Making History Come Alive offers, Catastrophic Defeat Wasn’t the Only British Issue After January 22nd by our colleague Michael Thomas Leibrandt
A Catastrophic Defeat Wasn’t the Only British Issue After January 22nd.
It’s been 145 years since a stunned and shattered British centre column arrived back at the camp at Islandlwana in the hours of dusk on the evening of January 22nd, when shock and disbelief overcame them. Assembling several miles away from the camp, Lord Sir Chelmsford was overheard saying, “I don’t understand, I left 1,000 men to guard the camp.”
That night — as his remaining forces who said farewell to their comrades not fourteen hours before when they left the camp at Islandlwana when they were awaiting the arrival of Colonel Anthony Durnford’s №2 column from Rourke’s Drift — reentered Islandlwana to see the horror of horrors. Having to camp in the dark in the shadow of Islandlwana Hill among the more than 6,000 European and Zulu casualties was horrific enough. Seeing the orange glow above the mission station at Rourke’s Drift in the distance which was itself now the site of a battle was even worse.
Earlier that afternoon, the main Zulu Impi had overwhelmed the British camp at Islandlwana. Advanced scouts from the camp had stumbled upon the Main Zulu Impi hidden in a valley a few miles from the camp. Immediately realizing that they had been discovered, the Zulus rose up and advanced towards the camp.
Colonel Durnford — whose №2 Column had arrived at Islandlwana just a short time before to reinforce — became trapped in the dry donga in front of Islandlwana.
For a period of time, the British Royal Artillery and British rank fire pinned down the advancing Zulu regiments. But Zulu military tactics known as the “horns of the charging bull” finally exposed British firing lines that were ultimately too extended.
As British infantry attempted to fall back on the camp, Zulu regiments poured in among them. Durnford was killed in the dry donga. Commander Henry Pulleine was killed in the camp. Durnford’s rocket battery was overwhelmed early in the engagement. A lone member of the 24th made it up the side of Islandlwana Mountain and took cover in a cave, firing until his ammunition ran out and he was killed. Lieutenants Melvill and Coghill grabbed the Queen’s Colour and galloped furiously out of the camp towards the Buffalo River where they were caught and killed.
The colours where eventually recovered down river.
In the late afternoon, Commandant Lonsdale who had left the camp the day before secured permission to return to his tent at Islandlwana. Suffering from heat stroke, he allowed his horse to follow the road into camp. When he came out of his stupor, he found himself among the Zulu Army who had control of the camp. He spurred his horse and narrowly outran a party of pursuing Impi.
After the fighting, perhaps the last survivor of the Battle arrived at Rourke’s Drift. Flip — who was a dog in the camp at Islandlwana — wandered into Rourke’s Drift with a spear wound to the shoulder to the cheers of the soldiers.
Dogs definitely played a role in the Zulu War. When the Imperial Prince Royal (son of Napoleon III) was killed by the Zulus in a skirmish, a dog was killed with him belonging to Bettington’s Horse.
But perhaps the most heart-breaking story of our canine friends comes from Lt. Maxwell of the NNC who chronicles a pack of dogs who could be seen around Islandlwana after the battle. The former pets of the camp — pointers, Newfoundlands, setters — the majority of whom could not again be domesticated.
As the British returned to Islandlwana to bury the dead and clean up the Battlefield, they would eventually have to put the vast majority of the dogs down — who were running wild on the Battlefield.
Literally.
Michael Thomas Leibrandt lives and works in Abington Township, PA.