The Climate
The climate was found to be reasonably healthful. To newcomers the sudden change from heat to cold, owing to the south-east winds, was found unpleasant, and in cases of weak constitutions somewhat dangerous. But with proper care in clothing and gradual acclimatization this difficulty soon moderated, and the peculiar dryness of the climate was found to make strongly for health. Sunstrokes were rare, and the only serious evil arising from the heat was the drying up of the rivers in the interior of the country. In most parts of the continent malarial fever was then an admitted and serious danger, as it is to-day in the great lake region of Central Africa and in the valley of the Nile. In German East-Africa, in parts of the Transvaal and in the Delagoa Bay region there is still a similar state of affairs. But Cape Colony, the Orange Free State and Natal were then, and are at the present time, almost entirely free of this dreaded disease. For weak lungs it was discovered that no finer country exists in the world than the Cape, and for the development of general healthfulness and vigour the settlers of the Colony soon found themselves in an ideal region.
Natural Resources, etc.
Natural resources were not quite so apparent. A wealth of brilliant flowers and tropical plants existed, but forests were few, timber was scarce and costly, and it was years before the introduction of the Australian Eucalyptus embowered many a village from the Cape to Kimberley and from Buluwayo to Pretoria in groves of that useful tree. The land in some cases was fertile, but, on the whole, was perhaps more suited to the raising of sheep and cattle than to agriculture in the American or Canadian sense. Farming of the latter kind involves severe labour, and neither the original slaves, the coloured labourers of an after-time, nor the Dutch farmers, were fitted by disposition or nature for the work. But, as the population increased from 26,000 Europeans in 1805 to 182,000 in 1865, and to 237,000 ten years later, the country assumed a more civilized and prosperous appearance. Sheep and cattle were literally scattered over a thousand hills, while various collateral industries were developed by English settlers which the slow-moving Dutch would never have dreamed of. Between 1812 and 1820 the Merino sheep was introduced, and its wool soon became a source of profit and wealth. In 1865 ostrich farming was commenced, and speedily developed great importance through the process of artificial incubation. Roads were made, churches and schools were built, municipal government in the towns and villages was introduced, and the Colonial finances were put into shape despite the expenses of Kaffir wars and native troubles—which were mainly charged to the Imperial exchequer. The first railway was constructed in 1859, and wagon roads were carried over various mountain passes and through much of the settled part of the country.
An Executive Council Created
In 1834 an Executive Council had been created composed of members nominated by the Governor, and therefore more or less dependent upon his good-will. Perhaps at that time, and in view of the limited population, the racial rivalry and religious and educational complications, it was just as well that such a body should not be elective, as some desired. Twenty years later, however, when conditions had somewhat changed, a representative Legislature was established composed of a Council and a House of Assembly. Members were to be elected upon a wide franchise, with no distinction of race or color, excepting that a Kaffir had to hold some small amount of property and to have given up the tribal system. There were very few natives in this condition. Meanwhile the dissensions between the Dutch part of the population and the missionaries continued, and they extended at times to the English settlers also. There can be no doubt of the intense irritation aroused by this controversy. The Dutchman looked upon the native as created and existing for his special benefit, and through the effect of contiguity and similarity of conditions often induced the English farmer to agree with him. The missionary, on the other hand, believed himself appointed to guard the interests of the weaker race, and was too apt to forget the suffering caused by Kaffir raids from the outside, in his general sympathy for the downtrodden representatives of the race in the Colony itself.
A Long Struggle
From about 1820 to 1860 this struggle lasted. It weakened the hands of the Governors, who usually shared the Colonial view of the Kaffir wars, as against the missionaries. It injured the reputation of the Colonial Office throughout South Africa from the widespread belief that its officials were inspired, or guided, by the friends of the missionaries and by the impracticable sentiments of Exeter Hall, rather than by the wishes of the people of Cape Colony. It seriously affected the continuity of policy which should have marked the action of the British Government, in these regions of all others, and which, unfortunately, so seldom characterized their treatment of either Cape Governors or native questions. In 1846 commenced the seventh Kaffir or Kosa war. Sandili was the heir of Gaika, the Kosa chief who had figured in a previous conflict, and he had for some time prior to this date permitted raids upon the settlers of the Colony's eastern territory, and had entirely disregarded pledges and arrangements. Finally, Sir Peregrine Maitland sent a military force to occupy the region controlled by Sandili and bring him to terms. With incomprehensible but oft-repeated carelessness in South African warfare, a long ammunition wagon train following the expedition was left practically unguarded, and was, of course, surprised and seized by the Kaffirs. A Sweeping Raid The result of the ensuing retreat of the British troops was a combination of the Kosa and the Tembu tribes, a sweeping raid along the entire frontier, the murder of settlers, the capture of cattle, and the burning of dwellings. The local forces of the Colony were hastily got together, and operations carried on in a scattered sort of way for some months until the arrival of several British regiments from abroad. A temporary submission was then made by the natives with a view to the planting of their maize. As soon as this was garnered the war broke out again.
The province of British Kaffraria
The Governor had meantime been recalled, and was succeeded for a few months by Sir Henry Pottinger. Sandili, however, soon had enough of the struggle, and, in 1847, peace was made after an enormous cost to the British authorities and amid the clamor of ruined Eastern farmers. At the end of the year Lieutenant-General Sir Harry Smith came out as Governor and High Commissioner, with unusual personal powers and under the awakening perception of the Colonial Office that it was better to let the man on the spot guide affairs than to attempt the real government of South Africa from six thousand miles away. It was not a permanent awakening, but it was useful so long as it lasted. Sir Harry Smith adopted the repudiated native policy of Sir Benjamin D'Urban; proclaimed the territory between the Kei and the Keiskama as a British possession for the absolute use of the western clans of the Kosa tribe; appointed a Commissioner to exercise general authority over the Chiefs and sent a strong body of troops to garrison various forts; and named the region—which once for a brief season had been called after Queen Adelaide—the Province of British Kaffraria. A few years later the eighth Kaffir war took place. The tribes seem to have considered the peace as nothing more than a truce, and as soon as the British authorities began to suppress the worst of their savage customs—notably the murders and tortures arising out of the hunt for witchcraft—discontent very speedily developed into the war of 1850-51. The usual struggle followed, with surprises, raids, murders and the ravaging of the frontier. The war was the most costly of all the conflicts with these restless tribes, and was specially marked by an event memorable in the annals of British bravery—the loss of H. M. S. Birkenhead with 400 soldiers on board. It occurred near Algoa Bay, where the ship had struck a reef in the middle of the night. The women, children and sick people were sent away safely, in all the available boats, while the troops remained drawn up in line as though on parade, with the ship breaking up under them and a sea swarming with sharks around them.