On March 19th, 1913, a hundred years will have passed since David Livingstone was born. It is only forty years since his body was carried by faithful hands from the centre of Africa to the coast that he might be buried among his peers in Westminster Abbey. In those forty years great and astounding changes have been witnessed in the Continent which is associated with his fame. The campaign he fought against the slave-system that desolated the vast district drained by the Zambesi had to be renewed

The year 1813 in which my story opens was a momentous one in the history of Europe. The titanic struggle with Napoleon was nearing its crisis. Victor at Lutzen and Bautzen, he had been defeated at Leipzig, on one of the bloodiest battlefields in modern warfare. Away in the Pyrenees, Wellington was grappling with Soult, and step by step driving him back on to French soil. Among those who were fighting in the ranks of the British army were at least two men bearing the name of Livingstone. It is do

A voyage of five months saw Livingstone at Algoa Bay, preparing for his first journey into the interior of Africa, the grave of so many reputations, but the land of his renown. Until within a short time of his departure from London he had hoped and intended to go to China as a medical missionary. But the “Opium War” was still in progress; and for the time being China was impossible. Moreover, Livingstone was brought under the influence of one of the greatest personalities in modern missionary en

It is difficult to summarise Livingstone’s achievements during the eleven years he had spent in Africa. He had penetrated furthest north from the Cape of any white man. He had discovered Lake Ngami, and the upper reaches of the Zambesi. He had given Christianity a foothold among the Bakwains and the Makololo. He had converted one of the most remarkable chiefs in Central Africa. He had built three houses with his own hands, and had taught many hundreds to read. He had exercised the healing art to

Before we begin our journey with Livingstone to the coast, it will be well to pause and consider two things—firstly, the task proposed; and secondly, the equipment for the task. (1) The Task. Linyanti lies a hundred miles from the Zambesi river, at which the two possible routes may be said to fork. The one, eastward, was comparatively simple: it was to follow the great river some thousand miles to the sea. The other, westward, meant tracing the river towards the source so far as was possible, an

Livingstone found Loanda a very decayed town, but he did not fail to win many friendships. Mr. Gabriel, the one Englishman in the place, was overwhelmingly kind, and the Roman Catholic bishop scarcely less so. English men-of-war were in the harbour also, keeping both eyes open for slave ships, and Livingstone was able to take his men on board and show them the cannon with which England “was going to destroy the slave trade.” He himself recovered only very slowly from his condition of absolute em

From the end of 1856 till March of 1859 Livingstone was home. He had been parted from wife and children for five long years, and nobody realised more than he did what a burden of anxiety Mrs. Livingstone had carried all that while. One of his greatest sorrows was the death of his father, whom he had longed to see again, but who died during Livingstone’s voyage home. The honours bestowed upon him were numberless. The freedom of the City of Glasgow and the City of Edinburgh, honorary doctors degre

When Livingstone arrived in Bombay in September, Sir Bartle Frere was Governor. They were old friends, and the Governor became his very sympathetic host. His immediate purpose was to dispose of the “Lake Nyassa” for what she would fetch. This proved to be £2,600, for a steamer that had cost him £6,000. It was a poor bargain, but he was not in a position to refuse it, and as things turned out he got no good out of it. He deposited the money in an Indian bank which in a few weeks failed miserably,

When Livingstone crossed Tanganyika again to the west and disappeared into the new country, he certainly did not propose to himself more than an eight or nine months’ absence. In reality he left Ujiji on July 12th, 1869, and saw it no more until October 23rd, 1871. For two years and a quarter he wandered on, while the great world believed him to be dead; and, perhaps, if we had to name one period of his life which was more poignant and more fruitful than any other, it was this. For out of its ag

In the middle of October, 1869, when Livingstone was at Bambarré in quest of the Lualaba, Mr. Stanley was travelling from Madrid to Paris in response to an urgent telegram from Mr. James Gordon Bennett, Jr., of the New York Herald . “Where do you think Livingstone is?” was Mr. Bennett’s query when Stanley arrived. The latter confessed his ignorance. The world in general seemed to be content to go on, regardless of Livingstone’s fate. Nobody knew for certain whether he was alive or dead. Mr. Benn

As we have seen, Livingstone said farewell to Stanley on March 14th, 1872; and prepared to wait in Unyanyembe until his friend had reached Zanzibar, and sent a body of picked natives back to act as his escort. In his diary he makes careful reckonings as to the length of time this will mean, and concludes that he cannot expect his men until July 15th. It was August 14th before they arrived. He had to wait five weary months at Unyanyembe; and the lateness of his start brought the wet weather near,

The life of Livingstone has been indifferently told if the personality of the man has not appeared in these pages. But the reader will welcome a few personal details that could not well find a place in previous chapters. The portrait of Livingstone is well known. It is a strong, rugged face, rather heavy and severe in its general effect, with a thick dark moustache, a broad mouth and full chin—the whole lightened, however, by the honest kindly eyes and the suggestion of humour about the lips. Wh