Travels into the Interior of Africa

by Mungo Park

  September 22nd – In the evening, Modibinne and four more of Mansong’s friends arrived in a canoe. They sent for me, and Modibinne told me, that they were come by Mansong’s orders to hear, from my own mouth, what had brought me into Bambarra. He said I might think on it during the night, and they would visit me in the morning; he said Mansong had sent me a bullock, which he showed me: it was very fat, and milk white.

  September 23rd – As soon as we had breakfasted, Modibinne and the four grandees came to visit us. When they had seated themselves, and the usual compliments passed, Modibinne desired me to acquaint them with the motives which had induced me to come into their country. I spoke to them in the Bambarra language as follows: ‘I am the white man who nine years ago came into Bambarra. I then came to Sego, and requested Mansong’s permission to pass to the eastwards; he not only permitted me to pass, but presented me with five thousand cowries to purchase provisions on the road;* for you all know that the Moors had robbed me of my goods. This generous conduct of Mansong towards me has made his name much respected in the land of the white people. The king of that country has sent me again into Bambarra; and if Mansong is inclined to protect me, and you who are here sitting wish to befriend me, I will inform you of the real object of my coming into your country.’

  (Here Modibinne desired me to speak on, as they were all my friends.) ‘You all know that the white people are a trading people; and that all the articles of value, which the Moors and the people of Jinnie bring to Sego, are made by us. If you speak of a good gun who made it? the white people. If you speak of a good pistol or sword, or piece of scarlet or baft, or beads or gunpowder, who made them? the white people. We sell them to the Moors; the Moors bring them to Timbuctoo, where they sell them at a higher rate. The people of Timbuctoo sell them to the people of Jinnie at a still higher price; and the people of Jinnie sell them to you. Now the king of the white people wishes to find out a way by which we may bring our own merchandise to you, and sell everything at a much cheaper rate than you now have them. For this purpose, if Mansong will permit me to pass, I propose sailing down the Joliba to the place where it mixes with the salt water; and if I find no rocks or danger in the way, the white men’s small vessels will come up and trade at Sego, if Mansong wishes it. What I have now spoken, I hope and trust you will not mention to any person, except Mansong and his son; for if the Moors should hear of it, I shall certainly be murdered before I reach the salt water.’

  Modibinne answered: ‘We have heard what you have spoken. Your journey is a good one, and may God prosper you in it; Mansong will protect you. We will carry your words to Mansong this afternoon; and tomorrow we will bring you his answer.’ I made Isaaco show them the different things which I had allotted for Mansong and his son. They were delighted with the tureen, the double-barrelled guns, and in fact everything was far superior to anything of the kind they had ever before seen.

  When I had laid out everything for Mansong and his son, I then made each of the grandees, and Modibinne, a present of scarlet cloth. Modibinne now said that they had seen what I laid out for Mansong and his son, and that the present was great, and worthy of Mansong; but, added he, Mansong has heard so many reports concerning your baggage, that he wishes us to examine it. ‘Such of the bundles as are covered with skin, we will not open; you will tell us what is in them, and that will be sufficient.’ I told them that I had nothing but what was necessary for purchasing provisions; and that it would please me much if they could dispense with opening the bundles. They however persisted; and I ordered the bundles to be brought out, taking care, with the assistance of the soldiers, to secrete all the good amber and coral.

  When all the loads were inspected, I asked Modibinne what he thought of my baggage? If he had seen any more silver tureens, or double-barrelled guns? He said he had seen nothing that was bad, and nothing but what was necessary for purchasing provisions; that he would report the same to Mansong. They accordingly went away to Sego; but without taking Mansong’s present, till they had heard his answer.

  September 24th – Seed and Barber (soldiers) died during the night; one of the fever, the other of the dysentery. Paid the Somonies twenty stones of amber for burying them.

  September 25th – Modibinne and the same people returned with Mansong’s answer, a literal translation of which I give as follows. ‘Mansong says he will protect you; that a road is open for you everywhere, as far as his hand (power) extends. If you wish to go to the east, no man shall harm you from Sego till you pass Timbuctoo. If you wish to go to the west, you may travel through Fooladoo and Manding, through Kasson and Bondou; the name of Mansong’s stranger will be a sufficient protection for you. If you wish to build your boats at Samee or Sego, at Sansanding or Jinnie, name the town, and Mansong will convey you thither.’ He concluded by observing, that Mansong wished me to sell him four of the blunderbusses, three swords, a fiddle (violin) which belonged to Mr Scott, and some Birmingham bead necklaces, which pleased above everything; that he had sent us a bullock, and his son another, with a fine sheep. I told Modibinne that Mansong’s friendship was of more value to me than the articles he had mentioned, and that I would be happy if Mansong would accept them from me as a farther proof of my esteem.

  I made choice of Sansanding for fitting out our canoe, because Mansong had never said he wished to see me, and because I could live quieter and freer from begging than at Sego. I therefore sent down the bullocks by land to Sansanding.

  September 26th – We departed from Samee. The canoes were not covered with mats; and there being no wind, the sun became insufferably hot. I felt myself affected with a violent headache, which increased to such a degree as to make me almost delirious. I never felt so hot a day; there was sensible heat sufficient to have roasted a sirloin; but the thermometer was in a bundle in the other canoe, so that I could not ascertain the actual heat. We passed down a small stream to the north of Sego Korro, and halted opposite to Segosee Korro, near the sand hills, where I formerly waited for a passage. We waited here about an hour for Isaaco, who had gone to Segosee Korro to inform Mansong of our passing. When Isaaco returned, he made a sort of shade over our canoe with four sticks and a couple of cloaks; and in the evening I found myself more collected and less feverish. At sunset we rowed towards the north bank, where there are some flat rocks, on which passengers by water often sleep. We found the place occupied by a number of people. I counted between thirty and forty fires; we therefore passed on a little to the eastwards, and slept on a sandbank covered with verdure.

  September 27th – At daybreak we again proceeded, and in stretching over to gain the middle of the river, we passed a Somoni fishing village on an island; the huts occupied the whole of the dry ground, and it appeared, even when close to it, like a floating village. We reached Sansanding at ten o’clock. Such crowds of people came to the shore to see us, that we could not land our baggage till the people were beaten away with sticks, by Koontie Mamadie’s orders, on whose premises we were accommodated with a large hut for sitting in, having another hut opening into it, in which we deposited our baggage.

  October 2nd – Marshall and W. Garland (privates) died; one of the fever, the other of the dysentery. During the night the wolves carried away Garland, the door of the hut where he died being left open. Buried Marshall on the morning following, in a corn field near the church.

  October 4th – Mansong sent down two broken gunlocks, and a large pewter plate with a hole in the bottom of it, for me to repair; and it was with much difficulty that I could persuade the messenger that none of us knew anything about such occupations.

  October 6th – Da, Mansong’s eldest son, sent one canoe as a present, and requested me to sell him a blunderbuss, and three swords, with some blue and yellow broad cloth. Sent him three swords, and ten spans of yellow cloth; received in return six thousand cowries.

  Sansanding contains, according to Koontie Mamadie’s account, eleven thousand inhabitants. It has no public buildings, except the mosques, two of which, thoug
h built of mud, are by no means inelegant. The marketplace is a large square, and the different articles of merchandise are exposed for sale on stalls covered with mats, to shade them from the sun. The market is crowded with people from morning to night: some of the stalls contain nothing but beads; others indigo in balls; others wood-ashes in balls; others Houssa and Jinnie cloth. I observed one stall with nothing but antimony in small bits; another with sulphur, and a third with copper and silver rings and bracelets. In the houses fronting the square is sold scarlet, amber, silks from Morocco, and tobacco, which looks like Levant tobacco, and comes by way of Timbuctoo. Adjoining this is the salt market, part of which occupies one corner of the square. A slab of salt is sold commonly for eight thousand cowries; a large butcher’s stall, or shade, is in the centre of the square, and as good and fat meat sold every day as any in England. The beer market is at a little distance, under two large trees; and there are often exposed for sale from eighty to one hundred calabashes of beer, each containing about two gallons. Near the beer market is the place where red and yellow leather is sold.

  Besides these marketplaces, there is a very large space, which is appropriated for the great market every Tuesday. On this day astonishing crowds of people come from the country to purchase articles in wholesale, and retail them in the different villages, etc There are commonly from sixteen to twenty large fat Moorish bullocks killed on the market morning.

  October 8th – As Mansong had delayed much longer in sending the canoes he promised than I expected, I thought it best to be provided with a sufficient quantity of shells to purchase two; particularly when I reflected that the river would subside in the course of a few days, having sunk this morning about four inches by the shore. I therefore opened shop in great style, and exhibited a choice assortment of European articles to be sold in wholesale or retail. I had of course a great run, which I suppose drew on me the envy of my brother merchants; for the Jinnie people, the Moors, and the merchants here joined with those of the same description at Sego, and (in presence of Modibinne, from whose mouth I had it) offered to give Mansong a quantity of merchandise of greater value than all the presents I had made him, if he would seize our baggage, and either kill us, or send us back again out of Bambarra. They alleged, that my object was to kill Mansong and his sons by means of charms, that the white people might come and seize on the country. Mansong, much to his honour, rejected the proposal, though it was seconded by two-thirds of the people of Sego, and almost all Sansanding.

  From the 8th to the 16th nothing of consequence occurred. I found my shop every day more and more crowded with customers; and such was my run of business, that I was sometimes forced to employ three tellers at once to count my cash. I turned one market day twenty-five thousand seven hundred and fifty-six pieces of money (cowries).

  The second day after my arrival at Marraboo, as no accounts whatever had arrived concerning Mr Scott, I sent a messenger to Koomikoomi, desiring him to bring Mr Scott, or some account of him. He returned in four days, and told us that Mr Scott was dead, and that the natives had stolen the pistols out of the holsters; but he had brought the horse to Bambakoo.

  When Modibinne enquired of Isaaco what sort of a return of presents would be most agreeable to me, Isaaco (being instructed before) said he believed two large canoes, and Modibinne assured me, that the canoes would be sent down to Sansading immediately on our arrival there.

  October 16th – Modibinne and Jower arrived, and told me that they had brought a canoe from Mansong. I went to see it, and objected to one half of it, which was quite rotten. They sent up to Sego for another half; but when it arrived, it would not fit the one already sent. I was therefore forced to send Isaaco again to Sego; and as Mansong had requested me by Modibinne to sell him any spare arms I might have, I sent two blunder-busses, two fowling-pieces, two pair of pistols, and five unserviceable muskets; requesting in return that Mansong would either send a proper canoe, or permit me to purchase one that I might proceed on my journey. Isaaco returned on the 20th with a large canoe; but half of it was very much decayed and patched. I therefore set about joining the best half to the half formerly sent; and with the assistance of Abraham Bolton (private) took out all the rotten pieces; and repaired all the holes, and sewed places; and with eighteen days’ hard labour, changed the Bambarra canoe into His Majesty’s schooner Joliba; the length forty feet, breadth six feet; being flat bottomed, draws only one foot water when loaded.

  October 28th – At a quarter-past five o’clock in the morning my dear friend Mr Alexander Anderson died after a sickness of four months. I feel much inclined to speak of his merits; but as his worth was known only to a few friends, I will rather cherish his memory in silence, and imitate his cool and steady conduct, than weary my friends with a panegyric in which they cannot be supposed to join. I shall only observe that no event which took place during the journey ever threw the smallest gloom over my mind, till I laid Mr Anderson in the grave. I then felt myself as if left a second time lonely and friendless amidst the wilds of Africa.

  November 14th – The schooner is now nearly ready for our departure; I only wait for Isaaco’s return from Sego, that I may give him this paper in charge.

  November 15th – Isaaco returned; and told us that Mansong was anxious that I should depart as soon as possible, before the Moors to the east had intimation of my coming. Bought bullock hides to form an awning to secure us from the spears and arrows of the Surka or Soorka and Mahinga who inhabit the north bank of the river betwixt Jinnie and Timbuctoo.

  November 16th – All ready and we sail tomorrow morning, or evening.

  * Thus in Mr Park’s manuscript

  Afterword to the Second Journey

  CONTRARY TO HIS CONFIDENT ASSERTION in that last journal entry that ‘we sail tomorrow morning, or evening’, Park remained at Sansanding. The following day, 17 November 1805, he wrote to Lord Camden in London with the sad news ‘that of forty-four Europeans, who left the Gambia River in perfect health, five only are at present alive; namely, three soldiers, (one deranged in his mind,) Lieutenant Martyn, and myself.’ Park knew just how grim this report would appear and so was quick to point out that although so many had died, they had been killed by the climate, not by hostile Africans. The plan to open a trade route from the Gambia to Niger rivers was still viable – but not in the rainy season. And putting a positive spin on his situation, he wrote that he ‘was far from desponding … I shall set sail to the east with the fixed resolution to discover the termination of the Niger or perish in the attempt.’

  Two days later, on 19 November, he wrote another letter to his wife, announcing the death of her brother, Alexander Anderson.

  I am afraid that, impressed with a woman’s fears, and the anxieties of a wife, you may be led to consider my situation as a great deal worse than it really is. It is true my dear friends Mr Anderson and George Scott, have both bid adieu to the things of this world; and the greater part of the soldiers have died on the march during the rainy season; but you may believe me, I am in good health. The rains are completely over, and the healthy season has commenced, so that there is no danger of sickness; and I have still a sufficient force to protect me from any insult in sailing down the river to the sea.

  We have already embarked all our things, and shall sail the moment I have finished this letter. I do not intend to stop or land anywhere, till we reach the coast; which I suppose will be some time in the end of January. We shall then embark in the first vessel for England. If we have to go round by the West Indies, the voyage will occupy three months longer; so that we expect to be in England on the first of May. The reason of our delay since we left the coast was the rainy season, which came on us during the journey; and almost all the soldiers became affected with the fever.

  I think it not unlikely but I shall be in England before you receive this. You may be sure that I feel happy at turning my face towards home. We this morning have done with all intercourse with the natives; and the sails are now hoisting for our d
eparture for the coast.

  What were his chances of success? The weather was no longer a problem – they were now in the travelling season. He was boarding ship with sacks of cowrie shells, the local currency, plenty of arms, goods to trade for necessities and a store of provisions. With him was Lieutenant Martyn, three soldiers, three slaves and a guide. Isaaco, the man who had guided him from the start, was now returning to the Gambia River – and taking Park’s letters and journal with him – but another guide, Amadi Fatouma, was going with him for the next stage of the journey.

  Park seems to have had little help from Lieutenant Martyn and the three surviving soldiers. Martyn’s state of mind can be gauged from a letter he wrote home just before leaving Sansanding. ‘Thunder, Death and Lightening: the Devil to pay,’ he began, listing the deaths along the way and then finding consolation in the ‘Excellent living since we came here, the Beef and Mutton as good as was ever eat. Whitbreads [sic] Beer is nothing to what we get here … my head is a little sore this morning – was up late last night drinking Ale in company with a Moor who has been at Gibraltar and speaks English – got a little tipsy – finished the scene by giving the Moor a damned good thrashing.’