Daylight at Last
From the commencement of the Bechwana Mission by Hamilton and Read in 18 16, for a period of more than ten years, not a ray of light shot across the gloom to cheer the hearts of the missionaries. A dull and stolid indifference reigned; the Batlaping would talk of any ordinary subject, and were willing to avail themselves of the presence of the white people in their country for any temporal advantage that might be within their reach, but the moment a word was said about divine things their ears seemed to become deaf at once, and they would walk away determined to have nothing to do with that foolishness.
To people like the missionaries, whose whole heart was in their work, who believed that all said in the New Testament about the solemn eventualities of another world was literally true and no mere figure of speech, who looked at the heathen around them and felt that they were verily perishing, it was sore trial of faith to go on year after year with their message burning in their hearts.
The darkness was long and gloomy beyond compare, but there was no wavering of faith. There were times, indeed, when the brethren Hamilton and Moffat were cast down and disposed to cry with the prophet, “Who hath believed our report?” and to ask, “Is this the right path? “but there was one member of the mission, weak in body but strong in faith, who never faltered. She would but fall back on the promises of the unchangeable God, and say, “We may not live to see it, but the awakening will come as surely as the sun will rise to-morrow.” On one occasion a letter was received from her friend Mrs. Greaves of Sheffield, asking if there was anything of use which could be sent. The answer of Mary Moffat was, “Send us a communion service; we shall want it some day.” At that time there was no glimmer of the dawn, io6 THE GREAT AWAKENING.
and in the course of the two or three years which it took with their slow communications to get that request of faith fulfilled there was time for an even thicker darkness to overspread the sky, and the sorest cross of all was a rumour which came that doubts were beginning to be felt at home about the use of going on with the Bechwana Mission: but they held on.
In the year 1827 there began to be a sort of change, almost like that change in the sky even before the dawn which is familiar to watchers in the night. The bulk of the Batlaping tribe, utterly weary and impoverished by the incessant forays of the western banditti, had drifted away eastward and settled along the course of the Vaal and the Kolong rivers; but their place at Kuruman had been in a measure supplied by a mixed community of refugees from the interior tribes, and the Batlaro still clung to their old location to the north-west of the station on the confines of the Kalahari Desert. Many of the refugees were drawn to the station by feelings which gave them a disposition open to missionary influence, so that it began to be seen that there was a better attendance and a more settled attention to the preaching and teaching of the missionaries.
At length, in 1829, a marvellous awakening began. It came, as such things do come, without any human or visible existing cause. There was a wave of tumultuous and simultaneous enthusiasm. The two brethren who witnessed it were sober-minded and hard-headed Scotchmen, by disposition not willing to lend themselves to any movement which might seem to have the taint of mere sensationalism. They had been schooled to adversity, and they could but dread some new device of the devil to obstruct their path; but it was not long before they were forced to admit that there was something that could not be gainsaid. In a {t months the whole aspect of the station had changed. The meeting-house was crowded before the service had begun. Heathen songs and dancing had ceased, and everywhere were to be heard instead the songs of Zion and the outpouring of impassioned prayers. The missionaries were beset even in their own houses by those who were seeking fuller instruction in things which had become to them all at once of paramount importance. The moral condition of the community rapidly improved, and the dirt and indecency of heathen costume were exchanged for cleanliness and European habits of clothing, as far as the supply could be met by the visits of occasional traders.
Great as was the change, the missionaries did not dismiss their northern caution. It was only after careful examination that from the many who pressed forward they selected some six in the first instance to receive the rite of baptism. Few can enter into the feelings which must have animated the hearts of the missionary band when they first sat down with that little company at the table of the Lord. On the day preceding this memorable occasion in the history of the Bechwana Mission a box arrived which had been long on the road from England. It contained the communion vessels for which Mary Moffat had asked nearly three years before.
The zeal of the new converts showed itself in practical forms. There were, of course, in the first instance features of the movement which needed to be carefully watched. The Bechwanas pride themselves in the suppression of all outward emotion. Those who know them can often see that under a calm demeanour there is raging a volcano of excitement. But if their feelings do gain the upper hand they are shown by uncontrollable outbursts, and in ways almost painful to witness. Thus it was that at times the little meeting-house at Kuruman was filled with a storm of sobs and cries which made it almost impossible to proceed with the service. But as time went on these manifestations moderated, and the converts settled down to steady work. Three of the men came forward and offered to take upon themselves the work of building a brick school-house, which should at the same time serve as a temporary place of worship until the great stone church, of which the foundations had even then been laid, should be finished. All that they asked was that the carpenter’s work, for which they were not qualified, might be done for them. They would provide all the material and would build and roof. They were as good as their word, and a school-house was raised without a sixpence of direct expense to the Society.
The station at this time enjoyed much prosperity in temporal matters. The leading out of the water for irrigation made the people more independent of the precarious rainfall; they were well supplied, while in the country around their heathen neighbours, impoverished by war and drought, were living a life of semi-starvation. The year was one of the brightest in the annals of the station. It was the full bloom of the spring time, which has been succeeded by those alternations of frost and sunshine common to all missions. Moffat was now more at liberty to carry out his long desired purpose of translating. He put into Sechwana the Gospel of Luke and a selection of other scriptures; and of these he used to read from his manuscript in public worship or as occasion offered.
Mary Moffat writes to her father on the nineteenth of October, 1829:
io8 ANSWERS TO PRAYER.
“If you have received our former letters your heart would be overjoyed at the glad tidings from this station, and the later communications were calculated rather to increase than to diminish that joy. To hear of the steady and growing piety of some of these sable children of Adam, together with the increase of Divine knowledge in the minds of others, must be reviving to the hearts of all who love the cause, but especially to such as are so nearly connected with this mission as yourself. Our gracious God has been very condescending to spare the lives of His unworthy servants to witness some fruits of missionary labour — a felicity we frequently despaired of enjoying while in this lower world, where crosses and disappointments seemed to form so large a proportion in our cup. We now often wish you could be with us, to witness for yourself what we see. As I think you would see Mr. Roby’s letter, and probably the Directors would publish Moffat’s, it is not necessary for me to repeat what was then written. Suffice it to say that the converts are going on well, and though the general commotion in the minds of the people has in a great measure subsided, we have sohd reason to believe that there are many persons who are the subjects of an abiding conviction of their condition as sinners before God, and are in the constant and diligent use of the means of grace; which we doubt not will be effectual through the Spirit in leading them to the Saviour of sinners. We do ardently hope and pray that what has taken place may be but the few drops before the plenteous shower. The Spirit of God has commenced His operations, and surely He will go on. Oh for a more general spirit of prayer and supplication I I hear from my friend Miss Lees, that the very time of the awakening here, was the season of extraordinary prayer among the churches at home. What a coincidence! and what an encouragement to persevere in that important part of Christian duty.
‘* But it is time for me to acknowledge the receipt of the two boxes you sent. They came to hand in July. I will not attempt to describe my feelings on the sight of the portraits of my dear mother and yourself. They are such striking likenesses as powerfully to affect our hearts, and to the present moment when inadvertently I cast my eyes on either, my heart bounds within me. The first day we hung them up we had a church-meeting in our hall. Brother Hamilton sat on one side of the fire in an arm-chair, and Robert on the other, and the portraits hanging above seemed to form a part of the company. I fancied my mother might be spiritually present. Five Bechwana converts, with Rachel the wife of Arend, were received on the occasion. The scene was highly interesting, and to us the interest was heightened by this little circumstance. I could not but breathe when looking at your own, * Oh that those lips had language, and that those ears could hear I ‘”
The turn events had taken in the Bechwana Mission was followed by another event which led in the end to a wide extension of the sphere to which Moffat and his coadjutors looked with hope for the prosecution of their work. For months, and indeed for years, vague rumours had been coming, handed on from one tribe to another, about a strong and warlike people to the eastward, who spoke another language and were strangers to the Bechwanas. Of his first visits to these people and their chief, MoiTat has fully told the tale in his own missionary volume; but in view of the important part they played ever after in his life and interest, a summary account of these visits is now repeated, being much abridged parts of his journal in his own words:
“This records the first contact of missionaries with the Matebele tribe under the chief Mosilikatse — or Umziligazi, as he would be called in Zululand, whence he came, himself a fugitive from the tyranny of Chaka. He headed another wave of emigration which rolled westwards, and threw into terror and confusion the comparatively unwarlike Basuto and Bechwana tribes, who inhabited what is now the Transvaal.
“In the year 1829 two traders went into the interior to shoot elephants and to barter. Hearing from the Bahurutse that a tribe rich in cattle lay far eastward, they went on, and were well received by Mosilikatse the king, who, however, allowed them to approach his town on horseback only. Before this the Matebele — or Mantotoana, as they were then called — had come in contact with the Bahurutse, and had learned through them of the existence of the white people, especially those at Kuruman, with whom they were best acquainted. Mosilikatse, in quest of more extensive and particular knowledge of the white men, was led to send two of his head men, charging them to inquire specially about the manners and teachings of those at the Kuruman.
*’ On their arrival here with three attendants, everything astonished and interested them, and they themselves were the objects of still greater astonishment to our people, who stared as though regarding another order of beings. They were shown every attention, and they in turn were full of gratitude. The order of worship and the singing arrested their attention, while the water-courses, gardens, houses, and blacksmith’s forge kept their minds in constant exercise. Difficulties arose about their safe return to their own country. A report was spread that the tribes through which they had to pass intended to murder them as spies, and they were naturally in some alarm. In view of the warlike disposition and mighty power of the Matebele, who had already destroyed so many great tribes and deluged the Bakwena country with blood, I could not help fearing the dire results if anything should happen to these peaceful messengers. After careful thought, and having sought counsel from above, I resolved, with the cordial approval of brother Hamilton, to escort them to the Bahurutse, after which they could go on without fear to their own country.
“I hired a waggon for their conveyance, and left this place on the 9th of November. We travelled quickly, and reached the Bahurutse at Mosega a little south of Kurrechane in ten days. We had been traversing immense and monotonous plains, the only objects of no A LAND OF DESOLATION.
interest upon which were occasional troops of game, including giraffes and rhinoceros. We passed without visiting the Barolong villages at Kunwana.
“At Sitlagole, a sand river about one hundred and sixty miles from Kuruman, we had just halted, and our oxen had gone little further than a gun-shot in front of the waggons, when two lions appeared, one of which rushed down upon the cattle, sprang upon one of them, and with one bite at the back of the neck laid him dead. All hands hastened with guns and spears to dispute possession of the carcase with the king of the desert, and he hastened away, making no attempt to regain his booty.
“Reaching Mosega we were received with much pleasure by Mokatle, the chief of the Bahurutse. We were detained for three days by torrents of rain, during which I embraced every opportunity of making him and his people acquainted with Divine things. Many still remembered Mr. Campbell. Mokatle had long wished to visit his new neighbour, but had not dared to venture himself within the grasp of one who had ravaged the country.
“Having fulfilled my engagement in conveying my charge safely to the Bahurutse, 1 resolved to return; but of this they would not hear. They entreated me to accompany them to their master, who, they declared, would be ready to kill them for allowing me to go back after coming so far. I at last consented, and Mokatle, seeing that if he accompanied me he would now have some chance of returning alive, started with us. The country now became beautiful; hills and valleys, with groves of a richer foliage than I had seen before, and numerous running streams of excellent water, all flowing towards the Indian Ocean.
“The whole country appeared to have once contained a dense population, but was now, since the invasion of the Mantatees and the terror of the Matebele, become the habitation of wild beasts and venomous reptiles; where lions roamed at large as if conscious that there was none to oppose, and emboldened by having become accustomed to gorge on human flesh owing to the destructive warfare which had raged for some years. We were mercifully preserved, though our slumbers were often interrupted by the hideous serenade.
“Five days after leaving the Bahurutse, we came to the first outpost of the Matebele. The country through which we now passed was along a range of hills running nearly east and south-east, while the country to the north and east became more level and beautifully studded with small chains of mountains and conical hills, along the bases of which lay the ruins of innumerable towns, some of amazing extent. Many an hour I walked pensively among these scenes of desolation, casting my thoughts back to the time when these now desolate haljitations teemed with life and revelry, and when the hills and dales echoed with heathen joy. Nothing now remains but dilapidated walls and heaps of stones and rubbish, which form a covert for the game and for the lion. Occasionally a town may be met with where the principal folds are now occupied by the cattle of the savage victors From having Matebele with me, I found it difficult to obtain local information from the scattered and now degraded aborigines we occasionally met, who trembled before them, and dared not to give a satisfactory answer in the presence of the men now their masters, who ruled them with a rod of iron.
“In this neighbourhood we were detained again three days by the rain, which fell in torrents until the valleys resounded with the roar of rivers and waterfalls. Every sort of vegetation was exceedingly luxuriant, and immense quantities of native corn grew wild among the ruins of the towns. We at last went on, but with difficulty, on account of the nature of the ground. The plains were saturated, and the black peaty clay so adhesive that each wheel became clogged with a solid mass, almost too tough to be cleared away. We had to make towards the rising ground, where the soil was more sandy and free. This was accomplished at the cost of so much labour and time that we halted at sunset after a short but most oppressive stage.
“Next day we continued our course over a picturesque country, and crossed many fine rivulets. Towards evening we came to the Oori River, a pretty large stream, in which sport the hippopotamus and the crocodile. At this place the river passes through a range of high hills, and flowing N.N.E. is joined by other streams, after which it is called the Lempopo. We crossed the hills by a pass, and halted on the banks of the Oori where it enters the range, crossing next day, and halting at a town where we were to await orders as to our future course. Next day we went on, and at length came within sight of the king’s abode.
“Having preceded the waggons on horseback, we entered the large public cattle-fold, where were ranged in a semicircle about eight hundred warriors in full dress. About three hundred more sat concealed in ambush, perhaps for precaution or to try our courage. We proceeded to the centre of the fold, when they beckoned us to dismount. We had scarcely reached the ground when those who were secreted at the entrance rushed in, shouting and leaping with the most fantastic gestures, so that our horses, unaccustomed to such fun, tried to break away from us.
“A profound silence followed for some ten minutes; then all commenced a war-song, stamping their feet in time with the music. No one approached, though every eye was fixed upon us. Then all was silent, and Mosilikatse marched out from behind the lines with an interpreter, and with attendants following bearing meat, beer, and other food. He gave us a hearty salutation and seemed overjoyed. By this time the waggons were drawing near, and as he had never seen such things before he desired to see them walk, as he called it. We left the fold, the warriors maintaining their positions in perfect silence. As the waggons drew near he seemed awestruck, moving backward and dragging me along with him. When they had halted, and the oxen were unyoked, he approached with caution, grasping me with one hand and holding the other on his mouth. He spoke little at first, but examined all minutely, especially the wheels, and when told of how many parts each wheel was composed his surprise seemed to reach its climax. He then returned to the fold, where he was received by his warriors with immense bursts of applause.
“I stayed eight days, during which I had many interviews with the chief and received many tokens of his friendship. I was struck with the way in which he testified his gratitude. Laying his hand on my shoulder he said, ‘My heart is all white as milk; I am still wondering at the love of a stranger who never saw me. You have fed me, you have protected me, you have carried me in your arms. I live to-day by you, a stranger.’
“I replied that I was not aware’of having rendered him such service. Pointing to the chiefs who had visited the Kuruman he instantly rejoined, * These are my great servants whom I love; they are my eyes and ears, and what you did to them you did to me.’
“I took an early opportunity of telling him of my object as a missionary among the Bechwanas, and that I had not come to hunt or to trade. I wished to return at once, having gained the object of my journey. I told him I was a teacher from God, the Creator of all things and Governor among the nations, and in visiting him I had also in view the time when his people also might receive messengers from God to tell them of another and a better world beyond the grave.
“I had long conversations with him on these subjects. I took the opportunity of pointing out to him the horrors of war, and directed his attention to the depopulated country once swarming with inhabitants, who had lived in comparative peace and plenty. I told him how I had met with only a few wretched individuals, the remnant of all the multitudes that must have been either destroyed or scattered. I told him that though his cattle-posts were numerous they were lost in the immense and solitary region which was as a land that mourned, while innumerable bones that strewed the plains seemed to call to heaven for vengeance. He tried to lay the blame on Mantatees and others who had preceded him: but time would fail to tell of all the subjects on which we talked.
*’ I felt glad when the day came that I could return home. Short as my stay was, the varied instances of despotism and horrid cruelty made me feel as if I sojourned in the tents of Kedar. Everything I saw or heard filled me with melancholy. I had never before come in contact with such savage or degraded minds. Truly the dark places of the earth are full of the habitations of cruelty. Let such as philosophize on the happiness enjoyed by man in his savage state, visit such scenes and hear the ten thousand sighs and groans which echo in these gloomy shades, and shudder at the innocent blood shed through the length and breadth of heathen lands — and then, if they can, tell the world that such are happy.
“Mosilikatse showed much anxiety to prolong my stay. My engagements at home made it impossible to delay. He often made me promise to visit him at some future time and to stay a year. I assured him I should not cease to remember him, and to pray for him and his people that God might send them teachers. As the time drew near for my departure his attachment seemed to increase, so much that some of his people thought I had given him some kind of medicine which made him love me. He accompanied me a short distance from the town, when he took my hand and addressing me by name, said:
‘Ramary, your visit to me seems like a dream; my heart will follow you. Go in peace to Kuruman, and when you come again bring Mamary with you. Tell the white king I wish to live in friendship. He must not allow the Batlaro and the Korannas to come and annoy me as they have done. Let the road to the Kuruman for ever remain open.’ As the waggons moved off, he and his men sat down on the grass and chanted some dirge; and I walked away musing on all the things I had seen, and on the deplorable condition of the heathen world.
“His attention and kindness have been unbounded. He appointed Umbate to accompany me for several days; and said that at a certain place on the road I should find a couple of horns. This proved to be some cattle which were delivered to me as a present from him at one of the outposts.
“After a quick journey I reached Kuruman in safety, having been absent two months.’’