Friday, May 27, 2022

AWD Col Durnford's Book Review

 



Printed in Friend of India and Statesman 23rd January 1883

London Correspondence  - Colonel Durnford and Lord Chelmsford

(from our own correspondent)  December, 22, 1883.

I do not remember who it was that said that the thing most wanting in this world was, not benevolence, but justice; but whoever it was, a truer utterance never proceeded from the mouth of man.  The indifference to justice is the source of nine-tenths of the ills that afflict the human race; and this it is which more than any other cause arrays nation against nation, class against class, and man against man.  Every one if he will only think for a moment, can be satisfied of the truth of this.  None of us are moved to wrath because others do not treat us with benevolence; but the endurance of injustice, or what we deem to be such, creates a mental wound which Time – omnipotent as it is in the case of most other Injuries – is impotent to heal.  It is only natural that it should be so, for no reasonable person claims the benevolence of his kind as something to which he has a right; but an act of injustice actually deprives us of that which is our own.  It is an act or robbery of a peculiarly heinous kind.  What says that clever villain Tago, who, when the need was, could talk like an Archbishop?---

 

“Who steals my purse, steals trash;

“Tis mine, “tis his, and has been slave to thousands;

But he who flinches from me my good name,

Robs me of that which not enriches him,

And leaves me poor indeed?.”

 

The species of robbery reaches its culminating point of business when the man whose good name has been filched from him is in the grave incapable of speaking in his own defence.

These thoughts have been suggested to me by a book which has just appeared.  It is a Memoir of Colonel A.W, Durnford, written by his brother, Lieutenant-Colonel E. Durnford.  When Colonel Durnford died the death of a hero, while covering the flight of the British troops and camp-followers at Isandhlwana, the British nation lost a soldier of an almost ideal type.

 In the errors which brought about the slaughter on that day he had absolutely no part, but his great qualities as a commander would have plucked victory out of almost certain defeat but for the persistent blundering of his Commander-in-Chief.  None the less, officially, he has been held responsible both by the late Government and by this, because otherwise, the censure must have rested upon Lord Chelmsford.

The baseness of this proceeding consisted in this, that had Colonel Durnford survived the battle, he might have demanded a court-martial.  Being dead, he was incapable of defending himself.  Ever since his death, his brother, Colonel E. Durnford has been endeavouring with indefatigable perseverance, to extract from the authorities an official exculpation of his brother, but, it is unnecessary to say, without success; and so, and as a last resource, he has published a Memoir of his brother, thereby appealing to the nation at large to render him that justice for which he has been fruitlessly knocking at the doors of the War Office and the Horse Guards.  I cannot say that I regret the necessity which has driven him into print.  His loss is everybody else’s gain, for we have thereby obtained a Memoir excellently well put together of a man whose memory the British army should not willingly let die.


 

The last Colonel Durnford and “Chinese” Gordon were united in a close friendship, and there was also a striking similarity in their characters.  The whole life of “Chinese” Gordon exhibits an almost fanatic desire that justice should prevail upon the earth, and this desiree has made him, in total oblivion of self, the devoted champion of wak and oppressed races, whether in China or the Soudan, or at the Cape of Good Hope

 

A great soldier, it can be said of “Chinese” Gordon as was so truly said of Garibaldi, that

 “his sword sprang never from its sheath,

 Except to cleave a chain.”

 

Precisely such a man as this was Colonel Durnford as his is depicted for us in this Memoir by his brother, and had he ived, I am convinced that his career would have been every whit as illustrious as that of his brother Engineer and a friend.

In 1849, just after he entered the army, he happened to be between Berwick and Holy Island, when a small craft had struck on the coast during a storm.  Seeing the hesitation of the fishermen to go to the rescue, he jumped into a boat, calling out: “Will none of you come with me? If not, I shall go alone.” A volunteer crew at once joined him, and succeeded in rescuing those in peril.  This incident is typical of his whole career.  He was great, not only as an actor himself , but by reason of his power to inspire all who had to do with him with his own courage and devotedness.

It was at the beginning of 1872 that Captain Durnford proceeded to the Cape on duty, and shortly after, he was ordered to Natal, in which colony his name will long be remembered.  Captain Durnford’s first experience of Kaffir “wars” was in the expedition against the ill-fated Lanalibaleli and his tribe, and the “eating up” by the colonists of the Putini tribe for no offence at all, except that certain of their women had intermarried with the men of the tribe of Lanalibaleli.  Up to that time, Captain Durnford had believed, like multitudes of his countrymen, in what is called “British justice” and “British humanity, as qualities which animated the actions of Englishmen in every country and among all peoples.  The experience of these “wars” undeceived him.

This is how he writes about them to his mother:

“One-twentieth of the whole black population has been reduced to slavery.... There have been sad sights – women and children butchered by our black allies, and old men too. “Twas too bad. But when one employs savage against savage, what can one be astonished at?  The burnt, villages, dead women, it was all horrible!  And the destitution and misery of the women and children left is fearful.  The women are all made slaves. What will England say?

Thank God, no woman or child was killed by my command; no old man either; but others have committed these atrocities, for which there is no defence to my mind.”  The horrible cruely and injustice with which the Putini tribe in particular had been treated by the Natal Government and the Colonists determined Colonel Durnford’s future line of conduct while in South Africa.  This tribe, literally for no fault at all, had been “eaten up” by the Colonists, and with the sanction of the Natal Government – that is to say, their flocks and herds had been forcibly carried away, their huts thrown down, their field destroyed, and the men, women, and children of the tribe sold into slavery under the name of “apprenticeship”.

 

 This humane transaction, gentle readers, was carried out by Englishmen in the year 1872, Colonel Durnford resolved that he would not rest until this gigantic wrong had been to some extent undone, and in the face of tremendous obstacles and unmeasured abuse he ultimately triumphed.  I need hardly say that all true and patriotic Englishmen in South Africa should “shame” upon him, as a “pessimist” of atrocious character.

He had a dog, of which he was extremely fond, therefore sundry of the good citizens of Pietermaritzburg poisoned the unoffending creature, as they said, Colonel Durnford would then be “without a friend int he place.”  When Sir Garnet Wolseley came to Natal on his abortive mission, anterior to the appointment of Sir Bartle Frere, neither he nor his “brilliant staff” would consent to have any relations with a man who had rendered himself so odious to the Colonists and the Natal Government.  Sir Garnet plainly told the Colonel that he (Sir Garnet) believed his efforts on behalf of the Putini as “an act of treason” to the Natal Government, whose servant he was.  But disliked and distrusted as he was by his own countrymen, Colonel Durnford reaped the only reward he cared for in the devoted attachment of the Kaffir races, who recognised in the champion of the ill-used Putini, the friend of the whole people.  One of his Basutos, speaking of him afterwards, described his first impression of the Colonel thus:

He was a new experience to us.  When we, Basutos, first saw him, we had been summoned by Mr Shepstone, who showed him to us, saying: “See! This is the chief you are to follow in this expedition.  Beware now! Mind you do well, for he is a high chief, a great soldier, and will not allow any fault to go unpunished.  Do not imagine that he will treat you as mildly as I do, for if you make him angry, he will be terrible.  So beware!”  Twice over was this said to us in Maritzburg, and again at the camp, and we felt that it was a serious matter.  But we soon found out that he was only terrible against wrong-doing, and, for the rest, he treated us as men; as fellow creatures.  No other white chief ever showed us the same consideration...;. That night on the mountain, when we started again, it was cold, but the Major could not bear the weight of his heavy waterproof coat on his injured shoulder.  So he told Elijah Kambula (a Basuto), who had on a light woollen overcoat to change coats with him.  Elijah, who had never received such an order from a white chief, before, said to me in “Basuto, “What did he say?” That I am to give him my coat and war his?”  “Come Elijah, make haste!” exclaimed the Major”, “are you afraid to lend me your coat?” Then Elijah gave it to him, but he had to be told again, before he could venture to put on the other.  And we all said amongst ourselves:  “What sort of Chief is this we have found?  He does not despise us.”

But I must hasten on to the last and most heroic incident in Colonel Durnford’s carrer.  I am thereby compelled to pass over in silence the many proofs which he had given, prior to the outbreak of the Zulu campaign, of superior military capacity and a perfect fearlessness in the presence of danger.  He had, when the Zulu was began, lived down the calumnies which had been rained upon him for his efforts to obtain juctice for the Putinis; his power over the natives and their attachment to him were facts too patent to be ignored; and therefore it was that when the war against the Zulus was determined upon, he was commissioned to raise and command a contingent of Basuto troops, composed of both cavalry and infantry, and numbering about three thousand men.  Now, in order to estimate the degrees of responsibility which attaches to Colonel Durnford for the disaster at Isandhlwana, it is necessary to state exactly what he was not responsible for, and about this there cannot be two opinions. It was Lord Chelmsford who selected the site of the British encampment at Isandhlwana, which Mr Forbes – the Daily News special correspondent, and a man who could speak from immense military experience in all parts of the world – delcared to be one that “invited surprise and attack” and as “defenceless as an English village.”

Colonel Durnford was not so much as present with the force when the camp was formed.  It was Lord Chelmsford who divided his forces, going away with on-half of his troops after an imaginary Zulu army, leaving the camp without having laagered his waggons or taken defensive precautions of any kind. Colonel Durnford arrived on the ground only an hour before the camp was surrounded by twenty thousand Zulus.  Orders from the General he had none of any kind watever.  He had not so much as received instructions to take command of the camp.  And he arrived upon that ground to find the position beset with enemies, and in itself totally indefensible.  Colonel Durnford’s responsibilities therefore commence from half past ten on the morning of the battle of Isandhlwana.  For everything which happened anterior to that hour Lord Chelmsford is solely and exclusively responsible.  It was on the morning of the 20th January that Lord Chelmsford and the British troops encamped at Isandhlwana:

“Nothing,” writes the author of the Memoir, “in the way of entrenchment, laager, or provision for defence was allowed, in spite of Colonel Glyn’s suggestion to form laager, pooh-poohed at once by the General with the words: “It would take a week to make.”  There certainly ere vedettes thrown out to the front and flanks, but those on the left flank seem to have been withdrawn from where they could command a distant view; and an infantry outpost line, composed of two companies of infantry and two companies of natives, also covered the front.  The surrounding country was reconnoitred only to the front and right front, whilst, unknown and unsuspected like a thunder-cloud gathering on the left front, the main Zulu army was approaching its rendezvous under the Ingqutu mountain.”

I have italicised this passage because it describes the first capital blunder committed by Lord Chelmsford – the neglect, namely to reconnoitre the ground on his left front.  This failure is all the more inexplicable, because a Zulu was given information on the 20th that a large Zulu army was to be assembled on the 21st January behind the Ingqutu range, and consequently, within striking distance of the position at Isandhlwana.  This fact, when reported to the General, was not considered by him or his staff to be of any special importance.  Meanwhile the reconnaissance which had been pushed out in front of the British position had come upon a Zulu force, and Major Dartnell, who was in command, sent a message, “that he had marked the Zulus down in a kloof, and asked for two companies of infantry to be sent out as a support, and that he would attack the Zulus in the morning.”

Lord Chelmsford’s response to this request was to march out next morning, and join Major Dartnell at the head of more than half his troops.  As the author of the Memoir very justly observes –

“It is impossible to discover any reason for the General’s taking out more than half his force, when asked for two companies as a support, especially when he knew his left front was not reconnoitred, and when he had himself seen Zulu horsemen there, and had expressed his intention of reconnoitring in that direction.  But there, within from three to five miles lay the 20,000 Zulus, silent and undiscovered.  They made no sound, they lit no fires; they waited.”

The Zulus seen by Major Dartnell were a force thrown out to divert attention from the quarter where danger really threatened – namely, on the left front of the camp at Isandhlwana, and consequently when Lord Chelmsford marched to attack, they “fell back from hill to hill as we advanced, giving up without a shot most commanding positions,” until they had lured the guileless British General to a distance of twelve miles from his armed encampment.


 

 It never occurred either to Lord Chelmsford or any of his staff that this surrender of “most commanding positions” without the firing of a single shot might be attributed to some other motive than simple poltroonery; so secure in fact did Lord Chelmsford believe his camp to be, that it was when he was miles distant from it, that he asked in a casual manner, “What orders had been left for Colonel Pulleine?” – the officer who had been left in command.

All this time Colonel Durnford, in command of the second column, was halted at Rorke’s Drift; but on the morning of the 22nd, he received an order from Lieutenant-Colonel Crealock, the Adjutant-General, couched in the following terms:- “You are to march to this camp at once with all the force you have with you of No. 2 column.”  Not a word, it is to be noted, in this order, as to taking “command” of the camp, and it is evident that Colonel Durnford did not understand that this duty had been imposed upon him.  For when he reached Isandhlwana, Colonel Pulleine said: “I am sorry you have come, as you are senior to me, and will of course, take command.”  To which the reply was: “I’m not going to interfere with you.  I’m not going to remain in camp.”  Colonel Durnford then asked Colonel Pulleine for all the information he had, and hearing that Zulus had been seen in considerable numbers on the left front of Isandhlwana, and that the ground in that direction had not been reconnoitred by the General, he determined to undertake at once, with his mounted men, the duty which Lord Chelmsford had neglected.

He asked Colonel Pulleine to support him with two companies of infantry, but on being told that the men could ill be spared, he decided to take his own men only.  At about four miles from the camp he came upon an immense Zulu “impi” – the twenty thousand men in fact, who had assembled behind the Ingqutu range, and were now sweeping down upon it with a certainty of success. But Colonel Durnford, with his Basuto horse, in two bodies – the one commanded by himself, the other by Captain Shepstone – held them a long while in check and inflicted very heavy losses.  The Zulus, said one who escaped from the final massacres, “lay just like pepper-corns upon the plain.”   R.D.O.

London, December 20.

My last letter on this subject broke off at the point when Colonel Durnford, having discovered a force of 20,000 Zulus advancing upon Isandhlwana from behind the Ingqutu range, had retreated fighting, and inflicting heavy losses upon them.  This retiring movement was continued until the Basuto Horse had reached a water=course about 800 yards in front of the right of the camp, and here, reinforced by some thirty or forty mounted men, a determined stand was made.  Tabez, one of Colonel Durnford’s Basutos who escaped from the battle, thus describes this period of the action:-

“At last we came to a bad stony place and a little stream quite close to the camp.  Here we made a long stand, firing incessantly.  The Colonel rode up and down our line continually, encouraging us all, talking and even laughing with us – “Fire, my boys.” “Well done, my boys,” he cried.  Some of us did not like his exposing himself so much, and wanted him to keep behind, but he laughed at us, and said, “All right; nonsense.”  He was very calm and cheerful all the time.  There were not very many of us, but because of the way in which we were handled by our leader, we were enough to stop the Zulus on that side for a long time.  We could have carried him off with us safely enough at this time, only we knew him too well to try.  But we now say: “If we had known what would happen, we would have seized him and bound him, not matter if he had fought us for doing so, as he certainly would; no matter if he had killed some of us, we would have saved his life, for he was our master.” 


 

Now we say that we will always remember him by his commanding voice, and the way in which he gave us all some of his own spirit as he went along our line that day; and those amongst us who had not served under him before as I had, say, “Why did he not know him sooner?”  We see also that, but for him, we should all have died that day.  But at last our cartridges were nearly done.  The Colonel had sent a messenger back to camp for more, but none came.  Then he sent to Mr. Henderson and another, but now our cartridges were quite done, and suddenly the Colonel, who was watching intently, told us all to come back with him into the cap.  We went, but on the outskirts of the camp we met Mr. Henderson, who took us to our own waggons for more ammunition.  The Colonel rode straight on to the General’s tent at the upper end of the camp.  While we were getting our ammunition the Zulu army swept down right round the upper camp shutting us out. But our leader was within, and we saw no more of him.”

The same devoted servant of the Colonel went on to say, that –

“In all the years through which he followed the Colonel, and watched his sad face always, he has never seen him look so bright and happy – never seen his face shine, and his eyes brighten, as during that last fight in the danger nearest the camp, when he knew for certain that he should die.”

Now, up to the moment when he retired from that donga, Colonel Durnford had had no communication with the camp, beyond the brief conversation with Colonel Pulleine at 10.30 that morning.  It is important to remember this, because, subsequently, it was charged against him, both by Lord Chelmsford and Sir Bartle Frere, that he had acted in opposition to the orders left with Colonel Pulleine , and that it was in consequence of this disobedience of orders that the disaster had occurred.

Sir Bartle Frere said that the disaster of Isandhlwana “was clearly due to breach of the General’s Orders, and to disregard of well-known maxims of military science.”  Lord Chelmsford held that, “every one must admit that the camp had not been lost through having an insufficient garrison, or because the position was an unfit one for the number of troops to defend, but because the strict orders for its defence which had been given had not been carried out.”  These “strict orders” have never put themselves in evidence, and the pleas is that they were lost upon the field of battle; but having regard to Lord Chelmsford’s inquiry as to “what orders had been left with Colonel Pulleine,” it is at least dubious whether orders of any king, “strict” or otherwise, were left with Colonel Pulleine.  At any rate, Coloner Durnford neither modified nor interfered with them in any way.  Colonel Pulleine was left in entire freedom to execute whatever orders he had received in the event of an attack upon the camp.  All that Colonel Durnford’s reconnaissance had effected, was to give the camp timely warning of the approach of an enemy who, otherwise, would have simply “rushed” the camp while the men were in their tents.  For the fatal sense of security which had taken possession of Lord Chelmsford reigned with equally undisputed away over Colonel Pulleine and the force under his command.  While Durnford and his troops of Basuto Horse were expending themselves in a desperate endeavour to retard the advance of the Zulu army, the British force in camp had no thought or foreboding of the impending peril.  Nor was it until noon – that is to say, when Durnford was actually making his last stand at the donga – “that they became aware of the presence of a Zulu army in their neighbourhood.”

“About noon,” writes Captain Essex, of the 24th, “a sergeant came into my tent, and told me that firing was to be heard behind the hill where the company of the 1st battalion, 24th, had been sent.  I had my glasses over my shoulder, and thought I might as well take my revolver, but did not trouble to put on my sword, as I thought nothing of the matter and expected to be back in half-an-hour to complete my letters.”

This “firing behind the hill,” of which Captain Essex though so lightly, was the sound of approaching annihilation to the British force.  Colonel Durnford had made his stand at the donga, because he saw that, unless the left “horn” of the Zulu impi was held back, it would throw itself across the only line of retreat possible for the English troops.  But, in the meanwhile, the right “horn” was working round to the rear of the Isandhlwana hill, and just as Colonel Durnford galloped into camp, a tremendous rush of ten thousand men sweeping round the right flank of the hill, and on the right and rear of the 24th, broke up the British line, and rendered further resistance all but impossible.

Forthwith a wild flight took place along the road leading to Rorke’s Drift.  Infantry, artillery, and camp=followers were all crowded together, and the Zulus mingled in the crowd, cutting down the fugitives as they ran.  A narrow pass called “a Nek” led from this camp, down to the “Fugitives’ Drift,” along which the remnants of the force and the crowd of camp-followers were attempting to seek safety, and Colonel Durnford at once perceived that to make good this pass was the only hope of safety for the fugitives.  He galloped up to a body of the Natal Mounted Police, saying: “Now, my men, let us see what you can do.”  Fourteen Natal Carabineers, and twenty of the Natal Mounted Police under Lieutenant Scott, dismounted from their horses, and with Durnford at their head, held “the Nek”.  They were joined by about thirty of the 24; and this little band of heroes held the position for four mortal hours until the last man had fallen where he stood.

“They made,” says a Zulu, “a desperate resistance.  I repeatedly heard the word “fire” given by some one, but we proved too many for them, and killed them all where they stood.  When all was over I had a look at these men, and saw an officer with his arm in a sling (Colonel Durnford), and with a big moustache, surrounded by carbineers, soldiers, and other men that I did not know.”

The shot that killed Colonel Durnford caused also his watch to stop.  It marked the hour – 3.40.  An officer, who was administering one of the South African dependencies, writes as follows:-

“The general impression gained from the natives is that the resistance of “the lion,” as they termed Colonel Durnford, was so nearly successful that they but gained the victory by their over-whelming numbers, and looked upon it virtually as a defeat.......and whatsoever may be written of Colonel Durnford in history, when the matter is viewed dispassionately, there can be little doubt that the unwritten Zulu history will record the “lion” as the hero of the campaign.  The news of the heroic resistance of Durnford and his party passed through the native tribes for several hundred miles shortly after his death.

And now let us turn to Lord Chelmsford to ascertain what he was doing all this time.  From first to last the battle of Isandhlwana may be said to have lasted close upon six hours, and it is well-nigh incredible that the General, distant only twelve miles, should have received no intimation of what was passing in the camp which he had left that morning.  According to Lord Chelmsford, however, this was actually what occurred.

“In point of fact,” he said in the House of Lords, “he only received one message from the camp in the course of that day .... which had been sent to him at 8 o’clock in the morning, and which was received by him at 9.30, which merely gave the information that a body of the enemy had been noticed in a north-westerly direction.  From half past nine o’clock until he reached the camp onhis return, not a single message, if any were despatched, had reached him.”


 

Lord Chelmsford does not appear to be aware that in the admission which he makes in the foregoing passage that he pronounces his own condemnation.  He was aware that “the north westerly direction” in which a body of the enemy had been seen, was the direction in which he had intended, but neglected to reconnoitre.  He must have known that he had expressly forbidden to “laager” the waggons as a fortification for the camp.  And he was aware that no other kind of defence was practicable, for, to use his own words, “it was found impossible to dig even a shelter trench near the hill of Isandhlwana, owing to the rock cropping up so close to the surface.”  Also he knew on the testimony of a Zulu, that a large Zulu army was to assemble in that direction.  All these consideration ought to have suggested, to an officer with a little of Lord Chelmsford’s experience the propriety of keeping “touch” with the force at Isandhlwana.  There was nothing in the operationunder his personal superintendence to prevent him doing so.  It is extremely difficult to know what was the purpose of these same “operations”; but whatever it was, it is quite certain that but for his totall disregard of the intimation which he received at 9.30, Lord Chelmsford might have been at hand to preserve from destruction the British force at Isandhlwana.  Lord Chelmsford, however, is grievously mistaken if he supposes that this was the only intimation he received of the battle that was being fought for six long hours in and around his camp.  Intimations he had many, but his understanding, and that of his staff too, were shut against them, and remained so to the end.

These intimations were as follows:-

“About 1.45, a native with the General’s force reported that heavy firing had been going on round the camp; and the General, in consequence of this report, sent some officers to a high spot to see if they could see whether anything was occurring in the vicinity of the camp.  These reported that “all looked quiet”, and from this satisfactory statement, Lord Chelmsford concluded that he might dismiss the native’s report from his mind.  A quarter of an hour later a message was received from Commandant Browne, commanding the first battalion, Natal Native Contingent, which had been ordered to return to Isandhlwana at 9.30am , to the effect that large bodies of Zulus were between him and the British camp, and that he could not advance without support.”

This alarming message was understood by the general as meaning – not that his camp was endangers, but – that Commandant Brown was halting to allow the remainder of the column to close up.  Earlier than this, however, information absolutely unmistakable of what was going on at Isandhlwana had reached the General, and has been simply ignored by him.

The incidents relating to this are so profoundly inexplicable, that, as the author of the Memoir says, they can best be told in the words of an officer who was present – Captain Church, 2-24th Regiment.

“When about half-past-nine that morning, Lord Chelmsford discovered the enemy he had come in search of had disappeared, four guns R.A., two companies of the 24th (my own and Captain Harvey’s) and about fifty Natal Native Sappers, the whole under Colonel Harness, were ordered to march to a rendezvous in advance by a different route to that taken by the remainder of the column.  This was necessary as the ground could not go over the ground taken by the latter.  To carry out this order, we had to retrace, for over two miles, the road we marched out by in the morning and then bear to our left.  This we did (having first halted for a short time to let men and horses have a rest) and came about 12 0’clock to some rising ground, when we again halted, as we were not certain of the whereabouts of the rendezvous, and Major Black, A.Q,M.G., who had gone on to find it, had not returned. 


 

Almost immediately after this halt, we heard the fire of cannon, and looking towards the camp, which I do not think was more than eight miles off, saw shells bursting against the hills to the left of it.  We did not know what to make of this, and were puzzled how to act, when about one o’clock, a body of about 1,000 natives suddenly appeared in the plain below and between us and the camp.

...I galloped towards them, and when I was getting near, a European rode out to meet me, and said: “The troop behind me are Commandant Browne’s Contingent, for God’s sake; the camp is surrounded, and will be taken unless helped at once.”  I returned as fast as I could and delivered this message to Colonel Harness, whom I found in conversation with Major Gossett, A.D.C., and Major Black, both of whom had joined him during my absence.  Colonel Harness promptly said: “We will march back; but Major Gosset ridiculed the idea, and advised him to carry out his orders.  Colonel Harness then asked Major Black and myself our opinions.  We both agreed with him without hesitation.  He then gave the order to return, and we got off without a moment’s delay.  It was about 1.30 when we started.  We had got over about two miles of our way to the camp, when we were overtaken by Major Gosset (who had ridden away from us in the direction of the General when we started) and ordered by him to march back to the rendezvous. The order was obeyed.”

The foregoing narrative affords a striking illustration of the injustice which persons in high official positions do no shrink from perpetrating on those who are incapable of defending themselves.

If there be one duty more than another which both the Secretary of State for War and the Commander-in-Chief ought to regard as binding upon themselves, it is to see that an officer who has fallen in the service of his country, and who, by the completeness of his self-sacrifice, can speak no word for himself, shall not be made the scapegoat for the offences of others.  No one who reads the narrative I have just quoted can have any doubt of its accuracy.  If untrue, its fictitious character would have been demonstrated at once, by those who were said to have been present on the occasion.

 But neither Colonel Harness, Major Black, Major Gosset, nor Captain Harvey have ever come forward to question or deny the truth of Captain Church’s statements.  And it is clear that, if true, the responsibility for the slaughter of Isandhlwana rests upon either Lord Chelmsford or Major Gosset.

The author of the Memoir quotes upon this point the following from the London Statesman of February 1881, and there are few, I think, who will not agree with the remarks of that journal:-

“Now the point which imperatively needs clearing up is this: Did Major Gosset conceal from Lord Chelmsford the urgent reason which had caused Colonel Harness to set aside the General’s order to return?  Because, if he did, we have no hesitation in saying that he ought to be dismissed from her Majesty’s service.  OR did Lord Chelmsford, knowing the appalling news which had reached Colonel Harness, nevertheless send to him peremptory orders to rejoin head-quarters.  Because, if so, we have no hesitation in saying that he ought to be dismissed the service.”

But what, on the contrary, is the action of the his official personages in whose hands the decision of such matters rest?  They promote Lord Chelmsford, and decorate him.  They allow both him and Sir Bartle Frere to affirm, without rebuke, that this brave and thoroughly capable soldier lost the battle of Isandhlwana because he disobeyed orders, and acted in defiance of well-known military maxims.  They allow Lord Chelmsford to state publicly in the House of Lords that, from the beginning to the close of that disastrous day, he did not receive a single intimation that the camp was attacked, and, much less, that it was in danger. 


 

And why?  Because Lord Chelmsford was alive and was a man of social influence, and the heroic Durnford had died in the performance of his duty.  There is no difference here between Liberal and Tory Governments.  Mr Gladstone has been as calmly indifferent to the reputation of the fallen soldier as was Lord Beaconsfield; Mr Childers has been as pathetic as was Colonel Stanley.  Happily for Great Britain, as for all other nations, her greatness and her strength depend but in a small degree upon the few who reap the richest harvests of rewards and honour – who are most conspicuous to the public eye.  Failure in this world is, I suspect, most frequently the reward of the truest heroisms.  Lord Chelmsford is a peer, but Colonel Durnford and Lieutenant Scott, with those gallant Natal Carbineers who dismounted and died at their bidding, are the real heroes of the Zulu campaign.  For the rest, I hope that what I have written respecting his Memoir will induce many to read it for themselves.  It is an excellent piece of literary workmanship, and makes the world acquainted with a character whom all British soldiers will be glad to know and to honour.  R.D.O.

 

 

The Friend of India and Statesman newspaper has been digitised and uploaded to findmypast.

The Friend of India was one of the oldest newspapers of India. The journal was started in the early nineteenth century as a weekly journal, and later incorporated The Indian Observer. Published by the Serampore Press every Thursday morning, The Friend of India became a popular journal with its wide coverage of Indian affairs and international news. In 1875 The Friend of India incorporated another newspaper, The Statesman, founded in the same year, was renamed The Friend of India, and Statesman and came to be published every Friday from ‘the Statesman and Friend of India Office’ in Calcutta. Later, it became a daily newspaper. The journal published articles, reports, notes, notices, statistics, advertisements, obituaries and correspondences.

Source: South Asia Archive

Saturday, September 18, 2021

45. Book Review in Relation to Col Anthony William Durnford and 1873 Bushman's Pass

 

December 6, 1879  The Examiner  Page 1579  A Book Review



 

“My Chief and I”   (Chapman & Hall)

A personal narrative, if the individuals, views, feelings, and doings of the author are  not unduly pressed forward, has always more interest than a mere objective record of adventures.  My Wylde is careful in his preface to disclaim all egotism, and throughout this volume, which he has filled with a lively account of the time he spent in Natal, he tells us, indeed, much about himself, but only because he was the assistant of the late Colonel Durnford, R.E,. who fell at Isandwlana with his face to the enemy.  The book, is, in fact, and episode of Colonel Durnford’s life, and would be valuable for this quality only, even were it not also a touching tribute the eminent qualities of the brave and good man who perished because “some one had blundered.”

The author, formerly in Colonel Durnford’s corps, got into some youthful scapes at Gibraltar, and had to leave the army.  His friends sent him to Natal as a forlorn hope; he arrived there in 1874, friendless, homeless, and almost penniless, a desperate man, not unlikely to fall into the lowest depths of colonial blackguardism. 

Almost the first man he met at Durban was his old chief, Colonel Durnford, who made him tell his whole story, and then gave him charge of a party of “rebels”, who were busy road-making at Pietermaritzburg.  These “rebels” belonged to the unfortunate Putini tribe, whom our Colonial authorities and Colonial troops had driven from their location, harried, plundered, and imprisoned for alleged complicity with Langalibalele.

If, after the evidence which Bishop Colensco brought to England and that supplied by Captain Lucas’s two books on South Africa, more were required to prove how utterly fictitious was Langalibalele’s “rebellion,” and how grossly unjust and barbarous was our treatment of the Putini, such proof is supplied by the book before us, much of which is filled with an account of Colonel Durnford’s exertions on behalf of those oppressed and ill-used people.

It was considered necessary to stop a number of the passes leading across the mountains from the north-west into Natal, in order to put an end to raids on both sides, and an expedition was sent for this purpose under Colonel Durnford’s command, Mr Wylde, after having given evidence of intelligence and industry elsewhere, acting as the chiefs assistant.  The expedition consisted of a hundred Putini, who had been trained to road-making during the  period of their imprisonment, and had become excellent pioneers, a few friendly Basutos, and a half a dozen British soldiers.

The work to be done in a mountain district in the winter months was arduous in the extreme, and its hardships are graphically described by the author.  We have repeated opportunities of admiring the extreme care which Colonel Durnford displayed, both for the rapid and perfect execution of the work, notwithstanding all difficulties, and for the welfare and health of the men of whom he had charge. He rapidly gained the confidence and love of the poor “rebels” whom the Colonial authorities, one and all, had agreed to treat as wild beasts.

The unreasoning terror which prevailed in the more remote parts of the Colony shows that most of the colonials are, like all bullies, co2wards as well as tyrants, and once more proves that none are so incapable of managing their own affairs as the white population of Natal.  The horrors committed by the volunteers (who, however, bolted like hares on more than one occasion before the Zulus) are here duly chronicled without any attempt at exaggeration; and if the author does sometimes give way to his indignation when he finds the mutilated remains of women and children who had been massacred by “British” forces, such expressions of feeling are not at all  too strong for the circumstances.

After this expedition Colonel Durnford obtained for the whole guiltless Putini tribe the permission to return to their district, but the order had been scarcely given when it was countermanded behind his back, and the treacherous Colonial authorities declared that they had never intended to release the whole Putini tribe, but only the ninety-eight men who had worked with Colonel Durnford.  Long and cruel delays followed, and it was several months before the gallant officer at last procured the complete amnesty which had been promised him for his protégés, an amnesty which was subsequently confirmed by Lo0rd Carnarvon’s order.  Even now full restitution has not yet been made for the 8000 head of cattle these poor people were robbed of by Government; and it seems doubtful whether, under the present Administration, entire justice will ever be done.

The difficulties of marching in Natal, and those attending commissariat and transport, are graphically described by Mr. Wylde.  Even so small a force as the one to which he was attached was frequently delayed by a wagon sinking in a “mudhole”, by awkward fords, and by impassable ravines.  The perseverance of its chief overcame all obstacles; but the unremitting attention to details and the incessant activity required to keep even this tiny detachment in proper marching and fighting condition, go far to show with what enormous difficulties our commanders had to contend during the late war.

It is touching to read, in the preface, Colonel Durnford’s reply to Mr Wylde, when the latter required his late chief’s permission to publish his manuscript. “My dear boy, publish your book when I am dead and gone, if you like, but not before.”  Sacrificed to the ineptitude of a General who has been rewarded with the thanks of his Queen, poor Durnford now lies where he fell in defence of an untenable position, buried in the “neck” of Isandwlana.  The miserable negligence and folly which lost his and so many other brave lives have been forgotten in the honours showered on the victors of Ulindi, and we have tacitly agreed to say no more about the heroes who cannot be recalled to life by punishing those to whom their death is owing.

“My Chief and I” is illustrated by two photographs – an excellent one of Colonel Durnford serving as frontispiece – and by several lithographs.  Sir Charles Whetham might object to some of the latter, representing as they do gentlemen and ladies of various Kaffit tribes in their native costume.  But we trust that, being concealed in this volume, they will escape even the piercing eye of the guardians of the morals of the rising generation. 

In conclusion, we may add that even for those not specially concerned with Colonial politice, the book is extremely interesting; written simply, but in good, plain English, without any attempt as “word-painting,” the very first pages gain the reader’s sympathy, and, when the last is reached, he parts from Mr Wylde with regret.

 

 

 

 

 

Sunday, January 3, 2021

44. A Relationship with Prince Arthur Duke of Connaught and Col Arthur Durnford


A Relationship with Prince Arthur Duke of Connaught

For the Durnford children to be involved with the children of the Duke of Connaught, the son of Queen Victoria, there had to be a link.  


No doubt that link originated in the Corps of the Royal Engineers, where, in 1868, Prince Arthur was commissioned. Later they both were at Aldershot.

Prince, Arthur  first duke of Connaught and Strathearn (1850–1942), governor-general of Canada, army officer, and son of Queen Victoria, was born at Buckingham Palace, London, the third son and seventh of the nine children of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert, on 1 May 1850, the birthday of his godfather, the duke of Wellington, after whom he was named Arthur William Patrick Albert. His mother's favourite son, from his earliest years, Prince Arthur was destined for a career in the army. In 1858 his father mapped out a scheme for his education and appointed Captain Howard Elphinstone as his governor.
The young prince lived in an independent establishment with his governor at Ranger's House, Greenwich, and, on the death of the prince consort in 1861, Elphinstone took an increasingly paternal role in his charge's life. He was influential in leading the prince to acquire an interest in and appreciation of the arts and sciences, with the result that Arthur was more cultivated than either of his elder brothers, the prince of Wales and the duke of Edinburgh.
Prince Arthur's formal military training began on 11 February 1867 when he entered the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich. In 1868 he was commissioned in the Royal Engineers and was subsequently posted to the various arms of the service to give him the broad qualification which might later be useful if, as was expected, he were to succeed the duke of Cambridge as commander-in-chief.
His first service abroad was from 1869 to 1870, in Canada with the rifle brigade. On 24 May 1874, he was created duke of Connaught and of Strathearn, and earl of Sussex, and was subsequently known by his first title. In 1876 he was promoted lieutenant-colonel and placed in command of the 1st battalion of the rifle brigade.
From 1880 to 1883, as a major-general, he commanded the infantry brigade at Aldershot. His promotion had been accelerated, but he was to show that it had not outstripped his competence. In 1882 he commanded the brigade of guards during the Egyptian campaign, which culminated in Wolseley's brilliant victory at Tell al-Kebir against Arabi Pasha's much larger, well-entrenched, and powerfully gunned army. Connaught's brigade was in the second line, but it, and he personally, came under fire during the engagement. He had succeeded in bringing his men to the right place at the right time after an adventurous night march in which much might have gone wrong. Wolseley declared that he had 'taken more care of his men and is more active in the discharge of his duties than any of the generals now with me'. Thus the duke acquitted himself well in battle and became the last British prince to command a significant formation in action.
During the pacification of Egypt, Connaught was governor of Cairo, but he had little taste for that work and was glad in 1883 to embark on service in India, first as a divisional commander and then, from 1886 until 1890, as commander-in-chief of the Bombay army. His area of responsibility extended from Bombay to Aden, but his wish to modernize the Indian armies and to reduce the social gap between the British and the Indian officers and troops was not encouraged by the duke of Cambridge nor, indeed, by almost anyone other than the queen.
While in India, he travelled extensively and strenuously throughout the subcontinent carrying out military inspections, and on diplomatic and imperial missions. His interests ranged from improving the efficiency of his forces to concern for the status of women in what he considered a primitive form of society.
In these roles, Connaught excelled and, both before and after he was in India, he discharged them in most quarters of the globe, including the United States, China, Japan, many of the British dominions and colonies, and most of the European countries. He was an excellent public speaker, a welcoming host, and an attentive guest, who found himself more or less at ease with the bey of TunisPresident Taft of the United States, the emperor of Japan, the emperor of Austria, and even Kaiser Wilhelm II of Germany, his nephew.
On 13 March 1879 Connaught had married Princess Louise Margaret Alexandra Victoria Agnes of Prussia (1860–1917), the third daughter of Prince Frederick Charles of Prussiaand the great-niece of William I of Germany.
They had three children; the eldest, Margaret (1882–1920), married the crown prince of Sweden, and had four sons and a daughter; the only son, Arthur (1883–1938), was governor-general of South Africa; and the younger daughter abdicated her royal style in 1919 to become Lady Patricia Ramsay (1886–1974). The Connaughts' marriage was happy and enduring, notwithstanding the duke's affection for Léonie Leslie, the sister of Lady Randolph Churchill, which was shared by his wife.
In 1902 Connaught was promoted field marshal and in 1904 was selected to fill the new post of inspector-general of the forces. The declared purpose of this innovation (which arose from the so-called Esher army reforms), was to provide the newly created army council with eyes and ears; they would sit in their offices and committee rooms and the inspector-general would go out and report what was happening on the ground. Connaught travelled widely among the troops in the United Kingdom and those in the overseas garrisons and he reported as he found, mostly to the effect that the reforms were eyewash. This did not appeal to the army council, nor to the secretary of state for war, and it was decided that the duke, who was too prestigious to be sacked, should be exported.
He was, much against his own wish and only on the insistence of his brother, Edward VII, sent to Malta as commander-in-chief and high commissioner in the Mediterranean. Here he found himself, as he had predicted (and quoting his own description), no more than a fifth wheel on the coach; an impediment to, rather than an enhancement of, its efficiency. Much to the annoyance of the king and R. B. Haldane, the secretary of state for war, he resigned in 1909 and so ended his active military service.
Ironically, however, this change brought Connaught towards the summit of his useful career. Edward VII decided that the duke should be governor-general of Canada and to this proposal there was an enthusiastic response from both sides of the Atlantic. Connaught was sworn in as governor-general in Quebec on 13 October 1911. During the next five years, he travelled to every part of the dominion. There was some reserve in French Canada, but in most places he was well-received and he became much better known than any of his predecessors. He established an informal system for seeing the prime minister, Robert Borden, and the ministers of his Conservative government, which had just won a general election.
At first, he thought highly of them all, but he soon came to believe that his original impression of healthy enthusiasm and vigour in the minister for militia and defence, Sam Hughes, was more correctly interpreted as self-conceit inflated by an unbalanced mind. This raised very serious issues after the outbreak of war in 1914: with his own army experience, the duke inevitably had strong opinions on military matters, and, despite his constitutional position, he came into conflict with Hughes.
The latter insisted on the Canadian troops being equipped with the Canadian-made Ross rifle, and continued to do so after conclusive evidence had been assembled showing that the rifle often jammed after a few rounds when exposed to the conditions of the battlefield. He talked of raising vast Canadian armies of a million men, which Connaught believed would bleed the dominion white, and he turned a blind eye to the recruitment of Americans while the United States was still neutral, contrary to assurances given to the American president by the governor-general. Hughes was also in close accord with Colonel Wesley Allison, long suspected and eventually unmasked as one of the most disagreeable of a number of fraudulent arms profiteers. Thinking that Hughes was a danger to Canada, Connaught pressed Borden to drop him. Borden was probably of the same opinion, but it was not until after the duke had left Canada that he acted on it.
Connaught's attitude has been portrayed as an unconstitutional vendetta, but had he left Sam Hughes to himself, the governor-general would have been failing in his duty to advise, warn, and encourage. When he left Canada in October 1916, there were widespread expressions of regret, not the least from Borden himself.
After Canada, Connaught did not hold any public appointment, but he continued to fulfil public engagements, the most important of which took him in 1921 to India, where he opened the new chamber of princes, the central legislative assembly, and the council of state.
Connaught lived on until 1942, dividing his time between Clarence House in London and Bagshot Park, Surrey, which had been built for him between 1876 and 1879. From 1921 to 1934 he also maintained a villa, Les Bruyères, at St Jean Cap Ferrat, in France, where his garden was regularly opened to members of the navy visiting Villefranche.
The duke had received every order which it had been in the power of his mother to bestow, and had received further decorations from Edward VII and George V, and from many foreign powers. He presided over many organizations, including the Royal Society of Arts, the Boy Scouts' Association, and the united lodge of freemasons, and was colonel of three, and colonel-in-chief of nineteen, army regiments. His later years were saddened by the loss of his wife in 1917 and by the death of his elder daughter in 1920 and of his only son in 1938.
He died at the age of ninety-one on 16 January 1942 at Bagshot Park and was buried at Frogmore.      Oxford DNB   Noble Frankland


Despite the privileges of his rank, the Duke had a reputation as a straightforward, hard-working soldier, known for his concern for the welfare of his men, with no time for pettiness or insincerity. In 1879 Prince Arthur married Princess Louise Margaret of Prussia. He was succeeded very briefly by his grandson, after which his titles became extinct.





Photograph taken by Royal Engineers photographer during the Abyssinian Campaign in 1868-9.
Soldiers in service dress standing in lines in front of tents; officer on horse in front; rocky cliffs rise behind; viewed over grassy ground.
Provenance  From an album compiled and owned by Prince Arthur Duke of Connaught (1850-1942)



All the Durnford Family were invited to the wedding of HRH Princess Patricia to The Hon. Alexander Ramsay at Westminster Abbey in 1919

Victoria, Ethel and Gwen, and their brother Col Guy Durnford and his wife were invited to view the gifts.









Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught and Strathearn (Arthur William Patrick Albert; 1 May 1850 – 16 January 1942), was the seventh child and third son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert
He served as the Governor General of Canada, the tenth since Canadian Confederation and the only British prince to do so. In 1910 he was appointed Grand Prior of the Order of St John and held this position until 1939.



Arthur was educated by private tutors before entering the Royal Military Academy, Woolwich at the age of 16. Upon graduation, he was commissioned as a lieutenant in the British Army, where he served for some 40 years, seeing service in various parts of the British Empire. During this time he was also created a royal duke, becoming the Duke of Connaught and Strathearn, as well as the Earl of Sussex. In 1911, he was appointed as Governor General of Canada, replacing the Earl Grey as viceroy. He occupied this post until he was succeeded by the Duke of Devonshire in 1916. He acted as the King's, and thus the Canadian Commander-in-Chief's, representative through the first years of the First World War.

After the end of his viceregal tenure, Arthur returned to the United Kingdom and there, as well as in India, performed various royal duties, while also again taking up military duties. Though he retired from public life in 1928, he continued to make his presence known in the army well into the Second World War, before his death in 1942. He was Queen Victoria's last surviving son.

It was at an early age that Arthur developed an interest in the army, and in 1866 he followed through on his military ambitions by enrolling at the Royal Military College at Woolwich, from where he graduated two years later and was commissioned as a lieutenant in the Corps of Royal Engineers on 18 June 1868. The Prince transferred to the Royal Regiment of Artillery on 2 November 1868 and, on 2 August 1869, to the Rifle Brigade, his father's own regiment, after which he conducted a long and distinguished career as an army officer, including service in South Africa, Canada in 1869, Ireland, Egypt in 1882, and in India from 1886 to 1890.




Princess Louise Margaret of Prussia (Louise Margaret Alexandra Victoria Agnes; later Duchess of Connaught and Strathearn; 25 July 1860 – 14 March 1917) was a German princess, and later a member of the British Royal Family, the wife of Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught and Strathearn. She also served as the Viceregal Consort of Canada, when her husband served as the Governor General of Canada from 1911 to 1916. King Carl XVI Gustaf of Sweden and Queens Margrethe II of Denmark and Anne-Marie of Greece are among her great-grandchildren.


The Duke and Duchess of Connaught with their children in 1893

 

 
Princess Patricia of Connaught (Victoria Patricia Helena Elizabeth; later Lady Patricia Ramsay;[  17 March 1886 – 12 January 1974) was a granddaughter of Queen Victoria. Upon her marriage to Alexander Ramsay, she relinquished her title of a British princess and the style of Royal Highness


Prince Arthur of Connaught KG KT GCMG GCVO GCStJ CB PC (Arthur Frederick Patrick Albert; 13 January 1883 – 12 September 1938) was a British military officer and a grandson of Queen Victoria. He served as Governor-General of the Union of South Africa from 20 November 1920 to 21 January 1924.
On 15 October 1913, Prince Arthur married his cousin Princess Alexandra, 2nd Duchess of Fife (17 May 1891 – 26 February 1959) at the Chapel RoyalSt. James's PalaceLondon.
 

Princess Margaret of Connaught (Margaret Victoria Charlotte Augusta Norah; 15 January 1882 – 1 May 1920) was Crown Princess of Sweden and Duchess of Scania as the first wife of the future King Gustaf VI Adolf. She was the elder daughter of Prince Arthur, Duke of Connaught, third son of Queen Victoria of the United Kingdom, and his wife Princess Louise Margaret of Prussia.
Known in Sweden as Margareta, she died 30 years before her husband's accession to the throne of Sweden

 






OSBORNE HOUSE, Isle of Wight. Queen Victoria and family in the grounds of Osborne House, 1898. Photograph from the Ryde album.
Left to right:
Leopold of Battenberg, Princess Aribert of Anhalt, Duchess of York with Prince Edward and Princess Mary (on knee), Princess Margaret of Connaught Prince Alexander of Battenberg (on ground),
Duke of York with Prince Albert, Queen Victoria, Prince Arthur of Connaught, Duchess of Connaught, Princess Patricia of Connaught (on ground), Princess Henry of Battenberg, Princess Ena of Battenberg, Princess Helena Victoria of Schleswig-Holstein, Prince Maurice of Battenberg
Copyright © Historic England Media ID 1126355 Date: 23rd July 2008 Source: Historic EnglandSource: English Heritage Images Credit: Historic England Photo Library


Royal visit during colonial times in 1881 by Prince George (later King George V) and Prince Albert during their three-year tour of the British Empire visiting the Americas, the Falkland Islands, South Africa, Australia, Fiji, the Far East, Singapore, Ceylon, Aden, Egypt, the Holy Land and Greece between 1879 and 1882. Photo taken at Government House. Brisbane



Victoria, and her daughters and the children of Prince Arthur and Princess Louise.  They played together as youngsters.