Lord Chelmsford that evening published a congratulatory order to the Troops, ending thus:—
“The two Columns being about to separate, the Lieutenant-General begs to tender his best thanks to Brigadier-General E. Wood, V.C., C.B., for the assistance rendered him during the recent operations.”[200]
I received a letter dated the 9th July, Port Durnford, from Sir Garnet Wolseley: “Just a line to congratulate you on all you have done for the State. You and Buller have been the bright spots in this miserable war, and all through I have felt proud that I numbered you among my friends, and companions-in-arms.”
On the 15th of July, Sir Garnet Wolseley and his Staff arrived at sunset, and intimated his intention of seeing the Column next morning. In order to mark the difference between War and Peace service, I had caused a supply of pipeclay to be brought from Natal, and throughout the night of the 14th our men were employed in washing out the coffee colour with which we had stained our white belts in January, and pipeclaying them, so that next day when we marched past, although the clothing was ragged, the men’s belts and rifles were as clean as if they had been parading in Hyde Park.
I entertained the General and his Staff, and at dinner Sir Garnet Wolseley asked me: “Who were the Natives I saw going westwards over the hill at the rear of the camp?” I replied: “Wood’s Irregulars, who were engaged to serve only with me personally; I paid them up and sent them home.” He said, “You were in a great hurry.” I reminded him that in December 1873, when one of my Sierra Leone men had lost his eye in action, he disapproved of the Regimental Board which I had convened, and which had awarded him £5. I did not mention I had personally paid the £5, but added: “I was so afraid of your economical spirit that I have compensated Wood’s Irregulars, and let them go.”
Next morning Sir Garnet Wolseley spoke to me on his proposed arrangements for attacking Sekukuni. I knew what was coming, as I had seen a letter he had written to Lord Chelmsford, saying, “I mean to send Wood up, as we can trust him, to settle Sekukuni.” Sir Garnet said: “Now, I know that you have had hard work, but I want you to do some more, and propose to give you an adequate Force to bring Sekukuni to terms.” I replied: “I haven’t had an unbroken night’s rest for eight months, and am not of the same value as I was last January, and therefore do not feel justified in accepting any command for the present. If you will not let me go to England, I must go to sea for a fortnight or so, for without a rest it is impossible for me to do for you, or the Country, good service.” “Well, then, how about Buller, is he fit?” “No, he has said nothing about it; but he is even more ‘run down’ than I am, his legs being covered with suppurating Natal sores—and so the Chief acquiesced in our departure, and issued the following order:—
“In notifying the Army in South Africa that Brigadier-General Wood, V.C., C.B., and Lieutenant-Colonel Buller, C.B., are about to leave Zululand for England, Sir Garnet Wolseley desires to place on record his high appreciation of the services they have rendered during the war, which their military ability and untiring energy have so largely contributed in bringing to an end. The success which has attended the operations of the Flying Column is largely due to General Wood’s genius for war, to the admirable system he has established in his command, and to the zeal and energy with which his ably conceived plans have been carried out by Colonel Buller.”
Sir Garnet Wolseley informed me he would urge the Commander-in-Chief to promote me to the rank of Major-General, and did so, but the application was refused. Later he wrote from Pretoria: “I am sore at heart in not being able to address you as ‘Major-General.’ When will our Military Authorities learn wisdom?”
On the 18th of July I left the Flying Column, and their shout, “God speed you,” made my eyes moisten. We had served together, one battalion eight months, and the other for eighteen months. Much of the time had been fraught with anxiety; the good-bye of these men, of whom it was commonly said in South Africa, “I worked their souls out,” and whom I had necessarily treated with the sternest discipline, was such that I have never forgotten.
As I was leaving camp the Natives attached to the Companies of the 90th Light Infantry asked to speak to me, and their leader said: “Are you not going for a long journey?” “Yes.” “How far?—For a moon?” “Oh, longer than a moon.” “Well, you promised you would compensate us for the women killed by Umbiline after the battle of Kambula.” “Yes, that is true; but, as I said at the time, I should not pay until I was convinced that you actually possessed the number of wives for which you have claimed, and the Landrost has not yet certified to the numbers, although I have written to him many times.” Their spokesman said: “May we understand that it is you, Lakuni,[201] who will decide the point, or shall you have to refer it to Government?” “I can and will decide the point myself, for I have a large balance of cattle money forfeited by the men of Wood’s Irregulars who left the Column on the night of the 28th March, after their return from the Inhlobane, and when I am satisfied of your loss I will make it good.” They threw their sticks in the air, and shouted “Good-bye, we are content.”