KING'S SON AS PITMAN.

New Zealand Herald, Volume L, Issue 15482, 13 December 1913, Page 2 (Supplement)

KING'S SON AS PITMAN.

MATABELE PRINCE'S STORY. VICTIM OF CONSUMPTION. The recent discoveiV that Prince Lobengula, son of King Lobengula, the Matabele warrior, was living at Pendleton ill and poverty-stricken, awnfied considerable interest in England. A -visit to the fallen warrior's h-me is described as follows by an English writer :— After a distressing fit cf coughing had reached its end, Prince Loben Lobengula, son of King Lobengula, the Matabele warrior, stretched out his hand* and elapsed mine by way of welcoming me to ins bedside. To do this ho had to disclose his arm, the appearance of which told me that the ravage of consumption was doing its work. The deplorable condition to which the princo had been reduced, through no fault of his own, calls for practical ttyrnpatny. When I entered the. humble dwelling at Pendleton, the front- door of which opens into the one and only downstairs room, three little black woolly-headed children were there. _.'■.- One little girl "was lying; on' a bed, suffering .with phthisis, another rested 111 a cradle, and the third (named, I was told, Alexandra, after Queen Alexandra) was busy with household duties, a fourth child was playing in the district. The mother,'an "Irish woman, was attending to her husband's wants.. I climbed up the dark and narrow stairway to tho prince's bedroom. He lay in a clean, but barely-furnitihed apartment. When the fit of coughing permitted it he, said that through the kindness of Mr. Rees, the rector of Pendleton, and other friends, Tie had received attention which made him feel much, better. llis eyes sparkled and ' his ebony face glistened as he thoi qiit of the sympathy bis chequered career, now ending with a serious illness, evoked, and when he recalled his share in the Matabele rising during the Jameson Raid,'-days of past achievements and defeats, and his rush to England as a place' of refuge, he betrayed 110 signs of ' bitterness, not even regret. Here is his story,, told from his own lips :— . "Yes. I fought in the Matabele War. I was wounded in it. (Kemovinn the covering from his left leg, he showed me unmistakable marks of bullet wounds, four in number). We had to deal with a gallant foe. and for that reason I and other Matabele warriors hid in caves during the day and went out to fight at ni^ht.

Hiding in Caves.

" We rushed from one cave to another, and the English could not get us out unless they ' dynamited ' or smoked us out. Then Einduna, the :hief, wanted to make peace, saying that we could not stand it any longer, because food was giving out He also said that now my father, King Lobengula, was dead we might surrender. "I replied, 'No, we will not give up. we will go on so long as we can and then surrender. I will remain in the caves.' " They took their shields and assegais and left, and the chief tried to persuade me to go too. He said it was no use stopping there, to I came out, and we all went to the Matoppoe—a big mountain. Hero some white people came to us. Of course we had only our shields, and assegais. We stood like a lot of sheep The white men came closer to us, and sent some men who could talk in our language to ask us what we intended to do. Were we going to fight or surrender? We said we would surrender. We were kept under control and given some food and wo made a kraal for the night. "The next morning some soldiers told us that if we surrendered we would be allowed to go back to our homes. Those who would not surrender would be shot. I did not leave the mountain. I built a kraal and stopped there for some time, waiting for things to settle down. "Three months later Mr. Cecil Rhodes, Captain Branders, and Lo"rd Grey rode up on horseback to ask that peace should be signed. There was no one among us who could -write, and a paper was read to us in our language, so that we could understand it. The chief was asked if he would accept it and he said 'Yes.' But I never said I would. "Those who agreed with the chief's answer were to be sent home. Zambok, who was chief for my father, asked me what I was going to do, and I said that we would make another try. 'As soon as things have settled down we can,' 1 said, 'make a dash in the night.' The chief said that he thought my advice was very bad, adding : 'Tho white men have guns that will kill 1000 of us at once (the prince here referred to Maxim guns), ours will only kill one at a time.' " I told him I was prepared to chanc3 it. I thought if we allowed three months to pass we might try a night attack. We did his, and were defeated, and ran again into some old caves.

"Played in a Pantomime." " From that time the white men kept us under observation, and I had to !ly from the country ,or fear of a courtmartial and my life. I got down to Kim-bc-rley and then to Bloemfontein. Then I made my way to Cape Town, and afterwards arrived in England. . . " Here I had to make a living, and 1 joined a show known as "Savage South Africa.' I also appeared in a Manchester pantomime of 'Robinson Crusoe.'" In 1901 the prince married an Irish wife. The following year lie went to live at Pendleton, and started work as a miner at the Agecroft Colliery, in. the district. " I was very happy in the pit," said the prince. " All my workmates were •very kind to me. They used to chaff me about my colour, and say that I entered the pit with a black face and left it in the same condition. They wanted to know it 1 washed my face. In the pit there was neither sunshine nor moonshine. " I cannot complain of my treatment here, but," he added pathetically, V there is no place like home/'