[5]. Flashman was right that the Zulus would attack Rorke’s Drift, but wrong in supposing that they would invade Natal. Isandhlwana had been the most disastrous battle defeat suffered by British troops against native forces in the nineteenth century—although it was to be matched by the wipe-out of a brigade by Afghan tribesmen at Maiwand a year later—but it had been a costly victory for the Zulus, who were finally beaten at Ulundi in July, 1879.
[6]. For interesting information on Zulu superstitions, see Frazer’s Golden Bough. In fact, Moran was somewhat out of date; the practice of sending twins first in battle appears to have died out earlier in the century, in King Chaka’s time.
[7]. The pursuing Zulus were certainly soldiers of the Udloko regiment, part of the Undi corps who formed the right wing of the impis at Isandhlwana. Their red and white shields were distinctive. The Martini-Henry was a single-shot weapon, but a good rifleman could fire six rounds in half a minute.
[8]. The siege of the little Buffalo River station at Rorke’s Drift began only a few hours after Isandhlwana, and lasted through the night until the following morning. The garrison was about 130 strong, and was commanded by Lieutenant John Chard of the Royal Engineers and Lieutenant Gonville Bromhead of the 24th (Warwickshire) Regiment, largely recruited in Wales, and later renamed the South Wales Borderers. The attacking Zulu force, consisting of the Udloko, Tulwana, and ’Ndluyengwe regiments, was at least 4000 strong. Both sides fought with the utmost bravery from late afternoon until the climax of the battle at midnight, the Zulus trying to break into the perimeter hastily improvised of mealie-bags and biscuit boxes, and being met by the volleys of the defenders' Martini-Henrys. Savage close-quarter fighting took place at the barricades, and in the hospital, which caught fire at about six o’clock, when the wounded had to be evacuated; by midnight the perimeter had shrunk to sixty-five yards in front of the storehouse. Following as it did on the disaster of Isandhlwana, the defence of Rorke’s Drift became, deservedly, a Victorian legend. Seventeen of the defenders died, and at least 400 Zulus. Eleven Victoria Crosses were awarded.
Flashman’s account makes it clear that he and Moran must have reached the Drift about or eight or nine o’clock, while the hospital was still burning, and entered the perimeter after jumping the stone wall and the mealie-bag barricade which had been built to defend the hospital at the western end of the post. The "huge cove" with the red beard was presumably Chaplain George Smith, but Flashman is probably mistaken in describing him as "pistolling", since the Chaplain was foremost in the vital work of carrying ammunition. (See Michael Glover, Rorke’s Drift, 1975, an excellent account of the siege and its background, and other works cited in these Notes.)
[9]. The Times of Monday, February 12, 1894, carried under the name Macmillan a notice of the birth of a boy the previous Saturday; he was subsequently christened Maurice Harold.
[10]. Either Flashman’s memory or his hearing has played him false. Oscar Wilde attended a performance of Pinero’s The Second Mrs Tanqueray at the St James’s in February, 1894, in the company of Aubrey Beardsley, whom he wished to present to Mrs Patrick Campbell. (See The Letters of Oscar Wilde.) His new play, which he mentioned to Selina, would be either An Ideal Husband, which was in manuscript at that time, or The Importance of Being Earnest; both were produced in the following year.
[11]. "Father Oscar". Flashman was needling deliberately; he obviously knew that Wilde was sensitive about being no longer in the first flush of youth, and hated being called "Papa" or "Father". (See Lord Alfred Douglas’s Oscar Wilde and Myself, 1914.)
[12]. W. E. Gladstone resigned as Prime Minister, and retired from politics, on March 3, 1894.
[13]. The appearance of this item in the press establishes the date as March 29, 1894. Elspeth’s serial may have been Under the Red Robe, by Stanley J. Weyman, which appeared in instalments in the Illustrated London News early in this year.
[14]. Elsewhere in his memoirs (see Flash for Freedom!) Flashman has suggested that Sullivan was killed by Charity Spring aboard the Balliol College slave-ship in 1848, during a fight with an American warship; presumably the mate was only badly wounded, and recovered to fall a victim to Moran twenty years later.
[15]. Flashman made reluctant use of an astonishing variety of weaponry during his adventurous life, but although he makes frequent references to Adams revolvers there is no evidence that he had any particularly favourite side-arm. Those listed here appear to have been kept for sentimental rather than for practical reasons. The most interesting item is "the scarred old double-action Bulldog", since it was just such a weapon that he used at Little Big Horn; he had borrowed it from Custer himself, and may even have accidentally shot the General with it in the heat of battle. But that gun he flung away in panic, and the mystery remains—how (and why) did he acquire another like it? Only two of Flashman’s side-arms appear to have survived: his Khyber knife, bequeathed to Mr Paget Morrison, the custodian of his papers, and a Tranter revolver from Cartwright of Norwich, engraved with the owner’s name, now in the possession of Mr Garry James of Los Angeles, California.
[16]. Colonel Palmer’s old age pension proposals of 1894 did in fact exclude anyone convicted of a crime in the previous fifteen years, or of drunkenness in the previous ten.
[17]. In the Army Cup Final played on April 5, 1894, the Black Watch beat the Royal Artillery, 7-2. The Duchess of Connaught, apparently supported by General Flashman, presented the cup.
[18]. Apart from a few minor discrepancies, Flashman’s account of Colonel Moran’s movements and arrest on that Thursday night corroborates the celebrated narrative of Dr Watson, who has described the Colonel’s capture in "The Adventure of the Empty House" (see The Return of Sherlock Holmes, by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle). It will be remembered that Moran was apprehended by Holmes and Watson in the act of trying to murder the former (who had rigged up a dummy to draw his fire); Moran’s motive was revenge (and no doubt fear that Holmes would identify him as the murderer of the Hon. Ronald Adair, whom Moran had killed some days previously).
Flashman; of course, had no inkling of all this at the time, as his story shows. He was not to know that Moran, after retiring from the Indian Army, had turned his uncanny marksmanship to account by becoming a professional assassin in the employ of Holmes’s arch-enemy, Professor Moriarty, or that the Colonel eked out his contract fees by card-sharping, as in the case of Stanger and Adair. After his arrest by Holmes and Watson, Moran was charged with the Adair murder, but presumably escaped the gallows, since Dr Watson was still referring to him as "living" in 1902 ("The Adventure of the Illustrious Client"), and even suggested that he was alive in 1914 ("His Last Bow"). (See The Annotated Sherlock Holmes, volume 2, by William S. Baring-Gould. This distinguished work confirms the date of Moran’s arrest given by Flashman—April 5, 1894.)