Journey to Lattakoo
Early in the year 1820 the missionary party started from Cape Town. It consisted of John Campbell and the Mofifats. When once they had left the fertile vallies and lovely mountain scenery of the Breede and Hex Rivers, they had to traverse a comparatively desolate region for some hundreds of miles. In the middle of this they came to the place on which is now found the village of Beaufort West, about three hundred and fifty miles from Cape Town. Here there was as yet a house or two only. The newly appointed magistrate and the clergyman of the Dutch Reformed Church were the principal inhabitants: the latter, a Mr. Taylor, one of Moffat’s late colleagues. Passing Beaufort West, they in the course of a day or two crossed what was then the Colonial boundary and advanced into the Bushman country, a dreary waste extending to the southern bank of the Orange River. Here, after seven weeks of ox-waggon travelling, they found themselves about six hundred miles from Cape Town. This journey can now be accomplished by railway in a couple of days. It is impossible to describe the curious sensations which fill the minds of those who have had occasion many times to make this journey in the old style, when, for the first time seated in a comfortable railway carriage, they glide over plains which can scarcely ever be anything but monotonous, and mark hour by hour the spots which used to be the night’s bivouac after a long and toilsome day’s march; for the line is almost identical with the trade and missionary route of the old days.
The travellers crossed the Orange River without much difficulty, as it was low. This was its normal condition. Although a stream of a thousand miles in length, rising not very far from the shore of the Indian Ocean, and crossing the continent to fall into the
so
Atlantic, it is for the most part shallow enough to be fordable for the greater part of the year. This did not prevent it in years of exceptional rainfall from being a serious obstacle at times, as will be noticed by the reader who follows this narrative. For months the great channel would show a narrow stream brawling over a small part of the broad stony bed j but when the river rose, as it did sometimes, suddenly, a muddy flood would fill it up to the very top of the steep banks twenty or thirty feet high, covering even great willow-trees growing on those banks, and sometimes spreading beyond and over the adjacent levels.
Two or three days’ north of the river lay Griqua Town, and here the party made a halt for a time. Kuruman — or Lattakoo, as it was first called — was a hundred miles further. The missionaries Hamilton and Read were already there, but had scarcely established their footing.
“Beaufort West, Feb. 17, 1820.
•’ My beloved Parents, — Having by the good providence of God been brought thus far on our journey, been mercifully preserved from all dangers in this wild and barren country, and enjoying good health, I feel it incumbent upon me to write by every opportunity, conscious that soon my opportunities may be very few of sending letters to the Cape. We have experienced much of our Heavenly Father’s love while traversing the barren sandy desert. We are all well, and, excepting a little headache, my health is extraordinary. It is true I feel a little feeble and languid in the very heat of the day, but am not sickly as I always was at home in warm weather. I never was more vigorous than I am now in the cool of the day; and when I consider the manner in which we live, just eating and sleeping when it is convenient, I am truly astonished. It is frequently one or two o’clock when we outspan. I like waggon travelling better than I expected. It is not so fatiguing. I have had none of those hardships which I looked for. Our table is generally well spread, better than we shall look for when settled as poor missionaries; this is partly owing to Mr. Campbell being with us, and partly owing to Mr. Moffat’s being well known in the country, and receiving liberal presents. At a Mr. De Vos’s, where we last stopped a few days, at the Hex River, we experienced the most unmerited kindness, though they had never seen one of our party before. I never met with so much hospitality in my life as I have witnessed in Africa, though the Dutch are considered fond of saving. We have met with many of the descendants of the French refugees. They originally took refuge in one of the deep vallies near the Paarl, where, as a people, they still reside; the name of the place is Frans Hoek; but, as might be expected, they are now a little scattered. What I have seen of them are remarkably nice people, and retain the savour of the gospel among them.
“I could not but feel a reverential regard when I saw them, on remembering that their forefathers were cruelly persecuted for the gospel’s sake.
“I trust you will have received a letter from Robert, dated the 31st ultimo, at the Hex River. Since that time we have been in a perfect desert called the Karroo, and in the last ten days never saw but one house till last night, about two hours’ ride from here. For eight of those days we have been on the banks of the Gamka River. The principal features of the desert through which we have passed are its mountains and rivers. The banks of the river are thick with the longthorned mimosa, which is certainly very beautiful. In some places I have seen the old tree fallen with age, and from the root a young flourishing large tree, and both attached to each other. There are few other things except succulent plants, and everything in the desert, except the mimosas, has a blue and yellow sickly hue with the saltpetre. We have scarcely seen any grass for a fortnight. Mr. C. remarked that we had need put on our spectacles to look for a blade of it. The water is a little brack, but not much. The roads have been very good indeed — in many parts as fine as any turnpike-road in England. It is a very public road; we have met with a great number of waggons from Sneeuwberg and other parts of the interior. Amongst others we met poor Pienaar, the son of the man whom Afrikaner murdered. M. told him that he was restored to favour and had been at the Cape, but he said very little. Meeting with so many Boers on the way affords a fine opportunity of distributing tracts, with which they seemed well pleased, for they seldom see a book, except their old, massy, finely-gilt family Bibles, kept more as a piece of furniture than for use. I think I never saw so many fir.e-looking Bibles in my life as since I came to Africa. They seem to have a particular pride in them.
“Some persons thought it imprudent of us to travel at this season of the year; but from all we see and hear, we think it by far the best, notwithstanding the heat, for the rivers we have to cross are at present chiefly without water, except a little stream the same as your river in summer; but the beds of them in some places are very broad, and we might have to stop a fortnight together on the banks till the water was gone, and then the ground is like a quagmire.
“We have seen no beasts of prey, though we have been in their dominions. M. saw the footmarks of one about a mile from where we outspanned one day; and at the farmhouse we saw last week we were informed that sixty lions had been killed in six years in that neighbourhood. At that farm we saw two tame ostriches, which to our great surprise devoured pebble-stones like bread. It is said they will eat iron or any hard substance. I have seen these huge uncomelylooking birds at a distance running on the mountains, and have often walked in their footsteps,
“Thus you see the promises have been fulfilled in our experience. The sun has not smitten us by day, nor the moon by night, and the beasts of the field have been in league with us. Our God has been our sun and our shield, and the shadow of a great rock in a weary land. We all enjoy excellent spirits, and all our company is cheerful and pleasant, and everything goes on well.
“We have got two men and bctwi.xt twenty and thirty oxen from
Bethelsdorp. They are just arrived after a month’s journey, but they came very slowly. The oxen are what they left there on the last iourney.
“The place where we now are is the newly-formed district where our missionary Taylor has accepted of a church — which, by-the-bye, is only a room in a farmhouse, with two beds in it. I have been in many odd-looking places of worship, but never saw one like that. There are only about six houses in the place, and the Landdrost’s is one of them. He is a Scotchman, a Mr. Baird. He visited our tent on our arrival here, and courteously invited us to his house to eat, which we have done now for four days. We go to every meal, and and then return to the waggons. He is remarkably friendly, and afford* every facility for getting what we want. He supplies us plentifully with delicious fruit from his garden, though we eat it three times a day at his house. He speaks well of Mr. Taylor, and says that a minister is a needful auxiliary to the magistrate here.
“He showed us a plan of the intended town. It is a fine fertile spot, bounded on one side by the Gamka, and on the other by the dry river. He intends to bring the water down the main street, and to have trees planted on both sides. They are going to build a shed for a temporary church until they get the other built. From all that we can see and hear, it appears that Mr. Taylor may have great opportunities of doing good. They have the law and the prophets, but they are as ignorant as the heathen themselves. They are very much scattered. Mr. Taylor is now visiting his flock, which I hear will be a month’s journey; they live so very remote. This is a disappointment to our people, as they expected to have got much information from him.
“Mr. Anderson is well spoken of here. The Landdrost is sending him by us a little coffee and sugar as a present. There is a half-yearly fair established here, and the people at Griqua Town bring their stuff to sell, and are highly spoken of. We leave this place to-day for Griqua Town, which is ten days’ comfortable journey from here, good roads, plenty of water the most of the way, and a fine moon, which is valuable to African travellers.
“Mary Moffat.”
Though on their way to Lattakoo, it was by no means certain that they would be allowed to remain there. In a letter to his parents Robert Moffat explains this:
“I think I mentioned in my former letter that we were preparing to go and reside at Lattakoo, expecting to be accompanied by Mr. Campbell. It pleased the Lord, however, at first to allow these our expectations to be baffled, for when we were almost ready to set off the Colonial Government sent a negative to a memorial on the subject. Their political, though very inapplicable views, served them as a sufficient reason to hinder me. I may here remark that the Governor has been for this some time imperious on me to become their missionary, and proceed to Kafirland, and had I consented to this they would have jumped at me; but because I would not agree to their proposal for conscience’ sake, however encouraging their offers were, they seemed to make a necessity of my accepting it by barring my prospects. This threw us into a little confusion, for Mr. Campbell was determined to go, and that was deemed by others both imprudent and impracticable without I were to go with him; and to undertake such a long journey in the heat of the season without a hope of remaining, appeared to have its difficulties, considering my situation. We, however (I trust divinely directed), have come to a conclusion that I should accompany Mr. Campbell in the place of Dr. Philip, who should remain at the Cape to set to right other important affairs relating to the missions with the Government. Of course prudence and advice dictated to me the propriety of taking Mrs. Moffat with me on the journey. In many respects it was preferable to her remaining in Cape Town, it being much healthier in the country, and there is after all, I may say, a probability of our remaining at Lattakoo. We accordingly left the Cape about a month ago, and travelled by Stellenbosch, the Paarl, and Tulbagh. We are now near the limits of the Colony opposite to Griqua Town. It has been very warm, the thermometer as high as 96° in the shade j this and a constant sunshine tans us all like gipsies.
“It is astonishing that you are at this time shivering in the beams of the same sun which drives us to take refuge to the shadow of a rock or bush. We have had a tolerable supply of water, though we have travelled through a country the most desert. I am happy to say that Mary stands the journey amazingly well; she takes everything as she finds it, and encounters with ease what you would term difficulties. She has several times asserted that she never enjoyed better health than she has done since she came to Africa. Nay, I am sometimes astonished to see her possessed of such good spirits at times when human nature is spent, for we have our hardships.
“Mr. Baird’s kindness is astonishing. As we are complete strangers to this part of the country, he has provided us with two guides, who will cross the Bushman country with us. We intend to depart to-day. And what is very wonderful, a few people have arrived from Bethelsdorp whom we sent for previous to our leaving the Cape. Had they been a day later we should have been gone. All things seem to work together for the furtherance of the journey.”