After this sensation, Stanley travelled to west Africa where a British expedition demonstrated how, for the first time, new technological and scientific advances made a European advance into internal Africa feasible. In the four centuries since the Portuguese had built Elmina, Europeans had rarely attempted to conquer the interior, except for the Anglo-Dutch in the Cape and the Portuguese in Angola and Mozambique. They remained confined to the coast, restrained by terrain, climate and above all malaria and yellow fever, which killed most Europeans. In 1824, a British attempt to challenge the kingdom of Asante ended with the British governor’s head served as a goblet for the
In 1871, the Asante challenged the British purchase of Dutch Gold Coast, under Afua Kobi, queen mother, the essential decision maker in the matrilineal Asante kingdom. After orchestrating the killing of rival princes, Afua Kobi had placed her son Kofi Karikari on the throne. ‘I’m only a woman,’ she said, ‘but would fight the governor with my left hand.’ Unbeknown to her, new technologies had changed the dynamic. In February 1874, Garnet Wolseley – one of those Anglo-Irish generals indispensable to British empire building – used steamships to land 2,500 British troops and built roads into the interior. Then, allied with thousands of African Fante auxiliaries, he advanced on the capital, Kumasi. Afua Kobi and the Asante were defeated in intense fighting, covered by the celebrated Stanley. As Afua retreated, Wolseley destroyed the capital and forced her to pay an indemnity in gold, liberate thousands of Asante slaves and ban human sacrifice – though the British did not capture the sacred Golden Stool. Queen Afua Kobi now deposed Kofi and placed another son on the throne. Wolseley – who said, ‘There’s only one way for a young man to get on in the army – he must try to get killed in every way possible’ – became the imperial troubleshooter, his competence coining a saying: ‘All Sir Garnet’ – meaning ‘Everything under control’.
Back in the east, the chaos in Ethiopia was an opportunity for Khedive Ismail, who occupied Massawa (Eritrea) and Zeila (Somalia) on the coast, and tried to seize Zanzibar, but was repelled by the sultan. In 1875, an Egyptian army led by the khedive’s son Hassan, and American, Swiss and Danish officers, invaded Ethiopia but was ambushed and annihilated at Gundet and Gura by Emperor Yohannes; Prince Hassan was captured. The victory empowered Yohannes.* Nearby, Gordon, Ismail’s governor-general, was expanding the Egyptian empire 3,000 miles down the Nile all the way to the great lakes and Buganda, where the
Ismail the Magnificent had failed in Ethiopia and Buganda, but he now ruled an enormous empire, the first of the carve-up for Africa. Yet after ten wars, 1,200 miles of railway, French courtesans and Krupp cannon, Ismail could not cover his debts. He considered the sale of his shares in the Suez Canal, shares which Dizzy coveted. The prime minister turned for help to one of his best friends, Lionel de Rothschild.* At cabinet in November 1875, Disraeli proposed the purchase, then popped his head out of the meeting. ‘Yes,’ he said to his secretary, Montagu Corry, who rushed by carriage to New Court. Rothschild was waiting. Disraeli needed £4 million ‘tomorrow’. ‘Rothschild picked up a muscatel grape, ate it, threw out the skin.’
‘What’s your security?’ asked Rothschild.
‘The British government,’ said Corry.
‘You shall have it.’ As Rothschild telegraphed the money to Ismail, Disraeli was received by Victoria.
‘It’s settled,’ said Disraeli portentously. ‘You have it, Madame.’
CETSHWAYO’S VICTORY AND THE LAST NAPOLEON
