[*] The following is the text of the message:—
“Did I ever tell Mr. Shepstone I would not kill? Did he tell
the white people that I made such an arrangement? Because if
he did he has deceived them. I do kill; but do not consider
that I have done anything yet in the way of killing. Why do
the white people start at nothing? I have not yet begun; I
have yet to kill; it is the custom of our nation, and I
shall not depart from it. Why does the Governor of Natal
speak to me about my laws? Do I go to Natal and dictate to
him about his laws? I shall not agree to any laws or rules
from Natal, and by doing so throw the large kraal which I
govern into the water. My people will not listen unless they
are killed; and while wishing to be friends with the
English, I do not agree to give my people over to be
governed by laws sent to me by them. Have I not asked the
English to allow me to wash my spears since the death of my
father ‘Umpandi,’ and they have kept playing with me all
this time, treating me like a child? Go back and tell the
English that I shall now act on my own account, and if they
wish me to agree to their laws, I shall leave and become a
wanderer; but before I go it will be seen, as I shall not go
without having acted. Go back and tell the white men this,
and let them hear it well. The Governor of Natal and I are
equal; he is Governor of Natal, and I am Governor here.”
To admit that the Zulu king has the right to kill as many of his subjects as he chooses, so long as they will tolerate being killed, is one thing, but it is certainly surprising to find educated Europeans adopting a line of defence of these proceedings on his behalf that amounts to a virtual expression of approval, or at least of easy toleration. Has philanthropy a deadening effect on the moral sense, that the people who constitute themselves champions for the unfortunate Zulu king and the oppressed Boers cannot get on to their hobbies without becoming blind to the difference between right and wrong? Really an examination of the utterances of these champions of oppressed innocence would almost lead one to that conclusion. On the one hand they suppress and explain away facts, and on the other supply their want of argument by reckless accusations and vicious attacks on the probity of such of their fellow-Englishmen, especially if in office, as have had the misfortune to pursue a course of action or to express opinions not pleasing to them or their proteges. For instance, an innocent and unenlightened reader of the very interesting work from which I have just quoted probably lays it down with the conviction that both Sir Bartle Frere and Sir Theophilus Shepstone are very wicked men and full of bad motives, and will wonder how a civilised Government could employ such monsters of bloodthirsty duplicity. As he proceeds he will also find that there is not much to be said for the characters of either Sir Garnet Wolseley or Lord Chelmsford; whilst as regards such small fry as Mr. John Shepstone, the present Secretary of Native Affairs in Natal, after passing through Miss Colenso’s mill their reputations come out literally in rags and tatters. He will be shocked to find that not only did one and all of these gentlemen make gross errors of judgment, but, trusted and distinguished servants of their country as they are, they were one and all actuated by dark personal motives that will not bear examination.
Heaven help the members of the Shepstone family when they fall into the hands of the gentler but more enthusiastic sex, for Miss Colenso is not their only foe. In a recent publication called a “Defence of Zululand and its Kings,” Lady Florence Dixie gibbets Mr. Henrique Shepstone, and points him out to be execrated by a Cetywayo-worshipping public, because the ex-king is to be sent to England in his charge; when, according to Lady Dixie, he will certainly be scoundrel enough to misinterpret all that Cetywayo says for his own ends, and will thereby inflict a “cruel wrong” upon him, and render his visit to England “perfectly meaningless.” Perhaps it has never occurred to Lady Dixie that this is a very serious charge to bring against an honourable man, whose reputation is probably as dear to him as the advancement of Cetywayo’s cause is to her. It is all very well to be enthusiastic, but ladies should remember that there are other people in the world to be considered beside Cetywayo.
As regards the question of Cetywayo’s bloodthirstiness, which is so strenuously denied by his apologists, I cannot say that a careful study of the blue books bearing on the subject brings me to the same conclusion. It is true that there is not much information on the point, for the obvious reason that the history of slaughters in Zululand in the vast majority of cases only reached Natal in the form of rumours, which nobody thought it worth while to report. There were no newspaper correspondents in Zululand. There is not, however, any doubt that Cetywayo was in the habit of killing large numbers of people; indeed it was a matter of the commonest notoriety; nor, as will be seen from the message I have transcribed, did he himself deny it, when, being angry, he spoke the truth. At the same time that this message was sent, we find Mr. Osborn, then resident magistrate at Newcastle in Natal, who is certainly not given to exaggeration, writing to the Secretary for Native Affairs thus:—“From all I have been able to learn, Cetywayo’s conduct has been, and continues to be, disgraceful. He is putting people to death in a shameful manner, especially girls. The dead bodies are placed by his order in the principal paths, especially where the paths intersect each other (cross roads). A few of the parents of the young people so killed buried the bodies, and thus brought Cetywayo’s wrath on themselves, resulting not only on their own death, but destruction of the whole family. . . . It is really terrible that such horrible savagery could take place on our own borders. . . . Uhamu reproved Cetywayo the other day, reminded him of his promises to Mr. Shepstone, and begged him to spare the people. This advice, as could be expected, was not relished.”
Again, Mr. Fynney, in his report of his visit to Zululand in 1877, states that though the king and his “indunas” (councillors) denied that men were killed without trial, the people told a very different tale. Thus he says, “In every instance, where I had so far gained the confidence of the Zulus as to cause them to speak freely, was I assured of the truthfulness of the statement that the king, Cetywayo, caused his people to be put to death in great numbers; and when I remarked that of course he did so after a fair and proper trial, in some cases my remark was greeted with a suppressed laugh or a smile. Some remarked, ‘Yes, a trial of bullets;’ others, ‘Yes, we get a trial, but that means surrounding the kraal at daybreak and shooting us down like cattle.’ One asked me what the Government in Natal intended doing, or what was thought in Natal about the killing, saying, ‘It was not in the night that Sompseu spoke, but in the sunshine; the king was not alone, but his people were around him, and the ears of all Zululand heard these words, and the hearts of all Zulus were joyful, and in gladness they lifted up their hands saying: The mouth of our white father has spoken good words; he has cautioned his child in the presence of his people, and a good sun has risen this day over Zululand! How is it now? Has the king listened? Does he hold fast those words? No! not one. The promises he made are all broken. What does Sompseu say to this? You should dine at my kraal yonder for a few days, and see the izizi (cattle and other property of people who have been killed) pass, and you would then see with your own eyes how a case is tried.’” Farther on Mr. Fynney says, “When a charge is made against a Zulu, the question is generally asked, ‘Has he any cattle?’ and if answered in the affirmative, there is little chance of escape. Instances of killing occurred while I was in Zululand, and to my knowledge no trial was allowed. An armed party was despatched on the morning I left Ondine, and, as I was informed, to kill.”
There is no reason to suppose that Mr. Fynney was in any way prejudiced in making these remarks; on the contrary, he was simply carrying out an official mission, and reporting for the general information of the Governments of Natal and the Transvaal. It is, however, noticeable that neither these nor similar passages are ever alluded to by Cetywayo’s advocates, whose object seems to be rather to suppress the truth than to put it fairly before the public, if by such suppression they think they can advance the cause of the ex-king.
The whole matter of Cetywayo’s private policy, however, appears to me to be very much beside the question. Whether or no he slaughtered his oppressed subjects in bygone years, which there is no doubt he did, is not our affair, since we were not then, as we are now, responsible for the good government of Zululand; and seeing the amount of slaughter that goes on under our protectorate, it ill becomes us to rake up these things against Cetywayo. What we have to consider is his foreign policy, not the domestic details of his government.[*]
[*] A gentleman, who has recently returned from travelling
in Zululand, relates the following story as nearly as
possible in the words in which it was told to him by a well-
known hunter in Zululand, Piet Hogg by name, now residing
near Dundee on the Zulu border. The story is a curious one
as illustrative of Zulu character, and scarcely represents
Cetywayo in as amiable a light as one might wish. Piet Hogg
and my informant were one day talking about the king when
the former said, “I was hunting and trading in Zululand, and
was at a military kraal occupied by Cetywayo, where I saw a
Basuto who had been engaged by the king to instruct his
people in building houses, that were to be square instead
of circular (as are all Zulu buildings), for which his pay
was to be thirty head of cattle. The Basuto came to Cetywayo
in my presence, and said that the square buildings were
made; he now wished to have his thirty head of cattle and to
depart. Cetywayo having obtained what he required, began to
think the man overpaid, so said, ‘I have observed that you
like —— (a Zulu woman belonging to the kraal); suppose you
take her instead of the thirty head of cattle.’ Now this was
a very bad bargain for the Basuto, as the woman was not
worth more, in Zulu estimation, than ten head of cattle; but
the Basuto, knowing with whom he had to deal, thought it
might be better to comply with the suggestion rather than
insist upon his rights, and asked to be allowed till the
next morning to consider the proposal. After he had been
dismissed on this understanding, Cetywayo sent for the
woman, and accused her of misconduct with the Basuto, the
punishment of which, if proved, would be death. She denied
this vehemently, with protestations and tears. He insisted,
but, looking up at a tree almost denuded of leaves which
grew close by, said, significantly, ‘Take care that not a
leaf remains on that tree by the morning.’ The woman
understood the metaphor, and in an hour or two, aided by
other strapping Zulu females, attacked the unfortunate
Basuto and killed him with clubs. But Cetywayo having thus,
like the monkey in the fable, employed a cat’s paw to do his
dirty work, began to think the Basuto’s untimely death might
have an ugly appearance in my eyes, so gave orders in my
presence that, as a punishment, six of the women who had
killed the Basuto should also be put to death. This was too
much for me, knowing as I did, all that had passed. I
reproached Cetywayo for his cruelty, and declared I would
leave Zululand without trading there, and without making him
the present he expected. I also said I should take care the
great English ‘Inkose’ (the Governor of Natal) should hear
of his conduct and the reason of my return. Cetywayo was
then on friendly terms with the English, and being impressed
by my threats, he reconsidered his orders, and spared the
lives of the women.”
I do not propose to follow out all the details of the boundary dispute between Cetywayo and the Transvaal, or to comment on the different opinions held on the point by the various authorities, English and Zulu. The question has been, for the moment, settled by the Transvaal Convention, and is besides a most uninteresting one to the general reader.
Nor shall I enter into a discussion concerning the outrages on which Sir Bartle Frere based his ultimatum previous to the Zulu war. They were after all insignificant, although sufficient to serve as a casus belli to a statesman determined to fight. The Zulu war was, in the opinion of Sir B. Frere, necessary in self-defence, which is the first principle of existence. If it admits of justification, it is on the ground that the Zulu army was a menace to the white population of South Africa, and that it was therefore necessary to destroy it, lest at some future time it should destroy the whites. It is ridiculous to say that the capture of two Zulu women in Natal and their subsequent murder, or the expulsion on political grounds of a few missionaries, justified us in breaking up a kingdom and slaughtering ten thousand men. Sir Bartle Frere declared war upon the Zulus because he was afraid, and had good reason to be afraid, that if he did not, Cetywayo would before long sweep either the Transvaal or Natal; whilst, on the other hand, the Zulus fought us because our policy was too philanthropic to allow them to fight anybody else. This statement may appear strange, but a little examination into Zulu character and circumstances will, I think, show it to be correct.