Life Story Of James Hannington: The Merchant's Son Who Was Martyred For Africa
Jane J. Leake
Table of Contents
Chapter 1.
A HAPPY CHILDHOOD.
“The childhood shows the man
As morning shows the day.”
“OH, dearest mother, we have had such a splendid trip," cried the bright happy-faced boy as he bounded into the room, where the dearest of mothers sat in momentary expectation of her boy's return.
“I am so pleased, James," she replied, tenderly kissing the upturned face of her son." I have often thought of you, often prayed for you, often been anxious about you when the wind has howled around the coast.”
“Ah, but mother dear, you need not have been anxious about us. Sam is becoming an excellent sailor, and the slow old tub' behaved splendidly, although I must confess, we sometimes had a good deal of trouble with her when the strong cross currents swept up the channel. Oh, but I love a storm at sea," he cried enthusiastically.
The mother looked anxiously into the fearless face of her lad, and felt troubled. This love of daring, this mischievous recklessness, would, she felt certain, lead to disastrous consequences, if he were not very careful.
“We started at beautiful Brighton, dearest mother; then steered around the Isle of Wight, then right on to the Land's End. The birds which flocked around the cliffs of Cornwall were so grand, mother. I tried to catch a few of them, but they were too active for me.”
“James," replied his mother, with quiet earnestness, "God meant those birds to enjoy their liberty, just as you enjoy yours.”
“Yes, mother, I know; but I love flowers, and birds, and insects, and I want to collect specimens. Some day I may present some to the British Museum, and my name may appear amongst the great naturalists of the country.”
There was a long silence. The boy was cherishing with all a boy's irresistible impetuosity desires which he felt would be pleasing to the mother he loved so much.
“Mother, I want to go to sea," he cried at last, as though unable to keep his secret any longer within his own impatient breast.
“Ah, my dear James, God forbid!" she replied quietly, but with an intensity of feeling which brought tears into her kindly eyes. "God forbid, my son! I have prayed much for guidance for your future life, and I hope He has a different destiny in store for you.”
There was another painful silence, broken at last by the question, “James, do you love me?
The only answer the whole-hearted boy made was to rise quickly from his seat and throw his arms around his mother's neck. For a moment he hung there, and time after time kissed her. It was an incident of a moment only, but the remembrance of it lingered in his memory until that pathetic hour when, on an African plain, close to the borders of the gorgeous Nyanza, he laid down his life like a hero and a martyr.
This boy was Tames Hannington, whose heroic story lights up many a page of the dark history of Africa.
He was born on the 3rd of September, 1847, at Hurstpierpoint—a pretty village in the south of Sussex. Almost everything seemed to unite to make his childhood a happy one. His father, Mr. Charles Smith Hannington, was a Brighton merchant.
Success followed his close application to business.
He became a wealthy man, and wealth gave him a wide opportunity for the enlargement of his generous soul. He was blessed with a numerous family, and though he did not live to rejoice in the great work which has made James' memory a priceless legacy to the world, he did live to see most of his children rise up and call him blessed.
One son died at sea. James wanted to follow the same dangerous career. A love of the sea was inbred in him. It needed all his parents' prayers and exhortations to woo him from his boyish infatuation.
At the time of James' birth, the family occupied the luxuriant mansion of St. George's, Hurstpierpoint.
It stood in its own grounds. Flowers bloomed everywhere, and the birds sang from every tree-top. James spent his happy childhood in this beautiful spot, and a free, unrestrained childhood it was.
One of his greatest delights was to wander through the fields in search of birds and insects and flowers, and to sail his miniature boat on the two tiny ponds which stood close to the house.
James' father owned a small private yacht in which he often took his family on pleasure tours around the Southern coast. These trips were a source of great delight to the boy. He was irrepressible; always getting into mischief; always reckless of danger. He was at once the joy and the torment of his mother, to whom he was drawn by strong ties of affection, which grew all the stronger as the years rolled by. Innumer able stories, illustrating James' mischievous temper anent have been preserved. At seven years of age he fearlessly climbed to the top of the masts of the yacht, and was, on one particular occasion, found suspended from one of the highest arms in a very perilous position. Reproofs and admonitions were unavailing; serious "lectures" on the dangers he incurred by these juvenile pranks had not the least effect. His daring was in his nature, and it remained there until an intense, God-given earnestness made him apply his natural intrepidity in a way which produced glorious and abiding results.
When he was eleven years of age he and his elder brother, Samuel, then nearly seventeen years of age, were allowed by their father to undertake a yachting cruise in the English Channel. It was this happy voyage that filled James' mind with the idea of becoming a sailor. His father and mother had a long and anxious struggle with him before they could conquer this inclination. To a boy of his ardent, fearless temperament, a life on the sea, no doubt, possessed many charms. Eventually he yielded to his parents' wishes. The world has need to thank God that he did so. He would most assuredly have made a brave and skilful seaman. Though he failed most ingloriously in the vocation chosen for him by his father, he was led by devious paths to the accomplishment of a great and glorious work for God and humanity.
Chapter 2.
HARNESSED TO BUSINESS.
“O life! how pleasant in thy morning,
Young fancy's rays the hills adorning
Cold-pausing caution's lesson scorning,
We frisk away,
Like schoolboys at th' expected warning,
To joy and play.”
JAMES HANNINGTON'S boyhood ran out in a happy, heedless fashion. Unlike most boys who have afterward engraved their names deep upon universal history, he cared nothing for books. The great book of nature was the only one he manifested any enthusiasm for. In his boyhood and youthhood, he had not the least ambition to become a distinguished scholar. In fact, he had very little ambition of any kind. Night followed the morning, the end of the years followed the beginning, but they brought very little of serious consequence to the child who had been nursed in the lap of luxury. James Hannington's boyhood was neither interesting nor inspiring. Perhaps its only redeeming feature was his engrossing love for his mother. In all things she was his guide, counselor, and comforter. He would eagerly carry to her choicest specimens which he had picked up in his many rambles through the sweet meadows and along the breezy seashore. The lad was full of childish glee, ever romping, ever laughing, ever in mischief. This characteristic he carried with him almost to his death, although those who were privileged to come within the almost magic sphere of his personal influence after his return from Africa, remarked with pain how much of his playfulness had been destroyed, or at least subdued, by those terrible journeys to and from Lake Nyanza.
In his boyhood James and one of his brothers had a private tutor, with whom, in the summer of 1860, they enjoyed a pleasant tour through the most interesting portions of Wales. Soon afterward, however, this gentleman accepted a curacy, consequently James and Joseph were despatched to a private school at Brighton—eight miles from his home.
During the two years and a half he remained there, the future missionary derived very little advantage. So bold and excitable was he in almost all things, that his companions, ever anxious to establish for a new boy an unenviable cognomen, called him "mad Jim," in memory of his many mischievous transgressions.
In spite of his temperament, he possessed a great, warm, sympathetic heart, that yearned for a greater degree of affection than he generally received. Occasionally, in later life, he indulged in some bitter reflections upon this school. Several times he was caned with disagreeable severity, and on more than one occasion he made up his mind to run away.
And yet he was a great favorite with his school fellows. They admired his cool, intrepid spirit. He was born to be a leader both amongst boys and men. There was a frankness, a boldness, a generosity, a kindliness that endeared him to both scholars and masters. The head-master (though he punished him severely for his wilfulness) endeavored to lead him into a better path. James knew nothing then of the religious fervor which afterward made his life so inspiring. This force entered into his life long afterward-after he attained to manhood.
When he was as fifteen years of age, his father took him from school and placed him in his large business house in Brighton. It soon became evident, painfully evident to his parents, that his heart was not in his work. This was not altogether due to idleness, for in the pursuits which lay near his warm heart he was tremendously diligent. In spite of all his weakness, he was a dutiful son. For the sake of his parents he did all he could to conquer the intricacies of trade, but his young soul revolted against its depressing influences.
He was more or less connected with this business until he attained his majority. But most of his time was spent in traveling hither and thither, chiefly on the Continent. This was his great delight, and in God's good time this boyish recreation became an influence which tended to qualify him for the work—the imperishable work—with which his name will be forever identified.
These oft-recurring trips can only be very briefly glanced at. Just after leaving school he was sent, in the company of his late schoolmaster, Mr. W. H. Gutteridge, for a trip to Paris. The sights he saw appealed forcibly to his vivid imagination. Six months later he had another Continental trip with Mr. Gutteridge.
After one or two brief yachting cruises, James, in March, 1864, joined the 1st Sussex Artillery Volunteers, and in October he and his parents had a yachting trip to the island of Alderney.
About his eighteenth birthday a seriousness concerning religious questions manifested itself. He seemed to be well nigh the kingdom of God, but the time for his entrance was not yet. It is worthy of note that he closed his diary for 1864 with the following original verse—
“My heart, Lord, may I ever raise
To Thee in humble thanks and praise
For keeping me throughout this year,
Lord, guard and guide me while I'm here;
And when to die my time is come,
Oh! take me to Thy heavenly home.”
But after events and later entries in the diary which he faithfully kept almost throughout his life conclusively prove that his heart had not yet been touched with the live coal from the altar. How earnestly he sought for the truth in those days no one will ever know altogether. Only glimpses of his struggles can be got from his writings. Certain it is that Roman Catholicism threw a transient spell over him in the following year, but a sermon by Cardinal Manning completely altered his views. "I shortly afterward gave up all idea of departing from our Protestant faith," is the almost pathetic entry in his diary. Suggestion of these tendencies was made to his parents, who, at that time were prominent members of the Independent body of Nonconformists. Mr. Hannington was at that time generously maintaining out of his private purse a chapel which he erected on his estate, and in which for a long while Nonconformist services were regularly held under the ministry of an Independent pastor.
At the Volunteer review before the Prince and Princess of Wales on Easter Monday, James Harming ton was appointed major of his battalion. On that occasion he nearly met with a violent death through the restiveness of his horse. But he was in God's hands; He had a work for him to accomplish, though his early inclinations seemed to be leading him in an altogether different direction. In May, 1866, he went on a yachting cruise in the Mediterranean with his parents. On returning to England he gave himself up to a life of ease and pleasure. He moved in the highest society. In his own fashion he was ever busy. He had not any positive wickedness in his generous temperament, but he did not feel the least incentive to live a higher or a nobler life. He loved to wander over the meadows, gun in hand, in search of partridge or pheasant. On one occasion he was temporarily, blinded by the explosion of a cartridge; on another, the thumb of his left hand was shot away whilst playing with gunpowder. But these incidents never for a moment interfered with his natural intrepidity.
After a short trip to Paris, he and his brothers had a yachting cruise in the Baltic, during which they visited several of the most interesting sights on the Continent.
This trip closes James Hannington's career as a man of the world. The divine inspiration did not really enter into his heart until a considerable period after this, but henceforth he was a searcher after divine truth. God led him after His own way, and though some of his wanderings may seem inexplicable to mortal vision, he kept his face steadfastly towards light and God.
Chapter 3.
THE TURNING POINT.
“Lead, kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on;
The night is dark, and I am far from home—
Lead Thou me on.
“I was not ever thus, nor prayed that Thou
Should'st lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path, but now,
Lead Thou me on.
"OH, my brethren, the power of the Lord has often been revealed to us in this place. To many of our souls it has been the very gate of heaven. How many of us have found salvation Thou alone, O God, canst tell. The old order is changing. Let the new, O Father, be equally powerful in the bringing of many to the Savior." It was a pathetic service. The servant of God, growing old, looked with sorrow upon the last place of his earthly ministry. That was his farewell to the place he loved so much; the spot from which he had so faithfully, so earnestly preached to the assembled people the unsearchable riches of Christ. Before another Sunday dawned the new regime was in force. The Prayer Book succeeded the extempore prayer which came with all its simple ruggedness from the pastor's heart. Oh, how he prayed! he prayed as only a man can pray when his soul is filled.
Mr. Hart had for a long time held the pastorate of Mr. Hannington's chapel at Hurstpierpoint. But a great change came. Mr. Hannington had leanings towards the Church of England, and took steps to have the chapel licensed by a Bishop of the diocese. It is not necessary to analyze the reasons which led up to this change. Suffice it to say that it was brought about with that gentle tact and kindly thought which always characterize the conduct of a true child of God.
Old Mr. Hart and his wife were amply provided for until the end of their pilgrimage by Mr. Hannington Mt. Hart preached his farewell sermon on Sunday, 26th October, 1867. James Hannington was a member of that congregation.
A new power was quietly working within the young man's heart. Ere long it was to manifest itself in beauty and strength. A good deal, but not all, of his capriciousness was left in the background. He was beginning to see something of the real dignity of living a life of self-sacrifice-a life of devotion to the cause of Christ.
James was brought into very close contact with the gentleman who became curate-in-charge of the church at Hurstpierpoint. The idea of devoting himself to the church grew upon him. The new arrangement commenced on the 14th December, 1867. For three or four months serious questions were uppermost in his mind. He saw the hollowness of the life he lived. He stretched out in the hope of grasping at something nobler—something that might lift him above doubt and despondency, and might make him of real use to those around him.
God's finger was leading him, slowly, perhaps, but very surely. On the 5th July, for the first time, he partook of the Lord's Supper. Before partaking in this solemn service, he had deep, and in many respects, painful heart searching. He analyzed his thoughts and desires with almost merciless severity. He was flagrantly honest before men, and he desired to be so before God. Even after he had partaken of the Communion he was far from being satisfied. The devil still wrestled with him. The combat was long and severe, how long, how severe, no one will ever be able to fully determine. For a long time he was harassed with doubt, and often on the point of giving up in despair. Even whilst this battle was going on he took some part in the work of the Church. He developed a characteristic which was a marked feature of his too brief ministry. He took a very warm interest in the young men of the parish in their aspirations, their toils, and their amusements. He was fervent in prayer, and on his knees wrestled with God for full victory over the doubts that perplexed him.
The autumn of 1868 saw James Hannington enter upon his university career at St. Mary's Hall, Oxford. It was not a brilliant career. He never had a keen relish for the orthodox studies which form a clergy man's mental equipment. There was, too, in his fellow collegians an infection which did not tend to advance him either in his intellectual or spiritual life. He was far from being an industrious student, although in a few "pet" subjects he earned much more than an ordinary degree of efficiency—such subjects as botany (which had been a favorite since childhood), chemistry, natural history, science, and medicine, the latter of which was exceedingly useful to him during his peaceful days as a village curate, and later on, during his history-making months in Africa.
For the usual study of classics he cared nothing. His university period was all too prolonged. At times there was a serious danger of relapsing into the old dull indifference; at other times he was tempted to turn back; at other times his energy and ambition were concentrated on sport. So unsatisfactory were those days at the university that, after a residence of about twelve months, the principal suggested that he should secure a private tutor, and retire into the quiet country where he could complete his studies away from the allurements which are so closely associated with life in a large and more or less fashionable college.
This suggestion was adopted, and soon afterward James Hannington, the man whose faith was afterward strong enough to face the terrors of the Dark Continent, went down to Martinhoe, a quaint village in Devonshire, where he placed himself under the direction of the rector, the Rev. C. Scriven. His geniality, his wholeheartedness, his fearlessness, soon made a vivid and favorable impression upon the simple, honest community. There he indulged his liking for the study of medicine, and frequently exercised his skill with beneficial effect. Moreover, he found constant delight and recreation on the hills and seashore.
Once or twice he returned to Oxford for his examinations. Misfortune dogged his steps. An unusual degree of nervous anxiety prevented him from securing success. At last he suggested to Mr. Striven (with whom he was a great favorite), that he should act as his curate, without stipend, and in the meantime he could study for his degree. The Bishop, however, refused to consent to this course.
It was during his residence at Martinhoe that his mother, whom he often alluded to as "the gentlest mother, the sweetest, dearest mother that ever lived," passed away, after a long illness which was borne with truly Christian resignation. She died on the 26th of February, 1872. Her death was a terrible blow to James. It brought a solemnizing influence into his life. Her beautiful life, her trustful death, were like a beacon light to her son. He was oftener found upon his knees, endeavoring to draw nearer to the God who had sustained his mother through her grievous affliction.
On the 12th of June, 1873, he took his B.A. degree. On 1st March, 1874, he was ordained by the Bishop; on the succeeding Sunday he preached his first sermon. It was in his father's church at Hurstpierpoint. He was not satisfied with his efforts. He described the sermon as "feeble-in fact not quite sound," and tore up the manuscript. Then he went down to Trentishoe to commence his duties as curate of Martinhoe and Trentishoe. He was not yet safe out of the slough of despond. He was still harassed by doubt, but God was leading him into a brighter light and a fuller freedom. It was at this point that a correspondence, commenced by a dear friend of his college days over a year before, was blessed to his soul. With prayer and supplication on his lips and in his heart he burst into the full liberty of the children of God. Then followed a full and complete surrender, a perfect dedication to the service of God.
Chapter 4.
A VILLAGE PASTOR.
“The sweet remembrance of the just
Shall flourish when he sleeps in dust.”
I WILL never read another sermon as long as I live. God has given me a message to deliver to the people, and prayerfully I will trust Him to give me words to clothe the message with. But it will be hard work," he added, after a momentary reflection." To the upright there ariseth light in the darkness' is the precious promise, and if I live near to God He will not fail me.”
The young man sat in his study gravely contemplating a change which exerted a wonderful influence over his own soul, and over the souls of many with whom he came into close contact. James Hannington had risen above perplexing doubts into the clearness of God's promises. Hitherto he had always read his sermons. He often felt that they had fallen cold upon the people. Now he would speak out boldly, He cared little for the higher refinement of language. The salvation of immortal souls was of greater consequence than poesy. He would take up the torch and wave it in such a way that dying men and women must see the light and must be inspired by it. Only once is it recorded that he failed in his extempore preaching, and the failure sent him to his knees to pray for greater strength, greater confidence in the future.
James Hannington's life in beautiful Devonshire was a useful and happy one. There was a healthy contagion about his life and character. He was equally happy in conducting cottage services, or in reading or praying by the bedside of a stricken one. His knowledge of medicine was very valuable to him in his work in those villages where doctors were not too numerous. He was full of earnestness in the Master's service. Then women and children soon learned to love the generous, bright, happy young man who was willing to spend and be spent in his work.
At the age of twenty-seven Mr. Hannington, senior, desired his son to return home as curate-in-charge of St. George's, Hurstpierpoint. The proposal was prayerfully considered. His work in Devonshire was beginning to produce the best fruits. He had great hopes for the future. "Dear Lord, mercifully reveal Thy will in this matter. Be Thou ever my Guardian and Guide," he wrote at the time on a slip of paper on which he had detailed a sort of mental balance. He felt that there was great scope for good work for the Lord in his native village, and he therefore accepted his father's suggestion.
It may here be mentioned that James Hannington possessed from private sources ample means. He therefore refused to accept any stipend. It is very probable that he never accepted a penny during the whole of his ministry. Not only did he refuse stipends, but his purse was ever open at the call of necessity. He very often gave large sums in a quiet unostentatious manner. The sick and the afflicted were in scores of cases the recipients of his goodness. When the missionary spirit entered into his heart he gave one-fifth of his entire income to the furtherance of the object of one society alone. During the last year or two of his life in England he deprived himself of many a luxury and not a few necessities in order to possess means for a larger beneficence. God had touched his heart thoroughly, and an integral part of his Christian principle was to deny himself so that he could minister more fully to the necessities of God's people.
Previous to going to Hurstpierpoint, he decided to spend a short time in a large parish so that he could increase his experience of ministerial work. He therefore went to Darley Abbey, an outskirt of the busy town of Derby, where evangelical work was then being performed by the Rev. J. Dawson and his wife. Whilst at Derby he moved amongst the people in a cordial manner which quickly gained their affection. He took an active part in one or two special missions, and did not shrink from a revival. These periods of special blessing were a source of much pleasure and inspiration to the young man who had completely dedicated himself to the service of God. There was now no hesitation about his extempore preaching. His divinely-inspired message was delivered in bold, earnest, convincing language. Ile often smiled at his occasional violation of the rules of graceful composition, but the message was God's, not his own, and he cared very little indeed for its precise wording. He spoke from his fervent heart, and seldom indeed did his message fail to reach the hearts of his diversified congregations.
An illustration of his adaptability is found in his connection with the Station Breakfast Mission at Derby. This mission has been wonderfully blessed by God. Its history deserves to be written in letters of gold as an inspiring encouragement to others. Only a very brief reference to it can now be given. One of the employees at Derby station persisted in reading his Bible during meal times. His companions scoffed and jeered at him. Eventually he went into a corner of the room and continued his earnest perusal of the sacred Word. Presently a solitary companion joined him. The cruel persecution continued until a small, humble shed was placed at their disposal by the officials. There they continued to read their Bibles in peace. Their number gradually increased, and now over a hundred men are to be found every breakfast time listening to an address on higher things. James Hannington went one morning to listen. The gentleman appointed to deliver the address, however, could not attend, and the future missionary was requested to take his place. Though quite unprepared for such an emergency he spoke with great power, and made a serious impression upon many of these hard-worked railway men to whom the country owes so much.
In November, 1875, Hannington received his M.A. degree, and on the seventh of the same month he commenced his ministry at Hurstpierpoint. This period of his life must be recounted very briefly. He was something more than a country pastor. He was in very deed the father of his flock. To every one in the village he was endeared, especially to the old men and women and children. In spite of his robust mirthfulness he was as gentle as a woman.
For seven years he labored in this quiet sphere of influence. The world knew nothing of him; he knew very little of the world. It is an old truism that the world knows very little of its greatest men. During the latter portion of that period he traveled throughout many counties, holding special missions which were greatly blessed both to his own soul and to others.
How much he sacrificed for the sake of his parishioners will never be known. During his residence at Hurstpierpoint he sold his horse so that he could convert the capacious stable and coach house into a mission and recreation room, and a very large proportion of his income was spent upon the poor and needy.
It is interesting to trace the gradual growth of his missionary instinct. In the early days of his ministry he knew nothing about the claims of the great heathen world. He did not feel the least responsibility in the matter. But God led him on to the accomplishment of His purposes. His soul became fired with the subject; and when he was thoroughly awakened he did all he could to show those around him their privileges and responsibilities.
On the 10th of February, 1877, James Hannington was married to Miss Hankin-Turvin, daughter of Captain James Hankin-Turvin. This lady, along with her mother, had been in the habit of attending the Hurstpierpoint church. She was in every way worthy to be the wife of such a man. No higher praise can possibly be bestowed upon her.
Mr. Hannington, sen., died on the 7th June, 1881, leaving the church to his son.
Hannington's home ministry practically ended with the year 1881. It is true he returned home after his first disastrous journey to the Nyanza, but it was only for a brief period of rest preparatory to going out again to the great, the dark continent, which had temporarily baffled him. He left behind him a quiet but a noble record. By prayer he had prepared himself for his great life's work, and when the supreme time came he bore himself in a manner worthy of a saint and a martyr,
Chapter 5.
HIS HAND ON THE Plow.
IT venerate the man whose heart is warm,
Whose hands are pure, whose doctrine and whose lite
Coincident, exhibit lucid proof
That he is honest in the sacred cause.”
IT has been often said that “the blood of the t martyrs is the seed of the Church." The saying is admirably applicable to Hannington. The story of the tragic death of Lieut. Shergold Smith and Mr. T. O'Neill (two brave members of the Uganda mission of April, 1876), quickened Hannington's desire to become a missionary into newness of life. For three or four years the thought of offering himself had been growing within him. He hesitated to do so because he felt his own unworthiness. During that period he attended several foreign missionary meetings, and preached sermons in support of the same cause. He came gradually to the conviction that God was calling him to the accomplishment of work amongst the heathen.
Lieutenant Smith and Mr. O'Neill met their death some time about the end of 1887. The pathetic story arrived in England early in the following year. In February, 1882, Hannington mentioned his desire to Mr. Cyril Gordon, and a day or two afterward he received a letter from Mr. Wigram, the Hon. Secretary a the C.M.S., offering him a commission abroad. Hannington regarded this as a direct answer to his repeated prayers. Several interviews followed between him and various leaders of the society. The Medical Board passed him with the statement "You are fit to go anywhere." He was overjoyed, and on the 23rd of February, 1882, he definitely offered himself for the Nyanza Mission for a period of not more than five years, on the condition that the Society would supply his place at Hurstpierpoint. Not only did he offer himself without stipend, but he offered £50 towards his outfit, and £ 100 per annum towards his traveling expenses.
At that time he had a wife and three children whom he tenderly loved. It was on their account that he limited his offer of service to five years. What a struggle he had to drag himself away from them, and from his work at Hurstpierpoint! Everyone loved him. Many of them tried to dissuade him from going to Africa. No, he had placed his hand on the plow and he would not turn back. He felt convinced that God's hand was beckoning him onward and he did not hesitate for a moment. The parting from his congregation, and from his wife and children, was full of pathetic incidents that lived in his memory until the end.
Hannington recognized and prayerfully accepted the great responsibilities connected with the position he had taken up. In one of the last sermons he delivered in England, he said: "I should not dare to stand up before you if I believed that I were going out to find work for myself. I firmly believe that I have been sent forth by God. From the beginning I have placed the matter in the hands of God. I dare not weigh my own motives or fathom my own heart, but I ask God to guide me by His Holy Spirit. I pray that if God will not go with me He will not let me go." This was the trustful spirit in which he accepted the call. He left luxury, happiness, everything that the world calls dear, for the sake of fulfilling what he firmly believed was his God-given duty. He was not the man to shrink or turn back when he had once made up his mind, or when his heart had told him that he ought to do a certain work.
At the time Hannington was accepted, Mackay and O'Flaherty were alone at Rubaga. They had sown the precious seed in patience, and hopefully they were anticipating blessed results. The Missionary Society at home determined to reinforce these heroes. Hannington was placed in charge of the reinforcing party, which consisted of the Revs. R. P. Ashe, J. Blackburn, Cyril Gordon, W. J. Edmonds, and an artisan, Mr. C. Wise. A service to bid God-speed to the missionaries was held on the 16th May. 1882, at St James' Hall, Paddington, and on the following day they embarked on the steamship Quetta. Amongst their fellow passengers were ten missionaries of the London Society who were journeying to Lake Tanganyika.
After an uneventful voyage they sighted Zanzibar on the 19th June. Here they had a busy time preparing for the long journey which has baffled and repulsed so many brave and noble men, who cheerfully gave up their lives in their efforts to carry the Gospel to the heathen. That journey was full of a melancholy interest. They were soon brought face to face with dangers which often threatened the total destruction of the whole company. On one occasion their camp narrowly escaped destruction by fire. As early as the 17th July fever broke out and laid nearly all aside. Hannington was the worst sufferer. He was hardly ever free from the deadly symptoms. But he bore his sufferings with heroic fortitude. He struggled on, ever cheerful, ever doing his utmost to assist his afflicted brothers, and to encourage them in their terrible privations.
On the 21st they reached the mission station at Mamboia. At Mpwapwa Hannington again narrowly escaped an awful death, but God was his guard, his shield.
The party suffered much in passing through the dense forest which lies on the road to Khambe. On the 6th August the indefatigable leader was again in the dreadful throes of fever. Bravely they struggled on through a parched land which was infested with wild beasts of almost every description, and Uyui was reached on September 4th. For ten days Hannington lay in almost momentary expectation of death. So ill was he that he was left behind in charge of Mr. Gordon, and the others marched on.
Owing to difficulties with some of the tribes the caravan afterward returned to Uyui. Hannington was so much better that he determined to push on with his companions towards Nyanza, but was still so weak that he had to be carried in a hammock for a long distance. But on he went. He reached the borders of the great lake at last; but fever and dysentery had worked their cruel will upon him. To use his own dismal phrase, "he was done." His body was racked with agony. His companions insisted upon his return to the coast. Tenaciously he struggled against the proposition; but the conviction gradually dawned upon him that though he had beheld the Promised Land he could not enter in. The moment of his turning was full of pathos. His brave heart was almost broken with disappointment. Though he consented to return, he never expected to reach the coast, never expected to see England, and the dear ones, again. But God's providence watched over him. The return journey was almost as terrible as the outward journey.
The others pushed on, and one of them, Mr. Ashe, labored with Mackay for several years in Uganda. Hannington's successful return journey was a miracle of grace. He reached Saadaui on the 8th May, 1883, and on the 12th left Zanzibar for England.
Though in turning back he only accepted the inevitable, he never fully forgave himself. "Forgive the one that turned back," was the plaintive appeal he wrote soon after he reached home. But there was something more than disappointment in his heart. There was a prayerful resolve never to rest until he had redeemed himself—until he had carried the Gospel right into Uganda—until he had again shaken hands with the brave men who had, fearless of their own safety, struggled on to the goal.
Chapter 6.
AGAIN IN AFRICA.
“Truths that wake
To perish never.”
FOR about eighteen months Hannington remained in England. Gradually his robust constitution overcame the terrible drain made upon it by fever and dysentery. With returning strength his intense longing to go back to Africa came again. He was ever energetic in advocating the claims of the African missions in several home circles, and within the short space of three months he several times went up to the headquarters of the Society begging to be allowed to return either to Africa or elsewhere. At first the medical Board decided that he should never return to Africa. The news was a cruel disappointment to him. He had set his heart on the possibility of recovering strength enough to enable him to conquer where he had once been repulsed. His recovery was so rapid that the Medical Board gradually altered their opinion. On 5th December they declared that he was fit to go anywhere—except Africa and Ceylon—at the reception of which tidings he broke into a loud and oft repeated "Hallelujah!”
Of course he was disappointed at being excluded from Africa, but, with all his intense impetuosity he had patience to wait for the fulfillment of the designs of the Lord. Up and down the country he went, pleading the cause of missions. He never seemed to tire. His heart was fully in the work. From his warm heart he spoke, and men listened with that respect which is always shown towards those who have sacrificed and suffered for a noble cause. In the press and on the platform he did much to rouse the sympathy of the people on behalf of his brave brothers, who, in face of terrible persecution, were calmly, heroically holding the fort at Uganda.
Then came to him a great and welcome surprise. Sir Joseph Fayrer, the famous authority on climates, was consulted with regard to Hannington's health. After careful deliberation, he gave his opinion that he might return to Africa with a good prospect of many years' labor. Thereupon the Society offered him the Bishopric of East Equatorial Africa. The position was an extremely responsible one. Hannington was delighted at the prospect of returning to Africa, and accepted the proposal, though he would have much preferred a humbler post.
It was afterward arranged that Mrs. Hannington should follow her husband to Mombasa where they intended to reside, but circumstances afterward overruled these plans.
The Archbishop commissioned Hannington to journey to Africa via the Holy Land, and on 5th November, 1884, he sailed in the Nepaul. He visited Beirut and other places, and preached the gospel both to natives and Europeans, afterward paying brief visits to Damascus and other scenes so dear to the heart of an earnest and thoughtful Bible reader. Palestine was left behind on New-Year's Day, 1885, and after a pleasant voyage he reached Mombasa on the 24th January. The great Continent was once more before him. Its terrible climate had defeated him once. Oh! how he prayed for success this time—for power to be a real helper to the thousands who are suffering under the twin curses of slavery and heathenism.
He had a great deal to do before he set himself to accomplish his great task—to establish a straight line of mission stations from Mombasa to Lake Nyanza. He visited Zanzibar and several other places near the coast. His presence was a stimulus to many who had been working in the Lord's vineyard uncle' very depressing and discouraging circumstances. He worked with wonderful energy. His health remained remarkably good, and he was enabled to travel almost uninterruptedly for the purpose of superintending the various mission stations, and getting all possible information before once more plunging into the terrible interior.
He was almost feverishly anxious to commence his journey, and yet he was equally anxious to adopt every precaution. His zeal for the salvation of Africa was more intense than ever. Great truths had been awakened within his heart, and it was impossible for him to return to indifference.
By and by the idea developed in his thoughtful mind to cross Africa by a new route—from Mombasa, through Taita Kavironde, Kwa Sunda, thus entering Uganda by the north of the Nyanza. He consulted all the great authorities upon the advisability of carrying out this plan. Everyone agreed that it was about six weeks shorter; that it was vastly more healthy and agreeable. The only danger to be feared was the warlike Masai tribe. Hannington, however, was convinced that this difficulty was not an insuperable one. He felt that a warlike tribe was much less dangerous than the feverish swamps, and almost impenetrable forests which had proved so disastrous on his last march into the interior.
In a rapid march to Chagga he picked up information which practically decided him to take the new northern route. As far as can be ascertained only one European had previously traveled over this road. This was Mr. Thomson, the intrepid explorer, whose book, "Through Masai Land," was eagerly read by the noble-hearted missionary.
On his return from Chagga, the Bishop found a large amount of work awaiting him both at Frere Town and Zanzibar.
One of the many interesting acts he performed was his setting apart the first two natives of East Africa: William Jones and Michael Samler. To the former was reserved the duty of accompanying Hannington on his last journey, to which such a pathetic interest is attached. It was not his privilege to follow him to the end, or, in all probability, he would have shared the same martyrdom. A few days before his death, and when on the borders of Uganda, Hannington divided his forces. Leaving Mr. Jones at Kwa Sundi, he picked out fifty men and pushed on. Those two faithful brothers in the sacred cause never met again. To Mr. Jones fell the lot of chronicling the incidents of the last few days of the good Bishop's life, and the painful, yet heroic, story is largely supplemented by Hannington's diary, which was recovered in an almost miraculous manner.
Chapter 7.
THE MARTYR'S CROWN.
THURSDAY, the 23rd July, 1885, was an exceedingly busy day at Rabai. At last, after hard pressure and delay, the caravan was ready to start on its long journey, into a land that was almost absolutely unknown. There were 200 of them in all. Hannington had the greatest difficulty to secure the necessary complement of carriers, as the Masai had inspired all the natives with the utmost terror. Many of them enlisted in the hope of drawing advance pay, and being able to desert before many miles had been covered. A constant watch had to be kept over them until they had advanced far enough to convince the would-be truants that a united advance would be less dangerous than a straggling retreat. As soon as the natives were convinced of this, things went a good deal smoother. But until then, the leader had an anxious, almost sleepless time. His influence over the most abandoned of the company was almost magical. Even such admire nothing more than a strong, fearless man, who could face savage beasts, and even more savage men, without manifesting the least sign of consternation.
Hannington was the very life and soul of that company. He took more than a fair share of work upon his own shoulders, and both by example and precept did all he could to keep up the spirits of those who looked up to him as their guide and their tower of strength. They had to contend against many privations. They often ran woefully short of food, and Hannington frequently had recourse to his gun for the purpose of replenishing their stores.
The party reached Kikumbulin early in August. A pathetic interest is given to this place by reason of the fact that from thence he wrote his last letter to his wife, and also to his friends and co-workers at Frere Town. The former was dated "August 11th. "It is evident from a direct reference therein, that he had very little hope of this communication ever reaching the noble lady who had possessed sufficient courage to give him up to the Lord. But when he met a man who stated that in a short time he intended to make the journey to the coast, he could not deny himself the pleasure of writing a very few lines to the loved ones at home. We may thank God that he was moved to write these letters. They tell of the trustful spirit in which he lived—the trustful spirit that supported him during that last journey, and also during its awful consummation. "The burden of my song must be praise; and the teaching of every lesson has been trust, so comfort your heart during my absence," he wrote to his dear wife. What a precious message from the heart of this dark continent! "I am quite aware that this is the easy part of the journey," he continued, "and that far greater difficulties from hongo-demanding (tribute-demanding) natives are ahead; but if this is God's time for opening up this road, we shall open it up.”
This was the sublime faith in God which has made Hannington's name such a priceless legacy to the world. He would have gone anywhere, or done anything, if by so doing he could have done the will of God.
Then came a long anxious waiting; whilst his friends were anticipating for the details, he had joined the noble army of martyrs, whose deeds sing constant praises unto the God of their salvation. The only details available for the narration of the story to its solemn close is the tiny diary in which Hannington made daily jottings; and also, as before stated, the diary of Mr. Jones. There is an almost entrancing history connected with this small diary. He carried it with him until the conclusion of his self-sacrificing labors. When the last scene closed it fell into the hands of one of his murderers, and afterward it was purchased by a native lad who had found God, as the result of the teaching of Mackay and his companions at Rubaga. From him it found its way to England, in company with Mr. Jones' pencillings. From these two sources the narrative can be carried up to an hour or two of Hannington's tragic death.
On one occasion when they were surrounded by hostile foes and difficulties which seemed almost insurmountable, Mr. Jones blew his whistle and called the caravan men together for worship. Hannington gave them an earnest gospel address, at the conclusion of which these tired, harassed travelers sang together with great heartiness, “Forever with the Lord, Amen, so let it be; Life from the dead is in that word, And immortality.
“Here in the body pent,
Absent from Him I roam,
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent
A day's march nearer home.”
And as they sang, each one of that calm, brave company knew full well that at almost any moment they might reach that Heavenly home of which they so often sang. Some of them, in fact most of them, were destined to pitch their earthly tents for but a few clays longer. Such glimpses as these, revealing as they do so many actions of that pioneer column during the last days of their difficult march, are invaluable. They reveal the spirit which inspired them.
With the Masai tribe the company had very great difficulty. On several occasions large armed bands pressed around the small handful, and threatened to destroy them unless their audacious demands for hongo were instantly complied with. It needed all Hannington's firm courage, as well as his powers of conciliation, to adjust the various complications. Time after time the natives refused to supply them with food, and frequently they were on the verge of starvation.
In Hannington's diary there is a unique illustration of the fatigue which followed his intense exertion in Masai land. On going to bed one night, after a hard day, he took a bite at a biscuit and fell asleep with it in his mouth and the remainder in his hand.
Kwa Sunda was reached early in October. After a short rest, Hannington decided to leave Jones in charge of the caravan, and push forward with fifty picked men. He had sketched out his plan for a long period to come. He intended to cross the Lake from Lussala to Uganda; if any members of the mission desired to return to the coast they could do so by the route he opened up, but he would return by the old route, so that he could visit the churches and mission stations which had been founded along that route. "Man proposes but God disposes." This was one of the many hopes that were living in his active brain when he received his call to higher service. There was an element working against him, which he knew nothing of. He never suspected resistance from the king of Uganda, under whose, more or less, insecure protection Mackay and his brethren had been working for a considerable time. The means of communication were slow and inadequate. Hannington knew nothing of the ferment which was being created by the slave owners, and the believers in the old faith; they had gained the weak king's ear, and into it they dropped insidiously their distilled poison.
The Germans had for a considerable period been notoriously active on the north-east coast. Little by little those who had gained the ear of the king, succeeded in convincing him that they were advancing slowly upon his country for the purpose of annexing it. When the advance of a white man from the north-east was reported to him he became alarmed, and ordered out an armed and ruffianly force to capture and detain him.
Mackay was aware of Hannington's advance. Time after time he endeavored to reason the matter fully with Mwanga. At last he heard that an armed force had been despatched to the north-east. Mackay had every reason to be suspicious of the object of this expedition, but before he could render any assistance the grim tragedy had been completed. Hannington's great soul had been released from its house of clay.
There must always remain a degree of uncertainty over Hannington's death. The various versions which reached home are conflicting. What we know is, that after his eyes had once feasted upon the bosom of the Great Lake which has become the center of missionary enterprise, he was on Wednesday, October 21st, attacked with considerable violence by a large body of armed men. Whilst being subjected to brutal treatment, whilst momentarily expecting to be violently put to death, he sang, "Safe in the arms of Jesus" with perfect composure. For eight days he was detained and guarded in a miserable tent. There he suffered much annoyance and many privations. He was greatly comforted and strengthened by his reading of the 28th and other Psalms. What inspiration he received from constantly dwelling upon, "The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusted in Him, and I am helped. Therefore my heart greatly rejoiceth, and with my song will I praise Him.”
On the last day of his torture he read the 30th Psalm. He died in the confident strength given him by, "I will extol Thee, Lord; for Thou hast lifted me up; and hast not made my foes to rejoice over me. O Lord, my God, I cried unto Thee, and Thou hast healed me.”
At that time fever was fast developing within him; his strength was rapidly declining under the weight of sickness and anxiety; and yet he could rejoice in the promises of his Father.
Then he was led out from his tent. His guards told him word had been received from the King that he should be allowed to proceed on his journey. His heart naturally rejoiced. But after a fatiguing journey he was brought face to face with his comrades. They were stripped, and bound together. In an awful moment the hero was disillusionised. But his unflinching faith made him supreme. With the lofty dignity of a Christian who had lived for his God, and was prepared to die for Him, he spoke a few words—a very few. "Tell the King that I die for Uganda," he said; "I have bought this road with my life.”
Even his executioners, hardened although they were by revels in human blood, shrank from him, and hesitated. In that last moment Hannington knelt down, and in a few words commended his soul to God. Scarcely had he ended his petition before a gun was fired, and spears were plunged into the bodies of the captives. Two men, specially appointed, plunged their weapons into the heart of the devoted James Hannington.
There in the hands of his God, in whom he trusted, and surrounded by a frantic throng, for whom his great heart yearned with pity, we may well leave him. The ordinary terms of eulogium, as applied to Hannington's life and death, are mere commonplaces. The good he did lives after him. The blessings he wrought have gloriously expanded, and are expanding to-day.