Rorke's Drift

by Adrian Greaves

  Once across, the force spread out in a defensive formation until the mounted patrols confirmed the absence of Zulu defenders. A few hundred yards from the crossing point a new campsite was prepared, and by noon the slow process of bringing stores and wagons across from Rorke’s Drift was well under way. It is unlikely that, during the crossing, any of the troops would have noticed the prominent rocky outcrop of Isandlwana that dominated the skyline some 7 miles away. It is equally unlikely that they would have known its name, with which their relatives would shortly become familiar: the Zulus called it Isandlwana.

  Chelmsford was delighted with the progress of the invasion and rode off to liaise with Colonel Wood, commander of the Northern Column, as it, too, was crossing into Zululand some 30 miles distant. By the following day all necessary supplies had been brought across the river and the column commenced the slow advance towards Ulundi. Within sight of the advancing troops, some 5 miles away, was a high row of steep cliffs that formed the backdrop to the umuzi, or homestead, of Chief Sihayo. Notwithstanding that the chief was an anglophile, wore European clothes and had been a good friend of James Rorke, it was Sihayo who had, unwittingly, outraged polite Natal society with the murder of his two adulterous wives within sight of the mission station. Of greater significance to the British commander was the fact that Sihayo’s homestead would lie directly across the invading column’s main supply route. Retribution was in the air and Chelmsford needed the stronghold neutralized; during the early hours of 12 January Chelmsford and his staff watched as the ‘untrained untrainables’ of the NNC spearheaded the first attack of the invasion against Sihayo’s homestead.

  Lieutenant Harford, a popular young officer on loan to the NNC from the 99th Regiment and a noted entomologist, led the attack. The attacking force advanced towards Sihayo’s homestead; they crossed the Batshe stream and approached the steep cliffs, coming under distant rifle fire from scattered Zulus sheltering in caves. Under fire from the Zulus, Harford enhanced his reputation by gathering a rare beetle; whilst he was on his hands and knees it was thought by watching senior officers that Harford had been wounded and the cry reverberated round the hills, ‘Harford is down, Harford is down’. With the beetle safely in his pocket, Harford continued with the attack. The NNC had been given specific orders not to harm non-combatants or their property on pain of severe punishment. The NNC formed up, and then stormed the stronghold supported by the 2/24th. It was weakly defended as Sihayo and his warriors were assembling with the main Zulu army at Ulundi. The NNC lost less than a dozen natives with a similar number wounded while the 24th sustained no casualties. Several of Sihayo’s men were captured and roughly interrogated, by necessity an unpleasant process and one that was to rebound on the British a few days later. Released the following day, the Zulus took comfort at the neighbouring village at Sothondose’s Drift, soon to be known as Fugitives’ Drift. Angered by the destruction of their village, the death of one of Sihayo’s sons and their own treatment, they were not well disposed to the British fugitives who were to flee through Sothondose’s Drift a few days later. The Natal Times enthusiastically reported the engagement at Sihayo’s homestead:

  THE FIRST ENGAGEMENTS AT RORKE’S DRIFT, VICTORIOUS REPULSE, SIXTY TO EIGHTYZULUS KILLED, LARGE CAPTURE OF CATTLE

  Up to 9 o’clock last night no intimation had been received from the front of shots being fired in any quarter; but at that hour we received the following important telegram, notifying the repulse and flight of the Zulus, with great loss on their side, at the first encounter. It will be seen that the initiative in attack came from the enemy, and, as has been expected, it was from Uirajo’s [Sihayo’s] people. We regret to see that one of Lonsdale’s officers has been killed, and, we fear, two of the Natal Mounted Police; but the telegram leaves room for a probability that the latter have only been wounded. They were probably chasing the flying enemy. The prediction of those best acquainted with the Zulus, that they would never stand the fire of regular forces, has been abundantly verified.

  Chelmsford’s headquarters staff issued its own dispatch:

  Despatches from Lord Chelmsford’s headquarters, up to the 13th, state that the Rorke’s Drift column (Colonel Glynn’s) was taken out to reconnoitre on the 12th. In passing under the Neguda Hill, one of Usirajo’s strongholds, Lord Chelmsford ordered Colonel Glyn, with four companies 1-24 and 1-3rd Natal Native Contingent, in skirmishing order, to advance towards the hill. They were fired on from krantzes and caves, which were cleared in about half an hour, and about 500 cattle taken. Colonel Degacher, with half a battalion 2-24 and 400 2-3rd Natal Native Contingent, was then ordered to Usirajo’s own kraal, under a very steep krantzfull of caves, which were found empty. Usirajo’s own kraal was burnt, but none of the other huts touched. Lord Chelmsford says “the Native Contingent behaved very well; not a native touched a woman or child, or killed the wounded men.” Lieut.-Colonel Russell was sent along the Isupezi Hill road, to ascend the high ground above the krantz, where nearly at the top, about 60 of the enemy opened fire, at a distance of about 100 yards, with little effect. Colonel Russell dismounted his men and drove off the enemy with a loss of 9 or 10 killed, among whom was one of Usirajo’s sons, shot by Sergt. Steele, and distinctly recognised after his death. Total loss of enemy about 30. 0n our side, two of the Natal Native Contingent killed, 12 wounded; Corporal Meyor, N.N.C., severely wounded in the thigh, Lieut. Purvis, N.N.C., severely wounded in the arm. Usirajo’s men behaved with great courage. The wounded, prisoners included, are well cared for. Progress very difficult from heavy rains. Soldiers of all arms and force in good health. The result of the action gave great confidence to camp followers and natives of all classes. Commandant Lonsdale recovering from effects of a bad fall.

  Following the skirmish at Sihayo’s homestead, the subject of captured Zulu cattle caused much discontent among column troops who all expected a fair share of the plunder. Evidently, the cattle captured at Sihayo’s and the surrounding area had been sold cheaply to contractors and word spread quickly through the column.5

  The Natal Witness correspondent at Rorke’s Drift sensed the widespread disquiet among the troops and sent the following report on the subject, published on 22 January:

  The captured cattle, than which a finer lot I have rarely seen, a large portion being oxen fit for the butcher, and milk cows with calves, were absolutely sold to the contractor by the prize committee, who consisted (I believe) of two captains in the N.N.C. – though it does not much matter who they were – for the sum of £2 head, the goats for 2s 6d and the sheep for 6s a head. There will be very considerable discontent among all ranks if the bulk of our prize money goes to enrich contractors.

  After destroying Sihayo’s homestead, the invasion force made a temporary camp halfway between Rorke’s Drift and Isandlwana to enable the Royal Engineers to repair the wagon track that ran through two swampy areas along the invasion route. Lieutenant MacDowel RE had been brought from Rorke’s Drift to supervise the repairs, there being no further need for an officer at the ponts. The following morning Chelmsford, accompanied by his staff and escorted by fifty mounted infantry, made a reconnaissance along the roadway leading towards Isandlwana. The morning was fine and dry, and until the heat became great – which it very soon did – the ride was a pleasant one. The first part of the ride was over the section of road that had been lately undergoing repairs. The soil was of a dark alluvial nature, and so soft that the wheels of a wagon would stick fast in it. The worst places had to be filled up with stones and deep trenches had to be cut on each side of the track to permit drainage. Nearby Zulu huts were found to be most useful: they were pulled down and the wattles and supports, of which they were composed, were spread over the roadway.

  That morning several natives came into the camp with a warning for Chelmsford that Cetshwayo intended to decoy the British and lure them into the bush; the Zulu army would then make for Natal. On his return Chelmsford dismissed their warning; he believed the drifts were adequately covered and re
solved to push on deeper into Zululand without delay. The Natal Witness reporter with the Carbineers submitted the following dispatch to his newspaper on 18 January; it was published on 23 January.

  We have already had three different patrols into the enemy’s quarters. Rumour had it that there were thousands near to us: but, though we hunted up hill and down dale, “saw we never none.” It is impossible to know what to believe. The Zulus must assuredly be somewhere, but wherever we go, we only come across deserted huts. It is evident that a large number of the people have taken to flight, but whether they have done so through fear of us, or of their own “noble savage” defenders, I cannot undertake to say. As a change, however, on the last occasion we came across a Zulu, whom we took prisoner. On questioning him as to why there were so few men about, he said that they were quite scared away at the manner in which we had taken their mountain fortress [Sihayo’s] from them – as they had not ever dreamt that we should venture up it. This amount of fear does not look very much like the wonderful prowess of the Zulus, of which we heard so much in Natal. I imagine they are much like other natives – very great at bragging, but easily depressed and panic-stricken by any sudden reverse.

  The camp at Rorke’s Drift now lay silent, guarded by a token force; only B Company of the 2/24th with 100 men had been left behind to guard the advancing column’s reserve of stores and the hospital. The soldiers were under the command of 33-year-old Lieutenant Gonville Bromhead, an officer from a famous military family. Bromhead has unfairly been portrayed elsewhere as a ‘duffer’ with poor mental acuity and little enthusiasm for activity; in reality he was very popular with his men, being a champion boxer, a wrestler and an accomplished top scoring regimental cricketer. He did suffer from recurring deafness that caused him embarrassment on parade when he misheard orders. Although B Company had been left behind to guard the mission station, the men knew they would follow their regiment as soon as their relief arrived; the company from the 2/4th Regiment designated for the protection of Rorke’s Drift were still marching to the front.

  The company’s senior NCO was 24-year-old, 5ft 3in tall Colour Sergeant Bourne, who had originally joined the army under age as a 16-year-old. He ran away from home, probably to avoid becoming a farm labourer, and on hearing that the 24th Regiment were visiting Brighton he walked the 16 miles to join them. His father later tried to buy him out on the grounds of his age and lack of stature, but as he was doing so well his army service continued.6 The young Bourne made rapid progress and his three promotions to lance sergeant, sergeant and his present rank had been made within the last year. He had, nevertheless, experienced command in action on several occasions during the recent Cape Frontier wars. Due to his youthful looks the men knew him as ‘the lad’, a nickname that always amused him. After the main invasion force departed, there was little for the men of B Company to do other than assist with moving stores as and when wagons from Helpmekaar arrived and otherwise occupy themselves as best they could. Their tents were neatly pitched in two rows between the church and the small cattle kraal, well away from Witt’s house; and the men’s favourite haunt was the cooking area where they could lounge about, when it wasn’t raining hard.

  Bromhead had a number of officers to keep him company. Lieutenant Smith-Dorrien was in charge of a small wagon repair unit that was situated next to the large cattle kraal. The hospital building was commanded by Surgeon Reynolds who, with one member of the Army Hospital Corps and a soldier of B Company, looked after the fifteen or so hospital patients and were in the process of preparing the building in anticipation of casualties when the Zulus were eventually encountered. The Column’s chaplain, the Revd George Smith, a veteran of the Bushman’s Pass fiasco in 1873, had also remained at Rorke’s Drift, uncertain of his role with the advancing column. Finally, the stores were organized by three hard-working officers of the Commissariat; their senior officer was Assistant Commissary Walter Dunne who was supported by Acting Assistant Commissary Dalton, a very experienced officer with over twenty years’ previous service with the 85th Regiment from which he had retired as a sergeant before moving to South Africa. Dalton had joined the Commissariat as a civilian at the end of 1877 and participated in the Ninth Border War, being the only civilian mentioned in dispatches during the campaign. He had been in sole command of the forward stores depot at Ibeka, which came under direct attack on two occasions; he then successfully supervised the logistics for Colonel Glyn’s fighting column. It was on Glyn’s strong personal recommendation that Dalton was appointed to the Centre Column’s Commissariat. Dalton’s deputy was 21-year-old Acting Storekeeper Louis Byrne from Pietermaritzburg who joined the Commissariat at Dalton’s request; he was still technically a civilian pending confirmation of his appointment. Due to their lower status in the army, these three lived apart and dined separately from Bromhead and the other officers. Assisting the Commissariat officers at Rorke’s Drift was 32-year-old Corporal Attwood of the Army Service Corps. Attwood was an argumentative individual who had been transferred from Helpmekaar to Rorke’s Drift as a punishment for his behaviour.

  During the day preceding the invasion, another officer arrived at Rorke’s Drift: he was 31-year-old Lieutenant John Rouse Merriott Chard of the Royal Engineers. Chard had arrived at Durban a few days earlier as the result of a request from Chelmsford for an additional detachment of engineers. In the absence of any direct orders and accompanied by his batman Sapper Robson7, Chard had taken a horse-trap ride to Helpmekaar in a worthy attempt to arrive before the column advanced into Zululand.8 Having arrived at Rorke’s Drift he was, again, without orders. He made contact with Major Spalding of the 104th Regiment, Chelmsford’s deputy assistant adjutant and quartermaster general, who was also the commanding officer at Rorke’s Drift and responsible for communications and supplies from the front line. Spalding instructed Chard to plan a sturdy redoubt overlooking the river and to supervise its construction as soon as further reinforcements of the 24th, still at Helpmekaar, arrived to undertake the work. In the meantime there was little for Chard to do so he erected his tent near the ponts where MacDowell and his engineers had previously camped. His interaction with Bromhead and the other officers was minimal, probably because Royal Engineers officers were, like the Commissariat officers, not considered to be ‘proper’ officers. There was another officer present who, being considered by the line officers to be socially inferior, kept apart from all others; he was Captain William Stephenson, a Colonial officer of the NNC who commanded some 300 natives whose task was the completion of all menial tasks around the camp at Rorke’s Drift. All settled down to await events.

  In the meantime, and in order to justify the invasion of Zululand and to reassure the European population of Natal, Frere issued a statement that appeared in the Natal Times on 18 January 1879:

  The British Forces are crossing into Zululand to exact from Cetywayo reparations for violations of British territory committed by the sons of Sihayo and others, and to enforce compliance with the promises made by Cetywayo at his Coronation for the better government of his people.

  The British government has no quarrel with the Zulu people. All Zulus who come in unarmed, or lay down their arms, will be provided for until the troubles of their country are over. And will then, if they please, be allowed to return to their own land; but all who do not submit will be treated as enemies.

  When the war is finished, the British Government will make the best arrangements in its power for the future good government of the Zulus in their own country, in peace and quietness, and will not permit the killing and oppression they have suffered from Cetywayo to continue.

  Referring to the British invasion force, the Biggarsberg correspondent of the Natal Mercury wrote for his newspaper, ‘This army could not be beaten the world over’.

  CHAPTER 4

  Isandlwana, 22 January 1879

  There will be an awful row at home about this.1

  Having witnessed the derisory effect of Zulu marksmanship at Sihayo’s homestead
, where the Zulus had been unable to hit the extended column of mounted troops and marching men at 200 yards, Chelmsford was even more enthusiastic to confront the Zulu army. Beating the Zulus had proved to be so easy; getting the wagons from Rorke’s Drift to the next campsite at Isandlwana was now proving to be more difficult.

  Reconnaissance had shown that the route between Rorke’s Drift and Isandlwana lay along a rough traders’ track that crossed two marshy areas and a number of dongas, or watercourses. To undertake the work of making the track passable to the army’s heavy wagons, four companies of the 2/24th were detailed to undertake the work and to make a depot for firewood, assisted by native levies, under the command of the regiment’s senior staff officer, Major William Dunbar. Dunbar was ordered to pitch his tents beneath a rock outcrop close to Sihayo’s homestead amidst heavy thorn with no field of fire. He did his best to clear the ground but was obliged to mount strong guards every night with men who had been working all day. On the 16th the position was inspected by Lord Chelmsford and his staff who were accompanied by Glyn and other officers; Dunbar made his fears known to them and asked for permission to move his camp to the other side of the stream. In the discussion that followed, Chelmsford’s senior staff officer, Lieutenant Colonel Crealock, seems to have lost his temper and remarked impatiently ‘if Maj. Dunbar is afraid to stay there, we could send someone who was not’.2 Dunbar, a big imposing man, resigned his commission on the spot and walked off in a rage, but was later persuaded by Chelmsford to postpone his decision for the time being. This incident must soon have become known to his fellow officers. Until his promotion in 1874, Dunbar had been the senior captain of the l/24th and had the most distinguished war record of any officer in the two battalions. The embarrassment caused to both Chelmsford and Glyn, whose relationship was already difficult, should not be underestimated.