History of the Zulu war and its origin

by Frances Ellen Colenso

A son and daughter of the Bishop of Natal, on their way to England, called at Cape Town on board a steamer at the time of the king’s arrival. They asked permission to see him, feeling that if anything could be a solace to the captive it would be an interview with members of a family which he knew had kindly feelings towards him.[178] This request was refused by Sir Bertie Frere, who regretted that he could not “at present give anyone permission to visit Cetewayo,” and said that “all intercourse with him must be regulated by the orders of the General Commanding H. M. Forces in the Field, to whom all applications to communicate with the prisoner should be referred.” After this communication, it was rather surprising to find that several of the passengers on board the mail-steamer, leaving the Cape the next day, had not only seen the king, but had found no difficulty in so doing.[179]

CONCLUSION.

The fall of Ulundi was looked upon by some as the finishing touch to the Zulu power and the end of the war, while others considered peace ensured only and completely by the capture of the king. Much, however, remained to be done before Natal could be thought of as at peace with her neighbours and herself, and what has been commonly called the “Settlement of Zululand,” was a task which required the gravest consideration and the most careful handling.

Sir Garnet Wolseley’s first act in this direction was to call together as many of the principal Zulu chiefs and officials as could be found, and to address them upon the situation. This meeting took place at Ulundi on the 1st of September, the day after the captive king’s departure for Port Durnford. About 200 Zulus, including two of Cetshwayo’s brothers, and his prime minister Mnyamana, had responded to the summons; and seating themselves in rows four deep, with the principal chiefs in front, a few paces from the flagstaff at Sir G. Wolseley’s tent, waited in perfect silence. When Sir Garnet, with his staff, at last appeared, he addressed the assembled chiefs through Mr. John Shepstone, who accompanied him as interpreter. He informed them that it was six years that very day since Cetshwayo was crowned king of the Zulus, and that he was now carried away never to return. This, he told them, was in consequence of his having broken his coronation promises, and having failed to make and keep such laws amongst his people as the Queen of England could approve, therefore his kingdom was taken from him; and would now be divided amongst a number of chiefs, who would be expected to rule with justice. In future no life was to be taken without trial, and trivial offences were to be punished by fines; no standing army would be allowed, nor the possession of guns and ammunition by any Zulu; nor would any stores be permitted to be landed on the Zulu coast, in case, under the guise of merchandise, arms should be brought into the country. The young men would be allowed to marry when and whom they pleased, provided they had sufficient for the support of a wife, and could obtain the consent of the girl’s parents, and “smelling out” for witchcraft was to be put down. Nevertheless, the Queen had no wish to force our laws and customs upon them. By their own rules of war and conquest, Zululand now belonged to her; but she had already enough land in Africa, and had therefore no intention of depriving the Zulus of theirs. Finally, the missionaries were not to be forced upon them, and the Zulus were even forbidden to encourage their settling amongst them.

To secure the fulfilment of all these commands, Sir G. Wolseley told the chiefs that he intended to leave an English officer as resident, to be the eyes and ears of England, to watch over the people, and to see the laws observed and that the chiefs ruled with justice and equity. With what machinery the officer in question was to perform so wide a task does not appear. Whether his position is to be a real one, requiring several British regiments to support it, or whether it is to be a mere farce, a fine-sounding pretence, remains yet to be proved.

At the conclusion of the General’s discourse he produced a document, the purport of which, he said, he had now told them, and which was to be signed by all the chiefs whom he had chosen as rulers of the land, to each of whom a duplicate copy would be given, while he retained a similar one himself.

The first to sign his name was Mr. John Dunn, whose chieftainship was by far the largest; and after him the Zulu chiefs touched the pen while Mr. Shepstone made their crosses for them, in place of the signature which they could not form.

For once in the history of Natal, all classes, from whatever widely differing motives, were united in condemning the arrangement.

“The so-called settlement of Zululand,” says The Cape Times, on September 16th, “is regarded with anything but satisfaction in Natal, if we may accept the press of that colony as representative of public opinion. Sir Garnet Wolseley was probably acting under instructions in making peace on a barbarian basis; such a peace, however, has no guarantee for continuance, but on the contrary an inherent weakness, forbidding any hope of permanence. A savage nation is now divided into a number of savage nations, each leaning to the other with all the force of common blood and common traditions, while to check the impulses of that force there is absolutely nothing beyond the influence of two or three British residents, unsupported by any armed retinue, and clothed with no more than a shadow of authority. And as the embodiment of British civilisation, and as Her Majesty the Queen’s own representative in Zululand, is placed Mr. John Dunn.... But whatever John Dunn’s merits may be, his appointment as Chief Resident in Zululand is a shock to civilisation. His ways are Zulu ways; his associations, Zulu associations; his very habits of thought imbued with the Zulu character. A white man who for twenty years or more has lived the Zulu life, wedded Zulu wives, and chosen their society in preference to that of such women as a white man should love and honour, is not the man to represent the Queen of England in a nation of savages. The settlement of Zululand means simply the appointment of a dozen Cetywayos, with a white man to look after them, who is a Cetywayo in all but colour. And now Sir Garnet Wolseley skips off in his light and airy fashion to the Transvaal, flattering himself that he has made things pleasant in Zululand. It is a miserable delusion....”