The Battle of Hlobane, 27 March 1879, A Lonely Grave in Zululand

LIEUTENANT POOLE (WEATHERLEY’S BORDER HORSE) AND CAPTAIN ROBERT BARTON (FRONTIER LIGHT HORSE).

There is a lonely grave out in Zululand some eight miles north of Hlobane Mountain. On a slight rise between two streams, where the rooi grass tosses in the wind, an old stone cattle pen with a lone syringa tree marks the spot where two British officers fell, sadly long forgotten, nearly 144 years ago.

Hard on the heels of the reverses suffered by the British at Isandlwana and Intombi Drift, came the last of the trilogy, the battle of Hlobane. In summary, a mixed bag of mounted infantrymen, whose major aim was to steal Zulu cattle being grazed on the flat-top summit of Hlobane mountain in northern KwaZulu Natal, were caught there by the entire Zulu army advancing from the south. It is alleged that when the British later questioned their native allies as to why they had failed to report such a move, their reply had been that they had given good intelligence in the past, but that it had been ignored so often that this time, they hadn’t bothered reporting it!

Colonel Sir Redvers Buller, working towards the western end of the plateau, had soon come to realise the awful certainty that he had been trapped on top of the mountain and that he’d better get off, quickly, before the Zulu horns enveloped the bottom and prevented his escape. He therefore gave orders for his rearguard, some distance behind him towards the eastern end of the mountain, to retire “to the right of the mountain”.

As it turned out, an unthinking death sentence!

The awful tragedy that subsequently unfolded hinged on this (in hindsight) careless order, for Buller had been facing west when he gave it, and thus had meant that the rearguard should retire to his (Buller’s) right, or towards the north of the mountain and away from the rapidly approaching Zulu army. However, the men of the rearguard were facing the opposite way when they received the order. Their right was therefore to the south, not the north, and they obediently made their way down the mountain southwards to run slap into the Zulu vanguard.

A rolling, swirling melee then ensued, with the men of Weatherley’s Border Horse and the Frontier Light Horse eventually attempting a travesty of a cavalry charge on their tired horses to the north over Intyentika Nek in order to break through the Zulu lines and escape. What they failed to appreciate was that, just beyond the Zulu positions, the mountain fell away precipitously and there was no way out in that direction unless one had the time to pick one’s way down the steep slopes – which, of course, they hadn’t.

The majority of the fleeing troops were slaughtered unmercifully, some being flung over the cliffs by the Zulus. About 20 men, the remnants of “C” Troop, FLH and Weatherley’s Border Horse, managed to thread their way out of the trap but most of those who did were pursued and killed as they fled northwards over the plain towards Potter’s Store. Captain Robert Barton, late of the Coldstream Guards and seconded to the FLH was one of those who managed to escape. On his way out he had come across Lieutenant Poole of the Border Horse, unseated and stumbling alone through the bush.

From “Blood on the Painted Mountain” by Lock & Quantrill….

“Somewhere in the flight from the mountain Barton came across Lt Poole of the Border Horse on to his already exhausted horse and together they rode on. With the Umcityu drawing nearer and nearer but cautious of Barton’s revolver. They were now about 8 miles from Potter’s Store which until a few days earlier had been a holding depot for Wood’s  Irregulars and, presumably, a place still manned and guarded to the extent that it could drive off a few mounted Zulu. But, they would not reach their goal: Barton’s horse with it’s double load finally collapsed. The riders sought escape in separate flight but Poole was quickly overhauled and killed. Although Barton still had his revolver, it would not fire and he waved it only as a threat. His pursuers closed around him and drew his bluff; he pointed the gun and pulled the trigger but nothing happened. Barton stood alone in the silence of the plain watching the man who had just killed Poole. He walked towards Barton and stopped. Placing his rifle on the ground, the warrior gestured that he should surrender. His name was Chicheeli and as his king, Ceteswayo had given orders for a prisoner of some importance to be taken, he had decided to capture Barton.

It was an easy decision as he had already killed 7 white soldiers that day. The two men were close to each other and Barton slowly put a hand to his head and raised his hat. At that moment another Zulu approaching fired at Barton, who fell mortally wounded. Chicheeli, believing the white man to be his prize and not to be killed by someone else, stepped forward and speared Barton to death.”

In due course Sir Evelyn Wood wrote a letter of condolence to Barton’s sister and next of kin in which he mentioned: “ Another burial party visited the mountain in September and reported that the remains of Barton and Weatherley had been found and put to rest. This report was false, no doubt made to pacify grieving relatives. Barton’s body was not buried until 1880   …..after it had been found by Trp Robert Browne DCM, who had been led to the spot by Cicheeli himself.”

 After all the shouting, screaming, singing, roaring, stamping and chanting, chaos and tumult of the past couple of hours, it was finally silent.

And so, nearly 140 years later, three local battlefield tour guides and military historians, Mike Nel, Tony Coleman and Pat Rundgren visited the spot to pay homage to the brave, but desperately unlucky, duo. Mike had walked in there a couple of weeks before with Eric Boswell, and taken GPS readings. It was a a shlep to get there, but Mike’s 4x4 handled it brilliantly and we arrived at the spot without major difficulty, despite the extremely rocky terrain. Remnants of stone kraals and hut foundations point to the fact that the area was once inhabited, but the people are long gone. Only their cattle roam freely, oblivious to the bloody history of that tiny piece of real estate.

I wonder how many people today have ever visited the spot or even know where it is? For a great description of the battle, I would recommend “Blood on the Painted Mountain” by Ron Lock. Greenhill Books, London. 1995.