In 1827, John Ross became the first of Shaka’s white emissaries to set out from Dukuza, the Zulu capital. But Ross was not so much an envoy of the Zulu king as an emissary of his white companions – although his escort, that would ensure the fulfilment of his purpose and safe return, was comprised solely of the king’s warriors. An eleven-year-old boy would seem to be a strange choice for the dangerous journey that he was to undertake – especially so as the traders were not short of grown men. Having been marooned for well over half a year, they were in dire need of various necessities but their greatest want was that of medicines.
At the time Ross was most likely resident with Shaka at Dukuza. From the start, the king had been taken by the boy’s flaming red hair: ‘It appeared that the colour of my hair, which at the time was a brilliant red, had struck him with admiration and astonishment, being no doubt the first of that colour he had ever seen . . . He kept me with him first as a sort of rare pet animal.’ There is no doubt that Shaka was amused by the boy and allowed him to take greater liberties than most in and around the royal presence. Years later Ross wrote that Shaka had bestowed upon him ‘. . . a large amount of genuine kindness and, I must add, a large share of indulgence’.
The traders, having no vessel at the time, were desperate to make overland contact with the Portuguese at Delagoa Bay (present-day Maputo), 300 miles to the north, where they hoped medicines could be obtained. It would be a hazardous undertaking and without a strong escort the traveller would be doomed. Most likely Ross had been chosen because of Shaka’s fondness for the boy, the traders assuming the king would provide him with a bodyguard, which indeed he did.
Ross eventually set off with thirty warriors commanded by a chief named Langelibalele (not to be confused with another chief of the same name who was in conflict with the Natal government forty-six years later), whom Ross remembered with great affection.
When disease and death had thinned the ranks of our crew, and the chance of completing the little vessel we had commenced building, with a view to get back to the civilised world, became exceedingly doubtful, Langelibalele was the name of a chief appointed by King Shaka, who at the time ruled the Zulu nation, to command a party of thirty warriors, charged with the escort of the writer to the Portuguese settlement at Delagoa Bay. Though it was at the time a perilous journey, nobly and faithfully did the chief and his men perform this duty.
However, it was not merely the presence of his escort, it was the fact that they were the envoys of the mighty Shaka whose armies even the Portuguese regarded with trepidation; and Ross’s journey was accomplished with great success.
A year or two after Ross’ exploit, circumstances at Port Natal necessitated the departure of another diplomatic mission. On this occasion it would proceed south to Algoa Bay, strictly on the king’s business. Shaka, like lesser mortals, not only feared dying but, more than most, feared getting old, for advancing years and apparent loss of virility was a death sentence for a warrior king. And, plain for all to see, there were grey hairs in Shaka’s beard, the herald of both age and the assassin’s spear. Isaacs wrote: ‘It will be seen that it is one of the barbarous customs of the Zulus in their choice, or election of their kings, that he must neither have wrinkles nor grey hairs.’ On several occasions Shaka had surreptitiously enquired of the white men why it was that amongst them there were many different hair colours; and was it possible for them to choose whatever colour they desired? Later, having been told the truth of the matter, a disgruntled Shaka observed Fynn busily writing with pen and ink and enquired whether or not the markings made by the ink were of a permanent nature. Having been advised that they were, Shaka cast the contents of the inkbottle onto a white ox-hide shield and was bitterly disappointed to find that there was no permanent discoloration. Thereafter, abandoning discretion, he demanded to know whether or not the white men had a solution to his problem. Not realising the seriousness of the king’s purpose, Farewell rashly assured him there was a potion that would not only permanently turn grey hair black but, unwittingly, gave Shaka the impression that macassa oil would remove wrinkles and restore youth.
Shaka immediately called for Isaacs, King and Fynn and having received their reluctant assurance that macassa oil would go some way to restoring his hair and vigour, he swore them all to secrecy. From that moment on, at every opportunity, Shaka harassed the traders to find some way of obtaining the magic potion. Now realising that they had unwisely raised the king’s expectations and that retribution was bound to follow, the castaways made every effort to deride the qualities of ‘Rowlands’ Macassa Oil’ but the more they protested the more determined the king became. Shaka convinced himself that it was a product reserved for royalty and that it was exclusively used by ‘umGeorge’ (George IV). Shaka was determined to possess it.
The apprehensive traders had a tiger by the tail, knowing that there was little likelihood of ever finding macassa oil in Cape Town, even if they were able to get there. However, Shaka knew exactly how to stimulate their endeavour. He set his warriors on a great elephant hunt and produced eighty-six tusks as a down payment and the traders set about the pursuit of macassa oil with renewed vigour.
Shaka now had a dual purpose in sending a deputation to the Cape: first to obtain macassa oil and, in addition, to present an ambassador to the realm of his royal brother umGeorge. Fortuitously, a vessel was at hand to convey a deputation south. As usual, Shaka required one of the castaways to remain as hostage and had selected Isaacs for the purpose. But, as Isaacs had been ill for some time, Fynn, who always seemed happy to stay put in Zululand, agreed to remain in Isaacs’ stead.
On 10 March 1828, four years to the day since Fynn had first set foot in Zululand, the deputation, including Shaka’s ambassador, Chief Sotobe, and other Zulu notables, was ready to sail to Algoa Bay (present day Port Elizabeth). It was an uneventful voyage of four days which, compared with the hazards and duration of an overland journey – several weeks or even months – must have seemed like a miracle to Sotobe and his companions. But on arrival at Algoa Bay, and having appraised the British authorities that the emissaries of Shaka, the mighty Zulu King, were aboard bound for London, there was little reaction.
So, apart from the restriction that Sotobe should not see the garrison defences – an indication that the colonial government was wary of the deputation being spies – their reception had been most satisfactory and they all expected a vessel to arrive any day to convey them to south and on to London. However, they waited in vain. Instead, Major Cloete, a rather sinister figure, made an unannounced appearance, confronted Isaacs and commenced to question everyone. Nor did Cloete have the courtesy to ask Lieutenant King, the leader of the deputation, for the information that he sought but, without pause, kept up his interrogation of Sotobe who became angered and indignant.
The hopes and aspirations of the deputation were doomed; no ship arrived to convey them to Cape Town, let alone to London. At the whim of the Major, they were detained at Algoa Bay for three months, giving the furious chiefs ample time to acquaint themselves with the unimpressive little town, little more than a village in fact, with its paltry facilities and puny defences. Not only were Sotobe and his fellow chiefs furious, they now felt that for the last three years they had been duped by the traders. Where was the might of King George that they had heard so much about? Instead of castles and towers, there were flimsy dwellings; and instead of mighty armies there were but a scattering of soldiers clad in, of all things, red coats that would reveal their position at twenty times the distance that a warrior could cast a spear. Sotobe would carry to Shaka a very different description of the white man’s power.
Back at Dukuza, Shaka had become over-impatient to grasp hands in friendship with – as he had been led to believe – the only other monarch in the world equal to him in wealth and might, his royal brother, umGeorge. Restlessly, Shaka began to contemplate that it would be but a few weeks’ work for his army to scatter the frontier tribes that stood between him and the fulfilment of his vision: the two great kings united. John Ross made mention of Shaka’s obsession: ‘Shaka had one engrossing idea – that there should only be two kings in the world, King George to be King of the whites and he, Shaka, King of the blacks.’
Having heard no word from his emissaries, Shaka decided to act. Within hours his warriors were marching south, creating panic and consternation, not only amongst the frontier tribes but also amongst the white people beyond the border, causing the military and the settlers of the Cape to join forces against what they believed to be a Zulu invasion.
4 . A senior chief with his counsellors and guards
But Fynn, having belatedly heard of Shaka’s intentions, prevailed upon him to abandon the invasion. Being ordered to retire, Shaka’s warriors turned the manoeuvre into a gigantic cattle raid, looting an estimated 10,000 beasts. To complete the chaos, the British army, finding the frontier tribes armed and ready to do battle with the Zulus, who were expected to appear at any moment, mistook the tribesmen for the invaders and fell upon them and, according to Isaacs, ‘committed great havoc and slaughter’.
So when Shaka met his returning emissaries a few days later – they having been refused further passage to Cape Town – his anger turned to fury when he learnt that not only had his mission been a complete failure, worse still, there was no ‘Rowlands Macassa Oil’ to be had. Sotobe, fearing for his life, accused the white men of having hoodwinked Shaka for years, assuring the enraged monarch that the English were a race of little consequence and that King George was, in fact, the name of a mountain.
Lieutenant King, the erstwhile leader of the mission, fraught with disappointment and an unknown affliction, had been too ill to journey to Shaka’s presence, instead it was the unfortunate Isaacs who Shaka believed to be the cause of his displeasure: ‘I began to perceive that I stood on the brink of eternity, and that the next look of the savage might be a signal for my death. In this state of horrible suspense I remained three days.’
There is little doubt that the traders were in great jeopardy. Fynn described what happened:
The description given by the chiefs of their reception differed very much from what Shaka had expected, and they represented everything to the greatest disadvantage to escape being punished by death for not proceeding England. This, would be the deficiency of the so-much expected macassa oil, enraged Shaka against the whole of us, his passion for the present venting itself on Mr Isaacs, whom he endeavoured in every way to insult, accusing Mr King of having plundered his property and bestowing abuse on the whole of us.
However, the monarch’s wrath eventually passed but, to bring further disappointment and sadness to all, including Shaka, Lieutenant King died a few days later. It was as if Shaka’s mission had achieved only death and disappointment. After Lieutenant King’s funeral, Shaka sent for Farewell, Fynn and Isaacs and on arrival at Dukuza expressed his great sorrow and stated that should all the white men ever depart his kingdom, he would have one consolation: ‘That a white man [Lieutenant King], and a chief too, lived a long time in my country without molestation from myself or from my people, and that he died a natural death – that will ever be a source of much satisfaction to me.’
Shaka then appointed Isaacs as his chief of the white men and of Natal, and made him a grant of the very same stretch of land that he had made over to Farewell and Company a few years earlier. Fynn makes no mention of Isaacs’ good fortune, or perhaps he was unaware that Port Natal had been subjected to a change of ownership. Or perhaps he was too distracted by further deaths that, like a curse, followed that of Lieutenant King. Within weeks of the emissaries’ return from Algoa Bay, Farewell had set out overland for the Cape with the intention of returning with wagonloads of trade goods, but was later murdered in Pondoland by a renegade tribe. In the meantime, a more momentous murder had taken place. The great Shaka had been assassinated by his brother Dingane and his accomplices. Did the mighty monarch perish for the want of a thimbleful of macassa oil?
5. Lt. James Saunders King was buried on the Bluff where his headstone remains to this day. He was a friend of, and respected by, King Shaka.
(Campbell Collection, Durban)