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.