motives of my mission--stating that 'the King of England being equally
good as he was powerful, and having conquered all his enemies and made
peace in all Europe, he now sent his ships to all parts of the world to
do good to all people, and to see what they wanted and what they had to
exchange; that for this purpose I was going up the river, and that, on
my return to England, English trading vessels would bring them the
objects necessary to them, and teach them to build houses and make
clothes.' These benevolent intentions were, however, far beyond their
comprehension; and as little could they be made to understand that
curiosity was also one of the motives of our visit, or that a ship could
come such a distance for any other purpose but to trade or fight; and
for two hours they rung the changes on the questions, Are you come to
trade? and Are you come to make war? At last, however, they appeared to
be convinced that I came for neither purpose; and on my assuring them
that though I did not trade myself I should not meddle with the slave
traders of any nation, they expressed their satisfaction.
"The keg of spiced rum which I had brought as part of my present to the
chenoo was now produced, together with an English white earthen washhand
basin covered with dirt, into which some of the liquor was poured and
distributed to the company, the king saying he drank only wine, and
retiring to order dinner. The moment he disappeared, the company began
to scramble for a sup of the rum; and one fellow, dropping his dirty cap
into the basin, as if by accident, contrived to snatch it out again well
soaked, and sucked it with great satisfaction."
Here Captain Tuckey learned that the traders carried off on an average
two thousand slaves every year.
Hence, on August 5th, Captain Tuckey, Lieutenant Hawkey, and the
scientific gentlemen proceeded up the river in the double boat, the
transport's longboat, two gigs, and a punt. In addition to those
already mentioned were some of the sailors and the interpreters.
On August 10th the expedition reached Noki, where the river was rapid
and difficult, running between high bluffs, and Professor Smith
likened it to one of the torrent streams of Norway. On reaching Caran
Yellatu progress was arrested by cataracts, and the party was forced
to quit the boats and push on by land. Here one of the interpreters
deserted, carrying away with him four of the best porters who had been
engaged at Embonna.
"Every man I have conversed with," says Tuckey, "acknowledges that if
the white man did not come for slaves the practice of kidnapping would
no longer exist, and the wars which nine times out of ten result from
the European slave trade would be proportionately less frequent. The
people at large most assuredly desire the cessation of a trade in
which, on the contrary, all the great men, deriving a large portion of
their revenue from the presents it produces, as well as the slave
merchants, are interested in its continuance."
At Juga the river again widened, and this was made a basis for
excursions by land up the river.
On the 10th September Captain Tuckey found it impossible to proceed
further; sickness and death were making terrible ravages among the
party, and it became absolutely necessary to relinquish the enterprise
and endeavour to make their way back to the vessels. On the following
day Captain Tuckey's journal records that they "had a terrible
march--worse to us than the retreat from Moscow."
Of this return journey we have an account from Lieutenant Hawkey's
diary. When Sir John Barrow published an account of the expedition
from the journals of Captain Tuckey and Professor Smith the diary of
Hawkey was not obtainable; it had been lost, and was not recovered for
some years; and then, when given for publication, was again lost, and
only the concluding pages were to be found. It shall be given,
somewhat curtailed.
"September 9th.--Our Ultima Thule. Sketched by the setting sun the
appearance of the river, a thousand ideas rushing into my mind: the
singularity of my situation, its contrast with my captivity, and
equally so with my wishes. Here, probably, my travels are to end; but
Heaven knows for what I am destined, and I resign myself. Passed a
sleepless night, and wandered on the beach, wishing, but in vain, for
sleep. Captain Tuckey ill all night.
"September 10th.--A fine grey morning. Packing up for our return--a
great assemblage of natives, one with a gay red cap. Bought six fowls
for an umbrella. Dr. Smith sketched our last view of the mighty Zaire.
Set out and soon found Dawson very sick; obliged to give his arms and
knapsack to others, and to lead him and give him wine occasionally.
Halted at Vonke, where I got into a scrape by touching Amaza's
fetiche, for which, it being ruined, he wanted a fathom of chintz,
which I gave him. It is forbidden to touch a fetiche or to carry fowls
with their heads downwards. Bought a goat for an umbrella. Bargaining
for a canoe for the sick and luggage; procured one, and embarked poor
Dawson. Tuckey ill; at Masakka had a specimen of African hospitality:
Tuckey, fainting and ill, could not obtain a drop of palm wine until
it was paid for exorbitantly. Peter gave the cap from his head, and
Tuckey his handkerchief and the last beads. To his being faint they
paid not the least regard. About two miles from Sirndia all our guides
abandoned us. However, we found our way, and on our arrival the tent
and luggage, just landed.
"September 11th.--Hazy, cloudy; feel a little ill. Canoes assembling;
bargained for two for six fathoms and four handkerchiefs. A world of
trouble with them--three strokes of the paddle and stop; wanted to
land us above the rapid; obliged to threaten to put them to death. At
last got them to a rapid that stopped us, where we landed and again
grumbled on. One fellow attempted to snatch the piece from Captain
Tuckey's hand. Met here with some of our old friends, and bargained
with the man whose canoe was stove on the 7th to take us to Juga. The
bearers are to have two fathoms each, and himself a dress. Encamped at
Bemba Ganga. Broached our last bottle of wine.
"September 12th.--A grey morning. Bought four fowls for two empty
bottles, and four more for some beads. Embarked in a canoe and set
off. About ten arrived at Ganga and had to wait for a canoe;
atmosphere much changed. Hitherto we had found the blacks honest
enough, but here they gave us specimens of being as great thieves as
they were cowards. The canoe in which the sick men came down was
robbed of some check and baft (coarse cloth). One fellow attempted to
steal a carbine. Ben (the black interpreter) lost his greatcoat, which
the fellow he trusted with it ran away with, and our barometer was
stolen in the night. Dr. Smith was taken ill here. We encamped in the
valley of Demba, where we were assailed by ants in myriads, and got no
sleep. After dusk we were informed that the men whom we had hired at
Bemba as canoe men had run away.
"September 13th.--From 7 a.m. until 6 p.m. no refreshments excepting
earth-nuts, palm-wine, and water. However, we persevered, and at dusk
reached Juga, where we found Butler sick, and had the misery of being
told that poor Tudor and Cranch were no more, Galway despaired of, and
many of the crew sick. Melancholy enough, God knows, but hold on.
Mansa, the slave, has deserted with poor Galway's knapsack.
"September 14th.--Mizzling rain; melancholy morning. The captain and
Dr. Smith sick. Packing up for ship. Hodder sets out with ten men and an
advanced guard. Dr. Smith worse; decide on removing him to-day;
difficulty in getting bearers; prepared hammocks for the sick. At noon
both the captain and Dr. Smith better; Dawson rather worse; get Butler
into a house. Corporal Middleton arrives with the sad news of Galway's
death, that of poor Stirling and Berry, and a long list of sick. Here I
am in the tent. Poor Tuckey ill, asleep, or perhaps feigning it to avoid
conversation. Dr. Smith groaning under a rheumatic fever, and his trusty
David Lockhart attending him. My ideas are wandering round the world,
and the only consolation is that perhaps it may be the means of my
seeing my dear European friends sooner than I had expected. Five only of
the _Congo's_ are capable of duty, except the warrant officers. Saturday
night. God bless you all, my dear, dear friends!
"September 15th.--Broke up at Juga, and such a scene I never before
witnessed, and hope never to witness again. As soon as Tuckey was
gone, the natives rushed in upon us like so many furies, each taking
what he could get hold of; the things we were obliged to abandon. A
part of our guides and bearers ran away with the things they were to
carry, and poor Butler was obliged to come away with only two bearers,
who tottered under him, and who were mocked by their compassionate
countrymen. I left him near the ravine of Bondé, and passed on to
Dawson, who was coming on pretty well, as he had four bearers and was
not very heavy. Not far from Vouchin-semnis we were assailed with
horrid shrieks and cries, and soon saw a dozen women, or rather
furies, holding their idols towards us, rolling their eyes, foaming at
the mouth, and making the most violent contortions. They had lost
some manioc, and were exorcising the thieves. I believe the gangam
(priest) had accused us of the robbery. We continued our march, rather
a forced one, to Noki. Far different was the night, and far different
our feelings, on the 23rd of last month! I was colder than charity,
and it rained very hard for more than two hours.
"September 16th.--Started from Juga. Captain and party on foot, and Dr.
Smith in a hammock. Dr. Smith very weak; obliged to take him out of his
hammock, and William Burton, a marine, carried him on his back, up
almost precipices, to Banza, where we had great difficulty in getting a
little water, which was only obtained by the double influence of a
threat to shoot them and a present of some powder. Arrived at the beach,
where we found all in confusion. No canoes to be had, in consequence of
a taboo from the King of Vinni, who had not received his dues from
Sanquila, who says, on his side, it is in consequence of the commanding
officer of the _Congo_ having threatened to put some one in irons.
Seized the man who appeared to be the chief cause of the opposition, and
at the same time fired at, brought to, and seized five fishing-canoes,
and shortly after obtained two larger from a creek, when we liberated
three of the fishermen's canoes and the head-man.
"September 17th.--Preparing for embarkation. Finding no paddlers come,
pressed two men and set out, crossing over to the south shore to avoid
the whirlpools. When we left men were assembling fast on the hills, and
told us we had killed a man last night. Beached the canoes and ate some
goat's flesh. So returned on board and reached the _Congo_. Found our
vessel in a horrid state of confusion and filth; stuffed with parrots,
monkeys, puppies, pigeons, etc. The carpenter cutting up the last plank
to make coffins. The deck lumbered as when we left her, and not a
wind-sail up! No stock on board; the sick in double boats and tents
pitched on shore. My cabin filthy as a hog-stye. Passed a sleepless
night. Dr. Smith very unwell, and Captain Tuckey very little better.
"September 18th.--A little after daylight, Captain Tuckey, Dr. Smith,
and myself left the _Congo_. Passed M'Bima. The river is very much
risen; eagles hovering over us all the way down. Arrived on board the
_Dorothy_ at 3 p.m. Got Dr. Smith to bed; refreshed ourselves, and
thought the air here quite reviving, and a clean ship the greatest of
luxuries. All on board the _Dorothy_ had been well, except the
carpenter, who was convalescent, and a boy who had been up in the
longboat, and was in the same state.
"September 19th.--Sloop's boat arrived with the sick, and Johnson
dead. Went on shore with Captain Gunther and some of the transport's
people, and buried him--so putrid that I was obliged to bury him in
his cot, with all his bedding.
"September 20th.--Sick improving generally; transport getting ready
for sea. _Congo_ not in sight. Sent skiff to _Congo_. At 6 p.m. Garth
dies. Skiff returns; has left _Congo_ near Augsberg Island. Parrots
prevent all possibility of sleeping to the sick.
"September 21st.--Hazy morning. _Congo_ not in sight at nine. An order
for all parrots to be before the fore-hatchway. Buried Garth. Durnford
and Burton attacked with fever; Lockhart unwell, and Ben. Two of
transport's people ill. Jefferies, fever; Ben wishes to remain at
M'Bima. At 6 p.m. _Congo_ and schooner anchored here. Dr. Smith
appears to be in a stupor.
"September 22nd.--Close morning. Getting stores, etc., from _Congo_;
cleaning her decks; preparing to get her water-tanks filled. Dr. Smith
still in a stupor. Sick generally better, except the captain and
Parker. Weighed with _Dorothy_ and sloop; beat down with sea-breeze.
Dr. Smith, poor fellow, dies, quite worn out; in some measure from his
own imprudent treatment of himself, constantly refusing to follow the
doctor's advice or to take any medicine; cold water was his only
specific. He died without a groan. Mild, affable, and learned, it was
his greatest pleasure to communicate information, and to receive it.
He had conciliated the affections of all his fellow-passengers, and
even of all the crews of both vessels. Anchored at dark, sloop not in
sight. Hoisted a light, to be kept up all night.
"September 23rd.--At night buried the mortal remains of Dr. Smith, as
silently as possible. No sloop in sight; very uneasy on account of the
sick. Hot weather; sprinkled with vinegar; Tuckey much better. Sloop
arrives; reason of not joining before, does not beat well.
"September 24th.--Cloudy morning; small rain. _Dorothy_ sets up her
rigging. Set sail on _Dorothy_, but she could not stem the current,
which is very strong. The corporal, Middleton, is the only man out of
the sick list.
"September 25th.--Cloudy morning; land breeze until noon. Two bottles
of wine were stolen from the sick last night. _Congo_ in sight, and
schooner, the latter coming up the river; anchored here. Removed all
the sick from the sloop to the _Dorothy_.
"September 26th.--Grey morning. Paid our blacks, and as soon as we
weighed turned them adrift in the large canoe. Weighed and worked
round Sharks' Point; felt quite happy when to the westward of it. On
the 5th July we entered the _Congo_, and since then thirteen of our
party have died and one has been drowned. Sick generally better;
seventeen on the list. Tuckey hailed for assistance previous to our
weighing; talks of giving up charge."
On September 30th Lieutenant Hawkey enters the death of Lethbridge and
of Eyre.
On October 1st enters: "Taken very unwell myself--universal debility
and slight headache.
"October 2nd.--Cloudy. Standing to the west all day. Very unwell.
"October 3rd.--Cloudy, with swell. Still very unwell. Swallow caught."
This is the last entry in the diary. On the day following Captain Tuckey
died; and on October 6th Lieutenant Hawkey's own name was added to the
fatal list of those who perished in this most disastrous expedition. In
all eighteen died in the short space of less than three months during
which they remained in the river, or within a few days after leaving it.
Fourteen of these were of the party that had set out on the land journey
above Juga; the other four were attacked on board the _Congo_; two had
died on the passage out, and the sergeant of marines in the hospital at
Bahia, making the total of deaths amount to twenty-one.
This great mortality is the more extraordinary, as it appears from
Captain Tuckey's journal that nothing could have been finer than the
climate: the atmosphere was remarkably dry, and scarcely a shower fell
during the whole journey, and the sun for three or four days did not
shine sufficiently to allow of an observation being taken.
It appears from the report of the assistant surgeon that the greater
number were carried off by a violent intermittent fever; some of them
appeared, however, to have had no other ailment than that caused by
extreme exhaustion caused by the land journey. Some of the crew of the
_Congo_ died of the fever who never went above the cataracts; "but
then," as the surgeon observes, "they were permitted to go on shore at
liberty, where the day was passed in running about the country, and
during the night lying in huts or in the open air."
The _Gentleman's Magazine_ for January, 1817, gives a brief summary of
the achievements of the expedition. "They arrived at the mouth of the
Congo about the 3rd July, and leaving the transport, which only
accompanied them an inconsiderable distance, they proceeded in the
sloop, which was purposely built to draw little water, up the river to
the extent of 120 miles, when her progress, and even that of the
boats, was stopped by rapids. Determined still to prosecute the
undertaking, the men landed, and it was not till they had marched 150
miles over a barren, mountainous country, and after experiencing the
greatest privations from want of water, and being entirely exhausted
by fatigue, that they gave up the attempt. Hope stayed them up till
they reached the vessel, but they were so worn out that twenty-five
out of the fifty-five died twenty-four hours after their return,
comprehending all the scientific part of those who started, and only
eight were left on board in a state fit to navigate the vessel."
That there is some inaccuracy in this account will be seen from what
has preceded it.
The authority for the story of this unfortunate expedition is Sir John
Barrow's edition of the narrative of the expedition, with the diary of
Captain Tuckey, published in 1819; and Miss Charlotte Hawkey's
_Neota_, privately printed in 1871.
DR. DANIEL LOMBARD
Lanteglos with Camelford is one of the richest livings in Cornwall.
Lanteglos itself is nearly two miles from Camelford, and in this
latter place there is neither a church nor a licensed chapel. A few
scattered farms are about Lanteglos; and in Camelford, which is a
market town, there is a population of 1370, left to be ministered to
in holy things by dissenting ministers of many sects.
The rectory of Lanteglos lies in a valley, amidst luxuriant
vegetation, and is altogether a very snug spot indeed.
In February, 1718, the Rev. Daniel Lombard was inducted into this
living on the presentation of the Prince of Wales. He was a Frenchman,
the son of a Huguenot pastor, who had fled from his native land on the
Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Daniel had been placed in Merchant
Taylors' School, and thence had passed to S. John's College, Oxford,
where he had taken his degree of Doctor of Divinity, and he became
chaplain to the Princess of Wales, and in 1714 published a sermon that
he had preached before the Princess Sophia at Hanover. He spent a good
deal of time in Germany, and there made the acquaintance of Mr.
Gregor, of Trewarthenick, with whom in after life he maintained a
lengthy correspondence, still extant.
From all accounts Dr. Lombard was learned on certain lines, but he was
totally unacquainted with the ways of the world, utterly unsuited to
be a parish priest, and lost completely in the isolation of Lanteglos,
far from society in which he could shine; and speaking English badly
with a foreign accent.
After his institution by the Bishop of Exeter to the livings of
Lanteglos juxta Camelford and that of Advent, Dr. Lombard started off
to reach his cure, mounted on one horse, and his servant on another,
driving a third laden with such articles as appeared to him to be
indispensable in a country where he supposed that nothing was
procurable.
He rode in this manner along the highway past Launceston, inquiring
everywhere, "Vere ish Landéglo juxtà Camélvore?" No one had heard of the
place; after some consideration the rustics pointed due west. He must go
on one or two days' journey more. He thus travelled through Camelford,
still inquiring "Mais où donc est Landéglo juxtà Camélvore?"
"I know what he means," said some of those questioned; "the gentleman
is seeking the Land's End."
And so he travelled on and ever on till he reached the Land's End, and
only then discovered that he had passed through his cure without
knowing it.
When at last he reached Lanteglos rectory, the woman who acted as
housekeeper showed him with much pride a hen surrounded by a large brood
of chickens. "Deare me!" exclaimed the Doctor. "'Ow can von liddle moder
afford to give milk from her breast to soche a large familie?"
Seeing sheep with red ruddle on their fleeces, "Pore things!" said he.
"'Ow 'ot dey do seem to be! Dey be red 'ot!"
He collected a tolerable library of books, and occupied himself with
writing one work in French, a Dissertation on the Utility of History,
introductory to strictures on certain histories that had been
published by De Mezeray and the Père Daniel. But he also wrote in
English _A Succinct History of Ancient and Modern Persecutions_,
together with a short essay on _Assassinations and Civil Wars_, 1747.
He died at Camelford, December 14, 1746, and left his library for the
use of his successor.
THE DREAM OF MR. WILLIAMS
John Williams, of Scorrier, was the son of Michael Williams, of
Gwennap, and was born 23rd September, 1753. He was the most extensive
mining adventurer in Cornwall.
On May 11, 1812, Mr. Perceval, Chancellor of the Exchequer, was shot
in the evening, just as he entered the lobby of the House of Commons,
by a man called Bellingham, who had concealed himself behind a door.
On that same night, Mr. Williams, of Scorrier, had three remarkable
dreams, in each of which he saw the whole transaction as distinctly as
if he had been present there in person.
His attested statement, relative to these dreams, was drawn up and
signed by him in the presence of the Rev. Thomas Fisher and Mr. Chas.
Prideaux Brune. This account, the original MS. signed by Mr. Williams,
is preserved at Prideaux Place, Padstow. A very minute account of it
found its way into the _Times_ of the 28th August, 1828; another was
furnished to Dr. Abercrombie derived from Mr. Williams himself, who
detailed his experiences to a medical friend of the doctor, and this
latter published this in his _Inquiries Concerning the Intellectual
Power_. This was republished by Dr. Clement Carlyon in _Early Years
and Late Reflections_, 1836-41, together with another account by Mr.
Hill, a barrister, grandson of Mr. John Williams, and which he had
taken down from his grandfather's lips. All these accounts are
practically identical. According to Dr. Abercrombie: "Mr. Williams
dreamt that he was in the lobby of the House of Commons and saw a
small man enter, dressed in a blue coat and white waistcoat.
Immediately after he saw a man dressed in a brown coat with yellow
basket buttons draw a pistol from under his coat and discharge it at
the former, who instantly fell, the blood issuing from a wound a
little below the left breast." According to Mr. Hill's account, "he
heard the report of the pistol, saw the blood fly out and stain the
waistcoat, and saw the colour of the face change." Dr. Abercrombie's
authority goes on to state: "He saw the murderer seized by some
gentlemen who were present, and observed his countenance, and in
asking who the gentleman was who had been shot, he was told it was the
Chancellor. He then awoke, and mentioned the dream to his wife, who
made light of it." This wife was Catherine, daughter of Martin Harvey,
of Killefreth, in Kenwyn, born in 1757.
We will now take the rest of the narrative from the account in the
_Times_: "Mrs. Williams very naturally told him it was only a dream, and
recommended him to be composed, and go to sleep as soon as he could. He
did so, and shortly after woke her again, and said that he had the
second time had the same dream; whereupon she observed he had been so
much agitated by his former dream that she supposed it had dwelt on his
mind, and begged him to try to compose himself and go to sleep, which he
did. A third time the vision was repeated, on which, notwithstanding her
entreaties that he would be quiet and endeavour to forget it, he arose,
it being then between one and two o'clock, and dressed himself.
"At breakfast the dreams were the sole subject of conversation, and in
the afternoon Mr. Williams went to Falmouth, where he related the
particulars of them to all of his acquaintance that he met. On the
following day, Mr. Tucker, of Trematon Castle, accompanied by his
wife, a daughter of Mr. Williams, went to Scorrier House about dusk.