Chapter XXIV (1)

IMPRISONMENT OF EMIN PASHA AND MR. JEPHSON.

Our reception at Fort Bodo--Lieut. Stairs’ report of what took
place at the Fort during our relief of the rear column--No news of
Jephson--Muster of our men--We burn the Fort and advance to find
Emin and Jephson--Camp at Kandekoré--Parting words to Lieut. Stairs
and Surgeon Parke, who are left in charge of the sick--Mazamboni
gives us news of Emin and Jephson--Old Gavira escorts us--Two
Wahuma messengers bring letters from Emin and Jephson--Their
contents--My replies to the same handed to Chief Mogo for
delivery--The Balegga attack us, but, with the help of the Bavira,
are repulsed--Mr. Jephson turns up--We talk of Emin--Jephson’s
report bearing upon the revolt of the troops of Equatoria, also his
views respecting the invasion of the province by the Mahdists, and
its results--Emin Pasha sends through Mr. Jephson an answer to my
last letter.

[Sidenote: 1888.

Dec. 20.

Fort Bodo.]

Those who have read the pitiful tale of the rear column will no doubt be curious to know how we re-entered Fort Bodo, which was only garrisoned with fifty-nine rifles, after six months’ absence. With my heart filled with joy and gratitude I was escorted up the western avenue, glad men leaping around me like spaniels, the Doctor imparting the most cheery news; prosperous fields of corn on either hand, and goodly crops everywhere; fenced squares, a neat village, clean streets, and every one I met--white and black--in perfect health, except a few incurables. Nelson was quite recovered, the dark shadow of the starvation camp was entirely gone, and the former martial tread and manly bearing had been regained; and Stairs, the officer _par excellence_, was precisely what he ought to have been--the one who always obeyed and meant to obey.

Lieutenant Stairs possessed 24,000 ears of corn in his granary, the plantation was still bearing plantains and sweet potatoes and beans, there was a good crop of tobacco; the stream in the neighbourhood supplied fish--siluroids--and between officers and men there existed the very best of feeling. He had not been free from trouble; troops of elephants had invaded the fort, native plunderers by night had robbed him of stores of tobacco, a mild benevolence had brought on the plantation a host of pygmies, but at once alertness and firmness had made him respected and feared by pigmies, aborigines, and Zanzibaris, and in every wise suggestion his comrades had concurred and aided him. The admirable and welcome letter herewith given speaks for itself--

Fort Bodo, Ibwiri, Central Africa, _21st December, 1888_.

H. M. STANLEY, ESQ., Command of Emin Pasha Relief Expedition.

SIR,

I have the honour to report that, in accordance with your letter of
instructions, dated Fort Bodo, June 13th, 1888, I took over the
charge of Fort Bodo and its garrison.

The strength of the garrison was then as follows:--Officers, 3;
Zanzibaris, 51; Soudanese, 5; Madis, 5; total, 64.

Soon after your departure from Yambuya, the natives in the
immediate vicinity became excessively bold and aggressive; gangs of
them would come into the plantations nearly every day searching for
plantains, and at last a party of them came into the gardens east
of the Fort at night-time and made off with a quantity of tobacco
and beans. On the night of the 21st August they again attempted to
steal more tobacco; this time, however, the sentries were on the
alert. The lesson they received had the effect of making the
natives less bold, but still our bananas were being taken at a
great rate. I now found it necessary to send out three parties of
patrols per week; these had as much as they could do to keep out
the natives and elephants. If fires were not made every few days
the elephants came into the bananas, and would destroy in a single
night some acres of plantation.

By November 1st we had got the natives well in hand, and at this
time I do not believe a single native camp exists within eight
miles of the Fort. Those natives to the S.S.E. of the Fort gave us
the most trouble, and were the last to move away from our
plantations.

At the end of July we all expected the arrival of Mr. Mounteney
Jephson from the Albert Nyanza to relieve the garrison, and convey
our goods on to the Lake shore. Day after day, however, passed
away, and no sign of him or news from him reaching us made many of
the men more and more restless as each day passed. Though most of
the men wished to remain at the Fort till relief turned up, either
in the shape of Mr. Jephson or yourself, still some eight or ten
discontented ones, desirous of reaching the Lake and partaking of
the plenty there, were quite ready at any time to desert the loads,
the white men, and sick.

Seeing how things stood I treated the men at all times with the
greatest leniency, and did whatever I could to make their life at
the Fort as easy for them as was possible.

Shortly after the time of Mr. Jephson’s expected arrival, some of
the men came to me and asked for a “shauri;” this I granted. At
this shauri the following propositions were made by one of the men
(Ali Juma), and assented to by almost every one of the Zanzibaris
present.

I. To leave the Fort, march on to the Lake by way of Mazamboni’s
country, making double trips, and so get on all the loads to the
Lake and have plenty of food.

II. Or, to send say fifteen couriers with a letter to the edge of
the plain, there to learn if the Bandusuma were still our friends
or no; if unfriendly, then to return to the Fort; if friendly, then
the couriers would take on the letter to Mr. Jephson, and relief
would come.

To the first proposal I replied:--

(1.) Mr. Stanley told me not to move across the plain, whatever
else I did, without outside aid.

(2.) Did not Mr. Stanley tell Emin Pasha it was not safe to cross
the plains, even should the natives be friendly, without sixty
guns?

(3.) We had only thirty strong men, the rest were sick; we should
lose our loads and sick men.

We all lived on the best of terms after I had told them we could
not desert the Fort. We went on hoeing up the ground and planting
corn and other crops, as if we expected a prolonged occupation. On
the 1st September a severe hurricane accompanied by hail passed
over the Fort, destroying fully 60 per cent. of the standing corn,
and wrecking the banana plantations to such an extent that at least
a month passed before the trees commenced to send up young shoots.
Had it not been for this we should have had great quantities of
corn; but as it was I was only able to give each man ten corns per
week. The weakly ones, recommended by Dr. Parke, got one cup of
shelled corn each per day. At one time we had over thirty men
suffering from ulcers, but, through the exertion of Dr. Parke, all
their ulcers on your arrival had healed up with the exception of
some four.

Eight deaths occurred from the time of your departure up to the
20th December, two were killed by arrows, and two were captured by
natives.

In all matters where deliberation was necessary the other officers
and myself took part. We were unanimous in our determination to
await your arrival, knowing that you were using every endeavour to
bring relief to us as speedily as possible.

On the 20th December I handed over the charge of the Fort to you,
and on the 21st the goods entrusted to my care.

I have the honour to be, Sir, Your obedient servant, (Signed) W. G. STAIRS, Lieut. R.E.

[Sidenote: 1888.

Dec. 21.

Fort Bodo.]

We were now left to conjecture what had become of the energetic Jephson, the man of action, who had been nick-named _Buburika_, or the Cheetah, because he was so quick and eager, and strained at the leash. No small matter would have detained him, even if the Pasha after all thought that a long journey to Fort Bodo was unnecessary.

But the fact that neither had been heard of placed us in a dilemma. We had fifty-five extra loads to carry, over and above the number of carriers, of absolutely necessary property. After a little midnight mental deliberation I resolved to make double marches between Fort Bodo and the Ituri River on the edge of the plains, leave Lieutenant Stairs and officers and sick at the well-furnished clearing of Kandekoré, and march to the Nyanza to search for Emin Pasha and Mr. Mounteney Jephson. This would probably cause me to exceed my original estimate of time by ten days. But what can one do when every plan is thwarted by some unlucky accident or another? Fort Bodo had been reached two days before the stipulated time. If I arrived at the Nyanza by January 26 I should be ten days behind time.

On the 21st of December all this was explained to the men, and that fifty-five men must volunteer to do double duty, but for every camp made by them twice over I should pay for the extra work in cloth. Volunteers responded readily at this, and the difficulty of carrying the extra fifty-five loads of ammunition vanished.

At the muster on the 22nd of December there were present in the Fort--209 Zanzibaris, 17 Soudanese, 1 Somali, 151 Manyuema and followers, 26 Madis, 2 Lados, 6 whites; total 412. Therefore the journey from Banalya to Fort Bodo had cost 106 lives, of whom 38 belonged to the rear column.

On the 23rd we set out from Fort Bodo, and on the next day Captain Nelson, having buried the Pasha’s big demijohn, some broken rifles, &c., set fire to the Fort and joined us.

[Sidenote: 1889.

Jan. 2.

Indenduru.]

Christmas Day and the day after we foraged for the double journeys, and on the 27th Stairs was pushed forward with one hundred rifles to occupy the ferry at the Ituri River, with orders, after making himself snug, to send back fifty-five men to our Cross Roads camp. Meantime, being very dilapidated in clothing, the Doctor and I tailored to make ourselves respectable for the grass-land.

On the 2nd of January, while waiting for the contingent from Stairs, a Soudanese, gathering fuel only 150 yards from camp, received five arrows in his back, which were extracted after tremendous exertion by the Doctor--two of the arrows being so deeply fixed in bone and muscle that the wounded man was almost raised from the ground. A sixth arrow was found two months later. The man ultimately recovered, to die close to Bagamoyo nearly a year later.

On the next day the fifty-five men returned from Stairs with a note reporting all was well at Ituri, and that he was hopeful of a pacific conclusion to the negotiations with the natives of Kandokoré, and on the 4th of the month at noon we moved from Cross Roads Camp. Six hours’ march on the 5th brought us to West Indenduru. The 6th we reached Central Indenduru, and on the 7th we were in the Bakwuru village at the foot of Pisgah, in view of the grass-land, at which the men of the rear column and the Manyuema were never tired of gazing and wondering. On the 9th we crossed the Ituri River and established a camp in the village of Kandekoré on the east side.

The next day all hands were set to work to make a camp, to clear the bush around, for natives are accustomed to let it grow right up to the eaves of their huts to enable them to retreat unperceived in case of danger.

In the evening after dinner Lieutenant Stairs and Surgeon Parke were called to my tent, and I addressed them as to their duties during my absence. Said I--

“Gentlemen, I have called you to give you a few parting words.

“You know as well as I do that there is a constant unseen influence
at work creating an anxiety which has sometimes tempted us to
despair. No plan, however clear and intelligible it may be, but is
thwarted and reversed. No promises are fulfilled, instructions are
disregarded, suggestions are unavailing, and so we are constantly
labouring to correct and make amends for this general waywardness
which pursues us. We are no sooner out of one difficulty than we
are face to face with another, and we are subjected to everlasting
stress and strains of appalling physical miseries, and absolute
decimation. It is as clear to you as to me why these things are
so. They will go on and continue so, unless I can gather the
fragments of this Expedition together once and for all, and keep it
together, never to be separated again. But each time I have wished
to do so, the inability of the men to march, the necessity of
hurrying to one place and then to another, keep us eternally
detached. After bringing the rear column, and uniting it with the
advance, and collecting your garrison at Fort Bodo, we are
astonished at this total absence of news from Jephson and the
Pasha. Now I cannot manœuvre with a hospital in tow, such as we
have with us. At the muster of to-day, after inspection, there were
124 men suffering from ulcers, debility, weakness, dysentery, and
much else. They cannot march, they cannot carry. Jephson and the
Pasha are perhaps waiting for me. It is now January 10th, I
promised to be on the Nyanza again, even if I went as far as
Yambuya, by the 16th, I have six days before me. You see how I am
pulled this way and that way. If I could trust you to obey me, obey
every word literally, that you would not swerve one iota from the
path laid down, I could depart from you with confidence, and find
out what is the matter with Jephson and the Pasha.”

[Sidenote: 1889.

Jan. 10.

Kandekoré.]

“I don’t see why you should doubt us. I am sure we have always
tried to do our very best to please and satisfy you,” replied
Stairs.

“That is strictly true, and I am most grateful to you for it. The
case of Yambuya seems to be repeated. Our friend Jephson is absent,
perhaps dead from fever or from some accident; but why do we not
hear from the Pasha? Therefore we surmise that some other trouble
has overtaken both. Well, I set out for the Nyanza, and either send
or cause to hear the news, or cut my way through Melindwa to behind
Mswa Station to discover the cause of this strange silence. Have
the Mahdists come up river, and annihilated everybody, or has
another Expedition reached them from the East, and they are all too
busy attending to them to think of their promise to us? Which is
it? No one can answer, but because of this mystery we cannot sit
down to let the mystery unfold itself, and I can do nothing towards
penetrating it with 124 men, who require a long rest to recover
from their fatigues and sicknesses. Therefore I am compelled to
trust to you and the doctor, that you will stay here until I know
what has happened, whether for one month or two months. I want you
to stay here and look after the camp alertly, and I want the doctor
to attend to these sick men and cure them, not to stint medicines,
but nurse them with good food from morning until night. Do you
promise this faithfully, on your words as gentlemen?”

“We do,” replied both warmly.

“Now Doctor, I particularly address myself to you. Stairs will
perform all that is required as Superintendent and Governor of the
camp, but I look to you mostly. These 124 men are on the sick list,
some are but slightly indisposed, and some are in a dreadful state.
But they all require attention, and you must give it devotedly. You
must see that your worst cases are fed regularly. Three times a day
see that their food is prepared, and that it is given to them;
trust no man’s word, see to it yourself in person; we want these
men to reach home. I warn you solemnly that your ‘flood-tide of
opportunity’ has come. Are you ambitious of distinction? Here is
your chance; seize it. Your task is clear before you, and you are
required to save these men, who will be the means of taking you
home, and of your receiving the esteem of all who shall hear of
your deeds.

[Sidenote: 1889.

Jan. 10.

Kandekoré.]

“Gentlemen, the causes of failure in this world are that men are
unable to see the thing that lies ready at their hands. They look
over their work and forget their tasks, in attempting to do what is
not wanted. Before I left England I received some hundreds of
applications from volunteers to serve with me on this Expedition.
They at least believed that they could win what men vulgarly call
‘kudos,’ though I do not believe that one in a thousand of them
knew what is the true way to glory. For instance, there are only
six whites here in this camp, yet one of the six sought me the
other night to request permission to explore the Welle-Mubangi
River--of all places in Africa! His duty was clearly before him,
and yet he did not see it. His opportunities were unheeded. He cast
yearning looks over and above what was right at his feet. He seemed
as if wakened out of a dream when I told him that to escort
refugees to their homes was a far nobler task than any number of
discoveries. On this Expedition there was a man who received a
salary for being loyal and devoted to me, yet when there were
opportunities for distinguishing himself, he allowed his employer’s
baggage to be sent away before his very eyes, and his own rations
to be boxed up, and sent out of camp, and he never knew until told
that he had lost his opportunities to gain credit, increase of
salary, and promotion. I point out your opportunities, therefore
hold fast to them with a firm grip; do all you can with might and
main to make the most of them. Don’t think of ‘kudos,’ or ‘glory,’
but of your work. All your capital is in that; it will give you
great or little profit, as you perform it. Good-night. To-morrow I
go to do something, I know not what, and do not care until I hear
what it is I have to do. As I will do mine, do yours.”

The next morning, after encouraging remarks to the invalids, we set out from Kandekoré in the territory of the Bakuba, and in forty-five minutes we had emerged out of the bush, to the immense delight and wonder of such of the rear column and Manyuema as had not seen the glorious land before.

On the 12th we reached Bessé, and were well received by our native friends. They informed us that the Pasha was building big houses at Nyamsassi, and the rumour was that he and many followers intended to pass through the land. As we had been very anxious, this piece of good news was hailed with great satisfaction.

[Sidenote: 1889.

Jan. 14.

Undussuma.]

We camped the day following in a vale a little north of Mukangi, and on the 14th we reached our old camp in Mazamboni’s country. It was not long before Mazamboni, and Katto his brother, and his inseparable cousin Kalengé, appeared, and in reply to our eager questioning, informed us that Jephson had reached Kavalli’s the day before yesterday (12th); that Hailallah, a boy deserter, was in charge of Kavalli, and had grown as tall as a spear. We were also told that _Maleju_ (the Pasha) had despatched ten men to Kavalli’s to obtain news of us, and that he had caused some fields to be cultivated near the lake, and had planted corn for our use. “What a good, thoughtful, kind man he must be!” we mentally remarked.

As Mazamboni presented us with two fat beeves, it was essential that the Zanzibaris, and the Manyuema should be indulged a little after long abstinence from flesh. We accordingly halted on the 15th, and during the day Chief Gavira came in and imparted the intelligence that Jephson had arrived at Katonza’s village three days before with seventeen soldiers; and our people, who were now well supplied with cloth for extra labour, and five doti each from Banalya, besides beads, cowries, and wire, were able to invest in luxuries to their hearts’ content. The Manyuema smiled blandly, and the Zanzibaris had contracted a habit, as they had scented the grass-lands, of crowing, which when once started was imitated by nearly 300 people.

Old Gavira escorted us the next day, on the 16th, the date I should have been on the Nyanza, and by the afternoon we were in one of the old villages which was once burned by us, and which was again clean and new and prosperous, and we welcome and honoured guests, only one long day’s march from the Lake.

Now that we were actually out of the forest, and only one thing more to do--since both the Pasha and Mr. Jephson were on the Lake shore just below us, according to the native--viz., to deliver the ammunition into the Pasha’s hands, and escort a few Egyptians home, Old Gavira had reason to suppose that afternoon that “Bula Matari” was a very amiable person.

[Sidenote: 1889.

Jan. 16.

Gavira’s.]

But at 5 P.M. two Wahuma messengers came with letters from Kavalli’s, and as I read them a creeping feeling came over me which was a complete mental paralysis for the time, and deadened all the sensations except that of unmitigated surprise. When I recovered myself the ears of Jephson and the Pasha must certainly have tingled. I need not criminate myself, however, and any person of any imagination may conceive what I must have felt after he has read the following letters:--

LETTER FROM EMIN.

Dufflé, _2nd September, 1888_.

DEAR SIR,

Mr. Jephson having been obliged to accompany some officers who
start to see you, I profit of the occasion to tender you with my
best wishes, hearty congratulations for the safe arrival of your
Expedition, of which we have heard only by our boys, our letters
being rigorously withheld from us. Mr. Jephson, who has been of
good help to me, under very trying circumstances, will tell you
what has happened, and is likewise able to give you the benefit of
his experience, and to make some suggestions, should you decide to
come here as people wish. In the case of your coming, you will
greatly oblige me by taking measures for the safety of my little
girl, about whom I feel most anxious.

Should, however, you decide not to come, that I can only wish you a
good and safe return to your country, and at the same time I may be
permitted to request you to tender my cordial thanks to your
officers and your people, and my heartfelt acknowledgment to those
kind hearted benefactors in England by whose generosity the
Expedition was started.

Believe me, Dear Sir, to be, Yours very sincerely, (Signed) DR. EMIN.

* * * * *

2ND LETTER FROM EMIN.

Dufflé, 6, 11, 88.--Since the foregoing was written I have been
always a prisoner here. Twice we heard you had come in, but it was
not true. Now, the Mahdi’s people having come up, and Rejaf Station
having been taken, we may be attacked some day or other, and there
seems only a few hours of our escaping. However, we hope yet.
To-day I have heard the soldiers from Muggi started yesterday for
Rejaf, and if they are defeated, as without any doubt they will be,
the Khartoum people will be here very quickly.

Mr. Jephson has acquainted me with the letter he wrote to you, and
I think there is nothing to be joined to it.[2]

Yours very sincerely, (Signed) DR. EMIN.

* * * * *

3RD LETTER FROM EMIN.

Tunguru, _21st December, 1888_.

DEAR MR. STANLEY,

Mr. Jephson having told to you whatever has happened here after we
left Dufflé, I refrain from repeating the narrative.[3] Although
for a moment there happened a movement in my favour, the officers,
elated with their victory, soon were just as bad as they were in
the beginning of this comedy. Everyone is now fully decided to
leave the country for finding a shelter somewhere. Nobody thinks,
however, of going to Egypt, except, perhaps, a few officers and
men. I am, nevertheless, not without hope of better days; but I
join my entreaties with those of Mr. Jephson asking you to stay
where you are, viz., at Kavalli’s, and to send only word of your
arrival as quickly as you can.

Chief Mogo, the bearer of this and Mr. Jephson’s letter, has my
orders to remain at Kavalli’s until you arrive. He is a good and
true fellow, and you will oblige me by looking after him.

With the best wishes for you and all your people,

I am, Yours very sincerely, (Signed) DR. EMIN.

* * * * *

LETTERS OF MR. JEPHSON.

Dufflé, _7th November, 1888_.

DEAR SIR,

I am writing to tell you of the position of affairs in this
country, and I trust Shukri Aga will be able by some means to
deliver this letter to Kavalli in time to warn you to be careful.

On August 18th a rebellion broke out here, and the Pasha and I were
made prisoners. The Pasha is a complete prisoner, but I am allowed
to go about the station, though my movements are watched. The
rebellion has been got up by some half dozen officers and clerks,
chiefly Egyptians, and gradually others have joined; some through
inclination, but most through fear; the soldiers, with the
exception of those at Laboré, have never taken part in it, but have
quietly given in to their officers. The two prime promoters of the
rebellion were two Egyptians, who we heard afterwards had gone and
complained to you at Nsabé. One was the Pasha’s adjutant, Abdul
Vaal Effendi, who was formerly concerned in Arabi’s rebellion; the
other was Achmet Effendi Mahmoud, a one-eyed clerk. These two and
some others, when the Pasha and I were on our way to Rejaf, went
about and told the people they had seen you, and that you were only
an adventurer, and had not come from Egypt; that the letters you
had brought from the Khedive and Nubar Pasha were forgeries; that
it was untrue that Khartoum had fallen, and that the Pasha and you
had made a plot to take them, their wives and children out of the
country, and hand them over to slaves to the English. Such words,
in an ignorant and fanatical country like this, acted like fire
amongst the people, and the result was a general rebellion, and we
were made prisoners.

The rebels then collected officers from the different stations, and
held a large meeting here to determine what measures they should
take, and all those who did not join in the movement were so
insulted and abused, that they were obliged for their own safety to
acquiesce in what was done. The Pasha was deposed, and those
officers who were suspected of being friendly to him were removed
from their posts, and those friendly to the rebels were put in
their places. It was decided to take the Pasha away as a prisoner
to Rejaf, and some of the worst rebels were even for putting him in
irons, but the officers were afraid to put these plans into
execution, as the soldiers said they would never permit any one to
lay a hand on him. Plans were also made to entrap you when you
returned, and strip you of all you had.

Things were in this condition when we were startled by the news
that the Mahdi’s people had arrived at Lado with three steamers
and nine sandals and nuggars, and had established themselves on the
site of the old station. Omar Sale, their general, sent down three
peacock dervishes with a letter to the Pasha demanding the instant
surrender of the country. The rebel officers seized them and put
them in prison, and decided on war. After a few days the Donagla
attacked and captured Rejaf, killing five officers and numbers of
soldiers, and taking many women and children prisoners, and all the
stores and ammunition in the station were lost. The result of this
was a general stampede of people from the stations of Bidden,
Kirri, and Muggi, who fled with their women and children to Laboré,
abandoning almost everything. At Kirri the ammunition was
abandoned, and was at once seized by the natives. The Pasha reckons
that the Donagla numbers about 1,500.

The officers and a large number of soldiers have returned to Muggi,
and intend to make a stand against the Donagla. Our position here
is extremely unpleasant, for since this rebellion all is chaos and
confusion; there is no head, and half a dozen conflicting orders
are given every day, and no one obeys; the rebel officers are
wholly unable to control the soldiers. We are daily expecting some
catastrophe to happen, for the Baris have joined the Donagla, and
if they come down here with a rush nothing can save us. After the
fall of Rejaf, the soldiers cursed their officers and said, “If we
had obeyed our Governor, and had done what he told us, we should
now be safe; he has been a father and a mother to us all these
years; but instead of listening to him we listened to you, and now
we are lost.”

The officers are all very much frightened at what has happened, and
we are now anxiously awaiting your arrival, and desire to leave the
country with you, for they are now really persuaded that Khartoum
has fallen, and that you have come from the Khedive. The greater
part of the officers and all the soldiers wish to reinstate the
Pasha in his place, but the Egyptians are afraid that if he is
reinstated vengeance will fall on their heads, so they have
persuaded the Soudanese officers not to do so. The soldiers refuse
to act with their officers, so everything is at a standstill, and
nothing is being done for the safety of the station, either in the
way of fortifying or provisioning it. We are like rats in a trap;
they will neither let us act nor retire, and I fear unless you come
very soon you will be too late, and our fate will be like that of
the rest of the garrisons of the Soudan. Had this rebellion not
happened, the Pasha could have kept the Donagla in check for some
time, but as it is he is powerless to act.

I would make the following suggestions concerning your movements
when you arrive at Kavalli’s, which, of course, you will only adopt
if you think fit.

On your arrival at Kavalli’s, if you have a sufficient force with
you, leave all unnecessary loads in charge of some officers and men
there, and you yourself come to Nsabé, bringing with you as many
men as you can; bring the Soudanese officers, but not the soldiers,
with you.

Despatch natives in a canoe to Mswa with a letter in Arabic to
Shukri Aga, telling him of your arrival, and telling him you wish
to see the Pasha and myself, and write also to the Pasha or myself
telling us number of men you have with you; it would, perhaps, be
better to write to me, as a letter to him might be confiscated.

On no account have anything to do with people who come to you
unaccompanied by either the Pasha or myself, whoever they are, or
however fair their words may be. Neither the Pasha nor I think
there is the slightest danger now of any attempt to capture you
being made, for the people are now fully persuaded you come from
Egypt, and they look to you to get them out of their difficulties;
still it would be well for you to make your camp strong.

If we are not able to get out of the country, please remember me to
my friends. With kindest wishes to yourself and all with you,

I am, Yours faithfully, (Signed) A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON. TO H. M. STANLEY, ESQ., Commander of the Relief Expedition.

* * * * *

[Sidenote: 1889.

Jan. 16.

Nyanza.]

Wadelai, _November 24th, 1888_.

My messenger having not yet left Wadelai, I add this postscript, as
the Pasha wishes me to send my former letter to you in its
entirety, as it gives a fair description of our position at the
time I wrote, when we hardly expected to be ever able to get out of
the country. Shortly after I had written to you, the soldiers were
led by their officers to attempt to retake Rejaf, but the Donagla
defeated them, and killed six officers and a large number of
soldiers; amongst the officers killed were some of the Pasha’s
worst enemies. The soldiers in all the stations were so
panic-stricken and angry at what had happened that they declared
they would not attempt to fight unless the Pasha was set at
liberty; so the rebel officers were obliged to free him and sent us
to Wadelai, where he is free to do as he pleases, but at present he
has not resumed his authority in the country; he is, I believe, by
no means anxious to do so. We hope in a few days to be at Tunguru,
a station on the Lake two days by steamer from Nsabé, and I trust
when we hear of your arrival that the Pasha himself will be able to
come down with me to see you.

Shukri Aga tells us he has everything ready against your arrival,
in the shape of cattle, goats, chickens, corn, etc.; he has behaved
capitally throughout this rebellion, and is the only chief of
station who has been able to stand against the rebels.

Our danger, as far as the Donagla are concerned, is, of course,
increased by this last defeat, but our position is in one way
better now, for we are further removed from them, and we have now
the option of retiring if we please, which we had not before when
we were prisoners. We hear that the Donagla have sent steamers down
to Khartoum for reinforcements; if so, they cannot be up for
another six weeks; meantime I hope that until the reinforcements
arrive they will not care to come so far from their base as Wadelai
or Tunguru. If they do, it will be all up with us, for the soldiers
will never stand against them, and it will be a mere walk over.

These people are not the same sort that the soldiers fought three
years ago, but are regular fanatics, and come on with a rush,
cutting down men with their long sharp swords and broad spears.
Every one is anxiously looking for your arrival, the coming of the
Donagla has completely cowed them. Everything now rests on what the
Donagla decided on doing. If they follow up their victories and
come after us, we are lost, as I said before, for I do not think
the people will allow us to retire from the country; but if the
Donagla have sent down to Khartoum for reinforcements, and have
decided to wait for the arrival of their reinforcements, then we
may just manage to get out if you do not come later than the end of
December, but it is utterly impossible to foresee what will happen.

A. J. M. J.

Tunguru, _December 18th, 1888_.

DEAR SIR,--

Mogo not having yet started I send a second postscript in order to
give you the latest news I can. We are now at Tunguru. On November
25th the Donagla surrounded Dufflé and besieged it for four days,
but the soldiers, of whom there were some 500 in the station,
managed at last to repulse them, and they retired to Rejaf, which
is their headquarters. They have sent down to Khartoum for
reinforcements, and doubtless will again attack and take the
country when they are strengthened. In our flight from Wadelai I
was asked by the officers to destroy our boat lest it should fall
into the hands of the Donagla; I therefore broke it up, as we were
unable to save it.

Dufflé is being evacuated as fast as possible, and it is the
intention of the officers to collect at Wadelai, and to decide on
what steps they shall next take. The Pasha is unable to move hand
or foot, as there is still a very strong party against him, and the
officers are no longer in immediate fear of the Mahdi’s people.

Do not on any account come down to Nsabé, but make your camp at
Kavalli’s; send a letter directly you arrive, and as soon as we
hear of your arrival I will come down to you. I will not disguise
the fact from you that you will have a difficult and dangerous task
before you in dealing with the Pasha’s people. I trust you will
arrive before the Donagla return, or our case will be desperate.

I am, yours faithfully, (Signed) A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON.

* * * * *

MY REPLY TO MR. JEPHSON.

Camp at Gavira’s, one day from Nyanza, and one day’s march east of Mazamboni’s.

_January 17th, 1889._

MY DEAR JEPHSON,--

Your letter of November 7th, 1888, with two postscripts, one dated
November 24th, and the other dated December 18th, is to hand and
contents noted.

I will not criticise your letter nor discuss any of its contents. I
wish to be brief, and promptly act; with that view I present you
with a _précis_ of events connected with our journey.

We separated from the Pasha on the 23rd of May last, with the
understanding that in about two months you, with or without the
Pasha, would start for Fort Bodo with sufficient porters to take
the goods at the Fort and convey them to the Nyanza, the Pasha
expressing himself anxious to see Mt. Pisgah and our Fort, and, if
words may be relied on, he was anxious to assist us in his own
relief. We somewhat doubted whether his affairs would permit the
Pasha’s absence, but we were assured you would not remain inactive.

It was also understood that the Pasha would erect a small station
on Nyamsassi Island as a provision depot, in order that our
Expedition might find means of subsistence on arrival at the Lake.

Eight months have elapsed, and not one single promise has been
performed.

On the other hand, we, faithful to our promise, departed from the
Nyanza Plain May 25th, arrived at Fort Bodo June 8th--fifteen days
from the Nyanza. Conveying to Lieutenant Stairs and Captain Nelson
your comforting assurances that you would be there in two months,
and giving written permission to Stairs and Nelson to evacuate the
Fort and accompany you to the Nyanza with the garrison, which, with
the Pasha’s soldiers, would have made a strong depôt of Nyamsassi
Island, I set out from Fort Bodo on the 16th June to hunt up the
Major and his column.

On the morning of the 17th August at 10 A.M., we sighted the rear
column at Banalya, ninety miles (English) from Yambuya--592 miles
from the Nyanza on the sixty-third day from Fort Bodo, and the
eighty-fifth from the Nyanza shore.

I sent my despatches to Stanley Falls and thence to Europe, and on
the 31st August commenced my return towards the Nyanza. Two days
before the date stated I was at Fort Bodo--December 20th. On the
24th December we moved from Fort Bodo towards the Ituri Ferry. But
as your non-arrival at Fort Bodo had left us with a larger number
of goods than our force could carry at one time, we had to make
double journeys to Fort Bodo and back to the Ituri Ferry, but by
the 10th January all that remained of the Expedition, with all its
effects, were on this side of the Ituri River, encamped half a mile
from the ferry, with abundance of food assured for months. On the
12th January I left Stairs; your absence from the Fort, and the
absolute silence respecting you all, made us suspect that serious
trouble had broken out. Yesterday your letter, as above stated,
came to hand, and its contents explained the trouble.

The difficulties I met at Banalya, are repeated to-day, near the
Albert Lake, and nothing can save us now from being overwhelmed by
them but a calm and clear decision. If I had hesitated at Banalya
very likely I should still be there waiting for Jameson and Ward,
with my own men dying by dozens.

Are the Pasha, Casati and yourself to share the same fate? If you
are still victims of indecision, then a long good-night to you all.
But, while I retain my senses, I must save my Expedition; you may
be saved also if you are wise.

In the “High Order” of the Khedive, dated 1st February, 1887, No.
3, to Emin Pasha, a translation of which was handed to me, I find
the following words:--

“And since it is our sincerest desire to relieve you with your
officers and soldiers from the difficult position you are in, our
Government have made up their minds about the manner by which
relief from these troubles may be obtained. A mission for the
relief has been found, and the command of it given to Mr. Stanley,
the famous, &c., &c., &c., and he intends to set out on it with all
the necessary provisions for you, so that he may bring you, with
your officers and men, to Cairo by the route he may think proper to
take. Consequently we have issued this ‘High Order’ to you, and it
is sent to you by the hand of Mr. Stanley, to let you know what was
being done. As soon as it reaches you convey my best wishes to the
officers and men, and you are at full liberty with regard to your
leaving for Cairo or your stay there with officers and men.

“Our Government has given a decision for paying your salaries, with
that of the officers and men.

“Those who wish to stay there of the officers and men may do so on
their own responsibility, and they may not expect any assistance
from the Government.

“Try to understand the contents well, and make them well known to
all the officers and men, that they may be fully aware of what they
are going to do.”

It is precisely what the Khedive says that I wish to say to you.
Try and understand all this thoroughly that you may be saved from
the effect of indecision, which will be fatal to you all if
unheeded.

The first instalment of relief was handed to Emin Pasha on or about
the 1st of May, 1888. The second and final instalment of relief is
at this camp with us, ready for delivery at any place the Pasha
designates, or to any person charged by the Pasha to receive it. If
the Pasha fails to receive it, or to decide what shall be done with
it I must then decide briefly what I must do.

Our second object in coming here was to receive such at our camp as
were disposed to leave Africa, and conduct them home by the nearest
and safest route. If there are none disposed to leave Africa our
Expedition has no further business in these regions, and will at
once retire. Try and understand what all this means. Try and see
the utter and final abandonment of all further relief, and the
bitter end and fate of those obstinate and misguided people who
decline assistance when tendered to them. From the 1st May, 1888,
to January 1889, are nine months--so long a time to consider a
simple proposition of leaving Africa or staying here!

Therefore, in this official and formal letter accompanying this
explanatory note to you, I designate Kavalli’s village as the
rendezvous where I am willing to receive those who are desirous of
leaving Africa, subject, of course, to any new light thrown upon
the complication by a personal interview or a second letter from
you.

And now I address myself to you personally. If you consider
yourself still a member of the Expedition subject to my orders,
then, upon receipt of this letter, you will at once leave for
Kavalli’s with such of my men--Binza and the Soudanese--as are
willing to obey you, and bring to me the final decision of Emin
Pasha and Signor Casati respecting their personal intentions. If I
am not at Kavalli’s then, stay there, and send word by letter by
means of Kavalli’s messengers to Mpinga, Chief of Gavira, who will
transmit the same to Mazamboni’s, when probably I shall receive it.
You will understand that it will be a severe strain on Kavalli’s
resources to maintain us with provisions longer than six days, and
if you are longer than this period we must retire to Mazamboni’s,
and finally to our camp on the Ituri Ferry. Otherwise we must seize
provisions by force, and any act of violence would cut off and
close native communication. This difficulty might have been avoided
had the Pasha followed my suggestion of making a depôt at
Nyamsassi. The fact that there are provisions at Mswa does not help
us at all. There are provisions in Europe also. But unfortunately
they are as inaccessible as those of Mswa. We have no boat now to
communicate by lake, and you do not mention what has become of the
steamers, the _Khedive_ and _Nyanza_.

I understand that the Pasha has been deposed and is a prisoner.
Who, then, is to communicate with me respecting what is to be done?
I have no authority to receive communications from the
officers--mutineers. It was Emin Pasha and his people I was
supposed to relieve. If Emin Pasha was dead, then to his lawful
successor in authority. Emin Pasha being alive prevents my
receiving a communication from any other person, unless he be
designated by the Pasha. Therefore the Pasha, if he be unable to
come in person to me at Kavalli’s with a sufficient escort of
faithful men, or be unable to appoint some person authorised to
receive this relief, it will remain for me to destroy the
ammunition so laboriously brought here, and return home.

Finally, if the Pasha’s people are desirous of leaving this part of
Africa, and settle in some country not far remote from here, or
anywhere bordering the Nyanza (Victoria), or along the route to
Zanzibar, I am perfectly ready to assist, besides escorting those
willing to go home to

Cairo safely; but I must have clear and definite assertions,
followed by prompt action, according to such orders as I shall give
for effecting this purpose, or a clear and definite refusal, as we
cannot stay here all our lives awaiting people who seem to be not
very clear as to what they wish.

Give my best wishes to the Pasha and Signor Casati, and I hope and
pray that wisdom may guide them both before it is too late. I long
to see you, my dear fellow, and hear from your own lip your story.

Yours very sincerely, (Signed) HENRY M. STANLEY. To A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON, Esq.

* * * * *

PRIVATE POSTSCRIPT.

Kavalli, _January 18th, 1889 3 p.m._

MY DEAR JEPHSON,--

I now send thirty rifles and three of Kavalli’s men down to the
Lake with my letters, with urgent instructions that a canoe should
set off and the bearers be rewarded.

I may be able to stay longer than six days here, perhaps for ten
days. I will do my best to prolong my stay until you arrive,
without rupturing the peace. Our people have a good store of beads,
cowries, and cloth, and I notice that the natives trade very
readily, which will assist Kavalli’s resources should he get uneasy
under our prolonged visit.

Be wise, be quick, and waste no hour of time, and bring Binza and
your own Soudanese with you. I have read your letters half-a-dozen
times over, but I fail to grasp the situation thoroughly, because
in some important details one letter seems to contradict the other.
In one you say the Pasha is a close prisoner, while you are allowed
a certain amount of liberty; in the other you say that you will
come to me as soon as you hear of our arrival here, and “I trust,”
you say, “the Pasha will be able to accompany me.” Being prisoners,
I fail to see how you could leave Tunguru at all. All this is not
very clear to us who are fresh from the bush.

If the Pasha can come, send a courier on your arrival at our old
camp on the Lake below here to announce the fact, and I will send a
strong detachment to escort him up to the plateau, even to carry
him, if he needs it. I feel too exhausted, after my thirteen
hundred miles of travel since I parted from you last May, to go
down to the Lake again. The Pasha must have some pity on me.

Don’t be alarmed or uneasy on our account; nothing hostile can
approach us within twelve miles without my knowing it. I am in the
midst of a friendly population, and if I sound the war-note, within
four hours I can have two thousand warriors to assist to repel any
force disposed to violence. And if it is to be a war of wits, why
then I am ready for the cunningest Arab alive.

I wrote above that I read your letters half-a-dozen times, and my
opinion of you varies with each reading. Sometimes I fancy you are
half Mahdist or Arabist, and then Eminist. I shall be wiser when I
see you.

Now don’t you be perverse, but obey; and let my order to you be as
a frontlet between the eyes, and all, with God’s gracious help,
will end well.

I want to help the Pasha somehow, but he must also help me and
credit me. If he wishes to get out of this trouble, I am his most
devoted servant and friend; but if he hesitates again, I shall be
plunged in wonder and perplexity. I could save a dozen Pashas if
they were willing to be saved. I would go on my knees to implore
the Pasha to be sensible in his own case. He is wise enough in all
things else, except in his own interest. Be kind and good to him
for many virtues, but do not you be drawn into that fatal
fascination which Soudan territory seems to have for all Europeans
of late years. As soon as they touch its ground, they seem to be
drawn into a whirlpool, which sucks them in and covers them with
its waves. The only way to avoid it is to obey blindly, devotedly,
and unquestioningly, all orders from the outside.

The Committee said, “Relieve Emin Pasha with this ammunition. If he
wishes to come out, the ammunition will enable him to do so; if he
elects to stay, it will be of service to him.” The Khedive said the
same thing, and added, “But if the Pasha and his officers wish to
stay, they do so on their own responsibility.” Sir Evelyn Baring
said the same thing, in clear and decided words; and here I am,
after 4,100 miles of travel, with the last instalment of relief.
Let him who is authorised to take it, take it. Come; I am ready to
lend him all my strength and wit to assist him. But this time there
must be no hesitation, but positive yea or nay, and home we go.

Yours very sincerely, HENRY M. STANLEY. A. J. MOUNTENEY JEPHSON, Esq.

* * * * *

Camp at Mpinga’s, one long march from the Nyanza, and 10 miles east of Mazamboni’s.

_January 17th, 1889._

To His Excellency EMIN PASHA,
Governor of the Equatorial Province.

SIR,

I have the honour to inform you that the second instalment of
relief which this Expedition was ordered to convey to you is now in
this camp, ready for delivery to any person charged to receive it
by you. If you prefer that we should deposit it at Kavalli or at
Kyya Nkondo’s, on the Lake, we shall be ready to do so on the
receipt of your instructions.

This second instalment of relief consists of sixty-three cases
Remington cartridges, twenty-six cases of gunpowder, each 45 lbs.
weight; four cases of percussion caps, four bales of goods, one
bale of goods for Signor Casati--a gift from myself; two pieces of
blue serge, writing-paper, envelopes, blank books, &c.