1830 at the Cape of Good Hope: Cole, Zeko, the Ceded Farms, and Sir Lowry’s Pass

Cole and the Kat River Settlement — January–May 1830

Lieutenant-General Sir Galbraith Lowry Cole was in his second Cape year. He had taken the oaths on the 9th of September 1828, after a passage from Mauritius in HMS Tweed. The frontier he governed was not a new war on the Fish. In May 1829 Colonel Henry Somerset and Captain Andries Stockenstrom had driven Maqoma from the Kat valleys, and from June Khoikhoi had taken the ground as a freehold settlement. Cole visited those valleys toward the end of 1829. On the 2nd of January 1830 he gave it as his opinion that the experiment promised to succeed beyond his most sanguine expectations. The judgment mattered because the Kat was the first large grant of colonial land to Khoikhoi as owners, not as servants, and because the governor’s confidence would decide whether the settlement received muskets, a missionary, and time to hold the ground. [3] [4]

The greater number of those who formed the nucleus of the settlement were people from Bethelsdorp, and the reverend James Read felt it incumbent upon himself to reside among them. In May, having received, as he himself stated, a call from the whole of the Kat River settlers, he stationed himself at Philipton, the location of Andries Stoffles. Cole was not disposed to countenance the London society’s agents in the new settlement. He hoped that a government clergyman would oblige Read to withdraw. Read received no assistance from the public treasury but was maintained almost entirely by his society. Sunday schools and day schools were soon in full operation. The station mattered because the settlement now had a resident missionary the governor had not asked for, and because Cole’s October despatch on that point showed how little the castle wanted the London society on the Kat. [3] [4]

The chief difficulty the people at the Kat had to contend against was depredations. Xhosa found their way in by night and drove off all cattle that were not strictly guarded. To enable them to defend themselves the government supplied them with muskets and ammunition, greatly to the alarm of the frontier colonists, who feared that these weapons might be used as in the troubles at the beginning of the century. That alarm gained strength when it became known that Xhosa of the clans opposed to Gaika were fraternising with the Khoikhoi and settling among them. No disturbance of the peace took place for many years, but the settlement was not a closed garden. The area allotted was about 400 square miles and bordered on nearly three sides by rugged mountains. Refuge and safe hiding could be found by all intruders. Ordinance Fifty of the 17th of July 1828 prevented the idle from being arrested for vagrancy, and they sturdily refused to leave. The muskets mattered because a freehold Khoikhoi settlement on the old Kat could not hold cattle without them, and because the farmers west of the Fish still remembered how Khoikhoi arms had been used in the risings of 1799 to 1803. [3] [4]

When Maqoma was expelled, his brother Tyali was still in the Ceded Territory, occupying the valley of the Mancazana to the south of the country allotted to the Khoikhoi. Stockenstrom had made it very clear to him that he could be permitted to continue to reside in those parts only on conditions of good behaviour. Nevertheless he was one of the first to harass the Kat River settlers. Botumane and Eno, also illegally occupying lands in the Ceded Territory, were equally active. Within six weeks after Maqoma’s expulsion the whole frontier had again been overrun by parties of marauders, and within about four months nearly 5000 head of cattle had been driven off. Gaika had died on the 14th of November 1829 at his kraal on the Keiskama, near Burnshill, and Sandile, a boy of eight, was the heir, with Maqoma as regent. The settlement therefore stood this year on a January letter of confidence, a missionary at Philipton from May, muskets in Khoikhoi hands, and three chiefs still sitting on ceded ground who had not forgotten Maqoma. [3] [4]

Philip, Fairbairn, and the Restless Chiefs — April–May 1830

The period of calm which followed Cole’s visit to the frontier in 1829 was not of long duration. About April it was evident that the border tribes had again become as restless as ever, and incessant reports of depredations again became the chief feature of eastern life. Tyali recommenced his persecutions on the Kat River Settlement — where Maqoma also continued to hover — besides co-operating with Botumane and Eno in harassing the frontier farmers. On the 8th of April Colonel Somerset reported 20 head of cattle taken from Palmer, 43 from Cawood, horses from Rudwell, and so on with tedious frequency. The cause of this cessation of peaceable conduct was ascribed, whether rightly or wrongly, to a visit of the reverend Dr. John Philip and his son-in-law Mr. John Fairbairn to the Xhosa chiefs about this time. The visit mattered because Philip had just come back from England with recognition the chiefs could hear as a promise, and because any talk of restoring the Ceded Territory struck at the Kat grants and at Cole’s threat of expulsion. [3] [4]

Philip had returned to the colony in October 1829 armed with the recognition he had obtained in England. Conversations now seem to have taken place as led the chiefs to believe that they had been treated unfairly by the government and that he was prepared to make such representations to higher authorities as might result in a restoration to them of the Ceded Territory. The reverend S. Young, at Mount Coke, did not think that the proceedings of the doctor were at all calculated to lead to any good. He seemed to strengthen the idea that they had been unjustly dispossessed of the ceded ground, and pledged himself to do all in his power to have it restored. The general impression on Young’s mind was that the doctor was interfering in such a manner as did not become him as a missionary. The reverend James Weir was frequently asked by his people, Who is Dr. Philip? Is he inkosi or umfundisi — a civil authority or a teacher? The question mattered because a missionary who sounded like a chief could undo in a week the warning Cole had given the clans in 1829: suppress theft, or be expelled as Maqoma had been expelled. [4]

Whether those words had any influence with the chiefs or not, it is quite certain that in May a very defiant attitude was adopted toward patrols and parties going in search of stolen property. One such was neatly surrounded and, abandoning the cattle, escaped with their lives with much difficulty. Somerset was of opinion that it was unsafe for any party of less than 30 men to venture among the Xhosa. In March the military patrols that were engaged in following spoors were threatened by Maqoma and Tyali, and on one occasion a party of 30 soldiers would have been surrounded if they had not made ready to use their muskets to secure a retreat. On that occasion both Maqoma and Tyali had sent their cattle and women to places of safety, and had bands scattered about, each consisting of 400 or 500 armed men. Tyali, in particular, showed so hostile a disposition that it was felt that the time had come to carry the governor’s threat into execution and to compel him also to move across the Keiskama. The defiance mattered because a patrol that could not follow a spoor with fewer than 30 men was no longer a police measure, and because Cole’s 1829 warning was now either to be kept or to be seen as empty. [3] [4]

There was an unfortunate difference of opinion, as there always had been, between Somerset and Stockenstrom on these matters. The commissioner-general saw nothing in the state of the frontier at that time which called for any extraordinary measures on the part of government. Not near the number of cattle reported as stolen, he said on the 12th of May, are actually so stolen, and of what is stolen the greater proportion is lost through the neglect of the owners. Nevertheless he was induced to sanction a commando to go forth to punish Tyali and to recover cattle. By May the east therefore had a superintendent who had sat with the chiefs, a commandant who would not send fewer than 30 men, a commissioner-general who thought the returns inflated, and a threat Cole had made in 1829 that if the clans did not suppress theft they would be expelled as Maqoma had been expelled. [3] [4]

The Commando and the Death of Zeko — June 1830

Once a demonstration against the Xhosa was decided on, the first step was to call out the burghers. This was done by Stockenstrom himself from East Riet River on the 8th of June. The provisional field-cornet was to command from the after-mentioned persons one man armed and mounted fit for burgher duty, and to be present with them on Tuesday evening the 15th instant at Fort Beaufort, there to receive orders from Colonel Somerset. A list of 58 names followed. Those who were neglectful, or had not the fixed number of men on their places, were to be immediately reported, in order that those places might be granted to others. Two points stood on the paper: the disinclination there was to go on commando, indicated by the threat of loss of lands, and that these people were to place themselves under Somerset’s orders. On the day appointed the burghers assembled at Fort Beaufort and then marched to Fort Willshire to join the military. The call mattered because the eastern farms would not send men unless the grant itself was at stake, and because Stockenstrom, who had doubted the returns, now put the burghers under the commandant he so often opposed. [4]

Tyali, in the meantime, discovered what was intended and, foreseeing trouble for himself, offered his assistance in pointing out the places where stolen cattle would be found. This was accepted. Somerset’s orders, bearing date the 16th of June, were in short that all cattle at the kraals visited were to be taken and driven to the commandant, presumably at Fort Willshire, when the colonial cattle would be picked out and those belonging to the Xhosa would be sent back. The Xhosa were to be warned that should they offer any resistance or attempt hostilities, they would be fired upon. The whole force was divided into three divisions. The centre was under Somerset. The right was under Captain Aitcheson of the Cape Mounted Rifles, with Tyali as guide, and therefore destined to be misled and taken to places where cattle were not. The left, consisting of 60 burghers, was under Field-Commandant P. Rasmus Erasmus. Its destination was the kraals of two petty chiefs, Zeko and Jabecco, situated at a short distance from the eastern bank of the Keiskama. The orders mattered because the commando was not licensed to keep Xhosa cattle as compensation: colonial brands were to be sorted at the fort, and the rest returned — if the drive ever reached Willshire intact. [3] [4]

On the evening of the 17th the divisions moved out from Fort Willshire. Erasmus with his men came in sight of Zeko’s huts early the next morning. The Xhosa were on the move and driving away the cattle. The division galloped up and stopped them, and Erasmus interviewed Zeko, explaining to him the business on which they had come. All the cattle, accordingly, were collected, and the return journey was about to commence when Zeko begged that the milch cows might be left or the calves would die. Erasmus permitted this, though he felt he was disobeying the strict letter of his instructions. So far encouraged, Zeko then asked to be allowed to retain some of the oxen, but this could not be permitted. He was told that if he would send a few unarmed men with the commando to the commandant, the Xhosa cattle would be returned to them. This apparently was agreed to, and 18 unarmed men joined the burghers and assisted in driving along about 2500 head. The concession mattered because the milch cows left behind were the opening Zeko used, and because 18 unarmed men on the drive were about to be armed in the bush. [3] [4]

On the recommendation of the natives a different route, which was said to be shorter, was taken. When they had travelled about 6 miles and the country had become more bushy and difficult, armed Xhosa in twos and threes were seen to join the party and to give assegais to their unarmed friends. Later each bush seemed to assume a most threatening aspect, all the more so as the direction they were taking was leading them into a narrow and bushy defile. Zeko himself, who so far had not appeared, now came forward. He approached a burgher named Jan Greyling, whom he knew, and said to him in Dutch that they would not pass the Keiskama that night with cattle; if they did, the river would run with the blood of Boers instead of water. Greyling answered that they would pass the Keiskama that night for all that. Zeko had a bundle of assegais in his left hand and one in his right. This he brandished and jumped into the air as if about to throw it. Greyling told him he must not throw. He then rode forward among the cattle, followed by the chief. That seems to have been the last seen of Zeko alive. [4]

Suddenly there was a loud whistling and shouting away to the front, which was the signal for a general scrimmage. The cattle turned and surged back with such force as to carry burghers and everything before them. Erasmus, who was quite at the rear, had to pull his horse suddenly behind a bush to avoid being run down. No order was given to fire. The first shot seems to have been fired by one John Koch, whose attention was suddenly called by Scheepers to a Xhosa with uplifted assegai about to stab him. Koch fired but did not kill the man. The firing then became general. The confusion which ensued, Erasmus said, was indescribable: the Xhosa whistling and yelling, the burghers shouting, the cattle rushing in one wild troop, goaded to madness by the assegais, the whole enveloped in a thick cloud of dust. In this mêlée Zeko and 6 of his men were shot, and about 1000 head were recaptured by the assailants. The Xhosa then withdrew, and the burghers, with the remaining cattle — some 1600 of the 2500 — made their way to Fort Willshire. On their arrival Erasmus and his men were commended by both Somerset and Stockenstrom. The body of the chief was found with an assegai, which he must have obtained from one of his people just before he fell. The death mattered because a petty captain subject to Tyali had been killed on a cattle drive, not in a declared war, and because the commando that was to sort brands at Willshire came in with a short herd and a corpse. [3] [4]

With reference to the other divisions: the centre took a petty chief Magugu, subject to Maqoma, prisoner, but did not capture any cattle as the Xhosa had succeeded in driving all away. That his kraal was so successfully surprised was due to the Gunukwebe captain Kobe, who acted as guide on the occasion. Magugu was taken to Fort Willshire but was there released. Aitcheson with the right division found every reason to believe that Tyali was misleading and deceiving him; nevertheless a large number of cattle was obtained, but these Tyali claimed as his own. Shortly afterwards Tyali arrived at the fort and claimed a good many of the cattle as his property. He was allowed to drive out those which he selected, until some were identified as belonging to colonists, when he was ordered to desist. It was made clear to him that he would not be permitted to profit by the depredations which he had at least connived at, and further he was told to remove his people entirely from the Mancazana. This event had the effect of diminishing depredations for a time. The June commando therefore left a petty captain dead in the dust of his own herd, a prisoner released at Willshire, and Tyali still sitting in the Mancazana after being told to go. [3] [4]

Gwalana and the Ceded Farms — March–August 1830

To overawe the Gunukwebes Cole had selected a site for a military post at Gwalana, near the place where in 1820 Sir Rufane Donkin had tried to establish the village which he named Fredericksburg. The buildings were constructed under Somerset’s superintendence, and in March of this year a small body of troops was stationed there. The portion of the ceded territory that was not occupied by Xhosa and Khoikhoi the governor resolved to allot to Europeans under military tenure. On the 2nd of August a notice was issued in which the conditions were announced in general terms, and applications for farms were invited. The commissioner-general was instructed to make a careful selection from the applicants, so as to get a body of trustworthy and able men on the ground. The post and the notice mattered because empty ceded ground between the Winterberg and the Fish was still a road for thieves, and because Cole meant to fill it with armed occupiers rather than leave it to chiefs who had already been told to go. [3]

The farms were to be given free of charge or rent. The grantees were to occupy them in person, and to maintain a number of able-bodied Europeans capable of bearing arms, in proportion to the extent of the ground, so that a farm of the ordinary size of 3000 morgen would have at least 4 men upon it. The use of slave labour was prohibited. On these conditions Stockenstrom issued grants between the Winterberg and the junction of the Koonap and Fish rivers to about 100 individuals selected indiscriminately from the families of old colonists and recent British settlers, no other distinction than that of personal qualification being regarded. The terms mattered because a 3000-morgen place with 4 armed Europeans and no slave was a military screen, not a labour estate, and because old Dutch families and 1820 settlers were put on the same ground without preference of origin. [3] [7]

Cole had expressed regret at the error that had been committed of allowing Xhosa to occupy part of the ceded territory again, thus bringing them within easy reach of the jungles along the Fish. With the chiefs of the clans in that district he had had a conference in 1829, when he informed them that he was determined not to tolerate robberies any longer, and warned them that if they did not prevent their followers from stealing he would act with them as he had acted with Maqoma. They protested that they were doing all they could to suppress thefts, but said that among their people were evil-disposed men who would not obey them. The governor, however, had made himself acquainted with their customs, and was aware that if they were really in earnest not an ox could be brought into the territory without their knowing all about it. He did not attempt to argue with them, therefore, but replied that he had said sufficient. The chiefs had seen that he was not to be trifled with, and for several months robbery had nearly ceased. By this year that several months had run out. Gwalana was the post against the Gunukwebes; the August grants were the attempt to put armed Europeans on the empty ground; the June commando had been the demonstration when the chiefs went defiant again. [3] [4]

Trading stations were also scattered thickly over the country beyond the Keiskama. The articles chiefly disposed of were blankets, beads, metal buttons, brass wire, iron pots, axes, picks, and knives. Barter was accompanied by a great deal of talking. A man would not exchange a hide for a blanket until he had consulted a dozen of his friends who accompanied him, each of whom examined the article minutely. When at length the exchange was made, the trader gave a little tobacco or red ochre as a present, for until this ceremony was completed the purchaser was held at liberty to alter his mind. Anything like a real friendly feeling between the Xhosa and the colonists was prevented by the constant depredations upon the farmers’ herds. Hides and skins had now come to rank next in value to wine in the list of exports, a large proportion obtained from beyond the eastern border and from the Griquas north of the Orange. Wool had passed the experimental stage. By 1829 the production on the farm of Mr. Michiel van Breda and Mr. Jan Frederik Reitz at Zoetendal’s Vlei was about 6 tons, worth in Capetown 18 pence a pound. The trade mattered because hides from beyond the Keiskama now stood next to wine on the export list, while the western clip had already proved that merino paid — and because neither fact quieted a frontier that still lost cattle by night. [3]

St George’s, the Zuid-Afrikaan, and Sir Lowry’s Pass — April–November 1830

During the government of Cole greater changes took place in the appearance of Capetown than during any previous period of equal length since the erection of the castle. Shortly after the press ordinance of the 30th of April 1829 quite a number of newspapers and other periodicals had sprung into existence, but most of them were short-lived. One newspaper that remained was the Zuid-Afrikaan, partly in Dutch and partly in English, which was commenced in Capetown on the 9th of April of this year. The ordinance had removed from the government the power of interfering with the press, and referred to the judges of the supreme court the decision whether matter was libellous or not. Three years after the petition of 1827, another to the same effect, praying for a representative assembly, was presented to the Commons by Lord Milton on the 24th of May. Sir George Murray, then secretary of state for the colonies, immediately opposed it, as in his view it would be the means of setting the Dutch and English colonists at variance, and would attempt by legislation to oppress the slaves and the Khoikhoi. His remarks decided the fate of the petition. The Wellington ministry retained office until November of this year. Then Earl Grey became premier, and Viscount Goderich again secretary for the colonies. The sheet and the petition mattered because the Cape now printed in Dutch and English without the castle’s leave, and because London still refused the colonists a house of their own on the ground that Dutch and English would use it against each other and against the coloured people. [3]

The members of the English episcopal communion still made use of the Dutch reformed church. In August 1829 it had been resolved at a meeting of the members to try to raise a portion of the capital in shares, to be repaid from pew rents, and 250 shares of 25 pounds each being taken, on the 1st of September of that year an ordinance of the governor in council had been issued, giving legal sanction to the plan, and granting 5000 pounds from the colonial treasury toward the building fund. On the 23rd of April of this year the foundation stone of the church — which was named St. George’s — was laid by Cole. On the following day, at the request of the trustees of the new building, the street upon which it was to face was renamed by the governor St. George’s-street. It had borne the name of Berg-street for more than 140 years. The church would not be opened for public worship until December 1834. What this year put into the ground was the stone, and what it put on the map was a new name for an old street. The stone mattered because the English congregation in Capetown would no longer have to borrow the Dutch nave, and because a street older than the British occupation took a saint’s name the day after the foundation. [3]

Cole was extremely desirous of facilitating the means of communication between different parts of the colony, but there was no money in the treasury that could be used for this purpose. Without good roads, he wrote, the country could never become prosperous. Major Charles Cornwallis Michell, the surveyor-general, having occasion to go over the Hottentots-Holland mountains, was instructed by the governor to inspect the road carefully and report whether it could not be made safe at a moderate outlay. There were two other passages through the first great barrier to the interior: one, the French Hoek road, constructed by order of Lord Charles Somerset, the other, the old road through the Tulbagh kloof. But the passage over the Hottentots-Holland mountains was so much more direct for people living along the southern coast that in their intercourse with Capetown they almost invariably used it, even at the risk of having their waggons broken and their cattle killed. Michell reported that at an expense of about 7000 pounds a perfectly safe road, with easy gradients, could be made. The inspection mattered because the southern coast still chose a mountain that broke waggons rather than the longer kloof roads, and because the treasury had no surplus with which to pay for the fix. [3]

Upon this the governor gave instructions for the work to be undertaken, and wrote to the secretary of state that he was confident the cost would soon be repaid by a toll. In reply Murray declined to sanction it or any other public work whatever while the revenue of the colony was insufficient to meet the ordinary expenditure, and threatened to surcharge the governor with the expense already incurred. The principal merchants of Capetown then offered to guarantee the governor against personal loss; but the secretary of state, upon further representations of the great utility of the road, was induced to allow it to be made. Practically it was constructed with borrowed money, as the deficiency of the revenue was made good by drawing upon the capital of the bank, and thus increasing the public debt. The new road cost 7011 pounds. It was opened for traffic by Michell on the 6th of July, and was named Sir Lowry’s Pass, amid the acclamations of a large number of people who had assembled to see a train of heavily laden waggons go over it, which they did with the greatest ease. The road was subsequently continued through Houwhoek. A toll was placed upon it, which more than realised the governor’s expectations. The expenditure of the colony continued to be in excess of the revenue, though in June 1828 the imperial government had taken over the charge of the Cape mounted riflemen, and Cole, like Bourke, was obliged to draw upon the capital of the loan bank. The pass mattered because the southern coast could now reach Capetown without killing oxen on the mountain, because Murray had first refused and then allowed it, and because the 7011 pounds came out of the bank’s capital, not out of a surplus. [3]

At this time savings banks were established in the colony in design if not yet in ordinance. There was previously a department of the government bank open for the reception of small sums of money, termed the savings bank branch, but in principle it did not differ from the other depositing branch. At a meeting held in the commercial hall on the 22nd of November, resolutions were adopted in favour of the formation of savings banks on the same principle as those in England, and a committee was appointed to carry out the project. The government approved of the design. The meeting mattered because small sums still had nowhere to go but the government bank, and because the commercial hall now meant to copy the English Saturday-evening counter — though the ordinance itself was not yet this year’s work. [3]

The Slave Order and Mackay against Philip — February–November 1830

The quiet following the commotion caused by the nineteenth ordinance had not been permitted by His Majesty’s Government to be of long duration. A desire for greater uniformity in slavery legislature induced the British Parliament to revise and consolidate the various colonial enactments. The Order of the King in Council for consolidating the several laws recently made for improving the condition of the slaves of his Majesty’s colonies was issued in February of this year, and came into force in the Cape Colony in the following August. To the slave owners in this colony, in view of what had so recently happened, this appeared to be a deliberate attempt to irritate them by rendering the possession of slaves an impossibility. Even the governor himself described it as a law to many of the provisions of which obedience was impossible, and which, though apparently recognising the right of property in slaves, virtually denied it by placing in the way of the slave holders such obstacles in the management of their slaves as to render that species of property worse than useless. The order mattered because it was not a Cape ordinance but a London consolidation forced on every slave colony, and because Cole, who had to enforce it, said obedience to many of its clauses was impossible. [4] [7]

At this time the nineteenth ordinance was found to be working satisfactorily in the interests of all, and therefore to have let well alone seemed more conducive to peace and order than the promulgation of the new and additional elaborations. The greatest excitement and anger again prevailed. Very great objection was taken to a necessary regulation, namely, that each slave owner should keep a book in which were to be recorded the details of every case of punishment he had inflicted upon any of his slaves, and further that this book should be taken to the Protector of Slaves twice in each year for the perusal of that officer. Many of the slave owners were determined to suffer the penalties prescribed rather than comply with this. Manumissions in this year numbered 102. In 1829 they had numbered 153; the total from 1816 through this year was 707. In Capetown and other towns a society had been founded to purchase the freedom of young girls. The slow and gradual working of these methods of liberation did not satisfy the philanthropists in England, who were meanwhile themselves doing nothing else for the slaves than passing, year after year, a mass of legislative enactments providing restrictions and penalties for the owners. The book mattered because a twice-yearly inspection of every punishment was, to the owners, an admission that the Protector and not the household governed the slave, and because 102 manumissions in a year did not meet the demand in London for a faster end. [4] [7]

Philip had soon found that some of the statements in the Researches in South Africa were not to be allowed to pass unchallenged. Mr. William Macdonald Mackay, the deputy landdrost of Somerset East, brought an action for libel on account of the matter contained on pages 353 to 355 of the first volume. It was to the effect that he had employed a Khoikhoi to bring some goods, including a cask of Cape brandy, from another village in a waggon; that on the journey the man discovered the liquor and converted part of it to his own use; that he was flogged and imprisoned and further, on his release, contracted with his wife and family to a person in Somerset for three years at 10 rixdollars — 15 shillings — per annum, this pay to be handed over to Mackay as compensation for the stolen brandy; and that Mackay had managed to get two Khoikhoi families contracted to himself for three years at 15 rixdollars per annum. The functionary in question was neither a Dutchman nor an African, but a British military officer, and a special favourite at that time of the colonial government. The action mattered because the book had been printed in London, and because a Cape court was now asked to say whether a libel published in England could be tried where the man named still sat as a magistrate. [4]

The case excited great interest throughout the colony, because it was felt that not only was it Mackay who was concerned but that the statements were slanders upon all in similar positions who were innocent of any such charges. It came on for hearing in March before Sir John Wylde, Mr. Justice Menzies and Mr. Justice Burton, and continued at intervals until the 16th of July. The attorney-general, Mr. Anthony Oliphant, was for the plaintiff and advocate Cloete for Philip. Much time was spent as a preliminary in arguing the exceptio fori declinatoria. Philip maintained that as the supposed grievance had been committed outside the colony, that court was incompetent to deal with it. He wished to have it transferred to the Court of King’s Bench in London. The exception was disallowed and the trial proceeded upon the merits. Mr. Wilberforce Bird stated that though he had been presented by Philip with a copy of the Researches he nevertheless had read the copy which he found in the South African Public Library. Mr. George Greig said that he had the book in his circulating library, that it came to him from his agent in London in the ordinary course of business, that it had been widely circulated among his subscribers, and that it had created considerable excitement. [4]

For the defence it was argued that the book had been printed and published in London, that it was not intended for sale in the colony, and that the statements concerning Mackay had been obtained by Philip from Mr. John Pringle. Burton held that proof of publication in the colony was unnecessary and that publication in England had been proved. He was of opinion that if a man fires off a gun and the bullet does damage at a distance of a mile that man is equally liable for the consequences as he would be had the bullet taken effect at the muzzle. On this principle Philip was responsible for damage done in the colony by statements published in England. In summing up the court held that not only had the defendant failed to prove his plea of justification but that the evidence disproved the truth of every material allegation in the libel. Wylde considered it a false and malicious libel, Burton a slander and falsehood, and Menzies utterly without foundation. Judgment was given for the plaintiff for 200 pounds and costs, and the court ordered these costs to be taxed in such a manner as to show how it was that so large a bill had been incurred, in order that what had been occasioned by the vexatious and improper proceedings of the defendant might not be attributed to the system which then obtained in the colony. The judgment mattered because a Cape bench now treated an English book as a gun fired in London that struck in Somerset, and because 200 pounds and costs were a public finding that the brandy story was false. [4]

In pursuance of instructions from Downing Street, Cole in November instituted an inquiry into the lands of Theopolis. A commission was appointed consisting of Captain Duncan Campbell, the civil commissioner of Albany, and Lieutenant Hope on behalf of the government, a Mr. Thomas Phillips and the reverend G. Barker, the missionary at Theopolis, on behalf of Philip, together with two land surveyors. The results of the investigation were that there had been no encroachment whatever on the Theopolis lands. But with respect to the diagram which Philip had published in his book, it was discovered that Philip himself, together with a Mr. Wright, a teacher at Theopolis, had actually made the alterations on their copy of the original and published it in its garbled state, with the government surveyor’s name still attached. The commission mattered because London had ordered the ground measured, because the measurement found no theft of mission land, and because the published diagram was the mission’s own alteration of a government plan. [4]

Clarkebury, Buntingville, and Dingane’s Ivory — April–December 1830

Of late years mission stations had been greatly multiplied beyond the Keiskama. The London society had one where King William’s Town now stands, and one at Knappshope on the Keiskama. The Glasgow society had one near the source of the Tyumie, another at old Lovedale farther down the same river, a third at Burnshill on the Keiskama, and a fourth at Perie near one of the sources of the Buffalo. The Wesleyan society had one at Wesleyville on a feeder of the Tshalumna, one at Mount Coke on the Buffalo, one at Butterworth with the Gcaleka, founded in July 1827, one at Morley with a clan of mixed European and Mpondo origin, founded in May 1829, one at Clarkebury with the Thembu, founded in April of this year, and one at Buntingville with the Mpondo, founded in November of this year. The Moravian society had one at Shiloh with the emigrant Thembu under Bawana, founded in 1828. Until this year the following Wesleyan stations were in active operation: Mount Coke, near the Buffalo in Ndlambe’s country; Butterworth among Hintsa’s people; the Thembu station near the Bashee among the tribe of Vusani; Morley near the Umtata; and the Mambookie station near the Umzimvubu among the tribe of Faku. In addition there were the Plattberg station in the far north near the Vaal among the Barolong, and the Boetsap station in the Griqua country. At each of these there was a preacher with an assistant. The reverend William Shaw, besides looking after his own station of Wesleyville, acted as superintendent of all. The new stations mattered because Clarkebury put a Wesleyan among Vusani’s Thembu in April, and because Buntingville in November carried the same chain to Faku on the Umzimvubu. [3] [4]

At Natal the Europeans at the port had been invited by Dingane to remain there under his protection for commercial purposes, and they had been well pleased to do so. After Farewell’s death in September 1829, John Cane and Henry Ogle had divided his people between them. Of all who had embarked in the Elizabeth and Susan for Algoa Bay, only Nathaniel Isaacs saw Natal again. In April of this year he returned in an American trading vessel. The return mattered because the port’s English residents now sat under Dingane’s leave, not Tshaka’s, and because only one of the schooner’s company came back to the bay. [3] [7]

In October Dingane sent John Cane and Thomas Holstead with Hlambamanzi and 6 Zulus to greet the governor of the Cape Colony in his name, and to deliver a few tusks of ivory as a present. The party reached Grahamstown on the 21st of December, after a journey of 70 days from the Tugela. There they were detained until the governor’s pleasure could be made known, and it was decided eventually that they should not proceed farther. It was also thought advisable to decline the present of ivory, lest its acceptance might lead to incorrect impressions on the part of the Zulu ruler. Cane and his associates returned to Natal, when the unsatisfactory account which they gave of their mission irritated Dingane greatly. Mr. James Collis visited Natal in this year. The embassy mattered because a Zulu king now asked to be received at the castle, and because Grahamstown turned the tusks back so that acceptance should not be read as alliance or tribute. [3]

Colesberg, Grahamstown, and the Orange Islands — 1830

In the extreme north of the colony the reverend Andrew Murray of Graaff-Reinet had for a considerable time been in the habit of holding periodical services at a place indifferently called Torenberg and Toverberg, four days’ hard riding from Graaff-Reinet. In 1827 Stockenstrom had allotted 18000 morgen of the Torenberg lands for church purposes. Cole approved of this and granted the land in freehold to the churchwardens, who thus had the right to sell erven for the benefit of the church. A township was laid out, and the place was named Colesberg in honour of the governor. The corner-stone of the church was laid on the 25th of August by Mr. W. C. van Ryneveld, the civil commissioner of Graaff-Reinet. On the 29th of November the first building lots were sold. As no resident authority was stationed at the new township, it became, for a time at least, the rendezvous of the illicit trader whose brandy and gunpowder were attractions for the worst of the Bastards or Griquas and Koranas. Cole regretted that he had no power to station there a stipendiary magistrate without reference to the secretary of state, but he was willing to appoint as justice of the peace any individual who was sufficiently respectable to be entrusted with that office. The town mattered because a church grant of 18000 morgen now had a name and a corner-stone, and because without a magistrate the same lots that paid the church also drew brandy and powder to the Orange. [3] [4]

Cradock, on the eastern bank of the Great Fish, was still an outpost of Somerset East, a tiny village of not more than about 30 houses, most of them very small and of the wattle-and-daub character. In this year the governor sanctioned the expenditure of 500 rixdollars — 37 pounds 10 shillings — on the construction of a dam across the river in order to supply the village with water, and also gave some assistance toward erecting the small building which was used as a church and school. The chief centre of development in the eastern province during the early thirties was Grahamstown. A horticultural society came into existence, and a benevolent society, under the name of the Albany Brethren, was formed in April. Steps were taken to establish a municipality on the 9th of March, though this was not effected until 1837, and the governor sanctioned the expenditure of 362 pounds on the construction of bridges, water-courses, and the planting of trees. The outlay mattered because Cradock still drew water by a dam the governor paid for in rixdollars, and because Grahamstown could vote a municipality on paper in March without yet getting one. [4]

For some time past the northern border of the colony had been subject to the ravages of a band who had their stronghold on the islands in the Orange river between Olivenhoutdrift and the great falls. Between Jonker Afrikaner and the occupants of the islands in this year there was no connection whatever. The leader of the later robber band was a Khoikhoi named Stuurman, who had in earlier years been connected with one of the Griqua settlements. His followers were chiefly Koranas and Griquas, but among them were several fugitive slaves and desperadoes of mixed blood. He attacked indiscriminately the Batlhaping in the north, the farmers of the colony in the south, and the Griquas under Andries Waterboer in the east. In times of drought and locusts — and this year was very bad in this respect — the colonial Boers were compelled to seek pasturage for their cattle in these northern regions or to lose all by starvation. Hence with their families they trekked north and remained there many months at a time, until rain had resuscitated the grass in their own parts. This naturally brought them into conflict with the people whose cattle competed for the same pastures. The whole country on the north side of the Orange was a waste occupied only by bands of robbers under no other control than that which could be exercised by the small personal influence of Waterboer, Adam Kok, and the missionaries. The drought mattered because Boers who left their own grass for the Orange walked into Stuurman’s range, and because neither Waterboer nor Kok had the force to police the islands. [3] [4]