“Umbilini came to me for refuge from his own people, the Ama-Swazis, and I afforded him shelter; what would the world have said had I denied it to him? But, while allowing him to settle in the land as my subject, I have always been particularly careful to warn my people not to afford him any assistance or become mixed up in any quarrel between him and the Boers; and although I do not deny that he is my subject, still I will not endorse his misdeeds. When Mr. Rudolph complained to me of the trouble Umbilini was giving, I told Mr. Rudolph to kill him—I should not shield him; this the Boers tried to do, but, as usual, made a mess of it.”
In fact, on a repetition of Umbilini’s offence against the Boers, Cetshwayo refused to be longer responsible for his acts, and gave the Dutch permission to kill him. They fought him, and were beaten by him with his small band of only nineteen men. On a subsequent occasion, after a raid committed by Umbilini upon the Swazis, Cetshwayo was so incensed that he sent out a party to take and kill him; but he got notice beforehand, and escaped.
Sir Bartle Frere chooses to consider the king responsible for all Umbilini’s doings, and even Sir H. Bulwer says: “The king disowned Umbilini’s acts.... But there is nothing to show that he has in any way punished him, and, on the contrary, it is quite certain (of which ‘certainty,’ however, no proofs are forthcoming) that even if Umbilini did not act with the express orders of Cetshwayo, he did so with the knowledge that what he was doing would be agreeable to the king” (2260, p. 46).
This accusation was made in January, 1879, and refers to raids of the previous year, by which time, as the Swazis were our allies and the Boers our subjects, Umbilini’s raids in all directions except those on the Zulu side had become offences to us for which Cetshwayo was held responsible. In point of fact, it was no such simple matter to “punish” Umbilini, whose natural fortress could be held by a couple of men against anything short of the cannon which Cetshwayo did not possess. Nor was it singular that, at a time when the king had already strong suspicions that his country was about to be attacked, he should not have wasted his strength in subduing one who, in the event of war, would be most useful to himself.
That, when the evil day came and his country was invaded, Cetshwayo should have made common cause with all who would or could assist him is a mere matter of course, and it was but natural that so bold and skilful a leader as Umbilini has proved himself to be should then have been promoted and favoured by the unfortunate king.
We need scarcely say more upon this point, beyond calling our readers’ attention to the fact that the expressions “Zulu raids,” “indiscriminate massacres,” “violation by the Zulus of Transvaal territory,” “horrible cruelties” (2308, p. 62, and elsewhere), so freely scattered through the despatches written to prove the criminality of the Zulu king, all, without exception, apply to acts committed either by Umbilini and his (chiefly) Swazi followers, or by Manyonyoba, a small but independent native chief, living north of the Pongolo.[94]
The “case of Messrs. Smith and Deighton” is the only charge against the Zulu king, in connection with Natal, which we have now to consider, and it is one in which, as we shall see, a great deal was made of a very small matter.
Mr. Smith, a surveyor in the Colonial Engineer’s department, was on duty inspecting the road down to the Tugela, near Fort Buckingham. The Zulu mind being in a very excited state at the time—owing to the obvious preparation for war, of which they heard reports from Natal, troops stationed at Greytown, and war-ships seen close to the Zulu shore, as though looking for a landing-place—Mr. Smith was specially instructed to proceed upon his errand alone, and with great discretion. By way of carrying out these directions he took with him only a trader—Deighton by name—and their discretion was shown by “taking no notice” when, having arrived at the drift into Zululand, they were questioned by Zulus, who were on guard there in consequence of rumours that our troops were about to cross.[95]
Mr. Wheelwright (a Government official), to whom the matter was reported a week after it occurred, not by Mr. Smith, the principal person concerned, but by Mr. Deighton, says: “The fact that the two white men took no notice of ‘lots of Zulus shouting out’ from their own bank, ‘What do you want there?’ but ‘walked quietly along,’[96] as if they had not heard, or as if they were deaf, very naturally confirmed the suspicion that they were about no good.”
The consequence was, that when the white men reached an islet in the middle of the river (or rather one which is generally in the middle of the stream when it is full—it was low at the time), they were seized by the Zulus, and detained by them for about an hour and a half, whilst all sorts of questions were asked: “What are you doing there?” “What had the soldiers come to Greytown for?” “What did the white men want coming down there? There were two down not long ago, then other two only a few days since, and now there is other two; you must come for some reason.”