Then, just as he reached the other two, his horse was shot. The current carried it swiftly down the stream, as a few moments later it bore the colours which it had wrenched from Melvill’s grasp.
The three were now still more at the Zulus’ mercy. Bullets splashed the water round them, and several of the warriors were scrambling down the bank towards them. By making great efforts, however, Coghill being hampered by an injured knee, they reached the Natal side. Here, before they had gone far, the Zulus caught them up, and the two lieutenants turned to make a fight for it.
I need not dwell on the last sad scene. Higginson—and we may think no shame of him for doing so—had gone on alone. He had no revolver or weapon of any kind with which to defend himself. Coghill and Melvill had their revolvers.
Standing in front of an enormous rock, the two officers faced their foes, to sell their lives as dearly as possible. And when their bodies were discovered days later the stiffened corpses of a dozen Zulus lying almost in a circle round them bore eloquent witness to the gallant stand for life that they had made. They were buried side by side on the spot where they had fallen, while a simple granite cross was raised to mark their grave and tell to future generations the story of how Lieutenants Melvill and Coghill died to save the colours of their regiment.
The flag itself, it may be added, was found by a search party some distance down the river. It was brought back to England at the close of the war and presented to her Majesty the Queen, who tenderly placed upon it a wreath of immortelles in remembrance of the gallant pair whose lives had been given for it.
At about the same time an announcement appeared in the London Gazette to the effect that had Melvill and Coghill lived they would have received the V.C. And so their names, too, are added to the glorious roll of honour.
On the same day that Merrill and Coghill won fame, Samuel Wassall, a private of the 80th Regiment who had been serving with the Mounted Infantry, earned the third Cross that is associated with Isandhlana. Having escaped from the Zulus, he too turned his horse towards the Buffalo River. He was pursued, but managed to outdistance his enemies, and gained the river unharmed at a point farther east than the ford.
Just as he was about to enter the water Wassall saw another soldier—Private Westwood—battling vainly with the current and evidently on the point of being drowned. To jump from his horse was the work of a moment. Then, throwing himself into the stream, he swam to the sinking man’s rescue, brought him out, got himself and the exhausted Westwood on to the horse, and plunged once more into the river.
Some Zulus had appeared on the rocks above him as he was in the act of mounting, and their bullets came perilously close, but neither he nor his burden was hit. The horse needed no urging to get across the stream, and ere long Wassall was out of reach of his discomfited pursuers.