Produced by John Bickers; Dagny
CETYWAYO AND HIS WHITE NEIGHBOURS
OR, REMARKS ON RECENT EVENTS IN ZULULAND, NATAL, AND THE TRANSVAAL.
By H. Rider Haggard
First Published 1882.
PREPARER’S NOTE
This text was prepared from an 1882 edition published by
Trubner & Co., Ludgate Hill, London.
“I am told that these men (the Boers) are told to keep on agitating in
this way, for a change of Government in England may give them again
the old order of things. Nothing can show greater ignorance of English
politics than such an idea. I tell you there is no Government--Whig
or Tory, Liberal, Conservative, or Radical--who would dare, under any
circumstances, to give back this country (the Transvaal). They would not
dare, because the English people would not allow them.”--(_Extract
from Speech of Sir Garnet Wolseley, delivered at a Public Banquet in
Pretoria, on the 17th December 1879._)
“There was a still stronger reason than that for not receding (from
the Transvaal); it was impossible to say what calamities such a step
as receding might not cause. . . . For such a risk he could not make
himself responsible. . . . Difficulties with the Zulu and the frontier
tribes would again arise, and looking as they must to South Africa as
a whole, the Government, after a careful consideration of the
question, came to the conclusion that we could not relinquish the
Transvaal.”--(_Extract from Speech of Lord Kimberley in the House of
Lords, 24th May 1880. H. P. D., vol. cclii., p. 208._)
INTRODUCTION
The writer on Colonial Affairs is naturally, to some extent, discouraged
by the knowledge that the subject is an unattractive one to a large
proportion of the reading public. It is difficult to get up anything
beyond a transient interest in the affairs of our Colonial dependencies;
indeed, I believe that the mind of the British public was more
profoundly moved by the exodus of Jumbo, than it would be were one of
them to become the scene of some startling catastrophe. This is the
more curious, inasmuch as, putting aside all sentimental considerations,
which indeed seem to be out of harmony with the age we live in: the
trade done, even with such comparatively insignificant colonies as our
South African possessions, amounts to a value of many millions of pounds
sterling per annum. Now, as the preachers of the new gospel that hails
from Birmingham and Northampton have frequently told us, trade is
the life-blood of England, and must be fostered at any price. It is
therefore surprising that, looking on them in the light of a commercial
speculation, in which aspect (saith the preacher) they are alone
worthy of notice, a keener interest is not taken in the well-being and
development of the Colonies. We have only to reflect to see how great
are the advantages that the Mother Country derives from the possession
of her Colonial Empire; including, as they do, a home for her surplus
children, a vast and varied market for her productions, and a wealth of
old-fashioned loyalty and deep attachment to the Old Country--“home,”
as it is always called--which, even if it is out of date, might prove
useful on emergency. It seems therefore, almost a pity that some Right
Honourable Gentlemen and their followers should adopt the tone they do
with reference to the Colonies. After all, there is an odd shuffling of
the cards going on now in England; and great as she is, her future looks
by no means sunny. Events in these latter days develop themselves very
quickly; and though the idea may, at the present moment, seem absurd,
surely it is possible that, what between the rapid spread of Radical
ideas, the enmity of Ireland, the importation of foreign produce, and
the competition of foreign trade, to say nothing of all the unforeseen
accidents and risks of the future, the Englishmen of, say, two
generations hence, may not find their country in her present proud
position. Perhaps, and stranger things have happened in the history of
the world, she may by that time be under the protection of those very
Colonies for which their forefathers had such small affection.
The position of South Africa with reference to the Mother Country
is somewhat different to that of her sister Colonies, in that she is
regarded, not so much with apathy tinged with dislike, as with downright
disgust. This feeling has its foundation in the many troubles and
expenses in which this country has been recently involved, through local
complications in the Cape, Zululand, and the Transvaal: and indeed is
little to be wondered at. But, whilst a large portion of the press has
united with a powerful party of politicians in directing a continuous
stream of abuse on to the heads of the white inhabitants of South
Africa, whom they do not scruple to accuse of having created the recent
disturbances in order to reap a money profit from them: it does not
appear to have struck anybody that the real root of this crop of
troubles might, after all, be growing nearer home. The truth of the
matter is, that native and other problems in South Africa have, till
quite lately, been left to take their chance, and solve themselves as
best they might; except when they have, in a casual manner, been made
the _corpus vile_ of some political experiment. It was during this long
period of inaction, when each difficulty--such as the native question in
Natal--was staved off to be dealt with by the next Government, that the
seed was sown of which we are at present reaping the fruit. In addition
to this, matters have recently been complicated by the elevation of
South African affairs to the dignity of an English party question.
Thus, the Transvaal Annexation was made use of as a war-cry in the
last general election, a Boer rebellion was thereby encouraged, which
resulted in a complete reversal of our previous policy.
Now, if there is any country dependent on England that requires the
application to the conduct of its affairs of a firm, considered, and
consistent policy, that country is South Africa. Boers and Natives are
quite incapable of realising the political necessities of any of
our parties, or of understanding why their true interests should be
sacrificed in order to minister to those necessities. It is our wavering
and uncertain policy, as applied to peoples, who look upon every
hesitating step as a sign of fear and failing dominion, that, in
conjunction with previous postponement and neglect, has really caused
our troubles in South Africa. For so long as the affairs of that
country are influenced by amateurs and sentimentalists, who have no real
interest in it, and whose knowledge of its circumstances and conditions
of life is gleaned from a few blue-books, superficially got up to enable
the reader to indite theoretical articles to the “Nineteenth Century,”
or deliver inaccurate speeches in the House of Commons--for so long will
those troubles continue.
If I may venture to make a suggestion, the affairs of South Africa
should be controlled by a Board or Council, like that which formerly
governed India, composed of moderate members of both parties, with an
admixture of men possessing practical knowledge of the country. I do not
know if any such arrangement would be possible under our constitution,
but the present system of government, by which the control of savage
races fluctuates in obedience of every variation of English party
politics, is most mischievous in its results.
The public, however, is somewhat tired of South Africa, and the reader
may, perhaps, wonder why he should be troubled with more literature on
the subject. I can assure him that these pages are not written in order
to give me an opportunity of airing my individual experiences or ideas.
Their object is shortly--(1.) To give a true history of the events
attendant on the Annexation of the Transvaal, which act has so
frequently been assigned to the most unworthy motives, and has never
yet been fairly described by any one who was in a position to know
the facts; (2.) To throw as much publicity as possible on the present
disgraceful state of Zululand, resulting from our recent settlement in
that country; (3.) To show all interested in the Kafir races what has
been the character of our recent surrender in the Transvaal, and what
its effect will be on our abandoned native subjects living in that
country.
It may, perhaps, seem an odd statement, considering that I have lived
in various parts of South Africa for about six years, and have, perhaps,
enjoyed exceptional advantage in forming my opinions, when I say that my
chief fear in publishing the present volume, is lest my knowledge of my
subject in all its bearings should not be really equal to the task. It
is, I know, the fashion to treat South African difficulties as being
simple of solution. Thus it only took Sir Garnet Wolseley a few weeks
to understand the whole position of Zulu affairs, and to execute his
memorable settlement of that country: whilst eminent writers appear to
be able, in scampering from Durban _via_ Kimberley to Cape Town in a
post-cart, to form decided opinions upon every important question
in South Africa. The power of thus rapidly assimilating intricate
knowledge, and of seeing straight through a wall whilst ordinary
individuals are still criticising the bricks, is no doubt one of the
peculiar privileges of genius--which is, perhaps fortunately for South
Africa--rare. To the common run of mind, however, the difficulty of
forming a sound and accurate judgment on the interlacing problems that
disclose themselves to the student of the politics of South-Eastern
Africa, is exceedingly great and the work of years.
But although it is by no means perfect, I think that my knowledge of
these problems and of their imminent issues is sufficiently intimate
to justify me in making a prophecy--namely, that unless the native and
other questions of South-Eastern Africa are treated with more honest
intelligence, and on a more settled plan than it has hitherto been
thought necessary to apply to them, the British taxpayer will find that
he has _by no means_ heard the last of that country and its wars.
There is one more point to which, although it hardly comes within the
scope of this volume, I have made some allusion, and which I venture to
suggest deserves the consideration of thinking Englishmen. I refer to
the question of the desirability of allowing the Dutch in South Africa,
who are already numerically the strongest, to continue to advance with
such rapid strides towards political supremacy. That the object of
this party is to reduce Englishmen and English ideas to a subordinate
position in the State, if not actually to rid itself of our rule and
establish a republic, there is no manner of doubt. Indeed, there exists
a powerful organisation, the Africander Bond, which has its headquarters
in the Cape, and openly devotes its energies to forwarding these ends,
by offering a sturdy opposition to the introduction of English emigrants
and the use of the English language, whilst striving in every way to
excite class prejudices and embitter the already strained relations
between Englishman and Boer. In considering this question, it is as well
not to lose sight of the fact that the Dutch are as a body, at heart
hostile to our rule, chiefly because they cannot tolerate our lenient
behaviour to the native races. Should they by any chance cease to be the
subjects of England, they will, I believe, become her open enemies. This
of itself would be comparatively unimportant, were it not for the fact
that, in the event of the blocking of the Suez Canal, it would be, to
say the least, inconvenient that the Cape should be in the hands of a
hostile population.
In conclusion, I wish to state that this book is not written for any
party purpose. I have tried to describe a state of affairs which has for
the most part come under my own observation, and events in which I have
been interested, and at times engaged. That the naked truths of such
a business as the Transvaal surrender, or of the present condition of
Zululand, are unpleasant reading for an Englishman, there is no doubt;
but, so far as these pages are concerned, they owe none of their
ugliness to undue colouring or political bias.
Windham Club, St. James’ Square, June 1882.
CETYWAYO AND HIS WHITE NEIGHBOURS
CETYWAYO AND THE ZULU SETTLEMENT
_Claims of affairs of Zululand to attention--Proposed visit of
Cetywayo to England--Chaka--His method of government--His death--
Dingaan--Panda--Battle of the Tugela--John Dunn--Nomination of
Cetywayo--His coronation--His lady advocates--Their attacks on
officials--Was Cetywayo bloodthirsty?--Cause of the Zulu war--Zulu
military system--States of feeling amongst the Zulus previous to
the war--Cetywayo’s position--His enemies--His intentions on the
Transvaal--Their frustration by Sir T. Shepstone--Cetywayo’s interview
with Mr. Fynney--His opinion of the Boers--The annexation in connection
with the Zulu war--The Natal colonists and the Zulu war--Sir Bartle
Frere--The Zulu war--Cetywayo’s half-heartedness--Sir Garnet Wolseley’s
settlement--Careless selection of chiefs--The Sitimela plot--Chief
John Dunn--Appointment of Mr. Osborn as British Resident--His difficult
position--Folly and cruelty of our settlement--Disappointment of
the Zulus--Object and result of settlement--Slaughter in
Zululand--Cetywayo’s son--Necessity of proper settlement of
Zululand--Should Cetywayo be restored?_
Zululand and the Zulu settlement still continue to receive some
attention from the home public, partly because those responsible for the
conduct of affairs are not quite at ease about it, and partly because of
the agitation in this country for the restoration of Cetywayo.
There is no doubt that the present state of affairs in Zululand is a
subject worthy of close consideration, not only by those officially
connected with them, but by the public at large. Nobody, either at
home or in the colonies, wishes to see another Zulu war, or anything
approaching to it. Unless, however, the affairs of Zululand receive a
little more attention, and are superintended with a little more humanity
and intelligence than they are at present, the public will sooner or
later be startled by some fresh catastrophe. Then will follow the usual
outcry, and the disturbance will be attributed to every cause under the
sun except the right one--want of common precautions.
The Zulu question is a very large one, and I only propose discussing
so much of it as necessary to the proper consideration of the proposed
restoration of Cetywayo to his throne.
The king is now coming to England,[*] where he will doubtless make
a very good impression, since his appearance is dignified, and
his manners, as is common among Zulus of high rank, are those of
a gentleman. It is probable that his visit will lead to a popular
agitation in his favour, and very possibly to an attempt on the part
of the English Government to reinstate him in his kingdom. Already Lady
Florence Dixie waves his banner, and informs the public through the
columns of the newspapers how good, how big, and how beautiful he is,
and “F. W. G. X.” describes in enthusiastic terms his pearl-like teeth.
But as there are interests involved in the question of his reinstatement
which are, I think, more important than Cetywayo’s personal proportions
of mind or body, and as the results of such a step would necessarily be
very marked and far-reaching, it is as well to try and understand the
matter in all its bearing before anything is done.
[*] Since the above was written the Government have at the
last moment decided to postpone Cetywayo’s visit to this
country, chiefly on account of the political capital which
was being made out of the event by agitators in Zululand.
The project of bringing the king to England does not,
however, appear to have been abandoned.
There has been a great deal of special pleading about Cetywayo. Some
writers, swayed by sentiment, and that spirit of partisanship that the
sight of royalty in distress always excites, whitewash him in such a
persistent manner that their readers are left under the impression that
the ex-king is a model of injured innocence and virtue. Others again,
for political reasons, paint him very black, and predict that
his restoration would result in the destruction, or at the least,
disorganisation, of our South African empire. The truth in this, as in
the majority of political controversies, lies somewhere between these
two extremes, though it is difficult to say exactly where.
To understand the position of Cetywayo both with reference to his
subjects and the English Government, it will be necessary to touch,
though briefly, on the history of Zululand since it became a nation, and
also on the principal events of the ex-king’s reign.
Chaka, Cetywayo’s great uncle, was the first Zulu king, and doubtless
one of the most remarkable men that has ever filled a throne since the
days of the Pharaohs. When he came to his chieftainship, about 1813, the
Zulu people consisted of a single small tribe; when his throne became
vacant in 1828, their name had become a living terror, and they were
the greatest Black power in South Africa. The invincible armies of this
African Attila had swept north and south, east and west, had slaughtered
more than a million human beings, and added vast tracts of country to
his dominions. Wherever his warriors went, the blood of men, women, and
children was poured out without stay or stint; indeed he reigned like a
visible Death, the presiding genius of a saturnalia of slaughter.
His methods of government and warfare were peculiar and somewhat
drastic, but most effective. As he conquered a tribe, he enrolled its
remnants in his army, so that they might in their turn help to conquer
others. He armed his regiments with the short stabbing assegai, instead
of the throwing assegai which they had been accustomed to use, and kept
them subject to an iron discipline. If a man was observed to show the
slightest hesitation about coming to close quarters with the enemy,
he was executed as soon as the fight was over. If a regiment had the
misfortune to be defeated, whether by its own fault or not, it would on
its return to headquarters find that a goodly proportion of the wives
and children belonging to it had been beaten to death by Chaka’s orders,
and that he was waiting their arrival to complete his vengeance by
dashing out their brains. The result was, that though Chaka’s armies
were occasionally annihilated, they were rarely defeated, and they never
ran away. I will not enter in the history of his numerous cruelties, and
indeed they are not edifying. Amongst other things, like Nero, he killed
his own mother, and then caused several persons to be executed because
they did not show sufficient sorrow at her death.
At length, in 1828, he too suffered the fate he had meted out to so
many, and was killed by his brothers, Dingaan and Umhlangan, by the
hands of one Umbopa. He was murdered in his hut, and as his life passed
out of him he is reported to have addressed these words to his brothers,
who were watching his end: “What! do you stab me, my brothers, dogs of
mine own house, whom I have fed? You hope to be kings; but though you do
kill me, think not that your line shall reign for long. I tell you that
I hear the sound of the feet of the great white people, and that this
land shall be trodden by them.” He then expired, but his last words have
always been looked upon as a prophecy by the Zulus, and indeed they have
been partly fulfilled.
Having in his turn killed Umhlangan, his brother by blood and in crime,
Dingaan took possession of the throne. He was less pronounced than
Chaka in his foreign policy, though he seems to have kept up the family
reputation as regards domestic affairs. It was he who, influenced,
perhaps, by Chaka’s dying prophecy about white men, massacred Retief,
the Boer leader, and his fifty followers, in the most treacherous
manner, and then falling on the emigrant Boers in Natal, murdered men,
women, and children to the number of nearly six hundred. There seems,
however, to have been but little love lost between any of the sons of
Usengangacona (the father of Chaka, Dingaan, Umhlangan, and Panda),
for in due course Panda, his brother, conspired with the Boers against
Dingaan, and overthrew him with their assistance. Dingaan fled, and was
shortly afterwards murdered in Swaziland, and Panda ascended the throne
in 1840.
Panda was a man of different character to the remainder of his race, and
seems to have been well content to reign in peace, only killing enough
people to keep up his authority. Two of his sons, Umbelazi and Cetywayo,
of whom Umbelazi was the elder and Panda’s favourite, began, as their
father grew old, to quarrel about the succession to the crown. On the
question being referred to Panda, he is reported to have remarked that
when two young cocks quarrelled the best thing they could do was to
fight it out. Acting on this hint, each prince collected his forces,
Panda sending down one of his favourite regiments to help Umbelazi. The
fight took place in 1856 on the banks of the Tugela. A friend of the
writer, happening to be on the Natal side of the river the day before
the battle, and knowing it was going to take place, swam his horse
across in the darkness, taking his chance of the alligators, and hid in
some bush on a hillock commanding the battlefield. It was a hazardous
proceeding, but the sight repaid the risk, though he describes it as
very awful, more especially when the regiment of veterans sent by Panda
joined in the fray. It came up at the charge, between two and three
thousand strong, and was met near his hiding-place by one of Cetywayo’s
young regiments. The noise of the clash of their shields was like the
roar of the sea, but the old regiment, after a struggle in which men
fell thick and fast, annihilated the other, and passed on with thinned
ranks. Another of Cetywayo’s regiments took the place of the one that
had been destroyed, and this time the combat was fierce and long, till
victory again declared for the veterans’ spears. But they had brought it
dear, and were in no position to continue their charge; so the leaders
of that brave battalion formed its remnants into a ring, and, like the
Scotch at Flodden--
“The stubborn spearmen still made good
The dark, impenetrable wood;
Each stepping where his comrade stood
The instant that he fell,”
till there were none left to fall. The ground around them was piled with
dead.
But this gallant charge availed Umbelazi but little, and by degrees
Cetywayo’s forces pressed his men back to the banks of the Tugela, and
finally into it. Thousands fell upon the field and thousands perished in
the river. When my friend swam back that night, he had nothing to
fear from the alligators: they were too well fed. Umbelazi died on the
battlefield of a broken heart, at least it is said that no wound could
be found on his person. He probably expired in a fit brought on by
anxiety of mind and fatigue. A curious story is told of Cetywayo with
reference to his brother’s death. After the battle was over a Zulu
from one of his own regiments presented himself before him with many
salutations, saying, “O prince! now canst thou sleep in peace, for
Umbelazi is dead.” “How knowest thou that he is dead?” said Cetywayo.
“Because I slew him with my own hand,” replied the Zulu. “Thou dog!”
said the prince, “thou hast dared to lift thy hand against the blood
royal, and now thou makest it a matter of boasting. Wast thou not
afraid? By Chaka’s head thou shalt have thy reward. Lead him away.” And
the Zulu, who was but lying after all, having possessed himself of
the bracelets off the dead prince’s body, was instantly executed. The
probability is that Cetywayo acted thus more from motives of policy than
from affection to his brother, whom indeed he hoped to destroy. It did
not do to make too light of the death of an important prince: Umbelazi’s
fate to-day might be Cetywayo’s fate to-morrow. This story bears a
really remarkable resemblance to that of the young man who slew Saul,
the Lord’s anointed, and suffered death on account thereof at the hands
of David.
This battle is also memorable as being the occasion of the first public
appearance of Mr. John Dunn, now the most important chief in Zululand,
and, be it understood, the unknown quantity in all future transactions
in that country. At that time Dunn was a retainer of Umbelazi’s, and
fought on his side in the Tugela battle. After the fight, however,
he went over to Cetywayo and became his man. From that time till the
outbreak of the Zulu war he remained in Zululand as adviser to Cetywayo,
agent for the Natal Government, and purveyor of firearms to the nation
at large. As soon as Cetywayo got into trouble with the Imperial
Government, Dunn, like a prudent man, deserted him and came over to
us. In reward Sir Garnet Wolseley advanced him to the most important
chieftainship in Zululand, which he hopes to make a stepping-stone to
the vacant throne. His advice was largely followed by Sir Garnet in
the bestowal of the other chieftainships, and was naturally not quite
disinterested. He has already publicly announced his intention of
resisting the return of the king, his old master, by force of arms,
should the Government attempt to reinstate him.
A period of sixteen years elapsed before Cetywayo reaped the fruits of
the battle of the Tugela by succeeding to the throne on the death of his
father, Panda, the only Zulu monarch who has as yet come to his end by
natural causes.
In 1861, however, Cetywayo was, at the instance of the Natal Government,
formally nominated heir to the throne by Mr. Shepstone, it being
thought better that a fixed succession should be established with the
concurrence of the Natal Government than that matters should be left
to take their chance on Panda’s death. Mr. Shepstone accomplished his
mission successfully, though at great personal risk. For some unknown
reason, Cetywayo, who was blown up with pride, was at first adverse
to being thus nominated, and came down to the royal kraal with three
thousand armed followers, meaning, it would see, to kill Mr. Shepstone,
whom he had never before met. Panda, the old king, had an inkling of
what was to happen, but was powerless to control his son, so he confined
himself to addressing the assembled multitude in what I have heard Sir
Theophilus Shepstone say was the most eloquent and touching speech he
ever listened to, the subject being the duties of hospitality. He did
not at the time know how nearly the speech concerned him, or that its
object was to preserve his life. This, however, soon became manifest
when, exception being taken to some breech of etiquette by one of his
servants, he was surrounded by a mob of shouting savages, whose evident
object was to put an end to him and those with him. For two hours he
remained sitting there, expecting that every moment would be his
last, but showing not the slightest emotion, till at length he got an
opportunity of speaking, when he rose and said, “I know that you mean to
kill me; it is an easy thing to do; but I tell you Zulus, that for every
drop of my blood that falls to the ground, a hundred men will come
out of the sea yonder, from the country of which Natal is one of the
cattle-kraals, and will bitterly avenge me.” As he spoke he turned
and pointed towards the ocean, and so intense was the excitement that
animated it, that the whole great multitude turned with him and stared
towards the horizon, as though they expected to see the long lines of
avengers creeping across the plains. Silence followed his speech; his
imperturbability and his well-timed address had saved his life. From
that day his name was a power in the land.[*]
[*] A very good description of this scene was published in
the _London Quarterly Review_ in 1878. The following is an
extract:
“In the centre of those infuriated savages he (Mr.
Shepstone) sat for more than two hours outwardly calm,
giving confidence to his solitary European companion by his
own quietness, only once saying, ‘Why, Jem, you’re afraid,’
and imposing restraint on his native attendants. Then, when
they had shouted, as Cetywayo himself said in our hearing,
‘till their throats were so sore that they could shout no
more,’ they departed. But Sompseu (Mr. Shepstone) had
conquered. Cetywayo, in describing the scene to us and our
companion on a visit to him a short time afterwards, said,
‘Sompseu is a great man: no man but he could have come
through that day alive.’ Similar testimony we have had from
some of the Zulu assailants, from the native attendants, and
the companion above mentioned. Next morning Cetywayo humbly
begged an interview, which was not granted but on terms of
unqualified submission. From that day Cetywayo has submitted
to British control in the measure in which it has been
exercised, and has been profuse in his expressions of
respect and submission to Mr. T. Shepstone; but in his
heart, as occasional acts and speeches show, he writhes
under the restraint, and bitterly hates the man who imposed
it.”
It was on this occasion that a curious incident occurred which
afterwards became of importance. Among the Zulus there exists a certain
salute, “Bayete,” which it is the peculiar and exclusive privilege of
Zulu royalty to receive. The word means, or is supposed to mean, “Let
us bring tribute.” On Mr. Shepstone’s visit the point was raised by the
Zulu lawyers as to what salute he should receive. It was not consistent
with their ideas that the nominator of their future king should be
greeted with any salute inferior to the Bayete, and this, as plain Mr.
Shepstone, it was impossible to give him. The difficulty was obvious,
but the Zulu mind proved equal to it. He was solemnly announced to be
a Zulu king, and to stand in the place of the great founder of their
nation, Chaka. Who was so fit to proclaim the successor to the throne
as the great predecessor of the prince proclaimed? To us this seems a
strange, not to say ludicrous, way of settling a difficulty, but there
was nothing in it repugnant to Zulu ideas. Odd as it was, it invested
Mr. Shepstone with all the attributes of a Zulu king, such as the power
to make laws, order executions, &c., and those attributes in the eyes of
Zulus he still retains.
In 1873 messengers came down from Zululand to the Natal Government,
bringing with them the “king’s head,” that is, a complimentary present
of oxen, announcing the death of Panda. “The nation,” they said, “was
wandering; it wanders and wanders, and wanders again;” the spirit of
the king had departed from them; his words had ceased, and “none
but children were left.” The message ended with a request that Mr.
Shepstone, as Cetywayo’s “father,” should come and instal him on the
throne. A month or two afterwards there came another message, again
requesting his attendance; and on the request being refused by the
Lieutenant-Governor of Natal, there came a third message, to which the
Natal Government returned a favourable answer.
Accordingly Mr. Shepstone proceeded to Zululand, and on the 3rd
September 1873 proclaimed Cetywayo king with all due pomp and ceremony.
It was on this occasion that, in the presence of, and with the
enthusiastic assent of, both king and people, Mr. Shepstone, “standing
in the place of Cetywayo’s father, and so representing the nation,”
enunciated the four following articles, with a view to putting an end to
the continual slaughter that darkens the history of Zululand:--
1. That the indiscriminate shedding of blood shall cease in the land.
2. That no Zulu shall be condemned without open trial, and the public
examination of witnesses for and against, and that he shall have a right
to appeal to the king.
3. That no Zulu’s life shall be taken without the previous knowledge and
consent of the king, after such trial has taken place, and the right of
appeal has been allowed to be exercised.
4. That for minor crimes the loss of property, all or a portion, shall
be substituted for the punishment of death.
Nobody will deny that these were admirable regulations, and that they
were received as such at the time by the Zulu king and people. But there
is no doubt that their ready acceptance by the king was a sacrifice to
his desire to please “his father Sompseu” (Mr. Shepstone) and the Natal
Government, with both of which he was particularly anxious to be on
good terms. He has never adhered to these coronation regulations, or
promises, as they have been called, and the probability is that he
never intended to adhere to them. However this may be, I must say that
personally I have been unable to share the views of those who see in
the breach of these so-called promises a justification of the Zulu war.
After all, what do they amount to, and what guarantee was there for
their fulfilment? They merely represent a very laudable attempt on the
part of the Natal Government to keep a restraining hand on Zulu cruelty,
and to draw the bonds of friendship as tight as the idiosyncrasies of
a savage state would allow. The Government of Natal had no right to
dictate the terms to a Zulu king on which he was to hold his throne. The
Zulu nation was an independent nation, and had never been conquered or
annexed by Natal. If the Government of that colony was able by friendly
negotiation to put a stop to Zulu slaughter, it was a matter for
congratulation on humanitarian grounds; but it is difficult to follow
the argument that because it was not able, or was only partially able,
to do so, therefore England was justified in making war on the Zulus.
On the other hand, it is perfectly ludicrous to observe the way in which
Cetywayo’s advocates overshoot the mark in arguing this and similar
points; especially his lady advocates, whose writings upon these
subjects bear about the same resemblance to the truth that the speech to
the jury by the counsel for the defence in a hopeless murder case does
to the summing up of the judge. Having demonstrated that the engagements
entered into by Cetywayo meant nothing, they will proceed to show that,
even if they did, cold-blooded murder, when perpetrated by a black
paragon like Cetywayo, does not amount to a great offence. In the mouths
of these gentle apologists for slaughter, massacre masquerades under the
name of “executions,” and is excused on the plea of being, “after all,”
only the enforcement of “an old custom.” Again, the employment of
such phrases, in a solemn answer to a remonstrance from the
Lieutenant-Governor of Natal, as “I do kill; but do not consider that
I have done anything yet in the way of killing. . . . I have not yet
begun; I have yet to kill,” are shown to mean nothing at all, and to be
“nothing more than the mere irritation of the moment.”[*] Perhaps those
of Cetywayo’s subjects who suffered on account of this mere momentary
irritation took a more serious view of it. It is but fair to the
particular authority from whom I quote (Miss Colenso’s “History of the
Zulu War,” pp. 230-231) to state that she considers this reply from
the “usually courteous and respectful king” as “no doubt petulant and
wanting in due respect.” Considering that the message in question (which
can be read in the footnote) was a point-blank defiance of Sir Henry
Bulwer, admitting that there had been slaughter, but that it was nothing
compared to what was coming, most people will not think Miss Colenso’s
description of it too strong.
[*] The following is the text of the message:--
“Did I ever tell Mr. Shepstone I would not kill? Did he tell
the white people that I made such an arrangement? Because if
he did he has deceived them. I do kill; but do not consider
that I have done anything yet in the way of killing. Why do
the white people start at nothing? I have not yet begun; I
have yet to kill; it is the custom of our nation, and I
shall not depart from it. Why does the Governor of Natal
speak to me about my laws? Do I go to Natal and dictate to
him about his laws? I shall not agree to any laws or rules
from Natal, and by doing so throw the large kraal which I
govern into the water. My people will not listen unless they
are killed; and while wishing to be friends with the
English, I do not agree to give my people over to be
governed by laws sent to me by them. Have I not asked the
English to allow me to wash my spears since the death of my
father ‘Umpandi,’ and they have kept playing with me all
this time, treating me like a child? Go back and tell the
English that I shall now act on my own account, and if they
wish me to agree to their laws, I shall leave and become a
wanderer; but before I go it will be seen, as I shall not go
without having acted. Go back and tell the white men this,
and let them hear it well. The Governor of Natal and I are
equal; he is Governor of Natal, and I am Governor here.”
To admit that the Zulu king has the right to kill as many of his
subjects as he chooses, so long as they will tolerate being killed, is
one thing, but it is certainly surprising to find educated Europeans
adopting a line of defence of these proceedings on his behalf that
amounts to a virtual expression of approval, or at least of easy
toleration. Has philanthropy a deadening effect on the moral sense, that
the people who constitute themselves champions for the unfortunate Zulu
king and the oppressed Boers cannot get on to their hobbies without
becoming blind to the difference between right and wrong? Really an
examination of the utterances of these champions of oppressed innocence
would almost lead one to that conclusion. On the one hand they suppress
and explain away facts, and on the other supply their want of argument
by reckless accusations and vicious attacks on the probity of such
of their fellow-Englishmen, especially if in office, as have had the
misfortune to pursue a course of action or to express opinions not
pleasing to them or their proteges. For instance, an innocent and
unenlightened reader of the very interesting work from which I have just
quoted probably lays it down with the conviction that both Sir Bartle
Frere and Sir Theophilus Shepstone are very wicked men and full of bad
motives, and will wonder how a civilised Government could employ such
monsters of bloodthirsty duplicity. As he proceeds he will also find
that there is not much to be said for the characters of either Sir
Garnet Wolseley or Lord Chelmsford; whilst as regards such small fry as
Mr. John Shepstone, the present Secretary of Native Affairs in Natal,
after passing through Miss Colenso’s mill their reputations come out
literally in rags and tatters. He will be shocked to find that not only
did one and all of these gentlemen make gross errors of judgment, but,
trusted and distinguished servants of their country as they are, they
were one and all actuated by dark personal motives that will not bear
examination.
Heaven help the members of the Shepstone family when they fall into the
hands of the gentler but more enthusiastic sex, for Miss Colenso is not
their only foe. In a recent publication called a “Defence of Zululand
and its Kings,” Lady Florence Dixie gibbets Mr. Henrique Shepstone, and
points him out to be execrated by a Cetywayo-worshipping public, because
the ex-king is to be sent to England in his charge; when, according to
Lady Dixie, he will certainly be scoundrel enough to misinterpret all
that Cetywayo says for his own ends, and will thereby inflict a
“cruel wrong” upon him, and render his visit to England “perfectly
meaningless.” Perhaps it has never occurred to Lady Dixie that this is a
very serious charge to bring against an honourable man, whose reputation
is probably as dear to him as the advancement of Cetywayo’s cause is to
her. It is all very well to be enthusiastic, but ladies should remember
that there are other people in the world to be considered beside
Cetywayo.
As regards the question of Cetywayo’s bloodthirstiness, which is so
strenuously denied by his apologists, I cannot say that a careful
study of the blue books bearing on the subject brings me to the same
conclusion. It is true that there is not much information on the point,
for the obvious reason that the history of slaughters in Zululand in the
vast majority of cases only reached Natal in the form of rumours,
which nobody thought it worth while to report. There were no newspaper
correspondents in Zululand. There is not, however, any doubt that
Cetywayo was in the habit of killing large numbers of people; indeed it
was a matter of the commonest notoriety; nor, as will be seen from the
message I have transcribed, did he himself deny it, when, being angry,
he spoke the truth. At the same time that this message was sent, we
find Mr. Osborn, then resident magistrate at Newcastle in Natal, who is
certainly not given to exaggeration, writing to the Secretary for Native
Affairs thus:--“From all I have been able to learn, Cetywayo’s conduct
has been, and continues to be, disgraceful. He is putting people to
death in a shameful manner, especially girls. The dead bodies are
placed by his order in the principal paths, especially where the paths
intersect each other (cross roads). A few of the parents of the young
people so killed buried the bodies, and thus brought Cetywayo’s wrath
on themselves, resulting not only on their own death, but destruction
of the whole family. . . . It is really terrible that such horrible
savagery could take place on our own borders. . . . Uhamu reproved
Cetywayo the other day, reminded him of his promises to Mr. Shepstone,
and begged him to spare the people. This advice, as could be expected,
was not relished.”
Again, Mr. Fynney, in his report of his visit to Zululand in 1877,
states that though the king and his “indunas” (councillors) denied that
men were killed without trial, the people told a very different
tale. Thus he says, “In every instance, where I had so far gained the
confidence of the Zulus as to cause them to speak freely, was I assured
of the truthfulness of the statement that the king, Cetywayo, caused his
people to be put to death in great numbers; and when I remarked that of
course he did so after a fair and proper trial, in some cases my remark
was greeted with a suppressed laugh or a smile. Some remarked, ‘Yes,
a trial of bullets;’ others, ‘Yes, we get a trial, but that means
surrounding the kraal at daybreak and shooting us down like cattle.’
One asked me what the Government in Natal intended doing, or what was
thought in Natal about the killing, saying, ‘It was not in the night
that Sompseu spoke, but in the sunshine; the king was not alone, but his
people were around him, and the ears of all Zululand heard these words,
and the hearts of all Zulus were joyful, and in gladness they lifted up
their hands saying: The mouth of our white father has spoken good words;
he has cautioned his child in the presence of his people, and a good sun
has risen this day over Zululand! How is it now? Has the king listened?
Does he hold fast those words? No! not one. The promises he made are
all broken. What does Sompseu say to this? You should dine at my kraal
yonder for a few days, and see the izizi (cattle and other property of
people who have been killed) pass, and you would then see with your own
eyes how a case is tried.’” Farther on Mr. Fynney says, “When a charge
is made against a Zulu, the question is generally asked, ‘Has he any
cattle?’ and if answered in the affirmative, there is little chance of
escape. Instances of killing occurred while I was in Zululand, and to
my knowledge no trial was allowed. An armed party was despatched on the
morning I left Ondine, and, as I was informed, to kill.”
There is no reason to suppose that Mr. Fynney was in any way prejudiced
in making these remarks; on the contrary, he was simply carrying out
an official mission, and reporting for the general information of the
Governments of Natal and the Transvaal. It is, however, noticeable that
neither these nor similar passages are ever alluded to by Cetywayo’s
advocates, whose object seems to be rather to suppress the truth than to
put it fairly before the public, if by such suppression they think they
can advance the cause of the ex-king.
The whole matter of Cetywayo’s private policy, however, appears to me
to be very much beside the question. Whether or no he slaughtered his
oppressed subjects in bygone years, which there is no doubt he did, is
not our affair, since we were not then, as we are now, responsible for
the good government of Zululand; and seeing the amount of slaughter
that goes on under our protectorate, it ill becomes us to rake up these
things against Cetywayo. What we have to consider is his foreign policy,
not the domestic details of his government.[*]
[*] A gentleman, who has recently returned from travelling
in Zululand, relates the following story as nearly as
possible in the words in which it was told to him by a well-
known hunter in Zululand, Piet Hogg by name, now residing
near Dundee on the Zulu border. The story is a curious one
as illustrative of Zulu character, and scarcely represents
Cetywayo in as amiable a light as one might wish. Piet Hogg
and my informant were one day talking about the king when
the former said, “I was hunting and trading in Zululand, and
was at a military kraal occupied by Cetywayo, where I saw a
Basuto who had been engaged by the king to instruct his
people in building houses, that were to be _square_ instead
of circular (as are all Zulu buildings), for which his pay
was to be thirty head of cattle. The Basuto came to Cetywayo
in my presence, and said that the square buildings were
made; he now wished to have his thirty head of cattle and to
depart. Cetywayo having obtained what he required, began to
think the man overpaid, so said, ‘I have observed that you
like ---- (a Zulu woman belonging to the kraal); suppose you
take her instead of the thirty head of cattle.’ Now this was
a very bad bargain for the Basuto, as the woman was not
worth more, in Zulu estimation, than ten head of cattle; but
the Basuto, knowing with whom he had to deal, thought it
might be better to comply with the suggestion rather than
insist upon his rights, and asked to be allowed till the
next morning to consider the proposal. After he had been
dismissed on this understanding, Cetywayo sent for the
woman, and accused her of misconduct with the Basuto, the
punishment of which, if proved, would be death. She denied
this vehemently, with protestations and tears. He insisted,
but, looking up at a tree almost denuded of leaves which
grew close by, said, significantly, ‘Take care that not a
leaf remains on that tree by the morning.’ The woman
understood the metaphor, and in an hour or two, aided by
other strapping Zulu females, attacked the unfortunate
Basuto and killed him with clubs. But Cetywayo having thus,
like the monkey in the fable, employed a cat’s paw to do his
dirty work, began to think the Basuto’s untimely death might
have an ugly appearance in my eyes, so gave orders in my
presence that, as a punishment, six of the women who had
killed the Basuto should also be put to death. This was too
much for me, knowing as I did, all that had passed. I
reproached Cetywayo for his cruelty, and declared I would
leave Zululand without trading there, and without making him
the present he expected. I also said I should take care the
great English ‘Inkose’ (the Governor of Natal) should hear
of his conduct and the reason of my return. Cetywayo was
then on friendly terms with the English, and being impressed
by my threats, he reconsidered his orders, and spared the
lives of the women.”
I do not propose to follow out all the details of the boundary dispute
between Cetywayo and the Transvaal, or to comment on the different
opinions held on the point by the various authorities, English and
Zulu. The question has been, for the moment, settled by the Transvaal
Convention, and is besides a most uninteresting one to the general
reader.
Nor shall I enter into a discussion concerning the outrages on which
Sir Bartle Frere based his ultimatum previous to the Zulu war. They were
after all insignificant, although sufficient to serve as a _casus belli_
to a statesman determined to fight. The Zulu war was, in the opinion of
Sir B. Frere, necessary in self-defence, which is the first principle of
existence. If it admits of justification, it is on the ground that the
Zulu army was a menace to the white population of South Africa, and that
it was therefore necessary to destroy it, lest at some future time it
should destroy the whites. It is ridiculous to say that the capture of
two Zulu women in Natal and their subsequent murder, or the expulsion on
political grounds of a few missionaries, justified us in breaking up a
kingdom and slaughtering ten thousand men. Sir Bartle Frere declared war
upon the Zulus because he was afraid, and had good reason to be
afraid, that if he did not, Cetywayo would before long sweep either
the Transvaal or Natal; whilst, on the other hand, the Zulus fought us
because our policy was too philanthropic to allow them to fight anybody
else. This statement may appear strange, but a little examination into
Zulu character and circumstances will, I think, show it to be correct.
It must be remembered that for some years before Panda’s death the Zulus
had not been engaged in any foreign war. When Cetywayo ascended the
throne, it was the general hope and expectation of the army, and
therefore of the nation, that this period of inaction would come to an
end, and that the new king would inaugurate an active foreign policy.
They did not greatly care in what direction the activity developed
itself, provided it did develop. It must also be borne in mind that
every able-bodied man in the Zulu country was a member of a regiment,
even the lads being attached to regiments as carriers, and the women
being similarly enrolled, though they did not fight. The Zulu military
system was the universal-service system of Germany brought to an
absolute perfection, obtained by subordinating all the ties and duties
of civil life to military ends. Thus, for instance, marriage could not
be contracted at will, but only by the permission of the king, which was
generally delayed until a regiment was well advanced in years, when a
number of girls were handed over to it to take to wife. This regulation
came into force because it was found that men without home ties were
more ferocious and made better soldiers, and the result of these harsh
rules was that the Zulu warrior, living as he did under the shadow of a
savage discipline, for any breach of which there was but one punishment,
death, can hardly be said to have led a life of domestic comfort, such
as men of all times and nations have thought their common right. But
even a Zulu must have some object in life, some shrine at which to
worship, some mistress of his affections. Home he had none, religion he
had none, mistress he had none, but in their stead he had his career
as a warrior, and his hope of honour and riches to be gained by the
assegai. His home was on the war-track with his regiment, his religion
the fierce denunciation of the isanusi,[*] and his affections were fixed
on the sudden rush of battle, the red slaughter, and the spoils of
the slain. “War,” says Sir T. Shepstone, in a very remarkable despatch
written about a year before the outbreak of the Zulu war, “is the
universal cry among the soldiers, who are anxious to live up to their
traditions, . . . . and the idea is gaining ground among the people that
their nation has outlived the object of its existence.” Again he says,
“The engine (the Zulu military organisation) has not ceased to exist or
to generate its forces, although the reason or excuse for its existence
has died away: these forces have continued to accumulate and are daily
accumulating without safety-valve or outlet.”
[*] _Witch-doctor._ These persons are largely employed in
Zululand to smell out witches who are supposed to have
bewitched others, and are of course very useful as political
agents. Any person denounced by them is at once executed. A
friend of the writer’s was once present at a political
smelling-out on a large scale, and describes it as a very
curious and unpleasant scene. The men, of whom there were
some thousands, were seated in a circle, as pale with terror
as Zulus can be. Within the circle were several witch
doctors; one of whom amidst his or her incantations would
now and again step forward and touch some unfortunate man
with a forked stick. The victim was instantly led away a few
paces and his neck twisted. The circle awaited each
denunciation in breathless expectation, for not a man among
them knew whose turn it might be next. On another occasion,
an unfortunate wretch who had been similarly condemned by an
isanusi rushed up to the same gentleman’s waggon and
besought shelter. He was hidden under some blankets, but
presently his pursuers arrived, and insisted upon his being
handed over. All possible resistance was made, until the
executioners announced that they would search the waggon and
kill him there. It was then covenanted that he should have a
start in the race for life. He was, however, overtaken and
killed. These instances will show how dark and terrible is
the Zulu superstition connected with witchcraft, and what a
formidable weapon it becomes in the hands of the king or
chief.
Desirable as such a state of feeling may be in an army just leaving
for the battlefield, it is obvious that for some fifty thousand men,
comprising the whole manhood of the nation, to be continually on the
boil with sanguinary animosity against the human race in general, is an
awkward element to fit into the peaceable government of a state.
Yet this was doubtless the state of affairs with which Cetywayo had
to contend during the latter years of his reign. He found himself
surrounded by a great army, in a high state of efficiency and warlike
preparation, proclaiming itself wearied with camp life, and clamouring
to be led against an enemy, that it might justify its traditions and
find employment for its spears. Often and often he must have been sorely
puzzled to find excuses wherewithal to put it off. Indeed his position
was both awkward and dangerous: on the one hand was Scylla in the shape
of the English Government, and on the other the stormy and uncertain
Charybdis of his clamouring regiments. Slowly the idea must have began
to dawn upon him that unless he found employment for the army, which,
besides being disgusted with his inactivity, was somewhat wearied with
his cruelties, for domestic slaughter had ceased to divert and had begun
to irritate: the army, or some enterprising members of it, might put it
beyond his power ever to find employment for it at all, and bring one of
his brothers to rule in his stead.
And yet who was he to fight, if fight he must? There were three possible
enemies--1. The Swazis; 2. The Transvaal Boers; 3. The English.
Although the English may have held a place on Cetywayo’s list as
possible foes, there is no ground for supposing that, until shortly
before the war, he had any wish to fight with us. Indeed, whereas their
hatred of the Boers was pronounced, and openly expressed, both the Zulu
king and people always professed great respect for Englishmen, and even
a certain amount of liking and regard.
Therefore, when Cetywayo had to settle on an enemy to attack, it was not
the English that he chose, but the Swazis, whose territory adjoined his
own, lying along the borders of the Transvaal towards Delagoa Bay. The
Swazis are themselves Zulus, and Cetywayo claimed certain sovereign
rights over them, which, however, they refused to recognise. They are a
powerful tribe, and can turn out about 10,000 fighting men, quite enough
for Cetywayo’s young warriors to try their mettle on. Still the king
does not appear to have wished to undertake the war without first
obtaining the approval of the Natal Government, to whom he applied
several times for permission “to wash his spears,” saying that he was
but half a king until he had done so. The Natal Government, however,
invariably replied that he was on no account to do anything of the sort.
This shows the inconveniences of possessing a complimentary feudal hold
over a savage potentate, the shadow of power without the reality. The
Governor of Natal could not in decency sanction such a proceeding as a
war of extermination against the Swazis, but if it had occurred without
his sanction, the Swazis would have suffered no doubt, but the Zulu
spears would have been satisfactorily washed, and there would have been
no Zulu war. As it is, Englishmen have been killed instead of Swazis.
Thwarted in his designs on the Swazis, Cetywayo next turned his
attention to the Transvaal Boers. The Zulus and the Boers had never been
good friends since the days of the massacre of Retief, and of late
years their mutual animosity had been greatly increased owing to
their quarrels about the boundary question previously alluded to. This
animosity reached blood-heat when the Boer Government, acting with the
arrogance it always displayed towards natives, began to lay its commands
upon Cetywayo about his relations with the Amaswazi, the alleged
trespassing on Boer territory, and other matters. The arrogance was
all the more offensive because it was impotent. The Boers were not in
a position to undertake the chastisement of the Zulus. But the king and
council of Zululand now determined to try conclusions with the Transvaal
on the first convenient opportunity, and this time without consulting
the Government of Natal. The opportunity soon occurred. Secocoeni, the
powerful chief of the Bapedi, one of the tribes whose territories border
on the Transvaal, came to a difference with the Boers over another
border question. There is good ground for supposing that Cetywayo
incited him to withstand the Boer demands; it is certain that during the
course of the war that followed he assisted him with advice, and more
substantially still, with Zulu volunteers.
To be brief, the Secocoeni war resulted in the discomfiture of the
Transvaal forces. Another result of this struggle was to throw the whole
state into the most utter confusion, of which the Dutch burghers, always
glad of an opportunity to defy the law, took advantage to refuse to pay
taxes. National bankruptcy ensued, and confusion grew worse confounded.
Cetywayo took note of all this, and saw that now was his opportunity to
attack. The Boers had suffered both in morale and prestige from their
defeat by Secocoeni, who was still in arms against them; whilst the
natives were proportionately elated by their success over the dreaded
white men. There was, he knew well, but little chance of a rapid
concentration to resist a sudden raid, especially when made by such a
powerful army, or rather chain of armies, as he could set in motion.
Everything favoured the undertaking; indeed, humanly speaking, it
is difficult to see what could have saved the greater part of the
population of the Transvaal from sudden extinction, if a kind Providence
had not just then put it into the head of Lord Carnarvon to send out
Sir T. Shepstone as Special Commissioner to their country. When Cetywayo
heard that his father Sompseu (Sir T. Shepstone) was going up to the
Transvaal, he held his hand, sent out spies, and awaited the course
of events. The following incident will show with what interest he was
watching what took place. At the Vaal River a party of Boers met
the Special Commissioner and fired salutes to welcome him. It was
immediately reported to Cetywayo by his spies that the Boers had fired
over Sir T. Shepstone’s waggon. Shortly afterwards a message arrived at
Pretoria from Cetywayo to inquire into the truth of the story, coolly
announcing his intention of sweeping the Transvaal if it were true that
“his father” had been fired at. In a conversation with Mr. Fynney after
the Annexation Cetywayo alludes to his intentions in these words:--
“I heard that the Boers were not treating him (Sompseu) properly, and
that they intended to put him in a corner. If they had done so I should
not have waited for anything more. _Had but one shot been fired_,
I should have said, ‘What more do I wait for? they have touched my
father.’ I should have poured my men over the land, and I can tell you,
son of Mr. Fynney, the land would have burned with fire.” This will show
how eagerly Cetywayo was searching for an excuse to commence his attack
on the Transvaal. When the hope of finding a pretext in the supposed
firing at Sir T. Shepstone or any incident of a similar nature faded
away, he appears to have determined to carry out his plans without
any immediate pretext, and to make a _casus belli_ of his previous
differences with the Government of the Republic. Accordingly he massed
his impis (army corps) at different points along the Transvaal border,
where they awaited the signal to advance and sweep the country.
Information of Cetywayo’s doings and of his secret plans reached
Pretoria shortly before the Annexation, and confirmed the mind of the
Special Commissioner as to the absolute necessity of that measure to
save the citizens of the Republic from coming to a violent end,
and South Africa from being plunged into a native war of unexampled
magnitude. The day before the Annexation took place, when it was quite
certain that it would take place, a message was sent to Cetywayo by Sir
T. Shepstone telling him of what was about to happen, and telling
him too in the sternest and most straightforward language, that the
Transvaal had become the Queen’s land like Natal, and that he must no
more think of attacking it than he would of attacking Natal. Cetywayo
on receiving the message at once disbanded his armies and sent them
to their kraals. “Kabuna,” he said to the messenger, “my impis were
gathered; now at my father’s (Sir T. Shepstone’s) bidding I send them
back to their homes.”
This fact, namely, that at the bidding of his old mentor Sir T.
Shepstone, Cetywayo abandoned his long-cherished plans, and his
undoubted opportunity of paying off old scores with the Boers in a most
effectual manner, and gave up a policy that had so many charms for him,
must be held by every unprejudiced man to speak volumes in his favour.
It must be remembered that it was not merely to oblige his “father
Sompseu” that he did this, but to meet the wishes of the English
Government, and the act shows how anxious he was to retain the
friendship and fall in with the views of that Government. Evidently
Cetywayo had no animosity against us in April 1877.
In his interview with Mr. Fynney, Cetywayo speaks out quite frankly as
to what his intentions had been; he says, “I know all about the soldiers
being on their way up, but I would have asked Sompseu to allow the
soldiers to stand on one side for just a little while, only a little,
and see what my men could do. It would have been unnecessary for the
Queen’s people to trouble. My men were all ready, and how big must that
stone have been, with my father Sompseu digging at one side and myself
at the other, that would not have toppled over? Even though the size
of that mountain (pointing to a mountain range), we could put it on its
back. Again I say I am glad to know the Transvaal is English ground;
perhaps now there may be rest.”
This and other passages show beyond all doubt from what an awful
catastrophe the Transvaal was saved by the Annexation. That Cetywayo
personally detested the Boers is made clear by his words to Mr. Fynney.
“‘The Boers,’ he says, ‘are a nation of liars; they are a bad people,
bad altogether. I do not want them near my people; they lie and claim
what is not theirs, and ill-use my people. Where is Thomas?’ (President
Burgers). I informed him that Mr. Burgers had left the Transvaal. ‘Then
let them pack up and follow Thomas,’ said he. ‘Let them go. The Queen
does not want such people as those about her land. What can the Queen
make of them or do with them? Their evil ways puzzled both Thomas and
Rudolph, Landdrost of Utrecht; they will not be quiet.’”
It is very clear that if Cetywayo had been left to work his will, a
great many of the Boers would have found it necessary to “pack up and
follow Thomas,” whilst many more would have never needed to pack again.
I am aware that attempts have been made to put another explanation on
Cetywayo’s warlike preparations against the Boers. It has been said that
the Zulu army was called up by Sir T. Shepstone to coerce the Transvaal.
It is satisfactory to be able, from intimate personal knowledge, to
give unqualified denial to that statement, which is a pure invention, as
indeed is easily proved by clear evidence, which I have entered into in
another part of this book. Cetywayo played for his own hand all along,
and received neither commands nor hints from the Special Commissioner to
get his army together. Indeed, when Sir T. Shepstone discovered what was
going on, he suffered great anxiety lest some catastrophe should
occur before he was in a position to prevent it. Nothing short of
the Annexation could have saved the Transvaal at that moment, and the
conduct of the Boers after the danger had been taken on to the
shoulders of the Imperial Government is a startling instance of national
ingratitude.
Here again the Zulu king was brought face to face with the ubiquitous
British Government, and that too at a particularly aggravating moment.
He was about to commence his attack when he was met with a polite,
“Hands off; this is British territory.” No wonder that we find him in
despair renewing his prayer that Sompseu will allow him to make “one
little raid only, one small swoop,” and saying that “it is the custom
of our country, when a new king is placed over the nation, to wash
their spears, and it has been done in the case of all former kings of
Zululand. I am no king, but sit in a heap. I cannot be a king till I
have washed my assegais.” All of which is doubtless very savage and
very wrong, but such is the depravity of human nature, that there is
something taking about it for all that.
It was at this period of the history of South Africa that many people
think we made our crowning mistake. We annexed the Transvaal, say they,
six months too soon. As things have turned out, it would have been wiser
to have left Zulus and Transvaal Boers to try conclusions, and done
our best to guard our own frontiers. There is no doubt that such a
consummation of affairs would have cleared the political atmosphere
wonderfully; the Zulus would have got enough fighting to last them some
time, and the remainder of the Boers would have entreated our protection
and become contented British subjects; there would have been no
Isandhlwana and no Majuba Hill. But to these I say who could foresee the
future, and who, in the then state of kindly feeling towards the Boers,
could wish to leave them, and all the English mixed up with them, to
undergo, unprepared as they were, the terrible experience of a Zulu
invasion? Besides, what guarantee was there that the slaughter would
stop in the Transvaal, or that the combat would not have developed into
a war of races throughout South Africa? Even looking at the matter in
the light of after events, it is difficult to regret that humanity
was on this occasion allowed to take precedence of a more cold-blooded
policy. If the opponents of the Annexation, or even the members of the
Transvaal Independence Committee, knew what a Zulu invasion meant, they
would scarcely have been so bitter about that act.
From the time of the Annexation it was a mere matter of opinion as to
which direction the Zulu explosion would take. The safety-valves were
loaded whilst the pressure daily increased, and all acquainted with the
people knew that it must come sooner or later.
Shortly after the Transvaal became British territory the old Zulu
boundary question came to the fore again and was made more complicated
than ever by Sir T. Shepstone, who had hitherto favoured the Zulu
claims, taking the Boer side of the controversy, after examination of
the locality and of persons acquainted with the details of the matter.
There was nothing wonderful in this change of opinion, though of course
it was attributed to various motives by advocates of the Zulu claims,
and there is no doubt that Cetywayo himself did not at all like it, and,
excited thereto by vexation and the outcry of his regiments, adopted
a very different and aggressive tone in his communications with the
English authorities. Indeed his irritation against the Boers and
everybody connected with them was very great. Probably if he had been
left alone he would in time have carried out his old programme, and
attacked the Transvaal. But, fortunately for the Transvaal, which, like
sailors and drunken men, always seems to have had a special Providence
taking care of it: at this juncture Sir Bartle Frere appeared upon the
scene, and after a few preliminaries and the presentation of a strong
ultimatum, which was quite impracticable so far as Cetywayo was
concerned, since it demanded what it was almost impossible for him to
concede--the disbandment of his army--invaded Zululand.
It is generally supposed that the Natal colonists had a great deal to
do with making the Zulu war, but this is not the case. It is quite true
that they were rejoiced at the prospect of the break-up of Cetywayo’s
power, because they were very much afraid of him and of his “celibate
man-slaying machine,” which, under all the circumstances, is not
wonderful. But the war was a distinctly Imperial war, made by an
Imperial officer, without consultation with Colonial authorities, on
Imperial grounds, viz., because Cetywayo menaced Her Majesty’s power in
South Africa. Of course, if there had been no colonies there would have
been no war, but in that way only are they responsible for it. Natal,
however, has not grudged to pay 250,000 pounds towards its expenses,
which is a great deal more than it can afford, and, considering that the
foolish settlement made by Sir Garnet Wolseley is almost sure to involve
the colony in trouble, quite as much as should be asked.
The fact of the matter was, that Sir Bartle Frere was a statesman who
had the courage of his convictions; he saw that a Zulu disturbance of
one kind or another was inevitable, so he boldly took the initiative. If
things had gone right with him, as he supposed they would, praise would
have been lavished on him by the Home authorities, and he would have
been made a peer, and perhaps Governor-General of India to boot; but he
reckoned without his Lord Chelmsford, and the element of success which
was necessary to gild his policy in the eyes of the home public was
conspicuous by its absence. As it was, no language was considered to
be too bad to apply to this “imperious proconsul” who had taken upon
himself to declare a war. If it is any consolation to him, he has at any
rate the gratitude of the South African Colonies, not so much for what
he has done, for that is being carefully nullified by the subsequent
action of the Home Government, but because, believing his policy to be
right, he had the boldness to carry it out at the risk of his official
reputation. Sir Bartle Frere took a larger view of the duties of the
governor of a great dependency than to constitute himself the flickering
shadow of the Secretary of State in Downing Street, who, knowing little
of the real interests of the colony, is himself only the reflection
of those that hold the balance of power, to whom the subject is one of
entire indifference, provided that there is nothing to pay.
The details of the Zulu war are matters of melancholy history, which
it is useless to recapitulate here. With the exception of the affair at
Rorke’s Drift, there is nothing to be proud of in connection with it,
and a great deal to be ashamed of, more especially its final settlement.
There is, however, one point that I wish to submit to the consideration
of my readers, and that is, that Cetywayo was never thoroughly in
earnest about the war. If he had been in earnest, if he had been
determined to put out his full strength, he would certainly have swept
Natal from end to end after his victory at Isandhlwana. There was no
force to prevent his doing so: on the contrary, it is probable that if
he had advanced a strong army over the border, a great number of the
Natal natives would have declared in his favour through fear of his
vengeance, or at the least would have remained neutral. He had ample
time at his disposal to have executed the manoeuvre twice over before
the arrival of the reinforcements, of which the results must have been
very dreadful, and yet he never destroyed a single family. The reason he
has himself given for this conduct is that he did not wish to irritate
the white man; that he had not made the war, and was only anxious to
defend his country.
When the fighting came to an end after the battle of Ulundi, there
were two apparent courses open to us to take. One was to take over
the country and rule it for the benefit of the Zulus, and the other to
enforce the demands in Sir Bartle Frere’s ultimatum, and, taking such
guarantees as circumstances would admit of, leave Cetywayo on the
throne. Instead of acting on either of these plans, however, Sir Garnet
Wolseley proceeded, in the face of an extraordinary consensus of adverse
opinion, which he treated with calm contempt, to execute what has proved
to be a very cruel settlement. Sir Garnet Wolseley has the reputation of
being an extremely able man, and it is only fair to him to suppose that
he was not the sole parent of this political monster, by which all the
blood and treasure expended on the Zulu war were made of no account, but
that it was partially dictated to him by authorities at home, who were
anxious to gratify English opinion, and partly ignorant, partly
careless of the consequences. At the same time, it is clear that he is
responsible for the details of the scheme, since immediately after the
capture of Cetywayo he writes a despatch about them which was considered
so important, that a member of his staff was sent to England in
charge of it. In this document he informs the Secretary of State that
Cetywayo’s rule was resolutely built up “without any of the ordinary and
lawful foundations of authority, and by the mere vigour and vitality of
an individual character.” It is difficult to understand what Sir Garnet
means in this passage. If the fact of being the rightful and generally
accepted occupant of the throne is not an “ordinary and lawful
foundation of authority,” what is? As regards Cetywayo having built up
his rule by the “mere vigour and vitality of an individual character,”
he is surely in error. Cetywayo’s position was not different to that
of his immediate predecessors. If Sir Garnet had applied the remark to
Chaka, the first king, to the vigour and vitality of whose individual
character Zululand owes its existence as a nation, it would have been
more appropriate. The despatch goes on to announce that he has made
up his mind to divide the country into thirteen portions, in order to
prevent the “possibility of any reunion of its inhabitants under one
rule,” and ends in these words: “I have laboured with the great aim of
establishing for Her Majesty’s subjects in South Africa, both white and
coloured, as well as for this spirited people against whom unhappily we
have been involved in war, the enduring foundations of peace, happiness
and prosperity.” The spirited people were no doubt vastly thankful, but
the white man, reading such a passage as this, and knowing the facts of
the case, will only recognise Sir Garnet Wolseley’s admirable talent for
ironical writing.
Sir Garnet entered into an agreement with each of his kinglets, who,
amongst other things, promised that they would not make war without
the sanction of the British Government. He also issued a paper of
instructions to the gentleman who was first appointed British Resident
(who, by the way, very soon threw up his post in despair). From this
document we learn that all the ex-king’s brothers are to “be under
the eye of the chief John Dunn,” but it is chiefly remarkable for the
hostility it evinces to all missionary enterprise. The Resident is
instructed to “be careful to hold yourself entirely aloof from all
missionary or proselytising enterprises,” and that “grants of land
by former kings to missionaries cannot be recognised by the British
Government,” although Sir Garnet will allow missionaries to live in the
country if the chief of the district does not object. These instructions
created some adverse comment in England, with the result that, in
the supplementary instructions issued on the occasion of Mr. Osborn’s
appointment as Resident, they were somewhat modified. In the despatch
to the Secretary of State in which he announces the new appointment, Sir
Garnet says that Mr. Osborn is to be the “councillor, guide, and friend”
of the native chiefs, and that to his “moral influence” “we should
look I think for the spread of civilisation and the propagation of the
Gospel.” What a conglomeration of duties,--at once “prophet, priest, and
king!” Poor Mr. Osborn!
Of the chiefs appointed under this unfortunate settlement, some were
so carelessly chosen that they have no authority whatsoever over
the districts to which they were appointed, their nominal subjects
preferring to remain under the leadership of their hereditary chief.
Several of Sir Garnet’s little kings cannot turn out an hundred men,
whilst the hereditary chief, who has no official authority, can bring up
three or four thousand. Thus, for instance, a territory was given to
a chief called Infaneulela. The retainers of this gentleman live in a
kraal of five or six huts on the battlefield of Ulundi. A chief called
Dilligane, to whom the district should have been given, is practically
head man of the district, and takes every possible opportunity of
defying the nominee chief, Infaneulela, who is not acknowledged by
the people. Another case is that of Umgitchwa, to whom a territory was
given. In this instance there are two brothers, Umgitchwa and Somhlolo,
born of different mothers. Umgitchwa is the elder, but Somhlolo is the
son of a daughter of the king, and therefore, according to Zulu custom,
entitled to succeed to the chieftainship. Somhlolo was disinherited by
Sir Garnet on account of his youth (he is about twenty-five and has many
wives). But an ancient custom is not to be thus abrogated by a stroke of
the pen, and Somhlolo is practically chief of the district. Fighting is
imminent between the two brothers.
A third case is that of Hlubi, who, though being a good, well-meaning
man, is a Basuto, and being a foreigner, has no influence over the Zulus
under him.
A fourth instance is that of Umlandela, an old and infirm Zulu, who was
made chief over a large proportion of the Umtetwa tribe on the coast of
Zululand. His appointment was a fatal mistake, and has already led to
much bloodshed under the following curious circumstances, which are not
without interest, as showing the intricacy of Zulu plots.
The Umtetwas were in the days of Chaka a very powerful tribe, but
suffered the same fate at his hands as did every other that ventured to
cross spears with him. They were partially annihilated, and whilst some
of the survivors, of whom the Umtetwas in Zululand are the descendants,
were embodied in the Zulu regiments, others were scattered far and wide.
Branches of this important tribe exist as far off as the Cape Colony.
Dingiswayo, who was the chief of the Umtetwas when Chaka conquered the
tribe, fled after his defeat into Basutoland, and is supposed to have
died there. After the Zulu war Sir G. Wolseley divided the Umtetwa into
two districts, appointing an Umtetwa chief named Somkeli ruler over one,
and Umlandela over the other.
Umlandela, being a Zulu and worn with age, has never had any authority
over his nominal subjects, and has been anxious to rid himself of the
danger and responsibility of his chieftainship by transferring it on to
the shoulders of Mr. John Dunn, whose territory adjoins his own, and
who would be, needless to say, nothing loth to avail himself of the
opportunity of increasing his taxable area. Whilst this intrigue was in
progress all Zululand was convulsed with the news of our defeat by the
Boers and the consequent surrender of the Transvaal. It was commonly
rumoured that our forces were utterly destroyed, and that the Boers were
now the dominant Power. Following on the heels of this intelligence was
a rumour to the effect that Cetywayo was coming back. These two reports,
both of which had a foundation of truth, had a very bad effect on the
vulgar mind in Zululand, and resulted in the setting in motion of a
variety of plots, of which the following was the most important.
The Umtetwa tribe is among those who are not anxious for the return
of Cetywayo, but see in the present state of affairs an opportunity of
regaining the power they possessed before the days of Chaka. If they
were to have a king over Zululand they determined that it should be an
Umtetwa king, and Somkeli, one of the chiefs appointed by Sir Garnet,
was the man who aimed at the throne. He was not, however, anxious to put
out his hand at first further than he could draw it back, so he adopted
a very ingenious expedient. It will be remembered that the old Chief
Dingiswayo fled to Basutoland, where he is reported to have married.
It occurred to Somkeli that if he could produce a descendant or a
pseudo-descendant of Dingiswayo he would have no difficulty in beginning
operations by dispossessing Umlandela of his territory in favour of the
supposed lawful heir. In fact he wanted a cat to pull the chestnuts
out of the fire for him, who could easily be got rid of afterwards.
Accordingly one Sitimela was produced who is supposed to be an escaped
convict from Natal, who gave out that he was a grandson of Dingiswayo
by a Basuto woman, and a great medicine-man, able to kill everybody by a
glance of his eye.
To this impostor adherents flocked from all parts of Zululand, and
Umlandela flying for his life into John Dunn’s territory, Sitimela
seized upon the chieftainship. The Resident thereupon ordered him to
appear before him, but he, as might be expected, refused to come. As it
was positively necessary to put an end to the plot by some means, since
its further development would have endangered and perhaps destroyed the
weak-knee’d Zulu settlement, Mr. Osborn determined to proceed to the
scene of action. Mahomet would not go to the mountain, so the mountain
had to go to Mahomet. On arrival he pitched his tents half way between
the camps of Sitimela and John Dunn, who had Umlandela under his charge,
and summoned Somkeli, the author of the plot, to appear before him. Ten
days elapsed before the summons was obeyed. During this time, and indeed
until they finally escaped, the Resident and his companion could not
even venture to the spring, which was close at hand, to wash, for fear
of being assassinated. All day long they could see lines of armed
men swarming over the hills round them, and hear them yelling their
war-songs. At length Somkeli appeared, accompanied by over a thousand
armed warriors. He was ordered to withdraw his forces from Sitimela’s
army and go home. He went home, but did not withdraw his forces. The
next day Sitimela himself appeared before the Resident. He was ordered
to come with ten men: he came with two thousand all armed, wild with
excitement and “moutied” (medicined). To make this medicine they had
killed and pounded up a little cripple boy and several of Umlandela’s
wives. It afterwards transpired that the only reason Sitimela did not
then and there kill the Resident was that he (Mr. Osborn) had with him
several chiefs who were secretly favourable to Sitimela’s cause, and if
he had killed him he would, according to Zulu custom, have had to kill
them too. Mr. Osborn ordered Sitimela to disperse his forces or take
the consequences, and waited a few days for him to do so; but seeing no
signs of his compliance, he then ordered the neighbouring chiefs to fall
on him, and at length withdrew from his encampment,--none too soon. That
very night a party of Sitimela’s men came down to kill him, and finding
the tent in which he and his companions had slept standing, stabbed at
its supposed occupants through the canvas.
Sitimela was defeated by the forces ordered out by the Resident with
a loss of about 500 men. It is, however, worthy of note, and shows how
widespread was the conspiracy, that out of all the thousands promised,
Mr. Osborn was only able to call out two thousand men.
The appointment, however, that has occasioned the most criticism is that
of John Dunn, who got the Benjamin share of Zululand in preference to
his brother chiefs. The converting of an Englishman into a Zulu chief is
such a very odd proceeding that it is difficult to know what to think of
it. John Dunn is an ambitious man, and most probably has designs on the
throne; he is also a man who understands the value of money, of which
he makes a great deal out of his chieftainship. At the same time, it is
clear that, so far as it goes, his rule is better than that of the other
chiefs; he has a uniform tax fixed, and has even done something in the
way of starting schools and making roads. From all that I have been able
to gather, his popularity and influence with the Zulus are overrated,
though he has lived amongst them so many years, and taken so many of
their women to wife. His appointment was a hazardous experiment, and in
the long run is likely to prove a mischievous one, since any attempted
amendment of the settlement will be violently resisted by him on the
ground of vested interests. Also, if white men are set over Zulus at
all, they should be _gentlemen_ in the position of government officers,
not successful adventurers.
Perhaps the only wise thing done in connection with the settlement was
the appointment of Mr. Osborn, C.M.G., as British Resident. It is not
easy to find a man fitted for that difficult and dangerous position, for
the proper filling of which many qualifications are required. Possessed
of an intimate knowledge of the Zulus, their language, and their mode of
thought and life, and being besides a very able and energetic officer,
Mr. Osborn would have saved the settlement from breaking down if anybody
could have saved it. As it is, by the exercise of ceaseless energy and
at great personal risk, he has preserved it from total collapse. Of the
dangers and anxieties to which he is exposed, the account I have given
of the Sitimela incident is a sufficient example. He is, in fact,
nothing but a shadow, for he has no force at his command to ensure
obedience to his decisions, or to prevent civil war; and in Zululand,
oddly enough, force is a remedy. Should one chief threaten the peace of
the country, he can only deal with him by calling on another chief for
aid, a position that is neither dignified nor right. What is worst of
all is that the Zulus are beginning to discover what a shadow he is, and
with this weakened position he has to pit his single brains against all
the thousand and one plots which are being woven throughout Zululand.
The whole country teems with plots. Mnyamane, the late Prime Minister,
and one of the ablest, and perhaps the most influential man in Zululand,
is plotting for the return of Cetywayo. Bishop Colenso, again, is as
usual working his own wires, and creating agitations to forward his
ends, whatever they may be at the moment. John Dunn, on the other hand,
is plotting to succeed Cetywayo, and so on _ad infinitum_. Such is the
state of affairs with which our unfortunate Resident has to contend.
Invested with large imaginary powers, he has in reality nothing but his
personal influence and his own wits to help him. He has no white man
to assist him, but living alone in a broken-down tent and some mud
huts built by his son’s hands (for the Government have never kept their
promise to put him up a house), in the midst of thousands of restless
and scheming savages, amidst plots against the peace and against his
authority, he has to do the best he can to carry out an impracticable
settlement, and to maintain the character of English justice and the
honour of the English name. Were Mr. Osborn to throw up his post or to
be assassinated, the authorities would find it difficult to keep the
whole settlement from collapsing like a card castle.
Nobody who understood Zulu character and aspirations could ever have
executed such a settlement as Sir Garnet Wolseley’s, unless he did it
in obedience to some motive or instructions that it was not advisable
to publish. It is true that Sir Garnet’s experience of the Zulus was
extremely small, and that he put aside the advice of those who did know
them with that contempt with which he is wont to treat colonists and
their opinions. Sir Garnet Wolseley does not like colonial people,
possibly because they have signally failed to appreciate heaven-born
genius in his person, or his slap-dash drumhead sort of way of settling
the fate of countries, and are, indeed, so rude as to openly say, that,
in their opinion, he did more mischief in Africa in a few months, than
it would take an ordinary official a lifetime to accomplish.
However this may be, stop his ears as much as he might, Sir Garnet
cannot have been entirely blind to the import of what he was doing, and
the only explanation of his action is that he entered on it more with
the idea of flattering and gratifying English public opinion, than of
doing his best for the Zulus or the white Colonists on their borders. A
great outcry had been raised at home, where, in common with most South
African affairs, the matter was not thoroughly understood, against the
supposed intended annexation of Zululand for the benefit of “greedy
colonists.” It was argued that colonists were anxious for the annexation
in order that they might get the land to speculate with, and doubtless
this was, in individual instances, true. I fully agree with those who
think that it would be unwise to throw open Zululand to the European
settler, not on account of the Zulus, who would benefit by the change,
but because the result would be a state of affairs similar to that in
Natal, where there are a few white men surrounded by an ever-growing
mass of Kafirs. But there is a vast difference between Annexation proper
and the Protectorate it was our duty to establish over the natives. Such
an arrangement would have presented few difficulties, and have brought
with it many advantages. White men could have been forbidden to settle
in the country. A small hut-tax, such as the Zulus would have cheerfully
paid, would have brought in forty or fifty thousand a year, an ample
sum to defray the expenses of the Resident and sub-Residents: the
maintenance of an adequate native force to keep order: and even the
execution of necessary public works. It is impossible to overrate the
advantages that must have resulted both to the Zulus and their white
neighbours from the adoption of this obvious plan, among them being
lasting peace and security to life and property; or to understand the
folly and cruelty that dictated the present arrangement, or rather
want of arrangement. Not for many years has England missed such an
opportunity of doing good, not only at no cost, but with positive
advantage to herself. Did we owe nothing to this people whose kingdom we
had broken up, and whom we had been shooting down by thousands? They
may well ask, as they do continually, what they have done that we should
treat them as we have and are doing?
It cannot be too clearly understood, that, when the Zulus laid down
their arms they did so, hoping and believing that they would be taken
over by the English Government, which, having been fairly beaten by
it, they now looked on as their head or king, and be ruled like their
brethren in Natal. They expected to have to pay taxes and to have
white magistrates placed over them, and they or the bulk of them looked
forward to the change with pleasure. It must be remembered that when
once they have found their master, there exists no more law-abiding
people in the world than the Zulus, provided they are ruled firmly, and
above all justly. Believing that such a rule would fall to their lot
they surrendered when they did. How great, then, must their surprise
have been when they found, that without their wishes being consulted in
the matter, their own hereditary king was to be sent away, and thirteen
little kings set up in his place, with, strangest of all, a white man as
chief little king, whilst the British Government contented itself with
placing a Resident in the country, to watch the troubles that must
ensue.
Such a settlement as this could only have one object and one result,
neither of which is at all creditable to the English people. The Zulus
were parcelled out among thirteen chiefs, in order that their strength
might be kept down by internecine war and mutual distrust and jealousy:
and, as though it were intended to render this result more certain,
territories were chucked about in the careless way I have described,
whilst central authority was abolished, and the vacant throne is dangled
before all eyes labelled “the prize of the strongest.” Of course
Sir Garnet’s paper agreements with the chiefs were for the most part
disregarded from the first. For instance, every chief has his army
and uses it too. In Zululand bloodshed is now a thing of every-day
occurrence, and the whole country is torn by fear, uncertainly, and
consequent want.[*] The settlement is bearing its legitimate fruit; some
thousands of Zulus have already been killed in direct consequence of it,
and more will doubtless follow. And this is the outcome of all the blood
and treasure spent over the Zulu war! Well, we have settled Zululand on
the most approved principles, and thank Heaven, British influence has
not been extended!
[*] A severe famine is said to be imminent in Zululand.
To show that I am not singular in my opinion as to the present state
of Zululand, I may be allowed to quote a few short extracts taken at
random, from half-a-dozen numbers of the “Natal Mercury.” Talking of
the Zulu settlement terms as dictated by Sir G. Wolseley, the leading
article of the issue 21st November 1881 says:--“It will at once
be apparent that these terms have in several cases been flagrantly
violated, especially as regards clauses of 2, 3, 4, and 6. This last
will assuredly be broken again and yet again, so long as the British
Resident occupies the position of an official mollusc. The chiefs
themselves perceive and admit the evils that must arise out of the
absence of any effective central authority. These evils are so obvious,
they were so generally recognised at the outset as being inherent in
the scheme, that we might almost suppose their occurrence had been
deliberately anticipated as a desired outcome of the settlement. The
morality of such a line of policy would be precisely on a par with that
which is involved in the proposal to reinstate Cetywayo as a means of
dealing with the Boers. The creation of thirteen kinglets in order that
they might destroy each other, is as humane and high-minded an effort
of statesmanship as would be the restoration of a banished king in order
that he might eat up a people to whom the same power has just given back
their independence. To the simple colonial mind such deep designs
of Machiavellian statecraft are as hateful as they are inhuman and
dishonest.”
A correspondent of the “Mercury” in Zululand writes under date of 13th
October:--
“I send a line at the last moment to say that things are going from bad
to worse at railway speed. Up to the arrival of Sir Evelyn Wood, the
chiefs did not fully realise that they were really independent at all.
Now they do, and if I mistake not, like a beggar on horseback will ride
to the devil sharp. Oham has begun by killing a large number of the
Amagalusi people. My information is derived from native sources, and may
be somewhat exaggerated. It is that the killed at Isandhlwana were few
compared with those killed by Uhamu a few days ago. Usibebu also and
Undabuka are, I am told, on the point of coming to blows; and if they
do that it will be worse still, for Undabuka will find supporters
throughout the length and breadth of Zululand. Undabuka, the full
brother of the ex-king, is the protege of the Bishop of Natal. The
Bishop, I find, has again sent one of his agents (Amajuba by name)
calling for another deputation. The deputation is now on its way to
Natal, and that, I understand, against the express refusal of the
Resident to allow it.” In the issue of 14th November is published a
letter from Mr. Nunn, a gentleman well known in Zululand, from which,
as it is too long to quote in its entirety, I give a few
extracts:--“_Oham’s Camp, Oct.15._--The Zulus cannot comprehend the
Transvaal affair, and it has been industriously circulated among them
that the English have been beaten and forced to give back the Transvaal.
They do not understand gracious acts of restoration after we have been
beaten. Four times this year has Umnyamana called his army together and
menaced Oham, who has several times had to have parties of his followers
sleeping around his kraal in the hills adjacent, so as to give him
timely notice to fly. When Oham left his kraal for the purpose of
attending the meeting at Inslasatye, the same day the whole of the
Maquilisini Tribe came on to the hills adjacent to Oham’s kraal, the
‘Injamin,’ and threatened that district. This has been the case on two
or three former occasions, and simultaneously Umnyamana’s tribe and
Undabuka’s followers always flew to arms, thus threatening on all sides.
. . . Trading is and has been for months entirely suspended in this
district. The fields are unplanted, no ploughs or Kafir-picks at
work--all are in a state of excitement, not knowing the moment a
collision may take place. Hunger will stare many in the face next year,
and all the men yelling to their chiefs to be let loose and put an end
to this state of uncertainty.”
Mr. Nunn encloses an account by an eye-witness of a battle which took
place on the 2d October 1881 between Oham’s army and the Maquilisini
Tribe. The following is an extract:--“On the 2nd there was a heavy mist,
and on moving forward the mounted party found themselves in the midst
of the enemy (the Maquilisini), and on hearing a cry to stab the horses,
they rode through them with no casualty (except one horse slightly
wounded with a bullet). The army, moving in a half circle, now became
generally engaged in a hand-to-hand fight, and our men were checked
and annoyed by a number of the enemy armed with guns, who were in a
stone-kraal and kept up a constant fire. Amatonga, now at the head of
the mounted party, charged and drove the enemy out of the kraal, from
which they three several times charged the enemy on the flank, assisted
by a small infantry party, and cut paths through their ranks. The fight,
which had now lasted nearly an hour, commenced to flag, and Oham’s army
making a sudden rush entirely routed the enemy, and the carnage lasted
to the Bevan river, the boundary of the Transvaal. No women or children
were killed, but out of an army of about 1500 of the enemy but few
escaped” (sic) . . . . “The men, as they were being killed, repeatedly
exclaimed, ‘We are dying through Umnyamana and Umlabaku.’”
In the “Natal Mercury” of the 13th March occurs the following:--
“_Zulu Country._--As to the state of the country it is something we
cannot describe; everything is upside down, and the chiefs appointed by
the government are mere nobodies, and have not any power over their own
people. Even the Resident is in a false position, and seems perfectly
powerless to act either way. We had one row, just arriving at a kraal in
time to save it from being eaten up. Witchcraft and killing, one of the
pretences on which the English made war, are of every-day occurrence,
and fifty times worse than they were before the war. Oham and Tibysio
(?) keep their men continually in the field, consequently those
districts are at present in a state of famine.”
Sir Garnet Wolseley executed the Zulu settlement on the 1st September
1879. The above extracts will suffice to show the state of the country
after it has been working for little more than two years. They will
also, I believe, suffice to convince any just and impartial mind that I
do not exaggerate when I say that it is an abomination and a disgrace
to England. The language may be strong, but when one hears of 1500
unfortunates (nearly twice as many as we lost at Isandhlwana) being
slaughtered in a single intertribal broil, it is time to use strong
language. It is not as though this were an unexpected or an unavoidable
development of events, every man who knew the Zulus predicted the misery
that must result from such a settlement, but those who directed their
destinies turned a deaf ear to all warnings. They did not wish to hear.
And now we are told that civil war is imminent between the Cetywayo or
anti-settlement party, and what I must, for want of a better name, call
the John Dunn party, or those who have acquired interests under the
settlement, and who for various reasons wish to see Cetywayo’s face no
more. If this occurs, and it will occur unless the Government makes up
its mind to do something before long, the slaughter, not only of men but
also of women and children, will be enormous; fugitives will pour into
Natal, followed perhaps by their pursuers, and for aught we know the war
may spread into our own dominions. We are a philanthropic people, very,
when Bulgarians are concerned, or when the subject is one that piques
the morbid curiosity, or is the rage of the moment, and the subject of
addresses from great and eloquent speakers. But we can sit still, and
let such massacres as these take place, when we have but to hold up our
hand to stop them. When occasionally the veil is lifted a little, and
the public hears of “fresh fighting in Zululand;” a question is asked
in the House; Mr. Courtney, as usual, has no information, but generally
discredits the report, and it is put aside as “probably not true.” I
am well aware that of the few who read these words, many will discredit
them, or say that they are written for some object, or for party
purposes. But it is not the case; they are written in the interest of
the truth, and in the somewhat faint hope that they may awaken a portion
of the public, however small, to a knowledge of our responsibilities
to the unfortunate Zulus. For try to get rid of it as we may, those
responsibilities rest upon our shoulders. When we conquered the Zulu
nation and sent away the Zulu king, we undertook, morally at any rate,
to provide for the future good government of the country; otherwise, the
Zulu war was unjust indeed. If we continue to fail, as we have hitherto,
to carry out our responsibilities as a humane and Christian nation ought
to do, our lapse from what is right will certainly recoil upon our own
heads, and, in the stern lessons of future troubles and disasters, we
shall learn that Providence with the nation, as with the individual,
makes a neglected duty its own avenger. We have sown the wind, let us be
careful lest we reap the whirlwind.
It is very clear that things cannot remain in their present condition.
If they do, it is probable that the Resident will sooner or later
be assassinated; not from any personal motives, but as a political
necessity, and some second Chaka will rise up and found a new Zulu
dynasty, sweeping away our artificial chiefs and divisions like cobwebs.
This idea seems to have penetrated into Lord Kimberley’s official mind,
since in his despatch of instructions to Sir H. Bulwer, written in
February last, he says, “Probably if the chiefs are left to themselves
after a period more or less prolonged of war and anarchy, some man will
raise himself to the position of supreme chief.” The prospect of war and
anarchy in Zululand does not, however, trouble Lord Kimberley at all; in
fact, the whole despatch is typical to a degree of the Liberal Colonial
policy. Lord Kimberley admits that what little quiet the country has
enjoyed under the settlement, “was due to a mistaken belief on the part
of the Zulus that the British Government was ruling them, or would rule
them through the Resident.” He evidently clearly sees all the evils and
bloodshed that are resulting and that must result from the present
state of affairs; indeed he recapitulates them, and then ends up by even
refusing to allow such slight measures of relief as the appointment of
sub-Residents to be carried out, although begged for by the chiefs, on
the ground that it might extend British influence. Of the interests of
the Zulus himself he is quite careless. The whole despatch can be summed
up thus: “If you can find any method to improve the state of affairs
which will not subject us to the smallest cost, risk, or responsibility,
you can employ it; if not, let them fight it out.” Perhaps Lord
Kimberley may live (officially) long enough to find out that meanness
and selfishness do not always pay, and that it is not always desirable,
thus to sacrifice the respect, and crush the legitimate aspirations of a
generous people.
Unless something is done before long, it is possible that John Dunn may
succeed after a bloody war in securing the throne; but this would not
prove a permanent arrangement, since he is now getting on in life and
has no son to carry on the dynasty. Another possibility, and one that is
not generally known, at any rate in this country, though it is perhaps
the most probable of all, is this. Cetywayo has left a son in Zululand,
who is being carefully educated under the care of Mnyamane, the late
King’s Prime Minister. The boy is now about 16 years of age, and is
reported to possess very good abilities, and is the trump card that
Mnyamane will play as soon as the time is ripe. This young man is the
hereditary heir to the Zulu crown, and it is more than probable that if
he is proclaimed king the vast majority of the nation will rally round
him and establish him firmly on his throne. There is little use in
keeping Cetywayo confined whilst his son is at large. The lad should
have been brought to England and educated, so that he might at some
future time have assisted in the civilisation of his country: as it is,
he is growing up in a bad school.
And now I come to the root of the whole matter, the question whether
or no, under all these circumstances, it is right or desirable to
re-establish Cetywayo on the throne of Zululand. In considering this
question, I think that Cetywayo’s individuality ought to be out on one
side, however much we may sympathise with his position, as I confess I
do to some extent myself. After all, Cetywayo is only one man, whereas
the happiness, security, and perhaps the lives of many thousands are
involved in the issue of the question. In coming to any conclusion
in the matter it is necessary to keep in view the intentions of the
Government as regards our future connection with Zululand. If the
Government intends to do its duty and rule Zululand as it ought to be
ruled, by the appointment of proper magistrates, the establishment of an
adequate force, and the imposition of the necessary taxes; then it would
be the height of folly to permit Cetywayo to return, since his presence
would defeat the scheme. It must be remembered that there is as yet
nothing whatsoever to prevent this plan being carried out. It would be
welcomed with joy by the large majority of both Zulus and Colonists. It
would also solve the problem of the increase of the native population of
Natal, which is assuming the most alarming proportions, since Zululand,
being very much underpopulated, it would be easy, were that country once
quietly settled, to draft the majority of the Natal Zulus back into it.
This is undoubtedly the best course, and indeed the only right course;
but it does not at all follow that it will be taken, since governments
are unfortunately more concerned at the prospect of losing votes than
with the genuine interests of their dependencies. The proper settlement
of Zululand would not be popular amongst a large class in this country,
and therefore it is not likely to be carried out, however right and
necessary it may be.
If nothing is going to be done, then it becomes a question whether or no
Cetywayo should be sent back.
The large majority of the Natalians consider that his restoration would
be an act of suicidal folly, and their opinion is certainly entitled to
great weight, since they are after all the people principally
concerned. The issue of the experiment would be a matter of comparative
indifference to people living 7000 miles away, but is naturally regarded
with some anxiety by those who have their homes on the borders of
Zululand. It is very well to sympathise with savage royalty in distress,
but it must be borne in mind that there are others to be considered
besides the captive king. Many of the Zulus, for instance, are by
no means anxious to see him again, since they look forward with just
apprehension to the line of action he may take with those who have not
shown sufficient anxiety for his return, or have in other ways incurred
his resentment. One thing is clear, to send the king back to Zululand is
to restore the _status in quo_ as it was before the war. There can be
no half measures about it, no more worthless paper stipulations; a Zulu
king must either be allowed to rule in his own fashion or not at all.
The war would go for nothing, and would doubtless have to be fought over
again with one of Cetywayo’s successors.
Also it must be remembered that it is one thing to talk of restoring
Cetywayo, and another to carry his restoration into effect. It would not
simply be a question of turning him down on the borders of Zululand, and
letting him find his own way back to his throne, for such a proceeding
would be the signal for the outbreak of civil war. It is not to be
supposed that John Dunn, and those whose interests are identical with
Dunn’s, would allow the ex-king to reseat himself on the throne without
a struggle; indeed the former has openly declared his intention of
resisting the attempt by force of arms if necessary. He is by no means
anxious to give up the 15,000 pounds a year his hut-tax brings in, and
all the contingent profits and advantages of his chieftainship. If we
wish to restore Cetywayo we must first depose Dunn; in fact, we must be
ready to support his restoration by force of arms.
As regards Cetywayo himself, I cannot share the opinion of those who
think that he would be personally dangerous. He has learnt his lesson,
and would not be anxious to try conclusions with the English again;
indeed, I believe he would prove a staunch ally. But supposing him
re-established on the throne, how long would it be before a revolution,
or the hand of the assassin, to say nothing of the ordinary chances
of nature, put an end to him, and how do we know that his successor in
power would share his views?
Cetywayo’s rule, bad as it was, was perhaps preferable to the reign of
terror that we have established, under the name of a settlement. But
that we can still remedy if we choose to do so, whereas, if we once
restore Cetywayo, all power over the Zulus passes out of our hands.
We have many interests to consider in South Africa, all of which will be
more or less affected by our action in this matter. On the whole, I am
of opinion that the Government that replaces Cetywayo on the throne
of his fathers will undertake a very grave responsibility, and must be
prepared to deal with many resulting complications, not the least of
which will be the utter exasperation of the white inhabitants of Natal.
NATAL AND RESPONSIBLE GOVERNMENT
_Natal--Causes of increase of the native population--Happy condition of
the Natal Zulus--Polygamy--Its results on population--The impossibility
of eradicating it--Relations between a Zulu and his wives--Connection
between polygamy and native law--Missionary work amongst the Zulus--Its
failure--Reasons of its failure--Early days of Natal--Growth of the
native question--Coming struggle between white and black over the
land question--Difficulty of civilising the Zulu--Natal as a black
settlement--The constitution of Natal--Request for responsible
government--Its refusal--The request renewed and granted--Terms and
reason of Lord Kimberley’s offer--Infatuation of responsible government
party in Natal--Systematic abuse of colonists in England--Colonial
speculators--Grievances against the Imperial Government--Sir Henry
Bulwer--Uncertain future of Natal--Its available force--Exterior
dangers--The defence question shirked by the “party of progress”--
The confederation question--The difficulty of obtaining desirable
immigrants--The only real key to the Natal native question--Folly of
accepting self-government till it is solved._
Natal has an area of about 18,000 square miles, and its present
population is, roughly, 25,000 whites and 400,000 natives of the Zulu
race. When, in 1843, it first became a British colony, the number of
natives living within its borders was very small, and they were for the
most part wanderers, fragmentary remnants of the tribes that Chaka had
destroyed. I shall probably be under, rather than over the mark, if I
say, that the Zulu population of the colony has multiplied itself by ten
during the last thirty years. Two causes have combined to bring about
this extraordinary increase; firstly, wholesale immigration from the
surrounding territories; and secondly, the practice of polygamy.
This immigration has been due to a great want of foresight, or want of
knowledge, on the part of the Home authorities, who have allowed it to
go on without check or hindrance till it has, in conjunction with its
twin evil polygamy, produced the state of affairs it is my object to
describe. Ever since its first establishment as a colony Natal has been
turned into a city of refuge for the native inhabitants of Zululand, the
Transvaal, Swaziland, and elsewhere. If news came to a Zulu chief that
his king purposed to eat him up, he at once fled across the Tugela with
his wives and followers and settled in Natal. If the Boers or Swazis
destroyed a tribe, the remnant found its way to Natal.
That country, indeed, is to the South African native a modern Isles of
the Blest. Once across the border line, and, whatever his crime, he
is in a position to defy his worst enemy, and can rest secure in the
protection of the Home and local Governments, and of the enactments
specially passed to protect him and his privileges. The Government
allots him land, or if it does not he squats on private land: bringing
with him his own peculiar and barbarous customs. In all the world I do
not know a race more favoured by circumstances than the Natal Zulus.
They live on the produce of the fields that their wives cultivate, or
rather scratch, doing little or no work, and having no occasion to do
any. They are very rich, and their taxes are a mere trifle, fifteen
shillings per annum for each hut. They bear no share of the curse that
comes to all other men as a birthright; they need not labour. Protected
by a powerful Government, they do not fear attack from without, or
internal disorder. What all men desire, riches and women, are theirs in
abundance, and even their children, the objects of so much expense and
sore perplexity to civilised parents, are to them a source of wealth.
Their needs are few; a straw hut, corn for food, and the bright sun.
They are not even troubled with the thought of a future life, but, like
the animals, live through their healthy, happy days, and at last, in
extreme old age, meet a death which for them has no terrors, because it
simply means extinction. When compared to that of civilised races, or
even of their own brethren in the interior, their lot is indeed a happy
one.
But the stream of immigration, continuous though it has been, would not
by itself have sufficed to bring up the native population to its present
enormous total, without the assistance of the polygamous customs of the
immigrants.
I believe that inquirers have ascertained, that, as a general rule, the
practice of polygamy has not the effect of bringing about an abnormal
growth of population. However this may be elsewhere, in Natal, owing in
great measure to the healthy customs of the Zulu race,[*] the rate of
increase is unprecedented. Many writers and other authorities consider
polygamy as an institution, to be at once wicked and disgusting. As to
its morality, it is a point upon which it is difficult to express any
opinion, nor, indeed, does the question enter into the scope of what I
have to say; but it must be remembered that in the case of the Zulu his
whole law and existence is mixed up with the institution, and that it
is necessary to him to repair the gaps made in his ranks by war. Violent
anti-polygamists in this country always make a strong point of the
cruelty it is supposed to involve to the women, and talk about the
“violation of their holiest feelings.” As a matter of fact, sad as it
may appear, the Zulu women are much attached to the custom, nor would
they, as a general rule, consent to marry a man who only purposed taking
one wife. There are various reasons for this: for instance, the first
wife is a person of importance, and takes precedence of all the others,
a fact as much appreciated by the Zulu woman as by the London lady.
Again, the more wives there are, the more wealth it brings into the
family, since in the ordinary course of nature more wives mean more
female children, who, when they come to a marriageable age, mean in
their turn at least ten cows each (the Government price for a wife). The
amount thus obtained is placed to the credit of the estate of the mother
of the girl married, and for this reason all Zulu women are extremely
anxious to have children, especially female children. Finally, the
liking of Zulu women for the custom is bred in them. It has been going
on for countless generations, and it is probable that it will go on for
so long as the race endures. Nations do not change such habits unless
the change is forced on them, with the alternative of extermination.
[*] As soon as a Zulu woman is discovered to be pregnant,
her husband ceases to cohabit with her, nor does he live
with her again until the child is weaned, eighteen months,
and sometimes two years, after its birth.
Polygamy will never be eradicated by moral persuasion, because, even
if a native could be brought to think it wrong, which is in itself
impossible, its abolition would affect his interests irredeemably. A
Zulu’s wives are also his servants; they plough his land and husband his
grain, in addition to bearing his children. Had he but one wife most
of her time would be taken up with the latter occupation, and then the
mealie-planting and gathering would necessarily fall to the lot of
the husband, a state of affairs he would never consent to. Again, if
monogamy were established, girls would lose their value, and a great
source of wealth would be destroyed. It must, however, be understood
that Zulu girls are not exactly sold; the cows received by the parents
are by a legal fiction supposed to be a gift presented, not a price
paid. Should the wife subsequently run away, they are, I believe,
returnable.
On these subjects, as is not to be wondered at when so many interests
are concerned, the Zulu law is a little intricate. The cleverest
counsel in the Temple could not give an opinion on such a case as the
following:--
A. has four wives and children by Nos. 1 and 3. On his death his
brother, B., a rich man, takes over his wives and property, and has
children by each of the four women. He has also children by other wives.
On his death, in extreme old age, how should the property be divided
amongst the descendants of the various marriages?
It is clear that if such a case as this is to be dealt with at all
it must be under native law, and this is one of the great dangers of
polygamy. Once rooted in a state it necessitates a double system of
laws, since civilised law is quite unable to cope with the cases daily
arising from its practice. It is sometimes argued that the law employed
is a matter of indifference, provided that substantial justice is done,
according to the ideas of people concerned, and this is doubtless very
true if it is accepted as a fact that the Zulu population of Natal is
always to remain in its present condition of barbarism. To continue
to administer their law is to give it the sanction of the white man’s
authority, and every day that it is so administered makes it more
impossible to do away with it. I say “more impossible” advisedly,
because I believe its abrogation is already impossible. There is no
satisfactory way out of the difficulty, because it has its roots in,
and draws its existence from, the principle of polygamy, which I believe
will last while the people last.
Some rely on the Missionary to effect this stupendous change, and turn a
polygamous people into monogamists. But it is a well-known fact that the
missionaries produce no more permanent effect on the Zulu mind than a
child does on the granite rock which he chips at with a chisel. How many
real Christians are there in Zululand and Natal, and of that select and
saintly band how many practise monogamy? But very few, and among those
few there is a large proportion of bad characters, men who have
adopted Christianity as a last resource. I mean no disrespect to the
missionaries, many of whom are good men, doing their best under the most
unpromising conditions, though some are simply traders and political
agitators. But the fact remains the same. Christianity makes no
appreciable progress amongst the Zulu natives, whilst, on the other
hand, no one having any experience in the country will, if he can avoid
it, have a so-called Christian Kafir in his house, because the term is
but too frequently synonymous with that of drunkard and thief. I do not
wish it to be understood that it is the fact of his Christianity that so
degrades the Zulu, because I do not think it has anything to do with it.
It is only that the novice, standing on the threshold of civilisation,
as a rule finds the vices of the white man more congenial than his
virtues.
The Zulus are as difficult to convince of the truths of Christianity as
were the Jews, whom they so much resemble in their customs. They have a
natural disinclination to believe that which they cannot see, and, being
constitutionally very clever and casuistical, are prepared to argue each
individual point with an ability very trying to missionaries. It was one
of these Zulus, known as the Intelligent Zulu, but in reality no more
intelligent than his fellows, whose shrewd remarks first caused doubts
to arise in the mind of Bishop Colenso, and through him in those of
thousands of others.
Another difficulty in the way of the Missionary is, that he is obliged
to insist on the putting away of surplus wives, and thus to place
himself out of court at the outset. It is quite conceivable that in the
opinion of wild and savage men, it is preferable to let the new teaching
alone, rather than to adopt it at the cost of such a radical change
in their domestic arrangements. As a case in point I may quote that of
Hlubi, the Basutu appointed chief of one of the divisions of Zululand,
by Sir G. Wolseley. Hlubi is at heart a Christian, and a good man, and
anxious to be baptized. The missionaries, however, refuse to baptize
him, because he has two wives. Hlubi therefore remains a heathen,
saying, not unnaturally, that he feels it would be impossible for him to
put away a woman with whom he has lived for so many years.
Whilst polygamy endures Christianity will advance with but small
strides. It seems to me that we are beginning at the wrong end. We must
civilise first and Christianise afterwards. As well try to sow corn
among rocks and look to gather a full crop, as expect the words of
Grace and Divine love to bear fruit in the hearts of a people whose
forefathers have for countless generations been men of blood, whose
prized traditions are one long story of slaughter, and who, if they
are now at peace are, as it were, only gathering strength for a surer
spring. First, the soil must be prepared before the seed is sown.
To do this there is but one way. Abolish native customs and laws,
especially polygamy, and bring our Zulu subjects within the pale of our
own law. Deprive them of their troops of servants in the shape of wives,
and thus force them to betake themselves to honest labour like the rest
of mankind.
There is only one objection in the way of the realisation of this
scheme, which would, doubtless, bring about, in the course of a
generation, a much better state of things, and gather many thousand
converts into the fold of the Church; and that is, the opportunity has,
so far as Natal is concerned, been missed--the time has gone by when it
could have been carried out. To young countries, as to young men, there
come sometimes opportunities of controlling their future destinies
which, if not seized at the moment, pass away for ever, or only to
return after long and troubled years. Natal has had her chance, and it
has gone away from her, though through no fault of her own. If, when the
colony was first settled, the few natives who then lived there had
been forced to conform to the usages of civilised life or to quit its
borders; if refugees had been refused admission save on the same terms,
it would not occupy the very serious position it does at the present
moment.
To understand the situation into which Natal has drifted with reference
to its native inhabitants, it is necessary to premise that that country
has hitherto had practically no control over its own affairs, more
especially as regards native legislation.
In its early days it was a happy, quiet place, a favoured clime, where
the traveller or settler could find good shooting, cheap labour,
and cheap living. No enemy threatened its rest, and the natives were
respectful and peaceful in their behaviour. But it was in those days
that the native difficulty, that Upas tree that now overshadows and
poisons the whole land, took root; for slowly, from all parts, all
through that quiet time, by ones, by tens, by hundreds, refugees
were flowing in, and asking and receiving land to settle on from the
Government.
It is not, however, to be supposed that the local officials did not
perceive the gathering danger, since it has again and again been pointed
out to different Secretaries of State, and again and again been
ignored by them, or put off for the consideration of their successors.
Hand-to-mouth legislation has always been the characteristic of our rule
in South Africa. On one occasion Sir Theophilus, then Mr. Shepstone,
went so far as to offer to personally draw off a large portion of the
native population, and settle them on some vacant territory bordering
on the Cape Colony, but the suggestion was not acceded to, for fear
lest the execution of the scheme should excite disturbances amongst the
natives of the Cape. Thus year after year has passed away--plan after
plan has been put aside,--and nothing has been done.
In the colony a great deal of abuse is poured out on the head of Sir T.
Shepstone, to whom the present native situation is unjustly attributed
by a certain party of politicians. Sir T. Shepstone was for very many
years Secretary for Native Affairs in Natal, but until he came to
England, shortly before the termination of his official career, he was
personally unknown to the Colonial Office, and had no influence there.
It was totally out of his power to control the policy of the Home
Government with reference to the Natal natives; he could only take
things as he found them, and make the best of such materials as came to
his hand. As he could not keep the natives out of the colony or prevent
polygamy, he did what he could towards making them loyal and contented
subjects. How well he succeeded, and with what consummate tact and
knowledge he must have exercised his authority, is shown by the fact
that in all these years there has been but one native disturbance,
namely that of Langalibalele, and by the further fact that the loyalty
of the Natal Zulus stood the strain of the Zulu war. Also, there never
has been, and probably never will be, another white man so universally
beloved and reverenced by the natives throughout the length and breadth
of South Africa.
But Sir T. Shepstone’s influence for good will pass away, as all purely
personal influence must, and meanwhile, what is the situation? On
the one hand, there is a very slowly increasing, scattered, and mixed
population of about 25,000 whites, capable, at the outside, of putting a
force of 4000 men in the field. On the other, there is a warlike native
population, united by the ties of race and common interests, numbering
at the present moment between 400,000 and 500,000, and increasing by
leaps and bounds: capable of putting quite 80,000 warriors into the
field, and possessing, besides, numerous strongholds called locations.
At present these two rival populations live side by side in peace and
amity, though at heart neither loves the other. The two races are so
totally distinct that it is quite impossible for them to have much
community of feeling; they can never mingle; their ideas are different,
their objects are different, and in Natal their very law is different.
Kafirs respect and like individual Englishmen, but I doubt whether they
are particularly fond of us as a race, though they much prefer us to any
other white men, and are devoted to our rule, so long as it is necessary
to them. The average white man, on the other hand, detests the Kafir,
and looks on him as a lazy good-for-nothing, who ought to work for him
and will not work for him, whilst he is quite incapable of appreciating
his many good points. It is an odd trait about Zulus that only
gentlemen, in the true sense of the word, can win their regard, or get
anything out of them.
It is obvious that, sooner or later, these two races must come into
contact, the question being how long the present calm will last. To this
question I will venture to suggest an answer,--I believe the right one.
It will last until the native gets so cramped for room that he has no
place left to settle on, except the white man’s lands. The white man
will then try to turn him off, whereupon the native will fall back on
the primary resource of killing him, and possessing himself of the land
by force. This plan, simultaneously carried out on a large scale, would
place the colony at the mercy of its native inhabitants.
Nor is the time so very far distant when Englishmen and Zulus will stand
face to face over this land question. In the early days of the colony,
locations were established in the mountainous districts, because they
were comparatively worthless, and the natives were settled in them by
tribes. Of what goes on in these locations very little is known, except
that they are crowded, and that the inhabitants are as entirely wedded
to their savage customs as their forefathers were before them. As there
is no more room in the locations, many thousands of Kafirs have settled
upon private lands, sometimes with and sometimes without the leave
of the owners. But, for many reasons, this is a state of affairs that
cannot go on for ever. In a few years, the private lands will be filled
up, as well as the locations, and what then?
Zulus are a people who require a very large quantity of land, since they
possess great numbers of cattle which must have grazing room. Also their
cultivation being of the most primitive order, and consisting as it does
of picking out the very richest patches of land, and cropping them till
they are exhausted, all ordinary land being rejected as too much trouble
to work, the possession, or the right of usor, of several hundred acres
is necessary to the support of a single family. Nor, if we may judge
from precedent, and its well-marked characteristics, is it to be
supposed that this race will at the pinch suit itself to circumstances,
take up less land, and work harder. Zulus would rather fight to the last
than discard a cherished and an ancient custom. Savages they are,
and savages they will remain, and in the struggle between them and
civilisation it is possible that they may be conquered, but I do not
believe that they will be converted. The Zulu Kafir is incompatible with
civilisation.
It will be seen, from what I have said, that Natal might more properly
be called a Black settlement than an English colony. Looking at it from
the former point of view, it is a very interesting experiment. For the
first time probably since their race came into existence, Zulu natives
have got a chance given them of increasing and multiplying without being
periodically decimated by the accidents of war, whilst at the same time
enjoying the protection of a strong and a just government. It remains
to be seen what use they will make of their opportunity. That they will
avail themselves of it for the purposes of civilising themselves I do
not believe; but it seems to me possible that they will learn from
the white man the advantages of combination, and aim at developing
themselves into a powerful and united black nation.
It is in the face of this state of things that Lord Kimberley now
proposes to grant responsible government to the white inhabitants of
Natal, should they be willing to accept it, providing that it is to
carry with it the responsibility of ruling the natives, and further, of
defending the colony from the attacks of its neighbours, whether white
or coloured.
Natal has hitherto been ruled under a hybrid constitution, which, whilst
allowing the Legislative Assembly of the colony to pass laws, &c.,
reserves all real authority to the Crown. There has, however, been
for some years past a growing agitation amongst a proportion of its
inhabitants, instituted with the object of inducing the Home Government
to concede practical independence to the colony, Her Majesty having
on several occasions been petitioned on the subject by the Legislative
Council. On the 13th February 1880, Sir G. Wolseley, who was at the
time Governor of Natal, wrote what I can only call, a very intemperate
despatch to the Secretary of State, commenting on the prayer for
responsible government, which he strongly condemned. He also took
the opportunity to make a series of somewhat vicious attacks on the
colonists in general, whose object in asking for independence was, he
implied, to bring the black man in relations of “appropriate servitude
to his white superior.” It would appear, however, from words used by him
towards the end of his despatch, that the real reason of his violence
was, that he feared, that one of the first acts of the Natal Parliament
would be to put an end to his settlement in Zululand, which was and
is the laughing-stock of the colony. He was probably right in this
supposition. The various charges he brings against the colonists
are admirably and conclusively refuted in a minute adopted by the
Legislative Council of Natal, dated 20th December 1880.
In a despatch, dated 15th March 1881, Lord Kimberley refuses to accede
to the request for the grant of Responsible Government.
On the 28th of December, the Legislative Council again petitioned the
Crown on the subject, and forward to Lord Kimberley a report of a Select
committee appointed to consider the matter, in which the following words
occur:--
“Your committee hold that while the colony may well be held responsible
for its defence from such aggression as may be caused by the acts or
policy of a responsible government, it cannot justly be saddled with the
obligation to meet acts of aggression from bordering territories
that have arisen out of the circumstances or measures over which such
government have had no control; although, as a matter of fact, the brunt
of defence (must be borne?) in the first instance by the colonists.
The Council, therefore, neither exercises, nor desires to exercise, any
control over territories adjacent to or bordering on the colony; for the
preservation of its own internal peace and order the colony is prepared
to provide. The duty of protecting the colony from external foes,
whether by sea or land, devolves on the Empire as a whole, otherwise to
be a section of that Empire constitutes no real privilege.”
To this report, somewhat to the surprise of the Natalians, Lord
Kimberley returned, in a despatch addressed to Sir H. Bulwer, on the
occasion of his departure to take up the Governorship of Natal, and
dated 2d February 1882, a most favourable reply. In fact, he is so
obliging as to far exceed the wishes of the Natalians, as expressed in
the passage just quoted, and to tell them that Her Majesty’s Government
is not only ready to give them responsible government, but that it
will expect them to defend their own frontiers, independently of any
assistance from the Imperial Government. He further informs them that
the Imperial troops will be withdrawn, and that the only responsibility
Her Majesty’s Government will retain with reference to the colony will
be that of its defence against aggression by foreign powers.
This sudden change of face on the part of the Imperial Government, which
had up till now flatly refused to grant _any measure_ of self-government
to Natal, may at first seem rather odd, but on examination it will
be found to be quite in accordance with the recently developed South
African policy of Mr. Gladstone’s Government. There is little doubt
that it is an article of faith among the Liberal party that the less
the mother-country has to do with her colonies, and more especially
her South African colonies, the better. A grand step was made in
the direction of the abandonment of our South African Empire when we
surrendered the Transvaal to the Boers, and it is clear that if our
troops can be withdrawn from Natal and all responsibility for the safety
of that colony put an end to, the triumph of self-effacement will be
still more complete. But there is another and more immediate reason
for Lord Kimberley’s generous offer. He knows, no one better, that
the policy pursued in South Africa, both as regards the Transvaal and
Zululand, must produce its legitimate fruit--bloodshed--before very
long. He, or rather his Government, is consequently anxious to cut the
connection before anything of the sort occurs, when they will be able to
attribute the trouble, whatever it is, to the ill-advised action of the
Colonial Legislature.
What is still more strange, however, is that the colonists, having
regard to the position they occupy with reference to the Kafirs that
surround them, to whom they bear the same relative proportion that the
oases do in the desert, or the islands of an archipelago to the ocean
that washes their shores, should wish for such a dangerous boon as that
of self-government, if indeed they really do wish it. When I lived in
Natal, I often heard the subject discussed, and watched the Legislative
Council pass its periodical resolutions about it, but I confess I always
looked on the matter as being more or less of a farce. There exists,
however, in Natal a knot of politicians who are doubtless desirous
of the change, partly because they think that it would be really
beneficial, and partly because they are possessed by a laudable ambition
to fill the high positions of Prime Minister, Treasurer, &c., in the
future Parliament. But these gentlemen for the most part live in towns,
where they are comparatively safe should a native rising occur. I have
not noticed the same enthusiasm for responsible government among those
Natalians who live up country in the neighbourhood of the locations.
Still there does exist a considerable party who are in favour of the
change, a party that has recently sprung into existence. Many things
have occurred within the last few years to irritate and even exasperate
people in Natal with the Imperial Government, and generally with the
treatment that they have received at our hands. For instance, colonists
are proverbially sensitive, and it is therefore rather hard that every
newspaper correspondent or itinerant bookmaker who comes to their
shores, should at once proceed to print endless letters and books
abusing them without mercy. The fact of the matter is that these
gentlemen come, and put up at the hotels and pot-shops, where they meet
all the loafers and bad characters in the country, whom they take to be
specimens of the best class of colonists, whom they describe accordingly
as the “riddlings of society.” Into the quiet, respectable, and happy
homes that really give the tone to the colony they do not enter.
It is also a favourite accusation to bring against the people of Natal
that they make the South African wars in order to make money out of
them. For instance, in a leading article of one of the principal English
journals, it was stated not long ago, that the murmurs of the colonists
at being forced to eat the bread of humiliation in the Transvaal
matter, arose from no patriotic feeling, but from sorrow at the early
termination of a war out of which they hoped to suck no small advantage.
This statement is quite untrue.
No doubt a great deal of money has been made out of the wars by a few
colonial speculators, some of it, maybe, dishonestly; but this is not
an unusual occurrence in a foreign war. Was no money made dishonestly
by English speculators and contractors in the Crimean War? Cannot
Manchester boast manufacturers ready to supply our enemies,--for cash
payments,--with guns to shoot us with, or any other material of war?
It is not to be supposed that because a few speculators made fortunes
out of the Commissariat that the whole colony participated in the spoils
of the various wars. On the contrary, the marjority of its inhabitants
have suffered very largely. Not only have they run considerable personal
risk, but since, and owing to, the Zulu and Boer wars the cost of living
has almost, if not quite doubled, which, needless to say, has not been
the case with their incomes. It is therefore particularly cruel that
Natal should be gibbeted as the abode of scoundrels of the worst sort,
men prepared to bring about bloodshed in order to profit by it. Sir
Garnet Wolseley, however, found in this report of colonial dishonesty
a convenient point of vantage from which to attack the colonists
generally, and in his despatch about responsible government we may be
sure he did not spare them. The Legislative Council thus comments on his
remarks: “To colonists a war means the spreading among them of distress,
alarm, and confusion, peril to life and property in outlying districts,
the arrest of progress, and general disorganisation. . . . The Council
regard with pain and indignation the uncalled-for and cruel stigma thus
cast upon the colonists by Sir Garnet Wolseley.”
At first sight these accusations may not appear to have much to do with
the question of whether or no the colonists should accept responsible
government, but in reality they have, inasmuch as they create a
feeling of soreness that inclines the Natalians to get rid of Imperial
interference and the attendant criticism at any price.
More substantial grievances against the English Government are the
present condition of the native problem, which the colonists justly
attribute to Imperial mismanagement, and that triumph of genius, Sir
Garnet Wolseley’s settlement in Zululand. They see these evils, which
they know were preventable, growing more formidable day by day, and they
imagine, or some of them do, that if they had free institutions it would
still be in their power to stop that growth.
The whole question has now been referred to the colony, which is
to elect a fresh Legislative Assembly on the issue of responsible
government. The struggle between “the party of progress,” i.e., the
responsible government section, and the reactionists, or those who
are prepared to dispense with “freedom,” provided they can be sure of
safety, is being carried on keenly, and at present it is doubtful which
side will have a majority. I do not, however, believe that the majority
of any Council returned will consent to accept Lord Kimberley’s proposal
as it stands; to walk into a parlour in which the spider is so very
obvious, and to deliberately undertake the guardianship of all the
Imperial interests in South-Eastern Africa. If they do, they will, in my
opinion, deserve all they will get.[*]
[*] Since this chapter was written the Natal constituencies
have, as I thought probable, declared against the acceptance
of Lord Kimberley’s offer in its present form, by returning
a majority of anti-responsible Government men. It is,
however, probable that the new Legislative Council will try
to re-open negotiations on a different, or, at any rate, a
modified basis.
The Natalians are fortunate at the present crisis in having, by dint of
vigorous agitation against the appointment of Mr. Sendall, a gentleman
selected by Lord Kimberley to govern them, obtained the reappointment
of their former Governor, Sir Henry Bulwer. Sir Henry, during his
first tenure of office, lost credit with the South African colonists
on account of his lukewarmness with reference to the Zulu war, but the
course of events has gone far towards justifying his views. He is one
of the most hard-working and careful Governors that Natal has ever had,
and, perhaps, the most judicious. Of a temperate and a cautious mind,
he may be more safely trusted to pilot a country so surrounded with
difficulties and dangers as Natal is, than most men, and it is to be
hoped that the application to the questions of the day, of the strong
common sense that he possesses in such an eminent degree, may have a
cooling effect on the hot heads and excited imaginations of the “party
of progress.”
In considering the pros and cons of the responsible government question,
it must be steadily kept in sight that Natal is not likely to be a
country with a peaceful future. To begin with, she has her native
inhabitants to deal with. To-day they number, say 450,000, fifteen or
twenty years hence they will number a million, or perhaps more. These
men are no longer the docile overgrown children they were twenty years
ago. The lessons of our performances in the Zulu and Boer wars, more
especially the latter, have not been lost upon them, and they
are beginning to think that the white man, instead of being the
unconquerable demigod they thought him, is somewhat of a humbug.
Pharaoh, we know, grew afraid of the Israelites; Natal, with a much
weaker power at command than that of Pharaoh, has got to cope with a
still more dangerous element, and one that cannot be induced to depart
into the wilderness.
And after all what does the power of Natal amount to? Let us be liberal,
and say six thousand men, it is the outside. In the event of a native
rising, or any other serious war, I believe that of this number, at
least two thousand would make themselves scarce. There exists in all
colonies a floating element of individuals who have drifted there for
the purpose of making money, but who have no real affection for the
(temporary) country of their adoption. Their capital is, as a rule,
small and easily realised, and the very last thing that they would think
of doing, would be to engage in a deadly life or death struggle, on
behalf of a land that they only look on as a milch cow, out of which
their object is to draw as much as possible. On the contrary, they would
promptly seek another cow, leaving the old one to the tender mercies of
the butcher.
Their defection would leave some 4000 men to cope with the difficulty,
whatever it was, of which number at least 1000 would be ineffective from
age and various other causes, whilst of the remainder, quite 1000 would
be obliged to remain where they were to protect women and children in
outlying districts. This would leave a total effective force of 2000
men, or, deducting 500 for garrison purposes, of 1500 ready to take the
field. But it would take some time to collect, arm, and equip even this
number, and in the meanwhile, in the case of a sudden and preconcerted
native rising, half the inhabitants of the colony would be murdered in
detail.
But Natalians have got other dangers to fear besides those arising from
the presence of this vast mass of barbarism in their midst. After
a period of anarchy a new king may possess himself of the throne of
Zululand, and it is even possible that he might, under circumstances
that will arise hereafter, lead his armies into Natal, and create
a difficulty with which the 1500 available white men would find it
difficult to cope. Or the Boers of the Orange Free State and Transvaal
may get tired of paying customs dues at Durban, and march 5000 men down
to take possession of the port! Perhaps Natal might provide herself with
an effective force by enrolling an army of 10,000 or 20,000 Kafirs,
but it seems to me that the proceeding would be both uncertain and
expensive, and, should the army take it into its head to mutiny, very
dangerous to boot.
It is a noticeable fact that those who so ardently advocate the
acceptance of Lord Kimberley’s offer, in all their speeches, addresses,
and articles, almost entirely shirk this question of defence, which
is, after all, the root of the matter. I have formed my estimate of the
number of men forthcoming in time of danger, on the supposition that a
burgher law was in force in Natal, that is, that every man remaining in
the country should be obliged to take a part in its defence. But they
do not even hint at a burgher law--in fact, they repudiate the idea,
because they know that it would not be tolerated. The universal service
system is not the Natalian’s idea of happiness. They simply avoid the
question, calling it the “defence bugbear,” and assume that it will all
be arranged in some unforeseen way.
The only suggestion that I have yet seen as regards the arrangements
for the future defence of the colony should it become independent, is
a somewhat ominous one, namely:--that Natal should enter into a close
alliance, offensive and defensive, with the Transvaal and the Orange
Free State. But, as the advocates of “freedom” would soon find, the
Orange Free State (for even if willing to help them, the Transvaal will
for some years have enough to do with its own affairs) will not come
forward for nothing. There would first have to be a few business
formalities with reference to the customs dues collected in Durban, on
goods passing through to the interior, which yield the bulk of the
Natal revenue: and possibly, some concessions to Boer public opinion as
regards the English mode of dealing with the Natal natives. I incline
to the opinion that in relying on the assistance of the Boers in time of
trouble the inhabitants of Natal would be leaning on a broken reed. They
are more likely to find them in arms against them than fighting on their
side.
The party of progress also talks much about the prospects of
confederation with the Cape, if once they get responsible government.
Most people, however, will think that the fact of their being
independent, and therefore responsible for their own defence, will
hardly prove an inducement to the Cape to offer to share those
responsibilities. The only confederation possible to Natal as a
self-governing community will be a Boer confederation, to which it
may be admitted--on certain terms. Another cry is that the moment
responsible government is established immigrants will flow into the
country, and thus restore the balance of races. I take the liberty to
doubt the truth of this supposition. The intending emigrant from Europe
does not, it is true, understand the ins and outs of the Natal native
question, but he does now that it is a place where there are wars and
rumours of wars, and where he might possibly be killed, and the result
is that he wisely goes to some other colony, that has equal advantages
to offer and no Kafirs. To suppose that the emigrant would go to Natal
when he came to understand that it was an independent settlement of a
few white men, living in the midst of a mass of warlike Kafirs, when
Australia, New Zealand, Canada, and the United States, are all holding
out their arms to him, is to suppose him a bigger fool than he is.
At the best of times Natal is not likely to attract many desirable
emigrants: under a responsible government I do not believe that it will
attract any.
It seems to me, that there is only one condition of affairs under
which it would be at all possible for the Natalians to assume the
responsibilities of self-government with any safety, and that is when
the great bulk of the native population has been removed back to whence
it came--Zululand. Causes of a diametrically opposite nature to
those that have been at work among the natives of Natal, have been in
operation amongst their brethren in Zululand. In Natal, peace, polygamy,
plenty and immigration have bred up an enormous native population. In
Zululand, war, private slaughter by the king’s order, and the severe
restrictions put upon marriage, have kept down the increase of the race;
also an enormous number of individuals have fled from the one country
into the other. I do not suppose that the population of Zululand
amounts, at the present moment, to much more than half that of Natal.
In this state of affairs lies the only real key to the Natal native
difficulty. Let Zululand be converted into a black colony under
English control, and its present inhabitants be established in suitable
locations; then let all the natives of Natal, with the exception of
those who choose to become monogamists and be subject to civilised law,
be moved into Zululand, and also established in locations. There would
be plenty of room for them all. Of course there would be difficulties in
the way of the realisation of this scheme, but I do not think that they
would prove insuperable. It is probable, however, that it would require
a show of force before the Natal natives would consent to budge. Indeed,
it is absurd to suppose, that anything would induce them to leave
peaceful Natal, and plunge into the seething cauldron of bloodshed,
extortion, and political plots that we have cooked up in Zululand under
the name of a settlement. Proper provisions must first be made for
the government of the country, and security to life and property made
certain. Till this is done, no natives in their senses will return to
Zululand.
Till this is done, too, or till some other plan is discovered by means
of which the native difficulty can be effectively dealt with, the
Natalians will indeed be foolish if they discard the protection of
England, and accept the fatal boon of self-government. If they do, their
future career may be brilliant; but I believe that it will be brief.
It is no answer to urge that at present the natives seem quite quiet,
and that there is no indication of disturbance.
History tells us that before the destruction of doomed Pompeii,
Vesuvius was very still; only day by day the dark cloud hanging over
the mountain’s summit grew denser and blacker. We know what happened to
Pompeii.
I do not wish to suggest anything unpleasant, far from it; but
sometimes, I cannot help thinking, that it is perhaps a matter worth the
consideration of the Natalians, whether it might not be as well, instead
of talking about responsible government: to improve upon the example of
the inhabitants of Pompeii, and take to their ships _before_ the volcano
begins to work.
It seems to me that there is an ugly cloud gathering on the political
horizon in Natal.
THE TRANSVAAL
CHAPTER I
ITS INHABITANTS, LAWS, AND CUSTOMS
_Invasion by Mosilikatze--Arrival of the emigrant Boers--Establishment
of the South African republic--The Sand River convention--Growth of
the territory of the republic--The native tribes surrounding
it--Capabilities of the country--Its climate--Its inhabitants--The
Boers--Their peculiarities and mode of life--Their abhorrence of
settled government and payment of taxes--The Dutch patriotic party--Form
of government previous to the annexation--Courts of law--The commando
system--Revenue arrangements--Native races in the Transvaal._
The Transvaal is a country without a history. Its very existence
was hardly known of until about fifty years ago. Of its past we know
nothing. The generations who peopled its great plains have passed
utterly out of the memory and even the traditions of man, leaving no
monument to mark that they have existed, not even a tomb.
During the reign of Chaka, 1813-1828, whose history has been sketched
in a previous chapter, one of his most famous generals, Mosilikatze,
surnamed the Lion, seceded from him with a large number of his soldiers,
and striking up in a north-westerly direction, settled in or about what
is now the Morico district of the Transvaal. The country through which
Mosilikatze passed was at that time thickly populated with natives
of the Basutu or Macatee race, whom the Zulus look upon with great
contempt. Mosilikatze expressed the feelings of his tribe in a practical
manner, by massacring every living soul of them that came within his
reach. That the numbers slaughtered were very great, the numerous ruins
of Basutu kraals all over the country testify.
It was Chaka’s intention to follow up Mosilikatze and destroy him,
but he was himself assassinated before he could do so. Dingaan, his
successor, however, carried out his brother’s design, and despatched
a large force to punish him. This army, after marching over 300 miles,
burst upon Mosilikatze, drove him back with slaughter, and returned
home triumphant. The invasion is important, because the Zulus claim the
greater part of the Transvaal territory by virtue of it.
About the time that Mosilikatze was conquered, 1835-1840, the
discontented Boers were leaving the Cape Colony exasperated at the
emancipation of the slaves by the Imperial authorities. First they made
their way to Natal, but being followed thither by the English flag they
travelled further inland over the Vaal River and founded the town
of Mooi River Dorp or Potchefstroom. Here they were joined by other
malcontents from the Orange Sovereignty, which, although afterwards
abandoned, was at that time a British possession. Acting upon
The good old rule, the simple plan
Of let him take who has the power,
And let him keep who can,
the Boers now proceeded to possess themselves of as much territory as
they wanted. Nor was this a difficult task. The country was, as I have
said, peopled by Macatees, who are a poor-spirited race as compared to
the Zulus, and had had what little courage they possessed crushed out of
them by the rough handling they had received at the hands of Mosilikatze
and Dingaan. The Boers, they argued, could not treat them worse than the
Zulus had done. Occasionally a Chief, bolder than the rest, would hold
out, and then such an example was made of him and his people that few
cared to follow in his footsteps.
As soon as the Boers were fairly settled in their new home, they began
to think about setting up a Government. First they tried a system of
Commandants, with a Commandant-general, but this does not seem to have
answered. Next, those of their number who lived in Lydenburg district
(where the gold fields now are) set up a Republic, with a President and
Volksraad, or popular assembly. This example was followed by the other
white inhabitants of the country, who formed another Republic and
elected another President, with Pretoria for their capital. The two
republics were subsequently incorporated.
In 1852 the Imperial authorities, having regard to the expense of
maintaining an effective government over an unwilling people in an
undeveloped and half-conquered country, concluded a convention with the
emigrant Boers “beyond the Vaal River.” The following were the principal
stipulations of this convention, drawn up between Major Hogg and
Mr. Owen, Her Majesty’s Assistant-Commissioners for the settling and
adjusting of the affairs of the eastern and north-eastern boundaries of
the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope on the one part, and a deputation
representative of the emigrant farmers north of the Vaal River on the
other. It was guaranteed “in the fullest manner on the part of the
British Government to the emigrant farmers beyond the Vaal River the
right to manage their own affairs, and to govern themselves according
to their own laws, without any interference on the part of the
British Government, and that no encroachment shall be made by the said
Government on the territory beyond to the north of the Vaal River, with
the further assurance that the warmest wish of the British Government is
to promote peace, free trade, and friendly intercourse with the emigrant
farmers now inhabiting, or who hereafter may inhabit that country, it
being understood that this system of non-interference is binding on both
parties.”
Next were disclaimed, on behalf of the British Government, “all
alliances whatever and with whomsoever of the coloured nations to the
north of the Vaal River.”
It was also agreed “that no slavery is or shall be permitted or
practised in the country to the north of the Vaal River by the emigrant
farmers.”
It was further agreed “that no objection shall be made by any British
authority against the emigrant Boers purchasing their supplies of
ammunition in any of the British colonies and possessions of South
Africa; it being mutually understood that all trade in ammunition with
the native tribes is prohibited both by the British Government and the
emigrant farmers on both sides of the Vaal River.”
These were the terms of this famous convention, which is as slipshod in
its diction as it is vague in its meaning. What, for instance, is meant
by the territory to the north of the Vaal River? According to the letter
of the agreement, Messrs. Hogg and Owen ceded all the territory between
the Vaal and Egypt. This historical document was the Charta of the
new-born South African Republic. Under its provisions, the Boers, now
safe from interference on the part of the British, established their own
Government and promulgated their “Grond Wet,” or Constitution.
The history of the Republic between 1852 and 1876 is not very
interesting, and is besides too wearisome to enter into here. It
consists of an oft-told tale of civil broils, attacks on native tribes,
and encroachment on native territories. Until shortly before the
Annexation, every burgher was, on coming of age, entitled to receive
from the Government 6000 acres of land. As these rights were in the
early days of the Republic frequently sold to speculators for such
trifles as a bottle of brandy or half a dozen of beer, and as the seller
still required his 6000 acres: for a Boer considers it beneath his
dignity to settle on less, it is obvious that it required a very large
country to satisfy all demands. To meet these demands, the territories
of the Republic had to be stretched like an elastic band, and they were
stretched accordingly,--at the expense of the natives. The stretching
process was an ingenious one, and is very well described in a minute
written by Mr. Osborn, the late Magistrate at Newcastle, dated 22d
September, 1876, in these words:--
“The Boers, as they have done in other cases and are still doing,
encroached by degrees on native territory, commencing by obtaining
permission to graze stock upon portions of it at certain seasons of the
year, followed by individual graziers obtaining from native headmen
a sort of right or license to squat upon certain defined portions,
ostensibly in order to keep other Boer squatters away from the same
land. These licenses, temporarily intended as friendly or neighbourly
acts by unauthorised headmen, after a few seasons of occupation by
the Boer, are construed by him as title, and his permanent occupation
ensues. Damage for trespass is levied by him from the very man from whom
he obtained the right to squat, to which the natives submit out of fear
of the matter reaching the ears of the paramount chief, who would in all
probability severely punish them for opening the door to encroachment
by the Boer. After a while, however, the matter comes to a crisis in
consequence of the incessant disputes between the Boers and the natives;
one or other of the disputants lays the case before the paramount chief,
who, when hearing both parties, is literally frightened with violence
and threats by the Boer into granting him the land. Upon this the usual
plan followed by the Boer is at once to collect a few neighbouring
Boers, including a field cornet, or even an acting provisional field
cornet, appointed by the field cornet or provisional cornet, the latter
to represent the Government, although without instructions authorising
him to act in the matter. A few cattle are collected among themselves,
which the party takes to the chief, and his signature is obtained to a
written document alienating to the Republican Boers a large slice of all
his territory. The contents of this document are, as far as I can make
out, never clearly or intelligibly explained to the chief who signs and
accepts of the cattle under the impression that it is all in settlement
of hire for the grazing licenses granted by his headmen. This, I have no
hesitation in saying, is the usual method by which the Boers obtain
what they call cessions to them of territories by native chiefs. In
Secocoeni’s case they allege that his father Sequati cedes to them the
whole of his territory (hundreds of square miles) for a hundred head of
cattle.”
So rapidly did this progress go on that the little Republic to the
“North of the Vaal River,” had at the time of the Annexation grown into
a country of the size of France. Its boundaries had only been clearly
defined where they abutted on neighbouring White Communities, or on
the territories of great native powers, on which the Government had not
dared to infringe to any marked degree, such as those of Lo Bengula’s
people in the north. But wheresoever on the State’s borders there had
been no white Power to limit its advances, or where the native tribes
had found themselves too isolated or too weak to resist aggressions,
there the Republic had by degrees encroached and extended the shadow, if
not the substance, of its authority.
The Transvaal has a boundary line of over 1,600 miles in circumference,
and of this a large portion is disputed by different native tribes.
Speaking generally, the territory lies between the 22 and 28 degrees of
South Latitude and the 25 and 32 degrees of East Longitude, or between
the Orange Free State, Natal and Griqualand West on the south, and the
Limpopo River on the north; and between the Lebombo mountains on the
east, and the Kalihari desert on the west. On the north of its territory
live three great tribes, the Makalaka, the Matabele (descendants of
the Zulus who deserted Chaka under Mosilikatze) and the Matyana. These
tribes are all warlike. On the west, following the line down to the
Diamond Field territory, are the Sicheli, the Bangoaketsi, the Baralong
and the Koranna tribes. Passing round by Griqualand West, the Free
State, and Natal, we reach Zululand on the south-east corner; then
come the Lebombo mountains on the east, separating the Transvaal from
Amatonga land, and from the so-called Portuguese possessions, which
are entirely in the hands of native tribes, most of them subject to the
great Zulu chief, Umzeila, who has his stronghold in the north-east.
It will be observed that the country is almost surrounded by native
tribes. Besides these there are about one million native inhabitants
living within its borders. In one district alone, Zoutpansberg, it
is computed that there are 364,250 natives, as compared to about 750
whites.
If a beautiful and fertile country were alone necessary to make a state
and its inhabitants happy and prosperous, happiness and prosperity would
rain upon the Transvaal and the Dutch Boers. The capabilities of this
favoured land are vast and various. Within its borders are to be found
highlands and lowlands, vast stretches of rolling veldt like gigantic
sheep downs, hundreds of miles of swelling bushland, huge tracts of
mountainous country, and even little glades spotted with timber that
remind one of an English park. There is every possible variety of soil
and scenery. Some districts will grow all tropical produce, whilst
others are well suited for breeding sheep, cattle and horses. Most
of the districts will produce wheat and all other cereals in greater
perfection and abundance than any of the other South African colonies.
Two crops of cereals may be obtained from the soil every year, and
both the vine and tobacco are cultivated with great success. Coffee,
sugar-cane and cotton have been grown with profit in the northern parts
of the State. Also the undeveloped mineral wealth of the country is very
great. Its known minerals are gold, copper, lead, cobalt, iron, coal,
tin and plumbago: copper and iron having long been worked by the
natives. Altogether there is little doubt that the Transvaal is the
richest of all the South African states, and had it remained under
English rule it would, with the aid of English enterprise and capital,
have become a very wealthy and prosperous country. However there is
little chance of that now.
Perhaps the greatest charm of the Transvaal lies in its climate, which
is among the best in the world, and in all the southern districts very
healthy. During the winter months, that is from April to October, little
or no rain falls, and the climate is cold and bracing. In summer it is
rather warm, but not overpoweringly hot, the thermometer at Pretoria
averaging from 65 to 73 degrees, and in the winter from 59 to 56
degrees. The population of the Transvaal is estimated at about 40,000
whites, mostly of Dutch origin, consisting of about thirty vast
families: and one million natives. There are several towns, the largest
of which are Pretoria and Potchefstroom.
Such is the country that we annexed in 1877, and were drummed out of
in 1881. Now let us turn to its inhabitants. It has been the fashion to
talk of the Transvaal as though nobody but Boers lived in it. In reality
the inhabitants were divided into three classes: 1. Natives; 2. Boers;
3. English. I say were divided, because the English class can now hardly
be said to exist, the country having been made too hot to hold it, since
the war. The natives stand in the proportion of nearly twenty to one
to the whites. The Boers were in their turn much more numerous than the
English, but the latter owned nearly all the trading establishments in
the country, and also a very large amount of property.
The Transvaal Boers have been very much praised up by members of the
Government in England, and others who are anxious to advance their
interests, as against English interests. Mr. Gladstone, indeed, can
hardly find words strong enough to express his admiration of their
leaders, those “able men,” since they inflicted a national humiliation
on us; and doubtless they are a people with many good points. That they
are not devoid of sagacity can be seen by the way they have dealt with
the English Government.
The Boers are certainly a peculiar people, though they can hardly be
said to be “zealous of good works.” They are very religious, but their
religion takes it colour from the darkest portions of the Old Testament;
lessons of mercy and gentleness are not at all to their liking, and they
seldom care to read the Gospels. What they delight in are the stories of
wholesale butchery by the Israelites of old; and in their own position
they find a reproduction of that of the first settlers in the Holy Land.
Like them they think they are entrusted by the Almighty with the task
of exterminating the heathen native tribes around them, and are always
ready with a scriptural precedent for slaughter and robbery. The name of
the Divinity is continually on their lips, sometimes in connection with
very doubtful statements. They are divided into three sects, none of
which care much for the other two. These are the Doppers, who number
about half the population, the Orthodox Reform, and the Liberal Reform,
which is the least numerous. Of these three sects, the Doppers are
by far the most uncompromising and difficult to deal with. They much
resemble the puritans of Charles the First’s time, of the extreme
Hew-Agag-in-pieces stamp.
It is difficult to agree with those who call the Boers cowards, an
accusation which the whole of their history belies. A Boer does not like
fighting if he can avoid it, because he sets a high value on his own
life; but if he is cornered, he will fight as well as anybody else. The
Boers fought well enough, in the late war, though that, it is true, is
no great criterion of courage, since they were throughout flushed with
victory, and, owing to the poor shooting of the British troop, in but
little personal danger. One very unpleasant characteristic they have,
and that is an absence of regard for the truth, especially where land
is concerned. Indeed the national characteristic is crystallised into
a proverb, “I am no slave to my word.” It has several times happened to
me, to see one set of highly respectable witnesses in a land case, go
into the box and swear distinctly that they saw a beacon placed on a
certain spot, whilst an equal number on the other side will swear that
they saw it placed a mile away. Filled as they are with a land hunger,
to which that of the Irish peasant is a weak and colourless sentiment,
there is little that they will not do to gratify their taste. It is
the subject of constant litigation amongst them, and it is by no means
uncommon for a Boer to spend several thousand pounds in lawsuits over a
piece of land not worth as many hundreds.
Personally Boers are fine men, but as a rule ugly. Their women-folk are
good-looking in early life, but get very stout as they grow older. They,
in common with most of their sex, understand how to use their tongues;
indeed, it is said, that it was the women who caused the rising against
the English Government. None of the refinements of civilisation enter
into the life of an ordinary Boer. He lives in a way that would shock an
English labourer at twenty-five shillings the week, although he is very
probably worthy fifteen or twenty thousand pounds. His home is but too
frequently squalid and filthy to an extraordinary degree. He himself has
no education, and does not care that his children should receive any.
He lives by himself in the middle of a great plot of land, his nearest
neighbour being perhaps ten or twelve miles away, caring but little for
the news of the outside world, and nothing for its opinions, doing very
little work, but growing daily richer through the increase of his flocks
and herds. His expenses are almost nothing, and as he gets older, wealth
increases upon him. The events in his life consist of an occasional
trip on “commando,” against some native tribe, attending a few political
meetings, and the journeys he makes with his family to the nearest
town, some four times a year, in order to be present at “Nachtmaal”
or communion. Foreigners, especially Englishmen, he detests, but he is
kindly and hospitable to his own people. Living isolated as he does,
the lord of a little kingdom, he naturally comes to have a great idea of
himself, and a corresponding contempt for all the rest of mankind. Laws
and taxes are things distasteful to him, and he looks upon it as an
impertinence that any court should venture to call him to account for
his doings. He is rich and prosperous, and the cares of poverty, and all
the other troubles that fall to the lot of civilised men, do not affect
him. He has no romance in him, nor any of the higher feelings and
aspirations that are found in almost every other race; in short,
unlike the Zulu he despises, there is little of the gentleman in his
composition, though he is at times capable of acts of kindness and even
generosity. His happiness is to live alone in the great wilderness, with
his children, his men-servants and his maid-servants, his flocks and his
herds, the monarch of all he surveys. If civilisation presses him too
closely, his remedy is a simple one. He sells his farm, packs up his
goods and cash in his waggon, and starts for regions more congenially
wild. Such are some of the leading characteristics of that remarkable
product of South Africa, the Transvaal Boer, who resembles no other
white man in the world.
Perhaps, however, the most striking of all his oddities is his
abhorrence of all government, more especially if that government be
carried out according to English principles. The Boers have always been
more or less in rebellion; they rebelled against the rule of the Company
when the Cape belonged to Holland, they rebelled against the English
Government in the Cape, they were always in a state of semi-rebellion
against their own government in the Transvaal, and now they have for
the second time, with the most complete success, rebelled against the
English Government. The fact of the matter is that the bulk of their
number hate all Governments, because Governments enforce law and order,
and they hate the English Government worst of all, because it enforces
law and order most of all. It is not liberty they long for, but
license. The “sturdy independence” of the Boer resolves itself into a
determination not to have his affairs interfered with by any superior
power whatsoever, and not to pay taxes if he can possibly avoid it.
But he has also a specific cause of complaint against the English
Government, which would alone cause him to do his utmost to get rid of
it, and that is its mode of dealing with natives, which is radically
opposite to his own. This is the secret of Boer patriotism. To
understand it, it must be remembered that the Englishman and the Boer
look at natives from a different point of view. The Englishman, though
he may not be very fond of him, at any rate regards the Kafir as a
fellow human being with feelings like his own. The average Boer does
not. He looks upon the “black creature” as having been delivered into
his hand by the “Lord” for his own purposes, that is, to shoot and
enslave. He must not be blamed too harshly for this, for, besides
being naturally of a somewhat hard disposition, hatred of the native
is hereditary, and is partly induced by the history of many a bloody
struggle. Also the native hates the Boer fully as much as the Boer hates
the native, though with better reason. Now native labour is a necessity
to the Boer, because he will not as a rule do hard manual labour
himself, and there must be some one to plant and garner the crops, and
herd the cattle. On the other hand, the natives are not anxious to serve
the Boers, which means little or no pay and plenty of thick stick, and
sometimes worse. The result of this state of affairs is that the Boer
often has to rely on forced labour to a very great extent. But this is a
thing that an English Government will not tolerate, and the consequence
is that under its rule he cannot get the labour that is necessary to
him.
Then there is the tax question. If he lives under the English flag the
money has to be paid regularly, but under his own Government he pays or
not as he likes. It was this habit of his of refusing payment of taxes
that brought the Republic into difficulties in 1877, and that will ere
long bring it into trouble again. He cannot understand that cash is
necessary to carry on a Government, and looks upon a tax as though it
were so much money stolen from him. These things are the real springs of
the “sturdy independence” and the patriotism of the ordinary Transvaal
farmer. Doubtless, there are some who are really patriotic; for
instance, one of their leaders, Paul Kruger. But with the majority,
patriotism is only another word for unbounded license and forced labour.
These remarks must not be taken to apply to the Cape Boers, who are a
superior class of men, since they, living under a settled and civilised
Government, have been steadily improving, whilst their cousins,
living every man for his own hand, have been deteriorating. The old
Voortrekkers, the fathers and grandfathers of the Transvaal Boer of
to-day, were, without doubt, a very fine set of men, and occasionally
you may in the Transvaal meet individuals of the same stamp whom it is a
pleasure to know. But these are generally men of a certain age with some
experience of the world; the younger men are very objectionable in their
manners.
The real Dutch Patriotic party is not to be found in the Transvaal, but
in the Cape Colony. Their object, which, as affairs now are, is well
within the bounds of possibility, is by fair means or foul to swamp
the English element in South Africa, and to establish a great Dutch
Republic. It was this party, which consists of clever and well educated
men, who raised the outcry against the Transvaal Annexation, because it
meant an enormous extension of English influence, and who had the wit,
by means of their emissaries and newspapers, to work upon the feeling of
the ignorant Transvaal farmers until they persuaded them to rebel; and
finally, to avail themselves of the yearnings of English radicalism for
the disruption of the Empire and the minimisation of British authority,
to get the Annexation cancelled. All through this business the Boers
have more or less danced in obedience to strings pulled at Cape Town,
and it is now said that one of the chief wire-pullers, Mr. Hofmeyer, is
to be asked to become President of the Republic. These men are the real
patriots of South Africa, and very clever ones too, not the Transvaal
Boers, who vapour about their blood and their country and the accursed
Englishman to order, and are in reality influenced by very small
motives, such as the desire to avoid payment of taxes, or to hunt away
a neighbouring Englishman, whose civilisation and refinement are as
offensive as his farm is desirable. Such are the Dutch inhabitants of
the Transvaal. I will now give a short sketch of their institutions as
they were before the Annexation, and to which the community has reverted
since its recision, with, I believe, but few alterations.
The form of government is republican, and to all intents and purposes,
manhood suffrage prevails, supreme power resting in the people. The
executive power of the State centres in a President elected by the
people to hold office for a term of five years, every voter having a
voice in his election. He is assisted in the execution of his duties by
an Executive Council, consisting of the State Secretary and such other
three members as are selected for that purpose by the legislative body,
the Volksraad. The State Secretary holds office for four years, and is
elected by the Volksraad. The members of the Executive all have seats in
the Volksraad, but have no votes. The Volksraad is the legislative body
of the State, and consists of forty-two members. The country is divided
into twelve electoral districts, each of which has the right to return
three members; the Gold Fields have also the right of electing two
members, and the four principal towns, one member each. There is
no power in the State competent to either prorogue or dissolve the
Volksraad except that body itself, so that an appeal to the country on
a given subject or policy is impossible without its concurrence. Members
are elected for four years, but half retire by rotation every two years,
the vacancies being filled by re-elections. Members must have been
voters for three years, and be not less than thirty years of age, must
belong to a Protestant Church, be resident in the country, and owners
of immovable property therein. A father and son cannot sit in the same
Raad, neither can seats be occupied by coloured persons, bastards, or
officials.
For each electoral district there is a magistrate or Landdrost whose
duties are similar to those of a Civil Commissioner. These districts are
again subdivided into wards presided over by field cornets, who exercise
judicial powers in minor matters, and in times of war have considerable
authority. The Roman Dutch law is the common law of the country, as it
is of the colonies of the Cape of Good Hope and Natal, and of the Orange
Free State.
Prior to the Annexation justice was administered in a very primitive
fashion. First, there was the Landdrosts’ Court, from which an appeal
lay to a court consisting of the Landdrost and six councillors elected
by the public. This was a court of first instance as well as a court of
appeal. Then there was a Supreme Court, consisting of three Landdrosts
from three different districts, and a jury of twelve selected from the
burghers of the State. There was no appeal from this court, but cases
have sometimes been brought under the consideration of the Volksraad
as the supreme power. It is easy to imagine what the administration
of justice was like when the presidents of all the law courts in the
country were elected by the mob, not on account of their knowledge of
the law, but because they were popular. Suitors before the old Transvaal
courts found the law surprisingly uncertain. A High Court of Justice
was, however, established after the Annexation, and has been continued
by the Volksraad, but an agitation is being got up against it, and it
will possibly be abolished in favour of the old system.
In such a community as that of the Transvaal Boers, the question of
public defence was evidently of the first importance. This is provided
for under what is known as the Commando system. The President, with the
concurrence of the Executive Council, has the right of declaring war,
and of calling up a Commando, in which the burghers are placed under
the field cornets and commandants. These last are chosen by the field
cornets for each district, and a Commandant-general is chosen by the
whole laager or force, but the President is the Commander-in-Chief of
the army. All the inhabitants of the state between sixteen and sixty,
with a few exceptions, are liable for service. Young men under
eighteen, and men over fifty, are only called out under circumstances
of emergency. Members of the Volksraad, officials, clergymen, and
school-teachers are exempt from personal service, unless martial law
is proclaimed, but must contribute an amount not exceeding 15 pounds
towards the expense of the war. All legal proceedings in civil cases are
suspended against persons on commando, no summonses can be made out,
and as soon as martial law is proclaimed no legal execution can be
prosecuted, the pounds are closed, and transfer dues payments are
suspended, until after thirty days from the recall of the proclamation
of martial law. Owners of land residing beyond the borders of the
Republic are also liable, in addition to the ordinary war tax, to
place a fit and proper substitute at the disposal of the Government, or
otherwise to pay a fine of 15 pounds. The first levy of the burghers
is, of men from eighteen to thirty-four years of age; the second,
thirty-four to fifty; and the third, from sixteen to eighteen, and
from fifty to sixty years. Every man is bound to provide himself with
clothing, a gun, and ammunition, and there must be enough waggons and
oxen found between them to suffice for their joint use. Of the booty
taken, one quarter goes to Government and the rest to the burghers. The
most disagreeable part of the commandeering system is, however, yet to
come; personal service is not all that the resident in the Transvaal
Republic has to endure. The right is vested in field cornets to
commandeer articles as well as individuals, and to call upon inhabitants
to furnish requisites for the commando. As may be imagined, it goes very
hard on these occasions with the property of any individual whom the
field cornet may not happen to like.
Each ward is expected to turn out its contingent ready and equipped
for war, and this can only be done by seizing goods right and left. One
unfortunate will have to find a waggon, another to deliver his favourite
span of trek oxen, another his riding-horse, or some slaughter cattle,
and so on. Even when the officer making the levy is desirous of doing
his duty as fairly as he can, it is obvious that very great hardships
must be inflicted under such a system. Requisitions are made more with
regard to what is wanted, than with a view to an equitable distribution
of demands; and like the Jews in the time of the Crusades, he who
has got most must pay most, or take the consequences, which may be
unpleasant. Articles which are not perishable, such as waggons, are
supposed to be returned, but if they come back at all they are generally
worthless.
In case of war, the native tribes living within the borders of the State
are also expected to furnish contingents, and it is on them that most of
the hard work of the campaign generally falls. They are put in the front
of the battle, and have to do the hand-to-hand fighting, which, however,
if of the Zulu race, they do not object to.
The revenue of the State is so arranged that the burden of it should
fall as much as possible on the trading community and as little as
possible on the farmer. It is chiefly derived from licenses on trades,
professions, and callings, 30s. per annum quit-rent on farms, transfer
dues and stamps, auction dues, court fees, and contributions from such
native tribes as can be made to pay them. Since we have given up the
country, the Volksraad has put a very heavy tax on all imported goods,
hoping thereby to beguile the Boers into paying taxes without knowing
it, and at the same time strike a blow at the trading community, which
is English in its proclivities. The result has been to paralyse
what little trade there was left in the country, and to cause great
dissatisfaction amongst the farmers, who cannot understand why, now that
the English are gone, they should have to pay twice as much for their
sugar and coffee as they have been accustomed to do.
I will conclude this chapter with a few words about the natives, who
swarm in and around the Transvaal. They can be roughly divided into two
great races, the Amazulu and their offshoots, and the Macatee or Basutu
tribes. All those of Zulu blood, including the Swazies, Mapock’s Kafirs,
the Matabele, the Knobnodes, and others are very warlike in disposition,
and men of fine physique. The Basutus (who must not be confounded with
the Cape Basutus), however, differ from these tribes in every respect,
including their language, which is called Sisutu, the only mutual
feeling between the two races being their common detestation of the
Boers. They do not love war; in fact, they are timid and cowardly by
nature, and only fight when they are obliged to. Unlike the Zulus, they
are much addicted to the arts of peace, show considerable capacities
for civilisation, and are even willing to become Christians. There would
have been a far better field for the Missionary in the Transvaal than in
Zululand and Natal. Indeed, the most successful mission station I have
seen in Africa is near Middelburg, under the control of Mr. Merensky.
In person the Basutus are thin and weakly when compared to the stalwart
Zulu, and it is their consciousness of inferiority both to the white
men, and their black brethren, that, together with their natural
timidity, makes them submit as easily as they do to the yoke of the
Boer.