It may be remembered how the news of Langalibalele's rebellion, trial and punishment gradually reached England, how at first we feared that a great rebel had arisen, to conquer whom would require us to put out all our powers, and then how we were moved by the outraged philanthropist to think that a grievous injustice had been done. I cannot but say that in both matters we allowed ourselves to be swayed by exaggerated reports and unwarranted fears and sympathies. Langalibalele did rebel and had to be punished. His trial was no doubt informal and overformal. Too much was made of it. The fault throughout has been that too much has been made of the whole affair. Partisans arose on behalf of the now notorious and very troublesome old Pagan, and philanthropy was outraged. Then came the necessity of doing something to set right an acknowledged wrong. It might be that Langalibalele had had cause for suspicion when he stripped the Queen's Messenger. It might be that the running away was the natural effect of fear, and that the subsequent tragedies had been simply unfortunate. The trial was adjudged to have been conducted with overstrained rigour and the punishment to have been too severe. Therefore it was decided in England that he should be sent back to the mainland from the island, that he should be located in the neighbourhood of Capetown,—and that his tribe should be allowed to join him.
That was promising too much. It was found to be inconvenient to settle a whole tribe of a new race in the Cape Colony. Nor was it apparent that the tribe would wish to move after its Chieftain. Then it was decided that instead of
