Doctor Livingstone, I Presume.

His birth certificate identified him as a bastard.

His early life was one of make believe, illegality, and horrible abuse.

He died a Knight and was known the world over as the man who found Doctor Livingstone.

The man who would become Sir Henry Morton Stanley was born “John Rowlands, Bastard,” on January 28, 1841, in Denbigh, Denbighshire, Wales. His 18-year-old mother abandoned him to his grandfather Moses Parry who died only a few years later. John lived off and on with various relatives before being moved to the St. Asaph Union Workhouse for the Poor where he was regularly abused by older boys and raped and sexually assaulted by the headmaster. To escape this hell on Earth, John dove into a severe love of reading whenever possible.        

John left the poor house at age 17 when he signed on as a cabin boy on board an America freighter. And when that freighter hit New Orleans, John jumped ship. There he became Henry Stanley by simply taking the name of one of the wealthiest men in town (he sometimes told people he was the man’s son but it’s doubtful the two men ever crossed paths.) The fake Henry Stanley joined the Confederate Army after being shamed by a girlfriend who said he had no strength or patriotism. He fought at the Battle of Shiloh and was captured by Union forces on the second day of the engagement April 7, 1862. Knowing the conditions in a Union prison would be far worse than the poor house he’d left back in Great Britain, Henry took an oath to the Union and enlisted in the U.S. Artillery. His service there wasn’t long though as he deserted the Union Army to serve in the Federal Navy. He eventually deserted this as well by jumping ship off the frigate Minnesota.

The years that followed saw Henry touring the Western Frontier of the United States in search of riches, adventure, and something to write about. He searched for gold without success in Colorado, took temp jobs as a bookkeeper and laborer, then took a position as a reporter for the St. Louis Democrat for $15 a week. His work covering the U.S. Army’s battles with Native Americans garnered the attention of the Editor of the New York Herald, James Gordon Bennett. Henry was hired by the paper as a special correspondent and in October 1869 received orders from Mr. Bennett to “Find Livingstone,” the famous Scottish missionary-explorer who hadn’t been heard from in nearly a year.

Henry took the assignment and spent a ton of money in the process. He first ventured to

Egypt to report on the opening of the Suez Canal, then traveled through and wrote about his adventures in Palestine, Turkey, and India. He journeyed back to Zanzibar and on March 1871 began a massive expedition that would take him 700 miles overland. During that 236 day trek his expedition saw massive losses due to disease and desertion, dealings with hostile natives, and being pursued by cannibals who kept calling after Henry and his team as “niama, niama” (meat, meat!). Personally, Henry lost 40 pounds during the hike thanks to battles with malaria, starvation, and dysentery.

Eventually Henry located a near death David Livingstone on the island of Ujiji near Lake Tanganyika on November 10, 1871. Henry met the missing explorer by uttering the now famous words, “Doctor Livingstone, I presume.” Or maybe he didn’t. Henry most likely added the comment into his writings of such much later. Regardless, the encounter took place in such an isolated location that it took news of it almost a year to reach the Western World. Henry’s discovery made him famous beyond measure, earned him Knighthood, and allowed him the ability to cover whatever stories he wanted – with massive financial backing – for the remainder of his life. Henry died at his home in London on May 10, 1904.

This piece first appeared in the Fredericksburg Standard.

Like what you see? Want to keep the adventure going? Fire a PayPal or Venmo in my direction & you may get a shout out! Hot Tip: Include blog idea in the description…