CHAPTER SIX
THE MIGRATION OF THE PEOPLES
I: CANADA AND SOUTH AFRICA
OCCUPATION OF THE EMPTY LANDS OF THE GLOBE WAS
VIOLENTLY accelerated by the fall of Napoleon. The long struggle
against France had stifled or arrested the expansion of the
English-speaking peoples, and the ships and the men who might have
founded the second British Empire had been consumed in twenty years
of world war. A generation of men and women had toiled or fought in
their factories or on their farms, in the fleets and in the armies,
and only a very few had had either the wish or the opportunity to
seek a new life and new fortunes overseas. Their energies and their
hopes had been concentrated on survival and on victory. There had
been no time for dreams of emigration, and no men to spare if it
had been possible. Suddenly all this was changed by the decision at
Waterloo. Once again the oceans were free. No enemies threatened in
Europe. Ships need no longer sail in convoy, and the main outlines
of the continents had been charted. Once more the New World offered
an escape from the hardships and frustrations of the Old. The war
was over. Fares were cheap and transport was plentiful. The result
was the most spectacular migration of human beings of which history
has yet had record and a vast enrichment of the trade and industry
of Great Britain.
Of course the process took time to gather way, and
at first the flow of emigrants was very small. But the road had
been pointed by the grim convict settlements in Australia, by the
loyalists from the United States who had moved to Canada, and by
traders, explorers, missionaries, and whalers all over the
temperate zones of the earth. News began to spread among the masses
that fertile unoccupied and habitable lands still existed, in which
white men could dwell in peace and liberty, and perhaps could even
better themselves. The increasing population of Great Britain added
to the pressure. In 1801 it was about eleven millions. Thirty years
later it was sixteen millions, and by 1871 it was ten millions
more. Fewer people died at birth or in early childhood, and it has
been established by a recent authority that despite the Industrial
Revolution, London was a healthier place to live in than rural
Prussia or Bourbon Paris. The numbers grew, and the flow began: in
the 1820’s a quarter of a million emigrants, in the 1830’s half a
million, by the middle of the century a million and a half, until
sixty-five years after Waterloo no fewer than eight million people
had left the British Isles.
The motives, methods, and character of the movement
were very different from those which had sustained the Pilgrim
Fathers and the Stuart plantations of the seventeenth century.
Famine drove at least a million Irishmen to the United States and
elsewhere. Gold lured hardy fortune-hunters to Australia, and to
the bleak recesses of Canada, where they discovered a more
practical if less respectable El Dorado than had dazzled the
Elizabethan adventurers. Hunger for land and for the profits of the
wool trade beckoned the more sober and well-to-do. All this was
largely accomplished in the face of official indifference and
sometimes of hostility. The American War of Independence had
convinced most of the ruling classes in Britain that colonies were
undesirable possessions. They did not even have a departmental
Secretary of State of their own until 1854. The Government was
interested in strategic bases, but if ordinary people wanted to
settle in the new lands then let them do so. It might cure
unemployment and provide posts for penniless noblemen, but the
sooner these communities became completely independent the better
and cheaper for the tax-payer in England. Anyway, Greece was more
interesting news than New Zealand, and the educated public were
much more concerned about the slave-trade than the squalors of the
emigrant ships. Thus, as in India, the Second British Empire was
founded almost by accident, and with small encouragement from any
of the main political parties.

Of the new territories Canada was the most
familiar and the nearest in point of distance to the United
Kingdom. Her Maritime Provinces had long sent timber to Britain,
and rather than return with empty holds the shipowners were content
to transport emigrants for a moderate fare. Once they landed
however the difficulties and the distances were very great. The
Maritime Provinces lived a life very much of their own, and many
emigrants chose to push on into Lower Canada, or, as it is now
called, the Province of Quebec. Pitt in 1791 had sought to solve
the racial problems of Canada by dividing her into two parts. In
Lower Canada the French were deeply rooted, a compact, alien
community, led by priests and seigneurs, uninterested and untouched
by the democratic ideas of liberal or revolutionary Europe, and
holding stubbornly like the Boers in South Africa to their own
traditions and language. Beyond them, to the north-west, lay Upper
Canada, the modern Province of Ontario, settled by some of the
sixty thousand Englishmen who had left the United States towards
the end of the eighteenth century rather than live under the
American republic. These proud folk had out of devotion to the
British Throne abandoned most of their possessions, and been
rewarded with the unremunerative but honourable title of United
Empire Loyalists. The Mohawk tribe, inspired by the same
sentiments, had journeyed with them. They had hacked a living space
out of the forests, and dwelt lonely and remote, cut off from Lower
Canada by the rapids of the St Lawrence, and watchful against
incursions from the United States. Then there was a vast emptiness
till one reached a few posts on the Pacific which traded their
wares to China.
These communities, so different in tradition,
character, and race, had been rallied into temporary unity by
invasion from the United States. French, English, and Red Indians
all fought against the Americans, and repulsed them in the
three-year struggle between 1812 and 1814. Then trouble began. The
French in Lower Canada feared that the immigrants would outnumber
and dominate them. The Loyalists in Upper Canada welcomed new
settlers who would increase the price of land but were reluctant to
treat them as equals. Moreover, the two Provinces started to
quarrel with each other. Upper Canada’s external trade had to pass
through Lower Canada, and there pay taxes, and disputes occurred
about sharing the proceeds. Differences over religion added to the
irritations. From about 1820 the Assembly in Lower Canada began to
behave like the Parliaments of the early Stuarts and the
legislatures of the American colonies, refusing to vote money for
the salaries of royal judges and permanent officials. French
politicians made vehement speeches. In Upper Canada the new
settlers struggled for political equality with the Loyalists.
Liberals wanted to make the executive responsible to the Assembly
and talked wildly of leaving the Empire, and in 1836 the Assembly
in which they held a majority was dissolved.
In the following year both Provinces rebelled,
Lower Canada for a month and Upper Canada for a week. There were
mobs, firing by troops, shifty compromises, and very few
executions. Everything was on a small scale and in a minor key, and
no great harm was done, but it made the British Government realise
that Canadian affairs required attention. The Whig leaders in
London were wiser than George III. They perceived that a tiny
minority of insurgents could lead to great troubles, and in 1838
Lord Durham was sent to investigate, assisted by Edward Gibbon
Wakefield. His instructions were vague and simple, “To put things
right,” and meanwhile the Canadian constitution was suspended by
Act of Parliament. Durham was a Radical, brilliant, decisive, and
hot-tempered. Wakefield was an active theorist on Imperial affairs
whose misconduct with a couple of heiresses had earned him a prison
sentence and compelled him to spend the rest of his public life
behind the scenes. Durham stayed only a few months. His high-handed
conduct in dealing with disaffected Canadians aroused much
criticism of him at Westminster. Feeling himself deserted by Lord
Melbourne’s Government, with which he was personally unpopular, but
which should nevertheless have stood by him, Durham resigned and
returned to England. He then produced, or at least lent his name
to, the famous report in which he diagnosed and proclaimed the root
causes of the trouble and advocated representative government,
carried on by Ministers chosen from the popular Assembly, a united
Canada, and planned settlement of the unoccupied lands. These
recommendations were largely put into effect by the Canada Act of
1840, which was the work of Lord John Russell.
Thereafter Canada’s progress was swift and
peaceful. Her population had risen from about half a million in
1815 to a million and a quarter in 1838. A regular steamship
service with the British Isles and cheap transatlantic postage were
established in the same year. There were hesitations and doubts in
England at the novel idea of making colonies almost completely free
and allowing their democratic Assemblies to choose and eject their
own Ministers, but the appointment of Durham’s son-in-law, Lord
Elgin, as Governor-General in 1847 was decisive. Elgin believed,
like Durham, that the Governor should represent the sovereign and
remain in the background of politics. He appointed and dismissed
Ministers according to the wishes of the Assembly. For this he was
blamed or applauded, and even pelted with eggs and stones,
according to how it pleased or angered either side. But when he
laid down his office seven years later the principle had been
firmly accepted by Canadians of all persuasions that popular power
must march with popular responsibility, that Ministers must govern
and be obeyed so long as they enjoyed the confidence of the
majority and should resign when they had lost it. There was hardly
any talk now of leaving the Empire or dividing Canada into separate
and sovereign units or joining the American Republic. On the
contrary, the Oregon Treaty with the United States in 1846 extended
the 49th parallel right across the continent as a
boundary between the two countries and gave the whole of Vancouver
Island to Great Britain. How the treaty was concluded is related
elsewhere in this volume.
In the mid-century a movement for the federation of
all the Canadian Provinces began to grow and gather support. The
Civil War in the United States helped to convince Canadians that
all was not perfect in their neighbours’ constitution, and the
victory of the North also aroused their fears that the exultant
Union might be tempted to extend its borders farther still. Canada
had already turned her gaze westwards. Between the Province of
Ontario and the Rocky Mountains lay a thousand miles of territory,
uninhabited save by a few settlers in Manitoba, a roaming-place for
Indians, trappers and wild animals. It was a temptation, so it was
argued, to the land-hunger of the United States. Discharged Irish
soldiers from the Civil War had already made armed raids across the
border which Congress had declared itself powerless to arrest.
Might not the Americans press forward, occupy these vacant lands by
stealth, and even establish a kind of squatter’s right to the
prairies? The soil was believed to be fertile and was said to offer
a living for white men. In 1867 America purchased the remote and
forbidding expanse of Alaska from the Russians for the sum of
7,200,000 dollars, but here, on the door-step of the Republic, lay
a prize which seemed much more desirable and was very easy of
access. No one ruled over it except the Hudson’s Bay Company,
founded in the reign of Charles II, and the Company, believing that
agriculture would imperil its fur-trade, was both hostile to
settlers and jealous of its own authority. Eleven years before
however the discovery of gold on the Fraser River had precipitated
a rush of fortune-hunters to the Pacific coast. The Company’s
officials had proved powerless to control the turmoil, and the
Government in London had been compelled to extend the royal
sovereignty to this distant shore. Thus was born the Crown colony
of British Columbia, which soon united with the Island of Vancouver
and demanded and obtained self-rule. But between it and Ontario lay
a No-man’s-land, and something must be done if it was not to fall
into the hands of the United States. How indeed could Canada remain
separate from America and yet stay alive?
These considerations prompted the British North
America Act of 1867, which created the first of the self-governing
British Dominions beyond the seas. The Provinces of Ontario,
Quebec, New Brunswick, and Nova Scotia were the founding members.
They adopted a federal constitution of a very different shape from
that of the United States. All powers not expressly reserved to the
Provinces of Canada were assumed by the central Government: the
Governor-General, representing the monarch, ruled through Ministers
drawn from the majority in her Canadian House of Commons, and
Members of the House were elected in numbers proportionate to the
population they represented. Thus the way was made easy for the
absorption of new territories and Provinces, and on the eve of her
Railway Age and westward expansion the political stability of
Canada was assured.
When the Parliament of the new Dominion first met,
its chief anxiety was about the Western lands. Its members looked
to the future, and it is convenient here to chart the results of
their foresight. The obvious, immediate step was to buy out the
Hudson’s Bay Company. This was done two years later for the sum of
£300,000. The Company kept its trading rights, and indeed retains
them to this day, but it surrendered its territorial sovereignty to
the Crown. The process was not accomplished without bloodshed.
There was a brief revolt in Manitoba, where wild Indian half-breeds
thought that their freedom was endangered, but order was soon
restored. Manitoba became a Province of the Dominion in 1870, and
in the next year British Columbia was also admitted. By themselves
however these constitutional steps would not have sufficed to bind
the broad stretches of Canada together. The challenging task that
faced the Dominion was to settle and develop her empty Western
lands before the immigrant tide from America could flood across the
49th parallel. The answer was to build a
transcontinental railway.
When the Maritime Provinces joined the federation
they had done so on condition they were linked with Ontario by
rail, and after nine years of labour a line was completed in 1876.
British Columbia made the same demand and received the same
promise. It proved much more difficult to fulfil. Capital was
scarce, investors were timid, politics were tangled, and much of
the country was unknown. At length however a Scotsman, Donald
Smith, better known as Lord Strathcona, carried out the plan. His
Company demanded ten years. Helped by Government funds, they
finished their work in half the time, and the Canadian Pacific
Railway was opened in 1885. Other lines sprang up, and corn, soon
counted in millions of bushels a year, began to flow in from the
prairies. Canada had become a nation, and shining prospects lay
before her.

South Africa, unlike America, had scanty
attractions for the early colonists and explorers. As the half-way
house to the Indies many broke their voyage there, but few cared to
stay. The Gulf of St Lawrence made it easy to reach the interior of
Canada, but the coastline of South Africa, short of natural
harbours and navigable rivers, mostly consisted of cliffs and
sandhills washed by strong currents and stormy seas. Inland a
succession of mountain ranges, running parallel to the coast,
barred the way. From the west the ascent was comparatively gradual,
but the country was barren and waterless. From the south and east
range after range, in many places sheer and precipitous, had to be
climbed. Few lands have been more difficult for Europeans to enter
than South Africa, and for them it long remained the “Tavern of the
Seas,” a port of call on the route to the East.
In the seventeenth century the fleets of the Dutch
East India Company, sailing for the Indies or returning home to
Amsterdam and Rotterdam, were the most frequent visitors to the
Cape, and Table Bay was their halting-place. The establishment of a
permanent settlement was discussed, but nothing was done till 1652,
when, at the height of their power and in the Golden Age of their
civilisation, the Dutch sent Jan van Riebeek, a young ship’s
surgeon, with three ships to take possession of Table Bay.
Colonisation was no part of the plan: they merely wanted to found a
port of call for the Company’s ships, and almost all the
inhabitants were servants of the Company, forbidden to strike out
into the new land. After twenty years there were no more than
sixty-four free burghers at Table Bay.
The change came at the turn of the seventeenth
century, under the Governorship of Simon van der Stel and his son
William Adriaan. They encouraged settlers to come out from Holland
and take up grants of land, and by 1707 there were over fifteen
hundred free burghers. Not all were Dutch; many were Huguenots,
Germans, or Swedes, driven into exile by religious persecution; but
the Dutch gradually assimilated them. The little community was
served and sustained by a local population of Negro slaves.
Throughout the eighteenth century the colony
prospered and grew. In 1760 the first European crossed the Orange
River, and by 1778 the Fish River had been made its eastern
boundary. By the end of the century the population numbered about
fifteen thousand, and there were three areas of settlement. Cape
Town, or “Little Paris” as the settlers called it, was a town and
port of five thousand inhabitants, and the Company’s headquarters.
The agricultural coast-belt near the Cape peninsula offered the
farmers a limited prosperity, and life was easy, though primitive.
Finally there was the inland plateau and remoter coast-belt, where
dwelt the frontiersmen, restless, hard, self-reliant,
narrow-minded, isolated from society, and impatient of the
restraints of civilised government—the forerunners of the Trekkers
and the Transvaal Boers of the nineteenth century.
But Holland had now been slowly overtaken by
Britain, and as the century drew to its close it became clear that
the Imperial future lay, not with the Dutch, but either with the
British or the French. Napoleon’s wars ruined the Dutch trade,
swept the Dutch ships from the seas, and overthrew the Dutch state.
In 1782 the Dutch East India Company had paid its last dividend,
and twelve years later declared its bankruptcy, with a deficit of
ten million pounds. The consequences were serious. Holland had no
longer the power to protect her possessions, and when the Dutch
were defeated by the French, and the puppet-state of the Batavian
Republic was established the British seized Cape Colony as enemy
territory. It was finally ceded to them under the peace settlement
of 1814 in return for an indemnity of £6,000,000.
At first they met with no great hostility. The
Dutch company had been unpopular, there was no deliberate policy of
Anglicisation, and the Cape kept most of its Dutch customs and
traditions. The British dealt forcefully with the eastern frontier,
where the settlers were in contact and conflict with a great
southward migration of the Bantu peoples from Central Africa. This
extended right across the continent, from the Hereros and Damaras
in the west to the Nguni coast peoples in the east. There was much
cattle-raiding along the line of the Fish River, and fighting
between the Dutch and the natives had broken out in 1779. Thus
began a long succession of Kaffir wars, lasting for a hundred
years. The settlers, scattered in isolated farms over vast
stretches of country, found it difficult to defend themselves, and
had demanded help from Cape Town. The far-away Dutch authorities
had given them no support. It was now the turn of the
British.
They decided that the only way to secure the line
of the Fish River was to colonise the border with British settlers,
and between 1820 and 1821 nearly five thousand of them were brought
out from Great Britain. This emigration coincided with a change of
policy. Convinced that South Africa was now destined to become a
permanent part of the British Empire, the Government resolved to
make it as English as they could. English began to replace Dutch as
the official language. In 1828 the judicial system was remodelled
on the English pattern, Dutch currency was replaced by English, and
the English began to dominate the churches and the schools. Thus
was born a division which Canada had surmounted. With the same
religion, a similar language, a common stock, and kindred political
and social traditions, British and Boers nevertheless plunged into
racial strife. British methods of government created among the
Boers a more bitter antagonism than in any other Imperial country
except Ireland.
Anglicisation was not only ill-conceived, it was
unsuccesful. The English were to discover, as the Spaniards had
learnt in the sixteenth century, that no race has ever clung more
tenaciously to its own culture and institutions than the Dutch, and
the only result of the new policy in the 1820’s and 1830’s was to
harden those differences of opinion, especially on the native
question, which were already beginning to appear. At this time
there was much enthusiasm in England for good works, and English
missionaries had been active in South Africa since the early years
of the century. The missionaries believed and preached that black
men were the equals of white men; the settlers regarded the natives
primarily as farmhands and wanted to control them as strictly as
possible. When the missionaries got slavery abolished in 1833 the
settlers were indignant at such interference, which meant scarcity
of labour, a weakening of their authority and prestige, a risk that
large numbers of the Bantu would become beggars and vagrants. At
first the English settlers agreed with the Dutch, but as soon as
the influence of the missionaries, especially Dr John Philip and
the London Missionary Society, came to sway the Government and the
Colonial Office the Dutch were left alone to nurse their grievances
against the English authorities.
The first crisis came in 1834. The settlement of
the Fish River area brought no security, and hordes of Bantu swept
over the frontier, laying waste the country and destroying the
farms. The Governor, Sir Benjamin D’Urban, drove them back, and to
prevent another attack he annexed the territory between the rivers
Keiskamma and Kei, expelled the native raiders, and compensated the
settlers by offering them land in this new province, which was
named after Queen Adelaide. This roused the missionaries, and they
persuaded the Colonial Secretary, Lord Glenelg, to repudiate
D’Urban and abandon the new province. The settlers lost all
compensation, and insult was added to injury when it became known
that Glenelg considered that the Kaffirs had an ample justification
for the war into which they had rushed. Thus was provoked the Great
Trek.
In small parties, accompanied by their women and
children and driving their cattle before them, about five thousand
Boers set out into the unknown, like the Children of Israel seeking
the Promised Land. They were soon followed by many others. Some
journeyed over a thousand miles to the banks of the Limpopo, many
were attacked by the Matabele and the Zulu, all endured thirst and
famine, yet in the unyielding spirit of their Calvinist religion
they marched on. The Great Trek was one of the remarkable feats of
the nineteenth century, and its purpose was to shake off British
rule for ever. “We quit this colony,” wrote Pieter Retief, one of
the Boer leaders, “under the full assurance that the English
Government has nothing more to require of us, and will allow us to
govern ourselves without its interference in future.”
For long their fortunes looked dark. It was the
time of the Mfecane, the “crushing” of the other native tribes by
the military empire of the Zulus under Chaka and his successor
Dingaan. The Zulu massacre of thousands of natives gave the Boers
room to move, but they moved in great peril. In many lonely places
within the laager of their ox-wagons they faced the wild onslaught
of the Zulu warriors, and not until December 1838 did they crush
Dingaan’s forces in a great battle at Blood River. After their
victory they established the Republic of Natal around the little
town of Pietermaritzburg, with Andries Pretorius as its first
President.
Their freedom was brief. The British refused to
recognise the republic, and after a short struggle in 1845 made it
a province of Cape Colony. There remained the Voortrekkers on the
plateau farther west, now reinforced by many refugees from Natal.
Here too the British intervened. In 1848 Sir Harry Smith, a brave
and energetic soldier who had served under Wellington, annexed the
country between the Orange and the Vaal Rivers, defeated Pretorius
at Boomplaats, and left only scattered Boer settlements across the
Vaal outside the colony.
Soon afterwards there was trouble with the tribes
beyond the Orange River, and in particular with the Basuto. In
Natal the problem had been met by creating native reserves and
reestablishing the old tribal hierarchies under the indirect
supervision of the Government. But the Government in London did not
care to extend its responsibilities, and in 1852 it recognised the
independence of the Transvaal settlers. Two years later, in
accordance with the Convention of Bloemfontein, the British
withdrew from beyond the Orange River and the Orange Free State was
formed. Political dissolution went farther: both Queen Adelaide
Province and Natal were made into separate colonies administered
directly by the Colonial Office. By 1857 there were five separate
republics and three colonies within the territory of the present
Union of South Africa. The old colony of the Cape meanwhile
prospered, as the production of wool increased by leaps and bounds,
and in 1853 an Order in Council established representative
institutions in the colony, with a Parliament in Cape Town, though
without the grant of full responsible government. Here we may leave
South African history for a spell of uneasy peace.