The Personal Life of David Livingstone: Chiefly from his Unpublished Journals and Correspondence in the Possession of His FamilyBlaikie, William Garden
Religion
The Personal Life of David Livingstone: Chiefly from his Unpublished Journals and Correspondence in the Possession of His Family
Blaikie, William Garden
Livingstone, David, 1813-1873
After Livingstone had been six weeks at Quilimane, H.M. brig "Frolic"
arrived, with ample supplies for all his need, and took him to the
Mauritius, where he arrived on 12th August, 1856. It was during this
voyage that the lamentable insanity and suicide of his native attendant
Sekwebu occurred, of which we have an account in the _Missionary
Travels_. At the Mauritius he was the guest of General Hay, from whom
he received the greatest kindness, and so rapid was his recovery from an
affection of the spleen which his numerous fevers had bequeathed, that
before he left the island he wrote to Commodore Trotter and other
friends that he was perfectly well, and "quite ready to go back to
Africa again." This, however, was not to be just yet. In November he
sailed through the Red Sea, on the homeward route. He had expected to
land at Southampton, and there Mrs. Livingstone and other friends had
gone to welcome him. But the perils of travel were not yet over. A
serious accident befell the ship, which might have been followed by
fatal results but for that good Providence that held the life of
Livingstone so carefully. Writing to Mrs. Livingstone from the Bay of
Tunis (27th November, 1856), he says:
"We had very rough weather after leaving Malta, and yesterday
at midday the shaft of the engine--an enormous mass of
malleable iron--broke with a sort of oblique fracture,
evidently from the terrific strains which the tremendous seas
inflicted as they thumped and tossed this gigantic vessel
like a plaything. We were near the island called Zembra,
which is in sight of the Bay of Tunis. The wind, which had
been a full gale ahead when we did not require it, now fell
to a dead calm, and a current was drifting our gallant ship,
with her sails flapping all helplessly, against the rocks;
the boats were provisioned, watered, and armed, the number
each was to carry arranged (the women and children to go in
first, of course), when most providentially a wind sprung up
and carried us out of danger into the Bay of Tunis, where I
now write. The whole affair was managed by Captain Powell
most admirably. He was assisted by two gentlemen whom we all
admire--Captain Tregear of the same Company, and Lieutenant
Chimnis of the Royal Navy, and though they and the sailors
knew that the vessel was so near destruction as to render it
certain that we should scarcely clear her in the boats before
the swell would have overwhelmed her, all was managed so
quietly that none of us passengers knew much about it. Though
we saw the preparation, no alarm spread among us. The Company
will do everything in their power to forward us quickly and
safely. I'm only sorry for your sake, but patience is a great
virtue, you know. Captain Tregear has been six years away
from his family, I only four and a half."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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