Sir Bartle Frere, whose continued popularity spoke somewhat of colonial approval of the war, had returned to the Cape in June, and his reception at Cape Town “capped the climax of an uninterrupted triumph,” according to The Natal Mercury. That he thought himself deserving of the honours due to a conqueror returning home in triumph we may gather from the fact that he sent no instructions to suppress any demonstrations of delight at his return, although at that very time the latest and perhaps the saddest tragedy of all the sad results of his policy had just been enacted, and Natal, as with one voice, was lamenting the Prince Imperial’s death.
“So be it,” says The Natal Witness of June 12th, 1879, commenting upon this text; “Sir Bartle Frere’s reception capped the climax of an uninterrupted triumph. We are quite ready to believe this, and, as we have said, we are glad at last to have so decided an intimation of what Sir Bartle Frere has intended to do. There are triumphs of various kinds. There is the triumph which surrounds the statesman, who, by gentle persuasion, by cautious reforms, by a personal example of uprightness and unselfishness, has reduced threatening elements of danger, and evolved peace and security out of storm and terror. There is the triumph which is his who, impressed with a deep sense of the value of human life, lays his head upon his pillow every night in the happy confidence that never through his means, either directly or indirectly, has a human life been needlessly sacrificed. There is the triumph of the philanthropist, who, feeling deep in his heart the claims of an aboriginal people to the consideration of a civilised power, has, in his dealings with that people, been careful rather to strain doubtful points in their favour, than to take advantage of their presumed simplicity. There is the triumph of the Christian legislator, who regards the authority entrusted to him as entrusted with a solemn injunction to use that authority in the name of his divine Master, for the purpose of spreading and confirming the kingdom of peace and good will. There is the triumph of the diplomatist, who, in respect of his dealings with state questions, can lay his hand upon his heart, and affirm that he never misled his superiors, ... never wrote a line which he did not believe to be true. All these triumphs we doubt not will be yet achieved by Sir Bartle Frere, if only the fatigue caused by his ‘troubles and journeying’ does not suggest an early return to Europe.”
Would Sir Bartle Frere be supported by the Home Government? and would Lord Chelmsford be upheld by his military superiors in England? Such were the questions perpetually asked in the colony, to which there seemed no full and sufficient answer. True, both had received messages of sympathy and confidence; but these were sent palpably on the spur of the moment, and long before all the facts of the case had been brought to light; and, on the other hand, Sir Bartle Frere had received a very severe rebuke in the despatches mentioned in Chapter XII. Still the tide of events was permitted to flow on, and many doubted the reality of the condemnation.
From the time of the disaster at Isandhlwana, prophecies were current that Lord Chelmsford would be recalled, and as misfortune pursued our arms the prophecies were renewed. Many were the conjectures as to who would be sent to replace Lord Chelmsford should he be recalled, and a general idea was prevalent that the sprightly Sir Garnet Wolseley and his “brilliant staff” would once more grace the shores of Natal. The despatch announcing his approach reached the colony in the middle of June, and the telegram to Lord Chelmsford announcing his appointment ran as follows: “Her Majesty’s Government have determined to send out Sir Garnet Wolseley as Administrator in that part of South-Eastern Africa in the neighbourhood of the seat of war, with plenary powers, both civil and military. Sir Bartle Frere, instructed accordingly by Colonial Office. The appointment of a senior officer is not intended as a censure on yourself, but you will, as in ordinary course of service, submit and subordinate your plans to his control. He leaves this country by next mail” (sent viâ St. Vincent, 29th May, 1879).
Sir Garnet Wolseley landed at Durban on the 28th June, and proceeded direct to Pietermaritzburg, where he was the same day sworn in as Governor of Natal. Certainly Sir Garnet did not let the grass grow under his feet. On Sunday, the 29th, he telegraphed to Colonel Walker at Fort Pearson: “Send back Zulu messengers immediately to the king with following message from me: ‘If the king wants peace he must send Umnyamana, Umfanawendhela, and Vumandaba to General Crealock’s column, where I will depute an officer of rank to hear what the king has to say. I alone have power to make peace. All the other Generals are under my orders.’ Explain to the messengers who I am. They are to tell the king, and remind him that I was here as Governor before, and had many communications with him then.”—(P. P. [C. 2454] p. 149).
The message from Cetshwayo was delivered by two Zulu messengers at the Lower Tugela, on June 25th, to Mr. Fynney, Administrator and Border Agent.
“We are sent by the king straight to you. We were ordered not to go to the troop at the Umlatazi, as other messengers (Sintwangu) will go there.... The king asks you to speak to the great white Chief with the Upper Column, and ask to stay the advance of the troops till he (the king) can hear plainly what he has done, what great sin he has committed. If he ever killed a white man or white woman, or ever took cattle from a white man before the war? Did he ever walk over the words spoken at the Umlambongwenya Kraal by Somtseu? (Sir T. Shepstone). The king wished us to say if he is to be destroyed he could die happy if he knew first really what wrong he had done. The king begs you will speak to the great white Chief with the Upper Column to stay a further advance till chosen representatives from both sides can meet and hear really the cause of the war, and what wrong he has done. The king does not ask for favour if it is proved he has been wrong. He wants to hear, and he wishes the troops not to advance till he can hear; for if they do he cannot help fighting, as there will be nothing left but to try and push aside a tree if falling upon him.”
“This is our message from the king to you, and he ordered us to tell you that it is from himself; even the indunas do not know he has sent it” (ibid. p. 154).
On the same day (29th) Sir Garnet sent the following order to Captain McLeod: “Make arrangements at once, with Swazis, for massing north of Pongolo River, with view to invading Zululand. Spread abroad news that the invasion will take place immediately, but do not let them cross river without my orders. When they are ready to cross let me know, and I will send you further instructions. Impress urgently upon them that women and children must not be murdered, but promise them all cattle they take. This promise to be made as public as possible. I am now High Commissioner, with full powers to decide all terms of peace. All reports must be sent to me, care of General Clifford, ’Maritzburg” (ibid. p. 150).
The object of this message was “to establish a standing menace, and to bring formidable pressure to bear in that quarter upon the Zulus.”
The barbarity of the Swazis in warfare, and the keen delight with which they would have found themselves let loose upon their hereditary enemies the Zulus, whose army was either scattered or destroyed, was a well-known fact, and many wondered that such a course should be proposed.
Captain McLeod, a hardy soldier and brave man, had been for many months in about as unenviable a position as can well be imagined—in an unsettled border district in war time, threatened both by Boers and Zulus. He had been posted at Derby, to guide and control the movements of our ally the Swazi king, who, it was imagined, would be stanch to us or not, according to the fortunes of the Zulu war.
Captain McLeod knew the Swazis well, and how little chance there would be of keeping them under control if once let loose upon the helpless Zulu people; he therefore begged that they might be used only as a last resource.
With the view of still further spreading alarm through the Zulu country, Sir Garnet sent a message to the Amatongas that he might “possibly ascend the Maputa River with a force and use their territory as a base of operations against the Zulus from the north” (ibid. p. 149).
On the 30th, after a long conference with General Clifford and Commissary-General Strickland, Sir Garnet Wolseley had an interview with about seventy Natal native chiefs, who had been assembled at his request, and addressed them, through an interpreter, to the effect that the great English Queen had sent him to carry on the war against Cetshwayo, and to thank them for what they had already done. That the chiefs need have no fear but that the Queen would send as many armies as are necessary, if the troops sent were not sufficient. “They may depend upon it, and the past history of our nation is a guarantee thereof, that when we give a promise we will perform it. Our war is not against the Zulu people, but against Ketshwayo, who has broken all his promises. We have no wish to rob the Zulu people of their property or their land; but tell the chiefs this, that I say this war is going to be finished by us, and finished in a satisfactory manner. The Queen is most anxious that the war in Natal should be finished.” Then (as there was a scarcity of grass for draught-oxen) Sir Garnet requested the chiefs to furnish a certain number (2000) of their young men to carry provisions for the troops; the men to carry their arms whilst so employed, and to be paid and fed by him.
Once more, then, we hear the words: “Our war is not against the Zulu people!”
These “carriers” were taken from the Tugela Valley, which had lately suffered from the Zulu raid, and where many of the men had belonged to the native levies raised for the defence of the border; they naturally did not appreciate an employment which removed them from the protection of their families, and which was at variance with their customs[175] and prejudices.
There was not much work for these “carriers” after all; they were assembled at the Lower Tugela, and marched up to Fort Chelmsford, each man with a fifty-pound mealie-bag on his head.[176] Their commander, Major Schwabe, left the loads there, and took the men on to Port Durnford, where they were employed as required. Having, after some time, received their pay, the “carriers” quietly walked off to their homes.
The Commander-in-Chief remained but two days in Pietermaritzburg, returning to Durban on the 1st of July. The same evening he embarked on board H.M.S. Shah, intending to land at Port Durnford, and thus reach the scene of action. For once in his life Sir Garnet’s good fortune deserted him; the heavy surf on the beach prevented his landing, and the Shah brought him back to Durban. Here he received the news of the battle of Ulundi, telegraphed to him by Mr. Archibald Forbes.
No one quite knew what Lord Chelmsford was about, but everyone understood that he would try and end the war before he was superseded; and the general feeling in the colony was certainly one of hope that “poor Lord Chelmsford” might get a chance, win a battle, and have his bonfire in the enemy’s city of straw. Some few, indeed, argued that as Lord Chelmsford could not possibly, in the time left him, settle the Zulu question by the sword, it might occur to him at last to pay some attention to the hard-pressed Zulu monarch’s repeated messages imploring peace, and propose some conditions possible for Cetshwayo to accept and fulfil. Without further bloodshed an honourable peace might thus have been concluded before Sir Garnet Wolseley could step upon the scene.
We left the 1st Division at the Umlalazi River, close to the landing-place, Port Durnford. There the force remained, General Crealock occupied in receiving the submission of the neighbouring Zulus, who were flocking in from every direction.
But whilst Lord Chelmsford, on his approach to Ulundi, was inquiring, “Where is Crealock?” Crealock was quietly established near the coast, his military activity being displayed in the burning of Empangeni and other kraals north of the Umlatuzi River. As the Zulus all round were coming in, and no “impi” was even heard of, the object of this exhibition of force seems a little doubtful. As was remarked by The Cape Times: “Why the British soldier was ordered to destroy the shelter, and, with the shelter, the store of grain food of some thousands of poor women and children whose husbands and fathers were making their submission, we can no more understand than we can comprehend the strategy by which a large British force was held back for months at the edge of the enemy’s country, while commissariat supplies were accumulating sufficient to support a long campaign, the whole work before them being to march a hundred miles, and with one fight close up the war. If they were beaten they could fall back on the base; but with caution and generalship defeat was out of the question.” However, Major-General Crealock must have the credit of quieting the eastern portion of Zululand before the termination of the war. From his despatches of the 5th July we gather that the “district people are all wanting to come in,” that he was “sending back the people to their districts; difficulty of feeding them would be great.” His division paraded under arms to receive the “official submission” of “Mabilwana, Manyingo, and other chiefs,” who, with some 250 men, double that number of women and children, and their cattle, etc., had come in—these people belonging to the coast district, but were not strictly speaking warriors, or necessarily belonging to the Zulu army; nor could their submission be looked upon as any desertion of their king by the fighting-men of the nation. They were told that the General accepted their submission, and should look to them in future to keep peace in that district. If any Zulus were found in arms, their chief or headman would suffer; but, if they behaved themselves well, he would give them back their cattle and his protection. The men then received passes (or tickets) and were permitted to return to their districts.[177]
Sir Garnet Wolseley crossed the Tugela with his staff and escort on July 6th, and proceeded to the head-quarters of the 1st Division, near Port Durnford, which he reached on the 7th. He at once set to work “to reduce the excessive rate of expenditure which has so far been maintained in connection with this war,” and “arranged with the Commodore to embark the Naval Brigade at the earliest opportunity,” and also “dispensed with the services of some of the colonial troops.” Reinforcements of all kinds were stopped, including a fine battalion of Marine Infantry and strong detachment of Marine Artillery, just arrived at the Cape in H.M.S. Jumna.
On July 10th, Sir Garnet also put on one side “the plan of a Swazi invasion.” (P. P. [C. 2454] p. 163.) All the chiefs up to St. Lucia Bay tendered their submission, and sent in their arms.
Sir Garnet Wolseley and Lord Chelmsford met at St. Paul’s on the 15th July, the latter arriving with Brigadier-General Wood’s Flying Column. This Sir Garnet inspected on the following day, taking the opportunity of decorating Major Chard, R.E., with the Victoria Cross, awarded him for his gallantry at Rorke’s Drift.
Lord Chelmsford left St. Paul’s on the 17th, on his way home. His “brilliant victory” had turned the tide of popular favour somewhat in his direction, and he found that (as he said) “nothing succeeds like success.”
In Durban he was accorded a reception which must have been highly gratifying to his feelings. One of his last remarks in Natal, in reply to a speech made as he was about to embark, was to the following effect: “I think I may say confidently that we have now seen the beginning of the end of this campaign, and any success which has attended my efforts, I feel, is due to the prayers of the people, and the kindly ordinations of Divine Providence; for I am one of those who believe firmly and implicitly in the efficacy of prayer and in the intervention of Providence.”
In this comfortable frame of mind Lord Chelmsford passes from the scene.
Sir Garnet Wolseley completed the chain of forts across Zululand, commencing with St. Paul’s, an English mission station on the coast road a little north of where it crosses the Umlatusi. Fifteen miles west of this is Kwamagwasa. Twenty miles a little south of west lies Fort Evelyn, on the road from Rorke’s Drift to Ulundi. Fort Marshall about twenty miles west-south-west of Fort Evelyn, Fort Newdigate, twelve miles north-west of Fort Evelyn, and a fort on Itelezi Hill completes the chain to the Blood River. Some of these forts were constructed on the upward march of the 2nd Division and Flying Column, to keep open their communications. In addition to these, Fort Cambridge was built near where the road from Conference Hill crosses the White Umvolosi; and a little later an entrenched post (Fort George) was thrown up near Enhlongana mission station, thus thoroughly, by these detached posts, commanding the country.
Patrols were pushed out in various directions, by one of which the two guns lost at Isandhlwana were found between Ulundi and Maizekanye. They had not been spiked, but the Zulus had screwed rifle-nipples into the vents, and had also apparently tried to load the guns by ramming home shells, but without cartridges.
The Cavalry Brigade was broken up, and a fresh disposition of the troops made. Sir Garnet visited various posts, interviewing the Zulu chiefs who had surrendered themselves. Some of the most important, however, of those who came in, and were supposed to have submitted and deserted their king, had, in point of fact, no such intention, appearing merely to make their often and vainly repeated attempt at procuring “terms” for Cetshwayo and themselves. It had always been prophesied that the Zulu nation would desert their king. Before the war began, some of those who professed to understand the people best, declared that they would be thankful to throw off the yoke of one whom, it was alleged, they regarded with fear and hatred, and would side with the English as soon as the latter crossed their border.
The fallacy of this idea was discovered to our cost.
It was then asserted that the Zulu army had given a temporary strength to the authority of their king, which would last until we had beaten his troops and proved our superiority, and this assertion was used by those who insisted that no peace must be made, however earnestly desired by the Zulus, until we had beaten them and shown them that we were their masters.
After Ulundi, it was argued that the people would be glad to procure peace by giving up their king, whose unconditional submission, or capture, was announced by us to be the only possible conclusion to the war.
The Zulus had ceased to struggle with their powerful conquerors, and it now only remained to find Cetshwayo, who was said to be north of the Black Umvolosi River, with a very small following. A flying column, under Lieut.-Colonel Baker Russell, was sent out from Fort Newdigate early in August, but his patrols were not successful.
On August 14th, a cavalry force under Major Barrow, with Lord Gifford, started from Ulundi to try and find Cetshwayo, who had hitherto eluded all attempts to capture him. Day after day it was reported that the pursuers were close upon the fugitive: they had come to a kraal where he had slept the previous night, they reached another where he had been that very morning, and then they lost “the scent,” and for some time could trace him no farther. They tried in vain to persuade his people to betray him, but this “hated tyrant,” although beaten and powerless, flying through the land now in the possession of his conquerors, had still such a hold over the loyalty and affection of his people, that they were true to him in his adversity, and refused to give him up or to set his enemies on his track.
Severe measures were taken to procure by force the information which could not otherwise be obtained. Orders were given to one party of the pursuers that at each kraal they reached, if the inhabitants refused to speak, so many huts should be burnt, so many principal men and women taken prisoners, and all cattle confiscated. Many kraals were thus treated, and so many prisoners collected in this manner, that the number to be taken at each kraal had to be reduced from eight to four, then to two, and at last to one of each sex; thus proving how steadfast were the people generally in their loyalty to their king. On approaching some of these kraals, the headmen came out and offered the passes or papers promising protection, given them on surrendering their arms; but the unhappy people received another lesson on the text, “When we give a promise we will perform it,” and were told that their papers were worthless now; they must tell where the king was, or suffer like the rest. One of the officers concerned in carrying out these orders, exclaimed at the time with natural indignation: “I don’t care what may be said of the necessity of catching Cetshwayo; necessary or not, we are committing a crime in what we are doing now!”
These measures proving useless, five prisoners were flogged to make them speak—yet they held their peace. An interpreter, who accompanied Major Barrow’s party, writes: “I had been a long time in Zululand. I knew the people and their habits, and although I believed they would be true to their king, I never expected such devotion. Nothing would move them. Neither the loss of their cattle, the fear of death, or the offering of large bribes, would make them false to their king.”
For many days this work of trying to persuade or force the people to betray their king was continued, and, at last a woman was frightened into giving a clue, which resulted in taking prisoners three brothers, at whose kraal the king had slept the night before. “They were questioned,” says the interpreter, “but denied in the most solemn way that they knew anything about the king. We threatened to shoot them, but they said: ‘If you kill us we shall die innocently.’ This was about nine o’clock at night, a beautiful moonlight night, and the picture was rather an effective one. There were all our men sitting round at their fireplaces, our select tribunal facing the three men, who were calm and collected, whilst we, as a sort of inquisition, were trying to force them to divulge their secret. As a last resource we took one man and led him away blindfolded behind a bush, and then a rifle was fired off to make believe that he was shot. We then separated and blindfolded the remaining two, and said to one of them: ‘You saw your brother blindfolded and led away; we have shot him. Now we shall shoot you. You had better tell the truth.’ After a good deal of coaxing (?) one told us where the king had slept the night before, and which was about fifteen miles away, and also where he had seen him that very morning ... it was now eleven o’clock. Lord Gifford gave orders for our party to saddle up, which was smartly done, and we started off with the two brothers as guides. We left the one brother behind so as to keep on the screw, to make the two believe he had been shot. They took us over as ugly a piece of country as ever horse crossed, and at daybreak we surrounded the kraal. But disappointment was again in store for us, for our bird had flown about twelve hours previously.”
The direction he had taken being pointed out, the party followed until they got within four or five miles of a kraal, where the king had halted for the day. Lord Gifford sent off a note addressed to Captain Maurice, saying he was on the track and hoped for speedy capture; and, finding the kraal could not be approached without his being seen, seems to have made up his mind to wait till nightfall. It is perhaps fortunate that this arrangement was not carried out, as, in the darkness and hurry of a night attack, it is possible that we might have had the additional wrong laid upon us of having shot the Zulu king.
Amongst other patrols sent out to look for Cetshwayo was one under Major Marter, King’s Dragoon Guards, consisting of one squadron Dragoons, ten men Mounted Infantry and Lonsdale’s Horse, and one company Natal Native Contingent, their orders being to get on the king’s track and capture him, if possible, and to reconnoitre the Ngome Forest, and report if it could be traversed.
This force started on the 27th August, Major Marter sending two natives on in the direction of the Ngome to impress upon the people that until the king was captured they could not have rest, as troops would be constantly on the move amongst them, and require supplies, etc., and to suggest it would be to their advantage to give him some hint or sign about the king. He had found the natives friendly, but they said frankly that if they knew the king to be close by they would not tell him; he, therefore, remembering the language of symbols was pleasant to the native mind, endeavoured, by indirect means, to obtain the information he sought. Having got over about twenty-four miles of rough country, the little column halted on the summit of the Inenge Mountain, and, starting at daylight next morning, had crossed the Ibuluwane River about ten o’clock, when a Zulu came from the hill in front, sent by a headman to whom the scouts had been, and began to talk on indifferent subjects, not appearing to wish to speak about the king. After some time he casually remarked: “I have heard the wind blow from this side to-day,” pointing to the Ngome Forest, “but you should take that road until you come to Nisaka’s kraal,” showing a track leading upwards and along the side of the range.
About half an hour afterwards a native brought a note addressed to Captain Maurice. As this officer was out in another direction on the same service, Major Marter opened and read it. It was from Lord Gifford, who said he was on the track again and hoped for a speedy capture of the king, but gave no information as to where either the king or Lord Gifford were. Sending the man on in Captain Maurice’s direction, Major Marter proceeded to Nisaka’s kraal, some distance up the mountain. After some talk a suggestion of guides was made to Nisaka, who said they had better go to his brother’s kraal on top of the mountain, and called two men to go as guides. On reaching this kraal the guides made signs for the party to halt where trees hid them from being seen from below, and then took Major Marter on to the edge of the precipice, crawling along on hands and knees; they then stopped, and told him to go to a bush a little farther on and look down. He did so, and saw a kraal in an open space about 2000 feet below, in a basin, three sides of which were precipitous and covered with dense forest. He considered it would be useless to approach the kraal from the open side, as one minute’s warning would enable the king to escape to the nearest point of the forest; and therefore decided to venture down the side of the mountain under cover of the forest, feeling that the importance of the capture would warrant the risk.
Having rejoined his men, Major Marter ordered the natives to take off their uniform, and, with their arms and ammunition only, pass down the precipitous mountain to the lower edge of the forest nearest to the kraal, and remain concealed till the cavalry were seen coming from the forest on the other side; they were then to rush out towards the open side of the kraal and surround it. The cavalry left led horses, pack-animals, and every article which could make a noise or impede their progress, and followed Major Marter, leading their horses down the descent in single file. They left the upper part of the mountain at 1.45 P.M., and, after a scramble over rocks and watercourses, floundering in bogs, and hampered everywhere by trees and gigantic creepers, reached the foot about three o’clock, having lost two horses killed in the descent, and one man having his arm badly hurt. In a little dell they mounted, and at a gallop dashed out—one troop to the right, one to the left, the irregulars straight to the front—over boulders, through high grass and every impediment, up to the kraal; the natives reaching it at the same moment.
Seeing that the men in the kraal were armed with guns as well as assegais, Major Marter desired his interpreter to call out that if any resistance were offered he would shoot down every one and burn the kraal; and then dismounting, with a few of his men, he entered the enclosure, which was strongly stockaded. A chief—Umkosana—met him, and was asked where the king was; after some delay, seeing it was a hopeless case, he pointed out a hut on the farther side of the enclosure. Major Marter called on the king to come out, but he insisted the officer should go in to him. A threat of setting fire to the hut was then made, when the king asked the rank of the officer, and, after some further parley, came out and stood erect and quite the king, looking at Major Marter, saying: “You would not have taken me, but I never thought troops could come down the mountain through the forest.”
Besides the Chief Umkosana, there were with Cetshwayo seven men and a lad, five women and a girl, of his personal attendants.
There were twenty guns in the kraal, four of them rifles that had belonged to the 24th Regiment, much ammunition, some belts of the 24th, and many assegais, one of which—the king’s—was sent by Sir Garnet Wolseley to the Queen.
Taking the most open line of country, the party set out for Ulundi, Major Marter taking personal charge of the king, who was in good health, and showing no signs of over-fatigue.
On the evening of the second day three men and a woman sprang suddenly into the thick bush through which they were passing and tried to escape; but two of the men were shot. They had been repeatedly warned that anyone trying to escape would be shot.
On the morning of the 31st August, Major Marter safely reached the camp at Ulundi with Cetshwayo; who is described by his captor as “a noble specimen of a man, without any bad expression, and the king all over in appearance and manner.”
Sir Garnet Wolseley did not receive the fallen king himself, or accord him any of the signs of respect to which he was entitled, and which at least generosity demanded. That this was deeply felt is apparent from the words of an eye-witness, the interpreter attached to Major Barrow’s force. “Cetywayo,” he says, “who appreciates nicely the courtesies due to rank—as those who knew him tell me—felt this keenly. Sir Garnet Wolseley did not see him at all, and Mr. John Shepstone only had an interview with him to tell him that he would leave under the charge of Major Poole, R.A., for—no one knew where. The instructions to the Major were, on leaving Ulundi, to proceed to Pietermaritzburg viâ Rorke’s Drift, but the camp had not been left many miles behind before a messenger to the Major from the General gave Port Durnford as the port of embarkation.
“Cetshwayo spent less than three hours amidst the ruins of Ulundi, and when he left them he was not aware of his destination. His hope was that he was going to Pietermaritzburg.... This he believed was where he was going until he came to Kwamagwasa, and he said, ‘This is not the way to the Tugela.’ He grew moody after this, and used to moan, ‘It was better to be killed than sent over the sea.’”
The party reached Port Durnford on the 4th September, and was immediately embarked for Cape Town. There the king met with a fitting reception, and was conveyed to the castle, where he remained under strict surveillance in the custody of Colonel Hassard, C.B., R.E., Commandant at Cape Town.
One peculiarity regarding the treatment of Cetshwayo may be illustrated by the following personal anecdote:
A son and daughter of the Bishop of Natal, on their way to England, called at Cape Town on board a steamer at the time of the king’s arrival. They asked permission to see him, feeling that if anything could be a solace to the captive it would be an interview with members of a family which he knew had kindly feelings towards him.[178] This request was refused by Sir Bertie Frere, who regretted that he could not “at present give anyone permission to visit Cetewayo,” and said that “all intercourse with him must be regulated by the orders of the General Commanding H. M. Forces in the Field, to whom all applications to communicate with the prisoner should be referred.” After this communication, it was rather surprising to find that several of the passengers on board the mail-steamer, leaving the Cape the next day, had not only seen the king, but had found no difficulty in so doing.[179]