Part 65

"September 19th.--Sloop's boat arrived with the sick, and Johnson dead. Went on shore with Captain Gunther and some of the transport's people, and buried him--so putrid that I was obliged to bury him in his cot, with all his bedding.

"September 20th.--Sick improving generally; transport getting ready for sea. Congo not in sight. Sent skiff to Congo. At 6 p.m. Garth dies. Skiff returns; has left Congo near Augsberg Island. Parrots prevent all possibility of sleeping to the sick.

"September 21st.--Hazy morning. Congo not in sight at nine. An order for all parrots to be before the fore-hatchway. Buried Garth. Durnford and Burton attacked with fever; Lockhart unwell, and Ben. Two of transport's people ill. Jefferies, fever; Ben wishes to remain at M'Bima. At 6 p.m. Congo and schooner anchored here. Dr. Smith appears to be in a stupor.

"September 22nd.--Close morning. Getting stores, etc., from Congo; cleaning her decks; preparing to get her water-tanks filled. Dr. Smith still in a stupor. Sick generally better, except the captain and Parker. Weighed with Dorothy and sloop; beat down with sea-breeze. Dr. Smith, poor fellow, dies, quite worn out; in some measure from his own imprudent treatment of himself, constantly refusing to follow the doctor's advice or to take any medicine; cold water was his only specific. He died without a groan. Mild, affable, and learned, it was his greatest pleasure to communicate information, and to receive it. He had conciliated the affections of all his fellow-passengers, and even of all the crews of both vessels. Anchored at dark, sloop not in sight. Hoisted a light, to be kept up all night.

"September 23rd.--At night buried the mortal remains of Dr. Smith, as silently as possible. No sloop in sight; very uneasy on account of the sick. Hot weather; sprinkled with vinegar; Tuckey much better. Sloop arrives; reason of not joining before, does not beat well.

"September 24th.--Cloudy morning; small rain. Dorothy sets up her rigging. Set sail on Dorothy, but she could not stem the current, which is very strong. The corporal, Middleton, is the only man out of the sick list.

"September 25th.--Cloudy morning; land breeze until noon. Two bottles of wine were stolen from the sick last night. Congo in sight, and schooner, the latter coming up the river; anchored here. Removed all the sick from the sloop to the Dorothy.

"September 26th.--Grey morning. Paid our blacks, and as soon as we weighed turned them adrift in the large canoe. Weighed and worked round Sharks' Point; felt quite happy when to the westward of it. On the 5th July we entered the Congo, and since then thirteen of our party have died and one has been drowned. Sick generally better; seventeen on the list. Tuckey hailed for assistance previous to our weighing; talks of giving up charge."

On September 30th Lieutenant Hawkey enters the death of Lethbridge and of Eyre.

On October 1st enters: "Taken very unwell myself--universal debility and slight headache.

"October 2nd.--Cloudy. Standing to the west all day. Very unwell.

"October 3rd.--Cloudy, with swell. Still very unwell. Swallow caught."

This is the last entry in the diary. On the day following Captain Tuckey died; and on October 6th Lieutenant Hawkey's own name was added to the fatal list of those who perished in this most disastrous expedition. In all eighteen died in the short space of less than three months during which they remained in the river, or within a few days after leaving it. Fourteen of these were of the party that had set out on the land journey above Juga; the other four were attacked on board the Congo; two had died on the passage out, and the sergeant of marines in the hospital at Bahia, making the total of deaths amount to twenty-one.

This great mortality is the more extraordinary, as it appears from Captain Tuckey's journal that nothing could have been finer than the climate: the atmosphere was remarkably dry, and scarcely a shower fell during the whole journey, and the sun for three or four days did not shine sufficiently to allow of an observation being taken.

It appears from the report of the assistant surgeon that the greater number were carried off by a violent intermittent fever; some of them appeared, however, to have had no other ailment than that caused by extreme exhaustion caused by the land journey. Some of the crew of the Congo died of the fever who never went above the cataracts; "but then," as the surgeon observes, "they were permitted to go on shore at liberty, where the day was passed in running about the country, and during the night lying in huts or in the open air."

The Gentleman's Magazine for January, 1817, gives a brief summary of the achievements of the expedition. "They arrived at the mouth of the Congo about the 3rd July, and leaving the transport, which only accompanied them an inconsiderable distance, they proceeded in the sloop, which was purposely built to draw little water, up the river to the extent of 120 miles, when her progress, and even that of the boats, was stopped by rapids. Determined still to prosecute the undertaking, the men landed, and it was not till they had marched 150 miles over a barren, mountainous country, and after experiencing the greatest privations from want of water, and being entirely exhausted by fatigue, that they gave up the attempt. Hope stayed them up till they reached the vessel, but they were so worn out that twenty-five out of the fifty-five died twenty-four hours after their return, comprehending all the scientific part of those who started, and only eight were left on board in a state fit to navigate the vessel."

That there is some inaccuracy in this account will be seen from what has preceded it.

The authority for the story of this unfortunate expedition is Sir John Barrow's edition of the narrative of the expedition, with the diary of Captain Tuckey, published in 1819; and Miss Charlotte Hawkey's Neota, privately printed in 1871.

DR. DANIEL LOMBARD

Lanteglos with Camelford is one of the richest livings in Cornwall. Lanteglos itself is nearly two miles from Camelford, and in this latter place there is neither a church nor a licensed chapel. A few scattered farms are about Lanteglos; and in Camelford, which is a market town, there is a population of 1370, left to be ministered to in holy things by dissenting ministers of many sects.

The rectory of Lanteglos lies in a valley, amidst luxuriant vegetation, and is altogether a very snug spot indeed.

In February, 1718, the Rev. Daniel Lombard was inducted into this living on the presentation of the Prince of Wales. He was a Frenchman, the son of a Huguenot pastor, who had fled from his native land on the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes. Daniel had been placed in Merchant Taylors' School, and thence had passed to S. John's College, Oxford, where he had taken his degree of Doctor of Divinity, and he became chaplain to the Princess of Wales, and in 1714 published a sermon that he had preached before the Princess Sophia at Hanover. He spent a good deal of time in Germany, and there made the acquaintance of Mr. Gregor, of Trewarthenick, with whom in after life he maintained a lengthy correspondence, still extant.

From all accounts Dr. Lombard was learned on certain lines, but he was totally unacquainted with the ways of the world, utterly unsuited to be a parish priest, and lost completely in the isolation of Lanteglos, far from society in which he could shine; and speaking English badly with a foreign accent.

After his institution by the Bishop of Exeter to the livings of Lanteglos juxta Camelford and that of Advent, Dr. Lombard started off to reach his cure, mounted on one horse, and his servant on another, driving a third laden with such articles as appeared to him to be indispensable in a country where he supposed that nothing was procurable.

He rode in this manner along the highway past Launceston, inquiring everywhere, "Vere ish Landéglo juxtà Camélvore?" No one had heard of the place; after some consideration the rustics pointed due west. He must go on one or two days' journey more. He thus travelled through Camelford, still inquiring "Mais où donc est Landéglo juxtà Camélvore?"

"I know what he means," said some of those questioned; "the gentleman is seeking the Land's End."

And so he travelled on and ever on till he reached the Land's End, and only then discovered that he had passed through his cure without knowing it.

When at last he reached Lanteglos rectory, the woman who acted as housekeeper showed him with much pride a hen surrounded by a large brood of chickens. "Deare me!" exclaimed the Doctor. "'Ow can von liddle moder afford to give milk from her breast to soche a large familie?"