The Zulus and Matabele: Warrior Nations

by Glen Lyndon Dodds

  Dingane faced his first major test as king in early 1829 when Nqetho, the chief of the Qwabe, one of the most powerful clans in the kingdom, decided to go his own way. He sent messengers throughout Zululand calling upon members of his clan to revolt. Many warriors responded and began making their way to their homeland in south-eastern Zululand, in some instances stealing cattle en route. Nqetho and his followers crossed the Tugela into Natal and plundered the territory of the Cele before pressing on further down the coast.

  When about 40 miles northwest of Port Natal, Nqetho was caught by a force despatched by Dingane and both sides began preparing for battle. Fynn states, however, that neither side ‘felt disposed to attack the other.’ Instead, Dingane’s warriors merely rounded up some of the stolen cattle before setting off home. Nqetho continued down the coast and entered the Pondo kingdom, where he created trouble. Moreover, in September 1829 he murdered Lieutenant Farewell and two white companions there who were heading back to Port Natal from the eastern Cape with a wagonload of goods.

  Dingane reacted to the defection of Nqetho and the bulk of the Qwabe by executing a number of clan chiefs located across the Tugela. The most notable to die was Magaye of the Cele, a favourite of Shaka, who had been entrusted by the late king with control of the country south of the Tugela. Dingane believed that he should have done more to prevent Nqetho’s escape.

  The defection and its aftermath significantly weakened the Zulu state for it led to the alienation of the clans of the trans-Tugela region, territory that comprised well over one-third of the Zulu kingdom. To retain his hold over the area, Dingane proceeded to appoint Sothobe—Shaka’s former ambassador to the Cape—viceroy over the country south of the Tugela and in 1831 Sothobe virtually eliminated the Cele on Dingane’s behalf.

  By now Dingane had established a new capital, uMgungundlovu, to replace Dukuza. It was built in 1829 in the Zulu heartland of the Emakhosini Valley, approximately halfway between the Mhlatuze and White Mfolozi Rivers, and was located on a gently sloping hillside with streams on either side flowing towards the White Mfolozi. It was more than a mile in circumference and contained some 1,400 to 1,700 huts, likely capable of accommodating up to 7,000 people.

  At uMgungundlovu, Dingane soon killed several of his brothers. According to Jantshi kaNongila, he denounced them early one morning and had them clubbed to death with thick sticks. Jantshi also states that one of the brothers, Mpande, was about to be killed when Ndlela kaSompisi, Dingane’s chief councillor and commander-in-chief, interceded on his behalf, exclaiming: ‘Surely you are not going to kill Mpande, one who is just a simpleton.’ Mpande undoubtedly survived the purge and Ndlela, as Jantshi avers, evidently played a part in saving his life.

  Strained Relations

  Dingane wished to establish friendly relations with the British authorities in the Cape and thus in 1830 he appointed a white trader, John Cane, a rough, injudicious member of the Port Natal community, to act as his emissary and assigned several Zulus to accompany him, while an unwilling Jakot was charged with acting as the interpreter. On 21 November the delegation arrived at Grahamstown, headquarters of the eastern frontier garrison, but the mission was to prove a failure. Dingane had sent a gift of four elephant tusks for the governor but this was declined, whereupon Cane sold them and bought beads, cloths and blankets for Dingane before setting off for Port Natal without having received a reply to the king’s message. He arrived at the port on 10 March 1831. But instead of pressing on to uMgungundlovu to report and deliver the items (a task he entrusted to native carriers), he went hunting.

  Isaacs describes Jakot as a ‘perfidious and designing villain’ who now misrepresented Cane, with whom he was on bad terms. He alleged that the British authorities in Cape Colony, on the advice of Cane, were intent on attacking the Zulus. Isaacs’ account is corroborated by Fynn, who states that Jakot was ‘an atrocious character’ and ‘a dissimulating wretch.’

  Dingane reacted angrily and sent a punitive force, under a renowned warrior named Zulu kaNogandaya, against Cane. It struck on or about 18 April—Cane had fled upon receiving word of its approach—and destroyed his homestead and seized his cattle. Meanwhile, Isaacs and Fynn’s brother, William, had made their way to see Dingane. They arrived on 17 April and were told of his orders respecting Cane. Isaacs thus denounced Jakot as a trouble-maker and declared that there was no prospect of a British invasion—an assurance the king appeared to accept.

  Isaacs and his companion then set off for Port Natal. They arrived on 24 April, and were joined later that day by Henry Fynn (who had feared for their lives) and had temporarily abandoned the port with his followers after hearing rumours that hostile Zulu forces were approaching. In reality, Dingane’s wrath was only levelled at Cane.

  On 5 May the settlers received word from Dingane that he felt regret at having alarmed the community as a whole. Consequently, Isaacs reports that they rapidly ‘recovered confidence ... and began to believe [Dingane’s] expressions of sorrow.’ On the 14th, therefore, Henry Fynn set off for uMgungundlovu with his brother, accompanied by porters carrying muskets and other presents for Dingane. In exchange, the king gave the traders ivory. However, Henry Fynn’s disatisfaction with the quantity given angered the Zulu monarch. Moreover, although Fynn attempted to expose Jakot, the king’s advisers ‘were prejudiced from the effect of Jakot’s] report, and implicitly believed all he had asserted.’

  Fear thus returned to the settler community. So much so, that it was decided to abandon Natal. Isaacs sailed to Delagoa Bay. On the other hand, Henry Fynn’s party, which included his five Zulu wives and his many children, began moving south by land.

  Fynn and his dependents, when encamped near a river mouth in southern Natal, were attacked before daybreak in a half-hearted manner by a Zulu impi. Fynn relates that they were awoken by a sudden ‘violent noise and commotion, which proved to be the Zulus stabbing our people while we were all still asleep.’ In the confusion, he and other fortunate members of the party escaped into the surrounding bush where they rallied. Fynn, and eight others who did so, had guns, though these were in poor condition for the best weapons had been given to Dingane.

  After its initial assault, the impi divided into three groups. One remained stationary and shouted ‘There he is! There he is! Stab him!’, while the others respectively moved toward Fynn’s position from inland and along the beach. The former found the way barred by a steep precipice whereas the warriors on the seashore were checked by the defenders’ gunfire. The Zulus then withdrew, having lost thirteen of their number. Fynn’s losses were higher—five men, twenty women and fifteen children. Moreover, 150 head of cattle and two horses had been taken, together with cloth, beads and medicine. The 70 or so survivors eventually reached a mission station in the heart of Pondoland in early July where they received sanctuary.

  Cane had remained in Natal, albeit in hiding, and proceeded to contact Fynn, telling him that Dingane wished him and the other traders to return. Hence in September Fynn was back on the scene, having returned with a party of settlers from Grahamstown. Several months later, in late January 1832 Jakot was shot by one of the traders, John Ogle, who acted on Cane’s behalf after Dingane had granted the latter permission to execute the wayward Xhosa who had largely, if not entirely, sealed his own fate by stealing royal cattle.

  Dingane flexes his muscles

  In 1833 Dingane sent an impi southward against the Pondos and the Bhaca clan whose territory bordered Pondoland. A previous expedition in 1830 had proved a failure and history now repeated itself. The army was ordered to take an unfamiliar route to fall upon their opponents from an unexpected quarter, and travelled so far into the interior that ‘they became bewildered’ and suffered from hunger in depopulated country. According to Fynn, ‘Famine began to be felt to such a degree that their shields were consumed for food, and thousands of them perished in the trackless wilderness in which they found themselves entangled.’

 
In June the demoralised warriors arrived in the vicinity of Port Natal, homeward bound, ‘in the most wretched, dispirited and disorganised state’ (commented Ogle in the 10 October 1833 issue of the Grahamstown Joumal), only to be attacked by a force under Cane. A rumour had reached the port that the Zulus had killed absent white members of the community, whereas they had in fact attacked a party of Khoikhoi hunters. The majority of Cane’s force was black, consisting of natives associated with the settlers. According to Ogle, the Zulus did not resist and ‘a dreadful slaughter took place. I should think that 200 must have been killed. Many more shields and assegais than this number were brought in, but some, in all probability, were thrown away to facilitate escape.’

  Fearing retribution, the settlers hurriedly abandoned Port Natal once again and fled to Pondoland, until assured later in the year by Dingane (who was aware that the attack had been due to a misunderstanding) that it was safe to return.

  Dingane was not only involved with the whites in Natal. The Portuguese of Delagoa Bay also engaged his attention. In 1830 he sent a message to its newly appointed governor, Dionisio Antonio Ribeiro, who commanded a garrison of half a dozen Portuguese soldiers and some 100 or so native levies, demanding that he pay tribute just like subject black chiefs: failure to do so would result in a Zulu army descending on the settlement and installing a trader named Anselmo Nascimento in Ribeiro’s place. The governor was not overawed. He showed the envoys two cannonballs and declared that they were the best beads he had to offer. Dingane decided not to take up the challenge and instead sent some cattle as a peace offering.

  Harmonious relations prevailed during the next couple of years but then turned sour when Ribeiro apparently made the mistake of capturing Zulus for the slave trade. Hence, in July 1833, Dingane despatched an impi against Delagoa Bay. Several villages in its vicinity were burned and the warriors then withdrew after receiving a gift for Dingane from the governor. Within weeks, though, the impi was back and on 17 September it entered the settlement unopposed and sacked the fort. Neither the soldiers nor the traders were harmed. Ribeiro, however, had withdrawn to an island in the bay and, as he was their quarry, the Zulus settled down on the shore opposite his sanctuary. Three weeks later, the governor, intent on escape, boarded a boat but was blown ashore, taken captive back to Delagoa, and paraded before the assembled community. According to one of the Portuguese traders, the Zulu commander made a speech denouncing Ribeiro for treachery and tyranny, for having usurped the land of Dingane and of a Zulu tributary named Makasana, and for seizing Zulus for slavery. Ribeiro was then killed, perhaps by having his neck broken with a wrench to the head, a common method employed by Zulu executioners, whereupon a more cooperative governor was installed. The raid strengthened Dingane’s control over southern Mozambique and raised Zulu influence in the region to an unprecedented height.

  The Arrival of Allen Gardiner

  On 10 February 1835, an English missionary called Allen Gardiner arrived at uMgungundlovu intent on preaching the word of God to Dingane and his people. En route to Zululand he had met Fynn at Grahamstown—where the latter was now working as a colonial official, having left Port Natal the previous September—and from whom he received first-hand information about Dingane.

  Gardiner told the king that he had come to instruct the Zulus about the Bible, whereupon Dingane questioned him on such matters as God’s whereabouts and the Last Judgement. When Gardiner requested permission to build a mission station at the royal homestead, Dingane, who had heard unfavourable reports from Jakot of the activities of missionaries further south, replied that he would consult with his principal izinduna, Ndlela and Nzobo kaSobadli, the latter of whom is better known as Dambuza. Both were men upon whom the increasingly slothful king (he spent much of his time relaxing on a reed mat) had delegated more and more responsibility.

  For four weeks, much of which was spent in the capital, Gardiner awaited a reply. His mood was far from ebullient. A tense atmosphere prevailed. uMgungundlovu was a ‘place of death,’ states Lunguza kaMpukane, one of James Stuart’s informants. ‘One always lived in a state of dread and trembling at uMgungundlovu, and was only relieved when one went home.’ Like Shaka, Dingane had people killed for little or no reason. But whereas in Shaka’s day only the king could order an execution, now Ndlela and Nzobo were able to do so. The former was not harsh, but magnanimity was not one of Nzobo’s dominant attributes. It is reported that many hapless Zulus became all too well aware of this fact, especially if he had set his eye on their property, cattle or females. Of him, Gardiner wrote that his ‘scowling profile’ reflected ‘too exactly ... a character for tyranny and insolence’, and more than once during these weeks Nzobo’s attitude was so openly hostile that the missionary feared for his life.

  On 7 March, Gardiner was finally summoned by Dingane to discuss the matter of the mission station after the court had moved to another homestead, emBelebeleni. During the proceedings Nzobo stated that the Zulus were not interested in hearing about the Bible. The only instruction they wished to receive was how to use muskets brought by traders. Ndlela agreed and Gardiner was dismayed when the king stated in conclusion that he felt likewise. Hence Gardiner soon set off for Port Natal where, in late March, he established a mission station on a hill overlooking the bay.

  The following month the traders chose him to act as their intermediary with Dingane, for a simmering crisis and had almost come to the boil. Port Natal’s male white community had grown to some 30 or so traders and hunters, but the bulk of the population consisted, according to Gardiner, of about 2,500 black dependents and refugees. Some were survivors of Shaka’s raids. Others were fugitives from Zululand. In late 1834, for example, a regiment stationed on the Tugela to prevent flight into Natal had deserted to the port. Such losses could not be ignored. Port Natal, with its more relaxed lifestyle, was increasingly proving a magnet for discontented Zulus, thereby sapping the nation’s strength and helping to undermine the stability of the Zulu state.

  Nzobo favoured a bloody response—sending an impi against Port Natal to wipe out both the Europeans and associated blacks. Others concurred. But Dingane’s annoyance was tempered by his fondness for the objects that he received from the Europeans—objects that were becoming increasingly splendid as the whites tried to mollify him, aware that it was vital to retain his goodwill.

  Consequently, in April Gardiner set off to see Dingane to report that henceforth all fugitives from Zululand would be returned if he would guarantee the safety of Natal’s European and native residents. Gardiner was also armed with a variety of gifts, including a telescope and a portrait of William IV. Upon crossing the Tugela, in early May he was conducted to a military homestead where Dingane was then resident and met with a positive response. The king was delighted with the proposed treaty, while Nzobo declared that he was also glad and that Gardiner was a good man who could be trusted. Moreover, much to his joy, Gardiner was now granted permission to establish a mission in Zululand.

  Later in the month, after returning to Port Natal, Gardiner found himself charged with the unpleasant task of returning several fugitives to Zululand, including a woman of high rank alleged to have committed adultery, where they were to be put to death. As a result, he gained Dingane’s confidence and was told by the king, ‘Now we see you belong to the Zulus.’

  But some of the traders soon broke the treaty by helping Zulus to desert to Natal. A number of women, for instance, were smuggled out in wagons. Dingane responded by halting all trade with Port Natal. Moreover, at a further meeting with Gardiner in July, the king granted the missionary Natal, declaring, ‘you must be the chief over all the people there.’ Anyone who wished to trade with the Zulus was obliged to obtain Gardiner’s clearance.

  By this time the Port Natal community had decided to rename their burgeoning settlement Durban, in honour of the Governor of Cape Colony, Sir Benjamin D’Urban. Gardiner accepted Dingane’s grant, subject to the approval of D’Urban
, whom he proceeded to meet in December. The governor, in response, sent a letter and gifts to Dingane in the care of a Jewish merchant bound for Durban and Zululand. Among other things, the letter stated that on behalf of the King of England, D’Urban was going to send an officer to administer the port and to ‘communicate with [Dingane] upon all matters concerning the people of Natal’ in Gardiner’s stead.

  For his part, Gardiner set sail for England. He did so bearing a despatch from the governor urging the British government to occupy Durban. Upon arriving in February 1836, he duly presented the document. Furthermore, he begged the Church Missionary Society to provide him with assistance in preaching to the Zulus. His stay in England proved lengthy and he did not arrive back in Natal, where he was to devote his time to missionary work, until May 1837.

  By this date Dingane was anxious to procure firearms, whose value as weapons of war he had long realised. Indeed, he had already acquired some guns from traders at the port, and others were supplied via Delagoa Bay. But more recently he had decreed that henceforth firearms would be demanded from whites in return for the privilege of hunting and trading in Zululand. The value of the weapons, however, was restricted by the Zulus’ lack of training and because many of the guns were unusable. An article in the South African Commercial Advertiser of 21 January 1837 quotes one white trader as commenting that ‘the traders trading with Dingane in guns and powder were becoming rich’ and that they had ‘hit on a happy expedient of cheating the chief’ for, prior to delivery, they removed ‘either the mainspring out of the lock, or some screw’, thereby rendering the guns useless. Dingane, had, though, ‘at last discovered the roguery.’

  The Great Trek