Chelmsford’s advance commenced on 31 May and was very different in character to that of Crealock’s coastal division. Almost immediately further tragedy struck. It was not another great defeat at the hands of the Zulus but the death of the young exiled heir to the throne of France, Prince Louis Napoleon. The Zulus had deployed a large number of scouting parties to observe the British progress; the main British advance would therefore be accomplished in the face of almost constant skirmishing. On 1 June a small patrol including Lieutenant Jaheel Brenton Carey of the 98th Regiment and the exiled Prince Imperial of France set out from the Second Division to select a suitable camping ground for Chelmsford’s force. Despite the fact that the area had already been swept for Zulus and the Flying Column was only a few miles away, the patrol was ambushed at a deserted homestead and the prince was killed. Although his death was a minor incident in the history of the war, at home it created a greater scandal than the defeat at Isandlwana and resulted in a story that was set to run and run. The ingredients were potent. Brave young descendant of the century’s outstanding leader forced into exile while serving with his adopted country in a far-off place; a violent death and cowardice by the British officer who abandoned him, a grieving widowed mother, Queen Victoria’s involvement and the end of a dynasty. The public thoroughly enjoyed the Schadenfreude, not least because it had happened to a Frenchman.
By this time Chelmsford had become increasingly ruthless in his determination to bring the war to a conclusion by any means possible. British soldiers burned any Zulu homestead they came across, whether it had any military connection or not, and confiscated whatever cattle they could find.
At the end of June Chelmsford established camp on the banks of the White Mfolozi river overlooking King Cetshwayo’s capital. A flurry of last-minute diplomatic activity by the Zulu king took place. Chelmsford was not concerned with Cetshwayo’s diplomatic overtures so much as with his own urgent need to bring the war to a close. His replacement, Sir Garnet Wolseley, was already in South Africa and both wanted the glory of the final battle. Wolseley sent Chelmsford several desperate telegrams attempting to halt the British advance; Chelmsford ignored them.
At first light on 4 July 1879, Chelmsford led the fighting men of the Second Division and Flying Column across the river to bring the second invasion of Zululand to its dreadful and inevitable conclusion. They engaged with and defeated the Zulu army at Ulundi in a brief one-sided battle dominated by the Gatling gun. By this stage the marching troops were unrecognizable as such: they were weather-beaten, their uniforms were in tatters, many of their red jackets had disintegrated and long hair and beards were common.
King Cetshwayo escaped but was finally captured by a patrol on 28 August. While much of Zululand had not been affected by the war, vast swathes had either been destroyed by the British or were denuded of population because of the consequences of British action. Most Zulu men were still mobilized with the Zulu army or in hiding. The second invasion saw the worst excesses of destruction, when Imperial troops returned to the Nqutu area of Zululand, including Isandlwana and Sihayo’s homestead: the British carried out further intensive attacks, burning villages and confiscating cattle. The district’s women, children and surviving cattle had also disappeared; they had moved into caves and thickly forested areas for safety. On 10 May the invading column commander, General Newdigate, ordered the advancing mounted troops to burn all the homesteads they encountered; Major Bengough described the destructive action and burning villages as ‘a perfect line of fire’. When W.E. Montague rode through the area towards the end of the second invasion, he wrote that ‘there was no sign of life, except for the rising smoke from burning kraals, no labourers in the fields, just dead silence’.1 When he returned in October 1879 nothing had changed; the retreating victorious British army continued their policy of destruction, possibly to deter any Zulu retaliation. Although the Colonial Office memorandum acknowledged that the Zulu War had been declared ‘against Cetshwayo and not against the Zulu nation’, it was the Zulu people that largely suffered the long-term consequences of widespread destruction and death.2
The British forces then marched out of Zululand and left its destitute people to their fate. Starved of good news and needing a lift, the British nation cheered; the public welcomed home the worn-out regiments that had suffered greatly during the mismanaged campaign. There were plenty of heroes to fete and their names became known in every household. Queen Victoria, after years of refusing to involve herself in the nation’s affairs, was pleased to pin decorations and orders on the fresh tunics of her brave soldiers. For several weeks the country enjoyed being proud of its army until memories faded and fresh news succeeded old. Sir Bartle Frere was recalled, his credibility ruined. He defended his position to the end; on his deathbed his last words were: ‘Oh, if only they would read “The Further Correspondence”: they must understand’.3 Lord Chelmsford survived the wrath of the press and, being a favourite of Queen Victoria, still more honours came his way, though Disraeli refused to receive him. In 1906 Chelmsford died of a heart attack while playing billiards at his club.
King Cetshwayo was exiled to Cape Town from where he frequently petitioned Queen Victoria to grant him an audience. He was described in Parliament as, ‘a gallant Monarch defending his country and his people against one of the most wanton and wicked invasions that ever could be made upon an independent people’.4
He finally arrived in England in July 1882 and was presented to Queen Victoria at Osborne House on the Isle of Wight. As a result of the meeting Cetshwayo was escorted back to Zululand and reinstated as King of the Zulus. During Cetshwayo’s three-year absence Wolseley had independently restructured Zululand into thirteen chiefdoms, a classic case of ‘divide and rule’. It was never in the newly appointed chiefs’ interest to accept King Cetshwayo in his former role and in 1883 his homestead was attacked by rival Zulus causing him to flee. He took refuge under the protection of the British resident at Eshowe but died on 8 February 1884; it is believed his own people poisoned him.
Meanwhile the debacle of the Zulu War convinced the Boers that the British Army was not invincible. Encouraged by widespread discontent throughout the Transvaal, the Boer community made preparations to resist further British influence. Within a few months of the battle of Ulundi they commenced limited military action against the British; it was a conflict that quickly developed into the first of a series of Boer Wars. Zululand remained in turmoil until 1906 when parts of the country erupted in a ferocious uprising, from which it never recovered.
After the Zulu War a steady stream of visitors made their way to the battlefields of Rorke’s Drift and Isandlwana; the battlefield of Isandlwana was still littered with battle debris – smashed boxes, derelict wagons, rotting clothing and, most distressing, scattered bleached human bones. Following a number of protests from visitors, the Governor General of Natal instructed Alfred Boast to organize the cleaning of the site. The task took one month and was completed on 9 March 1883. Boast listed no fewer than 298 cairns marking graves, each containing upwards of four bodies. He even removed the skeletons of the artillery horses killed in the ravine during the flight along the fugitives’ trail. The bodies of Captain Anstey and Durnford were re-buried by their families, Anstey at Woking and Durnford at Pietermaritzburg. Over the years a number of regimental and family memorial stones were erected at Isandlwana; in March 1914 a memorial to the 24th Regiment was erected by the regiment.
Of the survivors from the war, Horace Smith-Dorrien rose to the rank of general when he commanded the II Corps during their First World War retreat from Mons; he died in a car crash near Bath in 1930. John Crealock rose to command his regiment, the 95th; he saw battle during the Boer War and retired in 1900. Edward Essex had several narrow escapes during the Boer War, earning himself the nickname ‘lucky Essex’; he then became an instructor at Sandhurst before commanding the Gordon Highlanders. Sir Henry Evelyn Wood VC died a field marshal in 1918 aged 81. Colonel Richard Glyn never recove
red from losing his regiment at Isandlwana; when the l/24th was reconstituted, Major Dunbar (who had resigned his commission at Isandlwana) was promoted to command the regiment. Glyn became Colonel of the Regiment; he died in 1900 at the age of 69.
PART TWO
CHAPTER 12
Medical Treatment of the Wounded
Without medicines, lint, bandages, or any of the usual equipment at Helpmakaar, I had to make use of what I could find.
SURGEON BLAIR-BROWN
The experiences and reports of the medical officers, Rorke’s Drift defender Surgeon James Henry Reynolds and the Helpmekaar hospital Surgeon David Blair-Brown FRCS, make interesting reading as both were involved with the Rorke’s Drift casualties. Their reports clearly illustrate the nature of the wounds and treatments rendered to the casualties. Because they had fought behind walls and barricades their wounds were all in the upper parts of the body, and those who died had been hit in the head. If Zulu fire had been better aimed, there is no doubt that the British casualty rate would have been much higher. It is also uncertain whether Surgeon Reynolds examined the British fatalities before their burial, as he left no report detailing the causes of their deaths. Had such an examination taken place, it is possible that Reynolds could have differentiated between soldiers killed by Zulu rifle fire from Martini-Henry rounds and those killed by an assortment of elderly Zulu muskets. Certainly all the gunshot wounded survivors had been hit by rounds from the older style of Zulu muskets; many of these casualties suffered horrendous injuries, but lived to tell the tale. It is known that some of the British gunshot fatalities were killed instantly; the question therefore has to be asked, could Martini-Henry rounds have caused these instantaneous deaths? Indeed, it is unlikely that the slow velocity rounds from Zulu muskets fired from a range of 300 yards could have produced the instantaneous death of Byrne and the clean bullet wound that passed straight through the body of Scammell: this question will probably never be answered.
After the battle, Chard wrote that some of the bullet wounds suffered by the Zulus were ‘very curious’:
One man’s head was split open, exactly as if done with an axe. Another had been hit just between the eyes, the bullet carrying away the whole of the back of his head, leaving his face perfect, as though it were a mask, only disfigured by the small hole made by the bullet passing through. One of the wretches we found, one hand grasping a bench that had been dragged from the Hospital, and sustained thus in the position we found him in, while in the other hand he still clutched the knife with which he had mutilated one of our poor fellows, over whom he was still leaning.
Surgeon Reynolds had little time to examine the piles of dead Zulus apart from ordering their collection and burial; understandably he concentrated his attention on the wounded and dying British soldiers before having the worst cases moved to Helpmekaar where he, mistakenly, thought there would be better medical facilities.
Casualties at Rorke’s Drift
Other Casualties
Commissariat Department. James Dalton VC – wounded; Byrne – killed. NNC and NMP. Corporal C. Schiess – wounded; Trooper R.S. Green – wounded; Trooper Hunter – killed; Corporal Scammell – wounded; Corporal W. Anderson – killed (shot by own side, in the act of deserting).
Throughout the Zulu War, close combat fighting such as occurred at Rorke’s Drift resulted in the heads and shoulders of British troops being chiefly exposed to the attacking Zulus. Consequently most of the severely wounded under those conditions received penetrating injuries to the head, neck and shoulders, some of which ended fatally. The medical records of Surgeon Blair-Brown FRCS who examined the Rorke’s Drift casualties at Helpmekaar confirm the injuries and the appalling lack of medical facilities:
Corporal 1112 John Lyons of the 2/24th regiment, when engaged in the defence of Rorke’s Drift, received a bullet in his neck, near the posterior margin of the sterno-mastoid on the left side, about the upper portion of the middle third of its length. Only one wound, that of entrance, was present. He complained of great pain in the neck on the slightest movement. When in bed, the pillow caused an increase of this. He had lost almost all use of his arms and hands, especially the right one, which he described as “quite dead.” Painful “twitchings” were experienced in the arms. Whenever he wished to move his head from the bed, some one had to support it between their hands before he could do so. At Rorke’s Drift several surgeons tried to find the bullet, but were unsuccessful. In the above condition, he came under my care at Helpmakaar on the 26th January, 1879, four days after the injury. Next day I put him under chloroform and made a prolonged attempt to find the bullet. The course I found it had taken was in a direct line with the spinal cord. I made a free opening in the middle line as far down the course as possible, and again attempted to reach the bullet. I found, by digital examination now, that the processes of two adjacent vertebrae were smashed. I could also feel the spinal cord itself. Pressure, thereon, instantly caused the patient to turn pale and the pulse to be almost imperceptible, and necessitated the immediate withdrawal of the chloroform and the adoption of artificial respiration. I took away several pieces of the vertebrae processes which were lying loose, but had to give up attempting to reach the bullet. The case continued much as described for sometime. He was sent to the base hospital at Ladysmith, and on taking over the medical charge of that hospital a month later, I found my old patient much in the same condition. He was suffering greatly from the pain in his arms, and wished “to have them both off to relieve him from it.” On examination, I found a distinct hard substance beneath the ligamentum nuchae, which was not present on former occasions. On consultation with the Surgeon-General of the forces, who happened to be on a tour of inspection at the time, I cut down upon it and enucleated an ordinary round bullet with a rather long rough process extending from its smooth surface. This wound healed rapidly, but the original one continued to discharge slightly for a long time. In a few days the pain entirely disappeared from his arms, and their use nearly returned. He was shortly after this sent home to England.
The following cases relate to gunshot injuries which occurred at Rorke’s Drift and which were dealt with by Blair-Brown. The following cases are also taken from his original notes.
Private Frederick Hitch of the 2nd 24th Regiment was hit in the right shoulder. The bullet entered near the base of the scapula, having been fired from the hills opposite to which he was fighting. The bullet made its exit over the bicipital groove in the humerus. There was great swelling of the whole shoulder when seen by me on the 26th of January 1879, and ecchymosis. The tract of the wound was sloughing. Poultices and cold water sufficed to allay this, and the case did well.
Corporal Carl Scammell of the Natal Native Contingent was wounded at Rorke’s Drift. The bullet hit the back of the head, at the posterior margin of the left sternomastoid at its origin, and took a course towards the middle of the scapular base, where the bullet lodged subcutaneously, from which position it had been removed when I took charge of him on the 26th January. Here also, the whole shoulder was greatly swollen and painful, requiring poultices. This case, after the usual slough came away, got well.
Corporal William Allen of the 2nd 24th Regiment was hit in the right shoulder. The bullet entered near the insertion of the deltoid muscle to the humerus, and made its exit at the upper and inner angle of the scapula. The bullet appears to have passed under the scapula, no bone or joint being touched. This wound sloughed and then very rapidly healed up.
Acting Assistant-Commissary James Dalton was hit in the right shoulder when busily engaged forming the ‘laager’ which he had originally commenced, and to which was due the safety of the place. The bullet entered about half an inch above the middle of the clavicle, and made its escape posteriorly at the lowest border of the trapezius muscle. The course taken was curious, regularly running round the shoulder and down the back, escaping all the important structures. The wounds, like all those received at Rorke’s Drift, were wide and open and sloughing
when seen by me on the 26th January. After the slough came away the usual tenax was applied. The whole of the field medical equipment having been captured by the enemy at Isandhlwana, I had no antiseptic to use. I thought of quinine, which I knew was a wonderful preserver of animal tissues, and used a solution of that, experimenting in this case. It seemed to answer, as the wounds got well after being injected several times with it. My subsequent experience, however, is that the wound would have done as well without it.
Private John Waters of the 1st 24th Regiment. This man had been left behind by his regiment (the one annihilated at Isandhlwana), as he was fulfilling the duties at Rorke’s Drift of a hospital orderly. During the fight, he was hit in the right shoulder. The bullet entered the deltoid muscle about its lower third anteriorly, and lodged opposite the surgical neck of the humerus posteriorly, where it had been cut out. On probing this wound, no bone was felt, and after the usual sloughing, it healed. In every case the projectile found was an ordinary round one, and the nature of the injuries tend to show that they were all produced by similar bullets.
Rorke's Drift Page 21
