During the delay, Chelmsford began working on another post, Fort Marshall, to the south at Siphezi, on the main track to oNdini. Like Fort Newdigate, the installation was garrisoned by two companies of the 21st. For his part, Buller ranged far and wide, successfully clashing with Zulu forces, destroying homesteads and plundering livestock.
On 17 June the fresh supplies and their escort finally arrived. By this date Chelmsford had just learned that the British government had sent General Sir Garnet Wolseley, a highly experienced and respected 46-year-old, to South Africa to supersede him. The news gave added urgency to the campaign. Chelmsford had no intention of sitting back and allowing Wolseley to cover himself in glory.
On the 18th, Chelmsford pressed on past Fort Marshall, and reached the Babanango Heights the following day, watched by bodies of Zulu warriors, one of which skirmished with a cavalry detachment in the neighbourhood. On the heights, another post, Fort Evelyn, was built on 23-24 June and garrisoned by two companies of the 58th. Finally, on 27 June, after a painfully slow advance from Koppie Alleen, Chelmsford reached the Mthonjaneni Heights overlooking oNdini, sixteen miles away in the Mahlabathini Plain below. En route from Babanango, Wood had destroyed six amakhanda in the emaKhosini Valley on the right bank of the White Mfolozi, a sacred spot for the Zulus as it was the burial ground of Cetshwayo’s forebears.
And what of Crealock? On 19 June he had begun advancing from the Nyezane. His progress was likewise slow, partly due to a shortage of wagons. No opposition of any consequence was encountered and it was clear that much of the region’s manpower had made its way to oNdini, where Cetshwayo’s forces were once again assembling. After reaching the Umlalazi River, the First Division constructed Fort Napoleon on 25-26 June. Patrols penetrated further, aggressively scouring the countryside towards the Mhlatuze, killing, destroying and plundering, sorties that continued into July, again encountering little or no resistance.
Cetshwayo, as has been noted, had by now begun mustering his forces. Morale was low, but the call to arms was generally obeyed—a rumour that the British would castrate Zulu men and take their wives presumably instilled some waverers with a will to fight—and by the third week of June the bulk of the Zulu army had assembled on the Mahlabathini Plain.
The king was still anxious to avoid further bloodshed, however, especially given increasing signs of disaffection with the war among sections of his people; disaffection that had led to defections to the British camp, especially in the southeast of his kingdom. The three peace envoys mentioned above were therefore sent back to Chelmsford. They were brought before the general on 27 June on the Mthonjaneni Heights, bearing a letter from their sovereign, 150 of the oxen captured at Isandlwana, and two great elephant tusks. But Cetshwayo was still not prepared to behave in an abject manner and submit to all Chelmsford’s terms, which included a demand that at least 10,000 cattle or 20,000 sheep should be surrendered. Consequently, although Chelmsford agreed to a brief delay in crossing the White Mfolozi to give Cetshwayo a last chance to comply, he knew that such compliance was well-nigh impossible.
At 8.45am on 30 June, Chelmsford advanced from the Mthonjaneni Heights down towards the White Mfolozi, leaving a garrison (partly comprising two companies of the reformed 1/24th) to hold defences that had been prepared on the heights, and in which all the tents and the majority of the supplies were placed. He took approximately 5,500 men, each of whom was carrying rations for ten days, a blanket, waterproof sheet and greatcoat. Cavalry reconnoitring ahead soon sighted three large bodies of Zulus heading towards the river, no doubt intent on preventing the British from crossing.
However, the British found the going difficult and thus halted at around 3.30pm at the foot of Mthonjaneni, by which time Chelmsford had received further envoys from Cetshwayo. They brought with them the sword taken from the late Prince Imperial and word that Cetshwayo was prepared to hand over more cattle and two 7-pounders taken at Isandlwana. Chelmsford seemed more amenable than hitherto. For instance, he declared that in lieu of a previous condition, the surrender of one of Cetshwayo’s regiments, he would accept 1,000 rifles captured at Isandlwana. Moreover, he said that Cetshwayo had until noon on 3 July to comply and that the British would stay on their side of the White Mfolozi until that hour. But as John Laband comments:
This apparent magnanimity had a purpose . . . . The difficult terrain at the foot of Mthonjaneni made it almost impossible for cavalry to operate, and Chelmsford was naturally concerned that the Zulu might attempt to attack his force while it was strung out on the line of march. Continuing diplomatic exchanges would shield the British until they were more favourably placed.
On 1 July, Chelmsford resumed his advance. He did so at 7.30am, with Buller and his mounted men of the Flying Column to the fore. Buller reached a drift across the White Mfolozi just before 11am, and from a vantage point on a small kopje proceeded to watch Zulu forces drilling on the plain beyond and being doctored for the impending conflict.
As it appeared that the Zulus were not intent on launching an attack that day, the Flying Column began forming a laager less than a mile from the drift. But around 1pm, while work was still in progress, and as the wagons of the Second Division were still on the move, a sudden Zulu movement towards the river occurred, causing consternation among the British, particularly among the less experienced men of the Second Division. In due course, though, the alarm abated. Instead of trying to exploit the evident British disarray, the Zulus began retiring to their quarters later that aftemoon.
During the course of the following morning, the Second Division closed up with the Flying Column and likewise laagered. Once again Zulus advanced in strength towards the river before withdrawing, and did the same on the 3rd, before heading off in the direction of oNdini.
On 2 July, Cetshwayo made his final gesture of peace by ordering a herd of a hundred or more of the royal white oxen to be taken to the British camp. However, the proud young warriors of the uMcijo regiment prevented them from being driven to their destination. Other amabutho were likewise militant. Hence on that same day, Cetshwayo reluctantly issued instructions for battle. No attack was to be launched against the British when they were stationary (and thus no doubt entrenched) and if the Zulus did manage to defeat the enemy in the open, they were not to pursue the British across the White Mfolozi, given the defences on the far bank.
It was also on 2 July that Chelmsford received a telegram from Wolseley, who had landed at Durban on 28 June and was currently endeavouring to join Crealock. The telegram, sent on the 30th, instructed Chelmsford: ‘Concentrate your force immediately and keep it concentrated. Undertake no serious operations with detached bodies of troops. Acknowledge receipt of this message at once and flash back your latest moves.’ But Chelmsford was now only five miles from Cetshwayo’s principal homestead and had no intention of heeding Wolseley’s order to desist from serious operations.
At about 1pm, on 3 July, following the expiry of the time Chelmsford had granted Cetshwayo to comply with his conditions, Buller crossed the White Mfolozi with a strong force of mounted men of the Flying Column to reconnoitre ahead and find a suitable location for battle. He moved northeast over the Mahlabathini Plain and approached a stream called the Mbilane, unaware that he had been lured on by Zulus (some of whom were driving a large flock of goats) charged with this very task. Finally, in the vicinity of the stream, Buller sensed a trap and called upon his men to halt. He was right. Some 4,000 warriors, many of them uMxhapho, emerged from the long grass and opened fire, before charging the troops. Buller and his men began to retreat and found their escape route threatened by other Zulus closing in on both flanks, but managed to make it back across the White Mfolozi, having lost only three men, partly owing to support from other mounted troops. But it had been a close run thing.
That evening, Chelmsford told his subordinates that he planned to advance at dawn and would then form his infantry into a large square that, he hoped, the Zulus
would assault. No laager or entrenchments would be used. The Zulus would be shown that a British square ‘could beat them fairly in the open.’ At around 11pm on this bitterly cold night, the British heard the unnerving sound of massed singing and dancing passing over the plain as the Zulus prepared for the rigours of battle. The Zulus did not intend to contest the crossing of the White Mfolozi. They would let the British on to the Mhalabathini Plain and destroy them in the open.
The Battle of Ulundi
The 4,166 European and 958 black soldiers in the British camp stirred early on the morning of Friday, 4 July, rising at 3.45am under bright moonlight. At 6am, Buller’s mounted irregulars crossed the drift and took up a position on a bluff overlooking the crossing. They were then followed over the river by the remainder of the force minus some 529 white troops (mostly members of the 1/24th) and just under a hundred blacks who were to hold the camp: and the fact that most of the wagons were also left behind led the Zulus to conclude that Chelmsford had played well and truly into their hands.
By 7.30am, the column had cleared the rough terrain along the riverside and adopted a rectangular formation. Its front face was manned by five companies of the 80th, its rear face by two companies of the 94th and two of the 2/21st, and the longer side faces by eight companies of the 90th and four of the 94th (on the left), and eight companies of the 1/13th and four of the 58th (on the right). Two Gatlings were in the centre of the front face, while the artillery, consisting of twelve guns, was deployed in the corners and along the sides of the formation.
Within the ‘square’ were the headquarters staff, the balance of No. 5 Company, RE, now commanded by Chard, the veteran of Rorke’s Drift, the 2nd NNC, 50 wagons and mule carts carrying reserve ammunition, as well as a number of hospital wagons. All the mounted men were outside the square.
Shortly before 8am, the advance northeast across the plain began, to the sound of the band of the 1/13th and screened by Buller’s men. Soon thereafter, while approaching Nodwengu, the British caught sight of Zulus gathering in numbers.
At approximately 8.30am, Chelmsford halted upon a low ridge with a level summit between Nodwengu and oNdini, which, the previous day, Buller had selected as the site of battle. The longest sides of the ‘square’ faced roughly north and south—oNdini was less than two miles to the southeast. The ground sloped away gently on every side of the position, providing a good field of fire.
Meanwhile, Zulus had appeared in increasing strength to the north and west, and others were then sighted to the east, emerging through mist. By about 8.20am, a vast array of warriors could be seen in a horseshoe formation, the majority of them surrounding the north, east and southern sides of the square, while others moved to complete the encirclement. The official British estimate put the number of Zulus at 20,000; and since, according to Cetshwayo, all his regiments were represented in the army, which he believed was comparable in strength to that at Isandlwana, this total, possibly including some Tsonga, seems more or less correct.
Cetshwayo was not present. He had travelled east from oNdini the previous evening to another of his residences. On the other hand, Mnyamana, Cetshwayo’s prime minister, may have been on the scene. The king’s favourite brother, Ziwedu kaMpande, was certainly there and watched the battle from a hill, accompanied by a number of Cetshwayo’s other brothers and several great chiefs.
To goad the Zulus into attacking prematurely, Buller’s irregular cavalry were sent to draw them into effective range. On the other hand, the regular cavalry of the Second Brigade, the 17th Lancers and a squadron of dragoons, entered the rear of the square. Hence shortly after the British square ceased advancing, Buller’s men became engaged in skirmishing with the oncoming Zulus on three sides of the position, firing and falling back before the amabutho. While this was occurring, Shepstone’s Horse, attached to the Second Division, opened fire at a range of about 300 yards from outside the left rear of the square against the uMcijo, who were moving towards them in a great column. They then withdrew into the square—the rear face wheeled outwards to let them do so—and soon all the irregular horsemen were likewise within the position, a gap having been made for them.
At 8.45am, the 9-pounders opened up, firing shrapnel over the heads of the retiring mounted men at the Zulus who were well within range, and within a short period the guns on all sides of the formation were in action. At this stage they were located just outside the square. However, because the Zulus were in skirmishing order, little punishment was inflicted—they kept on coming. The two Gatlings then opened fire, as did the infantry, who were in four ranks—the front two kneeling—discharging volleys. The right face of the square (the southernmost) was the first to be fully engaged, but at 8.50am fire from the position became general.
Despite the withering hail of bullets, the foremost Zulus bravely attempted to charge home, shouting ‘uSuthu!’ as they did so. But their ranks were decimated. The assault was checked when the warriors were still generally 70 yards or more from the square. On the other hand, when some 395 yards or so from the right face of the British formation and subjected to medium-range fire, advancing warriors veered left up a depression running along the rear of the square, which gave them complete cover to within approximately 150 yards of the right rear corner of the British formation.
Some 2,000 to 3,000 warriors, mostly members of the iNgobamakhosi and uVe, massed in the depression before surging forward, some of them coming as close as nine paces from the square. In general, though, the onslaught was checked within 30 yards of the corner, as the British in this sector discharged ‘a solid and well directed’ weight of fire—including seven rounds of case-shot by the 9-pounders of N/6 Battery. A British officer, Captain Slade, later admitted in a letter to his mother that the gallant endeavours of the Zulus to reach the square were something to be marvelled at. The Zulu dead, recalled a corporal of the 58th, ‘fell as though they had been tipped out of carts.’
The uMcijo, in contrast, did not subject the left rear corner of the British square to anything like as much pressure. Most of them halted on a ridge when still some almost 300 yards from the enemy.
In marked contrast, the assault against the British left face was undertaken with such determination that the soldiers expected hand-to-hand fighting to occur and so fixed bayonets. But here, too, as elsewhere, the oncoming warriors were brought to a halt. Hence, like their thwarted colleagues, they took cover in the long grass from where many opened up with sustained and heavy return fire, albeit woefully ineffective.
Seeing that the attack had faltered, the main Zulu reserve, a few thousand strong and evidently composed of men belonging to older regiments, began heading towards the field of battle from oNdini, only to find themselves subjected to accurate shellfire by 9-pounders at the front of the square which forced them to retire. By 9.20am, a general and disorderly withdrawal had commenced. Five minutes later, Chelmsford turned to the commander of the 17th Lancers, Colonel Drury-Lowe, and said, ‘Go at them, Lowe!’ Five troops of the 17th Lancers and twenty-four men of the King’s Dragoon Guards under Captain Brewster therefore rode out through an opening made for them, briefly dressed their ranks to the rear of the square, and charged, the Lancers yelling ‘Death! Death!’
They moved against groups of warriors still either prepared to resist and others intent on escape. Some fleeing Zulus turned to fight, but the majority dashed towards the overlooking hills as fast as they could. The cavalry were soon assisted by the mounted men of the Flying Column, and the pursuit was conducted as far as the hills, where the Zulus began rallying on ground unsuitable for horses to operate.
Slaughtering wounded Zulus still on the plain, or warriors hiding on it, such as in the long grass, ensued. This was done with bloodthirsty efficiency, especially by the Natal Native Horse and the NNC, and continued for hours after the battle had ended. Most of the Zulus who had managed to make good their escape retreated over the hills to the north.
Chelms
ford’s casualties at Ulundi, as the battle became known to the British, were light: two officers and ten men killed, nineteen officers wounded (one of whom later died) and sixty-nine men wounded. Inevitably, Zulu losses were much higher. Although disputed, for there was no body-count of the dead following the battle, the official estimate of ‘not less than 1,500’ seems reasonable.
It is sometimes said that the Zulu assault at Ulundi lacked commitment. Colonel Evelyn Wood, for instance, declared in his memoirs that he ‘could not believe [the Zulus] would make so half-hearted an attack.’ Perhaps he was being somewhat disingenuous, wishing to play down Chelmsford’s victory whilst magnifying his own at Khambula; but other veterans of previous battles expressed comparable sentiments, as did some Zulus. For example, in a book by Charles Norris-Newman (published in 1880), Mehlokazulu kaSihayo is quoted as saying that the Zulus did not fight with ‘the same spirit’ at Ulundi as hitherto ‘because [they] were . . . frightened.’
That their previous experiences at Khambula and elsewhere had shaken Zulus morale, and made many of them reluctant to face British firepower again, need not be doubted. Nevertheless, many of Cetshwayo’s warriors fought with great bravery. Colonel W. A. Dunne, for example, while noting that the Zulus were no longer willing to fight with reckless daring, commented that their courage was conspicuous. In short, as Laband comments:
There is overwhelming evidence to show that in the initial stages of the battle, before the hopelessness of their task overcame them, the Zulu came on with enormous pluck . . . . Indeed, many of the British were simply astonished at the ‘amazing courage’ of the Zulu, who repeatedly and unflinchingly attempted to charge through the withering fire.
Some question whether the British fire was indeed withering. The infantry fired approximately 35,000 rounds at Ulundi, and rounds fired were calculated at between 6.4 and 7 per infantryman, depending on his unit. Hence some contend that the rate of fire was low, proving that the Zulus were easily repelled. But the rate was in fact slightly higher than it had been at Gingindlovu (where the average number of shots fired per regular soldier was 6.2); and as Colonel Callwell noted in his official manual on the conduct of ‘small wars’, such as the Zulu War, in a typical battle, under ten rounds per man was the norm.
The Zulus and Matabele: Warrior Nations Page 16