07 Second Term at San Salvadore
Chapter 7 SECOND TERM AT SAN SALVADOR
MR. LEWIS gathered strength during the voyage. Upon arrival in England he was pronounced " much better " and Mrs. Lewis " very well." A visit to the Parkinsons at Deal and a stay with the Hartlands at Aberystwyth yielded much pleasure to all concerned and went far toward restoring Mr. Lewis to customary vigour. Toward the end of November Mrs. Lewis is busy with her old friends at Camden Road preparing for the Congo Sale and records with evident delight a surprise visit at the schoolroom by Grenfell, who had arrived in England two days earlier. On November 25th the Sale was opened by Mrs. Lewis, Mr. Baynes, the Secretary of the B.M.S., and the Rev. William Brock, of Hampstead, being among her supporters. She spoke in calm, simple, restrained, but intense fashion of her work among the women of San Salvador, and held a large audience in closest and most sympathetic attention. And here I may remark — and the judgment is based not upon this speech only, but also upon many others heard in later years and more fully remembered — never was there a missionary speaker who more conscientiously avoided excessive use of bright colouring in pictures of missionary success. Her nature was passionately truthful, and she ever sought as far as possible to make her audiences see things as they really were. As far as possible, I say, for her saddened eyes saw much which her woman’s lips could never speak, and this she allowed her friends to understand. In the New Year Mr. Lewis was sent north, south, east, and west on deputation journeys, but Mrs. Lewis’s work was largely confined to the London district, in which she attended many meetings advocating the cause to which her life was given. Once she started at an hour’s notice for Newport, Mon., and spoke at an evening meeting the same day, " with Tom and Mr. Evans, of Merthyr." As much as possible of her time was given to her " dear mother," Mrs. Hartland, who was at this time a confirmed invalid and subject to the discipline of much suffering, which she endured with exemplary Christian patience and submission.
It is interesting to me, as it will be to many readers, to gather from the diary that Grenfell was a frequent visitor at the rooms of Mr. and Mrs. Lewis. The entry for Saturday, March 21st, surprised me. "Mr. Grenfell and Mr. Hawker called." The eclecticism of memory is one of the mysteries of life. Incidents of no moment and little interest are retained with photographic clearness, other incidents which it would be precious to recall pass utterly out of mind. Clearly upon this day I must have spent some time — probably an hour, perhaps more — in conversation with two people whom I regarded with affectionate esteem and whose lives I was destined to write long years afterwards. Yet I confess with wonder and humiliation that the utmost effort at recollection leaves me destitute of the faintest remembrance of the fact.
Six weeks later Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were both down with influenza. The illness was somewhat serious and involved a visit to Ventnor, where lost energies were recovered. They returned to London in the middle of June, and on the day of arrival met Mrs. J. J. Brown and Messrs. Grenfell and Oram. On June 19th Mrs. Lewis records with a note of relief that she has " passed Dr. Roberts," and on the last day of the month she and her husband leave London for Liverpool amid the cheers of a company of friends who had gathered at St. Pancras for the send-off. Mrs. Parkinson accompanied them to Liverpool, where Mr. Parkinson joined them later. On Wednesday, July 1st, the little party spent the day at Southport. Surely it must have been a wet day, for Mrs. Lewis smites the fair town with the scornful phrase, " wretched place," and is glad to get back to Liverpool to tea. An evening entertainment in Liverpool proved as little satisfactory as Southport. Perhaps she was in no mood for entertainment. The next day she sailed upon her fourth voyage to Africa, which, though enlivened by many incidents of interest, proved on the whole the most wearisome and comfortless of her experience. On August 20th she writes: " Arrived at Banana about 7 a.m. After breakfast went ashore and called at the Dutch House. Went to see dear Annie’s grave. Tom photographed it. Rather tired." The mention of " Dear Annie’s grave " calls for a slight digression. Annie was the youngest daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Jonas Smith, of Camden Road Church, and one of Mrs. Lewis’s girl friends, whose name has already been mentioned. She became engaged to Mr. Percy Comber and went out to Africa to be married. Arriving at St. Thome on the voyage, she was overjoyed to find that the homeward-bound steamer was in port and that among her passengers were Mr. and Mrs. Lewis. There lies before me as I write her letter to Mrs. Hartland, written at the close of this happy day of meeting, telling of how her friends were brought aboard her ship and of the eager, happy converse which ensued.
They parted. The Lewises arrived safely in England. Annie Smith was married at Matadi on June 5th, and passed up to Wathen, where she worked for a few months with great joy and much promise. Toward the end of the year serious illness fell upon her, and under doctor’s orders she started for home, accompanied by her husband. But her journey ended at Banana on December 19th. She was laid to rest beside the sea, and her stricken husband turned back to his work — alone. The sorrow at Camden Road was great. She had gone from us such a little while before, so full of radiant life, so joyous in her consecration to the great cause. Mrs. Lewis was present at the memorial service held in Camden Road Church on January 25, 1891, and the reader will appreciate the sorrowful interest of her visit to " dear Annie’s grave," and the intensity of her sympathy with "poor Percy, so sad and lonely." On August 28th, Mrs, Lewis writes from Tunduwa (Underhill) lamenting endless delays. The old King of San Salvador is dead, and the hoped-for carriers are detained by the prolonged obsequies of their late sovereign. She is still in Tunduwa on September 6th, but has been of service in nursing Mr. Lawson Forfeitt through an illness, whose return to England, she suggests, should be arranged speedily. Finally, on September 12th, San Salvador is reached, and the longed-for work is resumed. A fortnight later Mrs. Graham and Mrs. Phillips are on the point of leaving for England. Their husbands are to accompany them to the coast, and Mr. Graham is to remain in charge at Underhill, while Mr. Forfeitt takes his much-needed furlough.
It is not practicable, as it is not necessary, to attempt anything like a continuous story of the next two or three years. The work proceeds along the lines laid down, and the days are passed in the quiet and sometimes monotonous discharge of routine duties. San Salvador is off the main line of the Mission, and Mrs. Lewis and her friends live in a little world of their own, which occasionally seems to be very small and secluded. But the work is too constantly exacting to give time for dispiriting reflection upon its isolation, nor is it destitute of occasional excitements.
Mrs. Lewis resumed with undiminished zeal her school work and her women’s classes. Her medical and dispensary work steadily increases. There are successes which cheer and disappointments which test faith and endurance. An untoward accident interrupts the promising work at the sub-station of Btoto. Some of the " boys " become less zealous, and, like certain of their white brethren in England, yield to the seductions of worldly interest. Kivitidi resigns the office of evangelist, and occupies himself in tailoring and trading, which he finds much more remunerative. Yet he continues to live the life of a Christian man, and renders to the Mission much voluntary service. Nlekai and others involve themselves and their missionary friends in troubles and embarrassments by their matrimonial aspirations and ventures. The marriage business is still more distracting in relation to the girls. It is not to be thought of that they should not marry; they marry when they are mere children, and their babies keep them away from school at the time when they would profit most by instruction. In some instances the grandmothers take care of the babies, and set the girl-mothers free. Mrs. Lewis observes that the grandmothers are much more devoted to the babies than the mothers, and she surmises that this is due to the fact that the mothers are mere children themselves, too immature to appreciate or discharge maternal responsibilities.
1892 was the centenary year of the Baptist Missionary Society. The little Church at San Salvador, numbering thirty-nine members, resolved to make its contribution to the Centenary Fund in the form of a Christmas collection. The conditions of native life made it desirable that the gifts should be brought in as soon as they were ready. If they were stored up in the native huts they might be used or lost, so the Christmas collection began early.
Writing on New Year’s Day, Mrs. Lewis says: "Kivitidi was the first to bring his offering. Since then the people have been constantly coming, and a strange collection you would find it. Some have brought cloth, some beads, some fowls, some baskets full of ground nuts. One woman brought a keg of gunpowder, and one man — the largest contribution of all — a pig. This last offering caused much amusement. It was so difficult to catch that it seemed doubtful whether it would be ready for Christmas Day, either dead or alive. However, on the morning of Christmas Eve, it arrived dead, borne triumphantly in a hammock, and made a capital Christmas feast for all the people on the station. The people have indeed offered willingly, and have both surprised and gladdened our hearts by their generosity. On Christmas morning a large congregation met together in our chapel for a thanksgiving service, when the names of the contributors were read out, and it was announced that the total value of the collection was £33 14s. 3d. Earnest prayers were offered by some of the native Christians that God’s blessing might go with their gifts, and we closed by singing the Te Deum and the Doxology." In the same letter Mrs. Lewis tells of certain horrible cruelties perpetrated in the district in deference to native customs. Two runaway slaves were captured, tied to long poles firmly fixed in the earth, and left to starve. In returning from Tunduwa Mr. Phillips saw the charred bones of a woman who had been burned to death in a witch palaver. In a town near by a slave, for a threatening word, was put in irons, his neck made fast in the fork of a heavy stick six feet long. In this plight he had remained for twenty-one days when Mr. Lewis came upon him, while the death palaver was in process. Happily, in this instance, he was able to effect a rescue, and the man was taken to work on the Mission station. On April 28th in a long letter to her niece, Miss Ethel Percival, Mrs. Lewis tells of Nlekai beginning work in Mawunza; of the hindrance to the Mission arising from the unpopularity of the present Portuguese officials and the Catholic Mission; and then gives the following account of her garden, which is yielding Mr. Lewis recompense for his labours.
" We have lots of flowers in our garden — English ones, too — verbenas, heliotropes, petunias, and roses pink and white. We have also a quantity of maize, plantains, and bananas in our kitchen garden, splendid onions and potatoes, which will be ready shortly. Yams, too, are coming on. Limes are in abundance, and the trees are laden with oranges, which I hope will ripen in due time. This is the Vegetable dispensation. Under Mr. Graham it was the Animal dispensation, and the two do not run well together. Now our live-stock is kept within bounds, and consists of one goose, which is fattening for the table, several ducks, a few goats, a lot of pigeons, and one dear rabbit, Jack, who has a spacious yard all to himself, for his tiresome wife has run away. How she went is a mystery. Mr. Phillips also possesses a monkey, who lives in a cage, poor fellow! I forgot the fowls, whose name is legion."
"June 28th. — I don’t think I told you that since I returned this time I have started quite a midwifery practice. It came without seeking. Of course I could not do anything in this line until I could speak without an interpreter. Now I am in request at the advent of every baby. I keep a registry of births, that we may have some idea of the children’s ages. I could tell you some laughable things about habits and customs, but I cannot write them. At last, this month, we have dispensed with interpreters altogether — i.e., Tom and I. I think Mr. Phillips will also when he comes back. We have managed for some time everything except the regular services. In these we were afraid of making mistakes, which are so easy. But for three Sundays Tom has preached in the native language, and all the people say he speaks well, and that they can understand him perfectly. Last Sunday my interpreter was away, and having asked the women if they would understand me, and being reassured, I made the attempt, though I was awfully nervous. At the end one of the women kindly told me that they understood perfectly, and liked it much better. It means a lot more work, as one has to prepare the words as well as the matter of one’s sermons; and I have a Bible-class in school on Wednesday, another in the house on Thursday evening, and give an address at the women’s prayer-meeting on Saturday. Then there are the Sunday school and the women’s meeting on Sunday, and in every case the preparation must be different, as some of the audience come to all. However, we are very thankful to have got so far. It seems like beginning a new stage in our missionary work.... People in England seem to forget sometimes that I am as much interested in their work as they are in mine. It is the same work, only we are on distant service. But we do not forget the work at home, either in our thoughts or in our prayers.
"July 29th. — I do hope dear mother is not suffering very much; we so often think of her and of you all. I am thinking that perhaps tomorrow you and Mr. Hartland are setting off upon your travels. We should just like to fly over and go with you for a month to Wales. Wouldn’t it be jolly? But we are unable to get away, even for a journey here. Mr. Phillips has been away just on three months, and we are alone. We have heard nothing from Tunduwa since last mail. We suppose the carriers are afraid to come, and we cannot get away to go to him. There is a palaver proceeding in the town, and the King forbids any one to leave. One family, who are slaves of the Padres, are claiming another family as slaves of theirs, and the Padres are backing them. This same dispute was brought up and settled several times, some years ago. The whole town is in a state of commotion, and nearly every day the people assemble under the big tree. The King, got up in striking costume varied from day to day, sits on his throne with the Queen beside him. They are a pair! The disputing parties, holding their guns, are ranged opposite one another. Then the counsellors on either side sing songs, make speeches, and finish up with a dance. Of course there is also any amount of malavu drinking.
" The old road to Noki is shut up. There are other roads by which we send letters, but the carriers are all afraid to go for loads. The Portuguese talk about soldiers coming, but they are a long time on the way. The Resident told Tom the other day that they are going to make a military station half-way to keep the road open. I wish they would remove this Resident. There have been palavers ever since he came, and he does not know how to settle them. This palaver has brought many strangers to the town, and they attend our meetings, so good may come out of evil. But all these things interrupt our work. The minds of the people are unsettled, and full of other things. I have just received a new girl into the house, and she is a caution! the wildest specimen I have yet had to deal with. She is put under our protection by the Resident, and is quite grown up." The following extract from a circular letter written on September 26th gives an instructive and idyllic picture of a Congo baptism, with certain other matters suggestive of the dark background: —
" We had a very happy time at Mbanza Mputu at the end of last month. Tom and I went over on Tuesday, and stayed two nights. There were six whom we wished to baptize, the chief, his sister, three of his wives, and another man. But we found that one of the women was sick, and another away. The event caused quite an excitement in the towns around, as the chief holds a position, second only to that of the King of Congo. On the day before the baptism the women of the town were hard at work preparing to receive visitors from other places. A pig was killed, and in every house might be seen groups of women pounding pepper and skinning pumpkin seeds for seasoning the dishes on the morrow. We spent the day in speaking to inquirers, and preparing the candidates. None of these people had ever seen a baptism, so it was necessary to explain every detail to them.
" Early on Thursday morning Mr. Phillips arrived from San Salvador, our boy Vita coming with him. Soon afterwards nearly all our Church members followed. After they had rested a little we went down to the water. At the bottom of a very steep hill runs a watercourse, obstructed at one point by very large stones, forming a natural basin, into which a spring rises, so that there is water in the basin even when the course is dry, as it is now. A steep cliff almost surrounds the basin, covered with ferns and tropical growths, the branches of trees interlacing overhead. The congregation sat on the sides of this dell, which formed a splendid meeting-place, Tom standing on one of the big stones in the middle.
" The hymn sounded grandly; Kivitidi prayed; Tom explained the rite, and then baptized the candidates, beginning with Vita, of whom you will have read in the Herald. He took the first place, that the others might see what was required. He was followed by the chief, and the other man, and then came the two women, one of them very old and thin and shrivelled, the other quite a young girl. After the benediction we climbed up the hill and returned to the town, making our way to the little meeting-house, where we celebrated the Lord’s Supper. The Church members and those newly baptized half filled the house, but other people crowded in, or sat round the doors, curious to see what we were doing. Mr. Phillips presided and gave the right hand of fellowship to the five new members. Nlekai and Kalendenda offered prayer, and then after a few words of explanation from Kivitidi we ate and drank together the memorials of dying Love. We hope soon to baptize three more at least.
"Pray for these new converts that they may be kept faithful. At present things go smoothly with them. The fact that their chief is a humble Christian makes all the difference, and saves them from many trials and temptations. Only one thing marred our pleasure. Mr. Phillips brought news of a terrible calamity which had happened in San Salvador the day before. A young man who has been one of our hammock-bearers from the beginning of the Mission, Ntoni, was overtaken by one of the grass fires while hunting, and horribly burnt. Mr. Phillips did what he could, but the poor patient died in great agony the same evening, and upon our return from Mbanza Mputu the funeral took place. He had not professed faith in Christ, but he knew the gospel well, and one of our Christians, who was with him when he died, says that he spoke much about his sins and prayed for forgiveness for Jesus’ sake. We can but leave him with God, assured that He Who received the dying thief will never turn away from a dying sinner’s cry.
" So many horrid things have happened lately. The other day in a town close by, a man beat his wife to death. The chief of Mbanza Mputu has been over to the Resident about the matter, and is doing his best to find the man, who has run away. It seems that he was drunk with palm wine and had been beating his wives all the evening. The palm wine drinking has been dreadful this season, the yield has been so plentiful. We are trying to get our boys to leave off taking it altogether, but it is very difficult to teach them self-denial for the sake of others."
While she was writing this letter, news was on the way to Congo destined to fill the heart of Mrs. Lewis with heavy sorrow, sorrow which her husband would share profoundly, and in which all our Congo missionaries would have their part. Some few months earlier, in writing to Miss Hartland, Mrs. Lewis said: " I am sure we shall never cease to thank God for all the love and kindness which dear mother and you have shown to us. Having lost our own mothers, we have appreciated her love all the more.’ On September 13th, Mrs. Hartland died. Mrs. Lewis’s diary for 1892 is missing, and the letter or letters in which she poured out her own sorrow, and her sympathy with those whom the bereavement touched yet more nearly, have not come to my hand. Assured that Mrs. Lewis would desire some tribute to the " dear mother," who loved her so well, to appear in the record of her own life, I venture to reprint certain paragraphs from a short article which I wrote a few days after Mrs. Hartland had entered into rest: —
" After four years of heroic service John Hartland died in Comber’s arms, and his mother bowed her head, as mothers do. But when she rose again, it was not to regard this costly Congo Mission with reserved toleration which applauded itself for not changing to dislike, but with self-devotion and enthusiastic love. The life of her son was in the Mission; so she took it to her heart and carried it gently in her bosom before God.
" Mrs. Hartland lived as much upon the Congo as in Falkland Road, and was more intimately acquainted with the history of the Mission, internal and external, than perhaps any other person, excepting only Mr. Baynes. Almost all the missionaries knew her. Before they went out they were invited to Falkland Road, and when the interview was over they knew themselves to be possessed of at least one mother-hearted friend. Aware of the secret of her love each man and woman honoured her unspoken claim to some measure of their filial affection, and the motherless among them called her "mother." Upon returning to this country they went to see her, naturally; and while upon the field many of them corresponded with her, receiving letters which were like cold water in a thirsty land. Many times have I seen her, with hands distorted and half paralysed by relentless rheumatism, writing painfully and patiently to her friends upon the Congo. Her letters were peculiarly precious, because they were indited by one who understood the work, who loved the workers, and believed in God. And so from one quiet heart, in one quiet London home, there went forth waves of spiritual energy that were felt hundreds of miles above Stanley Pool. This was her work. She wrote till she could no longer hold the pen; she dictated till she could no longer think sustainedly by reason of agony and growing weakness; then she sent messages; then she murmured prayers; and now she is with Him Who ever liveth to make intercession for us.
"We do not know much about the gates of heaven. We do not know whether some vigilant angel on the battlements of God’s city announces with silver trumpet the coming of the enfranchised soul. We do not know whether comrades and kinsfolk hurry to the gates to welcome and congratulate their beloved. We can only dream. But if it be so, the sainted heroes of the Congo Mission were by the gates last week.
" Two things were remarkable in Mrs. Hartland’s life to all who knew her — unselfishness and faith, evinced in little things and great. A few days before her death I visited her, and. leaning over her bed that my voice might reach the ear that was growing heavy I noticed four exquisite roses lying near her face. She insisted that I should take one. In my prayer, I used the word ’ doubts,’ and I shall never forget the quick and confident words that followed the ’ Amen ’ — ’ I have no doubts.’ Verily, she has none."