Da Gama’s fleet sailed on to Calicut in India but had to leave precipitately, pursued by many small boats. On the return voyage the crew were so afflicted by scurvy that “their gums grew over their teeth so that they could not eat”, and thirty men died. “We had come to such a pass that all bonds of discipline had gone”.
On 7 January 1499 the ships once more anchored off Malindi and were hospitably received with the customary gifts of goats and fruit. Assurances of friendship were once more exchanged between the King and Vasco da Gama. The crews had the opportunity of recuperating on a diet of fruit, fowls and eggs, which were brought to the ships in large quantities for barter. Seven of them were unable to make up in time the privations they had suffered in the last few months and they died in Malindi. In accordance with Vasco da Gama’s wish, the King consented to the erection of a heraldic pillar, the usual memorial put up on the Portuguese voyages of discovery. It was dedicated to the Holy Ghost. Today there still stands, on a small promontory near the sea close to and southwards of Malindi; an old grey conical pillar, built of coral rock and surmounted by a cross bearing the Portuguese coat of arms. This can scarcely be that erected on the original voyage, but will be one put up by the Portuguese of a later century on the same spot as a replacement of the original, for the position corresponds to that of the earliest descriptions. The pillar is therefore rightly marked on modern charts as the “Vasco da Gama Pillar” – a visible reminder of the original voyage of discovery.
The Portuguese Period in East Africa Justus Strandes.
The homeward voyage was beset by troubles but, on 20 August 1499, da Gama saw his native land again. Of the 160 men who had set out, only 55 returned. The Portuguese continued to rule the coastal cities, uneasily, for the next two hundred years. After their expulsion by the Arabs in 1729, the powerful el-Mazrui clan governed Mombasa island, nominally on behalf of their overlord in Oman, the Imam of Muscat. In 1815 the current el-Mazrui governor sent a defiant message to the Imam, and appealed to the British governor in Bombay for protection against anticipated reprisals. His appeal was twice rejected. Thereupon the Mazrui stitched up a British flag of their own. Two British warships, HMS Barracouta and HMS Leven, were cruising along the coast on survey duties. Captain William Owen of HMS Leven was imbued with a crusading passion to extirpate the “hell-born traffic in slaves”. When, on 8 February 1824, HMS Leven put into Mombasa harbour, the Mazrui’s homemade Union Jack was flying over Fort Jesus.
Lieutenant Reitz immediately went on shore with the interpreter, and was saluted on landing with five guns; but shortly returned with a son of the sheikh’s, who informed us of the Imam’s endeavours to subjugate them, and their exertions to defend their liberty and rights which they had so long been fighting for. He stated that they had now collected twenty-five thousand men, but, having no ships, they feared that they could not succeed without the assistance of the English. In fact, he recapitulated all the arguments before used to Captain Vidal, and concluded by requesting Captain Owen’s permission to place themselves under the British Government and hoist the English colours….
The following morning, Captain Owen went on shore, when he was met by the chiefs who conducted him to a room in the castle, where the members of the council were assembled to receive him. They acknowledged having hoisted the English colours without any authority, but unanimously craved permission to place the whole country under the protection of the British nation. Captain Owen informed them that, provided they would consent to the abolition of the slave trade, he would transmit their proposal to his government for their decision, and that he would have no objections to hold the place in the meantime. To these conditions they readily assented, and made a formal cession of their island, that of Pemba, and the country from Malindi to Pangani. Our third lieutenant, Mr John James Reitz, was made commandant, and Mr George Phillips (midshipman) a corporal of marines, and three seamen were appointed to remain with him until further instructions should be received.
Narrative of Voyages to Explore the Shores of Africa, Arabia and Madagascar performed in HM ships Leven and Barracouta under the direction of Captain W. F. W. Owen, RN, London 1833. From The British in Mombasa 1824–1826 Sir John Gray.
Lieutenant John James Reitz was twenty-three when the governorship of Mombasa, Pemba and the coast from Malindi to Pangani devolved upon him. Four months later he died “in a most awful state of delirium”. His replacement, Acting Lieutenant James Emery, governed Mombasa for nearly two years and survived. Meanwhile, “a voluminous and prolonged discussion” between London, Muscat and Bombay ended in the arrival at Mombasa of HMS Helicon; on 26 July 1826 the British flag was hauled down over Fort Jesus and Lieutenant Emery with his small garrison and some liberated slaves sailed away, leaving the people of Mombasa to their fate. For the Mazrui clan, it was a grim one; its leaders were either thrown overboard to drown or starved to death in prison in Oman. The export of slaves from the interior continued for another seventy years until the declaration of the second, this time official, British Protectorate in 1895.
In spite of edicts of the Sultan of Zanzibar, legal orders promulgated by the Chartered Co., and also of every effort made by the Naval squadron to crush slavery, it died slowly, and if the mango trees sheltering the little Arab settlements hidden away up the tidal creeks on the East Coast could speak, they would have some curious tales to tell of dhows creeping out to sea in the dead of night, laden with human freight and bound for Arabia …
Kenya: From Chartered Company to Crown Colony C. W. Hobley.
It has been estimated that twenty thousand to thirty thousand slaves were exported annually from the Sultan of Oman’s East African dominions. They were the survivors of the many more who had started on their via dolorosa from the interior.
Johann Ludwig Krapf, a German pastor in the employ of Britain’s Church Missionary Society, arrived in Mombasa in March 1844 hoping to start a mission to the Galla people inland. Within three months he was prostrated by fever which carried off his wife and new-born daughter. He was joined by Johann Rebmann and the two missionaries established a base at Rabai near Mombasa. In 1848 both men set out to explore inland with a view to opening mission stations, Krapf to the country of the Wakamba, and Rebmann to that of the Chagga. Rebmann took only nine porters, and on 11 May
In the midst of a great wilderness, full of wild beasts, such as rhinoceroses, buffaloes, and elephants, we slept beneath thorn-bushes, quietly and securely under God’s gracious protection! This morning we discerned the mountains of Jagga more distinctly than ever; and about ten o’clock, I fancied I saw the summit of one of them covered with a dazzlingly white cloud. My guide called the white which I saw, merely “Beredi”, cold; it was perfectly clear to me, however, that it could be nothing else but snow. Resting for a while soon afterwards under a tree, I read in the English Bible the 111th Psalm, to which I came in the order of my reading. The promise made a lasting impression upon me, in sight of the magnificent snow-mountain; for the sixth verse expresses so majestically and clearly that of which I had only noted down the presentiment in my journal on Saturday last.3 …
The wounds on my feet prevented me from leaving my hut until the 20th of May. The king’s vizier and other chief men of the land visited me several times almost every day. On the 14th I was asked by some of them, with the aid of what weapons I had come thither? To which my guide at once replied, that I had nothing with me but my umbrella; but I added, pointing to Heaven, that “I had come, trusting in God, the Christians’ ‘Eruwa’, alone!”4 They rejoined: “In Eruwa alone!” “Yes,” I said, “for He alone is all and everything, and wild beasts, as well as wicked men, are in His hand.” They could scarcely believe, much less understand, how I could have made so long a journey without spear and shield, or without the use of powerful enchantments.
Travels, Researches and Missionary Labours Johann Ludwig Krapf.
On 11 July 1849 Krapf left Rabai with a few Wanika porters and his trusty umbrella intending to start a mis
sion to the Wakamba. He camped near the village of a friendly chief called Kivoi, where he heard news of another snow-capped mountain unknown to the rest of the world. The missionaries’ reports of snow on the equator was greeted with scepticism in London.
With respect to those eternal snows on the discovery of which Messrs Krapf and Rebmann have set their hearts, they have so little of shape or substance, and appear so severed from realities, that they take quite a spectral character. No one has yet witnessed their eternity; dogmatic assertion proves nothing; of reasonable evidence of perpetual snow there is not a tittle offered.
W. D. Cooley, Inner Africa Laid Open, (1852). From East Africa Through Contemporary Records Zoë Marsh.
Krapf’s entry in his diary for 10 November 1849 disposed of Mr Cooley’s arguments.
This morning we had a beautiful distant view of the snow-mountain, Kilimanjaro, in Jagga. It was high above Endara and Bura, yet even at this distance I could discern that its white crown must be snow. All the arguments which Mr Cooley has adduced against the existence of such a snow-mountain, and against the accuracy of Rebmann’s report, dwindle into nothing when one has the evidence of one’s own eyes of the fact before one; so that they are scarcely worth refuting.
Krapf confirmed his sighting of Mount Kenya less than a month later.
However, it happened that on leaving Kitui on the 3rd of December, 1849 I could see the Kegnia most distinctly, and observed two large horns or pillars, as it were, rising over an enormous mountain to the north-west of the Kilimanjaro, covered with a white substance.
Travels, Researches and Missionary Labours Johann Ludwig Krapf.
Kivoi invited Krapf to accompany him, together with a party of Kivoi’s wives, attendants and slaves, to the upper reaches of the Tana River to recover some ivory he had stored there. After irritating delays caused by Kivoi’s search first for the missing handle of Krapf’s umbrella and then for some ostrich feathers,
Kivoi’s slaves on a sudden pointed towards the forest towards which we were marching from the grassy and treeless plain. I ran to Kivoi’s side, and saw a party of about ten men emerging from the forest, and soon afterwards came other and larger parties from another side, evidently with the object of surrounding us. Our whole caravan was panic-stricken, and the cry, “Meida”, they are robbers, ran through our ranks, upon which Kivoi fired off his gun, and bade me do the same. After we had fired thrice the robbers began to relax their pace, probably because they had heard the whistling of our bullets through the air. In the confusion and the hurry of loading I had left my ramrod in the barrel of my gun and fired it off, so that I could not load again. Whilst we were firing and our caravan was preparing for a conflict, Kivoi ordered one of his wives to open my umbrella, when the robbers immediately slackened their speed. They were also obstructed by the grass, which Kivoi had set on fire that the wind might blow the flames in their faces…. A great confusion arose; our people threw away their burdens, and discharged their arrows at the enemy, begging me imploringly to fire as quickly as I could. I fired twice, but in the air; for I could not bring myself to shed the blood of man. Whilst I was reloading a Mkamba rushed past me wounded in the hip, a stream of blood flowing from him. Right and left fell the arrows at my feet, but without touching me. When our people saw that they could not cope with an enemy 120 strong they took to flight. Rumu wa Kikandi and his people ran away and left me quite alone.
I deemed it now time to think of flight …
Krapf, now quite alone, without sustenance or means of defence – he had stopped the barrels of his gun with strips of torn trouser-leg and filled them with water – had to make his way through unknown and dangerous country to Kivoi’s, knowing that the chief was almost certainly dead.
I wended on my way through thick and thin, often tumbling into little pits, or over stones and trunks of trees; but the thorns and the tall grass impeded me most of all, and I was troubled, too, by thoughts of the many wild beasts known to be in the neighbourhood of the Dana (Tana). I was so impeded and wearied by the tall grass that I determined to lie down and sleep, even if I were to die here in the wilderness; for it seemed as if I never should reach the coast again; but then I thought, straightway, that in no situation should man despair, but do the utmost for self-preservation and put his trust in God as to the issue. I called to mind Mungo Park who had been in a similar strait in Western Africa. So, taking courage I marched forward again as swiftly as I could, and in due course emerged from the jungle and reached the great plain in which Kivoi had set fire to the grass. I now felt in better spirits, as I could proceed more quickly and with fewer obstructions. About midnight I came to a mountain which we had noticed in the course of our journey hither. As it had no name, I called it Mount William, in memory of the audience granted me in 1850, by his Majesty Frederick William IV of Prussia. This mountain commands a view of the whole region of the Dana, and serves as a landmark for the caravans which journey towards Ukambani, or towards Kikuyu and Mberre. Believing myself on the right track, I lay down behind a bush; for I was so wearied out that I could scarcely keep my feet, and for protection against the keen wind which blew over the plain, I cut some dry grass and spread it over and under my body…. After I had started again, I felt the pangs of hunger and thirst; the water in my telescope-case had run out, and that in the barrels of my gun which I had not drunk, had been lost on my way to Mount William, as the bushes had torn out the grass stoppers, and so I lost a portion of the invaluable fluid which, in spite of the gunpowder-flavour imparted to it by the barrels, thirst had rendered delicious. My hunger was so great that I tried to chew leaves, roots, and elephant’s excrement to stay it, and when day broke to break my fast on ants. The roar of a lion would have been music in my ears, trusting he would provide me with a meal. A little before daybreak I did hear a lion roar, and immediately afterwards the cry of an animal which, however, soon ceased; for no doubt, the lion had seized his prey; but the direction from which the cry came was too distant for me to risk leaving my route and to descend into the plain.
Travels, Researches and Missionary Labours Johann Ludwig Krapf.
Krapf reached Kivoi’s territory more dead than alive, only to be accused of failing to protect the chief who had, indeed, been killed. Escaping from his captors, he struggled on by night, hiding by day and sustained by sugar cane taken from the shambas, to reach the remnants of his caravan and his half-starved Wanika porters. Another three hundred painful miles separated them from Rabai, which they reached on 28 September 1851. Broken in health, Krapf left Mombasa in 1853 but returned to Abyssinia, to be finally forced by sickness and exhaustion to retire to Stuttgart, where he died in 1881. It fell to Joseph Thomson, fifth son of a Scottish stonemason, to open a route across the highlands of the future Kenya, hitherto barred to travellers by Maasai warriors. In March 1883, aged twenty-five, he left Mombasa with a caravan of 140 porters accompanied by James Martin, born Antonio Martini, a Maltese sail-maker, and sponsored by the Royal Geographical Society. Their first encounter with the Maasai soon followed.
The news of our arrival soon spread. The Masai men and women began to crowd into camp, and we mutually surveyed each other with equal interest. The women had all the style of the men. With slender, well-shaped figures, they had brilliant dark eyes, Mongolian in type, narrow, and with an upward slant. Their expression was distinctly lady-like (for natives), and betrayed their ideas in more ways than one. Obviously they felt that they were a superior race, and that all others were but as slaves before them….
Tents having been pitched, and goods stacked, properly covered from peering eyes, and surrounded with a strong guard, the more serious business of the day commenced. Wire, beads, and cloth were taken into the tent, so that we might prepare to dole out the black mail – the “chango” of this district, the “hongo” of the region further south. We had not long to wait. A war-chant was heard in the distance, and soon a party of El-moran, in all the unctuous glory of a new plastering of grease and red clay, appeare
d, marching in single file, and keeping step to their song, their murderous spears gleaming in the sun as they gave them now and then a rotatory movement. They carried their heavy shields by their side, on which was seen the newly-painted heraldic device of their particular clan. As they neared our camp they halted, and proceeded to go through a variety of evolutions distinctly military. This finished, Muhinna advanced, and held a consultation with them in the decorous manner already described.
This conversation settled the amount we were required to pay. For each party (and there were six of them) we had to make up six senengè (a senengè is a coil of twenty rings of iron wire about fifteen inches in diameter, which forms one leg ornament when coiled round from ankle to knee), five cloths (naiberès), thirty iron chains, and one hundred strings of beads. The scene that ensued on the division of the spoil was more after my preconceived notion of their ways, but was not encouraging. The El-moran, having laid aside their spears and shields, stand ready in a hollow group. My men, advancing with the hongo, suddenly throw it into the midst, and run for their lives out of the way. With a grand yell the warriors precipitate themselves upon the articles, on the principle of “every one for himself and the devil take the hindmost”. A few of the boldest get the lion’s share. In some cases two have seized the same article. It may be a bunch of beads, and the matter is settled by the strings being torn in twain, each one carrying off a handful, leaving a large number strewed on the ground. If, however, the disputants have seized a senengè, then the matter becomes more serious. They rave and tear like a couple of dogs over a bone, and if somewhat equally matched the blood gets heated and simès are drawn, or knobkerries wielded. Two men thus received some very ugly flesh-wounds, which, however, did not draw forth any comment from the on-lookers. A pack of half-starved wolves suddenly let loose on small animals could not have made a more ferocious and repulsive exhibition.
Nine Faces Of Kenya Page 5