And John Dunn adds: “The above letter made the king change his plans, although it enraged him, as I could plainly see.” Again John Dunn says: “From this time the tone of Cetywayo toward the English government began to change, and I could see, from the constant secret meetings which took place, that his intention was to make war somewhere; but I did not for a moment believe it was his intention to fight against the English, although I could see that he was greatly exasperated at the tone of the government, assuming an authority over him that he did not think they had a right to do.”

Then if we consider the refusal of Cetywayo to give up the men who made a raid into Natal (see appendix, ultimatum, clause 10, etc.), but instead was busy massing his warriors, and further, the recollection still fresh in the memory of all (when my own father-in-law had to fly for his life), how Cetywayo’s uncles, Tchaka and Dingaan, had swept Natal time after time, until “before Tchaka was killed” by his brother Dingaan, “he was supposed to have destroyed a million of human beings,” who will blame the anxiety of the colonists, especially when at this time the native tribes in the Cape Colony and Griqualand West were all engaged in rebellion against the English government?

The next factor in this war was the annexation of the Transvaal by the English government, professedly as a protection against the natives. The land dispute between the Transvaal and Cetywayo (see appendix, ultimatum clause, 3 to 10) had to be taken with the republic, and now the task of appeasing both parties in the matter was more than any government could possibly accomplish. The delay in settling the disputed land question had led to an impatient act on Cetywayo’s part (see appendix, ultimatum, clause 4). The English government, knowing well all the weary years of waiting which Cetywayo had borne, might well overlook this action; but when it did at last appoint a commission to settle the question, Cetywayo received a part only of the land he claimed.

Whether the idea was right or wrong, that now the Transvaal had been annexed the view taken by the government was changed by self-interest, it is no less a fact that Cetywayo was disappointed, and fresh fuel had been added to his disaffection.

At this time Sir Bartle Frere had come upon the scene, confederation being his mission. The danger of an army of trained warriors, 50,000 strong, at the command of an uncivilized king, on the very border of little Natal, was a very great obstacle; and considering Cetywayo’s sullen attitude, what colony in its senses would agree to be confederated with a little colony having such a danger upon its borders? Time can never prove whether Sir Bartle Frere’s judgment was right or wrong in sending the ultimatum and outrageous demands to Cetywayo which forced the war upon him.

There was one man, Mr. John Dunn, who might from his thorough knowledge of the Zulus have averted this war; unfortunately his attempt was delayed until too late, (See appendix—John Dunn’s letter to the Aborigines’ Protection Society). In Mr. Dunn’s book,^[81] which is very interesting reading, he does not tell us of any effort he made with the Natal government to prevent the war, and one cannot help wishing that he had gone earnestly and unceasingly to work, both with the English government and Cetywayo, with that persistency which surely tells in a good cause. Possibly John Dunn did not realize the situation in time.

The recollections of Isandhlwana, Zhlobane and Ulundi make one’s blood run cold; but terrible as this war was, the cruelty and wickedness of having brought it about, could time prove it to have been unnecessary, cannot compare, in my mind, with the cruelty and wickedness of the disastrous Zulu settlement by Sir Garnet Wolseley and the after neglect of the Zulu nation by the English government. It was “adding insult to injury” to place these people under petty chiefs, and the whole nation became demoralized. They would have respected their conquered king even if he had had to accede to all the demands of the ultimatum and to owe allegiance to the English government, and they could have accepted a conquering power more especially when that power was the marvelous English. This latter disposition is what they naturally would have expected. But to place them under petty chiefs was just to set them again at the old game of one chief “eating up” another until one became supreme. When at last Cetywayo was restored it was simple cruelty not to have established him firmly and protected him from all danger. Sad indeed would Bishop Colenso have been had he lived to see the restoration of Cetywayo for which he worked so earnestly. It was poor “justice” that left the king, having destroyed his power, to the mercy of his enemies, and to die very shortly from poison or a broken heart! No one could have expected Cetywayo to resume his old footing among his people through any love they bore him. What does any native chief ever do to make himself beloved? The Zulus possess a dog-like fidelity toward their chiefs, and they may be proud of their conquests, but when we consider that Cetywayo could hold his position by the utmost severity only, ruling by fear rather than love, we cannot be surprised that his restoration without support was an utter failure. Even upon Cetywayo’s death it would not have been too late for England to annex the Zulus and accept a noble mission. With the natural fidelity of the Zulus, how easy a matter, with firm, kind rule, to gain their love as well!

What a field for civilization and Christianity! Supposing a governor had been appointed, laws made to keep the Zulu country for the Zulus, and laws also for their moral good, such as no spirituous liquors allowed, etc., what might not have been made of them? What is the consequence of this shirking of responsibility? As Cetywayo received no material support from England his son and successor was foolish enough to appeal for help to his father’s old enemies, the covetous Boers, who true to their nature have managed to gain possession of the better half of Zululand, and nothing has been done for the improvement or benefit of that grand Zulu nation—the war has brought them ruin only, when it might so easily have resulted in good. England in shirking this responsibility appears to me in the same cruel, sinful light as a mother who leaves her helpless, illegitimate babe on the door-step of a stranger.^[82]