SIXTH HALF. JANUARY 1881-JUNE 1881.
On the first day of the New Year we had a party of Headmen to dinner.
A cow had been killed the night before, and two boys were sent with
letters of invitation! The Headmen came dressed in shirts and gaudy
handkerchiefs. As they were not used to knives and forks, the meat was
cut up in small pieces and the vegetables mashed so that all could
be eaten with spoons. Their table-talk is just like the ordinary
conversation in other lands. Some of them had been unfriendly to each
other, but here was a little reunion. One Headman who lived outside
Blantyre was led to speak of a slave who had run away from him. He sat
beside Chibowa, a Blantyre Headman, who had been notorious for giving
secret protection to slaves ever since the Mission was against the
policy. We referred the slave-owner to Chibowa, “because when a person
was missing every one went to him!” The two men had often disputed with
each other before, but they could now join in the general laugh.
This half year I translated the greater part of the Pilgrim’s Progress.
Certain personages like Giant Pope I had of course to omit. Through _vivâ
voce_ teaching some of the classes knew and appreciated a great part
of this allegory. I was also very busy in translating the Scriptures.
We knew that the time required to translate the whole Bible was about
fifteen years, and Buchanan and I were anxious to try whether we might
not, by working as for a wager, complete the task in a much shorter time.
While we were thus busy on the Yao Bible we knew that Dr. Laws and the
Missionaries on Nyassa were advancing in the translation of the Chinyasa
Bible.
Towards the end of 1880, Chelomoni, a Blantyre Headman, captured two men
from Mpingwi, and put them in slave-sticks. They belonged to the village
that had kidnapped the children (page 218) a few months before, and
native law did not require proof that the men were personally guilty.
They were undoubtedly innocent. Still they were kept in close confinement
till their friends returned the captives in February. Chelomoni was not
content with simply receiving the children; he demanded compensation as
well, and insisted on having paid over to him as damages “many men”. But
ultimately he accepted one little boy, whom the Doctor took charge of.
During their long imprisonment the Doctor did what he could to see that
the prisoners were properly fed, and as Mrs. Macdonald employed them in
comb-making (an art which they could practice with their neck in the
stocks) they had some wages to receive on their release; hence though
their imprisonment was very long they did not seem to feel it so much
after all.
_Saturday, 26th February._—Having gone to visit Kapeni, I was conducted
by his sons to see Cholobwe—a man of royal blood, and often talked of as
Kapeni’s probable successor. I found a boy with him that had once lived
at Zomba and attended school there. The little fellow promised to come to
Blantyre, and Kapeni’s sons were to come with him.
_March 3._—I had a visit from Kumpama. He told me that he had been “very
busy for some time,” but had now come to see me. As we think ourselves
more and more into the natives’ views of life, we must admit that some of
them may be “very busy,” though at first we give them credit for being
extremely lazy. We were anxious to form an acquaintance with Mkanda, who
dealt largely in slaves and was understood to be hostile to the Mission.
When first visited by the Missionaries in 1877, he had proved very
uncivil, and since then he had often threatened to attack the Mission
settlement, which had done so much to ruin the slave trade. Even when Dr.
Macklin was returning from Mlanje in 1879, his caravan had been afraid
to pass too near this chief, and at the period of Mityoche’s attack on
the Mission carriers, Mkanda was believed to be hostile also. Hence he
required to be approached with caution. While talking to Kumpama about
his neighbours, I asked whether he could give us a guide to Mkanda’s, and
he at once consented to do so. It happened also that Kapeni’s “captain”
was working at Blantyre, and he was willing to accompany.
_March 4._—The Doctor and I started for Mkanda’s along with Kumpama.
When we entered Kumpama’s villages he left us with a headman whom he
instructed to conduct us to a sub-chief called Sapula.
Notwithstanding all our care, we arrived at Sapula’s at a very critical
time. The old man came forth and perched on the top of a large rock
overlooking our party and said, “Oh yes! at Mkanda’s it is good—very
good—plenty of war!” As we looked up to this chief, we might have taken
him for an apparition, while his strange utterances reminded us of the
responses of an ancient oracle. Soon he explained that Mkanda expected an
attack from Chikumbu that very night. The people who lived on this side
of Cherasulo were all full of terror, and had fled far up the mountain
to spots almost inaccessible. But a man who called himself Mkanda’s
father came down among us, and volunteered to be our guide, and after
some consultation we proceeded. Mkanda’s village was surrounded by maize
which was higher than the houses, so that we were close on it before we
were seen. When our party approached, some of those that saw us first
were scared and shouted “war”. This is always an awkward thing in Africa,
and it now made me quite anxious. Shouting out “war” to a party is much
the same as declaring war against them. In cases like this, everything
depends on the guide, and Mkanda’s “father” exerted himself and proved
equal to the occasion. Soon we mingled with Mkanda’s villagers, and I
recognised several that often came to Blantyre for work. Mkanda himself
was afraid to appear and kept hiding among the huts, while his people
could not refrain from laughing at him. It was not till all his children
were sitting about us that he came forth.
His conversation shewed that he was well informed regarding his country,
and I soon had a very favourable impression of his abilities. The thing
most on his mind was the danger of an attack from Chikumbu, but he was of
opinion that our presence would be in his favour. He has one square hut
which he put at our disposal.
Next morning he was able to congratulate us that Chikumbu had not come.
The time had been when Mkanda himself was expected in like manner to
attack Blantyre! In a short time he gave us a guide to the top of
Cherasulo, and directed the man to lead us by the easiest way. Mkanda’s
own children and most of the boys in his village accompanied us. They
could climb the rocky sides of the hill like monkeys. We soon discovered
that there was no easy way to the top of the mountain, and the guide
thought that, after we found out this, we should be glad to return. To
add to our danger, several loose stones lay on the mountain side. While
climbing we pulled ourselves up by anything we could lay hold of, and
the stones that did not bear the strain became detached and endangered
the lives of those that were following further down. The Doctor wanted
to find the height of the mountain and brought a kettleful of water to
ascertain the boiling point, but the boys drank the water on the way.
Probably they left as much as would have been sufficient, but our own
thirst was so terrible that the whole was drunk, and no more could
be found on the mountain top. While we rested on the summit we had
an opportunity of noting how many villages there were in such parts
of the country as we had not yet visited. The young lads that went
with us became very friendly and professed great interest in schools
and “reading,” and after our return to the village we gave them an
illustration of what reading meant. The Chief dictated words and names
which I wrote down on a paper. Three or four Blantyre boys who were
with me were conveyed far out of hearing, and carefully watched till
the writing was finished. They were called back one by one. Then each
looked at the paper and read. As soon as the words passed his lips there
arose a great shout of wonder and applause from the chief’s people. The
experiment was carried on for a long time because every old man that
joined the crowd refused to believe that it could be done, until he saw
it for himself.
This simple test of reading I often employed afterwards in other places.
Sometimes I varied the experiment by giving a boy my pencil, and then
asking to be conducted to the back of a distant hut. The natives compared
the “wisdom” to that of the witch detective, who is believed to possess
miraculous means of gaining information.
That day there had been a great trial at Mkanda’s. The particulars of
the case were these. Across the stream from Blantyre, a few minutes’
walk from the Station is a native village under a chief called Mkao. Two
sheep-stealers from Mkanda’s region came and carried off one of Mkao’s
goats. But they were pursued by terrible avengers. A native described to
me with great delight the fate that overtook them. When they were about
six miles from Mkao’s village they stopped in order to dine. They lighted
a fire and prepared to feast on the goat. As they were thus engaged,
Mkao’s men overtook them, and killed one of them on the spot. He was
“divided into pieces, and the parts of his body were mingled with those
of the goat”. The other thief escaped for a little, but his pursuers,
according to my informer, chased him round till he was down on the plain
opposite Ndilande, and then killed him “and hung up his body on a tree”.
Mkao himself had told me about the matter, but he left the impression
that he had killed only one thief, and that he wanted more vengeance. The
case happened to come up for consideration at Mkanda’s just now. When we
were on the top of the hill, guns were fired at the village to signify
that the complaint had been dismissed (kususa). On our return we heard
that the Chief had told the friends of the thieves that they ought not to
have stolen so near the English! Indeed, on our arrival, Mkao had been
introduced to me as a Headman belonging to Blantyre, and he called us his
Fathers, but, although he constantly came to visit, we never heard much
about the civil government of this “son,” except once that a herd boy
allowed some of our cattle to eat his corn, when Mkao’s people gave him a
severe beating, and broke his arm.
Mkanda was very friendly, and expressed a desire to have a Mission
planted among his people, in order that his children might learn to read,
and that his people might get work. As we might expect, these Africans,
at first, value Mission settlements chiefly for the employment that is
given, and the calico that is paid: “We want something to wear,” is the
general cry. The Mission, they think, must first clothe the naked.
While the natives get employment, they receive at the same time some
industrial training. They can learn a great deal from gardeners and
agriculturists, yet such training is apt to be overestimated. Bishop
Mackenzie, who wished to teach the natives how to farm, found that they
knew better than himself. They certainly know all about their own crops.
Mr. Duncan, the Blantyre gardener, had a few natives taught to look after
European plants, and he considered that they were nearly as good as
European workmen, but of course they had him to guide them. It is said,
‘They have not shoes, how can they dig with a spade!’ Yet they do dig
with spades. The bare foot of the native is a very different instrument
from the bare foot of the European. Although their own skill in carpentry
is not to be despised, they were much delighted with our tools and
methods. They soon learned to do the rougher work, under the Blantyre
joiners; and if they were able to read figures they could be taught to be
very valuable workmen. Sometimes, however, they excelled themselves! One
might see a native carpenter making a great show of using a plumb-line,
while he did not observe that the lead rested on the ground!
When Mrs. MacDonald had time to accompany me in visiting native villages,
she found a walk of four miles in the hot sun quite enough, and waited in
some village till I returned. During these stays she became acquainted
with the women, who usually demanded why she had not brought the children
with her. The latter were special favourites with the natives. Some old
warriors, whose very look was suggestive of the assagai, were very kind
to the white children.
_Saturday, March 19._—We paid a visit to Kapeni, and a great crowd of
children followed us back. In such journeys the heat compels us to rest
by the streams: and if we have carried any food we take lunch on the
banks.
_Monday, 21._—Kapeni’s children came and attended school. We consider
this one of the most important gains that have been made by the
Mission. We had long had all the children of the Magololo chiefs with
us, but their presence did not make the Mission school popular among
our neighbours. The Yao had given us the land and had made us welcome
to settle, and now we had nearly a third of our pupils from chiefs who
were hostile to them and who might be plotting to come up and ‘take away
their country’. Hence they were slow in sending their children to school.
Ever since my arrival I had been asking Kapeni about pupils whom he
promised me. “Don’t be in a hurry about that,” Dr. Laws would say, “the
day will yet come”: and now more than a dozen children were sent over.
They stipulated that they must be allowed to stay with Mrs. Macdonald’s
boys and that the Magololo boys should not be allowed to interfere with
them. Mrs. Macdonald took the main charge of teaching them to read,
and out of school hours they were supplied with cards and studied most
diligently by themselves. On Friday night they returned to Kapeni’s but
appeared in full force on Monday morning and brought a few of their
companions besides. They soon made themselves at home on the Station.
When any stranger called at our house, they generally introduced him and
as they knew all the people in the district better than our Blantyre
friends did, they were useful in this way. It was seldom that their royal
blood got them into trouble. But on one occasion they all attacked a boy
that ventured to speak of their father Kapeni as “an old man”. Another
time they had to be restrained from an assault on a lad that had spoken
to them in the Chinyasa language. They demanded to be treated as Yao!
They pressed me to visit their home on Saturdays. One day that I went
they asked me to go up the mountain (Sochi) to shoot baboons, which
greatly destroy the crops. Kapeni’s oldest son also came and we had the
appearance of being a hunting party! I wounded a baboon, and the boys
gave it chase and soon secured it. I suggested that they should leave
it behind till we found more. But African hunters don’t care to let
their “meat” out of sight, and in a few minutes they bored holes in the
baboon’s legs through which they put cords of bark, and then two boys
were told off to carry it on a pole. The carcase was borne faithfully,
sometimes up the steep mountain side, for about two hours. When we were
going back I remarked that it might be taken on to the village, but none
of them liked the idea of eating it “on the village green,” which would
mean that every villager would have a right to share it with them (67.)
On reaching the fields they lighted a fire and prepared to enjoy their
feast. I was expected to claim a large share of the “meat” as having shot
the baboon, and when I waived my claim they were much astonished—some
were deeply disappointed that ‘father would not take his meat’. But
notwithstanding their kind solicitations, I would take nothing but the
skin, which they took off very neatly, preserving the “fingers” of the
animal that they might “shew them to Mrs. Macdonald!” I pointed out that
they should reserve some meat as a present for Kapeni, and he was allowed
a hind leg. In the middle of the feast the owner of the field drew near
in great alarm. “Who has been making a fire among my corn?” he asked, but
when he saw the glorious roast he said nothing farther: he smacked his
lips and congratulated himself that he had come in time. After the party
had satisfied themselves by eating the internal organs the rest of the
meat was divided among them, not equally but rather in accordance with
their views of seniority. A baboon is a large animal and is considered a
great prize.
These boys from Kapeni’s all made fair progress. By the time we left
them at the end of June they were able to read their own language. They
wanted only practice, but as they left the Mission then, they would soon
forget much that they had acquired. The more advanced classes pleased us
well. Some lads would have got on swimmingly not only with Arithmetic,
but also with Euclid and Algebra, had we only possessed text books in
their own tongue. In April we devoted some time to the preparation of
a Grammar for them with progressive exercises. Geography and History
we had left entirely alone except so far as the Bible and Christianity
were concerned. Friday afternoon was devoted to instruction of a more
amusing kind. They all enjoyed seeing a light burning under water on the
diving-bell principle, and similar small experiments.
I always considered that the school had the first claim on my time; and
when teaching I refused to admit any interruption although all the chiefs
in the country should come to talk with me. This was well known, and
some chiefs, on arriving during school hours, sat about the doors, while
others came in and listened. Except when there was a European marriage
or some great event, we never had a single holiday. Even when groups
of armed men, almost on the point of deadly combat, were watching each
other round the school, I carried on the usual routine of school-work as
if all had been quiet. The religious meetings for the natives were also
conducted with unfailing regularity, although we had seen days when the
white men judged it prudent to come to the Sunday service with revolvers
in their pockets. The native men always appeared at our meeting with
their guns, which they laid down beside them during the service just as a
European worshipper does with his hat.
In May there was a scare. The Mangoni were believed to be coming, and
some of our villagers ran to the top of a hill. The Magololo carried
their ivory and other valuables to islands in the river. The mention of
the word Mangoni seems sufficient to clear out a whole village. One day
two boys began to fight in the jungle near Blantyre. In a little while,
the women of a neighbouring village were seen hurrying into the Station
with their children on their backs. They had taken the screams of the
combatants for the war-cry of the Mangoni.
At Blantyre we had many visitors, and they were received outside and
squatted on a mat in the verandah. When Kapeni or any of the greater
chiefs came, a chair was brought. All these native potentates were fond
of sweets. At first they had viewed them with the greatest suspicion.
I saw a headman once wait till all his companions had eaten, and when
he found that they were delighted with the strange eatable (yakulya),
he summoned courage and began to eat, saying, “Well, if I die, you will
all die too!” Kapeni would never taste jam because it was “like blood,”
but on one occasion we called his own children who did not hesitate
long. Indeed they were so fond of jam that they always pressed round
Mrs. Macdonald when she was making it, and if any was spilt, they would
insist on licking it off the floor. Although the visits of native chiefs
and headmen called me from my work in translating the Bible, yet I ever
found that such visits contributed to my knowledge of the language, and
I carefully noted down new words or phrases that they might use. We were
inclined to think that one reason why the Magololo sent their children
was that they thus found an excuse for visiting the Mission and obtaining
presents. All African chiefs are strong on “presents,” and the custom was
both expensive to the Mission and demoralising to the chiefs; but it was
very difficult to make a change. Incidentally, however, we fell on a plan
that modified matters. When a chief came up and obtained his present, we
bought some goats from him and paid the price there and then. When he
went back to his home, he did not send up the goats, and as he wanted
us to forget all about the bargain, he did not visit the Mission to ask
presents for a long time! The habit of giving presents to the Magololo
headmen provoked the jealousy of those beside us. Kumlomba and the
other Blantyre headmen would say, “Why do the English not give us ‘big
presents’ too?”
At first the Missionaries had occasionally asked the natives, “For what
purpose did we leave our homes to come here?” The latter, who never leave
their friends except when driven away by war, replied, “You came here
because there was war in your country.” But as the evangelistic work was
steadily conducted, it gradually became more hopeful. At sunrise we had
prayers, at which all the workers were present, and such of our pupils
as lived close at hand. Before sunset there was a similar service. At
mid-day I preached to the natives. On Sunday we had two native services,
and after one of these the natives began to hold a little prayer meeting
of their own. Statements that are taken for granted in a Christian
congregation at home will not pass here. Instead of allowing that he is
a sinner, the ordinary native maintains that he has never done anything
wrong: although he will admit that a great many other people have sinned.
Out of compliment to the traditional policy of the English in this
country, the natives say that it is bad to sell people: to possess slaves
is quite right—every rich native has his wealth invested in this species
of goods—but to buy or sell slaves is wrong. Hence when a man goes over
to stock his farm or his harem at the great slave mart in the Mangoni
country, he declares that he goes there to redeem (kuwombola) people!
“The Mangoni had captured slaves, he goes to release them!” But he does
not venture to pretend that he gives these “ransomed” persons their
liberty (62). Another thing which the natives condemn is war. The party
that first arrived in the country had made the evils of war a very common
subject of meditation. They almost betrayed a personal interest in doing
so, for they would frequently say, “Remember, now, that if one Englishman
be killed, twenty will come to his funeral!” This statement of itself
would be enough to frighten the native from trying his slugs on the white
man! The negro was also told that the white man had acquired clothes
and money and all such good things because he was a man of peace. “We,”
it was said, “come from a country which does not fight.” If the black
man had known anything of English history, I fear he would have drawn a
different conclusion, and been much perplexed at the coolness with which
his instructor repeated the questionable assertion! In the same way the
exhortations to civilisation were of a doubtful nature, and could only
proclaim how little the foreigners knew of the natives’ condition. I
refer to subjects like these because I have ever felt that a Missionary
is in a doubtful position except when he sets himself to deliver his _one
great message_. After he has exhausted that theme, it is time enough
to take up others. Many think that barbarians might be improved if a
Missionary confined himself to purely secular teaching. But the purely
secular instructor would find it difficult to meet the objections of his
audience. “Why should we try to buy English clothes, if we like our own
better? Why should we build larger houses—our own suit us very well? Why
should we farm more ground when we are quite contented with the food we
have?” If they asked further whether this civilisation always made men
happier and better, the civilised man could not tell them that it did.
Undoubtedly, a native might become a very good Christian, and still be
content with his small hut and his coarse fare. If mere civilising agents
had met with a man like Abraham, I fear that the life and manners of the
patriarch would have been too simple for their tastes. Yet, while the
Missionary takes for his text “One thing is needful,” he knows that other
things will be added thereunto. He feels that he has to proclaim “good
news” which will bring happiness to everyone that believes it, and as
he looks along all the stages of the native life from the day that the
African draws his first breath beside a stream in the dense forest till
the day that he lies down on his mat to die, the Missionary knows that
these glad tidings will soon brighten the whole.
The native beliefs regarding witchcraft must occupy the attention of
the preacher, who will fail to impart Scripture ideas of the government
of the world unless he refer to the opposing views. The opinion that a
man cannot die without being bewitched, is one which they cling to most
tenaciously; and withal they are very metaphysical. We might think that
a single lecture on physiology from a medical man would cut up this
doctrine by the very roots. But no. The natives admit that death is
always the result of injury or decay, but they maintain that this fact
does not in the least discredit their own theory. It rather confirms
their belief, for did not the witch use means to bring about these causes
of death? As the natives seldom speak of their customs and beliefs, one
may live here for years before becoming aware of the evils and hardships
that so many Africans endure: but when these things are known in all
their horrid enormity, they furnish a text for a great many “practical
remarks,” and the poor people listen attentively to every subject that
bears on their ordinary life. To ourselves the sad practice of the
witch-detective gave a new meaning to the text “Thou shalt not suffer a
witch to live”: for if there be beings that ought not to be suffered to
live these sorcerers must be among the number. Each year they consign
scores of their fellow mortals to an untimely grave.
By certain parts of their experience, these natives, it might almost be
said, have had their minds prepared for receiving the Gospel message.
They know what it is to be redeemed from the evil consequences of their
own actions (80), as well as from slavery, and they see numerous cases
where a criminal is legally set free while another man occupies his
place. As a matter of fact, many of them began to understand what was
meant by the statement that “the Son of God died to save sinners,” and
were affected by it, and told their companions that it was wonderful
news. Often, in places where a religious creed has been long established,
persons hear these words without reflecting on their meaning, but
intelligent Africans cannot do this. Again in our Western world we do
not know so well as they do what it is to be _entirely_ at the disposal
of another, and to have no private ends. Amidst the ordinary life of
struggle and bustle, our ideal of a successful man is a person that is
intensely devoted to his own interests, while their state of society,
with all its defects, produces men that are as intensely devoted to the
interests of another, and some of whom could enter with much sympathy
into the feelings of the apostle who called himself the slave of Jesus
Christ.
We occupied a position of most momentous importance, standing as we did
at a point where a savage assemblage was becoming more like a Christian
church. Already we could discover the workings of a mind that had shewed
itself in the history of the past. The natives might easily be led to
believe that certain ordinances were as important in the Christian
religion as certain charms were in their old faith. They would soon infer
that the waters of Baptism would have as great an effect upon them as
the waters of the Jordan had on Naaman the Syrian. In accordance with
this they would attribute the greatest powers to the Missionary, and, as
regards the majority of the people, who depended on him for all their
religious information, that personage would be to them nothing if he were
not infallible. To such views the people around us, many of whom had once
been slaves, seemed very much inclined when they approached the subject
with earnestness. Well might one suggest to them the prayer:—
“Be with us in this darkened place
This weary, restless, dangerous night,
And teach, O teach us by thy grace
To struggle onward into light!”
_May 21._—The mail for the Livingstonia Mission has arrived from
Scotland, and we learn now from a newspaper that all the Missionaries
that were labouring at Blantyre during the time that the settlement was a
colony have been recalled, and to some extent censured; but the grounds
on which the Directors have proceeded are by no means clear. At all
events the same method if carried out consistently would have recalled
all the Missionaries that had laboured at the two Scotch Missions. The
Church of Scotland through the Blantyre Committee first established a
colonial settlement. While this settlement was in full swing I was asked
to join it as a clergyman. All the Directors ought to have been well
aware that they could not require a minister of the church to act as a
magistrate, or to interfere in such civil jurisdiction. They understood
that the secular department was getting on very successfully, and seem
to have imagined that the colonial government which they had set up
would protect the minister in his special work, just as clergymen and
others are under the protection of the civil powers in Britain. Hence
I had been officially and specially instructed to leave such matters
to the lay agents of the Mission, who were presumably more familiar
with them than clergymen, and when I reached Africa the enormous claims
that the Missionary work of the settlement made upon me left me no time
to consider anything else. If a man desires to be signally useful in
any department of activity, his motto must be “this one thing I do”.
But as the whole subject was now examined by persons that did not know
its special circumstances, I was held responsible for carrying out the
details of a policy in which I never interfered.[11] So far as the
colonial work came under my notice, I had watched it with interest, and I
found that in many respects my own views were entirely against the policy
that had been sanctioned at home.
This morning I went round Ndilande for the purpose of finding a spot
where I could form another Mission Station. It will be a great pity to
leave these poor people because of the censure of Directors who know so
little about the subject.
_May 28._—I went over to visit Mr. Buchanan at Zomba. The inhabitants of
the villages I passed through, all knew that Kapeni’s children had gone
to stay at the Mission Station, and they talked of this as if it had
been quite a new feature in our work. The villagers thought that it was
a great advance and said, ‘O father all our children will now come to
learn!’
On stopping for food in the forenoon, we found that we had no matches,
and it seemed therefore that we could cook no dinner. But the natives
in a few minutes produced fire by friction, and then carried a piece of
burning wood all the rest of the journey. Almost every party of native
travellers has its fire-carrier who is appealed to when his companions
wish to smoke, and who is able to light the fire at a halting-place
without any delay.
I stayed at a spot which is now covered with dense jungle, but on
clearing a space to pitch my tent for the night, I found that there had
once been a village which reached down to the side of a pleasant stream,
but it had been sacked long ago by the Mangoni. At midnight we heard two
hyenas very close to the tent, while about four o’clock in the morning, a
great herd of buck came to the stream to drink.
_May 29._—I reached Zomba about three o’clock in the afternoon and found
Mr. Buchanan looking pale and dispirited on account of the hard sentence
which had been passed against him. He had no idea what the grounds could
be. As we subsequently learned from the best authorities, the so-called
leaders of the Church had feared that the British Government would
enquire into their assumption and exercise of civil jurisdiction: still I
could not appreciate any motives of expediency however urgent that led to
inflict on such an earnest worker so much loss and suffering without the
semblance of a trial. So far as I could judge, every one that carried
out the details of civil punishment felt called to the unpleasant task by
the Church herself, and, indeed the “leaders” now much regretted that the
Church had instructed its agents to act as civil magistrates; but while
they were most generous in sharing the _blame_ they did not seem desirous
to share _the loss and the suffering_, which they were so anxious to
inflict on the Missionaries. Nor did they wait to see whether the latter
had any defence to offer. As I spent that hot day at Zomba, I felt that
a great injustice had been done. I knew the Lay Agents that had been
dismissed and I knew the men that had condemned them. For five years the
former, while devoting all their time and talents to the service of the
heathen, had been obliged to live in hovels, to spend sleepless nights
amidst enemies and many dangers, to battle with discomfort and fever and
hunger, while the latter lived in comfortable homes amidst friends and
relatives. The Missionaries were much puzzled to know where they had done
wrong, and in some cases there were years of their engagements yet to
expire. One might have expected, with Shylock’s judge, that the Church
leaders would have been less hasty even although it had not been ‘in the
bond’. By condemning men whom they had not heard, they had given their
Missionary work in Africa a severe check for several years to come. They
would not however realise this—there is an unfortunate tendency to look
quite as much at the fame of organisations as at the good done among the
heathen.
After considering our prospects we felt that we could easily form a
good Mission in some corner of the vast district. We might have much
difficulty in maintaining ourselves but we were resolved to do what we
could to teach the poor people that we had struggled for so long. For
myself I was greatly in favour of this step, but in case I should find it
expedient to leave for England, I began to revise the native Grammar and
Vocabulary that I had drawn up.
Although civil jurisdiction was now disclaimed by the leaders of the
Church, it was still, as might have been anticipated, exercised at the
Mission Settlement. Every now and then something had to be done which was
liable to be represented as an atrocity. At first the Blantyre villagers
had willingly come forward when their services were required by the
Missionaries, but now they often declined in cases where their aid seemed
indispensible. Even when the deputation was present, these natives were
forced out to do work of this kind. As a general rule, African savages
are blamed for being timorous and easily overawed, but this is not always
true. A man refused on one occasion to do some duty that was required,
and received a message from the Lay Superintendent requesting him to come
up and state what excuse he had to give. But the native refused even to
make this small concession, remarking that ‘he was not the slave of the
Blantyre Settlement’. He was then told that his home would be burned
down, when he replied that he did not care; and the result was that he
sat with his family and looked on till his house was reduced to ashes.
Even this did not banish him from the Settlement. For several days he
was sheltered by certain of the Blantyre villagers, who did so, even
although threatened with a similar punishment. Indeed, natives often
risk a great deal in aiding their friends. Owing perhaps to the paternal
nature of their government, they are more willing to share the punishment
of a relative, however bad he may be, than to turn their backs upon him.
This half-year, one of the Blantyre villagers had given a great amount
of disturbance. When the Lay-Superintendent tried to reason with him,
the native threatened to burn his house. One night an effort was made to
capture the man, and all the fire-arms of the Mission were turned out in
the adventure. It seems that the Mission party expected to capture him
by surrounding his house, but they found that he had escaped, one of the
natives remarking that the “English need not go to capture anyone because
their boots spoke too much” (_i.e._, made too much noise as compared
with the bare feet of the negroes). On this occasion one of the Blantyre
Headmen joined so zealously in the pursuit that he did not go to bed.
Judge the surprise of the Lay-Superintendent when he discovered that in
a few nights after the hunt, the fugitive was the guest of this very
headman!
We still had many instances around us of a rough and ready form of
executing justice which we should have liked to see entirely abolished.
One evening a native, through a piece of very clever, but at the same
time, very mean treachery, stole two valuable rings from an artisan; the
latter felt that if he informed the Superintendent he would certainly
lose his rings, and taking his gun on his shoulder, he marched straight
to the village, where the thief lived, and secured the man’s wife and
daughter and began, with great show of severity, to “beat and confine
in slave sticks”. The headman of that village, who was then returning
from Ndilande, met “all his people calling out ‘murder’!” So much were
the villagers terrified that they were afraid to sleep in their village,
and the headman came in to me with a sad tale. The artisan, however,
recovered the rings, whereas if he had tried to reason calmly, he would
certainly have exposed himself to the ridicule of the natives, who are
too ready to assume that clemency springs from want of power. Nor,
indeed, does the British Government itself resort to reasoning as the
method, of dealing with criminals.
The natives sometimes behaved in a very peculiar manner on the exercise
of such discipline (which is, indeed, the only kind of justice they
are familiar with). A strange case was brought under my notice in the
following way:—On going to a village one Saturday morning, I was greatly
astonished to find all the villagers running away on my approach.
Unless my pupils had shouted out who I was, I should not have found any
one to speak to. But the people all hastened back, and explained why
they had been afraid at the appearance of a white man. A person from
their neighbourhood had stolen, and an artisan, after failing to get
satisfaction, had gone over and set fire to the village where the thief
lived and shot down the fowls. Immediately after this exploit the artisan
found the villagers coming in with presents to him, admitting that they
had done wrong in stealing, and professing their willingness to pay
damages! Native character is sometimes an enigma. On one occasion a
chief stayed for a few days at Blantyre. Several English visitors courted
his friendship very much, and often went a long distance out of their way
in order to shake hands with him when he was drunk; the sable chieftain
laughed at them and called them hard names! A Portuguese gentleman
who was present at the same time, gave the chief no such honour, and
explained that, though acquainted with natives all his days, he had never
shaken hands with one in his life; yet he gained the chieftain’s sincere
respect.
Traits of character like this, force themselves at once upon the
attention of persons that settle among the negroes, and though even a
little experience shows that the native can value goodness, men that have
no love for him, are apt to treat him in a shameful way.
_June 2nd._—Shortly after my return from Zomba, there occurred a
melancholy incident which illustrates the difficulties that may flow from
sending to a Mission men who do not even profess Christianity, and who
are destitute of all education or refinement. A misunderstanding arose
between an artisan and a native headman, and the matter was being settled
by the Lay-Superintendent, when the artisan so far lost his temper, as
to strike the poor headman a violent blow, which covered his face with
blood. The conduct was deplored by everyone, except, perhaps, the actor
himself. But in such cases (which are too common, whether in connection
with Missionary or other settlements) little can be done. The artisan,
if dismissed, has it in his power to stay in the country and give a
great deal of annoyance, while it is not possible to fill his place,
perhaps, for a whole year. Indeed, one often felt the need of a proper
government in such remote places. It was no uncommon thing for an artisan
to threaten to shoot his fellow labourers, and to send them letters
challenging them to deadly combat. Such men, as might be expected, would
treat the natives very badly.
_June 9._—By this time the mail arrived for Blantyre which brought us
further particulars, as to the manner in which the Church had treated all
that were supposed to have any share in the management of the Colony.
We now saw a report in which hearsay matter was published even though
it was the words of a person who had not been present at the events in
question. I found notes that had been taken down from myself quoted
without the explanations I had given and sometimes used to convey a
meaning that was not intended. When I wished to correct these notes on
being asked to testify their substantial correctness, the proceeding
had been demurred to by the deputation who stated that explanations or
corrections could be sent after them. Such corrections in the absence of
the notes of which no copy was left, took the form of a general statement
which was sent afterwards but was never considered. The method in which
many Churches manage their Missions is not encouraging. “A Mission is put
under a committee which although shewing many names in the Reports really
consists of one man. In cases of emergency a Committee of advice is
formed—which gives another man. A Presbyterian Church, by its gradation
of Courts (Presbyteries, Synods, and General Assemblies), secures the
advantage of mature deliberation. But in the treatment of Missions
we find neither Presbyterianism nor Episcopacy nor any known form of
Ecclesiastical Government. The Missionary is liable to be handed over
to a clique composed partly of those that have ‘gained popularity,’ and
partly of men who are held in respect on account of their wealth.” In so
far as Missionary Methods come under a criticism of this kind they should
be re-considered. The cause of Christianity among the heathen is one of
the most important subjects that can occupy the attention of any Church.
In accordance with the wishes of a great many of our old friends in
Scotland, I made up my mind to return home. When I mentioned this all
our natives paid parting visits to us. Many brought what they called
keepsakes (malangano.) Some were very pathetic, one lad was to “save
calico and by and by pay his passage to England”. Bismark had been
promised “an English education” and he wished to go with us. So also
did Ndiagani, a native girl whom we were to educate ourselves. She had
consented to become Bismark’s wife, and he “did not want to marry a
stupid girl that knew nothing”.
After all, I expected to be of some service to the Mission by going home
at this time. Besides having Matthew and Mark ready for the printer, I
had translated the historical parts of the Old Testament, and hoped to
get these printed and illustrated. I had also rendered a great many of
Æsop’s Fables. I thought I should succeed in forming two interesting
books for the school, especially if I could get them well illustrated.
Young natives much appreciate pictorial teaching. I had taken special
pains to see that the language was accurate; all my earlier efforts I
could easily improve upon. Literature is likely to be an important means
of elevating and purifying the native. All Africans from the lad that
writes his grammar exercise to the postman who conveys a written message
in a split wand, have a liking for kalata (letters.) When my last printed
translations came back the boys and girls found out the place where they
were kept before being issued, and would steal an hour from their work or
their play in order to have the pleasure of reading something in their
own tongue.
On the last day of June we said Good-bye to the school children. We found
it unspeakably hard to part with them.