ZULULAND

Zululand is not the dry, bushveld flat and dry savannah one imagines or is led to believe is the norm from Hollywood movie productions.  It is in fact, a beautiful, lush place laden with sugar cane, pastures with rolling green hills, a pristine coastline, forests full of gum trees, and a plethora of zig-zagging rivers and streams.  This is in direct contrast to its history, which is rife with historic conflicts between tribes, kingdoms, and nations.

The regional infrastructure is modern and efficient, with late-model cars, homes, and productive businesses.  The roads are excellent, if a bit narrow at times.  Quite a bit of poverty exists here still, but this is not “Third World Africa.”  It is a unique ethnic culture and one with a rapid expansion history until Great Britain – making an imperial power grab of its own but also honoring requests from nearby tribes and Kingdoms to quell the aggressive Zulu nation – declared war on the Zulus in 1879.

Three years later the warrior dominated society (built much along the same lines as the ancient Greek Spartans from about 1816 on under the great Zulu leader Shaka kaSenzangakhona, or “Shaka Zulu”) were forced to disband militarily.  Their King Cetschwayo kaMpande was taken south to Capetown in chains, and the nation was then subdivided among 13 chiefs.  They subsequently spilled more Zulu blood fighting between themselves in the ensuing power vacuum, than the Zulus ever had fighting the Kingdoms of Lesotho, Swaziland, Great Britain, The Boers, and other rival tribes.

One remarkable man I learned about who was part of this Zulu history was John Dunn.  Dunn was a legendary white hunter, ivory trader, rancher, and gun runner (who sold useless old flintlock muskets to Zulus and other tribes) and became wealthy from his various enterprises. As a result he acquired large tracts of farmland and cattle and befriended King Cethschwayo.  Dunn’s influence also enlarged as a result of taking on 48 Zulu wives and siring over 117 children.  He was prominent in Zulu circles for over three decades.

Dunn saw the war coming with the British prior to 1879, and knew Zulu spears and shields – despite their fighting numbers and martial spirit – would never stand up against modern Enfield rifles.  He sided with the British.  That saw the end of the friendship between he and the King.  Yet, Zulu culture is founded around respect, and to a lesser extent ownership of cattle and multiple wives.   Dunn was respected for his gutsy change of allegiance, and for how firmly embedded he was through his wealth, wives and children in Zulu society.  When the Anglo-Zulu war ended in 1882 with a British victory, Dunn was appointed as one of the 13 chiefs (and the only white man so named) in the new Zulu Nation now controlled by the British.  Today, Dunn is the most numerous surname among colored tribal families in Zululand.

ESHOWE

A quick visit was arranged to the Fort Nongqayi Museum & Village in Eshowe, scene of one of the most important battles of the Anglo-Zulu war.   The fort was built in 1883 by the British to house a native Zulu police force (the Nongqayi) whose purpose was to enforce British control following the end of the war.  Here – uncharacteristically in relative comparison to other museums and exhibits I have viewed since leaving Capetown – the history of the fort itself, the area, the Zulu culture, and military events are all adequately explained (both in Zulu and in English).  Strangely there are no takeaway pamphlets or booklets to walk away with that will cement the information you have just acquired.

My guide for the afternoon, a young Zulu history intern named Zanoxolo (impossible to pronounce by a westerner as the Zulu language incorporates the famous “clicking” sound utilized by many southern tribes in their verbalizations), is very knowledgeable about his people and their history.  We discussed ideas about a more effective portrayal for visitors at the museum of Zulu history from all perspectives, especially the use of more printed materials.  It is my hope he gets promoted to curator upon full completion of his history degree due to the passion which he approached his people’s history, and the enthusiasm with which he passed it on to me.

Two other museums further north in the historical Zulu capital of Ulundi are missed.  Most of the history repositories here close early (as early as 3 PM) and are extremely difficult to find.  They are not well marked on either maps or public circulars. Locals often don’t even know about the presence of their own nearest museum.   It is a definite shortcoming of the tourist industry in Zululand or Kwazulu-Natal – the lack of clear and specific road directions and highway or roadway signage once you closely approach your intended destination.

Disappointed at missing out on a Zulu cultural showing (including traditional costumes and dancing) and a nearby multi-media presentation in Ulundi, I hit the road and decide to continue fairly late into the evening for two famous battlefield objectives related to the Anglo-Zulu war of 1879.

ISANDLWANA

As the daylight rapidly fades, coming around a curve north of Babanango I am suddenly transfixed by a dominant silhouetted object now framed by a blood-red sun.  It vaguely resembles a British Lion in repose, or the resting Sphinx of the Giza Plateau in Egypt.  But the proud torso is lacking a head.  This visual imagery turns out to be very symbolic of what happened here 135 years ago.  As my drive continues, I have the haunting feeling that I have been here before.

It is my pleasure this night to be a guest of the Isandlwana Lodge.  It stands about two miles from the object of my visual fascination, Isandlwana Mountain.  It was built in 1998 by two American philanthropists, Maggie Bryant and Pat Stubbs.  Both wanted an environmentally sensitive building and one that architecturally conformed to the site.  Shield shaped and featuring a huge curving thatched roof, The Lodge was purposefully designed to appear as if it had grown out of the rock formations on which it is built.

The beautiful earth-toned interior tiles on the Lodge are from South Africa.  Most of the furniture inside was made in nearby Durban from woods indigenous to the area.  Columns that support the roof are from an old pier in Durban and are named after Zulu commanders or significant men in the chain of command during the Anglo-Zulu war.  The view from either the exterior stone terraces or private bedroom verandas and the glass-walled interior overlooking the mountain and intervening valley are spectacular – especially at sunset.  Manager Mike O’Connor acts as the perfect host in balancing out hospitality and a raconteur’s playful spirit as he warmly provides time and space for two days of battlefield research and writing.

At the very start of the Anglo-Zulu war, with Britain alarmed at the growing territorial expansion and military might of the Zulu nation interfering with Crown interests in South Africa, the British gave King Cetshwayo an impossible set of conditions to avoid war.  By early January the British were already marching in three columns totaling nearly 4800 men into Zululand.  They camped on the night of January 21^st at the base of the previously described mountain – Isandlwana, meaning “looks like a little house.”

Immediately the next morning the British Commander, General Frederic Augustus Thesiger, 2nd Baron Chelmsford (Lord Chelmsford) divided his forces.  By the end of the day, he had divided his total command 11 ways, with none of the elements having communication with the other (a huge military faux paus on both counts).

Their intention was to search for the Zulu and then bring accurate accounts of numbers and locations back to camp. About 1800 of his troops and a contingent of native irregulars stationed in a wide arc at the base of the mountain remained near camp.  He personally led a force of about 1200 mounted troops to the south to seek the elusive Zulu.  The troops left behind were from the beginning were far removed from their tents, their supplies, their ammunition re-supply, and critically from each other.  Each unit would end up fighting its own battle.

Chelmsford  was warned that these Zulu warriors he was about to face were much more deadly than those the Brits had encountered in previous skirmishes.  Still, Chelmsford maintained a disdain for the Zulu character and fighting ability.  To add stupidity to Chelmford’s ignorance, the position of his remaining troops was also undefended on two sides.  Due to the nature of the topography at Isandlwana, those defending the camp were blind to what lay around them.  It was felt by Chelmsford and other officers that the Zulu would never attack an established British camp.

The Zulu ran feints with small-unit demonstrations all morning, intending to distract Chelmsford’s command detail.  Meanwhile, approximately 20,000 Zulu warriors were streaming like army ants toward the lightly defended British troops at the base of Isandlwana.  Another 5000 lay in wait at the river ford to block any British retreat. As his sitting duck troops were making their first Zulu contact on the mountain’s outskirts, Chelmsford sat calmly taking morning tea and then breakfast about 12 miles away.

The Zulu employed their classic (and deadly) “Horns of the Beast” formation. A primary “head” and “trunk” or main body of Zulu troops occupy the battlefield center.  The head classically makes contact with the enemy, then falls back as if being routed and hopes the enemy will rashly give chase.  This is where the bulk of the troops (the trunk, made up of the most experienced warriors) rushes up by surprise to overwhelm the enemy.  However … this is only done after a left and right pincer (thus “Horns of The Beast”) have made a wide sweep around the enemy and encircled him stealthfully from the rear.  Too late, the enemy learns he is both surrounded and outnumbered.  It should be further noted: the Zulu do not take prisoners.

At Isandlwana, Chelmsford left the encamped troops in command of Lt. Colonel Anthony Durnford, who became the scapegoat for the battle for many years afterward.  An attempt by him to make contact with Chelmsford failed.  Watching through field glasses from a distance, at the time of the initial attack the Baron saw that his field tents had not been struck (a military sign of distress) and assumed all was well.  The Zulu – protected by chest high grass until they were almost on top of the British – overwhelmed the invasion force right from the start.

Most not caught in the initial attack engaged in a heroic fighting retreat.  A series of 279 white cairns viscerally marked (each one representing an average of five British dead) the “Trail of Tears” back to the tents at the base of the mountain.  The cairns and their staggered spacing as the battlefield visitor works their way toward where the top row of tents would have been near the base of the mountain are very emotionally moving.

The defenders fought valiantly, with Zulu on all four sides of them.  Eventually, they ran out of ammunition, the Zulu “horns” having taken a wide berth and come up from behind to cut off the ammo supply wagons from the Redcoats.  Then the battle became a matter of hand to hand combat – the British bayonet against the Zulu stabbing spear, the assegai.  Against the rapidly diminishing British, were arrayed a 10,000 man Zulu front (head and trunk), a 7000 man right horn, and a 5000 man left horn.

The fighting was over by 2 PM, except for one solitary British soldier who fired from a cave high on the mountain until his ammo ran out at 3:30.  At that time, the Zulus burned the British tents, and then ritually disembowled all 1329 of the British dead as well as their own 3000 in the belief that it “released the bad spirit that had been trapped inside them during the battle.”

Chelmsord, meanwhile, did not arrive with his 1200+ troopers until 9:30 that night at the still smoking tents.  He was thus initially spared the horror and outright evidence of rout – the greatest British defeat in the nation’s military history at the time.  He initially disappeared for seven days, then took up energetic pursuit of the Zulu once again until sacked by the British high command.  Burial for the British dead did not take place for four months out of necessity to await reinforcements and continue pursuit of the Zulu.

ROARKE’S DRIFT

Some parties attempted a rearguard action and a retreat away from the primary river crossing (or “drift”) across the Buffalo River toward their encampment of the previous night at Roarke’s Drift, 11 miles away.  Only those with horses survived.  Nobody among the British who were on foot lived to fight another day.  Most on horse did not make it back to Roarke’s Drift, either.  The Buffalo River was running at a depth of 20 feet that day after ten days of sustained rain, and many survivors to that point ended up drowning in the enraged current or trapped on the Isandlwana side of the river.

Drunk with victory, the Zulu (who were trained to advance up to 50 miles daily for up to a week) continued their assault along the primary supply route toward Roarke’s Drift, where they knew a large British store of supplies was waiting, along with British reinforcements.  Waiting for them were 400 British and native troops.  When a trickle of survivors appeared from the battle at Isandlwana via a parallel escape path known as “The Fugitive Trail” and described the horror of what had just happened, the native troops deserted.  Only 150 regulars were left to defend a small trading post and church rectory confiscated by the British for use as a field hospital against 4000 Zulu.

The drive over is dusty and hot, and the river is currently running at a mere trickle.  Water supply, in fact, is a problem yet without a solution in this part of Zululand.  Rainfall has been minimal for close to three years.

Due to the supplies at the base, however, the British had time to pile up two perimeter lines of flour sacks and another interior line of biscuit boxes to slow the Zulu advance and greatly aid in their defense.  This time, it was the Zulu who were badly led (by a younger brother of Cetschwayo).  A series of five major but uncoordinated attacks against the newly created sack-walls and buildings failed to dislodge the British.

By the time the Redcoats were down to their last 600 rounds of ammunition at 4:30 AM, the Zulu had given up for the night.  The British suffered only 17 dead, a goodly number of them previously wounded patients dragged away by the Zulu in hand-to-hand fighting within the tightly clustered rooms of the hospital building.  The Zulu are said to have suffered over 1000 killed and an equal number of wounded.

Perhaps in reaction to the surprise at the outcome of the battle, and the reaction to the horror of the day’s earlier events 11 miles away at Isandlwana, a record 11 Victoria Crosses (Britain’s Highest Military Honor) were awarded that day to the defender’s of Roarke’s Drift.