Crossing the Buffalo

by Adrian Greaves

  The relief column eventually crossed into Zululand on 29 March and was ferried by ponts across the Tugela river; it began its advance further to the east than the obviously difficult route originally taken by Pearson. Chelmsford was now more cautious; he selected open country where he could laager his wagons and entrench his column each night. The relief column travelled light; no tents or baggage were allowed even though it was known that the column would suffer from the heavy rain and intolerable heat that marked late summer in Zululand. Chelmsford’s scouts reported back to him that the Zulus were gathering in considerable numbers near Gingindlovu to oppose his relief column; their force consisted of the Zulus who had so successfully besieged Eshowe, reinforced by regiments from Ulundi under the command of chiefs Somopho kaZikhala and Phalane kaMdinwa.

  Chelmsford’s new-found caution made him choose more open country where he could laager his wagons and entrench each night. He further ordered that open ammunition boxes were to be readily available on the wagons. Once he had reached Eshowe, Chelmsford intended to relieve the garrison and replace them with fresh troops and supplies.

  The progress of the column was slowed by torrential rain that appeared each evening, swelling the rivers and streams and turning the track into a morass. Due to the adverse weather, their early attempts at laagering were chaotic and officers and men alike had to sleep on the ground totally unprotected from the regular downpours. Experienced men like John Dunn despaired of the British ever defeating the Zulus. By the third evening a simpler system had been devised so that each laager would be a square 130 yards each side, made up of thirty wagons butted together, and all the livestock placed within. At each night’s stop the troops dug a shelter trench 15 yards in front of the laager’s sides and sited the artillery and Gatling guns at each corner.

  On the evening of 1 April Chelmsford’s rain-soaked column formed a square laager on the top of a low rise leading from the southern bank of the Nyezane river. It was close to the ruins of kwaGingindlovu, the Zulu homestead that Pearson had attacked on the way to Eshowe, and within sight of Pearson’s earlier battle of Nyezane on 22 January. Knowing that a force of Zulus had detached from those surrounding Eshowe and was fast approaching, and having learned his lesson at Isandlwana, Chelmsford ordered the column’s wagons to be parked in a tight square with a trench dug around the outside of the wagons. The earth from the trench was then stacked to form a solid rampart which the men lined with the wagons behind them; all the column’s animals were brought into the square at dusk in anticipation of a Zulu attack. Chelmsford and his column were ready.

  As dawn broke over the Nyezane valley, the scene was partially obscured by a hanging mist that evidenced the heavy rain during the night. Then, through the gaps in the mist, several large columns of Zulus could be seen advancing towards the camp from the direction of the river. In preparation for their attack the advancing Zulus had already formed into their ‘horns’ battle formation. Chief Somopho was in command of the Zulus, with Prince Dabulamanzi, Chiefs Masegwane and Mbilwane and induna Sigcwelegcwele leading approximately 12,000 warriors from the uThulwana, uMbonambi, uMcijo, iNgobamakhosi and the uVe regiments plus an unknown number of local irregular Zulu units.

  Chelmsford’s men were urgently roused and all rushed to man the barricades. They patiently held their fire until the first Zulus reached the 400 yard marker posts; the battle was opened at 6.10 a.m. by a siting burst from a Gatling gun followed by a number of well-aimed volleys which cut through the advancing Zulus. In the still of the early morning, the British were enveloped in their own dense powder smoke and were forced to cease firing until the light breeze cleared their view.

  Undeterred, the Zulus sought to surround the British and steadily advanced through the tall grass. The first Zulu attack, on the north front of the square, came so close to the British position that one young Zulu warrior broke through the British line and was promptly seized by a marine. The warrior was kept as a mascot and later enlisted in the Royal Navy.

  The first assault was on the north side of the position, defended mainly by young and inexperienced recruits of the 3/60th Rifles who were about to undergo their baptism of fire. It was a terrifying moment for these young soldiers who had been regaled with gruesome stories of the slaughter at Isandlwana; now they were confronted by a seemingly irresistible charging horde of fearless warriors. Many either froze or fired wildly. Those officers and NCOs on elevated positions and wagons saw that many of the young soldiers were firing too high and the order was quickly given to lower rifle sights. The soldiers were further unnerved when their commanding officer, Lieutenant Colonel Francis Northey, was hit in the shoulder and taken to the ambulance. The wound did not look serious when it was dressed, but as Northey prepared to resume his position in the firing line the bullet penetrated an artery and he collapsed, haemorrhaging through his dressing. Northey remained under medical care at the laager at Gingindlovu where he painfully lingered on until he died on 6 April.

  Due to the determined efforts of their officers and NCOs, the young recruits were steadied enough to repel the attack. The officers held their men’s rates of fire to a commendable and well-aimed seven rounds per minute; the more experienced marines fired at the higher rate of sixteen. Meanwhile the Zulu centre commenced its attack against the west face of the square, which was manned by the 99th. Their well-aimed volleys stalled the warriors’ charge. During this furious exchange of firing Lieutenant George Johnson, who had fought at the earlier battle of Nyezane, was shot dead.

  The Zulu right horn then attacked the south wall occupied by the new recruits of the 91st Highlanders, who were much steadier than their counterparts of the 60th and beat off the attack. The remnants of this attack moved round to launch a final assault on the east side of the laager, which was defended by the older and more experienced men of the 57th, whose steady firing prevented any warrior getting close. Because the main Zulu force was advancing through very long grass, those defenders with rifles had a better field of fire from atop the wagons and inflicted many casualties. As the Zulu attack appeared to falter, Chelmsford prematurely ordered Barrow’s mounted troops out of the laager to drive off the warriors, only to recall them hastily when he saw they were in danger of being surrounded.

  As the shrapnel from the 7-pounders continued to take its toll the Zulus’ assault on the square ceased. Unable to break through the British defences, the Zulus lost their momentum and began to retreat to the comparative safety of the long grass and some nearby clumps of palm bushes. The officers then directed their men’s fire into the groups of hiding Zulus; this had the effect of killing a large number, forcing the survivors to flee back towards the river crossing and Wombane hill from where the Zulu reserves were observing the battle. The final shots were fired at 7.15 a.m. just as the Zulu reserves on Wombane, seeing their force beaten, also withdrew.

  Finally, after an hour’s fighting, Chelmsford reordered Major Barrow to take his mounted men and drive the remaining Zulus further away from the laager. They were followed into the fray by the riders of the Natal Carbineers who rode out with alacrity, cutting down exhausted and wounded warriors without mercy. The NNC were ordered to follow suit to seek out and deal with any Zulus attempting to hide. This was a task they relished with brutal enthusiasm, killing every Zulu they could find.

  Over 500 Zulu bodies lay around the laager, including one Zulu wearing an officer’s sword belt taken from Isandlwana, and many more bodies could be seen along their line of retreat. The Zulus lost more than 1,100 killed or seriously wounded; as many died in the post-battle mopping-up as were killed during the actual assault against the British position. The ruthless pursuit and killing of fleeing and wounded Zulus had first been witnessed at Rorke’s Drift. The post-battle operation at Gingindlovu was identical and was to give rise to many uncomfortable questions about Chelmsford towards the end of the war.

  Although the enemy were in retreat, they were still capable of putting up a spirited and deadly resistance. Final
ly they were thoroughly dispersed and the task of totting up the casualty lists began. The British had lost two officers and nine men killed and four officers and fifty men wounded. The rest of the day was spent burying the dead and reducing the size of the laager. Chelmsford decided to leave a reduced laager and press on to Eshowe with a flying column.

  Meanwhile in Eshowe, those with telescopes and binoculars had keenly followed the battle. Pearson ordered congratulations to be flashed to Chelmsford and the garrison awaited impatiently to be relieved. Chelmsford’s men finally reached Eshowe after a tough 15 mile march. When Chelmsford set out to relieve the Eshowe garrison, he had fully intended to replace the defenders with fresh troops and supplies in preparation for the onward march to Ulundi. After the battle of Gingindlovu he changed his mind and decided that Eshowe was too exposed to hold. Accordingly, he proceeded to Eshowe with a smaller, fast-moving column, leaving the remainder of the relief column at the Gingindlovu laager. Chelmsford and his reduced force arrived at Eshowe early that evening and were enthusiastically welcomed by the besieged garrison; following the initial euphoria of seeing new faces and catching up with news, the defenders were aghast to learn that Chelmsford had decided to abandon the fort instead of replacing it with a fresh garrison. During that evening feelings ran high as many of the defenders believed their heroic efforts, together with their considerable personal suffering and loss of colleagues, had all been in vain. To the open disgust of many in the garrison, they were ordered to destroy the fort and then withdraw. The following day Pearson’s men began their retreat back towards Fort Pearson while Chelmsford took Major Barrow and a mounted detachment to destroy Prince Dabulamanzi’s empty homestead, already ravaged by Pearson’s patrols, before joining Pearson’s retreating column. They failed to surprise the Zulu chief who retreated to some nearby heights from where he watched his homestead put to the torch.

  Collecting the rest of his men, Chelmsford abandoned Eshowe and marched after Pearson’s column. As soon as it was deemed safe, the ever-watchful Zulus entered the deserted mission and burned it to the ground. Catching up with Pearson, Chelmsford ordered him to head back by the most direct route to the Lower Drift, which he subsequently reached on 7 April. Chelmsford marched his column back to his old laager at Gingindlovu where the stench from the many Zulu dead drove him to remove to a fresh site nearby, which he felt could be supplied comfortably from Fort Tenedos. Chelmsford’s column reached the border soon after Pearson had arrived.

  Chelmsford acknowledged that, of all the different terrains that were fought over in Zululand, the coastal area was the most difficult. He was generous in his praise for the tenacious Colonel Pearson and his men and well pleased with the outcome of the two battles which had dealt the Zulus a severe blow. The human cost of holding Eshowe was evidenced by twenty-eight crosses in the cemetery below the mission and hundreds of sick, some 200 of whom were so ill that they were ferried to the hospital at Fort Pearson; one of them was Captain Wynne whose energy and skill had turned the mission into an impregnable fortress.

  Colonel Pearson was also beginning to suffer from typhoid; nevertheless he was appointed a brigade commander for the new invasion. He never fully recovered from his illness and, instead of leading part of the new invasion, was invalided home. For leading the Coastal Column for the initial invasion, he was made Companion of the Bath. No awards for bravery were made or personal reputations enhanced and the participants had to be content with the campaign medal as the sole reward for their exceptional endurance.

  It was following the battle of Gingindlovu that several British officers first examined the layout of Zulu casualties. They were curious concerning the defeat at Isandlwana, as previously everyone believed MartiniHenry rifles would produce effective volley fire at a range of up to 600 yards and should have been more than sufficient to repel any Zulu attack, regardless of its size. Although the opening Martini-Henry volleys at Gingindlovu had been fired at a range of 400 yards, few Zulu bodies were found beyond 200 yards. The efficacy of the rifle was never in doubt but the wisdom of opening fire beyond 200 yards began to be questioned by the British front-line officers.

  Chelmsford was also forced to realize certain realities; he had achieved nothing since the original invasion of Zululand on 11 January. Worse still, the border between Natal and Zululand was effectively undefended; superior Zulu forces and tactics had destroyed his Centre Column and the Northern Column under Wood was effectively locked in at Khambula. He now faced restarting the campaign. Fresh troops, new columns and different tactics would all be necessary before the reinvasion of Zululand could begin. The task of facing the now triumphant Zulus was daunting, yet, unbeknown to Chelmsford, the tip-over point to British success was rapidly approaching.

  CHAPTER 13

  The Northern Column

  The ground was strewn with bodies.

  NATAL MERCURY, 12 APRIL 1879

  Towards the latter part of January 1879 the Centre and Coastal columns had advanced through Zululand towards their new camps at Isandlwana and Eshowe; meanwhile, the Northern Column of Chelmsford’s combined pincer movement was making good progress advancing from the north towards Ulundi. With his distinctive enthusiasm for independent action, the Northern Column commander, Brevet Colonel Henry Evelyn Wood VC, had advanced his column into Zululand on 7 January, four days before the ultimatum expired. Wood was a remarkable leader; his father, Sir John Page Wood, had been chaplain and private secretary to Queen Caroline and his maternal grandfather was an admiral. Not surprisingly, Wood passed his Royal Navy entrance examination at the first attempt and entered the service. At the age of 14 he joined HMS Queen; two years later he was promoted midshipman. In 1854 HMS Queen was part of the fleet that bombarded Sebastopol when the navy was called upon to send ashore a twenty-one gun battery to shell the Russian defences; Captain Peel, son of the former prime minister, Sir Robert Peel, commanded the battery. Wood was appointed ADC to Peel who mentioned Wood’s daring exploits in several of his dispatches. On 18 June the British made a suicidal assault on the heavily defended Russian stronghold, the Redan. The 17-year-old Wood carried a scaling ladder and although twice wounded by grapeshot, he was the only one to reach the Redan and was recommended for a Victoria Cross – but was turned down. Instead, he was awarded the Légion d’Honneur and the Order of the Medijidie.

  Sent back to England to recover from his injuries and clearly excited by fighting on land, Wood resigned his naval commission and applied to join the army. His outstanding service at Sebastopol gained him a cornetcy without purchase in the 13th Light Dragoons and he was immediately posted back to the Crimea. Within days of his arrival Wood contracted both typhoid and pneumonia and for the next five months he was hospitalized at Scutari. This was the beginning of his lifelong encounter with sickness and accidents, and during the next fifty years Wood would suffer deafness, dysentery, eye problems, malaria, neuralgia, sunstroke, toothache and, to crown it all, ingrown toenails. He was further wounded by gunshot during the Ashanti War. He also received severe facial injuries when a giraffe, which he attempted to ride, trod on him; he was scratched by a tiger, and broke his nose and collarbone when his horse threw him against a tree while fox-hunting. At the age of 50, while attempting to ride a bicycle, he collided with a Hackney cab horse; the horse bit him and scarred him for the rest of his life.

  By June 1857 Wood had learned sufficient Hindustani for him to be appointed interpreter to the 3rd Bombay Cavalry, with whom he saw much action in India. In 1859, with the Mutiny now over, Wood won his Victoria Cross when he led an attack into the camp of a rebel band that had taken a number of European hostages. His small force was heavily outnumbered but Wood personally killed several rebels, put the rest to flight and heroically rescued the captives. He then returned to England and entered Staff College from which he graduated in 1864. Wood became one of the original members of the ‘Wolseley Gang’ and in 1873, when Wolseley was made commander of the British force sent to subdue the West African Ashanti tribe, h
e chose Wood to be his transport officer and to raise a locally recruited black auxiliary regiment. The campaign was successful and both Wolseley and Wood found fame as the result of their exploits, Wood being made Companion of the Bath and breveted full colonel.

  Wood was sent to South Africa in early 1878 as Colonel of the 90th Perthshire Volunteer Regiment and with his regiment he marched many hundreds of miles between postings and became campaign-hardened. The British commander in South Africa, General Thesiger, came to rely on the opinion of the experienced Wood and the two became friends and confidants. Having pacified the Transkei, Thesiger (soon to become Lord Chelmsford) and the High Commissioner, Sir Bartle Frere, now turned their attention to the invasion of Zululand. Wood persuaded Thesiger that the field force, called the Natal Column, should march to Natal rather than attempt the difficult sea journey. Wood marched the column 500 miles over rough terrain and crossed thirty-seven rivers before they reached Pietermaritzburg. In his biography Wood wrote of service in South Africa in glowing terms:

  It was a healthy climate, for, with proper sanitary arrangements and the absence of public-houses, the young soldiers improved out of recognition.

  Artillery subaltern Lieutenant Henry Curling wrote with cautious admiration:

  Col. Wood who commands the column is the most energetic, plucky man I ever met, in fact his energy almost amounts to a mania as he wears himself out and everybody under him. He is so plucky that he imagines that everyone is like him and would lead us into trouble if there is any serious fighting.1

  Wood and the 90th were then sent north to Utrecht, which was situated in the disputed territory on the Zululand border. Sir Bartle Frere appointed Wood as his political agent for Northern Zululand and Swaziland and gave him the delicate task of enlisting Boer support for the British cause. Despite serious raids by the local Zulus led by the rebel Swazi, Prince Mbilini, the Boers declined to ally themselves with the British, having recently learned that they were to lose part of their territory to the Zulus under the terms of the British border initiative, the Boundary Commission. As mentioned earlier, only one Boer leader, Piet Uys, offered his services along with about thirty-five male family members who acted as irregular cavalry with Wood’s Northern Column.