(Born 1841)
[Illustration: Henry M. Stanley.]
Two white men, one from America and the other from England, met in
the heart of Equatorial Africa, on the shores of Lake Tanganyika,
November 10, 1871. This was their first meeting. The Englishman had
been lost to the outside world for more than two years, and the
American had been looking for him since the early part of 1871.
Finally, after many great difficulties and perils, the American
found the lost explorer, surrounded by his black guards, friends,
and companions. They had dimly heard of each other through the vague
rumors of the natives for months past, and now meeting face to face,
the American lifting his cap, said, "Dr. Livingstone, I presume."
The Englishman nodded an affirmative reply, and the other said, "I
am Henry M. Stanley."
It was in this simple yet dramatic way that two of the most famous
African travellers of modern times met in the heart of the Dark
Continent. Quite as dramatic, perhaps, was the departure of Stanley
in pursuit of Livingstone. Stanley was not widely known previous to
his expedition to Africa in search of Livingstone. He had served as
a war correspondent of one of the great New York newspapers for
several years, and was known to his craft as a faithful, accurate,
and courageous newspaper correspondent. He had dared many dangers,
and had encountered and overcome obstacles that would have dismayed
a less intrepid soul. In 1868 he served the _New York Herald_ as
correspondent during the war in Abyssinia which raged between the
British and King Theodore. It was here he got his first taste of
African adventure. It was not a long war. The British shut up King
Theodore in the fortress of Magdala, where he perished miserably by
his own hand in the flames of his burning citadel. Thence Stanley
went to Spain, where a great civil war had broken out, and he
witnessed the sacking of cities, the prosecution of sieges, and
battles large and small innumerable.
This war over, in the autumn of 1869, the civilized world was
wondering whether Dr. Livingstone, the African missionary and
explorer, were dead or alive. Dr. Livingstone, who was of Scottish
birth and was in the service of the London Missionary Society, had
been long laboring in South Africa, a country of which the outer
world then knew but very little. Along the coast here and there were
points occupied temporarily by white traders and travellers, but the
interior of the Dark Continent was known only through the tales of
the slave-catchers, who brought to the coast the black people they
had gathered like so many cattle in the interior. Dr. Livingstone
was doing what he could to spread the light of the Christian
religion through those benighted regions. His first departure into
the interior of Africa was from Cape Town, in 1840, and for more
than thirty-three years he spent his life in the arduous work to
which he had consecrated himself. In 1858 he had returned to England
and published a book, giving an account of his missionary labors and
his discoveries, and, liberally provided with means, he returned to
Africa to carry on his work. He was accompanied by his wife, who
died in the interior of Africa in 1862. In 1863 he returned to
England and published a second book, giving some further account of
his explorations.
Again, in 1865, he returned to Africa, and for more than a year no
word came from him, but there ran a rumor that he had been killed by
the savages. Early in 1869, however, letters from Dr. Livingstone,
written a year before, were received on the coast, showing that he
was alive and well. He had travelled many thousands of miles, being
the first white man that had ever penetrated those dark and
mysterious regions in the heart of Africa. But now, in the autumn of
1869, more than twenty months had passed since any word of his had
come out of the darkness, and the world was ready to believe that
the faithful missionary and explorer had dared his fate too often,
and had died in the jungles of Africa.
It was at this time that Stanley, resting after a long and arduous
campaign in Spain, received from James Gordon Bennett, who was then
in Paris, a telegram summoning him to an interview in that city.
Arriving at the French capital early in the morning, Stanley went
straight to Mr. Bennett's lodgings, before that gentleman had risen
from his bed. In answer to his knock a voice commanded him to enter.
The two men had not met in many years. Stanley was bronzed and aged
by sun and storm, and Bennett, surprised, abruptly asked, "Who are
you?"
"I am Stanley, and I have come to answer your message," was the
reply.
Bennett motioned Stanley to a seat, and after a moment's pause,
asked:
"Will you go to Africa and find Livingstone?"
Stanley was startled. For a moment he reflected; then he replied, "I
will;" and before he left the room his agreement with Bennett was
practically concluded, and some of the larger details of the
expedition were mapped out, and Stanley left the hotel clothed with
a commission to find Livingstone, and promised all needed funds for
expenses and for the relief of the great African explorer, should he
be in need, as it was expected he would be found, if at all.
Stanley first went to the east coast of Africa, where he arrived in
the early part of 1871. Months were consumed at Zanzibar in making
ready the expedition with which he was to penetrate into the
interior. Several caravans or trains were despatched, one after the
other, loaded with ammunition, arms, provisions, and the necessaries
of life, and with a large supply of goods with which to purchase a
right of way through hostile or unfriendly kingdoms and states.
Bringing up the rear of these various trains, Stanley and his armed
force left the coast of Africa, March 21, 1871. He had with him 192
persons, negroes and Arabs, and as he launched out into the
untravelled places of Africa, two words rang in his ears, "Find
Livingstone." Enduring many hardships, sometimes fighting and
sometimes coaxing the natives, Stanley pressed on his way, his
general course being in a northwesterly direction, signs, rumors,
and perhaps instincts, leading him to believe that Livingstone, if
found alive, would be discovered somewhere in the region of Lake
Tanganyika. It would be impossible to describe the vagueness and
mysteriousness of the rumors which float to and fro in an
untravelled and savage country, but as the intrepid adventurer
pressed on he heard more and more credible reports of the lost white
man. His first convincing intimation of his being near Livingstone
was when a black met him, and, speaking to him in tolerably good
English, told him that a white man was said to be in a village near
by. This man was one of Dr. Livingstone's servants, and soon the
two, one from America and the other from England, met at Ujiji, on
the shores of the lake.
Stanley remained with Livingstone until March 14th of the following
year, busied with explorations of the fascinating region into which
he had penetrated. He supplied Livingstone with all of the goods
that he could spare, and on his return to Zanzibar he sent him a
caravan with men, supplies, and such articles as he needed,
fulfilling the orders of Mr. Bennett. Stanley never again saw
Livingstone in life.
Livingstone died of malarial fever contracted in the African
marshes, and his faithful blacks embalmed his body and carried it to
the coast, hundreds of miles, bringing with them every article
belonging to the faithful missionary, even to the smallest scraps of
paper on which were penned the last notes of his journey which he
ever wrote. Livingstone was buried with grand ceremony in
Westminster Abbey, and Stanley was one of those who bore him to his
grave.
Stanley's early life was a romance. He was born in Wales, near the
little town of Denbigh, and his parents were so poor that when he
was about three years of age he was sent to the poor-house of St.
Asaph to be brought up and educated at the expense of the parish. At
the age of thirteen he was his own master, and though young, he was
ambitious, well informed, and well poised. He taught school while
yet a lad in the village of Mold, Flintshire, North Wales. Tiring
of this uncongenial occupation, he made his way to Liverpool when he
was about fourteen years of age, and shipped as cabin-boy on board a
sailing vessel bound to New Orleans. Like other British-born youths,
America was to him the promised land, and thither he turned his
steps in pursuit of fortune and fame. In New Orleans he fell in with
a kindly merchant, a Mr. Stanley, who adopted him and gave him his
name, for the youngster's real name was John Rowlands. His protector
dying without leaving a will, the boy was once more turned adrift,
but he managed to live and sustain himself, and when twenty-one
years of age, in 1861, the great Civil War having broken out,
Stanley went into the Confederate service then recruiting at New
Orleans. He was subsequently taken prisoner by the Federal forces,
and being allowed his liberty, he volunteered in the United States
Navy. He did his work well, and was in due time promoted to be
acting ensign on the iron-clad Ticonderoga. He made friends wherever
he went, for he was brave, modest, and of a frank disposition. The
war over he was discharged from the naval service, went to Asia
Minor, where he saw many strange countries, wrote letters to the
American newspapers, and in 1866 revisited his native village in
Wales. Returning to the United States, he entered the service of the
_New York Herald_, and went to Abyssinia as war correspondent, as
before stated.
Stanley returned to Europe after his discovery of Livingstone, in
July, 1872, and published his narrative, but many people in Europe
and in America refused to believe his story. Some persons who
thought themselves expert in knowledge of African travel proved to
their entire satisfaction that he never had been far from the coast,
never had seen Livingstone, and that his wonderful tale was a tissue
of romance. The Queen of England showed her belief and confidence in
him by sending him a box of gold set with jewels, and the Royal
Geographical Society of Great Britain, a very high and mighty body,
showed him great honor.
The attention of geographers and scientific men was now turned to
the great Lake Tanganyika, about which very little was known. The
outlet of the lake was as yet undiscovered. The secret sources of
the Nile were unknown, and the great river that reaches the Congo
coast from the interior was then, so far as men knew, lost in the
foam of the cataracts above. Even the already famous lake known as
the Victoria Nyanza was indistinctly sketched on the maps, and
people familiar with African exploration were uncertain whether that
great body of water was a lake or a chain of lakes.
Stanley was asked by the editor of the _London Daily Telegraph_ if
he could settle these great questions if he were commissioned to go
to Africa. He replied, "While I live there will be something done.
If I survive the time required to perform all the work, all shall be
done." James Gordon Bennett was asked by cable if he would join in
the new expedition. His sententious reply flashed under the ocean
was: "Yes. Bennett." And Stanley's second great work was already
determined upon.
Only six weeks were allowed for preparation, and when it was noised
abroad that Stanley was taking another expedition into the heart of
Africa, he was overwhelmed with offers of volunteer assistants, and
with a great variety of strange contrivances to help him on his
journey. Finally, all preparations being concluded, he left England
August 15, 1874, accompanied by only three white men, Frank and
Edward Pocock and Frederick Barker. These men, with the goods and
other needed articles for the expedition, were sent on ahead, and
twenty months after his last previous departure from Zanzibar,
Stanley was once more at that point of departure, ready to begin his
preparations for another plunge into the heart of the Dark
Continent.
Some of the black men who had been with him on his previous journey,
when he searched for Livingstone, were found at Zanzibar, and they
were all eager to go with him again, and when he was ready to depart
he had in his company 224 persons, some of the black men taking
their wives with them. The company after leaving Zanzibar landed at
Bergamoyo, on the mainland, November 13, 1874, and five days later
his column boldly advanced into the heart of the Dark Continent. The
general direction of the expedition was at first nearly westerly,
then turning to the north it was aimed for Victoria Nyanza. The
march was obstructed by marshy regions, overflowing with recent
rains. Moist exhalations and poisonous vapors prevailed, and the
first month was a gloomy one. Stanley's own weight in thirty-eight
days fell from 180 pounds to 130 pounds, and the three young
Englishmen with him were greatly reduced in strength and flesh. One
of these, Edward Pocock, was prostrated, and though he was carried
back to the high, dry table land nearer the coast, he died and was
buried in that lonely region.
By January 21, 1875, 20 of the black men of the expedition had died,
many were sick and disabled, and 89, discouraged by their
misfortunes, deserted. They were now in a hostile region, and were
attacked by natives day after day in succession, but after much hard
fighting they got away and labored onward toward the Victoria
Nyanza, which they reached on January 27th, near its southern shore.
This event was celebrated with great joy and cheerfulness; they felt
that they were out of the wilderness. Six weeks were now consumed in
a voyage around Victoria Nyanza.
During the absence of the exploring party, Frederick Barker, who had
been left in the camp on the lake, died of fever, leaving Pocock and
Stanley the only white men in the party. It was here that Stanley
met King Mtesa, the King of Uganda, a benevolent and mild-mannered
Pagan, who had previously been converted to Mohammedanism, and now
accepted the Christian religion with equal cheerfulness and
good-nature.
On his way westward Stanley passed through the regions of King
Rumanika, an eccentric character, at whose court the white man heard
many strange stories of unknown regions in the heart of the
continent. From this point Stanley went southwardly to explore that
part of Lake Tanganyika which lies south, and this he found to be
three hundred and twenty miles long, averaging a width of
twenty-eight miles. It has no known outlet, and a sounding line of
two hundred and eighty feet found no bottom.
His next march from Tanganyika to the River Lualaba was toilsome and
perilous and beset with dangers almost incredible. At Nyangwe
Stanley touched the most distant point in Central Africa ever
reached before by white man. Here he met with Tippoo Tib, the famous
Arab trader. This man, who has always seemed to be master of the
destinies and fortunes of the wild, roving tribes in the interior,
agreed to accompany Stanley on his exploration of the Lualaba or
Great River. If it had not been for this agreement with Tippoo Tib,
it is most likely that Stanley's expedition would have ended then
and there, and we never should have known, as we now know, that the
Congo and the Lualaba are one river, the second largest in the
world. Its line extends from its month on the west coast of Africa
more than half-way across the continent, and it has its rise in the
great lakes of the interior. To this vast stream Stanley has given
the name of Livingstone.
The object of Stanley's journey now was to throw light on the
western half of the continent, which was then represented on the
maps by a blank, through which meandered a few vague and uncertain
lines representing rivers, guessed at but not known. Stanley got on
better with the natives than did any of those who had gone before
him, for he was wise, patient, and gentle, and yet so firm and
decided that he was held in great awe and respect by the black men
wherever he was known. Leaving the river and deflecting to the
westward, he struggled on through a forest matted and interlaced
with vines, swarming with creeping things, damp and reeking with
vapors, and dripping with moisture. It was a most intolerable and
horrid stage of the journey. When again he struck the great river he
resolved to go by land no further. Here he was abandoned by Tippoo
Tib, who refused to go on. Stanley resolutely set himself to work
building and buying canoes, and led by his own English-built boat,
the Lady Alice, his expedition started finally down the river, which
here flows due north. The fleet was twenty-three in number, and was
loaded with stores, goods, and supplies.
[Illustration: Stanley shooting the Rapids of the Congo.]
It was a wonderful voyage. The explorers were harassed at times by
savage tribes, some of them believed to be cannibals, who attacked
the strangers from shore, or in pure wantonness, as they drifted
down the stream. Sickness and hunger were often their lot, and they
were overtaken by tropical storms. In some places, too, they
encountered rapids and cataracts, around which their fleet had to be
dragged through paths cut in the primeval forest while the savages
hovered around them. The forests were populous with wild beasts;
chimpanzees and gorillas, monkeys, and all manner of four-footed
things infested the clambering vines that festooned the trees. They
were once attacked by an hippopotamus, and elephants and
rhinoceroses were never far away. At a point below where the great
river turns from its great northerly course and flows westward, just
above the equator, was discovered a series of cataracts, seven in
all, the first of which was named Livingstone Falls and the seventh
Stanley Falls. The natives from this point downward to the mouth of
the Congo had lost something of their natural ferocity, as they had
been tamed by trade from the west coast, and great was the rejoicing
of Stanley's Zanzibar men when they encountered native warriors with
firearms in their hands, for this showed that they had reached a
people supplied by traders from the Congo coast.
The passing of the last group of cataracts was attended by numerous
dangers. In spite of all their efforts, canoes were sometimes
carried over the falls and wrecked, and on June 3d, Frank Pocock,
the last of Stanley's white companions, was drowned in the Congo by
the upsetting of a boat. Pocock was a brave, faithful, and devoted
follower of Stanley, who has paid a touching tribute to the
manliness, affection, and courage of the young Englishman who lies
buried in the savage wilderness of the Congo.
Very soon, as they drew nearer to the west coast, in the latter part
of the summer of 1877, sickness, distress, and famine pressed hard
upon the way-worn travellers. They were destitute of nearly
everything that could sustain nature. The natives refused to sell
supplies, and starvation stared them in the face. Knowing that a
trading-post was established at Embomma, a two days' journey down
the river, Stanley wrote on an old piece of cotton cloth a letter
asking for help, which was sent to the trading-post by his swiftest
runners. This letter was written in Spanish, French, and also in
English, Stanley in his anxiety and despair leaving no means untried
to reach the unknown traders whom he heard were at Embomma. The men
into whose hands this three-fold message fell were English and
Portuguese. Their response was prompt and generous. The messengers
were sent back, followed by a small caravan laden with ample
supplies of food and the necessaries of life, greatly to the relief
of the starving people who, on the arrival of this timely aid, had
eaten nothing for thirty hours. On August 9, 1877, the nine hundred
and ninety-ninth day from the date of their departure from Zanzibar,
Stanley's company, now numbering one hundred and fourteen blacks and
one white man, met the generous traders and merchants of Embomma,
who received the way-worn voyagers that had crossed the Dark
Continent. From the mouth of the Congo the expedition was carried by
steamer to Kabinda, a seaport a short distance up the coast, whence
they were taken to the port of San Paolo de Loanda, where they
embarked on board a British man-of-war and were taken to Cape Town;
thence, touching at Port Natal, they steamed to Zanzibar, where they
arrived on November 20, 1877. Long since given up for dead, the
Zanzibar men were greeted by their kindred with signs of
thanksgiving, tears and cries of joy. They had crossed the heart of
the continent, doubled the great Cape, and were again at home.
Stanley returned to England from Zanzibar, arriving in December,
1877. The King of the Belgians had been planning an expedition to
open up the Congo country to trade, and now requested Stanley to
take command of his expedition. Stanley undertook the management of
the new organization and returned to Africa in 1879, where he
remained nearly six years, hard at work on the Congo, making roads,
establishing stations, and opening the way for commerce. The Congo
Free State, founded by King Leopold, lies chiefly south of the great
bend of the river, and contains an area of 1,508,000 square miles,
with a population of more than 42,000,000. The articles collected
from the African trade at points along the great river, are ivory,
palm-oil, gum, copal, rubber, bees-wax, cabinet woods, hippopotamus
teeth and hides, monkey skins, and divers other things. Stanley now
made brief visits to Europe and the United States. While he was in
this country, in the winter of 1886 and 1887, he was summoned back
to Europe to take once more command of an African expedition to
rescue Emin Pasha, governor of the province of Equatorial Africa.
Emin is the Egyptian name of Dr. Schnitzler. He has been generally
known throughout Africa as Emin Pasha, and was governor of the
province which is one of the outlying posts of the Egyptian
government, when the revolt in the Soudan took place. When General
Gordon was besieged in Khartoum, the province of Emin Pasha was cut
off from the rest of Egypt, and Emin was shut up in the region north
of the Albert Nyanza, whose capital is Lado, on one of the minor
branches of the White Nile.
To relieve him in his isolation and necessity, a subscription was
started in England, and once more, equipped with men, arms,
ammunition, and other supplies, Stanley sailed for Africa in
January, 1887, making his head-quarters as before at Zanzibar. The
supplies for the expedition were shipped directly to the Congo and
carried up stream by steamers. At Zanzibar, Stanley's old friend
Tippoo Tib was met, and he signed an agreement making him Governor
of Stanley Falls to defend that post against all comers, a salary
being guaranteed him. Then, accompanied by Tippoo Tib, Stanley went
to the mouth of the Congo by the way of the Cape of Good Hope,
reaching the river March 18, 1887; then, ascending the stream on
which he had met so many hardships and endured so much suffering, he
carried his force of nearly one thousand men, and his supplies,
arms, and ammunition, to the relief of Emin Pasha, an enormous
quantity altogether. The white companions of Stanley on this
expedition were Major Barttelot, who had served with distinction
under General Wolseley in Egypt, Major Sir Andrew Clarke, Lieutenant
Stairs, Captain Nelson, Dr. Park, Rose Troup, Mountjoy Jephson,
William Bonny, and Mr. Jameson. Of these, two returned to England
before the termination of the journey, and three perished during the
wanderings of the expedition through forty-five hundred miles of
trackless wilderness, pestilential marshes, and regions populous
with hostile savages. From June, 1887, to December, 1889, the party
was lost to the world and no definite news from it reached
civilization.
The expedition, which had been divided into two parts, generally
pursued its way in a northeastward course. Major Barttelot was left
on the Aruwimi, at Yambuya, with 257 men and the main part of the
stores, to await the coming of the promised reinforcements from
Tippoo Tib. A long delay ensued, and troubles broke out in
consequence (it is said) of the rash and imperious demeanor of Major
Barttelot, and finally Barttelot was murdered and the entire
rear-guard was broken down by desertion and pillage. Jameson
collected the remains of the party, but he soon after died, and Mr.
Bonny succeeded to the command and collected and kept the men
together. Meanwhile, Stanley's march ahead was made with many
difficulties, and he encountered rapid streams and other obstacles
unforeseen and unexpected. Toward the end of December, 1887,
Stanley's expedition having reached the Albert Edward Nyanza, and
still being unable to open communications with Emin Pasha, it was
decided to return to the forest and build a fort, and, after resting
the forces, make a new start toward the lake. This fortification,
known as Fort Bodo, was inhabited until April, 1888, when Stanley
pressed on, and finally found Emin Pasha and his companion, Dr.
Casati. They had passed through the country of the dwarfs, nearly
perishing with hunger, and when they reached the lake, Emin's
soldiers had mutinied and he was a prisoner. Emissaries from the
Mahdist Dervishes had stirred up the camp of Emin and caused
inextricable confusion. Emin was reluctant to leave the province,
and when Stanley and his white companions determined to attempt to
reach Zanzibar by an unexplored route, Emin refused to depart. Four
months were spent in an effort to overcome the reluctance of Emin
Pasha and Captain Casati, who were unwilling to leave their people.
Emin's plea was that ten thousand of his people would have to be
extricated from the province and carried to the coast. After many
and exasperating discussions, Stanley refused to wait longer, and
Emin, who had become nearly blind, brought away with him about five
hundred persons. The expedition then, over a southeasterly route,
made its way toward the coast.
The course of march from Albert Edward Nyanza was nearly in a direct
line to the Uzinja country, on the southwest shore of the Victoria
Nyanza. The party passed south of Victoria Lake and reached the east
coast December 4, 1889. The caravan, since it left Albert Edward
Nyanza, had dwindled from fifteen hundred to one-half that number.
This latest journey of Stanley lasted one thousand and twelve days,
of which hardly twenty were without tragical and perilous incidents.
The story of the annihilation that overcame his rear-guard has been
often told. It will probably never be settled exactly where shall be
placed the blame for that frightful disaster.
On his return from the Emin relief expedition, Stanley revisited the
United States, accompanied by his bride whom he had lately married.
He gave lectures in several of the larger cities of the country on
his surprising adventures in Africa. He was now prematurely aged by
his terrible experiences, and though his eye was still bright and
his frame alert, care and privation had whitened his hair, exposure
had darkened his skin and left its wrinkled impress on his forehead.
Everywhere he was received with the greatest enthusiasm and followed
by eager thousands, who gazed upon his face and hung with rapture on
his words. In 1892 he returned to England, and availing himself of
his British nationality, stood for Parliament in the District of
Lambeth, City of London, as a Conservative candidate. Much to the
surprise and grief of his friends he was defeated and since then he
has remained in private life.
[Signature: Noah Brooks.]