Warriors were responsible for their own weapons, but the king initially received the spears in bulk from those clans that made them, distributing them to warriors who had distinguished themselves. Most warriors carried clubs or knobkerries, the iWisa, which were simple polished sticks with a heavy bulbous head. Zulu boys carried them for everyday protection and their possession at all times became second nature. A number of axes were used; these were often ornamental and were imported from the tribes in the north.
In any battle or confrontation a large body of troops were also always kept in hand as a reserve; they were usually seated with their backs to the enemy so as not to get excited; the commanders and staff assembled to some eminence, and retained one or two of the older regiments as extra reserves. All orders were delivered by runners. No great changes had been introduced into Zulu tactics or movements consequent on the introduction of firearms though, in addition to firearms, each man usually carried four or five spears. One short and heavy-bladed spear was used solely for stabbing, and was never parted with; the others were lighter, and sometimes thrown. The men armed with firearms rarely carried a shield. The Zulus made great use of spies, had an elaborate system for obtaining and transmitting intelligence, and were efficient at outpost duty. The following notes on engaging the enemy come from a memo published under the direction of Lord Chelmsford in 1879.
Although the Zulus will often meet their enemy in a fair fight in the open, like all savages they are fond of ambuscades and other ruses.
In going through bush, remember that the natives will often lie down to let you pass, and then rise and fire on you.
In moving through bush advance and rear guards and flanking parties are necessary.
They should look well under the bushes, and notice all footmarks and sounds, such as the cracking of bushes, & c, and note whether the twigs have been lately bent or broken, or the grass trodden down, all indications of men having recently passed. When the bush is too thick for flanking parties, the leading file should turn to the right and enter the bush as far as he can, kneel, and look well under the bushes; the next file, after about five paces, turn to his left, and the next to his right, and so on. The whole body may do this or only the advanced guard, according to circumstances. As the rear of the force in question approaches, the files rise in succession and close by sections, moving along between the halted sentries, and when the foremost of these is reached the process is repeated.
When waylaying or surprising an enemy make no noise until the enemy finds you, rise, and move, not along the path, but just inside the bush.
When moving near an enemy, or reconnoitring, do not return to the camp by the route you left it.
A common ruse with the natives is to hide a large force in the bush and show a few solitary individuals to invite an attack. When the troops enter the bush in pursuit of the latter the hidden men rise and attack them.
In advancing through bush a herd of cattle is seen feeding with only a small guard, which runs as soon as our troops appear. The mounted men push on to capture the former, and when they are well separated from the rest, the natives, who were hidden all the time in the bush, rise and cut them off before the infantry can come to their rescue.
Native advance guards and flanking parties cannot be trusted, the former will cluster together, and the latter will often lie down.
Natives always know when an enemy is in the bush, but they often forget to report it, thinking the white men know as well as themselves.
The Boers found that the Zulus could not stand repeated cavalry charges on the flanks, and that a very effective method of attack was to gallop upon their flanks, dismount, and fire into them; retreating to reload, or when attacked.
When the wagons of a force are parked at night, if the Zulus attack they always try to make the cattle, which are kept within the park, stampede, in order to break a hole in the line of defence.
The same applies to cavalry, who should take every precaution against their horses being stampeded by a sudden attack.
By the time of the British invasion the Zulu army possessed firearms in large numbers. A trusted English trader, John Dunn, had imported them in large quantities for Cetshwayo. During the 1870s as many as 20, 000 guns entered southern Africa through Mozambique alone, most of them intended for the Zulu market. The majority of these firearms were obsolete military muskets, dumped on the unsophisticated ‘native market’. More modern types were available; particularly the percussion Enfield, and a number of chiefs had collections of quality sporting guns. Individuals like Prince Dabulamanzi and Chief Sihayo of Rorke’s Drift were recognized as good shots but most Zulus were untrained and highly inaccurate; numerous accounts of Zulu War battles note both the indiscriminate use of their firepower and its general inaccuracy.
By the time the Zulu War commenced, successive Zulu kings had efficiently controlled the development of Zulu social organization and ensured a comparatively healthy and prosperous population. Anthony Trollope travelled through southern Africa and parts of Zululand during 1878 just as European hysteria was mounting; yet he viewed the Zulus as being perceptive and living in sympathy with their time and environment. He wrote, ‘I have no fears myself that Natal will be overrun by hostile Zulus, but much fear that Zululand should be overrun by hostile Britons’.
CHAPTER 3
Springboard to War
I am inclined to think that the first experience of the power of the Martini-Henrys will be such a surprise to the Zulus that they will not be formidable after the first effort.
DISPATCH FROM LORD CHELMSFORD AT PIETERMARITZBURG TO COLONEL WOOD, 23 NOVEMBER 1878
Apart from the 24th Regiment that had previously been stationed at King William’s Town, all other troops and stores for the Centre Column’s invasion of Zululand had commenced their African journey at the port of Durban. Everything then travelled by dirt road to Pietermaritzburg, thence to Greytown and to the main invasion column’s store area situated on the crest of a range of hills, the Biggarsberg, at Helpmekaar.1 The roadways between the towns were nothing more than rough tracks and passage was at the mercy of heavy rain that regularly made them unnavigable even though gangs of locally recruited natives toiled to make passable the numerous bogs of slime along the route. Prior to the build-up for the invasion there was little at Helpmekaar, just two rough stone-built farmers’ houses and, nearby, a tiny church built in 1874 by another farming family, the Vermaaks. The area was isolated, desolate and windswept but the end of 1878 saw vast columns of red-coated soldiers and laden wagons laboriously winding along the valleys and toiling up the long slope towards Helpmekaar. The army commandeered the two houses and erected three sheds constructed of zinc sheets to protect the column’s perishable supplies of grain, forage and ammunition boxes from the rain. As soon as the zinc sheds were full, a neat row of thatched huts was built to cope with the ever-increasing overflow of stores. Within days a sea of white tents covered the whole area and extended more than a mile towards the pass that led down the steep spur towards the Zulu border at Rorke’s Drift, some 10 miles further down the track. As the troops gathered, the daily activities of the camp included butchering and baking, cooking and cleaning, drill, polishing equipment, parades and either sheltering from the rain or drying wet clothes in the hot sun. The centre of the position was a confusing mass of stores surrounded by wagons and horse- and ox-pens. Due to the heavy rains and troop movements, much of the area had already become a deep quagmire of foul smelling sticky mud; furthermore, dysentery broke out among the troops. To make matters worse, the wagons bringing Christmas supplies to the troops remained firmly stuck in the mud at Umsinga, some 20 miles away, and only reached Helpmekaar the following week. The British weekly magazine, the Graphic, reported the appalling conditions, (8 March):
Nothing, on first landing in South Africa, impresses the newcomer more than the immense teams of animals used for drawing a single wagon. We have seen as many as twenty-four thus yoked together, and although the driver
at the shafts has a phenomenally long whip, yet he cannot reach the leader, so there is generally a gentleman on horseback, also armed with a whip, to stimulate the energies of the foremost cattle. These long teams are necessitated by the rugged nature of the country. Some of the roads are more like walls than roads for steepness, and the bullocks have to hang on like houseflies.
The Centre Column’s advance from Rorke’s Drift was to be spearheaded by the two very experienced battalions of the 24th Regiment whose men were battle seasoned and fresh from engagements during the recently ended Cape Frontier War. Both had received high praise for their ‘cheerfulness in facing hardships and discomforts and by their good conduct and good discipline in the field’.2 Chelmsford had spoken of them ‘in the highest terms’, indeed, the soldiers were hardened to both battle and the climate; they were fighting fit and suntanned, most were bearded and their patched and repaired uniforms were evidence of many months of constant combat. Their officers were equally fit, enthusiastic about the coming campaign and totally familiar with the tactics of the unsubdued native tribes, or so they thought. It was not until early January that both battalions eventually met up again at Helpmekaar, which in itself was unusual as it was War Office policy to maintain one battalion of each regiment on a home posting. The l/24th Regiment had marched to Helpmekaar leaving D and F Companies at Durban, much to their annoyance due to a plague of bugs, fleas, ticks and mosquitoes, 3 though F Company was to follow on in time for their fateful meeting with the Zulu army. The 2/24th Regiment had already arrived at Helpmekaar in the beginning of January and on 9 January, just a few days short of the thirtieth anniversary of the 24th’s unfortunate experience at the battle of Chillianwallah, the officers of both battalions, sitting on supply boxes, shared a mess dinner at which a toast was proposed: ‘That we may not get into such a mess and have better luck next time’.4
The following day the remaining troops still at Helpmekaar marched the 12 miles off the high escarpment and down along the deeply rutted track to the border with Zululand at Rorke’s Drift. The whole area was a hive of activity; they passed a large party of natives under the supervision of a detachment of Royal Engineers who were repairing the roadway down the escarpment to Rorke’s Drift. On arrival at the campsite they saw the Royal Engineers detachment commanded by their officer, Lieutenant Francis MacDowel, the Centre Column’s only RE officer, testing the two barrel ponts that would carry them across the river to the Zulu bank. MacDowel was well known for his ingenuity; he had initially been attached to Wood’s Northern Column until Glyn commandeered him to improve the efficiency of the ponts.
Chelmsford had already visited Rorke’s Drift on 4 January and was impressed with the readiness and enthusiasm of the gathering invading force. His intelligence officers reported that a large force of Zulus was assembled to oppose the invasion; Chelmsford informed his subordinates that he hoped the reports were true. Back at Helpmekaar he was presented with three emissaries from Cetshwayo who requested more time to consider the ultimatum; Chelmsford ignored them just as he had the ignored six previous pleas from Cetshwayo, and, fearing the emissaries were spies, banned further Zulu messengers from entering British positions.
Unexpectedly, and equally unbelievably, Chelmsford was faced with the threat of mutiny by his previously loyal Colonial troops. He had unthinkingly given command of the Natal Mounted Police and all the Natal volunteer units to Brevet Major John Russell of the Mounted Infantry, ignoring their own commandant, Major Dartnell. Chelmsford had previously decreed that all commanders were to be Imperial officers and had given an instruction to this effect in para. 144 of his Regulations for Field Forces in South Africa. The effect of this regulation debarred any colonial officer, regardless of his rank, from having command over Imperial troops. The severely disgruntled colonials paraded at Helpmekaar and took a vote on the matter; it was unanimously decided that they would not enter Zululand under the command of an unknown British officer, especially as they respected Major Dartnell’s proven experience in native warfare. Chelmsford was forced to compromise and promoted Dartnell to the rank of lieutenant colonel and appointed him to his own staff, which gave him authority over Russell. The decision was grudgingly accepted by the Colonials who then obeyed their orders and moved down to Rorke’s Drift.
Just a half-mile from the Buffalo river crossing of Rorke’s Drift and on a rising outcrop of rock was the Swedish mission station run by the Reverend Otto Witt. It consisted of the missionary’s house and a small church; both made of local stone with thatched roofs. The station lay in the lea of the Oskarsberg hill. The 700ft high hill commanded a magnificent view over the Buffalo river and gave a clear view for some 5 miles into Zululand. The homestead itself consisted of three acres of cultivated land that included an orchard of grapevines and orange, apricot, apple, peach, fig, pomegranate and other fruit trees. There was a vegetable garden protected on one side by a 130ft long and 5ft high wall, the whole being surrounded by an assortment of lime trees and quince bushes. The main building, Witt’s home, was nearly 30 yards long and airy and spacious. Witt’s small, dignified church, 40yds away, was used by the missionary in his daily work with the local native community. Immediately beyond the church was a small cattle kraal and then, below the rock terrace on which the buildings nestled, there was a larger stone cattle kraal that could hold 100 cattle. The mission station was connected to the rest of Natal by a dirt track that led westwards towards the high escarpment of the Biggarsberg and thence to Helpmekaar. In the other direction the track continued down towards the Buffalo river and was the only route into Zululand for hunters and itinerant traders plying their wares among the Zulus.
Since 9 January, the influx and noise of British troops and all the impedimenta of Chelmsford’s invasion force had shattered the tranquillity and beauty of Rorke’s Drift. The Imperial troops and white volunteers erected their tents in neat formations between the river bank and the mission station while the Natal Native Contingent (NNC) were instructed to camp downstream of the Europeans; their domestic and cleansing habits left much to be desired, even to campaign-experienced troops. Notwithstanding the protestations of Otto Witt, Assistant Commissary Chermside had commandeered the two buildings on behalf of the Crown. On the day before the invasion, Chermside swiftly converted Witt’s twelve-roomed house into a makeshift hospital to cater for several cases of fever and soldiers with damaged limbs caused by a number of incidents where wagons had slid into some marching troops. The church became an ammunition store and in despair at the damage caused to his home and church, Witt dispatched his wife and small children to stay with friends at nearby Umsinga, some 10 miles south of Helpmekaar.
The previously tranquil mission station now seethed with activity as over 5, 000 men of the invasion force and a similar number of oxen and horses were assembled on the sloping area between the mission station and the river. It rained incessantly and the area soon became a muddy quagmire strewn with effluent and rubbish, yet spirits remained high as the hours passed towards the expiry of the ultimatum.
The Natal Witness published two reports (5 January):
No attempt to cross the river will be made if opposed, except under the protection of the battery. These Zulus do not yet know what a shell is like or what effect it will have upon them. May they soon learn, and the larger the quantity that is present the better the effect will be.
On arrival I was sorry to hear of the accident which had occurred during our absence. An order had been issued some days ago, that no one was to bathe above the drift, probably because it is all deep water above the stream – an order which rather excited the ire of the numerous good swimmers among the volunteers, especially the Carbineers, but which, from the sad occurrence of this morning, was only too plainly needed. One of the Newcastle Rifles, by name Dixon, got into a hole below the drift, and, being unable to swim, was drowned. A volunteer party attempted to recover his body, but failed. It has cast a considerable gloom over the portion of the force to which he belonged. Heal
th in camp generally good.
On the evening of 10 January, Chelmsford arrived with his entourage of staff officers and the word quickly spread that the invasion would take place the following morning. The troop’s level of excitement was high; the final adjustments had been made to the ponts and few men had slept. During the night the six guns of N Battery commanded by Colonel Harness RA were moved through the camp and relocated to an adjacent small rise overlooking the river. Shortly after 2 a.m. reveille was sounded, men dressed and gathered their equipment, wagons were coupled to their oxen and within the hour the column approached the river crossing point; everyone was ready to commence the invasion. One minor diversion occurred when it was discovered that a trader’s supply wagon had been looted and a cursory search failed to discover the culprits or the stolen stores. As dawn came the whole area was covered in a heavy wet mist so that the Zulu river bank could not be seen; eyes peered into the mist but no sound of massing Zulus could be heard. As the mist gradually lifted, the opposing bank and surrounding countryside was bathed in bright sunshine; there was no sign of the Zulus. Unbeknown to Chelmsford, the nation’s warriors were already assembled 60 miles away at Ulundi and were being prepared for the defence of their country.
The invasion of Zululand began on 11 January with a simultaneous advance of the three main columns in a crescent formation. The Coastal Column progressed slowly northwards hugging the coastline of the Indian Ocean. The Centre Column advanced from Rorke’s Drift while the Northern Column advanced from Luneburg across the Blood river. At Rorke’s Drift, the mounted troops cautiously rode their horses through the swirling waters using the submerged flat rocks of the original traders’ crossing point. Once across, they spread out in a wide semicircle in anticipation of a Zulu attack. All they saw were three startled Zulu boys tending their cattle. The mounted troopers held their defensive position while the infantry were slowly ferried across the river. The Native forces had been assembled downstream of the main crossing point and were cajoled by their officers towards the fast flowing muddy river. They began the crossing in their customary style by linking arms and entering the water in a ‘V’ formation, those in the front apex being pushed across by those in the rear. When the front ranks reached the far bank, they then pulled their colleagues over; the Native contingent lost several men in the crossing but, as their officers didn’t know how many natives they commanded, little concern was shown.
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