ZULU:1879

From the invasion of Zululand & Isandhlwana to Rorkes Drift & Ulundi - the Zulu War freshly related Zulu:1879 is an unusual book. It brings to life a war - nearly 130 years in the past - almost as though it was a modern conflict. We hear the voices of the time speaking with the immediacy of recent recollection. Here are officers, Newspaper reporters, teamsters, ordinary soldiers and even the Zulu warriors themselves recounting their experiences of this remarkable conflict. D.C.F Moodie’s selection has been refined and enhanced by the Leonaur Editors with 3 additional engaging accounts of Zulu Warfare together with a special bonus account from the ranks of the Buffs selected from Leonaur’s book "Tommy Atkins’ War Stories".

Beresford, on his smart chestnut with the white ticks on withers and flanks, was the foremost rider of the force. The Zulu chief bringing up the rear of the fugitives, suddenly turned on the lone horseman who had so outridden his followers. A big man, even for a Zulu, the ring round his head proved him a veteran. The muscles rippled on his shoulders as he compacted himself behind his cowhide shield, marking his distance for the thrust of the gleaming assegai. It flashed out like the head of a cobra as it strikes; Beresford's cavalry sabre clashed with it; the spear-head was dashed aside; the horseman gave point with all the vigour of his arm and the impetus of his galloping horse, and lo! in the twinkling of an eye, the sword point was through the shield, and half its length buried in the Zulu's broad chest. The gallant induna was a dead man.

The flight of the groups of Zulus was a calculated snare; the fugitives in front of the irregulars were simply a decoy. Suddenly from out a deep watercourse crossing the plain and from out the adjacent long grass, sprang up a long line of several thousand armed Zulus. At Buller's loud command to fire a volley and then retire, Beresford and his scouts rode back towards the main body, followed by Zulu bullets. Two men were killed on the spot. A third man's horse slipped up, and his wounded rider came to the ground, the horse running away. Beresford, riding behind his retreating party, looked back and saw that the fallen man was trying to rise into a sitting posture. The Zulus, darting out in haste, were perilously close to the poor fellow, but Beresford, measuring distance with the eye, believed that he saw a chance of anticipating them.

Galloping back to the wounded man, and dismounting, he confronted his adversaries with his revolver, while urging the fallen soldier to get on his (Beresford's) horse. The wounded man bade Beresford re¬mount and fly. Why, said he, should two die when death was inevitable but to one? The quaint resourceful humour of his race did not fail Beresford in this crisis; he turned on the wounded man and swore with clenched fist that he would punch his head if he did not assist in the saving of his life. This droll argument prevailed. Still facing his foes with his revolver, Beresford partly lifted, partly hustled the man into the saddle, then scrambled up himself and set the chestnut a-going after the other horse¬men. Another moment's delay and both must have been assegaied.I was in the wagon, sleeping, and early in the morning I got up to see if it was daylight, and saw the Kaffirs swarming around within twenty yards of me. The alarm was given, and Captain Moriarty called out ‘Guards out.’ I ran back to my wagon to get my rifle (which belonged to No. 1 company Transvaal Rifle Volun-teers of which corps I am a member), but in the confusion of the bullets flying about me, I could not get it out. I now found it so dangerous that I determined to try to bolt. if I could, without remaining to take out my clothes.

As I emerged from the wagon for the last time, I heard Captain Moriarty cry out, ‘Fire away, men, I am done. I then went to the adjoining wagon to call Whittington (also a Pretoria man), and I told him the niggers were around. He immediately came out and jumped down, but was caught almost as soon as he got to the ground, and assegaied on every side. The poor fellow shrieked out, but without avail, as no assistance was at hand. Seeing that I was powerless to do anything, having no arms of any kind, I ran down between the oxen, and made for the river, which was about 60 yards off. I found the Zulus shooting and stabbing the people in all directions. The sight was a most horrifying one, and one never to be forgotten. I had to dodge about to save myself, and am now surprised to find that I managed to get through at all. As soon as I got to the river, I jumped in and made a dive, as swimming was too dangerous, the Zulus standing on the banks, and at the edge of the river, as thick as thieves, throwing assegais and aiming their guns wherever they saw a head. I came up about the middle of the river, but the moment my head was out, I saw several Zulus pointing their guns, and ready to fire. I therefore dived again, and came out on the other side.

The river was very full at the time, and a strong current running. In crossing I had torn off my shirt, the only garment I possessed, and, therefore, when I landed I was entirely in a state of nudity. I now found that fighting was still going on on all sides of me, and that it was almost impossible I could get any further, and in my desperation I contemplated throwing myself in the water, to be drowned peaceably, rather than suffer the death by torture of many of those I saw around me. I, however, got into a courageous spirit again, and dashed off, keeping as much out of the way of the enemy as I could. Several shots were fired at me, and assegais were flying in all directions, but somehow I happened to be fortunate and got clear of the encampment. I made for Meyer’s station as fast as I could, and overtook one soldier on the road, who was shot dead just as I got up to him. I overtook two others shortly after, who were also shot. Getting further on, I fell in with Sergeant Booth and about a dozen men, who were keeping up a retreating fire, and fighting very pluckily. I rested for a few minutes with them, during which time I espied the Zulus coming round the hill to intercept us. I informed Sergeant Booth of this, and he kept up a steady fire upon them, and made the enemy retire back into the hills. I cannot speak too highly of the conduct of Sergeant Booth on this occasion; he fought most pluckily, and lost four of his small band here. It was entirely owing to their doing so well that any of us managed to get through at all. The Zulus would have entirely surrounded us, and not a soul could have escaped.