Rorke's Drift

by Adrian Greaves

  The associated custom of disembowelling a fallen enemy – qaqa – was directly related to the Zulu view of the afterlife and its relationship with the world of the living. Part of this ritual involved slitting open the stomach of the slain enemy. Under the African sun any corpse will quickly putrefy and the gases given off by the early stages of decay cause the stomach to swell. In Zulu belief this was the soul of the dead warrior vainly trying to escape to the afterlife. The victor was obliged to open the stomach of his victim to allow the spirit to escape, failing which, the victor would be haunted by the ghost of his victim, who would inflict unmentionable horrors upon him, including causing his own stomach to swell until, eventually, the victor went mad.

  Mehlokazulu kaSihayo, son of Sihayo and an attendant of King Cetshwayo, was present at Isandlwana with the iNgobamakhosi regiment. In his account of the war, which was recorded in September 1879, he made various references to the subject of stripping and disembowelling the dead:

  As a rule we took off the upper garments, but left the trousers, but if we saw blood upon the garments we did not bother. All the dead bodies were cut open, because if that had not been done the Zulus would have become swollen like the dead bodies. I heard that some bodies were otherwise mutilated.8

  At Isandlwana, some bodies were disembowelled immediately. Trooper Richard Stevens of the Natal Mounted Police survived the battle, and recorded his shock at the practice:

  I stopped in the camp as long as possible, and saw one of the most horrid sights I ever wish to see. The Zulus were in the camp, ripping our men up, and also the tents and everything they came across, with their assegais. They were not content with killing, but were ripping the men up afterwards.9

  One aspect of Zulu ritual that did result in mutilation of the dead was the removal of body parts from a fallen enemy that could be added to the ritual medicines used to prepare the Zulu army before a campaign. These medicines were known as intelezi, and were sprinkled on the warriors by izinyanga, war-doctors, before the army set off on campaign. Parts from a dead enemy, especially one who had fought bravely, would be an enormous boost to Zulu morale thus ensuring supremacy in battle. Since a number of izinyanga accompanied the army that triumphed at Isandlwana, they would certainly have taken the opportunity to collect the raw materials for such medicine from dead soldiers. Archibald Forbes’s graphic account of the state of the bodies at the time of the first burial expedition to Isandlwana in May 1879 is highly suggestive:

  Every man had been disembowelled, some were scalped, and others subject to yet ghastlier mutilations.’10

  At Isandlwana these mutilations included the disarticulation by the Zulus of the dead soldiers’ jawbones for trophies, complete with beards. Facial hair was relatively unknown to the warriors and the luxurious beards worn by the soldiers fascinated them. Despite the soldiers’ deep-seated fears that these mutilations were carried out before death, and therefore amounted to torture, there is no evidence that this was in fact the case. Interestingly, after Isandlwana the practice of shaving became widespread throughout the army; soldiers accepted the necessity of dying for their country but were reluctant to be disarticulated after death on the battlefield.

  The gulf of cultural misunderstanding was so wide that, after Isandlwana, any Zulu who fell into British hands was doomed.

  Oblivious of the drama and slaughter at Isandlwana, Chelmsford and his reconnaissance force had met up with Dartnell’s force and both groups then experienced a day of intense frustration some 15 miles out on the plain towards Ulundi. The Zulu army had not materialized but a number of large Zulu groups had repeatedly given the British the slip in and around the Magogo hills near the Mangeni falls. The Zulus would appear in force on a distant hilltop, only to have disappeared when the weary troops reached the position; it was a cat-and-mouse tactic repeated throughout the day and resulted in Chelmsford’s force becoming angry and exhausted by the effort. It was after 12 noon and while lunching at Mangeni that Chelmsford received reports that Isandlwana was under attack, but due to the fact that the British at Isandlwana did not strike the tents, the distant and blurred view through the heat haze suggested that the camp was intact. Chelmsford presumed that, had an attack occurred, the British were in sufficient numbers to win the day.

  It was only at about 3 p.m. that Chelmsford decided to return to Isandlwana to ascertain events for himself. He took with him a small escort; en route he met Colonel Hamilton-Browne who, having watched the defeat of the camp from a hillock 3 miles from Isandlwana, tried to persuade Chelmsford that the camp was lost. While the two officers discussed the situation, Commandant Lonsdale arrived from Isandlwana and confirmed the camp was in the hands of the Zulus.

  Chelmsford ordered his scattered force around Mangeni to assemble for the 12 mile march back to Isandlwana; by the time they arrived back at Isandlwana, the camp was silent and in darkness. Chelmsford ordered the artillery to fire several rounds into the previously tented area in case the Zulus had occupied it. Major Black and his company then stormed the small hill opposite the shattered wagon park. The Zulus had long since departed having totally smashed and looted the camp.

  On the southern slope of Isandlwana lay some 5, 000 bodies; the British lost 1, 500 defending the camp, the remainder were Zulus who had been killed during the battle. The devastation in the camp was reflected by the entry in the 24th Regiment’s official history.

  There were no ‘wounded’ or ‘missing’, only ‘killed’. From the 1st Battalion the twenty-fourth lost 16 officers and 407 NCOs and men, including R.S.M. Gapp, Q.M.S. Leitch, five other Staff Sergeants and five Colour Sergeants. Of the 2nd Battalion there perished five officers and 127 other ranks, including Bandmaster Ballard and Q.M.S. Davis. It was a worse blow than Chilianwala; even 1914–1918 was not to produce such another casualty list.

  Through the darkness that now descended on Isandlwana, an eerie red glow began to lighten the sky from the direction of Rorke’s Drift. Chelmsford and his weary survivors were quickly forced to realize that their base camp and hospital at Rorke’s Drift were under Zulu attack. Due to the utter exhaustion of his men, Chelmsford was powerless to intervene. He paced up and down throughout the night while his men caught what sleep they could until dawn.

  CHAPTER 5

  Rorke’s Drift; The Prelude

  Nothing will happen.

  MAJOR SPALDING, ON DEPARTING FROM RORKE’S DRIFT

  Having arrived at Rorke’s Drift too late to accompany the invasion force, Lieutenant John Chard of the Royal Engineers had pitched his tent at the site of the river ponts previously occupied by his engineer colleagues. Chard’s superior and the senior Royal Engineers officer at Rorke’s Drift, Lieutenant Francis MacDowel, had sufficiently impressed Chelmsford and Glyn with his engineering skills that he and his detachment had been ordered to join the invasion column for road-building purposes. Meanwhile, the ponts at Rorke’s Drift were in the care of Sergeant Milne of the 2/3rd Regiment and six Natal natives. Chard was disappointed that there were no specific orders for him, especially since he had made a spirited dash on horseback from Durban in anticipation that he would be in time to accompany the invasion force. In the absence of orders he glumly assumed responsibility for the ponts and awaited events. Being a good half-mile from the mission station, Chard kept to himself and had little to do with anyone else, apart from Major Spalding who was in overall command. For several days Chard was content to await his orders and spent his time making minor adjustments to the ponts; soon there was nothing for him to do. During the evening of 21 January, an ambiguous order arrived from the Centre Column ordering the engineers to Isandlwana;

  The party of R.E. now at Rorke’s Drift are to move at once to join the Column under the charge of the NCO.

  Chard was evidently sufficiently confused by the reference to the NCO being in charge of the party instead of himself to raise the matter with Major Spalding in an attempt to clarify his role and responsibilities. Spalding knew that a fortified position to protec
t the river crossing was due to be built on the small rise immediately overlooking the ponts; but this work was scheduled to be undertaken by the five companies of the 2/4th Regiment who were still marching to the front. Spalding had little idea of their where abouts or when he could expect them. Not knowing what to do with this underemployed officer, Spalding agreed that Chard should ride to Isandlwana the following morning to ascertain his duties from the column commander.

  Since the invasion column had departed, life at Rorke’s Drift had become unusually comfortable for those who remained behind, including Lieutenant Bromhead and the eighty-five members of B Company of the 2/24th. Only the surgeon and his small team were occupied with an ever-increasing number of sick or injured. There were now thirty-five hospital patients who occupied the three largest rooms in what was formerly the Revd Witt’s home. The senior ranking patient, Sergeant Maxfield, was given Witt’s bed as he was delirious with fever. The remaining patients had been allocated straw beds on wooden pallets propped up on bricks. Even accounting for the British attack on Sihayo’s stronghold, there were only three men, all from the NNC, who were suffering from actual war wounds. Corporal Schiess, a Swiss national, had serious blisters on his foot and Corporal Mayer was suffering from a leg injury. One of Sihayo’s Zulus had been shot through his leg and, as a prisoner, he had been isolated from the other hospital patients. The remaining cases related to fever, trench foot, lumbago and rheumatism in addition to several cases of injuries sustained from wagon accidents; all were under the care of Surgeon Reynolds and his three orderlies from the Army Hospital Corps. On loan to the surgeon was Private Henry Hook from B Company 2/24th, a 28-year-old teetotaller from Gloucestershire and an excellent cook; his main responsibility was to feed the patients.

  On 22 January the day dawned dry and bright. By breakfast time it was obviously going to be a hot day and, with no wagons to be loaded, Bromhead gave most of his men free time; a section of eight men were detailed to guard the ponts, not in itself an onerous task. Captain Stephenson’s NNC company, camped next to the river to the right of the old drift, merely sat in the sun and avoided any form of physical activity as did their officer and six white NCOs. The commissaries should have been reloading empty wagons from Isandlwana in order to transfer further stores forward to Glyn’s column but, in the absence of the wagons, there was nothing to do; they also enjoyed a quiet morning free of any responsibilities.

  Before dawn the transport officer of Glyn’s column, Lieutenant Horace Smith-Dorrien, had ridden back to Rorke’s Drift from Isandlwana to deliver an order to Colonel Durnford, who had arrived at the drift the previous evening; Durnford was to move his force forward to support Chelmsford. Smith-Dorrien took breakfast with the commissaries to discuss the re-provisioning of the column and during the meal he informed them that a major engagement against the Zulus was expected later that day. He then returned to Isandlwana.1

  At daybreak Chard had ordered his small detachment, consisting of Corporal Gamble and Sappers Cuthbert, MacLaren, Wheatley and Robson, to load the engineering equipment onto their mule wagon and set off for Isandlwana. Not wishing to be further delayed, Chard impatiently rode on ahead of his men. On arriving at Isandlwana he found the main camp in some disarray; Chelmsford had taken half the force to support Major Dartnell who had, or so he thought, discovered the advancing Zulu army. Isandlwana camp was now defended by the l/24th who were manning their forward line over half a mile away from the camp; this was in response to groups of Zulus congregating about 2 miles distant on the Nqutu Plateau overlooking the British position. There were several teams of men taking down tents while the remainder, clerks, cooks and bakers, bandsmen, farriers and other camp staff went about their daily business, all seemingly oblivious of the Zulus observing them from the plateau overlooking the camp. Chard initially went to the officers’ mess and obtained some breakfast. He then sought out the headquarters staff to ascertain his orders, which were disappointing: he was to return to Rorke’s Drift to supervise the ponts and keep the road between Rorke’s Drift and Isandlwana in good working order. Before he departed from Isandlwana, he learned that another large group of Zulus had been seen observing the camp from the high Nqutu plateau. Using his binoculars he could clearly see the Zulus silhouetted against the distant skyline; he observed a number of them move away from the ridge. One group moved off to the west and, thinking they might approach Rorke’s Drift and cut him off, Chard decided to return to the drift to deny the Zulus access to his ponts. One mile from Isandlwana, he met Colonel Durnford’s column advancing towards Isandlwana. Chard ordered his men to offload their stores onto one of Durnford’s wagons and to march the remaining mile to Isandlwana, and to their deaths later that day; he took the wagon and Sapper Robson back with him to Rorke’s Drift where he arrived at midday to be given a copy of the daily orders.

  Camp Rorke’s Drift

  22nd January 1879.

  Camp Morning Orders.

  1 The force under Lt.Col. Durnford RE. having departed, a guard of 6 Privates and 1 N.C.O. will be furnished by the detachment 2/24th Regiment on the ponts. A guard of 50 armed natives will likewise be furnished by Capt. Stevenson’s detachment at the same spot – the ponts will be invariably drawn over to the Natal side at night. This duty will cease on the arrival of Capt. Rainforth’s Company, 1/24th Regiment.

  2 In accordance with para. 19 Regulations for Field Forces in South Africa, Capt. Rainforth’s Company 1/24th Regiment, will entrench itself on the spot assigned to it by Column Orders.

  H. Spalding, Major

  Commanding.

  There was still no sight of Rainforth’s company, now several days overdue. This new order posed Chard a problem; he knew that if the Zulus arrived at the drift, he could not possibly defend the ponts with seven men and a handful of natives. Rainforth’s company should have been in position at Rorke’s Drift well before the main column crossed into Zululand and Glyn had since dispatched three sets of orders to Rainforth requiring him to move down from Helpmekaar; as the commander at Rorke’s Drift, Spalding knew of Glyn’s orders and he presumed they, or Rainforth, had failed to arrive. In fact the orders had been at Helpmekaar awaiting Rainforth whose company had fortuitously arrived the previous day having been severely delayed by the deep mud and storm damage to the Helpmekaar road. There were now two companies of the l/24th at Helpmekaar, Rainforth’s and Upcher’s G and D Companies, and both made preparations, presumably to comply with the awaiting orders, to march on to Rorke’s Drift later that day.2

  At about 1 p.m. Chard reported to Spalding and told him of the Zulus at Isandlwana; he also explained his difficulty in complying with the order in the absence of Rainforth’s company. Spalding was clearly irritated by the situation as he had sent two additional written orders to Helpmekaar and could not understand Rainforth’s non-arrival.3 Spalding decided to ride to Helpmekaar to clarify matters; as he was about to depart, he asked Chard: ‘Which of you is senior, you or Bromhead?’ Chard didn’t know so Spalding returned to his tent and examined his copy of the Army List. Spalding then told Chard ‘I see you are senior, so you will be in charge, although, of course, nothing will happen, and I shall be back again this evening, early’. It was 2 p.m. when Spalding rode out of Rorke’s Drift and with his departure he abandoned his chance of glory; Chard casually returned to his riverside tent for a late lunch with Commissary Dunne and the intention of spending the remainder of the afternoon writing letters home.

  It is strange that Chard did not consider it necessary to inform Bromhead, the commander of the only fighting troops at Rorke’s Drift, that he had earlier seen Zulus heading in their direction. To be fair to him, Chard was the only officer at Rorke’s Drift without any campaign experience in Africa and may not have understood Zulu tactics. Bromhead was oblivious of what Chard had seen; Chard sought out Commissary Dunne and after lunch, the pair rested in the shade of their tarpaulin shelter while the rest of the garrison quietly went about their own duties.

  Colour Serge
ant Bourne, accompanied by Sergeants Gallagher, Smith, Windridge and Wilson, first visited the Shiyane summit behind the mission station on 12 January. From here they had a magnificent view into Zululand and on a daily basis they were able to watch the Centre Column progress into Zululand; they even followed the Column’s successful attack on Sihayo’s stronghold in the Batshe valley. The same group were on the summit at midday of the 22nd when they heard the distant sound of artillery fire coming from the direction of Isandlwana. They strained to see the 6 miles to Isandlwana but could see nothing of note and then returned to camp. A few minutes later the muffled sound of gunfire could be heard at Rorke’s Drift from the direction of Isandlwana, but not by Bromhead due to his deafness. Chard could not have heard this either; his campsite was in a depression by the river and out of sight of Isandlwana.

  Rorke’s Drift

  Eager to find out more, and with nothing else to do that afternoon, the Swedish missionary Witt, the Revd George Smith with his telescope, and Surgeon Reynolds took some horses and set out to ride to the summit of the Oskarsberg in the hope of seeing what was happening. From their vantage point they could see three distant columns of natives approaching the Buffalo river from the direction of Isandlwana. Revd Smith’s first impressions were that these columns were detachments of the NNC returning to Rorke’s Drift until, half an hour later, Smith noticed that there were two natives on white horses leading an obvious impi of Zulus. Ahead of the main impi they saw scouting patrols of Zulus who appeared to be searching in wide sweeps and occasionally firing into the bush. They remained watching the advancing Zulus until Surgeon Reynolds noticed some riders approaching the mission station from the direction of the river; thinking that they might need medical attention, he set off down the hillside, quickly followed by the others. All four were in no doubt that an unusual event must have occurred to allow a large Zulu force to bypass Chelmsford’s main column and head for Rorke’s Drift, completely unhindered by British troops.