As the British tried to wrap up their war against the Zulu in South Africa, further afield the happy sound of a baby being born could be heard in Germany. Not just any baby.

Albert Einstein was born at 11.30 in the morning on March 14, 1879 in Ulm. His birth was not without drama; his family initially worried about his development because the back of his head was unusually large, and his grandmother feared he would have delayed development based on the sound of his cry.

His mother Pauline was deeply concerned when Albert didn't start talking until he was three. Then when he started speaking, he had a habit of repeating sentences to himself, which led the family maid to nickname him "Der Depperte" (the dopey one).

When Albert was five and sick in bed, his father Hermann gave him a magnetic compass. This invisible force fascinated Albert and is often cited as the spark for his lifelong obsession with physics.

A compass is what the British surveyors carried, so too did some Boers of the Wakkerstroom District. The area wasn’t as stable as British Army Lieutenant Colonel Evelyn Wood had supposed. Sure, the hyena of Phongola chief Mbilini — had been killed but the abaQulusi still lurked about their mountains undefeated.

While the British had gone about their war against the Zulu with some zeal in 1879, the Boers of the Transvaal were seething about their territory being summarily annexed by the Empire only two years earlier.

The Boers of Wakkerstroom, east of Volksrus, lived on a frontier and a ledge. The escarpment along this north eastern line intersects with places like Luneburg, Paulpietersburg, Bilanyoni with Swazi territory further towards the rising sun.

June mornings are cold — as cold as the relations between the Boers of Wakkerstroom and local Englishmen. Luneburg was a Lutheran mission station and on the 4th June, the pastor’s son Heinrich Filter was killed there along with six black border policemen. Large groups of Qulisi warriors swept back into the northern Zululand region, scooping up hundreds of cattle and other livestock.

So it was with fury that commander Chelmsford and Wood heard what was going on between the Boers and the Zulu along the Mkhondo River. The two nations were in league against their common imperial enemy. Zulu deputations had visited the bughers and some Boers had even travelled to go and see king Cetshwayo kaMpande. By June reports circulated the there were even more Boers than usual wintering along the border, below the icy escarpment amongst the Zulu imizi of the Phongola.

The fact that they were safe confirmed all suspicions that there was Zulu-Boer collusion. Suspicions were further confirmed when the British found out that the Boers were even acting as guides leading the Zulu impis in their June raids that had been so destructive.
Chelmsford had been putting together a potent column for his return to Zululand after he had relieved Eshowe, and in May he began a slow moving march to Ondini. Ranging in front of his force as it gathered close to Rorke’s Drift for the second major invasion, were his reconnaissance units, scouts and observers.

And one of these observers was the enthusiastic but reckless twenty three year-old Prince Imperial of France, Louis Napoleon. The last hope of the Bonapartist dynasty, serving on Chelmsford’s staff.

He was the only son of Emperor Napoleon the Third, great-nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte. In his first 14 years he had lived the pampered life of a monarch-in-waiting, but that changed in 1870 when his father was deposed after a string of defeats in the Franco-Prussian war. Louis fled to England with his mother Empress Eugenie. Queen Victoria gave them a warm welcome — in 1871 his father was released by the Prussians and joined Eugenie and Louis at a rented mansion in Chislehurst in Kent. A failed attempt to remove a gallstone killed the Emperor n 1873, and Louis ended up in the Royal Military Academy at Woolwich.