CHAPTER XVI.

THE RELIEF OF THE REAR-GUARD.

Major Barttelot--The situation at the Yambuya camp--Arrival of Tippoo Tib’s porters--Banalya--Assassination of Major Barttelot--Death of Mr. Jameson--Arrival of Stanley at Banalya--Stanley’s letter to Tippoo Tib--On the march again--Famine--A starvation camp--At Fort Bodo--Arrival at the lake--Disastrous tidings.

Major Edmund Barttelot, to whom Stanley had entrusted the command of his rear-caravan, was a young officer, who, in the expedition to the Soudan under Lord Wolseley, was in charge of a camel-corps of 1000 Somalis from Aden to Abu-Klea. Throughout the campaign the major distinguished himself by energy and courage.

But in order to succeed in an unknown land like the Congo, and in an undertaking so exceptionally difficult as the conduct of the relief expedition, something more than military ardour was requisite. It is necessary to have foresight and patience, and beyond all it is indispensable to have tact and forbearance in dealing with the natives. And in these latter qualities the major unfortunately seems to have been deficient.

The sojourn of the rear-column at the Yambuya camp forms the most lamentable chapter in the history of the expedition.

When he started from Yambuya, Stanley had left with the major four Europeans, Messrs. Rose Troup, Ward, Jameson, and Bonny, and 257 men, mixed Soudanese and Zanzibaris. According to instructions Barttelot was to remain at Yambuya until the arrival of the steamers from Stanley Pool, which would bring up all the men and the goods that had been left at Leopoldville and Bolobo. Then, provided that the contingent of porters promised by Tippoo Tib had also arrived, the whole column was to set out on their march; or even if the porters were delayed and were late in coming, the major might, if he thought it advisable, break up the camp and start without them, following on in the track of Stanley, who had promised to come back and meet him.

As events turned out, the porters did not arrive; the major, however, continued to expect their appearance, and waited on at Yambuya for nearly a year.

It was a year of indescribable misery. The discomforts of the camp, the dearth of provisions, the maintenance of 257 men almost exclusively on the produce of a field of manioc, the misunderstanding between the officer in command and his own men on the one hand, and on the other, alike with the natives around, and with the Arabs in the remoter settlements, the distrust and dislike engendered by the major’s severity and lack of sympathy, all combined to render the situation very painful. Sickness broke out in the camp, and the mortality was frightful. Decimated by fever, dysentery, and mental as well as bodily suffering, the contingent was gradually reduced to 145 men, little more than half its original number. It must seem little short of a miracle that not one of the Europeans succumbed to the miseries that they were called to endure. It was the opinion of full many of those who were eye-witnesses of this gloomy episode, that Major Barttelot was not at all equal to the large responsibility that had been imposed upon him. Moreover, it is obvious that there was far from a good understanding between him and his European associates, and altogether their relations, both personal and official, were very strained.

Two Government steamers visited the camp in May, and found its aspect very miserable, presenting a striking contrast to an Arab encampment that was settled a little higher up the river. The Europeans were sick and dispirited, quartered in comfortless huts, while their Arab neighbours were in every way thriving, lively, and well-ordered; not living in hovels, but in clay houses provided with verandahs, to which the natives resorted to barter their goods.

No doubt, it must be conceded, Major Barttelot’s difficulties were excessively great and trying; but if, without prolonging his stay so unfortunately, he had advanced upon the track of the van column, and so had reached the lake or Fort Bodo in time to prevent Stanley losing seven months in coming back to seek him, who can say whether the subsequent events on the Nile and all the disastrous consequences that ensued might not have been averted?

The porters for whom Tippoo Tib had made the contract put in an appearance on the 4th of June. They had been engaged with difficulty, the majority being collected from the Manyema district and brought from Nyangwé to Yambuya by Mr. Jameson, who had been to the Upper Lualaba to take part in the recruiting.

Some days were occupied in the organisation of the caravan, but it was ultimately ready to start. It consisted of 25 Soudanese, 125 Zanzibaris, and the 400 porters that had just arrived. Major Barttelot was the recognised leader, having the assistance of Messrs. Bonny and Jameson. The services of Mr. Rose Troup were lost, as his health had failed, and he had been obliged to return to the coast, whither Mr. Ward had already preceded him, because, in the absence of all communication from Stanley, it was thought proper to telegraph to London and describe the condition of the column thus left in the rear.

And now that the day had come on which they should set out, the question might well be asked what should be the fate of those who, almost destitute of provisions, were to be conducted through the most terrible of unknown lands by a young and inexperienced officer who had failed to secure the confidence either of his own personal associates or of the negro soldiers under him?

Some bickerings and squabbling had already broken out, and Captain Van Gèle, who had been at Yambuya only a few days previously, had stated that if it had not been for the presence and authority of Tippoo Tib, an outburst of mutiny would have been inevitable. The crisis, however, was not to be long deferred; the fatal issue was close at hand.

It was at half-past seven on the morning of June 11th that the expedition effected its start. Some preliminary difficulties having been overcome, Major Barttelot temporarily handed over the supervision of the column to Mr. Bonny, so as to allow himself an opportunity of going to the Falls to take counsel with the Europeans and to see Tippoo Tib. Resuming the route to the Aruwimi, he re-formed his caravan at an encampment near the village of Banalya on the 18th of July.

The evening of his arrival the camp was _en fête_. The porters were shouting, singing, and dancing according to their habit when they are on the march. Barttelot, disliking the uproar, gave orders for immediate silence, and for the time his orders were obeyed; but about 4 A.M. the boisterous merriment broke out again, exuberant as ever. Furious that his directions should be thus set at defiance, the major rose and left his tent, and notwithstanding the remonstrances of Mr. Bonny, proceeded to the quarters of the bearers. A woman was singing and beating a drum in front of one of the huts; he spoke angrily to her, and threatened her with punishment. In another moment a shot was fired and the major fell dead.

It was the woman’s husband, a Manyema named Sanga, who had done the fatal act. He had resented the vengeance that was threatened to his wife, and raising his gun he killed the white chief upon the spot.

Hearing the report, Mr. Bonny rushed from his tent to find the camp all in commotion, and the porters flying in every direction and shrieking aloud: “The white man is dead! the white man is dead!”

At the outset of the caravan Captain Vankerkhoven, the Commissioner of the Bangala district, as he witnessed its departure, had expressed his misgivings about it. “I do not believe in its success,” he said; “its leader has no tact, and no patience with the negroes.” And, indeed, it might almost seem as though the major had brought his own fate upon himself, as it is universally known that the negro, when once aroused to anger, is very revengeful.

[Illustration: FISHING AT STANLEY FALLS.

(_From a Sketch by M. Louis Amelot._)]

But this was only the beginning of the misfortunes that befell the expedition; it had to bewail the loss of all its leaders in succession except one.

After doing his best to assist Mr. Bonny in calming the disorder in the camp that prevailed as the consequence of Major Barttelot’s assassination, Mr. Jameson had to leave for Stanley Falls for the purpose of doing what he could to fill up the deficiency in numbers made by the repeated desertions of the men. It had been his intention, as soon as he could rejoin Mr. Bonny, to proceed with him along the route to the Nyanza, but having been informed at the Falls that Mr. Ward was at Bangala, retracing his way from the coast, he thought it desirable to go and meet him that they might consult together. Accordingly he took his passage on board a large native boat.

He had overtaxed his strength. Shortly before reaching the confluence of the Lomami, he had a violent attack of fever, and on the 16th of August when he arrived at Bangala, he was already in a dying state. Surviving only till the following day, he died without having been able to make the Europeans at the station understand what had been the object of his coming.

On that very date of Mr. Jameson’s death, Mr. Bonny, the solitary European now left to supervise the camp, was standing outside his hut, expecting Jameson’s arrival with recruits, when he caught sight of a caravan, marching on in excellent order, and headed by a white man. It did not take long to recognise that here was Stanley redeeming his word, and come back from the Nyanza to bring up the contingent from the rear.

“Welcome, Bonny, welcome! but where is the major?”

“Major Barttelot is dead, sir. Shot a month ago by the Manyema.”

“Good God! And where is Mr. Jameson?”

“He has gone to Stanley Falls to try and get more men from Tippoo Tib.”

“And Troup, where is he?”

“Mr. Troup has gone home, sir, invalided.”

“Hem! hem! and where is Ward?”

“Mr. Ward is in Bangala.”

“Heavens alive! then you are the only one here.”

“Yes, sir.”

Very successfully had Stanley accomplished his journey back from Lake Nyanza to Banalya in eighty-two days, experiencing a loss of only three of his followers. He had left the lake on the 25th of May, and reached Fort Bodo in fourteen days. Captain Nelson and Lieutenant Stairs were there, and everything under their charge was satisfactory; nearly ten acres of land were under cultivation, and one crop of Indian corn had been harvested and was in the granaries. Dr. Parke was now left to act as medical attendant at the garrison, which only reckoned fifty-nine rifles.

It was by his deliberate choice that Stanley for his return down the river had left himself without any of his officers; it was his object not to be encumbered with the baggage which a retinue of European associates would entail, while he knew that every available porter would be wanted to carry up the large amount of stores that had been reserved for Barttelot to convey.

On the 24th of June he reached Kilonga-Longa’s, and on the 4th of July arrived at Ugarrowwa’s. This latter station he found deserted, as Ugarrowwa, having got together as much ivory as he could, had started down the river with a flotilla of fifty-seven canoes, which Stanley overtook on the 10th of August.

At Banalya, a melancholy surprise awaited him. Out of the 257 that he had left a year ago there were only seventy-one remaining, and of these not many more than fifty seemed fit for service. His own sufferings that he had endured with the advanced caravan had been sad and serious enough, but they appeared slight in comparison with the privation and mortality that had prevailed in Major Barttelot’s column. At present all his own men were in renovated and even robust health, but here the majority of the survivors from the Yambuya camp were reduced to a feeble and wretched condition.

After arriving at Banalya, Stanley lost no time in communicating with Europe. He sent off a messenger with letters to be forwarded from the Falls, and likewise wrote to Tippoo Tib in the following terms:--

“BOMA OF BANALYA (MURENIA), _August 17th_.

“To the Sheikh Hamed Ben Mahomed, from his good friend Henry Stanley.

“Many salaams to you. I hope you are in good health as I am, and that you have remained in good health since I left the Congo. I have many things to say to you, but I hope I shall see you face to face before many days. I reached this place this morning with 130 Wangwana, and three soldiers and sixty-six natives belonging to Emin Pasha. This is now the eighty-second day since we left Emin Pasha on the Nyanza, and we have only lost three men all the way. Two of them were drowned and the other ran away. I found the white men whom I was looking for. Emin Pasha was quite well, and the other white man, Casati, was quite well also. Emin has ivory in abundance, cattle by thousands, and sheep, goats, fowls, and food of all kinds. We found him to be a very good and kind man. He gave numbers of things to all our white and black men, and his liberality could not be exceeded. His soldiers blessed our black men for their kindness in coming so far to show them the way, and many of them were ready to follow me at once out of the country. But I asked them to stay quiet a few months that I might go back and fetch the other men and goods that I had left at Yambuya, and they prayed to God that He would give me the strength to finish my work. May their prayer be heard! And now, my friend, what are you going to do? We have gone the road twice over. We know where it is bad and where it is good; where there is plenty of food and where there is none; where all the camps are, and where we shall sleep and rest. I am waiting to hear your words. If you go with me it is well. If you do not go it is well. I leave it to you.

“I will stay here ten days, and then I go on slowly. I move from here to a big island two hours’ march from here, and above this place there are plenty of houses and plenty of food for the men. Whatever you have to say to me, my ears will be open with a good heart, as it has always been towards you. Therefore, if you come, come quickly; for on the eleventh morning from this I shall move on. All my white men are well, but I left them all behind, except my servant William, who is with me.

(Signed) “STANLEY.”

In reply to this letter Tippoo Tib sent a message explaining that he must decline the invitation to join Stanley on account of the scarcity of porters at his command; whereupon Stanley proceeded to reorganise his company, and made his start to rejoin Emin. The caravan, including his own men, now amounted to nearly 350 in all. Mr. Bonny accompanied the expedition, and the entire remaining lot of goods was taken on. It was now the 1st of September.

This was the beginning of a journey of more than four months’ duration, in which the route once more lay through the impenetrable forests and the devastated wildernesses of which the dwarf people were the only tenants. It was a period which brought sad and terrible hardships.

For two months, until the caravan arrived at the confluence of the Ihuru, all may be said to have gone fairly well, except for an outbreak of smallpox which was fatal to many of the native porters. Happily the Zanzibaris escaped the scourge, an immunity owing no doubt to their having been vaccinated on board the _Madura_ on their way from Zanzibar to the Cape.

Beyond the Ihuru, however, the condition of things went from bad to worse. Across the deserts by the right bank of the Aruwimi the famine became intense. Weeks of privation followed, and on the 9th of December Stanley resolved to encamp in a vast forest, and to despatch a foraging party to make their way to a populous centre, which according to his map he estimated would be found at no great distance. Day after day passed by, while the expedition, suffering the agonies of hunger, watched for the return of the foragers. Stanley has given a description of the trying time to the following effect:--

“Never in all my African experience had I been nearer absolute starvation. On the fifth day, after giving out all the flour there was in camp, and killing the only goat that had been reserved, I was obliged to open the cases of the officers’ provisions, which hitherto had been untouched. In the afternoon a boy died, and the condition of nearly all the rest was most disheartening; some could not stand upright, falling down as soon as they tried to rise. The spectacle that I had before my eyes thus constantly so acted on my nerves that I ended by sympathising with it, not only morally but physically, just as though weakness were contagious.

“A Madi porter died before night; the last of our Somalis gave signs of collapse, and the few Soudanese who were with us were scarce able to move.

“The morning of the sixth day dawned. We made our broth as usual, abundance of water, a pot of butter, a pot of condensed milk, and a cupful of flour for 130 people! Matters had come to a critical condition.

“Mr. Bonny and the chiefs were called together for a consultation, and surmises of every conceivable kind were put forward as to what could account for the prolonged absence of the party sent out to forage. Finally, Mr. Bonny volunteered to stay at the encampment with ten men, on condition that I would leave him provisions for ten days.

“This did not seem much; it could hardly be difficult to supply sufficient gruel to keep ten men alive for ten days; but then there were all the sick and all the enfeebled who would be unable to keep moving, and must necessarily die of exhaustion and hunger, unless I had good luck. Nevertheless, I accepted Mr. Bonny’s offer, and a stone of milk, butter, flour, and biscuit was prepared and handed over for his use.”

In the afternoon of the seventh day a general inspection was made; it showed that there were forty-three individuals who were absolutely incapable of following Stanley, and who must be left to the charge of Mr. Bonny and his ten men. Sadi, the chief of the Manyema, abandoned fourteen of his people to their fate; Kibbo-Bora, another chief, left his brother; a third chief, Fundi, left one of his wives and a little boy. The remaining twenty-six were his own people. The condition of all these seemed desperate, and there was hardly a ray of hope for them unless food could be brought to them within the next twenty-four hours.

“In a cheery tone, though my heart was never heavier, I told the forty-three hunger-bitten people that I was going back to hunt up the missing men. Probably I should meet them on the road, but if I did they would be driven on the run with food to them. We travelled nine miles that afternoon, having passed several dead people on the road; and early on the eighth day of their absence from camp, met them marching in an easy fashion; but when we were met the pace was altered to a quick step, so that in twenty-six hours after leaving Starvation Camp, we were back with a cheery abundance around, gruel and porridge boiling, bananas boiling, plantains roasting, and some meat simmering in pots for soup.

“Twenty-one persons altogether succumbed in this dreadful camp.”

The Ihuru was crossed on the 18th of December, and on the next day the caravan having crossed the forest, regardless of paths, fortunately found itself at the west angle of the Fort Bodo plantations. It was in some anxiety that Stanley arrived there. What tidings would he get? Would his officers still be there? Had Emin and Jephson given any signs of life? Had their arrival been announced?

Fort Bodo was in the same condition in which he had left it seven months previously. Captain Nelson, Lieutenant Stairs, and Dr. Parke were all there, and were all well, having with them fifty-one soldiers out of the fifty-nine who had been left in their charge.

Meanwhile of Emin and Jephson there were no tidings; no rumours whatever about them had reached the Fort.

What could this prolonged silence portend? What could have transpired either at the Lake or at Wadelai to detain Jephson, who was a man of determined energy, and who had given his word to come back?

The situation appeared to admit of no delay, and it was resolved that the Fort must be abandoned forthwith. On the 23rd of December, therefore, the united expedition set out on its march, and taking its eastward course, proceeded to quarters in Mazamboni’s territory, where it encamped on the 9th of January.

Here the camp was left in the care of Messrs. Stairs, Nelson, and Parke, Stanley himself, full of gloomy forebodings, having determined at once to hasten forward to the Lake, taking with him Mr. Bonny and a small detachment of men. On his arrival the Bakumu this time gave him a hearty welcome, demonstrating their goodwill by bringing in food in abundance, by assisting in building the huts for the night-camp, and generally by rendering whatever help they could.

Still no news was to be learnt from the Nyanza. Where could Emin and Jephson be?

* * * * *

And here it may be well to pause a moment and survey the task that had been accomplished by the man of amazing energy, who with sinews as of steel, had left Yambuya in June 1887, and had now returned for the third time to the Lake Albert Nyanza in January 1889.

[Illustration: CAMP IN THE FOREST.

(_From a Drawing by Molleur._)]

A wonderful record is the story of his marches; the first journey from Yambuya to the Lake, 171 days; the second journey from the Lake to Fort Bodo, 22 days; the third journey from the Fort to the Lake, 20 days; the fourth journey from the Lake to Banalya, 82 days; and then this fifth journey from Banalya back to the Lake, 107 days, making a total of 402 days.

Thus it is seen how for more than thirteen months out of a year and a half the leader was on the constant move, making his way through virgin forests that had neither road nor track; forcing his path through tangled brushwood and over rushing torrents; carrying in his train many thousands of pounds’-weight of goods, provisions, and ammunition; harassed over and over again by warlike and suspicious savages; uncertain as to the means of providing food for his hundreds of followers; exposed to an unhealthy atmosphere; and personally suffering the pangs of hunger and privation. Such was the man who in spite of climate, in spite of hostilities, in spite of famine, in spite of sickness, never swerved from his line of duty and devotion, but faced all difficulties, resolved to overcome them till his work was done. Who shall say that the age of knight-errantry has passed away? Other ages have had their Xenophon, Godfrey de Bouillon, Marco Polo, Columbus, Vasco, and Magellan; the nineteenth century can boast of Stanley. The race of heroes is not yet extinct.

* * * * *

On January 16th, the caravan arrived at the village of Gaviras, at no great distance from the Lake, where some messengers sent by Kavalli handed Stanley a packet of letters. Stanley read them eagerly, but with profound amazement at the disastrous intelligence they contained. The troops of the Equatorial province had mutinied on the 18th of August; Emin and Jephson had been made prisoners; the Mahdists, making a fresh attack in October, had routed the Egyptian force, had taken Rejaf, Kiri, and Laboré, and were now only awaiting reinforcements to renew their advance.

It looked as if all were lost.

As Wolseley had arrived at Khartoum too late to save Gordon, it seemed as though Stanley had reached the Nyanza too late to rescue Emin.