THE DISCOVERER OF LIVINGSTONE.

Globe, Volume III, Issue 241, 18 March 1875, Page 3

THE DISCOVERER OF LIVINGSTONE.

Some time ago the proprietors of the London Daily Telegraph and the proprietors 'of the New York Herald joined in sending Mr Stanley, the discoverer of Livingstone, on another journey of discovery in Africa. Several despatches have been received from Mr Stanley, from which we make a few extracts. He has arrived at Zanzibar, and thus describes the town of that name ; “ The town of Zanzibar rises from the beach in nearly a crescent form, white, glaring, and unsymmetrical. The narrow, tall, whitewashed house of the reigning Prince Barghash bin Said towers almost in the centre of the first line of buildings; close to it on the right, as you stand looking at the town from shipboard, is the saluting battery, which numbers some thirty guns or thereabouts ; and behind rises a mere shell of a dingy old Portuguese fort, which might almost be knocked into pieces by a few rounds from Snider muskets. Hard by the water battery is the German consul’s house, as neat as clean whitewash can make an Arab building, and next to this edifice rises the double residence and offices of her Britannic Majesty’s Assistant

Political Resident, surmounted by the most ambitious of flagstaffs. Next comes an English merchant’s house, and then the buildings occupied by Mr Augustus Sparhawk, the agent of the great house of John Bertram and Co, of Salem, Massachusetts; while between the English merchant’s house and the Bertram agency, in neighbourly proximity, is seen the snow-white house of Mr Frederick M. Cheney, agent of Arnold, Hines, and Co, of New York; and beyond all, at the extreme right, on the far end of the crescent, at Shanghai Point, appears in isolated vastness the English residency, which was formerly the house of Bishop Tozer and his scanty flock of useful converts. If you start again from that central and prominent point, the palace of his highness, and intend to take a searching view of the salient objects of observation along the sea front of the town, you will observe that to the left of the water battery are a number of sheds roofed with palm fronds, and that in front of these is about the only thing resembling a wharf visible on the beach. This you will be told is the Zanzibar Custom House. There may be a native dhow discharging her cargo, and lines of burly strong laborers come and go—go and come—continually, bearing to the Custom House bales, packages, ivory tusks, and what not, and returning for fresh burdens; while on the wharf turbaned Arabs and long-shirted halfcastes either superintend the work or from idle curiosity stand by to look on. Moving the eye leftward of the Custom House to a building of noble dimensions, you will see that mixture of richness of wood work with unkempt slovenliness and general untidiness or semi-decay, which attracts the traveller in almost all large Turkish and Arab houses, whether in Turkey, Egypt, or Arabia. This is the new palace of Prince Burgash. The dark-brown verandah, with its open lattice work, interlaced bars of wood, and infinitesimal carving—the best work of an Arab artisan strikes one as peculiarly adapted for a glowing climate like this of Zanzibar. But if the eye surmounts that woodwork it will find itself shocked at observing the half-finished roof and the seams of light which fall through it, and the dingy whitewash and the semi-ruinous state of the upper part of the structure. A little left of this stand two palatial buildings, which for size dwarf even the British Residency. One is the house of Nassur bin Said, the Prime Minister of his Highness ; the other is inhabited by the Sultan’s harem. Beyond these large buildings are not many more. The compact line of solid buildings becomes broken by unsightly sheds with thatched roofs. This is the Melinde quarter, a place devoted to the sale of fish, fruit, &c, to which new European arrivals are banished to seek residences among the few stone houses to be found there. Past Melinde is the shallow Malagash inlet; the cause—l may say the main, perhaps the only cause of the unhealthiness of the town of Zanzibar—and, beyond the Malagash inlet extends the country, like a rich, prolific garden, teeming with tropical plants and trees, sloping gently upward as far as the purpling ridges of Elaysu.”