_PARK’S SECOND RETURN TO THE GAMBIA._
On the 31st January 1805, Park, with his companions and four or five
artificers, sailed from Portsmouth in the _Crescent_ transport for St.
Jago, Cape Verde Islands.
In crossing the Bay of Biscay they were considerably detained by storms
and contrary winds, so that it took five weeks to reach their primary
destination. From St. Jago, where forty-four donkeys were purchased,
they proceeded to Goree, arriving at that station on the 21st of March.
Here the idea of an expedition to the Niger was received with such
enthusiasm by officers and men alike that the entire garrison was ready
to join--the officers for the adventure and honour of the thing, the
men for the increased pay and promised discharge on their return.
One officer, Lieutenant Martyn, was selected, and with him thirty-five
privates and two seamen.
Park’s idea of taking with him a considerable number of European
artisans and soldiers must be considered one of the greatest blunders
he ever made. A moment’s thought should surely have told him that he
ran a terrible risk of speedily losing the greater number by death, and
that through sickness the majority of those who kept alive would be
more a hindrance than a help to him. He should have known that these
ignorant men were not as he himself seemed to be--rendered disease and
privation proof by the determination to achieve a certain great object.
Against all forms of death, save death by violence, his _will_ was to
him a magic mail. With his men it was different. Ignorant of what was
before them--incapable of comprehending it even had it been told--they
only saw in the enterprise a certain freedom from irksome garrison
restrictions and military discipline, increased pay, and the prospect
of early discharge. To all else they were blind.
Brought face to face with hourly dangers, privations, and incessant
toil, they quickly realised their mistake. Everything was forgotten
save the present physical suffering. Sick and dispirited, what was the
question of the Niger’s course to them? A mere name, without power to
fire their imagination or inspire their enthusiasm. How insignificant,
too, appeared the material recompense. Thus with nothing to buoy them
up, nothing to lure them on and keep them from magnifying and dwelling
on their troubles, there could be nothing but apathy--with apathy,
despondency, and finally death. This has been the history, more or
less, of nearly all African expeditions in which ignorant European
men have been employed, tempted to join merely for pay or other
considerations of a personal character. In proportion as the members
of an expedition have been inspired by its ultimate objects, they have
lived to see it through, because in that proportion they have given
less attention to their hardships and sicknesses. The less they have
thought of themselves, and the more their minds have been centred on
their work, the better have been their chances of pulling through.
But though all the whites of the Goree garrison were willing to
accompany Park, not one of the negroes of the place could be induced
to join, and he therefore had to depend on getting such natives as he
wanted on the Gambia. He left Goree on the 6th of April, and reached
Kayi, on the Gambia, a few days later.
The prospect now before him was anything but pleasant. The rainy
season, which he had such good grounds to fear, was rapidly approaching.
There were but two alternatives--either to wait till the next dry
season before starting, or go on and face the worst--the fevers,
the rains, the marshes, the flooded rivers, and all the other
accompaniments of the wet season. These must undoubtedly produce much
sickness, probably many deaths, innumerable exasperating delays, and
other troubles--must increase, in fact, by a hundredfold the perils
and trials of the expedition. On the other hand, to wait would mean
a delay of seven months--seven months of inaction, of intolerable
fretting at the very threshold of the enterprise. The idea was out of
the question. Besides, men, animals, and goods were ready for the road,
and the Government expected them to proceed forthwith. A delay of the
kind had not been foreseen, and had not been provided for in Park’s
instructions. Of the two evils, therefore, he chose the one which was
most in harmony with his own eager spirit, determining to risk all
and start forthwith. Having once made up his mind, he put aside all
fears and apprehensions, and would allow nothing to damp his sanguine
hopes. In this spirit he wrote to Dickson:--“Everything at present
looks as favourable as I could wish, and if all things go well this
day six weeks I expect to drink all your healths in the water of the
Niger. The soldiers are in good health and spirits. They are the most
_dashing_ men I ever saw, and if they preserve their health we may keep
ourselves perfectly secure from any hostile attempt on the part of the
natives. I have little doubt but that I shall be able, with presents
and fair words, to pass through the country to the Niger, and if once
we are afloat the day is won.”
We can easily believe that Park in this letter does not give a faithful
indication of his real position at the moment of writing. He may have
expressed his hopes truly enough, but he carefully avoids showing the
fears which went side by side with them. What exact significance the
term “dashing,” as applied to his soldiers, bears in relation to their
qualities as members of an African expedition, might be a matter of
discussion; but while we have every reason to believe they were the
best the garrison could supply, it must also be remembered that the
African corps was the residuum of the British army at a time when it
was the chief resort of the rascaldom of the country. A residence,
however short, in a West African garrison, could have improved neither
their physique, their morals, nor their discipline, and certainly was
not calculated to fit them for one of the most dangerous and trying
enterprises any man could enter upon, and requiring moral and physical
qualities which only the very few possess.
To his error in taking with him such a large party of Europeans, Park
added an even worse mistake, and one for which less excuse can be
found. Nowhere in his diary do we find a single reference to his having
any native followers to do the common drudgery of the camp and the
road. This was a want of foresight which appears almost incredible in
one who knew what was before him, and the results which followed when
all the men fell sick were disastrous beyond description.
Thus, then, to the extreme perils and hardships which attend an African
expedition at all times, Park added a start at the worst possible time
of the year, and with the worst possible selection of men. What came of
it the following pages will show.
On the 27th of April 1805, all was ready for the march. The initial
point was Kayi, on the river Gambia, a few miles below Pisania, the
place from which Park started on his first expedition. How different
were his preparations for this new attempt. In the former he had left
for the interior attended by a man and a boy--a single donkey carrying
all the goods and stores he required. This time he was provided with
forty-four Europeans, and a large quantity of baggage of all kinds,
transported by as many donkeys as there were men. As already said,
we find no allusion in his letters or journals to his having any
native attendants, though possibly there might have been one or two as
personal servants. Isaaco, a Mandingo priest and merchant, had been
engaged to act as guide, and he it seems was accompanied by several of
his own people.
Under cover of a salute from the _Crescent_ and other vessels gathered
on the river, the caravan filed out of Kayi, and took the road for
the interior--each man, according to his temperament, aspirations,
and education, filled with varied emotions of hope and fear, at once
attracted and repelled by the vague unknown which lay before him.
The troubles and worries attendant on leading a large caravan in Africa
became only too soon apparent. The day was extremely hot. Under the
influence of the overpowering temperature the overloaded donkeys lay
down and refused to proceed, while others, resenting the imposition of
any burden, did what they could to kick themselves free, thus giving an
infinite amount of trouble to their drivers.
The men themselves, fresh from the relaxing life and coarse debaucheries
of a West African garrison, soon began to give in as well as their
donkeys, so that before long the caravan, from being a continuous
line, was broken into detached groups and isolated individuals resting
here, struggling on there. Finally the party got completely divided,
some under Lieutenant Martyn taking one way, and the rest with Park
another. Towards evening they again became united, and reached a
suitable camping ground thoroughly fatigued by their first march. Next
day Pisania was reached, and here a halt became necessary to make some
final preparations and purchase eight more donkeys.
On the 4th of May the journey was resumed. The caravan was divided into
six messes, each with its due proportion of animals marked for easy
identification. Scott and one of Isaaco’s men led the way, Martyn took
charge of the centre body, while Anderson and Park brought up the rear.
Even with the additional beasts of burden there was a repetition of
the troubles which marked the first march--troubles which became each
day more harassing with the failing strength of the donkeys and the
sickness which after a time developed among their drivers. The leaders
were each provided with horses for riding, but in a very short time
they had to take to their feet, that their animals might be utilised
for the transport of loads belonging to broken-down donkeys. A few days
more and this likewise proved insufficient, and both new donkeys and
new drivers had to be hired.
By the fourth day from Pisania two soldiers were attacked by dysentery,
and a further addition to the strength of the caravan was found
necessary. In a week the expedition reached Medina, the capital of
Wuli, without special mishap, but with ever growing worries for its
leader.
The keen eye to business so characteristic of negro races was well
shown by the women of Bambaku, who, on hearing of the coming of the
white men, drew all the water out of the wells in the hope of forcing
the strangers to buy it at a high price in beads and other gauds
dear to the negro heart. In this, however, they were outwitted by
the soldiers, and they had the inexpressible mortification of seeing
twenty-four hours’ labour utterly lost, and the beads as unattainable
as ever.
Meanwhile the report of the passage of a rich caravan conducted by
many Europeans spread like wildfire, gaining in exaggeration with
every mile, and putting all the robber bands and chiefs on the
alert. Preceded by such rumours it became necessary to travel with
great circumspection, and in constant readiness for an attack. No
one was allowed to lay aside his gun. By way of invoking the aid of
a higher power than that of man, Isaaco, on entering the reputedly
dangerous woods of Simbani, laid a black ram across the road, and
after reciting a long prayer, cut its throat as a sacrifice. These
woods were alive with hundreds of antelopes. The Gambia, where it
traversed them, was a hundred yards wide, and showed a perceptible
tide. On the sands were great numbers of alligators, while the pools
teemed with hippos. Viewed from an eminence, the country towards the
west appeared abundantly rich and enchanting, the course of the Gambia
being traceable by its fringing lines of dark green trees winding in
serpentine curves seaward.
At a place called Faraba, while unloading the animals preparatory to
camping, one of the soldiers fell down in an epileptic fit, and expired
in an hour. Here water was only to be got by digging. During the night,
as they were in the wilderness, and liable to attack, double sentries
were posted round the camp, and every man slept with his loaded musket
beside him.
Next morning the Neaulico stream, then nearly dry, was passed, and
on that and a succeeding night they camped in the woods, the second
occasion being at the river Nerico.
On the 18th the caravan entered Jallacotta, the first town of Tenda.
Two days later they met with an insolent reception from the chief of
the independent village of Bady, who refused the caravan-tax sent him,
and threatened war if his exorbitant demands were not satisfied. Park
tried personally to arrange the dispute, but only met with threats. The
soldiers were at once ordered to be in readiness for whatever might
happen, while the chief was told that nothing more would be given
him, and that if he would not allow their peaceable passage through
his district, another would be found. After many angry words Park
prepared to carry his resolution into effect, but before the necessary
preparations were completed, Isaaco’s horse was seized by the Bady
people. On the owner going to demand its restitution, he himself was
laid hold of, deprived of his gun and sword, and then tied to a tree
and flogged. At the same time his boy was put in irons.
It was now dark, but prompt action was necessary. Accordingly Park,
with a detachment of soldiers, entered the village to seize the robbers
of the horse, intending to hold them as hostages for the safe delivery
of the guide. This attempt naturally led to much uproar, ending finally
in blows, and the driving of all the chief’s people out of the village.
Isaaco, however, was nowhere to be found, and Park was somewhat puzzled
to know what to do. It would of course have been easy to burn down the
village, but this would have entailed death and ruin on many innocent
persons, possibly without producing the desired effect. Under the
circumstances it was deemed advisable to wait till daylight before
making an attack. This course proved to be both wise and humane, for
in the morning Isaaco was liberated and his horse restored, so that
eventually all ended amicably.
On the 24th of May much lightning was seen to the south-east--ominous
premonition of the approaching rains. Of the party Park and Isaaco
alone could realise what those electric flashes betokened to the
fortunes of the expedition.
Their way for the next three days lay through the Tenda Wilderness--with
all the hard marches, short rations, and scant supplies of water which
an uninhabited district at the end of the dry season implies, and which
were hardly to be compensated by the exceeding picturesqueness of the
scenery.
At the second camp in the wilderness an extraordinary mishap befell
them. A hive of bees was disturbed by one of the men, with the result
that they swarmed out in angry myriads to attack the intruders. They
set upon man and beast alike, and in a twinkling had routed every
two-legged and four-footed thing in the camp. The men threw down
weapons--everything--and fled in dismay, along with frantic braying
donkeys. The horses similarly broke loose, and galloped to the woods
in a panic. Meanwhile the fires which had been kindled, being thus
left unattended, speedily began to spread to the surrounding dry grass
and bamboos. When Park and his companions had time to look round, they
discovered to their dismay that the whole camp was on fire, and menaced
by absolute and irretrievable ruin.
Forgetful of all else before such an appalling danger to the
expedition, those who had suffered least from the furious bees rushed
back to save what they could. Happily not too late. Before the goods
were reached by the fire, Park and some of the men were ready to
receive the enemy, and eventually succeeded in extinguishing it.
The impending conflagration over, the horses and donkeys were with
difficulty collected from the woods, many of them terribly stung
and swollen about the head. Three animals, besides Isaaco’s horse,
disappeared altogether. One donkey died that evening, another next
morning, and a third had to be abandoned, so vicious and deadly had
been the bees’ onslaught.
Many curious superstitions were noticed by Park _en route_ through Wuli
and Tenda. At one place death was believed to be the portion of any one
who slept under a particular tree; at another, the fish in the river
must not be caught, else the water would dry up entirely; while at a
third, any traveller who would assure himself of a safe journey, must
lift and turn round a particular stone.
At Julifunda the chief made exorbitant demands on the caravan,
threatening to attack them in the woods if these were not complied
with. Park’s resolute attitude, however, combined with an addition to
his first present, brought the quarrel to an amicable conclusion, and
he was permitted to continue his route unmolested.
The expedition had now reached the eastern confines of the Gambia
basin, and writing home to his wife, Park reviewed his situation as
follows:--
“We are half through our journey (_i.e._ to the Niger) without the
smallest accident or unpleasant circumstance. We all of us keep our
health, and are on the most friendly terms with the natives.... By
the 27th of June we expect to have finished all our travels by land,
and when we have once got afloat on the river, we shall conclude
that we are embarking for England. I have never had the smallest
sickness, and Alexander (Mrs. Park’s brother) is quite free from all
his complaints.... We carry our own victuals with us, and live very
well--in fact we have only had a very pleasant journey; and yet this is
what we thought would be the worst part of it.”
In looking back undoubtedly Park had every reason to be satisfied with
his journey so far. His men seemed to have worked heartily enough--at
least we find no indications in his journal of insubordination,
grumbling, or bad conduct. But then he never was in the habit of
putting the least stress on his troubles. It was of more importance to
him to be able to say that he had advanced a day’s march nearer the
Niger than that he had been subjected to a week’s maddening worry. All
vexations and discomforts he treated like the suppressed adventures
of his former narrative, of which he said that as they were only of
importance to himself, he would not weary the reader with a recital of
them.
[Illustration: MUNGO PARK’S ENCAMPMENT.]
It is only too probable that he had much trouble with his men, and
certainly between the lines we gather that he had an immense amount of
work to perform--looking after his caravan on the road, buying food,
and holding innumerable palavers, &c., in camp. Even the nights he
could not call his own, for observations for latitude and longitude
must be taken at all hours--notes written out, and the observations
calculated. He had to be at once overseer, buyer of food, interpreter,
surveyor, doctor, and general inspirer of the whole party. But he was
equal to everything that could be put on his shoulders. Within him he
had a sustaining force such as was known to none of those about him,
and which gave him a giant’s strength and the spirit of the gods.