South Africa and the Transvaal War (Vol. 1-8). Louis Creswicke
went to the districts between the Orange and the Vaal Rivers—the district now known as the Orange Free State; others went into the country north of the Vaal River—the district now called the Transvaal; while others again went beyond the mountains to the district now named Natal. Here the Boer hoped to lead a new and a peaceful life, to encamp himself by some river course with his kraal for his sheep and his goats, the wide veldt for his carpet, and the blue dome of heaven or the canvas of his waggon for his untaxed roof. But his hopes were of short duration. The poor trekker—to use the vulgar phrase—had fallen out of the frying-pan into the fire. He had fled from the "British tyrant" only to encounter the Matabele Zulu savage. A terrible feud between the Bantu tribes was then causing much violence and blood-spilling, and the Zulu chief Moselekalse, having driven the Bechuanas beyond the Limpopo, had established the kingdom of the Matabele. With this chief, the Boer Potgieter and a party of burghers, on exploration intent, came suddenly into collision. Some of the Boers fled, the rest were promptly massacred. Those who remained alive made plans for self-defence. They lashed their waggons together to form a laager, and within it placed their women and children in partial safety. They then gave the warriors of Moselekalse a warm reception. The fight was maintained with great energy, the Zulus raining assegais over the waggons, while the Boers returned the compliment with their firearms. For these they had plenty of ammunition, and relays of guns were loaded and handed out gallantly by their women from within the laager. The Boers were victorious. Their aim was true, their pluck enormous, and after a sharp engagement the enemy were forced to retire. The savages were not vanquished, however, till terrible damage had been inflicted on the laager. Not content with the loss of many of their number, their sheep and their cattle, the plucky Boers started forth to punish the Matabele. Though few in number the burghers had the advantage of rifles, and succeeded in triumphing over the enemy and establishing themselves at Winburg, on the Vet River, to west of Harrismith. Later on the Boer farmers prepared to trek into Natal. They had prospected the place and found it entirely suited to their agricultural needs. Water and game were plentiful, and the whole country was fertile as a garden. Here they proposed to settle down. At Port Natal—now known by the name of Durban—was a party of Englishmen with whom the Boer explorers got on friendly terms. Both Englishmen and Boers were aware that the district was under Zulu sway, and it was decided that the chief, Dingaan, should be interviewed as to the approaching settlement of the Boers. The wily Zulu received his late enemies with every show of amity. He offered them refreshments, he made entertainments for their amusement. He finally agreed to cede such territory as was demanded by the Boers, provided they would secure to him certain cattle that had been stolen from him by a chief named Sikonyela. This the Boers agreed to do. They promptly travelled to see Sikonyela, and by threats, persuasions, or other mysterious means, extracted from him his ill-gotten gains. With the restored cattle the whole party of Boers then passed on their way from Drakensberg to Natal, full of the hope of finally making a settlement in a region so well suited to their pastoral instincts.
On again visiting the chief Dingaan, they were again received with honour. More festivities were arranged, and the date of the signing of the treaty was fixed for the 4th of February 1838.
The day came. The burghers arrived in the customary picturesqueness of woollen shirts, round hats, rough coats, and leathern veldt-broeks. Dingaan, amiable to excess, insisted that they should accompany him to his kraal, and there make a formal leave-taking. They were requested to leave their arms outside as an earnest of good faith, and, with some suspicion, they acceded. Their reception was splendid. Their health was drunk, the calabash passed round, and then—then, at a given signal from the chief, the Zulu hordes rushed in, fully armed and raging. In less time than it takes to describe the deed, the defenceless company of Boer farmers were slaughtered in cold blood—slaughtered before they could lift even a fist in self-defence! This horrible act of treachery served to do away at one fell swoop with the whole Boer party. Their bones, piled in a heap without the kraal, alone remained to tell to their kindred the tale of their undoing. The Zulus then proceeded in their tens of thousands to attack the nearest encampment, and cut down all who came in their way. Men—women—children—they spared none. The tidings being carried to the outer encampments of the Boers, they prepared themselves for the worst. They and their gallant vrows, who fought with as cool and obstinate a courage as their husbands, resisted the onslaught staunchly and successfully; but they paid dearly for their boldness. Their cattle were demolished, and their numbers were miserably thinned. Some thought of retiring from Natal; some contemplated revenge.
The pathetic state of the Boers attracted the sympathy of the Englishmen then in Natal, and they joined hands. Potgieter and Uys then commanded a force, and marched out on the enemy, but unfortunately fell into an ambush and were slain. Among the dead were the commandant Uys and his son.
Then the Englishmen, not to be behindhand in the fray, came to the rescue. Though there were but seventeen of them, they went out accompanied by 1500 Hottentots to meet the enemy. They followed the retreating savages beyond the Tugela, when suddenly they found themselves face to face with a fierce multitude of 70,000 Zulus. A conflict of the most terrible kind ensued: a conflict the more terrible because at the same time so heroic and so hopeless. From this appalling fight only four Englishmen escaped. These had succeeded in cutting their way through the enemy; the rest had been surrounded, and died fighting valiantly, and were almost buried among the dead bodies of their antagonists.
But this was not to be the finale of the Boer resistance to the wild Zulu. The above tragic engagement between the Englishmen and Zulus took place in April 1838. By December of the same year they had gathered themselves under the banner of their fine leader Andries Pretorius, a farmer from the district of Graff Reinet, and started forth again to meet the treacherous Dingaan, and pay him the debt they owed him.
A word or two of this Pretorius, after whom the now notable town of Pretoria was named. He was a born leader of men: he was a Cromwell in his way. At that date he was forty years of age, in the prime of strength and manhood. He was tall, and vigorous in mind as well as in body, calm and deliberating in counsel, but prompt and fiery in action. His descent is traced from one Johannes Pretorius, son of a clergyman at Goeree in South Holland, one of the very early settlers—a pious and worthy man, whose piety and worth had been inherited by several generations. Like the rest of his countrymen, Pretorius would brook no control. Though he was indubitably brave and immensely capable, he had the conservative instincts of his race. He shrunk from all innovations, he disliked everything connected with civilisation that might in the smallest degree interfere with the personal liberty of the individual. Freedom was as the very breath of his nostrils, and here was the great link between this really exceptional man and the body of his pastoral followers.
Pretorius, bent on the punishment of the treachery of Dingaan, set out, as has been said, with his expedition in the winter of 1838. This expedition has been named by the Boers the Win Commando. He had but three small pieces of cannon and a force composed of about four hundred white men and some native auxiliaries, yet the admirable tactics of Pretorius, the stout hearts and fine shooting of his followers, combined to bring about a victory over the Zulus. These were totally routed, and lost one third of their number.
The bravery and splendid persistence of the Boers filled all hearts with admiration, particularly when, after several well-directed attacks, they eventually succeeded in utterly breaking the Zulu power. Dingaan was dethroned and driven into exile, and his kraal and property burnt. A Christian burial service was read over the place where lay the bones of the assassinated Retief and his companions. The date, the 16th December 1838, on which the Zulu power met its first check from white men, is one ever remembered in Boer history. It goes by the name of Dingaan's Day, and is annually celebrated with great rejoicings throughout the Transvaal.
The Boers had now succeeded in inspiring wholesome awe in the heart of Panda, the new chieftain who occupied the place once held by his brother, the exiled Dingaan. He was not a person of bellicose disposition, and thinking discretion the better part of valour, was ready enough to swear to keep peace with his late enemies. In these circumstances the Boers with prayer and thanksgiving were able to pursue the promptings of their long-checked ambition. Soon several hundreds of waggons drawn by long teams of oxen came lumbering into Natal, for the purpose of establishing there the Republic, which had so often been planned out in imagination and never yet found any but an abortive existence. This ideal State