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 the _New York Herald_ desired 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 the _New York Herald_ with 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 L1000 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.
[Footnote 74: The intimation of salary was premature. Livingstone got a pension of L800 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-natured _abandon_ about 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 Teufelsdroeckh’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 Lugize 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 haemorrhage 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 and _savants_, 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_, 18_th 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 the _New 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, and _if 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 the _New 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.
CHAPTER XXII.
FROM UNYANYEMBE TO BANGWEOLO.
A.D. 1872-73.
Livingstone’s long wait at Unyanyembe–His plan of operations–His fifty-ninth, birthday–Renewal of self-dedication–Letters to Agnes–to _New York Herald_–Hardness of the African battle–Waverings of judgment, whether Lualaba was the Nile or the Congo–Extracts from Journal–Gleams of humor–Natural history–His distress on hearing of the death of Sir Roderick Murchison–Thoughts on mission-work–Arrival of his escort–His happiness in his new men–He starts from Unyanyembe–Illness–Great amount of rain–Near Bangweolo–Incessant moisture–Flowers of the forest–Taking of observations regularly prosecuted–Dreadful state of the country from rain–Hunger–Furious attack of ants–Greatness of Livingstone’s sufferings–Letters to Sir Thomas Maclear, Mr. Young, his brother, and Agnes–His sixtieth birthday–Great weakness in April–Sunday services and observations continued–Increasing illness–The end approaching–Last written words–Last day of his travels–He reaches Chitambo’s village, in Ilala–Is found on his knees dead, on morning of 1st May–Courage and affection of his attendants–His body embalmed–Carried toward shore–Dangers and sufferings during the march–The party meet Lieutenant Cameron at Unyanyembe–Determine to go on–_Ruse_ at Kasekera–Death of Dr. Dillon–The party reach Bagamoio, and the remains are placed on board a cruiser–The Search Expeditions from England–to East Coast under Cameron–to West Coast under Grandy–Explanation of Expeditions by Sir Henry Rawlinson–Livingstone’s remains brought to England–Examined by Sir W. Fergusson and others–Buried in Westminster Abbey–Inscription on slab–Livingstone’s wish for a forest grave–Lines from _Punch_–Tributes to his memory–Sir Bartle Frere–The _Lancet_–Lord Polwarth–Florence Nightingale.
When Stanley left Livingstone at Unyanyembe there was nothing for the latter but to wait there until the men should come to him who were to be sent up from Zanzibar Stanley left on the 14th March; Livingstone calculated that he would reach Zanzibar on the 1st May, that his men would be ready to start about the 22d May, and that they ought to arrive at Unyanyembe on the 10th or 15th July. In reality, Stanley did not reach Bagamoio till the 6th May, the men were sent off about the 25th, and they reached Unyanyembe about the 9th August. A month more than had been counted on had to be spent at Unyanyembe, and this delay was all the more trying because it brought the traveler nearer to the rainy season.
The intention of Dr. Livingstone, when the men should come, was to strike south by Ufipa, go round Tanganyika, then cross the Chambeze, and bear away along the southern shore of Bangweolo, straight west to the ancient fountains; from them in eight days to Katanga copper mines; from Katanga, in ten days, northeast to the great underground excavations, and back again to Katanga; from which N.N.W. twelve days to the head of Lake Lincoln. “There I hope devoutly,” he writes to his daughter, “to thank the Lord of all, and turn my face along Lake Kamolondo, and over Lualaba, Tanganyika, Ujiji, and home.”
His stay at Unyanyembe was a somewhat dreary one; there was little to do and little to interest him. Five days after Stanley left him occurred his fifty-ninth birthday. How his soul was exercised appears from the renewal of his self-dedication recorded in his Journal:
“19_th March, Birthday_.–My Jesus, my King, my Life, my All; I again dedicate my whole self to Thee. Accept me, and grant, O gracious Father, that ere this year is gone I may finish my task. In Jesus’ name I ask it. Amen. So let it be. DAVID LIVINGSTONE.”
Frequent letters were written to his daughter from Unyanyembe, and they dwelt a good deal upon his difficulties, the treacherous way in which he had been treated, and the indescribable toil and suffering which had been the result. He said that in complaining to Dr. Kirk of the men whom he had employed, and the disgraceful use they had made of his (Kirk’s) name, he never meant to charge him with being the author of their crimes, and it never occurred to him to say to Kirk, “I don’t believe you to be the traitor they imply;” but Kirk took his complaint in high dudgeon as a covert attack upon himself, and did not act toward him as he ought to have done, considering what he owed him. His cordial and uniform testimony of Stanley was, “altogether he has behaved right nobly.”
On the 1st May he finished a letter for the _New York Herald_, and asked God’s blessing on it. It contained the memorable words afterward inscribed on the stone to his memory in Westminster Abbey: “All I can add in my loneliness is, may Heaven’s rich blessing come down on every one–American, English, or Turk–who will help to heal the open sore of the world.” It happened that the words were written precisely a year before his death.
Amid the universal darkness around him, the universal ignorance of God and of the grace and love of Jesus Christ, it was hard to believe that Africa should ever be won. He had to strengthen his faith amid this universal desolation. We read in his Journal:
“13_th May_.–He will keep his word–the gracious One, full of grace and truth; no doubt of it. He said: ‘Him that cometh unto me, I will in no wise cast out;’ and ‘Whatsoever ye shall ask in my name, I will give it.’ He WILL keep his word: then I can come and humbly present my petition, and it will be all right. Doubt is here inadmissible, surely, D.L.”
His mind ruminates on the river system of the country and the probability of his being in error:
“2l_st May_.–I wish I had some of the assurance possessed by others, but I am oppressed with the apprehension that, after all, it may turn out that I have been following the Congo; and who would risk being put into a cannibal pot, and converted into black man for _it?_”
“31_st May_.–In reference to this Nile source, I have been kept in perpetual doubt and perplexity. I know too much to be positive. Great Lualaba, or Lualubba, as Manyuema say, may turn out to be the Congo, and Nile a shorter river after all[75]. The fountains flowing north and south seem in favor of its being the Nile. Great westing is in favor of the Congo.”
[Footnote 75: From false punctuation, this passage is unintelligible in the _Last Journals_, vol. ii. p. 193.]
“24_th June_.–The medical education has led me to a continual tendency to suspend the judgment. What a state of blessedness it would have been, had I possessed the dead certainty of the homoeopathic persuasion, and as soon as I found the Lakes Bangweolo, Moero, and Kamolondo, pouring out their waters down the great central valley, bellowed out, ‘Hurrah! Eureka!’ and gone home in firm and honest belief that I had settled it, and no mistake. Instead of that, I am even now not at all ‘cock-sure’ that I have not been following down what may after all be the Congo.”
We now know that this was just what he had been doing. But we honor him all the more for the diffidence that would not adopt a conclusion while any part of the evidence was wanting, and that led him to encounter unexampled risks and hardships before he would affirm his favorite view as a fact. The moral lesson thus enforced is invaluable. We are almost thankful that Livingstone never got his doubts solved, it would have been such a disappointment; even had he known that in all time coming the great stream which had cast on him such a resistless spell would be known as the Livingstone River, and would perpetuate the memory of his life and his efforts for the good of Africa.
Occasionally his Journal gives a gleam, of humor: “18_th June_.–The Ptolemaic map defines people according to their food,–the Elephantophagi, the Struthiophagi, the Ichthiophagi, and the Anthropophagi, If we followed the same sort of classification, our definition would be by the drink, thus: the tribe of stout-guzzlers, the roaring potheen-fuddlers, the whisky-fishoid-drinkers, the vin-ordinaire bibbers, the lager-beer-swillers, and an outlying tribe of the brandy cocktail persuasion.”
Natural History furnishes an unfailing interest: “19_th June_.–Whydahs, though full-fledged, still gladly take a feed from their dam, putting down the breast to the ground, and cocking up the bill and chirruping in the most engaging manner and winning way they know. She still gives them a little, but administers a friendly shove-off too. They all pick up feathers or grass, and hop from side to side of their mates, as if saying, ‘Come, let us play at making little houses.’ The wagtail has shaken her young quite off, and has a new nest. She warbles prettily, very much like a canary, and is extremely active in catching flies, but eats crumbs of bread-and-milk too. Sun-birds visit the pomegranate flowers, and eat insects therein too, as well as nectar. The young whydah birds crouch closely together at night for heat. They look like a woolly ball on a branch. By day they engage in pairing and coaxing each other. They come to the same twig every night. Like children, they try and lift heavy weights of feathers above their strength.”
On 3d July a very sad entry occurs: “Received a note from Oswell, written in April last, containing the sad intelligence of Sir Roderick’s departure from among us. Alas! alas! this is the only time in my life I ever felt inclined to use the word, and it bespeaks a sore heart; the best friend I ever had,–true, warm, and abiding,–he loved me more than I deserved; he looks down on me still.” This entry indicates extraordinary depth of emotion. Sir Roderick exercised a kind of spell on Livingstone. Respect for him was one of the subordinate motives that induced him to undertake this journey. The hope of giving him satisfaction was one of the subordinate rewards to which he looked forward. His death was to Livingstone a kind of scientific widowhood, and must have deprived him of a great spring to exertion in this last wandering. On Sir Roderick’s part the affection for him was very great. “Looking back,” says his biographer, Professor Geikie, “upon his scientific career when not far from its close, Murchison found no part of it which brought more pleasing recollections than the support he had given to African explorers–Speke, Grant, notably Livingstone. ‘I rejoice,’ he said, ‘in the steadfast tenacity with which I have upheld my confidence in the ultimate success of the last-named of these brave men. In fact, it was the confidence I placed in the undying vigor of my dear friend Livingstone which has sustained me in the hope that I might live to enjoy the supreme delight of welcoming him back to his own country.’ But that consummation was not to be. He himself was gathered to his rest just six days before Stanley brought news and relief to the forlorn traveler on Lake Tanganyika. And Livingstone, while still in pursuit of his quest, and within ten months of his death, learned in the heart of Africa the tidings which he chronicled in his journal[76].”
[Footnote 76: _Life of Sir R. I. Murchison_, vol. ii. pp. 297-8.]
At other times he is ruminating on mission-work:
“10_th July_.–No great difficulty would be encountered in establishing a Christian mission a hundred miles or so from the East Coast…. To the natives the chief attention of the mission should be directed. It would not be desirable or advisable to refuse explanation to others; but I have avoided giving offense to intelligent Arabs, who, having pressed me, asking if I believed in Mohamed, by saying, ‘No, I do not; I am a child of Jesus bin Miriam,’ avoiding anything offensive in my tone, and often adding that Mohamed found their forefathers bowing down to trees and stones, and did good to them by forbidding idolatry, and teaching the worship of the only One God. This they all know, and it pleases them to have it recognized. It might be good policy to hire a respectable Arab to engage free porters, and conduct the mission to the country chosen, and obtain permission from the chief to build temporary houses…. A couple of Europeans beginning and carrying on a mission without a staff of foreign attendants, implies coarse country fare, it is true; but this would be nothing to those who at home amuse themselves with vigils, fasting, etc. A great deal of power is thus lost in the Church. Fastings and vigils, without a special object in view, are time run to waste. They are made to minister to a sort of self-gratification, instead of being turned to account for the good of others. They are like groaning in sickness: some people amuse themselves when ill with continuous moaning. The forty days of Lent might be annually spent in visiting adjacent tribes, and bearing unavoidable hunger and thirst with a good grace. Considering the greatness of the object to be attained, men might go without sugar, coffee, tea, as I went from September, 1866, to December, 1868, without either.”
On the subject of Missions he says, at a later period, 8th November: “The spirit of missions is the spirit of our Master; the very genius of his religion. A diffusive philanthropy is Christianity itself. It requires perpetual propagation to attest its genuineness.”
Thanks to Mr. Stanley and the American Consul, who made arrangements in a way that drew Livingstone’s warmest gratitude, his escort arrived at last, consisting of fifty-seven men and boys. Several of these had gone with Mr. Stanley from Unyanyembe to Zanzibar; among the new men were some Nassick pupils who had been sent from Bombay to join Lieutenant Dawson. John and Jacob Wainwright were among these. To Jacob Wainwright, who was well-educated, we owe the earliest narrative that appeared of the last eight months of Livingstone’s career. How happy he was with the men now sent to him appears from a letter to Mr. Stanley, written very near his death: “I am perpetually reminded that I owe a great deal to you for the men, you sent. With one exception, the party is working like a machine. I give my orders to Manwa Sera, and never have to repeat them.” Would that he had had such a company before!
On the 25th August the party started. On the 8th October they reached Tanganyika, and rested, for they were tired, and several were sick, including Livingstone, who had been ill with his bowel disorder. The march went on slowly, and with few incidents. As the season advanced, rain, mist, swollen streams, and swampy ground became familiar. At the end of the year they were approaching the river Chambeze. Christmas had its thanksgiving: “I thank the good Lord for the good gift of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.”
In the second week of January they came near Bangweolo, and the reign of Neptune became incessant. We are told of cold rainy weather; sometimes a drizzle, sometimes an incessant pour; swollen streams and increasing sponges,–making progress a continual struggle. Yet, as he passes through a forest, he has an eye to its flowers, which are numerous and beautiful:
“There are many flowers in the forest; marigolds, a white jonquil-looking flower without smell, many orchids, white, yellow, and pink asclepias, with bunches of French-white flowers, clematis–_Methonica gloriosa_, gladiolus, and blue and deep purple polygalas, grasses with white starry seed-vessels, and spikelets of brownish red and yellow. Besides these, there are beautiful blue flowering bulbs, and new flowers of pretty, delicate form and but little scent. To this list may be added balsams, composite of blood-red color and of purple; other flowers of liver color, bright canary yellow, pink orchids on spikes thickly covered all round, and of three inches in length; spiderworts of fine blue or yellow or even pink. Different colored asclepiadeae; beautiful yellow and red umbelliferous flowering plants; dill and wild parsnips; pretty flowering aloes, yellow and red, in one whorl of blossoms; peas and many other flowering plants which I do not know.”
Observations were taken with unremitting diligence, except when, as was now common, nothing could be seen in the heavens. As they advanced, the weather became worse. It rained as if nothing but rain were ever known in the watershed. The path lay across flooded rivers, which were distinguished by their currents only from the flooded country along their banks. Dr. Livingstone had to be carried over the rivers on the back of one of his men, in the fashion so graphically depicted on the cover of the _Last Journals_. The stretches of sponge that came before and after the rivers, with their long grass and elephant-holes, were scarcely less trying. The inhabitants were, commonly, most unfriendly to the party; they refused them food, and, whenever they could, deceived them as to the way. Hunger bore down on the party with its bitter gnawing. Once a mass of furious ants attacked the Doctor by night, driving him in despair from hut to hut. Any frame but one of Iron must have succumbed to a single month of such a life, and before a week was out, any body of men, not held together by a power of discipline and a charm of affection unexampled in the history of difficult expeditions, would have been scattered to the four winds. Livingstone’s own sufferings were beyond all previous example.
About this time he began an undated letter–his last–to his old friends Sir Thomas Maclear and Mr. Mann. It was never finished, and never despatched; but as one of the latest things he ever wrote, it is deeply interesting, as showing how clear, vigorous, and independent his mind was to the very last:
“LAKE BANGWEOLO, SOUTH CENTRAL AFRICA.
“MY DEAR FRIENDS MACLEAR AND MANN,–… My work at present is mainly retracing my steps to take up the thread of my exploration. It counts in my lost time, but I try to make the most of it by going round outside this lake and all the sources, so that no one may come afterward and cut me out. I have a party of good men, selected by H. M. Stanley, who, at the instance of James Gordon Bennett, of the _New York Herald_, acted the part of a good Samaritan truly, and relieved my sore necessities. A dutiful son could not have done more than he generously did. I bless him. The men, fifty-six in number, have behaved as well as Makololo. I cannot award them higher praise, though they have not the courage of that brave kind-hearted people. From Unyanyembe we went due south to avoid an Arab war which had been going on for eighteen months. It is like one of our Caffre wars, with this difference–no one is enriched thereby, for all trade is stopped, and the Home Government pays nothing. We then went westward to Tanganyika, and along its eastern excessively mountainous bank to the end. The heat was really broiling among the rocks. No rain had fallen, and the grass being generally burned off, the heat rose off the black ashes as if out of an oven, yet the flowers persisted in coming out of the burning soil, and generally without leaves, as if it had been a custom that they must observe by a law of the Medes and Persians. This part detained us long; the men’s limbs were affected with a sort of subcutaneous inflammation,–black rose or erysipelas,–and when I proposed mildly and medically to relieve the tension it was too horrible to be thought of, but they willingly carried the helpless. Then we mounted up at once into the high, cold region Urungu, south of Tanganyika, and into the middle of the rainy season, with well-grown grass and everything oppressively green; rain so often that no observations could be made, except at wide intervals. I could form no opinion as to our longitude, and but little of our latitudes. Three of the Baurungu chiefs, one a great friend of mine, Nasonso, had died, and the population all turned topsy-turvy, so I could make no use of previous observations. They elect sisters’ or brothers’ sons to the chieftainship, instead of the heir-apparent. Food was not to be had for either love or money.
“I was at the mercy of guides who did not know their own country, and when I insisted on following the compass, they threatened, ‘no food for five or ten days in that line.’ They brought us down to the back or north side of Bangweolo, while I wanted to cross the Chambeze and go round its southern side. So back again southeastward we had to bend. The Portuguese crossed this Chambeze a long time ago, and are therefore the first European discoverers. We were not black men with Portuguese names like those for whom the feat of crossing the continent was eagerly claimed by Lisbon statesmen. Dr. Lacerda was a man of scientific attainments, and Governor of Tette, but finding Cazembe at the rivulet called Chungu, he unfortunately succumbed to fever ten days after his arrival. He seemed anxious to make his way across to Angola. Misled by the similarity of Chambeze to Zambesi, they all thought it to be a branch of the river that flows past Tette, Senna, and Shupanga, by Luabo and Kongone to the sea.
“I rather stupidly took up the same idea from a map saying ‘Zambesi’ (eastern branch), believing that the map printer had some authority for his assertion. My first crossing was thus as fruitless as theirs, and I was less excusable, for I ought to have remembered that while Chambeze is the true native name of the northern river, Zambesi is not the name of the southern river at all. It is a Portugese corruption of Dombazi, which we adopted rather than introduce confusion by new names, in the same way that we adopted Nyassa instead of Nyanza ia Nyinyesi == Lake of the Stars, which the Portuguese, from hearsay, corrupted into Nyassa. The English have been worse propagators of nonsense than Portuguese. ‘Geography of Nyassa’ was thought to be a learned way of writing the name, though ‘Nyassi’ means long grass and nothing else. It took me twenty-two months to eliminate the error into which I was led, and then it was not by my own acuteness, but by the chief Cazembe, who was lately routed and slain by a party of Banyamwezi. He gave me the first hint of the truth, and that rather in a bantering strain: ‘One piece of water is just like another; Bangweolo water is just like Moero water, Chambeze water like Luapula water; they are all the same; but your chief ordered you to go to the Bangweolo, therefore by all means go, but wait a few days, till I have looked out for good men as guides, and good food for you to eat,’ etc. etc.
“I was not sure but that it was all royal chaff, till I made my way back south to the head-waters again, and had the natives of the islet Mpabala slowly moving the hands all around the great expanse, with 183 deg. of sea horizon, and saying that is Chambeze, forming the great Bangweolo, and disappearing behind that western headland to change its name to Luapula, and run down past Cazembe to Moero. That was the moment of discovery, and not my passage or the Portuguese passage of the river. If, however, any one chooses to claim for them the discovery of Chambeze as one line of drainage of the Nile Valley, I shall not fight with him; Culpepper’s astrology was in the same way the forerunner of the Herschels’ and the other astronomers that followed.”
To another old friend, Mr. James Young, he wrote about the same time: “_Opere peracto ludemus_–the work being finished, we will play–you remember in your Latin Rudiments lang syne. It is true for you, and I rejoice to think it is now your portion, after working nobly, to play. May you have a long spell of it! I am differently situated; I shall never be able to play…. To me it seems to be said, ‘If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that be ready to be slain; if thou sayest, Behold we knew it not, doth not He that pondereth the heart consider, and He that keepeth thy soul doth He not know, and shall He not give to every one according to his works?’ I have been led, unwittingly, into the slaving field of the Banians and Arabs in Central Africa. I have seen the woes inflicted, and I must still work and do all I can to expose and mitigate the evils. Though hard work is still to be my lot, I look genially on others more favored in their lot. I would not be a member of the ‘International,’ for I love to see and think of others enjoying life.
“During a large part of this journey I had a strong presentiment that I should never live to finish it. It is weakened now, as I seem to see the end toward which I have been striving looming in the distance. This presentiment did not interfere with the performance of any duty; it only made me think a great deal more of the future state of being.”
In his latest letters there is abundant evidence that the great desire of his heart was to expose the slave-trade, rouse public feeling, and get that great hindrance to all good for ever swept away.
“Spare no pains,” he wrote to Dr. Kirk in 1871, “in attempting to persuade your superior to this end, and the Divine blessing will descend on you and yours.”
To his daughter Agnes he wrote (15th August, 1872): “No one can estimate the amount of God-pleasing good that will be done, if, by Divine favor, this awful slave-trade, into the midst of which I have come, be abolished. This will be something to have lived for, and the conviction has grown in my mind that it was _for this end_ I have been detained so long.”
To his brother in Canada he says (December, 1872): “If the good Lord permits me to put a stop to the enormous evils of the inland slave-trade, I shall not grudge my hunger and toils. I shall bless his name with all my heart. The Nile sources are valuable to me only as a means of enabling me to open my mouth with power among men. It is this power I hope to apply to remedy an enormous evil, and join my poor little helping hand in the enormous revolution that in his all-embracing Providence He has been carrying on for ages, and is now actually helping forward. Men may think I covet fame, but I make it a rule never to read aught written in my praise.”
Livingstone’s last birthday (19th March, 1873) found him in much the same circumstances as before. “Thanks to the Almighty Preserver of men for sparing me thus far on the journey of life. Can I hope for ultimate success? So many obstacles have arisen. Let not Satan prevail over me, O my good Lord Jesus.” A few days after (24th March): “Nothing earthly will make me give up my work in despair. I encourage myself in the Lord my God, and go forward.”
In the beginning of April, the bleeding from the bowels, from which he had been suffering, became more copious, and his weakness was pitiful; still he longed for strength to finish his work. Even yet the old passion for natural history was strong; the aqueous plants that abounded everywhere, the caterpillars that after eating the plants ate one another, and were such clumsy swimmers; the fish with the hook-shaped lower jaw that enabled them to feed as they skimmed past the plants; the morning summons of the cocks and turtle-doves; the weird scream of the fish eagle–all engaged his interest. Observations continued to be taken, and the Sunday services were always held.
But on the 21st April a change occurred. In a shaky hand he wrote: “Tried to ride, but was forced to lie down, and they carried me back to vil. exhausted.” A kitanda or palanquin had to be made for carrying him. It was sorry work, for his pains were excruciating and his weakness excessive. On the 27th April[77] he was apparently at the lowest ebb, and wrote in his Journal the last words he ever penned–“Knocked up quite, and remain == recover sent to buy milch goats. We are on the banks of R. Molilamo.”
[Footnote 77: This was the eleventh anniversary of his wife’s death.]
The word “recover” seems to show that he had no presentiment of death, but cherished the hope of recovery; and Mr. Waller has pointed out, from his own sad observation of numerous cases in connection with the Universities Mission, that malarial poisoning is usually unattended with the apprehension of death, and that in none of these instances, any more than in the case of Livingstone, were there any such messages, or instructions, or expressions of trust and hope as are usual on the part of Christian men when death is near.
The 29th of April was the last day of his travels. In the morning he directed Susi to take down the side of the hut that the kitanda might be brought along, as the door would not admit it, and he was quite unable to walk to it. Then came the crossing of a river; then progress through swamps and plashes; and when they got to anything like a dry plain, he would ever and anon beg of them to lay him down. At last they got him to Chitambo’s village, in Ilala, where they had to put him under the eaves of a house during a drizzling rain, until the hut they were building should be got ready.
Then they laid him on a rough bed in the hut, where he spent the night. Next day he lay undisturbed. He asked a few wandering questions about the country–especially about the Luapula. His people knew that the end could not be far off. Nothing occurred to attract notice during the early part of the night, but at four in the morning, the boy who lay at his door called in alarm for Susi, fearing that their master was dead. By the candle still burning they saw him, not in bed, but kneeling at the bedside with his head buried in his hands upon the pillow. The sad yet not unexpected truth soon became evident: he had passed away on the furthest of all his journeys, and without a single attendant. But he had died in the act of prayer–prayer offered in that reverential attitude about which he was always so particular; commending his own spirit, with all his dear ones, as was his wont, into the hands of his Saviour; and commending AFRICA–his own dear Africa–with all her woes and sins and wrongs, to the Avenger of the oppressed and the Redeemer of the lost.
If anything were needed to commend the African race, and prove them possessed of qualities fitted to make a noble nation, the courage, affection, and persevering loyalty shown by his attendants after his death might well have this effect. When the sad event became known among the men, it was cordially resolved that every effort should be made to carry their master’s remains to Zanzibar. Such an undertaking was extremely perilous, for there were not merely the ordinary risks of travel to a small body of natives, but there was also the superstitious horror everywhere prevalent connected with the dead. Chitambo must be kept in ignorance of what had happened, otherwise a ruinous fine would be sure to be inflicted on them. The secret, however, oozed out, but happily the chief was reasonable. Susi and Chuma, the old attendants of Livingstone, became now the leaders of the company, and they fulfilled their task right nobly. The interesting narrative of Mr. Waller at the end of the _Last Journals_ tells us how calmly yet efficiently they set to work. Arrangements were made for drying and embalming the body, after removing and burying the heart and other viscera. For fourteen days the body was dried in the sun. After being wrapped in calico, and the legs bent inward at the knees, it was enclosed in a large piece of bark from a Myonga-tree in the form of a cylinder; over this a piece of sail-cloth was sewed; and the package was lashed to a pole, so as to be carried by two men. Jacob Wainwright carved an inscription on the Mvula tree under which the body had rested, and where the heart was buried, and Chitambo was charged to keep the grass cleared away, and to protect two posts and a cross-piece which they erected to mark the spot.
They then set out on their homeward march. It was a serious journey, for the terrible exposure had affected the health of most of them, and many had to lie down through sickness. The tribes through which they passed were generally friendly, but not always. At one place they had a regular fight. On the whole, their progress was wonderfully quiet and regular. Everywhere they found that the news of the Doctor’s death had got before them. At one place they heard that a party of Englishmen, headed by Dr. Livingstone’s son, on their way to relieve his father, had been seen at Bagamoio some months previously. As they approached Unyanyembe, they learned that the party was there, but when Chuma ran on before, he was disappointed to find that Oswell Livingstone was not among them. Lieutenant Cameron, Dr. Dillon, and Lieutenant Murphy were there, and heard the tidings of the men with deep emotion. Cameron wished them to bury the remains where they were, and not run the risk of conveying them through the Ugogo country; but the men were inflexible, determined to carry out their first intention. This was not the only interference with these devoted and faithful men. Considering how carefully they had gathered all Livingstone’s property, and how conscientiously, at the risk of their lives, they were carrying it to the coast, to transfer it to the British Consul there, it was not warrantable in the new-comers to take the boxes from them, examine their contents, and carry off a part of them. Nor do we think Lieutenant Cameron was entitled to take away the instruments with which all Livingstone’s observations had been made for a series of seven years, and use them, though only temporarily, for the purpose of his Expedition, inasmuch as he thereby made it impossible so to reduce Livingstone’s observations as that correct results should be obtained from them. Sir Henry Rawlinson seems not to have adverted to this result of Mr. Cameron’s act, in his reference to the matter from the chair of the Geographical Society.
On leaving Unyanyembe the party were joined by Lieutenant Murphy, not much to the promotion of unity of action or harmonious feeling. At Kasekera a spirit of opposition was shown by the inhabitants, and a _ruse_ was resorted to so as to throw them off their guard. It was resolved to pack the remains in such form that when wrapped in calico they should appear like an ordinary bale of merchandise. A fagot of mapira stalks, cut into lengths of about six feet, was then swathed in cloth, to imitate a dead body about to be buried. This was sent back along the way to Unyanyembe, as if the party had changed their minds and resolved to bury the remains there. The bearers, at nightfall, began to throw away the mapira rods, and then the wrappings, and when they had thus disposed of them they returned to their companions. The villagers of Kasekera had now no suspicion, and allowed the party to pass unmolested. But though one tragedy was averted, another was enacted at Kasekera–the dreadful suicide of Dr. Dillon while suffering from dysentery and fever.
The cortege now passed on without further incident, and arrived at Bagamoio in February, 1874. Soon after they reached Bagamoio a cruiser arrived from Zanzibar, with the acting Consul, Captain Prideaux, on board, and the remains were conveyed to that island previous to their being sent to England.
The men that for nine long months remained steadfast to their purpose to pay honor to the remains of their master, in the midst of innumerable trials and dangers and without hope of reward, have established a strong claim to the gratitude and admiration of the world. Would that the debt were promptly repaid in efforts to free Africa from her oppressors, and send throughout all her borders the Divine proclamation, “Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, good-will to men.”
In regard to the Search party to which reference has been made, it may be stated that when Livingstone’s purpose to go back to the barbarous regions where he had suffered so much before became known in England it excited a feeling of profound concern. Two Expeditions were arranged. That to the East Coast, organized by the Royal Geographical Society, was placed under Lieutenant Cameron, and included in its ranks Robert Moffat, a grandson of Dr. Moffat’s, who (as has been already stated) fell early a sacrifice to fever. The members of the Expedition suffered much from sickness; it was broken up at Unyanyembe, when the party bearing the remains of Dr. Livingstone was met. The other party, under command of Lieutenant Grandy, was to go to the West Coast, start from Loanda, strike the Congo, and move on to Lake Lincoln. This Expedition was fitted out solely at the cost of Mr. Young. He was deeply concerned for the safety of his friend, knowing how he was hated by the slave-traders whose iniquities he had exposed, and thinking it likely that if he once reached Lake Lincoln he would make for the west coast along the Congo. The purpose of these Expeditions is carefully explained in a letter addressed to Dr. Livingstone by Sir Henry Rawlinson, then President of the Royal Geographical Society:
“LONDON, _November_ 20, 1872.
“DEAR DR. LIVINGSTONE,–You will no doubt have heard of Sir Bartle Frere’s deputation to Zanzibar long before you receive this, and you will have learnt with heartfelt satisfaction that there is now a definite prospect of the infamous East African slave-trade being suppressed. For this great end, if it be achieved, we shall be mainly indebted to your recent letters, which have had a powerful effect on the public mind in England, and have thus stimulated the action of the Government. Sir Bartle will keep you informed of his arrangements, if there are any means of communicating with the interior, and I am sure you will assist him to the utmost of your power in carrying out the good work in which he is engaged.
“It was a great disappointment to us that Lieutenant Dawson’s Expedition, which we fitted out in the beginning of the year with such completeness, did not join you at Unyanyembe, for it could not have failed to be of service to you in many ways. We are now trying to aid you with a second Expedition under Lieutenant Cameron, whom we have sent out under Sir Bartle’s orders, to join you if possible in the vicinity of Lake Tanganyika, and attend to your wishes in respect to his further movements. We leave it entirely to your discretion whether you like to keep Mr. Cameron with you or to send him on to the Victoria Nyanza, or any other points that you are unable to visit yourself. Of course the great point of interest connected with your present exploration is the determination of the lower course of the Lualaba. Mr. Stanley still adheres to the view, which you formerly held, that it drains into the Nile; but if the levels which you give are correct, this is impossible. At any rate, the opinion of the identity of the Congo and Lualaba is now becoming so universal that Mr. Young has come forward with a donation of L2000 to enable us to send another Expedition to your assistance up that river, and Lieutenant Grandy, with a crew of twenty Kroomen, will accordingly be pulling up the Congo before many months are over. Whether he will really be able to penetrate to your unvisited lake, or beyond it to Lake Lincoln, is, of course, a matter of great doubt; but it will at any rate be gratifying to you to know that support is approaching you both from the west and east. We all highly admire and appreciate your indomitable energy and perseverance, and the Geographical Society will do everything in its power to support you, so as to compensate in some measure for the loss you have sustained in the death of your old friend Sir Roderick Murchison. My own tenure of office expires in May, and it is not yet decided who is to succeed me, but whoever may be our President, our interest in your proceedings will not slacken. Mr. Waller will, I daresay, have told you that we have just sent a memorial to Mr. Gladstone, praying that a pension may be at once conferred upon your daughters, and I have every hope that our prayer may be successful. You will see by the papers, now sent to you, that there has been much acrimonious discussion of late on African affairs. I have tried myself in every possible way to throw oil on the troubled waters, and begin to hope now for something like peace. I shall be very glad to hear from you if you can spare time to send me a line, and will always keep a watchful eye over your interests.–I remain, yours very truly, “H.C. RAWLINSON.”
The remains were brought to Aden on board the “Calcutta,” and thereafter transferred to the P. and O. steamer “Malwa,” which arrived at Southampton on the 15th of April. Mr. Thomas Livingstone, eldest surviving son of the Doctor, being then in Egypt on account of his health[78], had gone on board at Alexandria. The body was conveyed to London by special train and deposited in the rooms of the Geographical Society in Saville Row.
[Footnote 78: Thomas never regained robust health. He died at Alexandria, 15th March, 1876.]
In the course of the evening the remains were examined by Sir William Fergusson and several other medical gentleman, including Dr. Loudon, of Hamilton, whose professional skill and great kindness to his family had gained for him a high place in the esteem and love of Livingstone. To many persons it had appeared so incredible that the remains should have been brought from the heart of Africa to London, that some conclusive identification of the body seemed to be necessary to set all doubt at rest. The state of the arm, the one that had been broken by the lion, supplied the crucial evidence. “Exactly in the region of the attachment of the deltoid to the humerus” (said Sir William Fergusson in a contribution to the _Lancet_, April 18, 1874), “there were the indications of an oblique fracture. On moving the arm there were the indications of an ununited fracture. A closer identification and dissection displayed the false joint that had so long ago been so well recognized by those who had examined the arm in former days…. The first glance set my mind at rest, and that, with the further examination, made me as positive as to the identification of these remains as that there has been among us in modern times one of the greatest men of the human race–David Livingstone.”
On Saturday, April 18, 1874, the remains of the great traveler were committed to their resting-place near the centre of the nave of Westminster Abbey. Many old friends of Livingstone came to be present, and many of his admirers, who could not but avail themselves of the opportunity to pay a last tribute of respect to his memory. The Abbey was crowded in every part from which the spectacle might be seen. The pall-bearers were Mr. H.M. Stanley, Jacob Wainwright, Sir T. Steele, Dr. Kirk, Mr. W.F. Webb, Rev. Horace Waller, Mr. Oswell, and Mr. E.D. Young. Two of these, Mr. Waller and Dr. Kirk, along with Dr. Stewart, who was also present, had assisted twelve years before at the funeral of Mrs. Livingstone at Shupanga. Dr. Moffat, too, was there, full of sorrowful admiration. Amid a service which was emphatically impressive throughout, the simple words of the hymn, sung to the tune of Tallis, were peculiarly touching:
“O God of Bethel! by whose hand
Thy people still are fed,
Who through this weary pilgrimage Hast all our fathers led.”
The black slab that now marks the resting-place of Livingstone bears this inscription:
BROUGHT BY FAITHFUL HANDS
OVER LAND AND SEA,
HERE RESTS
DAVID LIVINGSTONE,
MISSIONARY, TRAVELER, PHILANTHROPIST,
BORN MARCH 19, 1813,
AT BLANTYRE, LANARKSHIRE.
DIED MAY 4,[79] 1873,
AT CHITAMBO’S VILLAGE, ILALA.
[Footnote 79: In the _Last Journals_ the date is 1st May; on the stone, 4th May. The attendants could not quite determine the day.]
For thirty years his life was spent in an unwearied effort to evangelize the native races, to explore the undiscovered secrets, and abolish the desolating slave-trade of Central Africa, and where, with his last words he wrote: “All I can say in my solitude is, may Heaven’s rich blessing come down on every one–American, English, Turk– who will help to heal this open sore of the world.”
Along the right border of the stone are the words:
TANTUS AMOR VERI, NIHIL EST QUOD NOSCERE MALIM QUAM FLUVII CAUSAS PER SAECULA TANTA LATEHTES.
And along the left border:
OTHER SHEEP I HAVE WHICH ARE NOT OF THIS FOLD, THEM ALSO I MUST BRING, AND THEY SHALL HEAR MY VOICE.
On the 25th June, 1868, not far from the northern border of that lake Bangweolo on whose southern shore he passed away, Dr. Livingstone came on a grave in a forest. He says of it:
“It was a little rounded mound, as if the occupant sat in it in the usual native way; it was strewed over with flour, and a number of the large blue beads put on it; a little path showed that it had visitors. This is the sort of grave I should prefer: to be in the still, still forest, and no hand ever disturb my bones. The graves at home always seemed to me to be miserable, especially those in the cold, damp clay, and without elbow-room; but I have nothing to do but wait till He who is over all decides where I have to lay me down and die. Poor Mary lies on Shupanga brae, ‘and beeks fornent the sun.'”
“He who is over all” decreed that while his heart should lie in a leafy forest, in such a spot as he loved, his bones should repose in a great Christian temple, where many, day by day, as they read his name, would recall his noble Christian life, and feel how like he was to Him of whom it is written: “The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me; because the Lord hath anointed me to preach good tidings to the meek: He hath sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound; to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord, and the day of vengeance of our God; to comfort all that mourn; to appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the Lord; that He might be glorified.”
“Droop half-mast colors, bow, bareheaded crowds, As this plain coffin o’er the side is slung, To pass by woods of masts and ratlined shrouds, As erst by Afric’s trunks, liana-hung.
‘Tis the last mile of many thousands trod With failing strength but never-failing will, By the worn frame, now at its rest with God, That never rested from its fight with ill.
Or if the ache of travel and of toil Would sometimes wring a short, sharp cry of pain From agony of fever, blain, and boil, ‘Twas but to crush it down and on again!
He knew not that the trumpet he had blown Out of the darkness of that dismal land, Had reached and roused an army of its own To strike the chains from the slave’s fettered hand.
Now we believe, he knows, sees all is well; How God had stayed his will and shaped his way, To bring the light to those that darkling dwell With gains that life’s devotion well repay.
Open the Abbey doors and bear him in To sleep with king and statesman, chief and sage, The missionary come of weaver-kin,
But great by work that brooks no lower wage.
He needs no epitaph to guard a name Which men shall prize while worthy work is known; He lived and died for good–be that his fame: Let marble crumble: this is Living–stone.”–_Punch_.
Eulogiums on the dead are often attempts, sometimes sufficiently clumsy, to conceal one-half of the truth and fill the eye with the other. In the case of Livingstone there is really nothing to conceal. In tracing his life in these pages we have found no need for the brilliant colors of the rhetorician, the ingenuity of the partisan, or the enthusiasm of the hero-worshiper. We have felt, from first to last, that a plain, honest statement of the truth regarding him would be a higher panegyric than any ideal picture that could be drawn. The best tributes paid to his memory by distinguished countrymen were the most literal–we might almost say the most prosaic. It is but a few leaves we can reproduce of the many wreaths that were laid on his tomb.
Sir Bartle Frere, as President of the Royal Geographical Society, after a copious notice of his life, summed it up in these words: “As a whole, the work of his life will surely be held up in ages to come as one of singular nobleness of design, and of unflinching energy and self-sacrifice in execution. It will be long ere any one man will be able to open so large an extent of unknown land to civilized mankind. Yet longer, perhaps, ere we find a brighter example of a life of such continued and useful self-devotion to a noble cause.”
In a recent letter to Dr. Livingstone’s eldest daughter, Sir Bartle Frere (after saying that he was first introduced to Dr. Livingstone by Mr. Phillip, the painter, as “one of the noblest men he had ever met,” and rehearsing the history of his early acquaintance) remarks:
“I could hardly venture to describe my estimate of his character as a Christian further than by saying that I never met a man who fulfilled more completely my idea of a perfect Christian gentleman,–actuated in what he thought and said and did by the highest and most chivalrous spirit, modeled on the precepts of his great Master and Exemplar.
“As a man of science, I am less competent to judge, for my knowledge of his work is to a great extent second-hand; but derived, as it is, from observers like Sir Thomas Maclear, and geographers like Arrowsmith, I believe him to be quite unequaled as a scientific traveler, in the care and accuracy with which he observed. In other branches of science I had more opportunities of satisfying myself, and of knowing how keen and accurate was his observation, and how extensive his knowledge of everything connected with natural science; but every page of his journals, to the last week of his life, testified to his wonderful natural powers and accurate observation. Thirdly, as a missionary and explorer I have always put him in the very first rank. He seemed to me to possess in the most wonderful degree that union of opposite qualities which were required for such a work as opening out heathen Africa to Christianity and civilization. No man had a keener sympathy with even the most barbarous and unenlightened; none had a more ardent desire to benefit and improve the most abject. In his aims, no man attempted, on a grander or more thorough scale, to benefit and improve those of his race who most needed improvement and light. In the execution of what he undertook, I never met his equal for energy and sagacity, and I feel sure that future ages will place him among the very first of those missionaries, who, following the apostles, have continued to carry the light of the gospel to the darkest regions of the world, throughout the last 1800 years. As regards the value of the work he accomplished, it might be premature to speak,–not that I think it possible I can over-estimate it, but because I feel sure that every year will add fresh evidence to show how well-considered were the plans he took in hand, and how vast have been the results of the movements he set in motion.”
The generous and hearty appreciation of Livingstone by the medical profession was well expressed in the words of the _Lancet_: “Few men have disappeared from our ranks more universally deplored, as few have served in them with a higher purpose, or shed upon them the lustre of a purer devotion.”
Lord Polwarth, in acknowledging a letter from Dr. Livingstone’s daughter, thanking him for some words on her father, wrote thus: “I have long cherished the memory of his example, and feel that the truest beauty was his essentially Christian spirit. Many admire in him the great explorer and the noble-hearted philanthropist; but I like to think of him, not only thus, but as a man who was a servant of God, loved his Word intensely, and while he spoke to men of God, spoke more to God of men,
“His memory will never perish, though the first freshness, and the impulse it gives just now, may fade; but his prayers will be had in everlasting remembrance, and unspeakable blessings will yet flow to that vast continent he opened up at the expense of his life. God called and qualified him for a noble work, which, by grace, he nobly fulfilled, and we can love the honored servant, and adore the gracious Master.”
Lastly, we give the beautiful wreath of Florence Nightingale, also in the form of a letter to Dr. Livingstone’s daughter:
“LONDON, _Feb._ 18_th_,1874.
“DEAR MISS LIVINGSTONE,–I am only one of all England which is feeling with you and for you at this moment.
“But Sir Bartle Frere encourages me to write to you.
“We cannot help still yearning to hear of some hope that your great father may be still alive.
“God knows; and in knowing that He knows who is all wisdom, goodness, and power, we must find our rest.
“He has taken away, if at last it be as we fear, the greatest man of his generation, for Dr. Livingstone stood alone.
“There are few enough, but a few statesmen. There are few enough, but a few great in medicine, or in art, or in poetry. There are a few great travelers. But Dr. Livingstone stood alone as the great Missionary Traveler, the bringer-in of civilization; or rather the pioneer of civilization–he that cometh before–to races lying in darkness.
“I always think of him as what John the Baptist, had he been living in the nineteenth century, would have been.
“Dr. Livingstone’s fame was so world-wide that there were other nations who understood him even better than we did.
“Learned philologists from Germany, not at all orthodox in their opinions, have yet told me that Dr. Livingstone was the only man who understood races, and how to deal with them for good; that he was the one true missionary. We cannot console ourselves for our loss. He is irreplaceable.
“It is not sad that he should have died out there. Perhaps it was the thing, much as he yearned for home, that was the fitting end for him. He may have felt it so himself.
“But would that he could have completed that which he offered his life to God to do!
“If God took him, however, it was that his life was completed in God’s sight; his work finished, the most glorious work of our generation.
“He has opened those countries for God to enter in. He struck the first blow to abolish a hideous slave-trade.
“He, like Stephen, was the first martyr.
“‘He climbed the steep ascent of heaven, Through peril, toil, and pain;
O God! to us may grace be given
To follow in his train!’
“To us it is very dreary, not to have seen him again, that he should have had none of us by him at the last; no last word or message.
“I feel this with regard to my dear father and one who was more than mother to me, Mrs. Bracebridge, who went with me to the Crimean war, both of whom were taken from me last month.
“How much more must we feel it, with regard to out great discoverer and hero, dying so far off!
“But does he regret it? How much he must know now! how much he must have enjoyed!
“Though how much we would give to know _his_ thoughts, _alone with God_, during the latter days of his life.
“May we not say, with old Baxter (something altered from that verse)?
“‘My knowledge of that life is small, The eye of faith is dim;
But ’tis enough that _Christ knows all_, And he will be with _Him_.’
“Let us think only of him and of his present happiness, his eternal happiness, and may God say to us: ‘Let not your heart be troubled,’ Let us exchange a ‘God bless you,’ and fetch a real blessing from God in saying so.
“Florence Nightingale”
CHAPTER XXIII.
POSTHUMOUS INFLUENCE.
History of his life not completed at his death–Thrilling effect of the tragedy of Ilala–Livingstone’s influence on the slave-trade–His letters from Manyuema–Sir Bartle Frere’s mission to Zanzibar–Successful efforts of Dr. Kirk with Sultan of Zanzibar–The land route–The sea route–Slave-trade declared illegal–Egypt–The Soudan–Colonel Gordon–Conventions with Turkey–King Mtesa of Uganda–Nyassa district–Introduction of lawful commerce–Various commercial enterprises in progress–Influence of Livingstone on exploration–Enterprise of newspapers–Exploring undertakings of various nations–Livingstone’s personal service to science–His hard work in science the cause of respect–His influence on missionary enterprise–Livingstonia–Dr. Stewart.–Mr. E.D. Young–Blantyre–The Universities Mission under Bishop Steere–Its return to the mainland and to Nyassa district–Church Missionary Society at Nyanza–London Missionary Society at Tanganyika–French, Inland, Baptist, and American missions–Medical missions–The Fisk Livingstone hall–Livingstone’s great legacy to Africa, a spotless Christian name and character–Honors of the future.
The heart of David Livingstone was laid under the mvula-tree in Ilala, and his bones in Westminster Abbey; but his spirit marched on. The history of his life is not completed with the record of his death. The continual cry of his heart to be permitted to finish his work was answered, answered thoroughly, though not in the way he thought of. The thrill that went through the civilized world when his death and all its touching circumstances became known, did more for Africa than he could have done had he completed his task and spent years in this country following it up. From the worn-out figure kneeling at the bedside in the hut in Ilala an electric spark seemed to fly, quickening hearts on every side. The statesman felt it; it put new vigor into the despatches he wrote and the measures he devised with regard to the slave-trade. The merchant felt it, and began to plan in earnest how to traverse the continent with roads and railways, and open it to commerce from shore to centre. The explorer felt it, and started with high purpose on new scenes of unknown danger. The missionary felt it,–felt it a reproof of past languor and unbelief, and found himself lifted up to a higher level of faith and devotion. No parliament of philanthropy was held; but the verdict was as unanimous and as hearty as if the Christian world had met and passed the resolution–“Livingstone’s work shall not die: AFRICA SHALL LIVE.”
A rapid glance at the progress of events during the seven years that have elapsed since the death of Livingstone will show best what influence he wielded after his death. Whether we consider the steps that have been taken to suppress the slave-trade, the progress of commercial undertakings, the successful journeys of explorers stimulated by his example who have gone from shore to shore, or the new enterprises of the various missionary bodies, carried out by agents with somewhat of Livingstone’s spirit, we shall see what a wonderful revolution he effected,–how entirely he changed the prospects of Africa.
Livingstone himself had the impression that his long and weary detention in Manyuema was designed by Providence to enable him to know and proclaim to the world the awful horrors of the slave-trade. When his despatches and letters from that region were published in this country, the matter was taken up in the highest quarters. After the Queen’s Speech had drawn the attention of Parliament to it, a Royal Commission, and then a Select Committee of the House of Commons, prepared the way for further action. Sir Bartle Frere was to Zanzibar, with the view of negotiating a treaty with the Sultan, to render illegal all traffic in slaves by sea. Sir Bartle was unable to persuade the Sultan, but left the matter in the hands of Dr. Kirk, who succeeded in 1873 in negotiating the treaty, and got the shipment of slaves prohibited over a sea-board of nearly a thousand miles. But the slave-dealer was too clever to yield; for the route by sea he simply substituted a route by land, which, instead of diminishing the horrors of the traffic, actually made them greater. Dr. Kirk’s energies had to be employed in getting the land traffic placed in the same category as that by sea, and here, too, he was successful, so that within the dominions of the Sultan of Zanzibar, the slave-trade, as a legal enterprise, came to an end.
But Zanzibar was but a fragment of Africa. In no other part of the continent was it of more importance that the traffic should be arrested than in Egypt, and in parts of the Empire of Turkey in Africa under the control of the Sultan. The late Khedive of Egypt was hearty in the cause, less, perhaps, from dislike of the slave-trade, than from his desire to hold good rank among the Western powers, and to enjoy the favorable opinion of England. By far the most important contribution of the Khedive to the cause lay in his committing the vast region of the Soudan to the hands of our countryman, Colonel Gordon, whose recent resignation of the office has awakened so general regret. Hating the slave-trade, Colonel Gordon employed his remarkable influence over native chiefs and tribes in discouraging it, and with great effect. To use his own words, recently spoken to a friend, he cut off the slave-dealers in their strongholds, and he made all his people love him. Few men, indeed, have shown more of Livingstone’s spirit in managing the natives than Gordon Pasha, or furnished better proof that for really doing away with the slave-trade more is needed than a good treaty–there must be a hearty and influential Executive to carry out its provisions. Our conventions with Turkey have come to little or nothing. They have shared the usual fate of Turkish promises. Even the convention announced with considerable confidence in the Queen’s speech on 5th February, 1880, if the tenor of it be as it has been reported in the _Temps_ newspaper, leaves far too much in the hands of the Turks, and unless it be energetically and constantly enforced by this country, will fail in its object. To this end, however, we trust that the attention of our Government will be earnestly directed. The Turkish traffic is particularly hateful, for it is carried on mainly for purposes of sensuality and show.
The abolition of the slave-trade by King Mtesa, chief of Waganda, near Lake Victoria Nyanza, is one of the most recent fruits of the agitation. The services of Mr. Mackay, a countryman of Livingstone’s, and an agent of the Church Missionary Society, contributed mainly to this remarkable result.
Such facts show that not only has the slave-trade become illegal in some of the separate states of Africa, but that an active spirit has been roused against it, which, if duly directed, may yet achieve much more. The trade, however, breeds a reckless spirit, which cares little for treaties or enactments, and is ready to continue the traffic as a smuggling business after it has been declared illegal. In the Nyassa district, from which to a large extent it has disappeared, it is by no means suppressed. It is quite conceivable that it may revive after the temporary alarm of the dealers has subsided. The remissness, and even the connivance, of the Portuguese authorities has been a great hindrance to its abolition. All who desire to carry out the noble object of Livingstone’s life will therefore do well to urge her Majesty’s Ministers, members of Parliament, and all who have influence, to renewed and unremitting efforts toward the complete and final abolition of the traffic throughout the whole of Africa. To this consummation the honor of Great Britain is conspicuously pledged, and it is one to which statesmen of all parties have usually been proud to contribute.
If we pass from the slave-trade to the promotion of lawful commerce, we find the influence of Livingstone hardly less apparent in not a few undertakings recently begun. Animated by the memory of his four months’ fellowship with Livingstone, Mr. Stanley has undertaken the exploration of the Congo or Livingstone River, because it was a work that Livingstone desired to be done. With a body of Kroomen and others he is now at work making a road from near Banza Noki to Stanley Pool. He takes a steamer in sections to be put together above the Falls, and with it he intends to explore and to open to commerce the numerous great navigable tributaries of the Livingstone River. Mr. Stanley has already established steam communication between the French station near the mouth of the Congo and his own station near Banza Noki or Embomma. The “Livingstone Central African Company, Limited,” with Mr. James Stevenson, of Glasgow, as chairman, has constructed a road along the Murchison Rapids, thus making the original route of Livingstone available between Quilimane and the Nyassa district, and is doing much more to advance Christian civilization. France, Belgium, Germany, and Italy have all been active in promoting commercial schemes. A magnificent proposal has been made, under French auspices, for a railway across the Soudan. There is a proposal from Manchester to connect the great lakes with the sea by a railway from the coast opposite Zanzibar. Another scheme is for a railway from the Zambesi to Lake Nyassa. A telegraph through Egypt has been projected to the South African colonies of Britain, passing by Nyassa and Shire. An Italian colony on a large scale has been projected in the dominions of Menelek, king of Shoa, near the Somali land. Any statement of the various commercial schemes begun or contemplated would probably be defective, because new enterprises are so often appearing. But all this shows what a new light has burst on the commercial world as to the capabilities of Africa in a trading point of view. There seems, indeed, no reason why Africa should not furnish most of the products which at present we derive from India. As a market for our manufactures, it is capable, even with a moderate amount of civilization, of becoming one of our most extensive customers. The voice that proclaimed these things in 1857 was the voice of one crying in the wilderness; but it is now repeated in a thousand echoes.
In stimulating African exploration the influence of Livingstone was very decided. He was the first of the galaxy of modern African travelers, for both in the Geographical Society and in the world at large his name became famous before those of Baker, Grant, Speke, Burton, Stanley, and Cameron. Stanley, inspired first by the desire of finding him, became himself a remarkable and successful traveler. The same remark is applicable to Cameron. Not only did Livingstone stimulate professed geographers, but, what was truly a novelty in the annals of exploration, he set newspaper companies to open up Africa. The _New York Herald_, having found Livingstone, became hungry for new discoveries, and enlisting a brother-in-arms, Mr. Edwin Arnold and the _Daily Telegraph_, the two papers united to send Mr. Stanley “to fresh woods and pastures new.” Under the auspices of the African Exploration Society, and the directions of the Royal Geographical, Mr. Keith Johnston and Mr. Joseph Thomson undertook the exploration of the country between Dar es Salaam and Lake Nyassa, the former falling a victim to illness, the latter penetrating through unexplored regions to Nyassa, and subsequently extending his journey to Tanganyika. We can but name the international enterprise resulting from Brussels Conference; the French researches of Lieutenant de Semelle and of de Brazza; the various German Expeditions of Dr. Lenz, Dr. Pogge, Dr. Fischer, and Herr Denhardts; and the Portuguese exploration on the west, from Benguela to the head-waters of the Zambesi. Africa does not want for explorers, and generally they are men bent on advancing legitimate commerce and the improvement of the people. It would be a comfort if we could think of all as having this for their object; but tares, we fear, will always be mingled with the good seed; and if there have been travelers who have led immoral lives and sought their own amusement only, and traders who by trafficking in rum and such things have demoralized the natives, they have only shown that in some natures selfishness is too deeply imbedded to be affected by the noblest examples.
Livingstone himself traveled twenty-nine thousand miles in Africa, and added to the known part of the globe about a million square miles. He discovered Lakes ‘Ngami, Shirwa, Nyassa, Moero, and Bangweolo; the upper Zambesi, and many other rivers; made known the wonderful Victoria Falls; also the high ridges flanking the depressed basin of the central plateau; he was the first European to traverse the whole length of Lake Tanganyika, and to give it its true orientation; he traversed in much pain and sorrow the vast watershed near Lake Bangweolo, and, through no fault of his own, just missed the information that would have set at rest all his surmises about the sources of the Nile. His discoveries were never mere happy guesses or vague descriptions from the accounts of natives; each spot was determined with the utmost precision, though at the time his head might be giddy from fever or his body tormented with pain. He strove after an accurate notion of the form and structure of the continent; Investigated its geology, hydrography, botany, and zooelogy; and grappled with the two great enemies of man and beast that prey on it–fever and tsetse. Yet all these were matters apart from the great business of his life. In science he was neither amateur nor dilettante, but a careful, patient, laborious worker. And hence his high position, and the respect he inspired in the scientific world. Small men might peck and nibble at him, but the true kings of science,–the Owens, Murchisons, Herschels, Sedgwicks, and Fergussons–honored him the more the longer they knew him. We miss an important fact in his life if we do not take note of the impression which he made on such men.
Last, but not least, we note the marvelous expansion of missionary enterprise in Africa since Livingstone’s death. Though he used no sensational methods of appeal, he had a wonderful power to draw men to the mission field. In his own quiet way, he not only enlisted recruits, but inspired them with the enthusiasm of their calling. Not even Charles Simeon, during his long residence at Cambridge, sent more men to India than Livingstone drew to Africa in his brief visit to the Universities. It seemed as if he suddenly awakened the minds of young men to a new view of the grand purposes of life. Mr. Monk wrote to him truly, “That Cambridge visit of yours. lighted a candle which will NEVER, NEVER go out.”
At the time of his death there was no missionary at work in the great region of Shire and Nyassa on which his heart was so much set. The first to take possession were his countrymen of Scotland. The Livingstonia mission and settlement of the Free Church, planned by Dr. Stewart, of Lovedale, who had gone out to reconnoitre in 1863, and begun in 1875, has now three stations on the lake, and has won the highest commendation of such travelers as the late Consul Elton[80]. Much of the success of this enterprise is due to Livingstone’s old comrade, Mr. E.D. Young, R.N., who led the party, and by his great experience and wonderful way of managing the natives, laid not only the founders of Livingstonia, but the friends of Africa, under obligations that have never been sufficiently acknowledged[81]. In concert with the “Livingstone Central African Company,” considerable progress has been made in exploring the neighboring regions, and the recent exploit of Mr. James Stewart, C.E., one of the lay helpers of the Mission, in traversing the country between Nyassa and Tanganyika, is an important contribution to geography[82]. It would have gratified Livingstone to think that in conducting this settlement several of the Scotch Churches were practically at one–Free, Reformed, and United Presbyterian; while at Blantyre, on the Shire, the Established Church of Scotland, with a mission and a colony of mechanics, has taken its share in the work.
[Footnote 80: _Lakes and Mountains of Africa_, pp. 277, 280.]
[Footnote 81: See his work. _Nyassa_: London, 1877.]
[Footnote 82: See _Transactions of Royal Geographical Society_, 1880.]
Under Bishop Steere, the successor of Bishop Tozer, the Universities Mission has re-occupied part of the mainland, and the freed-slave village of Masasi, situated between the sea and Nyassa, to the north of the Rovuma, enjoys a measure of prosperity which has never been interrupted during the three or four years of its existence. Other stations have been formed, or are projected, one of them on the eastern margin of the lake. The Church Missionary Society has occupied the shores of Victoria Nyanza, achieving great results amid many trials and sacrifices, at first wonderfully aided and encouraged by King Mtesa, though, as we write, we hear accounts of a change of policy which is grievously disappointing. Lake Tanganyika has been occupied by the London Missionary Society.
The “Societe des Missions Evangeliques,” of Paris, has made preparations for occupying the Barotse Valley, near the head-waters of the Zambesi. The Livingstone Inland Mission has some missionaries on the Atlantic Coast at the mouth of the Congo, and others who are working inward, while a monthly journal is edited by Mrs. Grattan Guinness, entitled _The Regions Beyond_. The Baptist Missionary Society has a mission in the same district, toward the elucidation of which the Rev. J. T. Comber’s _Explorations Inland from Mount Cameroons and through Congo to Mkouta_ have thrown considerable light.
More recently still, the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions, having resolved to devote to Africa Mr. Otis’s munificent bequest of a million dollars, appointed the Rev. Dr. Means to collect information as to the most suitable openings for missions in Central Africa; and on his recommendation, after considering the claims of seven other localities, have decided to adopt as their field the region of Bihe and the Coanza, an upland tract to the east of Benguela, healthy and suitable for European colonization, and as yet not occupied by any missionary body. Thus the Old World and the New are joining their forces for the evangelization of Africa. And they are not only occupying regions which Livingstone recommended, but are trying to work his principle of combining colonization with missions, so as to give their people an actual picture of Christianity as it is exemplified in the ordinary affairs of life.
Besides missions on the old principle, Medical Missions have received a great impulse through Livingstone. When mission work in Central Africa began to be seriously entertained, men like Dr. Laws, the late Dr. Black, and the late Dr. Smith, all medical missionaries, were among the first to offer their services. The Edinburgh Medical Mission made quite a new start when it gave the name of Livingstone to its buildings. Another institution that has adopted the name for a hall in which to train colored people for African work is the Fisk University, Tennessee, made famous by the Jubilee Singers.
In glancing at these results of Livingstone’s influence in the mission field, we must not forget that of all his legacies to Africa by far the highest was the spotless name and bright Christian character which have become associated every where with its great missionary explorer. From the first day of his sojourn in Africa to the last, “patient continuance in well-doing” was the great charm through which he sought, with God’s blessing, to win the confidence of Africa. Before the poorest African he maintained self-restraint and self-respect as carefully as in the best society at home. No prevailing relaxation of the moral code in those wild, dark regions ever lowered his tone or lessened his regard for the proprieties of Christian or civilized life. Scandal is so rampant among the natives of Africa that even men of high character have sometimes suffered from its lying tongue; but in the case of Livingstone there was such an enamel of purity upon his character that no filth could stick to it, and none was thrown. What Livingstone did in order to keep his word to his poor attendants was a wonder in Africa, as it was the admiration of the world. His way of trusting them, too, was singularly winning. He would go up to a fierce chief, surrounded by his grinning warriors, with the same easy gait and kindly smile with which he would have approached his friends at Kuruman or Hamilton. It was the highest tribute that the slave-traders in the Zambesi district paid to his character when for their own vile ends they told the people that they were the children of Livingstone. It was the charm of his name that enabled Mr. E.D. Young, while engaged in founding the Livingstonia settlement, to obtain six hundred carriers to transport the pieces of the Ilala steamer past the Murchison Cataracts, carrying loads of great weight for forty miles, at six yards of calico each, without a single piece of the vessel being lost or thrown away. The noble conduct of the band that for eight months carried his remains toward the coast was a crowning proof of the love he inspired.
Nearly every day some new token comes to light of the affection and honor with which he was regarded all over Central Africa. On 12th April, 1880, the Rev. Chauncy Maples, of the Universities Mission, in a paper read to the Geographical Society, describing a journey to the Rovuma and the Makonde country, told of a man he found there, with the relic of an old coat over his right shoulder, evidently of English manufacture. It turned out, from the man’s statement, that ten years ago a white man, the donor of the coat, had traveled with him to Mataka’s, whom to have once seen and talked with was to remember for life; a white man who treated black men as his brothers, and whose memory would be cherished all along the Rovuma Valley after they were all dead and gone; a short man with a bushy moustache, and a keen piercing eye, whose words were always gentle, and whose manners were always kind; whom, as a leader, it was a privilege to follow, and who knew the way to the hearts of all men.
That early and life-long prayer of Livingstone’s–that he might resemble Christ–was fulfilled in no ordinary degree. It will be an immense benefit to all future missionaries in Africa that, in explaining to the people what practical Christianity means, they will have but to point to the life and character of the man whose name will stand first among African benefactors in centuries to come. A foreigner has remarked that, “in the nineteenth century, the white has made a man out of the black; in the twentieth century, Europe will make a world out of Africa.” When that world is made, and generation after generation of intelligent Africans look back on its beginnings, as England looks back on the days of King Alfred, Ireland of St. Patrick, Scotland of St. Columba, or the United States of George Washington, the name that will be encircled by them with brightest honor is that of DAVID LIVINGSTONE. Mabotsa, Chonuane, and Kolobeng will be visited with thrilling interest by many a pilgrim, and some grand memorial pile in Ilala will mark the spot where his heart reposes. And when preachers and teachers speak of this man, when fathers tell their children what Africa owes to him, and when the question is asked what made him so great and so good, the answer will be, that he lived by the faith of the Son of God, and that the love of Christ constrained him to live and die for Africa.
APPENDIX.
No. I.
EXTRACTS FROM PAPER ON “MISSIONARY SACRIFICES.”
It is something to be a missionary. The morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy, when they first saw the field which the first missionary was to fill. The great and terrible God, before whom angels veil their faces, had an Only Son, and He was sent to the habitable parts of the earth as a missionary physician. It is something to be a follower, however feeble, in the wake of the Great Teacher and only Model Missionary that ever appeared among men; and now that He is Head over all things, King of kings and Lord of lords, what commission is equal to that which the missionary holds from Him? May we venture to invite young men of education, when laying down the plan of their lives, to take a glance at that of missionary? We will magnify the office.
The missionary is sent forth as a messenger of the Churches, after undergoing the scrutiny and securing the approbation of a host of Christian ministers, who, by their own talent and worth, have risen to the pastorate over the most intelligent and influential churches in the land, and who, moreover, can have no motive to influence their selection but the desire to secure the most efficient instrumentality for the missionary work. So much care and independent investigation are bestowed on the selection as to make it plain that extraneous influences can have but small power. No pastor can imagine that any candidate has been accepted through his recommendations, however warm these may have been; and the missionary may go forth to the heathen, satisfied that in the confidence of the directors he has a testimonial infinitely superior to letters-apostolic from the Archbishop of Canterbury, or from the Vatican at Borne. A missionary, surely, cannot undervalue his commission, as soon as it is put into his hands.
But what means the lugubrious wail that too often bursts from the circle of his friends? The tears shed might be excused if he were going to Norfolk Island at the Government expense. But sometimes the missionary note is pitched on the same key. The white cliffs of Dover become immensely dear to those who never cared for masses of chalk before. Pathetic plaints are penned about laying their bones on a foreign shore, by those who never thought of making aught of their bones at home. (Bone-dust is dear nowhere, we think.) And then there is the never-ending talk and wringing of hands over missionary “sacrifices.” The man is surely going to be hanged, instead of going to serve in Christ’s holy Gospel! Is this such service as He deserves who, though rich, for our sakes became poor? There is so much in the _manner_ of giving; some bestow their favors so gracefully, their value to the recipient is doubled. From others, a gift is as good as a blow in the face. Are we not guilty of treating our Lord somewhat more scurvily than we would treat our indigent fellow-men? We stereotype the word “charity” in our language, as applicable to a contribution to his cause. “So many charities,–we cannot afford them.” Is not the word ungraciously applied to the Lord Jesus, as if He were a poor beggar, and an unworthy one too? His are the cattle on a thousand hills, the silver and the gold; and worthy is the Lamb that was slain. We treat Him ill. Bipeds of the masculine gender assume the piping phraseology of poor old women in presence of Him before whom the Eastern Magi fell down and worshiped,–ay, and opened their treasures, and presented unto Him gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. They will give their “mites” as if what they do give were their “all.” It is utterly unfair to magnify the little we do for Him by calling it a sacrifice, or pretend we are doing all we can by assuming the tones of poor widows. He asks a willing mind, cheerful obedience; and can we not give that to Him who made his Father’s will in our salvation as his meat and his drink, till He bowed his head and gave up the ghost?
Hundreds of young men annually leave our shores as cadets. All their friends rejoice when they think of them bearing the commissions of our Queen. When any dangerous expedition is planned by Government, more volunteers apply than are necessary to man it. On the proposal to send a band of brave men in search of Sir John Franklin, a full complement for the ships could have been procured of officers alone, without any common sailors. And what thousands rushed to California, from different parts of America, on the discovery of the gold! How many husbands left their wives and families! How many Christian men tore themselves away from all home endearments to suffer, and toil, and perish by cold and starvation on the overland route! How many sank from fever and exhaustion on the banks of Sacramento! Yet no word of sacrifices there. And why should we so regard all we give and do for the Well-beloved of our souls? Our talk of sacrifices is ungenerous and heathenish….