LIFE AT KIBOKOLO—_continued_
“October 20th, 1902. (To Mrs. J. Jenkyn Brown.)—I expect you will be
surprised to hear from me so soon again. I want you to know of the events
which have happened during the last fortnight, which have been a great
blow to us, and, as far as we can see at present, to the work here.
“You will, I know, sympathise with us and pray that we may be guided
aright in all we do, and that good may come out of even this seeming
evil. It is so sad to think of all those poor things scattered like sheep
and wandering about in the bush during this terribly wet weather. We hear
that two have died already, and I am afraid they will not be the only
ones. Three women with their little ones have sought refuge here, and are
with us now. We have not been long enough here for the people to have the
confidence in us which they had in Congo, or no doubt there would have
been many more. All the towns about have taken a vow not to harbour the
Kibokolo people, and the soldiers are on the look-out for the men to take
prisoners. So far they have not succeeded in taking any....
“As I write, further bad news has come that three towns which were spared
have decided to go away. If so, we shall be left in the midst of a
howling wilderness. We can only wait at present and pray for guidance.”
“November 17th.—Tom is very busy building. There seems no end to building
of one kind and another. You see here, where our houses only consist of
three or four rooms, there are so many outbuildings needed to each house,
besides chapel, carpenter’s shed, blacksmith’s shed, and stores. Now he
is just going to build a dispensary. The old house which we have been
using for that and a store combined, may come down any day in a heavy
storm. Mr. Hooper’s house is going on at the same time, and with these
wonderfully industrious men I can tell you it is no joke.
“So many sad things seem to be happening everywhere. I am afraid our
dear old B.M.S. is getting into hot water over these atrocities. I do
think that the Congo State has been too much praised by some; still it is
absurd to suppose that any of our missionaries would condone brutality or
injustice. Perhaps they have been slow to believe things which they have
not seen themselves. Personally I never had any love for King Leopold or
the State. I even prefer the easy-going Portuguese.”
“February 20, 1903.—I had to leave off there the other night, so must try
to finish now. Since then the old chief of this district came the other
day, or rather sent to say that he was outside the station, and wanted
Tom to go to him, as he had ‘eaten nkisi’ not to come in. Tom sent word
that if he wanted him he must come in, as he had nothing to do with his
nkisi palavers. So he and the other men came just inside, to where our
new house is, and had a long talk; but there is no doing anything with
these people. They wanted us to guarantee that no Makela man should come
any nearer than Nkil’a nkosi’s town, and declared there would be no peace
until Nkila and Nzanza (his fellow chief) were both killed; that until
then they would not settle down, and the country would not be at rest.
“They are brimming over with revenge, and think of nothing else. A man
named Luvumbu, the chief of a little town which was burnt, called Wembo,
is now the head of all this district. He was the one who refused our
‘chop’ when all the chiefs promised us boys a long time ago when we first
settled here. He professed to be tamed as regards having dealings with
us, but the other day when Tom offered a tin of sardines each to the
three chiefs, he refused one. Nearly everybody here is related to him,
and he is the head cook in all witch palavers, so prospects are not very
bright. I am afraid there is little chance of the regular people coming
back here for a very long time. It is very disheartening, and just now we
are so tied with one thing and another. Mr. Hooper is not well, we lack
carriers, and the mules are ill, so that we cannot get about to the other
towns as we should like to do. Even the nearest towns are difficult to
reach this time of the year, as now the people do not clean the roads,
and to walk through the wet grass means a good wetting and a good chance
of fever. If the mules were well we could get to those near. Then
besides, Tom has his hands full with the new house and a brilliant lot of
workmen, who mostly do nothing if he is not there; or if they do attempt
anything it is pretty sure to have to be undone again. So you can see
what a nice hole we are in at present. I hope things will change for the
better before long, though as far as we can see they are not likely to.”
“April 18th.—Certainly everything has been so far most disappointing,
and disappointment is depressing here, for there is nothing to take
it off. As soon as the rains cease and Mr. Bowskill has got into the
station work, Tom and I hope to get out to the towns round about. We
shall not be able to go far, as Mr. Bowskill will be alone, but there are
very many towns we want to visit. We are also anxious to get some more
children on the station. Just now the chiefs are at San Salvador, and we
are anxiously awaiting their return. If they come back with everything
settled we are going to have high jinks, a big feed for them and the
station children and workmen. I think I told you J. P. and Mr. H. had a
bull and cow between them. Well, the poor bull died, after which the cow
took to wandering, and was away quite a long time. The other night she
returned. Mr. H. means to shoot her for the feed. I need not say I shall
not partake of it; but I suppose every one else will enjoy the beef. I
daresay it is the kindest thing to do, for she is very lean, and not very
happy, I should say.”
“June 3rd. (Circular letter to children.)—It seems a long time since I
wrote to you, but no doubt you have read about us in the _Herald_, and
have heard how all the towns close to our station were burnt down, so
that the poor people had to run away. Some had friends in other towns
to whom they could go, but many lived in the bush for several months,
building themselves little shelters in the tall grass, so that no one
might know where they were. A short time ago the Portuguese Governor sent
word that they might return and build their towns, and live in peace if
they would obey the laws, but the chiefs of the towns must first go to
San Salvador and obtain permission of the magistrate there. At first they
were very much frightened at the idea and did not like to go, but at last
we persuaded the chief of the biggest town, Nzamba, to venture, and when
he returned safe and sound the others consented to go also. Now it is the
dry season, and they want to begin to build. They were much astonished
at all they saw at San Salvador, and very pleased with their visit. All
this has greatly interrupted our work. A very few people could come to
listen to God’s Word on Sundays, and those in the towns around were so
frightened and restless that it was of little use our going to them.
“The witch doctors had passed a law that no children were to come to
school, so if we asked any boy to come one day, the next he had run away
and was nowhere to be found.
“Now, however, things are beginning to look brighter. When the people
said they were coming back, we called the chiefs together and told them
they must take away this law about school and allow any one to come who
wished. We also said we expected them to keep the promise they made a
long time back, to bring us some boys to live on the station so that we
might teach them good fashions. After a great deal of talk they agreed,
and a few days after came with six boys, such funny little fellows—the
eldest about eight, perhaps; but he, poor child, is an orphan and
slightly crippled, his feet being deformed. He also has a skin disease
which I hope to be able to cure in time. He has been badly neglected.
His name is Nsumbi. Next to him is Nekiana; he is about seven, and is
a bright, sharp boy, who, I think, will learn very quickly. Then comes
Ntambu, about six years old, a good-tempered, lovable little fellow, but
a little inclined to be lazy and dirty. The three others are about four
and five years of age—such little mites! At first I said they ought to
be with their mothers, but when we were told they had none we consented
to take them. Their names are Nzingula, Nzuzi, Muntu; their poor little
fingers and toes have been badly eaten by ‘jiggers,’ the nasty little
insects of which some of you have heard; but I hope soon they will be
quite well. You see they are all little, so we hope to be able to teach
them many things, and that when they know more about Jesus, they will
begin to love Him and try to please Him. They all go to school, and the
two elder ones have already learnt their A B C.
“So far I have not been able to get any Zombo girls either to school
or to live with us. There are many nice little girls about who come
sometimes for medicine, and some of them would like very much to come
into the station. A woman told me the other day that her child wanted
to come and she would like her to, but I am afraid the man to whom she
belongs will not let her. The girls here are betrothed when quite babies
to old men who have money to buy them. These men do not like them to
learn, because they are afraid if they do they will not want to be their
wives when they grow up. No doubt that would be so. However, I am in
hopes of getting my first Zombo girl in this week. The chief of Nzamba
has promised to bring me some girls, and I believe he is trying to get
them; but he owns a number of little girls and does not like to give them
up, and the other people are just the same; because in this land little
girls are articles that can be bought and sold just like pigs or goats.
It seems so sad that nice little children should be sacrificed in this
way; that is why we are so anxious to get them to school, so that when
they grow up they may know better.
“There are so many dreadful customs here which make us feel very sad, and
we know that it is only the light of the gospel of Jesus which can dispel
the darkness and give these people the desire to live differently.
“I want you all, especially those of you who love Jesus, to pray with
us for these Zombo boys and girls, that very soon a great many may come
to school, and there learn to read the Word of God and to love the dear
Saviour who died for us all.”
Toward the end of July, Mr. and Mrs. Cameron came from Wathen to spend a
few weeks at Kibokolo. This visit was especially welcome to Mrs. Lewis,
as Mrs. Cameron was one of her old Camden Road friends, and though
younger by a good many years, it is still true that she and Mrs. Lewis
were at school together. The friendship had been maintained, and the
reunion in Zombo was no small joy and refreshment to both. The visitors
made holiday, but busy holiday. The work of the Station went on, and Mr.
Cameron accompanied Mr. Lewis upon an eight days’ journey of itineration.
The interest of the happy intercourse at Kibokolo was deepened by the
arrival of Mr. Bentley before the Camerons left, and Mrs. Lewis records
her happiness in his presence and her concern for his health. Indeed,
all three of her visitors were ill and required nursing during their
stay, which was prolonged in consequence. On August 27 they all departed,
having given and received cheer.
“September 11th.—Of course we had a big day when they (Mr. and Mrs.
Bowskill) arrived; and the same week we had other visitors: the Governor
of Cabinda, the Resident from San Salvador, the Resident from Makela,
and another white man with them. The Governor seems a very nice man, and
we hope that his visit will result in good to the people. Tom told him
exactly how matters stood, and how the soldiers behaved when they came to
the towns; also how Nkil’a nkosi used the Resident’s name in terrorising
these folk. The Governor sent for Nkila, who came in style with all his
followers. He also sent for the people and chiefs of these towns and had
a long talk with them; told them that they must live in peace and that
they were to send their children to school, so that they might learn good
ways and be able to read, and that if any one came to trouble them, they
might tie him up, and send him to San Salvador and on to Cabinda. They
were all very polite and tried not to give trouble; but you can imagine I
had a busy time of it, having eight to sit down to table. They were here
one night only and two days. They looked at the ground and were supposed
to measure it, but accepted Tom’s measurements. We are very glad they
have been. Nlekai is still with us. He is to leave in a fortnight. We
shall miss him very much, he has been such a help. By that time the B.’s
will be settled in their own house and we shall be able to start work
regularly again. I hope you will see Mr. Hooper while he is at home. Is
it not a trial for poor John Pinnock, having to leave his wife at home so
soon? I am sorry for them both.”
“October 11th.—To-day we have opened the first chapel in Zomboland. Tom,
Nlekai & Co. have been hard at work for the last three weeks putting it
up, and it looks so nice. Iron walls with four windows, shutters on each
side, two doors, grass roof and a platform. On the platform to-day was
our travelling table, covered with the cloth which you and Alice gave
me when at home, I think, my harmonium, Mr. Bowskill as organist, and
the four of us. The school children were just in front. We had been busy
practising hymns, as we wanted to make it a big day as well as we could.
We sent round to all the chiefs, but without much success; only Nembamba,
the chief of Kimfuti Nkusu, arrived. Some of them say they are coming
next Sunday instead, as they had a funeral going on, but!—we shall see.
Still we had a good time. The children sang very nicely, each of us gave
a short address, and all repeated the Commandments together. The people
listened very attentively; Tom and Mr. B. both led in prayer, and we can
only hope and pray that some word may have fallen into good ground and
bring forth fruit in days and years to come.”
In February, 1904, in the course of an itineration, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis
arrived at Kimpemba, where they met Mr. Bentley. The story of the meeting
is briefly told by Mrs. Lewis as follows: “Kimpemba, February 15, 1904.
There is a chance of sending, so I am just writing the latest news.
We arrived here Saturday, 13th, and found Mr. Bentley, who had been
suffering from influenza. He was up, but that night went to bed in fever,
and is not up yet. His cough is bad. It is awkward here with no proper
house, bed, or other comforts. Fortunately we have plenty of fowls.
Expecting to be back in less than a fortnight, we did not bring much with
us. Of course we shall not leave Mr. Bentley until he is fairly well, and
fit to return. Tom and I have a little neuralgia, but are quite well.
17th.—Mr. B. is decidedly better.”
“Kibokolo, March 7. I wrote you a card when we were at Kimpemba, telling
you how ill Mr. Bentley was. I am glad to say he got fairly well before
we left, and was able to proceed on his journey, but he is very shaky,
though awfully plucky. I do hope he will go home soon. I did my best
to persuade him, but he said there was this thing and the other which
he must do first. Still he acknowledged that he must go as soon as
possible, as he did not wish to throw away his life. We spent six days
there and were very glad to have a little time with him, although we were
only able to have chop together one day. He was asking about you all.”
“March 25, 1904. (To Miss Ethel Percival)—You would love the little birds
here! on a fine day there are crowds. Sweet little palm birds, soft
brown, with lovely blue breasts, and the dancing birds—the cocks with
long tail feathers, some six inches long, and very handsome black and
white plumage, and their little brown mates—dance a kind of jig while on
the wing. This is a regular bird paradise, for no gun, arrow, or missile
of any kind is allowed to be used within our part of the station. I am
afraid dear Sandy sometimes makes a meal of poultry, but he usually
confines himself to rats, of which there is an abundant supply, and he
never touches the chickens or ducks which are all running about. Some of
our English chickens hatched here are very fine birds, and the ducks do
well too. But I try not to take too much interest in them individually,
because you see some of them have to be eaten eventually. Dear Dombe is
growing, but I do not think he will be a big donkey. He is much petted,
and I think enjoys his little self. He does not like Sundays, for his
friends then retire to the chapel for very long periods, he thinks. He
welcomes them rapturously on their return.
“I have been very busy this week sewing and writing. It was no use to
go into the town for there are two funerals proceeding, and the people
are too busy and excited with drink and dancing to listen to anything.
Then it is Mrs. Bowskill’s week for school—we take it week about—so I
have taken the opportunity to answer some of the letters which have
been waiting for replies. Then too I am writing a catechism for little
children on the Life of Our Lord, which is getting on.”
“July 10th.—I think I told you in my last that I am taking school in
the morning now, boys and girls together. There are thirty-six in all.
I quite enjoy having a respectable school again. I like school teaching
better than any work, I think, when I am well. Then with the medicine,
house, girls’ work and small boys to see to in the afternoon I am pretty
busy, as you may imagine. Between whiles Tom and I do just a little
gardening, so as to keep some fresh vegetable going (that is mostly my
department); Tom is growing vines and roses. So between us we are getting
a few things about the station. Then there are the services for Tom on
Sunday, and prayers every morning in chapel, and my class on Sunday
afternoons for all young folks on station, when they learn portions of
Scripture by rote to repeat to me, and a class of big boys on Wednesday
evenings, whom I am taking through the Acts. So though sadly behind in
visiting and itineration we are working for the future, and trust and
pray that some of the young folk may prove to be blessings in their towns
in the years to come.”
“February, 1905. (Circular letter to children.)—It is rather a long time
since I wrote to you about the work here, but I have no doubt you read
the _Herald_ and so know a little of how we are going on. This is such a
very dark spot, and the saddest part is that now the True Light has come
into their midst the people still prefer darkness. Night after night we
can hear them shouting and dancing at their fetish palavers. When any one
falls sick they say it is caused by an evil spirit, and all the friends
of the sick person assemble after dark to drive it away by charms and
incantations, accompanied by singing and dancing. The next day they will
solemnly tell us that they saw the spirit go away into the darkness,
although the patient is no better and oftener than not dies.
“Yet in a few cases the light is beginning to pierce the gloom; some are
wishing to learn, and what I think is even more hopeful, some—very few
at present—of the men are beginning to want their wives and children
taught. For the last six months all the workmen on the station have been
attending day or night school, and at Christmastime some of them came and
said they saw that we—the missionaries’ wives—were not happy because the
women did not come to be taught, so they were going to make an effort
to get them, as they wanted their wives to learn. They made a feast, to
which they invited all the chiefs and headmen, and told them that now
they themselves went to school and knew there was no witch palaver in
it, so they must not prevent the women from coming. The chiefs agreed to
this, and the following Monday when we began school after the holidays
two women and a little girl came. These two have long wished to come,
but were prevented by the superstition of their husbands and relatives.
Others came afterwards, so now we have eleven besides the nine girls who
live with us on the station, and we hope many more will come since they
have made a beginning. They are not stupid. Four have already learnt
their letters, and I was surprised yesterday at the slate of ‘a’s’
written by one of them from the blackboard. She had a child in her arms,
and had never attempted a stroke until she came to school.
“They are very wild and dirty and not at all inviting-looking, but it is
wonderful to see how gradually, almost imperceptibly, they are getting
into order and how well they learn to say the text with which we close
school.
“On Sunday afternoons I have started a class for any girls or women who
will come, and I get from five to fifteen besides the station girls. Some
of these are older women who do not come to day school. They learn a
text, and then I tell them as simply as I can something about Jesus. Some
of them listen very well, and I want you all to join in praying for these
Zombo women and girls that many more may come to be taught, and that
those who do come may learn to love and follow the Saviour.
“A week or two ago my husband and I went out for a visit to some of the
towns to the north of this place. In some we were well received, as we
had visited them before when we first came to Zombo. In one group of
towns in particular we were able to make friends and have some nice talks
with the people. In one town there were several sick folk, who were glad
of medicine, and in the same town there was one woman who had just lost
her daughter, another who had a little baby, and both of these seemed to
like to listen to what I told them about the great God Who made us all
and loves us.
[Illustration: BRIDGE OVER LUSENGELE STREAM NEAR COMBER STATION,
KIBOKOLO.]
“One day a rather tiresome incident occurred, although we cannot help
laughing when we think of it now. We wanted to go to a place called
Kidia, which is on the other side of the Nkisi river. This is a fine
river and too deep to ford; the only way of crossing is in a large canoe,
which is kept there as a ferry. We crossed, but found the district most
miserable; the people and the houses all seemed dead or dying, so we did
not stay there long, but returned to the river at another place, as we
wished to come back by a different route altogether.
“We got to a wretched little town early in the morning, and as the people
did not seem friendly, and there was not a decent house in the place, we
decided to cross the river and go another way. When we arrived at the
ferry the canoe was on the farther bank and the ferryman nowhere to be
seen. The carriers called and shouted for about an hour, when two boys
came down to bring the canoe over, but when they saw Mr. Lewis they
fled, and as we heard afterwards, went and told the townsfolk there was
‘something’ on the opposite bank, not a man at all! We sat and waited,
hoping they would bring their master, as our men called after them to
do, but hour after hour passed and still no one came. At last one of our
young men, the only one who could, swam across; but when he attempted to
punt the canoe, he only fell over into the water, so the men called to
him to go into the town and fetch the ferryman. We waited another hour
and a half, when the boy returned, saying he could find neither town nor
people. So there was nothing for it but to go back to the little town we
had left in the morning. We were very weary, for we had taken nothing
but some biscuits and milk all day, and had not been able to rest at all
between the hot sun in the open space by the river, and the insects when
we retreated into the shade. The people were very angry when they saw us
coming back; they thought we had been driven away from somewhere, and
suggested that if we had only waited till dark, ‘the devil would have
taken us over.’ We got the best house we could; but there was hardly room
for our beds in the one place in the middle where the roof was whole, and
we had hardly got them up before a tremendous storm came on. The next
morning we went back to the ferry by which we had previously crossed and
got over all right.”
* * * * *
In 1908 Mr. Lewis read a paper before the Royal Geographical Society in
London, entitled “The Ancient Kingdom of Kongo.” It was illustrated by
splendid photographs, and received with enthusiasm. I was present, and
can testify to the heartiness of the cheer given by the audience for
Mrs. Lewis, who had been her husband’s fellow-traveller. The following
passage is taken from this paper, which was printed in the _Geographical
Journal_ for June, 1908:—
“Two years ago (August to October, 1905), in company with my wife (who
has always travelled with me, and assisted me in my observations for some
twenty years), I made a journey through Nkusu into Mbamba, visiting on my
way the celebrated, but now abandoned, copper mines at Mbembe.
“The Nkusu district is the most populous I have visited in the whole of
my journeyings through Northern Angola. The villages are numerous, and
the inhabitants generally seemed to be strong and healthy. I always judge
of the prosperity of the country by the area of land under cultivation.
The extensive plantations of manioc, maize, beans, sweet potatoes, and
other native products point to the inhabitants being industrious and
prosperous. The Nkusu folk also engage in trade like all the other
tribes, and spend much of their time away in the rubber market. This
being a free trade in Portuguese Congo the natives make good profit by
it. The highest altitude I have registered on the plateau is in this
district, being 3,600 feet above sea-level.
“I cannot help comparing this district with that of Kidia, on the east
side of the Nkisi, where we passed through some of the most wretched
villages I ever saw. There was hardly a hut fit for any human being to
live in, and all were in a tumbledown condition. The people were ill-fed
and dirty, and the children—the few I saw—were feeding on palm-nuts and
raw manioc. We came to two villages close to each other, and found that
all the inhabitants had died of sleep-sickness. The carriers entered some
of the huts and saw the bodies of two or three in the last stages of
decomposition on the floor. These were possibly abandoned by the small
remnant who had fled before this terrible scourge of Central Africa.
“It was, therefore, an agreeable change to travel day after day among
a bright and prosperous tribe of people. But even there we came across
some disagreeable scenes and cruel customs. One day we arrived at a
village where they were just preparing the body of a woman for burial in
the Lueka River close by. Our carriers, always attracted by a funeral
feast, went to look on, and one of the lads ran back to tell us that they
were going to bury a four-days-old baby with the mother. I hastened to
the spot just in time to see the grandmother pulling a native cord and
fastening the living babe to the neck of the dead mother. Amidst great
confusion and wild protests I rescued the child out of her hands and
carried it to my wife. It only lived, however, ten days, but we remember
with horror that the child had been left for twenty-four hours to suck
at the breast of a dead woman. The burying of infants with their dead
mothers is a common practice through the whole Congo region, except
where there are missionaries or Government officials to stop it. I have
heard of one father who reared his motherless child with native beer
(mbamvu) and palm wine, but I know of no other case outside the members
of Christian communities.”
In the course of this journey Mr. and Mrs. Lewis visited Mabaya, a new
station far south of San Salvador, recently founded by Mr. and Mrs.
Cameron. Their coming had been eagerly expected, and was warmly welcomed.
They were delighted with the progress their friends had made in so short
a time, and in the following letter Mrs. Lewis gives a brief account of
the visit:—
“Mabaya, September 17th. We have been here nearly a week.... We found
Josephine fairly well though rather depressed, for Mr. Cameron had been
very unwell and she was very anxious about him. His health is not at
all satisfactory. He has been left far too long without a colleague,
and when the Kirklands come there ought to be a third man very soon,
in case the Camerons have to return. They are holding on bravely here,
doing with the minimum of comforts to save transport, and the work seems
decidedly promising. The people here are more like San Salvador folk
than are our wild creatures in Zombo. Josephine has three meetings for
women; that in the near town is very good, and the women are learning
to sing quite nicely. To-day we are assisting at the opening of the new
chapel, a very nice, large grass structure—not quite finished. Tom and
I are to speak this afternoon (Sunday), and to-morrow night Tom is to
show a magic lantern. Then, on Tuesday, we start homewards by a different
route. I shall write a circular letter about our journey, so I must not
write about it now. I had a nasty fall from my hammock which might have
been serious. It delayed us a day, and kept me from doing anything for
several days. I am thankful to say the effects have passed off without
any permanent damage, though I have reminders now and then.”
“November 14th. (To Mrs. J. Jenkyn Brown.)—We have had a most
discouraging year with regard to the work here. It seems like a blank
wall of superstition and wickedness, and were it not that we know that
there is nothing impossible to God we might well despair. We have been
here now more than five years, and seem to make very little headway. I
do hope the women’s meetings I have just begun will be maintained. I
have not been able to get them hitherto, so that is a step in the right
direction. Also, the women are coming better now to school, but the boys’
school is so interrupted by the constant demands for carriers from the
Portuguese authorities, who are simply recruiting agents for the traders.
At ‘women’s meetings’ so far, I have had a number of boys and girls and a
few men as well, but I am glad to get any one who will listen. The Sunday
services are a little better attended lately, but the numbers are still
small.”
In January, 1906, Mr. and Mrs. Lewis attended the United Conference
of Congo Missionaries at Kinshasa, Stanley Pool, to which Mr. Lawson
Forfeitt brought the heavy news of the death of Dr. Holman Bentley. The
following passage is from a letter dated Kibokolo, February 3rd:—
“The ladies were a good deal to the fore in the meetings and there were
several papers read, and discussions in which we all took part, about
women’s work. Then the ladies had two close meetings to talk over private
matters with regard to the time for these girls to marry, &c., &c. These
were felt to be most helpful, especially to the younger ones among us,
who were quite surprised at many of the customs which we older ones could
tell them of. I certainly feel now that the time was not wasted which I
spent up there, for they said I had taught them many things with regard
to women’s work here which they could not have learned otherwise. I was
very glad to have some talks with Dr. Catherine Mabie of Banza Manteka,
on medical matters. She is so nice, and so are Dr. Leslie and his wife.
Their little boy, ten months old, was with them. Then all other sides of
the work were discussed and many papers read. On Sunday morning we met
for a memorial service for Dr. Bentley, when Mr. Grenfell gave such a
beautiful address. After that we all sang a hymn I chose, which seemed to
me so specially appropriate,
“‘Captain and Saviour of the host
Of Christian Chivalry,
We thank Thee for our comrade true,
Now summoned up to Thee.’
“Then we had the Conference sermon by Mr. Harvey, and in the afternoon a
native service, Mr. Richards preaching in Congo and Mr. James Clark in
Bobangi, and finally a united communion service.
“All except our own people left on Monday. We had to stay for our local
committee.”
“February 19th, I was very disappointed with the _Baptist Times_ article
about Dr. Bentley. There is no proper account of the funeral. In the
editorial note it says, and Charles Williams repeats it, that he had
finished translating the Bible. That is not correct, and we are all so
grieved about it. Arrangements are now being made for its completion.
Then, to crown all the blunders, C. Williams in writing about the
commencement of the Mission speaks of the four noble men, Grenfell,
Bentley, Comber and Crudgington! leaving out John altogether. I think it
is too bad in the official organ. I hoped that Harry Crudgington might
see the latter error and correct it. I wonder if you noticed it. Of
course it does not matter really, for the Master knows all the faithful
workers, but still the younger generation ought to know the names of
those who lived and died for Christ and Congo. We are indeed thankful
for Dr. Bentley’s life and work. His place cannot be filled. Although we
disagreed with some of his plans we were always pleased to see him and
to talk with him; and we are so glad that we had that week with him, two
years ago, when he was ill. Poor Mrs. Bentley and the children: they must
feel his loss sadly. Mrs. Bentley’s whole life will be changed. Their
photograph came out as a New Year’s card, and it seemed like a farewell
from our old friend and colleague. He looked so young in it.”
“July 8th. (To Mrs. J. Jenkyn Brown).—We hope to leave for home in
January, as we feel it would not be wise to attempt to stay another bad
season here. So we do hope a new man for Mabaya will hurry up. We had
purposed to stay another year, but that is out of the question now. We
enjoyed the Grahams’ visit very much, though so short, and while they
were here we had our first baptism—not a Zombo, that joy is yet to come;
but a girl who has been with me four years, and has been the greatest
comfort to us all for the last two. We went down singing to the beautiful
little river at the bottom of the Mission grounds, a good many Zombos
coming too, to see what we were about. Tom and Mr. P. had “throats” so
Mr. Graham conducted the service and then Tom baptized. Afterwards we
went into our chapel and sat down to the Lord’s Table, together with a
few Christians from San Salvador. While they were here Mrs. Graham went
with me to my women’s meetings in two towns just a little way off. She
was so amused with the women here; she had never seen such a wild lot.”
“August 3rd.—We are both fairly well but rather overdone. You will
feel as grieved as we do to hear of dear Mr. Grenfell’s death, and so
soon after Dr. Bentley’s. We were much surprised when we heard he was
hopelessly ill, as he seemed quite well in January, though very sorrowful
and downhearted. All this trouble with the State and then Dr. Bentley’s
death greatly upset him. We can ill spare either of them, so if seems to
us, but God knows best. Mr. Grenfell was a really good man and so humble
and meek. May we have grace to follow him so far as he followed Christ!”
“August 22nd.—Just now we have with us a Christian woman from San
Salvador Church. She is a wife of ‘Noso,’ the old chief of Mbanza Mputu,
our old friend. Ditina is an old friend of mine too, and has been a
Christian for many years. She would have been a deacon long ago but that
she is a co-wife. She is a splendid worker, and we thought she might
be able to get at those whom we cannot reach. She has been here a week
nearly now, and has been out every day making friends and talking to the
people. She will be here for about three weeks longer. Then in October we
hope to have Nlekai to go over with me the second part of ‘The Pilgrim’s
Progress,’ which I am translating. I hope he will be able to come.”