four four thousand warriors. He had to decide between standing on the defensive behind the Tugela, or to cross the river and carry the war into the enemy's country. The Tugela, which was unusually high, was an obstacle to the Zulus; but Thesiger was unwilling to trust to the protection of so uncertain a barrier, and he determined, therefore, to advance into Zululand. The campaign began with the catastrophe at Isandlwana (22 Jan.) and ended triumphantly at Ulundi (4 July). Frere's responsibility ended when General Thesiger crossed the Tugela (11 Jan.) But he was not the man to throw off all participation in measures because his responsibility in them had ceased. When the news of Isandlwana reached Natal, he was still on the spot, and he exerted himself to the utmost to calm the panic which took possession of the settlers in anticipation of the momentarily expected invasion of the victorious Zulus. He directed measures for the defence of the colony, and appealed to England for reinforcements. So soon as he learned that fresh troops were on their way, he started for the Transvaal, whence disquieting rumours had reached him of the attitude of the Boers. Already the Boer forces were collected in camp, and every day it was expected that they would take the field. Accompanied by a small staff and an escort of twenty-five men, Frere rode 350 miles, a part of the way being through Zulu territory, to the Boer camp. He had left his escort at the frontier, and presented himself at the gate of the encampment, attended only by his staff (12 April). In spite of opposition and threats he rode into the camp, and invited the ringleaders to meet him in Pretoria to talk over their grievances. These he found to be genuine and great. The promises made by Sir T. Shepstone, ‘upon the strength of which the inhabitants of the late republic were willing to give a peaceable trial to the new order of things,’ had not been fulfilled, and the Boers found that they had given up their independence in exchange for delusive benefits. On condition that the Boers dispersed, Frere undertook to represent their complaints to the English government, and to urge the fulfilment of the promises which had been made to them.
Meanwhile in England the time for the general election was approaching. Many causes combined to make the Zulu war a favourable subject for attack. Frere was unsparingly assailed. The government met this by a despatch censuring Frere for his conduct in relation to the Zulu war, and announced what they had done in the House of Commons before informing the high commissioner of the fact. By this strange and happily unusual course it happened that a Reuter's telegram first made Frere aware of the reflections which had been cast upon his character. Fortunately he had already come to terms with the Boers before the arrival of the telegram. In striking contrast with the estimate formed of his conduct of affairs by English politicians, the inhabitants of the districts through which he passed on his return to the Cape vied with each other in doing honour to one who was ready to sacrifice himself for the good of his country, and who was willing to risk his life to save his countrymen from the horrors of war. His journey southward was one continued ovation, and on arriving at Cape Town his horses were taken from his carriage and he was drawn by the populace to Government House. But bad news was awaiting him. On 1 June the Prince Imperial had met his death in Zululand, and almost at the same time the news arrived that Frere had been superseded in the office of high commissioner by Sir Garnet Wolseley, who was on his way to take command of the forces in South Africa. Frere, who remained governor of the Cape, was officially informed that this arrangement was intended to last for six months only, but when at the end of the Zulu war Wolseley was succeeded by Sir George Pomeroy Colley [q. v.], the same high office was continued to him to the exclusion of Frere. Many of Frere's friends were surprised that the slights thus put upon him did not cause him to resign his post. But Frere had not gone out to Africa for his own advantage, and so long as he believed he had work to do and power to do it, he felt bound to remain at his post. ‘What,’ asked a friend, ‘will remain when you are superseded in the midst of your great work?’ ‘My integrity,’ was the answer.
In the following spring Mr. Gladstone directed much of his oratory in Midlothian against Frere's conduct in South Africa, and charged him with having advocated an invasion of Afghanistan. In a remarkably temperate and able paper Frere urged on the colonial secretary the justice of contradicting this statement, for his position as an official rendered him unable publicly to justify himself. The contradiction, however, was not given, and it was left to Frere after his return to England to reply to the charges in a correspondence with Mr. Gladstone.
In July 1880 Frere was recalled, and he returned to England to find that the exigencies of party strife had estranged from him men who sat on both sides of the speaker's chair. Conscious of his integrity he was able to regard with comparative indifference the coldness with which he was
