I called to my recollection how, ignoring the orders of Sir Benjamin Pine, he had decamped[76] with his tribe and cattle over the Drakensberg into the Double Mountains of Basutoland, instead of answering a summons to come to Pietermaritzburg to explain the reason why the young men of his tribe had refused to register their guns; how made a prisoner by Jonathan Molappo, a Basuto chief, he was sentenced to convict labor for life and transported to Robben Island, and how Bishop Colenso, braving the prejudices of the Natal colonists, went to England, in the cause of justice and humanity, and exposed the whole matter,[77] that Langibalele’s sentence was reduced to twenty years’ safe custody on the mainland, and Sir B. Pine was recalled![78] Shortly after parliament was prorogued Cetywayo had his heart’s desire gratified by being summoned to England, where his restoration to Zululand having been determined upon, the English government had thought it would be advisable to let him see some of the wonders of civilization before he resumed his power. The king was placed in the charge of Mr. Henrique Shepstone, a good Zulu linguist, and son of Sir Theophilus Shepstone, who was formerly secretary for native affairs in Natal. Cetywayo heroically bore the long sea voyage, being determined to leave no stone unturned by which he might possibly regain his forfeited position. It may interest some to hear of him in London, so I will quote from a letter my wife’s description of a visit she paid to him as she passed through that city on her way to New York: “I have just returned from making a call upon Cetywayo; it was a temptation after seeing him in his wretched Oude Molen quarters, just before I left Capetown, and knowing so well how he lived in his own uncivilized fashion, to see how he would look in a London drawing-room. Mr. Jonathan Peel was good enough to see our old friend, Mr. Henrique Shepstone, who is the special envoy in charge, and he most kindly arranged our visit. “On our arrival we were received by Cetywayo with evident pleasure, who, seating himself on a sofa, waived us to chairs arranged in a circle before him. The three chiefs who had accompanied him were each seated in a corner of the room. One chief appeared to have three feet, as he had taken off one of his boots and carefully arranged it in line with his two feet—explaining to me in a tone of apology, that in walking the day before it had blistered his little toe. The poor fellows looked uncomfortable enough in European clothes, but there was no reason why they should have been rendered more ridiculous by wearing neckties with embroidered red rosebuds. Fancy sad, dignified Cetywayo with a red rosebud under his chin!