the days of my life

第21部分 (第1/7頁)

In　the　autumn　of　1878　Sir　Bartle　Frere；　the　High　missioner　for　South　Africa；　had　arrived　in　Natal；　and　towards　the　end　of　the　year　—　I　think　it　was　in　November　—　he　issued　his　famous　ultimatum　to　the　Zulus。

Respecting　Sir　Bartle　as　I　do；　and　agreeing　with　him　generally　as　I　do；　and　sympathising　with　him　from　the　bottom　of　my　heart　as　to　the　shameless　treatment　which　he　received　from　the　British　party　politicians　after　his　policy　seemed　to　have　failed　and　the　British　arms　had　suffered　defeat；　I　still　think；　perhaps　erroneously；　that　this　ultimatum　was　a　mistake。　Although　the　argument　is　all　on　his　side；　I　incline　to　the　view　that　it　would　have　been　wiser　to　remonstrate　with　the　Zulus　and　trust　to　the　doctrine　of　chances　—　for　this　reason：　neither　Cetewayo　nor　his　people　wished　to　fight　the　English；　had　Cetewayo　wished　it　he　would　have　swept　Natal　from　end　to　end　after　our　defeat　at　Isandhlwana。　But　what　I　heard　he　said　at　the　time　was　to　this　effect：　“The　English　are　attacking　me　in　my　country；　and　I　will　defend　myself　in　my　country。　I　will　not　send　my　impis　to　kill　them　in　Natal；　because　I　and　those　who　went　before　me　have　always　been　good　friends　with　the　English。”　So　it　came　about　that　he　forbade　his　generals　to　cross　the　boundary　of　Natal。

Whichever　view　may　be　right；　the　fact　remains　that　the　ultimatum　was　issued　and　from　that　moment　war　became　inevitable。　Our　generals　and　soldiers　entered　on　it　with　the　lightest　hearts；　notwithstanding　the　difficulties　and　scarcity　of　transport　they　even　took　with　them　their　cricketing　outfit　into　Zululand。　This　I　know；　since　I　was　missioned　to　bring　home　a　wicket　that　was　found　on　the　field　of　Isandhlwana；　and　return　it　to　the　headquarters　of　the　regiment　to　which　it　belonged；　to　be　kept　as　a　relic。　The　disaster