Seven years in South Africa, volume 2 (of 2)

by Emil Holub

There were two rain-channels that had to be crossed before arriving at the bridge; these were more than three feet deep, and I was told that after a very few hours’ rain they were filled with the water that rushed down from the slopes of the hills, amid a cluster of which the town is situated. After fourteen months’ drought, when I had been in my retreat about six weeks, there came a succession of wet days; the consequence was that both channels were quickly filled with muddy water, in one stream nearly red, in the other nearly yellow. One morning at this time I was summoned to the town, but patients in such numbers had come to consult me at my waggon that I could not set out until the afternoon. The Fish River roared at my side, but I kept on my way, and crossed the first of the little affluents in safety; but on arriving at the second I found a group of nearly thirty people brought to a standstill on its bank. They were for the most part laundresses, who had gone out in the morning as usual to the sulphurous springs, a mile or two further up the river, but on their return had found their progress arrested by the sudden rising of the flood. I was greatly tempted to turn my horse’s head round, and if I could have believed that the case was of trifling importance, I should unhesitatingly have gone back; but the account of the symptoms that the messenger had brought inclined me to suspect that the case was serious, and I felt that I ought to persevere if possible. The torrent seethed in front of me; the red turbid stream was certainly thirty feet wide, and its depth had increased to quite four feet. Not far below was a hollow, some ten feet in depth, and into this the waters plunged in an angry cataract. I relied, however, with all confidence upon my horse, and urged him into the stream. Very few steps had he taken before I felt him tremble, but at a word of encouragement from me he went forwards again. In order to avoid the cataract, I thought it best to guide him a little to the right, but unfortunately the stream proved to be violent beyond all expectation. Mosco stumbled, but happily his head and mine remained above water; by a vigorous effort he recovered himself, and after a fatiguing struggle was nearing the opposite side, when again he missed his footing, and came down upon his knees. I momentarily expected to be rolled into the torrent, but had the presence of mind to give my horse his head; one dash, and he fixed his forefeet into the soft clay of the shore; an instant’s pause, and with a desperate bound he carried me safe to terra firma.

It was during the time of my residence in Cradock that the Zulu war, the most important event that has occurred in South Africa for the last quarter of a century, was going on. For the advancement of civilization that war was a necessity, and it must not be supposed either that it was a mere arbitrary proceeding on the part of Sir Bartle Frere, or that the British Government had no valid reason for taking up arms. It was, I am convinced, the wisest step that Sir Bartle Frere, as a statesman, could have taken; he foresaw the danger that threatened the colony from Zululand; he was perfectly aware of Cetewayo’s warlike preparations; and he knew, moreover, that all the force that had been collected was eager for a conflict with the whites. The colonists in Natal, and the residents in the south-east of the Transvaal, had been perpetually complaining of the encroachments which the Zulus made, whilst for the last ten years numbers of the Zulus themselves had been taking refuge in both these districts from the cruelty and oppression of the king and the indunas.

If the English Government had not taken the initiative, the whole horde of Zulus, bloodthirsty as hounds, would have overrun Natal, and probably 20,000 lives or more would have been sacrificed. Cetewayo had long made up his mind what he would do; his scheme might cost him many lives, but hundreds and thousands of lives were of little account to him considering the numerical strength of his tribe as compared with all others; it sufficed for him to rely on the courage and daring of his warriors, and thus he was encouraged to indulge his one great vision of becoming master of Natal. Had his venture proved successful, the first terrible result of the victory achieved by him would have been a general rising of the adjacent tribes in revolt against the white men.

I know indeed that there are many men both in South Africa and in England who regard the Zulu war as a great act of injustice, but I can only express my conviction that the opinion they form is founded upon a complete misunderstanding of the character of the natives as a whole, and of the Zulus in particular; I can only believe of them that they have never been in contact with natives, so as to become aware of the bare-faced line of action they pursue; and generally I should presume of them that in the view they take they are blinded by the prejudice that every negro is a poor oppressed creature, ever ill-used, abused, and trampled on.

In England, after my return, I had several opportunities of talking over this matter with various influential people, and found that whenever I expressed my belief that there was a happy future in store for the natives of South Africa, my anticipations were uniformly regarded with extreme surprise. The general impression seemed to be that the black man was becoming extinct as the result of oppression, and that the outbreak of the Zulu war was only an additional proof of this. That there has hitherto been a failure in the relations between white men and coloured in so many places is, I conceive, attributable to the entire misapprehension of the character and position of the native; either he has been treated as a being scarcely endued with human qualities at all, or, by the opposite extreme, he has been encouraged to regard himself as in every respect the equal of his master. To give a negro the rights of civilization, and to entitle him to enjoy its privileges before training him to use them aright, is only like treating a child as though he were a full-grown man, and the result has been to make him presume upon his alleged equality to take up arms against his superiors. Other things that have been very fatal to the establishment of a proper relationship are the introduction of alcoholic liquors, the spread of contagious diseases, and the want of integrity on the part of those commissioned by the government to open traffic with the natives, and who have only too often consulted their own selfish interests without the least regard to the welfare of those with whom they were sent to deal. On this latter point, however, as far as South Africa is concerned, there is not much to be said; the veracity of the reports made by the commissioners can be easily put to the test, and the slightest abuse of power is quickly visited by chastisement. In the previous chapter I have attempted to show that the authorities are now in a fair way of understanding the best mode of dealing with the natives. With respect to the sale of spirits, we find, incredible as we might have imagined it, that it has been prohibited by several native princes, and that some of the colonial governments have, if not forbidden, at least limited the traffic with the independent tribes.

With so warlike a people as the Zulus, a settlement of the question of their relations with the colonists could not possibly be arrived at without an appeal to arms; and it has to be remembered that it was a question as important to South Africa as “the Eastern Question” to many of the European powers. My long residence amongst many of the tribes, and especially my peculiar sphere of work, gave me repeated opportunities of seeing them in different aspects, and of considering their relations not only with each other, but with the English and Dutch colonists, and it was mainly on this account that I ventured to publish my pamphlet and other articles.

I am quite aware that this is hardly the place to enter into any full details concerning the Zulu war, of which the general history is universally known, but I cannot forbear making one or two observations.

The disaster that befell the British force at the commencement of the campaign was, I think, to be attributed first, to the mistake of supposing that the Zulu method of attack would be the same as that of the Kaffirs; secondly, to the circumstance that the numbers of the Zulu warriors had been so much underrated that an insufficient English force was brought into the field against them; not that Sir Bartle Frere was in any way responsible for this, as he had already asked for reinforcements; and thirdly, that there had not been diligence enough exercised in reconnoitring the country. But if the defeat brought its indignity, it was soon obliterated by the victory that ensued, when general, officers, and men, regained their laurels in contending with the most martial of African people upon the most unfavourable of soils. It was the victory of Ulundi, not any achievements of Sir Garnet Wolseley, that was the crowning-point of the campaign, and I cannot but consider that it was premature on the part of the English Government to supersede Sir Bartle Frere, and to recall Lord Chelmsford, before the war was actually at an end. The consequence has been that the treaty made with the Zulus has not been of a character to ensure a permanent peace with the native element in South Africa.

The truth of my convictions seems to me to be borne out by the recent rising of the Basutos against the Cape Government with respect to disarmament. Had peace been concluded with the Zulus in strict accordance with the general feeling that rules in the colonies, the Basutos would never have ventured upon rebellion; but the leniency of the policy pursued by the Government towards the Zulu chiefs was regarded by the other native tribes not in any way as a generous forbearance, but as an indication of weakness.

The object of disarmament, which undoubtedly in some instances has answered very well, is twofold; its first design is to bring about peace in South Africa; its second to secure a permanent satisfactory solution of the entire native question. By purchasing fire-arms of the people and refusing to sell them any, it is thought that tribes warlike by hereditary character, and tribes that have been rendered warlike by the acquisition of guns, may be converted into peaceful husbandmen and cattle-breeders; the process should be gradual, but the main object being once attained, it might then be safe for the Government to issue gun-licences to any individuals who should require them for hunting purposes.