The Killing of Dr. Albrecht Roscher

By J. W. Heldring

Africa in the mid-nineteenth century was still very much an unknown continent, its vast lands a source of unceasing interest and mystery La the white man. This was the age of discovery, the decades before the fascination wore off and the scramble for Africa began in earnest Explorers such as Burton, Speke and Livingstone were the names on everyone's lips, In this climate, Albrecht Roscher grew up La be an outstanding young scholar, whose interest in the works of classical writers such as Ptolemy and Herodotus inspired in him a love of geography, science and biology, which the achievements of Burton and others only served to inflame. Africa beckoned.




However, little did he imagine as he left Germany for the shores of East Africa that he would never return. His murder before he managed to fulfill his ambitions has ensured that he has been largely consigned to a footnote in the history of African exploration. In The Killing of Dr Albredlt Roscher Heldring sets out to redress the balance in what is a fitting tribute to a man who, had he lived longer, might have gone on to rival the achievements of Burton, Livingstone and the other great explorers of that age.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 30, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465367860

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Copyright © 2011 by J. W. Heldring.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2011916677

ISBN: Hardcover    978-1-4653-6785-3

ISBN: Softcover      978-1-4653-6784-6

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Contents

I    Approaching the East African Coast

II    Who Was Albrecht Roscher?

III    Ptolemy, the Niger River, the Nile, and the Treatise

IV    First Days in Zanzibar

V    Captain Rigby, British Consul, and Johann Rebmann, Missionary

VI    Maizan

VII    Threats to Sultan Majid’s Throne

VIII    Roscher’s Experiences in Zanzibar, a Cholera Epidemic, and More Polical Unrest

IX    Meeting with Burton and Speke at Kunduchi, Exploring the Rufiji Delta, and First Visit to Kilwa

X    Return to Zanzibar, Fever and Political unrest—Clash between French and British Interests

XI    Second Visit to Kilwa

XII    A Caravan to Lake Nyasa

XIII    Exploding Unrest in Zanzibar and Livingstone’s Zambezi Expedition

XIV    Help on Its Way from Europe

XV    Life along the Shores of the Lake; Fatal Decision to Return to the Ruvuma

XVI    Rigby’s Report

XVII    Witness to an Execution; New Expeditions to the Interior

XVIII    Conclusion and Aftermath

Epilogue

Glossary of Swahili Words

Bibliography

The Killing of Dr. Albrecht Roscher

The Story of a Young German Explorer in

East Africa, 1858-1860

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Dr. Albrecht Roscher

(Photo taken before his departure from Germany to Africa).

To my son Alexander Louis Heldring

Acknowledgment

In writing this book, I have experienced so much cooperation and received valuable help from so many people I had never heard of or seen before in my life. I received encouragement from many. Some of them gave me new directions where to research next, often accompanied with introductions to make new contacts. I have to thank all of them for their invaluable help.

However, there are two special people I have to thank in particular: the late professor A. H. J. Prins and the late father Fr Versteijnen C. S. Sp. I met Peter Prins for the first time in Mombasa, when he was still working in Lamu on his book Sailing from Lamu. I met Frits Versteijnen when he was working in the Roman Catholic Mission in Bagamoyo, and I was living in Dar es Salaam. Both men were very knowledgeable of the history of East Africa.

Long before I decided to write this story about Roscher, I had the opportunity to listen to their interesting stories about past events of the Arab and Swahili settlements along the east coast. It is not often that one can get such fascinating information from such well-known experts as they were. I’ll be forever grateful.

Moreover, I would like to thank Ruth Schicht and Robert van Wijk in helping me to translate some of the German text into good English without losing the jest of it.

Last, but not least, I wish to thank Margaret Sticpewich for her tireless effort to make good English of my initial story.

I received much assistance and help of the following museums, libraries, and archives.

Museums: Museum für Hamburgische Geschichte, Hamburg; Altona Museum in Hamburg—Norddeutsches Landesmuseum, Altona/Hamburg; David Livingstone Centre, Blantyre, Glasgow; National Portrait Gallery, Edinburgh; Royal Maritime Institute in Greenwich; Peabody & Essex Museum, Salem, Massachusetts; Zoologische Staatssammlung, Munich; Botanische Staatssammlung, Munich; Staatliches Museum für Völkerkunde, Munich; Museum voor Volkenkunde, Rotterdam; Naturhistorisches Museum in Vienna, Austria.

Libraries: Bibliotheek, Afrika Studie Centrum, University of Leiden, Leiden; Fondren Library, Rice University, Houston; Library of the Maritime Museum Prins Hendrik, Rotterdam; National Library of Scotland, Edinburgh; Library of the Rijksmuseum Nederlands Scheepvaart Museum, Amsterdam; Library of the Royal Geographic Society, London; The British Library, Oriental and India Office Collections; South African Library, Cape Town; Staats und Universitäts Bibliothek, Hamburg; Library of the Johanneum School in Hamburg.

Archives and Institutions: The Hebrew University of Jerusalem, Israel; State Archives and Heraldic Services, Cape Town; Texas A&M University in Galveston, Texas; Landeshauptstadt Magdeburg, Magdeburg; Bayerische Staatsbibliothek, Munich; Bayerische Hauptstaatsarchiv, Munich; Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin, Handschriftenabteilung, Berlin; Senat der Freien und Hansestadt Hamburg, Staatsarchiv, Hamburg; Institut für Afrika-kunde, Hamburg.

In conclusion, I wish to thank all those others who have given me information, illustrations, and directions: Ms. Wiebke Müller, Hamburg; Mr. and Mrs. Hans O’Swald and Mr. and Mrs. Frits O’Swald, Blankenese, Hamburg; Dr. Uwe Petersen, Hamburg; Chr Frhr von Gayl, Hamburg; Father Leo van Kessel, Berg en Dal; Mrs. Andrea Duncan, London; Ian Glass, Cape Town.

Preface

Twenty years I lived in East and Central Africa. I traveled around to many very remote areas, and looking back, I enjoyed every minute of it. I did have some interest in the early history of the coast, but nothing specific. It amazes me that in all those years I had never heard of Dr. Albrecht Roscher, and I am convinced that none of my friends had ever heard of him either. Some of these friends were really knowledgeable old-timers, and I am sure that they had never come across his name or seen it anywhere in a newspaper article.

A few years ago, to my surprise, I found for the first time a reference to him. It was in one of the early books of Dr. David Livingstone, Narrative of an Expedition to the Zambezi. On page 420, there was a footnote mentioning Albrecht Roscher, a German explorer, who was murdered near the village of Kisunguni in northwest Mozambique. I was intrigued by this report and started to investigate who he actually was. That was the beginning of my research, and bits and pieces of information gathered over the years made it possible for me to complete this book. It may not be a complete biography, but it gives a reasonable impression about the insurmountable difficulties this young man was to face to reach his goal.

There was not much known about Roscher, not even in Germany. I made a fateful error to think that most of the archives, libraries, and museum collection in Nazi-Germany were destroyed during World War II. The opposite was true. The responses I received were very interesting, and without the help of these librarians and others, I could not have completed this story.

Putting all the pieces together, I think I have done my very best to write about this brilliant young explorer, who was caught up in the tumultuous years of an international power struggle, a deadly family feud for control of the sultanate of Oman and Zanzibar, and the horrors of the slave trade.

My wife and I visited many places such as Hamburg, Lüneburg, Leipzig, Rotterdam, Leiden, London, Edinburgh, and Blantyre near Glasgow to do the research that was necessary to get the full story. I contacted university libraries, government and private institutions, museums, and private persons. Slowly, a very interesting picture unfolded of the man’s childhood, his motives, and experiences.

This was the time in the mid-nineteenth century that the European powers were setting the stage for a power struggle that was later known as the scramble for Africa. With the stroke of a pen, borders were agreed upon, which should never have been drawn. Tribal lands were cut in two, causing strife and famine. Different colonial laws were drawn up and enforced by European standards without any regard to tribal or local custom. All this was not yet of any concern to Roscher. For him, during his safari to the lake, his health and his safety were of prime importance. It is a pity that his misfortune did not allow us the chance to relive his experiences, because no doubt he would have written an impressive travel narrative.

List of Abbreviated References

Alpers/Ivory                          Alpers, Edward A., Ivory and Slaves in East Africa, Berkeley, University of California Press, 1975

Bennett/Arab                         Bennett, Norman R., Arab versus European, New York, Africana Publishing Comp., 1986

Burton/Lake                       Burton, Richard F., The Source of the Nile, The Lake Regions of Central Africa, London, Folio Society, 1993

Burton/Zanzibar                       Burton, Richard F., Zanzibar; City, Island and Coast, London and New York, Johnson Reprint Corp., 1967

Coupland/Slavery             Coupland, Reginal, The British Anti-Slavery Movement, London, Frank Cass & Co. Ltd, 1933

Coupland/Exploitation            Coupland, Reginal, The Exploitation of East Africa 1856-1890, London, Faber & Faber Ltd, 1939

Coupland/Invaders                 Coupland, Reginal, East Africa and its Invaders, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1956

Coupland/Kirk                         Coupland, Reginal, Kirk on the Zambezi, Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1928

Christie/Cholera                    Christie, James, AM, MD, Cholera Epidemics in East Africa, London, Macmillan & Co., 1876

Elton/Travels                          Elton, J. Frederic, FRGS, The Lakes and Mountains of Eastern and Central Africa, London, John Murray, 1879

Henze/Erforscher                  Henze, Dietmar, Enzyklopädie der Entdecker und Erforscher der Erde, Graz, Akademische Druck und Verlagsanstalt, 1975

Hieke/Handel                        Hieke, Ernst, Zur Geschichte des deutschen Handel mit Ost-Afrika, Hamburg, 1938

Hourani/Seafaring              Hourani, George Fadlo, Arab Seafaring in the Indian Ocean in Ancient and Early Medieval Times, New Jersey, Princeton University Press, 1951

Kersten/Decken                      Kersten, Otto, Baron Carl Claus von der Decken’s Reisen in Ost-Afrika in den Jahren 1859 bis 1861, Leipzig, Wintersche Verlagshandlung, and Heidelberg, 1869

Krapf/Researches             Krapf, Reverend Dr. J. Lewis, Researches and Missionary Labours during an Eighteen Years’ Residence in Eastern Africa, London, Trübner and Co., 1860

Livingstone/Zambesi              Livingstone, David and Charles, Narrative of an Expedition to the Zambesi and Its Tributaries, New York, Harper Brothers, 1866

Lyne/Zanzibar                       Lyne, Robert Nunez, Zanzibar in Contemporary Times, New York, Negro Universities Press, 1969

McLeod/Travels                        McLeod, Lyons, FRGS, Travels in Eastern Africa, London, Hurst and Blackett, 1860

Nicholls/Coast                       Nicholls, C. S., The Swahili Coast, New York, Africana Publishing Corp., 1971

Petermann/Mitteilungen            Petermann, Dr. A., Mitteilungen aus Justus Perthes’ Geographischer Anstalt über Wichtige Neue Erforschungen auf dem Gesammtgebiete der Geographie, Gotha, Justus Perthes

Prins/Lamu                       Prins, Professor A. H. J., Sailing from Lamu, Assen, the Netherlands, van Gorcum & Comp. NV, 1965

Roscher/Ptolemy                 Roscher, Albrecht, Ptolemaeus und die Handelsstrassen in Central-Afrika, Amsterdam, Meridian Publishing Co.

Roscher/Roscher              Roscher, Heinrich, Beitrage zur Geschichte der Niedersächsischen Familie Roscher, Hamburg, L. Friederichsen & Co., 1912

Ruete/Princess                       Ruete, Emily, An Arabian Princess Between Two Worlds, edited by E. van Donzel, Leiden and New York, E. J. Brill, 1993

Russell/Rigby                       Russell, Mrs. Charles E. B., General Rigby, Zanzibar and the Slave Trade, London, George Allen & Unwin Publishers Ltd., 1920

Speke/Nile                           Speke, John Hanning, Journal of the Discovery of the Source of the Nile, Edinburgh and London, William Blackwood and Sons, 1863

Versteijnen/Bagamoyo            Versteijnen, Father Frits, The Catholic Mission of Bagamoyo, unpublished manuscript, 4 March 1968

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Chapter I

Approaching the East African Coast

It was the second week of September 1858, the end of the southeast monsoon. The wind was steady, as it had been for the last few days, and the sea was choppy but without a heavy swell. The schooner brig Picciola made good speed, rolling slightly with a little list over port side. Yesterday, the ship had passed along the eastern shore of Mafia Island, and this morning, after clearing the northern tip, the course was changed to the northwest, toward the ship’s final destination, the island of Zanzibar.

The mysterious land mass of the mainland was not yet visible. The shoreline of the East African coast had been roughly outlined by map makers, but the interior was still largely unknown, a blank area marked terra incognita. In the past, the coastal waters had been explored by captains of British and French naval ships who had orders to chart the coastline. They had succeeded admirably, but details of reefs, rivers, and even small islands were still sketchy and far from accurate. Nautical charts and sailing directions were available in Europe, and before the departure of a vessel on a long overseas voyage, the captain was given an updated set. If he found any discrepancies during the voyage, he would record his findings on the charts and add a note in his daily log. The corrections would be taken back home for use by the masters of the next outward sailings.

On deck of the Picciola stood a young man looking through his brass telescope, searching for the distant coast that he could not yet see. He was leaning with his elbows on the wooden bulwark to keep his hands steady. Occasionally, he lowered his spyglass and stared at the horizon. His name was Albrecht Roscher, and this was his first ocean voyage. He was searching for some hills in the far distance, trying to make out where the coastline could be. He was looking for the surf and a beach, but, if they indeed existed, they were still too far away and hidden beneath the horizon. He was trying to identify a mountain peak, or a range of hills with a conspicuous sandy or rocky patch, but these were also too far away to be seen. It was even difficult to establish the distance to the shore, although he estimated that it was more than forty miles. In a few hours, he should be able to get a better view. However, if it was late in the afternoon, with the sun setting in the west directly over the coastline, it would be impossible to see anything at all. The glare would be blinding, and the distance to the shore too far. In that case, he would have to wait till the following morning.

After they had passed Mafia Island, Roscher saw again those Arab dhows of which he had read so much and that he had seen at close quarters, when they called two weeks earlier at the port of Mozambique Island. Their white lateen sails made a beautiful contrast with the deep blue color of the Indian Ocean. Some of the bigger dhows had two masts with one large and one smaller lateen sail attached to them. They sailed fairly close to the coast, where they could easily recognize every tree, hill, or inlet, and pinpoint at any given moment exactly where they were.

It was said that the design of these Arab vessels had not changed much over the last fifteen hundred years. Their nahodhas¹ were unbeatable navigators with an experienced knowledge of the coast from northern India and the Persian Gulf to southeastern Africa, sometimes as far south as Sofala. Most of the dhows that Roscher saw were now heading north, making use both of the current and the last seasonal monsoon winds. For millennia, these monsoons had dominated the maritime trading patterns in the western Indian Ocean. Here was the explanation of the expression trade winds. When the wind was blowing from the northeast, all the ships sailed to the southwest, and when the wind reversed, the trading patterns of the vessels changed too. For several months, the wind force remained constant, and the vessels made good speed. The skippers could make a fairly good prediction as to when they could arrive at their destination.

Albrecht Roscher turned round, put his telescope in the protective brass tube, and looked aft to see if the captain was looking in the same direction. Captain Drewes was standing next to the helmsman. Behind him was the officer watching the trim of the sails.

Roscher approached the men. Have you been able to identify anything, Captain? he asked. Somewhere there to the west must be the Lufiji delta, said Roscher, as he was pointing in that direction. It may still be hidden behind Mafia Island.

He did not admit that he really wasn’t certain what to look for. The river arms and the surrounding land had no elevation and from a distance were almost impossible to distinguish. The day before, he had been somewhat disappointed when the captain had refused to sail through the narrow channel between Mafia and the mainland. When Roscher saw the charts himself, he however realized why it was too dangerous. It was indeed a treacherous passage, possibly with many uncharted reefs, little islands, and unpredictable currents. Such waters between the mouth of a river and an island are constantly subject to change. It would have been bad seamanship to take such a risk.

The captain replied to Roscher’s question about the Lufiji delta. In the rainy season, the waters around the mouth of the Lufiji are often muddy with sediment. It has something to do with the heavy rains upcountry. The current can carry the discoloration out to a distance of sometimes a hundred miles away from the shoreline. But this is not the rainy season. We will take the noon position, and then we shall know exactly where we are. Turning to the mate, he said, We have to double the lookout again tonight. Many of those dhows, particularly the smaller ones, sail without any navigational lights. It seems they have never heard of them. Drewes explained that they would go to any length to hide from the British antislave patrols. "The big British ships stay at a safe distance from the shore, but their fast, small sloops patrol the coastal waters. In the dark, when the skipper of a dhow realizes too late that he is in danger of being run over by one of our bigger ships, the crew start screaming and yelling to raise the alarm and suddenly you see a torch burning so close, that it takes some hair-raising maneuvers to avoid them. The Picciola wouldn’t be the first ship to collide with a dhow and run it down. The nearer we get to Zanzibar, the more traffic we can expect. Only the bigger dhows, some of them actually larger in size, with more cargo capacity than the Picciola, carry a mast light at night. If we collide with one of those larger ships, we shall both have extensive damage. They are all made of Indian teak, which is known for its strength."

Roscher went down below deck to get his sextant. At twelve o’clock sharp, the three men took the position of the sun. Then they made their calculations and after a while compared the three positions, each of which was inserted in the chart. The center of the three became the noon position of the ship on that particular day. The precise time and the date were added to the chart.

Roscher went back to the port side of the ship and looked again through his telescope to see if he could recognize anything. Could this be where Ptolemy placed Rhapta, that legendary city on the coast that had been known for two millennia? What about those snow-capped Mountains of the Moon? These mountains with snow on them were the subject of much heated discussion in the meetings of the Royal Geographical Society in London. Then there was always that lingering mystery of Ophir, the place mentioned in the Old Testament in the books of Genesis, Job, and Kings. Ophir was King Solomon’s secret source of the gold, which he needed in large quantities to cover the roof of his new temple in Jerusalem. Could it be over there in the interior? These questions had puzzled Roscher for the past few years, and this trip was going to give him the chance to prove some of the arguments he had made in his treatise Ptolemy and the Trading Routes in Central Africa. His article had been published in book form in 1857 and had made him something of a celebrity in Germany. But in order to prove his theories, he first had to go to Zanzibar where he would set up his base for his explorations into the interior.

Roscher noticed that the Picciola was slowly overtaking a dhow sailing in the same direction. This one was much smaller than some of the others he had seen. He asked the captain whether all dhows in these waters were transporting slaves. Captain Drewes replied that when a dhow was carrying slaves, it would avoid the normal trading routes. It would stay close to the coast and, in case of danger, would take refuge in one of the many small inlets. Roscher looked through his telescope at the dhow. Some of the crew were waving. He heard them shouting something, no doubt in Arabic or Swahili. The large sail was not white. It looked more like a muddy cloth, repaired with different colored squares of cotton. Every time the boat rolled on the crest of a wave, the sail flapped, and the sound could be heard on board the Picciola. The cargo, which looked like mangrove poles, was exposed to the weather. There were no hatch covers or any type of tarpaulin to keep the water out. Some of the crew were lying on top of the poles. Some were asleep; others were sitting cross-legged. A primitive sunscreen made of burlap was suspended between the mast and the stern of the vessel. It was just enough to give the men a little shade, and the sea breeze kept them cool.

Captain Drewes had planned to arrive at Zanzibar in daylight the following day, when the tide was supposed to be low. It was the only way to see the exposed reefs, the shallows, and the many small islands. Later in the afternoon, he gave the order to take in some sail and reduce the ship’s speed. They still had a full night to go. At night, the wind usually dropped, and with an unpredictable current, caution was essential. The ocean was too deep to drop anchor, but to drift too close to the shore was dangerous. Their ship was a small vessel suitable for trading along the coast. With its shallow draught, it could enter otherwise inaccessible bays and ports.

The Picciola was a schooner brig built in 1838 by the well-known Hamburg shipyard von Somm at the western end of the Grasbrook Pier on the Norder Elbe, where there were many other shipyards.² It was the first vessel built for the Hamburg firm of Adolf Jacob Hertz and was followed by others for the same owners. The hull was constructed of oak with copper bolts, designed for trading along the North Sea coastal ports and the Baltic. Its cargo capacity was about one hundred and fifty tons. From stem to stern, it was eighty-three feet long, and its beam was nineteen feet.³ The foremast was square-rigged, while the aft mast had a large schooner sail. The ship’s draught was only eleven feet, which made it suitable for negotiating the shallows and sandbanks along the North Sea and Baltic coast. In 1851, it was put through a kind of refit, and everything that needed replacement was renewed. The hull under the waterline was plated with copper sheets to protect it from teredo borers, algae, and mussel growth in tropical waters. The ship was small for a long voyage that could last six or seven months. Accommodation, all of it under deck, was cramped. Normally, the crew of a typical schooner brig consisted of a captain, one mate, two able seamen, one sailor, who also served as cook, carpenter and sail maker, and a cabin boy.⁴ When the owners of a vessel scheduled it to sail from Hamburg on a particularly long and difficult voyage, where bad weather could be expected, a junior second mate and an extra seaman were added. Some of the crew had to share a bunk, sleeping alternately when they were off duty. As soon as the weather improved and the temperature was not too cold, the men could bring their blankets on deck to get a rest. Drinking water was a constant problem, and on the long stretches between two ports of call, the crew had to be put on a daily ration. The menu was monotonous, and the food was bad. Only for the first few days after they had called at a port were fresh meat and sometimes fruit and vegetables served. To limit the cost of the crew, the captain was often forced to allow only soup and biscuits. Potatoes and onions were stored on deck in open crates, but when the weather was bad, first the onions and then the potatoes quickly rotted away and became inedible.

The ship sailed under the Hanseatic flag and was registered in Hamburg where the owners had a trading house under the name of Adolph Jacob Hertz. The Picciola had made several long voyages that had been very successful and had paid handsome profits to owners and captains.

On the previous voyage to Lagos, Palma, and Southampton, Captain Drewes was given his first command. They had returned to Hamburg on 10 April 1858 with a cargo of palm oil in barrels from the Benin coast of West Africa. The ship was kept in Hamburg for two months so that the usual maintenance could be carried out. Shortly after that, in early June, they departed again, this time for a round trip to Zanzibar. On 9 June, they passed the Start in southwest England and proceeded to the south through the dreaded Bay of Biscay.⁵

Just before the Picciola set sail from Hamburg, Mr. Hertz told the captain that he would have a passenger who had been given a free one-way passage to Zanzibar. This young man was to start his exploration to the unknown lakes in central Africa. The captain was asked by Hertz to look after this ambitious young scientist. Albrecht Roscher came on board with boxes full of expensive and delicate instruments, which had to be carefully stowed in a safe, dry corner of the hold. He too had to share cramped accommodation with the others. It was customary in those days that a man enjoying a free passage should work his way over. Roscher did whatever was demanded of him, but he was not ordered aloft to handle the sails. There was plenty of other work for him.

On this present voyage, the ship was carrying a wide variety of merchandise: bales of cotton piece goods, kegs of nails, reels of copper wire, boxes of knives and other iron tools, ammunition, flints and gunpowder, beads, crockery, wines and spirits, cooking pots, mirrors, and umbrellas. The cargo manifest was long. All these items were destined to be sold or bartered to

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Scale model of the Hanseatic schooner-brig Orient. This vessel was identical in size, tonnage, and rigging to the Picciola (photo courtesy of the Altona Museum in Hamburg, Norddeutsches Landesmuseum).

Indian or Arab traders, who in turn would send them by Arab caravans to the interior of the African mainland. The most precious cargo on board, however, was the mail from Hamburg—letters, newspapers, and books for the German community in Zanzibar. It was the first item to be discharged and sent ashore for distribution among the Germans who eagerly awaited the latest news from home.

The voyage so far had gone reasonably well. They had made a call at the port of Jamestown on the island of St. Helena. The vessel remained at the outer anchorage. Food and water were brought alongside by launch. Many German ships en route to East Africa or the Far East called at St. Helena instead of Cape Town. Jamestown was the last port of call to send mail home. There was a local Hanseatic consul there, to whom the captain had to report his arrival and who would take the mail. From St. Helena, the mail was carried back home by the fast British Royal Mail vessels, which maintained a regular service between Cape Town and Southampton. German shipowners used the call at St. Helena to lead their competitors astray. They did not want the others to know what the next destination of their ships would be.⁶ This kind of information was considered a trade secret. By calling at St. Helena, Cape Town could be omitted, a decision the crew never liked.

By daybreak, Cape Town with its Table Mountain could be a spectacular sight. Later in the day, parts of the mountain were often covered in clouds. Once in the harbor of the former Dutch East Indian colony, the ships in transit were supplied with fresh water, vegetables, fruit, and meat. The crews enjoyed a welcome break ashore from their monotonous voyages. Along the waterfront of the harbor, it was easy to find out what the next port of call of a particular ship was going to be. A pint of beer or a bottle of spirits was enough to make a loose-tongued crew member divulge the itinerary of his ship. The daily paper published the scheduled ports of call of each ship, much to the dislike of shipowners. The details were passed on to England to be published in the Lloyd’s List. The port was always full of ships large and small, merchantmen and men-of-war, tall clippers from India and China, en route to or from Europe or to the east coast of America. There were British warships, some permanently stationed in South African waters. Warships from France or Portugal made short calls for water and fresh food supplies. It was a busy port.

The Picciola, however, did not call at Cape Town and passed the cape at a safe distance.⁷ Several days before Table Mountain was visible, the ship was made ready for the worst part of the voyage—the maneuver of rounding the cape. Everything was made fast, above and below deck. In the galley, all the pots and pans were stacked away. In the cargo hold, anything loose was again neatly stowed, and the lashings were carefully checked and double-checked, to make sure that the cargo couldn’t shift because of the rolling movement of the ship. As they sailed south along the peninsula, keeping Table Bay and False Bay at a distance, the sea was relatively calm, but the anticipation of things to come made everybody edgy. Then finally, there it was—the famous Cape of Good Hope. Shortly thereafter, they rounded Cape Agulhas, the most southern point of Africa. Sailing round this rocky cape could be extremely perilous. In southern Africa, August is winter, and the weather is usually cold and very windy. Navigating a small vessel round the cape and changing its course into the eastern swell was always a frightening experience. Seasoned captains kept a safe distance from land. A small ship like the Picciola would pitch and roll, while massive waves spilled white water over the deck. In severe weather like this, even the bigger ships could run into serious trouble. Sometimes the bow of the vessel disappeared entirely into these breakers, shaking everything on board. Sails had to be shortened. Day and night, the crew worked to keep things in order. They had little protection against the elements. They were constantly soaking wet, cold, and tired, and no one got any sleep. After a few days, the conditions improved a little, although the cold wind from the southeast remained. The captain kept the course of the ship close to the shore to catch a countercurrent to the east in the same direction as the ship was heading.

Passing along the southeast African coast was not a very interesting part of the journey. Heavy clouds covered the mountain ranges, and only on a clear day was the coastline visible. But to make use of a countercurrent, the vessel had to keep a course close to the shore. Too far out from the coast, the ship could be caught in the dangerous Agulhas current, which originates in the Mozambique Channel and runs from the northeast to the southwest, sometimes at four to five knots. Among seamen, the Agulhas had a bad name. Ships had disappeared in these waters and were never heard of again. The legend was that the sea sometimes opened up like a big black hole and swallowed the ship without any chance of escape for the crew. It would take another one hundred twenty years before the mystery of the dreaded freak waves along the South African coast was solved.⁸ The legend was real. The sea did not open up, but in certain weather conditions, a deep trough was created by a sixty- to one-hundred-foot high wave in which an average-sized ship could easily disappear without trace and without leaving any survivors.

When the weather was good, nobody gave any thought to the Agulhas, and all on board were hoping for a quick coastal passage to the next port of call, Mozambique, situated on the island with the same name. Close to a week, sailing through the treacherous channel between Madagascar and Mozambique finally brought the ship in view of the island. The old Portuguese fort was the first visible landmark. It was constructed by the Portuguese three to four centuries earlier and was a solid bulwark of coralline blocks.

When Vasco da Gama rounded the Cape of Good Hope in November 1497, he was the first Portuguese captain to enter the Indian Ocean. On his coastal voyage to the north, he made landings at what is now Mossel Bay, at the mouth of the River Limpopo, at Quelimane, and at Mozambique Island. To their surprise, da Gama and his men discovered on Mozambique Island a well-established city with large buildings, a fort and mosques, inhabited by Arabs, Moors, and Africans. Many of the Arabs and their women were dressed in rich Indian silk dresses.

The Portuguese immediately realized that this was an important trading center, and that the people on this island conducted a direct trade with India and possibly with the entire Far East. During this first visit by da Gama, relations between the Portuguese and the Arabs were friendly at the start, but soon quarrels and skirmishes changed the situation, forcing him and his ships to leave again on 7 April. This was the end of any peace, and in due course, the Portuguese came back and conquered it, making Mozambique their main settlement on the East African coast. A new massive stone fort was built to defend the city against intruders. The name of the fort was Sâo Sebastâo, and it was completed in 1510. It is still intact. Two smaller forts were built at strategic defensive locations, and several churches could also be seen. Roscher stood on deck with his spyglass, looking at the scene. From a distance, the port looked very peaceful, but when the Picciola drew nearer, it was obvious that a recent violent storm had caused much damage and destruction. On 2 September 1858, the ship dropped anchor off the island at the entrance of the port of Mozambique opposite Mossuril Bay.

Adolf Jacob Hertz’s company had planned to expand its business in East Africa. His trading settlement in Zanzibar was not doing well, and Hertz suggested opening a new agency in Mozambique. All his ships sailing from Hamburg and bound for Zanzibar could call at Mozambique en route and deliver merchandise for the local trade and at the same time could load ivory, copal, and cowrie shells for the return voyage to Hamburg. It was a good plan, and one of the company’s German employees normally stationed in Zanzibar was ordered to go to Mozambique and open the agency. But the Portuguese were not in favor of foreigners conducting business direct with the established Arab and Indian traders. Their wish was that all trade should be routed via the Portuguese traders. Obstruction, harassment, and bribery were the order of the day. Hertz, however, persisted with his business.

At the time of the Picciola’s visit, the island of Mozambique had about seven thousand inhabitants, many of whom were of Arab, Goan, or Indian descent. The garrison in the fort consisted of two hundred Portuguese soldiers, mainly ex-convicts. The soldiers had not been paid for four years, and their officers had been two years without pay. Corruption was a way of life. How could it be otherwise? A few Portuguese officials were working in the customs house and the treasury. Everyone without exception was directly or indirectly engaged in the slave trade. It was the only way to augment the meager income of Portuguese government officials, from the governor down to the customs officer.

Toward the end of 1857, the Lisbon government had appointed a new governor with specific instructions to stop the slave trade with the French. His name was Colonel d’Almeida. Under the disguise of a free labor emigration system, the French bought slaves from the Portuguese and Arab traders. These slaves had to sign a contract, which made them legal contract laborers. According to the French, it allowed them legally to ship the now ex-slaves to their islands in the Indian Ocean to work on the French estates. The contract officially confirmed that they had signed on as volunteers of their own free will and that they had agreed to go to Réunion or Madagascar. In reality, the conditions on these estates were so abominable that there was only a slim chance that they would ever return to their homelands. That so-called signature on paper was nothing more than a little cross, a dot, or a circle. The slaves did not understand what was happening or what they were in for. The Portuguese or Arab traders were paid for each slave delivered and shipped. It was a continuation of the lucrative slave trade under another name.

Colonel d’Almeida did not tackle the Mozambique slave trade with the northern countries like Kilwa, Zanzibar, the Persian Gulf, or India. That trade was exclusively in the hands of the Arabs and Indians. Instead, he directed his efforts only against those French traders who were still buying slaves instead of free laborers. The first French ship found conducting the bizarre trade was the bark Charles et George. Colonel d’Almeida had the vessel arrested and brought to Mozambique, where in March 1858 it was confiscated and condemned. The news of the seizure quickly reached Lisbon and Paris.

On 1 April that same year, the island of Mozambique was hit by a cyclone. On that day, the barometric pressure dropped to its lowest reading in years. The storm was preceded by a week of torrential rains, and the result was total devastation. A number of vessels were in port: the French war schooner L’Aigle, the French bark Charles et George, the Portuguese ship Adamastor, the brig Amisade, the Dois Irmaos, five other Portuguese schooners, and twenty-nine Arab and Indian dhows. The storm lasted two full days. The eye of the storm with its eerie hour of no wind at all must have crossed the island dead on target. Many of the ships were beached and totally destroyed. Others were badly damaged and needed extensive repairs. The only vessels to escape the storm were the Adamastor, the Charles et George, and the brig Amisade.

The destruction in the bay, on the island, and on the mainland was terrible. The debris of the wrecks and their cargoes were thrown high on the beach, well above the flood line. Most of the coconut trees on the island and many old majestic trees were snapped off, blown over, and uprooted. Roofs of houses were blown off. Huts on the mainland were ripped apart. The number of casualties was high. The bloated and decomposed carcasses of cattle lay everywhere. Roscher was astonished to see the debris still lying around. It had been four and a half months since the storm had struck, but the place still gave the impression that the population had not yet begun to clean up. This storm had been one of those rare killer hurricanes, which in the Indian Ocean are called cyclones. Once in a while, they come from the north, move into the entrance of the Mozambique Channel, and hit the mainland with all their force. The result is a calamity that takes months, if not years, to overcome and forget.⁹

In the meantime, the affair of the Charles et George became an international crisis between Paris and Lisbon. Feelings ran high. In October 1858, two French battleships dropped anchor in the mouth of the Tagus off Lisbon. These two ships had not arrived to employ force. Were they only showing the flag? The commander of the two battleships demanded in the name of Emperor Napoleon III the immediate release of the Charles et George. In the end, the British government had to intervene, and the matter was settled to everybody’s satisfaction.¹⁰ The vessel was released, and the French owners kept the vessel employed in the slave trade. In due course, Roscher was to meet the vessel again.

Shortly after the cyclone, on 18 May 1858, the British consul, Lyons McLeod, and his family left the island of Mozambique. They boarded the HMS Lyra and sailed south to Quelimane and eventually to Cape Town. The consul’s stance against the slave trade was well known but not at all appreciated by the local Arab and Portuguese traders. He was afraid that an attempt on his life had been premeditated by some of the more shady characters in the trade. The Portuguese authorities had brushed the threat aside and were not prepared to take any protective measures.¹¹ McLeod and his family had been there only a few years. No other Englishmen lived on the island.

After the Picciola had anchored, Albrecht Roscher went ashore. The town was exceedingly dirty, and the smell was awful. Roscher walked through the narrow streets and gazed at the tall houses. Some were big mansions with inner courtyards and verandas. Most of the houses had flat roofs, enabling the residents to enjoy the cool evening sea breeze. Those flat roofs were also used to collect rainwater to fill the cisterns, the only source of drinking water. All these buildings were in a state of neglect and decay. The yellow- or ocher-colored stucco had flaked off, and the chips were still lying beneath the walls with other garbage. Windows were protected with lattices. He saw the governor’s palace, which was disappointing. The outside looked like a warehouse.