The Last Journals of David Livingstone, in Central Africa, from 1865 to His Death, Volume I (of 2), 1866-1868

In Short

This volume captures the initial years of a final, desperate expedition into Central Africa. Part travelogue, part scientific log, and part moral indictment, it chronicles a journey through uncharted mountains, rivers, and villages. The author’s meticulous daily jottings offer a rare, intimate view of a man grappling with illness, isolation, and the horrific realities of human trafficking. It has endured as a profound testament to nineteenth-century endurance and as a foundational, if complex, record of the geographical and human landscape of the African interior before the height of colonial expansion.

The Story

The narrative begins in 1866 with a difficult arrival on the East African coast. From the outset, the journey is defined by the struggle against the environment and the remnants of the slave trade. As the expedition moves inland, the geography shifts from swampy, mangrove-choked lowlands to high, granitic plateaus. Each entry serves as a waypoint in a relentless, years-long march through modern-day Tanzania, Zambia, and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The author encounters various chiefs, such as the powerful Mataka, with whom he debates the merits of local agriculture versus the destructive lure of the slave economy.

As the journey deepens, the tone grows increasingly somber. The author moves through a region ravaged by both the "Mazitu" raiders and the systematic depopulation caused by Arab slave-traders. He frequently discovers the bodies of victims left behind on the paths, noting their conditions with a clinical, pained precision. He views these atrocities not merely as local skirmishes but as a fundamental blight on the region’s potential. Despite his weakening health—often brought low by debilitating fevers that leave him bedridden for days—he maintains an obsessive focus on his scientific mission. He records the flow of rivers, the movement of the stars, and the geological composition of the earth, all in a fervent, lifelong bid to solve the mystery of the Nile’s sources.

The arc of the book is one of gradual attrition. The expedition loses pack animals to the tsetse fly and experiences constant friction with unreliable guides and deserting porters. Yet, the author refuses to turn back. He pushes into the regions around Lake Tanganyika and Lake Mweru, recording the lives of the people he encounters with a mix of curiosity and cultural distance. He describes the elaborate tribal tattoos, the agricultural techniques, and the complex social hierarchies of the tribes, even while he remains a man apart, constantly mourning his distance from family and home. By the end of this volume, the author is physically spent and deeply isolated, yet his intellectual drive remains undimmed. He continues to measure, calculate, and observe, his writing reflecting both the vast, untamed beauty of the interior and the grim, encroaching reality of a life being consumed by a single, all-encompassing task. The volume closes with the author still deep in the field, pressing eastward, his notes continuing with the same meticulous, unwavering intensity as the day he first set foot on the continent.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The expedition departs from the coast near the Rovuma River, immediately contending with flooded terrain and the loss of animals to the tsetse fly. The author documents the shift from fertile lowlands to the drier, rocky landscape of the interior.

Entering the interior The party encounters various local chiefs, such as Mataka, engaging in long, often tense discussions about trade, the use of oxen, and the potential for a different economic future. The author struggles with the unreliable nature of his attendants and the pervasive hunger that plagues the march.

The shadow of the slave trade The path becomes littered with the grim evidence of human exploitation, as the author encounters groups of captives and witnesses the aftermath of slave-raiding parties. He writes with growing indignation, framing these horrors as the primary obstacle to the region’s development.

Scientific rigor in solitude As the author navigates toward Lake Mweru and the surrounding river systems, he maintains a relentless schedule of astronomical and geographical observation. Despite being chronically ill, he spends his stationary days calculating coordinates and recording the biological details of the flora and fauna.

The final march The volume concludes with the party moving through the high, damp mountain ridges, facing torrential rains and the constant threat of fever. The author remains focused on his map-making and his theories regarding the hydrography of the Nile, refusing to abandon the mission.

The People

David Livingstone serves as the primary lens through which the reader views the interior. Driven by a mix of imperial curiosity and a genuine, albeit paternalistic, desire to see the slave trade abolished, he is a man of intense discipline and fading physical strength. He is often lonely, frequently ill, and perpetually frustrated by the cultural misunderstandings that arise between him and his porters or the local chiefs.

Mataka, a powerful tribal leader, represents the local autonomy Livingstone struggles to engage. He is a man of wit and influence, initially more interested in the prospects of the ivory and slave trade than in the scientific and agricultural reforms Livingstone proposes. Over time, their relationship evolves into a cautious, sometimes argumentative friendship.

Chuma and Susi, the author’s "faithful servants," emerge as the unsung constants of the journey. While they are often mentioned in the context of the logistical failures and successes of the party, their presence provides the necessary, if largely implicit, support that allows the author to continue his work. They act as the bridge between the author and the local populations, mediating disputes and managing the daily grind of survival.

In Its Own Voice

"This was in 1865: it affected me not a little."

The author reflects on receiving the news of his mother’s death while far from home.

"The idea of the great Mataka in 'chokee' made him wince, and the laugh turned for once against him."

Livingstone recounts a moment of levity during a tense negotiation with a powerful chief.

"I am always ill when not working; I spend my time writing letters, to be ready when we come to Ujiji."

The author describes the cycle of fever and labor that defines his existence in the interior.

What It's Really About

At its core, this is a record of human obsession. The author is driven by a singular, unyielding purpose—finding the sources of the Nile—but the text is preoccupied with the moral decay caused by the slave trade. The geography of the book mirrors the author’s internal state: a vast, beautiful, and sometimes hostile wilderness that demands everything from the person attempting to map it. It asks whether a life can be justified by its singular pursuit, and whether the external, scientific knowledge gained is worth the toll of profound, lingering isolation. It is a dialogue between the author’s Victorian sense of duty and the uncaring, expansive reality of the African landscape.

Why Read It Today

Readers with an interest in the history of exploration or the complex, often difficult legacy of nineteenth-century interaction with Africa will find this an essential, if taxing, read. It is not a light travelogue; it is a dense, repetitive, and often harrowing document of a man slowly dissolving into his own mission.

The prose is precise and observational, but the reader must be prepared for the author’s period-specific attitudes and the frequent, detailed accounts of illness and environmental hardship. The book moves at the pace of a foot-march, with many entries preoccupied by the minutiae of daily survival—weather, food, and the state of the terrain. However, the reward for the reader is an intimate, unfiltered look at a historical figure in his final, most vulnerable years. The sense of solitude that permeates these pages is deeply affecting, and the author's ability to remain observant and analytical while suffering from chronic, debilitating health issues is nothing short of remarkable. It stays with you as a meditation on the limits of human endurance and the high cost of a life lived entirely on the frontier of the known world.