King Cetshwayo, the last great ruler of Zululand, is captured by the British following his defeat in the British-Zulu War. He was subsequently sent into exile. Cetshwayo's defiance of British rule in southern Africa led to Britain's invasion of Zululand in 1879.

In 1843, Britain succeeded the Boers as the rulers of Natal, which controlled Zululand, the neighboring kingdom of the Zulu people. Boers, also known as Afrikaners, were the descendants of the original Dutch settlers who came to South Africa in the 17th century. Zulus, a migrant people from the north, also came to southern Africa during the 17th century, settling around the Tugela River region. In 1838, the Boers, migrating north to elude the new British dominions in the south, first came into armed conflict with the Zulus, who were under the rule of King Dingane at the time. The European migrants succeeded in overthrowing Dingane in 1840, replacing him with his son Mpande, who became a vassal of the new Boer republic of Natal. In 1843, the British took over Natal and Zululand.

In 1872, King Mpande died and was succeeded by his son Cetshwayo, who was determined to resist European domination in his territory. In December 1878, Cetshwayo rejected the British demand that he disband his troops, and in January British forces invaded Zululand to suppress Cetshwayo. The British suffered grave defeats at Isandlwana, where 1,300 British soldiers were killed or wounded, and at Hlobane Mountain, but on March 29 the tide turned in favor of the British at the Battle of Khambula.

King Cetshwayo was subsequently captured and sent into exile, but in 1883 he was reinstated to rule over part of his former territory. However, because of his defeats he was discredited in the eyes of his subjects, and they soon drove him out of Zululand. He died in exile in the next year.

In 1887, faced with continuing Zulu rebellions, the British formally annexed Zululand, and in 1897 it became a part of Natal, which joined the Union of South Africa in 1910.

While visiting family in Money, Mississippi, 14-year-old Emmett Till, an African American from Chicago, is brutally murdered for flirting with a white woman four days earlier. His assailants--the white woman's husband and her brother--made Emmett carry a 75-pound cotton-gin fan to the bank of the Tallahatchie River and ordered him to take off his clothes. The two men then beat him nearly to death, gouged out his eye, shot him in the head, and then threw his body, tied to the cotton-gin fan with barbed wire, into the river.

Till grew up in a working-class neighborhood on the south side of Chicago, and though he had attended a segregated elementary school, he was not prepared for the level of segregation he encountered in Mississippi. His mother warned him to take care because of his race, but Emmett enjoyed pulling pranks. On August 24, while standing with his cousins and some friends outside a country store in Money, Emmett bragged that his girlfriend back home was white. Emmett's African American companions, disbelieving him, dared Emmett to ask the white woman sitting behind the store counter for a date. He went in, bought some candy, and on the way out was heard saying, "Bye, baby" to the woman. There were no witnesses in the store, but Carolyn Bryant--the woman behind the counter--claimed that he grabbed her, made lewd advances, and then wolf-whistled at her as he sauntered out.

Roy Bryant, the proprietor of the store and the woman's husband, returned from a business trip a few days later and found out how Emmett had spoken to his wife. Enraged, he went to the home of Till's great uncle, Mose Wright, with his brother-in-law J.W. Milam in the early morning hours of August 28. The pair demanded to see the boy. Despite pleas from Wright, they forced Emmett into their car. After driving around in the Memphis night, and perhaps beating Till in a toolhouse behind Milam's residence, they drove him down to the Tallahatchie River.

Three days later, his corpse was recovered but was so disfigured that Mose Wright could only identify it by an initialed ring. Authorities wanted to bury the body quickly, but Till's mother, Mamie Bradley, requested it be sent back to Chicago. After seeing the mutilated remains, she decided to have an open-casket funeral so that all the world could see what racist murderers had done to her only son. Jet, an African American weekly magazine, published a photo of Emmett's corpse, and soon the mainstream media picked up on the story.

Less than two weeks after Emmett's body was buried, Milam and Bryant went on trial in a segregated courthouse in Sumner, Mississippi. There were few witnesses besides Mose Wright, who positively identified the defendants as Emmett's killers. On September 23, the all-white jury deliberated for less than an hour before issuing a verdict of "not guilty," explaining that they believed the state had failed to prove the identity of the body. Many people around the country were outraged by the decision and also by the state's decision not to indict Milam and Bryant on the separate charge of kidnapping.

The Emmett Till murder trial brought to light the brutality of Jim Crow segregation in the South and was an early impetus of the African American civil rights movement.

After four years of separation, Charles, Prince of Wales and heir to the British throne, and his wife, Princess Diana, formally divorce.

On July 29, 1981, nearly one billion television viewers in 74 countries tuned in to witness the marriage of Prince Charles, heir to the British throne, to Lady Diana Spencer, a young English schoolteacher. Married in a grand ceremony at St. Paul's Cathedral in the presence of 2,650 guests, the couple's romance was, for the moment, the envy of the world. Their first child, Prince William, was born in 1982, and their second, Prince Henry, in 1984.

Before long, however, the fairy tale couple grew apart, an experience that was particularly painful under the ubiquitous eyes of the world's tabloid media. Diana and Charles announced a separation in 1992, though they continued to carry out their royal duties. In August 1996, two months after Queen Elizabeth II urged the couple to divorce, the prince and princess reached a final agreement. In exchange for a generous settlement, and the right to retain her apartments at Kensington Palace and her title of "Princess of Wales," Diana agreed to relinquish the title of "Her Royal Highness" and any future claims to the British throne.

In the year following the divorce, the popular princess seemed well on her way to achieving her dream of becoming "a queen in people's hearts," but on August 31, 1997, she was killed with her companion Dodi Fayed in a car accident in Paris. An investigation conducted by the French police concluded that the driver, who also died in the crash, was heavily intoxicated and caused the accident while trying to escape the paparazzi photographers who consistently tailed Diana during any public outing.

Canadian author Robertson Davies is born on this day in the town of Thamesville in Ontario, Canada.

Davies was the son of a publisher and politician who owned the Canadian newspaper the Peterborough Examiner. He attended college in Ontario and later in Oxford, England. He stayed in England after finishing his degree and worked for two years acting, directing, and teaching at London's Old Vic theater. He tried his own hand at writing drama in the 1940s and 1950s, without enormous success.

When he returned to Canada, he became literary editor of a Toronto magazine, then edited for the Peterborough Examiner from 1962 to 1963. He began teaching English for the University of Toronto in 1960 and continued for more than 20 years. Meanwhile, he wrote novels, turning out more than 30 books of fiction, plus essays, articles, and nonfiction books. He was best known for his three trilogies, most notably the Deptford trilogy, including Fifth Business (1970), The Manticore (1972), and World of Wonders (1975). The trilogy followed the intertwined lives of three men from the small Canadian town of Deptford. His other well-know works included the Salterton trilogy in the 1950s, set in the provincial Canadian town of Salterton and dealing with fictional small-town events like a chaotic production of The Tempest, a small-town family feud, and a young woman training to be an opera singer. Later works included What's Bread in the Bone (1985), as well as many other novels and nonfiction books. Davies became the first Canadian admitted to the American Academy and Institute of Arts and Letters. He died in 1995 at the age of 82.

On this day in 1941, more than 23,000 Hungarian Jews are murdered by the Gestapo in occupied Ukraine.

The German invasion of the Soviet Union had advanced to the point of mass air raids on Moscow and the occupation of parts of Ukraine. On August 26, Hitler displayed the joys of conquest by inviting Benito Mussolini to Brest-Litovsk, where the Germans had destroyed the city's citadel. The grand irony is that Ukrainians had originally viewed the Germans as liberators from their Soviet oppressors and an ally in the struggle for independence. But as early as July, the Germans were arresting Ukrainians agitating and organizing for a provisional state government with an eye toward autonomy and throwing them into concentration camps. The Germans also began carving the nation up, dispensing parts to Poland (already occupied by Germany) and Romania.

But true horrors were reserved for Jews in the territory. Tens of thousands of Hungarian Jews had been expelled from that country and migrated to Ukraine. The German authorities tried sending them back, but Hungary would not take them. SS General Franz Jaeckeln vowed to deal with the influx of refugees by the "complete liquidation of those Jews by September 1." He worked even faster than promised. On August 28, he marched more than 23,000 Hungarian Jews to bomb craters at Kamenets Podolsk, ordered them to undress, and riddled them with machine-gun fire. Those who didn't die from the spray of bullets were buried alive under the weight of corpses that piled atop them.

All told, more than 600,000 Jews had been murdered in Ukraine by war's end.

On the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, D.C., the African American civil rights movement reaches its high-water mark when Martin Luther King, Jr., speaks to more than 200,000 people attending the March on Washington. The demonstrators--black and white, poor and rich--came together in the nation's capital to demand voting rights and equal opportunity for African Americans and to appeal for an end to racial segregation and discrimination.

The peaceful rally was the largest assembly for a redress of grievances that the capital had ever seen, and King was the last speaker. With the statue of Abraham Lincoln--the Great Emancipator--towering behind him, King evoked the rhetorical talents he had developed as a Baptist preacher to articulate how the "Negro is still not free." He told of the struggle ahead, stressing the importance of continued action and nonviolent protest. Coming to the end of his prepared text (which, like other speakers that day, he had limited to seven minutes), he was overwhelmed by the moment and launched into an improvised sermon.

He told the hushed crowd, "Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettoes of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed." Continuing, he began the refrain that made the speech one of the best known in U.S. history, second only to Lincoln's 1863 "Gettysburg Address":

"I have a dream," he boomed over the crowd stretching from the Lincoln Memorial to the Washington Monument, "that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: 'We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.' I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slaveowners will be able to sit down together at a table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a desert state, sweltering with the heat of injustice and oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my four children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. I have a dream today."

King had used the "I have a dream" theme before, in a handful of stump speeches, but never with the force and effectiveness of that hot August day in Washington. He equated the civil rights movement with the highest and noblest ideals of the American tradition, and for many Americans--white and black--the importance of racial equality was seen with a new and blinding clarity. He ended his stirring, 16-minute speech with his vision of the fruit of racial harmony:

"When we let freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, 'Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty, we are free at last!'"

In the year after the March on Washington, the civil rights movement achieved two of its greatest successes: the ratification of the 24th Amendment to the Constitution, which abolished the poll tax and thus a barrier to poor African American voters in the South; and the passage of the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibited racial discrimination in employment and education and outlawed racial segregation in public facilities. In October 1964, Martin Luther King, Jr., was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize. On April 4, 1968, he was shot to death while standing on a motel balcony in Memphis, Tennessee; the gunman was escaped convict James Earl Ray.

At the Democratic National Convention in Chicago, tens of thousands of protesters against the Vietnam War battle police in the streets while the Democratic Party tears itself to shreds concerning a platform statement on Vietnam. In one day and night, the Cold War consensus that had dominated American thinking since the late 1940s was shattered.

Since World War II ended and tensions with the Soviet Union began to intensify, a Cold War consensus about foreign policy had grown to dominate American thinking. In this mindset, communism was the ultimate enemy that had to be fought everywhere in the world. Uprisings in any nation, particularly in Africa, Asia, the Middle East, or Latin America, were perceived through a Cold War lens and were usually deemed to be communist-inspired. In Chicago in August 1968, that Cold War consensus began to crack and crumble. The Democratic Party held its national convention in Chicago that year. Problems immediately arose both inside and outside the convention. Inside, the delegates were split on the party's stance concerning the ongoing Vietnam War. Many wanted a plank in the party's platform demanding a U.S. withdrawal from the bloody and frustrating conflict. Most of these delegates supported Eugene McCarthy, a committed antiwar candidate, for president. A majority, however, believed that America must not give up the fight against communism. They largely supported Vice President Hubert Humphrey. As the debate intensified, fights broke out on the convention floor, and delegates and reporters were kicked, punched, and knocked to the ground. Eventually, the Humphrey forces were victorious, but the events of the convention left the Democratic Party demoralized and drained.

On the streets of Chicago, antiwar protesters massed in the downtown area, determined to force the Democrats to nominate McCarthy. Mayor Richard Daley responded by unleashing the Chicago police force. Thousands of policemen stormed into the crowd, swinging their clubs and firing tear gas. Stunned Americans watched on TV as the police battered and beat protesters, reporters, and anyone else in the way. The protesters began to chant, "The whole world is watching. The whole world is watching."

The world--and the American nation--was indeed watching that night. What they were witnessing was a serious fracture beginning to develop in America's previously solid Cold War consensus. For the first time, many Americans were demanding that their nation withdraw from part of its war against communism. North Vietnam, instead of being portrayed as the villain and pawn of its Soviet masters, was seen by some as a beleaguered nation fighting for independence and freedom against the vast war machine of the United States. The convention events marked an important turning point: no longer would the government have unrestrained power to pursue its Cold War policies. When future international crises arose--in Central America, the Middle East, or Africa--the cry of "No more Vietnams" was a reminder that the government's Cold War rhetoric would be closely scrutinized and often criticized.

The Democratic National Convention in Chicago endorses the Johnson administration's platform on the war in Vietnam and chooses Vice President Hubert Humphrey as the party's nominee for president. The decision on the party platform resulted in a contentious three-hour debate inside the convention hall.

Outside, a full-scale riot erupted, where antiwar protesters battled with police and National Guardsmen. By the time the convention was over, 668 demonstrators had been arrested and many Americans were stunned by the images of armed conflict in the streets. Humphrey's Republican opponent, Richard Nixon, very successfully used this incident in a call for return to law and order that won him much support during the election campaign.

It is reported in three Soviet newspapers that North Vietnamese pilots are undergoing training in a secret Soviet air base to fly supersonic interceptors against U.S. aircraft. This only confirms earlier reports that the Soviets had initiated close relations with North Vietnam after a visit by Soviet Premier Aleksei Kosygin to Hanoi in February 1965 during which he signed economic and military treaties with the North, pledging full support for their war effort. The Soviets and North Vietnamese leadership planned military strategy and discussed North Vietnam's needs to prosecute such a strategy. The Soviets agreed to supply the necessary war materials, to include air defense weapons for the North and offensive weapons to be employed in the South. At one point in the war, the Soviets would supply 80 percent of all supplies reaching North Vietnam.

Reverend Thomas Lee Hayes, speaking for the National Mobilization Committee, announces that there will be a massive protest march on October 21 in Washington. In the Senate, Mike Mansfield (D-Montana) made a proposal endorsed by 10 other senators to bring a peace plan before the United Nations.

The U.S. Air Force gets its first ace (a designation traditionally awarded for five enemy aircraft confirmed shot down) since the Korean War. Captain Richard S. Ritchie, flying with his "backseater" (radar intercept officer), Captain Charles B. DeBellevue, in an F-4 out of Udorn Air Base in Thailand, shoots down his fifth MiG near Hanoi.

Two weeks later, Captain DeBellvue, flying with Captain John A. Madden, Jr., shot down his fifth and sixth MiGs. The U.S. Navy already had two aces, Lieutenants Randall Cunningham and Bill Driscoll.

By this time in the war, there was only one U.S. fighter-bomber base left in South Vietnam at Bien Hoa. The rest of the air support was provided by aircraft flying from aircraft carriers or U.S. bases in Thailand.

Also on this day: Back in the United States, President Nixon announces that the military draft will end by July 1973.

Director John Huston dies of pneumonia at age 81, after a lifelong career in entertainment.

Huston was the son of actor Walter Huston, a vaudeville performer who began appearing in films in 1929. John Huston performed on the vaudeville circuit from age three. As a teenager, he became an amateur boxer, quitting high school and eventually becoming the California lightweight champion.

Huston drifted in his 20s and 30s, working as a stage actor before moving to Mexico and joining the U.S. Cavalry. He wrote short stories and plays, worked as a reporter, and collaborated on several screenplays, including Murders in the Rue Morgue (1932). Finally, in 1937, he settled down and focused on screenwriting, then directing. He made his directing debut with The Maltese Falcon, starring Humphrey Bogart. The film was a critical success, and Huston continued directing even during his stint in the army, during World War II, when he made several documentaries.

After the war, he directed another Bogart film, Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948), which featured Walter Huston in a supporting role for which he won an Oscar. The film also won Best Screenplay and Best Director.

John Huston courageously stood up to the House Un-American Activities Committee when it began persecuting suspected communists. He helped form the Committee for the First Amendment and eventually left the country as the practice of blacklisting suspected communists spread. Huston settled in Ireland with his third wife, Ricki Soma, and their children. Daughter Anjelica Huston was raised in Britain, but her father later moved to Mexico. He continued, however, to direct. Among his best-known films are The Asphalt Jungle(1950), The African Queen (1951), and Prizzi's Honor (1985), for which Anjelica Huston won an Oscar. Huston continued to work throughout his 70s, despite suffering from emphysema, which required him to use an oxygen tank.

Actor Jason Robards is awarded an Emmy for his performance in the miniseries Inherit the Wind on this day in 1988. Robards, the son of an actor, was born in 1922 and struggled for decades in the New York theater world before stunning critics with his performance in Eugene O'Neill's The Iceman Cometh in 1956. After that show, he became an established theater star for decades. He made his first film, The Journey, in 1959 and appeared in more than 50 movies during the next 30 years. He won Best Supporting Actor Oscars for All the President's Men (1976) and Julia (1977). Robards died in December 2000.

The bodies of Tracy Paules and Manuel Toboada are discovered at the Gatorwood Apartments, near the campus of the University of Florida. Their murders came two days after the discovery that three young female students had been killed and mutilated in two separate locations near the campus. The serial killer was known for positioning his victims' bodies in a lewd manner before he left. Authorities determined that all five murders were connected, and the Gainesville student community panicked.

While the first murders spawned a massive investigation including 80 state and federal agents, Florida's governor sent an additional 50 state troopers and investigators to assist after the bodies of Paules and Toboada were found.

University of Florida officials offered all students temporary on-campus housing to those afraid for their safety. Nearby Santa Fe Community College allowed its students to return home for two weeks with no adverse affect on their grades. In the wake of the crimes, people flooded the sheriff's office to obtain concealed weapons permit applications, while stores ran out of stock of mace.

The desperation to calm the community led police to arrest Ed Humphrey as a suspect, and students began to return to campus. However, with no real evidence against him, authorities continued their search, while keeping Humphrey in jail with a conviction on an unrelated charge.

The case was finally cracked when investigators found an abandoned campsite on the campus with a cassette recorded by the killer, admitting to the murders. Surrounding evidence eventually led police to Danny Rolling, who had been arrested in Tampa for armed robbery.

Apparently, Rolling had also killed a family in Shreveport, Louisiana, the previous November. He then shot his own father in the face before moving on to Florida. Rolling was convicted of the murders in April 1994, and sentenced to die in the electric chair. Ed Humphrey was released from prison, and his family bitterly denounced the police for their investigation and erroneous conclusions.