Born 1771.--Died 1806.
This enterprising and distinguished traveller was born on the 10th
of September, 1771, at Fowlshiels, a farm occupied by his father on
the banks of the Yarrow, near Selkirk. In common with the greater
number of the sons of Scottish yeomen, Mungo Park, notwithstanding
that the number of his brothers and sisters amounted to no less
than thirteen, received a respectable education, and at the age of
fifteen was bound apprentice to a surgeon at Selkirk. At the close
of this apprenticeship, in 1789, Park continued his medical studies
at the university of Edinburgh, where, though nothing remarkable is
recorded of him, he seems to have applied with great assiduity to his
professional studies. His summer vacations, during one of which he made
a tour to the Highlands, were devoted to botany.
Having completed his education, Park removed to London in search of
professional employment. Here, through the kindness of Mr. Dickson,
his brother-in-law, he had the good fortune to become known to Sir
Joseph Banks, to whom so many other distinguished travellers have been
indebted; and through whose recommendation he was appointed surgeon
to the Worcester East Indiaman. In this capacity he made a voyage to
Bencoolen, in Sumatra, the only fruits of which was a paper containing
descriptions of eight new fishes from Sumatra, published in the third
volume of the _Linnæan Transactions_.
Shortly after his return from this voyage, Park, learning that the
African Association, of which his friend Sir Joseph Banks was a very
active and zealous member, were desirous of engaging a person to
replace Major Houghton, who, it was feared, had fallen a sacrifice to
the climate, or perished in some contest with the natives, eagerly
offered his services, which after due deliberation were accepted.
The association, he observes, conducted itself with great liberality
towards him. He forthwith prepared himself for the voyage, and on the
22d of May, 1795, sailed from Portsmouth in the brig Endeavour. His
instructions, he says, were very plain and concise. He was directed,
on his arrival in Africa, “to pass on to the river Niger, either by
the way of Bambouk or by such other route as should be found most
convenient; that I should ascertain the course, and, if possible,
the rise and termination of the river. That I should use my utmost
exertions to visit the principal towns or cities in its neighbourhood,
particularly Timbuctoo and Houssa; and that I should afterward be at
liberty to return to Europe, either by the way of the Gambia, or by
such other route as under all the then existing circumstances of my
situation and prospects should appear to me to be most advisable.”
On the 21st of June, after an agreeable voyage of thirty days, he
arrived at Jillifica, a town on the northern bank of the Gambia, in the
kingdom of Barra. From this place after a stay of two days he proceeded
up the Gambia, in the waters of which were found prodigious numbers
of fish of unknown species, together with alligators and hippopotami,
whose teeth furnish excellent ivory. Park, having quitted the Endeavour
at Jonkakonda, proceeded thence by land; and reaching Pisania, a small
British factory in the King of Yam’s dominions, on the 5th of July took
up his residence at the house of Dr. Laidley, until he should be able
to prosecute his journey into the interior.
Our traveller’s first care now was to render himself master of the
Mandingo language, which in this part of Africa is in general use; and
to collect from every source within his power information respecting
the countries he was about to visit. In the language his progress
depended on his own application; but he soon found that little or no
reliance could be placed on the accounts of the interior furnished him
by the natives, who on the most material points were frequently in
direct contradiction with each other. His anxiety to examine and judge
for himself was therefore increased. However, besides that the rainy
season, which had now commenced, rendered travelling impracticable,
another equally insuperable bar to the speedy prosecution of his
journey quickly presented itself. In observing on the 31st of July
an eclipse of the moon, he imprudently exposed himself to the night
dew, and next day he found himself attacked by fever and delirium,
which were the commencement of an illness that with a very trifling
intermission confined him during two months within doors. “The care and
attention of Dr. Laidley contributed greatly,” says Park, “to alleviate
my sufferings; his company and conversation beguiled the tedious
hours during that gloomy season when the rain falls in torrents; when
suffocating heats oppress by day, and when the night is spent by the
terrified traveller in listening to the croaking of frogs (of which the
numbers are beyond imagination), the shrill cry of the jackal, and the
deep howling of the hyena; a dismal concert, interrupted only by the
roar of such tremendous thunder as no person can form a conception of
but those who have heard it.”
Having been disappointed in his expectations of proceeding with a
slave caravan towards Bambarra, Park departed from Pisania on the 2d
of December, 1795. He had been provided with a negro servant, named
Johnson, who had been many years in Great Britain, and understood
both the English and Mandingo languages; and with a negro boy, named
Demba, the property of Dr. Laidley, who, as the highest inducement of
good behaviour, promised him his freedom on his return. Besides these
Park was accompanied by four other persons, who, though independent
of his control, were made to understand that their safe return to the
countries on the Gambia would depend on our traveller’s preservation.
His equipment was by no means magnificent: a horse for himself, two
asses for his servants, provisions for two days, a small assortment of
beads, amber, and tobacco, a few changes of linen and other apparel,
an umbrella, a pocket sextant, a magnetic compass, a thermometer, two
fowling-pieces, two pair of pistols, and some other small articles. His
friends at Pisania accompanied him during the first two days, and then,
dismissing him on his way, took their leave, secretly persuaded they
should never see him more.
He had scarcely lost sight of his European friends, and ridden off
musing and somewhat melancholy into the wood, when a body of black
people presented themselves in a clamorous manner before him, demanding
custom-dues, in default of which they threatened to carry him before
their king. To escape from this honour, which might have proved a
costly one, Park presented them with a little tobacco, upon which they
were of course contented, and he was allowed to proceed. On reaching
Medina, the capital of Woolli, he judged it prudent, or perhaps
absolutely necessary, to present himself at the king’s levee, when
the venerable benevolent old chief not only granted him permission to
traverse his dominions, but assured him he would offer up prayers for
his safety, partly to secure which he furnished him with a trusty guide.
Having safely reached the frontiers of the Woolli dominions, Park
dismissed his guide; and being about to enter a country interspersed
with deserts, in which water is frequently not to be procured, he hired
three negroes, experienced elephant-hunters, who were at once to serve
as guides and water-bearers. While he was preparing to depart, however,
one of these negroes, who had all received a part of their pay in
advance, made his escape; and lest the remaining two should be disposed
to follow his example, he immediately gave orders to fill their
calabashes, or gourds, with water, and struck off into the wilderness,
just as the sun was appearing above the horizon. Through this desert
they proceeded until they reached Tallika, the frontier town of Bondou
towards Woolli, where Park engaged a kind of custom-house officer to
accompany him for a trifling present to Fatteconda, the residence
of the king. In his company our traveller accordingly performed the
journey to that city. On his arrival at Fatteconda he was received by
the black chief with much apparent kindness, though Major Houghton, he
had heard, in his passage through the country, had been both insulted
and plundered by this same man. However, he soon discovered that the
manifestations of a hospitable disposition observable in the king’s
manner was not deceptive. It is true he was so completely captivated
by our traveller’s best blue coat and gilt buttons, that he could not
resist the temptation to beg it; but he endeavoured in some measure to
remunerate him for the loss by a present of five drachms of gold, and
by altogether abstaining from examining his baggage, or exacting any
other present than what was voluntarily bestowed.
The territories of these petty African chiefs, whom we complaisantly
denominate kings, are exceedingly limited in extent. Your road conducts
you to-day through one kingdom, to-morrow through another, and the next
day through a third; which, of all those circumstances that obstruct
the movements of the traveller in Africa, is, perhaps, the most
vexatious and the most difficult to overcome; as the rapacity of the
first chiefs who lie in his way deprives him of the power of satisfying
the equal rapacity of the remainder. This consideration alone would
suffice to convince me that if ever Africa is to be properly explored,
it must be by an armed force sufficiently powerful to carry terror
through the country, and not by a solitary traveller, who, whatever may
be his perseverance or courage, must either fall in the attempt, or
return with notions hastily formed, picked up at random, or borrowed
from the ignorant credulous natives. The perpetual state of captivity
in which Park moved is a strong proof of this. He was never, unless
when far removed from human society by woods or deserts, completely
master of his own actions, or sufficiently respected to render it
possible for him to contemplate the superior classes, even of these
savages, from a proper level. To judge with impartiality, a man must
neither be under the influence of fear nor of contempt, of anger nor of
gratitude. He must feel himself perfectly on a level with those about
him.
To proceed, however, with Park:--“In the afternoon,” says he, “my
fellow-travellers informed me, that as this was the boundary between
Bondou and Kajaaga, and dangerous for travellers, it would be necessary
to continue our journey by night, until we should reach a more
hospitable part of the country. I agreed to the proposal, and hired
two people for guides through the woods, and as soon as the people of
the village were gone to sleep (the moon shining bright) we set out.
The stillness of the air, the howling of the wild beasts, and the deep
solitude of the forest made the scene solemn and impressive. Not a word
was uttered by any of us but in a whisper; all were attentive, and
every one anxious to show his sagacity by pointing out to me the wolves
and hyenas as they glided like shadows from one thicket to another.
Towards morning we arrived at a village called Kimmoo, when our guides
awakened one of their acquaintance, and we stopped to give our asses
some corn, and roast a few ground-nuts for ourselves. At daylight
we resumed our journey, and in the afternoon arrived at Joag in the
kingdom of Kajaaga.”
On arriving at Joag, the frontier town of the kingdom of Kajaaga, our
traveller (who had taken up his residence at the house of the dooty, or
chief man of the town, a rigid but hospitable Mohammedan) was favoured
with an opportunity of observing the genuine character of the negro.
“The same evening,” says he, “Madiboo, the bushreen who had accompanied
me from Pisania, went to pay a visit to his father and mother, who
dwelt at a neighbouring town called Dramanet. He was joined by my other
attendant the blacksmith; and as soon as it was dark, I was invited
to see the sports of the inhabitants, it being their custom on the
arrival of strangers to welcome them by diversions of different kinds.
I found a great crowd surrounding a party who were dancing by the light
of some large fires to the music of four drums, which were beat with
great exactness and uniformity. The dances, however, consisted more in
wanton gestures than in muscular exertion or graceful attitudes. The
ladies vied with each other in displaying the most voluptuous movements
imaginable.”
At Joag, while preparing to advance on his journey, he was suddenly
honoured with a visit from the king’s son, accompanied by a troop
of horse, who, pretending that by entering his father’s dominions
he had forfeited the whole of his property, insisted upon examining
his merchandise, of which he seized upon the moiety. Of the remnant
that remained, particularly a little amber and a few beads, which
he had succeeded in concealing, he was now so fearful of producing
any portion, even for the purchase of food, lest he should once more
awaken the cupidity of the authorities, that both he and his attendants
determined on combating hunger for the day, “and wait some opportunity
of purchasing or begging provisions.” In this extremity, while he
was sitting down chewing straws, a female slave, who observed him
in passing by, was moved with compassion, and presented him with a
quantity of ground-nuts, which was a very seasonable supply. Scarcely
had the old woman left him, before he received information that the
nephew of the King of Kasson, who had been sent by his uncle on an
embassy to the King of Kajaaga, and was now returning to his own
country, was about to pay him a visit. He came accordingly, and upon
Park’s representing to him his situation and distresses, kindly offered
to be his guide and protector as far as Kasson. With him, therefore,
our traveller now continued his route to the banks of the Senegal,
upon crossing which, his royal guide, who, like other guides, required
a present for his services, informed him they were in his uncle’s
dominions, and in complete safety.
Safe or not safe, however, Park soon found that the stranger and the
traveller were nowhere beyond the reach of extortion. Half of the
little property which had escaped the fangs of the Kajaaga people, was
here taken from him. He was then permitted to depart. Among the honest
negroes with whom he had set out from Pisania, on the Gambia, there was
a blacksmith from the interior, who, having amassed some little money
upon the coast, was now returning to spend the remainder of his days
in his native land. Shortly after quitting Teesee, the last place where
our traveller had submitted to legal robbery, he and his companions
came within sight of the blacksmith’s village. The news of his return
had, it seems, preceded him. His brother, accompanied by a singing-man,
came forth to welcome the wanderer home, and brought along with him a
horse, that the blacksmith “might enter his native town in a dignified
manner.” Park and his companions were desired to put a good charge of
powder into their guns. The singing-man led the way; the two brothers
followed; and the cavalcade was quickly joined by a considerable number
of the inhabitants, who, by extravagant gestures and songs of triumph,
testified their joy at the return of their townsman. “When we arrived
at the blacksmith’s place of residence, we dismounted, and fired our
muskets. The meeting between him and his relations was very tender;
for these rude children of nature, freed from restraint, display their
emotions in the strongest and most expressive manner.--Amid these
transports, the blacksmith’s aged mother was led forth, leaning upon a
staff. Every one made way for her; and she stretched out her hand to
bid her son welcome. Being totally blind, she stroked his hands, and
arms, and face with great care, and seemed highly delighted that her
latter days were blessed by his return, and that her ears once more
heard the music of his voice. From this interview, I was convinced,
that whatever difference there is between the Negro and European in the
conformation of the nose, and the colour of their skin, there is none
in the genuine sympathies and characteristic feelings of our common
nature.
“During the tumult of these congratulations, I had seated myself
apart, by the side of one of the huts, being unwilling to interrupt
the flow of filial and parental tenderness; and the attention of the
company was so entirely taken up with the blacksmith, that I believe
none of his friends had observed me. When all the people present had
seated themselves, the blacksmith was desired by his father to give
some account of his adventures; and silence being commanded he began;
and after repeatedly thanking God for the success that had attended
him, related every material occurrence that had happened to him from
his leaving Kasson to his arrival at the Gambia; his employment and
success in those parts; and the dangers he had escaped in returning
to his native country. In the latter part of his narration, he had
frequent occasion to mention me; and after many strong expressions
concerning my kindness to him, he pointed to the place where I sat, and
exclaimed, _Affille ibi siring_ (see him sitting there). In a moment
all eyes were turned upon me. I appeared like a being dropped from the
clouds, every one was surprised that they had not observed me before;
and a few women and children expressed great uneasiness at being so
near a man of such an uncommon appearance. By degrees, however, their
apprehensions subsided, and when the blacksmith assured them I was
perfectly inoffensive, some of them ventured so far as to examine the
texture of my clothes; but many of them were still very suspicious,
and when by accident I happened to move myself, or look at the young
children, their mothers would scamper off with them with the greatest
precipitation. In a few hours, however, they all became reconciled to
me.”
With these honest people Park remained during the whole of that day and
the next, and then, accompanied by the worthy blacksmith, who declared
he would not quit him during his stay in that part of the country, set
forward towards Kooniakary. On his arrival at this city he obtained
an audience of the king, a fine old man, who, for his conduct both in
peace and war, was greatly beloved by his subjects. His behaviour
towards the stranger was not inconsistent with this character. He
informed him with apparent regret, that the direct route to Bambarra
was about to be closed by war, but, after vainly advising his guest to
retrace his footsteps, added, that there yet remained some hopes of
peace, respecting the validity of which he should be able to pronounce
an opinion in the course of four or five days. In the mean while he
invited Park to remain in the neighbourhood.
On the 1st of February, 1796, the king’s messenger returned from the
contiguous kingdom of Kaarta, bringing intelligence that the Bambarra
army had not yet entered the country, and that it was possible the
traveller might be enabled to traverse it before the invasion should
take place. Accordingly, being provided with two guides by the king,
Park took leave of his friend the blacksmith, and set forward on his
dangerous journey. The country, at all times thickly peopled, now
swarmed with fugitives, whom the fear of the Bambarrans had terrified
from their homes. The scenery in many places was romantically wild. “On
coming within sight of the mountains of Foolado, we travelled,” says
Park, “with great difficulty down a stony and abrupt precipice, and
continued our way in the bed of a dried river-course, where the trees
meeting over our heads, made the place dark and cool. In a little time
we reached the bottom of this romantic glen; and about ten o’clock
emerged from between two rocky hills, and found ourselves on the
level and sandy plains of Kaarta. At noon we arrived at a korree, or
watering-place, where, for a few strings of beads, I purchased as much
milk and corn-meal as we could eat; and indeed provisions are here so
cheap, and the shepherds live in such affluence, that they seldom ask
any return for what refreshment a traveller receives from them.”
From this place, having prevailed upon his landlord, a Mohammedan
negro, to accompany him as a guide to Kemmoo, our traveller set forward
on the 11th of February. He observes, “We had no sooner got into a
dark and lonely part of the first wood, than he made a sign for us
to stop; and taking hold of a hollow piece of bamboo that hung as an
amulet round his neck, whistled very loud three times. I confess I was
somewhat startled, thinking it was a signal for some of his companions
to come and attack us; but he assured me it was done merely with a view
to ascertain what success we were likely to meet with on our present
journey. He then dismounted, laid his spear across the road, and having
said a number of short prayers, concluded with three loud whistles;
after which he listened for some time, as if in expectation of an
answer, and receiving none, told us we might proceed without fear, for
there was no danger.”
Adventures now appeared to crowd upon our traveller. The country
through which their road lay being thickly sprinkled with wild
fruit-trees, they amused themselves as they rode slowly along with
picking and eating the fruit. “In this pursuit,” says Park, “I had
wandered a little from my people, and being uncertain whether they were
before or behind me, I hastened to a rising ground to look about me.
As I was proceeding towards this eminence, two negro horsemen, armed
with muskets, came galloping from among the bushes. On seeing them I
made a full stop; the horsemen did the same; and all three of us seemed
equally surprised and confounded at this interview. As I approached
them their fears increased, and one of them, after casting on me a
look of horror, rode off at full speed; the other, in a panic of fear,
put his hand over his eyes, and continued muttering prayers until his
horse, seemingly without his rider’s knowledge, conveyed him slowly
after his companion. About a mile to the westward they fell in with my
attendants, to whom they related a frightful story; it seems their
fears had dressed me in the flowing robes of a tremendous spirit; and
one of them affirmed, that when I made my appearance, a cold blast of
wind came pouring down upon him from the sky, like so much cold water.”
Shortly after this they arrived at the capital of Kaarta, where he
was an object of such extraordinary curiosity to the populace, the
majority of whom had never before seen a white man, that they burst
forcibly into his hut, crowd after crowd. Those who had beheld the
monster giving way to those who had not, until, as he observes, the hut
was filled and emptied thirteen different times. Here he found that
the war with Bambarra had actually commenced; that all communication
between the countries had consequently ceased; and that, if it was his
determination to persevere, it would be necessary to take a circuitous
route through the Moorish kingdom of Ludamar. The people of Kaarta
were Mohammedans; but there is a variety in church discipline even
among these inflexible fanatics; for, instead of the fine sonorous
voice of the muezzin, by which the faithful are elsewhere summoned to
their devotions, the hour of prayer was here announced by the beating
of drums, and blowing through large elephant’s teeth, hollowed out in
such a manner as to resemble buglehorns. The sound of these horns our
traveller thought melodious, and approaching nearer to the human voice
than any other artificial sound. Being very desirous to depart from the
seat of war, Park presented his horse-pistols and holsters to the king;
and on pressing to be dismissed, received in return an escort of eight
horsemen to conduct him to Jarra. Three of the king’s sons, with two
hundred horsemen, kindly undertook to accompany him a little way on his
journey.
On his arrival at Jarra, in the kingdom of Ludamar, he despatched a
messenger to Ali, who was then encamped near Benowm,
soliciting permission to pass unmolested through his territories; and
having waited fourteen days for his reply, a slave at length arrived
from the chief, affirming that he had been instructed to conduct the
traveller in safety as far as Goomba. His negro, Johnson, here refused
to follow him any further, and signified his intention of pushing back
without delay to Gambia; upon which Park, fearful of the success of his
enterprise, intrusted him with a copy of his journal, reserving another
for himself, directing him to deliver the papers to the English on the
coast. A portion of his baggage and apparel he committed to the care
of a slave-merchant at Jarra, who was known to Dr. Laidley. He then
departed with his slave-boy, accompanied by the chief’s messenger. On
the road our traveller was robbed once more by the Moors, who added
insult to violence; and when he was nearly perishing for thirst, beat
away his faithful slave from the wells, without permitting him to draw
water.
However, after much fatigue and extraordinary privations, they arrived
in Ali’s camp at Benowm, where Park was immediately
surrounded by crowds of fanatical Moors, attracted partly by curiosity,
partly from a desire to vent their fierce zeal against a Christian.
“My arrival,” says he, “was no sooner observed than the people, who
drew water at the wells, threw down their buckets; those in the tents
mounted their horses, and men, women, and children came running or
galloping towards me. I soon found myself surrounded by such a crowd,
that I could scarcely move; one pulled my clothes, another took off
my hat; a third stopped me to examine my waistcoat buttons, and a
fourth called out ‘La illah el allah Mahamet rasowl allahi,’ and
signified, in a threatening manner, that I must repeat those words.
We reached at length the king’s tent, where we found a great number
of people, men, women, and children, assembled. Ali was sitting on
a black leathern cushion, clipping a few hairs from his upper lip--a
female attendant holding up a looking-glass before him. He appeared
to be an old man of the Arab cast, with a long white beard, and he
had a sullen and indignant aspect. He surveyed me with attention,
and inquired of the Moors if I could speak Arabic; being answered in
the negative, he appeared much surprised, and continued silent. The
surrounding attendants, and particularly the ladies, were abundantly
more inquisitive; they asked a thousand questions, inspected every
part of my apparel, searched my pockets, and obliged me to unbutton my
waistcoat and display the whiteness of my skin; they even counted my
toes and fingers, as if they doubted whether I was in truth a human
being.”
Ali now, with the base idea of insulting an unprotected stranger,
ordered a wild boar to be brought in, which he signified his desire
that Park should kill and eat. This, well knowing their religious
prejudices, he of course refused to do; upon which the boys who led in
the boar were commanded to let it loose upon him, the Moors supposing
that there exists an inveterate feud between pigs and Christians, and
that it would immediately run upon and gore him. The boar, however,
was more magnanimous. Scorning to attack a defenceless foreigner, he
no sooner found himself at liberty than, brandishing his tusks at the
natives, he rushed at them indiscriminately, and then, to complete
the consternation, took shelter under the very couch upon which
the tyrant was sitting. This bold proceeding of the unclean beast
dissolved the assembly, and the traveller was led away to the tent of
a slave, in front of which, not being permitted to enter, he received
a little food. Here he likewise passed the night lying upon the sand,
surrounded by the curious multitude. Next day, a hut, constructed
with corn-stalks, was given him; but the abovementioned boar, which
had been recaptured, was tied to a stake in the corner of it, as his
fittest companion.
By degrees, however, the Moors began to conceive that the Christian
might in one way or another be rendered useful, but could think of
no better employment for him than that of a barber. In this capacity
he made his first attempt, in the royal presence, on the head of the
young prince of Ludamar. This dignified office he had no great desire
to monopolize, and his unskilfulness in performing the operation, for
he almost at the outset made an incision in the young prince’s head,
quickly reduced him once more to the rank of a common mortal. Ali
seemed by no means desirous, however, of dispensing altogether with his
services, wishing perhaps to preserve him from the same motives which
induce us to preserve a wild beast; and therefore, to render his escape
the more impracticable, took possession of the whole of his baggage,
including his gold, amber, watch, and one of his pocket compasses; the
other he had fortunately buried in the sand composing the floor of his
hut. The gold and amber were highly gratifying to Moorish avarice, but
the pocket compass soon became an object of superstitious curiosity.
“Ali was very desirous to be informed, why that small piece of iron,
the needle, always pointed to the Great Desert, and I found myself
somewhat puzzled to answer the question. To have pleaded my ignorance,
would have created a suspicion that I wished to conceal the real truth
from him; I therefore told him that my mother resided far beyond the
sands of Sahara, and that while she was alive, the piece of iron would
always point that way, and serve as a guide to conduct me to her; and
that if she was dead, it would point to her grave. Ali now looked
at the compass with redoubled amazement; turned it round and round
repeatedly, but observing that it always pointed the same way, he took
it up with great caution, and returned it to me, manifesting that he
thought there was something of magic in it, and that he was afraid of
keeping so dangerous an instrument in his possession.”
It now began to be debated between Ali and his advisers what should
be done with their prisoner. Their decisions were very dissimilar.
Some were of opinion that he should be put to death; others that he
should merely lose his right hand; while a third party thought that
his eyes ought to be put out. Ali himself, however, determined that
matters should remain as they were until his queen Fatima, then in
the north, had seen him. Meanwhile all these reports were related to
our traveller, and tended not a little to distress and agitate his
mind. His demand to be permitted to depart was formally refused. The
accumulated horrors of his situation, united with the want of food and
sleep, at length brought on a fever, by which his life was endangered.
But his persecution from the Moors did not therefore cease. They
plucked his cloak from him; they overwhelmed him with insults; they
tortured him like some ferocious animal, for their amusement; and when,
to escape from this detestable thraldom, he crawled away to a short
distance from the camp, he was forced back by menaces and violence.
At length, after more than a month’s detention at Benowm, he was
commanded to follow Ali to the northern encampment of Bubaker, on the
skirts of the Great Desert, and on the way endured the extremity of
hunger, thirst, and fatigue. Upon arriving at Bubaker, he was shown
as a strange animal to Fatima; who, though far from being exempt from
the Moorish prejudices against a Christian, or in any remarkable
degree disposed to humanity, still treated him with somewhat greater
lenity than the rest of the Moors; and, upon the departure of her
husband for Jarra, not only obtained him permission to join the party,
but prevailed upon the tyrant to restore him his horse, saddle, and
bridle, together with a part of his apparel. His faithful black boy
Demba, however, was taken from him, notwithstanding his animated
remonstrances to Ali, who, upon his pressing the point rather warmly,
only replied, that if he did not instantly mount his horse and depart,
he should share the fate of his slave. “There is something in the frown
of a tyrant,” says Park, “which rouses the most secret emotions of
the heart; I could not suppress my feelings; and for once entertained
an indignant wish to rid the world of such a monster. Poor Demba was
not less affected than myself; he had formed a strong attachment
towards me, and had a cheerfulness of disposition which often beguiled
the tedious hours of captivity; he was likewise a proficient in the
Bambarra tongue, and promised, on that account, to be of great use to
me in future. But it was in vain to expect any thing favourable to
humanity from a people who are strangers to its dictates. So having
shaken hands with this unfortunate boy, and blended my tears with his,
assuring him, however, I would do the best to redeem him, I saw him led
off by three of Ali’s slaves towards the camp at Bubaker.”
Upon his arrival at Jarra, where he was shortly afterward transferred
by Ali to tyrants of a lower grade, his condition, far from being
improved, was only rendered the more intolerable. The city itself,
moreover, was in a state of the utmost confusion. Malcontents from
Kaarta having taken refuge here, had recently made an incursion into
their native country, carried off a large quantity of plunder, and thus
drawn the vengeance of their king against the city. All those who had
reason to dread his resentment were now, therefore, preparing to fly
into Bambarra; and Park, whose route lay in the same direction, became
exceedingly desirous of effecting his escape from the Moors, that he
might seize upon this fortunate occasion of fulfilling the object
of his mission. “Their departure,” says he, speaking of the black
fugitives, “was very affecting: the women and children crying, the men
sullen and dejected, and all of them looking back with regret on their
native town; and on the wells and rocks beyond which their ambition had
never tempted them to stray, and where they had laid all their plans of
future happiness; all of which they were now forced to abandon, and to
seek shelter among strangers.”
Hoping to escape in this confused throng, he mounted his horse; and
taking a bag of corn before him, rode slowly off along with the
townspeople. On their arrival at Queira, a village at no great distance
from the city, Park began to flatter himself that he had really eluded
the vigilance of his persecutors; but before the agreeable idea had got
a firm footing in his mind, he saw Ali’s chief slave, accompanied by
four Moors, arrive, and take up their lodgings with the dooty. Johnson,
our traveller’s interpreter, suspecting the design of this visit, sent
two boys to overhear their conversation, by which means he learned that
it was their intention to carry Park back to Bubaker. Upon this he at
once came to the desperate resolution to effect his deliverance that
very night from his pursuers, or to perish in the attempt. Johnson, who
applauded this determination, but wanted the courage to imitate it, was
nevertheless exceedingly well disposed to aid in effecting his master’s
escape. He therefore undertook to keep watch upon the movements of the
enemy, while Park was preparing for flight. About midnight he got all
his apparel in readiness, which consisted of two shirts, two pair of
trousers, two pocket-handkerchiefs, an upper and under waistcoat, a
hat, a pair of half-boots, and a cloak. Besides these things he had
not in his possession a single bead, or any other article, with which
to purchase food for himself, or provender for his horse:--“About
daybreak, Johnson, who had been listening to the Moors all night,
came,” says he, “and whispered to me that they were all asleep. The
awful crisis was now arrived when I was again either to taste the
blessings of freedom, or languish out my days in captivity. A cold
sweat moistened my forehead as I thought of the dreadful alternative,
and reflected that one way or the other, my fate must be decided in
the course of the ensuing day. But to deliberate was to lose the only
chance of escaping. So taking up my bundle, I stepped gently over the
negroes who were sleeping in the open air; and, having mounted my
horse, I bade Johnson farewell, desiring him to take particular care of
the papers I had intrusted him with, and inform my friends in Gambia
that he had left me in good health on my way to Bambarra. I proceeded
with great caution, surveying each bush, and frequently listening and
looking behind me for the Moorish horsemen, until I was about a mile
from the town, when I was surprised to find myself in the neighbourhood
of a korree, belonging to the Moors. The shepherds followed me for
about a mile, hooting and throwing stones after me; and when I was out
of their reach, and had begun to indulge the pleasing hope of escaping,
I was again greatly alarmed to hear somebody halloo behind me; and
looking back I saw three Moors on horseback, coming after me at full
speed, whooping and brandishing their double-barrel guns: I knew it was
in vain to think of escaping, and therefore turned back and met them;
when two of them caught hold of my bridle, one on each side, and the
third, presenting his musket, told me I must go back to Ali.”
It soon appeared, however, that these gentlemen were merely private
robbers, who were fearful that their master had not sufficiently
pillaged the stranger; for, after examining his bundle, and plundering
him of his cloak, they bade him begone, and follow them no further. Too
happy to be rid of the villains at any rate, he immediately struck
into the woods, and continued his journey. His joy at thus escaping
from the Moors was quickly damped by the consideration that he must
very soon be in want of both food and water, neither of which could he
procure without approaching villages or wells, where he would almost
inevitably encounter his old enemies. He therefore pushed on with all
the vigour of which he was possessed, in the hope of reaching some
town or village of the kingdom of Bambarra. But he already began to
experience the tortures of thirst. His mouth was parched and inflamed;
a sudden dimness, accompanied by symptoms of fainting, would frequently
come over his eyes; and as his horse also was exceedingly fatigued,
he began to apprehend that he should perish of thirst. Some shrubs,
the leaves of which he chewed to relieve the burning pain in his mouth
and throat, were all found to be bitter and of no service. “A little
before sunset, having reached the top of a gentle rising,” says Park,
“I climbed a high tree, from the topmost branches of which I cast a
melancholy look over the barren wilderness, but without discovering the
most distant trace of a human dwelling. The same dismal uniformity of
shrubs and sand everywhere presented itself, and the horizon was level
and uninterrupted as that of the sea.
“Descending from the tree, I found my horse devouring the stubble and
brushwood with great avidity; and as I was now too faint to attempt
walking, and my horse too much fatigued to carry me, I thought it
but an act of humanity, and perhaps the last I should ever have it
in my power to perform, to take off his bridle and let him shift for
himself; in doing which, I was affected with sickness and giddiness;
and, falling upon the sand, felt as if the hour of death was fast
approaching. Here then (thought I), after a short but ineffectual
struggle, terminate all my hopes of being useful in my day and
generation--here must the short span of my life come to an end. I
cast, as I believed, a last look on the surrounding scene, and while
I reflected on the awful change that was about to take place, this
world and its enjoyments seemed to vanish from my recollection. Nature,
however, at length resumed its functions; and on recovering my senses
I found myself stretched upon the sand, with the bridle still in my
hand, and the sun just sinking behind the trees. I now summoned all
my resolution, and determined to make another effort to prolong my
existence: and, as the evening was somewhat cool, I resolved to travel
as far as my limbs would carry me, in hopes of reaching (my only
resource) a watering-place. With this view I put the bridle upon my
horse, and driving him before me, went slowly along for about an hour,
when I perceived some lightning from the north-east--a most delightful
sight, for it promised rain. The darkness and lightning increased very
rapidly; and in less than an hour I heard the wind roaring behind the
bushes. I had already opened my mouth to receive the refreshing drops
which I expected: but I was instantly covered with a cloud of sand,
driven with such force by the wind as to give a very disagreeable
sensation to my face and arms; and I was obliged to mount my horse and
stop under a bush to prevent being suffocated. The sand continued to
fly for near an hour in amazing quantities, after which I again set
forward, and travelled with difficulty until ten o’clock. About this
time I was agreeably surprised by some very vivid flashes of lightning,
followed by a few heavy drops of rain. In a little time the sand ceased
to fly, and I alighted and spread out all my clean clothes to collect
the rain, which at length I saw would certainly fall. For more than an
hour it rained plentifully, and I quenched my thirst by wringing and
sucking my clothes.
“There being no moon, it was remarkably dark; so that I was obliged to
lead my horse, and direct my way by the compass, which the lightning
enabled me to observe. In this manner I travelled with tolerable
expedition until past midnight; when the lightning became more distant,
and I was under the necessity of groping along, to the no small danger
of my hands and eyes. About two o’clock my horse started at something;
and, looking round, I was not a little surprised to see a light at
a short distance among the trees, and supposing it to be a town, I
groped along the sand in hopes of finding corn-stalks, cotton, or
other appearances of cultivation, but found none. As I approached, I
perceived a number of other lights in different places, and began to
suspect that I had fallen upon a party of Moors. However, in my present
situation, I was resolved to see who they were, if I could do it with
safety. I accordingly led my horse cautiously towards the light, and
heard by the lowing of the cattle, and the clamorous tongues of the
herdsmen, that it was a watering-place, and most likely belonged to
the Moors. Delightful as the sound of the human voice was to me, I
resolved once more to strike into the woods, and rather run the risk
of perishing with hunger, than trust myself again in their hands; but
being still thirsty, and dreading the approach of the burning day, I
thought it prudent to search for the wells, which I expected to find
at no great distance. In this pursuit I inadvertently approached so
near one of the tents as to to be perceived by a woman, who immediately
screamed out. The people came running to her assistance from some of
the neighbouring tents, and passed so very near me that I thought I was
discovered, and hastened again into the woods.
“About a mile from this place I heard a loud and confused noise,
somewhere to the right of my course, and in a short time was happy
to find it was the croaking of frogs, which was heavenly music to my
ears. I followed the sound, and at daybreak arrived at some shallow
muddy pools, so full of frogs that it was difficult to discern the
water. The noise they made frightened my horse, and I was obliged to
keep them quiet by beating the water with a branch until he had drunk.
Having here quenched my thirst, I ascended a tree, and the morning
being clear, I soon perceived the smoke of the watering-place which
I had passed in the night, and observed another pillar of smoke,
east-southeast, distant 12 or 14 miles.”
Towards this column of smoke, which, as he was informed, arose from
a Foulah village, he now directed his course; but on arriving at the
place, was inhospitably driven from every door, except that of an old
woman, who kindly received him into her dwelling, and furnished him
with food for himself and with provender for his horse. Even here,
however, the influence of Ali pursued him like his evil genius. The
people who had collected round him while he was eating, began, as
he clearly discovered from their expressions, to form the design of
carrying him back once more to Benowm or Bubaker. He therefore hastened
his departure, and having wandered among the woods all day, passed the
night under a tree. In this way he continued his journey, sometimes
meeting with hospitality, but more frequently avoiding the dwellings of
man, and subsisting upon the wild produce of the woods, and the water
of a few pools, to which the croaking of the frogs directed him.
At length he entered the kingdom of Bambarra, where he found the people
more hospitable in proportion as they were more opulent than their
neighbours. Cultivation was here carried on in a spirited manner and
on an extensive scale, and “hunger,” as the natives expressed it,
“was never known.” The country itself was beautiful, intersected on
all sides by rivulets, which, after a rain-storm, were swelled into
rapid streams. Park’s horse was now so attenuated by fatigue that it
appeared like a mere skeleton, which the traveller, fearing to mount,
drove before him, as if to scare away the crows. The Bambarrans, whose
hospitable disposition was accompanied by but little delicacy, were
infinitely amused at this droll spectacle. Taking him for a Moor, they
supposed from his appearance that he must be one of those religious
mendicants who, having performed the pilgrimage to the holy cities,
thenceforward consider themselves fully entitled to subsist upon the
labours of their industrious coreligionists. “‘He has been at Mecca,’
said one; ‘you may see that by his clothes.’ Another asked if my horse
was sick; a third wished to purchase it, &c. So that I believe the very
slaves were ashamed to be seen in my company.”
However, in spite of all this laughter and ridicule, he proceeded on
his way, and at length had the satisfaction to be informed that on the
morrow he should see the Niger, denominated _Joliba_, or the “Great
Water,” by the natives. Next morning, the 21st of July, after passing
through several large villages, he saw the smoke ascend over Sego,
the capital of Bambarra, and felt elate with joy at the thought of
drawing near so important an object of his mission. “As we approached
the town,” says Park, “I was fortunate enough to overtake the fugitive
Kaartans, to whose kindness I had been so much indebted in my journey
through Bambarra. They readily agreed to introduce me to the king, and
we rode together through some marshy ground, where, as I anxiously
looked around for the river, one of them called out _Geo affilli_
(see the water); and, looking forward, I saw with infinite pleasure
the great object of my mission,--the long sought for, majestic Niger,
glittering to the morning sun, as broad as the Thames at Westminster,
and flowing slowly _to the eastward_. I hastened to the brink, and,
having drunk of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in prayer
to the Great Ruler of all things for having thus far crowned my
endeavours with success.”
Sego, the capital of Bambarra, consisted of four distinct towns, two
on the northern, and two on the southern bank of the Niger. The king
at this period resided on the southern bank, while Park had arrived on
the opposite side. The communication between the different quarters of
the city was kept up by means of large canoes, which were constantly
passing and repassing; notwithstanding which, so great was the pressure
of passengers, that Park was compelled to wait upwards of two hours
before he could obtain even a chance of being ferried over. Meanwhile,
the prospect before him was novel and striking in the highest degree.
“The view of this extensive city,” he observes, “the numerous canoes
on the river, the crowded population, and the cultivated state of the
surrounding country formed altogether a prospect of civilization and
magnificence which I little expected to find in the bosom of Africa.”
While he was thus waiting for a passage, the news was conveyed to
Mansong that a white man was on the banks of the river coming to see
him. The king, who seems to have been alarmed at this intelligence,
immediately despatched a messenger, who was directed to inform the
stranger that he would not be admitted into the royal presence until
the purport of his mission were made known; and that, in the mean
while, he was prohibited from passing the river. He was likewise told
that the king desired him to seek lodgings in one of the villages in
the vicinity of the capital. As there was no alternative, he at once
set out for the village, where, to his great mortification, he found
that no person would admit him into his house. “I was regarded with
astonishment and fear,” he observes, “and was obliged to sit all day
without victuals in the shade of a tree; and the night threatened to be
very uncomfortable, for the wind rose, and there was great appearance
of a heavy rain; and the wild beasts were so very numerous in the
neighbourhood, that I should have been under the necessity of climbing
up a tree, and resting among the branches. About sunset, however, as
I was preparing to pass the night in this manner, and had turned my
horse loose that he might graze at liberty, a woman returning from
the labours of the field stopped to observe me, and, perceiving that
I was weary and dejected, inquired into my situation, which I briefly
explained to her; whereupon, with looks of great compassion, she took
up my saddle and bridle, and told me to follow her. Having conducted
me into her hut, she lighted up a lamp, spread a mat upon the floor,
and told me I might remain there for the night. Finding that I was very
hungry, she said she would procure me something to eat; she accordingly
went out, and returned in a short time with a very fine fish, which,
having caused to be half-broiled upon some embers, she gave me for
supper. The rites of hospitality being thus performed towards a
stranger in distress, my worthy benefactress, pointing to the mat, and
telling me I might sleep there without apprehension, called to the
female part of her family, who had stood gazing on me all the while in
fixed astonishment, to resume their task of spinning cotton, in which
they continued to employ themselves great part of the night. They
lightened their labour by songs, one of which was composed extempore,
for I was myself the subject of it; it was sung by one of the young
women, the rest joining in a sort of chorus. The air was sweet and
plaintive, and the words literally translated were these:--‘The winds
roared, and the rains fell; the poor white man, faint and weary, came
and sat under our tree; he has no mother to bring him milk, no wife to
grind his corn.’ Chorus:--‘Let us pity the white man, no mother has
he,’ &c. Trifling as this recital may appear to the reader, to a person
in my situation the circumstance was affecting in the highest degree.
I was oppressed by such unexpected kindness that sleep fled my eyes. In
the morning I presented my compassionate landlady with two of the four
brass buttons which remained on my waistcoat, the only recompense I
could make her.”
Although Mansong refused to admit our traveller into his presence, and
seemed at first to neglect him, it soon appeared that this conduct did
not arise from any churlish or inhospitable feelings; for while he
persisted in his refusal to see him, and signified his pleasure that he
should forthwith depart from the city, he sent him a present of five
thousand cowries and a guide to Sansanding. Park immediately obeyed
the royal command, and learned from the conversation of his guide on
the way, that the king’s motives for thus dismissing him without an
audience were at once prudent and liberal, since he feared that by the
least show of favour he should excite the jealousy and envy of the
Moorish inhabitants, from whose inveterate malice he might be unable to
protect him.
With this guide he proceeded to Sansanding, where he was hospitably
received by the dooty, and would, as the king’s stranger, have enjoyed
much quiet and consideration, had he not had the misfortune to meet
with some of his old enemies the Moors, who insisted on conducting him
to the mosque, and converting him into a Mohammedan at once. However,
the dooty, by exerting his authority, freed him from these fanatics,
and ordered a sheep to be killed, and part of it dressed for his
supper. “About midnight, when the Moors had left me,” says Park, “he
paid me a visit, and with much earnestness desired me to write him a
saphie. ‘If a Moor’s saphie is good,’ said this hospitable old man, ‘a
white man’s must needs be better.’ I readily furnished him with one
possessed of all the virtues I could concentrate, for it contained the
Lord’s Prayer. The pen with which it was written was made of a reed, a
little charcoal and gum-water made very tolerable ink, and a thin board
answered the purpose of paper.”
From Sansanding he departed early in the morning, before the Moors
were stirring. The road now lay through the woods, and the guide, who
understood the dangers of the way, moved forward with the greatest
circumspection, frequently stopping and looking under the bushes. Upon
observing this, Park inquired the reason, and was told that lions were
very plentiful in that part of the country, and very often attacked
travellers in the woods. While they were conversing on this subject
Park discovered a camelopard at a little distance, the fore-legs of
which, from a hasty glance, appeared much longer than the hinder.
“Shortly after this,” says he, “as we were crossing a large open
plain where there were a few scattered bushes, my guide, who was a
little way before me, wheeled his horse round in a moment, calling out
something in the Foulah language which I did not understand. I inquired
in Mandingo what he meant. ‘_Wara billi billi_’ (a very large lion)!
said he, and made signs for me to ride away. But my horse was too much
fatigued; so we rode slowly past the bush from which the animal had
given us the alarm. Not seeing any thing myself, however, I thought my
guide had been mistaken, when the Foulah suddenly put his hand to his
mouth, exclaiming, ‘_Soubah an alluhi_’ (God preserve us)! and to my
great surprise I then perceived a large red lion at a short distance
from the bush, with his head couched between his fore-paws. I expected
he would instantly spring upon me, and instinctively pulled my feet
from my stirrups to throw myself on the ground, that my horse might
become the victim rather than myself. But it is probable the lion was
not hungry; for he quietly suffered us to pass, though we were fairly
within his reach.”
About sunset they arrived at Moodiboo, “a delightful village on the
banks of the Niger, commanding a view of the river for many miles, both
to the east and west. The small green islands, the peaceful retreat
of some industrious Foulahs, whose cattle were here secure from the
attacks of wild beasts, and the majestic breadth of the river, which
is here much larger than at Sego, render the situation one of the
most enchanting in the world.” Park was now so worn out with fatigue
and suffering, that his landlord, fearing he might die in his house,
hurried him away, though he was scarcely able to walk, and his horse
still less able to carry him. In fact, they had not proceeded far
before the poor beast fell down, and could no more be made to rise;
so that, taking off his saddle and bridle, our traveller with extreme
reluctance abandoned him to his fate, and began to toil along on foot
after his guide. In this way they reached Kea, a small fishing-village
on the Niger, where Park embarked in a fisherman’s canoe which was
going down the stream, while the guide returned to Sego.
In this canoe our traveller reached Moorzan, whence he was conveyed
across the river to Silla, a large town on the opposite shore. It
was with great difficulty that he here obtained admission into the
strangers’ room of the dooty’s house, a damp, uncomfortable place,
where he had a severe paroxysm of fever during the night. Here his
resolution and energy, of which no traveller ever possessed a larger
share, began at length to fail. No hope of success remained. He
therefore, with extreme sorrow and anguish of mind, determined on
returning whence he had come; but let me lay before the reader his
own simple and manly account of the matter, which cannot fail to
impress even the most insensible with veneration for a degree of
courage and intrepidity amounting to heroism. “Worn down by sickness,
exhausted by hunger and fatigue, half-naked, and without any article
of value by which I might procure provisions, clothes, or lodging,
I began,” says Park, “to reflect seriously on my situation. I was
now convinced by painful experience that the obstacles to my further
progress were insurmountable. The tropical rains had already set in
with all their violence; the rice-grounds and swamps were already
overflowed; and in a few days more travelling of every kind except by
water would be completely obstructed. The cowries which remained of
the King of Bambarra’s present were not sufficient to hire a canoe
for any great distance; and I had but little hopes of subsisting by
charity in a country where the Moors have such influence. But, above
all, I perceived I was advancing more and more within the power of
those merciless fanatics; and from my reception both at Sego and
Sansanding, I was apprehensive that, in attempting to reach even
Jeuné (unless under the protection of some man of consequence among
them, which I had no means of obtaining), I should sacrifice my life
to no purpose; for my discoveries would perish with me. The prospect
either way was gloomy. In returning to the Gambia, a journey on foot
of many hundred miles presented itself to my contemplation, through
regions and countries unknown. Nevertheless, this seemed to be the only
alternative; for I saw inevitable destruction in attempting to proceed
to the eastward. With this conviction on my mind, I hope my readers
will acknowledge I did right in going no farther. I had made every
exertion to execute my mission in its fullest extent which prudence
could justify. Had there been the most distant prospect of a successful
termination, neither the unavoidable hardships of the journey nor the
dangers of a second captivity should have forced me to desist. This,
however, necessity compelled me to do.”
When he had come to this resolution, he thought it incumbent upon
him before he left Silla to collect whatever information might be
within his reach respecting the further course of the Niger, and
the situation and extent of the various kingdoms in its vicinity.
Subsequent travellers have solved the problem, the honour of explaining
which was denied to Park. We now know that this great river, after
having flowed to a considerable distance eastward of Timbuctoo,
makes a bend or elbow like the Burrampooter, and, after pursuing a
south-westerly course, falls into the Atlantic Ocean on the coast of
Benin.
On the 30th of July our traveller commenced his return westward, by
the same route through which he had reached Silla. In a few days he
recovered his horse, which had in some measure regained its strength,
though it was still too weak to be ridden. The rainy season having now
set in, the whole of the plain country was quickly inundated; so that
our traveller was often in danger of losing his way while traversing
savannahs many miles in extent, knee-deep in water. In several places
he waded breast-deep across the swamps. The huts of the villages in
which he passed the night, being undermined or softened by the rain,
often fell in; and the noise of their fall sometimes kept him awake,
expecting that his own might be the next. His situation was now even
worse than during his progress eastward. A report had been widely
circulated that he was a spy, in consequence of which he was in some
places civilly refused admittance into the towns, in others repulsed
from the gates with violence; so that he now appeared inevitably
doomed to perish of hunger. However, when the fatal hour seemed at
hand, some charitable being always appeared with a poor but seasonable
supply, such, perhaps, as a little raw corn, which prolonged his life,
and supplied him with strength to achieve his memorable journey. “On
the evening of the 15th of August I arrived,” says Park, “at a small
village called Song, the surly inhabitants of which would not receive
me, nor so much as permit me to enter the gate; but as lions were very
numerous in this neighbourhood, and I had frequently in the course of
the day seen the impression of their feet upon the road, I resolved to
stay in the vicinity of the village. Having collected some grass for
my horse, I accordingly laid down under a tree by the gate. About ten
o’clock I heard the hollow roar of a lion at no great distance, and
attempted to open the gate; but the people from within told me that no
person must attempt to enter the gate without the dooty’s permission.
I begged them to inform the dooty that a lion was approaching the
village, and I hoped he would allow me to come within the gate. I
waited for an answer to this message with great anxiety; for the lion
kept prowling round the village, and once advanced so very near me that
I heard him rustling among the grass, and climbed the tree for safety.
About midnight the dooty with some of his people opened the gate, and
desired me to come in. They were convinced, they said, I was not a
Moor; for no Moor ever waited any time at the gate of a village without
cursing the inhabitants.”
The history of this journey now becomes nothing more than a repetition
of similar sufferings. Hunger, fatigue, and depression of spirits
attack the traveller by turns. Nothing, however, subdues his courage.
Obstacle after obstacle yields to his persevering intrepidity, and
he pushes forward with invincible ardour towards the coast. In one
place, at the request of a native who had grown opulent by industrious
application to commerce, he wrote charms for a good supper; and,
finding the contrivance productive, continued the practice next day for
small presents of various kinds. On other occasions, where superstition
did not come to his aid, humanity interposed, and snatched him from
starvation. At Bammakoo he was hospitably treated, even by a Moor,
who, having travelled to Rio Grande, had conversed with Christians,
and conceived a favourable idea of their character. The rains had now
increased the Niger to a vast size, and rendered impassable almost
every road; but, as our traveller’s finances had long been exhausted,
he found himself compelled to proceed, the charity of the natives
not extending so far as to the maintaining of a stranger for several
months. The ordinary roads being obstructed by the rains, the only
practicable route, wild, dreary, and desolate, lay over steril rocky
mountains, over which, it was feared, a horse could not pass.
Finding that a singing-man was about to proceed by this road to
Sibidooloo, Park placed himself under his guidance, and quitted
Bammakoo. He had not proceeded far, however, before his companion,
finding that he had taken the wrong path, escaped among the rocks,
and left him to find his way how he might. He soon arrived at a
village, where he was entertained with hospitality, and where he
passed the night. Next day, as he was quietly pursuing his course,
a troop of peasants presented themselves, whom he at first took
for elephant-hunters, but who very shortly proved themselves to be
banditti. Pretending to arrest him in the name of the King of the
Foulahs, they commanded him to follow them, until, having reached a
dark lonely part of a wood, one of them exclaimed in the Mandingo
language, “This place will do!” and immediately snatched his hat from
his head. “Though I was by no means free from apprehension,” says Park,
“yet I was resolved to show as few signs of fear as possible; and
therefore told them, that unless my hat was returned to me I should
proceed no farther. But before I had time to receive an answer another
drew a knife, and, seizing upon a metal button which remained upon my
waistcoat, cut it off, and put it into his pocket. Their intentions
were now obvious; and I thought that the easier they were permitted
to rob me of every thing the less I had to fear. I therefore allowed
them to search my pockets without resistance, and examine every part
of my apparel, which they did with the most scrupulous exactness.
But, observing that I had one waistcoat under another, they insisted
that I should cast them both off; and at last, to make sure work,
stripped me quite naked. Even my half-boots, though the sole of one of
them was tied on to my foot with a broken bridle-rein, were minutely
inspected. While they were examining the plunder, I begged them with
great earnestness to return my pocket-compass; but when I pointed
it out to them, as it was lying on the ground, one of the banditti,
thinking I was about to take it up, cocked his musket, and swore he
would lay me dead upon the spot if I presumed to put my hand upon it.
After this, some of them went away with my horse, and the remainder
stood considering whether they should leave me quite naked, or allow me
something to shelter me from the sun. Humanity at last prevailed; they
returned me the worst of the two shirts and a pair of trousers; and, as
they went away, one of them threw back my hat, in the crown of which I
kept my memorandums; and this was probably the reason why they did not
wish to keep it.”
This was the most terrible misfortune that had hitherto befallen him,
and at first, his mind appeared to sink under the united influence
of grief and terror. For a while he sat in sullen dejection,
half-persuaded that he had no alternative but to lie down and perish.
Presently, however, thoughts of religion, and a reliance upon
Providence, succeeding this extreme dejection, his mind gradually
regained its fervent tone:--
“I was, indeed, a stranger,” he thought, “in a strange land; yet I was
still under the protecting eye of that Providence, who has condescended
to call himself the stranger’s friend. At this moment, painful as
my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty of a small moss in
fructification irresistibly caught my eye. I mention this to show from
what trifling circumstances the mind will sometimes derive consolation;
for though the whole plant was not larger than the top of one of my
fingers, I could not contemplate the delicate conformation of its
roots, leaves, and capsula without admiration. Can that Being (thought
I) who planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this obscure
part of the world, a thing which appears of so small importance, look
with unconcern upon the situation and sufferings of creatures formed
after his own image? Surely not! Reflections like these would not allow
me to despair; I started up, and, disregarding both danger and fatigue,
travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand; and I was not
disappointed.”
On arriving at Sibidooloo, Park related to the mansa, or chief of the
town, the misfortune which had befallen him. This humane and excellent
man, having heard him patiently to an end, took the pipe from his
mouth, and tossing up the sleeve of his coat with an indignant air,
“Sit down,” said he, “you shall have every thing restored to you; I
have sworn it.” He then took the necessary measures for the recovery of
the traveller’s property, and invited him to partake of his hospitable
fare until this should have been effected. After spending a few days at
this place, without hearing any news of his horse or other property,
our traveller removed to a distant village, where he remained until the
whole was discovered and restored to him, with the exception of his
pocket compass, which had been broken to pieces. Having nothing else to
bestow upon his hospitable landlords, he gave his horse to one, and his
saddle and bridle to the other: and then taking his leave, proceeded
on foot to Kamalia. At this town, romantically situated at the foot of
a lofty mountain, he found a slave-merchant, who, intending to descend
to the coast with a small caravan in the beginning of the dry season,
offered our traveller an asylum until he should set out. Conceiving
that it would be impossible to proceed during the rains, Park accepted
his kind proposal, and promised in return to give him the price of a
slave upon their arrival on the coast. Here a fever, which had for some
time menaced him, manifested itself with great violence, and continued
to torment him during the whole season of the rains. His landlord,
meanwhile, exerted himself to keep up his hopes, and having by some
means or another obtained possession of an English Common Prayer Book,
he communicated the use of it to Park, who was thus enabled to beguile
the gloomy hours of his solitude and sickness. At length the rains
became less frequent, and the fever abated, so that he could move out
to enjoy the fresh air in the fields.
On the 19th of April, Karfa, the slave-merchant, having collected his
slaves, and completed all necessary preparations, set out towards the
coast, taking our traveller, to whom his behaviour had always been
marked by the greatest kindness, along with him. Their road led them
across a vast wilderness, where the sufferings of every member of the
caravan, and more particularly of the slaves, were most exquisite; but
affliction was far from having taught them commiseration, for a fine
young female slave, fainting from fatigue, had no sooner signified
her inability to go on, than the universal cry of the caravan was,
“cut her throat, cut her throat.” By the interposition of Karfa her
life was spared, but she was abandoned on the road, where she was no
doubt soon devoured by wild beasts. At length, after a long, toilsome
journey, Karfa succeeded in fulfilling his promise, and conducted our
traveller safe to Pisania, where the good old man was overwhelmed with
the gratitude of his guest. Park now took his passage in an American
vessel, and on arriving in the West Indies, quitted this ship for a
packet bound for Falmouth, where he arrived on the 22d of December,
1797, after an absence of two years and seven months.
Immediately on his landing he hastened to London, where he arrived
before daylight on the morning of Christmas-day. It being too early an
hour to call on his brother-in-law, Mr. Dickson, he strolled about for
some time in the neighbouring streets. At length, finding one of the
entrances into the gardens of the British Museum accidentally open,
he went in and walked about there for some time. It happened that Mr.
Dickson, who had the care of those gardens, went there early that
morning on some trifling business. What must have been his emotions on
beholding, at that extraordinary time and place, the vision, as it must
at first have appeared, of his long lost friend, the object of so many
anxious reflections, and whom he had long numbered with the dead.
He was now received with distinguished honour by the African
Association, and the various literary men whom he met with in London.
In the mean time his travels, which the Association permitted him to
publish on his own account, were announced; and both during his stay
in London, and the visit which he paid to his friends in Scotland,
all his leisure hours were devoted to the compiling and arranging
of the materials for the work. It appeared in the spring of 1799,
and immediately acquired that degree of popularity which it has ever
since maintained. In the composition of his travels, however, he was
assisted by Bryan Edwards, author of a “History of the West Indies,”
an advocate of the slave-trade, in deference to whom Park is said
to have suppressed his own opinions, which had a contrary tendency.
The apology offered for this mean compliance is, that Bryan Edwards,
being secretary to the African Association, had it in his power
greatly to influence the future fortunes of our traveller. I should
prefer supposing that his arguments produced a temporary conviction
upon Park’s mind, unless some more convincing proof than has yet been
brought forward could be adduced to substantiate the accusation of so
remarkable a deficiency of moral courage in a man in whom, on all other
occasions, courage seemed to be the prevailing virtue.
However this may be, Park again returned to Scotland soon after the
publication of his travels, where, on the 2d of August, 1799, he
married one of the daughters of Mr. Anderson, of Selkirk, with whom
he had served his apprenticeship. He now seemed to have forgotten
his ambitious feelings, and for more than two years resided on the
farm at Fowlshiels, with his mother and one of his brothers. He then
removed to the town of Peebles, where he resumed the practice of his
profession, and seems, in a short time, to have acquired a good share
of the business of the place. But it will easily be imagined that the
quiet obscure life of a country surgeon could possess no charms for
an ardent ambitious mind like Park’s. He longed to be performing upon
some more stirring scene. In this dreary solitude, therefore, where
the indulgence of day-dreams would appear to have been his principal
amusement, scheme after scheme seems to have presented itself to his
mind, each giving way in its turn to another equally impracticable.
At length he received, through the medium of Sir Joseph Banks,
intelligence that the African Association were once more about to send
a mission into the interior of Africa, for the purpose of penetrating
to and navigating the Niger; and that, in case government should enter
into the plan, he himself would certainly be recommended as the person
proper to be employed for carrying it into execution.
Dilatoriness is too frequently the characteristic of the proceedings
of great public bodies. The first idea of this new mission was
conceived in 1801, but it was not until the beginning of 1805 that
the expedition was ultimately determined on, when Park received from
Lord Camden his appointment as its chief conductor. “For the better
enabling you to execute this service,” says his lordship, “his majesty
has granted you the brevet commission of captain in Africa, and has
also granted a similar commission of lieutenant to Mr. Alexander
Anderson, whom you have recommended as a proper person to accompany
you. Mr. Scott has also been selected to attend you as draughtsman. You
are hereby empowered to enlist with you for this expedition any number
you think proper of the garrison at Goree, not exceeding forty-five,
which the commandant of that island will be ordered to place under your
command, giving them such bounties or encouragement as may be necessary
to induce them cheerfully to join with you in the expedition.”
Five thousand pounds were at the same time placed at Park’s disposal,
and further directions given him respecting the course and line of
conduct he was expected to pursue. With these instructions Park and
his companions proceeded to Portsmouth, where they were joined by four
or five artificers, appointed for the service from the dock-yards.
They sailed on the 30th of January, and on the 28th of April arrived
at Pisania. Here they made preparations for entering the interior. The
party consisted of forty men, two lieutenants, a draughtsman, a guide,
and Park himself. Their provisions and merchandise were carried by
asses, and they had horses for themselves. Thus appointed, they left
Pisania on the 4th of May. It was very quickly discovered, however,
that their asses were unequal to the task imposed upon them; some lay
down, others kicked off their burdens, and it became necessary to
increase the number of these vicious animals.
At Bady, a town in the interior frontier of Woolli, they were led into
a quarrel with the farauba, or chief of the town, respecting the
amount of duties to be paid by their caravan, in which, though the
conduct of the African was rude and peremptory, the travellers were
clearly in the wrong. A few days after this affair the caravan had an
adventure with a new species of enemy. On the 24th of May they reached
a place which they denominated Bee’s Creek, where they halted with the
intention of encamping there. “We had no sooner unloaded the asses at
the creek,” says Park, “than some of Isaaco’s people, being in search
of honey, unfortunately disturbed a large swarm of bees near where the
coffle had halted. The bees came out in immense numbers, and attacked
men and beasts at the same time. Luckily, most of the asses were loose,
and galloped up the valley; but the horses and people were very much
stung, and obliged to scamper in all directions. The fire which had
been kindled for cooking, having been deserted, spread and set fire to
the bamboos; and our baggage had like to have been burnt. In fact, for
half an hour the bees seemed to have put an end to our journey.
“In the evening, when the bees became less troublesome, and we could
venture to collect our cattle, we found that many of them were very
much stung and swelled about the head. Three asses were missing; one
died in the evening and one next morning, and we were compelled to
leave one at Sibikillin; in all six: besides which, our guide lost his
horse, and many of the people were very much stung about the face and
hands.”
About the middle of June the rains began to set in, accompanied
by violent tornadoes. The earth was quickly covered with water.
The soldiers were affected with vomiting, or with an irresistible
inclination to sleep. Our traveller himself was affected in a similar
manner during the storm, and, notwithstanding that he used every
exertion to keep away heaviness, at length fell asleep on the damp
ground. The soldiers did the same thing. In the morning twelve of
them were sick. In this vicinity he saw many pits, from which gold was
obtained in large quantities by washing. As the caravan proceeded, many
of the soldiers growing delirious, or too weak to continue the march,
were left behind to the care of the natives; while others died on the
road, or were drowned in the rivers. Some, still more unfortunate if
possible, were lost in the woods, where they were no doubt devoured
by wild beasts. Meanwhile the natives, who imagined that the caravan
contained prodigious wealth, hung upon their march, plundered them
at every turn, and as often as they appeared too weak to resist,
endeavoured to extort presents from them.
The condition of the men now became desperate. Day after day some poor
wretch was abandoned to his fate, some in one way, some in another.
I give one example which may serve for the whole. “Three miles east
of the village of Koombandi,” says Park, “William Alston, one of the
seamen whom I received from his majesty’s ship Squirrel, became so
faint that he fell from his ass, and allowed the ass to run away.
Set him on my horse, but found he could not sit without holding him.
Replaced him on the ass, but he still tumbled off. Put him again on the
horse, and made one man hold him upright while I led the horse; but, as
he made no exertion to hold himself erect, it was impossible to keep
him on the horse, and after repeated tumbles he begged to be left in
the woods till morning. I left a loaded pistol with him, and put some
cartridges into the crown of his hat.”
In crossing the Wondu the caravan was nearly deprived of its guide in
the following manner: “Our guide, Isaaco, was very active in pushing
the asses into the water, and shoving along the canoe; but as he was
afraid that we could not have them all carried over in the course of
the day, he attempted to drive six of the asses across the river
farther down, where the water was shallower. When he had reached the
middle of the river, a crocodile rose close to him, and instantly
seizing him by the left thigh, pulled him under water. With wonderful
presence of mind he felt the head of the animal, and thrust his finger
into its eye, on which it quitted its hold, and Isaaco attempted to
reach the farther shore, calling loudly for a knife. But the crocodile
returned and seized him by the other thigh, and again pulled him under
water; he had recourse to the same expedient, and thrust his fingers
into its eyes with such violence that it again quitted him; when it
arose, flounced about on the surface of the water as if stupid, and
then swam down the middle of the river. Isaaco proceeded to the other
side, bleeding very much.”
This event retarded for several days the march of the caravan. Besides,
Park himself was attacked with fever, and their provisions, moreover,
were now reduced to so low an ebb, that upon examination it was found
that no more than rice for two days remained in their possession. This
deficiency was, therefore, to be immediately supplied. Two persons
were sent away with an ass to a distant village for rice, and in the
mean time our traveller devoted his attentions to the wounds of the
guide. The sailor who had been abandoned in the woods here rejoined
the caravan quite naked, having been robbed of his clothes by the
natives. The audacity of these thieves was extraordinary. In ascending
an eminence two miles from Maniakono, Park himself was robbed in a very
characteristic manner:--“As I was holding my musket carelessly in my
hand, and looking round,” says he, “two of Numma’s sons came up to me;
one of them requested me to give him some snuff; at this instant the
other (called Woosaba), coming up behind me, snatched the musket from
my hand, and ran off with it. I instantly sprung from the saddle and
followed him with my sword, calling to Mr. Anderson to ride back, and
tell some of the people to look after my horse. Mr. Anderson got within
musket-shot of him; but, seeing it was Numma’s son, had some doubts
about shooting him, and called to me if he should fire. Luckily I did
not hear him, or I might possibly have recovered my musket at the risk
of a long palaver, and perhaps the loss of half our baggage. The thief
accordingly made his escape among the rocks; and when I returned to my
horse, I found the other of the royal descendants had stolen my coat.”
Their condition was now exceedingly distressing. Not only the soldiers
and sailors, but Scott and Anderson began to lag behind, being attacked
by fever, the first effect of which in those countries is to deprive
the sufferer of his energies. Having remained for some time by the
wayside with his dying friend, he placed him, when his strength
appeared for a moment to return, upon his horse, and pushed forward
towards their proposed halting-place, leading the horse by the bridle.
“We had not proceeded above a mile,” says Park, “before we heard on our
left a noise very much like the barking of a large mastiff, but ending
in a hiss like the fuff[1] of a cat. I thought it must be some large
monkey; and was observing to Mr. Anderson, ‘What a bouncing fellow that
must be,’ when we heard another bark nearer to us, and presently a
third still nearer, accompanied with a growl. I now suspected some wild
beast meant to attack us, but could not conjecture of what species it
was likely to be. We had not proceeded a hundred yards farther, when,
coming to an opening in the bushes, I was not a little surprised to
see three lions coming towards us. They were not so red as the lion I
had formerly seen in Bambarra, but of a dusky colour, like that of an
ass. They were very large, and came bounding over the long grass, not
one after another, but all abreast of each other. I was afraid, if I
allowed them to come too near us, and my piece should miss fire, that
we should all be devoured by them. I therefore let go the bridle, and
walked forwards to meet them. As soon as they were within a long shot
of me, I fired at the centre one. I do not think I hit him; but they
all stopped, looked at each other, and then bounded away a few paces,
when one of them stopped and looked back at me. I was too busy in
loading my piece to observe their motions as they went away, and was
very happy to see the last of them march slowly off among the bushes.
We had not proceeded above half a mile farther when we heard another
bark and growl close to us among the bushes. This was, doubtless, one
of the lions before seen; and I was afraid they would follow us till
dark, when they would have too many opportunities of springing on us
unawares. We however heard no more of them.”
[1] _Fuff_ is an expressive Scotch word, applicable in its original
sense to the explosive noise which a cat makes in flying at a dog.
At length, from the brow of a hill, Park had once more the satisfaction
of beholding the Niger, rolling its immense stream along the plain.
But he was in no mood of mind to triumph at the sight. The majority
of his companions had fallen on the way; of thirty-four soldiers
and four carpenters who left the Gambia, only six soldiers and one
carpenter reached the Niger. With this miserable remnant of his
original force he descended the hill, and pitched his tents near
the town of Bambakoo. Here some of the party
embarked in canoes on the Niger, while others proceeded by land to the
neighbourhood of Sego, which they reached on the 19th of September.
Mansong was still king of Bambarra; and being highly gratified with
their presents, not only gave them permission to build a boat on the
Niger at whatever town they pleased, but engaged to protect, as far
as his power extended, the trade of the whites in the interior. Park
selected Sansanding as the place most eligible for building the boat,
and removed thither as quickly as possible. Here immediately on his
arrival he opened a shop, exhibiting a choice assortment of European
goods, which sold so well among the natives that his success excited
the envy of the Jinnic people, the Moors, and the other merchants of
the place, who offered Mansong merchandise to a much greater value than
the presents made him by Park, if he would either kill the strangers or
drive them out of the country. Mansong, however, rejected the offer.
“From the 8th to the 16th nothing of consequence occurred; I found my
shop every day more and more crowded with customers; and such was my
run of business, that I was sometimes forced to employ three tellers
at once to count my cash. I turned one market-day twenty-five thousand
seven hundred and fifty-six pieces of money (cowries).”
Park now received intelligence of the death of Mr. Scott, who had been
left behind near Bambakoo. Mansong very soon convinced the traveller
that he understood the art of receiving presents much better than that
of returning them; for upon being requested to furnish a canoe in
which the mission, now reduced to a very small number, might embark
on the Niger, he sent one after another several half-rotten barks;
two of which Park, seeing no hope of getting better, was at length
compelled to accept, and with these he constructed what he termed a
schooner. Shortly after this he lost his friend Anderson, upon whose
death “I felt myself,” says he, “as if left a second time lonely and
friendless amid the wilds of Africa.” Dreary and perilous as was his
position, however, he still determined to persevere. His companions
were now reduced to four, Lieutenant Martyn and three soldiers, one
of whom was deranged in his mind; yet with this wretched remnant of
a detachment which, it must be confessed, had been thus thinned, or
rather annihilated, by his own ill management and want of foresight, he
purposed following the course of the Niger to its termination, whether
that should prove to be in some great lake or inland sea, or, as he
rather believed, in the Atlantic Ocean. And this voyage, says one of
his biographers, one of the most formidable ever attempted, was to be
undertaken in a crazy and ill-appointed vessel, manned by a few negroes
and a few Europeans!
On the 16th of November, having completed all the necessary
preparations for his voyage, our traveller put the finishing hand to
his journal; and in the interval between that and his embarkation,
which seems to have taken place on the 19th, wrote several letters to
England. These letters, together with the journal, were then delivered
to his guide Isaaco, by whom they were conveyed to the Gambia, from
whence they were transmitted to England; after which nothing certain
or authentic can be said to have been heard either of Park or the
expedition. In 1806, however, vague accounts of the death of Park and
his companions were brought to the British settlements on the coast by
the native traders from the interior; but several years elapsed without
any further intelligence being obtained. At length, in 1810, Colonel
Maxwell, governor of Senegal, despatched Park’s guide, Isaaco, into the
interior, for the purpose of ascertaining the truth or falsehood of the
reports which prevailed, and, should they prove correct, of collecting
information respecting the place and manner of the catastrophe.
After an absence of one year and eight months Isaaco returned to
Senegal, and delivered to the governor a journal of his proceedings,
including a narrative which he had received from Amadi Fatouma,
the guide who accompanied Park from Sansanding down the Niger. The
particulars of Isaaco’s adventures it is altogether unnecessary to
describe. He found Amadi Fatouma at Madina, a village distant a few
hours from Sansanding. On seeing Isaaco, and hearing the name of Park,
he began to weep; and his first words were, “They are all dead.” The
recollection of the melancholy transaction appeared to affect him in
an extraordinary manner, and it was with the utmost reluctance that
he at length consented to recall to memory an event which he seemed
peculiarly desirous of delivering over to oblivion. However, upon the
pressing entreaties of Isaaco, he narrated circumstantially what had
taken place. Upon leaving Sansanding, there were, he said, nine persons
in the canoe; Park, Martyn, three other white men, three slaves, and
himself as their guide and interpreter. They had proceeded but a very
little way down the river before they were pursued and attacked by the
Africans in canoes, particularly in passing Timbuctoo, where a great
number of the natives were killed. Shortly after passing Goronmo, they
lost one white man by sickness. They were now, therefore, reduced to
eight; but as each person had always fifteen muskets loaded and ready
for action, they were still formidable to their enemies.
As Park had laid in a considerable quantity of provisions previous to
his leaving Sansanding, he was enabled to proceed for several days
without stopping at any place, which is the only circumstance that
can account for his passing in safety through the country of so many
hostile nations. At length, however, their wants compelled them to have
some communication with the shore. “We came,” says Amadi Fatouma, “near
a small island, and saw some of the natives; I was sent on shore to buy
some milk. When I got among them, I saw two canoes go on board to sell
fresh provisions, such as fowls, rice, &c. One of the natives wanted to
kill me, and at last he took hold of me, and said I was his prisoner.
Mr. Park, seeing what was passing on shore, suspected the truth. He
stopped the two canoes and people; telling the latter, that if they
should kill me, or keep me prisoner on shore, he would kill them all,
and carry their canoes away with him. Those on shore, suspecting Mr.
Park’s intentions, sent me off in another canoe on board; they were
then released: after which we bought some provisions from them, and
made them some presents. A short time after our departure twenty canoes
came after us from the same place; on coming near, they hailed, and
said, ‘Amadi Fatouma, how can you pass through our country without
giving us any thing?’ I mentioned what they had said to Mr. Park, and
he gave them a few grains of amber and some trinkets, and they went
back peaceably. On coming to a narrow part of the river, we saw on the
shore a great many men sitting down; coming nearer to them they stood
up; we presented our muskets to them, which made them run off into the
interior. A little farther on we came to a very difficult passage. The
rocks had barred the river, but three passages were still open between
them. On coming near one of them, we discovered the same people again,
standing on the top of a large rock; which caused great uneasiness to
us, especially to me, and I seriously promised never to pass there
again without making considerable charitable donations to the poor. We
returned, and went to a pass of less danger, where we passed unmolested.
“We came-to before Carmassee, and gave the chief one piece of baft.
We went on, and anchored before Gourman. Mr. Park sent me on shore
with forty thousand cowries to buy provisions. I went and bought rice,
onions, fowls, milk, &c., and departed late in the evening. The chief
of the village sent a canoe after us, to let us know of a large army
encamped on the top of a very high mountain, waiting for us; and that
we had better return, or be on our guard. We immediately came to an
anchor, and spent there the rest of the day and all the night. We
started in the morning; on passing the abovementioned mountain we saw
the army, composed of Moors with horses and camels, but without any
firearms. As they said nothing to us we passed on quietly, and entered
the country of Haoussa, and came to an anchor. Mr. Park said to me,
‘Now, Amadi, you are at the end of your journey: I engaged you to
conduct me here; you are going to leave me; but before you go you must
give me the names of the necessaries of life, &c., in the language of
the countries through which I am going to pass;’ to which I agreed, and
we spent two days together about it without landing. During our voyage
I was the only one who had landed. We departed, and arrived at Yaour. I
was sent on shore the next morning with a musket and a sabre to carry
to the chief of the village; also with three pieces of white baft for
distribution. I went and gave the chief his present: I also gave one
to Alhagi, one to Alhagibiron, and the other to a person whose name
I forget; all Marabons. The chief gave us a bullock, a sheep, three
jars of honey, and four men’s loads of rice. Mr. Park gave me seven
thousand cowries, and ordered me to buy provisions, which I did; he
told me to go to the chief, and give him five silver rings, some powder
and flints, and tell him that these presents were given to the king
by the white men, who were taking leave of him before they went away.
After the chief had received these things, he inquired if the white
men intended to come back. Mr. Park, being informed of this inquiry,
replied that he could not return any more.[2] Mr. Park had paid me
for my voyage before we left Sansanding: I said to him, ‘I agreed to
carry you into the kingdom of Haoussa; we are now in Haoussa. I have
fulfilled my engagement with you; I am therefore going to leave you
here and return.’”
[2] These words occasioned his death; for the certainty of Mr. Park not
returning induced the chief to withhold the presents from the king.
On the next day Park departed, leaving the guide at the village
of Yaour, where he was put in irons by order of the king, from a
supposition that he had aided the white men in defrauding him of the
customary presents, which the chief of Yaour had in fact received, but
retained for himself. “The next morning, early,” continues the guide,
“the king sent an army to a village called Boussa, near the river-side.
There is before this village a rock across the whole breadth of the
river. One part of the rock is very high; there is a large opening in
that rock in the form of a door, which is the only passage for the
water to pass through; the tide current is here very strong. This army
went and took possession of the top of this opening. Mr. Park came
there after the army had posted itself; he nevertheless attempted to
pass. The people began to attack him, throwing lances, pikes, arrows,
and stones. Mr. Park defended himself for a long time; two of his
slaves at the stern of the canoe were killed; they threw every thing
they had in the canoe into the river, and kept firing; but being
overpowered by numbers, and fatigued, and unable to keep up the canoe
against the current, and no probability of escaping, Mr. Park took hold
of one of the white men and jumped into the water; Martyn did the same,
and they were drowned in the stream in attempting to escape. The only
slave remaining in the boat, seeing the natives persist in throwing
weapons at the canoe without ceasing, stood up and said to them, ‘Stop
throwing now, you see nothing in the canoe, and nobody but myself;
therefore cease. Take me and the canoe, but don’t kill me.’ They took
possession of the canoe and the man, and carried them to the king.
“I was kept in irons three months; the king released me, and gave me a
slave (woman). I immediately went to the slave taken in the canoe, who
told me in what manner Mr. Park and all of them had died, and what I
have related above. I asked him if he was sure nothing had been found
in the canoe after its capture; he said nothing remained in the canoe
but himself and a sword-belt. I asked him where the sword-belt was; he
said the king took it, and had made a girth for his horse with it.”
Such is the narrative of Amadi Fatouma; and the information since
obtained in the country by Captain Clapperton corroborates almost every
important circumstance which it describes. It appears, however, that
certain books (whether printed or manuscript does not appear) were
found in Park’s canoe, some of which were still in the possession of
the chief of Yaour when Clapperton made his inquiries; but the wily
African, who no doubt expected a valuable present for these relics,
refused to deliver them to our traveller’s messenger, and Clapperton
himself, for some reason or another not stated, neglected to visit
this chief in person. It should be remarked, that the Africans who
were questioned by Clapperton seemed all exceedingly desirous of
exculpating their countrymen, perhaps their own friends and relations,
from the charge of having murdered Park and his companions: according
to one narrator, the canoe was caught between two rocks, where the
river, being obstructed in its course, rushed through its narrow
channel with prodigious rapidity. Here the travellers, in attempting
to disembark, were drowned in the sight of an immense multitude who
had assembled to see them pass, and were too timid to attack or assist
them. On another occasion, however, the same person confessed that his
countrymen did indeed discharge their arrows at the travellers, but
not until they had been fired upon from the canoe. But the sheriff of
Bokhary, whose letter was found among the MSS. of Clapperton, asserts
that the inhabitants of Boussa went out against the white men in
great numbers, and attacked them during three successive days; after
which Park and Martyn, who from this account would appear to have
been the only European survivors, threw their papers and baggage into
the water, and leaping in after them were drowned in the stream. It
would answer no useful purpose to push these inquiries any further at
present, as we in reality possess no sufficient materials for coming
to any definite conclusion. There can be no doubt that Mungo Park
perished on the Niger, near Boussa, or that the Africans were the
cause, mediate or immediate, of his death. His character will be best
understood by a careful examination of his life; but it may be useful
to remark, in conclusion, that, although his natural prudence seems
partly to have forsaken him during his second journey, few men have
possessed in a higher degree the virtues of a traveller--intrepidity,
enthusiasm, perseverance, veracity, prudence; his manners, likewise,
though somewhat too stiff and reserved, must upon the whole have been
agreeable, since he was able both in civilized and savage countries
to gain and preserve many friends; among whom by far the most
distinguished was Sir Walter Scott, with whom, during the interval
between his two journeys, he lived on terms of the greatest intimacy.