Company Of Spears

Somerset, sitting low in a camp chair, sipping repeatedly at his strong black coffee, began to look uncertain. His fighting, such as it was, had been on interior lines, east of the Fish River, with a number of strongpoints around which to rally. Here in open country, a thorn-fenced kraal the only feature, and his force not yet even united, he saw the possibilities of defeat only too clearly. His distaste for Fairbrother was now all but gone. ‘I am grateful for your timely intelligence, Captain Fairbrother. Admirable. And Dundas?’

‘As I said, Colonel, I believe he may be able yet to bring over Voosani and his men.’

Somerset nodded slowly. ‘That is what Gaika said – that Voosani will fight if we support them.’ He looked at Hervey. ‘Colonel, what is your opinion?’

Hervey was surprised to be asked; Somerset had scarcely spoken half a dozen civil words to him since Cape Town. He sensed he was not being asked the best course of fighting the Zulu, however; rather whether they should fight at all. ‘Well, Colonel, General Bourke’s orders are clear enough, and we know what is the lieutenant-governor’s intention behind them. We have not been able to deliver an ultimatum to Shaka, but if we don’t make a stand against these Zulu here then an ultimatum would have no effect. I see no occasion to withdraw.’

Somerset looked disconcerted. ‘You do not consider it my overwhelming duty to preserve my force? We should be hard pressed to find another.’

Hervey saw no profit in debating the principle. ‘I don’t think we need consider it in those terms, Colonel. May I propose that I take the mounted detachments forward to make contact with the Zulu? It might still be possible to parley with them, especially since they have not yet seen troops under discipline. But if not, at least I should be able to ascertain something of their numbers and condition, and perhaps intention. Meanwhile, if Voosani’s men can be rallied, and Gaika can muster all the Xhosa …’ He tried to make his suggestion as unemphatic as possible: he had to leave the commander of the field force with an opening to take up the proposal as his own.

Somerset turned to the commanding officer of the 55th (Westmoreland) Foot, who had come in from the pickets on seeing the galloper. ‘Colonel Mill, what do you consider is the capability of your battalion?’

Lieutenant-Colonel John Mill was a veteran of much fighting – the West Indies, the Peninsula, Waterloo – and his face bore the battle honours. Whatever he thought of Lieutenant-Colonel Henry Somerset, a man considerably younger than he and with a complexion as fresh as the schoolboy’s, he kept an impassive countenance. ‘In square my battalion could not be broken, and in line it could not be resisted, Colonel.’

That seemed to do the trick. With such resolution at hand, how could he, Somerset, do other than offer battle here, between the Kei and the Bashee? ‘Very well, gentlemen. Colonel Hervey, you may take the mounted detachments as you propose and make contact with the Zulu. As soon as the artillery comes up, and Gaika’s men are mustered, I shall march towards the Bashee – unless you report that the Zulu are in too great strength. I shall keep the burghers with me. They’re not so steady, yet they will afford me some protection if – I mean when – we advance.’

No one spoke. Each man saluted and took his leave, knowing without need of elaboration what their business was to be about.

Somerset, alone, in his camp chair, lapsed into a gloomy, distant stare. His orderly brought him a bottle, which he took with resignation rather than relish. This was not how he had imagined it would be.

They broke camp at midnight. Four or five hours in the saddle, by Hervey’s reckoning, and they would be in the more undulating country west of the Bashee. This would give a horseman the advantage, for with videttes on half a dozen high points they would soon be able to estimate the size of the Zulu force, and there would be less chance of being encircled. His one concern was colliding with the Tambooka if they were falling back towards Gaika’s kraal; but they met no one. Hervey imagined that scarcely an owl could have been witness to their night march – a cold affair too, wanting capes, whereas by day it was shirtsleeves, and too hot at that.