TO THE SAME.
“Kuka, July 14, 1823.
“Since I wrote you last I have got very little new to communicate. But you will be glad to hear that my health is now much improved. I have been travelling about during the last six weeks, for the purpose of visiting the different places of importance; and I have reason to be well pleased with the treatment I have everywhere experienced; all have been civil—kind. There is indeed very little left for me to desire, every thing having so far exceeded my expectations. The sheikh Canmi, governor of Bornou, has been like a father, granting every indulgence, and showing every kindness. At the end of the rains I hope to go into Soudan, to make discoveries there, the people are good, and the country very interesting. Our houses are not waterproof like yours. They are little round places of mud with straw roofs. There are neither stones nor lime in the whole kingdom, so that large substantial houses cannot be built for want of materials. The streets are frequently knee-deep with water from the rain of a few hours. The thunder is awful, but the lightning seldom does any damage. There are very few poisonous animals, and noxious insects are very rare. I think, if every thing turns out as I expect, I shall be home in little more than a year. I have nothing to dread, and have never had a wakeful night from fear.”
It would be an easy matter for a severe critic to point out many incorrect expressions in these letters, as it is obvious they were all written off-hand amid the hurry and anxiety of the avocations connected with the mission, and certainly never meant to meet the public eye. But, we think, they cannot be perused without producing a deep impression that their author was devotedly attentive to the performance of his public duties—that he possessed a sanguine temperament and a well-informed mind—and that his heart was actuated by a sense of the obligations of friendship, and the kindly feeling of fraternal affection. With regard to this latter sentiment, indeed, it is quite clear, from that portion of the letters to his sister which—as relating entirely to private and confidential matters—has been suppressed, that his anxiety for the welfare of his relatives was never absent from his thoughts, and that the desire to afford them protection, and to minister to their comfort, was the constant and powerful stimulant to his exertions. The substance of the second of his letters to professor Jameson was printed in the volume published by Denham and Clapperton, giving an account of the result of the mission in which they, along with Dr. Oudney, had been sent. The first letter to the professor, however, contains original matter, as well as the most of those to his sister; and had he lived to return home, and reduce his memoranda to a state fit for publication, we have reason to believe that he would have greatly enlarged our knowledge of Africa. The Doctor and Clapperton set out towards Soudan about the middle of December 1823, while Major Denham went on an exploratory excursion in another direction; and while engaged in its prosecution, he received a short note from Dr. Oudney. It was brought from Katagum. “It had no date, and was indeed his last effort. The acknowledgment of being weak and helpless,” says Major D., “assured me that he was really so; for, during the whole of his long sufferings, a complaint had scarcely ever escaped his lips. On the Shiekh’s saying to him, when he first expressed his wish to accompany the Kafila, ‘surely your health is not such as to risk such a journey?’ he merely replied, ‘why, if I stay here I shall die, and probably sooner, as travelling always improves my health.’ This letter, though short, expresses great satisfaction at the treatment he had met with on his journey, and also from the inhabitants of the country.”[2] Captain Clapperton’s letter to Mr. Consul Warrington, dated Kano, 2d February, 1824, contains the last scene of this mournful history.
“The melancholy task has fallen to me to report to you the lamented death of my friend Dr. Walter Oudney. We left Kuka on the 14th day of December 1823, and by easy journies arrived at Bedukarfea, the westmost town in the kingdom of Bornou; during this part of the journey, he was recovering strength very fast, but on leaving Bedukarfea and entering the Beder territory on the night of the 26th, and morning of the 27th, we had such an intense cold that the water was frozen in the dishes, and the water-skins were as hard as beards. Here the poor Doctor got a severe cold, and continued to grow weaker every day. At this time he told me that when he left Kuka, he expected his disorder would allow him to perform all his country expected of him, but that now his death was near, and required me to deliver his papers to Lord Bathurst, and to say he wished Mr. Barrow might have the arrangement of them, if agreeable to his Lordship. On the 2d of January, 1824, we arrived at the city of Katagum, where we remained till the 10th, partly to see if the Doctor, by staying a few days, would gain a little strength to enable him to pursue his journey. On leaving Katagum he rode a camel as he was too weak to ride his horse. We proceeded on our road for ten miles that day, and then halted; and, on the following day five miles further, to a town called Murmur. On the morning of the 12th, he ordered the camels to be loaded at day-light, drank a cup of coffee, and I assisted him to dress. When the camels were loaded, with the assistance of his servant and I, he came out of the tent. I saw then that the hand of death was upon him, and that he had not an hour to live. I begged him to return to his tent and lay himself down, which he did, and I sat down beside him; he expired in about half an hour after.
“I sent immediately to the governor of the town to acquaint him with what had happened, and to desire he would point out a spot where I might bury my friend, and also to have people to watch the body and dig the grave, which was speedily complied with. I had dead cloths made from some turbans that were intended as presents, and as we travelled as Englishmen and servants of his Majesty, I considered it my most indispensable duty to read the service of the dead over the grave, according to the rites of the Church of England, which happily was not objected to, but, on the contrary, I was paid a good deal of respect for so doing. I then bought two sheep, which were killed and given to the poor, and I had a clay wall built round the grave, to preserve it from beasts of prey.” It is added to this account (inserted in the “Narrative,” &c.) of the death and funeral, substantially the same as that given above, that “Thus died Walter Oudney, M.D., a man of unassuming deportment, pleasing manners, stedfast perseverance, and undaunted enterprise; while his mind was fraught at once with knowledge, virtue, and religion,”—a statement which accurately describes his character. In personal appearance, we may remark, that in stature he was of the middle size, slightly made, with a pale complexion, and grave and benevolent expression of countenance.
It will naturally be asked—since Dr. Oudney was of a temper of mind so active and enterprising, as well as possessed of so much physical science—why he has contributed so little to the elucidation of the central parts of Africa which he visited? We are sorry we are unable to solve this problem, having found it impossible to obtain any farther information on the subject than is contained in the volume of Travels, published (1826) in the name of the three persons who formed the mission, namely, Denham, Clapperton, and Oudney. Denham, in speaking of the materials of the volume in question says, that the only papers of Oudney’s placed in his hands, were “an itinerary from Mourzuk to Bornou,” and “An excursion to the westward of Mourzuk.” The latter is printed at the end of the “Introductory Chapter;” but of the former, only a few mineralogical notes are given. There is not a doubt, however, but that a vast mass of materials illustrative of the districts visited, were collected by Dr. Oudney, although it is now impossible to say what has become of them. Mr. Barrow asserts that he was labouring under a pectoral complaint when he left England; and that the disorder was increased by this journey to Ghaat, and he would thereby insinuate that, during the greater part of the time he lived in Africa, he was rendered unfit, by bodily weakness, for keeping regular journals. Now, none of his most intimate friends had the least suspicion that he was troubled with any disease of the breast. His chest, instead of being contracted, was broad and ample; and, in ascending the hills of his native land, and the equally difficult common stairs of Edinburgh, the lightness of his figure, and the activity of his habits, always enabled him to outrun the longest-winded, and the supplest-jointed of his companions; and certainly nothing mentioned in the letters which we have published would lead to the inference that he did not enjoy the most perfect health till after he had been a considerable length of time in Bornou. It is likewise quite clear that he was not of a character to neglect any duty which the situation in which he was placed imposed upon him; and so we repeat, that a great deal of valuable information must have been collected by him, although it is to be feared it is now irrecoverably lost. It is to be regretted, moreover, that his premature death rendered the term of his service too short to warrant government to make some provision for his sisters, now orphans, and one of them in a bad state of health.
MEMOIR
OF
CAPTAIN HUGH CLAPPERTON,
THE
AFRICAN TRAVELLER.