Do the staff think we are going to meet an army of schoolgirls? Why in the name of all that is holy do we not laager?
Captain Duncombe to Commandant Hamilton Browne (A Lost Legionary in South Africa)
Even before dawn, news from his scouts was reaching Chief Ntshingwayo commanding the Zulu army that Dartnell's column was some twelve miles from Isandlwana and still spread out among the hills between Isipezi and Mangeni. Of even greater importance were the Zulu scouts' reports that during the night another large column had departed the British camp and was at that very moment marching to support Dartnell's scattered force. Chelmsford's decision had halved the size of the Isandlwana camp's defenders; the Zulu decoy had succeeded beyond Ntshingwayo's expectations.
One can only imagine Ntshingwayo's astonishment when, before dawn on the 22nd, Chelmsford led five companies of the 2/24th, four guns and most of the remaining mounted men to rendezvous with Dartnell at the base of the bare shoulder of Hlazakazi, some ten miles beyond the camp, thus dividing his forces still further. The Zulu commanders soon realised that the camp was almost entirely deprived of its most formidable weapon, the mounted troops, and half of its infantry and artillery. No wonder that a group of Zulu chiefs was moved to say, after the battle, ‘You gave us the battle that day … for you dispersed your army in small parties all over the country’. (1)
In camp at Isandlwana
During that night at Isandlwana, Pulleine and the men of the 1/24th had heard Chelmsford's column march out of camp. Pulleine, in compliance with Chelmsford's orders to defend the camp, then dispatched the infantry to form a line extending for almost a mile approximately 1,000 yards to the left front of the camp. Further positions were taken up at dawn by several companies of the Natal Native Contingent; these covered the base and shoulder of the Nqutu Plateau to the north of the camp, while a mounted patrol watched the top of the plateau itself.
Pulleine and his officers were totally unaware of their looming predicament; their camp was now highly vulnerable to the unseen massed Zulu army hidden on their flank only five miles distant. The British were now unwittingly spread over a vast area, from Rorke's Drift to Isipezi and from the Ngwebeni Valley to Mangeni; they were in the wrong place and covering an unmanageable 200 square miles.
In camp, normal activities proceeded in a soldierly fashion; the bugle call for breakfast was sounded at 7 am – but then a number of disquieting events occurred. Unexpectedly, a group of Zulus was observed on the rim of the plateau overlooking the camp about a mile to the north. Unknown to Pulleine and the British, this group watching them consisted of a number of senior chiefs completing their pre-battle reconnaissance. The Zulu commander, Ntshingwayo, now fully appreciated that the British were in unwitting disarray; his decoys were still confusing both Dartnell and Chelmsford ten miles to the east beyond the camp, while at the same time the remaining Zulu forces were fast approaching from Isipezi and would soon join the main advance on Isandlwana camp.
At 7.30 am Lieutenant Vereker brought Pulleine the very first report from the plateau, confirming that a patrol had observed a large force of Zulus advancing towards the camp. Lieutenant Hillier, Lonsdale's NNC, wrote:
At half past seven a.m. Lt. Veriker [sic] of the NNC who was on picquet duty with Captain Barry rode into camp and reported to Colonel Pulleine that the Zulus were advancing on the camp in large numbers. (2)
This early report corroborated a number of eye-witness reports received by Pulleine that, regardless of British scouts and outposts on the plateau, Zulus were already deploying and advancing towards the camp. Within minutes, a large body of Zulus were seen on the hills to the front left of camp, so Pulleine ordered the artillery out on to the front line.
A mixture of uncertainty and excitement was now spreading throughout the camp at Isandlwana. The bugler sounded the ‘Stand To’, the camp breakfast was abandoned and the troops collected themselves to meet the foe. Within the hour, another patrol reported large bodies of Zulus moving north-west across the plateau; groups of Zulus were again seen on the plateau ridge overlooking the camp. The intermittent sound of distant firing was heard, but due to its re-echoing among the hills it was impossible to pinpoint its exact location. The Zulus watching the camp then disappeared. At this stage, Pulleine had no idea what was happening; he knew the Zulus should not have been on the plateau to the north since they were supposed to be in the east being engaged by Chelmsford's attacking force.
Trooper Barker of the Natal Carbineers, one of the colonials earlier sent out at 4 am to patrol the Nqutu Plateau, later wrote of events that occurred about 7 am:
Hawkins, my bosom friend, and myself were posted on a hill to the extreme front, quite six miles from the camp, and arrived on the hill about sunrise. After being posted about a quarter of an hour we noticed a lot of mounted men in the distance and on their coming nearer we saw that they were trying to surround us … we discovered they were Zulus. We retired to Lieut. Scott [at Conical Hill] about two miles nearer the camp and informed him of what we had seen, and he decided to come back with us but before we had gone far we saw Zulus on the hill we had just left and others advancing from the left flank near where two other videttes [sic], Whitelaw and another had been obliged to retire from. Whitelaw reported a large army advancing, ‘thousands’ I remember him distinctly saying … this would be about eight a.m. He returned with a message to Lieut. Scott that we were to watch the enemy carefully and send back reports of their movements. Shortly afterwards, numbers of Zulus being seen on all the hills to the left and front, Trooper Swift and another were sent back to report. The Zulus then remained on the hills, and about two hundred of them advanced to within three hundred yards of us, but on our advancing they retired out of sight, and a few of us went up this hill where the Zulus had disappeared, and on a farther hill, at about six hundred yards' distance, we saw a large army sitting down. We returned to Lieut. Scott, who was then about three miles from camp, and reported back what we had seen. Hawkins and I were then sent back to camp to report a large army to the left front of camp. (3)
With the message delivered to a camp staff officer (Lieutenant Coghill), Barker and Hawkins returned to Lieutenant Scott's position and saw ‘masses of Zulus on all the hills’. (4) It was just before 7.30 am when Whitelaw galloped back to the camp and reported this same sighting to Lieutenant Coghill, who sent him back with orders to monitor the advancing Zulus – still unseen from Isandlwana camp. Lieutenant Ardendorff, an Afrikaner of Scandinavian descent, was also dispatched to try to get a detailed report from the scouts, but soon returned in such a state that his report about the enemy, in broken English, was incoherent.
Such accounts confirm that for at least an hour Zulus had been seen both on the ridge from the camp and by scouts on the plateau, moving deliberately and in considerable numbers towards the camp. The Zulu advance on Isandlwana was clearly well coordinated. Pulleine was obviously confused by the accounts and could not comprehend the possibility that the Zulus were now massing no more than four miles from his position; he sent a second more urgent report to Chelmsford:
8.5 a.m. Staff Officer – report just come in that the Zulus are advancing in force from the left front of the camp. H.B. Pulleine.
In the midst of this uncertainty, Lieutenant Chard arrived at the camp from Rorke's Drift to ascertain his orders and find some breakfast. There being no orders, he took breakfast and saw through binoculars the gathering Zulus watching the camp from the plateau ridge. The Zulus began to move towards the western end of the ridge, which made Chard believe they might make for Rorke's Drift. He then set off to return to his men, who were manning the river ponts at Rorke's Drift. On his way back he met Colonel Durnford and appraised him of the situation. Durnford was making his way from Rorke's Drift to Isandlwana and, on hearing Chard's account, set off with 500 mounted troops for the camp, with orders for his main column to follow at best speed.
Curling noted events as they unfurled that morning:
About 7.30 a.m … a large body of Zulus being seen on the hills to the left front of the camp, we were ordered to turn out at once, and were formed up in front of the 2nd Battalion 24th Regiment camp, where we remained until 11 o'clock when we returned to camp with orders to remain harnessed and ready to turn out at a minute's notice. The Zulus did not come up within range and we did not come into action. The infantry also remained in column of coys [companies]. Col. Durnford arrived about 10 a.m. with Basutos and the rocket battery; he left about 11 o'clock with these troops, in the direction of the hills where we had seen the enemy. (5)
Out on the plain with Chelmsford
As dawn spread across the plain, Chelmsford and over half the strength of the Centre Column had passed the Hlazakazi hills and were well on their way towards joining up with Dartnell in the region of the Magogo hills. Chelmsford was fully anticipating engaging the main Zulu army. Instead he was to confront an elusive enemy decoy that would repeatedly appear and disappear among the surrounding hills, drawing Chelmsford's force into a thankless chase that would separate and exhaust his weary men as the unbearably hot day wore on. Now ten miles beyond the imperilled camp, Chelmsford was becoming thoroughly irritated by the confusing reports reaching him of Zulus advancing and then retreating. Lieutenant Milne later wrote two accounts to his superior, Commodore Sullivan RN:
1. We rode on quickly and at 6 a.m. had arrived at the ground taken up by Major Dartnell. The enemy had retired from their former position and was not in sight. No patrols had been sent out by Major Dartnell, so in what direction they had gone was unknown.
2. No doubt the force we were after on Wednesday [the 22nd] was a blind as we could never get near them, they kept edging away drawing us further from the camp. (6)
Lieutenant Mainwaring wrote, after the battle:
The mounted infantry reported the Zulus to be retiring from hill-top to hill-top, and it must have been their plan to draw us away from the camp.
At 8.30 am Chelmsford realised that he was not about to engage the main Zulu army, and breakfasted with his staff officers near Magogo hill. He ordered Commandant George Hamilton-Browne of the 3rd Natal Native Contingent to report to him. (7) The order Hamilton-Browne received is recorded in his book published over thirty years later:
Commandant Browne, I want you to return at once to camp [with your men] and assist Colonel Pulleine to strike camp and come on here. (8)
Hamilton-Browne then met Colonel Glyn and he later recalled their interesting conversation:
Colonel Glyn rode over to me and drawing me aside said,“In God's name Maorie, what are you doing here?” I answered him with a question, “In God's name Sir what are you doing here?” He shook his head and replied, “I am not in command”. And fine old soldier as he was, I could see he was much disturbed. (9)
Hamilton-Browne's men had ten miles to march back to Isandlwana, which, over rough terrain and in the heat of summer, would take three to four hours.
The Natal Witness later commented on the Zulu deception:
Although they showed themselves in very considerable form [numbers] along all the hill tops, they kept retiring according to what, as after events taught us, must have been their conceived plan. The general, however, did not, of course, at this time, imagine that the Zulus were carrying out a concerted scheme, but thought they were probably falling back on their supports … It was the opinion of all those who understand the natives and their method of fighting that this small body of Zulus who paraded themselves so openly had certainly an army behind them which was only awaiting the proper moment to come into action. (10)
The ever prescient newspaper reporter accompanying Chelmsford, Norris-Newman, wrote in his book In Zululand with the British (1880):
The idea did not seem to have occurred to anyone that the enemy were carrying out a pre-constructed plan.
The battle for Isandlwana
Back at Isandlwana, Pulleine was still contemplating the various reports of Zulus advancing on the camp, but little could be heard and nothing could be seen of the Zulus due to the location of Pulleine's headquarters tent. Furthermore, Pulleine had not realised that, in order to cover the extensive dead ground before the camp, his front-line troops had crept forward out of sight over the lip of the plain, which would shortly leave him ‘battlefield-blind’.
During a formal archaeological survey of the Isandlwana battlefield in the summer of 2000 by Glasgow University and the South African authorities, it was discovered that the British front line was 200 yards further from the camp than had previously been supposed, a discovery based on the quantity of spent ammunition cases and ammunition box straps found along the new position. This position confirms that the front line was completely out of sight of both Pulleine and the main camp and was covering the dead ground to its front. No such evidence had been found where the line had previously been thought to be situated.
Pulleine organised the remaining six NNC companies still in the camp to be ready and await orders. At about 10.30 am Colonel Durnford arrived at the camp with 500 mounted men of the No. 2 Column. Durnford was a Royal Engineers officer with many years' experience in South Africa; his orders from Chelmsford, received early that morning, were ambiguous:
You are to march to this camp at once with all the force you have with you of No.2 Column. Major Bengough's battalion is to move to Rorke's Drift as ordered yesterday. 2/24th, Artillery and mounted men with the General and Colonel Glyn move off at once to attack a Zulu force about 10 miles distant. (11)
Much comment has been made by historians that Durnford was senior in service to Pulleine. Their presumption is that command of the camp naturally devolved upon Durnford, thus relieving Pulleine of overall responsibility, for which Pulleine would have been grateful. The facts are different: Durnford was never ordered to ‘take command of the camp’, he was the Commander of the second column and no orders were given to merge the two columns. Durnford nevertheless met with Pulleine in his headquarters tent to discuss the sightings of the Zulus, and a brief discussion ensued after which Durnford detailed patrols of his men to ride to the plateau and ascertain what was happening. One patrol was lead by Captain Shepstone of the NNH. Lieutenant Cochrane accompanied Durnford and on arrival at Isandlwana he wrote that a number of Zulus had been seen since an early hour on the top of the adjacent hills, and that an attack was expected. (See Appendix B for Cochrane's full account). Having received a note from another patrol that Zulus were moving east (indeed, according to Lieutenant Curling's evidence to the Court of Inquiry, they could now be seen from the camp), Durnford concluded that a large enemy force was deploying along the plateau, possibly to drive a wedge between Chelmsford's force and Isandlwana camp. Pulleine no doubt accepted Durnford's calm analysis with some relief and gave the order for his men to ‘Stand Down’ but to keep on their accoutrements. Preparations then went ahead for the camp move. Durnford took his force to intercept this Zulu threat, departing the camp at, according to Curling, about 11 am.
Out on the firing line, Lieutenant Charlie Pope 2/24th somehow managed to scribble a diary line. Pope, by direct personal observation, provided confirmatory evidence that a large Zulu force had been sighted. Furthermore, the deployment was taking place prior to Durnford's arrival. This report is a valuable, and completely uncorrupted corroboration. It reads:
Alarm 3 Columns Zulus and mounted men on hill E. Turn Out 7,000 (!!!) more E.N.E., 4000 of whom went around Lion's Kop.(Isandlwana Hill) Durnford's Basutos arrive and pursue. (12)
Meanwhile, leading his patrols eastwards along the top of the plateau, Shepstone could see scattered Zulu impis, probably the Zulu advance guard. Lieutenant Charlie Raw was one of Shepstone's officers; when Raw's Basuto riders came across the Zulu army, the Zulus had already advanced some two miles from the Ngwebeni Valley. Historically, Raw has been credited with finding the Zulu army sitting quietly in the Ngwebeni Valley, but this is story tellers' mythology and cannot be correct, unless all the other observations of massing Zulus are untrue. If these other observations are correct, the Zulus had been advancing towards Isandlwana for at least two hours before Raw, commanding two troops of the NNH, even arrived at Isandlwana camp with Durnford.
Raw departed Isandlwana camp at about 11 am. Once on the plateau, Raw and his men came across a herd of cattle which they followed over rising ground. From here they had seen the Zulu army about a mile off, advancing in line and extending towards its left. Raw's report is unambiguous in the description of the contact area and distance; it is not the Ngwebeni Valley. Raw's report, interestingly ignored by the official enquiry, reads:
We left the camp proceeding over the hills [Nqutu Plateau], Captain George Shepstone going with us. The enemy in small groups retiring before us for some time, drawing us on for four or five miles from the camp where they turned and fell upon us, the whole army showing itself from behind a hill in front of where they had evidently been waiting. (13)
After the war, it took a professional Victorian historian, Professor Coupland, to deduce what Raw saw. He wrote:
The Basutos [Raw's mounted men] climbed the plateau and spread out over it. No Zulu were seen at first, only a herd of cattle. The Basutos rode on to round it up. Presently they came to the brink of a valley, and saw, about a mile off, what they had never dreamed of seeing. Thousands of Zulu were gathered there. Most of them were sitting on the ground, taking their ease. One body was moving westwards, probably taking up position to encircle the north flank of the camp at the appointed time. (14)
From an examination of available military maps, the valley was between Ithusi and Mabaso hills, and not that of the Ngwebeni stream. Mr Hamar, the commissariat officer riding with Shepstone, later wrote:
After going some little way, we tried to capture some cattle. They disappeared over a ridge and on coming up, we saw the Zulus, like ants in front of us, in perfect order and as quiet as mice, and stretched across in an even line. We estimated those we saw at 12,000. (15)
Shepstone rode to warn Pulleine and reported that the advancing Zulus had been sighted some three miles away. To experienced officers who had served in the previous Cape skirmishes, large forces of natives were not necessarily considered to be dangerous, but the Zulu numbers had alarmed Shepstone. Captain Gardner arrived moments before Shepstone and delivered a note from Chelmsford ordering the camp to be struck. Pulleine dithered, so Shepstone interjected, ‘I am not alarmist, Sir, but the Zulus are in such black masses over there, such long black lines, that you will have to give us all the assistance you can. They are now fast driving our men this way.’ (16)
Pulleine's dilemma worsened. Should he continue with Chelmsford's order to strike the camp, or call in his distant extended line to form a defensive position? After all, there were sufficient waggons in the camp to form a barricade. Norris-Newman estimated there were some 125 or more waggons available, and the men now busy packing up the camp could be ordered into the firing line. If the Zulu force proved to be only skirmishers, the initiation of normal defensive precautions, which involving dropping the tents to provide the camp defenders with a clear field of fire, would mean many hours of subsequent work to re-pack the tents in the precise manner required by Army Regulations. Pulleine was fully aware that there were still 350 tents to be struck before the camp could be moved; it was going to be a major task, as Army Regulations required one NCO and ten men to stow each tent. Pulleine knew that if he made the wrong decision he would become the laughing stock of the army. Lieutenant Henry Curling RA survived the battle, and his recently discovered letters confirm that many of Pulleine's men were not deployed on the front line as has previously been believed, but were engaged in packing the tents. He wrote:
At 7.30 I got the message to turn out at once and we got ready in about 10 minutes forming up by the 1/24th on their parade ground. The companies were very weak, no more than 50 in each and there were only 6 of them in all. We congratulated ourselves on the chance of our being attacked and hoped that our small numbers might induce the Zulus to come on. I suppose that not more than half the men left in the camp took part in its defence as it was not considered necessary and they were left in as cooks etc.
Pulleine's blind and loyal obedience to Chelmsford's last order to ‘break camp’ may have been the reason why so many soldiers continued to pack the camp even as the Zulus approached. To Pulleine, the risk of humiliation if he was proved wrong was possibly greater than the risk of defeat. He metaphorically ‘put his head in the sand’ and dithered. He ordered the ‘Fall In’ to be sounded and sent ‘F’ Company 1/24th under Captain Mostyn to support Lieutenant Cavaye. Not wishing to disobey Chelmsford's order to pack the camp, he sent a note to Major Clery for Chelmsford:
Heavy firing near to camp. Cannot move camp at present.
Captain Gardner added the following message:
Heavy firing near left of camp. Shepstone has come in for reinforcements and reports that the Basutos (Shepstone's men) are falling back. Whole camp turned out and fighting about one mile to left flank.
At 11.30 am Pulleine sent his final message to Lieutenant Cavaye, whose men Pulleine thought might get cut off from the camp by the rapidly advancing Zulus. It reads:
Cavaye,
Zulus are advancing on your right in force. Retire on camp in order. E Coy [company] will support your left. H.N. Pulleine. 11.30 am.
Durnford had not long departed when heavy firing was heard coming from the spur leading from the camp to the plateau; two companies of the 24th commanded by Lieutenants Cavaye and Mostyn and a company of the NNC had been positioned there earlier that morning. The two companies were firing at a large body of Zulus moving off the plateau out of sight of the camp behind Isandlwana. The Zulus were about 800 yards from the troops, and due to the ineffectiveness of their fire the Zulus ignored the British. This large body of Zulus turned out to be the right horn, whose intention was to seal the only route of escape from Isandlwana back to Rorke's Drift.
Lieutenant Dyson had been sent to the furthest point on the spur some 500 yards beyond his nearest support. Although isolated, his men had a good view across the valley to the Nqutu Plateau. Once the Zulus appeared in force, he and his men must have realised that their exposed position was in dire peril; although trapped, they continued to pour fire into the approaching mass of warriors. History records that they were simply overrun. As recently as 1995, several cairns were visible at this point, and belt buckles and buttons could be seen, lying exposed by heavy rain. (17)
In camp the ‘Fall In’ call was sounded for the third time. The remaining three companies of the 24th were extended 800 yards to the left and front of the camp facing both the plateau and the plain. The soldiers were positioned some three yards apart in a double line. Men of the NNC also formed a section of the line with the two 7-pound guns of the Royal Artillery between them. Curling wrote:
When we turned out again about 12, the Zulus were only showing on the left of our camp. All the time we were idle in the camp, the Zulus were surrounding us with a huge circle several miles in circumference and hidden by hills from our sight. We none of us felt the least anxious as to the result for, although they came on in immense numbers, we felt it was impossible they could force a way through us. (18)
The camp's earlier apprehension gave way to excitement; the attack was coming, and they, not Chelmsford's force, would have all the glory. In every previous battle fought by the 24th Regiment in Africa, the natives had fled when volley firing commenced; the British, however, had never fought the Zulus.
Pulleine and his camp officers could now see a massive force of Zulus pouring off the Nqutu Plateau and heading for the small conical hill one mile in front of the camp. They would shortly drive a wedge between Chelmsford and the camp. The full Zulu attack on Isandlwana had begun. Without giving any further orders, Pulleine went into his tent to write a letter. Various Zulu reports claim he was killed at the height of the battle while still writing at his desk.
The massed ranks of Zulu warriors streamed off the Nqutu Plateau then fanned out towards the over-extended British firing line protecting the camp. Meanwhile, some three miles further out on the plain, Durnford and his men began engaging the rapidly advancing Zulu left horn with controlled volley fire as, heavily outnumbered, they commenced a tactical withdrawal back towards the camp. Durnford's Rocket Battery, commanded by Major Francis Russell RA, had lagged behind Durnford due to the rough terrain. As the Zulus suddenly appeared over the hill immediately to their left, the battery managed to fire one ineffectual rocket before being overrun. Russell was mortally wounded and three gunners killed; their retainers fled, as did their pack mules. Durnford fell back, gathered up the battery's three survivors and withdrew through a gap in the Zulu attack back towards the camp, now less than one mile distant. The three survivors were able to mount spare horses and made their way back to the camp, only to find it being overwhelmed by the Zulus; they kept going and managed to escape. Captain Reginald Younghusband's ‘E’ Company was sent out from the camp towards the spur to cover the retreat of Cavaye and Mostyn's men as they withdrew under fire. Only one company would reach the temporary safety of the camp.
Meanwhile, the central body of the main Zulu force, consisting of some 15,000 warriors, rapidly advanced off the plateau to attack the thin line of British infantry. The two guns of the Royal Artillery deployed on the British left flank commenced firing. Several rounds of their case shot (shrapnel) hit home amidst the advancing Zulus causing much destruction, as confirmed by Lieutenant Higginson who later wrote that the fire ‘swept them away’. Sadly, Lieutenant Roberts NNC had managed to get a group of his men to the safety of a stone cattle kraal when a direct hit from the artillery struck their position. The Zulus quickly observed the artillery's firing procedure, directed by Major Stuart Smith and Lieutenant Curling, and as each gun was prepared for firing the Zulus threw themselves to the ground; thereafter the shells passed over the Zulus and exploded with minimum effect. Having neutralised the effect of the artillery, the Zulus prepared to charge the British infantry line either side of the guns from the relative safety of dead ground to the immediate front of the British position. To the right of the guns, the three amabutho making up the main body, the iNgobamakhosi, uKhandempemvu and uMbonambi, all began to suffer heavily from British rifle fire. The officers and NCOs in the British front line calmly controlled their men's volley fire, and the Zulu main attack halted. The soldiers reportedly laughed and joked about the drubbing they were giving the Zulus, even though they could see the advancing warriors were over half a mile deep. Captain Edward Essex, one of the five Imperial officers to survive later wrote:
I was surprised how relaxed the men in the ranks were despite the climactic tension of the battle. Loading as fast as they could and firing into the dense black masses that pressed in on them, the men were laughing and chatting, and obviously thought they were giving the Zulus an awful hammering. (19)
On the British front line, everything appeared under control and the men's spirits were high. Meanwhile, Durnford's men had been forced to withdraw by the massive Zulu left horn to a dried-up watercourse less than a mile from the camp, where they came under increasing pressure from the encircling Zulus. Durnford held the position for some fifteen minutes before observing that his men were seriously outnumbered. The Zulus began spreading around his position; he was in peril of being cut off from the camp and, worse still, his men were running out of ammunition. Durnford sent several men back to the camp with urgent requests for more ammunition and it was from the desperate actions of these men that the enduring ‘ammunition boxes’ myth was born. Durnford's men could not find their own ammunition carts and, understandably in the confusion of battle, the quartermasters supervising their own company supplies were reluctant to issue ammunition to Durnford's men. Durnford sent two of his officers, Lieutenants Henderson and Davies, to expedite the supply, but it was not forthcoming because the carbineers sent to carry the ammunition, Trooper Johnson and Bugler Jackson, had already been killed near the Nek (a shoulder joining two hills); so Durnford gave the order to begin the withdrawal back to the main camp.
Trooper Barker's eye-witness account illustrates the confusion and horror now present in the camp:
I saw the soldiers who were left in camp literally surrounded by Zulus who had evidently come in from the rear, and as soldiers and natives repassed us in confusion we retired back to our Carbineer lines [Durnford's donga – a dry river bed]. The artillery now retreated in the direction of the Nek to the right of the camp.
I mounted my horse, the Zulus now being busy all over the camp stabbing the soldiers, and made my way in the direction of the Nek in the rear of the camp. I was joined by W. Tarboton here, but being met by the Zulus we were obliged to retire back towards the camp [Durnford's donga], which was now a mass of Zulus. We then went in the direction we had seen an artillery carriage go, to the direct right of our lines, and saw the gun upset, it being immediately surrounded by Zulus. This point, from what I heard afterwards, was the only point the Zulus had not surrounded, and we two got through here. After riding for about half a mile or less, Tarboton asked me to return with him to look for his brother whom he had missed, and as I had lost my comrade Hawkins at the same time I willingly returned, but just as we got in sight of the camp, from a hill we both for the first time realised what had happened; the camp was completely surrounded and the people were being massacred by the Zulus. We were obliged to fly as Zulus were following fugitives up. (20)
This account suggests the route taken was the southern Fugitives'Trail; on their retreat towards the Nek they saw the Nek was already in Zulu possession so they retreated instead towards Durnford's donga before making off ‘to the direct right of our lines’, which strongly indicates the route south of Black's Koppie, not across the Nek from which they had just retreated. (See Wyld's 1879 map for details of the southern fugitives'route).
‘G’ Company 2/24th had been on camp guard duty that night and had not accompanied Chelmsford and their battalion to locate the Zulus. They had remained in camp to rest and were now occupying the extreme right end of the British line where they were easily checking the Zulus to their front. Their monocled officer, Lieutenant Charles Pope, saw that Durnford's men to the right were in danger of being engulfed by the Zulus' flanking advance and gave his men the order to move towards Durnford's position. It was a serious tactical mistake; Pope's advance left the British line seriously exposed to the advancing Zulus, and just as they might have reached a point where they could help stem the enemy, Durnford gave the order to retreat. Being mounted, Durnford's men quickly vacated their position and inadvertently left ‘G’ Company fatally exposed to the rapidly approaching Zulu left horn. Pope tried to hold the Zulu advance but his company was swiftly overwhelmed by the mass of several thousand charging warriors.
With the main Zulu advance stalled to the front of the main camp, the Zulu commanders on the overlooking heights of the iNyoni cliffs dispatched Chief Mkhosana kaMvundlana, a sub-commander of the Biyela, to exhort the warriors back into the attack. The Zulu chief, untouched by British bullets, strode among the prostrate warriors urging them to fight. Chief Muziwento recounted that his men were exhorted to fight with the words, ‘Never did the king give you the command “Lie down upon the ground”. His words were “Go and toss them to Maritzburg”’. (21) The uKhandempemvu rose to the attack. Chief Mkhosana was then shot dead, but he deserves to be remembered as the Zulu hero of the battle; but for Mkhosana, the Zulus attack might have faltered. In the final analysis, their attack was perfectly and courageously executed across several miles of rugged and difficult terrain; the British were powerless to meet the challenge.
As the Zulu masses closed with the British firing line, it was evident that even sustained volley fire was no longer effective. Yet, at the height of the main Zulu attack, all the 24th officers complied with their orders to hold their precarious and exposed positions even as the enemy closed with them. They would have quickly been fully aware of their vulnerability, but evidently all obeyed their orders to remain in extended line right up to the final bugle call to retreat. Just as the desperately awaited call sounded, the Zulus broke through their line. The Zulu left and right horns also completed their encirclement of the camp and, having joined up behind the British, advanced through the British camp to attack the retreating soldiers from their undefended rear. The centre companies of the 24th fought their way back towards the main camp area but began to lose men at a steady rate. They eventually reached the waggon park, where they tried to form a defensive square, assisted by the stretcher bearers who had been withdrawn from the front line by Surgeon Major Shepherd, the founder of the St John Ambulance. The two companies of 24th, positioned on the ridge to the left of the camp, had begun retreating back to the camp under pressure from the right horn. One company, commanded either by Lieutenant William Mostyn or Lieutenant Charles Cavaye, was soon overwhelmed and failed to make it back to the camp. Captain Reginald Younghusband's ‘E’ Company was forced back along the base of the cliff wall of Isandlwana until they reached a small plateau overlooking the waggon park. Having been furthest from the main Zulu attack, Younghusband had managed to keep his men together until the Zulus were about to overwhelm them. One Zulu later reported:
The soldiers gave a shout and charged down upon us. There was an induna in front of the soldiers with a long flashing sword, which he whirled round his head as he ran, they killed themselves by running down. (22)
The most likely explanation is that Younghusband's men were trying to join up with the surviving 24th, now fighting back-to-back in the waggon park.
Major Smith and Lieutenant Curling were the officers in charge of the two 7-pound guns that day, and both rode sturdy artillery horses. Smith was shot through the arm but remained with the guns; he would shortly be killed in the flight from Isandlwana, while Curling became the only officer to have continuously engaged the Zulus until the camp fell. He survived to tell a remarkable tale and described his escape in a letter home:
Of course, no wounded man was attended to, there was no time or men to spare. When we got the order to retire, we limbered up at once but were hardly in time as the Zulus were on us at once and one man was killed (stabbed) as he was mounting in a seat on the gun carriage. Most of the gunners were on foot as there was not time to mount them on the guns.
We trotted off to the camp thinking to take up another position but found it was in possession of the enemy who were killing the men as they ran out of their tents. We went right through them and out the other side, losing nearly all our gunners in doing so and one of the two sergeants. The road to Rorke's Drift that we hoped to retreat by was full of the enemy so, no way being open, we followed a crowd of natives and camp followers who were running down a ravine. The Zulus were all among them, stabbing men as they ran.
The ravine got steeper and steeper and finally the guns stuck and could get no further. In a moment the Zulus closed in and the drivers, who now alone remained, were pulled off their horses and killed. I did not see Maj. Smith at this moment but was with him a minute before.
The guns could not be spiked, there was no time to think of anything and we hoped to save the guns up to the last moment.
As soon as the guns were taken, I galloped off and made off with the crowd. How any of us escaped, I don't know; the Zulus were all around us and I saw men falling all round. We rode for about 5 miles, hotly pursued by the Zulus, when we came to a cliff overhanging the river. We had to climb down the face of the cliff and not more than half those who started from the top got to the bottom. Many fell right down, among others, Maj. Smith and the Zulus caught us here and shot us as we climbed down. I got down safely and came to the river which was very deep and swift. Numbers were swept away as they tried to cross and others shot from above.
My horse, fortunately, swam straight across, though I had three or four men hanging on his tail, stirrup leathers, etc. After crossing the river, we were in comparative safety, though many were killed afterwards who were on foot and unable to keep up. (23)
The Native Contingent on the line then broke ranks. They were ill-equipped, with only one rifle per ten men; they knew they faced certain death if they stayed, so they ran. The Zulus broke through the gap just after the call to retire on the main camp finally rang out across the battlefield. The ponderous British retreat back to camp began, but those fleeing from the firing line, hopeful of the camp's protection, found it already overrun from the rear by the Zulu right horn. While the Zulus had successfully manoeuvred and advanced their main body and left horn to attack the British, their right horn slipped unnoticed behind Isandlwana. The British only became aware of the right horn when, according to Commandant George Hamilton-Browne who watched the battle two miles from Isandlwana, they emerged in force from behind the mountain, driving the column's bellowing and terrified cattle through the waggon park and into the undefended rear of the British position. The scene in camp became a nightmare of gunfire, noise, terror, confusion and slaughter everywhere in sight; the pandemonium was further exaggerated by the lack of visibility.
British volley fire invariably reduced the visibility of the attacking Zulus to the defenders by creating a thick smokescreen, a vital factor usually overlooked by most authors. Lieutenant Wilkinson, a veteran of several Zulu War battles, subsequently made two relevant and revealing observations: firstly, ‘we followed suit, firing volleys by sections in order to prevent the smoke obscuring the enemy’ and secondly, ‘independent firing means in firing in twenty seconds, firing at nothing; and only helped our daring opponents to get close up under cover of our smoke’. (24)
An examination of some contemporary pictures of the battle, often painted from descriptions given by actual combatants, clearly reveals palls of smoke on various Zulu War battlefields. This effect can be seen in, amongst others, C.E. Fripp's Isandlwana, De Neuville's Rorke's Drift, Lieutenant Evelyn's two sketches of Nyezane, Crealock's Final Repulse [of Gingindlovu], Orlando Norie's watercolour of Kambula and the equally famous Square at Ulund in the Illustrated London News .
The original Treatise on the British Martini-Henry reveals no reference to any awareness of smoke by the British, although there are numerous references to the many major and minor mechanical difficulties which beset the development of both the weapon and its black powder cartridges. However, the ‘smokescreen scenario’ must not be overlooked, especially as the battlefield of Isandlwana sits in a wide bowl ringed by hills which, on a hot day, can be airless and still. It is easy to imagine the scene on the day of the British disaster; volley fire would soon have created a thick hanging smokescreen between the British line and the advancing Zulus. It could also account for the relatively small number of Zulu casualties, not only at Isandlwana but also at Rorke's Drift and subsequently through to the final battle at Ulundi. Two further references are relevant: firstly, Private George Mossop wrote perceptively of volley fire:
We were armed with Martini-Henry rifles charged with black powder, and each shot belched out a cloud of smoke; it became so dense that we were almost choked by it – and simply fired blindly into it. There was one continuous roar from cannon, rifles and the voices of men on both sides shouting. The smoke blotted out all view. It made every man feel that all he could do was to shoot immediately in front of him – and not concern himself with what was taking place elsewhere. (25)
Secondly, the problem of smoke is supported by an item in a contemporary army instruction manual: the Appendix to Field Exercises: Rifle and Carbine Exercises and Musketry Instructions issued by Horse Guards, July 1879. ‘In firing volleys by sections it is well to commence from the section on the leeward flank, in order that the smoke may not inconvenience the remainder.’ The British line at Isandlwana may well have fought and then withdrawn back to the camp in a fog of their own gunsmoke – only to encounter the Zulu right horn as its four thousand warriors charged from behind Isandlwana and into the unprotected rear of the British camp. The scene in the camp can only be described as total panic. A warrior from the iNgobamakhosi later recalled:
When I got in sight of [the camp] the whole place was a twisting mass of soldiers and natives fighting, the Mkandempemvu and Umbonambi were all killing, and then we attacked. One can remember little, and saw less, except for the twisting mass of men. (26)
As Lieutenant Raw rode through the chaos, he saw Lieutenant Stafford still on foot and shouted to him to get his horse as ‘it was all up with us’. In the Natal Mercury 12 March 1924, Raw recalled that no one appeared to be in command. Lieutenant Nourse, who had lost his horse as the rocket battery was overrun, found a spare horse and headed for the Nek through which the camp's reserve cattle and horses were plunging, a scene he described as ‘biblical’. Plunging his horse into the maelstrom, he escaped to tell the tale.
The ammunition myth
After Chelmsford's well equipped force was massacred by the spear-carrying Zulus, an acceptable explanation had to be found; being out-generalled or out-fought by natives was not acceptable to the British. Chelmsford, together with his military and political advisers, urgently searched for a rational explanation, and the explanation they produced was both simple and logical – they reasoned that the soldiers on the line had run out of ammunition.
Survivors reported that Durnford's men had experienced ammunition supply problems, but Durnford retreated to the camp because his men were in danger of being surrounded. When the scene of the disaster was later visited, it was apparent that the Zulus had taken all the Martini-Henry rifles of the dead. They had also removed the boxes of ammunition that had remained on the ammunition carts; some of the boxes had been smashed open by the Zulus immediately following the battle. Other Zulus had removed ammunition from the pouches of dead soldiers, which encouraged the belief that the soldiers had exhausted their available supply before being overwhelmed. This belief was strengthened by the fact that smashed empty ammunition boxes lay around, and it was conveniently presumed that this was evidence of frantic British attempts to obtain further supplies. Collectively, this was a convincing argument that writers have perpetuated; the blame was laid at the door of incompetent officers or over-protective quartermasters.
The oft-discussed difficulty of opening ammunition boxes at Isandlwana is one of the most enduring myths of the Zulu war, probably because the tale remained unchallenged until the 1960s. There is adequate evidence both to refute these assertions and dispose of the myth. There are numerous survivors' reports that confirm extra ammunition was steadily moved out to the line before and during the Zulu attack. Private Wilson wrote that before the battle ‘ammunition was beginning to be brought down to the companies’. Captain Essex confirmed that the quartermaster reputed to have denied ammunition to the line was actually shot dead even before boxes had been loaded on to a cart. Essex then saw the same cart deliver ammunition to the line. Much more ammunition was ferried out to the front line in ‘Scotch carts’ drawn by mules which, when fully loaded, could carry thirty boxes each containing six hundred rounds. Following the official archaeological excavation of the battlefield in 2000, a number of ammunition box lining handles were found along the firing line, indicating that boxes sent out by Captain Essex reached the front line where they were successfully opened. Zulu accounts confirmed that those survivors of the 24th Regiment who had retreated to the waggon park were all still firing ‘furiously until their ammunition became exhausted, then all perished’. (25) Perhaps the inadvertent progenitor of the myth was General Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, who wrote of an ammunition box difficulty nearly fifty years after the event. He obviously forgot that a few days after the disaster he had written, ‘I was out with the front companies of the 24th handing them spare ammunition’. The myth grew to make an inexplicable defeat explicable; it also denied the enormous bravery and skill of the Zulus.
Once the Zulus were through the British line, the fighting and slaughter raged for little more than half an hour before sheer force of numbers overwhelmed the surviving soldiers. Whilst no soldier lived to tell the tale, several accounts survive from Zulu warriors interviewed after the battle:
Ah, those red soldiers at Isandlwana, how few they were, and how they fought! They fell like stones – each man in his place. (27)
They threw down their guns, when the ammunition was done, and then commenced with their pistols, which they fired as long as their ammunition lasted; and then they formed a line, shoulder to shoulder, and back to back, and fought with their knives. (28)
Some covered their faces with their hands, not wishing to see death. Some ran around. Some entered into their tents. Others were indignant; although badly wounded they died where they stood, at their post. (29)
One specific report clearly related to Durnford's last stand. There were no survivors from this group and no eye-witnesses other than Lieutenant Curling. However, Mehlokazulu, one of Chief Sihayo's sons, was present and gave a detailed statement of events when he was interviewed at Pietermaritzberg after the battle:
When we closed in we came onto a mixed party of men who had evidently been stopped by the end of our horn. They made a desperate resistance, some firing with pistols and others with swords. I repeatedly heard the word ‘fire’ but we proved too many for them, and killed them where they stood. When all was over I had a look at these men, and saw an officer with his arm in a sling and with a big moustache, surrounded by Carbineers, soldiers and other men I did not know. (30)
The Zulus killed the soldiers, their horses, cattle and those camp dogs they could catch; such was their fury. By about 1 pm only one British soldier remained alive. He was probably a survivor of Captain Younghusband's company. When they had fought their way towards the area of the waggon park, this soldier had climbed up the side of Isandlwana and taken refuge in a small cave. For another two hours, according to Zulu reports, he husbanded his ammunition and killed any Zulu who approached the cave. Eventually, the Zulus lost patience with this lone sniper and gathered a force armed with captured Martini-Henry rifles. They poured volley after volley into the cave until the soldier was hit. His body was discovered some ten months later by Captain Mainwaring's burial party, with a rope around his neck. Zulu folklore records their sorrow at having had to kill such a brave man, and his name and regiment remain unknown.
About sixty Europeans survived Isandlwana by escaping (the exact number is debatable), including five British officers who lived to tell the tale; these were Lieutenant Curling and four mounted transport officers – Captains Edward Essex and Alan Gardner, together with Lieutenants William Cochrane and Horace Smith-Dorrien. Apart from Curling, these officers had all been engaged on duties within the camp before they made good their escape.
In the early 1900s it was realised that a partial eclipse had occurred across southern Africa as the battle of Isandlwana drew to its bloody close. No Isandlwana survivors mentioned it, but that is understandable due to the smoke from the artillery and volley firing that preceded the defeat. No mention of the event was made at the time by any of the British military elsewhere in Zululand; it must be presumed that the eclipse was not perceptible to the naked eye at the time.