THE RELIEF OF THE REAR-GUARD.
Major Barttelot--The situation at the Yambuya camp--Arrival
of Tippoo Tib’s porters--Banalya--Assassination of Major
Barttelot--Death of Mr. Jameson--Arrival of Stanley at
Banalya--Stanley’s letter to Tippoo Tib--On the march
again--Famine--A starvation camp--At Fort Bodo--Arrival at the
lake--Disastrous tidings.
Major Edmund Barttelot, to whom Stanley had entrusted the command of
his rear-caravan, was a young officer, who, in the expedition to the
Soudan under Lord Wolseley, was in charge of a camel-corps of 1000
Somalis from Aden to Abu-Klea. Throughout the campaign the major
distinguished himself by energy and courage.
But in order to succeed in an unknown land like the Congo, and in an
undertaking so exceptionally difficult as the conduct of the relief
expedition, something more than military ardour was requisite. It
is necessary to have foresight and patience, and beyond all it is
indispensable to have tact and forbearance in dealing with the
natives. And in these latter qualities the major unfortunately seems to
have been deficient.
The sojourn of the rear-column at the Yambuya camp forms the most
lamentable chapter in the history of the expedition.
When he started from Yambuya, Stanley had left with the major four
Europeans, Messrs. Rose Troup, Ward, Jameson, and Bonny, and 257 men,
mixed Soudanese and Zanzibaris. According to instructions Barttelot was
to remain at Yambuya until the arrival of the steamers from Stanley
Pool, which would bring up all the men and the goods that had been
left at Leopoldville and Bolobo. Then, provided that the contingent of
porters promised by Tippoo Tib had also arrived, the whole column was
to set out on their march; or even if the porters were delayed and were
late in coming, the major might, if he thought it advisable, break up
the camp and start without them, following on in the track of Stanley,
who had promised to come back and meet him.
As events turned out, the porters did not arrive; the major, however,
continued to expect their appearance, and waited on at Yambuya for
nearly a year.
It was a year of indescribable misery. The discomforts of the camp, the
dearth of provisions, the maintenance of 257 men almost exclusively
on the produce of a field of manioc, the misunderstanding between the
officer in command and his own men on the one hand, and on the other,
alike with the natives around, and with the Arabs in the remoter
settlements, the distrust and dislike engendered by the major’s
severity and lack of sympathy, all combined to render the situation
very painful. Sickness broke out in the camp, and the mortality was
frightful. Decimated by fever, dysentery, and mental as well as bodily
suffering, the contingent was gradually reduced to 145 men, little more
than half its original number. It must seem little short of a miracle
that not one of the Europeans succumbed to the miseries that they were
called to endure. It was the opinion of full many of those who were
eye-witnesses of this gloomy episode, that Major Barttelot was not at
all equal to the large responsibility that had been imposed upon him.
Moreover, it is obvious that there was far from a good understanding
between him and his European associates, and altogether their
relations, both personal and official, were very strained.
Two Government steamers visited the camp in May, and found its aspect
very miserable, presenting a striking contrast to an Arab encampment
that was settled a little higher up the river. The Europeans were
sick and dispirited, quartered in comfortless huts, while their Arab
neighbours were in every way thriving, lively, and well-ordered; not
living in hovels, but in clay houses provided with verandahs, to which
the natives resorted to barter their goods.
No doubt, it must be conceded, Major Barttelot’s difficulties were
excessively great and trying; but if, without prolonging his stay so
unfortunately, he had advanced upon the track of the van column, and
so had reached the lake or Fort Bodo in time to prevent Stanley losing
seven months in coming back to seek him, who can say whether the
subsequent events on the Nile and all the disastrous consequences that
ensued might not have been averted?
The porters for whom Tippoo Tib had made the contract put in an
appearance on the 4th of June. They had been engaged with difficulty,
the majority being collected from the Manyema district and brought
from Nyangwé to Yambuya by Mr. Jameson, who had been to the Upper
Lualaba to take part in the recruiting.
Some days were occupied in the organisation of the caravan, but it
was ultimately ready to start. It consisted of 25 Soudanese, 125
Zanzibaris, and the 400 porters that had just arrived. Major Barttelot
was the recognised leader, having the assistance of Messrs. Bonny
and Jameson. The services of Mr. Rose Troup were lost, as his health
had failed, and he had been obliged to return to the coast, whither
Mr. Ward had already preceded him, because, in the absence of all
communication from Stanley, it was thought proper to telegraph to
London and describe the condition of the column thus left in the rear.
And now that the day had come on which they should set out, the
question might well be asked what should be the fate of those who,
almost destitute of provisions, were to be conducted through the most
terrible of unknown lands by a young and inexperienced officer who had
failed to secure the confidence either of his own personal associates
or of the negro soldiers under him?
Some bickerings and squabbling had already broken out, and Captain Van
Gèle, who had been at Yambuya only a few days previously, had stated
that if it had not been for the presence and authority of Tippoo Tib,
an outburst of mutiny would have been inevitable. The crisis, however,
was not to be long deferred; the fatal issue was close at hand.
It was at half-past seven on the morning of June 11th that the
expedition effected its start. Some preliminary difficulties having
been overcome, Major Barttelot temporarily handed over the supervision
of the column to Mr. Bonny, so as to allow himself an opportunity of
going to the Falls to take counsel with the Europeans and to see Tippoo
Tib. Resuming the route to the Aruwimi, he re-formed his caravan at an
encampment near the village of Banalya on the 18th of July.
The evening of his arrival the camp was _en fête_. The porters
were shouting, singing, and dancing according to their habit when they
are on the march. Barttelot, disliking the uproar, gave orders for
immediate silence, and for the time his orders were obeyed; but about
4 A.M. the boisterous merriment broke out again, exuberant as
ever. Furious that his directions should be thus set at defiance, the
major rose and left his tent, and notwithstanding the remonstrances
of Mr. Bonny, proceeded to the quarters of the bearers. A woman was
singing and beating a drum in front of one of the huts; he spoke
angrily to her, and threatened her with punishment. In another moment a
shot was fired and the major fell dead.
It was the woman’s husband, a Manyema named Sanga, who had done the
fatal act. He had resented the vengeance that was threatened to his
wife, and raising his gun he killed the white chief upon the spot.
Hearing the report, Mr. Bonny rushed from his tent to find the camp all
in commotion, and the porters flying in every direction and shrieking
aloud: “The white man is dead! the white man is dead!”
At the outset of the caravan Captain Vankerkhoven, the Commissioner of
the Bangala district, as he witnessed its departure, had expressed his
misgivings about it. “I do not believe in its success,” he said; “its
leader has no tact, and no patience with the negroes.” And, indeed, it
might almost seem as though the major had brought his own fate upon
himself, as it is universally known that the negro, when once aroused
to anger, is very revengeful.
[Illustration: FISHING AT STANLEY FALLS.
(_From a Sketch by M. Louis Amelot._)]
But this was only the beginning of the misfortunes that befell the
expedition; it had to bewail the loss of all its leaders in succession
except one.
After doing his best to assist Mr. Bonny in calming the disorder
in the camp that prevailed as the consequence of Major Barttelot’s
assassination, Mr. Jameson had to leave for Stanley Falls for the
purpose of doing what he could to fill up the deficiency in numbers
made by the repeated desertions of the men. It had been his intention,
as soon as he could rejoin Mr. Bonny, to proceed with him along the
route to the Nyanza, but having been informed at the Falls that Mr.
Ward was at Bangala, retracing his way from the coast, he thought
it desirable to go and meet him that they might consult together.
Accordingly he took his passage on board a large native boat.
He had overtaxed his strength. Shortly before reaching the confluence
of the Lomami, he had a violent attack of fever, and on the 16th of
August when he arrived at Bangala, he was already in a dying state.
Surviving only till the following day, he died without having been
able to make the Europeans at the station understand what had been the
object of his coming.
On that very date of Mr. Jameson’s death, Mr. Bonny, the solitary
European now left to supervise the camp, was standing outside his hut,
expecting Jameson’s arrival with recruits, when he caught sight of a
caravan, marching on in excellent order, and headed by a white man.
It did not take long to recognise that here was Stanley redeeming his
word, and come back from the Nyanza to bring up the contingent from the
rear.
“Welcome, Bonny, welcome! but where is the major?”
“Major Barttelot is dead, sir. Shot a month ago by the Manyema.”
“Good God! And where is Mr. Jameson?”
“He has gone to Stanley Falls to try and get more men from Tippoo Tib.”
“And Troup, where is he?”
“Mr. Troup has gone home, sir, invalided.”
“Hem! hem! and where is Ward?”
“Mr. Ward is in Bangala.”
“Heavens alive! then you are the only one here.”
“Yes, sir.”
Very successfully had Stanley accomplished his journey back from Lake
Nyanza to Banalya in eighty-two days, experiencing a loss of only three
of his followers. He had left the lake on the 25th of May, and reached
Fort Bodo in fourteen days. Captain Nelson and Lieutenant Stairs were
there, and everything under their charge was satisfactory; nearly ten
acres of land were under cultivation, and one crop of Indian corn had
been harvested and was in the granaries. Dr. Parke was now left to act
as medical attendant at the garrison, which only reckoned fifty-nine
rifles.
It was by his deliberate choice that Stanley for his return down the
river had left himself without any of his officers; it was his object
not to be encumbered with the baggage which a retinue of European
associates would entail, while he knew that every available porter
would be wanted to carry up the large amount of stores that had been
reserved for Barttelot to convey.
On the 24th of June he reached Kilonga-Longa’s, and on the 4th of July
arrived at Ugarrowwa’s. This latter station he found deserted, as
Ugarrowwa, having got together as much ivory as he could, had started
down the river with a flotilla of fifty-seven canoes, which Stanley
overtook on the 10th of August.
At Banalya, a melancholy surprise awaited him. Out of the 257 that he
had left a year ago there were only seventy-one remaining, and of these
not many more than fifty seemed fit for service. His own sufferings
that he had endured with the advanced caravan had been sad and serious
enough, but they appeared slight in comparison with the privation and
mortality that had prevailed in Major Barttelot’s column. At present
all his own men were in renovated and even robust health, but here
the majority of the survivors from the Yambuya camp were reduced to a
feeble and wretched condition.
After arriving at Banalya, Stanley lost no time in communicating with
Europe. He sent off a messenger with letters to be forwarded from the
Falls, and likewise wrote to Tippoo Tib in the following terms:--
“BOMA OF BANALYA (MURENIA), _August 17th_.
“To the Sheikh Hamed Ben Mahomed, from his good friend Henry
Stanley.
“Many salaams to you. I hope you are in good health as I am, and
that you have remained in good health since I left the Congo. I
have many things to say to you, but I hope I shall see you face
to face before many days. I reached this place this morning with
130 Wangwana, and three soldiers and sixty-six natives belonging
to Emin Pasha. This is now the eighty-second day since we left
Emin Pasha on the Nyanza, and we have only lost three men all
the way. Two of them were drowned and the other ran away. I
found the white men whom I was looking for. Emin Pasha was quite
well, and the other white man, Casati, was quite well also. Emin
has ivory in abundance, cattle by thousands, and sheep, goats,
fowls, and food of all kinds. We found him to be a very good and
kind man. He gave numbers of things to all our white and black
men, and his liberality could not be exceeded. His soldiers
blessed our black men for their kindness in coming so far to
show them the way, and many of them were ready to follow me at
once out of the country. But I asked them to stay quiet a few
months that I might go back and fetch the other men and goods
that I had left at Yambuya, and they prayed to God that He
would give me the strength to finish my work. May their prayer
be heard! And now, my friend, what are you going to do? We have
gone the road twice over. We know where it is bad and where it
is good; where there is plenty of food and where there is none;
where all the camps are, and where we shall sleep and rest. I am
waiting to hear your words. If you go with me it is well. If you
do not go it is well. I leave it to you.
“I will stay here ten days, and then I go on slowly. I move from
here to a big island two hours’ march from here, and above this
place there are plenty of houses and plenty of food for the
men. Whatever you have to say to me, my ears will be open with
a good heart, as it has always been towards you. Therefore, if
you come, come quickly; for on the eleventh morning from this I
shall move on. All my white men are well, but I left them all
behind, except my servant William, who is with me.
(Signed) “STANLEY.”
In reply to this letter Tippoo Tib sent a message explaining that he
must decline the invitation to join Stanley on account of the scarcity
of porters at his command; whereupon Stanley proceeded to reorganise
his company, and made his start to rejoin Emin. The caravan, including
his own men, now amounted to nearly 350 in all. Mr. Bonny accompanied
the expedition, and the entire remaining lot of goods was taken on. It
was now the 1st of September.
This was the beginning of a journey of more than four months’ duration,
in which the route once more lay through the impenetrable forests and
the devastated wildernesses of which the dwarf people were the only
tenants. It was a period which brought sad and terrible hardships.
For two months, until the caravan arrived at the confluence of the
Ihuru, all may be said to have gone fairly well, except for an outbreak
of smallpox which was fatal to many of the native porters. Happily the
Zanzibaris escaped the scourge, an immunity owing no doubt to their
having been vaccinated on board the _Madura_ on their way from
Zanzibar to the Cape.
Beyond the Ihuru, however, the condition of things went from bad to
worse. Across the deserts by the right bank of the Aruwimi the famine
became intense. Weeks of privation followed, and on the 9th of December
Stanley resolved to encamp in a vast forest, and to despatch a foraging
party to make their way to a populous centre, which according to his
map he estimated would be found at no great distance. Day after day
passed by, while the expedition, suffering the agonies of hunger,
watched for the return of the foragers. Stanley has given a description
of the trying time to the following effect:--
“Never in all my African experience had I been nearer absolute
starvation. On the fifth day, after giving out all the flour there
was in camp, and killing the only goat that had been reserved, I was
obliged to open the cases of the officers’ provisions, which hitherto
had been untouched. In the afternoon a boy died, and the condition
of nearly all the rest was most disheartening; some could not stand
upright, falling down as soon as they tried to rise. The spectacle
that I had before my eyes thus constantly so acted on my nerves that I
ended by sympathising with it, not only morally but physically, just as
though weakness were contagious.
“A Madi porter died before night; the last of our Somalis gave signs of
collapse, and the few Soudanese who were with us were scarce able to
move.
“The morning of the sixth day dawned. We made our broth as usual,
abundance of water, a pot of butter, a pot of condensed milk, and
a cupful of flour for 130 people! Matters had come to a critical
condition.
“Mr. Bonny and the chiefs were called together for a consultation, and
surmises of every conceivable kind were put forward as to what could
account for the prolonged absence of the party sent out to forage.
Finally, Mr. Bonny volunteered to stay at the encampment with ten men,
on condition that I would leave him provisions for ten days.
“This did not seem much; it could hardly be difficult to supply
sufficient gruel to keep ten men alive for ten days; but then there
were all the sick and all the enfeebled who would be unable to keep
moving, and must necessarily die of exhaustion and hunger, unless I had
good luck. Nevertheless, I accepted Mr. Bonny’s offer, and a stone of
milk, butter, flour, and biscuit was prepared and handed over for his
use.”
In the afternoon of the seventh day a general inspection was made;
it showed that there were forty-three individuals who were absolutely
incapable of following Stanley, and who must be left to the charge of
Mr. Bonny and his ten men. Sadi, the chief of the Manyema, abandoned
fourteen of his people to their fate; Kibbo-Bora, another chief, left
his brother; a third chief, Fundi, left one of his wives and a little
boy. The remaining twenty-six were his own people. The condition of all
these seemed desperate, and there was hardly a ray of hope for them
unless food could be brought to them within the next twenty-four hours.
“In a cheery tone, though my heart was never heavier, I told the
forty-three hunger-bitten people that I was going back to hunt up
the missing men. Probably I should meet them on the road, but if I
did they would be driven on the run with food to them. We travelled
nine miles that afternoon, having passed several dead people on the
road; and early on the eighth day of their absence from camp, met them
marching in an easy fashion; but when we were met the pace was altered
to a quick step, so that in twenty-six hours after leaving Starvation
Camp, we were back with a cheery abundance around, gruel and porridge
boiling, bananas boiling, plantains roasting, and some meat simmering
in pots for soup.
“Twenty-one persons altogether succumbed in this dreadful camp.”
The Ihuru was crossed on the 18th of December, and on the next day the
caravan having crossed the forest, regardless of paths, fortunately
found itself at the west angle of the Fort Bodo plantations. It was in
some anxiety that Stanley arrived there. What tidings would he get?
Would his officers still be there? Had Emin and Jephson given any signs
of life? Had their arrival been announced?
Fort Bodo was in the same condition in which he had left it seven
months previously. Captain Nelson, Lieutenant Stairs, and Dr. Parke
were all there, and were all well, having with them fifty-one soldiers
out of the fifty-nine who had been left in their charge.
Meanwhile of Emin and Jephson there were no tidings; no rumours
whatever about them had reached the Fort.
What could this prolonged silence portend? What could have transpired
either at the Lake or at Wadelai to detain Jephson, who was a man of
determined energy, and who had given his word to come back?
The situation appeared to admit of no delay, and it was resolved
that the Fort must be abandoned forthwith. On the 23rd of December,
therefore, the united expedition set out on its march, and taking its
eastward course, proceeded to quarters in Mazamboni’s territory, where
it encamped on the 9th of January.
Here the camp was left in the care of Messrs. Stairs, Nelson, and
Parke, Stanley himself, full of gloomy forebodings, having determined
at once to hasten forward to the Lake, taking with him Mr. Bonny and a
small detachment of men. On his arrival the Bakumu this time gave him
a hearty welcome, demonstrating their goodwill by bringing in food in
abundance, by assisting in building the huts for the night-camp, and
generally by rendering whatever help they could.
Still no news was to be learnt from the Nyanza. Where could Emin and
Jephson be?
* * * * *
And here it may be well to pause a moment and survey the task that had
been accomplished by the man of amazing energy, who with sinews as of
steel, had left Yambuya in June 1887, and had now returned for the
third time to the Lake Albert Nyanza in January 1889.
[Illustration: CAMP IN THE FOREST.
(_From a Drawing by Molleur._)]
A wonderful record is the story of his marches; the first journey from
Yambuya to the Lake, 171 days; the second journey from the Lake to Fort
Bodo, 22 days; the third journey from the Fort to the Lake, 20 days;
the fourth journey from the Lake to Banalya, 82 days; and then this
fifth journey from Banalya back to the Lake, 107 days, making a total
of 402 days.
Thus it is seen how for more than thirteen months out of a year and a
half the leader was on the constant move, making his way through virgin
forests that had neither road nor track; forcing his path through
tangled brushwood and over rushing torrents; carrying in his train
many thousands of pounds’-weight of goods, provisions, and ammunition;
harassed over and over again by warlike and suspicious savages;
uncertain as to the means of providing food for his hundreds of
followers; exposed to an unhealthy atmosphere; and personally suffering
the pangs of hunger and privation. Such was the man who in spite of
climate, in spite of hostilities, in spite of famine, in spite of
sickness, never swerved from his line of duty and devotion, but faced
all difficulties, resolved to overcome them till his work was done. Who
shall say that the age of knight-errantry has passed away? Other ages
have had their Xenophon, Godfrey de Bouillon, Marco Polo, Columbus,
Vasco, and Magellan; the nineteenth century can boast of Stanley. The
race of heroes is not yet extinct.
* * * * *
On January 16th, the caravan arrived at the village of Gaviras, at no
great distance from the Lake, where some messengers sent by Kavalli
handed Stanley a packet of letters. Stanley read them eagerly, but with
profound amazement at the disastrous intelligence they contained. The
troops of the Equatorial province had mutinied on the 18th of August;
Emin and Jephson had been made prisoners; the Mahdists, making a fresh
attack in October, had routed the Egyptian force, had taken Rejaf,
Kiri, and Laboré, and were now only awaiting reinforcements to renew
their advance.
It looked as if all were lost.
As Wolseley had arrived at Khartoum too late to save Gordon, it seemed
as though Stanley had reached the Nyanza too late to rescue Emin.