“_Kuka, July 14_, 1823.
“Since I wrote you last I have got very little new to communicate. But
you will be glad to hear that my health is now much improved. I have
been travelling about during the last six weeks, for the purpose of
visiting the different places of importance; and I have reason to be
well pleased with the treatment I have everywhere experienced; all have
been civil—kind. There is indeed very little left for me to desire,
every thing having so far exceeded my expectations. The sheikh Canmi,
governor of Bornou, has been like a father, granting every indulgence,
and showing every kindness. At the end of the rains I hope to go into
Soudan, to make discoveries there, the people are good, and the country
very interesting. Our houses are not waterproof like yours. They are
little round places of mud with straw roofs. There are neither stones
nor lime in the whole kingdom, so that large substantial houses cannot
be built for want of materials. The streets are frequently knee-deep
with water from the rain of a few hours. The thunder is awful, but the
lightning seldom does any damage. There are very few poisonous animals,
and noxious insects are very rare. I think, if every thing turns out as
I expect, I shall be home in little more than a year. I have nothing to
dread, and have never had a wakeful night from fear.”
It would be an easy matter for a severe critic to point out many
incorrect expressions in these letters, as it is obvious they were
all written off-hand amid the hurry and anxiety of the avocations
connected with the mission, and certainly never meant to meet the
public eye. But, we think, they cannot be perused without producing
a deep impression that their author was devotedly attentive to
the performance of his public duties—that he possessed a sanguine
temperament and a well-informed mind—and that his heart was actuated
by a sense of the obligations of friendship, and the kindly feeling
of fraternal affection. With regard to this latter sentiment, indeed,
it is quite clear, from that portion of the letters to his sister
which—as relating entirely to private and confidential matters—has
been suppressed, that his anxiety for the welfare of his relatives was
never absent from his thoughts, and that the desire to afford them
protection, and to minister to their comfort, was the constant and
powerful stimulant to his exertions. The substance of the second of his
letters to professor Jameson was printed in the volume published by
Denham and Clapperton, giving an account of the result of the mission
in which they, along with Dr. Oudney, had been sent. The first letter
to the professor, however, contains original matter, as well as the
most of those to his sister; and had he lived to return home, and
reduce his _memoranda_ to a state fit for publication, we have reason
to believe that he would have greatly enlarged our knowledge of Africa.
The Doctor and Clapperton set out towards Soudan about the middle of
December 1823, while Major Denham went on an exploratory excursion in
another direction; and while engaged in its prosecution, he received
a short note from Dr. Oudney. It was brought from Katagum. “It had
no date, and was indeed his last effort. The acknowledgment of being
weak and helpless,” says Major D., “assured me that he was really so;
for, during the whole of his long sufferings, a complaint had scarcely
ever escaped his lips. On the Shiekh’s saying to him, when he first
expressed his wish to accompany the _Kafila_, ‘surely your health is
not such as to risk such a journey?’ he merely replied, ‘why, if I stay
here I shall die, and probably sooner, as travelling always improves
my health.’ This letter, though short, expresses great satisfaction
at the treatment he had met with on his journey, and also from the
inhabitants of the country.”[2] Captain Clapperton’s letter to Mr.
Consul Warrington, dated Kano, 2d February, 1824, contains the last
scene of this mournful history.
“The melancholy task has fallen to me to report to you the lamented
death of my friend Dr. Walter Oudney. We left Kuka on the 14th day of
December 1823, and by easy journies arrived at Bedukarfea, the westmost
town in the kingdom of Bornou; during this part of the journey, he was
recovering strength very fast, but on leaving Bedukarfea and entering
the Beder territory on the night of the 26th, and morning of the 27th,
we had such an intense cold that the water was frozen in the dishes,
and the water-skins were as hard as beards. Here the poor Doctor got a
severe cold, and continued to grow weaker every day. At this time he
told me that when he left Kuka, he expected his disorder would allow
him to perform all his country expected of him, but that now his death
was near, and required me to deliver his papers to Lord Bathurst, and
to say he wished Mr. Barrow might have the arrangement of them, if
agreeable to his Lordship. On the 2d of January, 1824, we arrived at
the city of Katagum, where we remained till the 10th, partly to see
if the Doctor, by staying a few days, would gain a little strength to
enable him to pursue his journey. On leaving Katagum he rode a camel
as he was too weak to ride his horse. We proceeded on our road for
ten miles that day, and then halted; and, on the following day five
miles further, to a town called Murmur. On the morning of the 12th, he
ordered the camels to be loaded at day-light, drank a cup of coffee,
and I assisted him to dress. When the camels were loaded, with the
assistance of his servant and I, he came out of the tent. I saw then
that the hand of death was upon him, and that he had not an hour to
live. I begged him to return to his tent and lay himself down, which he
did, and I sat down beside him; he expired in about half an hour after.
“I sent immediately to the governor of the town to acquaint him with
what had happened, and to desire he would point out a spot where I
might bury my friend, and also to have people to watch the body and
dig the grave, which was speedily complied with. I had dead cloths
made from some turbans that were intended as presents, and as we
travelled as Englishmen and servants of his Majesty, I considered it
my most indispensable duty to read the service of the dead over the
grave, according to the rites of the Church of England, which happily
was not objected to, but, on the contrary, I was paid a good deal of
respect for so doing. I then bought two sheep, which were killed and
given to the poor, and I had a clay wall built round the grave, to
preserve it from beasts of prey.” It is added to this account (inserted
in the “Narrative,” &c.) of the death and funeral, substantially the
same as that given above, that “Thus died Walter Oudney, M.D., a man
of unassuming deportment, pleasing manners, stedfast perseverance,
and undaunted enterprise; while his mind was fraught at once with
knowledge, virtue, and religion,”—a statement which accurately
describes his character. In personal appearance, we may remark, that
in stature he was of the middle size, slightly made, with a pale
complexion, and grave and benevolent expression of countenance.
It will naturally be asked—since Dr. Oudney was of a temper of mind
so active and enterprising, as well as possessed of so much physical
science—why he has contributed so little to the elucidation of the
central parts of Africa which he visited? We are sorry we are unable
to solve this problem, having found it impossible to obtain any
farther information on the subject than is contained in the volume
of Travels, published (1826) in the name of the three persons who
formed the mission, namely, Denham, Clapperton, and Oudney. Denham,
in speaking of the materials of the volume in question says, that the
only papers of Oudney’s placed in his hands, were “an itinerary from
Mourzuk to Bornou,” and “An excursion to the westward of Mourzuk.”
The latter is printed at the end of the “Introductory Chapter;” but
of the former, only a few mineralogical notes are given. There is
not a doubt, however, but that a vast mass of materials illustrative
of the districts visited, were collected by Dr. Oudney, although it
is now impossible to say what has become of them. Mr. Barrow asserts
that he was labouring under a pectoral complaint when he left England;
and that the disorder was increased by this journey to Ghaat, and he
would thereby insinuate that, during the greater part of the time
he lived in Africa, he was rendered unfit, by bodily weakness, for
keeping regular journals. Now, none of his most intimate friends
had the least suspicion that he was troubled with any disease of
the breast. His chest, instead of being contracted, was broad and
ample; and, in ascending the hills of his native land, and the
equally difficult common stairs of Edinburgh, the lightness of his
figure, and the activity of his habits, always enabled him to outrun
the longest-winded, and the supplest-jointed of his companions; and
certainly nothing mentioned in the letters which we have published
would lead to the inference that he did not enjoy the most perfect
health till after he had been a considerable length of time in Bornou.
It is likewise quite clear that he was not of a character to neglect
any duty which the situation in which he was placed imposed upon him;
and so we repeat, that a great deal of valuable information must
have been collected by him, although it is to be feared it is now
irrecoverably lost. It is to be regretted, moreover, that his premature
death rendered the term of his service too short to warrant government
to make some provision for his sisters, now orphans, and one of them in
a bad state of health.
* * * * *
MEMOIR
OF
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
THE
AFRICAN TRAVELLER.
* * * * *
MEMOIR
OF
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
THE
AFRICAN TRAVELLER.
* * * * *