_THE LAST OF PARK._
By the middle of November the last preparations for the great voyage
on the Niger were completed. Isaaco had been paid off, and one Amadi
Fatuma, a native of Karson, and a great traveller, hired in his place
to guide the party to Kashna, which Park still believed to be on the
river. To Isaaco, Park’s precious journal was entrusted for conveyance
home.
On the 17th November, dating from “On board of H.M. schooner _Joliba_,
at anchor off Sansandig,” Park wrote to Lord Camden. After some remarks
on his situation, he continues--
“From this account I am afraid that your Lordship will be apt to
consider matters as in a very hopeless state, but I assure you I am
far from desponding. With the assistance of one of the soldiers I have
changed a large canoe into a tolerably good schooner, on board of which
I shall set sail to the east, with the fixed resolution to discover the
termination of the Niger or perish in the attempt. I have heard nothing
I can depend on respecting the remote course of this mighty stream, but
I am more and more inclined to think that it can end nowhere but in the
sea.
“My dear friend Mr. Anderson, and likewise Mr. Scott, are both dead;
but though all the Europeans who are with me should die, and though
I were myself half dead, I would still persevere, and if I could not
succeed in the object of my journey, I would at least die on the Niger.
If I succeed in the object of my journey, I expect to be in England in
the month of May or June, by way of the West Indies.”
On the 19th he wrote to his wife--
“ ... I am afraid that, impressed with a woman’s fears and the
anxieties of a wife, you may be led to consider my situation as a
great deal worse than it is.... The rains are completely over, and the
healthy season has commenced, so that there is no danger of sickness,
and I have still a sufficient force to protect me from any insult in
sailing down the river to the sea.
“We have already embarked all our things, and shall sail the moment I
have finished this letter. I do not intend to stop nor land anywhere
till we reach the coast, which I suppose will be some time in the
end of January.... I think it not unlikely but that I shall be in
England before you receive this.... We this morning have done with all
intercourse with the natives. The sails are now being hoisted for our
departure to the coast.”
These letters are full of brave words, yet they do not express one
iota more than what Park was capable of. They breathe his remarkable
personality in every line. They show the heroic spirit that does not
know the word impossible, that does not know when it is beaten--that
having once set itself a task, is incapable of turning back. They speak
eloquently of a stubborn resolution which only death itself can render
powerless, and such a resolution as the world has rarely seen.
It is almost impossible to realise the position of our hero at the
moment when he prepared to embark on one of the most perilous and
uncertain voyages history records. In some aspects it deserves to
rank with the voyage of Columbus across the Atlantic. The bourne was
equally uncertain, the distance not so very much less, the perils
quite as great. It might even be said that compared with that of
Park, the enterprise of Columbus was most hopeful. Columbus, too, had
always the option of turning back. For Park there was no such door of
escape. Success or death was his only choice, and even success might
mean captivity or worse, the best geographer of the time holding that
the Niger termination was not in the ocean, but in the heart of the
continent. If he proved right, how many were the chances against Park’s
ever finding his way out again.
It is to be remembered, in addition, that this voyage of from 2000
to 3000 miles--supposing the Niger to be the same as the Congo--was
not embarked upon in the heyday of the party’s hopes, but after an
unparalleled series of misfortunes and a frightful tale of death.
For sole means of carrying out this wonderful enterprise Park had
nothing better than an unwieldy half-rotten canoe, and a crew
consisting of an officer wholly unsuited to the work, three European
privates, of whom one was mad and the others sick, and lastly, Amadi
Fatuma, the guide, and three slaves--nine men in all.
With this “sufficient force to protect me from insult,” the canoe had
to be navigated without a pilot for hundreds of miles along a river
studded at parts with dangerous rocks, and everywhere infested by
equally dangerous hippos--a river whose banks were occupied for much
of the way by fanatical Moors and Tuaregs, while beyond were unknown
tribes of cannibal savages and other bloodthirsty natives.
But nothing could daunt the intrepid explorer--nothing make him waver
in his “fixed resolution to discover the termination of the Niger or
die in the attempt.”
Thus spiritually armed and inspired, and thus materially supported,
with the writing of his last words to the world, the sails of the
_Joliba_ were unfurled to the wind, and like Ulysses of old, Park
pushed off from land bent on some work of noble note. And though made
“weak by time and fate,” still “strong in will, to strive, to seek, to
find, and not to yield” till death itself should close his toilsome
struggle, or Ocean once more happily receive him on its broad bosom,
and bear him to the “Happy Isles” and the blessed guerdon of his
accomplished work.
The die was cast, and down the great river he glided towards the
untravelled countries of the east and south--towards the heart of
savage Africa, and the deep darkness of the Unexplored.
His journals and letters in the hands of the faithful Isaaco safely
reached the coast and afterwards Europe, thrilling all true-born
men and women with the unparalleled tale of travel they so simply
yet graphically unfolded. All waited with eager impatience for the
reappearance of the hero. Speculation was rife as to his point of exit,
or whether he would ever be heard of more.
May of 1806 passed into June without bringing further news. The year
1806 gave place to 1807, and then fears as to the ultimate fate of the
expedition began to find expression. To strengthen these, rumours from
West Africa reached home that native traders from the interior reported
a disastrous close to the enterprise. With each succeeding month these
reports grew in number and consistency, till Government could no longer
ignore them, and determined to send a reliable native to the Niger to
make special inquiries.
For this task Isaaco was engaged, and in January 1810 he left Senegal.
In October of the same year he reached Sansandig, where he was so
fortunate as to find Amadi Fatuma, the guide Park had taken with him
down the Niger.
On seeing Isaaco, Amadi broke into tears and lamentations, crying out,
“They are all dead, they are lost for ever!” His story was soon told.
The substance of it was as follows:--
On leaving Sansandig, Park, in pursuance of his plan not to hold
communication with the people on land, so as if possible to avoid
attack or detention, pursued his course down the middle of the stream.
At Silla another slave was added to the party, and at Jenné a present
was sent to the head man, though no landing was made at either place.
On reaching the point where the Niger divides to form the island of
Jinbala, they were attacked by three canoes armed with pikes and
bows and arrows, which were repulsed by force on the failure of more
peaceful methods.
At a place called Rakhara a similar attempt was made to stop the
progress of the _Joliba_, and a third near Timbuktu. On each occasion
the natives were driven back with the loss of many killed and wounded.
On passing Timbuktu, the country of Gurma and the lands of the Tuaregs
lay before them. In this part of the river a determined attempt to
dispute their passage was made by seven canoes; but the natives having
no guns, were easily repulsed by the crew of the _Joliba_, which,
though reduced to eight in number, were well supplied with muskets,
constantly kept ready for action. Here another soldier died. Further on
the _Joliba_ was attacked by sixty canoes, but without serious result.
If the guide is to be trusted, Martyn seems to have enjoyed this part
of the work to the full--so much so, indeed, that once, after a good
deal of bloodshed, Amadi seized the Lieutenant’s hand and begged him to
desist, there being no further necessity for fighting. So enraged was
Martyn, that the humane interference would have cost Amadi his life,
but for Park’s intervention.
Some distance beyond the scene of this battle the _Joliba_ struck
on the rocks, and during the confusion which ensued a hippo nearly
completed their discomfiture by rushing at the boat, which it would
have destroyed or upset, but for the timely firing of the men’s guns.
With great difficulty the canoe was got off without having suffered any
material damage.
The party had now reached the centre of the ancient empire of Songhay,
and everything was going as well as could be expected. They had still
sufficient provisions to make landing unnecessary.
At a place called Kaffo three more canoes had to be driven back, and
further on the guide, on landing to buy some milk, was seized by the
natives. Park, seeing this, promptly laid hold of two canoes which had
come alongside, and let their owners understand that unless his man
was released he would kill them all and carry off their canoes. This
threat had the required result, the guide being released, and amicable
relations resumed.
Beyond the point where this incident happened, the river became
difficult to navigate. It was broken up by islands and rocks into three
narrow passages. The place is probably that marked in Barth’s map,
some seventy miles south of Gargo, the former capital of Songhay. The
first passage tried was found to be guarded by armed men, “which,”
says the guide, “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.” On trying a second
channel the party was not molested.
A few days later they reached the Haussa country, probably near
the Gulbi-n-Gindi, which comes from Kebbi, the western of the then
independent states. Here, according to Amadi, his agreement ended,
though, according to Park’s letters, he was to have gone as far as
Kashna. Before separating from his guide Park wrote down the names of
the necessaries of life and some useful phrases in the dialects of the
remaining countries through which he had to pass. This task occupied
two days, during which the _Joliba_ remained at anchor, but without
landing any of her crew.
Though thus losing his interpreter, and adding in consequence to the
dangers of the voyage by having no one through whom to communicate when
necessary with the natives, Park had every reason to be hopeful. He had
now sailed over a thousand miles down the river without any serious
mishap, though the way had lain through the country of the Moors, and
their equally fanatical co-religionists the Tuaregs. Ahead lay the land
of the negroes, among whom, all things considered, he had ever found a
kindly welcome and hospitable treatment. Especially encouraging was the
fact that the Niger was flowing due south--consequently towards the
Atlantic, and not to the inland swamps of Rennell’s theories.
There was therefore no great reason to consider the want of an
interpreter as an important drawback, and consequently no attempt
was made to induce Amadi to go further than Yauri, the next district
to the south of the Gulbi-n-Gindi. Here Amadi went ashore, and after
exchanging presents on the part of Park with the king, Al Hadj, or the
“Pilgrim,” bought more provisions, to enable the white men to continue
their way without landing. This, though probably a necessary business,
was destined to prove fatal to the prospects of the expedition. The
cupidity of the natives was aroused by the wealth which the strangers
were believed to have with them--a sample of which was afforded by the
presents sent to the king.
Immediately to the south of Yauri, the low, flat valley of the Niger
contracts to a glen or gorge, where the subtending sandstone hills pass
into abrupt and precipitous masses of hard metamorphic rock, and break
up the channel of the river by dangerous rocks and islands occupied
by villages. Thus narrowed and divided the waters of the river sweep
onward in three branches--one of them easy to navigate; the others
difficult at flood time, and almost impossible when the river is low.
During the delay at Yauri the news of the strangers’ coming either
spread in the ordinary way to Bussa, or was conveyed by special
messenger, and preparations were made to stop them.
[Map: THE BUSSA RAPIDS.]
Unconscious of the dangers ahead, Park left Yauri and continued his
way south. Having no one acquainted with the river in his canoe, he
unluckily struck upon the worst of the three channels, and rushed to
his doom. Once in the sweep of the current to turn back was impossible.
To land was equally out of the question even had it been possible, for
to right and left the rocks and islands were crowded with natives in
war array bent on stopping the intruders. The energy and attention of
the handful of travellers was divided between the double danger--the
rapids and rocks around and ahead of them, and the weapons hurtling
through the air. Two of the slaves were speedily killed; for the rest
there was no other course but to keep onward, alternately firing and
paddling, ever hoping to make good their escape. A little more and they
would be out of danger. Before they were aware, however, the _Joliba_
rushed into the grip of a hidden cleft rock and there stuck fast. With
desperate energy each man seized his paddle, and mindful only of the
supreme peril of the moment, plied it with the strength of one who
works for dear life. In vain--the _Joliba_ would not yield to their
frantic efforts. With delighted yells the natives gathered on the
neighbouring rocks, and sure of their prey, plied their weapons with
renewed zeal.
The last resource was to lighten the canoe, and everything of weight
was accordingly thrown into the river. That too proved useless, and
now Park and his little band of followers knew they had reached the
culminating point of their misfortunes. For a time they fought on as if
determined to sell their lives dearly, but at length desisted, struck
with the futility of their efforts. Their goods were gone--their number
was reduced to four. To continue fighting was only further to enrage
their enemies. What were the feelings of the hero at this supreme
moment of disaster--what his last determination, who shall say?
Amadi tells us that in the end Park took hold of one white man and
Martyn of the other, and thus united they all four jumped into the
river, whether to die together, or with the intention of mutually
assisting each other, will never be known. The latter supposition is
the more probable, for with Park while there was life there was hope.
In any case the result was the same. The Niger claimed him as its own,
and since to unlock its secrets was not to be his, what more fitting
for him than death beneath its rushing waters.
Of the party only one slave remained alive. Of the contents of the
canoe the sole articles left were a sword-belt, which the King of Yauri
utilised as a horse-girth, and some books, one of which has reached
England.
The guide did not escape scathless any more than the other members
of the expedition. Scarcely had he taken leave of Park, when he was
seized and loaded with chains, remaining in imprisonment for some
months. His first business on obtaining his freedom was to find out
the sole survivor of the expedition, and learn from him the manner of
its leader’s death. Having satisfied himself as far as might be on
this point, he returned home to Sansandig, from which rumour gradually
carried his sad tale to the coast, and resulted in the mission of
Isaaco.
To obtain the sword-belt, and otherwise substantiate Amadi’s story,
Isaaco despatched a Fulah to Yauri. The Fulah succeeded in stealing
the belt, and gathered confirmation of the tale of disaster, whereupon
Isaaco set out for the coast with the melancholy tidings and solitary
relic.
With the many the tragic story obtained immediate credence. A few there
were, however, who refused to give up hope, though that hope was but
the offspring of their love and ardent wishes. Among these was Mrs.
Park, who to her dying day, thirty years after the above events, clung
to the belief that her husband was yet alive, and would some day be
found.
The Government, not unmindful of their duty to the family of such a
heroic servant, granted Mrs. Park a small pension, which she continued
to receive till her death in 1840.
Her children as they grew up speedily showed that they inherited much
of the spirit of their father. Mungo, the eldest, obtained a commission
in the Indian army. But he had not his father’s constitution, and he
died ten days after landing at Bombay. His younger brother, Archibald,
was more fortunate in the same field of honour, and rose to the rank of
Colonel.
But it was the second son, Thomas, who seemed most largely to have
inherited the adventurous nature of his father. He, like his mother,
never lost belief in the idea that his father was somewhere a prisoner
in the heart of Africa. Thither, in the ardent, impulsive days of
youth, his thoughts perpetually turned, till the desire of ascertaining
the truth possessed him as strongly as the solution of the mystery of
the Niger had formerly possessed Park himself. But by this time the
Parks were alone in their belief, and unsupported, the impetuous young
fellow was next to helpless. In secret, however, he continued to scheme
and plan all the more, ever with the one object in view.
At length in the year 1827 he embarked on board a vessel bound for the
South Seas. In some way or other he contrived to leave the ship and
reach the Gold Coast, determined now to carry out by himself his long
cherished desire to discover his father’s fate.
The following letter, dated Accra, 1827, tells all we know of his
plans:--
“MY DEAREST MOTHER,--I was in hopes I should have been back before
you were aware of my absence. I went off--now that the murder
is out--entirely from fear of hurting your feelings. I did not
write to you lest you should not be satisfied. Depend upon it,
my dearest mother, I shall return safe. You know what a curious
fellow I am, therefore don’t be afraid for me. Besides, it was my
duty--my filial duty--to go, and I shall yet raise the name of
Park. You ought rather to rejoice that I took it into my head.
Give my kindest love to my sister. Tell her I think the boat would
do very well for the Niger. I shall be back in three years at the
most--perhaps in one. God bless you, my dearest mother, and believe
me to be, your most affectionate and dutiful son,
THOMAS PARK.”
Thereafter an ominous silence followed. Like the elder Park,
the hot-headed young fellow, whom we cannot help loving for his
folly--knowing as we do its mainspring--disappeared from sight in the
Dark Continent, whence only vague rumours ever came back, sorrow-laden,
telling of a speedy and bloody close to his wild yet heroic mission.
And so fatally ended the connection of the Park family with the
exploration of the River Niger, and thus closed the first great chapter
in the history of the opening up of Inner Africa.