Robert Moffat by David J. Deane

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At Cape Town Moffat also had the pleasure of welcoming his own son, the
Rev. John Moffat, who was to proceed to the Matabele as a missionary,
paid for out of Dr. Livingstone's private resources. Sir George Grey,
Her Majesty's High Commissioner, warmly encouraged the proposed plans
for extending Christianity and commerce to the interior tribes, and
arranged with Robert Moffat for establishing a postal communication with
the Zambesi _via_ Kuruman.

All arrangements having been completed the missionaries left Cape Town
on their way to Kuruman, from whence they were to proceed to their
respective stations, with the Makololo and the Matabele. Delays,
however, intervened; the Boers had attacked some of the Batlapings, and
threatened to attack the Kuruman station; the difficulties of the road
also prevented some of the party arriving with the others. At last,
however, the way was made clear, the opposition of the Boers to the
advance of the party was, through the intervention of Sir George Grey,
overcome, and on the 7th of July, 1859, the first division started for
their far distant destination. This division comprised Mr. Helmore, a
veteran who for many years had been stationed at Lekatlong, with his
wife and four children, and Mr. and Mrs. Price. There was also a native
teacher from Lekatlong, named Tabe, who determined to accompany his old
missionary, and the usual staff of native attendants. These were all to
proceed to the Makololo. The situation was a grave one. The end of the
journey was a point a thousand miles farther into the interior than any
of them had ever been, except two native servants, who had accompanied
Livingstone on a previous occasion. But they went forward in faith not
knowing what lay before them, but trusting all into the hands of Him,
without whose knowledge not even a sparrow falls to the ground.

A week later Mr. Thomas and John Moffat with their wives left; they were
speedily followed by Robert Moffat and Mr. Sykes. At Sechele's town the
two portions of this latter division were united, and thence they
journeyed onwards towards the Matabele. Disease broke out among some of
their oxen, and, on reaching the first outpost of Moselekatse's people,
a messenger was sent forward to the king explaining the state of
affairs, and proposing that the oxen of the missionaries should be left
in quarantine, and that Moselekatse should supply his own oxen to bring
the party to headquarters. This message was sent so as to avoid
connecting the advent of the Gospel among these people with that of a
pestilence among their herds of cattle; which would inevitably have
been the case had the diseased oxen proceeded onwards and infected those
belonging to the Matabele.

An answer was returned to the effect that the party were to proceed, and
that though the epidemic took effect, they should be held guiltless.

Moffat despatched a second messenger, to say that he had heard the
king's words, and in a couple of days would leave; but that he begged
the monarch to reflect on the consequences of the epidemic being
introduced among his tens of thousands of cattle, and to believe that
the mission party felt the most extreme anxiety upon the subject.

They then proceeded forward very slowly for two or three days, when they
were met by another messenger, who stated that Moselekatse was gratified
with the anxiety expressed for him and his; and that now, fully
convinced of his danger, he desired that all their oxen should return,
and that warriors were advancing to drag the mission waggons to
headquarters.

Every one started with surprise at the strange idea, but soon the
warriors came, shields, and spears, and all, also a number of oxen to be
slaughtered for food. After some war evolutions, the warriors took the
place of the draught oxen, and a start was made. There was many "a
strong pull, a long pull, and a pull all together," as the waggons
rolled onward; but after ten days' hard struggle and slow progress, it
became evident that the men sent were unequal to the task, and the
monarch, who for some unknown reason had kept his oxen back, sent them
at last to bring the waggons to his camp.

Moselekatse received his old friend with his usual cordiality; but it
soon became evident that something was wrong. All kinds of evasions and
delays met the request for a spot of ground on which to found a mission
station; days, weeks, and months passed, during which the missionaries
suffered great hardships; and at last the chief broke up his camp and
left them, without oxen to draw their waggons, saying that he would send
people to guide them to the spot where they were to settle, and at which
place he would join them later on.

His conduct seemed strange, and Moffat began to suspect that he had
repented of giving his permission for the missionaries to settle with
him. This proved to be the case; the Boer inroads, following as they had
done, in several cases, the advent of the missionaries, made him
suspicious, and the fears of himself and people having been aroused, the
question was in debate as to whether the settlement should be allowed or
not.

At last a favourable change took place, the clouds dispersed, and the
sky became clear. Oxen were sent to take the missionary waggons forward
to Inyati, there to join Moselekatse. All was settled, a spot which
looked well for a station was pointed out, each of the new-comers
pitched his tent under a tree that he had chosen, until a more solid
dwelling should be erected, and the Matabele Mission was fairly
established. This was in December, 1859.

The Mission was established, but work had only begun. The first six
months of the year 1860 were months of incessant toil to the
missionaries at Inyati. Houses had to be built, waggons repaired, and
garden ground made ready for cultivation. Early and late, Moffat was to
be found at work,--in the saw-pit, at the blacksmith's forge, or
exercising his skill at the carpenter's bench; in all ways aiding and
encouraging his younger companions. He also endeavoured to gain
Moselekatse's consent to the opening of regular communication with the
Livingstone expedition on the Zambesi _via_ Matabeleland, but the
suspicious nature of the monarch foiled this project. The isolation of
his country in this direction was so great that, although but a
comparatively short distance away, no tidings whatever could be obtained
of the other party who, under Mr. Helmore, had gone to the Makololo
tribe.

In June, 1860, Moffat felt that his work at Inyati was done. He had
spared neither labour of mind nor body in planting the Mission, and had
endured hardships at his advanced age that younger men might well have
shrunk from. The hour approached for him to bid a final farewell to
Moselekatse, and once more he drew near to the chiefs kraal, with the
purpose of speaking to him and his people, for the last time, on the
all-important themes of life, death, and eternity. The old chief was in
his large courtyard and received his missionary friend kindly. Together
they sat, side by side--the Matabele despot, whose name struck terror
even then into many native hearts, and the messenger of the Prince of
Peace, the warriors ranged themselves in a semi-circle, the women crept
as near as they could, and all listened to the last words of "Moshete."
It was a solemn service, and closed the long series of efforts which the
missionary had made to reach the hearts of Moselekatse and his people.
On the morrow he started for home, which he reached in safety, having
been absent twelve months.

Meanwhile, terrible trials had befallen the party who had started to
found the Makololo Mission. The difficulties attending their journey to
Linyanti were such as nothing but the noblest Christian principle would
have induced them to encounter, or enabled them to surmount. The chief
of these was the great scarcity of water. One of their trials is thus
described:--

"From the Zouga we travelled on pretty comfortably, till near the end of
November, when we suffered much from want of water.... For more than a
week every drop we used had to be walked for about thirty-five miles.
Mrs. Helmore's feelings may be imagined, when one afternoon, the
thermometer standing at 107 deg. in the shade, she was saving just _one
spoonful of water_ for each of the dear children for the next morning,
not thinking of taking a drop herself. Mr. Helmore, with the men, was
then away searching for water; and when he returned the next morning
with the precious fluid, we found that he had walked _full forty
miles_."

At length, after enduring innumerable difficulties and privations for
seven months, they arrived at Linyanti, the residence of the chief
Sekeletu. He refused to allow them to remove to a more healthy spot, but
proposed that they should live with him in the midst of his
fever-generating marshes, and as no better plan offered, they were
compelled to accept it. In the course of a week all were laid low with
fever. Little Henry Helmore and his sister, with the infant babe of Mr.
Price, were the first to die; then followed the heart-stricken mother,
Mrs. Helmore; six weeks later Mr. Helmore breathed his last; and the
missionary band was reduced to Mr. and Mrs. Price and the helpless
orphans. As the only means of saving their lives the survivors prepared
to depart, but now the chief threw obstacles in the way of their doing
so. Their goods were stolen, their waggon taken possession of; and upon
Mr. Price telling the chief that "if they did not let him go soon they
would have to bury him beside the others," he was simply told "that he
might as well die there as anywhere else."

Finally a few things were allowed for the journey, and the sorrowful
party started homeward, Mr. Price very ill, and his wife having lost the
use of her feet and legs.

With the scantiest possible provision they had to face a journey of
upwards of a thousand miles to Kuruman, but they set forward. Just as
they were beginning to take hope after their heavy trials, and to think
of renewed efforts for the Lord, Mrs. Price was called to her rest. "My
dear wife," wrote the sorrowing husband, "had been for a long time
utterly helpless, but we all thought she was getting better. In the
morning I found her breathing very hard. She went to sleep that night,
alas! to wake no more. I spoke to her, and tried to wake her, but it was
too late. I watched her all the morning. She became worse and worse, and
a little after mid-day her spirit took its flight to God who gave it. I
buried her the same evening under a tree--the only tree on the immense
plain of Mahabe. This is indeed a heavy stroke, but 'God is my refuge
and strength, a very present help in trouble.'"

Finally the bereaved missionary was met by Mr. and Mrs. Mackenzie, who
had started to join the Makololo Mission, and, as all turned their steps
towards Kuruman, they were rejoiced by meeting Robert Moffat, who,
having heard of the disaster, and that Mr. Price, with the remnant of
the party, were on the road, had gone out in search of them. All
returned sorrowfully to Kuruman, and the ill-fated Makololo Mission
collapsed.

Robert Moffat and his wife watched the progress of the Mission at Inyati
with the keenest interest. In it they seemed to live their early life at
Lattakoo over again. Their hearts were in the work of the missionaries
at that distant station; and, over and above the earnest desire they had
to see the work of God prosper among those uncivilised natives, was the
tie of kinship, their own flesh and blood being present in the person of
their son, John Moffat, who, with his wife, formed a portion of the
Matabele Mission. Post-bags and supplies were forwarded by every
available opportunity, and warm words of cheer and sympathy from the
aged pair at Kuruman encouraged the workers in the far distant region to
perseverance in their work for the Lord.

Kuruman served indeed as a home station to which all the interior
missionaries could look. The fact of being an interior missionary was
sufficient to secure the travel-worn stranger, or friend, a warm welcome
and good cheer for weeks together, and none entered more heartily or
with deeper sympathy into the plans and endeavours of the wayfarer, or
offered more earnest prayers on the behalf of himself and his work, than
the tried and faithful couple, Robert and Mary Moffat, who had for so
many years borne the burden and heat of the day.

In October, 1861, their daughter Bessie, who was born on board ship in
Table Bay, as they were leaving for their first visit to England,
married Mr. R. Price, whose wife died the previous year, during that
terrible journey from Linyanti, when the Makololo Mission had to be
abandoned. Thus as one fell from the ranks, another stepped forward to
take the vacant place, and carry on the glorious work for the sake of
Him who said, "Go ye into all the world, and preach the Gospel to every
creature." The Prices went for a time to Shoshong, hoping to join the
Matabele Mission, but finally laboured among the Bakwena, under the
chief Sechele.

The Kuruman station itself during this time presented a scene of
unabated activity. A revision of the New Testament was in progress, the
youngest Miss Moffat, then the only child at home, was working hard at
schools and classes, and Mr. Ashton was again at work with his old
colleague.

The year 1862 brought severe domestic bereavements to the Moffats.
During a journey to Durban, in Natal, their eldest son, Mr. Robert
Moffat, died, leaving a wife and four children. He had started to bring
them from Durban to the home he had prepared at Kuruman. He had
primarily been intended for a missionary, and had been sent to England
to be educated for that purpose, but his health failing he had to return
to South Africa, where for some time he served in the Survey Department
under Government, and afterwards became a trader. He was very highly
respected and had thoroughly gained the confidence of the natives.

A few weeks later the sad tidings reached the sorrowing parents from the
Zambesi that their eldest daughter Mary, the wife of Dr. Livingstone,
had been called to her rest. A white marble cross, near Shupanga House
on the Shire River, marks the spot where this sainted martyr to the
cause of Africa's regeneration sleeps in peace.

In the following year tidings reached Robert Moffat that William Ross
the missionary at Lekatlong, about eighty miles to the south-east, was
seriously ill. In a few hours Moffat was on his way; he arrived in time
to find his friend alive, and did all that could be done to alleviate
his suffering, but shortly after he also passed away. This mournful
event led to Mr. Ashton being transferred to Lekatlong, and for a time
the whole weight of duty at Kuruman rested on Moffat's shoulders.

Although in perils oft, Robert Moffat had never suffered thus far
personal violence from the hands of a native, but now he had a very
narrow escape from death. A young man, who for some time had been living
on the station, had shown signs of a disordered mind, and was placed
under mild restraint. Conceiving a violent personal animosity against
the missionary, he attacked him as he was returning from church, and
with a knobbed stick inflicted some terrible blows, then, frightened at
his own violence, he fled. To one with a weaker frame than Robert
Moffat's the consequences might have been very serious; as it was he
recovered, though with a heart that was sorely grieved.

In 1865, the Mission was reinforced by the arrival of the Rev. John
Brown, from England, and by John Moffat, who had returned from the
Matabele. The relaxation from the active duties of the station thus
afforded was utilised by Robert Moffat in the work of Scripture
revision, the preparation of additional hymns, and the carrying of
smaller works through the press.

Mention has been made of the marriage of their second daughter, Ann, to
Jean Fredoux, a missionary of the Paris Evangelical Society, who was
stationed at Motito, a place situated about thirty-six miles to the
north-east of Kuruman. He was a man of gentle disposition and addicted
to study. Early in March, 1866, he had started upon a tour to carry on
evangelistic work among the Barolong villages along the margin of the
Kalahari desert. While visiting one of these, a low class trader arrived
who had been guilty of atrocious conduct at Motito. The natives insisted
upon the trader going to Kuruman, where his conduct could be
investigated, and, upon his refusing to do so, prepared to take him by
force. He intrenched himself in his waggon with all his guns loaded, and
dared any one to lay hands upon him. Fredoux seeing the serious state
that matters were assuming quietly drew near to the trader's waggon, and
urged him to go peaceably to Kuruman, assuring him that the people were
determined he should go, if not peaceably, then by force.

While thus pleading with this man, a fearful explosion took place, the
waggon and its occupant were blown to atoms, Jean Fredoux and twelve
natives were killed, and about thirty more were injured.

This was a further heavy affliction for Robert Moffat and his wife. As
soon as they heard of the catastrophe, Robert hastened to succour his
widowed daughter, and to consign to the grave at Motito the shattered
remains of his son-in-law.

A few months later another visit was paid to the open grave, this time
to consign to its last resting place the body of Mrs. Brown, the wife of
the Rev. John Brown, who a short time before had taken up his abode at
the Kuruman as a colleague of Robert Moffat.

In 1868 the missionary staff at that station consisted of Robert Moffat
and his son John Moffat. The former had now more than completed the
three-score years and ten allotted to man as the duration of human life,
and unlike the great leader of God's chosen people, of whom it is said,
"his eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated," Robert Moffat felt
the infirmities of age creeping very rapidly upon him. Yet he held on
his way for two years longer. A short and constant cough during the
winter months aggravated his natural tendency to sleeplessness, and at
last he felt himself reluctantly compelled to accept the invitation of
the Directors to return finally to England.

Going home to England it could hardly be called, his home was with his
loved Bechwanas, with those for whom he had toiled and prayed so long.
The ashes of his son Robert, and of his devoted daughter Mary reposed
beneath the sands of Africa; his early and later manhood had been spent
beneath its scorching sun. The house he was to leave had been the
birthplace of most of his children, and his home for more than forty
years. Yes, it was hard to leave; and the expectation had become very
real to him that his body and that of his faithful partner would be laid
side by side in that little burial-ground in the bushy dell, marked by a
few trees, at Kuruman. But the final determination had been arrived at,
and with slow and hesitating steps, as though waiting for something,
even then, to prevent their departure, preparations were made for
leaving the station for ever.

Of the general aspect of affairs at the Kuruman during these last two
years we have a graphic description from the pen of the Rev. John
Moffat, who in a letter to the Directors dated 12th October, 1868, wrote
as follows:--

"The public services on the station are a prayer-meeting at sunrise on
Sunday; preaching in Sechwana, morning, afternoon, and evening, with the
Sunday school twice, and a juvenile afternoon service. The early
prayer-meeting is left entirely to the natives, the three preaching
services entirely to the missionaries, and the Sunday school, with the
juvenile service, to my sister. There is also a Wednesday evening
service, a monthly missionary prayer meeting, a church meeting, and a
prayer meeting on Thursday afternoon. This last is in the hands of the
natives. No native takes any part in the preaching on the station,
except in extreme cases, when it is regarded as a makeshift. My father
and I share the preaching between us. Occasionally, say once in three
weeks, one of us rides to two villages to the north-west, holding
services at each; they are respectively eight and twelve miles distant.
My custom at home, in the regular way, is to give New Testament reading
in the morning, a topical sermon in the afternoon, and Old Testament
exposition in the evening. On Monday evening I have a young men's Bible
class, which is to me the most interesting work I have to do, more
especially as I have much encouragement in it.... On the Monday evening,
also, my sister and I hold a practising class for the purpose of trying
to improve the singing. On Tuesday evening I meet male inquirers, on
Wednesday, before the service, I have a Bible class for women, on
Thursday we have an English prayer meeting, and on Friday evening I meet
female inquirers. I need not mention the school conducted by my sister
and three native assistants."

Speaking of the place and people he continues:--

"The population is small and scattered. On the spot there must be a good
many people, and also at the villages to the north-west; but otherwise
the district contains only small villages of from twenty to one hundred
huts. It extends fifty miles west and north-west, and about twenty-five
miles in other directions.

"The people are poor and must remain so. The country is essentially dry.
Irrigation is necessary for successful agriculture, and there are few
spots where water flows. There is no market for cattle, even if they
throve abundantly, which they do not. I despair of much advance in
civilisation, when their resources are so small, and when the European
trade is on the principle of enormous profits and losses. Two hundred
per cent, on Port Elizabeth prices is not considered out of the way.

[Illustration: MAIN STREET IN PORT ELIZABETH.]

"Heathenism, as a system, is weak, indeed in many places it is nowhere.
Christianity meets with little opposition. The people generally are
prodigious Bible readers, church-goers, and psalm-singers, I fear to a
large extent without knowledge. Religion to them consists in the above
operations, and in giving a sum to the Auxiliary. I am speaking of the
generality, There are many whom I cannot but feel to be Christians, but
dimly. This can hardly be the result of low mental power alone. The
Bechwanas show considerable acuteness when circumstances call it out.

"The educational department of the Mission has been kept in the
background. On this station the youth on leaving school have sunk back
for want of a continued course being opened to them. The village
schoolmasters, uneducated themselves, and mostly unpaid, make but a
feeble impression. The wonder is that they do so much, and where the
readers come from. It is hard to say that the older missionaries could
have done otherwise.... I cannot tell you how one thing presses on me
every day: the want of qualified native schoolmasters and teachers; and
the question: how are they to be obtained?"

On Sunday, 20th March, 1870, Robert Moffat preached for the last time in
the Kuruman church, and on the Friday following the departure took
place. "Ramary" and "Mamary," as Mr. and Mrs. Moffat were called, had
completely won the hearts of the natives. For weeks past messages of
farewell had been coming from the more distant towns and villages, and
now that the final hour had arrived and the venerable missionary, with
his long white beard, and his equally revered wife, left their house and
walked to their waggon they were beset by crowds of people, each one
longing for another shake of the hand, a last parting word, or a final
look; and, as the waggon drove away, a long pitiful wail rose from those
who felt that their teacher and friend was with them no more.

After a rough but safe journey of eight weeks, Robert and Mary Moffat
reached Port Elizabeth on the 20th May, 1870, and received a hearty
welcome from a large number of missionaries and other Christian friends,
who had gathered to meet them. Making a brief stay they embarked in the
mail steamer _Roman_ and landed at Cape Town on the 2nd of June. Here
they were entertained by the Christian community at a public breakfast.
A few days later they embarked in the steamship _Norseman, en route_ for
England.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER X.

CLOSING SCENES.

In the Chronicle of the London Missionary Society for March, 1870, the
following notice appeared: "Our readers will be glad to hear that there
is now a definite prospect of welcoming again to England our veteran
missionary, the Rev. Robert Moffat. He may be expected, with Mrs.
Moffat, about the month of June. Mr. Moffat no longer enjoys his former
robust health. In his last letter he writes: 'What to me was formerly a
molehill is now a mountain, and we both have for some time past begun to
feel some of the labour and sorrow so frequently experienced by those
who have passed their three-score years and ten.'"

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