by Tim Jeal
Bennett had read and admired Stanley's despatches from the Plains, but he still had no intention of offering him a staff position, or even paying his expenses for a perfectly good story like the Ethiopian one. So when Henry asked the mogul to pay him to cover the expedition `as a special or at a moderate salary', Bennett slapped him down. Americans, he said, had very little interest in Africa. Stanley asked whether, if Bennett paid him instead by the letter, he could write for other papers too. The young proprietor replied regally: `We do not like to share our news that way; but we would be willing to pay well for exclusive intelligence.' Only when Stanley had agreed to pay his own expenses and to write for the Herald alone was he at last told what he had hoped to hear, namely that if he made a success of his assignment and got his copy in promptly, he would be placed on `the permanent list'. So by putting up with wholly unreasonable terms, Henry had got himself a trial for a permanent post on America's most profitable newspaper. Now all he had to do was deliver the goods, and who could say what other great stories he might not soon be covering? Holding in his hand James Gordon Bennett Jr's letter of authority to his London agent, Stanley left the room feeling that from now on anything was possible.35
The campaign destined to make or mar Stanley's fortunes was a tragicomic affair. Theodore, Emperor of Ethiopia, was an Orthodox Ethiopian Christian who until recently had enjoyed diplomatic relations with Britain and France, and had been presented with a pair of engraved duelling pistols by Queen Victoria. His great ambition was for his envoys to be received by the Queen in London. Unfortunately, the Emperor's letter requesting this royal reception was docketed by Foreign Office clerks and then unintentionally mislaid. After nine months of silence, the enraged Theodore imprisoned the British consul, Captain Charles Cameron, along with the French consul and twenty white missionaries. From time to time he manacled them, and let them hear the screams of Ethiopian prisoners being murdered in nearby cells. After protracted efforts to get him to free the envoys, the British government sent an ultimatum, and when it was not complied with, declared war. To be sent to report on this peculiar `little war' could hardly have been a better task for a man eager to re-invent himself.
On zo January r 868, he arrived at Suez, where he promptly bribed the senior telegraph clerk to send his telegrams in advance of all the others. This was undoubtedly `sharp practice' but, in his defence, Stanley was on trial for his future career and was paying all his own expenses. Failure would leave him jobless and penniless. At Annesley Bay, on the Horn of Africa, Henry found thirty steamers at anchor and 30,000 men (including 11 3,600 fighting troops, and their supports and servants) encamped behind the baking sand dunes. Also present were z, 500 horses, 44 elephants and r 6,ooo mules. Given that the opposition was an African ruler with an untrained army, primitive firearms, and artillery pieces that were as likely to kill their operators as the enemy, this was a case of taking a very large sledgehammer to crack a very small nut. From the beginning Stanley noted with derision `the silver helmets' of the cavalry officers, and `young lordlings wearing kid gloves and green veils'. Initially, he felt mistrustful of the officer class.
I am under the impression that they consider me to be an unsophisticated kind of a Yankee, for I am sensible that I am the object of a good deal of chaff. They tell me all manner of incredible stories and sometimes so seriously that I do not know what to believe ... They have servants, even to fan them and keep them cool.36
It was a strange experience to be passing himself off as an American while living among fellow Britons, but Henry did not become churlish, even when referred to by some young officers as `Jefferson Brick' - the name of the pushy young American journalist in Charles Dickens's Martin Chuzzlewit. In fact, the senior officers were very pleasant to him, especially the commander-in-chief, General Sir Robert Napier. When invited to dine with the general and his staff, Stanley enjoyed their erudite conversation even more than the food.37 Incredibly, only a year earlier, the man who dined so cordially with General Napier had dressed up in a bogus uniform to impress his neglectful mother. Stanley's American impersonation was advantageous. As a foreigner, he was not labelled as belonging to any class. He therefore got on well with most members of the press corps. From the Daily Telegraph's correspondent, Lord Adare, he bought an Arab stallion for £6o. By the end of the campaign he was almost penniless, but he had enjoyed riding a horse better bred than many of those owned by the aristocratic officers. Later, he sold this stallion to James Gordon Bennett Jr."
The march inland to Theodore's mountain fortress at Magdala was a mere z5o miles as the crow flies, but given its ro,ooo-foot altitude and the formidable ravines and escarpments en route, the actual distance was twice that far. Despite storms and flash floods, the military outcome of the campaign was never in doubt. Theodore's army was routed with heavy casualties, while the British suffered only forty killed in action. Before Magdala fell, 30o Ethiopian prisoners were butchered on Theodore's orders, but the European hostages were spared. The Emperor himself committed suicide with one of the ornamental pistols given him by Queen Victoria.
After outpacing all the other correspondents to the coast, Stanley managed to embark on the same steamer as Colonel Millward, the official courier, who had in his bag General Napier's despatches and some of the British journalists' reports. At Suez, their ship was quarantined for five days but, unlike the unsuspecting Millward, Stanley smuggled his letters ashore and got them to his friend in the Telegraph Office. His reports reached London many days ahead of the official despatches and those of his rivals. By an extraordinary coincidence, a fault developed on the line between Alexandria and Malta only minutes after the clerk had telegraphed Stanley's reports. This served to extend his lead over his rivals by several more days. So when news of Napier's victory appeared only in the New York Herald, there was general incredulity. Mr Bennett greatly enjoyed the discomfiture of the entire British press corps, and praised his man, not only for his speed, but for `his vast superiority in style of writing, minuteness of detail and graphic portrayal'. As might have been expected, Henry Stanley was offered a permanent post on America's best-selling newspaper.39 If, in the whole of his life, he had achieved nothing more remarkable than this scoop, Henry would still have progressed an astonishing distance from his workhouse origins. Yet he considered this to be no more than a modest first step. The time to make the Livingstone story happen was surely approaching.
SIX
How are we to be Married?
By the time Stanley was ready to find Dr Livingstone in the summer of 11868 - and James Gordon Bennett Jr was prepared to send him - they had learned that letters had arrived in Zanzibar from the great explorer, removing the element of mystery required to make locating him a great news story.' In the absence of this stupendous challenge, Henry was at a loss. The two opposing poles of his nature were about to collide: his need for love and security, and his need to escape his old persona through work, adventure and fame. In the summer of 11868, with his big story denied him, his need for love would be given the greater scope. After Stanley had spent a dull month in Alexandria recuperating from African fever, Finley Anderson, the New York Herald's London agent, ordered him to Crete to report on the islanders' independence struggle against Turkish rule.
Henry stopped off, en route, at the island of Siros (Sira), where a number of Cretan refugees were living. On this island he would be powerfully drawn to the idea of marriage, with its promise of love coupled with stability. A shipboard acquaintance had given him an introduction to a local businessman, Christos Evangelides, who turned out to be a keen amateur matchmaker. Stanley was captivated by this white-bearded `cicerone of youth' from the moment he introduced him to a beautiful young woman from a respectable Greek family. This was the sort of girl, said Christos to the smitten Stanley, who would do as her parents wished if they blessed the union. Sixteen-year-old Virginia Ambella lived on the square in Hermopolis (Ermoupolis), and in Henry's eyes `came as near as possible to the realisation of the ideal
which [his] fancy had portrayed'.' But Henry's reverie was cut short when Virginia's mother disconcerted him by asking what he felt about a rapid marriage.
Henry could not decide whether he was involved in `a farcical adventure' or something `serious'. `No doubt ... as beauty goes, Virginia is sufficient,' he decided, but she spoke no English and only a little French. Languages could easily be learned, however, and maybe he should simply go ahead and discover whether marriage could end his sense of being unloved. Though his basic salary of £400 per annum was hardly enough, the thought of marriage thrilled him:
A wife! My wife! ... To be loved with heart and soul above all else, for ever united in thought and sympathy with a fair and virtuous being, whose very touch gave strength and courage and confidence! Oh dear! how my warm imagination glows at the strange idea!3
The following day, Christos confided to Henry that if he proposed, Virginia would say yes. Though powerfully attracted to Virginia, Stanley realized he did not know her at all. Nevertheless, when Evangelides suggested he write `a formal declaration by letter', Henry did so eagerly enough. At this critical moment he had to leave for Greece to report on the baptism of the young Prince Constantine.
Just over two weeks later, on r o September, Henry returned and learned to his joy that he had been accepted. Would he therefore name the day? asked Christos. In a fever of excitement, Stanley suggested the very next Sunday for their marriage. That evening, he was allowed to see Virginia, `and, in a short time, whatever misgivings I may have had as to the wisdom of my act were banished by the touch of her hand, and the trust visible in her eyes'. Ironically, just when Stanley felt that he was ready to marry Virginia, her parents were becoming less sure about him. Could they be certain that he was the well-paid and successful man he appeared to be? When they explained their worries, Henry was full of understanding and offered to send references. The following day Virginia played the piano and sang French and Greek songs. `She is in every way worthy,' he decided.
The day after Stanley sailed from Siros - en route to Alexandria, where he was to await Bennett's instructions - he wrote to a retired Egyptian official, Joseph Hekekyan Bey, whom he had met in Cairo two months earlier, asking him to write commending him to the Ambellas. The Egyptian was now working in the field of antiquities, preparing A Treatise on the Chronology of Siriadic Monuments in twenty-four volumes.4 Just the man to pen a solid reference.
Dear Sir,
I want you to do me a favour - I am in love. The object is a Greek girl steeped in poverty, but famous for her beauty ... The parents refuse to give sanction unless something is known of me ... I know you will do it well ... I have offered to settle on the poor girl $5o per month as long as she lives ... upon receipt of this will you be kind enough to write at once and state to them that by refusing me they have lost a most eligible offer.'
Less than two weeks later Stanley wrote again: `I hope you gave me a good character to my inamorata." Before replying to the Ambellas, Hekekyan Bey had contacted Charles Hale, the American consul in Alexandria, who confirmed that Stanley was with the New York Herald but advised Hekekyan to write a less than enthusiastic reference, since Stanley's long absences on roving assignments would make any future wife unhappy. Henry also wrote to the Missouri Democrat for a reference, but it seems that nothing was sent to the Ambellas.7
Virginia's parents took three months to reach a final decision, which owed less to references than to their fear that once Virginia was married they would see little of her. They therefore vetoed a marriage unless Henry confined his newspaper work to the Mediterranean. Stanley sent several temporizing replies, although knowing he could never accept their terms.8
So how important to Stanley was the Ambella incident? The language barrier, and the extremely artificial circumstances in which they had met, meant that Henry had been much more in love with the idea of marriage than with Virginia herself; but that did not stop him feeling the pain of rejection.' With his loveless background, any kind of dismissal was painful - and the ending of this chimerical romance was no exception. For a while, he became despondent about life in general.
As for me, I know not what I lack to make me happy. I have health, youth and a free spirit; but ... the fluctuations to which the spirit is subject, hour by hour, forever remind me that happiness is not to be secured in this world, except for brief periods.
Though work was his usual panacea for unhappiness, at times escape seemed preferable. He was growing older with little to show for it - or not enough, he felt, to make people respect him. But even if his selfimposed treadmill of work brought him fame through travel, he still might not be happy. `If I could find an island in mid-ocean, remote from the presence or reach of man, with a few necessaries sufficient to sustain life, I might be happy yet; for then I could forget what reminds me of unhappiness."' Of course, an explorer would be in that very situation - isolated and remote from people of his own society.
In October 11868, Stanley was sent to Spain to cover a convulsion already being compared in the world's press with the French Revolution. However, he was not destined to stay long, for on the day he landed in Barcelona, 8 October, a letter from Sir Roderick Murchison, one of David Livingstone's closest friends, was published in The Times. In it, Murchison, the President of the Royal Geographical Society, claimed to have received `telegraphic news' to the effect that Livingstone was heading east to the coast, and was within a few weeks' march of Zanzibar." On the 113th, Stanley received a telegram ordering him to come to London, where on the 116th he saw Finley Anderson, the Herald's London bureau chief, in his office near Trafalgar Square. According to Stanley's diary, Anderson `was rather mysterious, and proposed to defer the subject [of his next assignment] until tomorrow, but I was to remain assured it was no mean mission'. Since Anderson knew very well what had been in The Times on the 8th, and had been aware of Stanley's interest in Livingstone since first meeting him in January 11867, it has to be assumed that he delayed telling him anything definite until a telegram arrived from Bennett giving final approval to an attempt to interview the explorer. Until then, Anderson would not have wanted to enthuse about Livingstone, only to have to disappoint Stanley if Bennett's answer was no12 [see note for additional reasons why Stanley was the originator of the Livingstone mission].
The following day, the 117th, when Stanley returned to Anderson's office, a reply had been received from the great proprietor. Mr Bennett, Henry noted briskly in his diary, `having a high idea of my intelligence and enterprise', had agreed to send `a correspondent to intercept and interview Dr Livingstone, who was reported to be advancing towards the Zanzibar coast'.I" On zo October, Anderson handed Stanley his written instructions: `The New York Herald desires you to proceed to Suez, or if practicable to Zanzibar to meet him ... You may assure him that the people of the United States not less than the people of Great Britain have anxiously looked for his safe return.' And then came an instruction to use the costly Bombay telegraph in the event of success, `regardless of expense'. This was eloquent proof of the extent to which Mr Bennett had been persuaded by Anderson (himself earlier persuaded by Stanley) of the extraordinary public interest that would be aroused by the first sighting of Dr Livingstone by a fellow white man in two and a half years.14
Before Stanley left on what he believed would be his most dangerous and important mission to date, he moved to the Queen's Hotel in St Martin's Le Grand, where Finley Anderson also had rooms. From there he sent a telegram to his mother, Mrs Jones, asking her to come to London at once, bringing with her, if possible, her niece, the attractive but ignorant Catherine Parry, to whom he had taken a fancy on his last visit to Wales. Clearly, he was rallying after the loss of Virginia - but Catherine's mother refused to let her daughter come. So Mrs Jones brought Stanley's half-sister, Emma, then working as a servant near Denbigh. Mrs Jones and Emma were not invited to stay at the Queen's, but between the 118th and zznd were booked in by Henry at a nearby pub, the Castle & Falcon. There he explained to his mother and
half-sister that treats like this one would depend in future on their discretion.
Mother is amazed at what she calls the grandeur of her rooms ... She affects to be now proud of me, but my fear is that her vanity may make public what the public are not likely to regard as creditable either to her or to me. Personally I wish I could sponge out of my memory what makes the past so hideous to me, and persuade mother to keep silence out of regard to my pride and her interests. However indifferent she may be to what her neighbours may say of her, I cannot as yet pretend to be indifferent to what the world may say of me. I want none of its false pity or mock sympathy. But living in a small hamlet in Wales, she cannot understand why I object to publish wherever I go the story of my origin and boyhood ... On the evening of the zznd, she departed with a purse of £ioo, while Emma was made happy with one that contained £z5. I hope the money will not spoil them. On Emma, who is sensible, I can rely, but mother is of a different fibre."'
Elsewhere, Stanley wrote that his gift to his mother was £5o, and to Emma £zo. Even the smaller sums would have been astonishing presents to their recipients, since many working-class people did not earn as much in a year. Since Stanley's salary was £400 per annum, his generosity was remarkable.
So what should we make of this family visit? That Stanley wanted to see his mother before going on a mission that might cost him his life? Maybe - but there is a distinct possibility that by enabling her to be in London for five days and by giving her money, Henry may have experienced a welcome sense of taking charge and wiping out his childhood powerlessness. Since secrecy was essential to the success of his mission, it seems most unlikely that he risked telling his mother or half-sister that he was about to try to find Dr Livingstone. He would certainly never have written to them about it, since both were illiterate and his letters had to be read aloud by a friend of his mother's.i6