Toward the end of 1870, before the date of this letter, he had so far recovered that, though feeling the want of medicine as much as of men, he thought of setting out, in order to reach and explore the Lualaba, having made a bargain with Mohamad, for £270, to bring him to his destination. But now he heard that Syde bin Habib, Dugumbé, and others were on the way from Ujiji, perhaps bringing letters and medicines for him. He cannot move till they arrive; another weary time. "Sorely am I perplexed, and grieve and mourn."
The New Year 1871 passes while he is at Bambarré, with its prayer that he might be permitted to finish his task. At last, on 4th February, ten of the men despatched to him from the coast arrive, but only to bring a fresh disappointment. They were slaves, the property of Banians, who were British subjects! and they brought only one letter! Forty had been lost. There had been cholera at Zanzibar, and many of the porters sent by Dr. Kirk had died of it. The ten men came with a lie in their mouth; they would not help him, swearing that the Consul told them not to go forward, but to force Livingstone back. On the 10th they mutinied, and had to receive an advance of pay. It was apparent that they had been instructed by their Banian masters to baffle him in every way, so that their slave-trading should not be injured by his disclosures. Their two head-men, Shereef and Awathe, had refused to come farther than Ujiji, and were reveling in his goods there. Dr. Livingstone never ceased to lament and deplore that the men who had been sent to him were so utterly unsuitable. One of them actually formed a plot for his destruction, which was only frustrated through his being overheard by one whom Livingstone could trust. Livingstone wrote to his friends that owing to the inefficiency of the men, he lost two years of time, about a thousand pounds in money, had some 2000 miles of useless traveling, and was four several times subjected to the risk of a violent death.
At length, having arranged with the men, he sets out on 16th February over a most beautiful country, but woefully difficult to pass through. Perhaps it was hardly a less bitter disappointment to be told, on the 25th, that the Lualaba flowed west-southwest, so that after all it might be the Congo.
On the 29th March Livingstone arrived at Nyangwe, on the banks of the Lualaba. This was the farthest point westward that he reached in his last Expedition.
The slave-trade here he finds to be as horrible as in any other part of Africa. He is heart-sore for human blood He is threatened, bullied, and almost attacked. In some places, however, the rumor spreads that he makes no slaves, and he is called "the good one." His men are a ceaseless trouble, and for ever mutinying, or otherwise harassing him. And yet he perseveres in his old kind way, hoping by kindness to gain influence with them. Mohamad's people, he finds, have passed him on the west, and thus he loses a number of serviceable articles he was to get from them, and all the notes made for him of the rivers they had passed. The difficulties and discouragements are so great that he wonders whether, after all, God is smiling on his work.
His own men circulate such calumnious reports against him that he is unable to get canoes for the navigation of the Lualaba. This leads to weeks and months of weary waiting, and yet all in vain; but afterward he finds some consolation on discovering that the navigation was perilous, that a canoe had been lost from the inexperience of her crew in the rapids, so that had he been there, he should very likely have perished, as his canoe would probably have been foremost.
A change of plan was necessary. On 5th July he offered to Dugumbé £400, with all the goods he had at Ujiji besides, for men to replace the Banian slaves, and for the other means of going up the Lomamé to Katanga, then returning and going up Tanganyika to Ujiji. Dugumbé took a little time to consult his friends before replying to the offer.
Meanwhile an event occurred of unprecedented horror, that showed Livingstone that he could not go to Lomamé in the company of Dugumbé. Between Dugumbé's people and another chief a frightful system of pillage, murder, and burning of villages was going on with horrible activity. One bright summer morning, 15th July, when fifteen hundred people, chiefly women, were engaged peacefully in marketing in a village on the banks of the Lualaba, and while Dr. Livingstone was sauntering about, a murderous fire was opened on the people, and a massacre ensued of such measureless atrocity that he could describe it only by saying that it gave him the impression of being in hell. The event was so superlatively horrible, and had such an overwhelming influence on Livingstone, that we copy at full length the description of it given in theLast Journals:
"Before I had got thirty yards out, the discharge of two guns in the middle of the crowd told me that slaughter had begun; crowds dashed off from the place, and threw down their wares in confusion, and ran. At the same time that the three opened fire on the mass of people near the upper end of the market-place, volleys were discharged from a party down near the creek on the panic-stricken women, who dashed at the canoes. These, some fifty or more, were jammed in the creek, and the men forgot their paddles in the terror that seized all. The canoes were not to be got out, for the creek was too small for so many; men and women, wounded by the balls, poured into them, and leaped and scrambled into the water, shrieking A long line of heads in the river showed that great numbers struck out for an island a full mile off; in going toward it they had to put the left shoulder to a current of about two miles an hour; if they had struck away diagonally to the opposite bank, the current would have aided them, and, though nearly three miles off, some would have gained land; as it was, the heads above water showed the long line of those that would inevitably perish."Shot after shot continued to be fired on the helpless and perishing. Some of the long line of heads disappeared quietly; whilst other poor creatures threw their arms high, as if appealing to the great Father above, and sank. One canoe took in as many as it could hold, and all paddled with hands and arms; three canoes, got out in haste, picked up sinking friends, till all went down together, and disappeared. One man in a long canoe, which could have held forty or fifty, had clearly lost his head; he had been out in the stream before the massacre began, and now paddled up the river nowhere, and never looked to the drowning. By and by all the heads disappeared; some had turned down stream toward the bank, and escaped. Dugumbé put people into one of the deserted vessls to save those in the water, and saved twenty-one; but one woman refused to be taken on board, from thinking that she was to be made a slave of; she preferred the chance of life by swimming to the lot of a slave. The Bagenya women are expert in the water, as they are accustomed to dive for oysters, and those who went down stream may have escaped, but the Arabs themselves estimated the loss of life at between 330 and 400 souls. The shooting-party near the canoes were so reckless, they killed two of their own people; and a Banyamwezi follower, who got into a deserted canoe to plunder, fell into the water, went down, then came up again, and down to rise no more."After the terrible affair in the water, the party of Tagamoio, who was the chief perpetrator, continued to fire on the people there, and fire their villages. As I write I hear the loud wails on the left bank over those who are there slain, ignorant of their many friends now in the depths of Lualaba. Oh, let Thy kingdom come! No one will ever know the exact loss on this bright sultry summer morning; it gave me the impression of being in Hell. All the slaves in the camp rushed at the fugitives on land, and plundered them; women were for hours collecting and carrying loads of what had been thrown down in terror."
The remembrance of this awful scene was never effaced from Livingstone's heart. The accounts of it published in the newspapers at home sent a thrill of horror through the country. It was recorded at great length in a despatch to the Foreign Secretary, and indeed, it became one of the chief causes of the appointment of a Royal Commission to investigate the subject of the African slave-trade, and of the mission of Sir Bartle Frere to Africa to concert measures for bringing it to an end.
Dugumbé had not been the active perpetrator of the massacre, but, he was mixed up with the atrocities that had been committed, and Livingstone could have nothing to do with him. It was a great trial, for, as the Banian men were impracticable, there was nothing for it now but to go back to Ujiji, and try to get other men there with whom he would repeat the attempt to explore the river. For twenty-one months, counting from the period of their engagement, he had fed and clothed these men, all in vain, and now he had to trudge back forty-five days, a journey equal, with all its turnings and windings, to six hundred miles. Livingstone was ill, and after such an exciting time he would probably have had an attack of fever, but for another ailment to which he had become more especially subject. The intestinal canal had given way, and he was subject to attacks of severe internal hæmorrhage, one of which came on him now[71]. It appeared afterward that had he gone with Dugumbé, he would have been exposed to an assault in force by the Bakuss, as they made an attack on the party and routed them, killing two hundred. If Livingstone had been among them, he might have fallen in this engagement. So again, he saw how present disappointments work for good.
[71]His friends say that for a considerable time before he had been subject to the most grievous pain from hæmorrhoids. His sufferings were often excruciating.
The journey back to Ujiji, begun 20th July, 1871, was a very wretched one. Amid the universal desolation caused by the very wantonness of the marauders, it was impossible for Livingstone to persuade the natives that he did not belong to the same-set. Ambushes were set for him and his company in the forest. On the 8th August they came to an ambushment all prepared, but it had been abandoned for some unknown reason. By and by, on the same day, a large spear flew past Livingstone, grazing his neck; the native who flung it was but ten yards off; the hand of God alone saved his life[72]. Farther on, another spear was thrown, which missed him by a foot. On the same day a large tree, to which fire had been applied to fell it, came down within a yard of him. Thus on one day he was delivered three times from impending death. He went on through the forest, expecting every minute to be attacked, having no fear, but perfectly indifferent whether he should be killed or not. He lost all his remaining calico that day, a telescope, umbrella, and five spears. By and Thy he was prostrated with grievous illness. As soon as he could move he went onward, but he felt as if dying on his feet. And he was ill-rigged for the road, for the light French shoes to which he was reduced, and which had been cut to ease his feet till they would hardly hang together, failed to protect him from the sharp fragments of quartz with which the road was strewed. He was getting near to Ujiji, however, where abundant of goods and comforts were no doubt safely stowed away for him, and the hope of relief sustained him under all his trials.
[72]The head of this spear is among the Livingstone relics at Newstead Abbey.
At last, on the 23d October, reduced to a living skeleton, he reached Ujiji. What was his misery, instead of finding the abundance of goods he had expected, to learn that the wretch Shereef, to whom they had been consigned, had sold off the whole, not leaving one yard of calico out of 3000, or one string of beads out of 700 pounds! The scoundrel had divined on the Koran, found that Livingstone was dead, and would need the goods no more. Livingstone had intended, if he could not get men at Ujiji to go with him to the Lualaba, to wait there till suitable men should be sent up from the coast; but he had never thought of having to wait in beggary. If anything could have aggravated the annoyance, it was to see Shereef come, without shame, to salute him, and tell him on leaving, that he was going to pray; or to see his slaves passing from the market with all the good things his property had bought! Livingstone applied a term to him which he reserved for men--black or white--whose wickedness made them alike shameless and stupid--he was a "moral idiot."
It was the old story of the traveler who fell among thieves that robbed him of all he had; but where was the good Samaritan? The Government and the Geographical Society appeared to have passed by on the other side. But the good Samaritan was not as far off as might have been thought. One morning Syed bin Majid, an Arab trader, came to him with a generous offer to sell some ivory and get goods for him; but Livingstone had the old feeling of independence, and having still a few barter goods left, which he had deposited with Mohamad bin Saleh before going to Manyuema, he declined for the present Syed's generous offer. But the kindness of Syed was not the only proof that he was not forsaken. Five days after he reached Ujiji the good Samaritan appeared from another quarter. As Livingstone had been approaching Ujiji from the southwest, another white man had been approaching it from the east. On 28th October, 1871, Henry Moreland Stanley, who had been sent to look for him by Mr. James Gordon Bennett, Jr., of theNew York Heraldnewspaper, grasped the hand of David Livingstone. An angel from heaven could hardly have been more welcome. In a moment the sky brightened. Stanley was provided with ample stores, and was delighted to supply the wants of the traveler. The sense of sympathy, the feeling of brotherhood, the blessing of fellowship, acted like a charm. Four good meals a day, instead of the spare and tasteless food of the country, made a wonderful change on the outer man; and in a few days Livingstone was himself again--hearty and happy and hopeful as before.
Before closing this chapter and entering on the last two years of Livingstone's life, which have so lively an interest of their own, it will be convenient to glance at the contributions to natural science which he continued to make to the very end. In doing this, we avail ourselves of a very tender and Christian tribute to the memory of his early friend, which Professor Owen contributed to theQuarterly Review,April, 1875, after the publication of Livingstone'sLast Journals.
Mr. Owen appears to have been convinced by Livingstone's reasoning and observations, that the Nile sources were in the Bangweolo watershed--a supposition now ascertained to have been erroneous. But what chiefly attracted and delighted the great naturalist was the many interesting notices of plants and animals scattered over theLast Journals. These Journals contain important contributions both to economic and physiological botany. In the former department, Livingstone makes valuable observations on plants useful in the arts, such as gum-copal, papyrus, cotton, india-rubber, and the palm-oil tree; while in the latter, his notices of "carnivorous plants," which catch insects that probably yield nourishment to the plant, of silicified wood and the like, show how carefully he watched all that throws light on the life and changes of plants. In zoölogy he was never weary of observing, especially when he found a strange-looking animal with strange habits. Spiders, ants, and bees of unknown varieties were brought to light, but the strangest of his new acquaintances were among the fishy tribes. He found fish that made long excursions on land, thanks to the wet grass through which they would wander for miles, thus proving that "a fish out of water" is not always the best symbol for a man out of his element. There were fish, too, that burrowed in the earth; but most remarkable at first sight were the fish that appeared to bring forth their young by ejecting them from their mouths. If Bruce or Du Chaillu had made such a statement, remarks Professor Owen, what ridicule would they not have encountered! But Livingstone was not the man to make a statement of what he had not ascertained, or to be content until he had found a scientific explanation of it. He found that in the branchial openings of the fish, there occur bags or pouches, on the same principle as the pouch of the opossum, where the young may be lodged for a time for protection or nourishment, and that when the creatures are discharged through the mouth into the water, it is only from a temporary cradle where they were probably enjoying repose, beyond the reach of enemies.
Perhaps the greatest of Livingstone's scientific discoveries during this journey was that "of a physical condition of the earth's surface in elevated tracts of the great continent, unknown before." The bogs or earth-sponges, that from his first acquaintance with them gave him so much trouble, and at last proved the occasion of his death, were not only remarkable in themselves, but-interesting as probably explaining the annual inundations of most of the rivers. Wherever there was a plain sloping toward a narrow opening in hills or higher ground, there were the conditions for an African sponge. The vegetation falls down and rots, and forms a rich black loam, resting often, two or three feet thick, on a bed of pure river sand. The early rains turn the vegetation into slush, and fill the, pools. The later rains, finding the pools already full, run off to the rivers, and form the inundation. The first rains occur south of the equator when the sun goes vertically over any spot, and the second or greater rains happen in his course north again. This, certainly, was the case as observed on the Zambesi and Shiré, and taking the different times for the sun's passage north of the equator, it explained the inundations of the Nile.
Such notices show that in his love of nature, and in his careful observation of all her agencies and processes, Livingstone, in his last journeys, was the same as ever. He looked reverently on all plants and animals, and on the solid earth in all its aspects and forms, as the creatures of that same God whose love in Christ it was his heart's delight to proclaim. His whole life, so varied in its outward employments, yet so simple and transparent in its one great object, was ruled by the conviction that the God of nature and the God of revelation were one. While thoroughly enjoying his work as a naturalist, Professor Owen frankly admits that it was but a secondary object of his life. "Of his primary work the record is on high, and its imperishable fruits remain on earth. The seeds of the Word of Life implanted lovingly, with pains and labor, and above-all with faith; the out-door scenes of the simple Sabbath service; the testimony of Him to whom the worship was paid, given in terms of such simplicity as were fitted to the comprehension of the dark-skinned listeners,--these seeds will not have been scattered by him in vain. Nor have they been sown in words alone, but in deeds, of which some part of the honor will redound to his successors. The teaching by forgiveness of injuries,--by trust, however unworthy the trusted,--by that confidence which imputed his own noble nature to those whom he would win,--by the practical enforcement of the fact that a man might promise and perform--might say the thing he meant,--of this teaching by good deeds, as well as by the words of truth and love, the successor who treads in the steps of LIVINGSTONE, and accomplishes the discovery he aimed at, and pointed the way to, will assuredly the benefit[73]."
[73]Quarterly Review, April, 1875, pp. 498, 499.
A.D. 1871-1872.
A.D. 1871-1872.
Mr. Gordon Bennett sends Stanley in search of Livingstone--Stanley at Zanzibar--Starts for Ujiji--Reaches Unyanyembe--Dangerous illness--War between Arabs and natives--Narrow escape of Stanley--Approach to Ujiji--Meeting with Livingstone--Livingstone's story--Stanley's news--Livingstone's goods and men at Bagamoio--Stanley's accounts of Livingstone--Refutation of foolish and calumnious charges--They go to the north of the lake--Livingstone resolves not to go home, but to get fresh men and return to the sources--Letter to Agnes--to Sir Thomas Maclear--The travelers go to Unyanyembe--More plundering of stores--Stanley leaves for Zanzibar--Stanley's bitterness of heart at parting--Livingstone's intense gratitude to Stanley--He intrusts his Journal to him, and commissions him to send servants and stores from Zanzibar--Stanley's journey to the coast--Finds Search Expedition at Bagamoio--Proceeds to England--Stanley's reception--Unpleasant feelings--Éclaircissement--England grateful to Stanley.
The meeting of Stanley and Livingstone at Ujiji was as unlikely an occurrence as could have happened, and, along with many of the earlier events in Livingstone's life, serves to show how wonderfully an Unseen Hand shaped and guarded his path. Neither Stanley nor the gentleman who sent him had any personal interest in Livingstone. Mr. Bennett admitted frankly that he was moved neither by friendship nor philanthropy, but by regard to his business and interest as a journalist. The object of a journal was to furnish its readers with the news which they desired to know; the readers of theNew York Heralddesired to know about Livingstone; as a journalist, it was his business to find out and tell them. Mr. Bennett determined that, cost what it might, he would find out, and give the news to his readers. These were the very unromantic notions, with an under-current probably of better quality, that were passing through his mind at Paris, on the 16th October, 1869, when he sent a telegram to Madrid, summoning Henry M. Stanley, one of the "own correspondents" of his paper, to "come to Paris on important business." On his arrival, Mr. Bennett asked him bluntly, "Where do you think Livingstone is?" The correspondent could not tell--could not even tell whether he was alive. "Well," said Mr. Bennett, "I think he is alive, and that he may be found, and I am going to send you to find him." Mr. Stanley was to have whatever money should be found necessary; only he was to find Livingstone. It is very mysterious that he was not to go straight to Africa--he was to visit Constantinople, Palestine, and Egypt first. Then, from India, he was to go to Zanzibar; get into the interior, and find him if alive; obtain all possible news of his discoveries; and if he were dead, get the fact fully verified, find out the place of his burial, and try to obtain possession of his bones, that they might find a resting-place at home.
It was not till January, 1871, that Stanley reached Zanzibar. To organize an expedition into the interior was no easy task for one who had never before set foot in Africa. To lay all his plans without divulging his object would, perhaps, have been more difficult if it had ever entered into any man's head to connect theNew York Heraldwith a search for Livingstone. But indomitable vigor and perseverance succeeded, and by the end of February and beginning of March, one hundred and ninety-two persons in all had started in five caravans at short intervals from Bagamoio for Lake Tanganyika, two white men being of the party besides Stanley, with horses, donkeys, bales, boats, boxes, rifles, etc., to an amount that made the leader of the expedition ask himself how such an enormous weight of material could ever be carried into the heart of Africa.
The ordinary and extraordinary risks and troubles of travel in these parts fell to Mr. Stanley's lot in unstinted abundance. But when Unyanyembe was reached, the half-way station to Ujiji, troubles more than extraordinary befell. First, a terrible attack of fever that deprived him of his senses for a fortnight. Then came a worse trouble. The Arabs were at war with a chief Mirambo, and Stanley and his men, believing they would help to restore peace more speedily, sided with the Arabs. At first they were apparently victorious, but immediately after, part of the Arabs were attacked on their way home by Mirambo, who lay in ambush for them, and were defeated. Great consternation prevailed. The Arabs retreated in panic, leaving Stanley, who was ill, to the tender mercies of the foe. Stanley, however, managed to escape. After this experience of the Arabs in war, he resolved to discontinue his alliance with them. As the usual way to Ujiji was blocked, he determined to try a route more to the south. But his people had forsaken him. One of his two English companions was dead, the other was sick and had to be sent back. Mirambo was still threatening. It was not till the 20th September that new men were engaged by Stanley, and his party were ready to move.
They marched slowly, with various adventures and difficulties, until, by Mr. Stanley's reckoning, on the 10th November (but by Livingstone's earlier), they were close on Ujiji. Their approach created an extraordinary excitement. First one voice saluted them in English, then another; these were the salutations of Livingstone's servants, Susi and Chuma. By and by the Doctor himself appeared. "As I advanced slowly toward him," says Mr. Stanley, "I noticed he was pale, looked wearied, had a gray beard, wore a bluish cap with a faded gold band round it, had on a red-sleeved waistcoat and a pair of gray tweed trousers. I would have run to him, only I was a coward in the presence of such a mob,--would have embraced him, only he, being an Englishman, I did not know how he would receive me; so I did what cowardice and false pride suggested was the best thing--walked deliberately to him, took off my hat and said, 'Dr. Livingstone, I presume?' 'Yes,' said he, with a kind smile, lifting his cap slightly. I replace my hat on my head, and he puts on his cap, and we both grasp hands, and then I say aloud--'I thank God, Doctor, I have been permitted to see you.' He answered, 'I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you.'"
The conversation began--but Stanley could not remember what it was. "I found myself gazing at him, conning the wonderful man at whose side I now sat in Central Africa. Every hair of his head and beard, every wrinkle of his face, the wanness of his features, and the slightly wearied look he bore, were all imparting intelligence to me--the knowledge I craved for so much ever since I heard the words, 'Take what you want, but find Livingstone,' What I saw was deeply interesting intelligence to me and unvarnished truth. I was listening and reading at the same time. What did these dumb witnesses relate to me?
"Oh, reader, had you been at my side on this day in Ujiji, how eloquently could be told the nature of this man's work? Had you been there but to see and hear! His lips gave me the details; lips that never lie. I cannot repeat what he said; I was too much engrossed to take my notebook out, and begin to stenograph his story. He had so much to say that he began at the end, seemingly oblivious of the fact that five or six years had to be accounted for. But his account was oozing out; it was growing fast into grand proportions--into a most marvelous history of deeds."
And Stanley, too, had wonderful things to tell the Doctor. "The news," says Livingstone, "he had to tell one who had been two full years without any tidings from Europe made my whole frame thrill. The terrible fate that had befallen France, the telegraphic cables successfully laid in the Atlantic, the election of General Grant, the death of good Lord Clarendon, my constant friend; the proof that Her Majesty's Government had not forgotten me in voting £1000 for supplies, and many other points of interest, revived emotions that had lain dormant in Manyuema." As Stanley went on, Livingstone kept saying, "You have brought me new life--you have brought me new life."
There was one piece of news brought by Stanley to Livingstone that was far from satisfactory. At Bagamoio, on the coast, Stanley had found a caravan with supplies for Livingstone that had been despatched from Zanzibar three or four months before, the men in charge of which had been lying idle there all that time on the pretext that they were waiting for carriers. A letter-bag was also lying at Bagamoio, although several caravans for Ujiji had left in the meantime. On hearing that the Consul at Zanzibar, Dr. Kirk, was coming to the neighborhood to hunt, the party at last made off. Overtaking them at Unyanyembe, Stanley took charge of Livingstone's stores, but was not able to bring them on; only he compelled the letter-carrier to come on to Ujiji with his bag. At what time, but for Stanley, Livingstone would have got his letters, which after all were a year on the way, he could not have told. For his stores, or such fragments of them as might remain, he had afterward to trudge all the way to Unyanyembe. His letters conveyed the news that Government had voted a thousand pounds for his relief, and were besides to pay him a salary[74]. The unpleasant feeling he had had so long as to his treatment by Government was thus at last somewhat relieved. But the goods that had lain in neglect at Bagamoio, and were now out of reach at Unyanyembe, represented one-half the Government grant, and would probably be squandered, like his other goods, before he could reach them.
[74]The intimation of salary was premature. Livingstone got a pension of £800 afterward, which lasted only for a year and a half.
The impression made on Stanley by Livingstone was remarkably vivid; and the portrait drawn by the American will be recognized as genuine by every one who knows what manner of man Livingstone was:
"I defy any one to be in his society long without thoroughly fathoming him, for in him there is no guile, and what is apparent on the surface is the thing that is in him.... Dr. Livingstone is about sixty years old, though after he was restored to health he looked like a man who had not passed his fiftieth year. His hair has a brownish color yet, but is here and there streaked with gray lines over the temples; his beard and moustaches are very gray. His eyes, which are hazel, are remarkably bright; he has a sight keen as a hawk's. His teeth alone indicate the weakness of age; the hard fare of Lunda has made havoc in their lines. His form, which soon assumed a stoutish appearance, is a little over the ordinary height, with the slightest possible bow in the shoulders. When walking he has a firm but heavy tread, like that of an overworked or fatigued man. He is accustomed to wear a naval cap with a semicircular peak, by which he has been identified throughout Africa. His dress, when first I saw him, exhibited traces of patching and repairing, but was scrupulously clean."I was led to believe that Livingstone possessed a splenetic, misanthropic temper; some have said that he is garrulous; that he is demented; that he is utterly changed from the David Livingstone whom people knew as the reverend missionary; that he takes no notes or observations but such as those which no other person could read but himself, and it was reported, before I proceeded to Africa, that he was married to an African princess."I respectfully beg to differ with all and each of the above statements. I grant he is not an angel; but he approaches to that being as near as the nature of a living man will allow. I never saw any spleen or misanthropy in him: as for being garrulous, Dr. Livingstone is quite the reverse; he is reserved, if anything; and to the man who says Dr. Livingstone is changed, all I can say is, that he never could have known him, for it is notorious that the Doctor has a fund of quiet humor, which he exhibits at all times when he is among friends." [After repudiating the charge as to his notes, and observations, Mr. Stanley continues:] "As to the report of his African marriage, it is unnecessary to say more than that it is untrue, and it is utterly beneath a gentleman even to hint at such a thing in connection with the name of Dr. Livingstone."You may take any point in Dr. Livingstone's character, and analyze it carefully, and I would challenge any man to find a fault in it.... His gentleness never forsakes him; his hopefulness never deserts him. No harassing anxieties, distraction of mind, long separation from home and kindred, can make him complain. He thinks 'all will come out right at last'; he has such faith in the goodness of Providence. The sport of adverse circumstances, the plaything of the miserable beings sent to him from Zanzibar--he has been baffled and worried, even almost to the grave, yet he will not desert the charge imposed upon him by his friend Sir Roderick Murchison. To the stern dictates of duty, alone, has he sacrificed his home and ease, the pleasures, refinements, and luxuries of civilized life. His is the Spartan heroism, the inflexibility of the Roman, the enduring resolution of the Anglo-Saxon--never to relinquish his work, though his heart yearns for home; never to surrender his obligations until he can write FINIS to his work."There is a good-naturedabandonabout Livingstone which was not lost on me. Whenever he began to laugh, there was a contagion about it that compelled me to imitate him. It was such a laugh as Teufelsdröckh's--a laugh of the whole man from head to heel. If he told a story, he related it in such a way as to convince one of its truthfulness; his face was so lit up by the sly fun it contained, that I was sure the story was worth relating, and worth listening to."Another thing that especially attracted my attention was his wonderfully retentive memory. If we remember the many years he has spent in Africa, deprived of books, we may well think it an uncommon memory that can recite whole poems from Byron, Burns, Tennyson, Longfellow, Whittier, and Lowell...."His religion is not of the theoretical kind, but it is a constant, earnest, sincere practice. It is neither demonstrative nor loud, but manifests itself in a quiet, practical way, and is always at work. It is not aggressive, which sometimes is troublesome if not impertinent. In him religion exhibits its loveliest features; it governs his conduct not only toward his servants but toward the natives, the bigoted Mohammedans, and all who come in contact with him. Without it, Livingstone, with his ardent temperament, his enthusiasm, his high spirit and courage, must have become uncompanionable, and a hard master. Religion has tamed him and made him a Christian gentleman; the crude and willful have been refined and subdued; religion has made him the most companionable of men and indulgent of masters--a man whose society is pleasurable to a degree...."From being thwarted and hated in every possible way by the Arabs and half-castes upon his first arrival at Ujiji, he has, through his uniform kindness and mild, pleasant temper, won all hearts. I observed that universal respect was paid to him. Even the Mohammedans never passed his house without calling to pay their compliments, and to say, 'The blessing of God rest on you!' Each Sunday morning he gathers his little flock around him, and reads prayers and a chapter from the Bible, in a natural, unaffected, and sincere tone; and afterward delivers a short address in the Kisawahili language, about the subject read to them, which is listened to with evident interest and attention."
It was agreed that the two travelers should make a short excursion to the north end of Lake Tanganyika, to ascertain whether the lake had an outlet there. This was done, but it was found that instead of flowing out, the river Lugizé flowed into the lake, so that the notion that the lake discharged itself northward turned out to be an error. Meanwhile, the future arrangements of Dr. Livingstone were matter of anxious consideration. One thing was fixed and certain from the beginning: Livingstone would not go home with Stanley. Much though his heart yearned for home and family--all the more that he had just learned that his son Thomas had had a dangerous accident,--and much though he needed to recruit his strength and nurse his ailments, he would not think of it while his work remained unfinished. To turn back to those dreary sponges, sleep in those flooded plains, encounter anew that terrible pneumonia which was "worse than ten fevers," or that distressing hæmorrhage which added extreme weakness to extreme agony--might have turned any heart; Livingstone never flinched from it. What a reception awaited him if he had gone home to England! What welcome from friends and children, what triumphal cheers from all the great Societies andsavants, what honors from all who had honors to confer, what opportunity of renewing efforts to establish missions and commerce, and to suppress the slave traffic! Then he might return to Africa in a year, and finish his work. If Livingstone had taken this course, no whisper would have been heard against it. The nobility of his soul never rose higher, his utter abandonment of self, his entire devotion to duty, his right honorable determination to work while it was called to-day never shone more brightly than when he declined all Stanley's entreaties to return home, and set his face steadfastly to go back to the bogs of the watershed. He writes in his journal: "My daughter Agnes says, 'Much as I wish you to come home, I had rather that you finished your work to your own satisfaction, than return merely to gratify me.' Rightly and nobly said, my darling Nannie; vanity whispers pretty loudly, 'She is a chip of the old block,' My blessing on her and all the rest."
After careful consideration of various plans, it was agreed that he should go to Unyanyembe, accompanied by Stanley, who would supply him there with abundance of goods, and who would then hurry down to the coast, organize a new expedition composed of fifty or sixty faithful men to be sent on to Unyanyembe, by whom Livingstone would be accompanied back to Bangweolo and the sources, and then to Rua, until his work should be completed, and he might go home in peace.
A few extracts from Livingstone's letters will show us how he felt at this remarkable crisis. To Agnes:
"Tanganyika, 18th November, 1871--[After detailing his troubles in Manyuema, the loss of all his goods at Ujiji, and the generous offer of Syed bin Majid, he continues:] "Next I heard of an Englishman being at Unyamyembe with boats, etc., but who he was, none could tell. At last, one of my people came running out of breath and shouted, 'An Englishman coming!' and off he darted back again to meet him. An American flag at the head of a large caravan showed the nationality of the stranger. Baths, tents, saddles, big kettles, showed that he was not a poor Lazarus like me. He turned out to be Henry M. Stanley, traveling correspondent of theNew York Herald, sent specially to find out if I were really alive, and, if dead, to bring home my bones. He had brought abundance of goods at great expense, but the fighting referred to delayed him, and he had to leave a great part at Unyamyembe. To all he had I was made free. [In a later letter, Livingstone says; 'He laid all he had at my service, divided his clothes into two heaps, and pressed one heap upon me; then his medicine-chest; then his goods and everything he had, and to coax my appetite, often cooked dainty dishes with his own hand.'] He came with the true American characteristic generosity. The tears often started into my eyes on every fresh proof of kindness. My appetite returned, and I ate three or four times a day, instead of scanty meals morning and evening. I soon felt strong, and never wearied with the strange news of Europe and America he told. The tumble down of the French Empire was like a dream...."
A long letter to his friend Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann, of the same date, goes over his travels in Manyuema, his many disasters, and then his wonderful meeting with Mr. Stanley at Ujiji. Speaking of the unwillingness of the natives to believe in the true purpose of his journey, he says: "They all treat me with respect, and are very much afraid of being written against; but they consider the sources of the Nile to be a sham; the true object of my being sent is to see their odious system of slaving, andif indeed my disclosures should lead to the suppression of the East Coast slave-trade, I would esteem that as a far greater feat than the discovery of all the sources together. It is awful, but I cannot speak of the slaving for fear of appearing guilty of exaggerating. It is not trading; it is murdering for captives to be made into slaves." His account of himself in the journey from Nyangwe is dreadful: "I was near a fourth lake on this central line, and only eighty miles from Lake Lincoln on our west, in fact almost in sight of the geographical end of my mission, when I was forced to return [through the misconduct of his men] between 400 and 500 miles. A sore heart, made still sorer by the sad scenes I had seen of man's inhumanity to man, made this march a terrible tramp--the sun vertical, and the sore heat reacting on the physical frame. I was in pain nearly every step of the way, and arrived a mere ruckle of bones to find myself destitute." In speaking of the impression made by Mr. Stanley's kindness: "I am as cold and non-demonstrative as we islanders are reputed to be, but this kindness was overwhelming. Here was the good Samaritan and no mistake. Never was I more hard pressed; never was help more welcome."
During thirteen months Stanley received no fewer than ten parcels of letters and papers sent up by Mr. Webb, American Consul at Zanzibar, while Livingstone received but one. This was an additional ground for faith in the efficiency of Stanley's arrangements.
The journey to Unyanyembe was somewhat delayed by an attack of fever which Stanley had at Ujiji, and it was not till the 27th December that the travelers set out. On the way Stanley heard of the death of his English attendant Shaw, whom he had left unwell. On the 18th of February, 1872, they reached Unyanyembe, where a new chapter of the old history unfolded itself. The survivor of two head-men employed by Ludha Damji had been plundering Livingstone's stores, and had broken open the lock of Mr. Stanley's store-room and plundered him likewise. Notwithstanding, Mr. Stanley was able to give Livingstone a large amount of calico, beads, brass wire, copper sheets, a tent, boat, bath, cooking-pots, medicine-chest, tools, books, paper, medicines, cartridges, and shot. This, with four flannel shirts that had come from Agnes, and two pairs of boots, gave him the feeling of being quite set up.
On the 14th of March Mr. Stanley left Livingstone for Zanzibar, having received from him a commission to send him up fifty trusty men, and some additional stores. Mr. Stanley had authority to draw from Dr. Kirk the remaining half of the Government grant, but lest it should have been expended, he was furnished with a cheque for 5000 rupees on Dr. Livingstone's agents at Bombay. He was likewise intrusted with a large folio MS.* volume containing his journals from his arrival at Zanzibar, 28th January, 1866, to February 20, 1872, written out with all his characteristic care and beauty. Another instruction had been laid upon him. If he should find another set of slaves on the way to him, he was to send them back, for Livingstone would on no account expose himself anew to the misery, risk, and disappointment he had experienced from the kind of men that had compelled him to turn back at Nyangwe.
Dr. Livingstone's last act before Mr. Stanley left him was to write his letters--twenty for Great Britain, six for Bombay, two for New York, and one for Zanzibar. The two for New York were for Mr. Bennett of theNew York Herald, by whom Stanley had been sent to Africa.
Mr. Stanley has freely unfolded to us the bitterness of his heart in parting from Livingstone. "My days seem to have been spent in an Elysian field; otherwise, why should I so keenly regret the near approach of the parting hour? Have I not been battered by successive fevers, prostrate with agony day after day lately? Have I not raved and stormed in madness? Have I not clenched my fists in fury, and fought with the wild strength of despair when in delirium? Yet, I regret to surrender the pleasure I have felt in this man's society, though so dearly purchased....March 14th.--We had a sad breakfast together. I could not eat, my heart was too full; neither did my companion seem to have an appetite. We found something to do which kept us longer together. At eight o'clock I was not gone, and I had thought to have been off at five A.M.... We walked side by side; the men lifted their voices in a song. I took long looks at Livingstone, to impress his features thoroughly on my memory.... 'Now, my dear Doctor, the best friends must part. You have come far enough; let me beg of you to turn back.' 'Well,' Livingstone replied, 'I will say this to you: You have done what few men could do,--far better than some great travelers I know. And I am grateful to you for what you have done for me. God guide you safe home, and bless you, my friend,'--'And may God bring you safe back to us all, my dear friend. Farewell!'--'Farewell!"... My friendly reader, I wrote the above extracts in my Diary on the evening of each day. I look at them now after six months have passed away; yet I am not ashamed of them; my eyes feel somewhat dimmed at the recollection of the parting. I dared not erase, nor modify what I had penned, while my feelings were strong. God grant that if ever you take to traveling in Africa you will get as noble and true a man for your companion as David Livingstone! For four months and four days I lived with him in the same house, or in the same boat, or in the same tent, and I never found a fault in him. I am a man of a quick temper, and often without sufficient cause, I daresay, have broken the ties of friendship; but with Livingstone I never had cause for resentment, but each day's life with him added to my admiration for him."
If Stanley's feeling for Livingstone was thus at the warmest temperature, Livingstone's sense of the service done to him by Stanley was equally unqualified. Whatever else he might be or might not be, he had proved a true friend to him. He had risked his life in the attempt to reach him, had been delighted to share with him every comfort he possessed, and to leave with him ample stores of all that might be useful to him in his effort to finish his work. Whoever may have been to blame for it, it is certain that Livingstone had been afflicted for years, and latterly worried almost to death, by the inefficency and worthlessness of the men sent to serve him. In Stanley he found one whom he could trust implicitly to do everything that zeal and energy could contrive in order to find him efficient men and otherwise carry out his plans. It was Stanley therefore whom he commissioned to send him up men from Zanzibar. It was Stanley to whom he intrusted his Journal and other documents. Stanley had been his confidental friend for four months--the only white man to whom he talked for six years. It was matter of life and death to Livingstone to be supplied for this concluding piece of work far better than he had been for years back. What man in his senses would have failed in these circumstances to avail himself to the utmost of the services of one who had shown himself so efficient; would have put him aside to fall back on others, albeit his own countrymen, who, with all their good-will, had not been able to save him from robbery, beggary, and a half-broken heart.
Stanley's journey from Unyanyembe to Bagamoio was a perpetual struggle against hostile natives, flooded roads, slush, mire, and water, roaring torrents, ants and mosquitos, or, as he described it, the ten plagues of Egypt. On his reaching Bagamoio, on the 6th May, he found a new surprise. A white man dressed in flannels and helmet appeared, and as he met Stanley congratulated him on his splendid success. It was Lieutenant Henn, R.N., a member of the Search Expedition which the Royal Geographical Society and others had sent out to look for Livingstone. The resolution to organize such an Expedition was taken after news had come to England of the war between the Arabs and the natives at Unyanyembe, stopping the communication with Ujiji, and rendering it impossible, as it was thought, for Mr. Stanley to get to Livingstone's relief. The Expedition had been placed under command of Lieutenant Dawson, R.N., with Lieutenant Henn as second, and was joined by the Rev. Charles New, a Missionary from Mombasa, and Mr. W. Oswell Livingstone, youngest son of the Doctor. Stanley's arrival at Bagamoio had been preceded by that of some of his men, who brought the news that Livingstone had been found and relieved. On hearing this, Lieutenant Dawson hurried to Zanzibar to see Dr. Kirk, and resigned his command. Lieutenant Henn soon after followed his example by resigning too. They thought that as Dr. Livingstone had been relieved there was no need for their going on. Mr. New likewise declined, to proceed. Mr. W. Oswell Livingstone was thus left alone, at first full of the determination to go on to his father with the men whom Stanley was providing; but owing to the state of his health, and under the advice of Dr. Kirk, he, too, declined to accompany the Expedition, so that the men from Zanzibar proceeded to Unyanyembe alone.
On the 29th of May, Stanley, with Messrs. Henn, Livingstone, New, and Morgan, departed in the "Africa" from Zanzibar, and in due time reached Europe.
It was deeply to be regretted that an enterprise so beautiful and so entirely successful as Mr. Stanley's should have been in some degree marred by ebullitions of feeling little in harmony with the very joyous event. The leaders of the English Search Expedition and their friends felt, as they expressed it, that the wind had been taken out of their sails. They could not but rejoice that Livingstone had been found and relieved, but it was a bitter thought that they had had no hand in the process. It was galling to their feelings as Englishmen that the brilliant service had been done by a stranger, a newspaper correspondent, a citizen of another country. On a small scale that spirit of national jealousy showed itself, which on a wider arena has sometimes endangered the relations of England and America.
When Stanley reached England, it was not to be overwhelmed with gratitude. At first the Royal Geographical Society received him coldly. Instead of his finding Livingstone, it was surmised that Livingstone had found him. Strange things were said of him at the British Association at Brighton. The daily press actually challenged his truthfulness; some of the newspapers affected to treat his whole story as a myth. Stanley says frankly that this reception gave a tone of bitterness to his book--How I Found Livingstone--which it would not have had if he had understood the real state of things. But the heart of the nation was sound; the people believed in Stanley, and appreciated his service. At last the mists cleared away, and England acknowledged its debt to the American. The Geographical Society gave him the right hand of fellowship "with a warmth and generosity never to be forgotten." The President apologized for the words of suspicion he had previously used. Her Majesty the Queen presented Stanley with a special token of her regard. Unhappily, in the earlier stages of the affair, wounds had been inflicted which are not likely ever to be wholly healed. Words were spoken on both sides which cannot be recalled. But the great fact remains, and will be written on the page of history, that Stanley did a noble service to Livingstone, earning thereby the gratitude of England and of the civilized world.