Life of Frederick Courtenay Selous, D.S.O., Capt. 25th Royal Fusiliers

Selous continued making roads until May, 1892, when there being no further work for him to do, he terminated his engagement with the British South Africa Company, and went down to Beira, and so to Cape Town and England, which he reached on December 17th, 1892. Before leaving, however, he did a little hunting, and killed his last lion on October 3rd, and his last elephant, a splendid old bull, with tusks weighing 108 lbs. the pair, on October 7th.

It was in December, 1891, that Selous killed his finest lion, a splendid animal with a good mane, and one whose pegged-out skin measured over eleven feet. This lion had done much damage at Hartley Hills, breaking into stables and kraals, and destroyed many horses and goats. This was an unusually daring beast, and efforts to destroy him had been of no avail. Whilst dining with Dr. Edgelow one night, Selous heard his driver, John, fire from his camp close by, and called out to ask the cause. The driver replied that a lion had just killed one of the loose oxen. Nothing could be done that night, but at dawn Selous took the spoor in the wet ground, but lost it on the dry veldt. Next evening he made a shelter against a tree.

This was a terrible misfortune, but next morning Selous tracked the lion up a watercourse and soon found him.

Selous has always been regarded by the British public as the first lion-hunter of all time. They would like to have seen him travelling round with a large circus and a band giving demonstrations of shooting lions from horseback à la Buffalo Bill, but nothing was further from his own ideas than such a showman's display. Being as truthful as he was modest, he always entirely disclaimed any great prowess as a lion-hunter and said what was true—that many men had killed a far greater number of lions than himself. It was only on particular occasions like the last adventure described that he went out of his way to shoot lions that had become troublesome and dangerous, but at all times he never declined a fight when he was lucky enough to meet lions, whether he was himself afoot or accompanied by dogs. If he had wished to make a great bag of lions, doubtless he could have done so; but he never wished to pose as a lion-hunter like Jules Gerard and others, and so his total bag was modest. Actually, he himself shot thirty-one lions and assisted in the destruction of eleven others. Even his good friend, H. A. Bryden, usually so accurate in his statements, says: "He was easily the greatest lion-hunter of his time," and the general public, taking the cue from many writers, say a thing is so-and-so and the statement becomes standardized. But, after all, it is only a very few men who know the real facts of any case, and they often have a habit of holding their tongues. Doubtless, if Selous had enjoyed the opportunities of the Brothers Hill, he would have been just as active and successful in destroying lions as they—if he had not been killed in the process. Selous, as a matter of fact, had no more genius for hunting than that enjoyed by many others. He was an admirable hunter, but just as unable to spoor a lion on dry veldt as other white men—that gift alone belonging to certain black races. The title, therefore, of being "the greatest lion-hunter"—even if we admit the desirability of using superlatives—seems to belong to the man or men who by perfectly fair means and taking risks—the same as Selous himself did—have shot the greatest number of lions. Wherefore, I give a few particulars.

As Selous himself has said, probably the greatest lion-hunter within his experience of South Africa was Petrus Jacobs, who killed in his life—chiefly with the assistance of dogs—well over one hundred lions, and was himself badly mauled when he was over seventy-three years of age.

Probably the greatest all-round hunter of African game now living is William Judd, now a professional hunter in British East Africa. In South and East Africa he has killed forty-eight lions and been in at the death of forty-three others. In giving me these particulars, he says: "I have never had any really narrow squeaks from lions with the exception of the time I was out with Selous on the Gwasin Guishu plateau" (see "Field," May 28th, 1910). It may be remarked that this immunity is due to the fact that he is a magnificent shot. He considers the Buffalo a far more dangerous opponent. A. B. Percival, Game Warden, is said to have shot fifty lions during his residence in British East Africa.

In Somaliland, hunting almost exclusively for lions, Colonel Curtis in one season killed twenty-seven, and in the same time Colonel Paget and Lord Wolverton nearly as many. Captain Mellis also in one season accounted for twenty-one lions, and several other British sportsmen have killed twenty in one trip in that part of Africa.

What a man does and what he could actually do in the way of lion-killing is perhaps beside the question. A great lion-hunter like Sir Alfred Pease, both an admirable shot and a superb horseman, has only killed fourteen lions and joined in eleven "partnerships," but this in no way represents the number of lions he could have killed had he wished to do so. Being of an unselfish disposition it was ever his pleasure, since he had killed all the specimens he wanted, to give his friends who were anxious to shoot lions every opportunity of doing so. In fact, on many occasions, at his farm on the Kapiti Plains, he himself "rounded up" the lions for other men to kill, and simply looked on—standing ready in case of trouble. "Lions were so plentiful at my place on the Athi," he writes, "that one party killed in one day (1911-12) fourteen lions. I have often spared a fine lion to give a guest a chance, and have never seen him again. The finest lion I ever saw was an enormous black-maned fellow. I prevented my son-in-law from firing at him, as I wished President Roosevelt to get him during his stay with me. Subsequently, I think a German got his skin; but in reality, I believe H. D. Hill killed him after a German party and the Brothers Hill had fought a great battle with him near Lukania."

Sir Alfred then goes on to give particulars of the astounding performances of the Brothers Harold D. Hill and Clifford Hill, who if they wished it—which they probably do not—are justly entitled to the right of being called the first of modern lion-hunters. "Harold Hill managed my farm in British East Africa for several years. He told me a year ago that he had, since he had been there, 1906-15, on my farms of Theki and Katanga, and on his own and his brother's farms—Katelembo and Wami—killed himself one hundred and thirty-six lions. I think this figure will include a very great number of what I should call 'partnerships,' for his brother Clifford must have killed as many or more than Harold, for he has done more actual hunting.[45] Clifford Hill acted as professional hunter to many 'safaris,' but you could absolutely rely on any statement he made, although it is not likely that he believed, himself, in counting heads of game killed. I should not be surprised if these two brothers have not been in at the death of over three hundred lions during their residence in East Africa."

Commenting on the different methods of hunting lions in Somaliland and British East Africa, Sir Alfred says:—

Paul Rainey's methods of hunting lions with a large pack of hounds can hardly come into the true category of lion-hunting where risks are taken. The dogs, it is true, were often killed or wounded; but as a friend who had taken part in these hunts remarked, "It was just like rat-hunting, and about as dangerous." It is true that one man, George Swartz (formerly a German waiter at the Norfolk Hotel, Nairobi), was killed in one of these hunts, but the accident was singular. Swartz was a very bold fellow and moved close in in thick bush when the dogs had a lion at bay one day in the Kedong in 1912. The lion "broke bay," and either intentionally charged Swartz or ran over to him by chance as he worked the cinema-camera. The beast gave the man one bite in the stomach and then left him, but the unfortunate fellow died shortly afterwards of his wounds. Paul Rainey claims to have killed over two hundred lions with his dogs.

It has always been the custom amongst hunters that he who draws first blood from any animal—even if it is only a scratch—is entitled to the beast when subsequently killed. It is a good law on the whole, but there are many instances where it is scarcely justified—that is to say, when the first shooter has done little beyond slightly injuring the animal, if a dangerous one, and the second hunter has stood "all the racket," and killed the beast at the risk of his life. Here is such an example given to me by Sir Alfred Pease:—

However, if he did kill a considerable but not a remarkable number of lions, Selous will always remain the greatest authority on the subject, for in his numerous writings he has given us accounts of sport and natural history in connection with this animal that are quite unequalled by any other writer. In all the descriptions and the accounts of its habits he accumulated a vast mass of material, mostly new and original—which is without a blemish, without a single incorrect statement. These writings by Selous, especially his admirable notes in "African Nature Notes and Reminiscences," and the small monograph on "The Lion," by Sir Alfred Pease, constitute a complete record of the natural history and sport connected with this interesting animal.

To clever and broad-minded people in other lands it may be a wonder that so excellent a field naturalist as Selous was not granted a State allowance, to pursue his work as a pioneer and naturalist, so as to relieve him of the constant strain on his slender resources. We know that in France, Germany, Austria, Italy, America and Japan such a thing would have been done long ago; but foreigners have no knowledge of our various Governments' neglect of science, or of the miserable pittances they allowed to the various scientific bodies for such a purpose in this country. Heaven alone knows what inventions, amounting in value to vast sums, have been literally driven out of England by this abominable stinginess, and sold to other countries, which in time became our deadliest enemies in trade and war. And so in turn our scientific societies, each and all of which considered their own branch the most important, have pursued a policy of neglect and jealousy towards all young workers in whatever branch they showed exceptional originality.

The officials of the British Museum are poorly paid, and they and the Zoological Society, having little or no money to expend on researches of importance in foreign lands, have to go and beg from the general public whenever any expedition is being sent abroad.

In America, where matters are worked on broad-minded principles, field zoology is now recognized as being as important as purely scientific zoology, and ample funds are given to all genuine collectors outside the body corporate, and the advancement of general knowledge is all that is desired. The result is that more excellent work in this branch of science is being done to-day in New York and Washington than in all other countries. It is true they have ample funds for such purposes and these are generously distributed; but there are no jealous cliques there, and the spirit in which the work is done is wholly admirable.

Perhaps the only scientific society that has received great monetary help is the Royal Geographical Society, and when Arctic or Antarctic expeditions are launched the public has always responded magnificently. I have often wondered why, for beyond the individual effort of bravery on the part of the gallant members of these expeditions, the scientific and material results of these expeditions are very small compared with those of one well-conducted expedition to Central Asia or Africa, which in time has often given considerable scientific results, as well as knowledge of new countries that have become the homes of white men. From the time of Denham and Clapperton to Selous what has ever been done for our African explorers? Absolutely nothing. These grand men have taken quite as great risks as Arctic or Antarctic travellers, have explored thousands of square miles of new country and done it all out of their own pockets, often ruining themselves in purse and health. An Antarctic expedition costs the British nation anything from £30,000 to £50,000, and its leaders receive knighthoods, and other official distinctions, but we never heard Livingstone called anything but a wandering missionary, or Selous aught but a big game hunter; nor has any Government taken the smallest notice of them. Yet these two men, by their courage, tact in dealing with natives, personal influence, skill in mapping and eventual advice to those in authority, did more, both for Science and the Empire, than all the expeditions to the wildernesses of perpetual snow and ice.

It must not be supposed that Selous, had he wished, could not have obtained some of these material rewards which are valued by most men. He was not without influential friends, both at home and in Africa, but his natural modesty forbade him to make use of them. One man above all others should have made it his duty to have helped him, but let us see how he acted.

Cecil Rhodes was a big man—big in almost every way except in the matter of gratitude—and when he found that Selous was—to use an Americanism—such an "easy mark," he exploited him to the limit of his capacity. Rhodes knew that without Selous' immense local knowledge and tact with the native Mashuna chiefs his best-laid schemes might go astray, so he played on his patriotism, and promised him many things, not one of which he ever performed.

Selous was, in fact, the whole Intelligence Department, and when he cut the road north with such rapidity it really gave Lobengula no time to act until it was too late. So that the first expedition, which might easily have been a failure, turned out an unqualified success.

"Let me introduce you to Mr. Selous," said Rhodes to a member of the Government at a big luncheon party in 1896, "the man above all others to whom we owe Rhodesia to the British Crown." These were fine words, and a fine acknowledgment of Selous' services. But what happened afterwards, and were Rhodes' promises to him kept? When the Empire builder found his tool was of no further use, he absolutely ignored him, and could never find time even to see him. To his cynical mind gratitude simply did not exist. Selous was just one of the pawns in the game, and he could now go to the devil for all he cared.

If others gained gold and titles out of the efforts of Selous and the Chartered Company, these mushroom successes strut their uneasy hour and are soon forgotten; but Selous left behind him an imperishable name for all that was best in the new lands, which is well voiced in the words of Mr. A. R. Morkel, in a letter to the Selous Memorial Committee (1917):—

We need express no surprise that the man who did the most hard work was left unrewarded, for such is life. It is on a par with the experience of a gallant officer in a Highland regiment who, after nearly three years of intense warfare in the front line (1914-17), and still without a decoration of any kind, although twice wounded, came to Boulogne, where he met an old brother officer, who had been there in charge of stores for one and a half years, wearing the D.S.O. and M.C. ribbons. "I am not a cynical man," he remarked to me, "but I must say that for once in my life I felt so."

CHAPTER IX

1893-1896

Selous had been hunting something all his life, yet he never seems to have lost sight of the possibility that a little fellow with a bow and arrow might one day take a shot at him. Perhaps in earlier days he feared him a little, but when, one January day in 1893, he went to Barrymore House, his mother's home at Wargrave, the small archer was there waiting in ambush and found a very willing victim. The immediate cause of the attack was the fact that Miss Gladys Maddy, a daughter of the Rev. Canon Maddy, was staying with Selous' mother. This was one of Selous' lucky days, for in a short time, since the attraction seems to have been mutual, he decided to try and win the lady as his wife. In this he was quite successful, and by the spring they were engaged. Meanwhile the hunter, being now well known to the public, had arranged to make a lecturing tour in the United States, under the auspices of Major Pond, and had hoped that this would be finished by late September, when he would be able to do a hunt in the Rockies afterwards. All arrangements had been completed and he had already taken his passage to America when the news of the Matabele rising arrived in England. He at once cancelled all his engagements and took the first steamer to South Africa.

After the Pioneer expedition to Mashunaland in 1890 had proved a success the country seemed in so quiet a state that the police force there was in 1891 disbanded. This was doubtless a great mistake. The Matabele were not the kind of people to take the position of a conquered race with equanimity. Their whole history showed them to be a virile fighting people who up till now had conquered all native races in their vicinity, and believed themselves to be superior to the white, with whom they had not as yet been fairly tested in battle. This primal fact, and the gross mismanagement on the part of the Chartered Company (which Selous himself admits) of the cattle question, produced a feeling of bitterness on the part of the Matabele, who, being above all things cattle-owners, and not slaves who had been conquered, resented the regulation exacting paid labour from every able-bodied man. The confiscation, too, of their cattle and the manner in which the confiscation was carried out added fuel to the fire. These circumstances, combined with the fact that the Matabele nation had not been beaten in war, were the causes for the outbreak in 1893. The Matabele, in fact, were still too raw to appreciate the advantages (sic) of civilization. They did without them. The assegai and the raid were to them still the heart of life. From the time of Umsilikatzie till now their forays amongst their more or less defenceless neighbours had, comparatively speaking, been one continuous success, even the fairly powerful Bechuanas under Khama were in a constant state of dread. Within a few years they ravaged all the country up to the Zambesi, and even sent two expeditions right across the waterless Kalahari to attack the Batauwani of Lake Ngami. These were indeed bold enterprises, as the marauders had to traverse nearly four hundred miles of desert almost devoid of game and only inhabited by a few bushmen. This first expedition, in 1883, was only partially successful, whilst the second one met with complete disaster. The Batauwani got wind of the impending attack and sent their women and children and cattle beyond the Botletlie river. They then ambushed the Matabele and killed many of them, whilst large numbers were drowned in trying to cross the river. Not a single head of cattle was captured, and hundreds of Lobengula's best warriors died from starvation, thirst, and exhaustion on the return journey, whilst only a remnant of the army got back to Bulawayo. One smaller party of Matabele went north by the Mababe river and eventually got back to Matabeleland by the northern route.

It was between 1883 and 1890 that the Matabele were most active in attacking their weaker neighbours. Sometimes with diabolic cunning they "nursed" the various Mashuna chiefs until the latter became rich in cattle and ivory and were ripe for slaughter. This they did to Chameluga, a powerful sorcerer, whom Lobengula professed to esteem and even to fear, but this favouritism was, after all, only an assumed pose, for in 1883 an army was sent to destroy the Situngweesa, of whom Chameluga was chief. The chief was summoned to Bulawayo, but was met at the Tchangani river, and all his party slaughtered with the exception of a young wife named Bavea, who was taken prisoner, but afterwards escaped to the north. Before his death, however, Chameluga had just time to send a young son to warn his people, and they took flight into the hilly country between the Mazoe and Inyagui rivers, and only a few were destroyed by the raiding Matabele who had followed their spoor. In 1888 an impi raided the Barotsi and killed the chief Sikabenga and most of his tribe.

In 1890 the Matabele also attacked and almost completely destroyed the large Mashuna tribe whose ladies were so wonderfully tattooed, and which Selous described as seeing east of the Sabi on his visit there in 1885. Selous does not mention this in his book, although he must later have been well aware of the fact.

In 1893 I found that all the plain and forest country here was swept clear of natives, but to the east of the Sabi there were villages of Gungunhlama's Shangans living on the tops of the kopjes, their little grass huts hanging to the sides of the cliffs like bunches of martins' nests. They told me that in 1890 a big impi of Matabele had annihilated the Mashunas that formerly lived there, and they themselves, even in their aerial fastnesses, lived in constant dread of attack.

Although the Matabele had not moved during the advent of the Pioneer Expedition to Mashunaland in 1890, Lobengula and his chiefs had been in a state of smouldering unrest since that time, and the best authorities considered that they intended to attack Bulawayo, Salisbury, and Victoria, where many of the settlers and some troops had taken refuge and gone into "laager" in the early part of 1893. All signs pointed to a conflict, and when I reached the Middle Drift of the Limpopo in May of that year, I was strongly advised by the police officer in charge, Sergeant Chauner (afterwards killed), to return to the Transvaal. As he had no orders to stop me, and as I found my Boer friend, Roelef van Staden, ready to go on, I went north across the Umsingwani and shot some koodoos in Lobengula's pet preserve. This led to trouble, as we were captured by twelve Matabele warriors, who came to our camp and insisted on our accompanying them to the king's kraal. Of course we knew what this meant in wartime. Perhaps we should be killed, and at the least it would involve a loss of my whole outfit. So we sent most of the Boers and all the women and children back to the Drift and vanished eastwards in the night with our horses and a light waggon. In the morning some Matabele came after us and shouted that they intended to kill us and all the English that year, but a few shots fired over their heads dispersed them. Baulked of their prey the brutes then returned and assassinated a dozen poor Makalaka Kafirs with whom we had encamped.

After our departure to the hunting-ground to the east, only one Boer family, the Bezedenhuits, Mr. George Banks, Captain Donovan, and a Mr. Mitchell,[46] of the 15th Hussars, got into Mashunaland from the Transvaal, as the Matabele soon made their unsuccessful attack on Victoria and communications with the north were stopped. We had various adventures, but passed safely through the Matabele without being detected on our return. Mr. George Banks went West and Captain Donovan struck North and joined the British forces, whilst Bezedenhuit went out through the Lower Drift after a small fight with the Matabele.

In 1893 Selous returned to South Africa, went up country by the Bamangwato route, and joined the Chartered Company forces there in September. From Fort Tuli he wrote on September 30th:—

On this scouting trip he met with no adventures and he returned to Tuli on October 11th. On October 19th he started northward with Colonel Goold-Adams' column. On November 2nd his column met with its first opposition near Impandini's kraal, when the Matabele made an attack on some waggons coming into camp. "There was a bit of a fight," Selous wrote to his mother, "and the Matabele were driven off with considerable loss. I was unfortunate enough to get wounded. As I am in very good health, this wound is not at all dangerous, though, of course, it makes me very stiff and sore all down the right side, but I shall soon be all right again." Of the details of this day he wrote a more complete account to his future wife.

The campaign of 1893 against the Matabele was short and a complete success. A compact force, part of which had gone up through the Transvaal, and part from the north, and consisting of 670 white men, of whom 400 were mounted, moved up under the command of Dr. Jameson. It was under the guidance of Nyemyezi, a Matabele chief who was bitterly opposed to Lobengula, and the force travelled unmolested until they reached the Tchangani river, where they were attacked by some 5000 Matabele of the Imbezu and Ingubu regiments, who were heavily defeated. On hearing this news Lobengula fled from Bulawayo and recalled his son-in-law, Gambo, from the Mangwe Pass, which gave opportunity to the southern column, under Colonel Goold-Adams, to whom Selous was attached as Chief of the Scouts, to move up and join Dr. Jameson's column. When this southern force of Matabele heard of the disaster on the Tchangani to their picked regiments they retired to the Matoppo hills and surrendered without fighting.

Meanwhile Lobengula continued to retreat north of the Tchangani, closely pursued by Major Wilson and his column, which, getting too far from his support, was surrounded and annihilated with his small force at the Tchangani river. Soon after this the powerful Matabele, forced into the trackless bush in the rainy season, and seeing their women and children dying of starvation and fever, surrendered in detail and accepted the liberal terms offered them. The whole campaign was settled by two battles, in which they attacked the white men in laager and suffered many reverses. The fighting spirit of the natives, however, was only scotched but not killed, as subsequent events showed.

On November 11th Selous gives some interesting details of the general progress of the campaign after the Matabele had attacked them and been driven north. "The Matabele generalship has been abominably bad. They never did what they ought to have done, and we took advantage of their opportunities. The strong British column from the East, advancing through open country, with a large force of mounted men and a large number of machine guns, simply carried everything before it, and on the two occasions when they attacked the 'laager' the machine guns simply mowed them down. No one, knowing their abominable history, can pity them or lament their downfall. They have been paid back in their own coin.

Writing from Bulawayo, where he went into hospital, November 27th, 1893, he says:—

A very true prophecy.

In December, 1893, Selous left Bulawayo, as he thought, for ever, having no intention to return to South Africa.

He arrived home in England in February, 1894, and was married to Miss Marie Catherine Gladys Maddy, in her father's parish church at Down Hatherly, near Gloucester, on April 4th. Many old friends assembled at the Charing Cross Hotel to honour his marriage, and in a speech he said that his career as a Rugby boy had helped not only to support the fatigues which he had had to contend with, but to despise the strong boy who bullied the weak one and to admire the strong who guarded the weak. He thought that if any of those present should ever go to Matabeleland he would not hear anything that he had done but would become an Englishman as well as a Rugby boy. His Rugby friends subscribed together and gave him a handsome memento in the shape of a silver salver and ewer, and he was very proud of this gift.

Selous and his wife then went abroad for the honeymoon, passing through Switzerland and Italy. After a very pleasant visit to Venice they journeyed to Budapest, and on to their friends the Danfords, at Hatzeg in Transylvania, where Selous did a little egg-collecting. After some time spent in the mountains they went on down the Danube to Odessa, and so to Constantinople, where they made the acquaintance of Sir William Whittall, with whom Selous made plans to hunt in Asia Minor in the autumn of 1894. Selous and his wife then returned to England in July, and after his autumn trip to Smyrna, which is detailed later, he returned to Surrey and bought the land and arranged plans for renovating the house at Worplesdon which was afterwards his home. The original house was not large, but possessed a good area of land, flanked by a pretty and clear stream, and this plot was eventually made into a charming garden which Mrs. Selous has devoted care and energy to render beautiful and homelike. In later years a good orchard was added. The house was greatly added to and improved in 1899. At the same time as the house was being built a museum was erected close by, and in this all Selous' treasures, brought from his mother's house at Wargrave, were stored. As time went on it was found to be too small for his rapidly increasing collection, so in later years another wing was added, which made the whole building perhaps the largest private museum of its kind in Great Britain.

It was in August, 1894, that Selous went north for his first experiences of Highland sport. His destination was the Island of Mull, where for a fortnight he enjoyed the chase of the seal, the otter, and the wild goat, on the estate of Loch Buie, at the invitation of the Maclaine of Lochbuie. He thus describes his first search for seals and otters:—