: John Laband
: The Boer Invasion of The Zulu Kingdom 1837-1840
: Jonathan Ball
: 9781776192717
: 1
: CHF 12.60
:
: Biographien, Autobiographien
: English
: 276
: Wasserzeichen
: PC/MAC/eReader/Tablet
: ePUB
The battle of Blood River, or Ncome, on 16 December 1838 has long been regarded as a critical moment in the history of South Africa. It is the culminating victory by the land-hungry Boers who had migrated out of the British-ruled Cape and invaded the Zulu kingdom in 1837. Many Afrikaners long acclaimed their triumph as the God-given justification for their subsequent dominion over Africans. By contrast, Africans celebrate the war with pride for its significance in their valiant struggle against colonial aggression. In this account, John Laband deals as even-handedly as possible with the warring sides in the conflict. In contrasting their military systems, he explains both victory and defeat in the many battles that marked the war. Crucially, he also presents the less familiar Zulu perspective explaining the political motivation, strategic military objectives and fissures in the royal house. This is the first book in English that engages with the war between the Boers and the Zulu in its entire context or takes the Zulu evidence into proper account.

DR JOHN LABAND is a Professor Emeritus of History at Wilfrid Laurier University, Canada. He has authored, co-authored and edited over twenty books on warfare and military culture in Africa, specialising in the Zulu kingdom and in nineteenth-century colonial conflicts in southern Africa. His publications include The Eight Zulu Kings, published by Jonathan Ball in 2018.

1


Breaking down the maize stalks

TheElizabeth and Susan, a 30-ton timber-built schooner with one mast fore and another aft, tacked on 4 May 1828 into the wide, exposed sweep of Algoa Bay on the southern coast of Africa. Four days before, the little vessel had set sail from Port Natal, a tiny, scruffy settlement of British traders and hunters established in May 1824 on the shore of the Zulu kingdom, 383 nautical miles away to the north-east. The schooner’s commander was James King, a discharged midshipman of the Royal Navy who liked to pose as an ex-lieutenant.1 He was accompanied by several other hunter-traders (some bare-footed and partially dressed in animal skins) along with a consignment of hippopotamus ivory to sell. On board there were also several Zulu dignitaries, envoys despatched by Shaka kaSenzangakhona, the Zulu king. It was primarily on their account that theElizabeth and Susan was making the voyage, for King Shaka desired to establish friendly relations with the British authorities governing the Cape Colony.2

Shaka had entrusted his embassy with fifty tusks of elephant ivory to cover expenses and to be disbursed as gifts. The senior ambassador was Sothobe kaMpangalala, one of the king’s most distinguished and trusted councillors, an extremely arrogant, deep-chested giant of a man, celebrated for regularly eating a whole goat by himself.3 As a sign of his especial favour, Shaka had permitted Sothobe to bring along two of his many wives. Sothobe was subsequently celebrated in hisizibongo (the praises declaimed during a person’s lifetime and after his death in celebration of his deeds) for his heroism in sailing out to sea in a ship:

Splasher of water with an oxtail,

Great ship of the ocean,

The uncrossable sea,

Which is crossed only by swallows and white people …4

The amaZulu on board theElizabeth and Susan had been anticipating unimaginable wonders in the white men’s country, but they were swiftly disabused. The only contrivance that seems to have made a lasting impression was a pump that marvellously drew water ‘out of a hole’.5 Port Elizabeth, the Zulu embassy’s destination, was still in an embryonic state. It had been founded in 1820 on the western shore of Algoa Bay by the acting governor of Cape Colony, Sir Rufane Donkin, who named it to commemorate his deeply mourned wife who had died in India. Until the middle of the 19th century the port had no proper jetties, no lighthouse or breakwater. From ships anchored in the bay, passengers and cargo were brought through the angry surf on lighters, and were then transferred to the shoulders of African porters who carried them to shore. Once deposited on dry land, the Zulu ambassadors would have found Port Elizabeth (in the words of English contemporaries) an ‘ugly, dirty, ill-scented, ill-built hamlet, resembling some of the worst fishing villages on the English coast’, a disreputable place with a well-earned reputation for disorderly ‘drunkenness and immorality’.6

Yet, for all its undeniable drawbacks, Port Elizabeth was vital for the economic development of the eastern districts of the Cape Colony. In 1652 the Dutch East India Company, orVereenigde Oost-Indische Compagnie (VOC), had established a refreshment station at the Cape of Good Hope at the southern tip of Africa, strategically situated on the sea route to its commercial empire in the East Indies.7 It was not long before De Kaap (as the Dutch ca