Their Last Suppers: Legends of History and Their Final Meals (18 page)

• In a large mixing bowl combine pancake mix, cornmeal, milk, egg, and butter.
  
• Pour a little batter on a hot griddle about 9 inches in diameter and fry the pancakes for about 2 minutes each side.
  
• In a separate mixing bowl mix the mayonnaise, cream cheese, and horseradish. Blend well.
  
• Add the ham, then spoon a little of the ham mixture on top of each pancake. Roll the pancakes and fasten with a toothpick.
  
• Place on a baking sheet and broil for about 2 minutes. Eat at once, with or without maple syrup.
  

• In a mixing bowl season the meat with salt and pepper. Place a spoonful of the meat into the hole of each pineapple ring.
  
• In a separate bowl mix the ketchup, brown sugar, and pineapple juice, then mix with the meat.
  
• Shape into 4 patties. Grill or pan fry patties to required taste, fry or grill pineapple rings, then place a patty on one side of each bun. Top each with a pineapple ring and place other half of each bun on top.
  

• Wash and peel the sweet potatoes and apples, then cut into slices.
  
• Cover the bottom of the pie dish with graham cracker crumbs; layer the potato and apple slices over the top of the crumbs.
  
• Mix brown sugar and water and sprinkle over each layer. Season each layer with a sprinkling of apple spice, cinnamon, butter, and vanilla.
  
• Spread a handful of crumbs over the top of the pie and bake at 350°F for 45 minutes.
  
• Let stand for 4 to 5 minutes before serving.
  

• Simmer ham bone in water for 15 to 20 minutes. Season with salt and pepper.
  
• Combine dumpling ingredients to make dough. Place the dough on a floured board and roll very thin. Cut the dough into small pieces and drop into pot with ham. Cook for about 20 to 25 minutes.
  

LORD FREDERICK CHELMSFORD

As the nineteenth century wore on, the saying “The sun never sets on the British Empire” was born. In Australia, India, Africa, and throughout Europe and the Caribbean, the Union Jack flag was flown. Powered by the Industrial Revolution with aggressive merchant fleets and administrators backed up by the resolute forces of its army and navy, Great Britain ruled over more territory than had ever been conquered before by any other nation on Earth.

The “stand and fire” discipline of its army had prevailed over some of the mightiest forces in Europe, backed up by the latest artillery and cavalry with landed gentry in command. They could never have anticipated suffering their largest tactical reversal in more than 50 years against an enemy armed only with cowhide shields, short spears, and their own courage. They were about to meet the Zulus.

After arriving and anchoring themselves in the Cape Town region of South Africa for several years, the British had gradually moved east along the coastline until settling in Durban on the East Coast. More colonists were shipped over from England to further anchor the developments, and a bustling economy was swiftly developed.

The colonial administrator, Sir Bartle Frere, backed by his general, the heavily mustached Lord Frederick Chelmsford, was approached by Boer farmers descended from Dutch ancestry, with whom they would later have a major war, to defend them against the supposed threat of the Zulu king, Cetshwayo.

Seizing on this request as a way to acquire more land for the British Crown and advance their own political aims and careers, Bartle Frere and Chelmsford issued the Zulu king with an ultimatum they knew he could not agree to, which was the permanent disbandment of his armies within 30 days. The king instantly refused, as they knew he must.

And so on January 11, 1879, Lord Frederick Chelmsford led his forces, in three large columns, across the Buffalo River into Zululand. War was officially declared. In their eyes there could be only one outcome.

The Zulu king, Cetshwayo, ruled some 400,000 people with an iron fist, first killing his own brothers to secure the throne. He was the product of a military culture that had terrified all the other African tribes with whom they came into contact. The Zulu social system was built around its army, and from childhood the boys were groomed in large military camps to endure hardship and to sacrifice all for the benefit of their king. Marriage was not allowed until they had proven themselves in battle, and competition between their regiments, Impis, was extremely fierce as everyone vied for the king’s approval and the right to marry.

Although he had an army of more than 40,000 fierce warriors, Cetshwayo was no fool. He had watched the British move along the coast for the preceding years, and he was content to rule in his own little kingdom, which surely contained nothing the white men would want.

However, the whole Zulu culture was founded on its military system. To disband the army was to disband his nation, so as the
imperial troops crossed the river, Cetshwayo sat in his capital, Ulundi, with his Impis, pondering his next move.

Placing himself in charge of the central column of 4,709 troops, 302 wagons and carts, and more than 1,500 transport oxen, Lord Chelmsford, a society soldier with no real military background, was sure of an easy victory. Though warned by South Africans such as Paul Kruger about the Zulu army’s ability to run all day across mountain tops and chew their cowhide shields for food, Chelmsford scoffed at how “undisciplined blacks” with no supply lines could stand up to his well-trained forces containing artillery, cavalry, and even rockets, with a solid bedrock of British soldiers equipped with the latest Martini-Henry repeating rifles.

As the columns moved north, dragging their carts and artillery in unseasonably heavy rains over the gentle hills of Zululand, Chelmsford’s purpose in splitting his forces into three was to bring the Zulu army to battle with any one of the three powerful groups and smash it with one decisive blow.

Unknown to him, that thinking was mirrored by King Cetsh-wayo. Sending several thousand troops to harass the flanking columns as his feints, he sent the main body of his army south toward Chelmsford’s main column with specific instructions to “crush the head of the snake.”

By January 20, moving slowly by their standards to conserve energy, some 25,000 Zulus arrived undetected only 15 miles from where Chelmsford had set up his first base camp at a rocky outcrop on a plain dominated by a large dome-shaped rock called Isandlwana.

After first splitting his forces into three, Chelmsford made the first major mistake of the war: He split them again.

Acting on a tip from scouts who claimed they had seen Zulus to the north, Chelmsford moved half his troops at 2 a.m. on January 22, planning to take the Zulus by surprise and end the war with one blow.

With horse hooves and cartwheels muffled to avoid any noise, his troops marched through the night looking for the Zulu army, supposedly southwest of Siphezi. Incredibly, the Zulu warriors crossed his front without any detection, moving northwest to the unsuspecting camp at Isandlwana.

After searching fruitlessly for hours for his dream battle, a frustrated Lord Chelmsford elected to have lunch with his officers at the
Mangeni Gorge, leaving instructions not to be disturbed. As native porters lit fires and polished the regimental silver he loved to use, some 9 miles to his rear the Zulu army was preparing to inflict the greatest tactical defeat on the British Army in more than 50 years.

For many of the officers traveling with Lord Chelmsford, the expedition so far had been little more than a picnic, riding off during the day to hunt Zululand’s abundant wildlife and then eating it in the evening while sipping the glorious wines they had brought with them.

However, keeping favor with the irritable lord meant not questioning any tactic or decision he made. Chelmsford hated to see his officers think for themselves. One of these thinkers was a General Anthony Durnford, who was in charge of the mounted native auxiliaries, and he was deliberately left behind at the Buffalo River, where he couldn’t play a role in the battles to come. But Chelmsford had second thoughts and later ordered him to Isandlwana so he could keep more of an eye on him. On the morning of January 22 the veteran officer, who had the greatest respect for the Zulu nation, arrived with his cavalry at the base.

Riding into camp, the one-armed general saw the British troops under Henry Pulleine, in a relaxed mood, all believing Chelmsford was winning the war for them away to the north. Immediately the experienced Durnford sensed something was not quite right.

Following his uneasy feeling, he decided to send his mounted troops out in a screen around the camp. The second troop, under lieutenants Law and Roberts, spotted some Zulu boys driving cattle about 5 miles away from the camp. They gave chase, and as the boys disappeared over a ridge they followed them at top speed. Cresting the ridge, they froze in their tracks. Squatting quietly in a valley below them were some 25,000 Zulu warriors. They had found the army they were looking for.

On seeing the imperial troops, the Zulus rose as one and started to flow toward them without any apparent orders; the attack on the camp was about to begin. Chelmsford would have his decisive encounter, but not the result he envisaged.

Without any apparent communication and showing a terrific understanding of the British weaknesses allied with complete mastery of the terrain, the Zulu army, running at top speed, quickly formed the classic bullshead Zulu formation, with two horns of 5,000 war
riors each running off to the flanks to encircle the camp. The head of the bull, some 15,000 strong, advanced straight on at high speed.

So fast was their deployment that the retreating troopers, on horseback, were able to give the camp only a couple minutes’ warning. Surveying the coming onslaught, Pulleine still felt confident. He had more than 800 crack British troops who were already calmly forming familiar lines to deploy their devastating volley fire. Another 800 well-trained auxiliary troops were forming up around them. As his artillery began to fire he felt even more reassurance and security.

As the troops began to fire volley after volley at the advancing Impis, with rockets screaming through the clear blue sky along with the roar of cannons, he soon saw his confidence had been misplaced. The Zulu force, armed only with short stabbing spears (assegais) and shields, kept coming on, and the stretched British lines were beginning to waver.

By mid-afternoon it was all over. More than 1,500 imperial troops lay slaughtered, scattered over the plain; only a handful on horseback finally escaped. Generals Pulleine and Durnford lay together like brothers, stripped like all their men, with their stomachs slashed open to release their spirits to the heavens.

Meanwhile, Chelmsford’s lunch had been disturbed by the rumors of smoke from the direction of the camp. Begrudgingly he sent one of his junior officers to look through a telescope from a small hill. The officer returned to report that he could see nothing significant. Lunch continued.

Later that day, a stunned Chelmsford returned to camp and witnessed an incredible sight: Hundreds of horses, oxen, and cattle lay dead, intermingled with more than 1,500 of his finest troops. Surely by now all the British territories in the south were under attack by the Zulus? He was forced to retreat and regroup.