The Zulus and Matabele: Warrior Nations

by Glen Lyndon Dodds

  Some 35 yards to the east of the hospital, and slightly to the rear, stood the storehouse, a larger stone-built structure measuring some 80 feet by 20 feet, with a thatched roof. It had previously functioned as Witt’s chapel. The stores were presided over by Acting Assistant Commissary J.L. Dalton, aged 50, an ex-Sergeant-Major of the 85th, and Acting-Storekeeper Byrne. South of the storehouse lay the cookhouse, and in front, just to the right, of the stores was a kraal (cattle enclosure) with stone walls 4 feet high, below which was a large less well-built kraal with lower walls. The post was overlooked, to the southeast, by Shiyane Mountain, 500 feet high, and some 300 yards away.

  As noted, mealie bags and biscuit boxes were used to form a rampart, which was about 4 feet high. On the south side, this ran from the storehouse to the southeast end of the hospital, incorporating the two wagons in the defences. It then ran from the northwest end of the hospital (though the defences here appear to have been incomplete when the battle started) eastward along the top of a rocky terrace—extending along the front of most of the station—towards the smaller of the kraals, and from here it continued to connect with the storehouse.

  Firing positions around the perimeter were allocated by Bromhead to members of his company and to anyone else with firearms, including some members of the NNC. Moreover, loopholes were made in the walls of the hospital, which was provided with a garrison of six men of B Company. Furthermore, rifles were issued to hospital inmates capable of using them, and ammunition made ready for the men in general. Private Hitch of B Company was stationed astride the roof of the storehouse as a look-out.

  Shortly after 3.30pm, while the preparations were in progress, Chard received reinforcements when a white officer, whose identity is uncertain, rode up with a detachment of NNH, perhaps about 100 strong, after escaping from Isandlwana. Chard asked him to deploy part of his command at the drift, while the rest were to act as outpost ‘in the direction of the enemy, and check his advance as much as possible.’

  Chard also relates that several more survivors of Isandlwana appeared on the scene and ‘tried to impress upon us the madness of an attempt to defend the place.’ In so doing, they hindered preparation work on the defences, for it was ‘impossible to prevent the men getting around them in little groups to hear their story.’ They then left the tiny garrison to its fate.

  At about 4.20pm, the garrison heard the sound of firing coming from behind Shiyane Mountain. The NNH deployed along the river had become engaged in skirmishing with advancing Zulus. Soon their white officer (whom Knight believes was almost certainly Lieutenant A.F. Henderson, the commander of a troop of BaSotho belonging to Durnford’s No. 2 Column) galloped up after disengaging, reported the proximity of the Zulu force, and then rode away towards Helpmekaar in the wake of his fleeing men. Their flight alarmed the NNC, who likewise made off, as did their European commander, and some of the enraged garrison fired at them as they did so. Hence the strength of the garrison was rapidly depleted.

  The perimeter was thus too long and Chard immediately withdrew men from the line to erect an inner barricade of biscuit boxes between the western end of the storehouse and the northern rampart. This task was still underway when Hitch shouted from the roof as Zulus began to come into view to the southeast, after skirting the southern side of Shiyane. It was about 4.30pm.

  The Zulus in question were the iNdluyengwe. Only a few appeared at first, but soon they numbered between 500 and 600 and formed up into the classic crescent formation. They advanced at a steady trot towards the south wall, firing ineffectively as they did so. Many were cut down when the British opened fire. Nonetheless, their colleagues pressed on. Chard comments:

  We opened fire on them, between five and six hundred yards, at first a little wild, but only for a short time . . . . The men were quite steady, and the Zulus began to fall very thick. However, it did not seem to stop them at all . . . . It seemed as if nothing would stop them.

  When within 50 yards of the south wall, however, they were subjected to such heavy cross-fire from the hospital and storehouse that they veered left to find a more vulnerable sector, though some took cover and proceeded to fire at the defenders.

  Their colleagues surged around to attack the hospital, from the west and north, and the west section of the northern perimeter defences. Here there was less chance of being caught in cross-fire. In addition, there was more cover provided by bush and trees, cover that extended eastward to about the point where the cross-wall of biscuit boxes ran southward from the northern perimeter. Hence the warriors managed to engage in ferocious hand-to-hand fighting. Even so, they were soon repulsed and took shelter. Private Hitch recalled: ‘Had the Zulus taken the bayonet as freely as they took the bullets, we could not have stood more than fifteen minutes, but they seemed to have a great dread of the bayonet, which stood to us from beginning to end.’

  Meanwhile, the two other Zulu contingents had evidently joined forces to the east of Shiyane and they now came around the southern side of the mountain, following in the footsteps of the engaged younger regiment. Some of them took up positions among rocks near the foot of Shiyane, from where they were to harass the British with gunfire, but the majority moved northwest of the post and occupied the garden, the sunken road and the nearby area of bush. Reinforced, the iNdluyengwe, together with the new arrivals, renewed the attack against the hospital and northern perimeter wall, with their assault screened to some degree by the thick bush. Fierce fighting thus occurred, but the Zulus were forced back, only to come on again in a series of determined assaults. The uThulwana seem to have borne the brunt of losses during this phase of the battle. Casualties were, of course, also sustained by the defenders. Some of the soldiers manning the north wall, for example, were hit in the back by fire from the Zulus on Shiyane. The British wounded were tended in the storehouse, which had been transformed into a makeshift surgery. A constant stream of men was to require Reynolds’ attention.

  The ammunition of the defenders was being expended rapidly by the ferocity of the Zulu onslaught. However, fresh rounds were supplied by Chaplain Smith, assisted by wounded men no longer able to fight.

  Chard, Bromhead and Dalton were also playing their part, constantly moving back and forth along the line, giving encouragement and engaging in the fighting whenever occasion demanded. Of Bromhead, Chaplain Smith comments: ‘As long as we held the front wall, the Zulus failed in their repeated attempts to get into the far-end room of the hospital, Lieutenant Bromhead having several times driven them back with a bayonet charge.’

  At around 6pm, in failing light, the Zulus began to fan out to their left, attacking further along the north perimeter. In response, Chard ordered his men to fall back to the line of biscuit boxes, realising that they could not defend the entire perimeter. In so doing, he reduced it to a circumference of about 170 yards, in which the storehouse’s back wall formed an impenetrable barrier. The Zulus immediately occupied the outside of the defensive wall that Chard had abandoned and opened fire from it.

  For their part, the hospital’s defenders evacuated the building under severe pressure. While some of those inside continued firing through the loopholes, others began to tunnel eastward through the partitions of unconnected rooms at the rear—a task that became more desperate when Zulus forced their way into the building, whose thatched roof they set alight. The warriors were held at bay by two or three men who afforded protection to those digging frantically with their bayonets, and helped patients on and through the resulting gaps towards the yard beyond. It was an exhausting, laborious, frightening task. Upon emerging from the hospital, the survivors had to cross the yard to rejoin their colleagues behind the biscuit boxes. Some failed to make it, cut down by Zulu fire or by warriors who dashed forward, spear in hand. Chard relates the fate of Trooper Hunter of the Natal Mounted Police after he emerged from the hospital. He ‘stood still for a moment, hesitating which way to go, dazed by the glare of the burning hospital, and the f
iring that was going on all round. He was assegaied before our eyes, the Zulu who killed him immediately afterwards falling.’

  With the onset of darkness, the garrison found itself completely surrounded as the Zulus shifted the focus of their assault to the east side of the station (while keeping up the pressure elsewhere) and launched an attack from the northeast, intent on breaking their way in over the stone kraal that formed the defenders’ eastern perimeter. Being further from the burning hospital, this sector was less well lit and thus offered the Zulus more cover. A desperate struggle ensued in which the Zulus finally succeeded in driving their opponents from the kraal. Furthermore, some warriors moved against the storehouse, bent on setting it alight, but were shot down by the men charged with its defence.

  As the battle raged, some of the soldiers set to work making an 8 feet high redoubt of mealie bags within the reduced defences. The most seriously wounded members of the garrison sheltered in the redoubt, which provided a second and elevated field of fire and could serve as a final line of defence should this be necessary—by now a distinct possibility.

  The weary Zulus made their last charge at about 10pm at the latest. Nonetheless, they kept the garrison on tenterhooks into the early hours by shouting ‘uSuthu!’ from one quarter or another, and by firing in a desultory manner. From about 4am silence ensued, though the garrison remained alert.

  Dawn came about an hour and a half later. The Zulus were no longer in sight, for the majority had fallen back the way they had come. As a precaution, however, the garrison hurriedly strengthened its defences in the event of further attack. Then, at about 7am, hearts in the camp sank when a large body of Zulus appeared on a hill to the southwest and the weary soldiers hurriedly manned the defences. A huge amount of ammunition, some 20,000 rounds, had been expended, and little remained, no more than one and a half boxes, although each man had an ample supply in his pouches. With an acute sense of foreboding, the soldiers watched, expecting the Zulus to come on again. They did not. They stood looking at the post for a while, brave men looking at brave men, before at last disappearing at around 8am.

  Tension thus eased in the camp and soon turned to elation when mounted troops were seen galloping towards the battered post. They were Russell’s Mounted Infantry, and they were followed by Chelmsford’s and Glyn’s column who had left Isandlwana before dawn so that the ghastly remains of the previous day’s battle would not be seen by the young men of the 2/24th. En route, Lord Chelmsford had come across the majority of the Zulus who had been engaged at Rorke’s Drift and were moving in the opposite direction. Both sides had refrained from attacking.

  Chelmsford feared that the garrison at Rorke’s Drift had been annihilated and his sense of relief upon seeing that this had not occurred can well be imagined. He interviewed those who had distinguished themselves in the post’s defence and must have been struck by the decisive role the hastily erected defences had played in its survival.

  Zulu dead lay scattered in and around the virtually demolished defences, especially heaped along the northern face of the perimeter. According to Chard, burial parties soon disposed of 351 Zulus, but for months to come bodies of scores of others who had been mortally wounded were found strewn about the surrounding countryside—there is reason to believe that many were finished off on the day after the battle by British patrols—while others must have died of their injuries after reaching their homesteads. Total Zulu losses may have been in the region of 600 dead. Dabulamanzi’s men undoubtedly paid a high price for the courage they had displayed. Subsequent jeers made against the survivors by their countrymen that they had fought like women were cruelly misplaced. And what of British losses? Fifteen members of the garrison had been killed outright, two mortally wounded, and sixteen others less seriously injured.

  The heroic defence of Rorke’s Drift presented Chelmsford and others, such as Sir Bartle Frere, with a propaganda coup that was exploited to the full in an effort to redeem the fiasco of Isandlwana. It was portrayed as a major strategic reverse for Cetshwayo, an action that thwarted a Zulu invasion of Natal. The magnificent stand of Chard and his men did not go unrewarded. Indeed, eleven Victoria Crosses were awarded to members of the post, an unprecedented number for a single action, and among the recipients were Lieutenants Chard and Bromhead.

  Even so, Isandlwana itself had been a grievous blow and as a result of the heavy losses sustained, Chelmsford had no alternative other than to ride off towards Pietermaritzburg shortly after reaching the post to begin preparations for a renewal of the campaign.

  On 11 February the news of the Battle of Isandlwana reached London and was discussed at a cabinet meeting that afternoon. The Prime Minister, Benjamin Disraeli, and his ministers were horrified by what had happened (as was the nation when the news appeared in the press) and arrangements were made to send out substantial reinforcements post-haste. The government, which was preoccupied by a conflict in Afghanistan, had suddenly found itself entangled in a costly and essentially disastrous war it had not wanted, a war brought about by the wayward Frere. In parliament, the opposition demanded his recall. The government declined to do so, but censured him instead. Frere was informed bluntly that neither he nor Chelmsford had ‘authority either to accept a cession of territory nor to proclaim the Queen’s sovereignty over any part of the country [Zululand].’

  And what of the Zulus? Dabulamanzi returned to oNdini under a cloud. He had disobeyed orders by moving against Rorke’s Drift and had only succeeded in squandering the lives of many of his men. Cetshwayo was not impressed and Dabulamanzi soon left oNdini in disgrace. The king was also angered by the failure of many warriors to make their way back to oNdini for purification ceremonies. Instead, they had returned to their homes. Above all, however, he was shocked by the losses that had been inflicted on his army at Isandlwana and Rorke’s Drift: ‘An assegai has been thrust into the belly of the nation,’ he lamented, ‘there are not enough tears to mourn the dead.’

  Worse was to come. Britain was determined to avenge Isandlwana.

  6. ‘WE ARE THE BOYS FROM ISANDLWANA!’

  ‘What have I done? I want peace—I ask for peace.’ Cetshwayo kaMpande

  When the main Zulu army left Nodwengu on 17 January, it was accompanied by a smaller and qualitatively inferior force charged by Cetshwayo with countering the threat posed by Colonel Pearson’s No. 1 Column of 4,750 officers and men in the southeast. In command was Godide kaNdlela, a 70-year-old whose younger brother Mavumengwana was joint commander of the main impi.

  On the 18th, Godide and his command separated from the warriors en route to Isandlwana and headed off towards Pearson’s force. The best fighting material in Godide’s impi consisted of the bulk of the uMxhapho regiment who were in the prime of life and some of whose colleagues were with the main army. In contrast, the warriors belonging to the accompanying uDlambedlu and izinGulube regiments were in their mid-50s.

  After nightfall on 21 January, the impi arrived at Gingindlovu, the royal homestead in southeast Zululand built by Cetshwayo after defeating his brother Mbuyazi in 1856. They found it a smouldering ruin. It had just been put to the torch by members of Pearson’s column which was encamped in the neighbourhood, having recently advanced from the Lower Drift of the Tugela. Hence Godide chose to ambush the British the following day on suitable ground just to the north.

  Colonel Pearson had crossed into Zululand following the expiry of Frere’s ultimatum and had established a fort called Fort Tenedos on the north bank of the Tugela. This was to complement one that had already been erected on the Natal side and which bore the name of the column’s commander.

  Pearson had orders to establish a base at an abandoned Norwegian mission station at Eshowe some 37 miles into Zululand, prior to advancing on oNdini. He decided to split his force into two mutually supporting divisions and set off early on 18 January at the head of the first division, which was 2,400 strong and included five companies of his own battali
on, the 2/3rd Buffs. The division’s armament included two 7-pounders, rockets and a Gatling gun belonging to the Naval Brigade. Lieutenant-Colonel Welman of the 99th was to bring on the second division.

  Early on the 22nd, Pearson resumed his march and paused for breakfast at about 8am, after crossing the Nyezane River with the head of his division. He halted in an area of flat scrubland just to the north of the Nyezane. To his front was a steep ridge, with three spurs running down towards the river, divided by gullies with thick growth. The track climbed the central spur, the lowest, passing a prominent knoll on the way and a small homestead on the left, near the crest.

  However, Godide and his men were concealed on the ridge, intent on ambushing and encircling the British as they ascended the central spur. Since separating from the main impi, Godide had been augmented by several contingents of local warriors and his force now probably numbered between 4,000 and 6,000 men.

  Things did not go to plan. Pearson soon caught sight of a number of Zulu scouts ahead and sent a company of NNC to disperse them. But as the NNC were moving up Wombane, the easternmost of the spurs flanking the track, Zulus suddenly leaped to their feet, shouted ‘uSuthu!’, opened fire and charged, thereby routing the NNC.

  Pearson rapidly responded by sending forward the men at the head of his division, two companies of the 2/3rd Buffs and two companies of the Naval Brigade, with two 7-pounders and a rocket tube, to occupy the knoll near the road. The warriors streaming down Wombane thus came under heavy flanking fire. Nevertheless, they pressed on and proceeded to swing to their right, bravely attempting to close, dashing from bush to bush, skirmishing in extended order. Two further companies of the Buffs formed up on the right of the road and advanced determinedly against them. The Buffs were soon supported by other units (including men rushed up by Welman) and succeeded in repulsing the left horn, which nonetheless fell back in an orderly manner, only to be severely mauled when on the open hillside by fire from the knoll and from a Gatling gun which had been manhandled up on to the central spur from the rear.