01 Early Years
Chapter 1
EARLY YEARS
GWEN ELEN THOMAS was born in London, and resided in the metropolis until the call of Africa drew her across the sea. She never lived in Wales, save during brief holiday visits, yet the Principality had its rights in her character and career, and a cherished place in her natural affection. Her father was a Welshman, and her husband was a Welshman. All her life long the beauty of the western hills glimmered through the dear home talk; she was passing happy in her occasional holiday sojourns among them; and often, when spent by labor in the torrid heat of Africa, longed for wings which might bear her away to some bracing mountain height in Wales. Her father, George Thomas, was born at Maentwrog, to fair-seeming prospects; but his sky was soon overclouded by dire bereavement, and his life was much acquainted with adversity and disappointment. His father, Griffith Thomas of Maentwrog, early held a good position as " Crown Agent for the Woods and Forests of North Wales," and married a woman whom he loved with intense devotion. Several children were born of the marriage, but at the birth of the youngest the mother died. Two years later her husband was laid beside her in the grave. It was commonly affirmed that the death of his wife shattered him, and that he died of a broken heart. The heads of this plaintive little story are inscribed, with customary brevity, upon a tombstone in the graveyard of the church at Maentwrog, and read as follows: —
" To the memory of Jane, wife of Griffith Thomas of Maentwrog, Gent. She departed this life on the 21st day of September, 1811, aged 37 years. Also of the above-named Griffith Thomas, died on the 10th day of September, 1813, aged 34 years." The young orphaned children were taken charge of by relatives, and George was brought up by his grandmother. At the age of eighteen, or thereabouts, he came to London to seek his fortune, and obtained a position in Finchams’ Tea Warehouse at Charing Cross. Some years later he met a young lady, Anne Clarke, at an evening party and resolved, precipitately, that if he ever married, she should be his wife. His affection was subjected to the test of time. Three years elapsed before he secured an engagement, and four more ere he carried off his bride.
Anne Clarke was the daughter of George Rix Clarke, a Suffolk man, who wrote a history of Ipswich, which is still esteemed by antiquarians and topographers. In middle life he married a Scottish girl of seventeen, and Anne, their first child, was born at her mother’s home in Edinburgh. The china bowl used at her christening is a treasured possession of the family.
Four children were born to George and Anne Thomas, of whom Gwen Elen was the third. At the date of her birth, January 28, 1853, her parents were residing at Albion Grove, Barnsbury, in comfortable circumstances. They had previously become associated with the Baptist Church worshiping at Providence Hall (now Cross Street), Islington, under the pastorate of the Rev. John Jenkyn Brown, who was subsequently well known to the Nonconformist world as "John Jenkyn Brown of Birmingham," and who in 1882 was President of the Baptist Union of Great Britain and Ireland. Mrs. Thomas was received into the fellowship of the Church at Islington. Her husband, though a man of pronounced evangelical conviction, was restrained by invincible compunction from ever assuming the responsibility of Church membership. None the less, a warm friendship subsisted between him and his minister, which was maintained through all the changes of following life. When he died, his daughter, Gwen Elen, looked to Mr. Brown with filial affection which was warmly answered, and it is significant that upon the occasion of her marriage, he came from Birmingham to London to fulfill the paternal office of giving the bride away.
While Gwen Elen was still in early childhood the family fortunes sustained a severe reverse. Her father, who was in business as a Scotch agent, was the victim of a fraudulent transaction, and the loss entailed was so heavy that his business was ruined. There followed years of struggle and vicissitude. During part of this period the family resided at Fulham, but before Gwen had emerged from childhood, they returned to the north of London and became connected with the Baptist Church at Camden Road.
One suggestive glimpse of her child-life comes down to us. Gwen and her younger brother Herbert, who were great chums, used to sit together, under the dining-room table, reading stories of Moffat and Livingstone. Years afterwards, when they were both still quite young, and the missionary interest at Camden Road Church had become acute, Herbert said one day to his sister, touched surely by the spirit of prophecy: " Gwen, you had better marry one of these missionaries, and I will come out and be your lay-helper." The forecast was only realized in part. Gwen did marry a missionary, but before that came to pass, at the early age of nineteen, Herbert died. In these days the Church at Camden Road was a strong and flourishing community, and by way of becoming yet wealthier and more influential. The sanctuary was erected in 1854 by the Metropolitan Chapel Building Association, and at first stood in the fields. But the tide of building soon swept beyond it, and the surrounding district became the kind of suburb in which a Nonconformist Church enjoys conditions favorable to success. In 1857 the congregation invited the Rev. Francis Tucker, B.A., of Union Chapel, Manchester, to become its minister. He accepted the invitation, formed a Church, and commenced a period of service honorably and successfully maintained for twenty-seven years. Mr. Tucker was a man of winning personality and sympathetic manners. As a preacher he possessed commanding advantages; his musical voice was managed with consummate skill; he was master of refined, poetic diction, was gifted with imagination, and swayed withal by fervent evangelical conviction. Moreover, having held for a short period a missionary pastorate in Calcutta, his interest in the foreign work of the Church was enlightened and intense. As a child Gwen Thomas passed under the influence of this estimable man, an influence which waxed but never waned until the day of his death. It is touching to recall that upon one occasion when she was recovering from a severe attack of fever at the Cameroons, and tormented by insomnia, her restless mind was haunted by the thought that if only Mr. Tucker could come and read to her she would be hushed to sleep.
While yet a girl her heart was given to Christ, in surrender which knew no recall, and at the age of eighteen she was baptized by her beloved minister and welcomed into the fellowship of the Church. It was at this time, or perhaps a little earlier, that she became a teacher in the Sunday School, which she had attended as a scholar for several years. Owing to circumstances, her secular schooling had been somewhat irregular, but she was fortunate in its finishing stage. It was the day of " Private Schools for Young Ladies," now almost obsolete, and one of the best establishments of this order was conducted in Hilldrop Road by the Misses Hewitt. The school was distant from Camden Road Church less than a hundred yards, the principals were members of the Church, and were women of high character and adequate attainments. Their school was held in great repute in the district, and their influence was a social factor of happy moment. That the Misses Hewitt were able to command the esteem and affection of their pupils is pleasantly evidenced by the fact that, though the school has been discontinued for years, " The Hilldrop Old Girls’ Club" still exists, and it will interest readers of this book to be informed that the last annual issue of The Hilldrop Magazine, the organ of the club, contained an " In Memoriam " article on Gwen Elen Lewis. To the pages of this magazine she was an occasional contributor. At the age of nearly sixteen she entered the Hilldrop school, and for about a year enjoyed advantages which greatly improved her equipment for the battle of life. Like many of her fellow pupils, she became warmly attached to her teachers, and the ensuing friendship was only broken by her death. I am happily indebted to Miss Amy Hewitt for the following paragraphs. Confessedly unable to supply incidents, Miss Hewitt has conveyed impressions which are as vivid as they are helpful: —
" It is many years since she was a school girl, and the lapse of time has naturally robbed my memory of all but the most startling individual happenings in our professional experience. Moreover, Mrs. Lewis was not the sort of girl to make dramatic school history. High souled, law abiding, and very conscientious, loving knowledge for its own sake, and eager to make the most of her advantages, she was an ideal scholar.
"Coming into an atmosphere thoroughly congenial to her temperament, she settled happily at once, and though she has since said that the influence of the few months spent as a daily pupil at Hilldrop Road was amongst the most permanently formative of her life, there was nothing at the time to distinguish her from a set of like minded young girls who were her companions, and some of whom became her life-long friends.
" Though I have no definite facts to communicate, my impressions of her personality and character remain undimmed. I remember that as Gwen Elen Thomas she entered our school on October 12, 1868, a short, plump, fair, blue-eyed girl of sixteen, whose slight guttural accent, even without the additional hint of her Welsh name, would have suggested her nationality. Her bearing was self-contained but alert. She was there— her individuality well developed; and she was there, with all her faculties alive to receive and to give out influence. That was the first superficial impression.
" Later on we became familiar with, and learned to love, the serious, intent face, the steady penetrating glance, and the quick sense of humor, which on the slightest provocation lighted up her countenance with fun, and moved her to hearty laughter. She was keenly interested in her studies and brought to bear on them strong intelligence and powers unusually mature for her age.
" Monsieur de Lamartiniere was at that time our French master, and Gwen Elen greatly delighted in his lessons. She had been thoroughly well grounded in the language, and so was prepared to profit by advanced lessons; and she made very rapid progress.
" Gifted and eager, she never seemed to find any subject dull or distasteful, but, as was natural to one of her sympathetic and deeply religious character, History, Literature, and Scripture particularly, attracted her and brought her original mind into play.
"The splendid endowments of heart and head which made her so good a pupil were given unstintingly to her missionary work, and it was with great delight that we heard from time to time of her wonderful success in Africa."
One of her fellow scholars at the Hilldrop School was Emily Smith, daughter of Mr. Jonas Smith, a deacon of Camden Road Church, and between these two girls there grew up a warm and helpful friendship. They prepared their lessons together, and entered with girlish ardor into each other’s interests. In course of time Gwen Thomas became a frequent visitor at her friend’s home. And that it was a genial, hospitable home, there are not a few who could bear grateful witness. When her own mother died, the Smiths loved her the more for her sorrow, and for the filial devotion she had displayed; and how the friendship was maintained, and how Annie Smith a younger daughter followed her into the mission -field, will appear as this story proceeds. And now something must be said of a man whose influence upon the life of Miss Thomas was not less than that of her minister, though he was her senior by a few months only. Thomas J. Comber was a member of the Baptist Church at Denmark Place, Camberwell, of which Dr. Charles Stanford, of gracious memory, was the gifted honored minister. The love of Christ and the passionate desire to be a missionary of the Cross came to Comber in his early youth. While yet a lad, he became a Sunday-school teacher at Denmark Place, and was barely nineteen when he entered Regent’s Park College to gain equipment for his ordained career.
It is more than a convenient Sabbath day’s journey from Regent’s Park to Denmark Place, and so it fell out that in his student days Comber became a frequent worshiper at Camden Road. He loved children, was keen for any kind of Christian service, and soon found an opening in the Sunday morning infant class. It occurs to me to remark, in passing, that he is the only theological student of my remembrance who ever found himself effectually called to this modest sphere of labor. And I am tempted to add that if there be aught of disparagement in this reflection, it is not of the sphere. His increasing interest in Camden Road Sunday School, and his zeal for the spiritual welfare of the scholars, led him to request permission to conduct a week-evening children’s service. Camden Road Church has always been reasonably conservative, and the proposed innovation was not acceded to without demur. But Comber, thus early, was not a man to be deterred from treading any path which seemed to him the path of duty, because certain excellent people might be in doubt of its expediency. Hesitating, dubious folk are apt to draw aside when one appears who will not be denied, and Comber had his way. The service was instituted, and spiritual forces generated by its means are working to-day. The early hour of the children’s meeting made it difficult for young men to attend, and Comber’s helpers were at first exclusively drawn from the teachers on the girls’ side of the school; and now and then he was twitted by the remark that all his lieutenants were girls. But he was too much in earnest to be perturbed by a gentle gibe, and in the course of a few years the pleasantry would seem a feeble thing, in relation to a man who had proved himself, under heroic conditions, to be a resolute, virile, and resourceful leader of men.
Meanwhile if his lieutenants were girls they were of the right mettle, believed in him implicitly, admired him profoundly, backed him bravely in his Christian endeavors, and were destined to remain his warm friends as long as he lived. Gwen Elen Thomas was one of them, and among others associated with her in this service were Miss Emily Smith, Miss Rosa Nodes, who played the harmonium, and Miss Emily Pewtress, daughter of Mr. Stephen Pewtress, deacon and secretary of the Church.
Comber believed profoundly in child conversion. He set himself to bring about early and intelligent decision for Christ, and his purpose was honored of God. There were many such decisions, and in course of time there was a goodly list of children who simply but credibly affirmed their personal faith in Christ. These Comber wisely accounted babes in Christ, who needed nursing, and as many of them were girls, some, fourteen or fifteen years of age, he concluded that their own teachers were fitter for the business than himself. So he called his four lieutenants together and informed them that these young converts must be divided up into classes, of which they must take charge. In the course of his instructions concerning procedure, he said that each little meeting must be commenced with prayer. They were dismayed. No one of them had ever engaged in prayer with a human audience; the thing could not be done. Practical and gently autocratic, he bade them meet together and make their first attempts among themselves. They were obedient, and the work went on according to the leader’s plans.
Though Comber did very well with his young women helpers, it was all joy to him when one of the teachers from the other side of the school joined him, and shared his labours in the conduct of the services. Of John Hartland, now entering the story of Miss Thomas’s life, much will be written in the next chapter. Suffice it to say at this point that he stood beside Comber in his work among the children at Camden Road, conducted it after Comber had sailed for the Cameroons, joined him later on the Congo, and died in his arms, having won from him a love as deep and tender as that he gave him.
Comber now had a man lieutenant, and had need of him. For though the majority of his weekly audience may have been girls, there were always boys present, and of the importance of his work among the boys the following letter from Mr. S. Leslie Pewtress yields convincing and beautiful evidence: —
"My remembrances of these services for children conducted by Mr. Comber at Camden Road are very hallowed ones. I was quite a lad, but can distinctly recollect how the talk in our home ran that he was a very brave young student to attempt them, and very persevering to get permission to hold them, in spite of much opposition and cold water.
" There was no Band of Hope then. For children there were occasional magic lanterns, annual Sunday-school meetings, and a composition and an elocution class for young fellows — also a singing class. But Mr. Comber’s meetings were so different from all these. I felt as I entered the room that there was a holy purpose in it all. Coming, as Mr. Comber did, from outside, having no relatives or friends in the place, he seemed to me a direct messenger from God. I had a strange awe of him that he dared speak as he did, and yet I rejoiced that he could. I wish I could recall the hymns we sang. They seemed very special at the time I know.
" Mr. Comber made a practice of standing at the door and saying goodbye to us as we went out. I tried to avoid him if I could, and being one of the bigger lads he let me pass many times. One night, however, he took my hand somewhat diffidently, and as he said good-night, added, ’ Do you love the Lord Jesus? ’ I was quite dumb with emotion. I can feel the appealing look with which I lifted my eyes to his face and met his kindly loving eyes, even now. Then I broke away and hurried home to my bedside, where, on my knees, the tears streaming down my cheeks, and in utter silence, my heart poured itself out to God in longing desire to be a better boy. It was my first conversion, the first yielding of heart and will to God I ever made.
" Mr. Comber never knew. He said no word to me at later meetings. What he thought of my rudeness and coldness I do not know. I fear I hurt him a little, but he never resented it. His later work, especially as a missionary, was always shaming me to myself, while he has always been to me the ideal Christian young man, and hero. But when I look at his photograph it is always to the children’s services that my thoughts are carried back." The writer of this letter, who, to my personal knowledge, has been for five-and-twenty years a cultured, devoted, and successful Christian worker among children and young people, would probably be in agreement with one of Comber’s four helpers, already named, who recently told me that he was unquestionably one of the strongest personal, spiritual forces she had ever encountered in a lifetime of Christian service. That this man exercised a formative and dominant influence upon the life of Miss Thomas, during the years of their association, is a statement that needs no other proof than that afforded by the facts, that she began her missionary career in his tracks upon the Cameroons; spent three-and-twenty years of her life in the great Congo field, which he and Grenfell opened up for the Baptist Mission; and, as long as she lived, continued to speak of him with reverent affection. In certain regards Comber and Miss Thomas were greatly unlike in temperament, yet had they much in common of gravest moment. The love of Christ was the grand passion of both their lives. They were both endowed with indomitable will and the consequent capacity for sustained industry. They both loved and understood children, possessed the saving grace of humor, and, devoutness notwithstanding, took innocent and wholesome delight in fun.
I met Comber several times during his last furlough, but my visual remembrances of him are restricted to two living pictures, typical and contrasting, which I will endeavor to call up before the mind of the reader. A children’s party is in course at the house of Mr. Jonas Smith. The company is gathered in the drawing-room, and consists of twenty or thirty children of varying ages, with a sprinkling of benevolent elders. Comber is at the piano, singing, to his own accompaniment, a humorous song. The accompaniment is mimetic as well as musical. Every feature of his mobile face, roguishly turned to his audience, and every muscle of his lissom body, seem to move in concert with the fun. When it is over and he is about to leave the instrument, he is stormed by overwhelming numbers, held to his place, and coaxed and coerced into singing again. Three months later I find myself sitting in the area of Exeter Hall. This time it is not a children’s party which is in course, but the Annual Meeting of the Baptist Missionary Society. The Hall is crowded in every part, and in the middle of the platform stands a young man, with a keen, clean-shaven, boyish-looking face. The great hushed throng is mastered by the speaker, who is none other than the singer of the laughing song. He does the storming this time, and he has his way with the hearts of his audience. There have been heavy losses on the Congo. Counsels of retreat have been urged. What has Thomas Comber to say about it? He has the right to speak. He is a lonely man. His young bride has lain for years in a Congo grave, and the Congo grave of his brother, Dr. Sidney Comber, is newly made. Yes, surely he has the right to speak! What has he to say? Even now after four-and-twenty years I can see the flame of passion kindling in his face as he pleads that he and his brethren may be spared the shame, and the cause of Christ the wrong, which would be involved in retreat. Would they bid Grenfell back, whose exploits he praises and whose gallant words he quotes? It is unthinkable. That speech made history. Counsels of retreat died into silence. " Forward," not " Backward," became the order of the day.
Such are my two distinct remembrances of the man, whom the children at Camden Road loved as a teacher, admired as a hero, and romped with as a playmate; whom the Congo natives, when they came to know him, regarded as a miracle of love and power; and whom his comrades followed as a captain whose belt has been buckled by the fingers of Almighty God.
During the years of Comber’s memorable service at Camden Road, Miss Thomas lived at home with her parents. Her mother was a woman of gentle, retiring disposition, who permitted herself to be absorbed by domestic interests, and was remarkable for an inexhaustible patience, which her daughter Gwen inherited, to the great advantage of her own soul, her comrades, and her work. Mr. Thomas was a man of keen intellect and independent outlook, who was wont to talk freely with his children about books and men and movements of the day, and whose conversation was an educative influence of major importance. On Christmas Eve, 1876, Miss Thomas sustained one of the great bereavements of her life, in the passing away of her mother, long an invalid, to whom her filial attention had been unremitting. Three months earlier, in September of the same year, she, with many others, had said "goodbye" to Thomas Comber, who sailed for the Cameroons. The Children’s Service Valedictory Meeting at Camden Road was at once sorrowful and enthusiastic. The young folk were grieved to lose their leader, but loyal enough to be glad that he was going to the great work marked out for him by God. A testimonial address, headed "Mizpah," was presented to him by John Hartland, in the name of the children who had signed it, together with a magic lantern, for which they had subscribed; and promising faithful, affectionate, and prayerful remembrance, Comber passed on his way. Of course, he continued to correspond with his young friends, and by way of augmenting their interest in his work, suggested that they should support a mission boy. The suggestion was adopted, and a scholars’ working meeting was instituted by Miss Gwen Thomas and Miss Emily Smith, to raise the necessary funds. It was a modest enterprise at the beginning. The first sale was held in a corner of the schoolroom, with goods displayed upon a single table. Later a second corner was annexed, and a second table furnished. Later still Mrs. Jonas Smith took practical interest in the undertaking, a " Ladies’ Missionary Working Party" was formed, and so on, until the whole Church became involved in the business of "The Camden Road Congo Sale," which at one period ranked as a Denominational Institution. The Annual Sale is still maintained, though in modified form, and in the course of its history has contributed to the funds of the B.M.S. some £3,000, more or less. Mrs. Lewis loved "The Congo Sale," was often occupied with its business when on furlough, had the honor of opening it more than once, when the opening had become a function, and talked of it when she lay a-dying.
Miss Alice Hartland remembers that at the early working meeting Miss Thomas used to read to the children as they sat sewing, "The Life of Robert Moffat." Naturally Robert Moffat was one of her heroes, and many years later she wrote, in a passage which I propose to quote, that Mrs. Moffat was her ideal of what a missionary’s wife should be. Happily, by the grace of God, she lived to realize her ideal, in marked degree, and to create a new one for others who may follow in her steps.
One pathetic family incident relates itself to this children’s working meeting shortly after its inception. In 1868 Miss Thomas’s elder sister, Eliza Jane, was married to Dr. Richard Percival, and some three years later accompanied him to St. Lucia, West Indies, where he had secured a medical appointment. His health failed, and after a short stay he was compelled to return. There were three children of the marriage, Ethel, Eva, and Beatrice, whose names will often appear in this book. But their father’s health was never strong, and in 1877 he was lying ill at St. Leonards. Two of the children were staying with their Aunt Gwen, and on Saturday afternoon were taken by her to the Working Meeting. While engaged in the meeting she received a telegram bidding her bring the little ones to the bedside of their dying father. They were taken immediately, and shortly afterwards he passed away.