone ten miles, I found I wasn’t very fit; at sixteen miles we off–saddled, and a cup of tea refreshed me,but I could not eat. I began to have thoughts of sending back for a cart to bring me ignominiously home again. However, after an hour’s rest, I reflected that it was only a natural weakness after being so long on the sick–list. So we went on for nine miles, to where Mr. Fynn was camped on a farm belonging to Arthur Rhodes (better known as “the M’limo”). Fynn is here collecting together native prisoners and refugees, and giving them ground on which to sow their crops. My thanks to you, Fynn, for that arm–chair where I slept most happily, and then the excellent tea and boiled rice, followed by another spell in the arm–chair! While resting here, three rebels came in to surrender, and they told us how the white troops, meaning Ridley’s column, were several days on ahead, and that two days ago they had surrounded the rebels and had kept firing on them for the whole of one day and part of the next; one of the niggers went through a pantomime descriptive of the battle, and showed us how, during the fight, he himself lay low in a donga, and heard first the single shots of the white men replied to by the deeper bang of the native muskets, then the increasing rattle and roar of musketry, then the rapid tap, tap, tap of the Maxim, mingled with the crack of volleys and the roar of 7–pounders. He imitated all the soundsbeautifully, as well as the crouching attack of the skirmishers, the falling of the wounded rebels, and the flight of the remainder. His action was perfect, but I eventually discovered it was all a lie from beginning to end. No such fight had taken place—he merely made it up, as he hoped to please us; but meantime I was miserable at the thought that the action had come off and I was too late for it. At the same time, it aroused my impatience, and we pressed on that evening eight miles farther to the Bembezi River. There we off–saddled and coiled down in the dark, taking turns to keep watch. It was a lovely night, but was rather spoilt during my watch by a beastly hyæna coming and sniffing around, and growling and snarling at us every now and then.
9th September.—Started at daybreak, and got to Inyati (fourteen miles) by eight o’clock. Here we found Terry of the 7th Hussars with six men occupying a small fort. Their life did not seem too cheery; small fort, open flat, blazing sun, and flies innumerable. Rudyard Kipling would well describe this young sprig, fresh from Charterhouse, accepting the surrender of numbers of Lobengula’s trusted old warriors. He had under his charge in the fort stores of food and grain, for the better protection of which he had drawn largely on theroof of the mission church across the flat. After breakfasting here, we pressed on again under a blazing sun, hoping for water, but finding none. On and on over yellow, grassy, bush–grown flats for fourteen miles, till we struck a river bed in which were a few pools of water. Here I lay down utterly done up, but after a wash in a pool and some tea, I soon got all right, and in the cool of the evening we went on another four miles to the Longwe River. Like nearly all the so–called rivers here, it was but a river bed of sand, in which one had to dig for water. We found here a convoy of four waggons with supplies for Ridley’s column, but they could give us no information as to where he was camped, or how far ahead he might be; they were merely following along on his track. They had a strong escort, and were quite prepared to take care of themselves in the event of an attack. Among the troopers on escort was one Madden, an old Swaziland acquaintance. Our two days’ journey had brought us respectively thirty–three and thirty–two miles from Buluwayo,—a total of sixty–five.
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Giants’ PlaythingsSpecimens of fantastic granite rocks seen in Matabeleland and Mashonaland.
Giants’ PlaythingsSpecimens of fantastic granite rocks seen in Matabeleland and Mashonaland.
Giants’ Playthings
Specimens of fantastic granite rocks seen in Matabeleland and Mashonaland.
10th September.—Again we started at daybreak, and passed by Taba–si–ka–Mamba, a mass of jumbled–up koppies, six miles by three, which had formed one of the chief rebel strongholds in this part of the country, until Plumer’s force had stormed the place, and driven the enemy out, on the 6th July last. The rocks and koppies here, like those in the Matopos, are piles of granite boulders, and in many cases assume most fantastic forms. Here and there they look like castles on the top of peaks; in other places, like gigantic loaves of bread, and in one place there was a tower of five of them placed one on top of the other for a height of nearly a hundred feet. We rode on until we came to the next river, the Umsangwe, a distance of ten miles; it was blazing hot, and I now began to feel a very poor creature. It was too far to go back again, and we could only hope that the column was not very far ahead, especially as we had not too much quantity orvariety of food with us. I lay up during the heat of the day with a waterproof sheet spread over a thorn–bush as a shelter from the sun. The men dug water in the sand, washed, and baked bread. To bake bread, lay your coat on the ground, inside upwards, mix the flour and water in it (it doesn’t show when you put the coat on again); for yeast or baking powder use the juice of the toddy palm or Eno’s Fruit Salt to make a light dough; scrape a circle in the ashes of the fire, flop your lump of dough down on to it, flour the dough, spread fine sand all round and all over it, then heap the embers of the fire on to it; in half an hour an excellent flat loaf of bread results. It requires scrubbing with a horse–brush before you eat it. At half–past three we saddled up and trekked on to the Shangani River, which was only four miles farther on. It is a mighty river on the map, but is nothing more in nature than the usual sand river–bed with occasional pools, the sand being about a hundred and fifty yards wide, with reed–grown banks on either side. To get water, you have to scrape out a hole of two feet deep, and fairly good water comes immediately. We had brought a nigger guide with us from Inyati, and he said that Ridley’s column would be found on the Uvunkwe River, and that this wasonly a short distance on from the Shangani; so we pressed on. But as night closed in, our nigger got frightened, and he told us that there were Matabele about. We replied that that was exactly the reason why we had come there. Then he said that the next water was so far off, that if we trotted the whole night, we should not get there till long after sunrise next day. We tried for a bit to get on in the dark, but rain had fallen since Ridley’s column had passed along and had destroyed the spoor; we had no water, and only two days’ food; our nigger guide was evidently unreliable: so we turned back to the Shangani, and there bivouacked for the night, taking it in turns, as usual, to keep watch.
11th September.—My anniversary of joining Her Majesty’s Service, 1876–1896—twenty years. I always think more of this anniversary than of that of my birth, and I could not picture a more enjoyable way of spending it. I am here, out in the wilds, with three troopers. They are all Afrikanders, that is, Colonial born, one an ex–policeman, another a mining engineer (went to England with me in 1889 on board theMexican), the third an electrical engineer from Johannesburg,—all of them good men on the veldt, and good fighting men. We are nearly eighty miles fromBuluwayo and thirty from the nearest troops. I have rigged up a shelter from the sun with my blanket, a rock, and a thorn–bush; thirteen thousand flies are unfortunately staying with me, and are awfully attentive.
One of us is always on the look–out by night and by day. Our stock of food, crockery, cooking utensils, and bedding does not amount to anything much, as we carry it all on our saddles.
Once, not very long ago, at an afternoon “At Home,” I was handing a cup of tea to an old dowager, who bridled up in a mantle with bugles and beads, and some one noticed that in doing so my face wore an absent look, and I was afterwards asked where my thoughts were at that time. I could only reply that “My mind was a blank, with a single vision in it, lower half yellow, upper half blue,” in other words, the yellow veldt of South Africa, topped with the blue South African sky. Possibly the scent of the tea had touched some memory chord which connected it with my black tin billy, steaming among the embers of a wood fire; but whatever it was then, my vision is to–day a reality. I am looking out on the yellow veldt and the blue sky; the veldt with its grey, hazy clumps of thorn bush is shimmering in the heat, and its vast expanse is only broken by the gleaming whitesand of the river bed and the green reeds and bushes which fringe its banks. (Interruption: Stand to the tent! a “Devil,” with its roaring pillar of dust and leaves, comes tearing by.) I used to think that the novelty of the thing would wear off, that these visions of the veldt would fade away as civilised life grew upon me. But they didn’t. They came again at most inopportune moments: just when I ought to be talking “The World,” or “Truth,” or “Modern Society” (with the cover removed), and making my reputation as a “sensible, well–informed man, my dear,” with the lady in the mantle, somebody in the next room has mentioned the word saddle, or rifle, or billy, or some other attribute of camp life, and off goes my mind at a tangent to play with its toys. Old Oliver Wendell Holmes is only too true when he says that most of us are “boys all our lives”; we have our toys, and will play with them with as much zest at eighty as at eight, that in their company we can never grow old. I can’t help it if my toys take the form of all that has to do with veldt life, and if they remain my toys till I drop—
“Then here’s to our boyhood, its gold and its grey,The stars of its winter, the dews of its May;And when we have done with our life–lasting toys,Dear Father, take care of Thy children, the boys.”
May it not be that our toys are the various media adapted to individual tastes through which men may know their God?
As Ramakrishna Paramahansa writes: “Many are the names of God and infinite the forms that lead us to know of Him. In whatsoever name or form you desire to know Him, in that very name and form you will know Him.”
In the afternoon I rode out with one of the men some ten miles down the Shangani River, to see if we could find any spoor of the enemy crossing the sandy bed or coming to get water there, but we only found the separate tracks of three men at all fresh, though we found hundreds of old tracks. As we came in sight of our bivouac on our return, my man said, “There is a strange horse grazing with ours; someone has come to the camp;” and it was true enough—we had a visitor. Vyvyan, who was acting as staff officer to Ridley, had received my note which I had sent on by runners, saying that I was coming out to take command of the column, and that he was to return to Buluwayo to act as chief staff officer. From him I ascertained that the column was only twenty–five miles away, and had not yet had a big fight, although it had lost a few men in taking some of the innumerable koppies in whichthe rebels of that part had taken refuge. So towards evening we saddled up and moved on, Vyvyan going on to Buluwayo with one man as escort, and I and my little party continuing our way eastward. We went on for three hours until the moon set, and then bivouacked for the night.
12th September.—On again at daybreak, through thick bush country, in which were numerous granite boulder koppies. Everywhere we found more or less recent tracks of natives, and the wheel–marks of Ridley’s waggons once more became pretty well defined. Our horses were now beginning to get done—indeed, one of mine was doing his best to die; so, knowing that we must be near Ridley’s camp, I pressed on ahead of the party leaving them to follow more leisurely. Presently I came across two niggers hiding in the bush, but evidently unarmed and afraid to run away. From them I managed to elicit that the camp was not far off, and they soon put me on the right path to it, and I got in in time for a late breakfast. The laager was formed in an open spot, surrounded on all sides at a short distance by eight koppies which formed the strongholds of the enemy. One of these koppies had been attacked and taken two days previously, and thechief of the tribe had been there captured. But we had lost one man killed and four wounded, and there still remained seven koppies to be taken. One of my first acts in camp, after taking over command of the column, was to visit the hospital, where I found one man with his hand amputated; he bore it very well, and, being one of the best football players of the 7th Hussars, he was in good training, and therefore but little affected by it. When I said I hoped it would not spoil his football in the future, he laughed and said that as he played the Association game, he would be all the better without a hand. Another poor chap had a great double wound in his thigh (all unbandaged for my edification); and another, who was yesterday a particularly handsome young hussar, has to–day a horrible caricature of a face, with the whole of his lower jaw shot away. And with what object? Merely to get half a dozen frightened niggers out of their holes in the rocks. Then I was shown the chief who had been captured—Uwini by name. He was badly wounded in the shoulder, but, enraged at being a prisoner, he would allow nothing to be done for him; no sooner had the surgeon bandaged him than he tore the dressings off again. He was a fine, truculent–looking savage, and boasted that he hadalways been able to hold his own against any enemies in this stronghold of his, but now that he was captured he only wished to die. His capture had been most pluckily effected by Captain van Niekerk and two of his men. When his kraal was taken by the troops, Uwini had scrambled down into the labyrinth of caves which ran through the rocks on which the kraal was built. Trooper Halifax and another crawled in after him, and followed him from one point to another of his refuge, often firing and being fired at by him. After some hours of this game of hide–and–seek, Halifax had managed to wound the chief; they then followed him up with a lighted candle, tracking him by his blood spoor, until they finally cornered him in a cleft of the rocks from which he could not escape. He was so disabled by his wound as to be unable to fire on them, and they made him a prisoner.
It now rested with me to decide what should be our next step. We had lost five men killed and wounded in taking one koppie, and there still remained seven to be taken, which were just as strongly held as the first one; consequently we must expect to lose a number of men before we finally effected our purpose, and the probability was that we should not do thisbefore we had first killed a large number of the rebels. The Native Commissioner of this part had been murdered by the rebels and his police had joined them, so that civil power in the district had ceased to exist. There was in camp, however, an acting Native Commissioner, Mr. V. Gielgud, who was to assume the post of Commissioner so soon as the rebels could be induced to surrender. This officer was most anxious that I should try Uwini by court–martial, for the following reasons:—Uwini was not only the leading chief of that part of the country, but was one of the four chiefs of the whole of Matabeleland who were supposed to be specially endowed by the M’limo, the god of the people; he was therefore in their eyes sacred, invulnerable, and infallible. He was well known to be the instigator of rebellion, and of several specific murders of whites in the district. His immediate punishment, then and there, would do more than anything else to restore our prestige and bring about the surrender of rebels, not only of his own tribe, but probably of the neighbouring tribes as well.
The chief, when asked by us to call upon his people to surrender, now that he was captured, absolutely declined to make any such proposition to them. He said that he had ordered them intorebellion, and had told them to fight to the last, and he was not now going to go back on his orders. He is a plucky and stubborn old villain. Time is very pressing, as we are getting constant information of rebels massing in three directions within reach of us, and to catch them we ought to be on the move at once; so I have determined to try him by court–martial, as any deserved punishment would certainly save much bloodshed on both sides, would save much valuable time that would otherwise be lost in operations against the stronghold, and should bring about the rapid pacification of the whole district and the restoration of our prestige in these parts. There is no civil power to refer the case to, and by military law Uwini is a prisoner of war, and liable to trial by a military court; we are over a hundred miles from the General’s headquarters, so that I could not refer the case with any certainty of getting an answer within reasonable time; and also, I know of several other similar cases having been tried lately by court–martial (P.S.—I had not then heard of any exception having been taken to this course), and I have therefore given the order for his immediate trial by Field General Court–Martial.
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Cold and HungryClothing a little rebel prisoner. (For sequel see page293.)
Cold and HungryClothing a little rebel prisoner. (For sequel see page293.)
Cold and Hungry
Clothing a little rebel prisoner. (For sequel see page293.)
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Warm And ComfortableThe little prisoner shows appreciation (with his right hand) of the late contents of the jampot in his left.
Warm And ComfortableThe little prisoner shows appreciation (with his right hand) of the late contents of the jampot in his left.
Warm And Comfortable
The little prisoner shows appreciation (with his right hand) of the late contents of the jampot in his left.
Uwini’s kraal, like most others in this part of the country, was a large collection of thatched circular huts built on inaccessible crags of a small mountain; and above the kraal, on points of rocks, so as to be well out of the reach of thieves and marauders, were perched numerous corn–bins. These latter we could only reach by hoisting men up with ropes, but we were lucky in obtaining from them very large supplies of grain. Much of this we have used for feeding the women and children whom we had captured from this kraal, and these, spreading the news to others in other parts of the stronghold, have induced a good many of them to come and give themselves up to us.
In order to help the rebels to make up their minds about surrendering, I have ordered piquets to be posted at all places from which they draw their water supply; these are generally small wells in the neighbourhood of the koppies occupied by them, and their usual time for getting water is during the dark hours of the night, so I hope that to–night we shall considerably astonish them when they come to get their supply for to–morrow.
My force here consists of a squadron of the 7th Hussars under Captain Agnew, a company of the York and Lancaster Mounted Infantry under Captain Kekewich, a strong troop of the Afrikander Corps under Captain van Niekerk,three Maxims, a 7–pounder under Captain Boggie, field hospital under Surgeon Lieutenant–Colonel Gormley, ambulance, and waggons carrying about a month’s stores, a total of 360 men and horses.
13th September.—During the night a lot of shots were fired by our piquet on the stronghold. I visited them at dawn and found they had killed two rebels who had come out to get water. I had a long talk with the prisoners and refugees who were in camp, and learned from them that the mass of the Matabele were now spread about in the Somabula Forest. This forest extends in a semicircle for a distance of over a hundred and fifty miles from Gwelo down to the Shangani, and varies in width from fifteen to thirty miles. It is not, as a rule, inhabited, owing to the dearth of water, but the enemy had now taken to it, hoping to find a safer refuge there. Our present camp is close to the edge of the forest, and is on the bank of the Uvunkwe River. This river runs along the side of the forest until it joins the Shangani some fifty miles from here. It seems to me that, by following down the Uvunkwe River for a short distance, and then striking through the forest to the Gwelo River, we should be able to come upon a large mass of the rebels who aresaid to be occupying a strong position in the hills.
The court–martial assembled on Uwini this morning, and tried him on charges of armed rebellion, for ordering his people to murder whites, and for instigating rebellion in this part of the country. The court martial gave him a long hearing, in which he practically confessed to what was charged against him, and they found him guilty, and sentenced him to be shot. I was sorry for him—he was a fine old savage; but I signed his warrant, directing that he should be shot at sundown.
During the day I went over the koppie that had formed Uwini’s main stronghold. It is a wonderfully strong mass of boulders about half a mile long and six hundred feet high. The approaches to it were strengthened by breastworks of stone and timber, and the mountain itself is honeycombed with caves. The cave in which Uwini was captured runs all through the mountain with innumerable ramifications. It is so narrow that in many places we had to crawl, now and then climbing up on our hands and knees, and sometimes having to creep down rough ladders made of tree–trunks. It was only then that we realised the difficulty that the men had had ineffecting his capture, and their pluck in following up an armed and desperate man in such a very nasty place.
On my arrival in camp yesterday, it had been reported to me that one man of the Mounted Infantry, while out on patrol in the forest, had become separated from his party and was missing. Additional patrols had been sent out to search for him and though they had followed up his spoor for some distance, they had been unable to find him. To–day, again, patrols had gone out accompanied by native trackers, but towards evening they returned, having again been unsuccessful in finding him; they reported that his spoor led back in the direction of the camp, and so they had hoped he would have returned before them, but he has not yet returned. Luckily, he was carrying on his saddle the day’s rations for the other three men of his section, so that if he can only keep his head, and not overwork his horse, there is every hope that he will turn up again. But that is the worst of these men when they get lost,—they seem to lose their heads, and tear off in all directions, until they exhaust themselves and their horses, when they become a prey to the enemy or go out of their mind. At night we send up rockets and fire guns in orderto show the wanderer whereabouts the camp lies.
At sunset all the natives in camp, both friendlies, refugees, and prisoners, were paraded to witness the execution of Uwini. He was taken out to an open place in the centre of his stronghold, where all his people who were still holding out could see what was being done, and he was there shot by a firing party from the troops.
I have great hopes that the moral effect of this will be particularly good among the rebels, as he was the head and centre of revolution in these parts, and had come to be looked upon by them as a god. No doubt, when they have realised that he is after all but a mortal, that he has succumbed to our power, and that they have no other head to take his place, they won’t delay long to surrender.
Indeed, I sent one old lady out to the rebel stronghold to–day to advise them to give themselves up, and to assure them that they could do so with perfect safety, but the old girl returned from her mission without bringing any of them with her. As she came back into camp, carrying her pass in a cleft stick, I was amused to hear one of the men say to her as she passed, “Hullo, old girl, are you back off furlough already?”
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No Respecter of Persons“Hulloh, old gal! Back again off furlo’?” is the greeting of Tommy Atkins to an aged princess returning from a mission to the rebels.
No Respecter of Persons“Hulloh, old gal! Back again off furlo’?” is the greeting of Tommy Atkins to an aged princess returning from a mission to the rebels.
No Respecter of Persons
“Hulloh, old gal! Back again off furlo’?” is the greeting of Tommy Atkins to an aged princess returning from a mission to the rebels.
I had proposed to start off some of my column to the northward this evening, but in the afternoon a small boy came into camp and reported that there was a party of Matabele camped about fifteen miles away to the southward, on the Uvunkwe River, so I got Ridley to take fifty men and make a night march to attack them. The patrol started after dark, at seven o’clock, and very soon after they had left camp, we heard rapid firing in their direction. On sending out to ascertain the cause, we found that Ridley’s party, in passing near to the piquet which was guarding the enemy’s water–supply, had been mistaken by themfor Matabele, and had been fired on, but luckily no one was hurt. I ran in the officer of the piquet, and after hearing his explanation of how the mistake arose, I abused him roundly, not for making the mistake, for we are all of us liable to do that at times, but because, when he opened fire, his men were not able to hit the hussars. This hurt him more than the most violent reprimand, because he prided himself on the good shooting of his men.
14th September.—Firing was kept up during the night by this piquet at frequent intervals. It was evident that the rebels were getting very thirsty; for two days and nights now they had not been allowed to get any water. During the few hours of darkness, just before dawn, numbers of them slipped away, and the remainder came and gave themselves up, many of them bringing in their arms. Thus, within a very few hours of his execution, the death of Uwini began to have its effect.
Through the break–up of Uwini’s stronghold, large stores of grain fell into our hands, and as we have over a thousand prisoners and refugees now in camp, we have plenty of assistance in gathering it into a central store.
Early in the morning Ridley and his patrol returned from their night march. They had foundthe enemy’s scherms deserted, the spoor showing that the Kafirs had cleared into the forest; they had had their long ride for nothing, and the only excitement they had encountered was that of being fired upon by our own piquet just after starting.
Again the search party, which had been sent out to look for the missing man, returned unsuccessful; no further signs of him had been found, and I fear that he must have fallen into the hands of the enemy.
ill304
The Shangan ColumnSketch map showing the country visited by this column. The dotted line shows the route of that patrol of the column which I accompanied, Kekewich’s and Ridley’s patrols working to our right rear, through the forest. Scale approximately 20 miles to 1 inch.
The Shangan ColumnSketch map showing the country visited by this column. The dotted line shows the route of that patrol of the column which I accompanied, Kekewich’s and Ridley’s patrols working to our right rear, through the forest. Scale approximately 20 miles to 1 inch.
The Shangan Column
Sketch map showing the country visited by this column. The dotted line shows the route of that patrol of the column which I accompanied, Kekewich’s and Ridley’s patrols working to our right rear, through the forest. Scale approximately 20 miles to 1 inch.