With the practical withdrawal of our Government from Niger enterprise, M‘Queen’s magnificent dream of British Empire in the heart of Africa seemingly vanished for ever. A new school of politicians appeared in our national councils who had so little read the secrets of our country’s greatness, that their cry was for no more foreign expansion—no more colonial responsibilities.
The influence of the retrograde movement soon began to tell on the fortunes of West Africa. Already its natural development had been retarded by a deadly climate, a scarcity of valuable products, and the barbarity and laziness of its inhabitants. To these were now added Government neglect and mismanagement. Administrators and governors were told to restrict their operations to the narrowest limits. Merchants were either debarred access to the interior, or informed that they would advance at their own risk, and with no hope of Government support. Geographical enterprise shared in the general blight. The work of exploring a region which had become classic through the travels and martyred lives of so many of Britain’s most worthy sons was stopped.
Needless to say, such a policy led to disgraceful results. British influence was confined to the coast region, there to eke out a miserable political and commercial existence among its deadly swamps; our governors were given the old woman’s task of administering ludicrously unsuitable laws, or palavering over petty disputes with still more petty tribal chiefs; our merchants, thanks to the conditions under which they were placed, became degraded into barterers of gin, rum, tobacco, gunpowder, and guns, the best Europe had to give in return for Africa’s oils, gold, and ivory. But while we were thus degenerating into an invertebrate abortion of British colonial genius, fit occupant of slimy swamps and fever-breeding jungles, a continental rival was preparing to step into our shoes, and reap the reward of our former labours.
Almost coincidently with the practical throwing up of our work on the Lower Niger, the French began to bestir themselves on the Senegal, and cast longing eyes towards Bambarra and the Upper Niger. They too began to dream of Central African Empire—as once M‘Queen had done—and to see far off in the future their flag supreme from the Mediterranean coast line of Algiers to the shores of the Atlantic. The key of the situation they clearly saw lay in the Niger. Once established there, with the necessary openings to the west, they would have command of the whole of the Western Sudan, and possibly also of the Central Region.
With patient foresight they began to send explorers along the line of proposed conquest, carrying with them ready-made treaties, French flags, and blank maps. Already French influence had made itself felt far up the river, and forts had been established in the very earliest days of their rule. Such of the latter as had fallen into ruins or had been deserted were once more occupied and repaired, and new advance posts were pushed further into the heart of the country.
Soon they had firmly established themselves as high up the Senegal as the point where Park in his first expedition had crossed it on his way to Kaarta. This was the limit of the river’s navigability in the wet season. But no consideration of natural difficulties gave limit to their dream of power.
In 1863, two officers, E. Mage and Dr. Quintin, prospected a way to the Niger across the intervening highlands lying between the two rivers. French arms were not slow to follow where French explorers led, and speedy preparations were made to complete the base of operations for the final advance to their promised land.
Meanwhile our representatives on the coast, stewing in their miserable, disease-stricken belt, were not blind to the progress being made by our enterprising neighbours, nor unaware of their vast designs of conquest and commercial monopoly, and the probable result to England’s political and commercial position in these regions. In vain they drew the attention of the Home Government to the situation, and asked for power to act before it was too late. They were but as voices crying in the wilderness, to which as little heed was paid as gives the Bedouin to the desert mirage. More than that, the coast authorities were told to let the French go where they liked, and not to throw any obstacles in their way.
The French were not slow to take advantage of the field thus left open to them. By 1880 their line of forts on the Senegal was completed, and everything ready for their next move. For this enterprise Captain Gallieni was appointed leader, and at the head of a small army of drilled troops, and a considerable train of donkeys, native drivers, native servants, &c., he started in 1880 on his mission of planting the French flag on the Upper Niger, where, from our geographical position and priority of exploration, the Union Jack alone should have floated.
As far as the confluence of the Bakhoy and the Bafing, the march of Gallieni was attended by nothing worse than the usual amount of worry and trouble incident to the passage of a small army through a barbarous or semi-barbarous country. Beyond, however, lay the unoccupied and but partially explored country between the Senegal and the Niger. Here the special trials and cares of the expedition commenced. Food was often obtained with difficulty. Their advance was naturally viewed with suspicion by the natives, and much care and tact was required to prevent friction. In spite of all obstructions, however, they gradually pushed south towards their goal, leaving French flags in the hands of the chiefs, and bearing with them treaties placing the latter and their people under the protection of France.