With the death of Shaka, the traders had to re-appraise their already somewhat precarious position. Although Shaka had the blood of many on his hands he had treated his sponging white visitors with reasonable respect and, as John Ross had noticed, a fair amount of tolerance. What of his assassin, Dingane? It seemed as though Dingane was just as intrigued with the white men as Shaka had been and, like Shaka, was taken in with their tales of British power and might.
Shortly after the successful coup, a deputation of traders wisely tramped north to pay homage to Dingane. Isaacs was not slow in recording his opinion of the new king:
War and dominion were the ruling passions of Shaka; while women, luxury, and ease, absorbed the whole mind of Dingane. Shaka was the bold and daring monarch of the Zulus, whose name struck a panic amongst the neighbouring tribes; Dingane, on the other hand, is too inert to be feared, and too compliant to be obeyed. . . . Dingane is certainly impressed with the extra-ordinary idea of the power of a British monarch . . .
Isaacs was, however, impressed with the new king’s royal bearing:
. . . He is tall, at least six foot in height, and admirably, if not symmetrically, proportioned. He is well featured, and of great muscular power; of a dark brown complexion, approaching to a bronze colour. Nothing can exceed his piercing and penetrating eye, which he rolls in a moment of anger with surprising rapidity, and in the midst of festivities with inconceivable brilliancy. His whole frame seems as if it were knit for war, and every manly exercise; it is flexible, attractive, and firm. He is reserved, even to the extreme, and in speaking he seems to weigh every word before he utters it, often displaying an impediment in his speech, although he has not any such imperfection, but from a desire to be distinct and to be understood . . . His language is impressive, but more like that of a courtier than a warrior, as he generally discourses on domestic subjects but little about war. He is neither so credulous nor so superstitious as his people, but is very susceptible to any want of respect, when he evinces his displeasure in a tone which cannot be mistaken. He is exceedingly anxious to acquire information, manifests a great desire to be taught himself, and to have his people taught the knowledge of creation; and thus continually expresses a wish to have the missionaries settled amongst them, who, he assures us, shall have encouragement and protection.
At that time there were no missionaries at Port Natal. In fact, Christian zeal was an unlikely virtue amongst the rough hunter/traders. But the missionaries, in their due order of appearance, would surely come, as the Zulu kingdom and its people would find to their cost: first the traders, then the missionaries, and finally and inevitably, the red soldiers.
At the time, Dingane had what amounted to a standing army conservatively estimated at 50,000 warriors. It is probable that Dingane feared his own army and went some way to defuse his warriors’ urge to wage war. Shaka had placed a prohibition on marriage, believing that his sex-starved army would fight all the harder to achieve their monarch’s approval and permission for the whole regiment to marry forthwith. One of Dingane’s first acts on becoming king, therefore, was to abolish the prohibition in the hope that domestic bliss, with a hardworking wife providing sustenance by her labours with a hoe rather than from booty obtained by the husband’s assegai, would quell his warriors’ martial ardour. However, war had become a way of life and, like all bad habits, was hard to give up. The warriors missed the excitement, the thrill of danger and the elation of conquest; indeed, theirs was an appetite for loot and pillage rather than one for the planting of corn. Isaacs commented: ‘With such a body of people encircling the king, and urging him to pursue some warlike object, the Zulu monarch has merely the shadow of power.’
Perhaps Dingane would have been firmer in his resolve to reduce the power of his army were it not for his fear that he might well need it to repel a British invasion from the Cape. Later in his reign Dingane sent John Cane, once Lieutenant Farewell’s carpenter and one of the earliest traders, to Cape Town on a diplomatic mission. Cane took with him gifts of ivory from Dingane for the governor of the colony. But Cane’s mission, like the earlier one sent by Shaka, was a failure. The British authorities would not let Cane proceed beyond Grahamstown. But on returning to Port Natal Cane did not immediately inform Dingane of his failure nor return the king’s ivory. Dingane was so infuriated, believing in some way that Cane had betrayed him, that he ordered all his cattle to be confiscated and Cane driven out of Zululand – the harshest treatment yet awarded to any European by a Zulu monarch.
Jacob the interpreter, ever eager to seize an opportunity to stir up trouble for the traders, implied that Cane had connived with the British in a plan to invade the Zulu kingdom. Furthermore, Jacob brought to Dingane’s presence a fugitive from the Cape, a man called Kelimba, who explained to Dingane how at first the traders came, built houses and then forts, all the time taking more land. He then described how the missionaries followed and built their houses (churches) so that they could subdue the people by witchcraft, saying that no less than four kings had recently died in the Cape, their deaths being attributed to missionary sorcery. Jacob also confided to the king that when he was in Grahamstown, he was questioned by the red soldiers as to the state of Zululand: were there lots of cattle? What sort of country was it? Were there roads? Jacob’s prophecy, that the white man would soon take all of Zululand, must have been a constant spur to Dingane’s doubts and fears that one day the red soldiers would come from the south and conquer his kingdom. Yet, despite British expansion along the Cape/Pondoland border, there was no move against Zululand and Dingane and the traders at Port Natal lived in peaceful co-existence for a number of years.
As the years passed the ownership of the vast territory that Shaka had made over to Farewell and Company, and which Dingane had subsequently given to Isaacs, became vague when Isaacs, Ross and others of the original castaways eventually moved on and left Zululand forever. Although Fynn and Cane remained, they had for the most part set themselves up as chiefs of their own small domains, far from Dingane’s capital. It was just as well that none were left who could lay claim to the territory for Dingane would shortly give it to yet another white man.
Once Dingane had expressly wished that a missionary would come to reside in Zululand in order to ‘diffuse knowledge amongst his subjects and give him [Dingane] that instruction which he is so anxious to obtain’. In 1835, eleven years after Fynn had first set foot in Zululand, such a man, brimming with religious passion, made his way to Dingane’s capital. Allen Gardiner, once an officer in the Royal Navy, had retired early and, after seven years ashore, had determined to become a missionary. He arrived at Table Bay in November 1834 and wasted little time before setting out overland for Port Natal. By February of the following year he had reached Zululand, eager to preach to the Zulu people and their king.
Gardiner was the first of many missionaries that, over the years, would endeavour to convert the Zulu and he would have no more success than those who would follow, bringing with them various interpretations of Christianity. But for the moment Gardiner had a clear field and it would be many years before even a sprinkling of mission stations would begin to dot the hills of Zululand. However, it seems that Dingane was not as keen to receive Christian instruction as he had been some years earlier.
Gardiner had difficulty in getting the purpose of his business across to the king: it was clear it was not that of trade. It helped matters that Dingane had previously heard of the white man’s God and of the Good Book that Gardiner referred to frequently. Finally Dingane asked if he and his people could be taught and on being assured that they could, ‘seemed to regard the whole as an impossibility’.
Dingane then turned the conversation to gifts and Gardiner was forced to admit that they were still on the road but, to the king’s immense delight, described each one in detail. Next, Dingane wished to be told all about the British monarch and how he governed his people. But, it seems, the influence of Jacob still prevailed in Zululand, for the interview over, Gardiner, on leaving the royal presence, was roughly handled by two of Dingane’s headmen. Gardiner attributed their animosity to the prophecy that Jacob had once made to Shaka:
. . . That a white man, assuming the character of a teacher or missionary, would arrive amongst them, and obtain permission to build a house; that, shortly after, he would be joined by one or two more white men; and in the course of time, an army would enter his country which would subvert his government, and, eventually, the white people would rule in his stead.
Jacob seemed to have described Gardiner’s exact purpose for being at Dingane’s capital. Not a comforting thought. Even more disquieting was Gardiner’s first experience of a Zulu execution. He had not been long at Dingane’s court when he witnessed the sudden apprehension of Goujuana, one of Dingane’s royal brothers, a man Gardiner described as one of the most intelligent-looking men he had ever seen and who possessed an open and engaging countenance; an unassuming man who Gardiner had hoped might well be his first convert to Christianity. Goujuana’s offence seemed to have been contrived by two of Dingane’s powerful izinduna (chiefs) who had persuaded the king that Goujuana was plotting against him. More likely his ‘offence’ was being next in line to the throne. Whatever the reason, Goujuana and his two personal servants were seized and were being hurried through the town to kwaMatiwane, the nearby Hill of Execution, when Gardiner came upon the scene:
The two servants naturally enough had endeavoured to make their escape; but instead of binding them, they [their captors] determined, as they called it, to take away their strength by throwing them down, and striking them violently on all parts of the body with sticks – their blows I could distinctly hear. Again they were placed upon their feet, and urged on less rapidly to the fatal spot, near a large euphorbia tree on the brow of the hill, where the whole process was completed by additional blows on the head. Goujuana, I understand, made no resistance, and only requested, as he was led along, that in consideration of his being a king’s son, he might be strangled, in lieu of being struck with the knob sticks, which was granted.
Horror-stricken, Gardiner stood transfixed and was still standing thus when the principal executioner strode back into town carrying the brass rings that he had taken from the necks of his victims. ‘He advanced directly towards me, and for a second or two, as he was approaching, the thought crossed my mind that I was to be the next victim; but it appeared he was only actuated by curiosity, and after displaying the brass rings, passed on.’ At Dingane’s capital such incidents appeared to be of no great moment and there was no pause in the king’s pursuit of pleasure. Gardiner’s gifts finally arrived, albeit they had suffered on the way due to ‘various submersions’. But the gift that Gardiner had correctly anticipated would cause the greatest pleasure arrived unscathed: a red cloak with a long silky nap.
6. Capt. Allen Gardiner, RN, would stop at nothing to achieve permission to preach to the Zulu people. (KZN Archives, Pietermaritzburg)
In continuance of the First Fruits Ceremony, held in January to celebrate the annual harvest, it was customary for a great festival to be held at the appearance of the next new moon with the entire population gathering just outside the gates of the town. The king’s approach was heralded by a roar of ‘Bayete!’, the royal salute, from a thousand throats. But Dingane’s physique, once perceived by Isaacs as being that of a warrior king, now resembled the physique of a Falstaff:
Tall, corpulent and fleshy, with a short neck, and a heavy foot, he was decked out as a harlequin, and, carried away by the excitement of the moment, seemed almost prepared to become one. A correct taste, at least in these matters, and had his figure been in accord with his equipment, he would have carried the palm in the dance, which he entered into with some zest, and certainly sustained his part with much natural grace, and, for so heavy a man, with no ordinary ease and agility.
Eventually, after being at court for over two months, the longed-for meeting was arranged and Gardiner was able to state his case. Having got into full and zealous stride, he was rudely interrupted by one of the izinduna who abruptly told him that they wished no teaching about ‘the book’ which they could not understand. However, he, Gardiner, would be welcome to stay if he agreed to instruct them in the use of the musket; any other instruction they ‘did not care for’.
Bitterly disappointed and with heavy heart Gardiner took his leave of the Zulu capital where the ceremonies and dancing associated with the First Fruits Celebrations were scheduled to continue, off and on, for another month. On his arrival back at Port Natal there was better news. He was presented with a letter from some of the white inhabitants stating that in view of his unfortunate reception by Dingane, they would support a ‘missionary establishment’ at the Port ‘. . . whose object would be to inculcate industry and religion . . .’.
A mission station, constructed of wattle and daub, was built at an idyllic location amongst giant shady trees in the hills overlooking the bay. Gardiner named it Berea (the area, which retains this name, is now an expensive residential suburb of Durban). By now the native population of the port numbered an estimated 2,500, all being former subjects of King Dingane who, believing their presence amongst the white man undermined his authority, wanted his runaways returned for trial and punishment. There were hints of retribution if the whites did not hand them over.
At the end of April the constant rumours of Dingane’s intention to attack the Port were cause enough for the white inhabitants to call a security meeting:
After some little discussion, on which many plans were advanced, it was unanimously resolved, that as this appeared to be a favourable opportunity, a treaty, based on the following terms, should, if possible, be entered into with Dingane, viz. provided he will guarantee the lives and property of every individual, white and black, now residing at Port Natal; we, on our part, engage to repel with all our power, and never more to receive any deserter from his dominions; and immediately to acquaint him of the circumstance, should any of his people elude our vigilance.
At the same time it was agreed that no runaways should be given up until some arrangement of this nature had met with Dingane’s sanction.
Gardiner was proposed as the Port’s envoy and negotiator, a position that he accepted with alacrity. Two days later he was on his way, accompanied by his interpreter, two servants and a hired wagon. The day following his arrival, Dingane signified his wish to see Gardiner. Amongst the presents he had brought for the king on this occasion were a pair of boots and some parcels of beads of a new spotted design. Dingane was delighted and: ‘Observing that the beads were spotted, he named them the “Ingura” (panther) [leopard] beads, and apparently much pleased amused himself for some time by arranging them in various ways.’ Dingane suddenly decided to absent himself and before long a royal servant arrived and took Gardiner outside to where a concourse of warriors stood surrounding a number of Dingane’s seated indunas. Gardiner was invited to take a seat amongst the ministers and convinced himself that important business was about to be discussed but, to the surprise of all, the king suddenly appeared in the most bizarre attire:
. . . he had caused his whole body, not excepting his face, to be thickly daubed over with red and white clay in spots . . . Thus adorned, a dance and a song were the least I expected, but he contented himself with receiving the acclamations of ‘Byate’ . . . and again retired as unaccountably from the sight of his wondering subjects, who none of them could devise the import of this singular exhibition. All I could collect from them was, that it was a new thing, and he had done it because he was the king and could do what he pleased. It is not, however, improbable that the sight of the spotted beads had put this strange crotchet into his head.
After further delays Gardiner finally succeeded in obtaining another audience with the king at which gifts were once again presented – some of a rather peculiar nature: a pair of naval epaulettes, three pairs of ladies’ gilt bracelets, and a picture depicting the Royal Pavilion at Brighton.
Peculiar or not, Dingane was delighted and much admired Gardiner who had decided to impress by wearing his naval full-dress uniform. So in awe was Dingane at Gardiner’s appearance that he was momentarily speechless. Gardiner, unaware of the cause of the royal silence and fearing that he might be considered rude, enquired whether the king was waiting for him to speak but Dingane, who seemed transfixed by the splendour of the naval uniform, indicated that he would stare some more before he would say a word.
The meeting was off to a good start and it was in this convivial atmosphere that the missionary and the monarch struck a deal. All runaways/deserters from the Kingdom presently residing at Port Natal would be pardoned and allowed to remain without fear of molestation. However, any future deserters were to be apprehended by the residents of Port Natal, bound and forthwith marched back to Zululand for trial (and almost certain death). In return Dingane agreed to guarantee the lives and property of every person, white and black, residing at the Port. Gardiner would also be free to convert all existing deserters to Christianity. Delighted with his success, Gardiner finally departed for Port Natal – but he had cause to wrestle with his conscience: Dingane, in discussing the runaways already at the Port who, in terms of the treaty, were now exempt from prosecution, had informed Gardiner that there was one man, Makanjana by name, who Dingane particularly wished to be returned, to which Gardiner had reluctantly agreed. On arrival at Port Natal Gardiner instigated a manhunt and after several days Makanjana was apprehended, bound and delivered to Gardiner together with several recent runaways, including a woman, who Gardiner was treaty-bound to return to the King. Within hours, he with his prisoners, was on his way to Dingane.
On reaching the capital, Mgungundlovu, Gardiner found Dingane to be delighted that his runaway subjects had been brought back for trial, in fact he ‘. . . appeared in high glee. His women were all singing around him: and on my seating myself, he pointed to me and said that it was on my account this rejoicing was made. I could have burst into tears – it was a most trying situation . . . I scarcely dared turn to the right – the countenance of Nonha [the woman prisoner] and her companions was truly distressing. During the long journey of 120 miles they had anticipated a cruel death; and now every instant they expected to be hurried away to execution.’ However the execution was stayed – there were other plans for their deaths – and the following day Gardiner did his best to persuade Dingane to pardon them all, but without success.
A couple of days later Gardiner prepared to depart, by which time it was clear that Dingane intended to starve the prisoners to death. However, they were still manacled with Gardiner’s handcuffs which he now wished to recover.
They [the prisoners] were evidently in a state of alarm, supposing that they could only be loosened for the purpose of immediate execution, but the object being explained, they became calm, and soon after returned to their place of confinement. . . . On leaving town I saw them again, the last thing, recommending them to think much of what had been said to them, and to pray to God through Jesus Christ, as He was able to save their souls, and do them good in another world: they all looked piteously, thanked me, and wished me a pleasant journey.
And so the heinous bargain between the missionary and the monarch was concluded. Dingane had the satisfaction of punishing his defecting subjects while Gardiner no doubt justified himself with the thought that he might well have saved the first Zulu souls even if it were at the expense of their lives.
Back at Port Natal the traders, with a new sense of security as a result of the treaty, decided to lay out the bounds of a new town. However, it was not long before Gardiner was trudging back to Zululand in answer to Dingane’s urgent summons.
Despite the presents that Gardiner had as usual brought for the king, he was not given the attention that he normally enjoyed. Eventually he received word that Dingane was too much occupied with overseeing the construction of his new capital and that Gardiner should deal with his izindunas instead. Gardiner was soon aware that there was serious trouble afoot. Not only were runaways still receiving sanctuary at Port Natal, young girls were being abducted by white traders and taken away in the white men’s wagons. Highly upset, Gardiner insisted on seeing the King, and to impress him, again presented himself in full-dress uniform. The meeting was a success. Gardiner assured Dingane that those guilty of absconding with the girls were not true Englishmen, that they would be reprimanded and the runaways returned. He further assured Dingane that:
. . . the word, which had passed between us, should not fall to the ground; if deserters were found at Port Natal, he might rely upon them being sent back. Dingane then said, that he considered me as Chief of the white people there; and that he should look to me to keep things right. I told him that as far as I was able this should be done, but that beyond persuasion I had no power. His reply was, ‘You must have power. I give you all the country called Issibubulungu – You must be chief over all the people there.’
So the same land that Shaka had given to Farewell and Company and had subsequently re-allocated to Isaacs, Dingane now gave to Gardiner. However, it was the last time that a Zulu king would be in a position to bestow the property: within a few months, other white men would take it by force of arms.
Gardiner, delighted with his success and with the acquisition of a territory that could form a new British colony, decided he must set out for the Cape forthwith and thence on to England. His subsequent hazardous overland journey took weeks. He eventually presented his case to an impressed Sir Benjamin D’Urban, Governor of the Cape, who lost no time in communicating with Dingane:
His Brittanic Majesty’s Governor of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope to the Chief of the Zoolus, Dingane.
I rejoice to hear of the good word which has passed between the Chief and Captain Gardiner and of the Treaty concluded between them for the town and people of Port Natal.
An officer on the part of the King of England, my master, shall speedily be sent to Port Natal, to be in authority there in place of Captain Gardiner, until his return, and to communicate with the Chief, Dingarn, upon all matters concerning the people of Natal. By him I will send to the Chief presents, in token of friendship and good understanding, of which I hereby assure the Chief in the name of the King, my master.
Signed, Benjamin D’Urban,
Governor of the Colony of the Cape of Good Hope.
Given at the Cape of Good Hope, this Fifth day of December, 1835.
(Note that the Governor did not deign to address Dingane as ‘King’, calling him instead ‘Chief’, an arrogant mode of address that the British Government would perpetuate in its dealings with all Zulu monarchs). The communication was put aboard theDovewhich then set sail for Port Natal. A fortnight later, just thirteen months since he first landed at Cape Town, Gardiner sailed for Liverpool. But before he departed he wrote a memorandum extolling the benefits that would arise from Britain’s colonisation of ‘Victoria’, the name that he had bestowed upon the territory. In his memorandum Gardiner maintained that Britain would not need to fear the expense of a full-time military presence of red soldiers. Instead he assured D’Urban that a number of Durban natives, selected for their knowledge of firearms already acquired whilst hunting, could be trained by British NCOs and, he naively continued, after three months’ training he would have no hesitation in pitting them against the whole Zulu army. At the time, Gardiner’s disparaging assessment of the Zulu army’s prowess was never put to the test but forty-three years later a British general, equally overconfident and dismissive, echoed Gardiner’s proposal and assembled an army, equipped with the latest weaponry, of 15,000 men with which to invade Zululand. Almost 60 per cent of this force were Port Natal (Natal Colony) natives led by white NCOs. The battle that followed on 22 January 1879, of which more later, was one of the worst defeats ever inflicted on a British army.
Just about the time Sir Benjamin had been signing his letter to Dingane, more missionaries, who must have encountered Gardiner on his way south, arrived at Dingane’s court. How different they were to the middle-aged, humourless Gardiner. All were American and their leader, George Champion was only twenty-four years of age, his wife a mere nineteen and the others, Aldin Grant, Dr Adams and their wives much the same age.
The Americans encountered far fewer problems than Gardiner ever had and, within no time, in the most primitive conditions, had set up a mission station inside Zululand ten miles north of the Tugela River. Dingane was quite taken with the young people and their children, so much so they were required to visit the king once a month having to walk, or travel by ox wagon, the 200-mile return journey. Perhaps they did not labour the contention that there was a greater king than Dingane. If that were the case it was a different matter with a local chief to whom Champion had preached, only to find that he was accused, a few days later, of being a wizard and responsible for an eclipse and an earthquake that occurred shortly thereafter. Yet, despite illness, death and the most primitive conditions (‘At present three cross-legged stools constitute our stock of movable seats. With these and our boxes we are intending to manage until we can get some plain chairs from America’), they continued, steadfast, until they, together with all the other white inhabitants of Natal were, only a few months later, forced to flee.