Journey to Namaqualand

Robert Moffat and his companions reached Cape Town on the thirteenth of January, 18 17, having been eighty-six days at sea in their little brig. They were well pleased with their passage and with each other, peace and goodwill having prevailed among them, and the captain having shown them unvarying kindness. They were received in Cape Town by the Rev. George Thom, N

then or afterwards a minister of the Dutch Reformed Church.

Two of the party were destined for stations within the Colony; Moffat and Kitchingman were to go to Namaqualand, which was beyond the border, and it was necessary for them to have the permission of the Government before they could proceed on their journey. To their great surprise this permission was refused. An interview with His Excellency the Governor followed, of which the following is a record:

“His Excellency stated that it was the intention to prohibit us as well as other missionaries from proceeding beyond the limits of the Colony; that he had been informed that many of the servants and slaves belonging to the farmers within the Colony had fled to Griqua Town as an asylum; and that he understood from a letter that Mr. Anderson exhorted them to go back, but that he considered it not the intention of the Society to drive such characters back by force of arms to their former masters.

“Mr. Taylor replied that it certainly was not the intention of the Society that we should arbitrarily govern by force of arms, but that we should introduce religious civilization.

“His Excellency stated that the collecting of individuals together was likely to prove fatal, they being without the limits of the Colony. He said because the population of the Colony was thin, that when men were called up in case of war they were not to be found; and that, also, such a body of men without government laws was likely to mutiny, and so to prove fatal to the missionaries and also to the Colony.”

It was in vain for the missionaries to plead and to urge such arguments as common sense suggested. It was true that escaped slaves and criminals were continually making their way across the frontier and settling beyond the reach of the Government; but this was going on quite apart from the question as to whether there were or were not missionaries in those regions already; and it did not seem to occur to the men in authority that if Christian teachers chose to exile themselves, and perhaps to incur peril in following their duty by going into those remote districts, their influence would tend to diminish the dangers and inconveniences which were supposed to threaten the Colony.

Under these circumstances the only thing that was left for them to do was to await orders from home, and meanwhile to make the best use they could of their time. Taylor went, for the time, to a missionary institution not far away; the Kitchingmans took up their abode in Tulbagh, and Moffat in Stellenbosch, the latter a village about thirty-six miles from Cape Town. Here he lodged with a Dutch wine farmer named Hamman, who was not only hospitable, but a man of deep piety and earnest missionary spirit.

The object of this arrangement was to give the young missionary an opportunity of learning Dutch, which it did not take him long to do, placed as he was among those who could speak or understand no other language. Much as he must have been discouraged and perplexed by the long delay, it was always a great advantage to him in after life to have had this enforced detention. He was in a position to go to work at once when he did eventually reach Namaqualand, and it was at all times a great advantage to him during his missionary career to be able to speak Dutch. During the period of his stay at Stellenbosch, he accompanied Mr. Thorn on an evangelistic tour extending over six weeks, in which they rode a distance of about seven hundred miles, in the district of the Western Province adjacent to the Cape.

To any one who knows the present condition of the country round which they travelled, it would be curious to read how the evangelists found themselves in a desolate region, with primitive homesteads few and far between, where now many a smiling village lies nestled amongst its trees. In these then lonely spots small congregation gladly assembled from many miles around to listen to the preaching of the gospel, which was to them a rare privilege.

Sometimes the travellers would be belated in the wilds, and would have to make their bivouac on a hillside, and be treated to a serenade more wild than sweet of jackals and hyaenas. From these there was no danger: but they were sometimes in fear of visitors of another kind, for the mountainous districts were full of fugitives, mostly runaway slaves, whose hand was against every man.

After a further stay at Stellenbosch, Moffat returned to Cape Town, where he busied himself with picking up everything in the shape of practical knowledge that came within his reach, and found a congenial outlet for his zeal in visiting the military hospital. Many of the soldiers were Scotch, and he had a peculiarly tender feeling towards soldiers. His brother Alexander had gone to India in the ranks some years before, and at this time nothing was known as to what had become of him.

The long detention at length came to an end. The scruples of the Governor were overcome, apparently by the efforts of Mr. Thom, who was possessed of some influence and of much perseverance. Permission was granted to Kitchingman and Moffat to go their way. No time was lost; the necessary preparations were made, waggons were bought, oxen were hired, and on the twenty-second day of September, 181 7, Moffat bade farewell to the many warm friends whom he had found in Cape Town and Stellenbosch.

His companions were the Kitchingmans and the Ebners. With the latter he expected not only to travel but to be a fellow-labourer at Afrikaner’s kraal, where Ebner had already been for some time resident.

The record of the journey, like many in the olden time, is one of hardship and difficulty. Every day which took the travellers farther from Cape Town brought them into a more desolate region, in which the lonely homesteads became fewer, and approached an almost complete isolation. With a few exceptions the farmers were friendly and wished the travellers well. The chief Afrikaner had earned himself a terrible reputation, and the reports that he was now a changed character were not readily believed by the Boers. Many were the gloomy prognostications. One motherly dame shed tears over the comely lad — for he was little more, being not quite twenty-two years old — who, in her belief, was going into the lion’s mouth.

One evening he halted at a farm which showed signs of belonging to a man of wealth and importance, who had many slaves.

The old patriarch, hearing that he was a missionary, gave him a hearty welcome, and proposed that in the evening he should give them a service. No proposal could have been more acceptable, and he sat down to the plain but plentiful meal with a light heart. The sons and daughters came in. Supper ended, a clearance was made, the big Bible and the psalm-books were brought out, and the family was seated.

“But where are the servants?” asked Moffat

“Servants! what do you mean?”

“I mean the Hottentots, of whom I see so many on your
farm.”

“Hottentots! Do you mean that, then! Let me go to the mountain and call the baboons, if you want a congregation of that sort. Or stop, I have it: my sons, call the dogs that lie in front of the door — they will do.”

The missionary quietly dropped an attempt which threatened a wrathful ending, and commenced the service. The psalm was sung, prayer was offered, and the preacher read the story of the Syrophenician woman, and selected more especially the words: “Truth, Lord, but even the dogs eat of the crumbs that fall from the master’s table.” He had not spoken many minutes when the voice of the old man was again heard: “Will Mynheer sit down and wait a little; he shall have the Hottentots.”

The summons was given, the motley crowd trooped in, many who probably had never been within the door of their master’s house before, and many more who never before had heard the voice of a preacher.

When the service was over and the astonished Hottentots had dispersed, the farmer turned to his guest and said, “My friend, you took a hard hammer and you have broken a hard head.”

This must not be taken as an instance representing the universal feeling of a class. Even in those days there were God-fearing and earnest-minded Boers who did their best for their slaves; and now, thanks to the labours of many devoted ministers, there is a true and growing missionary spirit in the Dutch population of South Africa.

As the travellers got farther on their way their difficulties increased. They advanced into an almost pathless region, barren and stony hills, intersecting plains of sand, with scanty trickling springs, and occasional but uncertain pools of water, at long intervals. Their oxen grew weaker day by day; the little flock of sheep on which they depended for mutton was dispersed by the hyrcna and lost; and they were thankful to reach at last a haven of rest in the missionary station of Byzondermeid, more than two months after they had left Cape Town. Here the Kitchingmans were to remain, and Moffat after a time continued his journey to Afrikaner’s kraal, where he rejoined Mr. Ebner and his family, on the twenty-sixth of January, 18i8