The
little-known story of how Liverpool men were ready with their guns and bayonets
when the Zulus charged at Rorke's Drift can now be told. From the safety of
their lounge chairs, millions of TV viewers have heard the thunder of Zulus
beating their hide shields with assegais in the 1964 film "Zulu"
starring Stanley Baker, Michael Caine and Jack Hawkins.
But even now
there is a sense of wonder at how soldiers besieged in the mission house, reply
to the native war chant with their own song, Men of Harlech. It is enough to
bring tears to the eyes of any seasoned patriot of Wales.
But shouldn't
those brave red-coated soldiers have been singing "Maggie May" or
some shanty from the Liverpool docks? A book details the part played by men
from Merseyside and other parts of the North West in the epic defence of
Rorke's Drift.
Our troops
stood alone on January 22, 1879, hours after a British force of at least 800
soldiers, supported by hundreds of native levies, had been destroyed by Zulu
warriors drawn from the army of some 8,000 assembled by King Cetawayo.
Liverpool's
Daily Post was among those reporting events from the Transvaal with mounting
concern. The Afrikaners in the area had requested British help to check the
Zulus and their fearless impis (regiments).
But Cetawayo
imperiously dismissed the British demand that he should disband his army and
accept our sovereignty over his kingdom. Instead, he attacked the slumbering
British army of Lord Chelmsford at Isandlwana.
Communications
took much longer then, even in the mighty British Empire. But on February 12
came the despatch that chilled the nation. "A British Column
Annihilated," ran the Post's headline. It would have been read by with
foreboding by the families and friends of Liverpudlians serving with the 24th
Regiment in the region.
Twenty one of
those who had enrolled in the city were killed. Nine men from Manchester were
killed, four from Ashton-under-Lyme, four from Burnley, three from Preston and
one from Wigan.
Queen Victoria
and her Government, under Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli, and ordinary men
and women were shocked to learn that a modern, well-equipped army could be
routed by what had regarded as a primitive people. But the Zulus had been badly
under-estimated. A victory was needed and needed quickly to redress the
balance, so the "spin doctors" of the day could turn disaster into
triumph.
It came about
eight miles away at Rorke's Drift. Flushed with success, having washed their
spears in blood, the Zulu's felt they could quickly rub out this missionary
outpost, where there was also a supply base and a hospital. It was being
defended that day and night by 155 men, of whom 36 were sick or wounded.
All were under
the command of Lt John Rouse Merriott Chard of the Royal Engineers, who had
been sent there to work on the Buffalo River, and Lt Gonville Bromhead i/c a
detachment of men of the 24th Regiment of Foot. Crucially, these men at Rorke's
Drift had Martini Henry rifles which could fire 20 rounds a minute in ideal
conditions, accurately up to 400 yards. The assegai, a terrible weapon in
hand-to-hand combat, couldn't match that.
Among the
marksmen were men from Liverpool: James Ashton; Thomas Buckley, Thomas Burke,
Patrick Kears, Augustus Morris, Frederick Morris, Robert Norris and Peter
Sawyer. All were to receive the South Africa Medal 1877-78 and the 1879 clasps.
Most also received an address from the Mayor of Durban, expressing
"admiration and gratitude".
Eleven members
of the garrison were awarded VCs, leading some modern historians to wonder
whether the battle had been glorified to deflect attention from the defeat at
Isandlwana. Whatever the truth of that, there is no doubt that most defenders
conducted themselves with bravery.
Seventeen died
and many more were wounded. But our loss was tiny compared to that of the
Zulus, whose bodies piled up in hundreds behind the walls and mealie bags. In a
letter to his wife, Sergeant George Smith, refers to a Mr James Dalton, who was
parading the scene urging, the troops to "pot the fellows".
In the film
emphasis is laid on the Welshness of the defenders. The list of those awarded
the VC was read by Richard Burton from Pontrhydfen. Confusion might have arisen
from the fact that the 24th Regiment had moved its headquarters from Birmingham
to Brecon in 1873, but the 2nd battalion, the Warwickshire's (the men at
Rorke's Drift), did not take the name the South Wales Borderers until 1881.
Private Burke
was typical of the tough, unyielding men, who built and protected a great
empire. At Rorke's Drift, he did his duty, no more and no less. After that,
bouts of venereal disease and dyspepsia suggested that he enjoyed the company
of the bottle and women in about equal measure. Although he later reached the
rank of sergeant with the Liverpool King's Regiment, he was demoted at least
once for drunken behaviour.
On leaving the
Army in 1897, Burke married Honora Lambert. They had three children and moved
to Wellesley Road, Toxteth. He was appointed landlord of the Crown Vaults pub
in Park Road. He died in 1925, aged 64, leaving more than £14,000, a goodly
fortune then. A rededication service was held at his graveside at Ford
Cemetery, Litherland, on July 7 2002, by the 1879 Group set up to commemorate
Isandlwana and Rorke's Drift.
Some fared
less well. Thomas Buckley was living in a hostel in Liverpool at the time of
his death, having either lost of sold his medals. However, shortly before his
death, replacements were issued for him to wear at a veterans' reunion in
Gateshead. He was buried in an unmarked grave in Anfield Cemetery in 1934.
Jim Bancroft
has always been fascinated by military history and has written a series of
illustrated books called "Local Heroes", covering the Crimean War,
the Indian Mutiny and the Boer War. Now he has added Rorke's Drift.
"Most of
the rank and file soldiers were rough and ready lads from the coal-mining,
docks and cotton-manufacturing community in an around the tough city
slums," he says. "Their only alternative to the highly-disciplined
life in the British Army was a precarious environment and drudgery.
This
combination, and their staunch loyalty to their unit, made them equally
formidable fighters and a rifle in their hands gave them the advantage."
Thirty five
years later their successors stopped The German Kaiser in Belgium. The picture
above is of John Williams, whose real name was Fielding and Henry Hook on the
right, whose depiction in the film is a travesty. In a previous post his later career
as a senior attendant at the British Museum library is mentioned.
How much help,
I wonder, rather later, did he give to the Russian, Vladimir Ilyich Ulyanov,
better known as Lenin?
Perhaps you are mixing up your films? Michael Caine and Sean Connery wore the red coat in "The Man Who Would Be King", set in roughly the same period, but Sean wasn't in "Zulu", Stanley Baker, a Welshman, was.
ReplyDeleteTrue, and now amended.
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