Orange Free State, consequently being so much higher and open, makes the winter much colder. From this elevation, and looking back upon Natal, a more lovely or extensive landscape can scarcely be imagined. To the right and left huge rocks stand out on the rugged summits in those grotesque forms from which descend perpendicular cliffs and deep kloofs clothed in subtropical vegetation, between which long spurs of the mountain are thrown out, terminating in rolling plains and beyond lofty hills and deep valleys. Far away, on the right, continues the Drakensberg, with its lofty and noble peaks rearing their heads far into the clouds that hang on their summits in loving embrace, until they are lost to view in the pale tints of the evening sky, leaving the central view open to the sea, 120 miles to the coast, where the bluff at Port Durban can be distinguished overlooking the intervening country with its plains and hills.
It was here, at the Bushman’s Pass, 9000 feet high, that the sad affair with Langalibalele’s tribe occurred. A number of them had been at the diamond-fields, where they had procured guns for wages. No Kaffirs in Natal are allowed to have guns, except a few hundred, by special licence, and the sale of gunpowder is all in the hands of the Government, white men even not being allowed more than ten pounds a year, and they cannot import guns without a special permission from the Government.
The entire immunity of Natal, from its first annexation, from Kaffir wars, which have caused so much waste of blood and treasure at the Cape, is owing chiefly to this wise law, which is so rigidly enforced that a number of guns were seized which had been made in Natal, at a cost of 2 pounds 10 shillings each. The barrels were gas-pipes, whilst good muskets could have been imported at 5 shillings each. All the Cape wars have been caused by the omission of this simple precaution.
The Natal border Zulu chief Langalibalele had been a rebel from his youth upwards. He rebelled against Panda, the Zulu king, and barely escaped into Natal with a few followers, leaving all his cattle behind. Shortly after he returned, killed the keepers of the cattle, and took them into Natal. There he was given about the best “location” on the beautiful spot here described in the Drakensberg. Many refugees from Zululand joined him, and his tribe became powerful. But they were always restless and contumacious. At last about 250 of them brought back from the diamond-fields the guns which they had received for wages, and when called upon to give them up refused to do so, or even—as subsequently allowed—to send them in to be registered, and they insulted the messengers sent by the Government. A force was consequently marched into the location, and as the whole tribe was about to depart into the Zulu country with the cattle, a proceeding which was against all Kaffir law, the passes of the mountains were occupied, to prevent their escape, by volunteers, and the soldiers were kept below. To the Bushman’s Pass a force of about twenty of the Natal carbineers (cavalry) was sent up. The pass, 9000 feet high, was so steep that they could not ride, but had to lead their horses, in doing which Colonel Durnford (killed at Isandhlwana), who commanded the party, was pulled down a rock by his horse, and his shoulder dislocated. It was pulled in at once, but being a delicate man the pain and fatigue overcame him entirely, and he was obliged to remain behind, while the rest went on and bivouacked on the pass. During the night, young Robert Erskine, son of the Colonial Secretary, went down twice to his assistance, taking brandy, etc., and eventually he got him on to his horse and up to his men. Early next morning a part of the tribe, with the cattle, came up, the rest having passed before, and occupied the rocks around, being armed with guns.
Unfortunately, the Governor of Natal had got it into his head that he was a born soldier, and had accompanied the soldiers who were below. As the captain of the volunteers knew no drill, and could not move the men, the Governor—who was weakly allowed by the colonel in command to dictate—sent Major Durnford, an engineer—who knew no more than the captain about manoeuvring men—in command, and to this folly added a mad injunction “not to fire first!” in obedience to which Durnford allowed the tribe to keep coming up. Erskine, who had been private secretary to the former governor, and who knew the tribe well, having lived among them sketching, and having had twenty-five of them working for him at the diamond-fields, offered to go down the pass and remonstrate with the chiefs who were below. Major Durnford would not allow it, saying that he had saved his life, and it was certain death. The tribe kept coming up and lining the rocks, calling out, “You’ll never see your mother again! That’s my horse! That’s my saddle!” etc.
At last a cowardly fellow, a drill-sergeant, formerly in the Cape Mounted Rifles, who had been allowed to join the force as dry-nurse, persuaded the men that they would all be killed, and they sent their captain to Durnford to say so, and that as he would not allow them to fire they would not stay. On which Durnford called out, “Will nobody stand by me?” when Erskine said, “I will, major,” and another, Bond, said so, as also did one more. Durnford then said, “If you will not stand by me you must go;” and not knowing the cavalry word, the drill-sergeant gave the word, “Fours right! right wheel! Walk! March!” As they filed past the rocks, the Zulu in command called, “Don’t fire until they have passed,” and they then fired and shot down the whole rear section, and the rest galloped off, except Durnford, who was drinking at the source of the Orange river. His bridle was seized by two Zulus, and one wounded him in the shoulder. Although one arm was disabled, with the other he shot them both, and escaped.
At the same time the Kaffir interpreter, who fought gallantly, was killed, and Erskine also, whose horse was shot down, was shot through the head and heart, in the source of the Orange river. One of the four, whose horse had been shot down, caught Erskine’s horse, which had got up again, and escaped on him for a space. The horse then fell dead, and two of the men dismounted and covered him, shooting some of the Zulus who were coming on. He caught Durnford’s spare horse running by, and after some delay and danger from a shower of bullets, succeeded in getting Erskine’s saddle on to the horse, and escaped. Durnford tried in vain to rally the men, and they went helter-skelter down the pass, the captain—afraid to ride down—being sledged down on his stern.
The bodies were allowed to remain there several days, although there was not a Zulu near, and then they were buried by Durnford under a large cairn, erected with rocks, interspersed with the beautiful heaths and flora growing around. Erskine’s body was found in the source itself of the Orange river. The people erected a handsome monument to their memory in the market-square at Maritzburg, and another to those who fell at Isandhlwana—about thirty. Thus, out of a troop of fifty, thirty-three of the Natal volunteer carbineers fell in these two affairs owing, on both occasions, to the grossest mismanagement. Ne sutor ultra crepidam!
The tribe was afterwards hunted for two months in these mountains by volunteers only, and captured with their chief, Langalibalele, who was sent to the Cape, and kept more comfortably than he ever was in his life, in a nice house and grounds, with entire freedom to move about, his only grievance being that he was not allowed more than three of his wives, the cause of this distressing privation being simply that the balance would not come. An absurd proposition was sent out by the Home Government lately that he should be allowed to return to Natal, but it was promptly quashed by that Government. Coelum non animum mutant qui trans mare currunt, as was proved in the case of Cetewayo’s restoration, “who had learnt and forgotten nothing.”
This, if it can be called one, is the only rebellion ever known, or likely to be known, in Natal, where the Kaffirs are thoroughly loyal. Shortly before this a little raid was made into Natal by one of Moshesh’s sons, when two natives were killed and some cattle lifted. A force was sent up, too late, and en route the Colonial Secretary and Secretary for Native Affairs, who were sitting in a waggon, were watching a tribe, when they diverted, and forming regularly into line their orator ran out, and running as they do up and down made an oration, “There’s the Government in the waggon! What’s the meaning of this? Why is this land invaded? Why are our people killed and our cattle stolen? Why were we not called out sooner? Was it that we are not trusted? Wow!! There sit under that waggon Langalibalele’s people! Who are they? Dogs! that we used to hunt down; and would again, if not prevented by the Government.”
Sir T. Shepstone did not even condescend to address them himself, but in a few words, through an
