Dark Clouds with a Silver Lining

Livingstone did not fail to carry out his project of again visiting the lake, and of extending his explorations to a considerable distance beyond. He had the company of his friend Mr. Oswell, who had endeared himself to the Livingstones and the Moffats. He was one of those whose influence was on the right side, calculated to give the natives a high esteem for the English character. On this expedition Livingstone had with him his wife and family, and the chief, Sechele, also accompanied him, not without the idea of moving eventually with his tribe to some of the regions newly opened up, so as to avoid the collision with the Boers which all felt was inevitable. The idea was never carried out. It would have been attended with insuperable difficulties.

On their return to Kolobeng the travellers were in a somewhat reduced condition, particularly Mary Livingstone and the children. Hearing this, her mother, ever on the alert, set off once more alone to carry succour and supplies, and as soon as convenient prevailed upon the Livingstones to return with her to the Kuruman and to recruit their exhausted strength. It was one of her greatest pleasures, and continued to be to the end, to feel that Kuruman was serving the purpose not only of a prosperous missionary station in itself, but of a basis of operations for those who were at work further into the interior. Many are those who have found its value in this respect.

In a letter to his friend, Dr. Bruce, of Newcastle, on the twentieth of March, 1851, Moffat says:

“We are getting on here as fast as we can in what we firmly believe is the work of God. We are instant in season and out of season in our public duties and in the work of translation, but the progress is slow, igo TRANSLATION AND PRINTING GO ON.

very slow. Could I obtain a competent amanuensis it would greatly facilitate my progress in translation. The printing goes on at snails’ pace, from the want of a sufficient quantity of type, and the want also of compositors on whom we can depend. One is taught, and perhaps he leaves to live with friends at a distance; another does not like the confinement; and as printing is only one section of the round of pressing duties which devolve on the missionary it must frequently wait his time. Lately a new edition of Isaiah, Proverbs, and Preacher was turned off, but will not be bound up till the smaller Prophets are also printed. We have commenced the Pentateuch: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, and Deuteronomy are ready. Numbers will be comparatively light work. Translation I feel to be hard work, and I have my fears that my head will not stand till the whole is completed; but it is comforting to know that God will carry on His work as well without as with me,

“The Livingstones were some months with us, and have returned improved in health. It is probable that he will visit the lake, or rather Sebetoane, the ensuing winter, accompanied by Mr. Oswell.

“Although a war with the Kafirs has been raging in the Colony for nearly three months, it is only within these few days that we have received papers giving us an account. Opportunities between the nearest post office at Colesberg, two hundred and fifty miles away, and this are sometimes few and far between, and it is not improbable that you hear now that a line of steamers has been established sooner than we do here of the war and of the real state of the frontier. There can be no doubt but in the end it will go wofuUy with the Kafirs and the Hottentots, who have rebelled.”

Mary Moffat to her Father.

“June 7, 1851.

“For some time past my conscience has been burdened for not writing to you or to Mrs. Sheldon, but I have deferred so long that now you must be first by all means. When I think of your extreme age, and how frequently you have of late been unwell, I am ashamed to seem to neglect you so; but you would readily excuse me if you knew how difficult it is for me to get a quiet hour, and my head has long been so weak that when disturbed my ideas leave me. I miss Ann very much in this respect, as she used to take charge of my little affairs entirely when I wished a day for writing. In this country, if the riistress of a house abstracts herself from domestic affairs, all hands seem to hold up — they seem as if they could not go on without propelling. It is just so with the men outside, which Robert feels very annoying; for though we have not the same work as in former years, having now only our buildings to keep in repair, yet we must farm and garden to keep our household in food, for now we cannot be snug as people can in England, where everything can be purchased. How gladly would we retire to some little cot with one servant, but it seems that we must drudge on to the end of life with such work.

“Robert is now more closely engaged at translation than at any former period, and he would fain let everything of a secular kind alone, and purchase for our wants; but this is so precarious in this dry country that it seems a pity not to use our fine garden, besides which it is ceitainly conducive to his health, however irksome he may feel it at the time, and chiefly on this account I persuade him to go on cultivating the ground. He has for some time past — I think nearly a year — been troubled with a peculiar affection of the head, which I do not like. It is a constant roaring noise like the falling of a cataract, then like buzzing or boiling up of waters; it never ceases night and day, though he does not feel it when entirely absorbed in study, but the moment he gives up there it is again. When preaching it is also absent. He loses much sleep from it. He has wanted to bleed himself, but I have discouraged it, for there is no appearance of fulness about him; he is very abstemious, and takes sparingly of nourishment. A cup of coffee too much will increase it.

“You may wonder that, after our long residence here, the people are not more clever. But you may remember our station was composed of people of all tribes, and since missionaries have gone into the interior some of our people of the best abilities have gone back to their own countries, where the other missions reap the advantage, so that we arc ever teaching fresh ones. And there is really not that advancement in civilization which we did expect. They are content with such small attainments. Now the length of my apology will surprise you, but I hope it will give you information of our present circumstances.

“The Lord’s goodness to yourself, my venerated parent, is very great; how far He has exceeded faith’s largest demands! I have not forgotten the conflict which rent my bosom on your account when we were in England, when I could not see how your wants were to be supplied. At that time I heard George Clayton preach from the words, * Man shall not live by bread alone.’ The train of his ideas was exactly suited to the state of my mind, and thenceforth I endeavoured to believe that my God would supply all your need. Unbelief has often tried to drive me out of this stronghold. I have feared that the barrel of meal would waste, the cruse of oil would fail; but, blessed be God! He continues His mercy — yea, and will do to the end. In all your sickness and infirmities you have lacked no good thing.

“You will hear of the awful state of the Colony from the Kafir war. We are quite confounded by the Hottentot rebellion. This is a public calamity indeed, and will be a tremendous blow to the missionary cause. All societies will feel it for a long time, but especially our own. No doubt all these things will be thoroughly investigated, and all sides of the question considered; but it is difficult for us to see how it is possible to exculpate them from heavy blame, such as fills the mouths of blasphemers. They are now pouring out their rage and spite against missionaries, and even the press teems with taunts and reproaches. The defection of the Kat River Hottentots has depressed our spirits no little; besides that, the missions south-east of us, French and Wesleyan, are all in trouble.

“There is much to discouragCj yet we feel we must not despair I was a few days ago greatly animated by a retrospect which seemed to force itself upon me at our last missionary prayer-meeting. The first verses sung were of a hymn, a pretty good translation of * O’er the gloomy hills of darkness.’ My thoughts were involuntarily led back to the time when I first heard that hymn sung, and to the same tune too, and all my feelings on that occasion seemed to be revived. This was at Queen Street Chapel, Chester, when you, my dear father, went to Park Gate, and so kindly took me to be present at the first missionary meeting held in our part of the country, a season which I never shall forget: it was a Bethel to my soul. The sermon of the venerable Dr. Waugh, or rather the impression it produced then, was revived. ‘In the multitude of my thoughts within me, thy comforts delight my soul,’ was his text. What an odd subject, thought I, for a missionary sermon, but he soon convinced me that he could not have found a better in the whole Bible.

‘* The image of the venerable man is still in my mind’s eye. He was full of pathos, and solemn as eternity; he seemed to me on the borders of the heavenly world while describing the comforts and consolations, the blooming hopes of immortality, possessed by every real Christian. But the effect produced was by the contrast he then drew — and such a contrast! How did he set before us the condition of the heathen world which knew not God, sunk in the filth of vice and gross superstition, without hope and without God in the world.

“My mind was powerfully affected. I was very young, and had not the slightest prospect of joining the missionary band, but felt that the cause was worth a thousand lives. Now, my dear father, after more than thirty years in the service, I had begun to despond a little, but on that evening, when I came to remember how we found the whole of this country north of the Orange River, and see the change wrought, I felt ashamed of my gloom. We found these people just what Dr. Waugh described them to be. Now we can say that we believe many souls have passed into glory. There are native teachers in different parts of the country, imparting a knowledge of reading and of the first principles of the gospel. There are, on the different stations, thousands who can read the oracles of truth, and, as you know, large portions of that sacred Word are in their hands. All these, and other thoughts of the same kind, passed rapidly through my mind after the singing of those verses by Christian Bechwanas, and I came home stronger in my hopes and expectations for the kingdom of Christ in poor Africa than I had been for some months.

“What, thought I, if these results had been set before my mind, on hearing Dr. Waugh, as the fruit of the labours of but a few missionaries, should I have hesitated for a moment about joining such a band in my feeble capacity as a female? or would my parents have refused to surrender me? No, it could not be; and now should we all rather feel honoured in having had any share in the matter.

“Livingstone is again away to the lake, intending to seek a field there, or rather beyond it. He seems determined to get out of the reach of the Boers. We have been affected on hearing of the death of so many of the servants of Christ at home, just when they seemed to us so much needed. What wonderful things you have lived to see! We feel intense anxiety for the newspapers just now, from the state of our own beloved country and also the state of the Colony. We expect a batch in a few days by Hume’s waggons, the letters having come beforehand.

“I find that Helen sent a portrait of yourself by a Mr. Galton, who was to have come here but changed his route, endeavouring to reach the lake from the west coast. The portrait he sent to Colesberg; there it got into careless hands, and has lain some months at Griqua Town. I hope soon to get it, however. Mr. Galton and party left the Cape, I think, in November, and we hear nothing of them since they arrived at Angra Pequena....

“Now, my dear father, I must draw to a close, and cannot but feel solemn when I do so, always thinking this may be the last letter I shall write to you. You will not doubt our constantly praying for you, as also for Moffat’s mother. She is now in her eighty-fourth year, and you are both constantly borne on our hearts at the throne of grace. We believe that He who has led you, and fed you, and guided you for so many years, will be with you when heart and flesh fail. His rod and His staff shall comfort you! Should you go before us, we shall soon follow you if we have grace to endure to the end, and this hope takes away the pang of separation. I have long been disposed tn congratulate all good people on their emancipation from the body of death.”

A few words will not be out of place here about the rebellion of the Kat River Hottentots referred to in the foregoing letter. It was truly, as Mary Moffat says, a most tremendous blow to the missionary cause in South Africa. For many years it remained a terrible missile in the hands of those who wanted one. Nor is it possible to say that the Hottentots were anything but ungrateful and infatuated rebels against a government which, upon the whole, had meant well and done well by them. But there was another side of the question, as was conclusively shown by the late Sir Andries Stockenstrom, who, in his place as a Colonial legislator, made a full exposure of the manner in which these Hottentots had been dealt with and subjected to treatment which did not justify their rebellion, but accounted for and in a measure excused it.

It was the old story — which, unfortunately, in South Africa is ever new. Loyalty to Government, especially on the part of natives, is a dangerous and unprofitable virtue; and whilst rebellion too often has been pampered and has received all that it sought, the loyal have been left to suffer for their devotion.

It can hardly be expected that even Christianized Hottentots should be found more faithful to an ahen government than its own people. Iheir constancy was overtaxed, and it gave way; but it is a fair question whether these misguided rebels were more to blame than those whose injustice made them such.

Mary Moffat to one of her Children.

“Oct. 23, 1851.

“We have received all your letters per steamer up to that of May, which arrived early in August, while those of March and April came only on the 5th of September. Our letters and papers come with strange irregularity; nor can we discover where the fault lies, as sometimes, even when people are at Colesberg on the arrival of the post, we get, perhaps, a letter or two of a late date, while all the English papers are at least a month older. Our latest papers now are of the 7th of June, and these came with Mr. Ashton, who was there himself when the post arrived. Mr. Bruce’s letter of May gave us the first account of the opening of the Great Exhibition. You will have heard from your sisters of the death of our venerable friend and brother, Mr. Hamilton. We had the Fredouxs here about two months, which was a relief, as we did not feel so much the blank in our circle. Truly we do now feel lonely, and should be glad indeed to have some of you here, but this is not likely for a permanency. The whole country has been very dry; our fine grassy street was one mass of loose dust, so that I was fatigued by walking to Mr. Ashton’s; but we have at last had some showers, and everything looks splendid. The great willow tree is majestic; the syringas have been one sheet of bloom and the perfume delicious; and now the orange trees are sending forth their still more grateful scent. The pomegranate hedge, with its numerous scarlet flowers, exceeds everything; the grass is again growing, and all nature looks gay at the Kuruman. Many parts of the valley are covered with corn, and others soon will be with maize and native grain, which have just been sown. I regret to say your willow is dead; it did not like its new position. A syringa tree has taken its place. The cypress you procured for me is a splendid tree; it shall represent you, or rather the time of your departure. It stands between the fig-trees and the house where the printing-rollers are kept.

“But, alas I we seem to want something to make us enjoy these beauties. Not one of you, our dear children, to flit about among them. Once you were here, but now all looks so sad without you; and dear old Mr. Hamilton, too, gone. Well, the time is short, and if we never again see you here we must hope to meet one family in heaven.”

Robert Moffat to Dr. Bruce, of Newcastle.

“Oct. 30, 1851.” Yours of May the 12th and April the 12th I have lying before me, and, to my shame, unanswered. Mrs. Moffat has from time to time jogged my memory, but you cannot conceive what a threefold cord it requires to drag me from the work of translation. ‘Next time’ has been my reply; and next time and time again passes, and what may be deemed the little exertion of writing a letter is left undone. But I am getting more nervous in the work. I feel to grudge the appropriation of any mental exertion apart from translation, for it seems impossible to redeem time at a work of that kind, and suitable aids are not to be had here for love or money. Add to this that I feel my head, usually so strong, the worse for wear, and it is giving unmistakable evidence that its best days are gone by. This, of course, makes me most anxious that the remaining time and strength be devoted to a work a sense of the importance of which increases with my years, and which I hope most ardently to see one day finished. To you I need not describe the extreme difficulty there is in translating that wonderful book, the book of God, into a language the capabilities of which have not yet been fully tested. While on the subject, let me tell you that at present (to-day) I am at the fourteenth verse of the twenty-first chapter of Numbers, where I came to a dead halt yesterday, and spent more than half the day on the fourteenth and following verses, examining lexicons, versions, and commentators. You may guess the time it takes when I tell you that before I write down the shortest sentence I have to look to several translations of the Bible to see how each has it rendered. The Dutch is a valuable translation in coming nearest to the original. Sometimes the pen glides, and then again I am bewildered, and that frequently with passages which to a plain Bible reader would appear to be language in its simplest form; but this, of course, arises from the character of the Sechwana....

“I have perhaps said more on this subject than is necessary, but it is one that lies near my heart. We are thankful for thus having work which, in the end, we trust will redound to the Divine glory in the conversion of souls. We cannot expect to see a redeemed, or rather a reformed, world. The Bible must be read in every language from shore to shore. We have this comfort, that we are preparing material for future aggression on Satan’s kingdom in this benighted continent. I say comforted, for our present prospects are at best very gloomy. War has comparatively destroyed missionary labour in Kafirland, and its baneful influence has extended through every Colonial station. The demon, as is usual, has cast his baleful shadow on other tribes, so that, with the exception of a few isolated spots, the public mind is in one ferment from Walwich Bay on the west to Delagoa or Natal on the east. As you may have learned, there has been a rumpus of a rather sanguinary character in the sovereignty between native tribes and the British power at Bloemfontein, in which the latter will likely be compelled to come to an agreement of peace on easier terms than are generally offered at the point of the bayonet, but minus that little bit of a thing misnamed honour. Then there are the native tribes looking at each other, as the Bechwanas say, with cat’s eyes.

“The prospects of our missions among the Bahurutse, Bakhatla, and Bakwena, are melancholy. According to human observation scarcely anything has been achieved, and to all appearance a dark and gathering cloud will soon burst over them, and frustrate any effort to save the natives in either soul or body. They are prostrate before the overwhelming power of the insurgent Boers. These would be speedily expelled were the natives unanimous, but they are the very reverse. An unusual blindness prevents their looking at the future. Present existence is all they think of. An independent spirit is a very rare thing among them. For nearly two generations they have been scattered and peeled. Sechele is an exception to the general spirit, and, if all be true we hear, the Boers are meditating his reduction, and perhaps destruction.

“Livingstone and Oswell were in Sebetoane’s country by last accounts, north-east of the Ngami lake. Think only what a journey for a wife and children. We shall wonder and be very thankful if they all come back safe. How mysterious are the dealings of our heavenly Father, how immutable His government. It humbles us, for it shows us how blind we are as to the agency He employs for the accomplishment of what will be for His own glory; for we know that the Judge of all the earth will do right. Well! it is ours to labour and to pray, and His to bless.”

Robert Moffat to Dr. Tidman.

“Nov. 22, 1852.

“I have to acknowledge yours of the 14th of July. I feel deeply sensible of the kindness of the Directors in their expressions of sympathy with me under my present circumstances, and their generous offer to supply whatever want might arise in the carrying into effect what they recommend for my recovery and future usefulness. Although of their kind and fraternal regard I have never had cause to doubt, I am nevertheless gratified with the assurance they have given me of their entire willingness to become responsible for any necessary expenses which a journey to and a sojourn at the coast might involve. What could I desire more, as this relieves my mind entirely on a point on which I should have felt considerable embarrassment. For this information please present my heartfelt thanks to the Directors, whose confidence in me I trust, through Divine grace, will never cause a shadow of regret.

“While, however, I might be influenced by the advice of those who are better able to judge of my health than myself to remove to the coast for a short season, my present circumstances are such as to render the thing almost impracticable. Nay, I conceive it would be highly improper unless the exigency were much greater than I think it is. I shall endeavour briefly to state my reasons, the cogency of which will be cheerfully corroborated by my brethren Livingstone and Ashton, however much they could desire, and do desire, my restoration to perfect health and prolonged service in the Bechwana Mission. The state of the country is such as it has not been since I entered the field. The violent opposition of the tribes to the introduction of the gospel during the early years of the mission, the threatened destruction by the hordes of Mantatees, and the successful and devastating inroads made by the mixed freebooters, Korannas, Griquas, and Bushmen, appear now in our eyes as mere gusts compared to the storm which threatens to sweep away all the labours of missionaries and philanthropists to save the aborigines from annihilation. This is a time when all the wisdom, caution, and firmness that can be called into action are required. We need all the heads we have, even were they sevenfold better than they are, with fervent, persevering prayer that the Divine Spirit would lift up a standard against the approaching enemy.

“The mission among the Bakwena, commenced by Livingstone, and latterly under the care of a native teacher, is a scene of solitude, brooding over ashes and dead men’s bones; while Sechele and his followers, who escaped the balls of the Boers, are in the fastnesses of a neighbouring mountain, suffering from want, their supplies having been taken or destroyed by the enemy. The Bakhatla of Mabotsa have been attacked, many slain, and the survivors scattered in the desert wilds. The Bahurutse of Mathebe, the third missionary station, are prostrate, because on the side of their oppressors there is power. Our two native teachers among the Bangwaketsi, as well as the one with the Bakwena, have had to retire with much loss of property. The Barolong on the Lotlakane, among whom Mr. Ludorf, a Wesleyan missionary, was living, have fled to the westward, and Mr. L. is on his way southward, seeing no possibility of continuing his labours.

“The Boers can give no reason whatever for all this, except it be that all the aborigines must become their vassals; and they conceive that they have a special right to engage in wars and to dispossess chiefs of the lands of their forefathers, on account of the late treaty between them and the British Government, in which their independence north of the Vaal River is acknowledged and proclaimed. Every act of rapine and bloodshed is carried on with the excuse that the country is theirs by authority of the Queen of England. This strange note jars horribly on the ears of the natives. Their estimation of the English was once very high. Such is the present state of the country beyond us, and how near the enemy may approach, or how soon this quarter may be visited with the dire calamities which have befallen others, is hidden from our eyes. We look to Him that is higher than the highest.

“The state of things as above described renders it next to impossible for me to leave at the present time. Again, in addition to the charge of Sechele’s children whom he sent to my care for their education eight months ago, he also sent hither, after the attack of the Boers, his wife and little ones, with a considerable retinue for safety. These are all on my premises, and are to a considerable extent dependent on me for supplies. Such entire confidence in us we reciprocate with pleasure from a persuasion that it will hereafter turn to the furtherance of the gospel. We feel as if we could not on any account abandon our charge. Again, there is the work of translation, which appears to me paramount to everything else. My buzzing head does not, I think, retard progress, though it may render the work more laborious. The closer I stick to the work the less inconvemence I fed Were I to leave my mind to take its own swin. 1 would thmk of nothmg else, and would break down alto-ether a! It is I have scarcely time to think of anything but what must be thought of earnestly and perseveringly; and in doing so I find the most rehef. I am going to resume attention to the suggestions of

lth ff IT^V ^1^’”^. ^^^1 extremely thankful, fnd also to the Rev. Mr. Ellis, for the pains they have taken.