_AT THE THRESHOLD._
On the 22nd of May 1795, Mungo Park left England on board the
_Endeavour_, an African trader. On the 21st of the following month he
landed at the mouth of the river Gambia.
Bathurst, the present seat of government for the Gambia basin, was
not then in existence, with its present busy European community and
thriving native population, its imposing public buildings and well
laid out streets. The native town of Jillifri on the north bank, and
a little way up the river, was the first place of call in the early
trading days of the Gambia merchants.
From Jillifri the _Endeavour_ ascended the river to Jonkakonda.
The view which opened up before Park as he proceeded was neither
attractive nor promising. The river flowed seaward deep and muddy, its
banks covered with impenetrable forests of mangrove, forming when the
tide was out a horrible expanse of swamp. The air was thick with a
sickening haze, charged with the poisonous exhalations from the fœtid
mud engendered by heat and moisture. Here and there only, a group of
cocoa-nuts, or an isolated bombyx (silk-cotton tree) relieved the
dreary monotony, and gave a momentary pleasure to the eye.
[Map: MUNGO PARK’S TRAVELS. 1794-1805.]
Behind the mangrove swamps the country spread out in a level plain,
“very generally covered with woods, and presenting a tiresome and
gloomy uniformity to the eye; but although nature has denied to the
inhabitants the beauties of romantic landscapes, she has bestowed on
them with a liberal hand the more important blessings of fertility and
abundance.”
At Jonkakonda, which seems to have been one of the chief trading
stations on the river, Park left the _Endeavour_, and proceeded to the
factory of Pisania, a few miles further on.
In Dr. Laidley, the agent in charge, for whom he brought letters,
Park found not only a generous host, but also a thoroughly competent
adviser, and for several succeeding months the merchant’s house and
wide experience were alike at his disposal.
The objects to be attained by his expedition were--To reach the river
Niger by such route as might be found most convenient; to ascertain its
origin, course, and if possible its termination; to visit the chief
towns in its neighbourhood, but more particularly Timbuktu and those of
the Haussa country.
Park’s ardent enthusiasm was ever tempered with the caution and
prudent practical character of his race. Like an old campaigner he set
about learning what was ahead of him, and otherwise preparing for his
difficult and dangerous task. The Mandingo language had to be acquired,
that he might come into more sympathetic touch with the natives, and be
more independent of interpreters, ever a source of profound danger, and
often the greatest obstacle to the advance of the explorer into unknown
countries. In addition inquiries had to be made regarding routes, the
dangers to be avoided, and the general condition of travel in these
parts. Without such information it was clear to him that he would be as
a blind man walking in a country beset with a thousand pitfalls.
But while thus preparing for his task, Park was not oblivious to what
was more immediately around. We get glimpses of him making natural
history collections by day, and taking astronomical observations by
night. In particular he occupied himself in getting up the details of
the trade of the Gambia. Since the time when Stibbs had ascended the
river in the vain hope of reaching the Niger, a considerable change had
come over the commerce of the region. The fancied wealth of Timbuktu
had not been tapped, but the commodities of the countries within
reach of the river had proved no inconsiderable source of profit. In
the year 1730 we find one factory alone consisting of a governor,
deputy-governor, and two other principal officers; eight factors (hence
the word factory) or trading agents, thirteen writers, twenty inferior
attendants and tradesmen, a company of soldiers, and thirty-two negro
servants, not to speak of the crews of various sloops, shallops, and
boats. From that date, however, competition set in, till at the end of
the century the gross value of British exports had fallen to £20,000.
It is worthy of note that even in Park’s time the chief article of
export is slaves. Accustomed as we are in these days to denounce in the
strongest terms this vile traffic, and to brand as the most degraded
and brutal of their race those who engage in it, it is difficult to
realise that less than a century ago we ourselves were the chief
traffickers in human flesh and blood. How little this horrible trade
touched the conscience of the individual or of the country at large is
sufficiently shown by Park’s own narrative. We seek there in vain for a
word of condemnation, or the indication of a consciousness that there
was any iniquity in it. Not, be it noted, for lack of knowledge of the
attendant cruelties or even through lack of pity for the victims. On
the contrary, he describes “the poor wretches while waiting shipment
kept constantly fettered two and two together, and employed in the
labours of the field; and, I am sorry to add, very scantily fed, as
well as harshly treated.”
Later on he accompanied a slave caravan on its way to the coast. With
simple naturalness he tells the whole story of the horrors of the
route, describing the fetters and chains, the frightful marches, with
heavy loads, under a sweltering sun, and with starvation rations; the
whip mercilessly applied to the weary to stimulate them to further
exertions, and the knife placed to the throat of the hopelessly
exhausted, at once to rid them of pain and their drivers of a
burden--“an operation I did not wish to see, and therefore marched on.”
He is quite aware that all these horrors are perpetrated that a
European market may be supplied. He knows also what has preceded the
slave path, and yet, incredible as it may seem, not one indignant
protest is drawn from him, not one appeal to Christian Europe, not
even a word of commendation of the work already inaugurated for its
suppression. Quite the opposite, in fact, on which point let Park
speak for himself. “How far it (slavery) is maintained and supported
by the slave traffic, which for two hundred years the nations of
Europe have carried on with the natives of the coast, it is neither
within my province nor in my power to explain. If my sentiments should
be required concerning the effect which a discontinuance of that
commerce would produce on the manners of the natives, I should have
no hesitation in observing that in the present unenlightened state of
their minds my opinion is, the effect would neither be so extensive or
beneficial as many wise and worthy persons fondly expect.”
The wonder of the thing is intensified, to our mind, when we reflect on
the deep religious nature of Park, his genuine kind-heartedness, his
noble ambitions, and his appreciation of all that is sweet in human
nature. The story is pregnant with meaning as to the influence of our
environment in opening or shutting our eyes to what is going on around
us.
But while Britain was then awakening to a sense of its guilt, and
preparing to purge itself of the unholy traffic, we find from
Park’s notes that a new trade, destined to have almost as terrible
consequences, was already established. Europe, he tells us, took from
the Gambia chiefly slaves, and gave in return spirits and ammunition.
For over two hundred years the unfortunate natives of Africa had been
treated as wild creatures, the lawful prey and spoil of the higher
races. The mother was tempted to sell her child, and the chief his
subjects. Village fought against village, and tribe against tribe,
that American plantations might be tilled. As wild beasts and things
accursed the negroes were shot down in myriads, in myriads they
perished on the road, in myriads were transported to a life of shame
and misery. And now, when a new order of things was about to be
instituted, there had commenced another hundred years of disgraceful
commerce to complete the work of brutalising the West Coast negro,
of blighting all elevating impulses, and suppressing all habits of
industry, transforming him into what he is to-day--the most villainous,
treacherous, and vicious being to be found in all Africa.
Thanks to the slave trade in past centuries, and the gin traffic in
the present, our West Coast Settlements, instead of being bright
jewels in the imperial crown of Britain, are at this day little better
than standing monuments to her disgrace. Happily the closing years
of this century are showing signs of an awakened public conscience.
Governments, companies, and private merchants alike are taking a higher
view of their responsibilities to barbarous races, and before another
half century has come and gone we may hope to see the vile monster
badly scotched if not killed.
But while we gather from Park that in his day the slave trade was
carried on by British merchants without a qualm of conscience, and
that already gunpowder and gin formed the staple articles of barter
for human flesh and blood, it is hardly less noteworthy that Islam was
steadily making its beneficent influence felt throughout the whole
land. He tells us that the inhabitants were divided into two great
classes--the _Sonakies_ or spirit drinkers, and the _Bushreens_ or
Mohammedans: the former, pagans sinking deeper and deeper in the scale
of humanity under the degrading influence of European intercourse
and commerce; the latter ever rising upward, adopting decent dress
and decent behaviour, building mosques and establishing schools, and
specially attempting to stem the flood of vile spirits poured into the
country by Christian merchants.
We have in a previous chapter alluded to the mighty revolution produced
by Islam in the Central Sudan. Here we are only at the missionary
outposts. Further inland, as we follow the footsteps of Park, we shall
see more and more of the good work Mohammedanism had accomplished in
Central Africa.
Meanwhile it was not all study and observation with the young explorer.
He had to go through a seasoning process of an unpleasant nature.
Having on one occasion imprudently exposed himself to the night dew, he
caught a fever, and while recovering had a second attack, which kept
him a prisoner for some additional weeks.
Thanks to the care of Dr. Laidley no evil consequences followed, while
“his company and conversation beguiled the tedious hours during that
gloomy season (the rains): 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.”