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and roasting before huge fires in the open air.
Garibaldi, when no battle was raging or danger near--if in the city,
selected some lofty belfry-tower; if in the country, climbed the
loftiest peak; and, with brief minutes of repose under his saddle-tent,
literally lived on horseback, posting his own pickets, making his own
observations, sometimes passing hours in perfect silence, scanning the
most distant and minute objects through his telescope. Ever a man of the
fewest words, a look, a gesture, a brief sentence sufficed to convey his
orders to his officers. When his trumpet signalled departure, the lassos
served to catch the horses grazing in the fields, the men fell into
order and marched, none knowing nor caring whither, save to follow their
chief. Councils of war he never held; he ordered, and was implicitly
obeyed. To his original legion were added some of the finest and bravest
of the Lombard volunteers, who had learned his worth "after the
armistice"; while boys from ten to fourteen, who were his pride and
delight, formed his "band of hope."
To-day for an act of courage a man would be raised from the ranks, and,
sword in hand, command his company; but woe to him if he failed in
shouldering a musket or brandishing a bayonet at need. To onlookers this
legion, composed at first of but one thousand men, seemed a wild, unruly
set; but this was not the case. Drunkenness and insubordination were
unknown among the ranks. Woe to a soldier who wronged a civilian. Three
were shot for petty theft during the brief Roman campaign. Still, while
Garibaldi felt within himself his own superiority to those around,
Mazzini, who also felt it, might as well have proposed an Indian chief
to command the Roman Army as this man, whom, in later years, no soldier
in Europe but would have been proud to call _dux_.
Again, it must not be forgotten that the grounds on which France
explained her interference was the imposition by "foreigners" of a
republic on the Roman people, desirous only to receive the Pope with
open arms; that Austria, Piedmont, and the Ultramontane faction in
England represented the Roman States as handed over to the demagogues,
to the riffraff of European revolutionists. Hence the absolute necessity
that presented itself to the minds of the Triumvirs for filling the
civil and military offices as far as possible with citizens of Rome or
the Roman States. Unfortunately, no capable Roman commander-in-chief
existed. Rosselli was chosen as the least incapable; but throughout,
Garibaldi was regarded as the soul, the genius of the defence.
A very short time had sufficed for Mazzini and the Romans to come to so
perfect an understanding that no exercise of authority, no police force,
was necessary to keep order in the city, as the French, English, and
American residents, and as the respective consuls repeatedly affirmed in
public and in private letters. Oudinot too had warning from his own
consul, from his own friends within the city, of all the preparations,
of the resolute determination of the inhabitants, of the known valor of
many of the combatants in past campaigns; yet to all such remonstrances
he answered with French impertinence, "_Les Italiens ne se battent
pas_," and clearly he had imbued his officers with this belief. At dawn
on April 30th, starting from Castel di Guido, leaving their knapsacks at
Magnianella, the officers in white gloves and sheathed swords advanced
on Rome, taking the road to Porta Cavallaggieri, sending sharpshooters
through the woodlands on the right, the Chasseurs de Vincennes on the
heights to the left. Avezzana, war minister, from the top of the cupola
of San Pietro in Montori, on seeing the first sentinel advance, gave the
signal for the ringing of the tocsin, which brought the entire populace
to the walls, the Roman matrons clustering there to encourage their
husbands, sons, and brothers to the fight.
When the army arrived within a hundred seventy yards from the wall, the
artillerymen from the bastions of San Marto fired their first salute, to
which the Chasseurs de Vincennes responded so well that the Roman
Narducci, Major Pallini, and several of his men fell mortally wounded at
their guns. Finding themselves under a cross-fire from the walls and
from the Vatican, the enemy placed a counter-battery, which did deadly
mischief to the besieged, who lost at once six officers, numerous
soldiers, and had a cannon dismounted to boot. Not the slightest
confusion occurred; women and boys carried off the wounded; fresh
soldiers took the place of the fallen; compelling Oudinot to summon both
his brigades and plant two other pieces of cannon. But he now had to
cope with an enemy whom Frenchmen in Montevideo envied and calumniated;
who to himself and his followers was as yet an unknown quantity.
Garibaldi, who had had but two days to organize his men and take up
position, had at once perceived the importance of the scattered
buildings outside the gates, and occupied them all--villas, woods, and
the walls surrounding them. As the enemy fell back from the first
assault, he flung his men upon them as stones from a sling. At the head
of the first company was Captain Montaldi, who in a short time was
crippled with nineteen bullets, yet still fought on his knees with his
broken sword; and only when the French retreated did his men carry him
dead from the field. As fought his company, so fought all under the eyes
of Garibaldi, who directed the fight from Villa Pamphilli. Then
summoning his reserve, himself heading the students who had never seen
fire but who had given each to the other the consign, "If I attempt to
run away, shoot me through the head," he led them into the open field,
and there gave them their first lesson to the cry of, "To the bayonet!
to the bayonet!"--a lesson oft repeated since, a cry never after raised
in vain. Numbers of his best officers and soldiers fell, but never a
halt or panic made a pause in that eventful charge, until in full open
fight the French were compelled to retreat, leaving Garibaldi absolute
master of the field.
Numbers of the French were killed and wounded, others hid themselves in
the woods and vineyards round; a general retreat ensued, while a portion
continued the fire to protect it. The guns had to be carried off by
hand, as four horses had been killed; and at this retreat up to Castel
di Guido, General Oudinot was forced to assist in person. Summing up his
losses, he found that he had left four hundred dead upon the field; five
hundred thirty wounded, and two hundred sixty prisoners. He had,
besides, the glory of depriving the Roman Republic of two hundred
fourteen killed and wounded, twenty-five officers among them, and of
carrying off one prisoner, Ugo Bassi, the chaplain, who had remained
behind to assist a dying man, his only weapon being the cross, of which
the French were the knightly protectors.
Garibaldi's first thought was naturally to pursue the fugitives to
Castel di Guido, to Pali, and Civita Vecchia; "To drive them," in his
own forcible language, "back to their ships or into the sea." For this
he demanded strong reėnforcements of fresh troops. But the Government of
Rome--believing that it sufficed for Republican France to know that
Republican Rome did not desire the return of the Pope; that it was not
governed by a faction--was resolved unanimously to resist all invasion;
decided against pursuit; sent back the French prisoners to the French
camp; accorded Oudinot's demand for an armistice, and entered into
negotiations with the French plenipotentiary, Ferdinand de Lesseps, for
the evacuation of the Roman territory.
The refusal was never forgotten, never forgiven by Garibaldi, and has
always been a "burning question" between the exclusive partisans of
Mazzini and Garibaldi, in whose eyes to scotch and not to kill the snake
was the essence of unwisdom. It is also maintained by many Garibaldians
that an out-and-out victory could not have been concealed from the
French Assembly as the President and his accomplices did manage to
conceal the affair of April 30th, and that had the people and the army
in France known what a humiliation had been inflicted on their comrades
they would have insisted on the recall of Oudinot, and that thus the
President's own position would have been endangered. On the other hand,
Mazzini's partisans say, granting--what remains unproven--that Garibaldi
could have succeeded in driving every Frenchman back to his ships or
into the sea, there can be no doubt that Louis Napoleon, bent on
restoring the Pope and thus gaining the clergy to his side, would have
sent reėnforcements upon reėnforcements, until Rome should be
vanquished.
The disputants must agree to differ on this point, though all surely
must allow that it was necessary that the small forces at the disposal
of the Republic should be husbanded for the repulse of others besides
France, who claimed to be defenders of the Pope--Austria, the King of
Naples, and even Spain! And, in fact, a Neapolitan army, with the King
at their head, had crossed the Roman frontier, and had taken up
positions at Albano and Frascati, whence Garibaldi was sent to oust
them, the Lombard brigade being added to his legion. This Neapolitan
king-hunt formed one of the characteristic episodes of the Roman
campaign. Garibaldi usually lodged his men in convents, to the terror
and horror of their inmates, sending them thence to reconnoitre the
enemy's positions, and harass them by deeds of daredevil courage.
The King was indeed at Albano, whence from Palestrina Garibaldi marched
to the attack; which would probably have been successful had he not been
suddenly summoned back to Rome, as the movements of the French were by
no means reassuring. However, a fresh truce being proclaimed, General
Rosselli, with Garibaldi under his orders, was sent out again in full
force against the Neapolitans. Not a wise arrangement this, as the
volunteers and the regulars--unless at different posts within the
city--had not yet united in harmonious action. Garibaldi, sent by
Rosselli merely to explore the enemy's movements, finding that they were
retreating from Albano, gave battle to a strong column about two miles
from Velletri without giving time to Rosselli to come up with the main
body.
So the Neapolitans got into Velletri, barricaded themselves there, and,
escaping during the night by the southern gate, recrossed the Neapolitan
frontier, the King foremost in the van. Rosselli and the regulars
complained loudly that this disobedience to orders had prevented them
from making the King of Naples prisoner, the Garibaldians maintaining on
their side that this would have been effected had the regulars thought
less about their rations and come to the rescue when first they heard
the distant shots. Messengers sent by the generals to the Triumvirate
bore the complaints of each. Rosselli was recalled, and Garibaldi left
with full liberty of action. But when the French Government disavowed
their envoy-extraordinary--the patriotic, able, straightforward De
Lesseps--instructing Oudinot to enter Rome by fair means or by foul,
sending enormous reėnforcements, promising to follow up with the entire
French army if necessary, what could they do but recall Garibaldi with
all possible despatch? Was it not a proof of their confidence in him?
Moreover, on Garibaldi's return to Rome, Mazzini made a last effort to
induce him to unburden his mind, at least to himself, by asking him in
writing to tell him frankly what were his wishes. Here is the laconic
answer, characteristic of the writer; frank and unabashed as the round,
clear handwriting of the original, from which we copy:
"ROME, June 2d, 1849.
"MAZZINI: Since you ask me what I wish, I will tell you. Here I cannot
avail anything for the good of the Republic, save in two ways: as
dictator with unlimited plenary powers, or as a simple soldier. Choose!
"Unchangingly yours,
"GIUSEPPE GARIBALDI."
Again, Garibaldi disapproved the conduct of Mazzini and the Triumvirate
because they refused to allow any acts of violence against religion or
the professors of religion. They had abolished the Inquisition, and used
the edifice to house the people driven from their homes by the siege;
had invited and aided monks and nuns to return to their homes and to
lead the life of citizens. But they had not allowed the confessionals to
be burned in the public market-place. A wretch named Zambianchi, who
ill-treated some inoffending priests, was severely punished "for thus
dishonoring the Republic and humanity." Moreover, the Easter ceremonies
were celebrated as usual; the Triumvirate and the Assembly stood among
the people in the church and in the square to receive the blessing from
the outer balcony of St. Peter's.
All this gave umbrage to Garibaldi, but no hypocrisy and much wisdom
inspired these acts. In the first place, the Triumvirate, and especially
Mazzini, the most religious man we have ever known, were well aware
that, while the temporal power of the papacy might be destroyed by fire
and sword, the spiritual power of the Roman Catholic hierarchy could be
extinguished only in the name of a moral law recognized and accepted as
being higher and more authoritative than any other intermediary between
God and the people--they knew that ideas can be vanquished only by
ideas. Again, as the responsible heads of the Roman Republic, the
Triumvirs were wisely careful not to offend the hearts and consciences
of Catholics abroad. Finally, the very fact that, with four armies at
their gates, life, its feasts and fasts, its workdays and holidays,
could go on as usual, was one highly calculated to strengthen the
Romans' faith in and affection for the new Government. No crimes were
committed; the people came to the Triumvirs as children to their
fathers, and--for Italians a very remarkable thing--they not only paid
down current taxes, but they paid up arrears.
From Garibaldi's brief account, it would almost seem that the
Triumvirate and the Assembly surrendered Rome before absolute necessity
constrained them so to do. He does not tell us how, when the French had
actually entered Rome by the breach, he alone of all the civil and
military commanders refused to head the troops to attack the invaders in
possession. He gave his own reasons, very wise ones it seems to us, in
writing many years later, but in his _Memoirs_ he seems to have
forgotten them. The terrible tidings that the seventh bastion and the
curtain uniting it to the sixth had fallen into the hands of the French
spread through the city. The Triumvirate had the tocsins rung. All the
houses were opened at that sound; in the twinkling of an eye all the
inhabitants were in the streets. General Rosselli and the Minister of
War, all the officers of the staff, Mazzini himself, came to the
Janiculum.
"The people in arms massed around us," writes Garibaldi in a short
record of the siege of Rome, "clamored to drive the French off the
walls. General Rosselli and the Minister of War consented. I opposed the
attempt. I feared the confusion into which our troops would have been
thrown by those new combatants and their irregular movements, the panic
that would be likely by night to seize on troops unaccustomed to fire,
and which actually had assailed our bravest ones on the night of the
16th. I insisted on waiting for the daylight."
He here narrates the daring but unsuccessful attempt of the Lombard
students, who flung themselves on the assailants, and who had gained the
terrace of Casa Barberini, and continues: "But at daylight I had counted
the forces with which we had to contend. I realized that another June 3d
would bereave me of half of the youths left to me, whom I loved as my
sons. I had not the least hope of dislodging the French from their
positions, hence only a useless butchery could have ensued. Rome was
doomed, but after a marvellous and a splendid defence. The fall of Rome,
after such a siege, was the triumph of democracy in Europe. The idea of
preserving four or five thousand devoted combatants who knew me, who
would answer at any time to my call, prevailed. I ordered the retreat,
promising that at five in the evening they should again advance; but I
resolved that no assault should be made."
From this and other writings of Garibaldi it is clear that from the
night of June 21st he considered any further attempt to prevent the
French from entering Rome as worse than useless--that hence he refused
to lead the remnants of his army "to butchery" on the breach. How, then,
was it possible for Mazzini to have retarded the catastrophe
indefinitely, and reserved to Rome "the glory of falling last," _i.e._,
after Venice and Hungary?
Mazzini, beside himself with grief that the armed people had not been
allowed to rush on to the bastions and drive the French from the walls,
wrote a reproachful letter to Manara, then chief of Garibaldi's staff,
and this patriot here seems to have kept the peace, as on the 25th we
find a friendly letter from Garibaldi to the Triumvirate in which he
proposes to leave Manara in Rome, and to conduct, himself, a
considerable number of his men out of Rome to take up position between
the French and Civita Vecchia, to harass them in the rear. And on the
same day, evidently after a meeting and the acceptance by Mazzini of
Garibaldi's project, the latter writes:
"June 26th, 8 P.M.
"MAZZINI: I propose, therefore (_dunque_), to go out to-morrow evening.
Send me to-morrow morning the chief who is to assume the command here.
Order the general-in-chief to prepare one hundred fifty mounted
dragoons, who, with the fifty lancers, will make up two hundred horse. I
shall take eight hundred of the legion, and to-morrow shall send them to
change their shirts [_i.e._, doff their 'red' for 'gray']. Answer at
once, and keep the plan a profound secret."
The attempt was not made, probably because it was impossible to march
out secretly from any gate, and Manara writes from Villa Spada, 1 P.M.
on the same day:
"CITIZEN TRIUMVIR: I have received your letter. I am somewhat better and
at my post. I have spoken with Pisacane [chief of Rosselli's staff]; we
are perfectly agreed. Both animated by the same spirit, it is impossible
for petty jealousies to come between us. Be assured of this. I have
begged General Garibaldi to return to San Pancrazio, so as not to
deprive that post at this moment of his legion and his efficacious
power. He promises me that before dawn all will be here. Everything is
quiet.
"MANARA."
This was Manara's last letter to Mazzini; at that same Villa Spada the
yearned-for bullet pierced his heroic heart. Manara died as the
barbarians entered Rome.
And here, to all appearances, is Garibaldi's last letter written in Rome
to Mazzini:
"We have retaken our positions outside San Pancrazio. Let General
Rosselli send me orders; this is now no time for change. Yours,
"G. GARIBALDI."
No time for anything but one last desperate onslaught at the point of
the bayonet, Garibaldi in the foremost ranks with sword unsheathed,
while Medici from Villa Savorelli renewed the wonders of the Vascello.
Twice the assailants were driven back to their second lines; thrice they
returned in overpowering numbers; but, gaining the gate, they were
received with volleys of musketry from the barricades at the ingress to
Villa Spada and Savorelli. There fell the flower of the Lombards; boys
of the "band of hope"; Garibaldi's giant negro, faithful, brave Anghiar;
six hundred added to the three thousand four hundred corpses on which
the soldiers of _La Grande Nation_ reconstructed the throne of the
supreme Pontiff, and guarded it with their bayonets until the sword of
their self-chosen master fell from his trembling hands at Sedan.
(1849) LIVINGSTONE'S AFRICAN DISCOVERIES, David Livinstone and Thomas
Hughes
Although Africa, the second largest grand division of the earth, has
figured in history from ancient times, still it has been rightly named,
and until recently was called with good reason, the "Dark Continent."
But though it has been thus designated, as the least known of the
world's grand divisions, the progress of discovery and settlement is
rapidly dispelling the ignorance and mystery to which the designation
was due. The ancient seats of African civilization were confined to the
northern parts of the continent. The Phoenicians are said to have
circumnavigated Africa as early as the seventh century before Christ. In
the middle of the fifteenth century of the present era the Portuguese
explored much of the coastline, and in 1497 Vasco da Gama doubled the
Cape of Good Hope. But no modern explorations of the interior are known
to have been made until the latter part of the eighteenth century. Since
James Bruce, the Scottish traveller, explored the Nile Valley in 1768,
more than thirty others have distinguished themselves by their
discoveries on the African continent.
None of Livingstone's predecessors equalled the achievements of this
Scottish missionary and explorer, who combined with his zeal in the
cause of religion and humanity a spirit of investigation and adventure
that made him also the servant of science, the "advance-agent" of
discovery, settlement, and civilization. These are at last bringing the
"Dark Continent" into the light of a new day that begins to dawn in the
remotest corners of the earth.
David Livingstone was born near Glasgow, Scotland, March 19, 1813, and
he died in Central Africa April 30, 1873. After he had been admitted to
the medical profession and had studied theology, he decided to join
Robert Moffat, the celebrated missionary, in Africa. Livingstone arrived
at Cape Town in 1840, and soon moved toward the interior. He spent
sixteen years in Africa, engaged in medical and missionary labors and in
making his famous and most useful explorations of the country. His own
account of the beginnings of his work, taken from his _Missionary
Travels_, shows the sincere and simple spirit of the man, and his
natural powers of observation and description are seen in his own story
of his first important discovery, that of Lake Ngami. The narrative of
Thomas Hughes, the well-known English author, whose favorite subjects
were manly men and their characteristic deeds, follows the explorer on
the first of his famous journeys in the Zambesi Basin.
DAVID LIVINGSTONE
I embarked for Africa in 1840, and, after a voyage of three months,
reached Cape Town. Spending but a short time there, I started for the
interior by going round to Algoa Bay, and soon proceeded inland, and
spent the following sixteen years of my life, namely, from 1840 to 1856,
in medical and missionary labors there without cost to the inhabitants.
The general instructions I received from the directors of the London
Missionary Society led me, as soon as I reached Kuruman or Lattakoo,
then their farthest inland station from the Cape, to turn my attention
to the north. Without waiting longer at Kuruman than was necessary to
recruit the oxen, which were pretty well tired by the long journey from
Algoa Bay, I proceeded, in company with another missionary, to the
Bechuana or Bakwain country, and found Sechele, with his tribe, located
at Shokuane. We shortly afterward retraced our steps to Kuruman; but as
the objects in view were by no means to be attained by a temporary
excursion of this sort, I determined to make a fresh start into the
interior as soon as possible. Accordingly, after resting three months at
Kuruman, which is a kind of head station in the country, I returned to a
spot about fifteen miles south of Shokuane, called Lepelole (now
Litubaruba). Here, in order to obtain an accurate knowledge of the
language, I cut myself off from all European society for about six
months, and gained by this ordeal an insight into the habits, ways of
thinking, laws, and language of that section of the Bechuanas called
Bakwains, which has proved of incalculable advantage in my intercourse
with them ever since.
In this second journey to Lepelole--so called from a cavern of that
name--I began preparations for a settlement by making a canal to
irrigate gardens from a stream, then flowing copiously, but now quite
dry. When these preparations were well advanced I went northward to
visit the Bakaa and Bamangwato, and the Makalaka, living between 22° and
23° south latitude. The Bakaa Mountains had been visited before by a
trader, who, with his people, all perished from fever. In going round
the northern part of these basaltic hills, near Letloche, I was only ten
days distant from the lower part of the Zouga, which passed by the same
name as Lake Ngami; and I might then (in 1842) have discovered that
lake, had discovery alone been my object. Most of this journey beyond
Shokuane was performed on foot, in consequence of the draught oxen
having become sick. Some of my companions who had recently joined us,
and did not know that I understood a little of their speech, were
overheard by me discussing my appearance and powers: "He is not strong;
he is quite slim, and only appears stout because he puts himself into
those bags [trousers]; he will soon knock up." This caused my Highland
blood to rise, and made me despise the fatigue of keeping them all at
the top of their speed for days together, till I heard them expressing
proper opinions of my pedestrian powers.
Returning to Kuruman, in order to bring my luggage to our proposed
settlement, I was followed by the news that the tribe of Bakwains, who
had shown themselves so friendly toward me, had been driven from
Lepelole by the Barolongs, so that my prospects for the time of forming
a settlement there were at an end. One of those periodical outbreaks of
war, which seem to have occurred from time immemorial, for the
possession of cattle, had burst forth in the land, and had so changed
the relations of the tribes to each other that I was obliged to set out
anew to look for a suitable locality for a mission-station.
In going north again a comet blazed on our sight, exciting the wonder of
every tribe we visited. That of 1816 had been followed by an irruption
of the Matabele, the most cruel enemies the Bechuanas ever knew, and
this they thought might portend something as bad, or it might only
foreshadow the death of some great chief. On this subject of comets I
knew little more than they did themselves, but I had that confidence in
a kind overruling Providence which makes such a difference between
Christians and both the ancient and modern heathen.
As some of the Bamangwato people had accompanied me to Kuruman, I was
obliged to restore them and their goods to their chief Sekomi. This made
a journey to the residence of that chief again necessary, and, for the
first time, I performed a distance of some hundred miles on oxback.
Returning toward Kuruman, I selected the beautiful valley of Mabotsa
(latitude 25° 14' south, longitude 26° 30') as the site of a
missionary-station, and thither I removed in 1843. Here an occurrence
took place concerning which I have frequently been questioned in
England, and which, but for the importunities of friends, I meant to
have kept in store to tell my children when in my dotage. The Bakatla of
the village Mabotsa were much troubled by lions, which leaped into the
cattle-pens by night and destroyed their cows. They even attacked the
herds in open day. This was so unusual an occurrence that the people
believed they were bewitched--"given," as they said, "into the power of
the lions by a neighboring tribe." They went at once to attack the
animals, but, being rather a cowardly people compared to Bechuanas in
general on such occasions, they returned without killing any.
It is well known that if one of a troop of lions is killed, the others
take the hint and leave that part of the country. So the next time the
herds were attacked I went with the people in order to encourage them to
rid themselves of the annoyance by destroying one of the marauders. We
found the lions on a small hill about a quarter of a mile in length and
covered with trees. A circle of men was formed round it, and they
gradually closed up, ascending pretty near to each other. Being down
below on the plain with a native schoolmaster, named Mebalwe, a most
excellent man, I saw one of the lions sitting on a piece of rock within
the now closed circle of men. Mebalwe fired at him before I could, and
the ball struck the rock on which the animal was sitting. He bit at the
spot struck, as a dog does at a stick or stone thrown at him; then
leaping away, broke through the opening circle and escaped unhurt. The
men were afraid to attack him, perhaps on account of their belief in
witchcraft.
When the circle was re-formed we saw two other lions in it; but we were
afraid to fire lest we should strike the men, and they allowed the
beasts to burst through also. If the Bakatla had acted according to the
custom of the country, they would have speared the lions in their
attempt to get out. Seeing we could not get them to kill one of the
lions, we bent our footsteps toward the village; in going round the end
of the hill, however, I saw one of the beasts sitting on a piece of rock
as before, but this time he had a little bush in front. Being about
thirty yards off, I took a good aim at his body through the bush, and
fired both barrels into it. The men then called out, "He is shot! He is
shot!"
Others cried: "He has been shot by another man too; let us go to him!" I
did not see anyone else shoot at him, but I saw the lion's tail erected
in anger behind the bush, and, turning to the people said, "Stop a
little, till I load again." When in the act of ramming down the bullets
I heard a shout. Starting, and looking half round, I saw the lion just
in the act of springing upon me. I was upon a little height; he caught
my shoulder as he sprang, and we both came to the ground below together.
Growling horribly close to my ear, he shook me as a terrier dog does a
rat. The shock produced a stupor similar to that which seems to be felt
by a mouse after the first shake of the cat. It caused a sort of
dreaminess, in which there was no sense of pain nor feeling of terror,
though quite conscious of all that was happening. It was like what
patients partially under the influence of chloroform describe, who see
all the operation, but feel not the knife.
This singular condition was not the result of any mental process. The
shake annihilated fear, and allowed no sense of horror in looking round
at the beast. This peculiar state is probably produced in all animals
killed by the carnivora; and if so, is a merciful provision by our
benevolent Creator for lessening the pain of death. Turning round to
relieve myself of the weight, as he had one paw on the back of my head,
I saw his eyes directed to Mabalwe, who was trying to shoot him at a
distance of ten or fifteen yards. His gun, a flint one, missed fire in
both barrels; the lion immediately left me, and, attacking Mebalwe, bit
his thigh. Another man--whose life I had saved before, after he had been
tossed by a buffalo--attempted to spear the lion while he was biting
Mebalwe. He left Mebalwe and caught this man by the shoulder, but at
that moment the bullets he had received took effect, and he fell down
dead. The whole was the work of a few moments, and must have been his
paroxysms of dying rage. In order to take out the charm from him, the
Bakatla on the following day made a huge bonfire over the carcass, which
was declared to be that of the largest lion they had ever seen. Besides
crunching the bone into splinters, he left eleven teeth wounds on the
upper part of my arm. It was a long time in healing.
The exact position of Lake Ngami had, for half a century at least, been
correctly pointed out by the natives, who had visited it when rains were
more copious in the desert than in more recent times, and many attempts
had been made to reach it by passing through the desert in the direction
indicated; but it was found impossible, even for Griquas, who, having
some Bushman blood in them, may be supposed more capable of enduring
thirst than Europeans. It was clear, then, that our only chance of
success was by going round, instead of through, the desert.
On July 4, 1849, we went forward on horseback toward what we supposed to
be the lake, and again and again did we seem to see it; but at last we
came to the veritable water of the Zouga, and found it to be a river
running to the northeast. A village of Bakurutse lay on the opposite
bank; these live among Batletli, a tribe having a click in their
language, and who were found by Sebituane to possess large herds of the
great horned cattle. They seem allied to the Hottentot family. Mr.
Oswell, in trying to cross the river, got his horse bogged in the swampy
bank. Two Bakwains and I managed to get over by wading beside a
fishing-weir. The people were friendly, and informed us that this water
came out of the Ngami. This news gladdened all our hearts, for we now
felt certain of reaching our goal. We might, they said, be a moon on the
way; but we had the River Zouga at our feet, and by following it we
should at last reach the broad water.
When we had gone up the bank of this beautiful river about ninety-six
miles from the point where we first struck it, and understood that we
were still a considerable distance from the Ngami, we left all the oxen
and wagons, except Mr. Oswell's, which was the smallest, and one team,
at Ngabisane, in the hope that they would be recruited for the home
journey, while we made a push for the lake.
Twelve days after our departure from the wagons at Ngabisane we came to
the northeast end of Lake Ngami; and on August 1, 1849, we went down
together to the broad part, and for the first time this fine-looking
sheet of water was beheld by Europeans. The direction of the lake seemed
to be north-northeast and south-southwest by compass. The southern
portion is said to bend round to the west, and to receive the Teoughe
from the north at its northwest extremity. We could detect no horizon
where we stood looking south-south west, nor could we form any idea of
the extent of the lake, except from the reports of the inhabitants of
the district; and, as they professed to go round it in three days,
allowing twenty-five miles a day would make it seventy-five, or less
than seventy geographical miles in circumference.
Other guesses have been made since as to its circumference, ranging
between seventy and one hundred miles. It is shallow, for I subsequently
saw a native punting his canoe over seven or eight miles of the
northeast end; it can never therefore be of much value as a commercial
highway. In fact, during the months preceding the annual supply of water
from the north, the lake is so shallow that it is with difficulty cattle
can approach the water through the boggy, reedy banks. These are low on
all sides, but on the west there is a space devoid of trees, showing
that the waters have retired thence at no very ancient date. This is
another of the proofs of desiccation met with so abundantly throughout
the whole country. A number of dead trees lie on this space, some of
them imbedded in the mud right in the water. We were informed by the
Bayeiye, who live on the lake, that when the annual inundation begins,
not only trees of great size, but antelopes, as the springbuck and
_tsessebe_ (_Acronotus lunata_,) are swept down by its rushing waters;
the trees are gradually driven by the winds to the opposite side, and
become imbedded in mud.
When the lake is full, the water is perfectly fresh, but brackish when
low; and that coming down the Tamunak'le we found to be so clear, cold,
and soft, the higher we ascended, that the idea of melting snow was
suggested to our minds. We found this region, with regard to that from
which we had come, to be clearly a hollow, the lowest point being Lake
Kumadau; the point of the ebullition of water as shown by one of
Newman's barometric thermometers, was only between 207-1/2° and 206°,
giving an elevation of not much more than two thousand feet above the
level of the sea. We had descended above two thousand feet in coming to
it from Kolobeng. It is the southern and lowest part of the great river
system beyond, in which large tracts of country are inundated annually
by tropical rains. A little of that water, which in the countries
farther north produces inundation, comes as far south as 20° 20', the
latitude of the upper end of the lake, and instead of flooding the
country, falls into the lake as into a reservoir. It begins to flow down
the Embarrah, which divides into the Rivers Tzo and Teoughe. The Tzo
divides into the Tamunak'le and Mababe; the Tamunak'le discharges itself
into the Zouga, and the Teoughe into the lake. The flow begins in either
March or April, and the descending waters find the channels of all these
rivers dried out, except in certain pools in their beds, which have long
dry spaces between them. The lake itself is very low. The Zouga is but a
prolongation of the Tamunak'le, and an arm of the lake reaches up to the
point where the one ends and the other begins. The last is narrow and
shallow, while the Zouga is broad and deep. The narrow arm of the lake,
which on the map looks like a continuation of the Zouga, has never been
observed to flow either way.
THOMAS HUGHES
Before the middle of 1852 Livingstone was ready to start on the journey
which resulted in the opening of routes from Central Africa to the West
and East coasts; but the way was still beset with difficulties. The
missionary societies were regarded as "unpatriotic" by the authorities
at the Cape; and he, as the most outspoken of critics, and the most
uncompromising denouncer of the slave-trade and champion of the natives,
came in for a double share of their suspicion. On the other hand, his
brethren gave him only a half-hearted support and doubted his orthodoxy.
He found great difficulty even in procuring ammunition. A country
postmaster whom he had accused of overcharging, threatened an action at
the last moment, which he compromised rather than be detained. As it
was, he had anticipated his meagre salary by more than a year, and had
to be content with very inferior oxen, and a wagon which required
constant mending throughout the journey. On June 8, 1852, he at last got
away, taking with him a Mr. Fleming, the agent of his friend Mr.
Rutherford, a Cape merchant, in the hope of by degrees substituting
legitimate traffic for that in slaves.
The heavy Cape wagon with its ten poor oxen dragged heavily onward.
Livingstone had so loaded himself with parcels for stations up-country,
and his wagon and team were so inferior, that he did not reach Kuruman
until September. Here he was detained by the breaking of a wheel.
The journey to Linyanti by the new route was very trying. Part of the
country was flooded, and they were wading all day, and forcing their way
through reeds with sharp edges "with hands all raw and bloody." "On
emerging from the swamps," says Livingstone, "when walking before the
wagon in the morning twilight, I observed a lioness about fifty yards
from me in the squatting way they walk when going to spring. She was
followed by a very large lion, but seeing the wagon she turned back."
It required all his tact to prevent guides and servants from deserting.
Everyone but himself was attacked by fever. "I would like," says his
journal, "to devote a portion of my life to the discovery of a remedy
for that terrible disease, the African fever. I would go into the parts
where it prevails most and try to discover if the natives have a remedy
for it. I must make many inquiries of the river people in this quarter."
Again in another key: "Am I on my way to die in Sebituane's country?
Have I seen the last of my wife and children, leaving this fair world
and knowing so little of it?"
February 4, 1853: "I am spared in health while all the company have been
attacked by fever. If God has accepted my service, my life is charmed
till my work is done. When that is finished, some simple thing will give
me my quietus. Death is a glorious event to one going to Jesus."
Their progress was tedious beyond all precedent. "We dug out several
wells, and each time had to wait a day or two till enough water flowed
in for our cattle to quench their thirst."
At last, however, at the end of May, he reached the Chobe River and was
again among his favorite Makololo. "He has dropped from the clouds," the
first of them said. They took the wagon to pieces and carried it across
on canoes lashed together, while they themselves swam and dived among
the oxen "more like alligators than men." Sekeletu, son of Sebituane,
was now chief, his elder sister Mamochishane having resigned in disgust
at the number of husbands she had to maintain as chieftainess. Poor
Mamochishane! After a short reign of a few months she had risen in the
assembly and "addressed her brother with a womanly gush of tears. 'I
have been a chief only because my father wished it. I would always have
preferred to be married and have a family like other women. You,
Sekeletu, must be chief, and build up our father's house.'"
On November 11, 1853, he left Linyanti, and arrived at Loanda on May 31,
1854. The first stages of the journey were to be by water, and Sekeletu
accompanied him to the Chobe, where he was to embark. They crossed five
branches before reaching the main stream, a wide and deep river full of
hippopotami. "The chief lent me his own canoe, and as it was broader
than usual I could turn about in it with ease. I had three muskets for
my people, and a rifle and double-barrelled shotgun for myself. My
ammunition was distributed through the luggage, that we might not be
left without a supply. Our chief hopes for food were in our guns. I
carried twenty pounds of beads worth forty shillings, a few biscuits, a
few pounds of tea and sugar, and about twenty pounds of coffee. One
small tin canister, about fifteen inches square, was filled with spare
shirts, trousers, and shoes, to be used when we reached civilized life,
another of the same size was stored with medicines, a third with books,
and a fourth with a magic lantern, which we found of much service. The
sextant and other instruments were carried apart. A bag contained the
clothes we expected to wear out in the journey, which, with a small tent
just sufficient to sleep in, a sheepskin mantle as a blanket, and a
horse rug as a bed, completed my equipment. An array of baggage would
have probably excited the cupidity of the tribes through whose country
we wished to pass."
The voyage up the Chobe, and the Zambesi after the junction of those
rivers, was prosperous but slow, in consequence of stoppages opposite
villages. "My man Pitsane knew of the generous orders of Sekeletu, and
was not disposed to allow them remain a dead letter." In the rapids,
"the men leaped into the water without the least hesitation to save the
canoes from being dashed against the obstructions or caught in eddies.
They must never be allowed to come broadside to the stream, for being
flat-bottomed they would at once be capsized and everything in them
lost." When free from fever he was delighted to note the numbers of
birds, several of them unknown, which swarmed on the river and its
banks, all carefully noted in his journal. One extract must suffice
here: "Whenever we step on shore a species of plover, a plaguy sort of
public-spirited individual, follows, flying overhead, and is most
persevering in its attempts to give warning to all animals to flee from
the approaching danger."
But he was already weak with fever; was seized with giddiness whenever
he looked up quickly, and, if he could not catch hold of some support,
fell heavily--a bad omen for his chance of passing through the unknown
country ahead--but his purpose never faltered for a moment. On January
1, 1854, he was still on the river, but getting beyond Sekeletu's
territory and allies, to a region of dense forest, in the open glades of
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