The autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, G.C.B.Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
History
The autobiography of Sir Henry Morton Stanley, G.C.B.
Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton)
Africa, Central -- Biography; Explorers -- Africa -- Biography; Stanley, Henry M. (Henry Morton), 1841-1904
So the fair Greek disappears; and Stanley, free and heart-whole, is
whirled away again by the ‘Herald’s’ swift and changing summons: to
Athens, to witness a Royal Baptism, and describe the temples and ruins,
with which he was enraptured; to Smyrna, Rhodes, Beyrout, and
Alexandria; thence to Spain, where great events seemed impending. But he
has barely interviewed General Prim, when he is ordered to London; there
the ‘Herald’s’ agent, Colonel Finlay Anderson, gives him a surprising
commission.
It is vaguely reported that Dr. Livingstone is on his way homeward from
Africa. On the chance of meeting him, and getting the first
intelligence, Stanley is to go to Aden, and use his discretion as to
going to Zanzibar. It looks like a wild-goose chase, but his, ‘not to
make reply; his, not to reason why’; and he is off to Aden, which he
reaches November 21, 1868. Not a word can he learn of Livingstone. He
writes enquiries to Consul Webb at Zanzibar, and, in the wretched and
sun-scorched little town, sets himself to wait; but not in idleness. He
works the Magdala campaign into book-form, designing in some indefinite
future to publish it. (It came out five years later.) Then he falls upon
‘a pile of good books which my interesting visit to Greece and Asia
Minor induced me to purchase--Josephus, Herodotus, Plutarch, Derby’s
“Iliad,” Dryden’s “Virgil,” some few select classics of Bohn’s Library,
Wilkinson’s and Lane’s books on “Egypt,” hand-books to Greece, the
Levant, and India, Kilpert’s maps of Asia Minor, etc. Worse heat, worse
dust, and still no word of Livingstone!’
* * * * *
New Year’s Day, 1869. Many people have greeted me, and expressed their
wish that it should be a happy one, and that I should see many more such
days. They were no doubt sincere, but what avail their wishes, and what
is happiness? What a curious custom it is, to take this day, above all
others, to speak of happiness, when inwardly each must think in his soul
that it admonishes him of the lapse of time, and what enormous arrears
there still remain to make up the sum of his happiness!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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