There was a new governor in Cape Town. In 1838 Sir Benjamin D’Urban had been succeeded by Sir George Napier who was not only alarmed at the goings on in Zululand but was also not averse to a bit of stealthy empire-building. He had in fact decided that neither the Zulus, the Boers, nor indeed the English traders, had any right of ownership to Port Natal as, in fact, it belonged to Britain. He had recently written to the Colonial Secretary in London:
The Zulus have no claim to Port Natal other than that which any barbarous nation might pretend to have to any portion of ground which they had once overrun and depopulated, but of which they did not maintain the right of possession. The right of occupancy of Port Natal, if any such right can be said to exist, belongs to the Crown of Great Britain. The few British and other settlers and the emigrant farmers are merely unauthorised intruders on the soil.
In response to that somewhat illogical declaration, Governor Napier had been authorised to send a small expeditionary force to establish order. It fell to the lot of Major Samuel Charters and one hundred officers and men of the 72nd (Duke of Albany’s Own Highlanders) Regiment of Foot, to put Port Natal and the territory beyond, under British authority. Napier further explained to the Colonial Secretary that the object of the British occupation would be to bring an end to the fighting between the Boers and the Zulus through the expedient of cutting off the Boer supply of ammunition and gunpowder. It would also prevent the Boers from establishing an independent republic that could be in a position to control the only port on hundreds of miles of coast line.
The British military mission, aboard hired vessels, arrived at Port Natal on 3 December 1838, missing the departure of Pretorius for his expedition against Dingane by just a few days. In the absence of most of the Boer fighting men, there was no resistance to the British landing, the nervous civilians in fact welcoming the presence of the troops.
Major Charters wasted no time in exerting control and when Pretorius and his column returned some weeks later, Pretorius’s triumphant ebullience turned to dismay when he saw the Union Jack flying over a new fort that Charters had constructed at the entrance to the harbour. However, Pretorius prudently let things ride for the moment and, with the atmosphere tense, Charters sailed back to Cape Town to report in person, leaving the forty-year-old Captain Henry Jervis, an experienced and highly-capable soldier, to handle the volatile situation.
If peace were to be established between the emigrants and the Zulu kingdom, representatives of both factions would need to come to terms. With this objective in mind, Jervis enlisted the help of Henry Ogle who made contact with Dingane in his capital 170 miles north of the port.
9. Andries Pretorius, the victor of Blood River. According to Boer accounts of the battle, he was the only casualty: a slight wound to the hand. Conversely the Boers claimed to have slain 3,000 Zulus. (KZN Archives, Pietermaritzburg)
Dingane immediately responded by appointing Chief Gambutshi as his representative who informed Jervis that Dingane rejoiced at the prospect of peace. However, when Pretorius heard of the negotiations he was furious and demanded that the Boers be privy to, and participate in, all future negotiations. To back up his demands he made mention of 2,000 armed and mounted Boers who were assembling on the other side of the Drakensberg in preparation for settling in Natal.
Finally a meeting was arranged with the Zulu contingent handing over, as a sign of their goodwill, more than 200 horses, being the former property of Piet Retief and his followers. The return of all the captured firearms was also promised.
Jervis proposed the Tongaat River as the boundary between Natal and Zululand but the Boers would not have it, insisting that the Tugela be the dividing line thus giving the emigrants an additional thirty miles of coastline. The Zulu envoys nevertheless agreed and Jervis was able to report the success of his diplomatic negotiations to Governor Napier in the Cape. Yet, had the British been aware of the Boers’ desire for revenge, they would have been more cautious: Pretorius, in reference to those 2,000 Boers about to descend the Drakensberg, wrote that they were ‘all anxious to give the last deathblow to the now humiliated bloodhound [Dingane], and which he certainly shall not escape’. However, Pretorius, not wishing a confrontation with Britain, wisely bided his time and prepared for the future when, hopefully, the British would have departed. Nevertheless, within months, Pretorius was challenging Captain Jervis in the most threatening manner:
We, the undersigned leaders of the emigrant farmers, party to the late Peace Treaty with the Zulus and others, do hereby solemnly declare that provided the ammunition which was seized by the troops on the occupation of the port is restored to us, it is not our intention to turn our arms against the Zulus, or any other of the native tribes, but to restrict ourselves to measures of self-defence alone, on the territory we now occupy. We positively declare that the peace between us and the surrounding natives is positively certain and will continue as long as they deal with us in a proper manner. We find also in the Cape newspapers proposals for the establishment of a British colony and although we take little notice of what the newspapers say, we have yet to signify to you, should you remain here for that purpose, that we shall never allow one or more persons to establish themselves here without subjecting themselves to the jurisdiction of this community.
And, with the arrival of hundreds more emigrants, Pretorius made additional demands on Dingane who now had his back to the northern boundary of his kingdom. As he could retreat no further without contesting the land of the amaSwazi, the age-old enemies of the Zulus, Dingane decided to summon his army from all corners of the kingdom. But his half-brother, Mpande (who it will be remembered had defeated the Port Natal Volunteers), failed to respond. Mpande, whose territory was the closest to Natal being on the north bank of the Tugela, could see that his domain would be the first battleground in any conflict with the whites. He therefore decided to defect into Natal with all his followers and cattle. The sight of Mpande’s 17,000 followers crossing the Tugela put the Natal whites into a froth of panic. When it was realised that they were bent on flight, rather than aggression, many a roguish white man turned his covetous attention to the thousands of cattle that accompanied the defecting prince and his warriors. However, the would-be rustlers were restrained and the Boer Volksraad (People’s Parliament) gave Mpande and his people sanctuary in return for their avowed treachery towards Dingane.
Mpande’s temporary home was now only forty miles north of the port and soon a Boer deputation was on its way to formalise a treaty. Included in the contingent was the young French scientist/adventurer who has been mentioned earlier, Adulphe Delegorgue, he who had a firm antipathy for the British and a blossoming admiration for the Zulu people – but not before he was an unwilling witness to frightening events that would make him fear for his life. However, high amongst the attributes that he most admired was the beauty of the Zulu maidens. The morning following the Boer contingent’s arrival at Mpande’s newly-erected village, Delegorgue, an early riser, strolled out to seek the way to the prince’s residence and, finding no attendants to ask, trespassed further and further into the royal enclosure until he suddenly stumbled – or rather crawled – into the royal bedchamber:
Upon mats spread out on the ground, lay ten young girls, their naked bodies firmly rounded and soft as velvet. The limbs of at least six of them were entwined with those of the king [sic], one supported his head upon her body, a living pillow whose breathing induced opium dreams; another bore up his right arm; a third had hold of his left hand and laid her temple upon the broad chest of the brother of Djacka; [Shaka] yet another held his right leg, while the left leg cradled the last one of all.
All were asleep and I, the only watcher, was intending to stay and observe, so that I might describe for you my reader, this charming, dimly lit scene, this picture of the night of an amaZoulou chief, when my companions, the farmers, appeared at the entrance of the hut, demanding audience. I withdrew and told them that Panda was still asleep and that it would be better to wait so as not to upset him.
Delegorgue was able to prevent his companions entering the royal bedchamber and Mpande was left to slumber in peace.
But there was another side to Mpande and the Boers were soon striking a deal with him. The prince and his followers were to join forces against the common enemy, Dingane. The successful outcome of the war yet to be fought, would result in the Boers recognising Mpande as king of the Zulu nation – indeed they would crown him as such – in return, the boundary between Zululand and Natalia would not be (as we have already heard) the Tongaat River but, instead, the more northern Tugela. In addition, a strip of coastline, 110 miles long, was to be conceded to them giving access to St Lucia Bay. This, the Boers surmised, would afford them control of all the harbours between the northern Cape and Mozambique thus foiling any further attempts by the Cape Government to bring them under British authority. And Mpande, bolstered by the Boers, would no longer give his allegiance to Dingane and, if not yet a king, Mpande would be a prince and the independent ruler of his people.
10. George French Angas was an early traveller/artist at the time when the Zulu army was at the height of its power and magnificence. (Amafa, Durban)
The Boers further demanded that three of Mpande’s chiefs be created ministers of his realm, that they be privy to the treaty and accountable in the event of any harm befalling Mpande. Two chiefs were immediately nominated but Mpande pondered for some time before naming the third. Finally all three were appraised of the treaty terms and expressed their approval. Well pleased, the new ministers departed to inform the nation that it had been ordered to assemble.
Delegorgue had witnessed these proceedings and, shortly after their conclusion, had wandered away to his wagon to sleep. Hardly had he drifted off when he was awakened by an ‘indescribable clamour’.
One of the three new ministers, having arrived at the plain and having addressed the assembled multitude, was now destined to die. It was, it transpired, the third man that Mpande had been so hesitant to nominate, knowing what his fate would be. It was a custom, a ritual of the nation, that on being recognised by his people as their king – or he who would be such – his first act of authority was to condemn to death a person of consequence. The third minister had been the unlucky one destined to perish. That was horrifying enough but the method of his death, that the Boers were about to witness, was doubly horrific. Let Delegorgue continue:
All those kaffirs who had previously been silent listeners, now took an active part in the bloody altercations. A long undulating serpent of men coiled its way towards a particular spot, where all the fighting sticks were struck downwards and when raised again were tinged with blood. The crowd which clustered about the scene of action were uttering loud confused cries as if to stifle those of the victims and conceal the hideous sight.
It was a man whom they were bludgeoning to death and the man was Panga Zonga, the third of Panda’s great headmen, the one who had just accepted responsibility for the life of the chief.
The Boers, unaware that the killing was demanded of Mpande by ancient custom, were appalled. The bloody throng offered the white men a simple explanation that they believed would be understood: ‘He was a great rascal and a wizard’, they said. ‘A man, who under Dingane, had been the cause of many deaths.’ It was believed by the multitude that it had carried out an act of justice but the outrage, following so closely on the death of Piet Retief and his followers, filled Delegorgue and his companions with dread and they feared they might be turned upon at any moment. But, keeping a brave face and resisting the temptation to exhibit their fear by flight, they sought Mpande and demanded an explanation:
He came feigning anger: 4,000 warriors formed a circle about him and he glared with apparent menace at the perpetrators of the murder. In our eyes, Mpande had absolved himself of the crime; his eloquence convinced us of his innocence and only several days later did we learn that this had been his first act of authority: the moment we recognised him as chief of his tribe a man had to die by his orders and the blood of the same man was to be used to anoint his limbs at night while the heart, roasted, was to be presented to him to eat, so that it might fortify his body and quicken his courage.
Delegorgue went on to say that there were those at Port Natal who denied such allegations but, later, after living amongst Mpande’s people for ten months, Delegorgue had no doubt that such was the custom. However, for the moment, the Boer delegation were happy to believe what they were told. Delegorgue continued: ‘Never before had I seen so great a number of men gathered together. The eloquence of the orators, the exaggerated repetity of their movements, their impassioned speeches, the profusion of their words, the quick, bold gestures, unfamiliar to us Europeans, gestures which were more eloquent than words, all this struck me in a most peculiar way.’
In order to divert their minds from the horror of the killing, Mpande called upon the assembled throng to perform and entertain the white men: ‘Suddenly a thousand shrill whistles rent the air, loud enough to split even a kaffir’s head. All the warriors had begun running at great speed, fanning out in every direction. When they were about 300 paces from the centre, they suddenly spun around as one man; then, chanting their war cry, these warriors who all looked like devils to me began to charge.’
Now convinced that he was about to suffer a similar fate as Retief, Delegorgue ran for his life but the warriors fanned out, broke ranks and allowed him passage to his wagon where he snatched up his gun ready to fight to the last. But it was not necessary: ‘I had completely misunderstood the situation and I had been the more easily misled because I did not know the amaZulu customs. This simulated anger, this sudden advance, this wild stamping, accompanied by the most horrible hissing, was the prelude to a war dance. . . ’ Fortunately, just as the dancing had reached its climax, a deluge of rain descended, cooling the passions of the throng, everyone scattering and seeking shelter.
Finally, and with much relief, the Boers bade farewell to Mpande and set off for Pietermaritzburg. When but a few miles from home, they were met with the news that a messenger from Dingane had arrived at Pietermaritzburg and had addressed the assembled Boers on his master’s behalf. He expressed for the Boers’ benefit the king’s cautionary opinion of Mpande: ‘He is not a man; he has turned away his face; he is a woman. He was useless to Dingane his master, and he will be of no use to you. Do not trust him, for his face may turn again.’