Crossing the Buffalo

by Adrian Greaves

  Even if the order to stay out of Natal had existed, only three hours earlier the Zulus had attacked Isandlwana in disregard of the king’s instructions not to attack the British when encamped; crossing the border into Natal was no worse, especially if serious damage could be caused and Natal cattle looted. To the commander of the marauding Zulus, Prince Dabulamanzi, the prestige from invading Natal and engaging in serious plunder and ‘spear washing’ would offset the ignominy of having led the non-participating reserve force at Isandlwana; since the time of Shaka, warriors returning from battle with unblooded spears were viewed as cowards. By killing any Natal farmers they came across between the Buffalo river and Helpmekaar, and by burning farms and plundering cattle, they could still retire back to Zululand with honour vindicated.

  It must be unequivocally stated that attacking Rorke’s Drift was incidental to Prince Dabulamanzi’s plan to engage in some casual looting. The garrison was not even an objective; it just happened to be located in the area about to be plundered. Indeed, Prince Dabulamanzi may not have known of the close proximity of the mission station or of the presence of Bromhead’s B Company when his force crossed into Natal since, once across the Buffalo river, the Zulus split into several raiding parties. Some headed off to plunder and burn farms and imizi in the area towards Helpmekaar; one of these impis encountered Major Spalding, forcing him to abandon his relief march to Rorke’s Drift and return to Helpmekaar. Some Zulu raiders moved south and then inland while others followed the river northwards towards Rorke’s Drift where they came across a recently abandoned farm belonging to a white farmer, Edward Woodroffe, which they burned to the ground. It was only then that the first small group of Zulus approached the mission station and discovered that the buildings were manned by troops. As a result of the ensuing action the mockery that Dabulamanzi’s warriors were subjected to on returning home was severe, as it was popularly said that ‘You marched off, you went to dig little bits with your assegais out of the house of Jim, that had never done you any harm.’ 5

  Meanwhile, and just as the breathless Witt and his party arrived back at the mission station, Chard was enjoying his afternoon rest a half-mile away on the river bank. At 3.30 p.m. he noticed two horsemen, Lieutenants Vane and Adendorff of the NNH, galloping towards the drift from the direction of Isandlwana; they plunged their horses into the river shouting to Chard that the Zulus were approaching. There can be little doubt that Chard was bemused by the news, but before he had time to react, another messenger arrived from Bromhead requesting that Chard should strike his tents, inspan his wagon, load his tools and report immediately to the post. A rider from the Edendale Contingent had just delivered a note to Bromhead, written by Captain Essex who had survived Isandl-wana, reporting the loss of the British camp to the Zulus. Chard dispatched Vane and Adendorff to Bromhead with his reply that he would return to the post once he had collected his working party. As Adendorff rode off, he called back to Chard that he would stay on and fight.

  Having ordered his men to collect a water cart filled with river water, Chard set off on the half-mile ride to the post. At the mission station, Lieutenants Vane and Adendorff reported to Bromhead and strongly suggested that the garrison should move out with all speed before the Zulus arrived. Vane was ordered by Bromhead to ride on to Helpmekaar to warn the garrison; meanwhile, the dreadful news from Isandlwana had been reconfirmed by three more survivors from the battle, including Private Frederick Evans 2/24th on loan to the Mounted Infantry. Having made their reports, they too made off at the gallop towards Helpmekaar.

  Bromhead’s initial thought was to withdraw back to Helpmekaar; he ordered all tents to be struck and the two available wagons to be made ready to convey the hospital patients away from danger. However, Commissary Dalton intervened to point out the serious implications of the news and suggested that trying to outrun the Zulus over a distance of 12 miles of open country with a slow-moving convoy was doomed to failure. The climb to the ridge that led to Helpmekaar was long, steep and winding, and they would be vulnerable to attack. Without doubt it was Dalton’s advice that convinced Bromhead to stay and fight; Dalton was an experienced campaigner and Bromhead heeded his suggestion that the only course of action was to fortify the post and defend it. Furthermore, Bromhead hoped that Major Spalding would return at any moment with Rainforth’s company. Dalton may well have anticipated such an attack; during his earlier army service he had attended at least two field defence courses and may well have recognized that the post was undefended, something that neither Spalding nor Bromhead had realized. Many contemporary accounts and letters written by private soldiers acknowledge Dalton’s leadership and calm professionalism; the soldiers would certainly have been aware that he had served as a sergeant during the ninth Frontier War. It was undoubtedly with Bromhead’s approval that Dalton controlled events at this early stage.6

  After consulting with Dalton, Bromhead gave orders for a 4ft high wall of mealie sacks and boxes to be built around the perimeter of the storehouse and between the two buildings. There were piles of commissariat stores and a large number of 200 pound mealie sacks plus stacks of hundredweight biscuit and meat boxes; B Company’s men and some 300 black auxiliaries from Captain Stevenson’s NNC provided more than sufficient manpower to complete the work quickly. Along the front of the buildings was a 60 yard long 5ft drop off the ledge overlooking the Helpmekaar road, the orchard and Witt’s garden. Below the ledge and in front of Witt’s two buildings was a substantial garden wall so no further significant defences were considered necessary along the entire front of the position.7

  Witt and his party returned from the Oskarsberg shouting out the news of the approaching Zulus. Witt lost his composure when he saw his two buildings being fortified as part of the barricade; he became, in the words of Surgeon Reynolds, ‘excitable, and in broken English, demanded an explanation’, which was not forthcoming. Witt suddenly remembered his family, remounted his horse and rode off in a cloud of dust towards Helpmekaar.8 The Reverend George Smith sought to follow Witt but his horse and black groom had long since departed for Helpmekaar, so Smith had no option but to remain with B Company.

  As Witt rode out of the post, Chard arrived. Under Dalton’s direction the barricading was nearing completion and the two buildings were in the process of being loopholed for the defenders to fire through. Meanwhile, amidst the flurry of intense activity, the hospital sick and wounded were being transferred to the wagons; there was a short period of indecision before the process was reversed and all were returned to the hospital. Once it was decided to make a stand at the hospital, Dalton instructed that the external doors of the building were to be barricaded and its walls loopholed. It is a testament to Dalton’s great experience that Chard and Bromhead both deferred to him despite the fact that, as a mere Commissary officer, he was both socially and militarily inferior.

  By about 4 p.m. the two main buildings, the storehouse and the hospital, were linked by the perimeter wall which faced the Oskarsberg, and this wall was strengthened by incorporating the two wagons that would have taken the sick and wounded to Helpmekaar. Colour Sergeant Bourne was now instructed to take a small skirmishing party to a point east of the Oskarsberg where he could observe the approach of the Zulus; he was ordered to delay the Zulu advance while defensive preparations continued at the post.

  At some point, and despite his promise to Chard at the river that he would stay and fight, Adendorff quietly slipped away. He had already survived the British disaster at Isandlwana, and as he knew that Rorke’s Drift was about to be attacked by the same Zulus, his departure is understandable. Chard wrote in both of his official reports that Adendorff ‘stayed to assist in the defence’ but there is insufficient evidence from contemporary reports to indicate that he remained. Even his departure from Isandlwana was suspect; Adendorff initially reported to Chard that he had fled Isandlwana by the ‘Rorke’s Drift road’ but the Zulus had blocked the road well before their attack on Isandlwana. Vane met Adendorff only at the r
iver crossing and it has to be presumed that he fled Isandlwana before the battle began. When Chard claimed later that Adendorff stayed and helped at Rorke’s Drift he probably confused him with Corporal Attwood of the Army Service Corps.9

  Chard’s sappers had obviously not taken the threat of a Zulu attack seriously and had not yet arrived back at the post; Chard returned to the river to urge them on and had to forcefully decline an offer from Sergeant Milne to defend the ponts. Lieutenant Henderson and his troop of mounted NNH then arrived at the drift and informed Chard that they had escaped from Isandlwana. Henderson bravely agreed to cover the ponts and engage the Zulus to give those at the post warning of the Zulus’ approach from the drift; Chard then returned to the mission station. Meanwhile Bromhead dispatched a rider with a hurriedly scribbled note to the garrison at Helpmekaar which reads simply, ‘Sir, Intelligence has just reached camp that the camp at Isandula Hill is taken by the enemy.’10

  The first rank of Zulu skirmishers arrived at the drift and were promptly engaged by Henderson’s NNH. Outnumbered, the NNH withdrew, bypassed the mission station and headed off towards Helpmekaar. Lieutenant Henderson shouted his apologies towards the post whereupon Stevenson’s NNC, already greatly agitated by the prospect of facing the Zulus in overwhelming numbers, jumped over the barricades and ran after the fleeing riders, hotly followed by their white NCOs and Captain Stevenson. The mass defection of the untrained NNC was probably a blessing but for Stevenson and the NCOs to follow was not acceptable to the Imperial troops who stayed behind. They fired a volley after the deserters and Corporal Anderson fell dead.11 No one remembered who gave the order to fire and the matter was forgotten. With only minutes to go before the Zulus arrived, Chard gave orders for a dividing wall to be built across the position. Instead of abandoning the isolated hospital and moving the sick into the newly created smaller compound, he decided to defend the whole of the original perimeter.

  The first group of marauding Zulus to approach Rorke’s Drift did so cautiously from a distance of about half a mile. The Zulu scouts had reported back to Prince Dabulamanzi that the British position was weakly defended; it was an unexpected prize with piles of stores, food and soldiers’ rifles. Prince Dabulamanzi ordered the attack to begin and the advancing Zulus spread out into their ‘horns’ battle formation. As the Zulus advanced, they pushed Bourne’s skirmishers back to the post; Bourne later wrote, ‘I was instructed … to take out and command a line of skirmishers … and about 4.30 the enemy came in sight round the hill to our south and driving in my thin red line of skirmishers, made a rush at our south wall’.12

  On his return, Bourne supervised the opening of additional ammunition boxes and a supply system was arranged to ensure that every defender had a ready store of cartridges. Everyone could hear the approaching sound of gunfire coming from behind the Oskarsberg as the Zulus fired randomly into the rocks and bushes as they advanced. The work to defend the outpost was as complete as it could be and Commissary Dalton with the Reverend George Smith joined Bourne in opening ammunition boxes and distributing rounds to the soldiers along the defensive wall. Chard placed Sergeant Windridge in charge of the Commissariat store along with several casks of medicinal rum – both knew the soldiers’ proclivity for drink in times of crisis. The attack on Rorke’s Drift was about to begin.

  Meanwhile, Bromhead had directed six soldiers of B Company to take up defensive positions in the hospital rooms that Dalton had carefully prepared with loopholes. Those nominated were Privates Joseph Williams, John Williams (real name Fielding), Robert Jones and William Jones, Henry Hook and Thomas Cole. Those patients who were mobile were quickly issued with rifles and Gunner Howard and Privates Adams, Horrigan and Waters were nominated to look after the patients. Each defender was provided with a haversack full of ammunition, then all the doors and windows were sealed tightly with sacks and boxes. None of the defenders apparently noticed that they were now effectively trapped inside their allotted rooms.

  Private Hitch had been detailed to act as lookout from the roof of the commissariat store; he was positioning himself on the thatched roof when, at about 4.30 p.m., he shouted a warning as the first thirty or so Zulus came into sight. They were the iNdluyengwe scouts whose main force was making its way along the Buffalo river towards Rorke’s Drift looking for plunder opportunities. The scouts waited until another 500 or 600 warriors arrived; the Zulus then adopted the classic ‘horns’ attack formation to surround the post. Once in position, the Zulus advanced at a run towards the outpost’s south wall between the hospital and storeroom. The defenders opened fire at a distance of between 300 and 400 yards and a scattering of warriors fell. The Zulus ran with their shields held away from their bodies in the anticipation that the soldiers would fire at the steadily held shields and not the darting bodies holding them and, by using this tactic, many Zulus got to within 50 yards of the outpost. However, once they had recovered from the initial shock that they were under attack, the defenders’ fire began to improve and soon the British volleys forced the Zulus to retreat behind the numerous boulders that littered the lower slope of the Oskarsberg. The warriors then retreated and awaited Dabulamanzi’s main marauding force while others took refuge behind the 5ft high garden wall facing the ledge in front of the mission station. Meanwhile, any Zulu who showed himself immediately came under heavy crossfire from the two buildings.

  Rorke’s Drift hospital at 4 p.m. (before the attack)

  As more Zulus arrived at the post they spread out behind the garden wall to reinforce those in the orchard; they then charged at the rocky ledge that ran along the front of the hospital. Again they were met with devastating close-range volley fire and many warriors fell during this first concentrated charge. Those behind the leading Zulu casualties jumped over them but this bravery had little effect, as they were unable to climb the rocky ledge, now smeared with slippery blood. With no time to reload their rifles, the defenders fought with their bayonets and, although the Zulus relished close combat, the British bayonets forced their retreat back to the orchard and behind the garden wall. The Zulus left scores of their dead and wounded warriors lying several deep against the ledge. During the initial attack, Dalton shot a Zulu who had managed to climb the ledge and was who about to stab a corporal of the Army Hospital Corps. The overwhelming Zulu numbers were increasing as the minutes went by and, realizing that another ferocious attack could occur at any moment, the soldiers retreated from the lip of the ledge immediately in front of the hospital and withdrew to the biscuit box barrier between the ledge and the storehouse. In the midst of the initial attack Private Dunbar shot one of the two mounted Zulu chiefs from his horse; according to his comrades Dunbar later shot another six warriors.

  The main Zulu body then appeared at the rear of the outpost across the lower slopes of the Oskarsberg. As the soldiers watched, Zulu marksmen took up sniping positions among the Oskarsberg caves and commenced firing at the backs of the soldiers from less than 300 yards’ range; fortunately for the defenders the Zulus were poor shots. Meanwhile the main Zulu force assembled in the area of the garden and began creeping forward through the rough bush that grew right up to the front of the rock ledge. Although Dalton had given orders for the garden wall and bush to be cleared, there had been insufficient time to carry out his orders. Consequently the British defended their side of the garden wall, the Zulus the other. The British defenders now feared the Zulus would rush their position but the Zulus were not organized and their mounted chief, Prince Dabulamanzi, seemed unable to co-ordinate their attacks even though his force was assembled less than 100 yards from the front of the hospital. Dabulamanzi had earlier seen his induna shot from his horse and he was undoubtedly encouraged to remain out of sight of the defenders. Darkness would fall within the hour and the few uncoordinated rushes by the Zulus were beaten back by the British, who had not yet incurred any serious casualties.

  As darkness fell, and under cover of the bushes and long grass, the Zulus began moving to the far side of the post a
nd along the mealie bag walls on either side of the hospital, and were able to get to within 5 yards of the hospital without being seen. From this point, in parties of fifteen to twenty, they repeatedly attacked the end room of the hospital. They made these attacks in the most deliberate manner, advancing after the manner of their dancing, with a prancing step and high action. Each attacking group of Zulus faced the impact of close-range volleys and those who survived could only run onto the line of blood-covered bayonets, yet they appeared to care little about their inevitable slaughter.13

  Such close combat was new to the British soldiers whose previous experience was limited to volley fire – now, bemused by the combination of gunfire and screaming Zulus, and with their vision clouded by the acrid smoke from their own volley fire, they were fighting for their lives. Through the smoke and noise of battle Chard, Bromhead and Dalton managed to keep control over the outpost and when a gap appeared, one or other of these officers would step forward and join the fight. For the next few hours this pattern of assault continued, with each wave of Zulus being forced to retreat. Meanwhile the Zulu casualties were steadily increasing while the Zulu marksmen on the higher Oskarsberg terraces kept up their sporadic but ineffective rifle fire into the British post; a number of the Zulu marksmen had Martini-Henry rifles captured earlier at Isandlwana.14

  Then Dalton was shot at close range through his shoulder; he calmly handed his rifle to Chard before collapsing. Surgeon Reynolds quickly pulled him from the firing line to dress the wound. Within a matter of minutes, Dalton was back on his feet encouraging the defenders and, where necessary, giving orders. Surgeon Reynolds, separated from the hospital and his patients, also actively assisted with the defence; he repeatedly carried ammunition along the line, a Zulu bullet once striking his helmet as he did so. Corporal Schiess of the NNC, a Swiss national, had been hospitalized with a gunshot wound to his foot following the attack against Sihayo’s homestead; he joined the defensive line at the front of the outpost and fought alongside his British colleagues. He observed a Zulu who had hidden himself on the far side of the mealie bag wall and who was taking shots at the defenders. Without a thought for his safety, Schiess went to the barrier only to find himself looking down the barrel of a Zulu rifle. The Zulu fired and the round missed Schiess but pierced his soft hat; Schiess bayoneted the warrior, reloaded his rifle and shot a second, only to be attacked by a third warrior whom he bayoneted off the wall. Schiess later received the Victoria Cross for his bravery. Another hospital patient, Corporal Scammell of the NNC, had joined the line only to be shot in the back by a Zulu sniper firing from the Oskarsberg. As Scammell fell wounded he was attended to by Acting Commissariat Officer Byrne who opened his water bottle. As he bent down to give Scammell a drink, Byrne was shot dead by a Zulu sniper and fell on top of Scammell. The corporal pulled himself free of Byrne’s body and, seeing Chard with Dalton’s empty rifle, crawled over to Chard and gave him the rounds in his pouch before reporting to Surgeon Reynolds.