PARK, MUNGO, a distinguished,
but unfortunate traveller, was born at Fowlshiels, in Selkirkshire,
September 10, 1771. His father, who rented the farm of Fowlshiels from the
duke of Buccleuch, had thirteen children, of whom Mungo was the seventh.
Notwithstanding his limited resources, he kept a private tutor in his house,
for the education of his family; and of the advantage of this arrangement,
the subject of the present memoir largely partook. He was afterwards sent to
the grammar school of Selkirk, where he made astonishing progress, not so
much by his ready talents, as by his remarkable perseverance and
application; and, despite of many disadvantages, uniformly kept the place of
dux, or head of his class. This early devotion to study and aptitude
of acquirement, together with his thoughtful and reserved disposition,
seemed to his father to point out the church as his future profession, but
upon his son’s expressing a decided preference for that of medicine, he at
once agreed, and bound him apprentice for three years to Mr Thomas Anderson,
surgeon in Selkirk. At the close of his indenture in 1789, being then
eighteen years of age, he went to Edinburgh, and attended the classes for
three successive sessions, continuing to exhibit the same thirst of
knowledge, and unwearied application to all the studies connected with his
profession, particularly botany. In the latter, he is said to have been
greatly assisted and encouraged by a brother-in-law, Mr James Dickson, who,
from an origin even more humble and obscure than that of Park himself,
subsequently raised himself to fame and fortune, and became celebrated as
one of the first botanists in the kingdom. He had gone to London in search
of employment as a journeyman gardener, and procured an engagement, in that
humble capacity, with a nurseryman at Hammersmith, where he had the good
fortune to attract the notice of Sir Joseph Banks, to whose kind friendship
and patronage he was mainly indebted for his future success and celebrity.
After qualifying himself in
his profession at Edinburgh, young Park went to London in search of
employment, and was very speedily appointed assistant-surgeon on board the
Worcester, East Indiaman, through the interest of Sir Joseph Banks, to whom
Mr Dickson had introduced him. Mr Park showed himself everyway worthy of
this appointment, and made an adequate return to his distinguished patron,
by the valuable observations and discoveries he made in botany, and other
branches of natural history, in a voyage to Bencoolen, in the island of
Sumatra. On his return in 1794, being then only twenty-three years old, he
had the honour of reading a paper before the Linnaean Society in London,
giving a description of eight new species of fishes he had observed in
Sumatra, which was afterwards published in the Transactions of the Society.
After leaving the Worcester,
Mr Park appears to have had no certain or fixed views as to his future
career, but his talents and genius distinguished him too much to allow him
to remain long unemployed. The wealthy and scientific Association for the
Promotion of Discovery through the Interior of Africa, were at that time
preparing to send out an expedition, with the view of endeavouring to trace
the course of the Niger, and procuring every information relative to the
great central city of Timbuctoo, of which little more than the name was then
known. Sir Joseph Banks, one of the leading men of the Association,
immediately pointed out Park as one peculiarly eligible for taking the
management of the expedition, and the offer being accordingly made to him,
was eagerly accepted. He immediately prepared himself, therefore, for the
task, being liberally supplied, according to his own statement, with the
means of furnishing himself with everything he reckoned necessary, and
sailed from Portsmouth on the 22nd of May, 1795, in the brig Endeavour His
instructions were, to proceed to the Niger by the nearest and most
convenient route, and endeavour to trace its course, from its rise to its
termination; as also to visit, if possible, all the principal towns and
cities on its banks, particularly Timbuctoo and Houssa, and afterwards
return to Europe by the river Gambia, or any other way he thought advisable.
He arrived at Jillifica, in the kingdom of Barra, and lying on the northern
bank of the Gambia, on the 21st of June; and after proceeding up the river
as far as Jonkakonda, he quitted the Endeavour, and proceeded by land to a
small British factory, which had been established at Pisania, in the king of
Yam’s territories, where he took up his residence for a short time with Dr
Laidley. He immediately applied himself to the study of the Mandingo tongue,
and to collect all the information possible, relative to the various people
and countries in the interior, preparatory to his journey. In consequence,
however, of exposure to the night dew, while observing an eclipse of the
moon, in the month of July, he was seized with fever, attended with
delirium, which brought him almost to the grave; nor was he sufficiently
recovered to commence his journey till December. On the 2nd of that month he
set out, having for his escort a negro servant, named Johnson, who had
resided many years in Great Britain, and understood both the English and
Mandingo languages, as a guide and interpreter; a negro boy belonging to Dr
Laidley, and whom that gentleman promised to set free on his return, in the
event of his good conduct; with four others, not immediately under his
control, but who were made to understand that their own safety depended upon
their fidelity to him. It may be interesting also to notice the nature and
value of his equipments for a journey of such length, peril, and importance.
These consisted of a horse for himself, two asses for his servants,
provisions for two days, a small assortment of beads, amber, and tobacco, a
few changes of linen and other apparel, an umbrella, a pocket sextant, a
magnetic compass, a thermometer, two fowling-pieces, two pairs of pistols,
and a few other trifling articles. Such were all the means of sustenance,
comfort, and safety, with which this intrepid man was provided for an
expedition, the duration of which it was out of his power to calculate, but
whose route, he well knew, lay, in some places, through pathless deserts,
where neither tree grew, nor water ran, and beset with beasts of prey; in
others, through the territories of barbarous tribes, from whose
inhospitality or savage dispositions he had scarcely less to fear.
At the very outset, an event
occurred which seemed to bode ill for the result of his journey. Dr Laidley,
and a few other of the Europeans at Pisania, having escorted him during the
first two days, bade him adieu, convinced that they would never see him
more; and scarcely were they out of sight, when he was surrounded by a horde
of native banditti, from whom he only got free by surrendering the greater
part of his small store of tobacco. Park, however, was not a man to be
depressed by evil auguries, and he accordingly pushed on to Medina, the
capital of Woolli, where the king, a benevolent old man, received him with
much kindness, and furnished him with a trusty guide to the frontiers of his
dominions. Our traveller then engaged three elephant hunters, as guides and
water-bearers, through the sandy desert which lay before him, where water
was frequently not to be found for several days together. He performed the
journey in safety, but after much fatigue, and reached Fatteconda, the
residence of the king of Bondon, situated upon the very frontiers of his
dominions, adjoining the kingdom of Kajaaga. It was at Fatteconda, and at
the hands of the same chief, that Park’s predecessor in enterprise, Major
Houghton, had received such ill usage, and was plundered of almost
everything he possessed; but the only article he exacted from Park, and that
not by force, but by such warm and animated expressions of admiration as
left our traveller no alternative to choose, was his new blue coat, with
gilt buttons, in return for which he presented him with five drachms of
gold. From Fatteconda he proceeded to Joag, the frontier town of Kajaaga,
travelling in the night-time for fear of robbers, and through thickets
abounding with wolves and hyenas, which glided across their silent path in
the clear moonshine, and hung round the small party with yells and howlings,
as if watching an opportunity to spring upon them. At Joag, and whilst
preparing to proceed on his journey, he was honoured by a visit from the
king’s son, who plundered him of the half of his little stores, on pretence
of his having forfeited all his property by entering the kingdom without
leave. As a sort of consolation for this disaster, and whilst appeasing his
hunger with a few ground nuts which a poor negro slave had given him in
charity, he was waited upon by the nephew of the king of Kasson, who had
been at Kajaaga on an embassy, and who, taking pity on him, offered to
escort him to his uncle’s capital, to which he was now returning, and which
lay in the line of our traveller’s route. After crossing the river Senegal,
however, which was the boundary of Kasson, his royal guide left him, having
first taken from him the half of the little property he had left. A few days
after this, Park, for the first time, had an opportunity of observing the
manners of the barbarous and untutored natives of Africa in all their
primitive simplicity and unchecked ardour. They came to a village which was
the birth-place of one of his faithful escort, a blacksmith that had
accompanied him from Pisania, and who was now about to leave him, having
amassed a considerable deal of money in his profession on the coast, and
resolving to spend the rest of his days in ease and independence amongst his
family and friends. The meeting which ensued was characterized by the most
extravagant demonstrations of joy and triumph, and Park was convinced, that
"whatever difference there is between the negro and European, in the
conformation of the nose, and the colour of the skin, there is none in the
genuine sympathies and characteristic feelings of our common nature." With
these warm-hearted villagers, our traveller rested for a day or two, and
then proceeded to Kooniakary, where the king, a worthy old man, who was
greatly beloved by his subjects, received him with much kindness. From this point new perils beset Mr Park’s further progress, in consequence of
war breaking out between the people of Bambarra, to which kingdom his
course was directed, and other tribes, through whose territories he had to
pass on his way thither. He nevertheless persevered, although even his
faithful negro Johnson, who was aware of the dangers he was running into,
refused to accompany him farther. They parted accordingly at Jarra, in the
kingdom of Ludimar (the people of which, as well as of the neighbouring
nations, were found to be Mahomedans), and Mr Park, having intrusted Johnson
with a copy of his journal to carry back with him to Pisania, set out for
the camp of Ali at Benowm, accompanied only by Dr Laidley’s slave boy, and a
messenger who had arrived from Ali to conduct him thither. On the way he
suffered great privations, and was repeatedly beaten and robbed by the
fanatical Moors, to whom he was an object of peculiar detestation as a
Christian. All the sufferings and insults which he had yet undergone,
however, were nothing to what he was doomed to endure while in the power of
the tyrant Ali. His appearance at Benowm excited the greatest astonishment
and consternation amongst the inhabitants, scarcely one of whom had ever
seen a white man before. When taken before Ali, the latter was engaged in
the dignified occupation of clipping his beard with a pair of scissors, and
paid little regard to him; but the ladies of the court fully maintained the
character of their sex for inquisitiveness, searched his pockets, opened his
waistcoat to examine his white skin, and even counted his toes and fingers
to make sure of his being human. It would occupy far more space than the
limits of this memoir will allow, to detail the innumerable and unremitting
sufferings of our unfortunate countryman during his detention at this place.
The unfeeling tyrant would neither permit him to depart, nor grant him any
protection from the persecution of the fanatical rabble. He was beat,
reviled, compelled to perform the meanest offices, frequently on the point
of starvation, and was often necessitated to sleep in the open air. All his
baggage was taken from him to deter him from running away, with the
exception of a pocket compass, which was supposed to be the work of magic,
from the needle always pointing in the same direction, and was therefore
returned to him. At last it began to be debated how he was to be disposed
of--some advising that he should be put to death, others, that his right
hand should be cut off, and another party, that his eyes should be put out.
Park’s health at length gave way under the accumulated horrors of his
situation, and he was seized with a fever and delirium, which brought him to
the brink of the grave. Yet even in this extremity, his persecutors never
desisted from their cruelties, and tormented him like some obnoxious animal,
for their amusement. Perhaps the strongest proof that can be given of the
extent of his sufferings at this time, and of the deep and lasting
impression they made on his mind, is the fact, that years afterwards,
subsequent to his return to Scotland, and while residing with his family on
the peaceful banks of the Tweed, he frequently started up in horror from his
sleep, imagining himself still in the camp of Ali at Benowm. But perhaps
nothing gave our traveller so much permanent grief as the fate of his
faithful slave boy Demba, whom Ali impressed into his service, as a soldier,
and who had conceived a great affection for Mr Park, who describes their
parting as very affecting. After a month’s residence at Benowm, Ali removed
to Jarra, back to which place, of course, Mr Park was obliged to accompany
him. Here all was alarm and terror, from the approach and apprehended attack
of the king of Kaarta; and amid the bustle and confusion of the inhabitants
flying from their homes, the preparations for war, &c., Mr Park at last,
after great difficulty, and amid many perils, found an opportunity of
escaping, and struck into the woods back towards Bambarra. Being under the
necessity of avoiding all intercourse with the natives, in order to avoid
being recaptured by the emissaries of Ali, who were in pursuit of him, he
was at one time nearly famished in the wilderness, and we will take his own
account of his sensations at this awful crisis. Thirst, intense and burning
thirst, was the first and direst of his sufferings; his mouth and throat
became parched and inflamed, and a sudden dimness frequently came over his
eyes, accompanied with symptoms of fainting. The leaves of the few shrubs
that grew around were all too bitter for chewing. After climbing up a tree
in the hopes of discovering some signs of a human habitation, but without
success, he again descended in despair. "As I was now," says he, "too faint
to attempt walking, and my horse too fatigued to carry me, I thought it but
an act of humanity, and perhaps the last I should ever have it in my power
to perform, to take off his bridle, and let him shift for himself; in doing
which, I was affected with sickness and giddiness, and, falling upon the
sand, felt as if the hour of death was fast approaching. Here, then, thought
I, after a short but ineffectual struggle, terminate all my hopes of being
useful in my day and generation; here must the short span of my life come to
an end. I cast, as I believed, a last look on the surrounding scene; and
whilst I reflected on the awful change that was about to take place, this
world and its enjoyments seemed to vanish from my recollection. Nature,
however, at length resumed her functions; and, on recovering my senses, I
found myself stretched upon the sand, with the bridle still in my hand, and
the sun just sinking behind the trees. I now summoned all my resolution, and
determined to make another effort to prolong my existence: and as the
evening was somewhat cool, I resolved to travel as far as my limbs would
carry me, in hopes of reaching (my only resource) a watering place. With
this view, I put the bridle upon my horse, and driving him before me,
went slowly along for about an hour, when I perceived some lightning from
the northeast; a most delightful sight, for it promised rain. The darkness
and lightning increased very rapidly, and, in less than an hour, I heard the
wind roaring behind the bushes. I had already opened my mouth to receive the
refreshing drops which I expected, but I was instantly covered with a cloud
of sand, driven with such force by the wind, as to give a very disagreeable
sensation to my face and arms; and I was obliged to mount my horse, and stop
under a bush, to avoid being suffocated. The sand continued to fly for
nearly an hour in amazing quantities, after which I again set forwards, and
travelled with difficulty until ten o’clock. At this time, I was agreeably
surprised by some very vivid flashes of lightning, followed by a few heavy
drops of rain. I alighted, and spread out all my clean clothes to collect
the rain, which at length I saw would certainly fall. For more than an hour
it rained plentifully, and I quenched my thirst by wringing and sucking my
clothes." Park at length entered the kingdom of Bambarra, where he found the
people hospitable, and was astonished at the opulence and extent of
cultivation he everywhere found. The country, he says, was beautiful,
intersected on all sides by rivulets, which, after a rain-storm, were
swelled into rapid streams. He was, however, such an object of amusement and
ridicule to the inhabitants, from his own tattered condition, together with
the appearance of his horse, which was a perfect skeleton, and which he
drove before him, that the very slaves, he says, were ashamed to be seen in
his company. Notwithstanding all this, however, he held on his way, and at
last, on the 21st of July (1796), had the inexpressible gratification of
coming in sight of Sego, the capital of Bambarra, situated on the Niger,
which the natives denominated Joliba, or the "Great Water." "As we
approached the town," says Park, "I was fortunate enough to overtake the
fugitive Kaartans, and we rode together through some marshy ground, where,
as I anxiously looked around for the river, one of them called out
Geo affilli (see the water). Looking forwards, I saw, with infinite
pleasure, the great object of my mission—the long sought for majestic Niger,
glittering to the morning sun, as broad as the Thames at Westminster, and
flowing slowly to the eastward. I hastened to the brink, and having
drunk of the water, lifted up my fervent thanks in prayer to the Great Ruler
of all things, for having thus far crowned my endeavours with success." Sego
consisted of four distinct towns, two on the northern, and two on the
southern bank of the Niger; "and the view of this extensive capital," says
our traveller, "the numerous canoes on the river, the crowded population,
and the cultivated state of the surrounding country, formed altogether a
prospect of civilization and magnificence which I little expected to find in
the bosom of Africa." The king, Mansong, however, refused to see Mr Park,
for fear of exciting the envy and jealousy of the Moorish inhabitants, and
ordered him to remove to a village in the vicinity. He had no alternative
but to comply; and it was here that one of those fine traits of female
compassion, and of the kind interposition of Providence in his favour when
at the last extremity, which he has frequently borne testimony to with
thankfulness and gratitude, occurred; and this truly affecting incident we
cannot avoid giving in his own simple language. On arriving at the village,
he was inhospitably driven from every door, with marks of fear and
astonishment. He passed the day without victuals, and was preparing to spend
the night under a tree, exposed to the rain and the fury of the wild beasts,
which there greatly abounded, "when a woman, returning from the labours of
the field, stopped to observe me, and perceiving me weary and dejected,
inquired into my situation, which I briefly explained to her; whereupon,
with looks of great compassion, she took up my saddle and bridle, and told
me to follow her. Having conducted me into her hut, she lighted up a lamp,
spread a mat upon the floor, and told me I might remain there for the night.
Finding that I was very hungry, she said she would procure me something to
eat; she accordingly went out, and returned in a short time with a very fine
fish, which having caused to be broiled upon some embers, she gave me for
supper. The rites of hospitality being thus performed towards a stranger in
distress, my worthy benefactress (pointing to the mat, and telling me I
might sleep there without apprehension), called to the female part of her
family, who had stood gazing on me all the while in fixed astonishment, to
resume their task of spinning cotton, in which they continued to
employ themselves great part of the night. They lightened their labour with
songs, one of which was composed extempore, for I was myself the subject of
it; it was sung by one of the young women; the rest joining in a chorus. The
air was sweet and plaintive, and the words, literally translated, were
these: ‘The winds roared, and the rains fell. The poor white man, faint and
weary, came and sat under our tree—he has no mother to bring him milk, no
wife to grind his corn.’ Chorus—‘Let us pity the white man; no mother has
he!’ &c., &c. Trifling as this recital may appear to the reader, to a person
in my situation the circumstance was affecting in the highest degree. I was
so oppressed by such unexpected kindness, that sleep fled before my eyes. In
the morning I presented my compassionate landlady with two of the four brass
buttons that remained on my waistcoat, the only recompense I could make
her." Mansong, the king, having ordered Park to leave the neighbourhood,
(sending him, however, a guide, and a present of 5000 cowries, as some
recompense for his involuntary inhospitality,) our traveller proceeded down
the Niger, along the northern bank. On one occasion, while passing through
the woods, he narrowly escaped being devoured by a large red lion, which he
suddenly came upon, crouching in a bush, but which did not attack him. He
proceeded first to Sansanding, thence to Moodiboo, Moorzan, and finally to
Silla. Here, worn out by fatigue and suffering of mind and body, destitute
of all means, either of subsistence or of prosecuting his journey—for even
his horse had dropped down by the way—his resolution and energy, of which no
man ever possessed a greater share, began to fail him. The rainy season had
set in, and he could only travel in a canoe, which he had no money to hire;
and he was advancing farther and farther into the territories of the
fanatical Moors, who looked upon him with loathing and detestation, and
whose compassion he had no gifts to propitiate. It was with great anguish of
mind that he was at last brought to the conviction of the necessity of
returning; but no one who has read his own simple and manly statement of his
actual situation, and of the prospect before him, together with his poignant
sensations at his disappointment, can for a moment blame him for turning
back. Preparatory to doing so, he collected all the information in his power
respecting the future course of the Niger, and the various kingdoms through
which it flowed; but subsequent discoveries have since proved how little
credit could be attached to the accounts of the natives, either from their
positive ignorance or their suspicious jealousy of strangers. Later and more
fortunate travellers, have solved the great problem, the honour of
explaining which was denied to Park; and we now know that this great river,
after flowing to a considerable distance eastward of Timbuctoo, makes a bend
or elbow, like the Burampooter, and, after pursuing a south-westerly course,
falls into the Atlantic Ocean on the coast of Benin. The narrative of Mr
Park’s return from the interior of Africa would be little else than a
repetition of the various sufferings, adventures, and dangers he experienced
on his way there, but only in a more aggravated form, in consequence both of
his utterly destitute condition, and from the inundation of the level
country, which compelled him to seek his way over chasms and precipices,
without a guide, or any other means of shaping his course. He frequently
waded for miles breast-deep in water. Once he was beset by banditti, who
stripped him of everything but two shirts, his hat, and a pair of trousers;
and on arriving at Sibidooloo, he was attacked by fever, which stretched him
on his back for many weeks. Here, however, he was fortunate enough to meet
with a slave merchant, named Karfa Taura, who treated him with great
kindness and humanity—took him into his own house—nursed him until be was
well--kept him as his guest for seven months, without asking the smallest
recompense—and finally conducted him in safety to Pisania, with a cargo of
his living merchandise. Our traveller immediately took his passage in an
American vessel, bound for the West Indies, whence he had no difficulty in
getting to Britain, and landed at Falmouth on the 22d of December, 1797,
after an absence of two years and seven months.
Mr Park was received with
distinguished honour by the African Association, and almost all the other
scientific bodies and eminent literary characters of the metropolis, and was
for some time, what is familiarly termed, the lion of the town.
Having made arrangements in London for the publication of his travels, he
proceeded to Scotland in June 1798, and spent the succeeding summer and
autumn at his native place, Fowlshiels, among his relations and friends, his
mother being the only parent then alive. His time, however, was far from
being passed in idleness, or merely in social meetings with old friends and
acquaintance, much as his company, as may readily be imagined, was sought
after. He applied himself indefatigably to the compilation and composition
of his travels, which he finished and carried back with him to London in the
end of the year. In the following spring they were published, and it is
needless to say how universally, or with what avidity, not to mention
incredulity, by many, they were read. For the latter contingency, Mr
Park himself was prepared, and with a judicious caution, which few of his
rivals in discovery, either before or since, have had the prudence or
self-denial, as it may aptly be termed, to adopt, omitted the relation
of many real incidents and adventures, which he feared might shake the
probability of his narrative in the public estimation. This fact has been
proved beyond doubt, by the testimony of many of his intimate friends and
relatives, to whom, although by no means of a communicative disposition, he
freely mentioned many singular anecdotes and particulars, which he scrupled
to submit to the jealous eye of the critical public. Amongst those friends
to whom Mr Park frequently communicated in a colloquial way many most
interesting and remarkable circumstances which did not appear in his printed
travels, was Sir Walter Scott, between whom and Mr Park a strong intimacy
was contracted subsequent to the return of the latter from Africa, and who
tells us, that having once noticed to his friend the omissions in question
(which appeared to one of his romantic temperament and ardent imagination to
be unaccountable), and asked an explanation, Mr Park replied, "that in all
cases where he had information to communicate, which he thought of
importance to the public, he had stated the facts boldly, leaving it to his
readers to give such credit to his statements as they might appear justly to
deserve; but that he would not shock their credulity, or render his travels
more marvellous, by introducing circumstances, which, however true, were of
little or no moment, as they related solely to his own personal adventures
and escapes." If this scrupulousness on the part of the traveller is to be
regretted in one sense, as consigning to oblivion many curious and
interesting facts, it certainly raises him as a man and an author
incalculably in our estimation, and bespeaks the most implicit belief and
confidence in what he has promulgated to the world.
After the publication of his
travels, he returned to Scotland, and in August the same year married Miss
Anderson, the eldest daughter of his old master at Selkirk. For some time
after his marriage, and before he set out on his second expedition, Mr Park
appears to have been quite undecided as to his prospects in life; and
perhaps the comparative independence of his circumstances, from the profits
of his publication, and the remuneration he obtained from the African
Association, rendered him somewhat indifferent to any immediate permanent
situation. But it was likewise strongly suspected by his intimate friends,
that he entertained hopes of being soon called upon to undertake another
mission to the Niger, although he kept perfectly silent on the subject.
As time continued to elapse,
without any such proposition from the expected quarter being made, Mr Park
perceived the imprudence of remaining in idleness, and in 1801, removed to
Peebles, where he commenced practice as a surgeon. But it would appear he
was not very successful in this speculation; and this fact, together with
the natural restlessness of his disposition, seems to have rendered his
situation peculiarly irksome to him. In answer to a friend, who suspected
his design of again proceeding abroad, and earnestly remonstrated with him
against it, he writes, "that a few inglorious winters of practice at Peebles
was a risk as great, and would tend as effectually to shorten life, as the
journey he was about to undertake." In the mean time, his ennui, or
impatience, was much relieved by the enjoyment of the best society in the
neighbourhood, and by being honoured with the friendship of many of the most
distinguished characters in Scotland at that time. Amongst these were the
venerable Dr Adam Ferguson, then resident at Hallyards, near Peebles;
colonel Murray of Cringletie; and professor Dugald Stewart. As before
mentioned, too, a strong intimacy sprung up between our traveller and Sir
Walter Scott, then but little known in the literary world, and who resided
with his family at Ashiestiel, on the banks of the Tweed. This friendship
commenced in 1804, after Mr Park had removed from Peebles to Fowlshiels, and
was preparing for his second expedition to Africa, of which he had then got
intimation. It is pleasing to know the cordiality and affectionate
familiarity which subsisted between these celebrated men, and also that it
arose from a marked congeniality in their tastes and habits. [It chanced
that they were born within a month of each other.] Park was an enthusiastic
lover of poetry, especially the minstrelsy with which his native district
was rife; and although he made no pretensions to the laurel crown himself,
he occasionally gave expression to his feelings and thoughts in verse, even
from his earliest years. It was little wonder, then, that he should own a
particular predilection for the society of one whose heart and memory were
so richly stored with the ancient ballad lore of his country, although his
reserve towards strangers in general, which was carried even to a repulsive
degree, was notorious. In particular, Sir Walter Scott has noticed the
strong aversion of his friend to being questioned in a promiscuous company
on the subject of his adventures, of which grievance, as may be imagined, he
had frequent cause to complain.
The new mission to Africa,
which was now sanctioned and promoted by government, had been projected so
far back as 1801; but owing to changes in the ministry, and other causes of
delay, the preparations for it were not completed till 1805. Mr Park parted
from his family, and proceeded to London with his brother-in-law, Mr James
Anderson, who, as well as Mr Scott, an artist, had resolved to accompany him
in his expedition. On this occasion, Mr Park received the brevet commission
of captain in Africa, and a similar commission of lieutenant to his relative
Mr Anderson. Mr Scott also was employed by government to accompany the
expedition as draughtsman. Mr Park was, at the same time, empowered to
enlist soldiers from the garrison of the island of Goree, to the number of
forty-five, to accompany him in his journey; and the sum of £5000 was placed
at his disposal, together with directions as to his route, &c. The
expedition sailed from Portsmouth on the 30th January, 1806, and arrived at
Pisania on the 28th of April, where preparations were immediately made for
the inland journey. The party consisted of forty men, two lieutenants, a
draughtsman (Mr Scott), and Park himself; they had horses for themselves,
and asses for carrying the provisions and merchandise. Mr Park wrote to
several friends at home, previously to setting out, in the highest spirits,
and seemingly perfectly confident of success. In his letter to Mr Dickson,
he says, "this day six weeks, I expect to drink all your healths in the
Niger;" and again, "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 fairly afloat, the day is won." Alas! how sadly these
sanguine expressions contrast with the melancholy issue of the expedition.
Park’s chance of reaching the Niger in safety depended mainly upon his doing
so previously to the commencement of the rainy season, which is always most
fatal to Europeans; but scarcely had they got half way when the rain set in,
and the effect on the health of the men was as speedy as disastrous. They
were seized with vomiting, sickness, dysentery, and delirium; some died on
the road, others were drowned in the rivers, and several were left in the
precarious charge of the natives in the villages. Some, still more
unfortunate, were lost in the woods, where they would inevitably be devoured
by wild beasts; while the native banditti, who imagined the caravan to
contain immense wealth, hung upon their march, and plundered them at every
opportunity. In crossing the Wondu, they nearly lost their guide Isaaco, by
a large crocodile, which pulled him below the water several times, but from
which he at last got free, much lacerated. At another time they were
encountered by three large lions, but which took to flight at the sound of
Mr Park’s musket. At last the miserable remnant of the party--only nine out
of forty-four, and these nine all sick, and some in a state of mental
derangement--reached Bambakoo, on the Niger. Here Mr Scott was left behind
on account of sickness, of which he shortly died; while the rest proceeded
to Sego, the capital of Bambarra, which they reached on the 19th of
September. Mansong was still king, and was so highly gratified with the
presents brought to him, that he gave them permission to build a boat, and
promised to protect them as far as lay in his power. Mr Park forthwith
opened a shop for the sale of his European goods, which immediately obtained
such demand, that his shop was crowded with customers from morning till
night, and one day he turned over no less than 25,756 cowries. Here,
however, he lost his brother-in-law Mr Anderson, a circumstance which
afflicted him greatly, and made him feel, as he himself expressed it, "as if
left a second time lonely and friendless amidst the wilds of Africa." But
not all the sufferings he had undergone, the loss of his companions, or the
dismal condition of the remainder, and the perilousness of his
situation—nothing could damp the native ardour of his mind. Having got a
sort of schooner constructed and rigged out, he prepared for setting out on
his formidable journey, previously to which, however, he took care to bring
his journal up to the latest hour, and wrote several letters to his friends
and relatives in Britain. These were intrusted to his faithful guide Isaaco,
to carry back to the Gambia, whence they were transmitted to England. His
letter to Mrs Park, excepting that part of it which mentions the death of
her brother and Mr Scott, was written in a cheering and hopeful strain;
speaks with confidence of his reaching the ocean in safety, and of the
probability of his being in England before the letter itself! His companions
were now reduced to four, viz., lieutenant Martyn and three soldiers, one of
whom was deranged in his mind; and with this miserable remnant, and a guide
named Amadi Fatouma, he set sail, as near as could be ascertained, on the
19th of November, 1806. The progress of the unfortunate travellers after
this period, and their ultimate fate, so long a mystery, are now familiarly
known, although there are many circumstances attending the unhappy closing
scene which are yet shrouded in doubt and uncertainty.
Vague rumours of the death of
Park and his companions were brought by some of the natives to the British
settlements on the coast, even so early as the end of 1806; but no
information could be got for several years of a nature to be at all relied
on, during which time the suspense of his friends and of the public at
large, but more particularly of his afflicted family, was of the most
painful nature. At length, in 1810, colonel Maxwell, governor of Senegal,
despatched Isaaco, Park’s former guide, into the interior, in order to
ascertain the truth or falsehood of the reports which prevailed. After an
absence of a year and eight months, this individual returned, and the many
facts of the narrative, which he gave as the result of his labours, are not
only but too probable in themselves, but seem to have been thoroughly
confirmed by the investigations of subsequent travellers. Isaaco stated,
that he had fallen in with Mr Park’s guide, Amadi Fatouma, at Medina, near
Sansanding, who, on seeing Isaaco, and hearing the name of Park, began to
weep, saying, "they are all dead;" and was with great difficulty induced to
detail the melancholy circumstances of the catastrophe. The account which he
gave is too long to be introduced entire here, but the substance of it was
as follows:—After leaving Sansanding, Mr Park navigated his way down the
Niger, as far as Boossa, in the kingdom of Yaour, which was more than
two-thirds of the distance between the ocean, or Gulf of Guinea, and where
the river is termed by the natives Quorra. They had frequent
skirmishes with the natives, particularly in passing Timbuctoo, where
several of the natives were killed. On reaching Yaour, Mr Park sent Amadi
Fatouma ashore with various presents, some of which were to the chief or
governor of the place, but the most valuable portion for the king, to whom
the chief was requested to send them. A short while after, the latter sent
to inquire if Mr Park intended to come back; and on being answered that he
could return no more, the treacherous chief appropriated the presents
intended for the king to his own use. This piece of knavery proved fatal to
the unfortunate travellers. The king, indignant at the supposed slight cast
on him, assembled a large army at the above mentioned village of Boussa,
where a large high rock stretches across the whole breadth of the river, the
only passage for the river being through an opening in the rock in the form
of a door. The army posted themselves on the top of the rock, and on Mr
Park’s attempting to pass, assailed him with lances, pikes, arrows, stones,
and missiles of every description. The beleaguered travellers defended
themselves for a long time, till all were either killed or severely wounded;
when, seeing the uselessness of further resistance, Mr Park, lieutenant
Martyn, and one or two more, jumped out of the boat, and were drowned in
attempting to get ashore. Only one slave was left alive. Such was the
narrative of Amadi Fatouma, who had left Mr Park at Yaour, where his
engagement with him terminated, and where he was for many months afterwards
confined in irons on suspicion of having purloined the presents intended for
the king, which had been made away with by the treacherous chief. Amadi had
obtained the accounts of the fatal scene from those who had taken a part in
it. The natives afterwards endeavoured to account for the disappearance of
Park, to the inquiries of subsequent travellers, by saying that his vessel
had foundered against the rock, and that he and his companions were drowned
by accident. But there is now not the shadow of a doubt that the above
narrative of Amadi is substantially true.
So perished Mungo Park, in
the thirty-fifth year of his age—a man whose natural enthusiasm, scientific
acquirements, undaunted intrepidity, patience of suffering, and inflexible
perseverance, in short, every quality requisite for a traveller in the path
he adopted, have never been surpassed, and who, had he survived, would no
doubt have reaped those laurels which more fortunate successors in the same
career have won. To these qualities in his public character, it is pleasing
to be able to add those of amiable simplicity of manners, constancy of
affection, and sterling integrity in private life.
Mr Park’s papers were, with
the exception of a few scraps, [These were, an old nautical publication (of
which the title-page was missing, and its contents chiefly tables of
logarithms), with a few loose memoranda of no importance between the leaves.
One of these papers, however, was curious enough, from the situation and
circumstances in which it was found. It was a card of invitation to dinner,
and was in the following terms:--"Mr and Mrs Watson would be happy to have
the pleasure of Mr Park’s company at dinner on Tuesday next, at half-past
five o’clock. An answer is requested. Strand, 9th Nov., 1804."
These were the only written documents belonging to Park which the Messrs
Landers, after the most anxious inquiries and investigations, were able to
discover. They succeeded, however, in recovering his double-barrelled gun,
and the tobe, or short cloak, which he wore when he was drowned.]
unfortunately all lost with him, and this is much to be regretted, as,
notwithstanding the important discoveries of the Landers, who subsequently
traced the course of the Quorra or Niger from Boussa, where Park fell, down
to the Gulf of Guinea, they were unable to explore a great part of that
immense portion of it which flows between Boussa and Timbuctoo, and which
Park must of necessity have navigated. Their united labours have, however,
solved the grand problem which has engaged the attention of all civilized
nations from the earliest ages to which history leads us back; and there
seems little cause for doubt, that, in a short time, the still broken links
in the great chain of communication with the center of Africa will be
united.
You can read his Journal here |