The Project Gutenberg eBook of In Darkest Africa; volume 2, by Henry M. Stanley.

Now let me for a moment speak proudly. Knowing what my companions and I know, we have this certain satisfaction, that let envy, malice, and jealousy provoke men to say what they will, the acutest cross-examination of witnesses in a court of justice would elicit nothing more, so far as we are concerned, than a fuller recognition and higher appreciation of the sacrifice and earnestness of the endeavour which we freely and gratuitously gave to assist Emin Pasha and Captain Casati, and their few hundreds of followers. Money time, years, strength, health, life, anything and every thing—freely, kindly, and devotedly—without even giving one thought to a reward, which, whatever its character might be, would be utterly inadequate as compensation. To one like me, what are banquets? A crust of bread, a chop, and a cup of tea, is a feast to one who, for the best part of twenty-three years, has had the satisfaction of eating a shilling’s worth of food a day. Receptions! they are the very honours I would wish to fly from, as I profess myself slow of speech, and Nature has not fitted me with a disposition to enjoy them. Medals! I cannot wear them; the pleasure of looking at them is even denied me by my continual absence. What then? Nothing. No honour or reward, however great, can be equal to that subtle satisfaction that a man feels when he can point to his work and say, “See, now, the task I promised you to perform with all loyalty and honesty, with might and main, to the utmost of my ability, and God willing, is to-day finished.” Say, is it well and truly done? And when the employer shall confess that “it is well and done,” can there be any recompense higher than that to one’s inward self?

In the morning I had paid a visit to Emin Pasha. He was in great trouble and pain. “Well, Pasha,” I said. “I hope you don’t mean to admit the possibility that you are to die here, do you?” “Oh! no. I am not so bad as that,” and he shook his head.

“By what I have seen, Pasha, I am entirely of same opinion. A person with a fractured head could not move his head after that manner.[36] Good-bye. Dr. Parke will remain with you until dismissed by you, and I hope to hear good news from him daily.” We shook hands and I withdrew.

It may be curious, but it is true. Emin Pasha, who breathed a cosmopolitan spirit while he was in the Interior, and who professed broad views, became different in a few days. Only one day before we reached Bagamoyo I had said to him, “Within a short time, Pasha, you will be among your countrymen; but while you glow with pride and pleasure at being once more amongst them, do not forget that they were English people who first heard your cries in the days of gloom; that it was English money which enabled these young English gentlemen to rescue you from Khartoum.”

Dr. Parke bore up, I am told, against much unpleasantness. But finally, falling ill himself, to the peril of his life he was conveyed to the French hospital in Zanzibar, where he lay as hopeless a case almost as Emin Pasha immediately after his accident. Happily he recovered from the severe illness that he had incurred while watching at the Pasha’s bedside.

The reports were more and more unsatisfactory from Bagamoyo, and finally I despatched my boy-steward Sali, who returned from his visit to the Pasha protesting that he had been threatened with a short shrift if he ever visited Bagamoyo again; and never message or note did I receive from Emin, the late Governor of Equatoria.

While writing this concluding chapter there appeared the announcement that Emin Pasha had entered the service of the German Government in East Africa. It was the conviction that he would do this that had caused me to remind him on the 4th of December, that it was English money which had enabled our Expedition to proceed to his relief and rescue. That he has ultimately elected to serve Germany in preference to England appears perfectly natural, and yet the mere announcement surprised a great many of his warmest and most disinterested friends, among whom we may number ourselves.

For among the copies of letters relating to Emin Pasha, and the objects of our Expedition supplied to me by the British Foreign Office, was a copy of one purporting to have been written by Emin himself to Sir John Kirk, offering to surrender his province to England before even he had obtained authority from the Khedive to part with it. The appearance of this letter in print vexed him greatly, as it seemed to accuse him of seeking to betray the interests of the Government he was supposed to have served so faithfully. Instead, however, of meeting with an agent of England, empowered to treat with him for the delivery of the province to the British Government, and to appoint him as the Governor of the Province under British auspices, he was informed that the Egyptian Government, acting under the advice of the British representative at Cairo, had only availed themselves of our Expedition to convey to him their wish that he would retire from Equatoria with such troops as were willing to accompany him, failing which he was to be left to stay in the land on his own responsibility. Those who are interested in motives will not find it difficult, therefore, to understand the apparent hesitation and indecision that he seemed to labour under when questioned by me as to his intentions. For nothing could have been more unexpected and unwelcome than the official letters from the Khedive and Nubar Pasha which declared their resolve to abandon the province, except the absolute silence of British officials, or British philanthropists, or commercial companies, respecting the future of the country wherein he had spent so many years of his life in contentment, if not in peace. In lieu of what he had expected, I had only the offer of the King of the Belgians to make to him, to which were attached certain conditions, that appeared to him to render the offer of no value. He could not guarantee a revenue—possibly because he knew better than any one else that there was neither government nor province, and that, therefore, revenue could not be collected. It was then I proposed to him, solely on my own responsibility, that he should take service with the British East African Association, because the copy of his letter to Sir John Kirk informed me that it approached nearer to his own proposition than the other. As I could not guarantee the engagement without authority, and could only promise that I would do my utmost to realise my ideas, I could but extract a declaration of his preference that the second offer was more congenial to him than retreat to Egypt, or service with the Congo State. Yet, as we know, he could definitely accept neither, inasmuch as he did not know whether his rebellious officers would consent to depart from the province, even as far as the Victoria Nyanza. As my mission to Emin was solely to convey ammunition to him, or to assist him in any way desirable and convenient to him, I was as free to carry offers to him from Italy, Germany, Russia, Portugal, or Greece as I was to carry that from Belgium. But as Emin was disinclined to return to Egypt, and declined to accept King Leopold’s generous offer of employment, and dared pledge himself to accept service with the English company until he had ascertained whether any of his people were willing to accompany him, he was compelled to return to his province to consult the inclinations of his officers, in doing which he was deposed from his authority and made a prisoner. When permitted to visit our camp by his rebellious officers, he placed himself under our escort, and accompanied us to the sea, with servants as we compelled to serve him during the journey.

Therefore, having accomplished our mission toward him faithfully, with every consideration and respect while he acted as the Governor of an important province, with every kindness and tender solicitude for himself and family during a journey of 1,400 miles, until he was in the arms of his countrymen, we have some reason for being more than surprised that the accident at the banquet at Bagamoyo should have so suddenly terminated our acquaintance without the smallest acknowledgment. Three several times I am aware I offended Emin. The first time was on April 5th, when, finding him utterly unable to decide, or to suggest anything, or accept suggestion from me, my patience, after fifty-two days’ restraint, gave way. Even now the very thought of it upsets me. If the Pasha had a whipping-boy, I fear the poor fellow would have had a severe time of it. Secondly, my judgment in the affair of Mohammed’s wife was contrary to his wishes, but had he been my brother, or benefactor, I could not have done otherwise than render strict justice. Third was at Mtsora, when Emin came to apologise for certain intemperate words he had used, and when I seized the opportunity of giving him a little lecture upon the mode of conduct becoming a Pasha and a gentleman. “I frankly accept your apology, Pasha,” I said, “but I do hope that from here to the coast you will allow us to remember that you are still the Governor of the Equatorial Province, and not a vain and spoiled child. We can but grieve to see you exhibiting childish pettishness, when we cannot forget that you are he for whom we were all ready to fling away our lives at a moment’s notice. The method of showing resentment for imaginary offences which we see in vogue with you and Casati is new to us. We do not understand why every little misunderstanding should be followed by suspension of intercourse. We have been in the habit of expressing frankly our opinions, but never above a minute nourishing resentment, and brooding over fancied wrongs. If you could bear this in mind you would be convinced that this forced seclusion in your tent cannot appear otherwise than absurd, and infantile to us.”

“Ah, Mr. Stanley, I am sorry I ever came on with you, and, if you will allow me, on reaching Mr. Mackay’s, I will ask you to let me remain with him,” said he.

“But why, Pasha?” I asked. “Tell me why, and what is it you wish. Has any person offended you? I know of everything that transpires in this camp, but I confess that I am ignorant of any offence being done towards you intentionally by any person. Down to the smallest Zanzibari boy I can only see a sincere desire to serve you. Now, Pasha, let me show you in few words for the first time how strange your conduct has appeared to us. When we volunteered to convey relief to you, you were a kind of hero to us; you were Gordon’s last lieutenant, who was in danger of being overcome by the fate which seemed to overtake every person connected with the Soudan, and we resolved to employ every faculty to extricate you from what appeared to be the common doom. We did not ask what country gave you birth, we did not inquire into your antecedents; you were Emin, the heroic Governor of Equatoria to us. Felkin, and Junker, and Allen, of the Anti-Slavery Society, had by their letters and speeches created a keen sympathy in every breast for Emin, the last lieutenant of Gordon. We were told that all you needed was ammunition, and from the day when I left New York to take command of this Expedition, I had only one thought, and that was to reach you before it was too late. I wrote you from Zanzibar that we intended to take the Congo route, and that we should march for Kavalli at the south-west end of the Albert Lake, and I begged you to prepare the natives for our coming, for you had two steamers, and life-boats, besides canoes. Well, we reached Kavalli on the 14th December, 1887. You did not reach Kavalli before March, 1888. That omission on your part cost us the life of a gallant Englishman, and the lives of over a hundred of our brave and faithful followers, and caused a delay of four months. We had to return to Fort Bodo, and bring our boat to search for you. During twenty-six days’ stay with you, we were not certain of any one thing, except that you would wait for the arrival of the Major and rear column. We hastened back to hunt up the rear column to find the Major was dead, and the rear column a wreck. Now all this might have been avoided if you had visited Kavalli, and assisted in your own relief. When we returned to you in January, 1889, you were deposed, a helpless prisoner, and in danger of being taken to Khartoum; and yet, though you had written to me that you and Casati and many Egyptians were resolved to depart if I would give you a little time, after fifty-six days’ patient waiting you were still undecided what to do. My illness gave you an additional twenty-eight days’ delay, and I find you still hankering for something that I cannot guess, and which you will not name. Up to this date we have lost Major Barttelot, and 300 lives; we are here to lose our own lives if they are required. What more can we do for you? Write out in plain words your needs, and you shall then judge for yourself whether our professions are mere empty words.”

From this time to the hour I bade him my farewell at the hospital on the 6th December nothing occurred to mar a pleasant intercourse. There was one difficulty, however, under which I laboured, and that was to write my letters to the Emin Relief Committee, without betraying our surprise at the extraordinary vacillation which marked the Governor’s conduct. It would have been a more agreeable task to have maintained the illusions under which we had set out from England, but it was impossible. What transpired at Kavalli was visible to every officer in the Expedition, and at some indiscreet moment the mask under which friendship may have attempted to disguise the eccentricities of the Pasha would surely have been brushed aside. It was, therefore, necessary that I should state the truth as charitably as possible, so that whatever may have been deduced by critics, the worst charge would have been no more than that his apparent vacillation was due to excess of amiability.

But the Pasha’s conduct at Bagamoyo, from the moment he entered the German Hospital, will not even permit me the privilege of exhibiting him in such an amiable light. The ungrateful treatment which the poor boy Sali received, the making of my letters common property among the German officers, all of which were urging him to have regard for his own good name and fair reputation, the strange ingratitude shown to Dr. Parke, who ought not to have an enemy in the wide world, the sudden and inexplicable cessation of intercourse with any member of our Expedition, render it necessary that we should not close this book without reference to these things.

In Africa Emin Pasha expressed his fears that if he returned to Egypt he would be unemployed. Within half-an-hour of my arrival in Cairo, I took the liberty of urging upon the Khedive that Emin Pasha should be assured, as early as possible, that he would be certain of employment. The Khedive at once consented, and in thirty-six hours Emin replied, “Thanks, my kind master.”

Four weeks later he cabled to the Khedive requiring that a credit for £400 should be given to him at Zanzibar. Col. Euan-Smith, at Zanzibar, was requested by the Government of Egypt to pay that amount to Emin, whereupon he cabled back, “Since you cannot treat me better than that, I send you my resignation.”

As he had offered his services to England, the British East African Company were induced to listen to his overtures, and I was aware while at Cairo that a very liberal engagement was open to his acceptance; but suddenly everybody was shocked to hear that he had accepted service with the Germans in East Africa, and naturally one of his first duties would be to inform his new employers of the high estimate placed on his genius for administration by the directors of the British East Africa Company. I understand that he had agreed to serve Germany one month previous to his offer of service to the British Company. It is clear, therefore, why he was negotiating with the latter.

As has been stated above, his desire to serve the Germans has not been a surprise to me; but this reckless indifference to his own reputation, and his disregard of the finer human feelings certainly are calculated to diminish admiration. While most readers of this book would be indifferent to his employment by his own Emperor, and would consider it perfectly natural and right that he should show preference for his own natal land and countrymen, it will not appear so natural to them that the flag which he had stated at Kavalli he had served for thirty years, should have been so disdainfully cast aside, or that the “kind master,” the Khedive of Egypt, who had given £14,000 towards his rescue, should have been parted with so unceremoniously; or that Sir William Mackinnon and his English friends, who had subscribed £16,000 for sending to him the assistance he had requested, should have been subjected to such a sudden chilling of their kindly sympathies. Nor will it appear quite natural to us that he should so soon forget his “dear people” for whom he pleaded so nobly in May, 1888, and February and March, 1889, as to leave them in Cairo for four months without a word. Dr. Vita Hassan, the apothecary, his most devoted follower, received a letter from him a few days before I left Cairo, which announced to him that he and the others must look out for themselves, that as he had severed his connection with Egypt he could not be troubled any more with them. Poor Shukri Agha, faithful to the last, with tears in his eyes came to me to ask what it all meant? What had he done to be treated with such neglect? With eight years’ arrears of pay due to them, the Pasha’s followers remain wondering why their late chief has so utterly cast them away.

We were the recipients at Zanzibar of so much courtesy and hospitality that pages might be filled with the mere mention of them. To Major Wissmann, I am vastly indebted for large and unstinted hospitality, and I feel honoured with the acquaintance of this noble and brave German centurion. To the gallant Captains Foss and Hirschberg we owe great gratitude for their unremitting kindness. To Consul-General Col. Euan-Smith and his charming wife, to whom I am indebted for courtesies past counting, and a hospitality as ungrudging as it was princely and thoroughly disinterested, besides favours and honours without number, I am too poor in aught to do more than make this simple record of a goodness which cannot be recompensed. And indeed there was not a German, or English, or Italian, or Indian resident at Zanzibar who did not show to myself and companions in some form or another, either by substantial dinners and choice wines their—what was called—appreciation of our services in behalf of Emin Pasha, Captain Casati, and their followers.

The Agent of the East African Company, in company with Lieut. Stairs, having completed their labours, of calculating the sums due to the survivors of the Relief Expedition, and having paid them accordingly, a purse of 10,000 rupees was subscribed thus: 3000 rupees from the Khedive of Egypt; 3000 rupees from the Emin Relief Fund; 3000 rupees from myself personally; 1000 rupees from the Seyyid Khalifa of Zanzibar, which enabled the payees to deliver from 40 to 60 rupees extra to each survivor according to desert. General Lloyd Mathews gave them also a grand banquet, and in the name of the kind-hearted Sultan in various ways showed how merit should be rewarded. An extra sum of 10,000 rupees set apart from the Relief Fund is to be distributed also among the widows and orphans of those who perished in the Yambuya Camp, and with the Advance Column.

Among my visitors at Zanzibar was a Mohammedan East Indian, named Jaffar Tarya, who is a wealthy Bombay merchant, and acts as agent for many Arab and Zanzibari caravan owners in Africa. Among others he acts as agent for Hamed bin Mohammed, alias Tippu-Tib. He informed me that he held the sum of £10,600 in gold, which was paid to him for and in behalf of Tippu-Tib by the Government of the Congo Free State for ivory purchased by Lieut. Becker from Tippu-Tib in its name. Jaffar Tarya had thus unwittingly put the means in my hands to enable me to bring Tippu-Tib some day before the Consular Court at Zanzibar to be judged for alleged offences committed against British subjects—the gentlemen of the Emin Relief Committee—and to refund certain expenses which had been incurred by the declarations he had made before Acting Consul-General Holmwood, that he would assist the Emin Pasha Relief Expedition with carriers. Thus, in consideration of his signed agreement that he would furnish the Expedition with 600 carriers, he had been granted free passage and board for himself and ninety-six of his followers from Zanzibar to Banana Point, River Congo=£1940, and from Banana Point to Stanley Falls=£1940. At Yambuya he had received forty-seven bales of cloth, about fifty cases of gunpowder, as many cases of fixed ammunition, Remington rifles, elephant guns, revolvers, and £128 worth of stores for his sub-chief, Muini Sumai, on the promise that he would supply carriers to escort Major Barttelot until the Major would either meet me or Emin Pasha, which he did not do further than for about ninety miles, and therefore caused us a delay of nearly a year, and a further expense of nearly twelve months’ pay extra to about 250 Zanzibaris. The bill of claims that we could legitimately present amounted in the aggregate to £10,000. Whereupon I pleaded for an injunction that such moneys should not depart from the hands of the British subject Jaffar Tarya until an English court of justice should decide whether the Emin Relief Committee was not entitled in equity to have these expenses and moneys refunded. After hearing the evidence the Consular Judge granted the injunction. There is not a doubt, then, that, if strict justice be dealt to this arch offender, the Emin Relief Committee may find itself in possession of funds sufficient to pay each Zanzibari survivor a bonus of 300 rupees, and each of our officers the sum of £1000 cash, a consummation devoutly to be wished.

After arriving at Cairo on the 16th of January, 1890, and delivering the 260 refugees to the Egyptian authorities, I sought a retired house wherein I might proceed to write this record of three years’ experiences “In Darkest Africa, and the Story of our Quest, Rescue, and Retreat of Emin, the Governor of Equatoria.” I discovered such a house in the Villa Victoria, and on January 25th I seized my pen to do a day’s work. But I knew not how to begin. Like Elihu, my memory was full of matter, and I desired to write that I might be refreshed; but there was no vent. My right hand had forgotten its cunning, and the art of composition was lost by long disuse. Wherefore, putting firm restraint against the crowds of reminiscences that clamoured for issue, I let slip one after another with painful deliberation into the light, and thus, while one day my pen would fairly race over the paper at the rate of nine folios an hour, at other times it could scarcely frame 100 words. But finally, after fifty days’ close labour, in obedience to an irresistible impulse I have succeeded in reaching this page 903 of foolscap manuscript, besides writing 400 letters and about 100 telegrams, and am compelled from over-weariness to beg the reader’s permission to conclude.

Some scenes of the wonderful land of Inner Africa, through which we have travelled together, must for ever cling to our memories. Wherever we go some thought of some one of the many scenes in that great forest will intrude itself into the mind. The eternal woods will stand in their far-away loneliness for ever. As in the past, so they will flourish and fall for countless ages in the future, in dumb and still multitudes, shadowy as ghosts in the twilight, yet silently creeping upward and higher into the air and sunshine. In fancy we shall often hear the thunder crashing and rushing in rolling echoes through the silence and the darkness; we shall see the leaden mists of the morning, and in the sunshine the lustre of bedewed verdure and the sheen of wet foliage, and inhale the fragrance of flowers.

And now and then—oh, the misery of it!—athwart the memory will glide spectres of men cowering in the rainy gloom, shivering with cold, gaunt and sad-eyed through hunger, despairing in the midst of the unknown; we shall hear the moaning of dying men, see the stark forms of the dead, and shrink again with the hopelessness of our state. Then like gleams of fair morning will rise to view the prospects of the grass-land, the vistas of green bossy hills, the swirling swathes of young grass waltzing merrily with the gale, the flowing lines of boscage darkening the hollows, the receding view of uplifting and subsiding land waves rolling to the distance where the mountains loom in faint image through the undefined blue. And often thought will wing itself lighter than a swift, and soar in aërial heights over sere plain, blue water, vivid green land and silver lake, and sail along the lengthy line of colossal mountain shoulders turned towards the Semliki, and around the congregation of white heads seated in glory far above the Afric world, and listen to the dropping waters as they tumble down along the winding grooves of Ruwenzori in sheaves of silver arrows, and speed through the impending rain-clouds, and the floating globes of white mist over unexplored abysses, through the eternal haze of Usongora, and up with a joyous leap into the cool atmosphere over Ankori and Karagwé, and straight away over 300 leagues of pastoral plains, and thin thorn forest, back again to marvel at the delightful azure of the Indian Ocean.

Good-night, Pasha, and you, Captain Casati! You will know better when you have read these pages, what the saving of you cost in human life and suffering. I have nothing to regret. What I have given that I have given freely and with utmost good will; and so say we all.

Good-night, Gentlemen of the Relief Committee! Three years are past since your benevolence commissioned us to relieve the distressed and rescue the weak. 260 all told have been returned to their homes; about 150 more are in safety.

Good night, oh! my Companions! May honours such as you deserve be showered upon you. To the warm hearts of your countrymen I consign you. Should one doubt be thrown upon your manhood, or upon your loyalty or honour, within these pages, the record of your faithfulness during a period which I doubt will ever be excelled for its gloom and hopelessness, will be found to show with what noble fortitude you bore all. Good-night, Stairs, Jephson, Nelson, Parke, and you, Bonny, a long good-night to you all!

You who never turned your backs,
But marched breast forward,
Never doubted clouds would break,
Never dreamed, though right were worsted,
Wrong would triumph.
Held we fall to rise, are baffled to
Fight better,
Sleep to wake.

No, at noonday, in the bustle of
Man’s work-time,
Greet the Unseen with a cheer!
Bid them forward, breast and bark, as
Either should be.
“Strive and thrive!” cry, “speed, fight
On, for ever,
There as here.”

APPENDICES.

APPENDIX A.

Monsieur Stanley, Esq., Zanzibar. Je vous adresse mes sincères et cordiales félicitations sur votre arrivée à Zanzibar après toutes les péripéties de votre remarquable Expédition pour aller au sécours d’Emin Pasha et de ses braves compagnons. Je vous ai envoyé un de mes bateaux, le Mansourah, pour vous ramener et j’attends avec impatience le plaisir de vous recevoir tous.

Stanley, Zanzibar. You are authorised to pay 200 pounds as a gratification to your Zanzibar men in recognition of their services. The British Consul-General has been asked to pay you the amount on behalf of the Egyptian Government.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Geographic Society, Victoria, congratulate you. Convey Emin Pasha deep sympathy.

Monsieur Stanley, Zanzibar. La Conférence de Bruxelles justement émue des souffrances et des périls que vous avez bravés avec vos compagnons et admirant l’énergie que vous avez déployée dans l’accomplissement d’une noble mission, vous adresse ses sincères félicitations; elle connaît et apprécie les nouveaux et grands services que vous avez rendus à la science et à l’humanité; elle vous prie d’exprimer ses sympathies à Emin Pasha, qui fidèle au devoir a si longtemps gardé un poste dangereux, a de lui faire part des vœux qu’elle forme pour son complet rétablissement au nom de la Conférence.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Sir Julian Goldsmid, Sir Edwin Arnold, Alfred Rothschild, Earl Wharncliffe, Prince Gluca, Sir Arthur Sullivan, Beatty Kingston, Charles Wyndham, Colonel FitzGeorge, Lord Ronald Gower, Lord Ernest Hamilton, Sir James Linton, Count Lutzow, Sir Morell Mackenzie, General Sir Roger Palmer, D’Oyly Carte, Fred Cowen, Anderson, Critchett, Sutherland Edwards, John Pettie, Robson, Rowe, Frank Lockwood, Farjeon, Professor Herkomer, constituting Committee of Arts and Letters Club, heartily congratulate you on brilliant success, safe return civilization, invite you to banquet your honour.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Council Royal Geographical Society congratulate you heartily on success of journey and great discoveries.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Manchester Geographical Society sends cordial greeting to yourself and brave companions, trusting your health may be spared.

Stanley, Zanzibar. I must be first to offer you my warmest hearty congratulations on the completion of your herculean task. Inform me as soon as possible of your movements and telegraph general state of health of your staff. I congratulate them upon their success.

Stanley, Zanzibar. My wife and I thankfully rejoice to learn of your safety and success, and anxiously await further information. Accept our most hearty congratulations. We are longing to see you. Offer our kindest sympathy to Emin Pacha and all your companions. All the Company’s officers have been instructed to do everything they can to meet your wishes.

From the Emin Pasha Relief Committee and the Directors of the Imperial British East African Company to H. M. Stanley, Esq., and Emin Pasha—

Stanley, Zanzibar. Myself and George Mackenzie hope to organise proper reception for you, which I consider both fitting and necessary.

Heartiest welcome and sincerest congratulations on your safe return. I hope to come and meet you at Bagamoyo if you do not reach there before 5th December. I only reach Zanzibar 2nd from England. Of course you will stay with us on arrival. My wife joins me in heartiest good wishes.

Stanley. Heartiest congratulations yourself and Emin. Am bearer of several letters from friends. It is absolutely necessary must remain Mombasa four days. Must proceed with all haste, greet you as special representative Relief Committee.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Balinakill sends you united kindest heartiest good wishes for a merry Christmas and a happy New Year. They rejoice that at this season you are enjoying your well-earned repose after your hardships and dangers.

Stanley, Zanzibar. The Fishmongers Company send their congratulations and wish to present Mr. H. M. Stanley with their Honorary Freedom. If Mr. Stanley is willing to accept this, they request him to give them the pleasure of his company at dinner during the month of February, or at any other time he may find it more convenient.

Stanley, Zanzibar. The Burgomaster of Brussels sends in the name of the Administration Communale his warmest felicitations to Henry Stanley for the happy issue of his admirable enterprise, and hopes to welcome him at the Town Hall.

Stanley, Zanzibar. The Turners Company gave a dinner to the Lord Mayor at which many old friends were present. After receiving a generous telegram from His Majesty King Leopold, an honorary Turner, your health was drunk with stirring enthusiasm. The Company send you hearty congratulations on your splendid achievement and cordially welcome you home.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Americans, London, applaud heroic achievement in cause of humanity, science, and invite you dinner. Minister Lincoln presides, name probable date.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Let me first congratulate you upon your great success, let me secondly thank you for letter, and your kindly treatment of my correspondent. Hoping to see you soon, I am your great admirer,

Stanley, Zanzibar. Thousand welcomes, congratulations on safety and brilliant achievement.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Pierce says, several congratulations Society of Arts. Elliot says, going to Cairo to-morrow, hopes to entertain you there on New Year’s day. Everybody says you are a phenomenally great man; to myself your success truly wonderful, beats romance. Sorry about Emin, hope your able doctor will pull him through, due to you he should be landed safe at home.

Stanley, Zanzibar. You will have many congratulations on the successful termination of your most heroic work; but none can be more sincere and earnest than those of your friend.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Affectionate congratulations from your oldest London friend on happy return and splendid achievements transcending all that has gone before. Your name on every tongue on Sunday 22 December; Robinson, Sala, Irving, Toole, Yates, Lawson, Wingfield, my guests at Reform Club, when your health and glorious career was only toast of evening.

Stanley, Zanzibar. Again welcome back from still another perilous African Expedition.

Monsieur Et Cher Collègue,—La Société de Géographie de Paris nous charge de vous féliciter de votre retour. Elle a pris le plus vif intérêt aux périlleux voyages que vous venez d’accomplir et tout particulièrement aux découvertes géographiques qui auront été le résultat.

La Société espère que vous voudrez bien la mettre à même d’en apprécier toute l’importance.

Veuillez agréer, Monsieur et cher Collègue, avec nos félicitations personnelles l’expression de nos sentiments les plus distingués.

A. Monsieur Henry M. Stanley, Membre Correspondant de la
Société de Géographie de Paris.