CHAPTER I.

FIRST CAUSES.

England’s collisions with the savage races bordering upon her colonies have in all probability usually been brought about by the exigencies of the moment, by border-troubles, and acts of violence and insolence on the part of the savages, and from the absolute necessity of protecting a small and trembling white population from their assaults.

No such causes as these have led up to the war of 1879. For more than twenty years the Zulus and the colonists of Natal have lived side by side in perfect peace and quietness. The tranquillity of our border had been a matter of pride as compared to the disturbed and uncertain boundaries between Zululand and the Transvaal. The mere fact of the utterly unprotected condition of the frontier farmers on _our_ border, and the entire absence of anything like precaution, evinced by the common practice of building houses of the most combustible description, is a proof that the colonists felt no real alarm concerning the Zulus until the idea was suggested to them by those in authority over them.[1] The only interruption to this tranquil condition of the public mind about the Zulus was in the year 1861, when a scare took place in the colony, for which, as it afterwards proved, there were no grounds whatsoever. A general but unfounded belief was rife that Cetshwayo,[2] king, or rather at that time prince, ruling Zululand, was about to invade Natal, in order to obtain possession of his young brother Umkungo, a claimant of the Zulu crown, and who had escaped over the border at the time of the great civil war of which we shall presently treat. This young prince had been placed—by the Secretary for Native Affairs, Mr. Shepstone—at Bishopstowe,[3] for his education in the Native Boys’ School there; and it was not until he had been there for years that the fancy arose, suggested and fostered by the border farmers and traders in Zululand, that Cetshwayo intended to take him by force from amongst us, or at all events to make the attempt.

Under the influence of this belief the troops then stationed in Natal were ordered to the frontier, the colonial volunteers were called out, the defence of the principal towns became a matter for consideration; while outlying farmers, and residents in the country, hastened to remove their families to places of comparative safety.

Bishopstowe was supposed to be the special object of the expected attack; but the Bishop himself, having occasional opportunities of learning the state of things in Zululand, through his missionary there, could never be brought thoroughly to believe in the gravity of the danger. It is true that, as a matter of precaution, and in deference to the strongly-expressed opinion of the Lieut.-Governor of the Colony and of Mr. Shepstone, he sent away the threatened boy to some of his own people, in a more remote and safer part of the colony. But he was extremely reluctant to take the further step, strongly urged upon him, of removing his family and people to the adjacent city of Pietermaritzburg, and only consented to do so under protest. During the night following his consent, but before the project had been carried out, he had reason for a few hours to suppose that he had been mistaken in his own judgment. The family at Bishopstowe was knocked up at one o’clock in the morning by a messenger from a passing Dutch farmer, who, on his way into town with his own family, had sent word to the Bishop that Cetshwayo’s army had entered the colony, was already between him and Table Mountain—that is to say within a distance of nine miles—and was burning, killing, and destroying all upon the way to Bishopstowe. There seemed to be no doubt of the fact; so, hastily collecting their native villagers,[4] the Colensos left their homes and started for the town, which they reached, most of them on foot, about daybreak. The consequence of their being accompanied and followed by a considerable party of natives (of both sexes and all ages!) was that the townspeople immediately supposed that the “Zulus had come;” and some of them actually left their houses, and took refuge in the various places of safety—such as the fort, the principal churches, and so on—previously decided upon by the authorities in case of necessity. In common South African terms they “went into laager.”

As the day passed, and still no further tidings arrived of the approach of the Zulus or the destruction of Bishopstowe, the Bishop began to have strong suspicions that, after all, he had been right in his original opinion, and that “the killing, burning, and destroying” had been conjured up by some excited imagination. This opinion was confirmed, if not completely established, in the course of the day, by the reception of a letter from the missionary in Zululand before mentioned, in which he inquired, on the Zulu king’s behalf, what fault the latter had committed towards the English, that they should be preparing to invade his country. The missionary added that all was perfectly quiet in Zululand, until the border tribes, seeing the British troops approaching, fled inland in alarm, killing their cattle to prevent their falling into the hands of the invaders, and burying their other possessions where they could not carry them away. In point of fact the “scare” had no foundation whatsoever, and the Zulus were quite as much alarmed by the actual approach of the British troops as the Natalians had been by the imaginary Zulu army. The worst immediate consequence of the mistake was the want, almost amounting to famine, produced amongst the border Zulus by the loss of their cattle. A later and more serious result has been that general impression, which has long obtained credence at home in England, that the colonists of Natal have not only been in fear of their lives on account of the Zulus for many years, but have also had good and sufficient reason for their alarm. But for this fixed, though groundless idea, England would hardly have been in such a hurry to send out additional troops for the protection of the colony as she was in the summer of 1878; to her own great loss and to the very considerable injury of the colony itself, not to speak of its unhappy neighbours and heretofore friends the Zulus.

It is certainly true that during the year 1878 the inhabitants of Natal did honestly feel great fear of the Zulus, and of a possible invasion of the colony by them, the alarm in many cases amounting to absolute panic. But this feeling was produced by no warlike menaces from our neighbours, no sinister appearances on our borders. The panic—or “scare,” as it would popularly be called in Natal—was forced upon the people by the conduct and language of their rulers, by the preparations made for war, troops being sent for from England “for defensive purposes” (as was so repeatedly asserted by both Sir Bartle Frere and Lord Chelmsford, then Lieut.-General the Hon. F. A. Thesiger), and by the perpetual agitation of the local newspaper editors.

It is true indeed that a certain section of the colonists eagerly desired war. To some the presence of the troops was a source of actual fortune, to others the freedom and independence of so large a body of black people, whom they could neither tax nor force to work for them, was, and had long been, odious; the revenue to be derived from a hut-tax levied upon the Zulus, and the cheap labour to be obtained when their power and independence should be broken, formed one of the chief subjects for speculation when the war was first suggested. To others, again, the prospect of war was simply a source of pleasurable excitement, a hunt on a large scale, martial glory to be won, with just spice enough of danger to give zest to the affair; as had been the case in the war just concluded in Kaffraria. Naturally this feeling was commonest amongst the volunteers and their friends. Some of them looked upon the matter in a light which would meet with utter condemnation in any civilised society; but many others, especially the young lads who filled up the ranks of the volunteer corps, were simply dazzled by visions of military distinction, excited by the popular phrases in perpetual use about “fighting for their country, and doing their duty as soldiers,” to the extent of losing sight altogether of the question as to whether or no their country really required any defence at all.

Natal cannot honestly claim to be guiltless in bringing about the war with the Zulus, and will hardly deny that in 1878 the prospect was a most popular one amongst her sons. Perhaps Sir Bartle Frere could not so easily have produced a war out of the materials which he had at hand but for the assistance given him by the popular cry in the colony, and the general fear of the Zulus, which called forth England’s ready sympathy and assistance. But it must be remembered that the panic was not a genuine one, nor even one like that of 1861, produced by the folly of the people themselves. It was distinctly imposed upon them by those in authority, whose policy was to bring about a collision with the Zulus, and who then made use of the very fears which they had themselves aroused for the furtherance of their own purpose.

The subjugation of the Zulus and the annexation of their country, formed part of a policy which has occupied the minds of certain British statesmen for many years. The ambition of creating a South African Empire, to be another jewel in Victoria’s crown, which, if no rival, should at least be a worthy pendant to the great Indian Empire, was a dazzling one, and towards that object all Government action in South Africa has apparently tended since the year 1873. When the idea was first conceived those only know who formed it, but it took practical and visible form in 1873. In that year by crowning the Zulu king we assumed a right to interfere in the internal management of the country, thereby establishing a possible future cause of offence, which, as the Zulus obstinately refused to put themselves in the wrong by any sort of interference with us, was necessary in order to bring about a state of things which should eventually give us a sufficient excuse for taking possession of the country altogether.

The origin of this performance was as follows. In the year 1856 a great revolution took place in Zululand, and a civil war broke out between two claimants to the heirship of the throne (then filled by Umpande), namely, the present king, Cetshwayo, and his brother Umbulazi. Cetshwayo was quite young at the time, and appears to have been put forward by some ambitious warriors, who intended to rule in his name, and did not expect the remarkable power and talent which he afterwards developed.

Umbulazi’s party was beaten, he himself being killed in battle, great carnage ensuing, and many fugitives escaping into Natal.

Amidst all the bloodshed and horror which naturally attends such a warfare as this between savages, there stands out the singular, perhaps unprecedented, fact that Cetshwayo, although victorious to the extent of carrying the nation with him, not only never made any attempt upon the old king, his father’s, life, but did not even depose him or seize his throne. The old man lived and—nominally, at all events—reigned for many years, though, owing to his age and obesity, which was so great as to prevent his walking, he seems to have been willing enough to leave the real authority in the hands of his son, while retaining the semblance of it himself. He was treated with all due respect by Cetshwayo and his followers until he died a natural death in the year 1872, when Cetshwayo ascended the throne which had long been virtually his own, and was proclaimed king of Zululand. This was looked upon as a fitting time for a little display of authority by ourselves, hence the friendly expedition to Zululand of 1873, when we gave Cetshwayo to understand that, however it might appear to him, he held his power from us, and was no true king till we made him such. It was also rightly thought to be an opportunity for suggesting to the Zulu king such reforms in the government of his country as would naturally commend themselves to English ideas. We considered, and with some reason, that capital punishment was an over-frequent occurrence in Zululand, and that, on the other hand, judicial trials before sentence should be the universal rule. It was also desirable, if possible, to decrease the belief in witchcraft, by which so much power was left in the hands of the witch-doctors or priests;[5] and finally it was thought necessary to provide for the safety of the missionaries resident in the land.[6] How far this was a desirable step depends entirely on whether the men themselves were earnest, self-sacrificing, peace-loving teachers of the gospel of Christ, or mere traders for their own benefit, under the cloak of a divine mission, ready to hail a bloody war. “Only the utter destruction of the Zulus can secure future peace in South Africa ... we have the approbation of God, our Queen, and our own conscience.” (See letter from a missionary clergyman to Sir Bartle Frere,[7] dated December 17th, 1878. (P. P. [C. 2316] p. 3.))

It was frequently asserted at the time in Natal that this coronation ceremony (1st September, 1873) was nothing better than a farce, and the way in which it was carried out seems hardly to have been understood by the king himself. The Natalians were puzzled as to what could be the meaning or intention of what seemed to them a hollow show, and were on the whole rather inclined to put it down to Mr. Shepstone’s supposed habit of “petting the natives,” and to “Exeter Hall influences,” resulting in a ridiculous fuss on their behalf.

From Mr. Shepstone’s despatch on the subject of the coronation of Cetshwayo (P. P. [C. 1137]), and from messages brought from the latter to the Government of Natal after his father’s death, there appears to have been a strong desire on the part, not only of the people, but of the king himself, that his formal succession to the throne should be unattended by bloodshed and disorder, such as had ushered in the rule of his predecessors for several generations. How greatly the character of the Zulu rule had improved in a comparatively short period may be judged by a comparison of the fact [p. 5, _ibid._] (mentioned by Mr. Shepstone), that during the reigns of Chaka and Dingana (grandfather and great-uncle to Cetshwayo), all the royal wives were put to death either before the birth of their children, or with their infants afterwards, with the behaviour of Cetshwayo, both to his father and to his father’s wives.[8] And Mr. Shepstone himself speaks of Cetshwayo on the occasion of this visit in the following manner:—“Cetywayo is a man of considerable ability, much force of character, and has a dignified manner; in all my conversations with him,” the Secretary for Native Affairs continues, “he was remarkably frank and straightforward, and he ranks in every respect far above any native chief I have ever had to do with.” Throughout the despatch, indeed, Mr. Shepstone repeatedly speaks of the king’s “frankness” and “sagacity,” in direct opposition to the charges of craft and duplicity so recklessly brought against the latter of late.

King Umpande died in October, 1872, having reigned nearly thirty-three years, and on the 26th February, 1873, messengers from Cetshwayo brought the news of his father’s death to the Governor of Natal, requesting at the same time that Mr. Shepstone might be sent to instal Cetshwayo as his successor,[9] in order that the Zulu nation should be “more one with the government of Natal,” and be “covered by the same mantle.” The message ended with the request which Cetshwayo never lost an opportunity of making, that we would protect his country from Boer aggressions.[10] “We are also commissioned,” say the messengers, “to urge, _what has already been urged so frequently_, that the government of Natal be extended so as to intervene between the Zulus and the territory of the Transvaal Republic.”

The mere fact that this proposition was frequently and earnestly pressed upon the Natal Government by the Zulus, is in itself a proof positive that the aggressions were not on their side. They desired to place what they looked upon as an impassable barrier between the two countries, and could therefore have had no wish themselves to encroach.

Further messages passed between Cetshwayo and the Natal Government upon the subject, until it was finally arranged that the coronation should be performed by Mr. Shepstone, in Zululand, and, with a party of volunteers as escort, he crossed the Tugela on the 8th August, 1873, accompanied by Major Durnford, R.E., Captain Boyes, 75th Regiment, and several other officers and gentlemen.

Mr. Shepstone’s long despatch, already quoted from, and in which he describes, with true native minuteness, the most trivial circumstances of the journey, and subsequent proceedings, gives the impression that he looked upon his mission as a service of danger to all concerned. It was, however, carried out without any break in the friendly relations between the Zulus and his party, who returned to Pietermaritzburg “without unpleasant incident” on the 19th September.

The coronation mission was carried out—how far _successfully_ entirely depends upon the results expected or desired by those in command. The king himself, while looking upon the fact of his recognition as sovereign of Zululand by the English as important, is quite keen enough to have detected certain elements of absurdity in the proceedings by which they invested him with his dignity. There was perhaps a little good-humoured scorn in his reception of the somewhat oddly-chosen presents and marks of honour offered him. Without losing that respect for and faith in the English which has always characterised his dealings with them, he felt impatiently that they were rather making a fool of him; especially when they put upon his shoulders a little scarlet mantle—formerly a lady’s opera-cloak—the curtailed dimensions of which made him ridiculous in his own eyes; and upon his head a pasteboard, cloth, and tinsel crown, whose worthlessness he was perfectly capable of comprehending. Mr. Shepstone’s despatch represents him as greatly impressed by the ceremony, etc.; but the impression on the minds of many observers was that he put up with much which both seemed and was trifling and ridiculous, for the sake of the solid benefits which he hoped he and his people would derive from a closer connection with the English.

The portion of Mr. Shepstone’s despatch, however, which it is important that we should study with attention is that which refers to the “coronation promises” (so called) of Cetshwayo, and treats of the political subjects discussed between king and kingmaker.

Sir Bartle Frere repeatedly speaks of the transaction as “a solemn act by the king, undertaken as the price of British support and recognition;” of Cetshwayo as having “openly violated his coronation promises;” of his “undoubted promises;” while Sir Garnet Wolseley, in his speech to the assembled chiefs and people of the Zulu nation, speaks of the coronation promises as though the want of attention to them had been the chief, if not the only, cause of the king’s misfortunes; and the same tone is taken in all late despatches on the subject.

And now let us turn to Mr. Shepstone’s own report, prepared at the time, and see whether we gather from it the impression that the conditions of his treaty with Cetshwayo were thought of, or intended by him, to stand as solemn and binding promises, of which the infraction, or delay in carrying out, would render the king and his people liable to punishment at our hands. After giving his reasons for objecting to “formal or written” treaties with savages,[11] Mr. Shepstone himself remarks, “Ours is an elastic arrangement.” This is a singularly candid confession, of the truth of which there can be little doubt. Whether such a term _should_ be applicable to the treaties made by an English Government is quite another question, to which we will leave the English public to find an answer. We have, however, but to quote from Mr. Shepstone’s own despatch to prove the convenient “elasticity” of his propositions, and how greatly they have been magnified of late in seeking a quarrel against the Zulu king. At p. 16 of the report, after enumerating the “arrangements and laws” proposed by him, and heartily approved by the Zulus, Mr. Shepstone remarks: “Although all this was fully, and even vehemently, assented to, it cannot be expected that the amelioration described will immediately take effect. To have got such principles admitted and declared to be what a Zulu may plead when oppressed, was but sowing the seed, which will still take many years to grow and mature.” And at p. 17 he says: “I told the king that I well knew the difficulties of his position, and that he could overcome them only by moderation and prudence and justice, but without these they would certainly overcome him.” And again (p. 18, par. 82) he explains that when he left Natal he had looked upon the “charge” which he knew that he would be expected to deliver to Cetshwayo on his installation, as something in the nature of an ordination sermon, or bishop’s charge to candidates for confirmation, likely to influence only in so far as the consciences of those addressed might respond, etc.; but that, on entering Zululand, he found that the people thought so much of this part of the duty he had undertaken that he felt himself to have “become clothed with the power of fundamental legislation,” and thought it right to take advantage of the opportunity for introducing improvements in the government of the people. “I have already described my success,” he continues, “and I attribute it to the sagacity of Cetywayo.”

But in all this there is no mention of “solemn promises,” to break which would be an insult to the majesty of England, and an excuse for war; nor is there, from beginning to end of the despatch, any token that Mr. Shepstone looked upon them in that light, or had any immediate expectation of proving the usefulness of his “elastic” arrangement.

In describing his interviews and political discussions with the Zulu king, Mr. Shepstone speaks repeatedly in high praise of the ability and behaviour of the former. He says in one place: “Cetywayo received us cordially as before.... Major Durnford and my son, with the Natal Native Indunas, sat down with me to an interview with Cetywayo and the councillors, that lasted for five hours without intermission. It was of the most interesting and earnest kind, and was conducted with great ability and frankness by Cetywayo. Theoretically, my business was with the councillors who represented the nation; but, had it not been for the straightforward manner in which Cetywayo insisted upon their going direct to the point, it would have been impossible to have got through the serious subjects we were bound to decide in the time we did.”

Of the points discussed in this way the most important was that which, a little later, led directly up to the Zulu War—namely, the aggressions of the Transvaal Boers and the disputed boundary between them and the Zulus. “The whole of the afternoon,” says Mr. Shepstone, “was occupied with this subject, about which he occasionally grew very earnest, and declared that he and every Zulu would die rather than submit to them—viz. the Boer encroachments. He reproached the Government of Natal for not having taken up the Zulu cause, and for not even having troubled themselves to examine whether their statements were true or not, while they treated them as if without foundation.”

In fact, on this, as on every other occasion, the Zulu king lost no opportunity of protesting against the encroachments of the Boers, lest his peaceable conduct towards these latter, maintained in deference to the wishes of the Natal Government, should be brought up against him later as a proof of their rights. Whatever may have been the intentions and opinions of Mr. Shepstone on the subject of the “coronation promises,” he left Cetshwayo unfettered in his own opinion, having merely received certain advice as to the government of his people from his respected friends the English, to whose wishes he should certainly give full attention, and whose counsel he would carry out as far as was, in his opinion, wise or feasible. As already stated, the principal item of the English advice related to capital punishment, which we, with some justice, considered a too frequent occurrence in Zululand, especially in cases of supposed witchcraft, this superstition being undoubtedly the bane of the country.

But in judging of the king’s acts in this respect, it should be remembered that, to rule a nation without any assistance in the form of gaols or fetters, capital punishment must needs be resorted to rather more frequently than in our own country, where, indeed, it is not so long since we hung a man for stealing a sheep, and for other acts far short of murder. And as to the superstition concerning witches, it can hardly have led to more cruelty and injustice in Zululand than in civilised European countries, where at Trèves 7000 victims were burned alive for witchcraft; 500 at Geneva in three months; 1000 in the province of Como; 400, at _once_, at Toulouse; with many other like cases on official record.[12] The practice of smelling out a witch, as it is called, is one to be put a stop to as soon as possible by gradual and gentle means, and Cetshwayo himself had arrived at that conclusion without our assistance, as shown in his conversation with the native printer Magema, whose account of a visit paid to the Zulu king appeared in “Macmillan’s Magazine” for March, 1878.

But the custom of a people—the law of a land—is not to be done away with or altered in an hour; nor could we English reasonably expect such radical changes in the administration of a country to follow our orders as immediately and naturally as we should expect a new ordinance to be received by the natives of Natal living under our own rule. Neither could we justly consider the non-fulfilment of our wishes and commands a sufficient cause for attacking Zululand, although such supposed non-fulfilment was the first, and for a long time the only _casus belli_ which could be found against the Zulu king.

The first occasion on which the solemnity of these “coronation promises” was made of importance was in 1875, when Bishop Schreuder undertook to pay Cetshwayo a visit for the purpose of presenting him with a printed and bound copy of Mr. Shepstone’s Report upon the coronation in 1873, and impressing him fully with the wishes of the English Government. Even then, judging from Bishop Schreuder’s account of his interview, neither king nor councillors were thoroughly satisfied with the result.[13] Cetshwayo, while admiring the exact report given of what took place during Mr. Shepstone’s visit, objected that he had reserved his own royal prerogatives and the right of putting criminals to death for certain serious crimes, and pointed out that Mr. Shepstone had neglected to inform the Queen of this fact.

Bishop Schreuder, from his own account, appears to have overruled all objections with a very high hand, and almost forced the “book,” with his own interpretation of it, upon the seemingly reluctant king, who, he says, “evidently felt himself out of his depth.”