Between the years 1852 and 1856 the history of Anglo-Dutch South Africa breaks up into four distinct streams. The Transvaal and South African Republic pursues its own course from 1852 onward, the Orange Free State from 1854, and Natal from 1856, in which year that district was separated from the Cape and constituted as a distinct colony. Between 1876 and 1880 the South African Republic and Natal are again brought into close relations with the march of events in Cape Colony. But before we trace the three last mentioned streams in their several courses it is well to return to the Cape, by far the largest and most populous of the four communities, and sketch in outline the chief events that mark the development of that Colony down to the memorable epoch of 1877-81.

These events group themselves into three divisions—the material progress of Cape Colony, the changes in the form of its government, and those wars with the Kafir tribes which, while they retarded its growth in population, steadily increased its area.

The departure of some eight or ten thousand Boers, the most discontented part of the population, in the years following 1835, not only removed an element which, excellent in other respects, was politically at once unrestful and old-fashioned, but left plenty of vacant space to be occupied by new immigrants from Europe. New immigrants, however, came slowly, because at that time the tide of British emigration was setting mainly to America, while German emigration had hardly begun. The Kafir wars had, moreover, given South Africa a bad name, and the settlers of 1820 (see above, p. 111) had suffered several years of hardship before prosperity came to them. However, between 1845 and 1850 four or five thousand British immigrants were brought in, with the aid of the government, and a little later a number of Germans who had served England in the German Legion during the Crimean War. Again, in 1858, more than two thousand German peasants were settled on the south coast in lands which had been previously held by Kafirs. These people made good colonists, and have now become merged in the British population, which began to predominate in the eastern province as the Dutch still does in the western. As the country filled there was a steady, though slow, progress in farming and in export trade. The merino sheep had been introduced in 1812 and 1820, and its wool had now become a source of wealth; so, too, had ostrich farming, which began about 1865 and developed rapidly after the introduction of artificial incubation in 1869. The finances, which had been in disorder, were set right, roads began to be made, churches and schools were established, and though the Kafir raids caused much loss of life and of cattle on the eastern border, the cost of these native wars, being chiefly borne by the home government, did not burden the colonial revenue. In 1859 the first railway was constructed, and by 1883 more than one thousand miles of railway were open for traffic. There were, however, no industries except stock-keeping and tillage until 1869-70, when the discovery of diamonds (of which more anon) brought a sudden rush of immigrants from Europe, stimulated trade so powerfully that the revenue of the Colony doubled within five years, and began that surprising development of mineral resources which has been the most striking feature of recent years.

With the growth of population, which had risen under British rule from about 26,000 Europeans in 1805 to 182,000 in 1865 and 237,000 in 1875, there came also changes in the form of government. At first the Governor was an autocrat, except so far as he was controlled by the fear that the colonists might appeal to the Colonial Office in London against him: and the administration was therefore wise or foolish, liberal or severe, according to the qualities of the individual Governor. Some serious mistakes were committed, and one Governor, Lord Charles Somerset, has left the reputation of arbitrary rule; but the officials sent out seem, on the whole, to have pursued a more judicious policy and shown more respect to local opinion than the representatives of the Dutch East India Company had (with one or two brilliant exceptions) done in the previous century. The blunders which preceded the Great Trek of 1836 were attributable rather to the home government than to its agents on the spot, and in the years that followed colonial feeling complained more often of Downing-street than it did of Government House at Cape Town. The irritation which from time to time broke out sprang chiefly from questions connected with the natives. Like all Europeans dwelling among inferior races, the mass of the colonists, English as well as Dutch, looked upon the native population as existing for their benefit, and resented the efforts which the home government made to secure for the blacks equal civil rights and adequate protection. Their wrath was specially kindled by the vehemence with which a few among the missionaries denounced any wrongs deemed to have been suffered by the natives within the Colony, and argued the case of the Kafir tribes who were from time to time in revolt. I do not attempt to apportion the blame in these disputes; but any one who has watched the relations of superior and inferior races in America or India or the Pacific islands will think it probable that many harsh and unjust things were done by the colonists, as every one who knows how zeal tends to mislead the judgment of well-intentioned men will think it no less probable that there was some exaggeration on the part of the philanthropic friends of the blacks, and that some groundless charges were brought against the colonists. The missionaries, especially those of the London Society, had a certain influence with the Colonial Office, and were supposed to have much more than they had. Thus from 1820 to about 1860 there was a perpetual struggle between the colonists and the missionaries, in which struggle the Governor tended to side with the colonists, whose public opinion he felt round him, while the Colonial Office leaned to the philanthropists, who could bring political pressure to bear through the House of Commons. Unfortunate as these bickerings were, they had at least the result of tending to unite the Dutch and English elements in the population, for on native questions there was little difference of attitude between those elements.

In 1834 a Legislative Council was created, consisting, however, of officials and of members nominated by the Governor, and not, as the colonists had petitioned, chosen by election. Twenty years later, when the population had greatly increased and the demand for representative institutions could no longer be resisted, a regular two-chambered legislature was set up, consisting of a Legislative Council and a House of Assembly, both elected on a wide franchise, with no distinction of race or colour, though of course the coloured voters were comparatively few, because the tribal Kafirs living under their chiefs were excluded, while of other blacks there was only a small proportion who held property even to the limited extent required for the suffrage. This legislature met for the first time in 1854. Four years previously an event had occurred which showed how desirable it was that constitutional means should be provided for the expression of the people's wishes. The home government had sent out a vessel carrying a number of convicts to be landed and kept in the Colony, where no convicts had been seen since the days of the Dutch Company. A strong and unanimous feeling arose at once against this scheme, which was regarded as likely to prove even more harmful in South Africa than it had proved in Australia, because there was at the Cape a large native population, among whom the escaped or released convict, possessing the knowledge and capacity of a white man, but unrestrained by any responsibility or sense of a character to lose, would be able to work untold mischief. The inhabitants of Cape Town and its neighbourhood held meetings of protest, sent remonstrances to England, and mutually pledged themselves to supply no food to the convict ship. This pledge they carried out, and during the five months that the convict ship lay in Simon's Bay, it was from the naval squadron there that she had to receive provisions. The Colonial Office at last yielded; and the people, while rejoiced at the success they had achieved, and at the heartiness with which Dutch and English had co-operated for a common object, were more than ever disposed to desire some control over their own affairs.

Although after 1854 the sole power of legislation was vested in the colonial Parliament, subject to the right of the British crown to disallow an act,—a right which is of course very rarely used,—the executive power still remained with the Governor and his council, who were appointed by the home government, and not responsible to the Cape legislature. It has, however, become a settled principle of British colonial policy to grant to each and every colony not only legislative power, but responsible executive government so soon as the white population of the Colony has become relatively large enough and settled enough to enable that kind of constitution to be properly worked. In 1872 the whites of Cape Colony had come to exceed 200,000, and the need for a change had been emphasized shortly before by a conflict of opinion between the Governor and the legislature as to the best means of setting right the finances of the Colony. Parliament having been dissolved, the new houses declared for responsible government, and the home government wisely assented to their wish. Accordingly, the "cabinet system" of Britain was established, the Governor's executive council being turned into a ministry responsible to the legislature, and the Governor himself becoming a sort of local constitutional sovereign on the model of the British crown, that is to say a sovereign who reigns but does not govern, the executive acts done in his name being done by the advice and on the responsibility of the ministry, who hold office at the pleasure of the legislature. Thus from 1872 onward the Colony has enjoyed complete self-government, and has prospered under it despite the antagonism which has frequently shown itself between the eastern and western provinces, an antagonism due partly to economic causes, partly to the predominance of the English element in the former and of the Dutch in the latter region. The working of the cabinet system has been even smoother than in most of the other British colonies; but while setting this to the credit of the good sense and moderation of the people, it must also be noted that the most exciting crises which have arisen in South Africa have lain outside the scope of the colonial ministry and legislature, being matters which have touched the two Dutch republics or the relations of British territories to foreign Powers. These matters, being international, belong to the British crown, and to its local representative, the Governor, in his capacity of High Commissioner for South Africa; and in that capacity he is not required to consult the Cape ministry and legislature, but acts under the directions of the Colonial Office in London.

The grant of cabinet government tended to stimulate political life among the Dutch farmers, hitherto the more backward part of the population, and in 1882 their wishes secured a reversal of the ordinance made sixty years before for the exclusive use of English in official documents and legal proceedings. Dutch was now placed on a level with English as an official language in Parliament and the law courts. But this assertion of Dutch sentiment was due to causes which will be better understood when we come to the events of 1880 and 1881.

Most of the peaceful growth which has been described would have been more rapid but for the frequent vexation of native wars. Twice under the rule of the Dutch Company and seven times under the British crown have there been sanguinary conflicts with the fierce Kafir tribes of the Kosa group, who dwell in the east of the Colony. On the north there had been only Hottentots, a weak nomad race, who soon vanished under the attacks of smallpox and the pressure of the whites. On the north-east the deserts of the Karroo lay between the colonists and the Kafirs who inhabited the plains of the Upper Orange and Vaal rivers. But on the east the country was comparatively well watered, and supported a large Kafir population full of courage and fighting spirit. Collisions between them and the whites were inevitable. The country they occupied was mostly rugged, and covered with a dense low wood, or rather scrub, traversed by narrow and winding tracks, which were of course familiar to them, and difficult for white troops. They had always the advantage in point of numbers, and though they were usually beaten and compelled to sue for peace, the obvious anxiety of the colonial government to conclude a peace emboldened them to fresh outbreaks. To civilized men, who know the enormous superiority of discipline and of firearms, it seems strange that these natives, who in the earlier wars had no firearms, should have so often renewed what we can see was a hopeless struggle. But it must be remembered that the natives, who saw only small white forces brought against them, and knew that the whole number of whites in the Colony was small, have never realized, and do not realize even to-day, the enormous reserve of the white population in Europe. Their minds cannot take in large numbers, cannot look far forward, cannot grasp large issues, and are swayed by sudden gusts of feeling which overcome all calculation of results. Accordingly, the Kafirs returned over and over again to the contest, while the colonial government, not wishing to extend its frontiers, and hating the expense of this unprofitable strife, never grappled with the problem in a large way, but tried on each occasion to do just enough to restore order for the time being. It would probably have been better to have spent once for all a large sum in a thorough conquest of the Kosas, planting strong forts here and there through their country, and organizing a regular gendarmerie. But until the annexation of Natal in 1843 placed British power on the other side of these turbulent tribes, the process of conquest might well seem interminable, for it was plain that as soon as one clan had been brought to submission troubles would break out with the next that lay beyond it, and fresh wars have to be undertaken to reduce each of these in its turn. Some allowance must therefore be made for the tendency of the government to take short views and do no more than was needed for the moment, especially as nearly every new war brought upon the Governor for the time being the displeasure of the Colonial Office, and brought upon the Colonial Office the censure of economists and philanthropists at home.

The theatre of these wars was the country along the south coast between Algoa Bay and the Kei River, and an important step forward was made when, after the wars of 1846-47 and 1851-53, the province of British Kaffraria, extending to the Kei River, was created, placed under imperial officials, and garrisoned by British regiments. Four years afterwards, in 1857, the Kafirs of this province, at the bidding of their chiefs, prompted by a wizard who professed to have received messages from the world of spirits, destroyed their cattle and their stores of grain, in the belief that the dead ancestors of the tribe would reappear and join them in driving out the white men, while herds of cattle would issue from the ground and crops would suddenly spring up and cover the soil. Many of the clans were already on the verge of famine when the promised day arrived, and when it had passed starvation began, and within a few months, despite the efforts of the colonial authorities to supply food, some 30,000 Kafirs perished of hunger or disease. This frightful catastrophe, which carried many thousands westward into Cape Colony in search of work, and left large tracts vacant, led to the establishment in those tracts of white settlers, and ultimately, in 1865, to the union of British Kaffraria with the Colony. It also so much weakened the Kosas that for the unprecedentedly long period of twenty years there was no Kafir war. In 1877 and 1880 some risings occurred which were suppressed with no great difficulty; and in 1894 the boundaries of the Colony, which had been advancing by a series of small annexations, were finally rounded off on the eastern side by the addition of the territory of the Pondos, which made it conterminous in that direction with the Colony of Natal.

To complete the chronicle of native wars, we ought now to turn to Natal, on whose borders there arose, in 1879, a conflict with the greatest native power—that of the Zulus—which the British had yet encountered. Before that year, however, a momentous change in British colonial policy had occurred, and I must go a little way back to describe the events which gave rise to it.

The reader will recollect that in 1852 and 1854 Britain had abjured all purpose of extending the boundaries of her dominion towards the interior by recognizing the independence of the two Dutch republics, which date their legal rise from the two conventions concluded in those years. She had done so quite honestly, desiring to avoid the expense and responsibility which further advances must entail, and with the wish of leaving the two new republics to work out their own salvation in their own way. For some years nothing occurred to create fresh difficulties. But in 1858 a war broke out between the Orange Free State and the Basuto chief Moshesh, who claimed land which the Free State farmers had occupied. The Free State commandos attacked him, and had penetrated Basutoland as far as the stronghold of Thaba Bosiyo, when they were obliged to return to protect their own farms from the roving bands of horsemen which Moshesh had skilfully detached to operate in their rear. Being hard pressed they appealed to the Governor of Cape Colony to mediate between them and Moshesh. Moshesh agreed, and a new frontier was settled by the Governor. However, in 1865 fresh troubles broke out, and there was again war between Moshesh and the Free State. The Governor of Cape Colony was again invoked, but his decision was not respected by the Basutos, whom Moshesh could not always control,—for they are much less submissive to their chiefs than are the Zulus,—and hostilities having recommenced after a brief interval of peace, the Free State made a supreme effort, and in 1868 was on the point of destroying the Basuto power, though it had never been able to capture Thaba Bosiyo, when Moshesh appealed to the High Commissioner to extend British protection to his people. Unwilling to see Basutoland annexed by the Free State, and fearing injury to the Colony from the dispersion of Basuto fugitives through it, the High Commissioner consented, and declared the Basutos British subjects. The Free State was suffered to retain a large tract of fertile land along the north bank of the Caledon River, which it had conquered; but it was mortified by seeing British authority established to the south of it, all the way from Natal to the borders of Cape Colony, and by the final extinction of the hopes which it had cherished of extending its territories to the sea and acquiring a harbour at the mouth of the St. John's River.

These events, which befell in 1869, mark the recommencement of British advance toward the interior. Still more momentous was another occurrence which belongs to the same year. In 1869 and 1870 a sudden rush began from all parts of South Africa to a small district between the Modder and the Vaal rivers (where the town of Kimberley now stands), in which diamonds had been discovered. Within a few months thousands of diggers from Europe and America, as well as from the surrounding countries, were at work here, and the region, hitherto neglected, became a prize of inestimable value. A question at once arose as to its ownership. The Orange Free State claimed it, but it was also claimed by a Griqua (half-breed) captain, named Nicholas Waterboer, son of old Andries Waterboer, and by a native Batlapin chief, while parts were claimed by the Transvaal Republic. The claims of the last-named state were disposed of by the decision of the Governor of Natal, who had been recognized as arbitrator by the Griquas, the Batlapin, and the President of the Republic. He awarded the tract in dispute to Waterboer, including in his award the part claimed by the Free State, which had refused arbitration so far as regarded the district lying south of the Vaal, holding that district to have been indubitably part of the old Orange River sovereignty, which was in 1854 turned into the Orange Free State. As Waterboer had before the award offered his territory to the British government, the country was forthwith erected into a Crown Colony under the name of Griqualand West. This was in 1871. The Free State, whose case had not been stated, much less argued, before the umpire, protested, and was after a time able to appeal to a judgment delivered by a British court, which found that Waterboer had never enjoyed any right to the territory. However, the new Colony had by this time been set up and the British flag displayed. The British government, without either admitting or denying the Free State title, declared that a district in which it was difficult to keep order amid a turbulent and shifting population ought to be under the control of a strong power, and offered the Free State a sum of ninety thousand pounds in settlement of whatever claim it might possess. The acceptance by the Free State in 1876 of this sum closed the controversy, though a sense of injustice continued to rankle in the breasts of some of the citizens of the Republic. Amicable relations have subsisted ever since between it and Cape Colony, and the control of the British government over the Basutos has secured for it peace in the quarter which was formerly most disturbed.

These two cases show how various are the causes and how mixed the motives which press a great power forward even against the wishes of its statesmen. The Basutos were declared British subjects partly out of a sympathetic wish to rescue and protect them, partly because policy required the acquisition of a country naturally strong and holding an important strategical position. Griqualand West, taken in the belief that Waterboer had a good title to it, was retained after this belief had been dispelled, partly perhaps because a population had crowded into it which consisted mainly of British subjects, and was not easily controllable by a small state, but mainly because colonial feeling refused to part with a region of such exceptional mineral wealth. And the retention of Griqualand West caused, before long, the acquisition of Bechuanaland, which in its turn naturally led to that northward extension of British influence which has carried the Union Jack to the shores of Lake Tanganyika. The wish to restrict responsibility, which had been so strong twenty years before, had now died out of the British public at home, and had grown feebler even in the minds of the statesmen whose business it was to find the money needed for these increasing charges on the imperial treasury; while the philanthropic interest in the native races, stimulated by the discoveries of Livingstone, now took the form not of proposing to leave them to themselves, but of desiring to protect them against the adventurers, whether of Boer or of English blood, whom it was found impossible to prevent from pressing forward into the wilderness.

It is remarkable that the change, as yet only an incipient change, in the public opinion of the English people, who now began to feel the desire not merely to retain but to expand their colonial dominion, should have become apparent just at the time when there occurred that discovery of diamonds which showed that this hitherto least progressive of the larger Colonies possessed unsuspected stores of wealth. The discovery brought a new stream of enterprising and ambitious men into the country, and fixed the attention of the world upon it. It was a turning point in South African history.

That change in the views of the British Government on which I have been commenting found at this moment a fresh expression in another quarter. In 1869 the Portuguese Government concluded a commercial treaty with the South African Republic, under which it seemed probable that a considerable trade might spring up between the Portuguese coast of the Indian Ocean and the interior. This called attention to the port of LourenÇo Marques, on the shore of Delagoa Bay, the best haven upon that coast. Great Britain claimed it under a cession which had been obtained from a native chief of the country by a British naval exploring expedition in 1822. Portugal, however, resisted the claim. In 1872 it was referred to the arbitration of Marshal MacMahon, then President of the French Republic, and in 1875 he awarded the territory in dispute to Portugal. Both cases were weak, and it is not easy to say which was the weaker, for, although the Portuguese had undoubtedly been first on the ground, their occupation, often disturbed by the native tribes, had been extremely precarious. The decision was a serious blow to British hopes, and has become increasingly serious with the further development of the country. Yet it was mitigated by a provision contained in the agreement for arbitration that the Power against whom the decision might go should have thereafter from the successful Power a right of preËmption as against any other state desiring to purchase the territory.[23] This provision is momentous as giving Britain the right to prevent not only the South African Republic, but any European power, from acquiring a point of the utmost importance both commercial and strategical. Rumours have often been circulated that Britain would gladly acquire by purchase the harbour of Delagoa Bay, but the sensitive patriotism of the Portuguese people is at present so strongly opposed to any sale of territory that no Portuguese ministry is likely to propose it.[24]

At the very time when the attempt to acquire Delagoa Bay revealed the new purposes which had begun to animate Great Britain, another scheme was suggested to the Colonial Office by the success which had lately attended its efforts in Canada. In 1867 the passing of the British North America Act drew the theretofore isolated provinces of the Dominion into a confederation, relieving the home government of some grave responsibilities, and giving to the whole country the advantages of common administration and legislation in matters of common concern. Lord Carnarvon, then colonial secretary, threw himself into the idea of similarly uniting the different Colonies and States of South Africa. It had been advocated by Sir George Grey, when Governor in 1858, and had even received the support of the Orange Free State, whose Volksraad passed a resolution favouring it in that year. Many considerations of practical convenience suggested this scheme, chief among them the desirability of having both a uniform policy in native affairs (the absence of which had recently caused trouble) and a common commercial policy and tariff system. Accordingly, in 1875 Lord Carnarvon addressed a despatch to the Governor of Cape Colony, recommending such a scheme as fit to be adopted by that Colony, which three years before had received responsible government, and Mr. J.A. Froude was sent out to press it upon the people. The choice did not prove a fortunate one, but even a more skilful emissary would probably have failed, for the moment was inopportune. The Cape people were not ready for so large and far-reaching a proposal. The Orange Free State was exasperated at the loss of Griqualand West. The Transvaal people, though, as we shall see presently, their republic was in sore straits, were averse to anything that could affect their independence. However, Sir Bartle Frere, the next Governor of the Cape, who went out in 1877, entered heartily into Lord Carnarvon's plan, which continued to be pressed till 1880, when it was rejected by the Cape Parliament, largely at the instance of envoys from the Transvaal Boers, who urged the Cape Dutch not to accept it until the Transvaal (which, as shall be presently set forth, had been annexed in 1877) should have regained its independence. This failure of the proposals of the home government seriously damaged the prospects of future federation schemes, and is only one of several instances in South African history that show how much harm impatience may do, even when the object is itself laudable.

The next step in the forward march of British rule took place far to the south-west, on the borders of Natal. That territory had, in 1856, become a separate Colony, distinct from the Cape, and with a legislative council three-fourths of whose members were elective. It had still a relatively small white population, for many of the Boer immigrants had quitted it between 1843 and 1848, and though a body of English settlers arrived soon after the latter year, there were in 1878 only some 25,000 white residents, while the natives numbered fully 300,000. The Zulu kingdom, which adjoined it on the east, had passed (in 1872) from the sluggish Panda to his more energetic son Cetewayo (pronounced "Ketshwayo"), whose ambitious spirit had revived the military organization and traditions of his uncle Tshaka. Cetewayo had been installed as king by a British official, and had lived ever since at peace with the Colony; but the powerful army which he possessed roused disquiet among the Natalians, and alarmed the then Governor of the Cape and High Commissioner for South Africa, Sir Bartle Frere. Differences had arisen between him and Cetewayo, and when the latter refused to submit to the demands which the High Commissioner addressed to him, including a requirement that he should disband his regiments and receive a British resident, war was declared against him. This act was justified at the time on the ground that the Zulu military power constituted a standing menace to Natal and to South Africa in general, and that the vast majority of the natives living in Natal itself might join the Zulu king were he to invade the colony. Whether this risk was sufficiently imminent to warrant such a step was then, and has been since, warmly debated in England. Most of those who have given impartial study to the subject, and have studied also the character and earlier career of the High Commissioner, are disposed to think that war might have been and ought to have been avoided, and that Sir Bartle Frere, in declaring it, committed a grave error; but it is right to add that there are persons in South Africa who still defend his action. The invasion of Zululand which followed began with a disaster—the surprise at Isandhlwana (January, 1879) of a British force, which was almost annihilated by a vastly superior native army. Ultimately, however, Cetewayo was defeated and made prisoner. Zululand was divided among thirteen petty chiefs under a British resident, and subsequently, in 1887, annexed to the British crown as a dependency, to be administered by the Governor of Natal. Except for some disturbances in 1888, its people have since remained peaceful, prosperous, and to all appearance contented. It has now (1897) been decided to annex Zululand to Natal.

We may now return to follow the fortunes of the emigrant Boers of the far north-eastern interior whose republic, recognized by the Imperial Government in 1852, was at length, after twenty-five years, to be brought into a closer connection than ever with the British Colonies by events which are still fresh in men's memories, and which are exerting a potent influence on the politics of our own time. The scale of these events was small, but the circumstances are full of instruction, and many years may yet elapse before their consequences have been fully worked out.

The Dutch farmers who had settled beyond the Vaal River were more rude and uneducated than those of the Free State, had no admixture of English blood, and remained unaffected by intercourse with the more civilized people of Cape Colony. Their love of independence was accompanied by a tendency to discord. Their warlike spirit had produced a readiness to take up arms on slight occasions, and had degenerated into a fondness for predatory expeditions. They were, moreover, always desirous of enlarging the area of their stock farms by the annexation of fresh territory to the north and west, and thus were constantly brought into collision with the native occupants of the country. Scattered thinly over a wide area of pasture land, they were practically exempt from the control of law courts or magistrates, while at the same time the smallness of their numbers, and the family ties which linked them into jealous and mutually distrustful groups, gave rise to personal rivalries among the leaders and bitter feuds among the adherents of each faction, resembling those which used to distract a city republic in ancient Greece or medieval Italy. The absence of any effective government had attracted many adventurers from various parts of South Africa, who wandered as traders or hunters through the wilder parts of the country and along its borders, men often violent and reckless, who ill-treated the natives, and constituted not only a public scandal, but, by the provocations which they gave to the Kafir chiefs, a danger to the peace of the adjoining British territories, as well as to that of the Transvaal itself.

From their first settlement beyond the Vaal in the years immediately following the Great Trek of 1836, the farmers, though considering themselves to form one people, had been grouped in several small communities. In 1852 there were four such, those of Potchefstroom, Utrecht, Lydenburg, and Zoutpansberg, each having its Volksraad (people's council) and president or executive head, while a sort of loosely federative tie linked them together for the purposes, not of internal administration, but of defence against common foes.

In 1857 the Potchefstroom people tried to conquer the Orange Free State, then in the third year of its life, but desisted on finding that the infant Republic was prepared to defend itself. A single Volksraad for all the communities beyond the Vaal had been chosen as far back as 1849; but respect for authority grew very slowly, and for a time it could not be said to represent more than a party. In 1852, however, it ratified the Sand River Convention, and in 1855 it appointed a commission to draft a complete body of law. Finally, in 1858, an instrument called the "Grondwet," or Fundamental Law, was drawn up by a body of delegates named (by a "Krygsraad," or War Council) for that purpose. This instrument was revised and adopted by the Volksraad, and presently received the adhesion of two of the semi-independent communities, those of Potchestroom and Zoutpansberg, and in 1860 also of those at Lydenburg and Utrecht, which had by that time united. It has been since several times modified, and the question whether it is to be deemed a truly rigid constitution, like that of the United States or that of the Swiss Confederation, has given rise to much controversy.[25] A civil war broke out in 1862, and the country can hardly be said to have reached one united government till 1864, when the then president, Mr. M. W. Pretorius (son of the old antagonist of the English), was recognized by all the communities and factions as their executive head.

Even in 1864 the white population of the South African Republic was very small, probably not more than 30,000 all told, giving an average of less than one person to three square miles. There were, however, hundreds of thousands of natives, a few of whom were living as servants, under a system of enforced labour which was sometimes hardly distinguishable from slavery, while the vast majority were ruled by their own chiefs, some as tributaries of the Republic, some practically independent of it. With the latter wars were frequently raging—wars in which shocking cruelties were perpetrated on both sides, the Kafirs massacring the white families whom they surprised, the Boer commandos taking a savage vengeance upon the tribes when they captured a kraal or mountain stronghold. It was the sight of these wars which drove Dr. Livingstone to begin his famous explorations to the north. The farmers were too few to reduce the natives to submission, though always able to defeat them in the field, and while they relished an expedition, they had an invincible dislike to any protracted operations which cost money. Taxes they would not pay. They lived in a sort of rude plenty among their sheep and cattle, but they had hardly any coined money, conducting their transactions by barter, and they were too rude to value the benefits which government secures to a civilized people. Accordingly the treasury remained almost empty, the paper money which was issued fell till in 1870 it was worth only one-fourth of its face value, no public improvements were made, no proper administration existed, and every man did what was right in his own eyes. In 1872 Mr. M. W. Pretorius was obliged to resign the presidency, owing to the unpopularity he had incurred by accepting the arbitration mentioned above (p. 144), which declared the piece of territory where diamonds had been found not to belong to the Republic, and which the Volksraad thereupon repudiated. His successor was Mr. Burgers, a Cape Dutchman who had formerly been a clergyman of the Dutch Reformed Church and afterwards an advocate at the Cape, a man of energy, integrity, and eloquence, but deficient in practical judgment, and who soon became distrusted on account of his theological opinions. It used to be jestingly said that the Boers disliked him because he denied that the devil possessed that tail which is shown in the pictures that adorn the old Dutch Bibles; but his deviations from orthodoxy went much further than this, and were deemed by the people to be the cause of the misfortunes they experienced under his guidance. He formed large plans for the development of the country and the extension of Boer power over South Africa, plans which his citizens were unable to appreciate and the resources at his disposal were quite unfit to accomplish. Disorganization, aggravated by intestine faction, grew worse and worse. The State was practically bankrupt; trade had ceased, money could not be raised. In 1876, in a war which had broken out with Sikukuni, a Kafir chief who lived in the mountains of the north-east, the Boers were repulsed, and ultimately returned in confusion to their homes. On the south, Cetewayo, then in the zenith of his power, was unfriendly, and seemed likely to pour in his Zulu hordes. The weakness and disorders of the Republic had become a danger not only to the British subjects who had begun to settle in it, especially at the Lydenburg gold mines, but also to the neighbouring British territories, and especially to Natal; so a British commissioner was sent to examine into the condition of the country, with secret instructions empowering him to proclaim, if he should deem it necessary, and if he was satisfied that the majority of the inhabitants would approve, its annexation to the British crown. After three months' inquiry the commissioner, Sir Theophilus Shepstone, exercised this power upon April 12, 1877, and his act was approved by the High Commissioner at the Cape and by the Colonial Secretary in England. President Burgers had endeavoured to rouse his people by pointing out that only through reforms could they preserve their independence. They agreed to the reforms, but would not help him to carry them out, and obstinately refused to pay taxes. He was helpless, for while the more rigidly Calvinistic section of the population supported Paul Kruger, his opponent in the approaching presidential election, others (especially the English who had settled in the spots where a little gold had been found) favoured annexation to Great Britain, and most of the Boers had been repelled by his unorthodox opinions. Accordingly, after entering a protest against the annexation, he returned to Cape Colony, and received a pension, his private means having been entirely spent in the service of his country.[26] The Vice-President (Mr. Kruger) and the executive council of the Republic also protested, and sent delegates to London to remonstrate. By the mass of the Boer people—for the few English, of course, approved—little displeasure was shown and no resistance made. Had a popular vote been taken it would doubtless have been adverse to annexation, for a memorial circulated shortly afterwards, praying for a reversal of Sir T. Shepstone's act, received the signatures of a large majority of the Boer citizens.[27] But while they regretted their independence, they had been so much depressed by their disasters, and were so much relieved to know that the strong arm of Britain would now repel any Kafir invasion, as to take the change more quietly than any one who remembered their earlier history would have expected.

On the English public, which knew little and cared less about South African affairs, the news that their empire had been extended by a territory nearly as large as the United Kingdom, though it came as a complete surprise, produced little impression. They were then excited over the outbreak of the war between Russia and the Turks, and absorbed in the keen party struggles which Lord Beaconsfield's apparent desire to help the Turks had caused in England, so that scant attention was given to a distant colonial question. A motion condemning the annexation which was brought forward in the House of Commons received no support. Nearly all of those few persons who cared about South Africa had been alienated from the Boers by their treatment of the natives. Scarcely any one foresaw the long series of troubles, not yet ended, to which the annexation was destined to give rise. Neither did it arouse any serious opposition in Cape Colony, though the Dutch element there regarded with misgivings the withdrawal of independence from their emigrant kinsfolk.

To those who now look back at the act, in the light of the events which followed, it seems a high-handed proceeding to extinguish a Republic which had been formally recognized twenty-five years before, and to do this without giving the people an opportunity of declaring their wishes. Yet the act was not done in a spirit of rapacity. Neither the British government nor the British people had the least idea of the wealth that lay hidden beneath the barren and desolate ridges of the Witwatersrand. No one in England talked (though the notion had crossed a few ambitious minds) of pushing British dominion up to the Zambesi. The Transvaal Republic was bankrupt and helpless, distracted by internal quarrels, unable to collect any taxes, apparently unable to defend itself against its Kafir enemies, and likely to be the cause of native troubles which might probably spread till they affected all Europeans in South Africa. There was some reason to believe that the citizens, though they had not been consulted, would soon acquiesce in the change, especially when they found, as they soon did find, that the value of property rose with the prospect of security and of the carrying out of internal improvements by a strong and wealthy power. Such was certainly the belief of Sir T. Shepstone and of Lord Carnarvon, and it seemed to be confirmed by the apparent tranquillity which the Boers exhibited.

So, indeed, they might have acquiesced notwithstanding their strenuous love of independence, had they been wisely dealt with. But the British government proceeded forthwith to commit three capital blunders.

The first of these, and the least excusable, was the failure to grant that local autonomy which Sir T. Shepstone had announced when he proclaimed annexation. The Volksraad which the people were promised was never convoked; the constitution under which they were to enjoy self-government was never promulgated. There was no intention to break these promises, but merely a delay, culpable, indeed, but due to ignorance of the popular Boer sentiment, and to the desire of the Colonial Office to carry out its pet scheme of South African confederation before conceding to the Transvaal such a representative assembly as would have had the power to reject, on behalf of the people, the scheme when tendered to them. Nor were matters mended when at last a legislature was granted, to consist of some officials, and of six members nominated by the Governor, for this made the people fear that a genuine freely elected Volksraad would never be conceded at all.

The second blunder was the selection of the person who was to administer the country. Sir T. Shepstone, who knew it well and was liked by the Boers, was replaced by a military officer who had shown vigour in dealing with local disturbances in Griqualand West, but was totally unfit for delicate political work. As representative government had not yet been introduced, his administration was necessarily autocratic in form, and became autocratic in spirit also. He was described to me by some who knew him as stiff in mind and arrogant in temper, incapable of making allowances for the homely manners of the Boers and of adapting himself to the social equality which prevailed among them. A trifling cause aggravated their dislike. His complexion was swarthy, and they suspected that this might be due to some tinge of negro blood. He refused to listen to their complaints, levied taxes strictly, causing even the beloved ox-waggon to be seized when money was not forthcoming, and soon turned their smouldering discontent into active disaffection.

Finally, the British government removed the two native dangers which the Boers had feared. In 1879 Sir Bartle Frere's war with Cetewayo destroyed the Zulu power, the dread of which might have induced the Boers to resign themselves to British supremacy, and an expedition under Sir Garnet Wolseley reduced Sikukuni's strongholds and established peace in the north-east. It was probably necessary to deal with Sikukuni, though the British government seems to have forgotten its former doubts as to the right of the Boers to the territory of that chief; but in extinguishing the Zulu kingdom the High Commissioner overlooked the fact that he was also extinguishing the strongest motive which the republicans had for remaining British subjects. The British government were doubly unfortunate. It was the annexation of the Transvaal in 1877 that had alarmed Cetewayo and helped to precipitate the war of 1879. It was now the overthrow of Cetewayo, their formidable enemy, that helped to precipitate a revolt of the Boers.

At this time, however, everybody in British South Africa, and nearly everybody in England, supposed the annexation to be irrevocable. Leading members of the parliamentary Opposition had condemned it. But when that Opposition, victorious in the general election of 1880, took office in April of that year, the officials in South Africa, whose guidance they sought, made light of Boer discontent, and declared that it would be impossible now to undo what had been done in 1877. Thus misled, the new Cabinet refused to reverse the annexation, saying by the mouth of the Under Secretary for the Colonies, "Fieri non debuit, factum valet." This decision of the British government, which came as a surprise upon the recalcitrant republicans in the Transvaal, precipitated an outbreak. In December, 1880, a mass-meeting of the Boers was held at a place called Paardekraal (now Krugersdorp). It was resolved to rise in arms; and a triumvirate was elected, consisting of Messrs. M.W. Pretorius, Kruger and Joubert, which proclaimed the re-establishment of the South African Republic, and hoisted the national flag on Dingaan's day, December 16.[28] The Boers, nearly every man of whom was accustomed to fighting, now rose en masse and attacked the small detachments of British troops scattered through the country, some of which were cut off, while the rest were obliged to retire to posts which they fortified. The Governor of Natal, General Sir George Colley, raised what troops he could in that Colony, and marched northward; but before he could reach the Transvaal border a strong force of Boers, commanded by Commandant-General Joubert, crossed it and took up a position at Laing's Nek, a steep ridge close to the watershed between the upper waters of the Klip River, a tributary of the Vaal, and those of the Buffalo River, which joins the Tugela and flows into the Indian Ocean. Here the British general, on January 28, 1881, attacked the Boers, but was repulsed with heavy loss, for the ridge behind which they were posted protected them from his artillery, while their accurate rifle fire cut down his column as it mounted the slope. A second engagement, eleven days later, on the Ingogo heights, caused severe loss to the British troops. Finally, on the night of February 26, General Colley, with a small detachment, seized by night Majuba Hill, a mountain which rises about 1500 feet above Laing's Nek, and completely commands that pass.[29] Unfortunately he omitted to direct the main force, which he had left behind at his camp, four miles south of the Nek, to advance against the Boers and occupy their attention; so the latter, finding no movement made against them in front, and receiving no artillery fire from Majuba Hill above them, checked the first impulse to retire, which the sight of British troops on the hilltop had produced, and sent out a volunteer party to scale the hill. Protected by the steep declivities from the fire of the soldiers above them, they made their way up, shooting down those whom they saw against the sky-line, and finally routed the British force, killing General Colley, with ninety-one others, and taking fifty-nine prisoners. By this time fresh troops were beginning to arrive in Natal, and before long the British general who had succeeded to the command had at his disposal a force which the Boers could not possibly have resisted. The home government, however, had ordered an armistice to be concluded (March 5), and on March 23 terms were agreed to by which the "Transvaal State" (as it was called) was again recognized as a quasi-independent political community, to enjoy complete self-government under the suzerainty of the British crown. These terms were developed in a more formal convention, signed at Pretoria in August, 1881, which recognized the Transvaal as autonomous, subject, however, to the suzerainty of the Queen, to British control in matters of foreign policy, to the obligation to allow British troops to pass through the Republic in time of war, and to guarantees for the protection of the natives.[30] The position in which the Transvaal thus found itself placed was a peculiar one, and something between that of a self-governing Colony and an absolutely independent State. The nearest legal parallel is to be found in the position of some of the great feudatories of the British crown in India, but the actual circumstances were of course too unlike those of India to make the parallel instructive.

Few public acts of our time have been the subjects of more prolonged and acrimonious controversy than this reversal in 1881 of the annexation of 1877. The British government were at the time accused, both by the English element in the South African Colonies, and by their political opponents at home, of an ignominious surrender. They had, so it was urged, given way to rebellion. They had allowed three defeats to remain unavenged. They had weakly yielded to force what they had repeatedly and solemnly refused to peaceful petitions. They had disregarded the pledges given both to Englishmen and to natives in the Transvaal. They had done all this for a race of men who had been uniformly harsh and unjust to the Kafirs, who had brought their own Republic to bankruptcy and chaos by misgovernment, who were and would remain foes of the British empire, who were incapable of appreciating magnanimity, and would construe forbearance as cowardice. They had destroyed the prestige of British power in Africa among whites and blacks, and thereby sowed for themselves and their successors a crop of future difficulties.

To these arguments it was replied that the annexation had been made, and the earlier refusals to reverse it pronounced, under a complete misapprehension as to the facts. The representatives of the Colonial Office in South Africa had reported, partly through insufficient knowledge, partly because their views were influenced by their feelings, that there was no such passion for independence among the Boers as events had shown to exist.[31] Once the true facts were known, did it not become not merely unjust to deprive the Transvaal people of the freedom they prized so highly, but also impolitic to retain by force those who would have been disaffected and troublesome subjects? A free nation which professes to be everywhere the friend of freedom is bound—so it was argued—to recognize the principles it maintains even when they work against itself; and if these considerations went to show that the retrocession of the Transvaal was a proper course, was it either wise or humane to prolong the war and crush the Boer resistance at the cost of much slaughter, merely in order to avenge defeats and vindicate a military superiority which the immensely greater forces of Britain made self-evident? A great country is strong enough to be magnanimous, and shows her greatness better by justice and lenity than by a sanguinary revenge. These moral arguments, which affect different minds differently, were reinforced by a strong ground of policy. The Boers of the Orange Free State had sympathised warmly with their kinsfolk in the Transvaal, and were with difficulty kept from crossing the border to join them. The President of the Free State, a sagacious man, anxious to secure peace, had made himself prominent as a mediator, but it was not certain that his citizens might not, even against his advice, join in the fighting. Among the Africander Dutch of Cape Colony and Natal the feeling for the Transvaal Boers was hardly less strong, and the accentuation of Dutch sentiment, caused by the events of 1880 and 1881, has ever since been a main factor in the politics of Cape Colony. The British government were advised from the Cape that the invasion of the Transvaal might probably light up a civil war through the two Colonies. The power of Great Britain would of course have prevailed, even against the whole Dutch-speaking population of South Africa; but it would have prevailed only after much bloodshed, and at the cost of an intense embitterment of feeling, which would have destroyed the prospects of the peace and welfare of the two Colonies for many years to come. The loss of the Transvaal seemed a slight evil in comparison.

Whether such a race conflict would in fact have broken out all over South Africa is a question on which opinion is still divided, and about which men may dispute for ever. The British government, however, deemed the risk of it a real one, and by that view their action was mainly governed. After careful inquiries from those best qualified to judge, I am inclined to think that they were right. It must, however, be admitted that the event belied some of their hopes. They had expected that the Transvaal people would appreciate the generosity of the retrocession, as well as the humanity which was willing to forgo vengeance for the tarnished lustre of British arms. The Boers, however, saw neither generosity nor humanity in their conduct, but only fear. Jubilant over their victories, and (like the Kafirs in the South Coast wars) not realizing the overwhelming force which could have been brought against them, they fancied themselves entitled to add some measure of contempt to the dislike they already cherished to the English, and they have ever since shown themselves unpleasant neighbours. The English in South Africa, on their part, have continued to resent the concession of independence to the Transvaal, and especially the method in which it was conceded. Those who had recently settled in the Republic, relying on the declarations repeatedly made that it would for ever remain British, complained that no proper compensation was made to them, and that they had much to suffer from the Boers. Those who live in the two Colonies hold that the disgrace (as they term it) of Majuba Hill ought to have been wiped out by a march to Pretoria, and that the Boers should have been made to recognize that Britain is, and will remain, the paramount power in fact as well as in name. They feel aggrieved to this day that the terms of peace were settled at Laing's Nek, within the territory of Natal, while it was still held by the Boers. Even in Cape Colony, where the feeling is perhaps less strong than it is in Natal, the average Englishman has neither forgotten nor forgiven the events of 1881.

I have dwelt fully upon these events because they are, next to the Great Trek of 1836, the most important in the internal history of South Africa, and those which have most materially affected the present political situation. The few years that followed may be more briefly dismissed. The Transvaal State emerged from its war of independence penniless and unorganized, but with a redoubled sense of Divine favour and a reinvigorated consciousness of national life. The old constitution was set to work; the Volksraad again met; Mr. Stephen John Paul Kruger, who had been the leading figure in the triumvirate, was chosen by the people to be President, and has subsequently been thrice re-elected to that office. Undismayed by the scantiness of his State resources, he formed bold and far-reaching plans of advance on the three sides which lay open to him. To the north a trek was projected, and some years later was nearly carried out, for the occupation of Mashonaland. To the south bands of Boer adventurers entered Zululand, the first of them as trekkers, the rest as auxiliaries to one of the native chiefs, who were at war with one another. These adventurers established a sort of republic in the northern districts, and would probably have seized the whole had not the British government at last interfered and confined them to a territory of nearly three thousand square miles, which was recognized in 1886 under the name of the New Republic, and which in 1888 merged itself in the Transvaal. To the west, other bands of Boer raiders entered Bechuanaland, seized land or obtained grants of land by the usual devices, required the chiefs to acknowledge their supremacy, and proceeded to establish two petty republics, one called Stellaland, round the village of Vryburg, north of Kimberley, and the other, farther north, called Goshen. These violent proceedings, which were not only injurious to the natives, but were obviously part of a plan to add Bechuanaland to the Transvaal territories, and close against the English the path to those northern regions in which Britain was already interested, roused the British Government. In the end of 1884 an expedition led by Sir Charles Warren entered Bechuanaland. The freebooters of the two Republics retired before it, and the districts they had occupied were erected into a Crown Colony under the name of British Bechuanaland. In 1895 this territory was annexed to Cape Colony. In order to prevent the Boers from playing the same game in the country still farther north, where their aggressions had so far back as 1876 led Khama, chief of the Bamangwato, to ask for British protection, a British protectorate was proclaimed (March, 1885) over the whole country as far as the borders of Matabililand; and a few years later, in 1888, a treaty was concluded with Lo Bengula, the Matabili king, whereby he undertook not to cede territory to, or make a treaty with, any foreign power without the consent of the British High Commissioner. The west was thus secured against the further advance of the Boers, while on the eastern shore the hoisting of the British flag at St. Lucia Bay in 1884 (a spot already ceded by Panda in 1843), followed by the conclusion (in 1887) of a treaty with the Tonga chiefs, by which they undertook not to make any treaty with any other power, announced the resolution of the British crown to hold the coast line up to the Portuguese territories.

This policy of preventing the extension of Boer dominion over the natives was, however, accompanied by a willingness to oblige the Transvaal people in other ways. Though they had not observed the conditions of the Convention of 1881, the Boers had continued to importune the British government for an ampler measure of independence. In 1884 they succeeded in inducing Lord Derby, then Colonial Secretary, to agree to a new Convention, which thereafter defined the relations between the British crown and the South African Republic, a title now at last formally conceded. By this instrument (called the Convention of London),[32] whose articles were substituted for the articles of the Convention of 1881, the control of foreign policy stipulated for in the Pretoria Convention of 1881 was cut down to a provision that the Republic should "conclude no treaty with any State or nation other than the Orange Free State, nor with any native tribe to the eastward or westward of the Republic," without the approval of the Queen. The declarations of the two previous Conventions (of 1852 and 1881) against slavery were renewed, and there was a "most favoured nation" clause with provisions for the good treatment of strangers entering the Republic. Nothing was said as to the "suzerainty of her Majesty" mentioned in the Convention of 1881. The Boers have contended that this omission is equivalent to a renunciation, but to this it has been (among other things) replied that as that suzerainty was recognized not in the "articles" of the instrument of 1881, but in its introductory paragraph, it has not been renounced, and still subsists.[33]

A few years later, the amity which this Convention was meant to secure was endangered by the plan formed by a body of Boer farmers and adventurers to carry out an idea previously formed by Mr. Kruger, and trek northward into the country beyond the Limpopo River, a country where the natives were feeble and disunited, raided on one side by the Matabili and on the other by Gungunhana. This trek would have brought the emigrants into collision with the English settlers who had shortly before entered Mashonaland. President Kruger, however, being pressed by the imperial government, undertook to check the movement, and so far succeeded that the waggons which crossed the Limpopo were but few and were easily turned back. Prevented from expanding to the north, the Boers were all the more eager to acquire Swaziland, a small but rich territory which lies to the east of their Republic, and is inhabited by a warlike Kafir race, numbering about 70,000, near of kin to the Zulus, but for many years hostile to them. Both the Boers and Cetewayo had formerly claimed supremacy over this region. The British government had never admitted the Boer claim, but when the head chief of the Swazis had, by a series of improvident concessions, granted away to adventurers, most of them Boers, nearly all the best land and minerals the country contained, it was found extremely difficult to continue the system of joint administration by the High Commissioner and the Transvaal government which had been provisionally established, and all the more difficult because by the concession to the New Republic (which had by this time become incorporated with the Transvaal) of the part of Zululand which adjoined Swaziland, direct communication between Natal and Swaziland had become difficult, especially in the malarious season. Accordingly, after long negotiations, an arrangement was concluded, in 1894, which placed the Swazi nation and territory under the control of the South African Republic, subject to full guarantees for the protection of the natives. A previous Convention (of 1890) had given the South African Republic certain rights of making a railway to the coast at Kosi Bay through the low and malarious region which lies between Swaziland and the sea, and the earlier negotiations had proceeded on the assumption that these rights were to be adjusted and renewed in the same instrument which was destined to settle the Swaziland question. The Boer government, however, ultimately declined to include such an adjustment in the new Convention, and as this new Convention superseded and extinguished the former one of 1890, those provisions for access to the sea necessarily lapsed. The British government promptly availed itself of the freedom its rivals had thus tendered to it, and with the consent of the three chiefs (of Tonga race) who rule in the region referred to, proclaimed a protectorate over the strip of land which lies between Swaziland and the sea, as far north as the frontiers of Portuguese territory. Thus the door has been finally closed on the schemes which the Boers have so often sought to carry out for the acquisition of a railway communication with the coast entirely under their own control. It was an object unfavourable to the interests of the paramount power, for it would not only have disturbed the commercial relations of the interior with the British coast ports, but would also have favoured the wish of the Boer government to establish political ties with other European powers. The accomplishment of that design was no doubt subjected by the London Convention of 1884 to the veto of Britain. But in diplomacy facts as well as treaties have their force, and a Power which has a seaport, and can fly a flag on the ocean, is in a very different position from one cut off by intervening territories from those whose support it is supposed to seek. Thus the establishment of the protectorate over these petty Tonga chiefs may be justly deemed one of the most important events in recent South African history.

Down to 1884 Great Britain and Portugal had been the only European powers established in South Africa. For some time before that year there had been German mission stations in parts of the region which lies between the Orange River and the West African possessions of Portugal, and in 1883 a Bremen merchant named LÜderitz established a trading factory at the bay of Angra PequeÑa, which lies on the Atlantic coast about one hundred and fifty miles north of the mouth of that river, and obtained from a neighbouring chief a cession of a piece of territory there, which the German government a few months later recognized as a German Colony. Five years earlier, in 1878, Walfish Bay, which lies farther north, and is the best haven (or rather roadstead) on the coast, had been annexed to Cape Colony; but though it was generally understood both in the Colony and in England, that the whole of the west coast up to the Portuguese boundary was in some vague way subject to British influence, nothing had been done to claim any distinct right, much less to perfect that right by occupation. The Colony had always declined or omitted to vote money for the purpose, and the home government had not cared to spend any. When the colonists knew that Germany was really establishing herself as their neighbour on the north, they were much annoyed; but it was now too late to resist, and in 1884, after a long correspondence, not creditable to the foresight or promptitude of the late Lord Derby, who was then Colonial Secretary, the protectorate of Germany was formally recognized, while in 1890 the boundaries of the German and British "spheres of influence" farther north were defined by a formal agreement—the same agreement which settled the respective "spheres of influence" of the two powers in Eastern Africa, between the Zambesi and the upper Nile. Although the people of Cape Colony continue to express their regret at having a great European power conterminous with them on the north, there has been really little or no practical contact between the Germans and the colonists, for while the northern part of the Colony, lying along the lower course of the Orange River, is so arid as to be very thinly peopled, the southern part of the German territory, called Great Namaqualand, is a wilderness inhabited only by wandering Hottentots (though parts of it are good pasture land), while, to the east, Namaqualand is separated from the habitable parts of British Bechuanaland by the great Kalahari Desert.

The new impulse for colonial expansion which had prompted the Germans to occupy Damaraland and the Cameroons on the western, and the Zanzibar coasts on the eastern, side of Africa was now telling on other European powers, and made them all join in the scramble for Africa, a continent which a few years before had been deemed worthless. Italy and France entered the field in the north-east, France in the north-west; and Britain, which had in earlier days moved with such slow and wavering steps in the far south, was roused by the competition to a swifter advance. Within nine years from the assumption of the protectorate over British Bechuanaland, which the action of the Boers had brought about in 1885, the whole unappropriated country up to the Zambesi came under British control.

In 1888 a treaty made with Lo Bengula extended the range of British influence and claim not only over Matabililand proper, but over Mashonaland and an undefined territory to the eastward, whereof Lo Bengula claimed to be suzerain. Next came, in 1889, the grant of a royal charter to a company, known as the British South Africa Company, which had been formed to develop this eastern side of Lo Bengula's dominion, and to work the gold mines believed to exist there, an undertaking chiefly due to the bold and forceful spirit of Mr. Cecil Rhodes, who perceived that if Britain did not speedily establish some right to the country, the Transvaal Boers would trek in and acquire it. In 1890 the pioneer British settlers moved up through Bechuanaland into Mashonaland, and the Company, which, like the East India Company of the eighteenth century, was to be a ruling and administering power as well as a trading association, established itself along the eastern part of the great plateau and began to build forts. Here it came into collision with the Portuguese, who, stimulated by the activity of other nations, had been re-asserting their dormant claims to the interior and sending up expeditions to occupy the country. A skirmish which occurred near Massikessi, in Manicaland, ended in the repulse of the Portuguese, and the capture of their commanders, who were, however, soon after released by Dr. Jameson, the newly appointed administrator of the Company; and another conflict in May, 1891, in which the Portuguese again suffered severely, hastened the conclusion of a treaty (June, 1891) between Great Britain and Portugal, by which the boundary between the Portuguese territories and those included in the British "sphere of influence" was fixed. By this treaty a vast region in the interior which lies along the Upper Zambesi west of Portuguese territory and south of the Congo Free State was recognized by Portugal as within the British sphere. An agreement of the preceding year between Germany and Great Britain (July 1, 1890) had defined the limits of German and British influence on the east side of the continent; and as Germany, Portugal, and the Congo State were the only civilized powers conterminous with Great Britain in this part of the world, these treaties, together with the instrument—to which Great Britain had been a party—that determined the limits of the Congo State, settled finally all these questions of the interior, and gave to Great Britain a legal title to her share of it.

That title, however, like the other titles by which the European powers held their new African possessions, was a paper title, and valid only as against other neighbouring European powers. It had nothing whatever to do with the Kafir tribes who dwelt in the country. What are called the rights of a civilized Power as against the natives rests in some cases upon treaties made with the chiefs, treaties of whose effect the chiefs are often ignorant, and in others on the mere will of the European power which proclaims to the world that it claims the country; and it is held that the Power which makes the claim must, at least in the latter class of cases, perfect its claim by actual occupation. In the case of these new British territories treaties were made with a certain number of chiefs. One already existed with Lo Bengula, king of the Matabili; but it merely bound him not to league himself with any other power, and did not make him a British vassal. It was clear, however, that with so restless and warlike a race as the Matabili this state of things could not last long. Lo Bengula had been annoyed at the march of the pioneers into Mashonaland, and tried to stop them, but was foiled by the swiftness of their movements. Once they were established there he seems to have desired to keep the peace; but his young warriors would not suffer him to do so. They had been accustomed to go raiding among the feeble and disunited Mashonas, whom they slaughtered and plundered to their hearts' content. When they found that the Company resented these attacks, collisions occurred, and the reluctance to fight which Lo Bengula probably felt counted for little. What he could do he did: he protected with scrupulous care not only the missionaries, but other Europeans at his kraal, and, after the war had broken out, he sent envoys to treat, two of whom, by a deplorable error, were killed by the advancing column of Bechuanaland imperial police, for as the Company's officers were not at the moment prepared, either in money or in men, for a conflict, the imperial government sent a force northward from Bechuanaland to co-operate with that which the Company had in Mashonaland. A raid by Matabili warriors on the Mashonas living near Fort Victoria, whom they called their slaves, precipitated hostilities (July to October, 1893). The Matabili, whose vain confidence in their own prowess led them to attack in the open when they ought to have resorted to bush fighting, were defeated in two battles by the Company's men. Lo Bengula fled towards the Zambesi and died there (January, 1894) of fever and despair, as Shere Ali Khan had died when chased out of Kabul by the British in 1878; while his indunas and the bulk of the Matabili people submitted with little further resistance. Matabililand was now occupied by the Company, which shortly afterwards took possession of the northern part of its sphere of operations by running a telegraph wire across the Zambesi and by placing officers on the shore of Lake Tanganyika. In March, 1896, the Matabili and some of the Mashona chiefs revolted, but after five months' fighting, in which many lives were lost, peace was restored, and the subsequent construction of two railways into the heart of the country of these tribes has given a great, if not complete, security against a renewal of like troubles.[34]

By the establishment of the British South Africa Company to the north of the Transvaal that State had now become inclosed in British territory on every side except the east; nor could it advance to Delagoa Bay, because Portugal was bound by the Arbitration Treaty of 1872 to allow Great Britain a right of pre-emption over her territory there. Meantime new forces had begun to work within the Republic. Between 1867 and 1872 gold had been found in several places on the eastern side of the country, but in quantities so small that no one attached much importance to the discovery. After 1882, however, it began to be pretty largely worked. In 1885 the conglomerate or banket beds of the Witwatersrand were discovered,[35] and the influx of strangers, which had been considerable from 1882 onward, increased immensely, till in 1895 the number of recent immigrants, most of whom were adult males, had risen to a number (roughly estimated at 100,000) largely exceeding that of the whole Boer population. Although the first result of the working of the gold mines and the growth of the towns had been to swell the revenues of the previously impecunious Republic, President Kruger and the Boers generally were alarmed at seeing a tide of aliens from the British colonies and Europe and the United States, most of them British subjects, and nearly all speaking English, rise up around and threaten to submerge them. They proceeded to defend themselves by restricting the electoral franchise, which had theretofore been easily acquirable by immigrants. Laws were passed which, by excluding the newcomers, kept the native Boer element in a safe majority; and even when in 1890 a concession was made by the creation of a second Legislative Chamber, based on a more extended franchise, its powers were carefully restricted, and the election not only of the First Raad (the principal Chamber), but also of the President and Executive Council, remained confined to those who had full citizenship under the previous statutes. Discontent spread among the new-comers, who complained both of their exclusion from political rights and of various grievances which they and the mining industry suffered at the hands of the government. A reform association was formed in 1892. In 1894 the visit of the British High Commissioner, who had come from the Cape to negotiate with the President on Swaziland and other pending questions, led to a vehement pro-British and anti-Boer demonstration at Pretoria, and thenceforward feeling ran high at Johannesburg, the new centre of the Rand mining district and of the immigrant population. Finally, in December, 1895, a rising took place at Johannesburg, the circumstances attending which must be set forth in the briefest way, for the uncontroverted facts are fresh in every one's recollection, while an attempt to discuss the controverted ones would lead me from the field of history into that of contemporary politics.[36] It is enough to say while a large section of the Uitlanders (as the new alien immigrants are called) in Johannesburg were preparing to press their claims for reforms upon the government, and to provide themselves with arms for that purpose, an outbreak was precipitated by the entry into Transvaal territory from Pitsani in Bechuanaland of a force of about five hundred men, mostly in the service of the British South Africa Company as police, and led by the Company's Administrator, with whom (and with Mr. Rhodes, the managing director of the Company) a prior arrangement had been made by the reform leaders, that in case of trouble at Johannesburg he should, if summoned, come to the aid of the Uitlander movement. A question as to the flag under which the movement was to be made caused a postponement of the day previously fixed for making it. The leaders of the force at Pitsani, however, became impatient, thinking that the Boer government was beginning to suspect their intentions; and thus, though requested to remain quiet, the force started on the evening of December 29. Had they been able, as they expected, to get through without fighting, they might probably have reached Johannesburg in three or four days' march, for the distance is only 170 miles. But while the High Commissioner issued a proclamation disavowing their action and ordering them to retire, they found themselves opposed by the now rapidly gathering Boer levies, were repulsed at Krugersdorp, and ultimately forced to surrender on the forenoon of January 1, 1896, at a place called Doornkop. The Johannesburg Uitlanders, who, though unprepared for any such sudden movement, had risen in sympathy at the news of the inroad, laid down their arms a few days later.[37]

I have given the bare outline of these latest events in South African history for the sake of bringing the narrative down to the date when I began to write. But as I was at Pretoria and Johannesburg immediately before the rising of December 1895 took place, and had good opportunities of seeing what forces were at work, and in what direction the currents of opinion were setting, I propose to give in a subsequent chapter (Chapter XXV) a somewhat fuller description of the state of things in the Transvaal at the end of 1895, and to reserve for a still later chapter some general reflections on the course of South African history.