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Cornell University Library 
 BV3522.H2 D27 1889 
 
 James Hannlngton, first bishop of easter 
 
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 3 1924 029 348 889 
 
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Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of this bool< is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
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 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://archive.org/details/cu31924029348889 
 
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James Hannington 
 
 D.D., F.L.S, F.R.G.S. p^^T> S '^-«^<1_^ 
 
 FfRST BISHOP OF EASTERN EQUATORUL AFRICA 
 
 A HISTORY 
 OF HIS LIFE AND WORK 
 
 1847— 1885 
 
 E. C. PAWSON, M.A., Oxon. 
 
 INCUMBENT OF iT. THOMAS'S CHURCH, EDINBURGH 
 
 "^ Shnii mi somi am fcnm farimd uriirding to ihi primiflii hi fnfiiiti. Show mi 
 viht n nd and htfpji in djngir md hafpyi dying and haffy ; ixitid and liaffy." 
 
 EPICTETUS 
 
 THIRTIETH THOUSAND 
 
 LONDON 
 SEELEY y CO., 46, 47, y 48, ESSEX STREET, STRAND 
 
 (Laic of Si, FLEET STREET) 
 18S9 
 
 Ml Righli Risimd 
 
.-I "iJ-t ^^ 
 
TO HIS CHILDREN 
 
 THIS RECORD 
 OF 
 
 THEIR FATHER'S LIFE AND WORK 
 
 IS 
 AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 No apology is surely needed for writing the life of James Hanning- 
 ton. If it be true that every life which has been lived conveys to 
 the world some message which should not be lost, much less can 
 we afford to lose the record of a life like his — a devoted life 
 crowned by a heroic death. With regard, however, to my own 
 part in connection with this work, a word or two of explanation 
 may be necessary. 
 
 It seemed to his relatives and friends to be especially desirable 
 that his Memoir should be entrusted to one who had known him 
 personally and intimately. Without this knowledge, his biographer 
 must have failed in presenting him in any recognizable form before 
 the public eye. A mere enumeration of his acts, such as might be 
 easily culled from his diaries, letters, and published articles, or 
 from printed notices regarding him, would convey scarcely any 
 idea at all of the man himself. A verbatim record of his sayings 
 would probably produce an impression utterly false, except to those 
 who knew the speaker and understood the moods in which he 
 uttered them. The materials of which Bishop Hannington was 
 formed were not run into the mould in which ordinary men are 
 shaped. In few things was he just like the majority. Almost 
 everything he said or did was stamped with the impress of his 
 own distinct individuality. That indixiduality his friends now 
 treasure among their most precious memories. They can never 
 dissociate his words from the tone of the voice which accompanied 
 them, or from the sly twinkle, or it might be, the impatient flash of 
 the grey eyes which introduced them. They can never think of 
 his acts without recalling the active, energetic figure, so full of life 
 and movement, which carried through with an inimitable enthu- 
 siasm of forceful purpose whatever was uppermost in his tnind. 
 They would not have had one thing about him different ; but his 
 
vi Preface. 
 
 ways were his own, and his words were his own, and nothing 
 would be easier than that a stranger, by separating his words and 
 his ways from himself, should be perfectly accurate in every state- 
 ment, and yet represent him to the world in a manner which would 
 not only be unsatisfactory, but even misleading and unfair to his 
 memor}'. 
 
 When, therefore, his widow requested me to undertake the 
 editorship of his Life and Work, I accepted the responsibility, 
 trusting that my own intimate knowledge of the man might more 
 than compensate for any want of skill which I might display in 
 the treatment of my subject. Perhaps, also, hoping that my own 
 love for him might enable me to make an appreciative study of 
 his remarkable character. 
 
 It only remains for me to say that, in the compilation of this 
 Memoir, the Bishop's diary has been quoted whenever it has been 
 possible to give the narrative in his own words. I have also to 
 offer my warmest thanks to the Hon. Secretary of the Church 
 Missionary Society, who has placed the whole of the Bishop's 
 official correspondence with the Society at my disposal; and 
 especially to Mr. Eugene Stock, who has most kindly revised such 
 statements as refer to the history of the Society. Other friends 
 have also contributed letters and personal reminiscences, for which 
 I am grateful. 
 
 I now commit this book to the prayers of God's people. It 
 has been my endeavour, in the pages which follow, to let James 
 Hannington reveal himself as he was, in order that those who 
 did not know him in the flesh may learn the secret of that nature 
 which laid so firm a hold upon the hearts of a large circle of 
 devoted friends, and which seldom failed to leave its deep impres- 
 sion upon all those with whom he was associated. 
 
 My own earnest desire is that the example of his noble self- 
 denial may stir up others to emulation, and brace those who read 
 to follow in his footsteps and to "lay aside every weight and run 
 with patience the race that is set before them." 
 
 E. C. D 
 
 Edinburgh, Nov., 1 886, 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. PAGE 
 
 Parentage and Childhodd (1847 — 60) , . .... I 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Schooldays (i860 — 62) ......... 13 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Business and Pleasure (1862 — 67) ....... 17 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Emancipation {1867 — 68) , . . , . ... '3^ 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 Life at Oxford (1868 — 69) 38 
 
 CHAPTER VI, 
 Martinhoe {1870 — 73) . 56 
 
 CFAPTER VII. 
 The Turning Point. — Ordination. — The Great Change (i873-^74) t'g 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Work at Teentishoe and Daeley Abbey (1875) . , . . 88 
 
 CHAPTER IX, 
 St. George's, Hurstpierpoint (1875) lOj 
 
 ' CHAPTER X. 
 
 Home Mission Work and Personal Diary (1875 — 79) . , , 120 
 
viii Contents. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. PAGE 
 
 Home Mission Work and Personal Diary {^continued) (1879 — 82) . 141 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 The Beckoning Hand (1878 — 82) . ..... 160 
 
 PART II. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 The First Missionary Journey. Zanzibar to Mpwapwa (1S82) . lyr 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 Mpwapwa to Uyui (1882) o, 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 L'vui to the Victoria Nyanta (1882) jo^ 
 
 CHAPTER XVJ. 
 The Lake (1882—83) 218 
 
 CHAPTER XVJI. 
 Beaten Back (1883) 
 
 The Second Missionary Journey (1883—84) 
 Trere Town (1885) 
 The K 
 
 ^3' 
 
 CHAPTER XVIIl. 
 
 252 
 
 CHAPTER XIX, 
 
 . 267 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 ^J.ma-n,aro Expedition. -Visit to Chacoa (,885. March, 
 
 ■ • • • • . . 28s 
 
 "T„. w CHAPTER XXr. 
 
 The Work oe a Bishop - (,8S,. Apri._j,,,) 
 
 T- . CHAPTER XXII 
 
 The Last Journey (,885. Juev-October) ' 
 
 o , ^ CHAPTER XXIIJ. 
 
 How It Came to Pass 
 
 • • • • 363 
 
JAMES HANNINGTON. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PARENTAGE AND CHILDHOOD. 
 
 (1847-60.) 
 
 " I judge him of a rectified spirit." 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 " Ring in the valiant man and free, 
 
 The larger heart, the kindlier hand ; 
 Ring out the darkness of the land, 
 Ring in the Christ that is to be." 
 
 In Menioriain. 
 
 There were Hanningtons in England in very early times. 
 Domesday Book records their existence. Whether my dear 
 old friend, whose too brief life I am now trying to set forth, 
 was directly connected with any of these is likely to remain 
 tor ever uncertain. Nor does it greatly signify to know. 
 The chief interest of pedigrees to the wise is, surely, to 
 trace by their help the transmission of certain individual 
 characteristics and the development of them. If, therefore, 
 we do not possess a careful record of the lives and charac- 
 ters of a man's ancestors, we can easily dispense with then- 
 mere names. Those only are of any real value to us whose 
 persons and deeds, manners and words, throw some light 
 upon the life of the man in whom we are interested, and 
 offer some clue to its unravelment. 
 
 The first among the ancestors of James Hanningtcn 
 who steps with any definable form out of the shadows is his 
 great-grandfather. We find the following reference fo him 
 
 I 
 
2 James Hannington. 
 
 in his Journal : — " About the middle of the eighteenth 
 century my great-grandfather -and two brothers sailed in a 
 boat from Dover and came into Shoreham River to seek 
 their fortunes ; in those days, doubtless, a very great under< 
 taking. Here my great-grandfather married a lady of high 
 family. She was the last of the ancient stock of the De 
 Meophams, Saxon nobles in the year 970 A.D., the best 
 known to posterity of whom was Simon De Meopham, 
 sometime Archbishop of Canterbury, whose tomb may be 
 seen in Canterbury Cathedral." 
 
 Of this great-grandfather we wish that more had been 
 recorded, since he seems to have possessed at least one 
 marked characteristic in common with his great-grandson. 
 The diary continues : — "Almost all that I have heard of 
 him is that he was a man of superhuman strength. On one 
 occasion, passing by where a cart was stuck fast in the mud, 
 and six men unable to move it, he bade them stand clear, 
 and lifted it out by himself" Like his descendant James, 
 who was always eagerly to the fore in any accident, or upon 
 any occasion when active assistance was required, he evi- 
 dently could not resist the impulse to step in and bear a hand. 
 After his death, which took place early, the great- 
 grandmother was left with two sons, Charles and Smith 
 Hannington. The elder of these is described as "a man 
 of brilliant talents and inventive genius, but who constantly 
 failed in all his undertakings." In fact, his careless extrava- 
 gance drained his mother's resources, and made it necessary 
 that his younger brother should be apprenticed to a trade 
 in Brighton. 
 
 This younger brother, the grandfather of James, was of 
 different metal : steady, keen and industrious to a wonderful 
 degree. His grandson writes of him: "He toiled in a most 
 marvellous manner." In after days the impression left by 
 the old man upon the younger generation, who were often 
 urged to take example by liim and to walk in his steps, was 
 that of " a shrewd man of business, who never wanted a 
 holiday, and never thought that other people wanted one. 
 Thoroughly liberal, upright and religious ; no man more so • 
 a firm and strict master, greatly loved, but also greatly 
 
Grandfather and Grandson. 3 
 
 feared." In which description, in spite of the unlikeness, we 
 cannot but recognize the texture of the stock from which 
 the subject of this biography was hewn. One trait very 
 remarkably characterized both grandfather and grandson, — a 
 devoted attachment to the mother. This mother-love was a 
 controlling influence of great power in the life of James. He 
 can never write of his mother but his pen frames some new 
 term of endearment. She is to him " the gentlest mother, 
 the sweetest, dearest mother that ever lived." If he is in 
 any trouble, " her darling hand " has always power to soothe 
 him. 
 
 And it is told of the grandfather that, when quite a young 
 man, he had a highly advantageous offer of partnership from 
 the owner of a large business in the North of England, but 
 he refused it, tempting as it was, because his mother could 
 not accompany him, and he would not leave her alone. 
 
 Mr. Smith Hannington married a lady of renowned 
 beauty, of which traces remained even in James's time, and 
 by her had five children, the eldest of whom, the father of 
 James, settled in Brighton and carried on the business which 
 had been there commenced. For some time he continued 
 to reside in Brighton, in accordance with the wise old adage 
 too often neglected in these days, " Prepare thy work with- 
 out, and afterwards build thine house." * There seven 
 children were born, but in the year 1847, just before the 
 birth of James, ability and attention to business having 
 produced their usual result, Mr. Charles Smith Hanning- 
 ton purchased the property of St. George's, Hurstpierpoint, 
 which henceforth became the home of the family. 
 
 James Hannington writes: " I was born on the third of 
 September, 1847. The only peculiar circumstance con- 
 nected with my birth was the fact that my father was in 
 Paris at the time. Can this have anything to do with my 
 passionate love of travelling ? Because none of my brothers 
 seem thus affected." 
 
 Hurst, as the inhabitants call it for brevity's sake, is a 
 pretty little village in the south of Sussex. On the side next 
 
 * Prov. xxiv, 27. 
 
4 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847—60. 
 
 to Brighton, from which it is distant some eight miles, the 
 horizon is bounded by the wavy line of the high downs. 
 Eeyond these, hidden behind their windmill-crowned ram- 
 parts, is the sea. On the other side lies a wide stretch of 
 fair view— such a view as is peculiar to the south of Eng- 
 land. Pretty undulating country, well wooded, here and 
 there the warm red of old brick farm-steadings catching the 
 level rays of the setting sun, and glowing into crimson on 
 tall chimney-stalk and tiled roof ridge; everywhere free 
 flowing curves topped with foliage, melting, in the far 
 distance, into the dim uncertainty oT broken tree-line. 
 
 The mansion of St. George's is pleasantly situated near 
 the entrance to the village. It stands within its own large 
 garden and grounds, At the back a glass door opens upon 
 a flight of wide steps descending to the lawn. All around 
 are shrubberies full of deep nooks, wherein children may 
 hide and play. Not far off- are two lakelets, among the 
 spreading weeds of which, and between the broad lily leaves, 
 myriads of mysterious creatures skim and dart, and send up 
 bubbles to the surface from strange and unknown depths. 
 Then, outside the iron railings which bound the lawn, are 
 the fields spangled \Vith golden buttercups, and beyond all 
 stretches the illimitable country that opens out upon the 
 world. A very child's paradise ! 
 
 Here, there, and everywhere, through this pleasance, 
 went little baby James, with the keenest of inquiring eyes : 
 of that we maybe sure. There was no nook in the grounds, 
 from the holly bush where the blackbird had swung that 
 cunning nest of hers with the four mottled eggs in it, to the 
 bank where the humble bee hurried out from some hole 
 behind the broad dock leaves, into which his paddling, 
 sturdy little feet had not taken him. Before lono- there was 
 no secret of moss or flower or hidden chrysalis, in garden or 
 shrubbery, that had not been probed by his busy, eao-er fingers. 
 He was a born naturalist. One of the earliest sayings of his 
 treasured up and recorded by his father, is, " I have just seen 
 a big bird, which could only be a thrush or an eagle ! " 
 
 To the end of his life he could not resist turnino- aside 
 to see some strange insect, or to note some new plant or 
 
^t. I— 13.] A Young Naturalist. 5 
 
 examine some interesting geological specimen. Of this 
 faculty for observation and interest in that book of Nature, 
 the pages of which are opened wide-spread before him who 
 has eyes to see, we shall find many traces in his letters and 
 journals. " Beetles " and " mosses " always bulked largely 
 in his estimate of the desirability of any spot in which to 
 spend a holiday. 
 
 His very youthful peccadilloes took their form from this 
 early developed love of "specimens." Other boys might 
 steal sugar or jam when the cupboard was by ch.ance left 
 unlocked ; his baby hands itched for the wondrous things 
 behind the glass doors of the library museum. He says, 
 " No portfolio or cabinet was safe from my nasty little 
 fingers." Once it was a rare Babylonian seal, at another 
 time a trayful of selected minerals, which were abstracted, 
 and with much glee hidden away among the miscellaneous 
 articles which formed his peculiar treasure. 
 
 This tendency to observe and " collect " was both in- 
 herited from and encouraged by that " sweetest, dearest 
 mother,''' who made a companion of her wayward, erratic 
 little son, and both fostered and directed his natural love 
 of science in many branches. As he grew older, the 
 delight of James was to pore over the treasures of his ever- 
 increasing cabinets with his mother, and to arrange and 
 classify the specimens and relics which they had collected, 
 during their travels, from land and sea. 
 
 Taking his education, however, as a whole, we can- 
 not feel satisfied that the best plan was adopted in the 
 upbringing of the child. There seems to have been much 
 liberty, checked by an occasional vigorous application of 
 the birch rod, but little systematic teaching or sustained 
 and orderly training. Now, liberty tempered by the birch 
 rod can never be a very safe system under which to bring up 
 any lad, especially a headstrong and passionate boy with a 
 marked individuality like that of our little James. We are 
 inclined to think that a little less of both in the days of his 
 childhood would have saved him the necessity for more than 
 one lesson hard to be learnt in the days of his manhood. 
 
 He himself blames the old-fashioned severity with which 
 
6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847—60. 
 
 any fault, when brought home to him, was punished. " I 
 am not quite certain," he says, " that it did not destroy my 
 moral courage. I have none, and I think that it was from 
 fear that I lost it. To this very day I am afraid out of my 
 wits to ask my father for the simplest thing; and ^yet^I 
 know that there is no likelihood of his refusing me." Ke 
 also attributes a certain reserve of character and unwilling- 
 ness to unfold himself to the inspection of others, to the 
 same cause. With regard to this self-criticism we may say 
 that he perhaps may have been reserved to this extent, 
 that he never found it easy, either by letter or in conversa- 
 tion, to convey to another what he felt most deeply. He 
 was not given to unburdening himself, except to his most 
 chosen intimates, who were the privileged recipients of his 
 confidences. This may have been natural, or it may have 
 been the result of his peculiar training. We are inclined to 
 think that both may be held, in a measure, responsible for 
 it. Lacking in moral courage I do not think he was — 
 certainly not to any conspicuous extent : rather the reverse. 
 It may have been that moral courage was not natural to 
 him. In that case there belongs to him the greater honour 
 of acquiring it. 
 
 The man who is naturally gifted with physical courage 
 has no fear of exposing his body to rude assaults. And 
 perhaps we may define moral courage as a certain fearless- 
 ness in exposing the innet^ self to possible laceration or 
 rebuff. Insensibility to fear is popularly accounted bravery ; 
 but he, surely, is no less brave, rather more so, who, though 
 he vibrates through all his nervous system, and shrinks from 
 exposure to pain or violence, yet schools himself to en- 
 counter them without flinching. And as the courage of that 
 general, who, preparing to lead his men into the hottest fore- 
 front of the battle, thus addressed his tremblintr knees: "Ah! 
 you would quake worse if you only knew where I am going 
 just now to take you," — is justly considered to have b^en of 
 a higher order than the stolid insensibility which carried 
 others calmly enough into the jaws of death — so, he who 
 resolutely masters his moral cowardice, and faces his duty 
 manfully, must be considered the most truly morally brave. 
 
^t. I— 13.] Moral Courage. 7 
 
 If it be true, then, that James Hannington, who possessed 
 the attribute of physical courage in so marked a degree, was 
 naturally deficient in that moral courage which is the more 
 important of the two, we can only say that to him belongs 
 the credit of overcoming his natural weakness in a very mar- 
 vellous manner. To those who observed him closely, there 
 were not wanting signs that it was an effort to him to expose 
 himself — that is, his sensitive, inner self— speaking from the 
 heart to the heart, as must be done when a man wishes to 
 influence another soul. But with whatever severity he may 
 have judged himself, to his friends he always appeared as a 
 man who might be relied upon to do his duty unflinchingly; 
 to speak out what was in his mind, and to abide by the issue. 
 He would sometimes class himself with such characters as 
 Mr. Feeble-Mind, or Mr. Ready-to-Halt ; but to us he 
 appeared rather Mr. Valiant-for-Truth, with his sword ever 
 ready to his hand. 
 
 The mixed and broken nature of his early education 
 had, at least, this advantage. It set him free to think for 
 himself, and possessing as he did unusual powers of observa- 
 tion, and naturally disposed to make use of them, he 
 gained, while still a lad, a sturdy independence of character, 
 and a knowledge of men and things, quite beyond those of 
 his own age. 
 
 The first thirteen years of his life, then, were spent at 
 home, and in travelling and yachting with his parents. 
 
 Many stories are told of his fearless and excitable 
 nature. He was always, with the best intentions, in some 
 mischief. Always on the veige of a serious accident; 
 almost always escaping without much harm done, since 
 the perfectly fearless rarely suffer by their own rashness. 
 It is recorded how, at the age of seven, he clambered 
 unnoticed up the mast of his father's yacht, and was at last 
 discovered high aloft, suspended on some projection by the 
 seat of his trousers. And many other such adventures. He 
 must have kept his mother constantly upon the tiptoe of 
 nervous expectation as to what would happen ne.xt. 
 
 He was eleven years of age when he was permitted to 
 make his first yachting trip alone with his elder brother, 
 
8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847—60. 
 
 Samuel. He says : "My father hired for us a small cutter, 
 of about thirty-two tons. A very slov/ old tub she was, 
 and, therefore, named the 'Antelope.^ Sam was at this 
 time between sixteen and seventeen years old^ but very 
 manly for his age. Everything on board was of the 
 roughest description. We used to wait upon ourselves, 
 make our own beds, and do all that sort of thing. Sea pies 
 and plum dufF were our standing dishes. All this mattered 
 little to us; we were as happy and contented as the days 
 were long. The first day, being slightly qualmish, I lay on 
 the deck in the sun, and the next morning was in the most 
 miserable plight, my whole face one mass of blisters, piteous 
 to behold." So, starting from Brighton, they went round 
 the Isle of Wight, past Portland, and as far as the 
 Land's End ; visiting Torquay, Dartmouth, Penzance, 
 St. Michael's Mount, and almost every place of interest 
 accessible to them. The brothers also made an excursion to 
 the famous Log2:an Rock, hard by the Land's End ; and 
 James tells the story of that unfortunate practical joker who 
 paid so dearly for his folly — that Lieutenant of a Revenue 
 Cutter, who landed a party to throw the great rocking-stone 
 over the cliff, " to make a grand splash." He only suc- 
 ceeded in m.oving the mass a few inches, but it rocked na 
 more. The owner of an inn, to which the balanced stone 
 attracted visitors, sued the luckless lieutenant for damages, 
 and he was condemned to replace the stone in its original 
 position. This he did with partial success, but only by 
 special machinery, and at such cost that "he was reduced to 
 beggary." James draws a suitable moral from this, and con- 
 cludes : " Alas ! I am scarcely in a position to preach ; I 
 have been so fond of playing practical jokes myself." He 
 continues : "We returned in our own time to the Isle of 
 Wight. My father came down to Portsmouth and settled 
 with Redman (the captain and owner). That very ni^ht I 
 was awaked by a great disturbance on deck, a crash of 
 bottles, and a sound as of fumbling in our wine locker. 
 Ah 1 I always told Sam, thought I, that our wine went too 
 fast ; there they are in the act. Urchin as I was, I don't 
 think that, in those days, I knew fear. I struck a light 
 
^t. I— 13.] First Yachting Trip. 9 
 
 never went to see whether Sam was awake, but marched 
 into the forecastle and looked at the men. They were both 
 sound asleep, and a stranger lying on the floor asleep too. 
 I then slipped up the forecastle ladder, and should have 
 sallied right up to the offending parties, had not Sam waked 
 and seen me, and called me back, fearing I might get hurt. 
 I had, however, time to see' old Redman fearfully tipsy ; a 
 woman with him on deck, and a man in a boat holding on 
 by the side. As I did not dare disobey Sam, I crept back 
 into bed, and we heard the woman say, ' I zvill have the 
 silver spoon, uncle Joe ; give us the silver spoon.' Here 
 the boatman interposed, saying it was past three o'clock, 
 and he would wait no longer ; so the female had to go 
 without the spoon, and Redman stumbled down to his bin, 
 amid straw and broken bottles. Next morning, daring 
 young imp, I called him out of his berth before 1 was 
 dressed. However, he did not appear until about one 
 o'clock, and tried to look as if nothing had happened. Sam 
 did not quite know how to introduce the subject ; we were 
 both very young, and did not like to rebuke such an elderly 
 sinner. At last I went up to him with all the assurance of 
 eleven years, and asked him before everybody why his niece 
 wanted our silver spoon. He tried to look surprised, and 
 said, ' I don't understand you, sir ! ' But Sam now found 
 his opportunity, and opened up the subject till Redman was, 
 I remember, ready to drop on his knees that nothing more 
 might be said. We forgave him. We had enjoyed the 
 cruise beyond measure, and the little adventure of 'Uncle 
 Joe' only added spice to it." 
 
 The result of this trip was that young James quite made 
 up his mind to " go to sea." This might, perhaps, have been 
 his lot, but the death at sea of an elder brother had determined 
 his parents not to allow another son to enter the navy. So 
 the country lost a daring seaman, but she has gained thereby 
 the priceless legacy of the memory of a Christian martyr. 
 
 Another adventure we must chronicle, not merely as 
 illustrating the courage of the boy, but as explaining a 
 conspicuous physical defect — the absence of the thumb upon 
 his left hand. 
 
lo James Hannington. [A.D. 1S47— 60. 
 
 He was bent upon taking a wasp's nest, and had just 
 been initiated into the mystery of making damp gunpowder 
 squibs, or " blue devils." Full of his new acquirement, he 
 sought out Joe, the keeper's son, and together they got^pos- 
 sessionof a broken powder-flask. "In a few minutes," he 
 says, " blue devils were in a state of readiness, but we must 
 needs, before starting, try one with touch-paper. The 
 result was not so satisfactory as we had expected, and Joe 
 Simmons says I tried to pour a little powder on the top of 
 it. The spring of the flask was broken, and in an instant a 
 terrific explosion took place. The flask was blown to 
 atoms, and I was to be seen skipping about, shaking my 
 hand as if twenty wasps were settling on it. Simmons 
 senior rushed up at the report, and binding up my hand in 
 his handkerchief, led me off to the house, about a quarter of 
 a mile distant, my hand all the while streaming with blood, 
 so as to leave a long red streak in the road. When I 
 reached the garden I was so faint that Miles, the gardener, 
 took me up and carried me. The first person I met was my 
 mother. She at once saw that something v/as wrong, and, 
 in spite of my saying that I had only cut my finger a little, 
 she sent off for the doctor. I was soon under chloroform, 
 and my thumb was amputated. It was quite shattered, and 
 only hanging by the skin. I was very prostrate from the 
 great loss cf blood, but. through the mercv of God, I soon 
 got well again. I never suffered with the lost thumb, I 
 may say, at all. I used to feel the cold in it; but that also 
 has passed away, although even now I cannot bear a blow 
 upon it without considerable pain. It is a great wonder that 
 I was not taken off by tetanus ! " 
 
 About a year after this, in the summer of i860, James 
 went with one of his brothers and their tutor for a tour 
 through Wales. One or two extracts from his diary are 
 worth quoting, as instancing that keen sense of humour 
 which was one of his striking characteristics. Upon the 
 top of a coach, near Aberystwith, they encountered a certain 
 Unitarian. At him the tutor, a young man reading for 
 orders, straightway launched himself. The conflict was an 
 unequal one. The stranger turned out to be the " father 
 
^t. I— 13-] Sense of Hiuitour. ii 
 
 of two senior wranglers, whom he had educated himself." 
 The fiery orthodoxy of the tutor, in spite of his newly- 
 acquired theological battery, was no match for the dogmatism 
 of the father of the wranglers. James writes, evidently 
 
 with gleeful remembrance of the scene : " Mr. rushed 
 
 at him single-handed; words waxed very warm; the Uni- 
 tarian's arms flew about like the sweeps of a windmill. We 
 were ordered not to listen to the profane babbler, but we 
 could not help hearing our tutor scream in a very loud voice, 
 ' But you won't let me get a word in edgeways.' '■ And I 
 don't mean to,' replied his adversary, in still louder tones. I 
 fear he had the fight pretty much his own way, for our 
 tutor said that he was a nasty, rude man, and forbade us to 
 speak to him again," Do we not see them ? That raw 
 young man, with his thin veneering of theological lore, 
 and that hot-blooded Welsh mathematician, butting against 
 each other in direst conflict? 
 
 Again, how graphically he tells the story of that abo- 
 minable old Welshwoman, " an ancient dame, rheumatic and 
 lame," who " was got on top of the coach by means of a 
 ladder and ropes, two or three men pushing and pulling 
 with all their might" ! The driver, an ex-colonel in the 
 army, rated at the old dame, and " vowed he would not 
 stop the coach for such a time. However, they at last 
 got her up, and she sat coughing and groaning. We soon 
 began to speculate about her descent, and it became a matter 
 of conjecture as to how she was to be got down. Two or 
 three hours afterwards we arrived at Harlech, and the horses 
 were changed. While this was beina; done the colonel and 
 other passengers darted in to get some refreshment. Old 
 mother was cruelly left on the box to take care of herself. 
 Thinking, of course, that she was safely housed, the money 
 for her fare had not been taken. Not two minutes elapsed — 
 in fact, the colonel only gave himself time to swallow a hasty 
 glass of beer, when he returned to look at his new team. 
 Lo ! that ancient dame had jumped down, baskets, bundles, 
 and all, and had given him the slip. Jf he cursed her iji his 
 heart because she took such a long time to get up, he cursed 
 her ten times more because she took such a short time to 
 
12 James Hannington. [A.D. 1847—60. 
 
 get down ! It was the joke of the day — even the colonel 
 could not help laughing, although he had lost his money." 
 
 Poor little James had now reached the age when 
 children begin to be uncomfortably conscious of their 
 own personal appearance and deficiencies. Though he 
 was in later life singularly free from susceptibility of this 
 kind, and never seemed to wince beneath any most pointed 
 personalities that might be thrust at him by maliciously- 
 minded friends, there is a touch of boyish pain in the fol- 
 lowing record. An overflow of third-class passengers had 
 filled tlieir compartment with a number of roysterers, who 
 cursed and swore forth profane vulgarities all the way home. 
 " I perfectly well recollect," he writes, " that one of these 
 cursers, much to my annoyance, noticed that I had lost my 
 thumb, and I was very impressed, as he was the first 
 stran2;er" (brutal fellow!) "that had remarked it to me." 
 
CHAPTER II. 
 
 SCHOOLDAYS. 
 (1860 — 62.) 
 
 '■' My bonnie laddie 's young, but he 's growin' yet." 
 
 Old Scotch BaUad. 
 
 Very shortly after the Welsh tour referred to in the last 
 chapter, the tutor left to take a curacy. What was to be 
 done with the boys ? James was now thirteen, and not 
 very easy for a tutor to manage. Good-natured and 
 warm-hearted, but withal quick tempered, and an inveterate 
 tease : capable of great industry when the subject — as that 
 of natural history — interested him ; but otherwise seemingly 
 incorrigibly idle, and utterly averse to apply himself to the 
 dull routine of the classical mill : it was evident to his 
 parents that he and his brother Joseph ought to go to 
 school. It was only, however, after long thought and some 
 demur that it was finally decided that they should enter the 
 Temple School at Brighton. 
 
 " Alas ! " he writes, "it was only a private school, and 
 we were allowed to go home every Saturday to stop till 
 Monday morning." 
 
 The home-bred boy was at first, naturally enough, very 
 unhappy. The memory of the day when he was left, pale, 
 nervous, and shivering, in the schoolroom, among his new 
 companions, always clung to him. Do not most of us 
 recall such a moment ? The kindly manner of the head- 
 master, however, made things easier for both the brothers, 
 and they soon fell into their places. 
 
 Hannington criticizes with some severity the private 
 tutor and private school system, with frequent visits home, 
 under which, by a mistaken kindness, he had been brought 
 up. He writes in his journal, " I knew absolutely nothing, 
 
14 James Hannington. [A.D. 1860—2. 
 
 the result of private tutorage, and I was put into the fourth 
 class^ which was bottom but one." Again, speaking of the 
 time when he left school, he adds : " I only remained at 
 school until I was fifteen and a half, and then left for busi- 
 ness, with as bad an education as possible ; I may say as bad 
 as my father's was good. I was no more (it to leave school 
 than to fly, and yet I was then in the first class. So much 
 for private tutors and private schools. I believe that both 
 systems are equally pernicious." All of which I transcribe 
 without either endorsing the opinion or otherwise, except so 
 far as to remind the reader that what is one boy's poison 
 may be another boy's food. As regards a boy of Hanning- 
 ton's tvpe, it can scarcely be doubted that the system he 
 condemns was open to serious objections. As he says of 
 himself: "I was naturally idle, and would not learn of 
 myself, and I was unfortunate enough always to be sent to 
 places where I was not driven to learn. Would that I had 
 been driven ! " In the later years of his short life, his 
 industry and application were unwearied and immense. No 
 one could accuse him of trifling with his time, or of the 
 smallest degree of self-indulgence. He was scrupulously 
 painstaking in the execution of any work which he under- 
 took, and his undertakings he meted out to himself with no 
 scant hand. But no one can doubt that his university 
 course, upon which so much of a man's future depends, 
 would have been quite other than it was, perhaps even a 
 brilliant one, had he possessed the advantage of a more 
 thorough and systematic early training. 
 
 Hannington had plenty of intelligence ; was as sharp as 
 a needle ; quick to learn what he chose to learn; and what 
 he once learned he always retained. Volatile and excitable 
 as he was, he could be serious enough when the occasion 
 seemed to demand it, and in the midst of all his extrava- 
 gances a certain solid good sense generally kept hi)n within 
 bounds, so that he never committed any act which could 
 cause himself or others serious regret. He soon became a 
 prime favourite at school, both with the masters and boys. 
 That the former should have been the case is more strange 
 than the latter. He soon proved himself to be a confirmed 
 
^t. 13—15.] School Fights. ic 
 
 "pickle." He thus reports himself : "I was always very 
 excitable and noisy, and was called ' Mad Jim.' In fact, 
 I was one day reported to the Head-Master as ' verging on 
 insanity,' and was severely punished." He once lit a 
 bonfire in the middle of his dormitory ; at another time 
 pelted the German Master with his rejected papers ; and 
 we are not much surprised to learn that, on one particularly 
 unlucky day, he was "caned more than a dozen times," 
 till, smarting in every inch of his body, he had serious 
 thoughts of running away. 
 
 The Head-Master, however, was most judicious and 
 kind. Whatever was lacking in his pupil's education, the 
 fault could not be laid upon the threshold of the pedagogue. 
 He liked the giddy boy, into whose truly lovable nature he 
 saw, and easily secured his affection in return. Hannington 
 was sensitively conscientious and trustworthy. Hatred of a 
 lie was inborn and inbred in him. He might always be 
 entirely relied upon to carry out anything that he had once 
 undertaken, and that not only in the letter, but in the spirit. 
 His word was, in the most rigid sense, his bond. This 
 fidelity of mind was developed in him very early. 
 
 The following instance seems quite a remarkable one of 
 a schoolboy's endurance for conscience' sake. 
 
 Every school has its bully. A certain R. R. filled this 
 ivle during the time Hannington was at the Temple School. 
 Being rash enough to attack this boy, Hannington got, what 
 perhaps upon that occasion he richly deserved, a tremendous 
 thrashing. Both of his eyes were closed up, and sundry 
 egg-like bumps upon his head bore witness to the hardness 
 of his adversary's fists. That same afternoon he, unluckily, 
 had to go home to pay his weekly visit. Horrified at the 
 dreadful appearance of her son, his mother made him 
 promise that he would never fight again. 
 
 Now, there never was one more absolutely devoid of 
 physical fear than James Hannington. Yet, holding him- 
 self bound by that promise of his, he returned to school 
 defenceless. Everyone knows what must be the fate of a 
 schoolboy when once the young imps about him have 
 clearly ascertained that he will not fight. He was soon 
 
i6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1860—2. 
 
 made thoroughly wretched. His pusillanimity, for such it 
 seemed, was taken advantage of in every way. He went 
 about like a muzzled mastiff, submitting to be treated by 
 his tormentors like a coward and a cur. 
 
 At last he could stand it no longer. "One 'day/' he 
 says, " I had allowed myself to be bullied nearly to death 
 by B. P., a boy about my own size, when all of a sudden I 
 turned round and said, to the astonishment of the whole 
 school, that I would fight him. He was backed by his 
 cousin, only son of Baron P. ; I don't think I had anybody 
 to back me, but I very soon gave him a thrashing, and I 
 never recollect being bullied afterwards." He always 
 remembered chat act as a " broken promise," but who can 
 doubt that such a promise was a greater burden laid upon a 
 schoolboy's shoulders than he could be reasonably expected 
 to bear ! 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 BUSINESS AND PLEASURE. 
 
 (1862—67.) 
 
 " Always roaming with a hungry heart, 
 Much have I seen and known." 
 
 Ulysses. 
 " One has to spend so many years in learning how to be happy." 
 
 George Eliot. 
 
 It too often happens in life that the square man is put into 
 the round hole ; and not only put there, but rammed down 
 into the hole, and worked back and forth in it, until his 
 angles have somewhat accommodated themselves to the 
 misfit. So the wheels of life go round, somehow, not 
 without a good deal of friction, and some expostulatory 
 creaking. Happily the subject of this memoir proved alto- 
 gether too polygonal to be fitted, by any most careful easing 
 whatever, into the hole which circumstances seemed to have 
 prepared for him. He already possessed a moderate com- 
 petence. The portion of goods that belonged, or would 
 belong to him was likely to be sufficient for his wants. 
 But the road to fortune lay plainly through the counting- 
 house, and his father's established and high-class place of 
 business. 
 
 To the counting-house at Brighton, then, he was sent 
 at the age of fifteen, and there he remained more or less 
 during six years. He was wholly unsuited, by almost every 
 characteristic he possessed, for the monotonous routine of a 
 commercial life. Generous, impulsive, erratic, the careful 
 men who managed that great business house, had thev 
 taken him into partnership, v/ould have discovered before 
 long that they had bound a very zebra to their cart yoke. 
 " Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow ;■ 
 or will he harrow the valleys after thee ? " The experi- 
 
 3 
 
i8 Jajnes Hannington. [A.D. 1863. 
 
 ment has often been tried. The result has, we venture to 
 say, seldom been satisfactory. Happily, in Hannington s 
 case, the " fork " was not too persistently applied to that 
 ever-recurrin2; nature of his. After six years he was a'Jo'^ed 
 to choose fhat path for which the Divine Hand had 
 fashioned him. 
 
 On looking through the record of these six years they 
 seem to have been filled up with almost more pleasurmg 
 than " business." Hannington writes •. " As soon as I left 
 school I was allowed to go with my late master, W. H, 
 Gutteridge, on a trip to Paris. I was intensely delighted ; 
 so much so that at first I could scarcely realize it. Once, 
 when a little boy, having caught an unusually fine fish, 
 thinking that I must be asleep and dreaming, I pinched my- 
 self as hard as I could, and repeated the pinch two or three 
 times, to make quite certain that I was awake. And now, 
 as I stepped on board the steamer at Newhaven, I felt 
 much the same inclination to pinch myself, it seemed so 
 impossible that I v/as really on my way to spend six or 
 eight weeks abroad. Visions of cardinals shut up in cages, 
 of the horrors of revolutions, the Hunchback of Notre 
 Dame, the Morgue, magnificent chocolate shops, all these 
 and more confusedly floated through my brain." A 
 marginal note to the diary, evidently written much later, 
 adds what was always a dominant thought with him, "My 
 dearest of mothers was pleased too, and I think that know- 
 ing this gave me such great joy." 
 
 This trip is described in his notes at great length. No 
 doubt all the information those notes contain can be 
 gathered from a guide book, but it is not too much to say 
 that few guide books, drawn up by experienced and profes- 
 sional travellers, could give much more information, or pay 
 minuter attention to details than does the diary of this boy 
 of fifteen. There was almost nothing in the towns he 
 visited which he did not see, and, what" is more, which he 
 did not think worth the seeing. He was at this time very 
 far from bemg a mere gaping schoolboy. If he did not yei 
 see much beneath the shell of things, he at least took an 
 intelligent interest in everything. He congratulates himsell 
 
^t. 1 6.] First Visit to Paris. 
 
 19 
 
 upon having had such an excellent travelling companion 
 as Mr. Gutteridge; but we might also congratulate Mr. 
 Gutteridge himself upon the companionship of that uncon- 
 ventionally fresh young mind. 
 
 They went to a boarding-house kept by a certain 
 Madame Boys, from whence he writes to his mother : — 
 
 " Dearest Mamma, — You will be very glad to hear 
 that we had a capital passage. We played chess on board 
 the steamer all the time : neither of us sick. We went to 
 church Christmas morning at the Ambassador's Chapel, 
 and to the Madeleine in the afternoon. We had a very 
 grand dinner party in the evening. Madame Boys is a kind, 
 good-natured, vulgar, blowing-up-servants little woman — 
 all very desirable points to make me happy. I mean to 
 bring you home six snails with rich plum pudding stuffing 
 in them. With my very best love to all, especially papa. 
 Your affectionate son, James Hannington." 
 
 The Archbishop of Paris was just at this time at the 
 point of death. The following thoroughly boyish remark 
 occurs in one of James's letters home: "I am rather glad 
 that the Archbishop is dead ; we are going to see him lying 
 in state." Which they accordingly did, and his funeral 
 afterwards. They missed nothing, these two. 
 
 A short six months were now spent in the house of- 
 business, and then another trip abroad with Mr. Gutteridge 
 was planned and carried out. 
 
 This time they went to Brussels, Antwerp, Luxem- 
 bourg, Treves, and many other places, about all of which 
 Hannington has much to say. Nothing escaped his obser- 
 vant eyes, and everything was carefully noted in his pocket- 
 book. At Wiesbaden he notes (the gaming tables were 
 then in full swing) : " Those who seemed to be regular pro- 
 fessional gamblers were the ugliest set of people that I ever 
 saw in my life. A gambling table is a curious sight. I 
 recollected those awfully eager and ugly faces for many a 
 long day." 
 
 From Wiesbaden and Frankfort the travellers made their 
 way to Baden Baden, "nestling in the heart of the Black 
 
20 James Hannington. [A.D. 1863- 
 
 Forest like a beautiful but deadly snake on a bank of purple 
 violets." 
 
 Then on to Lucerne, whose fairy-like charms seem to 
 have inspired the following not unmusical verse : 
 " Oh ! for a painter's brush, or poet's pen. 
 
 That I might now pourtray 
 
 The glories I saw then. 
 
 The silver moon, the cloudless starlit sky. 
 
 The deep, the rippling lake ; 
 
 Grim Pilate standing by, 
 
 Hoar- white his rugged peak with glistening snow, 
 
 Like some fierce lion's fang, 
 
 Unbared to meet the foe." 
 From the Wengern Alp James saw his first avalanche, 
 with which, having, like most travellers, formed marvellous 
 conceptions of falling mountains, he was at first rather dis- 
 appointed. He saw the great Rhone Glacier, not then 
 shrunk to its present lesser proportions. From thence the 
 two crossed over the St. Gothard Pass into Italy, saw the 
 Lakes and Milan, and penetrated as far as Venice. Re- 
 turning across the Simplon, they visited Chamounix, and 
 made a glacier excursion as far as the " Jardin," an excursion 
 no less fascinating because so often " done.'^ Thence 
 home by Geneva and Paiis. The whole trip of two 
 months (June and July of 1863) was evidently not wasted 
 upon the boy, but was a real factor in his education. 
 
 The First of September that followed w as a notable day 
 in the lad's diary, ile was allowed to take out a game- 
 license tor the first time, and shot his first bird. The 
 occurrence was, moreover, impressed upon his memory by 
 the explosion of a cartridge in the opened breech of his gun, 
 whereby his face was severely cut and burnt, and for some 
 little time he was quite blinded. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Hannington had now taken to a yachting 
 life, and spent much of their time on board. James, who 
 was devoted to the sea and its adventures, was frequently 
 passing backwards and forwards between Portsmouth, where 
 the yacht often lay, and Brighton. 
 
 ^'■Sunday, Nov. i.fi', 1 863.— Caught in a tremendous 
 squall returning from church at Portsmouth. Never was 
 
^t. 17, 18.] Yachting. 21 
 
 there such a churchgoer as my mother. She simply would 
 go if it was possible. I wonder that we never capsized 
 during those rough-weather journeys." 
 
 The next entry in his diary records his commission as 
 second lieutenant in the ist Sussex Artillery Volunteers. 
 
 '■'■March z%th, 1864. — A4y first day in uniform." 
 '■'■ June wth. — Rapid progress in soldiering. Battalion 
 inspected, and I had command of my company." 
 
 Hannington made an excellent artillery officer. He was 
 a great favourite with the men, from whom, however, he 
 exacted implicit obedience. He early displayed considerable 
 organizing power ; and always gave that attention to seem- 
 ingly trifling details which goes so far to ensure the success 
 of any undertaking. 
 
 July and the first week of August of this year were 
 spent on board the yacht Zelia, and in a continental tour 
 with his parents through part of France, Germany, and 
 Switzerland. His taste for travel was as keen as ever ; and 
 everything was noted in the never -absent pocket-book for 
 future reference. 
 
 '■'■Aug. nth. — My father gave me a single-barrel 
 breech-loader gun; 17 guineas. My delight is great." 
 
 " Sept. yd. — My seventeenth birthday. Shot eighteen 
 brace of birds, four hares, one landrail. 5 feet 10 inches high, 
 weight II stone 6 lb. Sam gave me a garnet ring; Phil a 
 gold locket." 
 
 In October of the same year he was with his parents in 
 another yachting excursion. They visited the island of 
 Alderney, and, in spite of very rough weather, managed to 
 enjoy themselves. James writes while they were still off 
 Portsmouth : 
 
 " Saturday., the i%nd. — Weather looks worse, though sea 
 rather smoother. Landed in boat, and, returning, got caught 
 in a terrific squall, and had great difficulty in reaching the 
 yacht. Found mother and the crew greatly frightened for 
 us ; the former in tears. We were an hour behind our 
 time." 
 
2 2 James Hannington. [A.D. 1S64, 5- 
 
 " Sunday^ the z^rd.— It blew furiously. No landing for 
 church. Which means that it did blow." 
 
 ' Coming home across the choppy waters of the Channel 
 they were nearly cut down by the West Indian Packet just 
 as they entered the Needles. "We had watched her ap- 
 proaching for more than an hour, and as we were beatmg 
 up on the right tack, and every foot was of importance to 
 us, the captain trusted to her giving way, but she evidently 
 expected us to do the same, and kept on. The huge 
 monster dashed by within a few feet of us. The men 
 shouted, and my father as coolly as possible fired a blue 
 light, and we were saved." 
 
 The following entry appears in the diary for December 
 30th : — " Father went on deck with five sovereigns in one 
 hand and the paper in which they had been wrapped in the 
 other. He threw the sovereigns overboard and kept the 
 paper. He was much vexed." 
 
 The verses which conclude his diary for 1S64 show that, 
 though he might not at that time have had any real and vital 
 religion, yet that he was religiously minded, and not dis- 
 inclined to think seriously. They are worth quoting. 
 
 " 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." 
 
 A further proof that his mind was beginning to bestir 
 itself, and his spirit to grope after something reliable upon 
 which it might lay hold, is to be found in the remarkable entry 
 made against March 6th, 1865. "Left off mourning for 
 Cardinal Wiseman.'^ He adds a little later : "The fact is 
 that about this time I nearly turned Roman Catholic ; but 
 my faith was much shaken by reading Cardinal Manning's 
 funeral sermon for the above. Also by his own last words, 
 ' Let me have all the Church can do for me.' I seemed to 
 see at once that if the highest ecclesiastic stood thus in need 
 of external rites on his death-bed, the system must be 
 
JEt. 1 8.] Nearly Turned Roman Catholic. 23 
 
 rotten, and I shortly after gave up all idea of departing from 
 our Protestant faith." 
 
 Only once again did he ever experience any leaning 
 toward the Roman Church, when for a single moment 
 he thought that he recognized in the quiet seclusion of a 
 certain cloister the soil suitable for the growth of the 
 spiritual life, then working still more restlessly within him. 
 But, in sooth, James Hannington would never have made a 
 "good" Catholic of the Roman type, much less a monk 
 who would have been tolerated for a single day by any 
 " Superior." He was never wont to " think by the 
 bonnet," * and his sturdy independence of reasoning, and 
 sound, masculine common sense, would have soon burst 
 through the cramping enswathements of the Roman system, 
 or procured him a speedy and emphatic eviction out of that 
 fold. All this time scarcely a single entry in the diary refers 
 to the " business." Almost all his time seems to have been 
 spent on board the yacht. Evidently James was far more 
 keen to cultivate "horny hands and weather-beaten 
 haffets " t in many a conflict with the salt-laden winds and 
 blue racing waves of the open Channel, than a bold com- 
 mercial style of penmanship, and an automatic accuracy in 
 totting up figures. He says with some pride : " I can now 
 sail a boat uncommonly well. To-day I proposed going 
 across to France in the wherry, and got well scolded for the 
 suggestion." 
 
 In April of this year (1865) he paid a fortnight's visit to 
 a friend at Virginia Water, Capt. Welsh, " Admiral of the 
 Queen's Rowing-boats." 
 
 '■'■ April ^th. — After dinner a croquet party. Prince 
 Alfred came in in the middle of it. Saw the Oueen. 
 
 '■'■April loth. — Another croquet party, which was sud- 
 denly interrupted by the arrival of the Oueen. We had to 
 scamper off indoors ; but from my bed-room window I 
 could hear the Queen laughing and chatting in a most merry 
 way to Capt. Welsh.' 
 
 * " He thinks by the bonnet, like a monk in Sorbonne.'' 
 
 t Cheeks. Pascal {Old Freitch Proverb). 
 
24 James Hannin^ton. [A.D. 1865. 
 
 " April I'jth. — Rode with Vernon. Called on the Mills. 
 Coming back, was playing the penny whistle, when sud- 
 denly met the Queen. I wonder what she thought of my 
 performance ! " 
 
 The month of June was spent on board the Zclia. A 
 family party was made up for a trip by sea to the west coast 
 of Scotland ; and then once more the serious business of 
 life began, and James turned his unwilling feet to the 
 unwelcome warehouse. He says : " I left the dear yacht and 
 returned to Brighton. I hoped to do well ; but, alas ! it was 
 not from the bottom of my heart. I never could like the 
 business." His head was full of the sunny western sea; and 
 great green Atlantic rollers breaking over the half-hidden 
 fangs of treacherous reefs ; and the sloping deck of the yacht 
 under pressure of sail, cutting her way through the seething 
 water ; and rocky islands, purple against flaming skies ; and 
 everything but the adding up of those never-ending columns 
 of figures, and the acquirement of knowledge of the texture 
 of merchantable fabrics in that terrible warehouse. Had a 
 business career been seriously planned for him, he would, 
 perhaps, have been kept more rigorously to the grindstone ; 
 but no doubt his parents were at this time willing to allow 
 him to discover for himself, by actual experience of life, in 
 v/hat direction his natural bent tended. He had, accord- 
 ingly, far more liberty than is granted to most boys at the 
 age of eighteen, who are not intended for a life of idleness. 
 
 It is very noticeable that, under this treatment, Hanning- 
 ton never displayed the least tendency to pass his time in 
 lounging about, frequenting the clubs, or in any way leading 
 a fast life. His time was never unoccupied — never hun<>- 
 heavy on his hands. He was never one of those who affect 
 to be superior to the occupations and amusements of every- 
 day life — who yawn, and find nothing to interest them in 
 the world. He always had something to do — always some- 
 thing in hand; and what he did undertake he carried 
 through with a heartiness and delighted enthusiasm which 
 never failed to infect others and stir them up to co-operate. 
 It was this faculty which made him the very life and centre 
 of any circle of society into which he was introduced. His 
 
/Et. 18.] Receives His Commission as Captain. 25 
 
 friends often found themselves, under his influence, working 
 might and main for the achievement of some object in 
 which none of them had taken the shghtest previous interest, 
 but which Hannington had made the all-important object 
 of the hour. 
 
 About this time he threw himself heart and soul into 
 the work of his battery. He passed his examination for 
 promotion, and about the end of the year received his com- 
 mission as captain. His delight was boundless when, at the 
 Artillery Volunteer Camp at Shoeburyness, the Brighton 
 men won both the Palmerston Prize of 40 guineas and the 
 Queen's Prize of 100 guineas. His own detachment 
 behaved itself very creditably, and showed signs of careful 
 drilling. I find this entry after the return from the camp : 
 " I presented a gold pin to Bomb. C. for good shooting." 
 At this time, also, he began to show signs of that interest 
 in the welfare of young men which in after years was so 
 marked a feature of his ministry. He took a great deal of 
 trouble in procuring for them suitable recreation rooms, and 
 personally inspected, tested, and bought the various articles 
 necessary for their equipment. He organized concerts, 
 readings, and games, and made himself a prime favourite 
 with the men under his charge. 
 
 Hannington was always fond of telling a good story 
 against himself. Here is one: On Easter Monday, 1866, 
 at the Grand Review, the Prince and Princess of Wales 
 being present, he was appointed major to the battalion. 
 Right proudly he jingled along upon his gaily-caparisoned 
 charger. Scarcely, however, had they started, when that 
 horse, unmindful of his own dignity or that of his master, 
 took the bit between his teeth and bolted. Away flew 
 James in full view of the admiring Prince and Royal party. 
 First his horse made for a gap which led over the clifF ; from 
 thence, being hardly turned by the waving arms of some 
 fisherfolk, he dashed down the pavement and ran full tilt into 
 a cart ; grazing this, he was nearly knocked from the saddle 
 by violent contact with a cab horse ; and next, still sticking 
 bravely on, he charged home into a mounted officer. At 
 last, not without effort, this mad career was checked, and 
 
25 James Hanningtoii. [A.D. 1866. 
 
 the major rode back to his post, girth broken and accoutre- 
 ments all awry, amid the ironical cheering of the delighted 
 crowd. So he tells us. But if he appeared, through his 
 charger's misdemeanour, in a ridiculous light that day, he 
 at all events seems to have enjoyed the occurrence as much 
 as any of the onlookers. 
 
 The same spring, the Hanningtons made up a family 
 party for a long yachting trip to the Mediterranean. James's 
 diary has the following : — 
 
 " May gth. — Left Brighton with Sam and Jos, and 
 found father and mother at Lymington, busy putting a few 
 finishing touches. Among other things that they have 
 added to one of the best fitted and most comfortable yachts 
 afloat, is a steam launch. Scarcely another yacht has one." 
 
 This, of course, was in 1866. They landed first at 
 Belem, on the Tagus, and saw all that was to be seen. 
 " Got permission and went over the Castle, which is ex- 
 ceedingly picturesque, and built of marble. They are much 
 behindhand in gunnery — only some old 13-pounders on 
 wooden carriages, painted red. The sentry sits about and 
 smokes in the most casual manner. I got into conversation 
 with the guard, and showed them the manual and platoon. 
 One spied my thumb, and at once affirmed for me that I 
 had lost it in war." 
 
 Gibraltar, Algiers, and many places are described with 
 much patient minuteness. At the latter place he bought a 
 young jackal, which was brought home with him as a pet. 
 On this cruise his botanical notes begin to multiply ; and 
 he evidently used the microscope systematically, and to 
 good purpose. From Naples, James and his brothers 
 ascended Vesuvius, and disported themselves in the crater, 
 which was then in a slight state of eruption. At Civita 
 Vecchia they went on board the Pope's yacht. The Imma- 
 culate Conception^ " handsome outside, but very dirty in." 
 The officer in command paid a return visit to the Zelia, and 
 was much astonished at the completeness and sumptuous 
 arrangements of the English vessel. 
 
 After some days spent in Rome, they directed their 
 course to Genoa. James writes : " The war has broken 
 
^t. 19.J Yac/iting in the Mediterranean. 27 
 
 out, and the town is in great excitement. The citizens are 
 garrisoning the place, but present anything but a military 
 appearance. The Garibaldians seem, to the visual eye, an 
 awful crew." 
 
 But we need not enter into the details of this trip. 
 The boy of nineteen chronicles all he saw, as though it had 
 never been seen before, and never might be again by eye of 
 mortal. He is still very boyish, pleased to be courted and 
 admired by foreigners as " one of the lords from the English 
 yacht." He still has a great deal to learn, but he is 
 evidently teachable, and by the grace of God he will learn 
 his lesson. 
 
 On the last day of August, Hannington was again in 
 Brighton ; and the next day, being the first of September, 
 we find him, indefatigable and keen, carrying his single- 
 barrel breech-loader over the turnips ana stubbles. He 
 writes : " Sam and I killed between us 25I brace of 
 birds." 
 
 '■'■Nov. yd. — Riding over from Brighton to shoot, my 
 horse fell, and rolled over with me on my leg. I never said 
 anything about it, lest I should be forbidden to strain the 
 leg by going out shooting. Killed eighteen brace of 
 pheasants.'^ 
 
 " Nov. qth. — Went to Mayor's banquet, and delivered 
 my maiden public speech, by returning thanks for the 
 ladies ; received great eclat." 
 
 "1867, Jail. itJi. — Breakfast and meet at Sir J. 
 Simeon's. In at death." 
 
 " (^th. — Went across in Royal yacht Alberta to 
 Southampton, and returned with Sir Stafford Northcote." 
 
 '■'■ Wtli. — Crossed again with Sir Stafford; inspected 
 the docks. Treated with fearful civility, the effect of 
 travelling in the Queen's yacht. Returned in the evening 
 with General Gray." 
 
 " \\th. — Left Cowes in the A/derta with Lady Caroline 
 Barrington, and returned to Hurstpierpoint." 
 
 And now follows a very singular entry. I quote it with 
 some hesitation, as liable by the unthinking to be misunder- 
 stood. Those, however, who have had some experience in 
 
28 James Hannington. [A.D. 1867. 
 
 tracing the strange and complex movements of the human 
 soul, and who have noted how, side by side, are to be found 
 there the workings of the trivial and the tremendous, will 
 know how to read this passage. Tt runs thus : 
 
 " Feb. C)ik.—l lost my ring out shooting, with scarcely 
 a hope of ever seeing it again. I offered to give the 
 keeper los. if he found it, and was led to ask God that the 
 ring might be found, and be to me a sure sign of salvation. 
 From that moment the ring seemed on my finger ; I was 
 not surprised to receive it from Sayers on Monday evening. 
 He had picked it up in the long grass in cover, a most 
 unlikely place ever to find it. A miracle ! Jesus, by Thee 
 alone can we obtain remission of our sins." He adds, in a 
 note written several years afterwards : " This is a quotation 
 from my diary, written at the most worldly period of my 
 existence." It was written, remember, for the inspection 
 of no eye but his own, and, therefore, expressed, without 
 doubtj the unfeigned conviction of the moment. As we 
 have seen before, he was, in spite of his volatile exterior, 
 by no means devoid of religious thoughtfulness. If he had 
 not, as yet, any intelligent apprehension of his true relation- 
 ship to God, he never v/holly neglected the externals of 
 religion. He had always " a secret apprehension " that 
 there was a better way. Keenly as he enjoyed his sur- 
 roundings — and no man ever entered with more zest into 
 the pursuit of the moment — he was never wholly satisfied 
 with a life apart from God. It is deeply interesting to 
 notice in this strange, unreasoning appeal to the Unseen by 
 the careless younker in his momentary vexation over the 
 loss of a trinket, the early traces of that assured and reason- 
 able, though childlike, trust in God which so distinguished 
 him in later life, and marked him pre-eminently above his 
 fellows as a man of faith. 
 
 He next mentions that he was " carrying on an interest- 
 ing correspondence with Frank Buckland about a surface net 
 when yachting." I believe that he never became personally 
 acquainted with the eminent practical naturalist. Had they 
 met, they would have found in each other congenial spirits. 
 After a short trip to Paris in the spring, James 
 
^t. 19.] A Disciplinarian. 
 
 2Q 
 
 Hannington and his brothers started for a cruise in the 
 Baltic, and a visit to some of the cities of Russia. The 
 following entry in his diary marks the event : — 
 
 '■'■ June ifth^\%bi. — Yacht Z^//«, 195 tons. Underway 
 9 a.m. Abreast Brighton, 3. 40. Off Beachy Head, 5.15." 
 
 Christiania, Copenhagen, Stockholm, etc., were all in- 
 spected with intelligent eyes. While at the latter place, he 
 wrote : " The King, when we went over the palace^ had 
 just left a cabinet council, and during the discussion had 
 sketched a tree and a face on a sheet of paper. The 
 guide's contempt when I asked for this was supreme. If 
 he was a fair example^ Stockholmers are not oveiweenino-ly 
 proud of their monarch." 
 
 They then spent a week in St. Petersburg and Moscow, 
 keenly entering into the delights of everything that was 
 going in the way of entertainment^ and toward the end ot 
 July set their faces again homeward. An incident which 
 throws light upon Hannington's character occurred on the 
 return voyage. The elder brother, who was in command of 
 the expedition, having been recalled home by domestic affairs 
 v/hich required his presence, the leadership fell to James. He 
 at once took the reins, and held them with no uncertain hand. 
 He writes : "The men have of late been very disorderly, 
 and getting worse, so, on my assuming command, I instantly 
 gave them my mind on the subject, and told them that in 
 future any man breaking leave would be discharged. The 
 drst to do so, as it happened, was the captain, who remained 
 ashore, and, by his own confession, helplessly drunk." The 
 captain had no doubt that he would be able to make it 
 all right with the young commander. But he reckoned 
 without his host. Discipline was at stake. Hannington 
 felt that now or never was the time to assert his authority, 
 and in such circumstances he was not accustomed to hesi- 
 tate for a moment. To the astonishment of the whole 
 crew, and not less so of the culprit himself, the captain was 
 there and then sent ashore with all his belongings. After 
 this dreadful example the crew gave no more trouble. They 
 recognized the fact that they had one it the head of affairs 
 
30 James Hannington. [A.D. 1867. 
 
 who might be expected to execute what he threatened, and, 
 after the manner of sailors, they hked him none the worse 
 for it. He was fortunate enough not to sufFer himself on 
 account of this prompt act of justice. He writes : " I met 
 Captain Van Deurs, a very gentlemanly man, and well 
 recommended, whom I engaged, and an immense success 
 he turned out." The next day they stopped a fishing 
 smack off the coast of Denmark to buy some cod. The 
 fisherman asked whether the yacht belonged to the King of 
 England. " ' No, there is no King ; England is ruled by a 
 Queen.' 'Then it must belong to the Prince of Wales. 
 That,' pointing to me, ' is the Prince of Wales.' No 
 answer on Van Deurs' part confirmed them in their idea, 
 and left them full of joy to return to their native village and 
 pass the rest of their lives as the men who had seen and 
 talked with the Prince who had married their own popular 
 Princess ! " 
 
 "July ibih. — Fell in with a tremendous gale, which 
 came suddenly upon us with a rising glass. All sails were 
 set at the time, and I was alone on deck, the men being at 
 tea. I rushed forward and shouted, ' All hands shorten 
 sail ! ' and in half an hour's time we were laid to with the 
 water washing over us most uncomfortably. Carried away 
 our jibboom while pitching into a sea ; it was a splendid 
 stick too. Three men were washed overboard by a hu^e 
 wave while clearing the wreckage ; but the next wave fluno- 
 them back on to the deck. After laying to for sixteen 
 hours, and drifting about helplessly, scarce knowino- how 
 matters would end, there was a slight lull. I ordered the 
 jib to be set, but it was blown to ribbons ; so we waited a 
 little longer, and then set the storm jib and were able to 
 continue. For two days we were without the sun, but the 
 captain made the land by our soundings. The soundings 
 were very interesting. The lard at the bottom of the lead 
 brought up light silver-like sand off the Danish coast, which 
 gradually grew darker, until almost black off the coast of 
 England." 
 
 With this trip we may bring Chapter HI. to an end. 
 
/E.t. 19.] " That is the Prince of IVa/es." 3 1 
 
 It marks the conclusion of a period in his life. As his 
 character was formed and his disposition became more 
 marked, his nature asserted itself more and more definitely 
 against a " business " career. Of whatever else in life's 
 arena he might be capable, in that at least he felt that he 
 could never excel. Bis heart was not in it. Surely some- 
 thing else might be found for him — some other vocation — 
 a real vocation to which his heart might respond, as to 
 that for which he was created and brought into this world ; 
 not a mere line^ grooved out for him by the industry of 
 his forefathers. 
 
 But how the emancipation took place must be reserved 
 for another chapter. 
 
CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EMANCIPATION. 
 (1867—68.) 
 
 " He was never a Sceptick in his Principles, but still retained a 
 secret Apprehension that Religion . . was founded in Truth, 
 and this Conviction . . . could not but occasion some secret 
 Misgivings of Heart." 
 
 Doddridge {Life of Colonel Gardiner). 
 
 One thing, and one thing only, had, for some time past, 
 prevented Hannlngton from shaking himself free from the 
 harness which galled him, and in vi'hich he felt that he could 
 not hope to run life's course with any prospect of credit or 
 success. Both his training and temperament made him un- 
 willing to run counter to the wishes of his father, and he 
 could not bear the thought of inflicting the slightest pain, 
 or even of causing the shadow of disappointment to fall 
 upon the mother whom he adored. About this time, how- 
 ever, he made a tentative effort at freedom. He wrote to 
 his father with regard to the general impression of his 
 friends as to his unfitness for a commercial life, saying, " I 
 know that 1 am laughed at, and looked upon as fit for 
 nothing but collecting curiosities." In fine, he desired that 
 something else more congenial to him might be found, upon 
 which he might exercise his superabundant energies. He 
 says in his diary : " Sam proposed that I should take to 
 farming ; and there was nothing I thought I should like 
 better. But my father, who had had a taste of farming 
 himself when young, would not hear of it. A4y mother 
 wrote, saying : ' Your letter was kindly and sensibly ex- 
 pressed, but it brought floods of tears to my eyes. The bare 
 thought of my sweet boy going where his father and mother 
 could not see him from time to time distracts me • father 
 too, said he could not bear it.' Seeing that my mother took 
 
JEt. 20.] J^i/is the Church. 33 
 
 it so tremendously to heart, I was ashamed that I ever sug- 
 gested giving up my work; and so for the time I gave up 
 all thought of leaving home, and endeavoured to settle down 
 once more quietly and contentedly. My mother's and father's 
 love devoted my heart to them. I felt that I had sinned 
 grievously in even suggesting what might give them pain." 
 
 The matter, however, was not to rest here. "There 
 is a Divinity that shapes our ends," and Hannington was 
 not to be shaped by any parental wishes — dutiful resolu- 
 tions on his own part notwithstanding — into the ord narv 
 type of a British merchant citizen. 
 
 The first blow struck upon his shackles was, after all, 
 dealt by the hand of his father. It happened in this wise. 
 The family had been hitherto, at least nominally. Indepen- 
 dents. Mr. Hannington had built a chapel in the grounds 
 of St. George's, in which Nonconformist services were 
 held. Finding, however, after a wide experience of men 
 and things, that they had no serious quarrel with the Church 
 of England, he and his family decided that they would 
 seek admittance into her communion. At the enJ, there- 
 fore, oi 1867, St. George's Chapel was licensed for public 
 worship by the Bishop of Chichester, and the charge of it 
 became a curacy — virtually a sole charge — under the Rector 
 of Hurstpierpoint. James writes : 
 
 '■'■Sunday, Oct. ibth. — The last Sunday of the dissent- 
 ing ministers in St. George's Chapel. Mr. Hart preached 
 the farewell sermon with a good deal of true emotion. 
 He and his wife were pensioned by my father, the pension 
 to continue for the last survivor's life. Little did I think 
 that I was ever to occupy that pulpit. Perhaps the old 
 man prayed for me." 
 
 '■'Dec. \\tli. — Opening service at St. George's. Mr. 
 Ca.'ey Borrer, the rector, preached a splendid and most 
 suitable sermon ; spoke very kindly of my father. Preached 
 also in the afternoon to a crowded congregation." 
 
 The consequence of this important step on the part of 
 -his father was that Hannington was brought much into 
 contact with Churchmen of whom he had known little 
 
 3 
 
34 James Hannington. [A.D. i86^- 
 
 previously. He says: "This year (1868) was mo^t event- 
 ful to me. Through the change from dissent to the Churcn 
 I got to know the clergy of the parish church and college. 
 I yearned for ordination. My mother had once or twice 
 spoken about it, and felt my mind on the^^ subject, 
 so I knew that she would offer no objections. Atter 
 some self-examination, however, he was led to conclude 
 that his increasing dissatisfaction with, and loathmg tor, the 
 business at Brighton had more to do with his desire for 
 Orders than any other motive. " I had it fixed upon my 
 mind that I was to be oidained," he says, " but as for real 
 motives I had none, or next to none. I was, I fear, a mere 
 formalist, and nothing more." 
 
 However that may have been, there are not wanting in- 
 dications in his diary that he was thinking seiiously at times. 
 His was far too honest a nature to permit him to take any 
 step which did not secure the hearty concurrence of his 
 will and intellect. He could never have become a " mere 
 formalist." He had too much humanity about him, and too 
 much enthusiasm within him to have permitted that. A 
 mere secular organizer he might have perhaps become; 
 enforcing zealously, and by the power of his own personality, 
 dogmas which lacked the power of the Spirit of God to 
 commend them. But from this, too, he was saved, as will 
 appear in the -course of our narrative. 
 
 To outward appearance he was still as gay, thoughtless, 
 and reckless as ever. Delighting to startle his friends by 
 some extraordinary feat of personal courage or endurance, 
 by eccentric acts which could only emanate from " Jim," 
 it was net easy to associate with this madcap the serious 
 business of life. But the following entry will show that in 
 his heart he was neither a careless nor indiilerent spectator 
 of the mystery of life, or of the set of the world-tide toward 
 Eternity. 
 
 " About this time," he writes many years late.~, ''John 
 Thurston * came to stay with us ; very ill ; he lingered a 
 long time ; when he was told that his case was hopeless, he 
 
 * A cousin. 
 
^t. 20.] First Coinmunion. 35 
 
 not only seemed resigned, but, as far as one could tell, just 
 touching the hem of the Saviour's garment. He died on 
 June 6th, 1868, and was buried in Hurst churchyard, in our 
 family vault. I vv'as in Brighton the night he died, and at 
 the exact time of his death I had one of those peculiar warn- 
 ings — an internal thrill — which told me certainly that he was 
 gone. My diary reads thus : 
 
 '■'■ June bth. — John worse ; about one p.m. he took his 
 leave of me. About four, at his own express desire, he 
 received the Sacrament from Mr. Methuen, surrounded bv 
 us all. I was obliged to go to Brighton at five. As I was 
 sitting at supper I had a heavy palpitation of the heart. 
 Something said to me, ' John is dead ! ' I took out my 
 watch frightened. The hour was ten p.m. 
 
 " "jtJi^ Sunday. — Got up at 4.30 a.m. ; walked down tj 
 see John, if not gone, though I was sure he was dead. 
 Went straight to the doctor's room. Heard that he died at 
 two minutes past ten o'clock ! " 
 
 The Lenten season of this year Hannington kept with 
 much severity, fasting rigorously \n private every Wednes- 
 day and Friday. 
 
 On April 23rd he wrote to his mother, saying: "I have 
 decided in favour of the Church. I bjlieve that God is 
 with me in this matter." 
 
 On July 5th he received the Holy Communion for the 
 first time. He wrote in his diary : " I am afraid whether I 
 am fit. I was not so fixed in thought as I wished.^' 
 Shortly after, something that he read in a " fairy tale," or 
 some train of thought started by some expression in the 
 book he held in his hand, led him to self-examination. He 
 came to the conclusion that his frame of mind was not 
 what it should be, and that he needed bracing up to his 
 duties, both religious and secular. He writes, " Prayer 
 refreshed me." It was not yet very intelligent prayer ; 
 but it was the petition of a soul seekmg, though 
 with much blind groping, after a higher life, and, as 
 such, was doubtless heard and answered by tiie Eternal 
 Father. 
 
 The next day's entry ru is thus : " I have to-day been 
 
36 James Hannington. [A.D. i858. 
 
 much better in work. It comes easier to me when I watch 
 and pray." 
 
 At this period of his spiritual development the functions 
 of the Church evidently exercised a strong fascination over 
 him. He made a point of being present when anything was 
 being done by the clergy in the neighbourhood. Within a 
 fortnight we find him at the laying of two foundation stones 
 of ecclesiastical buildings, and listening with admiration to 
 speeches made by the Bishops of Chichester and Oxford. He 
 threw himself with his accustomed energy into this newly- 
 found channel for his activity. He inaugurated, in connec- 
 tion with the Church Harvest-Eiome Festival, the first sports 
 that had been known in Hurstpierpoint. He was to be seen 
 frequently at Services in the parish church, or at choral and 
 other festivals. He waited dih'gently upon the lips of such 
 distinguished preachers as might come within possible dis- 
 tance of his home. His mind was apparently just in that 
 condition in which a permanent bias, one way or the other, 
 might have been imparted to it had he been brought into 
 contact with one strong enough to exercise a controlling 
 influence over him, and willing to use it. 
 
 But his time"had not vet come. If the town of Man- 
 soul was beginning to feel the stress of the siege, it was by 
 no means yet taken, or even ready to be taken by assault. 
 The volatile and fun-loving nature of the young man soon 
 resumed its sway over him, the newly-fanned flame of 
 ecclesiastical ardour soon paled and died down, and though 
 he certainly never repudiated religion, it is equally certain 
 that, for some years to come, he laid no claim to bs 
 esteemed " religious." 
 
 One important acquaintanceship, formed shortly after he 
 came of age, was destined to exercise a very happy and 
 altogether beneficial influence upon his character. He was 
 introduced to Dean Riirgon, then Fellow of Oriel, at the 
 house of his brother-in-law, Archdeacon Rose. Hannington 
 writes concerning him : " He is so kind, and seems to take 
 a great interest m me, and gives me kind advice, which I 
 hope that 1 shall follow. He soon perceives a fault. He 
 stops to play with all the small children he sees. Mrs. 
 
.fit. 21.] Dean Burgoii. 37 
 
 Rose frequently says to him, ■" Dear John, I wish they 
 would make you a canon ;' and he seems to regard himself 
 as not at all worthy of such promotion. Sunday was spent 
 by us all, Burgon and myself included, in taking classes in 
 the Sunday-school. He preached in the afternoon, and 
 then took me with him for a walk." 
 
 Kind attention bestowed upon a young man is seldom 
 wasted. In Hannington's case his esteem for Dean Burgon 
 helped to ballast him, and was no insignificant quantity 
 in his University life. 
 
 His college friends used to watch him, with an amused 
 surprise, wending his way every Sunday evening to the 
 Greek Testament class which Dean Burgon held in his 
 rooms in Oriel. But he was not to be dissuaded. I do 
 not recollect that he ever missed that class when he could 
 by any possibility attend it. How can it be doubted that, 
 though his spiritual nature was not as yet sufficiently 
 awakened to enable him to enjoy Bible study for its own 
 sake, those Bible classes did him good ? They and the 
 society of the good and sincere man who conducted them, 
 and whose original personality commended him in an 
 especial manner to the heart of Hannington, were safe- 
 guards and a sort of sheet-anchors, v/hich helped to keep 
 him from drifting whither so many have suffered shipwreck. 
 
 So, then, with the full consent of his parents, the first 
 step was taken which severed him from a commercial life, 
 and it was decided that James Hannington should, in due 
 time, seek for ordination as a clergyman of the Church of 
 England. 
 
CHAPTER V. 
 
 LIFE AT OXFORD. 
 
 (1868—69.) 
 
 " Not in the sunshine, not in the rain, 
 Not in the night of the stars untold, 
 Shall we ever all meet again, 
 
 Or be as we were in the days of old. 
 
 " But as ships cross, and more cheerily go, 
 Having changed tidings upon the sea, 
 So I am richer by them, I know, 
 
 And they are not poorer, I trust, by me.'' 
 
 Walter Smith. 
 
 On the 22.nd of October, 1868, James Hannington's name 
 was entered as a Commoner in the books of St. Mary 
 Hall, Oxford. My own personal recollections of him date 
 from this time. Eighteen years have passed since then. 
 Later events have crowded out from my mind many of the 
 earlier memories of my life, and the lichen growth of time 
 is slowly but surely effacing some of the most deeply-grooved 
 impressions. Nevertheless I can still without difficulty 
 recall the moment when I first heard the sound of his 
 voice. Why the impression of that moment should have 
 lingered with me I cannot tell, except that his voice was a 
 singular one — in timbre quite unlike any other voice which 
 I have ever heard. 
 
 I was seated, a solitary freshman, in a dark little room 
 which was usually allotted to the last comer. The single 
 lance-window looked out upon the " Quad," with its paved 
 walks, square patch of grass, and central clump of dwarf 
 shrubs. A little disconsolate and lonely was I at that 
 moment, wondering what sort of companions those might 
 prove among whom my lot was to be cast during the next 
 three years or so. As I sat in somewhat melancholy mood 
 
/Et. 21.} His Voice. 39 
 
 amongst the cups and saucers, decanters, and tumblers, 
 brand new kettle and teapot, and other paraphernalia of a 
 student's housekeeping, which had been sent in that after- 
 noon by various tradesmen, my attention was arrested by a 
 passing group of men who cast a heavy shadow through the 
 narrow window. 7"hey were talking loudly, but one voice 
 separated itself distinctly from the others. I was keenly 
 alive to every new impression, and the tone of that voice 
 remained with me. 
 
 It was half plaintive, half petulant, but, withal, wholly 
 attractive. I fell to picturing to myself what kind of man 
 the owner of that voice might be. The following day I 
 was introduced to him, and for the first time set my eyes on 
 James Hannington. 
 
 Let me try and describe him as he was when he made 
 his first appearance in St. Mary Hall, as a fresiiman, in 
 the autumn of 1868. A tall, well-proportioned youag 
 fellow, with somewhat loosely and pliably set figure, that 
 gave promise of both activity and power. Careless in his 
 dress — rather affecting a soft white hat, broad-soled boots, 
 and a general abandon of costume. His face was the very 
 index to his character. I have before me, as I write, some 
 dozen photographs which were taken between the years 
 '68 and '%^. During that time the face has filled out and 
 matured, but it is substantially the same. He vyas then in 
 his twenty-first year, of pale, rather sallow, complexion. 
 A mouth, the pouting lips of \Vhich seemed half-humorously 
 to protest against life in general. A pair of clear grey eyes, 
 which twinkled with latent fun, though deep set beneath 
 projecting brows which suggested unusual powers of observa- 
 tion and penetration. A nose not too prominent, but sharp 
 and inquiring, the nostrils of it readily expanding when 
 moved by indignation. (He used, after his first African 
 journey, to delight in telling how the natives would com- 
 pare it to a spear 1) The chin firm set, and jaws square, 
 without any too-marked massiveness. The ears, not lying 
 close to the head, but set at rather an angle. A face com- 
 bative, yet attractive. Volatile, yet full of latent strength. 
 Assertive, yet retiring. Altogether, quite a noticeable face 
 
40' James Hannington. [A.D. i86S. 
 
 and figure : not by any means to be ignored. The outer 
 clothing of a nature capable of great things, if seized and 
 moulded by the Divine Spirit. What otherwise— who 
 might venture to prophesy ? 
 
 Carlyle professes to attach much significance to a man's 
 laughter. He says, "How much lies in laughter; the 
 cipher key wherewith we decipher the whole man I . . . . 
 The fewest are able to laugh what we call laughing."* 
 Hannington would so far have satisfied his requirements. 
 None who have heard his laugh can surely ever forget it. 
 When he laughed the spirit of laughter took full possession 
 of him, and shook him sorely before it would let him go. 
 His laughter was contagious, he so evidently enjoyed it ; it 
 came welling up with such wild, uncontrollable waves, that 
 one found himself irresistibly compelled to give way and join 
 in too, aye, till the tears ran down his cheeks, out of pure 
 sympathy. 
 
 His voice was, as I have said before, unlike any other ; 
 at least, any other that I have ever heard. It was not 
 unmusical; of considerable power too; but with a certain 
 plaintive quaver in it, — a certain staccato thrusting forth of 
 single words and short sentences that was strangely charac- 
 teristic of its owner. A sort of intermittent fountain, it 
 corresponded with his movements. 
 
 I'hese, like his voice, were not smooth or even. He 
 was far from being awkward ; there was even a certain easy 
 power in all that he did which was not far removed from 
 graceful bearing, yet it was as though he studiously avoided 
 conventional attitudes. When he walked, he walked with 
 his whole body and shoulders, but whether he walked, 
 stood, or sat, he was distinctly himself — never quite like 
 anybody else. When I first saw him, he was leaning 
 against the lintel of the door which opened from his own 
 staircase upon the Quadrangle. He was surrounded by a 
 group of men, all seniors, with whom he was chattino-, and 
 evidently on the best of terms. To my freshman's eyes 
 beholding with awestruck reverence those second and third 
 
 * Siwtor Resarttis. 
 
JEt. 21.] Takes the College by Storm. 41 
 
 year men, Hannington's audacity in thus taking the collegc- 
 by storm seemed boundless. It was evident that, though 
 a freshman, he had already been received into their circle, 
 and that the seniors regarded him as an acquisition to their 
 society. 
 
 Perhaps this was partly owing to the fact that he came 
 up to Oxford with more experience of the world than many 
 others ; it was more probably owing to the irresistible mag- 
 netism of his genial good fellowship, coupled with his 
 decided individuality and force of character ; but, from 
 whatever cause, there can be no doubt that he aimost 
 immediately began to exercise an influence over his fellow- 
 students, and that he shortly established for himself an 
 ascendancy over them which he maintained without a rival 
 until the end of his University course. 
 
 It cannot be said that Hannington was an industrious 
 student. On the contrary, the golden opportunity of those 
 undergraduate years was missed by him, as by so many 
 others who vainly regret, but cannot recall, what they then 
 despised. Not that he was ever a dunce. What he chose 
 to learn — and he learned everything that interested him — he 
 knew accurately and thoroughly. Jn chemistry, botany, 
 natural history and general science he was singularly well 
 grounded, and, as a student of medicine, he would probably 
 have taken a high degree. But for classics he had very 
 little taste. He had never gone through that course of 
 patient gerund-grinding and grammar-grating by which 
 public schoolboys are broken in, and he was by nature very 
 impatient of any yoke which compelled him to plod con- 
 tinuously along the line of a given furrow. Some seven 
 years, moreover, had elapsed since he left school, and what 
 slight smattering of classic lore he had there acquired must 
 have, by this time, almost passed from him. Add to which 
 fact the consideration that the whole previous training of his 
 life had not been such as to fit him for close study, or to 
 accustom him to endure the strain of continual intellectuai 
 effort. 
 
 We have it on no less an authority than that of Pliny, 
 that " the mind is aroused to action by the active exercise 
 
42 James Hannington. [A.D. 1868. 
 
 of the body." This may be accepted if we understand 
 by " active exercise " sufficient exercise to counteract the 
 evils of a sedentary life. But we are inclined to think that 
 more than this is apt to have a contrary effect upon the 
 mind, and by over-develooment of the boddy faculties, 
 check the development of 'the mental. There is no time 
 when we are less disposed to think continuously or deeply 
 than when we are making some great physical elibrt, or 
 enjoying the excitement of a life of constant movement. 
 Hannington had hitherto given himself little time to think, 
 while at the same time he had never been idle. That he 
 was slow in developing those mental powers which, if 
 earlier matured, might have secured for him the honours of 
 the " schools," may be attributed largely to those constant 
 excursions and voyages by which his love of adventure had 
 been indulged. It must also be borne in mind that he had 
 had, until now, no direct incentive, or even encouragement, to 
 study. On the contrary, he had been taught that he might 
 dispense with learning, the absence of which had proved no 
 bar to the success of either his father or grandfather. It is 
 not surprising, then, that it took some time for him to shake 
 himself down into the course of the University curriculum, 
 and that his degree was somewhat delayed in consequence. 
 
 Hannington's rooms in St. Mary Hall bore witness to his 
 wanderings. They were large and airy ; oak panelled from 
 floor to ceiling. In one corner, over a drawer cabinet full 
 of curiosities and specimens, hung two gilt and painted 
 Icons from Moscow. Opposite was a curious drawing 
 of a terrier's head, burnt with a branding iron upon a panel 
 of some hard wood, and picked up I know not where. 
 Conspicuous was a portrait of his mother, a dignified and 
 handsome lady, with much facial likeness to her son. Else- 
 where, a rack full of whips and sticks of every size and 
 shape. A miscellaneous heap of narwhal's and swordfish's 
 horns, old weapons and what not, filled up a corner. A 
 shady place was found for a considerable glass tank, wherein 
 various fish, including a young jack, disported them- 
 selves. Add to all this pictures, china, bric-a-brac, and 
 ornaments of the usual type, a plentiful stock of lounging 
 
^t. 21.] All Undergraduate's Room. 43 
 
 chairs, with a good, capacious sofa of the old-fashioned square 
 kind ; bookcases fairly well filled, especially with works on 
 natural history ; portfolios full of scraps, and deep, red- 
 cushioned window embrasures in which to double up the 
 limbs and cozily con the same, and you will have a fair idea 
 of what those rooms were like. 
 
 Here Hannington kept open house. Here his friends 
 were wont to assemble, and here a frank and kindly welcome 
 always awaited all who were congenial. 
 
 While Hannington had in him all the elements of 
 popularity, and never failed to make himself liked, he did not 
 go out of his way to make friends. He was not much inclined 
 at this time to " suffer fools gladly." He would form strong 
 and apparently instinctive antipathies against certain persons, 
 antipathies for which he could offer no more valid reason 
 than that given in Martial's celebrated epigram : 
 
 " Non amo te, Sabidi, nee possum dicere quare ; 
 Hoc tantum possum dicere, Non amo te." " 
 
 Well, he may have been sometimes unjust, but, on the 
 whole, I am inclined to think that he was not often at fault 
 in his estimate of a man's character. 
 
 Nor was he a man to be trifled with. He possessed a 
 quick, passionate temper of his own, which it was never 
 difficult to rouse, and those who thought to take advantage 
 of his free and open manner, or of any eccentricity of his, 
 were soon disabused ; they were rarely rash enough to 
 tempt him a second time. When seriously angry, he was 
 capable de tout., and was quite formidable. All his friends 
 thoroughly understood this, and regulated their conduct 
 accordingly. 
 
 But through all his actions there ran a strong under- 
 current of genuine kindliness, unaffected simplicity, and 
 genial love of his kind which at once attracted others to 
 him. He was one of the ^e.-^ men who, while a leader in 
 
 * Which may be freely translated by the well-known couplet : 
 
 " I do not like you, Dr. Fell, 
 But why I don't I cannot tell." 
 
44 James Hannington. [A.D. i86S. 
 
 an exclusive and hoi-polloi-despising college set, was 
 acquainted with and popular with all down to the last- 
 arrived freshman. He could be keenly jealous, too, for the 
 prerogatives of his party, and his friends will recall some 
 sufficiently stormy scenes when the authority of the "Red 
 Club" was invaded by some daring revolutionary spirits, 
 who objected to privileged oligarchies. Notwithstanding 
 this, there was no man who succeeded better in effacing 
 differences, and in creating among the community a healthy 
 esprit de corps. Wherein his " great strength " lay did not 
 appear at first, or upon a brief acquaintanceship. He 
 seemed to be wholly given over to the spirit of fun — to de- 
 liberately yield himself to the perpetration of nonsense. He 
 loved to startle and shock the sensibilities of the staid fol- 
 lowers of established precedent. When the mood was upon 
 him, he could be as troublesome as a schoolboy, and his 
 spirits were quite as untameable. 
 
 lie must surely have tried to the utmost the patience of 
 the much-enduring and long-suffering Principal, whose tact 
 in dealing with him cannot be too highly admired, and who 
 won for himself Hannington's warm esteem and regard. He 
 was accustomed, good-naturedly, to chaff everybody, and 
 loved to play queer practical jokes upon his friends. But 
 with all this there was an underlying earnestness of purpose 
 which, coupled with an iron inflexibility of will, soon made 
 itself felt. It was generally recognized, before he had been 
 long in residence, that he had something in him, that he knew 
 what he wanted, and that, when once he had made up his 
 mind that a thing ought to be done, he was not to be denied. 
 
 He might, with boyish glee, bring a whole armful of 
 firewoiks into college on the 5th of November, and let 
 them off in defiance of all rules and regulations ; he might 
 complete a festivity by galloping round the Ouad upon a 
 chair at the head of his companions in riot; he might he 
 known chiefly to the unthinking as the organizer of wild 
 pranks, the getter-up of burlesque theatricals, the hospitable 
 entertainer at noisy feasts ; but, beneath all this, were 
 sterling qualities which soon lelt their impress upon the 
 little world in which he moved, and caused his influence to 
 
/Et. 2t.] A Noisy Undergraduate. 45 
 
 be more deeply and widely felt than that of many cider and 
 more talented men. 
 
 He was, moreover, unselfish, open-handed, and generous 
 to lavishness. He was always ready to be paymaster when- 
 ever his companions would consent to lay that burden upon 
 him. Those who needed his assistance and made claim 
 upon his purse seldom or never met with a refusal. This 
 readiness to impart of course laid him open to the attacks of 
 one or two " notorious sponges." But only at first. He 
 was, as we have said, a pretty keen judge of character. If 
 once his suspicions were aroused they were hard to allay, 
 and then his contempt would be bluntly outspoken. His 
 caustic wit was not to be easily endured by those whose de- 
 signs upon himself or others he thought that he had fathomed. 
 
 Even his "scout," and the funny old Mother-Bunch of 
 a bed-maker, while they found him the most considerate 
 and liberal of masters, for his manner with servants was 
 always courteous and winning, soon discovered that he was 
 no fool, and not to be squeezed at their pleasure. Ah, me 1 
 that bed-maker 1 With her heavy wheezing voice in which 
 she would perpetually "beg parding," and the slowly 
 creaking shoes upon which she and her pails would ascend 
 the groaning stairs ! Like all the other servants, she " did 
 like Mr. Hannington, but he were a curious young gentle- 
 man — yes, that he were." 
 
 In his younger days Hannington was a most inveterate 
 tease. He would sometimes irritate his victim to the 
 utmost verge of all possible endurance ; but then he 
 thoroughly understood the principle of give and take, and 
 never objected to be teased in return. I cannot recollect 
 him to have lost his temper, or even to have shown signs 
 of annoyance in this game of thrust and parry. If some 
 friend's own galled withers were wrung oftener than he 
 liked, he had at least the satisfaction of knowing that he 
 might try his hardest to find some sensitive spot i[i the skin 
 of his tormentor. At this time he was very quick to resent 
 and avenge an insult, but he seemed even to thoroughly 
 enjoy to be made the target for whole sheaves of arrows of 
 legitimate " chaff." 
 
46 James Hannington. [A.D. 186S. 
 
 Some men are privileged. By general consent they are 
 allowed to say and do with impunity things which would 
 not be tolerated from others. Hannington was one of these. 
 
 It was impossible to be cross with him. Even the 
 Dons extended to him an unwritten licence. Upon one 
 occasion, I recollect, the Principal remonstrated with him 
 by letter upon want of attention to study, and inquired 
 how long he intended to continue "a gentleman at large." 
 To this the irrepressible alutiinus at once replied, " I hope 
 that you will in future regard me no longer as a gentleman 
 at large, but a gentleman at ' smalls ' ! " Who else would 
 have dared such a rejoinder ? 
 
 His wit was quite unsparing. As I had at that time 
 some small aptitude for catching likenesses, while he was an 
 adept at rapid rhyming, he persuaded me to join with him 
 in framing a book to be entitled the " Skimmery Album.'" 
 In this most of the men were to be found humorously 
 depicted and described. Few escaped the pillory, from the 
 Principal downward. In looking back upon that work of 
 art, I am not quite sure that either the rhymes or the 
 drawings were always polite, or even in the best of taste, 
 but of this I am quite sure, that no one took the jest amiss. 
 It was " only Jim." None of his darts were poisoned. If, 
 perchance, they caused a moment's irritation, they left 
 behind them no envenomed sting, or anything that could 
 rankle or cause permanent pain. 
 
 The man who essayed to leave his room, and found that 
 his " oak " had been firmly screwed to the doorpost by some 
 stealthy practitioner from without, and himself a helpless 
 prisoner, after vowing vengeance upon the unknown imper- 
 tinent, would relent when he discovered that he had been 
 victimized by the incorrigible Jim. The luckless one who 
 returned from an evening party to find that some mischievous 
 sprite had transformed his trim chambers into a very mis- 
 cellany, and " made hay "of his goods and chattels, would 
 smile resignedly when he traced the hand of the irrepressible 
 joker. 
 
 The very boatmen at Salter's would grin when he came 
 down to the river, and make ready to smile at the plea- 
 
^t. 21.] A Stern Chace. 47 
 
 santries of the St. Mary Hall captain. He was well known 
 everywhere, and I make bold to say, wherever he was 
 known he was well liked. 
 
 Hannington's thoroughness in carrying out whatever he 
 undertook has already been alluded to. Under his captaincy 
 the boat club throve and prospered. When the post of 
 captain fell vacant and was offered to him as the result of a 
 unanimous vote, he made a little speech to the effect that 
 he would accept the position, and endeavour to do his duty 
 in it ; but on one condition only. If he were to be captain, 
 he should expect to be implicitly obeyed. He would resign 
 the moment he failed to inspire confidence in the club, but 
 he would never consent to be captain in name only. The 
 boat needed a strict captain, and, if they elected him, he 
 did not mean to give them cause to find fault with him in 
 that respect. His speech was hailed with acclamations ; 
 and he proved himself as good as his word. He not only 
 sought out the best men and coached them assiduously, but 
 he kept them close to their work. Absentees were hunted 
 up, warned, and duly exhorted to mend their ways. Punc- 
 tuality was insisted upon. Training was rigidly exacted, and 
 rules made, which, like those of the Medes and Persians, 
 might not be altered. However, if the captain made great 
 demands upon others, it was certain that he never spared 
 himself, and so gave no occasion for grumbling. 
 
 And how he would row ! Like everything else that he 
 did, he did it with all his might. As he was wont to say: 
 " I would xo-^ my heart out sooner than that we should be 
 bumped." I find in his diary mention of one ludicrous 
 scene over which we often laughed. The long line of 
 "•eights" that May morning lay like huge water-spiders, 
 one behind the other, upon the surface of the still river. 
 Each was held in its place by boathooks from the bank, and 
 only waited for the signal gun to dart forward in pursuit of the 
 boat ahead. We were all rather nervous. We knew that 
 we were a better crew than the one above us, but strongly 
 suspected that we might fall a victim to the still better boat 
 below. We sucked our slice of lemon, stripped to the thin- 
 nest of jerseys and flannels, and grimly determined to bump, 
 
48 James Hannington. [A.D. 186S. 
 
 if possible, before we were bumped. After the momentary 
 confusion which followed the roar of the gun, and when 
 we had settled down into our stroke, we soon found that 
 we had our work cut out for us. l"he crew behind was 
 working grandly; the eight backs swung to and fro like a 
 well-balanced machine ; at each stroke their boat leaped 
 from the water ; it was quite evident that they were over- 
 hauling us hand over hand. Hannington was rowing just 
 bc-hind me at No. 7, and I knew that he was tearing at his 
 oar like one demented, but felt too, without being able to 
 see, that all was not right with him ; what it was I could 
 not tell. As we entered " the gut," where the river makes 
 a sharp turn, the " stroke " of the boat below called upon 
 his crew for a spurt, that they might catch us while we 
 were helrl back by the drag of our rudder. The chace 
 became exciting, the two boats almost overlapped, and the 
 shouts from the crowd on the towing path, as the friends of 
 the two crews mingled into one, swelled into a prolonged 
 roar. As we, hardly' escaping from our pursuer, emerged 
 from "the gut" into the straight reach, J could not help 
 noticing that the shouts of encouragement from the shore 
 were intermixed with laughter, till by and by the laughter 
 predominated, and, to my no small disgust, the grinning 
 faces of the crowd, as we now hugged the Berkshire shore, 
 were evidently directed upon our boat. What had we 
 done .'' Who was doing what? This was quite too dread- 
 ful ! I was not long, however, left in doubt. As we passed 
 the post, and I turned to congratulate Jim upon our escape, 
 I beheld him overwhelmed wiih confusion and shame. In 
 his immense energy he had worked his nether garments 
 almost wholly off, and the latter half of that hard-fought 
 race had been rowed by him, not without frantic snatches 
 at his disappearing raiment, garbed almost as slio-htly 
 as Ulysses and his crew, as depicted upon some ancient 
 vase ! 
 
 He was also a great canoe man. When the floods were 
 out, and all the low country was one vast lake, from which 
 protruded the tops of the highest hedges and the lono- lines 
 of pollard willows which marked the course of streams, we 
 
JEt. 21.] T/ie Last Toivn-and-Goivii Roiv. 49 
 
 would betake ourselves to light canoes and seek adventures, 
 shooting the boiling rush of the foaming "lashers," and 
 letting ourselves be whirled down by the mad waves of the 
 swollen and straining river. Here, as everywhere else, Jim 
 was always to be found at the post of danger. The ugly 
 eddy which swirled with sullen roar beneath the arch of 
 some sunken bridge, or the sweep of the deep and trea- 
 chdrcus Cherwell, tearing m<,dly through the branches of 
 some submerged tree, which spread themselves like a net to 
 catch and entangle the unwary canoeist as he rounded a dif- 
 ficult corner^these were his delight. He became a perfect 
 master of his tiny craft, and was soon able to paddle while 
 standing upright almost as easily as when seated. How 
 keenly he would enjoy the fun of a canoe race ! In this 
 everyone is allowed to do his best to hinder or overturn 
 his competitors ; and here Hannington's mingled boldness 
 and dexterity gave him a great advantage. 
 
 He had, too, the young Englishman^'s love for a stand-up 
 fight. The 5th of November, 1868, saw the last of those 
 " town-and-gown rows " which had been so long a disgrace 
 to the University. The authorities had determined to put 
 an end to the unseemly spectacle, and a strong force of 
 proctors and their myrmidons patrolled the streets. There 
 was, notwithstanding, a good deal of fighting. One under, 
 graduate was killed, and others were more or less injured 
 Those ifw gownsmen who escaped the proctors and their 
 "bulldogs " linked arms, and tried to drive the mob up th«» 
 High Street before them. Hannington was, of course, in 
 the thick of the melee. He had witnessed the fatal blow 
 by which the student mentioned above had been struck 
 down, and was filled with a Berserk rage and thirst for 
 retribution. His friend, having just been himself "run 
 in " by a proctor, and secured within the Hall gates, has a 
 vivid remembrance of that indignant figure, with the light 
 of battle in his eye, and his avenging fist stained with the 
 gore of his adversaries, struggling in the hands of those 
 who conducted him back to his college, and compelled him 
 to desist from the conflict. 
 
 There was an undefinable charm about this bright, queer, 
 
 4 
 
50 James Hannington. [A.D. i86S. 
 
 passionate, fun-loving, unconquerable undergraduate. A 
 mutual friend writes of him, " He was in some subtle way 
 the life and soul of our set." With all his seeming vola- 
 tility, he possessed that indescribable something which 
 Chalmers used to call "wecht," and to which he justly 
 attributed so great importance. That ic^-z^/^/, without which 
 no man can achieve greatness, but the possession of which 
 makes its owner a force in the world. 
 
 And the influence which he exercised was always, even 
 in his most careless days, in the main for good. We have 
 seen, by the extracts quoted from his diary, that he was 
 already accustomed to think at times deeply and seriously. 
 It is true, if I may repeat what I have elsewhere written of 
 him, "he was not, in his undergraduate days, a man with a 
 definite purpose. He had not, apparently, any settled object 
 in the regeneration of the society in which he moved ; his 
 religion, as Doddridge says of Colonel Gardiner, ' still 
 hung loose to him.' All the stops of his nature had not 
 yet been pulled out by the consecration of his life to Christ; 
 the tunes played upon that life were still, perhaps, purpose- 
 less, yet they were, withal, iiarmless enough. I never 
 knew him to fall into any of those vices common to young 
 men. While he was eminently social, he never indulged 
 himself to excess. During his residence at Oxford he exer- 
 cised a real and entirely salubrious influence over his fellows. 
 At the club 'wines,' under his presidency, sobriety became 
 the order of the day, and to exceed became discreditable. 
 He was, in his wildest moments, sound at the core and 
 there are not a few who will have felt the better for his 
 companionship." * 
 
 We have already had occasion to remark that the boy 
 James, however addicted to pleasure, was never given to 
 "loafing." His very idleness was busy. We notice the 
 same characteristic in the young man. He equally eschewed 
 the society of the fashionable lounger, who voted energy to 
 be " bad form," who frequented the High Street, and there 
 exhibited, with languid grace, the faultless cut of irre- 
 
 C. At. Intelligencer, April, 
 
JEt. 21.] A specimen Sunday. 51 
 
 proachable tailoring ; and that of the self-indulgent and 
 beslippered novel-reader, as loth to seek his couch at night 
 as to rise betimes from his bed in the morning;. 
 
 The following extract from his diary gives the details of 
 a single Sunday which maybe taken as a not unfair example 
 of many others : — " 7 a.m.^ Holy Communion. 9 a.m., 
 Chapel. 10.30, 'Varsity Sermon by Dr. Gouldburn ; 
 twenty-mile walk with E. Ashmead-Bartlett. 5.15, Chapel. 
 7.30, Service in St. Mary's. 9 p.m., Greek Testament 
 Lecture under Burgon." Which all must, surely, confess 
 was a fairly well-filled day ! 
 
 Hannington spent the Christmas vacation of 1868 — 69 
 in his usual energetic manner, by rushing over to Germany, 
 and visiting Berlin, Dresden, and other continental cities 
 in midwinter. 
 
 He was still, as the Principal put it, more disposed to 
 play the part of the " gentleman at large •" than that of the 
 student. During the ensuing term we find notes of two 
 visits to Cambridge, which he, of course, compares un- 
 favourably with his own dear Alma Mater. The rest of 
 the term is occupied with sports of various kind. E. Ash- 
 mead-Bartlett and he had struck up a great friendship ; 
 and Hannington threw himself heart and soul into his friend's 
 early successes in athletics, in which he then had an ambi- 
 tion to excel. He records his pleasure when Ashmead- 
 Bartlett ran third in the 'Varsity three-mile race, which 
 secured to him the right to take part in the next Inter- 
 University sports. He tried his hand at the " new French 
 two-wheeled velocipedes," then first introduced into Oxford, 
 and which resembled the perfect bicycle of to-day not much 
 more closely than "Puffing Billy" resembles the express 
 locomotive of the " Flying Scotsman." He gave large 
 wines, and got up and acted in the great hall doggrel Eng- 
 lish versions of Greek plays. In fact, like other young 
 men of hio-h spirits and social gifts, he entered thoroughly 
 into the enjoyments of this new life. He appreciated its 
 freedom, made all the more piquant by the appearance of 
 restraint imposed by college rules, and was disposed to make 
 the utmost of its possibilities. 
 
52 James Hannington. [A.D. 1869. 
 
 Though he afterwards became an efEcient speaker, and 
 could even now, upon such occasions as that narrated above 
 at his Boat Club election, speak pithily and to the purpose, 
 he was not fond of speechifying. Like some of his contem- 
 poraries, who have since found their tongues, he did not 
 much affect the excellent college debating society, much 
 less the debates at the Union. Action was more in his line 
 than speech. Had he lived in the di.ys of the Scotists and 
 Smiglesians, he would have, doubtless, borne a good club in 
 Logic Lane.* He had the young Eriton's thorough con- 
 tempt for a " mug." 
 
 To row in his college boat, and be captain of it, to be 
 the most popular man in residence, and perhaps some day 
 to be elected president of the then flourishing Red Club^ 
 these were things compared with which a good degree 
 seemed but as the dust in the balance. Some little time 
 afterwards, when these ambitions v/ere gratified, he writes : 
 " I am now captain of the boats and president of the club. 
 So I am at the head of everything." Ah, well ! most 
 healthy young minds pass through this phase of experience. 
 The time was coming when those things which now seemed 
 of least account would bulk most largely in his eyes — when 
 he too would " put away childish things." 
 
 In the meanwhile his life went on as before, little 
 changed bv his adoption of those outward and visible signs 
 of learning, the cap and gown. The Long Vacation of '69 
 — as though his whole life hitherto had not been been one 
 long vacation — was spent in a yachting tour, during which 
 he visited the coast and ports of Holland. Of this trip a 
 few notes from his diary may be sufficient. While at Ant- 
 werp, he writes : " I am rather astonished at myself, on 
 viewing for the third time Rubens' ' Descent from the 
 Cross.' I have lately been studying continental pictures 
 
 * "The followers of Duns Scotus and Martin Smiglesius, who 
 lived respectively in the fourteenth and sixteenth centuries. The 
 students used to adopt their tenets, and when argument failed, 
 would try to cudgell each other into acquiescence. Logic Lane is 
 ' a narrow defile where the partisans used to encounter,' hence its 
 name." — Addison {Essay XCI., " On Managing a Debate "). 
 
-Et. 22.] Ship on Fire. 53 
 
 very keenly, and have, I think, a better eye for merit than 
 formerly. The first time I beheld it with disappointment, 
 the second time with indifference, the third time with 
 rapture. The figures I cannot help thinking too muscular, 
 and the features coarse to vulgarity, but the lifelessness of 
 the body and the colouring seem to me perfection. I could 
 not take my eyes off the picture, until the man, thinking I 
 had had enough for my money, covered it up." 
 
 Hannington next took his steam yacht up the Rhine, 
 and had some exciting adventures on the rapid waters of 
 that treacherous river. Once the ship caught tire. " We 
 had proceeded about two miles past Bommel, when the 
 steward came to me and called me aside most mysteriously. 
 He thought he had better inform me quite privately that 
 smoke was pouring up through the ship's floor. I darted 
 down below and found, as he said, the cabin full of smoke, 
 There was no doubt that the ship was on fire. ' Send 
 quickly for the carpenter, and don't tell the others for a few 
 minutes. Now, carpenter, keep your head cool : the vessel 
 is on fire ! tear up this floor at once I ' Then, running on 
 deck to the pilot : ' Bring up as quickly as possible. En- 
 gineer, draw fires, and be ready if [ want you for a stiffish 
 piece of work.' We could find no fire under the cabin, 
 but everywhere smoke. Then we went to the coal bunk, 
 and directly it was opened the smoke rolled out in volumes. 
 My heart sank. The coals on fire ! Nothing could save 
 her from utter destruction ! We turned the coals over, 
 but found no fire, although the smoke kept rolling out. 
 Next it began to burst out behind the donkey engine. 
 Dreadful suspense I Be calm ! With much difficulty we 
 tore up the engine-room floor, and then saw the keel in a 
 blaze ! Bad as this was, it was a relief to have found the 
 €nemy. I shouted to the men, who had gathered anxiously 
 round, to stand to the buckets, and, stripping off coat and 
 waistcoat, I took one myself; and then, turning on all the 
 taps, we speedily filled her with water to the floor, and thus 
 extinguished the flame. It was an anxious time, however. 
 The fire appeared to be in close proximity to the coals, of 
 which we had a large supply. Had they been ignited our 
 
54- James Hannington. [A.D. i86g 
 
 chance of escape would have been small. It resulted from 
 the ash-pan almost,'if not quite, resting upon the wooden 
 keel. The iron had become red hot, and kindled the 
 wood. Why, indeed, this had not happened before I can- 
 not tell." 
 
 Next comes the following entry: — "Brought up at 
 Nimegen ; created a most profound sensation, it appears 
 that the Queen's yacht, the Fairy , is the only one that 
 has yet ascended the Rhine, so the people think that I 
 must be of the blood royal. On landing everybody was so 
 obsequiously polite that I had almost too much of a good 
 thing. However, without assuming to myself any dignity 
 beyond that of an ordinary English gentleman of great 
 affability, I inspected with great interest all that is to be 
 seen in this out-of-the-way little place, unnoticed by Murray 
 or Eradshaw." 
 
 Any generation of over-weening pride was, however, 
 properly checked by the next adventure. " We steamed 
 on to the Prussian frontier. Here ] had to land, and, in 
 spite of explanations that the yacht was not either a mer- 
 chant or passenger vessel, I had to make a manifest of 
 everything on board — rice, salt, tobacco, wine, etc. Of 
 course, I did not know in the least what we actually had. 
 J, therefore, told the man whatever came into my head, 
 as a pound or two of tea, two loaves of bread, fifty bottles 
 of wine, etc. I then had to sign my name to four dif- 
 ferent papeis to vouch for the accuracy of my statement. 
 Anybody can imagine my delight when, having solemnly 
 made my declaration, I was informed that the custom-house 
 officers would come on board directly to see if my statement 
 were true ! It was an insult hard to brook without flying 
 in a passion. In a 'inw minutes ten officers arrived. I re- 
 ceived them as if they were of the utmost importance, but 
 at the same time as if I was more so. I then told the 
 steward to take them round, but to show them nothing else 
 but the joint of meat. I, in the meantime, got hold of one 
 who secerned the most officious, and although he declared 
 in a loud voice that he would not touch a thing, I managed 
 to pour a glass of my very best down his throat, while his 
 
-Et. 22.] " F Have Undertaken to be Tltere." 55 
 
 subordinates were below. \Ve shook hands repeatedly, and 
 became sworn friends. They finally, declared that the\- 
 must ha\-e a bottle of wine to test its strength, which they 
 did, and sent it back in half an hour with a charge of about 
 £1 on my declaration, which I thought moderate." 
 
 To his great satisfliction, Hannington was able to bring 
 the yacht to Cologne at the time appointed to meet his 
 father. He had had many difficulties to contend with. 
 The navigation of the river proved both tedious and 
 dangerous for a \-essel of the loWs draught. Man\' 
 times they stuck upon sandbanks, or were stranded upoi\ 
 hidden reets. The pilot again and again urged him to tele- 
 graph to his father to announce the impossibility of reaching 
 Cologne by the day mentioned. To this he had but one 
 reply: "/ liave undertaken to be there." And there, on 
 the 7th of August, to the surprise of all, he was. 
 
 All this was, no doubt, conducive to the formation of 
 character. It helped to produce in him that self-reliance 
 and readiness of resource which afterwards so remarkably 
 distinguished him as a missionary pioneer. But it did not 
 help him much to make up leeway in his classical education. 
 
 It is not surprising, therefore, to learn that, when he 
 returned to O.vford in the autumn of '69, and at once took 
 up his old nh'e as Master of the Revels, the Principal 
 strongly recommended him to seek out a competent tutor in 
 some quiet and retired part of the country, where there 
 would be isw distractions, and where he would ha\e no 
 temptation to seek other friends than his books. 
 
 For this purpose he suggested the Re\'. C. Sciiven, 
 Rector of Alartinhoe. He could not have selected a better 
 man. But the place ! Alas ! how could the Principal, 
 with all his kindly forethought, know that this perple.\ing 
 undergraduate would find in Devonshire peasant folk, and 
 still more in Devonshire cliffs and seas, distractions even 
 greater than colle2;e life could ofier him ? 
 
CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MARTIN-HOE. 
 
 (1870-73-) 
 "A great, broad-shouldered, genial Englishman." 
 
 Princess. 
 
 Marti NHOE and Trentishoe are two small sister parishes 
 on the wild north coast of Devonshire, about half-way 
 between Ilfracombe and The Foreland. Far from any 
 railway station, they are shut off from the rest of the world 
 by their inaccessibility. The population of the two parishes, 
 at that time held by Mr. Scriven, does not much exceed 
 three hundred souls. These are, however, scattered over a 
 wide extent of country. A lonely place is this corner of 
 North Devon, and out of the way. A place of wide-stretch- 
 ing moorland ; dark, weather-scarped cliffs, and rocks worn 
 and torn bv the ceaseless sweep of Atlantic billows. Han- 
 nington writes of his first impression of the district : " The 
 country round is magnificent, and I soon fell in love with 
 both place and people." 
 
 The impression which he himself made upon the partv 
 at the Rectory is recorded in another note : " I found out 
 that their opinion of me is that I am very eccentric." 
 However, in a very short time, not only they, but the 
 simple country folk around, learned to love him, and to 
 regard him as, in a peculiar sense, their own. He entered 
 thoroughly into the pursuits of the people, and was soon 
 widely known among them. Before he had been long at 
 Martinhoe he was welcomed everywhere, in farmhouse and 
 cottage, as a personal friend. 
 
 The strange habits and customs of the Devonians, 
 almost unaltered through centuries, interested him greatly ; 
 he studied them sympathetically, while he keenly enjoyed 
 
/Et. 22.] Devonshire Superstitious. 57 
 
 the humour of them. The following is an extract from his 
 diary : — 
 
 '■'■Feb. 10th. — We had a funeral this week. The 
 bereaved gave a tremendous feast on the occasion to those 
 who were invited; and any others who chose to attend 
 went to the house for tea and cofiee. On Sunday they all 
 came to church in a body. They came in very late, and sat 
 together in a conspicuous place, remaining the whole time 
 of the service with their faces buried in their pocket-handker- 
 chiefs ; nor did one once look up. A short time since, the 
 clerk at Trentishoe lost his wife. A {tw days after the 
 funeral he asked for a holiday, borrowed a horse, and rode 
 round the parish to sound all the young women on the 
 question of matrimony. He arrived at the Parsonage and 
 proposed to both the servants, but was refused. At last he 
 found a lady bold enough and willing to take the step, and 
 she bids fair to make him a good wife. 
 
 " There is an immense deal of superstition 'about here. 
 Neither man, woman, nor child will enter a churchyard after 
 dark, and on Midsummer night they say that the spirits of 
 the departed move about the graves, and are to be seen. 
 Many of the people know charms for different diseases, and 
 are in great repute. Old John Jones can bless for the eyes: 
 and afterwards offered to reveal the secret to me, in which 
 case he would be able to ' bless ' no more, the gift 
 becoming mine. 
 
 ■■' Mrs. Jones 'to the parsonage ' has a seventh son, who 
 has power to bless for the King's evil. Numbers resorted 
 to him, but finding that he did not get sufficient from them, 
 and that every time he ' blessed ' virtue went from him, and 
 left him weak, he has discontinued the practice." 
 
 The belief in witches still holds swav over the minds of 
 the people. They have unbounded faith in charms and 
 spells. 1 remember once to have had a conversation with 
 Hannington on the subject of the supposed miracles at 
 Knock, Lourdes, and other places. Whatever might be 
 the source of the alleged healings, he warned me against 
 summarily concluding that no cures had taken place. 
 
58 James Hanuingtoii. [A.D. 1870. 
 
 He said that he had himself seen the strangest cures 
 effected in Africa by medicine men with their fetish ; cures 
 of which, to an impartial beholder, there could be little 
 doubt. He then narrated some remarkable cases of persons 
 who had, under his own observation, been healed by recourse 
 to men or women who were supposed to be endowed with 
 the power to "bless.'" He was of opinion that certain 
 diseases — in fact, all those diseases which were directly or 
 indirectly nervous — might, in certain cases, be healed by a 
 strong faith in — anything. 
 
 The reader will, no doubt, recall the case mentioned 
 both by Pascal, and also by Racine in his history of Port 
 Royal, in which a daughter of Madame Perier was cured of 
 a lacrymal fistula of a very bad kind, which had disfigured 
 her face for more than three years, by a touch from a 
 supposed Thorn from the Crown. 
 
 Supposing this cure to have been really effected — and it 
 is testified to by no less authorities than Pascal, Arnauld, 
 and Le Maitre — there is no need to believe that any special 
 virtue resided in the " Holy Thorn." Rather that the 
 extent to which it is possible for the mind to sway the body 
 has not vet been accurately ascertained. 
 
 Upon one occasion, and I believe one only, Hannington 
 was induced to experiment upon the credulity of the people. 
 The result was notable. He had a decided taste for the 
 study of medicine, and had picked up at different times no 
 small practical knowledge of it. The Country doctor, 
 indeed, trusted him so far as to seek his assistance in re- 
 porting upon and caring for many of the simpler cases of 
 sickness. His repute as a " medicine man " among the 
 country folk themselves was great. They placed unlimited 
 conljdence in him. Upon the occasion to which allusion 
 has been made, he was asked to prescribe for a certain 
 woman who appeared to be in the last stage of consumption. 
 She had been under medical treatment for years, but had 
 obtained no relief. Hannington filled a phial with water 
 slightly flavoured and coloured, and attached to the cork a 
 small leaden medal, such as is found on some bottles of eau- 
 de-Cologne. This he gravely presented to the woman, 
 
ALt. 22.] Arnatetir Engineering. 59 
 
 merely saying to her, " When you take a dose, first turn 
 the bottle round three times three ; and, whatever you do, 
 take care that you do not lose that leaden medal, but return 
 It to me when yon are well." From that hour the woman 
 began to amend ; in a very brief time the medal was re- 
 turned — an apparently complete cure had been effected. I 
 make no comment upon this, but give the story as nearly 
 as possible in the same words in which he narrated it to 
 me. 
 
 After some more or less spasmodic reading, Hannington 
 returned to Oxford on March 19th, and 'went into the 
 schools to pass his "smalls." During the first day of the 
 examination he had good hopes of success ; but on the 
 second day an ill-conditioned organ-grinder took up his 
 station outside the " theatre," and with the horrible iteration 
 of his popular airs drove all thoughts out of the distracted 
 head of the unhappy student. In a fit of irritable despair 
 he rushed out and withdrew his name. 
 
 The next term Hannington spent in residence. He was 
 at this time elected President of the " Red Club," which, 
 with the captaincy of the Boat Club, was the highest social 
 honour that we were able to confer upon him. 
 
 On the loth of June he again tried to pass his Respon- 
 sions, and this time successfully. 
 
 The next entry in the diary is again from Martinhoe. 
 Hannington had discovered a new source of delight. The 
 cliffs descended to the sea in sheer, precipitous walls of three 
 or four hundred feet. In it.vf places was access to their 
 base possible, except to bold and experienced climbers. 
 A perilous scramble from ledge to ledge in search for 
 chough''s eggs revealed the existence of some remarkable 
 caves, the largest of which was then and there dubbed Cave 
 Scriven. These caves, carved out by the foam-fingers of 
 the tireless sea, fringed with immense fronds of fern, pillared 
 with stalactite, and floored with firm white sand, the safe 
 and undisturbed citadel of birds, were quite inaccessible to 
 any but a cragsman. Hannington at once resolved that 
 they should be seen and explored by the party at the 
 Rectory, and for that purpose set to work to make a prac- 
 
6o James Hannington. [A.D. 1870. 
 
 ticable path down to the shore. Into this business he threw 
 himself with characteristic energy. The engineering dif- 
 ficulties to be overcome were not small. The clifF was in 
 many places a sheer precipice — nowhere could foothold be 
 obtained except upon treacherous projections or crumbling 
 ledges. However, he writes: "On Sept. ist we com- 
 menced, and secured two able-bodied men and old Richard 
 Jones to help. When Richard was a boy he had been the 
 best hand in the parish at climbing the ' cleve ' (clifF), but 
 now he was old and crippled. We thought, however, he 
 might be useful to do odd jobs, so at 7 a.m. we all turned 
 out with ' pick-isses,' 'two-bills,' crowbars, and spades, and 
 made our way to the scene of action." 
 
 It will be observed that Hannington had, as usual, suc- 
 ceeded in carrying along with him all his friends, the other 
 pupils at the Rectory, and even the servants. His enthu- 
 siasm was the most infectious thing in the world. The 
 most ridiculous project became, when he threw himself into 
 its execution, the all-absorbing business of the hour. Thus, 
 for the time being, the interest of the parish was concen- 
 trated upon this wonderful " path," which was to lead down 
 the face of a dangerous cliff, from nowhere in particular to 
 nobody knew where. 
 
 Though the leader of this ])ioneer corps of sappers and 
 miners was almost incapacitated by a severe attack of shingles, 
 he refused to succumb, and himself marked out the first sec- 
 tion of the path. The party, amateurs and hired labourers, 
 then set to work in good earnest, and soon made the first 
 part of a practicable zigzag. When they got well down 
 over the edge, however, the rocks proved very rotten, and 
 after several narrow escapes, the enthusiasm of some was 
 damped, and the two able-bodied workmen refused to risk 
 their lives further. Old Richard alone remained undaunted ; 
 and, with his help, and that of George Scriven, the path 
 was at last completed. Some graphic extracts from the 
 diary explain how it was done. Old Richard was clinging 
 on to a landslip, and plying his pick as best he could, when 
 Hannington cried to him, " ' Hold on, Richard, till I come 
 back to you ; I am going to climb down a bit further, and 
 
^t. 23-] Devonshire Hospitality. 6[ 
 
 see where we can next take the path to.' Old Richard, 
 however, was a man who could not stand idle, as I found 
 to my cost ; for when I had crept down some distance I 
 heard the rush of a stone, and a considerable boulder shot 
 past my head, within a foot of me. I had barely time to 
 dodge as it whizzed by like a cannon-ball, accompanied by 
 a volley of small stones, and I could feel the draught of air 
 it made. With a shout I apprized Richard tliat I was 
 below, and climbed up like a lamplighter, and stood by his side 
 pale and breathless. He was quite cool. ' I don't like the 
 look of that old rougey place where you have been climb- 
 ing,' said he. Nor do I^ thought I to myself, when you 
 are working up above. If you are not the coolest old hand 
 
 I ever met ! However, I said nothing ; but after 
 
 dinner George and 1 climbed across tins ' rougey place,' 
 with the assistance of a rope, and determined that we would 
 not return until we had cut our own path back. Old 
 Richard nov/ gave in. He took back to the village the 
 news that he was beaten now. So George and I did it by 
 ourselves. Capital fellow is George, and just as determined 
 as myself that we should succeed, even if the whole clifl 
 came down about our ears." 
 
 There was much triumph when the work was com- 
 pleted. An opening day was arranged, and a party of 
 twenty visitors descended the dizzy path down to 
 
 " The murmuring surge 
 That on the unnumbered idle pebbles chafes," 
 
 and were introduced to the wonders of the new-found 
 caves. 
 
 The following entry appears opposite January ist, 1871 : 
 
 "Received the Holy Communion with great misgivings. 
 Reflected upon the manner in which I had spent the past 
 year, and made resolutions, which, alas ! soon failed." 
 
 A day or two later he was almost drowned while skat- 
 ing. The same evening, however, he went to a Devonshire 
 farmer's party, which he thus describes : "I am going to 
 ' see Christmas,' which is Devonian for ' I am going to a 
 party.' We arrived at 6 p.m., when a hot supper was 
 
62 James Hamiington. [A.D. 1871. 
 
 ready — three hot roast joints, etc. ; after which, games, 
 dancing, and the like went on till midnight, when there was 
 another hot supper as substantially provided as the first. 
 Then cards commenced till 8 a.m., when there was a hot 
 breakfast." Hannington does not say whether he saw this 
 party out, but apparently it is not uncommon on such 
 occasions for guests to remain even until noon, when they 
 wind up the festivities with a final dinner. The habits of 
 our beef-and-ale-consuming forefathers still linger in hospit- 
 able Devonshire. 
 
 A week later Hannington found himself in nearly as 
 awkward a position as that of the elderly gentleman who, 
 while probing the clefts of the rocks for anemones at low 
 tide, was seized by the finger and held fast in the tenacious 
 grip of a huge crustacean. Tradition says that he was 
 drowned. The same fate might easily have befallen our 
 adventurous explorer of caves. He says : " On the twelfth 
 of January I asked Morrell and George Scriven to join in 
 an excursion to a cave we called ' The Eves,' two small 
 holes just large enough to creep through, which penetrated 
 a headland. While there, we discovered below water mark 
 a hole which seemed to penetrate some distance ; so, with 
 no little squeezing and pushing, I wound my way in, and 
 found myself in a large hollow chamber with no other out- 
 let than the one I had entered by. It would have been a 
 dreadful place in which to be caught by the tide. The water 
 gradually rising in the utter darkness would drown one like 
 a rat in a trap. 1 explained all this melodramatically to my 
 companions outside till they grew quite impatient. ' Well 
 come out then,' said Morrell, ' for the tide is fast comino- 
 up, and we shall have a job to return.' So I crawled down 
 to the entrance and essayed to come out head first. I soon 
 stuck fast, and after great squeezing and squirming barely 
 managed to get back again inside. Next I tried to'o-et out 
 as I came in, and so worked my way down feet first. It 
 was no go, I was again jammed tight. iVly two friends then 
 got hold of my legs, and pulled and pulled till I thought my 
 legs and body would part company. Matters reany oegan 
 to look serious. I was bruised and strained a good deal and 
 
.Et. 23.] Trip to Norway. 63 
 
 escape seemed impossible. And now the full horror of the 
 situation flashed across us all. My mocking words were 
 actually to be realized ! I said in the best voice I could 
 that I must say good-bye ; but if ever I passed a dreadful 
 moment it was that one. The tide was creeping up slowly 
 but surely. Applying all their strength they pushed me 
 back into the entrance that I might make one more effort 
 head first. Then it suddenly occurred to us all that I might 
 try without my clothes. No sooner said than done ; and 
 after a good scraping I soon stood once more by their side. 
 But it was a narrov/ escape ! " 
 
 Nothing daunted by this adventure, Morrell and he set 
 themselves to conquer "the champion climb amongst the 
 natives." Twice they were defeated. It seemed to them 
 that ''no mortal man could go up." The third time they 
 were successful, scaled the dizzy height, and " were made 
 free of the cliffs." 
 
 Hannington kept the next two terms at St. Mary Hall. 
 He was now twenty-three, but the boyish spirit was not in 
 the least abated. Vide the following : 
 
 '•'■April 2^tk. — For a bet I wheeled Captain Way up the 
 High Street in a wheelbarrow, and turned him out opposite 
 the Angel Hotel." 
 
 The Easter Vacation was spent in a yachting trip with 
 his own people. They all had a pleasant time on the 
 bright waters of the south coast. Whenever there was a bit 
 of rough work to be done, James always undertook it. 
 "Now, men," he was wont to say, "you remember me up 
 the Rhine. No putting back to-day, mind ! " On several 
 occasions, while the rest of the party went by rail to avoid 
 some stormy foreland, he took charge of the yacht ; never 
 better pleased than when a real stiff sea had to be encoun- 
 tered, or a difficulty overcome. As he was not in good 
 health, he next took advantage of doctor's advice to make a 
 yachting voyage to Norway. There he made the most of 
 his time, appreciatively seizing upon all strange ways, 
 quaint sayings, and queer surroundings, and making himself 
 
64 James Hannington. [A.D. 1871. 
 
 very popular with the Norwegians, whether pigge-, post- 
 boy, or boatman. 
 
 One story we may quote from his diary : " The land- 
 lord at Gudvangen, Herr S.,is quite a character. He dances 
 round one, and his long hair flies about in a most ludicrous 
 way. ' He shall sit up all night if he shall make you com- 
 fortable ; ' and to commence adding to your comfort he 
 pats you on the back. Then h^ is full of hitler remorse be- 
 cause you tell him that the maid (pigge) 7C77/ grease your 
 boot-laces. ' He shall send her away ; he shall do it him- 
 self; it shall break his heart if you are not comfortable.^ 
 Herr S. speaks good English, but he likes to add to his 
 vocabulary. Some one said that the Germans were fond of 
 guzzling beer. The conversation dropped, but not the 
 word. It dwelt in Herr S.'s mind. The next morning 
 we were at the river. Herr S. expressed a thousand 
 regrets that it was so clear. Said he : 'If only you 
 could get a little guzzling water you shall catch fish/ 
 We found that he thought that 'guzzling' meant thick!" 
 
 On July 18th he was back once more at Martinhoe j 
 reading, cliff-climbing, and botanizing — chiefly, I imagine, 
 the two latter. His zeal for exploring the wave-worn nooks 
 of the perilous coast had infected the others. Parties were 
 constantly made up to reach some new cave, or test the- 
 practicability of some hitherto impossible track. Hanning- 
 ton never tired of describing '.hese adventures. On one 
 occasion they v/ere creeping along a narrow ledge of rock 
 overhanging a " vasty deep," when they came to a place 
 where the ledge turned at right angles, and was, moreover, 
 blocked by a mass of jutting rock. A long stride over the 
 obstacle is required. He writes: "As I knew the place 
 best, I stepped on first, and then began to help the others 
 
 across. All got over safely till it came to R 's turn.. 
 
 1 was sitting on the ledge, and held out my hand to him. 
 He somehow missed the hand, slipped, and lost his balance. 
 The fearful look of terror that flashed over his face accom- 
 panied by a low moan and gasp of despair, I shall not easilv 
 ibrget. I dashed at him, caught him by the arm, and, grip- 
 ping the rock with one hand, held him for a moment danjr- 
 
^t. 23.] A Hair-breadth Escape. 65 
 
 ling in the air. Fortunately, George was at hand, and 
 seized my wrist, otherwise we must, both of us, have gone 
 over and been lost. Together we hauled him up, and 1 
 soon had the satisfaction of hearing him say, as he shook me 
 by the hand : ' Thank you for my life ! ' I, however, was 
 myself quite as much indebted to George." Good Mr. 
 Scriven did not half like these perilous freaks. But, while 
 the mania lasted, there was no keeping his " pups " off the 
 cliffs. To use his favourite expression, they were " like 
 moths buzzing round a candle.^^ 
 
 '■'■Aug. ^th. — Helped to put new east window in the 
 church. J had recommended Baillie, and had obtained the 
 design. 
 
 '■'■ Atig. ibth. — Took Lord Tenterden, Mr. Justice 
 Pollock, and some others to see the caves. They expressed 
 the greatest astonishment at the engineering of the path, 
 and the magnificence of the caves." 
 
 Next occurs the following : — 
 
 " I suggested to Mr. Scriven that I should come to him 
 at once as his curate, and read for my Degree afterwards." 
 
 To this he adds in a note written long after : " Very 
 fortunately the Bishop would not consent to ordain me 
 until I had taken my Degree." 
 
 Fortunately, indeed ! In this, as in other things, we 
 can trace the good Hand of his God upon him. 
 
 And now an event took place which moved him to the- 
 centre of his being. The controlling love of his life had 
 been that of his mother. The boyish tenderness for his 
 " dearest, sweetest mother,^^ had not been impaired by time. 
 No other affection had ever usurped his heart. He was the 
 least susceptible of men to the charms of women. No- 
 Adonis could have seemed more wholly unassailable by what 
 is called love. His friends and companions were mainly, 
 and, indeed, almost exclusively, of his own sex. Not that 
 he was unpopular with women : far from it. But in what- 
 ever light they may have regarded him, in his eyes they were 
 but weaker men, to be treated with chivalrous consideration, 
 but otherwise as companions — nothing more. His whole 
 
 5 
 
66 James Hannington. [A.D. 1871, 2. 
 
 love was given to his mother. She, on her part, fuliy 
 reciprocated his affection, and found an ever fresh deHght in 
 the devotion of her favourite son. Mrs. Hannington had, 
 for some time, been seriously ill. On the 30th of Septem- 
 ber of this year, 1871, her doctor pronounced that there 
 was little or no hope of her recovery. James was m an 
 agony of mind ; he could not believe that such grief was in 
 store for him. In a few days the crisis seemed to pass, and 
 his mother, to his intense relief, rallied. He determined, 
 notwithstanding this, to remain by her side instead of return- 
 ing to Oxford to keep Term. As the days dragged wearily 
 by matters did not improve. It was evident that his 
 mother was sinking. She was very happy and peaceful. 
 As for James, he wrote: "We had but a melancholy 
 Christmas Day, and mournfully closed the year. The 
 doctor gives my mother no hope, and yet there seems to be 
 hope. I cannot but hope — I must hope." 
 
 He found time, in the midst of this racking anxiety, to 
 run up to Oxford, at the urgent request of his friends there, 
 to settle a quarrel which had occurred in the St. Mary Hall 
 Boat Club. But, having set matters straight, and prevailed 
 upon the then Captain to resign, he at once returned to Hurst. 
 On February 14th his mother submitted to the operation ot 
 tapping. She bore it with a patient resignation which was 
 deeply touching to her husband and children. She got, 
 however, very little relief. On the 24th, James writes : 
 " Very, very ill." On the 26th : " I went in to her at eight 
 a.m., and at once saw that the end could not be far ofF. 
 She was alm®st unconscious. She kept dozing and rousing, 
 and commencing sentences. Especially she would repeat 
 again and again : ' I will take the stony heart out of their 
 flesh, and will give them an heart of flesh. I will take — I 
 will take the stony heart away — away.' " 
 
 So the bright, active, brave spirit, which in so many 
 points resembled that of her favourite son, went down, step by 
 step, to the brink of the still river; and her son would hardly 
 let her go — would have held her, but could not. About 
 three o'clock in the afternoon she ceased her broken utter- 
 ances ; at about five o'clock her arms, which had o-ently 
 
^t. 24.] His Mother's Death. 6j 
 
 swayed to and fro, moved no longer, and at seven she died 
 in the presence of all her children. After the last reverent 
 look, the others moved sadly away. As for James, he fell 
 on her face, and kissed her, and cried to her, as though she 
 could still hear him. Scarce knowing what he said, he 
 besought her again and again to come back to him — not to 
 leave him when he most wanted her. By and by came the 
 faithful old nurse, and, with gentle compulsion, led him away. 
 
 Mrs. Hannington had always felt an almost morbid 
 dread lest she should be buried before life was actually 
 extinct. She had mentioned this to her son, and he had 
 promised that he would assure himself that death had taken 
 place before the interment. This explains the following 
 note : " I promised my mother to see her six times after she 
 was dead. I saw her seven, and there could not be the 
 slightest doubt that she was gone." 
 
 Indeed, it was almost impossible to tear him away from 
 her bedside. He would sit there in the silent gloom, hour 
 after hour, plunged in grief that refused to be comforted. 
 Or he would be found kneeling by that figure so mysterious 
 and still beneath its enveloping sheet. They had to coax 
 and almost to compel him from the presence of the dead in 
 order that he might take rest or meals. On Saturday, March 
 20th, the funeral took place in the Parish Church of Hurst- 
 pierpoint. "Hundreds attended, coming from miles round.''' 
 
 So the desire of his eyes was taken away at a stroke. 
 
 It is clear to us now why this should have been. His 
 heart was to be emptied that it might be filled with that only 
 love which does not fade, and which cannot be taken away. 
 Had James Hannington written an epitaph upon his mother's 
 tomb, it would have been couched in some such terms as 
 that most touching inscription in a Paris cemetery — '■'■Dots 
 en paix^i ■ma 7nere ; ton fils {oMira toujours." Her 
 memory always exercised over him a hallowing influence. 
 Nevertheless, it was, perhaps, needful for him that the 
 human voice should speak no more words of advice and 
 sympathy, that he might be taught to listen for the sound of 
 that " still, small voice " which whispers to those who have 
 ears to hear: " This is the way, walk thou in it." 
 
68 James Hannington. [A.D. 1872, 3. 
 
 In May, 1872, Hannington successfully passed his 
 " Moderations," and resided for some time in the house of 
 Mr. Morfill, of Oriel, with whom he decided to read for 
 his next Examination. After a short vacation he continued 
 his studies with Mr. Rumsey, and determined that he would 
 put an end to trifling, and pass the final examination for his 
 Degree as soon as possible. 
 
 The following entry occurs for October 1 8th : — " Father, 
 Bessie, and Blanche Gould came to stop at Oxford a few 
 days. Took them to hear Canon Liddon, who preached a 
 magnificent sermon." A few days later a letter appeared 
 on his breakfast table, in which his father announced his 
 intention of marrying again, and that the latter lady 
 had consented to become his wife. This second marriage 
 turned out very happily, and by and by Hannington, no 
 doubt, understood that it was better thus than that his father 
 should be left to brood over his grief in a house from which 
 his children had flown to make homes for themselves. But 
 coming so soon after the death of his mother, to whom he 
 knew that his father had been tenderly attached, it is not to 
 be wondered at if, at first, the new alliance troubled him, or 
 that his diary should record his feelings in the words, " I am 
 terribly cut up and cast down." 
 
 He set to work, however, in good earnest to bring to a 
 close his already too prolonged University course, and, early 
 in December, passed with credit the first part of " Greats." 
 
 On May 15th, 1873, he rowed for the last time in the 
 " eight." " Bumped Keble." " Should have caught Exeter, 
 but No. 3 caught a crab instead." Apparently the crew 
 rather fell to pieces towards the end of the week, for the 
 next entry runs : " Of all atrocious horrors, this is the 
 most disgusting. VVe have been re-bumped by Keble ! " 
 
 '■'■ May -X%th. — Lunched at Morfill's. 3 p.m., garden 
 party at Morrell's. 9 p.m., ball at Masonic Hall, given by 
 Ashmead-Bartlett." And so on through a list of " Com- 
 memoration " festivities. 
 
 On June I2th Hannington took his B.A. Degree. 
 
CHAPTER VII. 
 
 THE TURNING POINT. ORDINATION. — THE GREAT 
 
 CHANGE. 
 
 (1873-74.) 
 
 " I have been from my childhood alway of a Tumorous and 
 stormy nature." Luther. 
 
 " We took sweet counsel together, and walked in the house of 
 God as friends." Ps. Iv. 14. 
 
 " O most sweet Lord Jesus, by Thy holy Infancy, Youth, 
 Baptism, Fasting, scourges, buffets, thorny crown, — Deliver us." 
 
 St. Anselm. 
 
 *' About this time/' Hannington writes, " a different tone 
 began to steal over me insensibly., I prayed more." 
 
 About this time also a certain friend of his who had 
 recently received Holy Orders, and who was serving as 
 Curate in a country parish in Surrey, began to think of him. 
 In the solitude of his lodgings, when the day's work was 
 done, and he was alone with his own thoughts, his mind 
 would rest lovingly upon old college friendships. He 
 thought of James Hannington — gay, impetuous, friendly, 
 fun-loving Jim — and gradually it was laid upon his heart to 
 pray for him. Why, he could not tell ; but the burden of 
 that other soul seemed to press upon him more heavily day 
 by day. He had not had much experience in dealing with 
 souls J he had but a short time before learned the meaning 
 of" effectual, fervent prayer; " he would have been called 
 " a babe " by St. Paul ; not yet even a " young man," much 
 less " a father." But his life had been transformed within 
 him, and filled with a new and most radiant joy. He knew 
 himself redeemed, and in union with the Father of Spirits 
 with whom is no changeableness, neither shadow of turning. 
 He could not now have lived over again that old college life 
 
70 James Hanningion. [A.D. 1873. 
 
 of his as once he had been content to live it. He thought 
 of many friends. To some he spoke, and tried to make 
 them partakers with him of his new-found benefit. For 
 some he sought to pray, but for none can he ever remember 
 to have prayed with such a distinct sense that he must pray 
 as for James Hannington. I find the following entry in 
 Hannington's diary : 
 
 "■July i^tk. opened a correspondence with 
 
 me to-day, which I speak of as delightful ; it led to my 
 
 conversion. 
 
 Young men are not, as a rule, good correspondents, and 
 between these twain no letter had passed for nearly two 
 years. Communication was re opened in the following manner. 
 A pair of skates was the ostensible cause. The Curate 
 found them, with other rubbish, in a box full of odds and 
 ends, and, holding them in his hand, remembered that they 
 had belonged to Hannington, with whom, after the manner 
 of chums, he had held many things in common. Then and 
 there he sat down and wrote to Hurstpierpoint, asking his 
 friend in what quarter of the world he might be found, and 
 whither he would wish those same skates to be sent. The 
 letter was forwarded to Martinhoe. In due time came a 
 kindly response. " Glad to hear from you again. Never 
 mind the skates ; keep them, or throw them away — any- 
 thing you like ; but tell me about yourself," and so 
 on. Then followed the news that he was meditiiting 
 ordination ; was not sure that he was as fit as he ought to 
 be, with more to the same effect, all written lightly enough, 
 but with a certain something of seriousness which induced 
 the Curate to think that the opportunity he had been seeking 
 might have, perchance, arrived. 
 
 He resolved to avail himself of the opening thus o-iven, 
 though not without a certain dread. He was naturally loth 
 to lose the friendship of one for whom he entertained a 
 warm affection. He remembered Hannington's openly ex- 
 pressed dislike of religious enthusiasm, and his contempt for 
 all canting protestations of superior piety. It was not with- 
 out a mental struggle that he determined to lay bare his own 
 
JEt. 26.] A Repulse. 71 
 
 heart to an eye only too probably unsympathetic. It 
 seemed likely that this letter of his might open a wide gulf 
 between them. Still, if friendship was to be lost, it should 
 be at least well lost. So he reasoned, and, with prayer for 
 guidance, just wrote a simple, unvarnished account of his 
 own spiritual experience ; tried to explain how it had 
 come to pass that he was not as formerly ; spoke of the 
 power of the love of Christ to transform the life of a 
 man, and draw out all its latent possibilities ; and finally 
 urged him, as he loved his own soul, to make a definite 
 surrender of himself to the Saviour of the world, and 
 join the society of His disciples. This done, the Curate 
 walked, not without misgivings as to the wisdom of the 
 course he had adopted, to the miscellaneous little shop 
 which did duty in the village as drapery and grocery store, 
 post-office, and what not, and dropped his letter into the box. 
 
 For thirteen months no answer was returned. Prayer 
 was made without ceasing, and still under the sense of a 
 burden imposed, but there was no response. The Curate 
 concluded that his letter had been consigned to the obli- 
 vion of the waste-paper basket. 
 
 He was, however, wrong. During those months events 
 were happening at Martinhoe. The Hand of God was not 
 idle, and the seed was germinating. 
 
 " Thou visitest the earth, and waterest it : 
 Thou greatly enrichest it ; 
 The river of God is full of water ; 
 
 Thou providest corn, when Thou hast so prepared the earth ; 
 Thou waterest her furrows abundantly ; 
 'Thou settlest the ridges thereof : 
 Thou makest it soft with showers ; 
 Thou blessest the springing thereof : 
 Thou crownest the year with Thy gladness." — Ps. Ixv. 
 
 But seed, whether sown in the heart of a man or in the 
 furrows of the field, must be allowed time to develop and 
 strike root. The husbandman must not be impatient, but 
 wait for the " crown of the year." 
 
 Seed had been sown in Hannington's heart which was 
 not destined to perish ; but that heart still needed further 
 preparation for its upspringing. We may compare the 
 
72 James Hannington. [A.D. 1873. 
 
 events that followed, with their wholesome laceration of 
 his pride, to the harrow in the Hand of his God. 
 
 On September 8th he writes: "The Bishop has put 
 the exam, a week earlier, which will, I doubt, entirely undo 
 me, as I have left my Prayer Book for the last fortnight's 
 reading." He had yet, then, to learn that " cramming," 
 however permissible in other cases, should have no place in 
 an examination for such a charge as that. He goes on to 
 record : — 
 
 '■'■Sept. \-]ih. — Exeter; in uncomfortable lodgings. Did 
 a paper at 9.30; fairly well. 11.30, another paper; did 
 well. 1.30, dined with the Bishop. 5.30, another paper. 
 8 p.m., chapel, with a sermon from the Bishop. 
 
 " 18/"/;. — Over-read last night. Passed a sleepless night ; 
 woke exceedingly unwell. Three more papers, one of 
 which was the Prayer Book. Unable to do anything ; had 
 been disappointed of a week's reading, and was also very ili. 
 
 " iC)th. — Another bad night. Three more papers ; and on 
 the 20th was, as I thought, unkindly dismissed by the Bishop 
 — ' I am sorry to say that your paper on the Prayer Book is 
 insufficient. If you go down to Mr. Percival, he will tell 
 you all about it. Good morning.' I was so confounded 
 that I was nearly overwhelmed with despair. Mrs. Dovell 
 told me afterwards that she thought I should have died or 
 gone off my head." 
 
 Hannington told me, some time after, that the shame 
 and confusion of his failure came upon him at first as a 
 sickening blow. He thought that he should never raise his 
 head again. Then, as he thought of his own unwisdom 
 and of the Bishop's hard manner towards him, he gave way 
 to an ungovernable burst of passion. He was filled with 
 furious madness, partly against himself, and partly at the 
 recollection of what seemed like an insult inflicted on him. 
 He was suffering himself to be swept along upon the full 
 tide of this stormy mood, when suddenly the thought struck 
 him, as though he heard spoken words of warning, " If 
 you can give way like this, are you fit to offer yourself as a 
 minister of Christ ? " 
 
^t. 26.] Tempted to Draw Back. 73 
 
 He was sobered in an instant. It seemed to him that 
 his defeat had been ordered in the providence of God. He 
 resolved to accept it humbly, and to strive to approve him- 
 self a more worthy candidate upon another occasion. 
 
 Hannington now went back to Oxford, in order that he 
 might read with Mr. Morfill. The following sad occurrence 
 impressed him : " Loyd, one of our men, cut his throat 
 last night. This has thrown a gioom over the place. He 
 is just alive. He did it from despair about the schools ; 
 but his mind was evidently affected." 
 
 He wrote, about this time : " How I dread ordination ! 
 I would willingly draw back ; but when I am tempted to 
 do so I hear ringing in my ears, ' Whoso putteth his hand 
 to the plough, and looketh back, is not fit for the kingdom 
 of God.' What am I to do? What.?" 
 
 When it is remembered that Hannington was possessed 
 of a sufficient competency, and that at this time he had as 
 large an income as ever in his life, it will be plain that he 
 was not influenced in his decision to persevere by any 
 monetary considerations. 
 
 The temptation to lead the independent life of a private 
 gentleman, and to occupy himself with his favourite scientific 
 pursuits, must have been very strong. Many young men 
 in his position would have easily succumbed to it. As an 
 explorer, or in independent research into the vast realm of 
 natural history, he might easily have distinguished himself, 
 and satisfied any thirst of ambition which might possess him. 
 He was his own master. The whole world was open 
 before him ; and he was one who would never have let 
 time drag heavily, or have been at a loss for employment 
 and interest. 
 
 It is characteristic of the man that he should have 
 shaken this temptation from him, and, with steady deter- 
 mination, faced what he now dreaded with an almost morbid 
 fear. His conscience would not have absolved him else. 
 " Whoso putteth his hand to the plough, and looketh back, 
 is not fit for the kingdom of God." Those words held him 
 fast to his purpose. 
 
 The end of 1873 found Hannington back at Martinhoe, 
 
74 James Hannington. [A.D. 1874. 
 
 among the Devon farmers. He went to one of those 
 parties described before, and danced the old year out. 
 Having performed this rite, he returned to Oxford, where 
 he took part in a series of gaieties, and then started for Exeter, 
 to face once more the Bishop's Chaplain and his papers. 
 
 He was terribly nervous and agitated ; could not sleep 
 at all that first night. He faced his papers next morning in 
 such a frame of mind that it was impossible he could do 
 his best. He was one of those men for whom an examina- 
 tion has real terrors. What he knew best and most accu- 
 rately, on such occasions fled out of his mind, and left him 
 in a state of helpless blankness. 
 
 There are some men who never show their powers so 
 well as across a green baize tablecloth, and confronted by 
 two examiners. They pass everything with ease and credit, 
 and afterwards disappoint the expectations of their friends. 
 There are others who, though hopelessly stumbled under 
 such circumstances, and able to bring to the front nothing 
 that they know, yet leave their mark upon the world. 
 Hannington was one of the latter sort. 
 
 On the present occasion he was thoroughly well prepared 
 in his various subjects; but by the time the examination 
 drew to a close he had worked himself into such a state of 
 nervous excitement, that it was almost impossible for him to 
 do himself credit. 
 
 On the fourth day of the examination he was summoned 
 into the presence of the Bishop. He was told that his 
 paper showed evidence of hard and conscientious reading, 
 but that his matter had been badly handled (how could it be 
 otherwise, poor fellow, when his ideas were utterly muddled 
 and gone astray !) ; and, in fine, that he must remain a 
 deacon for two years, and come up for an intermediary 
 examination. With this information, and — " You've got fine 
 legs, I see : mind that you run about vour parish. Good 
 morning" — he was dismissed. 
 
 The following day (March 1st) the Ordination took 
 place in the Cathedral. 
 
 Through the silent aisles sounds the Archdeacon's 
 voice — 
 
^t. 26.] Ordination. 75 
 
 " Reverend Fatlier in God, T present iinto you these 
 persons present to be admitted Deacons." 
 
 Then, after the heart-stirring petitions of the Litany, the 
 Bishop is heard to ask : — 
 
 " Do you trust that you are inivardly moved by the 
 Holy Ghost to take upon you this office and ministration, to 
 serve God for the promoting of His Glory, and the edify- 
 ing of His people ? " 
 
 A moment's silence, and then from each candidate the 
 answer — 
 
 " / trust so." 
 
 And there can be little doubt that Hannington made 
 this answer with all sincerity, according to the light he then 
 possessed. That Ordination was to him very awful, and 
 full of solemnity. Behind Bishop and officiating clergy, he 
 saw One to whose awful Majesty he had consecrated the 
 service of his life. 
 
 " So," said he to himself, as he left the Cathedral, " I 
 am Ordained, and the world has to be crucified in me. O 
 for God's Holy Spirit ! " 
 
 The next day he met the Principal in the Quadrangle of 
 St. Mary Hall. " He, having known me in my wildest 
 and noisiest times, said, in his dry way, ''I am not certain 
 whether you are to be congratulated or not.'" 
 
 On the Sunday following, Hannington assisted in the 
 Services at Hurst, and preached his first sermon, which he 
 pronounces — probably not without reason — to have been 
 " feeble, in fact, not quite sound." In spite of the con- 
 gratulations of his friends, he tore it up. 
 
 The next Sunday he commenced his duty as Curate of 
 Trentishoe. The people crovi^ded into the little church to 
 see their old friend in his new garb. Alas ! he had not yet 
 much to the purpose to say to them. Services in those 
 parts were conducted in a primitive manner enough. Take 
 the following example : — " I went over to Parracombe. 
 
 " Clerk : ' We are going to have service in the school- 
 room this evening;, sir. We like it better.' 
 
James Hannington. 
 
 [A.D. 1874. 
 
 " ' Oh ; well, what does Mr. Leakey do ? ' 
 
 " ' Why, sir, he reads, prays extempore, and expounds. 
 
 He don't preach no sermon^ and don't wear no gown 
 
 " I, dreadfully nervous : ' I think I will read the Evening 
 
 Service, Jones. Is there a Bible ? ' 
 
 " ' No, sir, there aint; he do bring his own with him.' 
 " More nervous than ever, I gave out a hymn. Then, 
 
 while they were singing it, in came a surplice, which I put 
 
 on. Next a lamp, which was most acceptable. 
 
 curate's rooms at martinhoe. 
 
 " I then said I would read the Litany ; so I commenced. 
 Then a Bible was found and thrust on to the table, so I was 
 able to read a Lesson. Then came the most trying ordeal. 
 The table was quite low. I had not my glasses, and did 
 not like to hold my sermon-case up before me, sol had to 
 lean on my elbows, stick my legs out behind me, and thus read 
 painfully through my paper. Moral: 'Learn to preach and 
 pray without book.' '' 
 
 Ah, me ! Was there ever such a Curate before or 
 since ! Let us hear him describe himself : — 
 
 " Here I am, a lone man, living in a singularly out-of- 
 
^t. 26.] A Country CuraU at Home. 77 
 
 the-way place, Curate of Martinhoe and Trentishoe ; clad 
 in a pair of Bedford-cord knee-breeches of a yellow colour, 
 continued below with yellow Sussex gaiters (' spats ') with 
 brass buttons. Below these a stout pair of nail boots, four 
 inches across the soles, and weighing fully four pounds. 
 My upper garment, an all-round short jerkin of black cloth, 
 underneath which an ecclesiastical waistcoat^ buttoning up 
 at the side. N.B. — The two latter articles of clothing I 
 always wear. I am seated in as pleasant a room as you 
 would wish to see. Wilton carpet, old china, piano, arm- 
 chairs, numberless pictures, and large candelabras. Only 
 there is no fire, and it is very cold — but alas ! my chimney 
 smokes." 
 
 That last item is not to be wondered at^ as the cottage 
 in which he took up his abode was close under a steep hill, 
 and a strong down draught was almost inevitable. 
 
 Paying a visit to a parish in Essex where he had to 
 respect the conventionalities and don the usual clerical 
 habiliments, he says : " I found it a great burden going 
 about in black clothes and top hat ! I never could stop in 
 such a place ! " 
 
 I find just here a note of his first missionary meeting, 
 which is interesting in view of his future life : 
 
 "July 'ipth. — I went to my first missionary meeting at 
 Parracombe. I was made to speak, much against my will, 
 as I know nothing about the subject, and take little interest 
 in it. There was an old Colonel Simpson, who spoke after 
 me, and gave me such an indirect dressing, that I made up 
 my mind never in future to speak on any subject until I 
 knew something about it." 
 
 The rough work of a Devonshire parish exactly suited 
 Hannino-ton's temperament. Such adventures as the 
 following were quite to his mind : — 
 
 " As I had ridden my pony more than fifty miles last 
 week, and had a hard ride yesterday, I determined, instead 
 of going round by the road, to cross Exmoor, to take duty 
 at Challacombe. When I got on to the moor a dense fog 
 
78 James Hanningion. [A.D. 1874- 
 
 came on^ and I soon lost my way. I galloped up hill and 
 down in mist and rain from nine till eleven, which was the 
 hour of Church Service, and then was still as much lost as 
 ever. I determined to give up church, throw the reins on 
 the pony's neck, and let him take me back home. Presently 
 I struck a track which promised at least to lead somewhere, 
 so once more clapping spurs to my pony, I galloped 
 along, and soon came to a gate which led me off the 
 moor. This track brought us to a farmhouse, and there a 
 man volunteered to accompany me, " for,''-' said he^ " you 
 will lose yourself again if I don't." I arrived at church, 
 and found the people sitting patiently in the pews, discussing 
 with one another whether I would turn up. They all 
 thought I was lost. I whispered to the clerk how it had 
 happened. ' Iss,' said he in loud tones, ' we reckoned you 
 was lost, but now you are here, go and put on your surples, 
 and be short, for we all want to get back to dinner.' 
 Dripping wet as I was, I put on the surplice over all, and 
 gave them a shortened service. In the afternoon I got back 
 in time for church at Martinhoe." 
 
 So he spent his time among those scattered hamlets, 
 doing the best he knew ; and doing it with all his heart. 
 Riding on his rough Exmoor pony with his Prayer Book in 
 one pocket of his shooting jacket, and medicines for some 
 sick person in another. Welcomed everywhere. Admired 
 by the young men and beloved by the aged, to whom he was 
 as a son. They forgot that he had come among them as a 
 stranger, and treated him as though he were a boin son of 
 the soil. 
 
 The life was entirely after his own heart, and yet he was 
 not happy. The people were content with him, but he was 
 not content with his own ministrations to them. He was 
 parson, doctor, family friend, all in one. He felt that 
 he could be of some use to the poor and needy. He 
 sat up long nights with the sick and dying. His purse 
 was always at the command of those in want. He could 
 and did sometimes preach vehement sermons against pre- 
 valent vices, such as immorality, and excessive drinking at 
 " wakes " and feasts, but he could not preach the " Word 
 
^t. 26.] A Messenger wiilioitt a Message. 79 
 
 of Life." As he visited the sick and dying, or "read 
 Prayers" in bald-looking, uncared-for country churches, 
 and held up his manuscript sermon to his eyes in presence 
 of sleepy audiences of tired labouring folk, he realized tliat 
 ever more keenly. He was not givuig them the Word of 
 Life. How could he, when he did not himself possess the 
 secret of that Life ! The burden of his great responsibility 
 weighed upon him more heavily every day. He began to 
 understand, as he had never understood before, that he was 
 not right with God. God's ordained Messenger with no 
 Message to deliver — that was his position. A position, to his 
 transparently- honest soul, altogether insupportable. He 
 began to be in great distress. 
 
 Some thirteen months had passed since that letter 
 bearing the post-mark of a Surrey village had reached him. 
 It had not been answered.- The friend who wrote that 
 letter had concluded it burnt, perhaps with indignation, or, 
 maybe, with scornful contempt. How could he know that 
 it had been treasured up, read, and re-read, and that it 
 would prove to be the turning-point of a life ! 
 
 But Hannington's own words will best describe the phases 
 of his mind during this important period of his careers, — 
 
 "And now," he says, "comes a tale of surpassing 
 
 interest to me. More than a year ago wrote me 
 
 a letter. I did not answer it, although the impression it 
 made never left me. Time passed on, and I knew that I 
 was not right. I sought and sought most earnestly, at 
 times being in terrible bondage of spirit, and doubts, and 
 fears. I began to despair of ever coming to the knowledge 
 
 of the Truth. At length I again wrote to , and 
 
 begged him to come and pay me a visit. Most earnestly 
 did I pray that he might come and bring me light, as 
 Ananias did to St. Paul." 
 
 This letter ran as follows : 
 
 "My dear Colonel,* — Can you come and see me? 
 Even a short visit. I am in much distress of soul and want 
 your advice. I am so sorry that I did not answer your last 
 
 * A nickname by which his friend was known at college 
 
8o James Hannington. [A.D. 1874. 
 
 letter. It was not, I assure you, through want of interest 
 in its contents. It has never been off my table during the 
 past year, and I have read it again and again. Do come 
 and see me if you can. — Yours, 
 
 "James Hannington." 
 
 Alas ! his friend was not master of his own time. He 
 could not be spared from his work at the busiest time of the 
 year to make a journey into distant Devonshire. He was 
 strangely moved by this marvellous response to his prayers. 
 He now understood how it was that the burden of that 
 soul had never ceased to press upon him during all that 
 time. He at once did what he was able. He wrote what 
 he thought might be helpful to one in spiritual darkness and 
 distress ; he invited Hannington to come and see him j 
 and laying his hand upon the only suitable book which he 
 then happened to have upon his writing table, sent it with 
 the letter to Martinhoe. This book was " Grace and 
 Truth," by the late Dr. Mackay, of Hull. A book which» 
 if somewhat crude and dogmatic in its statements, and apt 
 thereby to repel, has at least the merit of stating its facts in 
 a clear and forcible manner. The index finger may be a 
 rude one, but it points plainly and emphatically where lies 
 that narrow path which leads through the Cross of Jesus 
 to eternal life. 
 
 Hannington was dreadfully disappointed. He writes : — 
 " I was in despair. It seemed to sound my death- 
 knell. I thought the Lord would not answer me." 
 
 He sent the following to his friend : — 
 
 "My dear Colonel, — Many thanks for thinking 
 of me. I cannot possibly come to you. I wish that [ 
 could ; and that for many reasons : one is that darkness, 
 coldness and barrenness have seized hold upon me and 
 I cannot shake them off. I am, I don't know in what 
 state, unless I am being bound by the devil hand and foot. 
 But I mean to fight him desperately hard, if only I am 
 helped. I cannot do it alone. Oh, for strcno-th to rise 
 and triumph ! — Yours very affectionately, 
 
 "James Hannington." 
 
/Et. 26.] Crying for the Light. 8i 
 
 Shortly after came the following, in rep'y to another 
 letter : — 
 
 " My dear Colonel, — I am so much obliged to you 
 for remembering me. I can assure you that I appreciate it 
 deeply. There are few to whom one seems united in a 
 bond closer than that of relationship ; at least, I know very 
 few to whom I can really open my heart as I can to you. 
 
 I feel depressed at the fact that, when I would 
 
 do good, evil is present with me. I have no faith, I can 
 lay hold of nothing. I cannot believe that I can ever be 
 saved ; and I feel that I have no right to preach to others. 
 I try to feel that God willeth not the death of a sinner, but 
 no, I can preach it, and feel it for other persons, not for 
 myself. How few rays of light seem to shine upon me ! 
 "Will the sun ever break through the clouds so that I shall 
 be able to say, ' Jesus is mine and I am His ' .? I shall try 
 and visit you if I can. Very many thanks for the book ; I 
 will read it shortly. — Yours very affectionately, 
 
 " James Hannington." 
 
 As Hannington could not obtain an interview with his 
 friend, he turned to the book which he had sent. In his 
 private diary he writes : — 
 
 " I determined to read every word of the book. So I 
 began with the preface. Here I soon perceived that the 
 book was unscholarly, for the argument is built upon 
 Matt. XV. 27, ' Truth, Lord,' which the author treats as 
 akrjOeia instead of the exclamation val. This was enough 
 for me. I therefore threw the book away and refused to 
 read it." 
 
 We may observe here that Hannington was wrong. 
 Dr. Mackay does not make the mistake with which he 
 hastily charged him. It m.ight be possible for a reader to 
 suppose that he confuses the two words because he does not 
 take sufficient care to make it clear that the word rendered 
 " Truth " in Matt. xv. 27, is not the same word as 
 " Truth " in the passage " Grace and Truth." He cer- 
 tainly does not take proper care to guard the reader against 
 the supposition that no play upon the words is intended. 
 
 6 
 
82 James Hannington. [A. D. 1874. 
 
 But it cannot be fairly urged that he has perpetrated in his 
 preface a piece of palpable and gratuitous ignorance. He 
 apparently intends to deduce from the Syrophenician woman's 
 " Truth, Lord," no more than an unqualified assent to the 
 statement of Christ with regard to her. 
 
 But Hannington was in no mood to have mercy upon 
 the book or its author. His heart was sore that he could 
 not have his friend. The poor book had to stand the kicks. 
 Moreover the blunt dogmatism of its tone, effective enough 
 with a certain class of minds, did not fall in with his then 
 line of thought. He was evidently glad of any excuse 
 to condemn the book and throw it aside, on the principle 
 that " any stick is good enough to beat a dog with." 
 
 So " Grace and Truth " lay in a corner unread 
 for some little while. He shall himself narrate what 
 followed. 
 
 "When I left on the i6th of September for Exeter and 
 
 St. Petherwyn, I spied that old book and said, ' is sure 
 
 to ask me if 1 have read it. I suppose I must wade through 
 it; ' and so stuffed it into my portmanteau. At Petherwyn 
 I took the book out and read the first chapter. I disliked 
 it so much that I determined never to touch it again. I 
 don't know that I did not fling it across the room. I rather 
 think I did. So back into my portmanteau it went, and 
 remained until my visit to Hurst, when I again saw it, and 
 thought I might as well read it, so as to be able to tell 
 
 about it. So once more I took the ' old thing,' 
 
 and read straight on for three chapters or so, until at last I 
 came to that called ' Do you feel your sins forgiven ? ' By 
 means of this my eyes were opened." 
 
 His anxiety had been great. His search for the "hidden 
 treasure" had been long, continuous and painful. His joy 
 was now correspondingly great. His pent-up feelings 
 rushed forth in a torrent of thanksgiving. Like a " cer- 
 tain man " of old Jerusalem, who " entered into the temple 
 walking and leaping and praising God," so he could not 
 contain his gladness within the bounds of quietness. He 
 
^t. 27.] Conversi 
 
 83 
 
 shook off the chains of darkness and bounded into the LVht 
 He says : ° 
 
 " I was in bed at the time reading. I sprang out of bed 
 and leaped about the room rejoicing and praising God that 
 Jesus died for me. From that day to this * I have lived 
 under the shadow of His wings in the assurance of faith 
 that I am His and He is mine." 
 
 And truly it was even so. Yet did he not immediately 
 enter into the /«// assurance of faith. For some time after 
 his enlightenment he was, to use his own favourite expres- 
 sion, subject to fits of " bondage." His old life would 
 assert itself strongly. He could not all at once shake off 
 the habits of thought which had become natural to him. 
 He had his periods of darkness and light, despondency and 
 rejoicing. But he fought a good fight, and little by little he 
 made sure his ground, until finally he emerged from the 
 mists into the full sunlight of the Father's smile. A de- 
 lightful and altogether helpful little tract entitled " Grippino- 
 and Slipping" describes the precarious state of a soul which 
 has not learned the secret of maintaining its grasp upon the 
 Hand of the ever-present Christ. Perhaps only they who 
 have had some humiliating experience of the " slipping " 
 state can fully appreciate the boundless security of him who 
 " grips." To the end of his life Hannington refused to 
 throw in his lot with those who apparently teach the possi- 
 bility of Peace without Conflict; but when once he haa 
 grasped that Hand, he followed the leading of the Spirit 
 with the unfaltering faith of a little child. Thereafter he 
 went straight forward, nothing wavering, to do the duty 
 that lay nearest to him. That he had learned the secret 01 
 " the overcoming life " could not but be recognized by 
 those who watched him closely and noticed with wondering 
 thankfulness how the old James Hannington was being, 
 day by day, remodelled into a new man ; the same, and 
 yet another, 
 
 * This note was written just before his second missionary 
 journey to Africa. 
 
84 James Hannington. [A.D. 1874. 
 
 The following letters will throw some light upon his state 
 of mind at this time : 
 
 "My dear Colonel, — .... Thechief object of my 
 letter is to tell you how very useful those two books you 
 have given me have been made to me. I have never seen so 
 much light as I have the last few days. I know now that 
 Jesus Christ died for me, and that He is mine and I am 
 His. And all this you are the human means of teaching 
 me. Perhaps to-morrow I shall be in doubt and despair, 
 but not as I have been before ; for I know that / believe^ 
 and I can tremblingly exclaim, ' Help Thou mine unbe- 
 lief.' Dear Colonel, what thanks I owe to you, and incom- 
 parably little with what I owe to God ! " 
 
 " 1 ought daily to be more thankful to you as the instru- 
 ment by which I was brought to Christ, and to know that 
 He died for me. Unspeakable joy ! " 
 
 " I have been rejoicing so lately that I fear it may come 
 from Satan puffing me up, for I do so little for Christ. My 
 prayers and praise are so dead and formal. I love the 
 things of this world so much, and Jesus so little, that 1 
 ought always to be mourning. ' Sorrowful yet always re- 
 joicing,' I know. Yet latterly I have been rejoicing, and 
 not sorrowful, although I have so much in me about which 
 I ought to lament. Do write and tell me am I wrong. 
 Can that peace be false which comes from the knowledge 
 of forgiveness of sins through the belief that Jesus died for 
 me ? No, never. I feel that it cannot, it cannot be 
 false (Tit. i. 2)." 
 
 " How wonderfully I have been led on from one thing 
 to another, though at the time imperceptibly ! I speak of 
 my choosing the Ministry when I was most unfit for it 
 Then again getting sent back from Exeter, when I now see 
 that to have passed the examination then would have been 
 the very worst thing that could have happened to me. 
 Again, our friendship, which for some time had been dor- 
 mant, renewing itself, and proving so extraordinarily useful 
 to me ! . . . I fear that the tone of this letter is shock- 
 ingly boastful, and one which I am not worthy to adopt. 
 
^t. 27.] A Humble Disciple. 85 
 
 You will have to set me back into a lower seat ! The Lord 
 keep me humble ! How much instruction I stand in need 
 of! Cease not to pray for me." 
 
 On the nineteenth of October in this year, 1874, 
 Hannington paid a visit to his correspondent in Surrey. 
 The stress of his great anxiety of mind had left its evident 
 traces upon him. He was far from well, and tired too with 
 his journey. He did not, moreover, find it so easy to talk 
 to an eld companion and sharer of his jests, as it had been 
 to write to him about the secrets of his soul. This just at first: 
 
 "Well, Colonel." 
 
 " Well, Jim." 
 
 " How are you, old fellow ? " 
 
 " Glad to see you, dear old man." 
 
 Then some conversation upon general subjects, old 
 friends, and old customs. But, by-and-by, when both had 
 settled into their chairs, and looked each other in the face, the 
 subject uppermost in their hearts could no longer be kept in 
 the background. The barriers ot reserve were broken down ; 
 and before long they found themselves telling each other 
 without constraint how the Lord had dealt with their souls. 
 
 That evening the Curate held a Cottage Lecture in a 
 distant part of the parish. Seeing that Hannington was worn 
 out and haggard-looking, he triea to persuade him to remain 
 at home. He, however, insisted that he should be allowed 
 to go. So arm in arm the two sallied forth. His friend 
 will not easily forget that walk. As they threaded their way 
 among the gravel pits, and crossed the mile of rough com- 
 mon and deep and muddy lanes, Hannington's conversation 
 was always upon the one subject. Having once conquered his 
 shyness, he laid bare his heart in the confidence of that hour. 
 
 When they reached the cottage he would not be per- 
 suaded to take any part in the service. He had come, he 
 said, as a learner ; he would sit among the audience. So he 
 quietly waited, while his friend went among the adjoining 
 cottages to gather in some laggards, and then took his place, 
 somewhere in a corner, among the group of poor folk who 
 crowded the little room. He was still, in his own estima- 
 tion, the humblest of disciples. 
 
86 James Hannington. [A.D. 1874- 
 
 I find the following note about this in his diary : 
 
 '■'■Evening. — To my great astonishment took a 
 
 Cottage Lecture. I feared that I never could do a thmg of 
 that sort." 
 
 His friend now urged him strongly to try, at least when 
 he was addressing small audiences of country people in 
 Devonshire, to preach extempore. Hitherto he had been 
 bound entirely and rigidly to his paper. Even in his private 
 devotions he seldom ventured beyond his book of prayers. 
 To his marked energy and decision of character he united 
 depreciation of himself and distrust of his own motives to a 
 singular degree. This made the study of his religious life 
 peculiarly interesting. Every step made toward spiritual 
 liberty was the result of close and unsparing self-examina- 
 tion. He would remorselessly probe his feelings and every 
 ramification of them before he would permit himself indul- 
 gence in any new "liberty." Never did any applv the 
 scalpel and dissecting knife more ruthlessly to his own " vile 
 body " than did James Hannington. 
 
 It was not long, however, before he saw plainly that it 
 was his duty to tell people what he knew, as the Lord had 
 told himself — and to tell it 'as simply as possible ; hence he 
 soon decided to discard the manuscript sermon, and adopt 
 the practice of taking his thoughts only into the pulpit, in 
 the form of notes, leaving the words that were to clothe 
 them to the inspiration of the moment. 
 
 T'hat visit was useful to both the friends. The one had 
 realized the meaning of that statement of Carlvle, " It is 
 certain my belief gains quite infinitely the moment I can con- 
 vince another mind thereof" The other left, encourao-ed to 
 go back to his charge among the Devonshire moors, and tell 
 all men boldly what great things the Lord had done for him. 
 
 I may, perhaps, be permitted to repeat here some words 
 written by his companion in recollection of this period : 
 
 " Very touching is it now to me to think of those days 
 in the light of his subsequent life. None who saw his 
 strong nature thus receiving the Kingdom of God as a little 
 
^t. 27.] Old Friends New Brothers. 87 
 
 child can ever doubt that to him it was granted to see that 
 Kingdom indeed. I shall not readily forget the morning on 
 which he departed. Together we got into the little two- 
 wheeled pony cart, and together we drove over the long 
 stretch of breeze-swept common which lies between Hale 
 and the Camp Station, at which he purposed to meet his 
 train. As mental impressions sometimes interweave them- 
 selves with scenery, and the memory of the one uncon- 
 sciously revives the other, so can I never dissociate that 
 drive from the interchange of thoughts for which it afforded 
 the opportunity. The white road, which undulates, now 
 past clumps of fir-trees, now between banks tipped with 
 yellow furze, again over long stretches of common, and the 
 bright freshness of that sunny morning, will be to me ever, 
 as it were, the binding of the volume of the book wherein 
 are wntcen many precious words." 
 
CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 WORK AT TRENTISHOF, AND DARLEY ABBEY. 
 
 (I875-) 
 " There is small chance of truth at the goal when there is not 
 child-like humility at the starting-post." COLERIDGE. 
 
 Hannington returned to Trentishoe in a very different 
 frame of mind from that in which he had quitted it. Like 
 that captain of the host of the King of Syria who went back 
 to his master with his flesh " like unto the flesh of a little 
 child," he felt himself to have become a new man. Some 
 little furtlier time, however, was to elapse before he would 
 fully realize all the conditions of his new life, or dare to 
 proclaim the Gospel of the Kingdom as one who had himself 
 been admitted to the fellowship of the Founder. 
 
 I do not note that his sermons became all at once 
 markedly evangelistic. It would have been very unlike him 
 if they had. Whatever faults he may have had, preaching 
 beyond his own experience was not one of them. Whether 
 or no he had read old John Byrom's advice to preachers, he 
 so far followed it, that 
 
 "he never dealt 
 In the false commerce of a truth unfelt." 
 
 In this lay much of the power of his preaching. He pro- 
 claimed what he knew. But this very honesty of his forbids 
 the supposition that his sermons were, at this time, upon a 
 higher level of spiritual life than that to which he himself 
 had attained. The freedom, the " unction," and the bless- 
 ing were soon to follow. In the meanwhile he resolved 
 that he would try what he could do without his hitherto 
 inseparable pulpit companion, the sermon-case. He says : 
 
 '■'■Sunday Morning. — I determined, at the eleventh hour 
 
^t. 27.] A " Stickit Minister." 89 
 
 that, by the help of God the Holy Spirit, I would preach 
 extempore, in spite of myself and my protestations to the 
 contrary. I had not, previous to this morning, prayed to 
 
 be led to do it, and so I felt it was in answer to 's 
 
 prayers. I succeeded a great deal better than I expected, 
 and have only once since, for the last ten years " (this was 
 written in 1884), "preached a written sermon. My plan has 
 ever since been to make rather copious notes." 
 
 Soon after he commenced extempore preaching he was 
 warned by the following painful occurrence, that to preach 
 without a manuscript entails not less preparation but more. 
 He was paying a visit to his father at Hurst, and was, of 
 course, asked to occupy the pulpit of St. George's. He 
 was very nervous, and, moreover, was not well, but, from 
 one cause or another, that sermon never got beyond the text. 
 The young preacher — on this occasion a " stickit minister " 
 indeed — had just sufficient presence of mind to dismiss the 
 astonished and sympathetic congregation with a hymn. 
 
 His friends justly attributed the above incident to the 
 fact that he was thoroughly run down in health ; and, indeed, 
 he was, by the doctor's orders, confined to his bed for nearly 
 a week. He would not, however, let himself off so easily. 
 He wrote to his friend: "Alas! my spiritual father, what 
 a sickly son you have ! — a Mr. Idlebones, Ease-in-the-flesh ; 
 a Mr. Chat-and-do-nothing — a carnal professor." 
 
 Similar misadventures have been chronicled of great 
 men, from Massillon to David Livingstone ; and if this acci- 
 dent were indeed the result of vain confidence and want of 
 faith, ne soon experienced the blessed truth embalmed in 
 the exquisite line of that old Latin hymn— 
 
 " Mergere nos patitur, sed non submergere Christus." * 
 
 A fortnight later he preached again in St. George's, and 
 this time with considerable power. His father, who now 
 heard him for the first time, was deeply moved ; so he was 
 encouraged to persevere. 
 
 In I'ebruary he was back once more in Devonshire, and 
 
 * Christ suffers us to sink, maybe, but not to drown. 
 
9° James Hannington. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 had his first experience of a " Parochial Mission." This 
 was conducted at Parracombe by Mr. John Wood 
 and the Vicar, Mr. Leakey, with whom he formed a 
 friendship which lasted until the end of his life. Han- 
 nington writes : " I went over there, and was delighted." 
 The next Sunday, in spite of a terrific storm, and heavy 
 snow-drifts which almost beat him back, he made his way 
 again to Parracombe, and preached to the anxious from 
 Rom. V. I. He was now able to speak as one who had 
 himself found " peace with God through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ." The text was an epitome of his own recent 
 experience. We are not surprised to learn that his sermon 
 was blessed, and made useful to several people. 
 
 This Mission gave him considerable impetus. He began 
 to feel that the Great King might have some definite work 
 for him too among His servants. That to him also had 
 been committed a talent. 
 
 That wild, harum-scarum Exmoor pony of his, which 
 was always falling, or otherwise putting his life in danger, 
 but which he kept " because it was so game " and " would 
 go down a clifF almost like the side of a house" without 
 flinching, carried him in every direction from cottage to 
 cottage and farm to farm. And he no longer went among 
 the people without a message. The Word of Life was now, 
 of all subjects, the nearest to his lips. An old man known 
 as "Carpenter Richards" died. There were not many 
 deaths in Martinhoe. Old Richards had been, in his youth, 
 in prison for smuggling. The last words he uttered were, 
 " I love Mr. Hannington." " Oh," writes Hannington in 
 his private diary, " that it had only been, ' I love the Lord 
 Jesus ! ' " 
 
 Opposite April 26th I find this entry : 
 
 " Sent for, instead of the doctor, to see a man " (here he 
 mentions symptoms), " a hopeless case, I pointed him to 
 the Saviour. My name down here as a medical man is 
 quite established, I am sent for in almost every case ; 
 which gives me the opportunity to speak to them about 
 their souls." 
 
^t. 27.] Boundless Energy. 91 
 
 " May Qjth, Sunday. — Rode about four miles to leave 
 some medicine. Then preached at Parracombe. Rode to 
 Walner. Saw man with inflammation. Found him 
 already dying. He followed me in prayer, and said some 
 nice things. Preached at Trentishoe. Returned to Walner. 
 Found patient unconscious. Evening, preached and held a 
 mission service in my own rooms, during which time, the 
 man, I hear, died." He thus rode some twenty miles that 
 day. 
 
 '■'■May \^tli. — Man came running to me to come at 
 once. A child drowned. I ran straight off at my top 
 speed, and found that the child had fallen into a tank, only 
 seventeen inches deep, but life was quite extinct. 
 
 " May i^th. — Sat on inquest as foreman of the jury, 
 and received a shilling for my pains ! " 
 
 " 20th. — Administered enema to a patient. Preached 
 to the Club at Lynton. Dined with them and returned 
 thanks for Bishop and clergy. Returned home with the 
 doctor and assisted him to make a post-mortem on the 
 child of the man who cursed me." This latter was 
 an ill-conditioned coastguard, who had, I imagine, taken 
 offence at Hannington's new views. 
 
 From the above extracts — and they are only samples of 
 many such— it will be seen that, although the souls over 
 whom he was placed in charge did not much exceed three 
 hundred, Hannington was not idle. Though the people were 
 few, the distances which had to be traversed, and the rough- 
 ness of the moorland roads and bridle paths, made the work 
 of such thorough supervision as he gave them far from easy. 
 
 There are men who work well under a pressing 
 sense of obligation to duty ; but it is against the grain. If 
 their consciences would let them, they would infinitely prefer 
 to " stand at case." Such men sink into the easiest available 
 chairs with a sigh of relief when their annual holiday sets 
 them free. To them relaxation means cessation from work. 
 
 There are others to whom work is a necessity. They 
 work at their profession with all their might, and they work 
 at their play with all their might. Hannington was one of 
 
92 
 
 James Hannington. 
 
 [A.D. 1875. 
 
 this sort. He was one of those Englishmen whose amuse- 
 ments so sorely puzzle our Continental neighbours. 
 
 When June of this year came round, and he thought 
 himself entitled to a holiday, he cast about for pastures new. 
 He had often looked wistfully seaward, where the cliffs of 
 Lundy Island rose in a purple line against the flame of golden 
 sunsets. Out on the extreme limit of the western horizon. 
 
 
 Lundy seems a foothold from which the happy traveller 
 might gaze out upon a new and more glorious world from 
 which he might take his flight » Far away, on from island 
 unto island at the gateways ot the day." The very " land 
 of far distances." Such to the poetic mind. To the natural- 
 ist it offers a field of great interest. Rare plants await 
 the botanist. There are "beetles" (under which term 
 Hannington classed the whole insect family) to reward the 
 
^t. 27.J 
 
 Adventures of an Egg-Hunter. 
 
 93 
 
 entomologist. The sea-shore teems with life, the sea with 
 nsh ; the clifFs are the haunts of myriads of sea-birds, which 
 deposit their eggs upon the ledges. There are caves to be 
 explored, bathing and climbing ad libitum. What more 
 can a reasonable man desire ? 
 
 Having persuaded a College friend, T. May, to join him, 
 Hannington sailed from Instow, and received a hearty 
 welcome at 
 the farm on 
 Lundy Island 
 from Mr. and 
 Mrs. Dovell. 
 There they 
 had what the 
 Americans 
 call a " good 
 time." They 
 wore their 
 oldest clothes, 
 fished, egged, 
 botanized and 
 explored to 
 their heart's 
 content. The 
 humorous 
 sketches, 
 which are re- 
 produced in 
 exact fac- 
 simile from a 
 bookofrhymes 
 
 which Hannington wrote for his little nephews and nieces, 
 describe some of the adventures of these two. They had 
 arrived in the height of the egging season. The birds lay 
 their pear-shaped eggs upon the narrow ledges of the most 
 inaccessible clifFs. To reach these the egg hunter arms 
 himself with an instrument called an egg-spoon, like a tiny 
 landing-net, at the end of a long, light rod. He is then 
 lowered over the edge, and fills his wallet with as many eggs 
 
94 
 
 James Hannington. 
 
 [A.D. 1875. 
 
 as he can reach. Hannington, partly for the sake of the 
 adventure, and partly to add some cormorant's eggs to his 
 collection, persuaded Mr. Dovell and his friend " Cluppins " 
 to let him down from the edge of a tremendous precipice. 
 They were more nervous than he, and got well laughed at by 
 the enthusiastic eggsman as he scrambled up again with the 
 contents of three nests 
 in his pockets. Whether 
 or not he really played 
 them the trick which he 
 has so spiritedly depicted 
 in the series of sketches, 
 I do not know. 
 
 The next day these 
 two big boys determined 
 to explore the recesses of 
 a dark cave much fre- 
 quented by seals. They 
 had to take off their 
 clothes and swim into 
 the entrance. They found 
 themselves standing at 
 the mouth of a deep cleft, 
 which wound its way for 
 some distance into the 
 darkness. On stooping 
 down to examine the 
 sand, they saw distinctly 
 many recent tracks of 
 seals. As the passage is ^ 
 very narrow and of utter 
 darkness, and the danger 
 of meeting an alarmed and frantic seal, in a place where 
 neither could pass the other, would not be small, his friend 
 very wisely counselled retreat. But there was never any 
 going back for those who followed Hannington, unless 
 indeed they deserted him and went back alone. This of 
 course, his friend had no thought of doing, and so the two 
 wormed their way inward till they reached a large chamber 
 
ALL 27.] 
 
 A?t Emu's Egg ! 
 
 95 
 
 called the Seals' Kitchen. Every moment they expected a 
 charge of sea- monsters, but when they arrived at the end 
 of their journey they found that the seals, which had taken 
 refuge there at high tide, had made their way out again just 
 before their own intrusion. 
 
 As their clothes were oft, and there are no summer 
 visitors to be scandalized on Lundy Island, they next 
 amused themselves by swimming to various places at the 
 foot of the sheer' cliffs, and climbing up, amid screaming, 
 circling seagulls, to the ledges where the shags had laid their 
 odd-shaped eggs. 
 
 The next sketch represents a harmless little joke of which 
 his hostess was the victim. An emu's egg has been given 
 to Hannington, about which he tells the children : 
 
 " While I was busy blowing eggs, 
 
 And this was by my side, 
 A lady coming at the time 
 
 At once this big egg spied. 
 ' O pray, declare, what have you there ? 
 
 Where did you get that egg ? 
 I >/nisi get one, let what will come ; 
 
 Please tell me how, I beg.' 
 
 ' A secret that ; I may not tell,' 
 
 To her I straight replied. 
 Then having put the egg away 
 
 Soon out again I hied. 
 My back was turned scarce half an hour : 
 
 She to the cupboard goes, 
 An,d to the eggers of this isle 
 
 The emu's egg she shows. 
 
96 
 
 Ja 
 
 Hannins;ton. 
 
 [A.D. 1875- 
 
 ' The strangers took it on the cliffs, 
 
 And, look you, I will pay 
 A goodly sum to any one 
 
 Who brings the like to-day.' 
 The eggers one and all left work; 
 
 Off with their spoons they run. 
 The master comes. Asks in a rage, 
 
 'What's of those wretches come.? 
 Unwilling strangers should them beat, 
 
 They hunted high and low 
 In every single breakneck place 
 
 Where mortal man could go. 
 
 But emus are not wont to lay 
 
 On fair Britannia's isle ; 
 And least of all on Lundy's clifts. 
 
 It really made us smile 
 To hear next day the fearful tramp 
 
 Those weary eggers had. 
 Returning tattered, pale, and thin, 
 
 And faces very sad." 
 
 Another sketch which is full of delicate ftin represents 
 himself, "Cluppins," and a boatman, fishing. The cono-er 
 eel just hauled into the boat is supposed to be asserting his 
 individuality after the manner of congers. 
 
 " ' Tis my delight on a shiny night 
 
 For conger eels to fish ; 
 Nor takes it long, if they bite strong, 
 
 To catch a splendid dish. 
 But as you haul them in your yawl 
 
 Look out and mind your leg, 
 They'll bite your calves right clean in halves 
 
 Though you may mercy beg." 
 
^t. 27.] 
 
 Uncle's Book of Fun. 
 
 97 
 
 ""T Whatever may be thought of the artistic merit of these 
 ■drawings of his — and it must be remembered that he never 
 practised drawing, nor, indeed, handled a pencil to any pur- 
 pose until he was about twenty-five years of age — it must be 
 acknowledged that they are full of life and movement. 
 
 They tell their own story. What they lack in correctness 
 they make up in vigour and a certain incisive humour which 
 gives them a distinct value of their own. This must be my 
 excuse for publishing them ; as for their author, he intended 
 these, and innumerable others of the same kind, only for the 
 eyes of the children at home — his little nephews and nieces 
 — for whose amusement he wrote his rhymes and illustrated 
 them. He was in the habit of turning his adventures into 
 easy-flowing, doggrel verse for the children. Hisrhvmes,if 
 collected, would form quite a volume. They are prefaced 
 thus : — 
 
 " Nephews and nieces, come this way, 
 
 And hear what Uncle has to say. 
 
 Oh ! such a funny man is he 
 
 As ever you may wish to see." 
 
 Johnnie, Katie, Toosie, run 
 
 To see your Uncle's book of fun. 
 
 And, as it's such a jolly day, 
 
 Let's ask for a half-holiday." 
 
 At about this time Mr. Hannington definitely pro- 
 posed to his son that he should return to Hurstpierpoint and 
 take charge of the Chapel of St. George. This did not at 
 the time commend itself to the mind of James. He was 
 now quite happy at Martinhoe. The people loved and 
 trusted him. His work was beginning to tell. The report 
 
 7 
 
9^ James Hannlngton. [A. D. 1875. 
 
 of his preaching, and the earnestness and power of it, had 
 gone abroad. Crowds would throng the little churches, 
 sometimes overflowing into porch and churchyard, when he 
 was expected. He loved his work too, and the people, and 
 the rough rides over stormy moors, and the wild sea-clifFs 
 and the sounding sea. The unconventionality of that life 
 thoroughly suited his temperament. 
 
 He felt, moreover, that, by accepting the charge of St. 
 George's he would be placing himself in a position of 
 peculiar difficulty. The people at Hurst had known him 
 since he was a child ; how could he hope to escape the 
 proverbial fate of the unhonoured prophet ? 
 
 Would he, moreover, prove as acceptable to the more 
 cultured denizens of the neighbourhood of Brighton as he 
 was to the untutored Devonians ? 
 
 With characteristic thoroughness he examined his own 
 heart on the subject, and strove to weigh the pros and cons 
 with an impartial hand. Perhaps the fact that told most 
 strongly for the acceptance of St. George's was his reluct- 
 ance to leave Martinhoe. He ever distrusted his own flesh, 
 and thought that, in doubtful cases, it was a good and safe 
 rule to run counter to its special pleading. 
 
 He had consulted me in the matter, and even made the 
 proposal that I should myself take St. George's. This I 
 was unable to do. He, therefore, concluded to leave him- 
 self entirely in the Hand of God, and to look upon the con- 
 sent or refusal of the two Bishops of Exeter and Chichester 
 as a sign whether or not he were to take the step. It 
 seemed quite possible that neither of the Bishops would 
 have wished him to undertake a new charge until he had 
 received his Priest's Orders. Thus the matter rested for a 
 while. I find the following prayer upon a loose sheet of 
 paper, upon which are written several arguments on both 
 sides of the question : — 
 
 " Dear Lord, mercifully reveal Thy Will in this matter. 
 Be Thou ever my Guardian and Guide." 
 
 So childlike was his spirit, and so simple his trust ! 
 
 As time went by, the answer to his prayer came in the 
 
JEt 27.] Darley Abbey. gg 
 
 gradual removal, one by one, of all the difficulties in the 
 way of his transfer. When both the Bishops signified their 
 assent, he felt that the matter had been taken out of his own 
 hands. The next thing was to prepare himself for his new 
 sphere of work. St. George's, though a curacy, is virtually 
 a sole charge. He would be thrown entirely upon his own 
 resources. He decided at once to leave Martinhoe, and to 
 spend some time with an experienced clergyman, from 
 whom he could learn something of the varied work and 
 organization of a well-ordered parish. 
 
 The Parish of Darley Abbey, a suburb of Derby, 
 seemed to offer precisely what he required. The population 
 consists of about a thousand persons, the families of workers 
 in two factories — a paper and a cotton mill. The parish 
 was a model of perfect organization. The Incumbent at 
 that time was the Rev. J. Dawson, who, by the combina- 
 tion of powerful and attractive preaching with close and 
 frequent house-to-house visitation, had filled, not only the 
 Church, but also his class-rooms, with large and eager audi- 
 ences. His v/eek-night Bible Classes had enrolled out of 
 that small population the unusual number of a hundred and 
 twenty women and between seventy and eighty men, all 
 regular attendants. His wife also conducted a Sunday 
 afternoon Bible Class for factory girls, at which about sixty 
 were usually present. 
 
 The efforts of the Vicar were backed up in the heartiest 
 manner by the Evans family, the proprietors of the mills. 
 By them the social and temporal affairs of the parish were 
 managed with a patriarchal hand. Every house belonged 
 to them, and was held by its tenant upon condition of 
 conformity to certain rules. Among these rules was the 
 singular one that every young man and woman should 
 attend the Sunday School until the age of eighteen. What- 
 ever may be said of such compulsion theoretically, in 
 practice it worked very well. The numbers who volun- 
 tarily attended the Bible Classes, Prayer Meetings, and 
 extra Services of the Church conclusively proved that the 
 people were not offended at the rule, and did not resent it. 
 There was no public-house in the village, and all provisions 
 
100 James Hannington. [A.D- 1875- 
 
 were supplied from one central store, of the best quality, and 
 at " Civil Service " prices. 
 
 This parish, then, seemed to offer a good illustration of 
 the manner in which intelligent working-people might be 
 successfully dealt with. Hannington resolved to abide there 
 for a while, and study the system thoroughly. 
 
 It was with a heavy heart that he went the round of his 
 old haunts and said good-bye to his friends. The dear old 
 cliffs, upon which he had had many a perilous scramble. The 
 sea-washed caves, down to which wound his famous path. 
 The wide moorland, over which he and his pony had so 
 often galloped. All these seemed doubly dear now, when 
 he was about to leave them, and seek the grimy fields which 
 lie beneath the smoke cloud of ever-vomiting factory 
 chimneys. The people, too, his beloved patients — his 
 warm-hearted Devonshire friends, with their quaint ways — 
 had never seemed so friendly or so desirable as now, when 
 he was to be separated from them. One of his humble 
 friends, who possessed the power of " blessing,''' seized the 
 opportunity while holding his hand at parting, and, before 
 Hannington knew what she was doing, "said words" 
 over his finger, which had been dangerously stung by some 
 poisonous fly. He was incredulous, but none the less grateful. 
 
 So, on August 17th, 1875, hs ^^^^ North Devon some- 
 what sadly. The hearty welcome, however, which greeted 
 him at the Parsonage of Darley Abbey, where his name was 
 already well known, did much to cheer him. He soon took 
 his place as one of themselves in the family circle, and 
 became, as usual, a prime favourite. 
 
 Dear old Miss Evans was then alive. Can anyone who 
 ever knew her mention her name without some epithet of 
 affection .? That massive red-brick mansion, which stood 
 within its own park-like grounds somewhat apart from the 
 village, was, to all intents and purposes, the palace of the 
 little kingdom of Darley Abbey. There Miss Evans ruled 
 supreme. She was then in her eighty-ninth year; in full 
 possession of all her faculties ; the mistress of her household 
 . — of their hearts and minds, as well as of their bodies. She 
 came of a long-lived family. Her brother, the senior partner 
 
A".t. 27-] Miss Evans. loi 
 
 of the firm, had lately died at the age of eighty-seven, and 
 her sister, with whom she had lived at Darley House since 
 their babyhood, had, though paralyzed during the greater 
 part of her life, only recently been removed at the age of 
 eighty-four. She herself lived to see her ninety-sixth year. 
 She seemed to rise superior to the course of Time. Her 
 small, erect figure would go hither and thither with the 
 precision and punctuality of a clock. Her bright and 
 sunny face, with its never-failing smile, was to be seen 
 wherever she was needed. And where was it that she 
 was not required ? She was the very life and centre of 
 the village and all its work. In any family difficulty, in any 
 dispute, in any case in which an arbiter was required, it was 
 to "Miss Ivvins " that the people always went. She had 
 spent her long life among them and for them, and she 
 thoroughly understood both them and their ways. But she 
 must be obeyed. Her large household of devoted domestics 
 — several of whom were almost as old as herself, and had re- 
 mained with her ever since, three-quarters of a century ago, 
 as an active, bright-eyed girl she had taken up the reins of 
 government — knew this. The villagers all knew this. Some- 
 times a new-comer, mistaking the gentle demeanour of the 
 little woman, and the kindly look of interest in her eye?, 
 would think to presume. But he seldom transgressed far. 
 He was soon made to feel that those mittened hands, with 
 their tender touch, concealed a grip of steel. In her younger 
 days it may have been that she used her power somewhat 
 unsparingly. It is not always easy for strong common sense 
 and a commanding mind to make allowance for the weak- 
 ness of others. But now, in her extreme age, softened, 
 chastened, beautiful in her brisk helpfulness, self-respecting 
 and respected, she presented a perfect picture of sweet and 
 honourable womanhood. 
 
 The income of her large fortune was spent in doing good. 
 No one will know until the Great Day of the Revelation of 
 all things how many homes were made happy by her, how 
 many were saved from ruin by her prompt interference, how 
 many were assisted to make a start in life. Truly there are 
 not a few who will rise and call her blessed. 
 
1 02 James Hannington. [A. D. 1875. 
 
 Miss Evans was quick to discern the merits of James 
 Hannington. He was always a welcome guest at Darley 
 House. He, on his part, was charmed with Miss Evans, 
 and enjoyed above all things to draw out her rich store of 
 Christian experience. 
 
 On one occasion, when we called together, we found 
 several elderly ladies, friends of Miss Evans, gathered round 
 the fire. Their conversation upon some point of spiritual 
 interest quite engrossed us, and we stayed a considerable 
 time. As we at length left the house, Hannington turned 
 to me with a quaint look, and said : 
 
 " Do you know, old fellow, I think that I must really 
 be a Christian .? " 
 
 " I hope so," I said. " But what makes you think so 
 just now especially .' " 
 
 " Well," he replied, with a smile, " what an unutter- 
 able bore I should have thought those people and their talk 
 on such a subject a short time ago. But, do you know? I 
 positively enjoyed it." 
 
 Hannington had his first experience of a genuine paro- 
 chial tea-party soon after his arrival. It is the custom at 
 Darley Abbey to issue a general invitation to the people on 
 the day of the Derby races to what is called " the Race 
 Tea." On this occasion over six hundred sat down. After 
 tea addresses were given, among which Hannington noted 
 with interest a description which the Rev. J. E. Linnell, 
 himself once a workman, gave to the working people of his 
 own eventful life. 
 
 On the twenty-ninth of September Hannington was 
 instituted as Curate of St. George's, but he resolved to gain 
 more experience of pastoral work before commencing his 
 labours there, so, leaving the chapel in charge of the 
 Eev. F. H. S. Pendleton, he returned to Darley in time to 
 take part in a Mission which was to be conducted by the 
 Rev. C. Melville Pym. 
 
 Into the work of this Mission he threw himself heartily. 
 He says : " I gave the opening address. Mr. Bemrose, the 
 publisher, followed. I was thin, but he was splendid." 
 Every day he gave some address — rough and ready, but 
 
jEt. 28.] Tlie Derby Station Breakfast. 103 
 
 forcible and to the point, — visited energetically from house 
 to house, and assisted at the after-meetings. On one 
 occasion he seized hold of a notorious drunkard, and would 
 not let him go until he had made a definite promise to come 
 to that evening's Service. That Mission produced a great 
 effect upon the people of Darley, and consolidated the Chris- 
 tians there into a united working body. Hannington was 
 soon himself to conduct many such in other parts of the 
 country. 
 
 He also saw and took part in the remarkable work which 
 is carried on by the railway men at the Derby Station. He 
 says : " I went to the Midland Railway breakfast-room, 
 where about a hundred men meet and listen to an address 
 from some specially-invited preacher every morning while 
 they consume their breakfasts. A short time ago the Bishop 
 of London spoke to them. This gathering originated in a 
 half-witted man who used to read his Bible at meal time, 
 and was badly treated, in consequence, by the other men. 
 He went apart into a corner by himself, and was presently 
 joined by another. They both of them got so persecuted 
 that somebody spoke to the officials, and they gave them a 
 small shed. This has now grown into the present meeting 
 of about a hundred strong. I came in and asked if I might 
 he a listener. The foreman said, ' We have been disap- 
 pointed in our man ; will you speak to us ? ' I had not 
 come prepared, but the Lord helped me ; and they imme- 
 diately begged me to come again." 
 
 During the short time that he spent at Darley, Han- 
 nington quite won the hearts of the people. His frank 
 and open manner took them by storm ; his eccentricities 
 only endeared him the more to them. As a mill-worker 
 was heard to say: "We all like Mr. Hannington, and 
 no mistake; he is so free like; he just comes into your 
 house, and sticks his hands down into the bottom of his 
 pockets, and talks to you like a man." 
 
 He was the life and soul of the family party at the 
 Vicarage. His queer sayings and his oddities are still remem- 
 bered by the members of that circle, especially by the Vicar, 
 who thoroughly entered into and enjoyed his humour. 
 
104 James Hajinington. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 " I know that I am sometimes a little difFerent from 
 other people," Hannington would say, penitently, yet with 
 a sly twinkle in his eye. 
 
 " A little difFerent!" the Vicar would reply, shaking with 
 laughter. " Why, I never saw anybody in all my life at 
 all like you." 
 
 Or, as putting on a quizzical air, standing astride upon 
 the hearthrug, he brought to light some imaginary discovery 
 which he had made with regard to some member of the 
 family, and then proceeded with infinite glee to work up 
 the most ridiculous superstructure upon this mock founda- 
 tion, the Vicar, who had been enjoying the whole thing with 
 suppressed delight struggling on every feature, would burst 
 forth from the depths of his arm-chair with a sounding peal, 
 and a " James, you are perfectly incorrigible ; you are not 
 content until you have probed out the tender part of every- 
 body, and then you just go on dig, dig, digging away relent- 
 lessly at that spot till you become unbearable. You ought 
 to be ashamed of yourself!" All this with the keenest 
 appreciation of his odd pupil. 
 
 Well, has not one of our greatest modern thinkers said ; 
 " Eccentricity has always abounded where strength of cha- 
 racter has abounded. That so few dare to be eccentric 
 marks the chief danger of the time 1 " 
 
 And if he did sometimes carry his humour to the verge 
 of irritation, or persist in working out his vein of vexatious- 
 ness to the annoyance of the over-sensitive, he was soon 
 forgiven. It was impossible to take offence, for the simple 
 reason that he never meant to offend. 
 
 And Hannington could be very gentle and courteous 
 when he chose to be so. With the aged, or the weak, or 
 with those in need of comfort, help, or consolation, he was 
 ever the gentlest, kindest, and m.ost considerate of friends. 
 In the presence of such he was another man. None who 
 ever sought his advice in trouble, or by whose bedside he 
 has sat in their sickness, will readily forget the tender help- 
 fulness of his quiet manner, and the true ring of sympathy 
 in his voice. 
 
CHAPTER IX. 
 
 ST. George's, hurstpierpoint. 
 
 (1875-) 
 
 " Sir, the life of a Parson, of a conscientious clergyman, is not 
 easy. I have always considered a clergyman as the father of a 
 larger family than he is able to maintain." Johnson. 
 
 " And evermore beside him on his way 
 The unseen Christ shall move ; 
 That he may lean upon His arm and say, 
 ' Dost Thou, dear Lord, approve ? ' " 
 
 Longfellow, 
 
 On the third of November, 1^75^ Hannington was again 
 in Oxford, to receive his R'l.A. degree. He found at St. 
 Mary Hall, alone of his former companions, the Rev. 
 David Johnston, Minister of the Church of Scotland in the 
 Orkneys, a Biblical Student, and holder of the Kenicott 
 Hebrew Scholarship, the tenure of which required him to 
 reside in Oxford during the Michaelmas Term of that year. 
 The following entry refers to this meeting : — 
 
 " Had a long and profitable converse with David John- 
 ston ; he told me that he never had had any hope of my 
 conversion, I seemed so utterly given over to the world." 
 
 Mr. Johnston was not the only one of his former 
 acquaintances who were unaware of the change which had 
 passed over his life, and the tenor of it. 
 
 On one occasion, shortly before the 'correspondence 
 which has been given in Chapter VII., one of Hanning- 
 ton's college friends was spending the month of September 
 at the country house of an old St. Mary Hall man. 
 "The great change" had but lately passed over him- 
 self He could not have hidden it if he would. A new 
 language and words to which his companion was unaccus- 
 tomed cropped up as the two trod the stubbles, or waded 
 
io6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 knee deep through the turnip-fields, carrying destruction 
 among the partridges. An indefinable aroma of a new life 
 permeated even their conversation over the pipes at night. 
 But when, finally, he confessed that he had heard the call of 
 Christ, and was resolved to follow Him, his companion lost 
 no time, but wrote off at once to Hannington for advice. 
 
 Said he ; "I don't know what has come over . He 
 
 is dreadfully changed in his views. You must come and 
 spend a few days with us when next he is here, and we will 
 soon settle him between us." Alas ! those three were 
 never to meet on earth. Had they done so within two 
 years of that letter, there would, indeed, have been two 
 against one, but the majority would not have been upon 
 the side espoused by Hannington's perplexed correspondent ! 
 Over Hannington, too, that Change had passed. 
 
 To many of his old friends it seemed like a miracle 
 when he boldly took his place among the fighting men in 
 the vanguard of Christ's Great Army. 
 
 On the seventh of November, Hannington preached 
 his introductory sermon in St. George's Chapel. We have 
 already described the village of Hurstpierpoint. In the 
 grounds of St. George's House, on the highest part of 
 them, stands the chapel, a well-shaped building, with high- 
 pitched roof; simple in construction, but withal appropriate 
 to its surroundings. Within, a nave seated for some three 
 hundred persons, comfortable and commodious — benches low 
 and open. Beyond, a simple chancel, from the arch of which 
 hangs a light brass chandelier. Throughout the building a 
 subdued light, falling through the stained glass of single, 
 pointed windows. Chancel door perhaps ajar, letting in a 
 ray of warm sunlight, and revealing glimpses of smooth 
 lawns and flowers, and spaces of sky and far-reaching view. 
 
 At the end of every pew hangs a bracket, which can be 
 raised at will to accommodate an additional sitter. And 
 these brackets were seldom out of use during Hannington's 
 incumbency of the chapel ! 
 
 Here he laboured during the next seven years ; almost 
 unknown to the world, but well known enough in the 
 neighbourhood of Hurst, and winning the affection of his 
 

^t. 28.] Bull's-eyes. 107 
 
 people in a manner in which it is given to ^^w clergymen 
 to do. 
 
 One of the most wholly unconventional souls that ever 
 breathed, some of his sayings and doings remind us irresis- 
 tibly of William Grimshaw, whose eccentricities were 
 known and beloved anywhere within a day's journey ot 
 Ha worth. 
 
 In his old, faded boating coat — his St. Mary Hall 
 " blazer " — he would walk briskly down the village street. 
 All the children knew well enough that the pockets of that 
 coat were filled with goodies. They looked out for him 
 with a shy expectancy. Ont day, as he walked with a 
 certain dignified ecclesiastic, this time attired in proper 
 clerical uniform, a little girl stole up timidly behind, and 
 pulled his coat tails. " Please^ sir," said she, blushing, 
 " haven't you got a bull's-eye for me ? " 
 
 He would gather the children about him and give them 
 some brief and fitting instruction with regard to their con- 
 duct towards their parents and each other. Thus, they 
 were not to "sneak," not to speak untruths, etc., etc. 
 When he next encountered them they were cross-examined : 
 " Now, then : what were the three things you were not to 
 do ; eh ? " When the answers v/ere correct, the rewarding 
 bull's-eye was never wanting. 
 
 There are few men who know how to combine perfect 
 freedom and familiarity of manner with a self-respect with 
 which the rudest boor will not venture to take a liberty. 
 Hannington had learned the secret of this combination in a 
 very wonderful manner. He could be hail-fellow-well-met 
 with rough men and lads with enviable impunity. The 
 workmen of Hurst knew him among themselves by the 
 pet name of " Jemmy." He was Hurstpierpoint's Jemmy; 
 their own Jemmy. But there was no one in the district to 
 whom the men raised their caps more willingly, or to whom 
 the boys looked up with more unquestioning admiration. 
 Chalmers is reported to have said to one who was main- 
 taining that the clergy should " stand upon their dignity ,^'^ 
 " Sir \ if we don't" mind, we may die of dignity." 
 Hannington was quite of that opinion. He sought all 
 
io8 James Hatinington. [A.D. :S75 
 
 souls, anyhow and anywhere. If he could not win them 
 in a dignified manner, he had no objection to appear as 
 undignified as the occasion seemed to demand. 
 
 "Oh, the value of one soul!" he somewhere writes; 
 and his whole life from this time bears witness to the sin- 
 cerity of his estimate. He would get hold of the boys and 
 attract them to himself by his kindly interest in their 
 pursuits — an interest by which they could not but be 
 flattered ; he would gradually wean them from evil com- 
 panions, by encouraging them to cultivate any taste which 
 he might detect in them. Boys who showed a liking 
 for curiosities or natural history were invited to his house, 
 and allowed to examine his own large and various collections, 
 and his cabinets of classified specimens. All this with a 
 good-natured raillery which was very effective in checking 
 any disposition to conceit on the part of his protegees. His 
 quizzical smile kept everybody at his own proper level. 
 No boy with a taste for the concertina, or for scribbling 
 designs upon his slate, or for rapid summing, was suffered to 
 delude himself into the idea that he was an embryo Mozart, 
 or Turner, or the future senior wrangler of the village. 
 One of his friends * reports the following characteristic 
 reply to a lad who " fancied himself" as a musician^ and to 
 whom he at once consented to allow the use of his own 
 harmonium. " But when shall I begin, sir ? " asked the 
 boy. " Oh, well/' said Hannington, looking at him with an 
 amused smile, " I shall be out on Thursday." 
 
 These lads and the young men loved him. He gathered 
 them together into a Bible Class and Temperance Associa- 
 tion. l~hey were called " Hannington's Saints," but they 
 were not much afflicted thereby. They were taught to 
 regard the disapproval of the scoffers, as the highest compli- 
 ment that could be conferred upon them. The following 
 extract from his diary will show how closely he was accus- 
 tomed to watch his lads, and, as he used to term it, to 
 "father" them: 
 
 " Went to the Review with several of my Bible Class. 
 
 * Mr. W. Boxall. 
 
^t. 28.] Influence Over Men. log 
 
 I had also with me S. S., whom I am trying to get hold of. 
 We passed on the road a vanfal of the wild lads of the 
 parish. It was extraordinary to watch S. S., how wistfully 
 he !coked at them^ and evidently longed to be with them. 
 He watched them until they disappeared from view. Oh ! 
 what a fight the devil is going to make for that young man ! 
 Get to Thyself the victory, O Lord ! Amen and amen." 
 
 There is little room for wonder that Hannina:ton was 
 both respected and beloved when, as we question his people, 
 there come out, one by one, the sacrifices which he made for 
 them and for the Great Cause which he had at heart. Take 
 the following example : 
 
 He was very fond of riding. There was no pleasure to 
 which he looked forward with more keen delight than to a 
 long gallop over the downs, or a scamper with his sister-in- 
 law through the country lanes. They two would sometimes 
 start from the field beyond the gardens of St. George's, and 
 ride straight across country, clearing everything in their way, 
 in a neck-and-neck race. 
 
 But one day Hannington announced that he had sold his 
 horse. He would ride no more. He had need of the 
 money for other things which were not hard to guess. For 
 the future he would go about the parish on foot. As for the 
 stable and coach-house, he meant to knock them into one. 
 They would, if properly fitted up, form an excellent mission 
 room, and just such an one as he had for a long while wanted 
 for his meetings. No sooner said than done. Just behind 
 his house stands the transformed stable to-day. Papered, 
 carpeted, hung with paraffin lamps, provided with forms and 
 harmonium — a model mission hall ; and a model also of 
 what may be done by a man whose heart is wholly given to 
 serve the Lord. These and many similar acts were done so 
 quietly and so wholly without ostentation of any kind, that 
 many of his most intimate friends never suspected that he 
 was making any special sacrifices. Of all this from himself 
 they never heard a syllable. 
 
 He never posed as a large-hearted man, given to liberality. 
 Indeed, I do not think that he knew that he was liberal. 
 
110 James Hannington. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 His liberality was not a vestment put on ; it was himself; it 
 ran in his blood. To have behaved like a churl would have 
 been to him the most painful thing in the world, if not a 
 sheer impossibility. 
 
 I find traces of ^50 given to a needy brother "missioner" 
 upon one occasion, and another sum of ^40 to a certain 
 
 , " to see him through his trouble." How many 
 
 other such sums were expended in a similar manner it is 
 impossible to guess. But, as George Dawson says with 
 regard to an act of magnanimity on the part of old Andrew 
 Marvell, " a man cannot do one thing like that without 
 doing many things like that," and the blessed habit of giving, 
 like all other habits, grows with the use of it. 
 
 He was a preacher, too, who could not fail to secure an 
 attentive audience. While he was not naturally a ready 
 speaker, he had, from the commencement of his extempore 
 preaching, that eloquence which is bred of intense conviction. 
 His style might be formed upon no known standard, but it 
 was, at least, effective. It was never conventional. He never 
 dealt in platitudes. He spoke as one who had something to 
 say ; and from the first he caught the ear and held the atten- 
 tion of the most sleepy country congregations. Of only too 
 many well-meaning and learned preachers might the rustic 
 hearer complain with, alas, too much of saddest truth, 
 
 " I 'eerd 'um a bummin' avvaay loike a buzzard clock oner my 'ead, 
 An' I niver knaw'd what a mean'd."* 
 
 Hannington, at least, took care that the people should know 
 what he meant. In these, the early days of his preaching, 
 he gave no thought to anything but his matter. He would 
 let himself be carried impetuously along upon a stormy tide 
 of speech, the broken waves of which disdained to be con- 
 fined within the bounds of legitimately constructed sentences • 
 and often used he laughingly to take his present biographer 
 to task for "criticizing his grammar," when such criticism 
 was very far from his thoughts. 
 
 As might have been expected, these things soon righted 
 themselves. He rapidly acquired command of language that 
 
 *■ The Northern Fanner. 
 
JF.t.2S.] . An Effective Preacher. m 
 
 expressed his thoughts in concise and pithy sentences ; and 
 many have without reserve endorsed vv^ords which 1 ventured 
 on a previous occasion to write concerning him : "■ Latterly his 
 preaching was not only cultivated and powerful, but, from 
 the originality of his thought, and his close acquaintance 
 with the minutiae of Scripture, most deeply interesting and 
 instructive."* Whatever faults may have been laid to the 
 charge of his early preaching, neither dulness nor vagueness 
 could be numbered among them. 
 
 "Are you going to hear Jemmy preach this evening?" 
 one neighbour would say to another. Or, next day, " He 
 gave it us regular hot last night, didn't he .? " 
 
 When he preached against any particular vice, no one 
 could entertain the least doubt as to what vice he intended 
 to condemn. Unlike the Irish clergy whom Miss Ellice 
 Hopkins so amusingly describes as racking their brains during 
 the potato famine to find some euphonious synonym for the 
 vulgar word " potato," Hannington was never afraid to call 
 anything by its proper name. So far he was a very Latimer. 
 In Devonshire, the " spade " of immorality was called and 
 denounced by the name which belongs to that particular 
 kind of " spade." In Hurstpierpoint, the " spade " of 
 drunkenness was described, not in decent generalities, but in 
 most pungent particularities. " The old fuddlers," as he 
 used to dub the alehouse theologians and pothouse politicians, 
 could not find the least loophole of escape from the under- 
 standing of what it ivas which their pastor stood up to 
 condemn. 
 
 The following is very characteristic : " One Sunday he 
 gave out the announcement : ' I intend to preach a temper- 
 ance sermon next Sunday evening ; I am aware that the 
 subject is unpopular, but you know my own views upon it. 
 I shall, no doubt, speak pretty plain, so if any of you do not 
 care to hear me you had better stop away.' Of course, the 
 church was crowded." 
 
 Here is an instance of his adaptability : — 
 
 " I had a curious experience at the workhouse. I gave 
 " C. M. Intelligencer, April, i8S6. 
 
112 Javtes Hamiington. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 out a text, and began in rather a sermonizing way. The 
 coucrhing was so tremendous that. I could scarcely hear 
 myself speak. I never heard such a selection of varied 
 coughs in my life. Well, thought I, this will never do, 
 so I altered my tone, and said, ' I will tell you a tale. The 
 coughs all stopped together— dead silence— and so I went 
 on. As soon as one tale was finished I began another, and 
 so kept their attention to the end without difficulty." 
 
 It is told of Sydney Smith, that, when preaching in 
 Edinburgh, in the first quarter of this century, seeing how 
 almost exclusively the congregations were composed of 
 ladies, he gave out as his text, " Oh, that men would there- 
 fore praise the Lord ! " — laying distinct emphasis on the 
 word " men." That was in questionable taste, but it 
 marked a fact. Bishop Ryle, writing in '53, laments the 
 absence of men from the churches, and there are still 
 parishes in which that complaint might be made. It was not 
 so in the Chapel of St. George during James Hannington's 
 incumbency. 
 
 But to the problem, " Where are the men ? " it may be 
 that an easier solution is at hand than that which presents 
 itself to some perplexed pastors when they painfully discuss 
 the question at their periodic clerical meeting. To the 
 reproaches and exhortations of Pulpit, it may be that Pew 
 has something valid to reply. He might say : If it be true 
 that " a modern sermon is too often a dull, tame, pointless 
 religious essay, full of measured, round sentences, Johnsonian 
 English, bold platitudes, timid statements, and elaborately- 
 concocted milk and water"* — change all that ; preach to us 
 something the very opposite of that veracious description, 
 and you will no longer have to ask, "Where are the men ? " 
 Englishmen have not lost their love of a good sermon. 
 They are not harder to please to-day than were the audiences 
 of Latimer, Wesley, Whitefield, or Chalmers. They do 
 not even ask for a fine sermon ; only preach to them in 
 earnest, and preach to tlie pointy and they will not fail to 
 
 Bishop Ryle. 
 
JEt2g.] His Readiness of Resource. 113 
 
 give you a hearing. In some such terms might Pew lift up 
 his voice in reply to the waiUng of deserted Pulpit. 
 
 The secret of Hannington's success will probably be 
 found to have been, that what truths were made plain tc 
 his own heart, these he sought the power of the Spirit of 
 God to enable him to make plain to the congregation. And 
 he had no lack of hearers. Men and women, young and 
 old, they filled his little chapel to its utmost holding capacity. 
 
 The experience, moreover, of his own former life was 
 very useful to him here. He had proved for and in himself 
 that it is possible to believe in God, think seriously, and pray 
 earnestly, without having any definite part or lot in Chrisf's 
 matter. He, therefore, never fell into the mistake of address- 
 ing his hearers as though they were Christians indeed until 
 they had been actually converted to God. He sought for 
 broken hearts, contrite spirits, and souls willing to be saved 
 through-faith in the Redeemer ; nor did he seek in vain ; in 
 results such as these his ministry was fruitful from the first. 
 
 But, while Hannington was a diligent preacher^ minis- 
 trant, and visitor, he did not forget that his flock possessed 
 bodies as well as souls. He took an active practical leader- 
 ship in every local effort to improve the well-being of the 
 people. I find a note about a certain Industrial Exhibition* 
 which was planned and organized almost w holly by his own 
 exertions, though, as usual, he succeeded in enlisting the 
 co-operation of almost everybody, and arousing their enthu- 
 siasm in the success of the undertaking. The idea of this 
 exhibition was, that everybody in the village should show 
 their various manufactures, paintings, joiners' v/ork, carving, 
 and any curious or fancy articles they might possess. The 
 
 * Mr. Mitten writes with regard to this exhibition. "Here 
 at Hurstpierpoint our friend did a good deal, and it is a place 
 where it is very difficult for anybody to do anything without 
 raising obstruction in some quarter or other. He threw himself 
 fully into the idea of th% exhibition, and so cautiously approached 
 the Rector and Resident Curate, that they too entered into the 
 project heartily, as if it were their own idea ; indeed, his manage- 
 ment of this difficult feat filled me with admiration for his skill in 
 making people do just as he wished, by rendering it impossible 
 that they could do any other thing to their own satislaction.' 
 
 8 
 
114 James Hanninglon. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 people took up the plan warmly, and the exhibition, which 
 was the first of the kind ever held in the neighbourhood, 
 proved a great success. It was repeated in following years, 
 and no doubt was useful to many as a guide to the discovery 
 of their own individual talent, and an encouragement to 
 occupy their hands in some profitable pursuit. 
 
 Nor did his interest in medical work slacken. Here 
 are some specimen entries from his diary : 
 
 " Helped Dr. Smith to cut ofF a man's finger— gangrene. 
 
 " Assisted Drs. S. and H. to cut ofF Bristowe's arm, as 
 mortification had gone further. Afterwards, performed 
 duties of hospital nurse; carried off the arm and buried it. 
 
 "Dr. Pearce summoned me to come and help at a post- 
 mortem. Found two large stones in each kidney. Very 
 bad subject. Dr. P. cut himself, and I had to sew him up 
 again." 
 
 The following is a good example of fearless shepherding: 
 
 " A most virulent case of small-pox in an outlying part 
 of the parish; a boy taken with it. I called, and found the 
 people forsaken by their neighbours. No milk, and the 
 boy's life depending upon it. I fetched some milk, and 
 then, at the request of the mother, saw the boy and prayed 
 with him. The next day it was all over the parish that I had 
 visited the small-pox case. The people were in a dreadful state 
 of mind. The relieving officer called, and in an authoritative 
 way ordered me not to go near the place. I replied that if 
 the law were on the side of the sanitary officials, it was 
 open to them to use it, but where duty called I should o-o ; 
 and as he went out of one door, I went out at the other 
 and called at the infected house. The doctor gave no hope. 
 Every preparation had been made to bury the poor lad the 
 same night. The following day the health officer wrote, 
 urging me to take every precaution, but not forbiddino- me 
 to go, as the law is on my side. Letter from X y" Z 
 askmg me not even to speak to her husband in his"carria<J-e 
 
 out of doors for three weeks I I After all the 
 
 boy recovered." ' 
 
 Whenever the people were in any danger, distress or 
 
^t. 32.] Watchfid Shepherding. 115 
 
 difficulty, they knew to whom they might apply for help 
 without fear of refusal. At one time we hear of him assist- 
 ing to remove a dangerous lunatic to the County Asylum. 
 At another time he is wading through deep snowdrifts to take 
 medicine to a sick person. Again he is seen, with his coat 
 off and his sleeves rolled up, washing up the breakfast things 
 for a neighbour suddenly taken ill ! Here is an instance 
 which may gi\e one an idea of the manner in which he 
 would follow up to its conclusion any case which he had 
 undertaken. 
 
 In October of 1879 Hannington received a telegram 
 
 from a certain Mrs. , asking him to come at once to 
 
 her assistance, as her husband had run away with another 
 woman and left her wholly destitute. He lost no time in 
 bestirring himself in the matter, and the man was soon 
 arrested and in custody. Hannington then called upon the 
 prisoner, but found him entirely hardened, and refusing to 
 be reconciled to his wife. He prayed with him, pleaded 
 with him, and spent much time in representing his duty to 
 him from every point of view, but all to no purpose. The 
 next day he was up early, and sought the man's cell before 
 breakfast, in hope that the night's meditation might have 
 resulted in a better frame of mind. The husband was still 
 sullen, and obstinately refused to see him. Nothing 
 daunted, Hannington appeared in the man's behalf in the 
 court, and said all that was possible in his favour with re- 
 gard to his past history. He was, however, condemned and 
 sentenced to three months' imprisonment with hard labour. 
 Up to this time he had, with strange perversity, persuaded 
 himself that his wife and all the rest of the world were 
 in the wrong, and that he was the persecuted and injured 
 victim of their malice. His sentence, therefore, came upon 
 him as an additional and unwarrantable piece of injustice. 
 He was furious. More impracticable than ever. Hanning- 
 ton lost no time in seeking another interview with him, but 
 met with nothing but reproaches and bitter accusations 
 against all concerned in his incarceration. He was not 
 discouraged, but, as usual, made the man's case the subject 
 of special pleading in his private prayers. 
 
Ii6 James Hannington. [ A. D, 1875-79. 
 
 He did not lose sight of him, but kept himself acquainted 
 with the prisoner's movements in the gaol where he was 
 confined, and when the day of release arrived, went up 
 himself to meet him and tender his assistance. After an 
 interview which lasted three hours, he left him deeply 
 penitent. Not long afterwards occurs this entry in the 
 diary : 
 
 'Went up to town ; took an affectionate leave of 
 
 . He sails for , is still very depressed, but I 
 
 have every hope that real blessing has come out of it." 
 
 Nor did he go without substantial help from his 
 friend ; which help he used to good purpose in the 
 land of his regenerated life, and in due time "returned every 
 penny of it." 
 
 Disinterested acts of kindness like the above could not 
 fail to win for him something more than the mere liking of 
 the people among whom he laboured. No doubt they were 
 as prone as others to take the attentions of their pastor, 
 and any sacrifice on his part in their behalf, as a matter of 
 course ; but they could not help seeing that he was no 
 " hireling shepherd." From his lips the words, " I seek 
 not your's, but you," came as no vain protestation, but as a 
 statement of undeniable fact. Whether they would or no, 
 they could not withhold their hearts from him. If they 
 did not agree with his teaching, or follow his precepts, at 
 least they all loved him. 
 
 And he, too, was attached both to the people and to his 
 work among them in no ordinary way. More than once he 
 was offered livings with larger and better known spheres of 
 labour. But though he derived no emolument from St. 
 George's, which had been left to him by his father without 
 a stipend attached to it, and, as time went by, his private 
 income, which had been amply sufficient for a bachelor, 
 proved to be no luxurious provision for a family, he always 
 refused preferment. His constant reply to those who 
 would have him seek promotion was, " I dwell amono- mine 
 own people." 
 
 It may be a fitting conclusion to this chapter to sav a 
 
/Et. 29-33-] ^^^ Church Viezvs. 117 
 
 few words with regard to Hannington's Church views. 
 Some of the readers of this book will, no doubt, remain 
 unsatisfied until they have been told to what party in the 
 Church he belonged. But if they hope to find in him a 
 partisan of their own special school of thought, I fear 
 that they will lay down these pages with disappointment. 
 Whatever party may lay claim to him, I cannot, after an 
 impartial survey of his whole life, discover that he attached 
 himself exchisively to any section of the Church. What I 
 mean by that is that he was not a party man. He never 
 seemed to me to take the slightest interest in Church-partv- 
 politics. He undoubtedly found most that was congenial to 
 him in the society of men who are generally supposed to 
 belong to a certain school, but he did not weigh the merits 
 of others in the balances of that school ; whenever and 
 wherever he thought that he recognized a spiritually- 
 minded man, he quickly and joyfully accepted him, whether 
 he found him in priest's cloak and biretta, or the broad-cloth 
 of some country local preacher. He was quite willing to 
 ■occupy the pulpit of any man — whether in the Church of 
 England or out of it — who would allow him to preach a 
 Gospel sermon, even though the views usually advocated 
 from that pulpit differed in many points from his own. He 
 •was very impatient of all conventional rules which threatened 
 to hamper his full liberty of Christian action, and was, in the 
 same way, an enemy of any formalism in worship which 
 might tend to cramp his spiritual freedom. Toward the 
 close of his ministry, and especially when he himself had 
 become an administrator in the affairs of the Church, his 
 views underwent some modification, and he learnt to esti- 
 mate Church order at its full value ; but at this time the 
 one thing which he craved above all others was freedom — 
 freedom to serve Christ as the Spirit might direct him. As we 
 have seen, his feelings had undergone a considerable change 
 ■since the time when he was first brought into contact with 
 the Church. Then he was strongly drawn toward High- 
 Churchism. In his boyhood, he had even once bsen 
 powerfully attracted by the Roman system. The discipline, 
 apparent union, and the zeal of the English Romanists 
 
ii8 Javies Hannington. [AD. 1S75 79- 
 
 commended them greatly to him. His mind, however, was 
 too robust and independent to accept Roman dogma ; ano> 
 still in search of something wherewith to satisfy the desire 
 of his soul, he thought that he had found what he wanted in 
 the " Anglican " Church system. He had not, at that time, 
 grasped the truth that the only way to peace with God is 
 through vital and personal union with the Lord Jesus Christ, 
 much less had he found that peace ; but he was thoroughly 
 in earnest, and he required earnestness in any religious 
 society of men as an essential condition to joining himself 
 to them. The self-denial which was entailed upon him in 
 keeping the Fasts and Holy Days of the Church seemed to 
 satisfy for a while his spiritual craving. 
 
 This was the attitude of his mind when he went to 
 Oxford, and I am inclined to think that had he been 
 brought under the personal influence of some leading High- 
 Churchman, some man of commanding moral force, who 
 could have at once claimed him by his personality, and 
 fascinated him by the spectacle of a practical, manly life, 
 coupled with such an inner religious life as would have 
 appealed to his imagination — he might have been readily 
 seized, and, at least for a time, held. 
 
 This, however, did not happen. While his mind was 
 still in the balance, and while, moreover, his religious sense 
 was almost drowned in the excitement of his new college 
 life and popularity, so that he was not inclined to think so 
 seriously as before, and was little disposed to delve beneath 
 the surface of things, and patiently dig out truth for himself, 
 he was brought into contact with a set among the under- 
 graduates which professed to be the exponent of the latest 
 and most correct Church ritual. The young men who 
 composed this set paid great attention to correctness of 
 posture in chapel, and to niceties of observance in public 
 and private worship. They were fond of dressino- them- 
 selves, in the privacy of their own rooms, in abbreviated 
 lace-trimmed surplices, and getting themselves photographed 
 with crozier and censer. In the bedroom of one such we 
 accidentally discovered an altar composed of his trunk 
 draped with a suitable antimacassar, upon which stood a 
 
ALL 29-33.] ^^ Universal Christian. i 19 
 
 row of tiny candlesticks and a vase or so of flowers, while 
 above, upon the wall, hung a plaster crucifix ! 
 
 Those who knew Hannington will understand what 
 must have been the effect produced upon him. His mind, 
 apparently, underwent a swift revulsion. All this jarred 
 upon him and disgusted him. It offered him endless food for 
 railery, and excited his immeasurable contempt. He loved 
 to lampoon the performers and ridicule their " functions." 
 It was not, of course, fair that a system should be judged 
 by the youthful extravagance of its junior disciples, but 
 Hannington was at that time very impressionable, and there 
 can be little doubt that to what he then saw, during his 
 residence at Oxford, may be attributed the origin of that 
 dislike for all unnecessary ritual which he displayed at the 
 commencement of his ministerial life. 
 
 Afterwards, his lot fell among Evangelicals. They did 
 not obtain any decided influence over him while at Oxford, 
 but it was among them that he first, after his conversion, 
 felt the power of spiritual life. At this time, if he had been 
 pressed to define himself, he would, no doubt, have termed 
 himself an Evangelical, but while he undoubtedly' found 
 himself most in unison with liberal and large-hearted 
 members of that school, he already disliked party names 
 and the spirit of faction, and utterly declined to be bound 
 by the "red tape" of any party whatsoever. He had the 
 widest sympathy with all Christians. He loved and re- 
 spected all those who love the Lord Jesus in sincerity. 
 Toward the close of his ministry especially his feelings 
 toward all Christian workers became enlarged and his 
 antipathies softened. Every against seemed to have been 
 swallowed up by one all-comprehensive for — for Christ. 
 At the same time this large-hearted charity did not pre- 
 vent him from being a true son of the Church. His love 
 for his own Church evidently deepened with each year that 
 he served in her ranks ; he had no doubt in his own mind 
 as to her superiority, both in order and forms, over those 
 bodies which dissented from her. A Universal Christian 
 first, and a " Churchman " after, he did not for a moment 
 forget that he was the latter. 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 HOME MISSION WORK AND PERSONAL DIARY. 
 
 (1875—79.) 
 
 " The Country Parson desires to be All to his Parish.'' 
 
 George Herbert. 
 
 In the previous cliapter I have attempted to describe 
 Hannington as he appeared in his parish, and to ascertain how 
 it was that he came to be loved, and to be a moral force 
 there. We may now, perhaps, with advantage continue to 
 follow the details of his life in their chronological order. 
 
 It is deeply interesting to note how entirely his heart was 
 thrown into the business of " fishing for men." His diary 
 at this period is full of jottings which refer to the spiritual 
 awakening of such a one, or his conversations with another 
 concerning the welfare of his soul. The subject is never 
 absent from his thoughts. Such entries as the following stud 
 thickly page after page : 
 
 " Spoke to H. H., and was made useful to him. He was 
 certainly converted to God." 
 
 " came to see me about her soul. A case need- 
 ing much patience. Visited in the agonies of death. 
 
 I have hopes of him." 
 
 "My servant, John,* was, I trust, turned to the Lord ; 
 I have prayed for him a long while." 
 
 About this time he was able to be of assistance to his 
 youngest brother, Joseph. Mr. Joseph Hannington writes : 
 
 "Some little time before I knew \\hat it was to have full 
 
 * Mr. Mitten writes :— " It was a way also of our friend to take a 
 lad for his servant and transform him, then pass him on to some- 
 thing better. In this way he had a good many, who ha\-e, so far as 
 I know, all turned out well. He had a great influence with young 
 men, and collected many to come and read with him." 
 
^t. 29.] His Sympathy with the Anxious. 121 
 
 assurance of faith, I came down one Sunday from Brighton to 
 hear my brother James preach. I was in much doubt and dis- 
 tress of mind. One remark in my brother's sermon made a 
 deep impression upon me, and threw hght into my soul. It 
 was as follows : ' The fact of our salvation does not depend 
 upon our oivn feelings. As for myself, there are times 
 zvheii, if I consulted nty feelings, I should say that I aui 
 not saved. I shmdd be plunged again into tlie deptJis of 
 misery. Feelings are treacherous things, not to be trusted. 
 They are the least reliable of things to rest upon. After 
 some sermon ivhich has met our ozun case ivc may have 
 experienced a time of peace ; or our circumstances may have 
 induced a happy frame of mind, we are then qicite assured 
 of God's love. Depression of spirits follows, and we quickly 
 lose our hope. But as surely as we rest -upon these frauds, 
 our feelings, the Lord ivill see fit to withdraw them in order 
 that we may learn to rest upon Him. I find that as soon 
 as I go back and take my stand upon His bare Word, I 
 recover my joy and peace. Therefore, let me urge upon you 
 the necessity of staying your faitli 7ipon Christ : not upon 
 your most liallowed feelings, but 7ipon Christ Himself and 
 His written promises. Wlienever you are in doubt, per- 
 plexed, and unhappy , go at once to the Lord ; fix your mind 
 zipon some precious passage from Ins unfailing Word, and 
 God's Truth zvill disperse any mists of darkness which 
 Satan's lies may have brought upon your soul.' 
 
 " From these words I received much help, as I had for a 
 long time fancied that when I felt happy after prayer, or 
 reading my Bible, or hearing some sermon, I was all right, 
 but in a very little while all these happy feelings fled away 
 and left me more wretched than ever. A short time after 
 this my attention was directed by the Hon. T. Pelham to 
 St. John iii. 36, " He that believeth hath everlasting 
 life ; •" and the Holy Ghost opened my eyes in a moment, 
 and I saw the truth of my dear brother's words, and have 
 been enabled to rest from that day to this upon the Word 
 as a rock that cannot be shaken." 
 
 Mr. Joseph Hannington goes on to say that, being over- 
 joyed at his discovery, he tried to impart his happiness to all 
 
7 22 James Hannington. [A.D. 1875. 
 
 whom he met. He did not receive, however, universal 
 encouragement. One old Christian bid him take heed and 
 Jiot be too joyful, as he would soon probably lose the 
 fervour of these first impressions. Thus he was damped. 
 He says : 
 
 " I next wrote to my brother James ; and oh, how 
 differently he met my case ! A letter soon came expressing 
 his great delight, and telling me that he would not cease to 
 pray for me. He was never at any time very fond of writ- 
 ing letters, but he then wrote quite lengthily for him, and 
 tried to build me up and encourage me to follow the Lord 
 and to learn to know Him better. He used a good deal of 
 persuasion, and took a great deal of trouble to induce me to 
 enter the ministry of the Church of England, but this did 
 not happen, as I could not see my way clearly in that 
 matter. He, however, set me to work at once in connec- 
 tion with his meetings ; my part was to waylay souls and 
 catch them by guile in order that they might be induced 
 to remain to be dealt with personally, or to seek an inter- 
 view with him in his own study. Thus a goodly number 
 were brought to the Lord. He was particularly apt in 
 dealing with souls, and was much used in removing their 
 difficulties and pointing them to a simple acceptance of the 
 Saviour. He would frequently say, ' Now, don't push 
 them forward too quickly, or they won't stand and certify 
 that the work is real.' But, as a rule, the converts stood 
 firmly, and many of them are now experienced Christians 
 and workers in the Lord's vineyard. 
 
 " In bygone days our eldest brother, a friend, and my- 
 self used to meet nearly every day to dine together at half- 
 past one. We were almost sure to get upon the subject of 
 religion. It was Jim's delight to come round the corner 
 quietly and surprise us all, at the same time remarking, 
 ' Here you are again, upon the same old subject ! ' And 
 right heartily would he come and join in. He delighted to 
 enter into any conversation that was connected with the 
 salvation of souls and the love of Jesus Christ, his 
 Saviour." 
 
^t. 29.] Temperance at Hurst. 123 
 
 Hannington had a great deal of the boy in him still. 
 He came to Sandgate at the end of 1875 to act as "best 
 man " at my own marriage, and his spirits were exuberantly 
 overflowing. When first he had been informed of my 
 engagement, he had been full of the idea that the safest 
 course for a servant of God was celibacy, and he had 
 written to me, not without austerity, entreating me to 
 beware, lest I should allow an earthly affection to usurp the 
 highest Love. Now, however, he was disposed to regard 
 this my matrimonial alliance \Vith greater leniency — a 
 leniency to which the following entry in his diary, made 
 about a fortnight previously, may afford some clue : 
 " Called for the first time upon Mrs. Hankin-Turvin at 
 Leacrofts ; she and her daughter come to my church, and 
 are earnest Christian people." It is possible, then, that 
 this first interview with Miss Hankin-Turvin had some- 
 what modified the severity of his views. Or perhaps he 
 had satisfied himself that my intended wife was not — to 
 use his own expression — " a daughter of Belial." 
 
 At all events, he threw himself into the preparations for 
 this wedding with an impetuous zeal that was delightful to 
 behold, even if it were at times somewhat embarrassing. 
 He insisted upon helping me to pack my boxes, though — 
 amid laughter, teasing, and constant fresh discoveries of how 
 the various articles might be better arranged, or rammed 
 down so as to occupy less space — the packing made but 
 slow progress. When, at last, my dear wife and I were 
 seated in our reserved carriage, booked for London, and, 
 thinking that we had seeji the last of the wedding party, 
 were trying to look as though we were not newly married, 
 a face beaming with excitement suddenly appeared at the 
 window, and our irrepressible " best man " bestowed his 
 parting blessing upon us, covering us with shame and con- 
 fusion before the grinning porters, with a well-directed 
 handful of rice. 
 
 At the end of 1875 Hannington accepted the Secretary- 
 ship of the Hurstpierpoint Temperance Association. Into 
 this new work he threw himself with characteristic energy. 
 He writes : " I am about the only teetotaler in Hurst ; " 
 
i24 James Hannington. [A.D. 1876. 
 
 bat, nothing daunted by the fact that total abstinence was 
 evidently very unpopular, he determined that he vv-ould 
 v.'age war to the knife against drink. Mr. Boxall tells 
 how, during the first year, only four pledges were taken, 
 and how, as Hannington persevered, in spite of the most 
 determined opposition, the number of abstainers gradually 
 increased. 
 
 He says ; " At that time there was a great deal of drunken- 
 ness in the village ; no less than seven public-houses were 
 turning out their weekly average of ' finished articles.' One 
 of the first acts of the Bishop we can remember was on one 
 Christmas evening, when, in walking up the street, we saw 
 one of those notorious characters floundering helplessly in 
 the miry road. Together with the Bishop, we were able to 
 drag the poor fellow along to his home, but in a most 
 pitiable condition, being almost encased in mud. Being 
 brought much in contact with drink by visiting among the 
 working classes, his ardent nature was roused into earnest- 
 ness and zeal, and, in Bible class and pulpit, he vigorously 
 advocated total abstinence. He never went about without 
 a pledge-book. There was no popular sympathy, and those 
 who signed were only met by the derisive cry, ' Hes joined 
 the saints.' This merely roused him to greater exertion, 
 more meetings were held, teas were given in the mission- 
 room, every inducement was held out. The coldness and 
 indifi-'erence of the people on this subject distressed him 
 greatly. He frankly told his congregation that this was the 
 hardest work he had ever taken in hand." * 
 
 The publicans could not have adopted a worse course 
 than that of stirring up opposition to his crusade. They 
 did not know their man if they thought that they could 
 either put him down or tire him out. He rose to meet a 
 difficulty with the keen joy of a strong swimmer who 
 delights to bathe in the breakers and shakes aside their force 
 with a rich enjoyment of the contest. He went about 
 everywhere among the mockers, and the more serious 
 opponents of his views alike, with that good-natured per- 
 
 * Art. in Church of England Te7nperance Chronicle, ApriL 
 24th, 1886. 
 
/Et. 29.] Priest's Orders. 125 
 
 sistence of his which so often proved irresistible. " No 
 man could call another a ' fuddler'' as he could. With the 
 utmost good-humour he would say, ' Ah ! you're another old 
 fuddler ; won't you come and write in my little book ? ' 
 He had a well-known sign which he used to make ; hold- 
 ing up his left hand he would write with his fingers upon 
 it. Everyone knew that it meant, ' Come and sicn the 
 pledge.'"* 
 
 We may insert here a later entry : 
 
 " Preached for the temperance cause in the Church of 
 the Annunciation, a ritualistic church in Brighton. A 
 crucifix hanging over my head. There was an extra- 
 ordinary gathering. People of all denominations had flocked 
 to see what I should do, and whether I should be true to 
 my colours. Wherever I looked I saw somebody whom I 
 knew. I preached from i Tim. v. 23, and as I gave out the 
 text, ' Take a little wine,' I thought I saw some of them 
 look terrified ; but I went on to show that my brother 
 had a stronger claim upon me than my stomach ! " 
 
 At last the time appointed by the Bishop of Exeter 
 drew to a close, and in June, 1876, Hannington went to 
 Chichester to pass his final examination for Priest's Orders. 
 He writes : 
 
 " There is a marked difference in tone between the 
 Chichester and Exeter examinations. Here the tone is 
 much more spiritual. 
 
 '■'■June ith. — Two of our number disappeared this 
 
 morning. One, , with whom I was at school, and 
 
 with whom I fought and thrashed ! 
 
 " ()th. — Examination finished. I have been highly com- 
 plimented by all the examiners, five in number, and told that 
 I have come out at the top of the list. Thank God ! It is 
 a lift after my hard experience at Exeter, for which I can 
 never consider that I was to blame. 
 
 " \OtJi. — (Shall I quote it? Yes ; for that which ren- 
 
 * Art. in Church of England Temperance Chronkle, April 
 24th, 1886, 
 
126 James Haiiinngton. [A.D. 1876. 
 
 dered him so incomprehensible to certain matter-of-fact and 
 unsympathetic minds, who had no understanding of the 
 unconventional, is just that quality which so specially 
 endears his memory to his frienas — I mean that light- 
 hearted boyishness which he retained side by side with his 
 purposeful manhood — and this extract affords a kind of key 
 to his character. Here it is) : " Saturday^ the lOth. — A day 
 of rest. I nested in the Bishop's garden, and. round the 
 belfry tower for swift's eggs." I confess that I do not envy 
 the man who can read this extract with contemptuous 
 disapproval, or who can suppose that the writer of it 
 meditated less, or spent a less profitable day after his 
 Ordination examination, than if he had confined himself 
 to a respectable promenade within the limits of the gravel 
 paths. 
 
 '■'■ SiDidcTj', the nth. — Procession from Palace to 
 Cathedral. Dean preached an excellent sermon, and the 
 whole service, though exhaustingly long, was impressively 
 performed. Afternoon, Burgon preached again ; I had tea 
 and supper at the Deanery, and went for a long walk with 
 the Dean, who is more eccentric than ever. 
 
 " Sept. I'^th. — Opened a meeting in my coachhouse'" 
 (this was the transformed stable and coachhouse, henceforth 
 to be a mission-room), " and invited the first time only those 
 to whom I believe the Word has been blessed." (Here 
 follows a list of names.) " My brother Joseph spoke. 
 
 " Oct. 4th. — Started a Mother's Meeting, the first ever 
 held in Hurst. 
 
 " bth. — Commenced a Women's Bible Class. May the 
 Lord bless these efforts ! 
 
 " nth. — About sixty present at the Men's Bible Class. 
 I am taking St. John's Gospel regularly through. 
 
 " li^th. — Started a Saturday Night Prayer Meeting for 
 men, and prayed earnestly that it might continue. 
 
 '■^ Nov. i6ih. — Went into Brighton to Bowker's and 
 Hopkins' meeting. Perhaps I heard selfishly, but I did not 
 get what I expected." 
 
 The following letter may here be quoted with the re- 
 
^t. 29-] "Holiness Conventions'' 127 
 
 minder that it was written in a chatty way to his wife, and 
 that the language used is, as one might suppose, wholly 
 unguarded. 
 
 " I have had a letter from Jos, the result of a conversation 
 with Beatrice about ' Convention ' views. I am evidently 
 regarded as very grovelling and in the mire, but I fail to see 
 that there is any practical difference between us as to the 
 results of faith. With regard to the possession of perfect 
 peace by a believer, we are quite agreed. So also with 
 regard to rejoicing always. But with regard to bonds,* Jos. 
 suffers as much as I do. I only put the clock in front of 
 him so that he might not exceed the hour, and it put him in 
 such fearful bondage that he could scarcely speak. And if 
 
 brother P happened to come in during his meeting his 
 
 bonds were endless. The only difference that I can see 
 between us is that he says: 'Sit still and believe, and it 
 will come to pass ;' while I say, 'Up and be doing while 
 
 you believe.' I must say I enjoy the uphill, 
 
 struggling path most of all." 
 
 Hannington was present, after this, at more than one 
 Conference. He was in perfect sympathy with the aims 
 of the good and holy men who spoke at the meetings 
 alluded to above. Their teaching was the daily practice 
 of his life. But he was essentially a man of active, fight- 
 ing faith, and some of the disciples, in preaching what was 
 then regarded as a new doctrine, no doubt went beyond 
 their masters, and exaggerated their gospel of a restful 
 life into a repudiation of that uphill struggle which Han- 
 nington knew to be a very practical thing. 
 
 '■'■Jan. isf, 1877. — The New Year breaks in upon me. 
 How ? How ? Under a new epoch I am engaged to be 
 married. I, who have always been supposed, and have sup- 
 posed myself, to be a confirmed bachelor, cross, crabbed, 
 
 *" Bonds '' or "bondage "in Hannington's vocabulary always 
 meant want of freedom in speaking, praying, or preaching. He 
 was "in bondage" when anything weighed upon his spirits or 
 prevented him from launching himself unrestrainedly into his 
 subject. 
 
128 James Haiinmgton. [A.D. 1877. 
 
 ill-conditioned ! What a change in the appearance of every- 
 thing does this make ! It, however, seems to fill me with 
 the things of this world, and to make me cold and dead. 
 Lord Jesus, grant that we may love Thee each succeeding 
 hour more abundantly. Amen, amen." 
 
 So Hannington commences his diary for the year 1877. 
 The allusion to an approaching marriage is explained by 
 another entry which occurs shortly before : 
 
 '■'■Dec. 7.btli. — Proposed to Blanche Hankin -Turvin, 
 and was accepted." 
 
 Miss Hankin-Turvin was the second daughter of Cap- 
 tain James Michael Hankin-Turvin, formerly of Terlings 
 Park, Gilston, Hertfordshire. She and her mother were at 
 this time residing at Leacrofts, Hurstpierpoint, and were in 
 the habit of attending St. George's Chapel. Hannington 
 had from the first recognized Miss Hankin-Turvin's fitness 
 for the duties of a clergyman's wife, and admired her sterling 
 qualities and earnestness of character. This before he had 
 any intention of giving up his independence as a bachelor. 
 He was not one of those men who are dependent upon the 
 ministrations of women. He was complete in himself, 
 handy and helpful, quite capable of managing his own 
 household. Full of ways and habits of his own, too, 
 which he was aware might not commend themselves to 
 any wife. His heart, moreover, was not disengaged; his 
 work was his wife ; in a very real sense he was wedded to 
 it. He scrutinized jealously any other affection which 
 threatened to make an exacting demand upon his time and 
 attention. 
 
 He was, however, beginning to discover that a bachelor 
 clergyman is subject to certain disadvantages from which his 
 married brother is free. He is liable to annoyances and 
 hindrances well known to every popular celibate. He may 
 easily -find himself in positions of much awkwardness and 
 difficulty. He was not able to avail himself of opportunities 
 of access to certain classes of people to whom he would 
 have had ready entrance as husband and father. He had 
 also convinced himself, by observation of other married 
 
^t. 29.] Engaged to he Married. 1^9 
 
 couples, that a wife who was like-minded with her husband 
 might be to him the most effective help in his work that it 
 was possible for him to obtain. 
 
 When these experiences coincided with his own strong 
 inclination, and added force to the pleadings of his heart, 
 he delayed no longer, but, as we have seen, proposed to a 
 lady who he had every reason to believe would satisfy his 
 most exacting requirements. 
 
 In this he was not disappointed. His wife became his 
 second self. She entered with all her steadfast heart and 
 soul into his many works. She softened in him what 
 needed to be softened, strengthened him to persevere when 
 she saw that he was down-hearted, encouraged him in his 
 favourite scientific pursuits, bore with a bright and gentle 
 patience those vagaries of his which might have proved a 
 severe trial to one less wise than herself, submitted to be 
 teazed with unvarying good humour, never let him feel 
 that he was reined in, curbed, or hampered, exacted no 
 demonstrations of affection from him other than he freely 
 gave, ever quietly helping, never complaining or obtruding 
 selfish wants of her own to hinder him from making any 
 sacrifice, she conferred upon him the greatest blessing which 
 God has in store for a man in this world — a good wife. 
 
 " So these were wed, and merrily rang the bells." 
 
 The marriage was celebrated on February the loth 
 in the parish church. The service was choral. Five 
 clergymen, including the Eector and Mr. Bell Hankin, 
 assisted at the ceremony. The church was crowded from 
 end to end, all Hannington's own flock who were able 
 being present to witness the act. He and his bride made 
 their way through a long lane of warm-hearted and enthu- 
 siastic friends to their carriage. With his char^iclieristic love 
 of making himself out to be as odd as possible, he writes : 
 " I walked down to church with my umbrella, and called 
 in as usual at Mr. Mitten's. In the vestry I remarked 
 that if ever I was married again I would have another choral 
 wedding, and finally I jumped first into the carriage, and 
 left the"bride to follow." 
 
130 James Hanningion. [A.D. 1877. 
 
 The first letters to his wife were written four or five 
 months later. These letters abound with the peculiar pet 
 names which he was wont to bestow upon all those for 
 whom he cared. Some of these were in sound anything 
 but complimentary, but his wife and his friends knew how 
 to read between the lines. These to his wife commence 
 variously : " My dearest Wifie," or " My very dear Bochim," 
 "My dearest Missus," "My dear Bellinzona/' and, now 
 and again, "My dearest Heart's Beloved." ^They are full 
 of allusions which require almost a glossary to make them 
 comprehensible to a stranger. Hannington had a vocabu- 
 lary of his own which was expressive enough to those who 
 held the key to it. 
 
 He and his friend May spent a few weeks during June 
 in the Scilly Islands. From there he writes 
 
 " A'Iy dearest, — It has been a great relief to me to 
 think to-day that you have heard of our whereabouts. 
 I expect day after day Betsy in heat and dust toiled up 
 and got a thump for not bringing back any news. How- 
 ever, now you will be satisfied. I received two letters 
 from you last night, one with the news of poor dear John's 
 death. I was very cut up about it, though I ought not to 
 have been, for it was a wonderful mercy. Trained for a ifV! 
 weeks in the school of affliction, and then taken home to 
 Glory. You may tell Mrs. Parsons, if you will, that 
 I hope to preach a funeral sermon on the Sunday 
 evening after my return, that is July 15th, if nothing • 
 prevents. 
 
 " Things are going on very smoothly here with us. The 
 weather is excellent. The Botany first-rate, and the Beetles 
 moderately good. There are fewer than anybody might 
 expect, though I have taken several; quite enough to 
 occupy my spare moments. Yesterday Mr. Atkin took us 
 over to the island of St. Agnes. We met there two cele- 
 brated old botanists. I addressed them: 'Are von Mr 
 Ralfs .? ' ' Yes.' ' Are you Mr. Curnow \ ' ' Yes How' 
 ever do you know us?' 'Mitten,' said I ' Ar,. .,^,', 
 Mitten?' 'No,' I replied. 'Oh, dear, what tp/yZ 
 
JEt. 29.] Letters to His Wife. 1 3 1 
 
 said they. I told them that Mitten had asked me to call 
 upon them, and we got on very well together, and they 
 pointed out Arthrolobium Ebrac, Trif., Suffoc, Glom., and 
 a new Lavatera that Ralfs had just found. I cannot be too 
 thankful for this pleasant change, and only wish that you 
 were a more scambleinous Tomboy.* 
 
 " And now for one anecdote. A man showed us the 
 way up to our hotel when we arrived — our two selves and 
 two medical men. The landlady, meeting him at the door, 
 said, ' How many have you brought ? ' ' Four, Mum.' 
 ' Any ladies ? ' ' No.' ' Oh, thank goodness ! ! ! ' 
 
 " After this we dined very comfortably together. 
 
 " My kindest love to my dear Ma. I hope you have 
 not been frightened. A thousand kisses from 
 
 " Your very affectionate 
 
 " Husband." 
 
 His diary supplements the above allusion to the two 
 botanists : 
 
 '•'■ July ^th. — Explored St. Martin's. Met again the 
 old gentlemen whom the boatmen contemptuously describe 
 as old herbalists, and told us that one poisoned himself last 
 year, and it took all the doctors in Penzance to set him 
 right ! Found them gathering Ophiog : Lusitan. 
 
 '■'■ e^th. — Sailed to Western Islands. Landed on Gorregan 
 in search of greater black-back gulls. The Schiller was 
 wrecked near these rocks ; and what a hideous mass of 
 rocks it is ! On every side you see ugly black heads peeping 
 up. They require the pen of Virgil to describe them. 
 
 " nth. — Left Penzance with F. G. May. I secured a 
 carriage by putting an umbrella in the corner. On my 
 return, I found that an old lady and gentleman, without 
 observing my umbrella, had taken my seat. Presently the 
 old lady said, ' My dear, that is an umbrella behind you.' 
 It was produced and carefully examined. 'Most miserable 
 old thing ! give it to the guard.' ' I beg your pardon/ I 
 intervened ; ' that is mine.' " 
 
 * Mrs. Hannington was not then strong enough to accompany 
 her husband. 
 
132 James Hanmngton, [A.D. 1877. 
 
 On Nov. 8th he writes : " Paid a visit to Darley Abbey, 
 and stayed with Miss Evans, ' the Clerical Hotel of the 
 Midland Counties.' The dear old lady seems much the 
 same. She is now about ninety-one years old. The ser- 
 vants show their age more than their mistress." 
 
 The end of November found him in Atwick, where he 
 f.nd his brother Joseph conducted a short Mission. He writes : 
 
 "Mr DEAREST WiFiE, — To begin at the beginning, I 
 had better go back again to Darley. I found things in rather 
 . a sad plight — such a number of backsliders among the young 
 people — and I could not get to see any of them; they kept 
 out of my way. I stopped over Friday^ and had a nice 
 meeting of old friends in the evening, just about forty, but 
 all believers. Rhoda just been pushed in ; but it won't do, 
 I expect. 
 
 " I met Jos at Hull, and came on to Atwick with him ; 
 we had a prayer-meeting to begin with. Only two or three 
 came. I was very tired, and spoke very feebly. Jos had 
 got on a mackintosh, in which he rustled and fidgeted so 
 incessantly, the men who prayed shrieked so terrifically, 
 that I burst out into one hysterical giggling fit — fortunately 
 not visibly. But what an awful beginning ! I was very 
 much cast down. Sunday morning, full of doubts and fears, 
 but was enabled to speak more at liberty than I have ever 
 been before. . . - Rhoda squeezed in by Jos, but, of 
 course, I can't recei\e.* ... I am in bondage still, 
 
 * This word "receive'' was one of Hannington's own vocabu- 
 lary'. He was always very cautious of accepting or " receiving " 
 a person as a saved soul upon the bare profession of faith in 
 Christ. Ke liked to wait for the proof in the changed life. His 
 brother Joseph would rush in triumphantly asserting, " Such an one 
 is saved, or is at liberty." To whom James would reply, "Hush 
 Jos, I can't receive in such a hurry." This was especially' the case 
 when the two brothers were working together, as in this instance. 
 The Rhoda referred to is an old servant who had been nearly 
 thirty years in the service of the family. She had been often 
 prayed for and pleaded with, but remained spiritually dead 
 During this Mission she was brought to the Saviour. Thouo-h Han- 
 ningtcn feared to "receive" her precipitately, her case proved to 
 be a real and abiding one — much to the joy of the whole family 
 
^t. 30.] Mission at Atwick. 133 
 
 and the more so as Jos keeps me laughing nearly all day 
 with his wonderful sayings and remarks, . . . We hope 
 Rhoda will do. Everybody receives readily but myself, and 
 you know I am always rather unready to receive. 
 I need not tell you both to pray — you are doing that. 
 " Your very, very, very, very affectionate 
 
 " Husband." 
 
 In his diary he writes : " A man turned up from 
 another parish, and walked all round the neighbourhood, 
 literally compelling the people to come in. Each service 
 saw more and more, with a small but yet very blessed 
 result. God be praised for even one ! Oh, the value of 
 one soul ! it is priceless." 
 
 I find a letter at this time from the Rev. J. Dawson, 
 who had left Darley Abbey, and was then Vicar of St. 
 Peter's, Clifton, inviting Hannington to take part in a 
 Mission to be held in his church in February of the ensuing 
 year. He says : ^ 
 
 "We shall want James. We can't do without him. 
 It won't be like a Mission without him, so he must come." 
 
 On Sunday, the 2nd of December, his first child was 
 born; and on the 6th of January, 1878, was baptized bv 
 his father under the name of James Edward Meopham. In 
 his diary he writes : " I never seemed to enter into the 
 Service so much as to-day : ' Thine for ever, God of love. 
 Hear us from Thy throne above. Thine for ever may we 
 be, Here and in eternity.' " 
 
 '■'■Jan. I2th. — Saw Mrs. P. H.'s housekeeper. Dying of 
 cancer, and now sinking very fast. God, I fully believe, 
 has used me here. She could not speak, but knew me. 
 When I said, 'Eye hath not seen^ nor ear heard,' the dying 
 face lighted up with joy. 'We shall meet again/ I added. 
 She pointed upwards with really solemn majesty." 
 
 On the 2ist of January, 1878, Hannington took part in 
 the Birmingham Mission. The following was his first letter 
 to his wife : 
 
 " Mr DEAREST Lily, — I hope you arrived safely at 
 
134 James Hminington. [A.D. 1878. 
 
 your Ma's on Monday afternoon, and that you, old Ma, and 
 Squaliner Grub * are all quite well. 
 
 " I am thankful to say that I arrived in Birmingham 
 quite safely. No adventures on the journey of any kind 
 whatever. On my arrival at the Vicarage, I found that I 
 was to stay with a friend; and so, after some dinner, I was 
 received by an admirable widow lady, and was presently 
 shown into a bedroom as large, I should say, as my father's. 
 Four gas brackets flaring; a fire large enough to roast an 
 ox; table, chairs, sofa, etc., etc.; in fact, everything to 
 make me comfortable. At seven o'clock I was fetched by 
 the Vicar to go to the Mission Hall. Alas! alas! my 
 heart rather sunk when we arrived : an empty room, and 
 various signs of a certain dry Churchism. However, after 
 a bit, the room began to fill; but I could see at once 
 the way had not been prepared. However, I preached 
 with liberty, and had an after-meeting, and tried to get them 
 to stop. The Lord directed me to one soul ; as far as I 
 could see, a genuine case. I think that there might have 
 been more, but the organist got up directly I said that I 
 should now speak to any souls who were anxious, and 
 that the rest might go, and said that there would be a choir 
 practice ! 
 
 "I never heard such a thing in my life. It is uphill 
 work, I foresee. However, we must just go forward, 
 expecting a great blessing, and I really cannot but think 
 that it will be so. 
 
 " Kindest love to your Ma, and your dear old self, 
 " I remain your very affectionate 
 
 "Husband. 
 
 The diary has some references to the above R-Iission : — 
 
 " Sadly interrupted by a huge, tipsy man wedged into 
 the middle of a crammed meeting. Nevertheless, the Lord 
 gave me immense power, so that I held them together in 
 spite of intense interruption. But the strain was so great 
 that I afterwards burst into tears." 
 
 * The baby ! 
 
^t. 30.] Praying for the Spirit. i3_5 
 
 " A man professed to be in difficulty because he had 
 been told that God came from Teman* (Hab. iii. 3)." 
 
 " A most interesting case ; a young man named 
 
 kept me up till 11.30 p.m." 
 
 Altogether, Hannington's part in the Birmingham 
 Mission of 1878 seems to have been a blessed one, and 
 his name will be remembered by not a few in that 
 town. 
 
 " Feb. ^ih. — From a passage I lead relating to the 
 experience of Moody, I have been led to cry earnestly to be 
 much more filled with the Holy Ghost. I have long felt 
 that my ministry, my life, my conversation, lacks unction. 
 Thou wilt fill me, O my God ! 
 
 * Those who have worked among the illiterate poor will not be 
 surprised at this entry. It is amazing at what strange difficuUies 
 they are often stumbled. I have myself met with labouring men 
 who were also unable to surmount this verse about God coming 
 from Teman ! This was in Surrey. There are certain stock diffi- 
 culties which appear to perplex certain classes of minds. The 
 following is an example of such another : Once, when fishing off 
 Hastings, the boatman put to us this question : " ll'/io/n did Cain 
 marry? ' Many years afterwards, when visiting the Infirmary 
 of the Farnham Workhouse, I was brought into contact with a 
 tramp who was dying of dropsy. During a somewhat long illness 
 I attended him very closely. He was almost as ignorant as a 
 heathen. The elementary facts of the life of our Lord had to be 
 imparted to him as to an infant. But what he heard he received 
 with the simpUcity of a child. He seemed gratefully to accept 
 Christ and His Salvation. One morning, when I asked him how 
 he had passed the night, he made this wonderful reply : " I was in 
 awful pain, and sweat all night. I thought the morning would 
 never come. But oh ! I thought to myself t tiad never yei 
 sweat blood!' At last the end drew near. He was lying' still and 
 almost without power of speech. His lips seemed to move, and I 
 bent down my head to catch his words. He painfully raised his 
 arm, and drew down my ear close to his mouth. I listened with 
 all my might, and these were the words I heard slowly and with 
 difficulty uttered: '■'■Can — you — tell — me — who — did — Cain- 
 marry ?" I was, I confess, startled. But to his simple mind the 
 difficulty was a real one — a last temptation whispered into his soul 
 to make him doubt the great Salvation. So I gently explained as 
 best I could, and, satisfied with the reply, he closed his eyes and 
 died in peace. — Ed. 
 
ij') James Hminington. [A.D. iSyS- 
 
 '•'■Feb. 14th. — I pray, and keep praying, for the Holy 
 Spirit." 
 
 About this time he caught a very severe cold, which 
 developed into an attack of rheumatism, by wrhich he was 
 completely disabled, and confined to house and bed. The 
 doctors, finding that the usual treatment failed, recom- 
 mended a course of baths at Aix-les-BainS", and a short 
 residence abroad. 
 
 With his mother-in-law, to whom he was greatly 
 attached, to take charge of him, he sailed on May 21st, and 
 remained abroad for two months. His unsparing expendi- 
 ture of himself in his work had thoroughly exhausted his 
 vitality, and it was only by slow degrees that he recovered 
 his usual elasticity of body and mind. He amused himself, 
 and kept his mind from altogether stagnating, by compiling a 
 book of rhymes for the children, in which his own adven- 
 tures, and those of his poor mother-in-law, were mercilessly 
 caricatured and described. The latter is always depicted in 
 a monstrous coal-scuttle bonnet, and portrayed in every 
 imaginable funniest predicament. Her son-in-law was a 
 terrible coiiipagnon de voyage for a person who was sensitive 
 about appearing afterwards in pen and ink. About himself 
 and his baths he writes to his wife : — 
 
 "My dearest Heart's Beloved, — 
 
 Ma has told you all about snow mountains and nightingales, 
 and the old gentleman whom she took for a commercial 
 traveller, and couldn't bear, and who turned out to be Lord 
 
 Charles , and then she found out how exceedingly 
 
 interesting his anecdotes were! So I must pass on to give 
 you a little idea of the baths. As we take them daily, I am 
 getting quite learned. You get up and dress lightly at a 
 tew minutes before eight. Then, at the establishment, you 
 are seated on a wooden stool, and two jets of hot water are 
 let fly at you ; the man asking ' Est-ce bon ? ' meaning, Is 
 the water too hot or too cold >. And if you object, and say: 
 ' ^— '— i— t— %—'i—h— boiling! ' he says : ' AW, c'est bon.' 
 He then begins to rub and pinch you from head to foot after 
 ^hich he lightly rubs you with a towel, and then rings a 
 
JEt. 30.] Aix-les-Bains. 137 
 
 bell. At this two men appear with a hooded chair, in which 
 is laid a blanket. You enter, and are swaddled up tight like 
 a mummy, so tight that you can't move. You are told to 
 lean well back, and off you go, full tilt, to your hotel. 
 Starting from the baths you go down a steep flight of stairs ; 
 the curtains are drawn in front so that you cannot see, and 
 vou can't move hand or foot, and you feel inclined to scream 
 to the men to tell them you are going to pitch on your 
 head. One morning, as I arrived near my hotel, a conver- 
 sation took place between Fanchette, the maid, and my 
 men. 'Who have you got there.'' said she. 'Number 
 
 Fifteen.' 'Fifteen! Why, she .' '■'Tx^n't she ; it's 
 
 he.' ' He ! Then it's Fourteen.' I had told them the 
 wrong number, and narrowly escaped being carried into a 
 lady's room ! Arriving at the hotel, you have to be got 
 upstairs, which is a somewhat difficult process, and rather 
 trying to the nerves. The curtains are then drawn back, 
 and you are taken up by the shoulders and feet, and lifted 
 like a mummy into bed. There you have to lie for about 
 half an hour, to produce a re-action, when your housemaid, 
 who is a man, comes and unmummies you. I hope that, 
 after a bit, I shall be better, but there are not many signs 
 yet." 
 
 Alpine air, however, and rest of body and mind, soon 
 began to tell. On July 21st he accepted a proposal to 
 preach at Pontresina. " I did so to see how I stood it. I 
 preached from Isaiah liii. 6, to a small, but breathlessly 
 attentive congregation." Ten days later he was back once 
 more at Hurst, and ready to renew the fray. 
 
 His note is : " Reached England and Home, finding all 
 well, and my precious son much grown." 
 
 One of Hannington's favourite fictions with regard to 
 himself was that he had no patience with children, espe- 
 cially babies. " O my, gracious ; there's that baby again," 
 he would say to the indignant mother, when his latest 
 arrived nephew or niece was brought in for his inspection ; 
 or when paying a visit to another sister-in-law, whose 
 husband he was about to join in some distant Mission work, 
 
138 James Hannington. [A.D. 1878 
 
 "Well, now, I suppose I must see the baby" (with an 
 indescribable intonation on the word baby), " or its father will 
 be asking me questions about it which I can't answer." 
 But whatever the mothers may have thought of this pro- 
 fession of indifference to their offspring, the children 
 themselves were not to be so deceived. They knew better. 
 No one was more popular in the nursery than Uncle James. 
 The very children in the village would creep up close to 
 him and beg for bull's-eyes as he passed. And as for babies, 
 he loved as much as many another man to feel their soft 
 little fingers clasp around his own — when no one was 
 looking. In a letter to his wife, he writes of the baby of 
 the day : " Yoti may kiss Ins little dear face for me." A 
 man who did not love children never wrote such an expres- 
 sion as that. " His little dear face ! " The baby-face must 
 have been in his mind, all dimpled and soft and fresh for a 
 kiss, when he wrote the words.* 
 
 The following extracts from the diary may be given ; 
 
 '■'■ Sept. I2t/i. — Visiting one of my parishioners, I was 
 asked if God were alive before Jesus Christ, who Paul was, 
 and who the Israelites were ! " An ignorance not so un- 
 usual as some might suppose. " Visited old Mrs. Sayers, 
 who lives with two unmarried sons. She is ninety ; they 
 
 * Several years later, after his consecration to the Bishopric, 
 while narrating some of his African experiences to a congregation 
 at Bath, he made the following statement, than which I cannot 
 recal any more touching in its tender simplicity: — 
 
 " When far inland, the mail comes in but once a month. Its 
 arrival is heralded by two gun-shots, fired in quick succession. No 
 matter what one may be doing, lie leaves his occupation, and 
 hurries forward to get a sight of his precious letters. There would 
 be some, perhaps, from my brothers, some from friends, always 
 one from my wife. But once there was one which, when I saw the 
 handwriting, I opened iirst. It was on a bare half-sheet of paper, 
 the lines running this way and that way ; tumbled and soiled ; but 
 that one letter 1 read first, and treasured above all the others. It 
 ■was from my dear little jo/z, and contained but two lines: 'My 
 dear Father, — God bless you.' These few words received by me 
 in the wilds of Africa were more precious than many a loneer 
 letter." ^ ^ 
 
^t. 3I-] Reads Writings of tJie Jansenists. 139 
 
 both over sixty. She said : ' I boxed Joe's ears the other 
 day, and sent him up to bed, as the boy was troublesome. 
 There,' she said, ' I forgot they are growing up.' " 
 
 "Mr. Dear has left me his Jansenist engravings and 
 books; I became intensely interested in them." 
 
 The reading of these books seems to have revealed to 
 Hannington the fact that high-souled purpose and true 
 spirituality of mind are to be found among men who belong 
 to widely differing schools of thought. He found much in 
 the writings of Pascal and the Port-Royalists that delighted 
 him. He could not but recognize that they too had been 
 taught of God. He says: "1 think that many of my 
 opinions were slightly modified, and my sympathies were 
 enlarged." 
 
 " Very much exercised about preaching the same truths 
 Sunday after Sunday. My mind was afterwards directed to 
 a doctor who uses the same medicines for the same diseases 
 all the year round ; and, again, to the fact that we eat and 
 drink the same things day after day and year after year." 
 
 On November 23rd he conducted a mission at D . 
 
 " Tremendous cautions about what I was to do, and what 
 not to do. Above all things not to be excitable. I 
 was shown the church, and went up into the pulpit. I 
 took hold of it with a strong hand, to try whether the desk 
 and sides would stand much knocking about. I perceived, 
 to my intense amusement, that all this was carefully noted, 
 and produced a feeling of terror as to what I was going to 
 do when I preached ; and many further hints were given." 
 
 '■'•Dec. 2i)th. — Gave a Christmas party to men, to keep 
 drunkards out of the public-house. About sixty came. 
 After prayer and hymns we spent the evening in looking at 
 books, microscope, and magic lantern." 
 
 "_/««. 1st, 1879. — ^ rnake no resolutions for the coming 
 year. I pray for more earnestness, more love, more dili- 
 gence, greater regularity, and entire consecration to the 
 service of the Lord." 
 
 " On Christmas Day old W. D. was converted, to the 
 
140 James Hannington. [A.D. 1879. 
 
 best of my belief, by the reading of the Collect, Epistle, 
 and Gospel/'' 
 
 '■'■\^th. — The Rector has decided to have a Mission, 
 and I have written to Ernest Boys." 
 
 " 2yd. — Brighton, to meet the Bishop on the question of 
 the Mission. Praise God, the Bishop has helped us much." 
 
 '•'■Mar. 1st. — Mission commenced. The Bishop adminis- 
 tered the Holy Communion to the workers, and in the 
 afternoon gave a splendid address, full of Evangelical truth." 
 " All through the Mission the services were densely crowded. 
 On Sunday evening every corner of the church was packed, 
 and many went away." 
 
 '■'■Mar. 19///. — Called on Arthur Garbett. He told 
 me that the archdeacon was dying, but transcendently 
 peaceful." 
 
 " April C)ik. — Introduced to Canon Garbett, who 
 preached at the parish church. A splendid disquisition, but 
 far above the heads of a country congregation." 
 
 '■'■April 1-1,111. — Easter Day. Piercingly cold, and 
 ground covered with snow, which contrasted strangely with 
 the Easter decorations. 58 ccmmunicants." 
 
CHAPTER XI. 
 
 HOME MISSION WORK AND PERSONAL DIARY {continued). 
 
 (1879-82.) 
 
 " But, good my brother, 
 Do not, as some ungracious pastors do, 
 Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven. 
 Whilst, Hke a puft and careless libertine, 
 Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, 
 And recks not his own rede." 
 
 Shakespeare. ; 
 
 Mr. Scriven came to Hurstpierpoint in May of 1879, 
 and spent some time with Hannington, during which they 
 made together some interesting architectural tours in the 
 neighbourhood. Mr. Scriven is an enthusiastic architect, 
 and he found in his former pupil an untiring and intelligent 
 listener. Everything of this sort interested Hannington. 
 He was full of information obtained by his acquisitive mind, 
 and stored up by a retentive memory in the course of his 
 wanderings. His knowledge of folklore, of the geological 
 peculiarities, of the flora and fauna, and of the local tradi- 
 tions of almost every place through which he had passed, 
 made him the best of companions. 
 
 He returned with Mr. Scriven as far as Sherborne, where 
 the two visited the Abbey Church, and, being joined by his 
 old friend and fellow clifF-climber and egg-hunter, Mr. F. 
 May, crossed over to Lundy Island to spend there his 
 summer holiday. 
 
 And here again we notice how in the midst of his 
 play Hannington never seems to have forgotten what some 
 would have called his work. The business of seeking to 
 influence sculs in behalf of Christ was apparently never 
 alien to any of his moods. His diary makes it abundantly 
 
143 James Hannington. [A.D. 1879. 
 
 dear that this was not merely the work of his hfe, but the 
 delight of it. It did not occur to him that to talk on the 
 subject of religion was "talking shop." It was the most 
 natural thino- in the world to him to converse about those 
 truths which were to himself as meat and drink. In the 
 midst of jottings of architectural trips and Lundy Island 
 clamberings we find such entries as the following : 
 
 " The Lord has led me to speak to Harry G., and has 
 brought him to the knowledge of the truth. Edwin A., 
 too, has been gradually led to believe in Jesus." 
 
 There are some excellent persons whose society becomes 
 oppressive, and their conversation a source of nervous appre- 
 hension to everybody. They always appear to be lying in 
 wait for an opportunity. Whatever may be the theme of 
 discussion, whether weighty or light, everyone instinctively 
 knows that they will turn it by and by into a " profitable" 
 channel. Their companion for the time being is made to 
 feel that they lie at the catch. Whatever he may say will, 
 he is sure, be used as a handle upon which to fasten some 
 argument which makes for religion. He is put upon the 
 defensive. These good people are, he suspects, only affect- 
 ing to take an interest in his sports, pursuits, opinions, or 
 general affairs in order that they may bring the conversation 
 round to the "one thing needful," and spring upon him 
 the question whether or not he is saved. 
 
 Hannington was not one of this kind. The boys never 
 slipped round the corner when they saw him coming, or 
 trembled when they found that they were committed to a 
 tete-a-tcte with him, lest he should take them at a dis- 
 advantage and pin them with some question which they 
 were ill-disposed to contemplate and wholly unprepared to 
 answer. 
 
 At Mission times, when everybody knew what to expect 
 from him, he would, no doubt, endeavour, both openly and 
 by strategy, to get to close quarters with the consciences of 
 young and old, rich and poor. A friend might even find him- 
 self unceremoniously pushed into the presence of the Mis- 
 sioner to be " dealt with." But, as a rule, Hannintrton was 
 
Ail 31.] A Man among Men. ijo 
 
 full of real wisdom in his intercourse with the world. His 
 interest in the sports of the lads and lassies was quite sincere 
 and unaffected ; he made them feel that he was a big boy 
 himself, and loved fun for fun's sake. So also with the 
 elders, he came among them not merely as a prophet, but 
 as a man to whom nothing that pertained to men was in- 
 different. 
 
 There was no need _for him to pull in the subject of 
 religion, as it were, by the shoulders, and consciously and 
 painfully lead every subject of conversation up to it. All 
 his life, — his amusement as well as his labour, — was per- 
 meated by his faith in the Unseen. 
 
 " He had perceived the presence and the power 
 Of Greatness ; and deep feeling had impressed 
 Great objects on his mind, with portraiture 
 And colour so distinct, that on his mind 
 They lay like substances, and almost seemed 
 To haunt the bodily sense." * 
 
 Thus it came quite naturally to him, without preaching, 
 to speak to another of the eternal world, and of that City of 
 which he was himself a citizen. And men, too, in stress 
 of soul, would come to him, not as to a mentor, but as to a 
 brother, v/ho having passed through similar times of per- 
 plexity, and being now in possession of the spiritual blessing 
 after which they sought, could help them with his counsel. 
 
 On Lundy Island the two friends proceeded to shake 
 oflF years and respectability, and to behave like untamed 
 schoolboys loosed for a holiday. In one of his letters home 
 he says : 
 
 " We are not failing to enjoy ourselves We 
 
 watch the tremendous seas, and, like young children, ven- 
 ture on to small rocks as the sea is coming up, and laugh 
 at the unlucky wight who remains too long and gets 
 splashed. We bathe too. The other day I was knocked 
 down by a wave and bruised my knee. Beetles are rather 
 out of favour. I hope, my dear, that you are quite well, 
 
 * Wordsworth. 
 
144 Jatnes Hamiington. [A.D. 1879. 
 
 and have not disappointed your eyes out over the various 
 
 posts that have brought no letters I often think ot 
 
 sv/eet Gashum, and I send him and you the most tremendous 
 amount of kisses 
 
 "Oh, my dear, the rats have eaten my nailey boots. 
 Who would have thought of it ! But it was a judgment ! 
 Those boots have been nothing but trouble. The fact was 
 that my Pa gave them to me to give away, and I appro- 
 priated them to my own use ! They've leaked. They've 
 got wet and refused to get dry. They've been slippery on 
 the shore, slippery on the rocks, i was carrying them 
 through a pool of water ; a wave came, and to save 
 my boots I lost my balance, and fell and hurt my knee 
 and now the rats ! yes, the rats. Never defraud the poor of 
 a pair of boots again ! Perhaps the boots are the Jonahs 
 that keep us bound here.* But I can't give them away now. 
 Whether you shall send the other pair by Mr. Mitten or 
 not, I will leave until I land. Alas ! that will not be to- 
 day. We can see over to Instow, and nothing is coming. 
 
 " An hour or two later. The skiff is reported. We 
 are in the greatest glee. So good-bye. A thousand kisses, 
 and many to dearest little Gashum." 
 
 " Gashum," of course, is the baby. Why so called I 
 shall not be rash enough to attempt to guess, but Hanning- 
 ton nicknamed all those whom he loved. It was a special 
 mark of his affection. " Gashum " is mentioned in all the 
 letters of this date in ever varying terms of endearment. 
 In another sentence he says, "I hope dear little baby is 
 quite well. One thing I am quite certain about, and that 
 is that he does not miss his Gogum." 
 
 From Ilfracombe these two walked throuo-h much of 
 North Devon, seeking out places of architectural interest. 
 When they arrived at Bude, two hot, dusty and travel- 
 stained pedestrians, without a decent show of bao-o-awe of any 
 kind, and walked up to the hotel, they were received with 
 
 * They were detained for ten days beyond their time by rouThj 
 weather, durin? which no boat could cross from the mainland. '^ 
 
^t. 31.] Rojcghing It. 145 
 
 scant civility. Hannington looked tramp-like and unpromis- 
 ing. The innkeeper eyed him and was not cordial. He says, 
 " This amused us far more than if we had been received 
 as great men in disguise. I enjoy seeing every side of life." 
 
 Hannington and Mark Tapley would have been birds of 
 one feather. But it is certain that that prince of body- 
 servants would not have remained long in his employ. He 
 would have felt that there was no room for the development 
 of his special talent. 
 
 The diary continues : — 
 
 '•'■ July list. — Walked to Shermanbury. The church, 
 I am told, was originally the squire's stable, and I can well 
 believe it. The water was so high on the road that I had to 
 wait until a farmer came along and drove me over, but, 
 coming back, I had to strip. It was four feet deep on ih; 
 roadj an unknown thing in the middle of summer." 
 
 One need not pity him. Had he had to swim across 
 with his clothes on his head he would, I have little doubt, 
 have preferred it. 
 
 " 2%th. — Found my great-grandfather's tomb in New 
 Shoreham Church." 
 
 When Hannington returned home he proceeded to im- 
 part to his young men some of the architectural lore which 
 he had acquired. He seldom failed in quickly interestino- 
 others in what interested himself. On the Bank Holiday he 
 took a party of them to Three Bridges, and showed them 
 some fine old churches. He says : " My young Christians 
 take a very intelligent interest in architectare, scenery, and 
 botany. I cannot but feel that such things expand their 
 mind." 
 
 The following entry occurs for August 8th : 
 
 "Went into Brighton to hear Dr. Talmage, many of 
 whose sermons I have read, and some of which I have 
 admired. But why did I go to hear him I He was about 
 on a par with a third-rate actor. I was woefully dis- 
 appointed; although, after I got over the roughness of his 
 
 10 
 
146 James Hanningto7i. [A.D. 1879. 
 
 accent, I liked him better. Ilis power seems to lie in 
 his voice. If, for instance, he says the word zveeping, he 
 makes the word weep ; but I am sorry that I heard him." 
 
 On August 26th a little daughter was born, whom 
 he named Caroline Scriven. " God be praised for all His 
 mercies ! " 
 
 " Oct. litk. — Last week I gave notice that if anybody 
 liked to bring me half-a-dozen of any sort of vegetable, I 
 would put them in the church for our harvest festival, and on 
 Monday send them to London to be distributed in poor dis- 
 tricts. The response has been far beyond my expectation. 
 Things came in all day, and on Monday, four large hampers 
 were sent to Hambledon of Drury I/ane and Fegan of 
 Deptford."* 
 
 The manner in which he recognized the direct leading of 
 God is illustrated by the following : 
 
 " Nov. aot/i. — How the Lord directs our paths ! I had 
 said, I will have a rest this afternoon, and then something 
 said to me, ' The Lord has work for you that you do not 
 know of yet.' Dinner was half an hour late, which resulted 
 in my being in the house later than usual, and receiving an 
 immediate summons to a dying woman, whom I pointed to 
 the Saviour." 
 
 On April 24th, 1880, Hannington writes : — 
 
 " Ernest Boys arrived for a revisiting Mission. The 
 other end of the parish has received him coldly, so we at St. 
 George's opened our doors and received a blessing, although 
 there was nothing of great external interest to record." 
 
 '•'■ May yd. — Got hold of J. O., who boldly rejected 
 the Gospel." 
 
 * The Parish Magazine of the Drury Lane Mission Church has 
 the following reference to this gift : — '' The congregation of St. 
 George's increase their offerings to the poor folk of our Mission 
 every year. All honour to them ! This year they have sent us 
 vegetables, fruit and flowers. We simply danced for joy at the 
 sight of 8 cwt. of choice produce. They must have a glorious 
 minister over them, for ' Like priest, like people.' " 
 
JEt. 32.] In Ireland. 147 
 
 " 13//^. — Had a tremendous rowing — I can call it 
 nothing else — from a neighbouring clergyman, ths root of 
 whose grievance was that one of his parishioners was con- 
 verted at our Mission." 
 
 " 2yd. — I could not help noticing the curious 
 mixture in our congregation to-day. Two Unitarians, two 
 Roman Catholics, Ritualists, Wesleyans, Calvinists, a 
 Quaker, besides Congregationalists and open Plymouth 
 Brethren." 
 
 In July, Hannington and Air. Mitten, the botanist, 
 started together to spend their holidays by the Lakes of 
 Killarney. They spent their time hunting for mosses, much 
 to their mutual satisfaction. 
 
 On Sunday, the 1 8th, Hannington preached at Bally- 
 brach. " It struck me," he says, " that the Saxon was not 
 very acceptable to anybody except the Rev. B. Anderson, 
 who escaped from the sound of his own voice. Thev 
 appeared to me to be ready to hear of the sins of the Roman 
 Catholics, but never dreamt that Protestants were sinners 
 too, and didn't want to hear it. I may have been mistaken 
 in this supposition^ but I think not." 
 
 "Visited Muckross Abbe V, and found an honest man. 
 His compact, nominal as I thought, was not to take money. 
 He made himself most pleasant, and I offered him something 
 as one does to a railway porter. No ! He thanked me 
 affectionately, said that 'ie.'w of the hundreds he showed over 
 the place offered him anything. These he cursed for their 
 meanness from the bottom of his heart, but he would not 
 
 take a farthing When we left Killarney, I 
 
 saw at the station a leave-taking. I never did see such a 
 scene of tears, and kisses, and sobs, ainounting to howls. 
 Up rushes one and kisses the man who is departing on 
 both cheeks. ' I don't know you personally,' he says, *• but 
 shure, I'm a namesake of your wife's.' I don't know how 
 many miles he had not come just to kiss him. In an open 
 third class carriage they were talking very freely. One man 
 confessed plainly that he thought killing a landlord was no 
 breaking of the ' tin' commandments." 
 
148 James Hannington. [A.D. 18S0, 
 
 On his retarn to England, Hannington met Mr. F. May, 
 and spent a short time with him. They started, one day, to 
 walk across Dartmoor, and getting befogged, lost their way. 
 They soon f.',ll into a bog, and were in considerable peril. 
 Hannington was equal to the emergency. He says: " When 
 in the worst place 1 kept up F.'s drooping spirits by solemnly 
 pulling my tooth-brush out of my pocket and cleaning my 
 teeth. The shout of laughter at my composure, and the 
 breathing time it gave us, pulled us together, and we safely 
 crossed a dreadfully dangerous place. Arrived at Prince 
 Town, and thence to 'J'avistock, twenty-two miles, where we 
 caught the train and proceeded to South Petherwyn." 
 
 The following extract is touching : " How little there 
 seems in my diary about my wife. Her incapacity to walk 
 much, or to travel, causes us to go out together so seldom. 
 It is often a cause of regret to me that it should be so. But 
 while I am at play she is at work, and visits much in the 
 parish among the poor^ and almost exclusively among 
 them." 
 
 " I have this year preached 158 times, besides Bible 
 Classes. Last year, 136 times." 
 
 The next entry in the diary attests in a very remarkable 
 manner the sincerity of this man's life, while it throws a 
 strong light upon his complex character. Amidst all his 
 busy restlessness, there was in him a strong desire after 
 quietude. 
 
 Nirvana had no charms for such a nature as his. His 
 idea of the beatific life was not even the enjoyment of green 
 pastures by the side of still waters — if, at least, he had been 
 compelled to sleep there and dream for ever. He displayed 
 much self-knowledge when he wrote^ " I enjoy the uphill, 
 struggling path most of all." But, like every true-souled 
 man who has listened to the voice of God, and whose spirit 
 has enjoyed the delight of communion with the Highest, he 
 longed intensely after a life in which all remainino- hindrances 
 to intercourse with the Divine Spirit should be removed. 
 There were times when he felt that just to drink in the Love 
 of God, and to receive the communications of His Will 
 
JEi 32.] A Monk ! 149 
 
 would satisfy all the cravings of his nature, while it exercised 
 to the utmost every faculty within him. He sometimes was 
 inclined to look upon those very recreations of his which all 
 his friends knew to be so absolutely necessary as safeguards 
 against the over-strain of his excitable nervous system, in 
 the light of hindrances to a perfect walk with God. Even 
 the active interest which he took in the work of his parish 
 and its manifold details seemed to him sometimes to clash 
 with that pure love of God which should be the motive and 
 mainspring of all endeavour. 
 
 O man of true and simple* soul, all who have known 
 what it is to long that they might flee away and be at rest — 
 at tzstfmn themselves — will sympathize with what you say : 
 
 "1881. Jan. yd. — Walked with Cyril Gordon and 
 M. Hankin to Cowfold, and went over the Monastery. It 
 is a huge place. It had the most extraordinary effect upon 
 me. It set me longing for a monastic life. I think, pro- 
 bably, a reactionary feeling after a long spell of hard work. 
 I exclaimed, 'Lord, let me spend and be spent for Thee.' " 
 
 A monk ! A monk of the Frangois Xavier type he might 
 have been. None other. And, indeed, of Xavier, allowing 
 for differences of creed and education, he often reminds one. 
 The same simple single-mindedness, the same fiery, im- 
 petuous zeal, the same scorn of personal discomforts, the 
 same indifference to luxury and contempt of danger, the 
 same childlike, unreasoning acceptance of the truth as it was 
 revealed to their own hearts, and the same magnetic power 
 of communicating their faith to others, characterized both 
 these missionary pioneers. 
 
 Had he lived in still earlier times he might have been a 
 Knight Templar, and, with virgin heart and body, have 
 wielded a good lance for the honourof Christ and His Church. 
 But a monk whose life must be spent in fast, vigil, and 
 mechanical prayer, who shuts himself off from the striving 
 of the sin-steeped, perishing world in order that he may the 
 better save his own soul 1 Never 1 
 
 * iv f S6\os oiiit fffTi — John i. 47. 
 
I jO James Hannitigtofi. [A.D. 1881. 
 
 He continues : " That night I had forty-two men pre- 
 sent at my Bible Class. Shut up in a monastery that could 
 not be. These Franciscans have no contact with the outer 
 world." 
 
 In the outer world we next find him — hard at work as 
 ever, and full of it. He had undertaken to conduct the 
 Services in Holy Trinity Church in connection with the 
 Blackheath Mission. His diary reports : 
 
 "■^ Feb. 18///. — Arrived at Holy Trinity Vicarage, Black- 
 heath. I am advertised to take twenty-seven Services in 
 eight or nine days, and they are pleading for more. ' As 
 thy day thy strength will be.' 
 
 '■^iqth. — Holy Communion at St. John's. Met dear 
 Latham, of Matlock, who greatly encouraged me and 
 
 strengthened my hands. Mr. understands nothing 
 
 about Missions, and is inclined to be obstructive. After- 
 noon went to hear Bishop Thorold. He preached a magnifi- 
 cent sermon to Mission workers. Evening, gave an address 
 to workers myself. About sixty present, which encouraged 
 me greatly." 
 
 He wrote home, saying : 
 
 " I heard an address froin the Bishop of Rochester, a 
 most magnificent sermon, touching on all points of the 
 Mission question. I was afterwards introduced to him, and felt 
 pleased that I had asked for his permission and benediction." 
 
 On the 28th he continues : 
 
 " For the last eight days I have been incessantly on the 
 move, so much so that I have been unable to keep any 
 record. It was more than hard work, more than uphill, 
 and yet very blessed, I preached four times one day, and 
 three times the next, alternately, making thirty times in all." 
 
 The next entry may be quoted as a hint to those who 
 invite clergymen to come amongst them and undertake 
 exhausting labours, with difficulty leaving their own home 
 work, and returning to it spent and nerve-worn, and who 
 
^t. 33-J At Blackheath. 151 
 
 forget that there are such things as expenses in connec- 
 tion with travel : 
 
 " I was put to £i^ expenses, and dear old Mr. 
 
 just as I was leaving, said : ' You will let me pay your cab 
 fare to the station ? ' This was the first word on the subject, 
 and the evident simplicity and good faith of the dear old man 
 quite took my breath away. ' No,' said I, ' I will pay it.' 
 However, he insisted on my taking eighteenpence." 
 
 Most men in such circumstances would have replied : 
 " Pray do not trouble to pay my cab, and I will send you an 
 account of the sum total of my expenses when I reach 
 home." But that was not Hannington's way. Money 
 was not unimportant to him at this time, as his fixed private 
 income did not expand with his family. But he suffered in 
 silence, and the only allusion to this little episode is to be 
 found in his private diary. 
 
 "April ijth, Easter Day. — Ninety-four communicants. 
 When I came here first I found only twenty-four or thirty." 
 
 The next entry affords an instance of the manner in 
 which his friends were accustomed to lean upon his rugged 
 sincerity when they needed real sympathy : 
 
 '■'•April 22nd. — Telegram from the Rev. to 
 
 come instantly. When 1 arrived I heard that his wife had 
 just been found dead. dreadfully cut up ; tele- 
 graphed to me for Christian sympathy." 
 
 '■'■ 2\tli. — Preached from Isa. xlix. 15, without especial 
 reference to the sad event. In the midst of the sermon I 
 heard an agonized burst of tears which I thought proceeded 
 
 from one of the s, touched by the reference to a 
 
 mother's love. Never did I preach in such mental distress, 
 such exquisite agony of mind. I scarce struggled through." 
 
 " May 2T,rd. — Visited my father on his yacht at Shore- 
 ham. Afterwards found to my great delight Trigonium 
 Stellatum," 
 
 On May 25th his third child was born, whom he named 
 Paul Travers. 
 
 Dear little Paul ! He is now five years old. In 
 
153 James Hanniitgton. [A.D. 1881. 
 
 hair, eyes, and contour of face much, if not quite, what his 
 father must have been at his age. When I visited Hurst 
 last spring, and he heard that I was an old friend of his 
 father's, he waited till we chanced to be alone, then crept 
 up and laid his elbows upon my knee. "Tell me something 
 about father," said he. " Your father," I said, " was a very 
 brave man, and a good man. Will you, too, try to be 
 both brave and good ? " So he listened with large eyes wide- 
 opened and awe-struck, as to the tale of some martyr hero 
 of the holy past. When I had finished, still with his elbows 
 on my knee and his upturned face resting upon his hands, 
 he said, with a plaintive quaver in his baby voice : " Tell 
 me ino7-e about father." The memory of that father, and 
 the record of the splendid self-sacrifices of his devoted life, 
 will be to his children a priceless legacy, in the possession of 
 which they, though orphaned, are most richly dowered. 
 
 On June 4th certain alarming symptoms warned the 
 family that Colonel Hannington * was in a more critical con- 
 dition than ever in former times of illness. He had been 
 repeatedly operated upon for stone, and his declining years 
 were full of unrest and pain. On Whit Sunday all realized 
 that he was dying, and James administered to him the 
 Holy Communion. He writes : 
 
 '■'■June 6th. — f^io a.m. called by doctor. Father worse. 
 Telegraphed to Alary, Sam, etc., who all came. I saw him 
 alone, remaining with him in constant attendance. At 11.30 
 the doctor insisted upon my going to bed. At 2.30 a.m., 
 June 7th, he ran into my room. 'Come at once.' I 
 leaped from bed, ran to the door, thinking he had left it 
 open, and nearly stunned myself. Recovenng, I ran in in 
 time to see the last two minutes of my father's life. As he 
 passed away a heavenly expression spread over his face. 
 Just two mmutes before he had said : ' Nurse, I am dying! ' 
 When she moved to help him he spoke his last words, ' Let 
 me go/ It was, indeed, we. all felt, a happy release from 
 intense suff^ering." 
 
 * Mr. Hannington was made J. P., and also appointed to the 
 Colonelcy of the ist Sussex Artillery Volunteers, in 1873. 
 
^t.33-] Death of His Father. 153 
 
 The funeral took place on June nth. "About five 
 hundred followed as mourners. After the ceremony at the 
 grave the friends adjourned to St. George's, where Mr. 
 Aldwell, of Southsea, administered the Holy Communion." 
 
 By his father's will James Hannington found himself 
 the owner of St. George's Chapel, but also in the awkward 
 position of the possessor of a church without a stipend, or 
 the means of providing one. He was still willing, as 
 hitherto, to give his ministrations without recompense, but 
 he felt that, in case he were led to undertake any other 
 work — and it was not to be supposed that he would remain 
 during his life the curate-in-charge of a small country 
 district — it would be extremely difficult for him to provide a 
 proper stipend for a successor out of his own strictly limited 
 private income. He felt that his father had made a mistake, 
 and had, by some unfortunate oversight, omitted to make a 
 suitable provision for the chapel. The discovery of this 
 was, no doubt, a severe blow to him, as St. George's, 
 though a curacy de jure., was almost a separate parish 
 de facto^ and in the continuance of the special organization 
 and work which he himself had initiated he took the most 
 lively interest. However, what had been left undone could 
 not now be done. He simply writes: "The Lord will 
 provide, and I will honour my father to tlie utmost of my 
 power." With regard to the chapel, it may be sufficient 
 to add that, before his last journey to Africa, Hannington 
 left it by will to his eldest brother, Mr. Samuel Hannington, 
 by whom all the responsibilities connected with it have 
 been heartily undertaken. 
 
 When the business connected with the death of his 
 father and the apportioning of his estate was concluded, 
 Hannington accompanied his eldest brother and family in a 
 tour through the Western Highlands of Scotland. He 
 was not in very good spirits, and the change of scene was 
 much needed by him. Here is an extract from his very 
 brief mention of this trip : 
 
 " Sunday^ Jidy yd. — Having arrived in church, the 
 Free Kirk at Kilchrenan, just after the conclusion of the 
 
154 James Hannington. [A.D. 1881. 
 
 first hymn, the minister, Mr. Stewart, stopped, leant over 
 the desk and said to me, ' Will you preach ? ' Sam pushed 
 me out into the aisle, and in two minutes I found myself 
 in a Highland pulpit. I preached from Joshua before Ai 
 with great liberty, and the people seemed kindly disposed 
 toward the Saxon. In the evening went to Portsonachan. 
 A young stranger preached a written sermon far over the 
 heads of the people, and a dog (there were several sheep 
 dogs in the congregation) worried a rabbit beneath the 
 boarding of the chapel floor ! " 
 
 "/?//^ iqih. — Baby Paul Travers christened. O Lord, 
 hear our prayer and make all- our children Thine, and Thine 
 only." 
 
 Two months later we met in Switzerland. Hanning- 
 ton had planned with Mr. Mitten to make a short moss- 
 hunting tour in August, and, when in Edinburgh, had 
 arranged that, if possible, we should spend a while together 
 at Zermatt. The two botanists started on the first of 
 August, and, making their way as speedily as they could to 
 Wasen, "crawled on hands and knees" along the St. 
 Gotthard Pass to Hospenthal. So Hannington describes 
 their progress. Nor without accuracy. When these enthu- 
 siasts got into a likely place they would hunt the ground 
 like beagles, lest a single rare or valuable specimen should 
 escape their jiotice. I find a reference in the diary to an 
 incident about which " Professor " Mitten, as Hannington 
 would call him, used often to be teazed, but which is 
 equally characteristic of both the collectors. While they 
 were exploring the high pastures and snow-flecked rocks 
 of the Riffel, I went up from Zermatt one morning to 
 pay them a visit. When I had almost surmounted the long 
 series of zigzags, and was a few hundred yards distant from 
 the inn, I was made aware of two figures, both busily 
 employed in grubbing around the base of a mossy rock. 
 Their pockets were bulky and distended, and they might 
 have been gold or diamond diggers, if one might judge 
 from the earnestness of their expression, and the energy 
 with which they scraped as if for some buried treasure. 
 
ALL 33-] The Moss Hunters. 155 
 
 I soon recognized the moss hunters. They were on 
 their way to Zermatt. Hannington was habited, as was 
 his wont on such occasions, in a loose brown suit of 
 some rough material, baggy at the knees and elbows, and 
 new some years before. From the soil-stained pockets 
 protruded leaves, stalks, and trailings as of moss. Upon his 
 head was one of those grass hats, like an inverted flower pot, 
 which one may buy at wayside stalls for a franc, and about 
 which he had loosely wound a pocket-handkerchief to shade 
 his sun-scorched face. He welcomed me warmly, and we 
 returned together to the inn to lunch, leaving Mr. Mitten 
 to the society of his cryptogams, and telling him that we 
 would rejoin him at the Hotel " Zermatt " in the evening. 
 
 As Hannington had not yet discovered any edelweiss, we 
 strolled after lunch to the one place on the brow of the 
 plateau overlooking the glacier where the flower grows 
 rather abundantly. It was quite late in the afternoon when 
 we returned and commenced the long descent. To our 
 intense amusement we came almost immediately upon " the 
 professor." He was still within a few yards of the rock 
 near which he had been when I first encountered them 
 both ! His pockets were more distended than ever, and he 
 had not yet exhausted the treasures of the neighbourhood. 
 The_/i^wr colligendi at once resumed its sway over Han- 
 nington, and when he had finished laughing at his friend, 
 he, too, sunk down upon his knees and recommenced his 
 scraping operations. It was in vain to spur on two such 
 incorrigibles, so I left them to follow when either light or 
 mosses should fail, and pursued my own course downward. 
 Though I had hurt my heel and my feet were encased in no 
 better protection than list slippers, which were continually 
 coming off, I reached the bottom some hours before the 
 botanists, still unsatiated, appeared at the hotel. 
 
 Hannington did not remain long enough in Switzerland 
 to become thoroughly bitten with the mania for Alpine 
 climbing, but he could not resist scaling one or two peaks. 
 The perilous always exercised a powerful fascination over 
 him. He often needed to hold himself in strong restraint 
 to keep out of danger when he had no excuse for encoun- 
 
156 James Hannington. [A.D. 1881. 
 
 tering it, and the mere encountering of which would have 
 been to him a fearful joy. Thus it may be imagined that 
 the precipices which wall in the valley of Zermatt, and 
 which have drawn together so many adventurous spirits, 
 offered a great temptation to him. 
 
 While at the RifFel, he sallied out alone one day, and 
 climbed the knife-like edge of the Riffelhorn quite unaided, 
 taking off his boots to enable him to cling to the steep rocks 
 which so sheerly overhang the Corner Glacier. They 
 told him, when he returned, that he had really endangered 
 his life. That a guide, or at least a competent companion, 
 should have been taken with him, and that more than one 
 experienced climber had been killed by a slip of the foot 
 from those treacherous rock slants. But, he writes : " It 
 did not seem dangerous to me." After all — as the Cat says 
 to Rudy, in Hans Andersen's story of the Ice Maiden — 
 " One does not fall down if one is not afraid." 
 
 He also ascended the Breithorn and Monte Rosa. 
 While on the latter mountain, he gave proof of that 
 determination and firmness of will which was one of his 
 distinguishing characteristics. As we have already stated, 
 he had commenced a vigorous crusade against intemperance 
 at Hurst, and had himself, for example's sake, become a 
 total abstainer. This pledge he considered binding under 
 all circumstances. He planned the A-Ionte Rosa expedition 
 rather abruptly, and telegraphed from the Riffel to the 
 hotel in which I was staying in Zermatt, asking me to join 
 him. This I was unable to do through having hurt my 
 foot, so he determined to make the ascent alone. The 
 start was effected at an early hour by the light of lanterns, 
 and when the morning was advanced he and his guides 
 found themselves upon the steep snow slopes which lead 
 upward from the Gorner Glacier. Hannington was not 
 very well, and suffered considerably from sickness. At one 
 time it seemed as though he would be unable to proceed. 
 " Snow sickness " is not uncommon among beginners, and 
 the usual remedy is a mouthful of brandy. This would 
 undoubtedly have been effectual, and his guides repeatedly 
 urged him to take some. He was, however, resolute, and 
 
^t. 33.] Sj>artaii Endurance. 157 
 
 conquering his wealcness by sheer effort of the will, per- 
 severed until he reached the summit. This was soon noised 
 abroad in Zermatt. Indeed, I heard of it the same even- 
 ing, and rode up to the RitFel early the following morning 
 to inquire for him. I found him busy with his mosses, 
 and none the worse — except indeed in complexion 
 — for his adventure. He got a good scolding for his 
 extreme and Spartan-like application to himself of his 
 own principles, but was, in our secret hearts, admired none 
 the less. 
 
 Dr. Francis Hawkins, who was with us at Zermatt, has 
 since told me that, meeting Hannington for the first time, his 
 eye was attracted to a severe swelling upon his hand — the 
 result of a fly-bite — which, from the extent of inflammation, 
 must have caused him no little inconvenience and pain ; 
 Hannington made light of it, but it struck his observer that 
 here was a man of no ordinary endurance and power of 
 self-control. We shall see later on how this same tenacity 
 of will and strength of endurance not only saved his life 
 more than once in Africa, during that terrible time of fever 
 and dysentery, when, left for dead by his bearers, he yet 
 found strength to crawl after them into camp — but how these 
 qualities impressed both his associates and dependents, and 
 constituted him their leader by right divine, as well as by 
 the fiat of the Home Committee. 
 
 After his spring holiday, Hannington did not feel himself 
 at liberty to prolong his Swiss tour beyond a fortnight, and 
 so turned his face steadfastly homeward. That same evening, 
 after the slow descent from the Riffel already described, 
 found him and Mr. Mitten at St. Nicolas. The next day 
 they walked to Visp,took train to Susten, and from thence, 
 passing up the smiling valley to Leukerbad, ascended the 
 steep bridle path which scales the stupendous cliffs of the 
 abysmal Gemmi, and spent the night at the little inn which 
 is perched like a raven's nest upon the very summit. All 
 the way the lithe grey lizards glanced like flecks of shadow 
 over the grey stones. Grasshoppers with green and crimson 
 wings flashed in short flight across the path like living 
 emeralds and rubies. Great Apollo butterflies and striped 
 
158 James Hannington. [A.D. 1881. 
 
 swallow-tails soared and balanced themselves on widespread 
 lazy wings over the deep ravine, or raced up and down the 
 steep hill sides above the nodding grasses. The air was 
 tremulous with the chirping of innumerable hosts of crickets 
 — a tireless invisible choir. Hannington was indifferent to 
 none of these things, but, upon this occasion, botany was 
 the order of the day, and the two "herbalists" concentrated 
 their attention mainly upon the flora of the districts through 
 which they passed. They were so delighted with their 
 " find " on the Gemmi, that they remained there for nearly 
 two days, collecting on the Kandersteg side of the pass. 
 Hannington writes : " Entering some woods the flora was so 
 superb and so different to what we had come across, that the 
 
 Professor was nearly crazy with delight At 
 
 Berne, after giving a very little time to the sights, two 
 travellers astonished the natives by visiting all the fountains, 
 and peering down into the water, at times turning up their 
 sleeves and groping in the depths beneath, dragging up tiny 
 fragments of a minute fissidens * which is only known to 
 grow in Berne." 
 
 A few days later, Hannington was again in England, 
 and, after a short visit to Martinhoe, where he preached to 
 congregations of his old friends, he settled down once more 
 to work in St. George's. 
 
 The last two chapters have been occupied with a some- 
 what desultory description of various incidents of Hanning- 
 ton's ministerial life. They have been given in the order 
 in which they are referred to in his private journal and 
 letters. Not every event is here recorded, but those have 
 been selected which seem most to display the man, his 
 idiosyncrasies, and his method of working. His was a 
 nature for the proper understanding of which it will be 
 necessary to throw all available side lights upon it. Men are, 
 it is commonly said, like the leaves of a forest ; among their 
 countless multitudes, no two are precisely alike. Yet some 
 are more widely differentiated from their fellows than others. 
 Among the numerous biographies which have appeared — 
 
 * Fissidens Polyphylltis. 
 
^t. 33.] His Distinct Personality. 159 
 
 among the countless memoirs, monographs, and notices of 
 workers in the busy world-hive — we are inclined to think that 
 Hannington's double has not yet been seen. The acts of 
 his life recorded in the foregoing pages may be sufficient to 
 show that his was a distinct personality compounded of many 
 seemingly incongruous materials. Patience and impatience, 
 impetuous haste and dogged tenacity of perseverance, pride 
 and humility, love of applause and disdain of it, vanity and 
 self-depreciation, nervous sensitiveness and moral courage, 
 self-assertive wilfulness and unselfish thoughtfulness for 
 others and forgetfulness of self — all these paradoxical 
 elements went to make up this man who was a continual 
 puzzle to those who knew him only superficially. 
 
 But all these elements were fused together by his deep 
 earnestness of purpose till they formed, as it were, a compo- 
 site metal, tough, elastic, and enduring, from which, as from 
 a piece of ordnance, the message of his life might be dis- 
 charged with unerring precision and irresistible force. 
 
 The next chapter will be the last which has to do with 
 his home life and work, and in it we will try to make it 
 clear how he was gradually led to the conclusion that he 
 ought to respond in his own proper person to the appeal from 
 the Mission Field for more men. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 THE BECKONING HAND. 
 
 (1878—82.) 
 
 " I heard the voice of the Lord saying, Whom shall I send, and 
 who will go for us ? Then said I, Here am I, send me."— /y. vi. 8. 
 
 " I am not worthy of the Quest."— //^s/)' Grail. 
 
 When Hannington heard, early in the year 1878, of the 
 manner in which the heroic labours of Lieutenant Shergold 
 Smith and Mr. O'Neill had been crowned by their violent 
 death on the shore of the Victoria Nyanza, he was deeply 
 moved. He felt within himself the stirrings of a strong 
 desire to offer to fill the gap which their fall had made 
 in the ranks of the little Central-African Mission Army. 
 That desire slowly ripened and developed into a definite 
 purpose. 
 
 At the commencement of his ministry he knew very 
 little, almost nothing in fact, about foreign mission work. 
 He bent all his energies upon the duty that lay nearest to 
 him, which seemed to be the shepherding of those few sheep 
 in the wilderness who had been constituted his special charge. 
 To the surprise of some of the friends of his boyhood, he 
 seemed to be content with the uneventful life of a hard- 
 working country parson.* Quite gradually his mind was 
 enlarged to take in the wants of a wider sphere. He became 
 more and more consciously aware of dark, perishing millions 
 ''in the regions beyond," among whom moved heroic men, 
 
 * As one of them writes : '• That the Bishop should ever have 
 settled down to the life of a country parson was a thing that often 
 came up in my niind with unformed doubts and fears, though we 
 never discussed the matter.'' 
 
JEt. 34.] Longs to be a Missionary. j6r 
 
 brethren of a new order of knight errantry, the pioneers of 
 the modern Church. 
 
 Now and again he would meet with some friend who 
 would stir up in him an interest in the evangelization of the 
 heathen world, and among the many agencies at work, the 
 great Church A4issionary Society began to take in his mind 
 a foremost place. As early as 1875 he had some conversa- 
 tions at Darley House with Miss Evans and Miss Gell — ■ 
 sister of the Bishop of Madras, and now Mrs. Childe — 
 which left their impression upon him, and caused him to 
 resolve that he would make himself better acquainted with 
 what was being done to carry out the last charge of Christ 
 to His disciples. 
 
 Such entries as the following occur in his diary from time 
 to time : 
 
 *' Dunlop Smith orders me to do more for the C. M. S." 
 
 *'Mrs. VVeitbrecht arrived for the Zenana Society. An 
 exceedingly dear old lady. If all missionaries were as she is 
 it would be good for the cause." 
 
 " Preached on Day of Intercession my first C. M. S. 
 sermon : i Kings xviii. 41.'' 
 
 " Gave to the C. M. S., an Easter gift." 
 
 Then the following : 
 
 " H. G. came to see me, and, to my surprise, told me 
 that he longed to become a Missionary. I told him that [ 
 longed to be one too. Smith and O'Neill's death, and some 
 papers I had read, had set me longing." 
 
 Then — 
 
 '■^ Nov. 2ut, 1881. — C. M. S. meeting at the Dome, 
 Brighton ; Bruce from Persia. Most interesting. Ho,v 
 that man's words went to my heart 1 " 
 
 '■'■Nov. 2()tk. — Went to Eastbourne to a meeting of 
 C. M. S. District Secretaries. Holy Communion 10 a.m. 
 At II a.m. Mr. Lombe addressed the meeting. He is a 
 grand man ; I only wish we had one like him. After lunch, 
 at which I thought myself happy to be near Mr. Lombe, 
 Mr. Eugene Stock spoke. Clear and incisive. If he had 
 
1 62 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 asked me to go out, I should have said, Yes. I longed to 
 offer myself to go." 
 
 " 18S2. Feb.wtli. — Cyril Gordon came to me. I 
 opened to him my heart about offering myself as Mis- 
 sionary. It does not seem to me, however, possible that the 
 C. M. S. would accept me. I am not worthy of the 
 honour." 
 
 Not worthy of the honour, O holy and humble man of 
 heart ! Unworthy of the honour of serving Christ thou 
 mightest indeed have deemed thyself; but there has been 
 no society of men who would not have been honoured in 
 possessing such an agent and servant as thou ! Had the 
 Church A-lissionary Society "despised" thee, as thou didst 
 fear, it would have set its sign and seal for ever to its own 
 fatuity. But not least among signs of its vitality will be 
 recorded the fact that it recognized thy power and admitted 
 thee at once into a foremost place amongst the ranks of its 
 fighting men. 
 
 Not many days after this interview with Mr. Cyril 
 Gordon, Mr, Wigram, the Hon. Secretary of the Society, 
 wrote to Hannington, saying that it had been re- 
 ported to him that he was willing to labour in the foreign 
 Mission-field, and offering to afford him the opportunity he 
 desired. 
 
 This letter brought his thoughts on the subject to a 
 head, and he hesitated no longer. During the past four 
 years the conviction had been steadily deepening within him 
 that his constitutional gifts and aptitudes were such as to 
 qualify him in a special manner for work of toil and danger 
 among a savage race. His large and broad knowledge of 
 men, gained during a life of constant movement and varied 
 travel ; the habit of command which he had acquired quite 
 early in life ; and the influence which he could not help 
 seeing that he readily acquired over rude and untrained 
 natures — all seemed to have been granted to him that he 
 might employ them in some difficult service that would tax 
 his powers to the utmost. 
 
 It was true that his presence was apparently needed at 
 
JEt. 24-] Offers for Central Africa. i6 
 
 J 
 
 home. His work at Hurstpierpoint had be:n crowned with 
 a large measure of success. His friends did not fail to point 
 out to him that a man may serve God as faithfully and 
 efficieatly in an English parish as among heathen tribes in 
 the torrid or arctic zone ; that if every good man went abroad 
 — etc. ! He acknowledged the force of these arguments,* 
 and, moreover, had four strong personal arguments of 
 his own which fought mightily against his projects-even 
 a wife and three little children. He was quite aware, also, 
 that it was possible that his crowded church, large classes, 
 and flourishing societies might not be equally well cared for 
 by a successor ; but, on the other hand, he knew that it 
 would be far easier to obtain the services of an able man 
 for a home parish than to persuade such an one to respond 
 to the Society's appeal, and to give up almost all hope of 
 preferment by burying the best years of his life unknown 
 among the heathen. As he used to say : " There are plenty 
 of men who would be glad enough to take my place here, 
 but there are not many who can make up their minds to 
 sacrifice home and home prospects, and go into the ' dark 
 places of the earth.' Missionaries are not, like other tra- 
 vellers, held in high esteem. They are looked upon as a 
 sort of inferior clergy, and generally live unnoticed and die 
 unrewarded. Few men see much attraction in such a 
 
 * In a sermon preached at the Church of St. Margaret, 
 Brighton, he used the following words : 
 
 "Our little band which is about to set forth needs all your 
 sympathy to encourage them. You may depend upon it that it 
 equires some courage to leave home on an expedition of this sort. 
 I speak from personal experience. When all men are against one, 
 saying that one is making a mistake, that he is utterly wrong, that 
 he is running away from the work which God has given him to do, 
 and is seeking other work for himself, no small courage is needed 
 to go forth. But 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 fo" 
 
164 James Hannington. [A.D. 18S2. 
 
 career. When tlie C. M, S. appealed for more men, I 
 seemed to hear the Master asking, ' Who will go ? ' and I 
 said, ' Lord, send me.' " 
 
 In reply to Mr. Wigram's letter, Hannington wrote : 
 
 " HuRSTPiERPoiNT, Feb. xbtJi^ 1882. 
 
 " Dear Sir, — Many thanks for your kind letter. I 
 shall, if nothing prevent, be passing through London Tues- 
 day next, on my way to hold a Mission. A-Iay I call upon 
 you then ? 
 
 " I am, in consequence of this, and also having to pre- 
 pare for a Mission here immediately after, so busy that I 
 cannot well write at the length such a vastly important 
 subject demands. I am thirty-four. Offered myself only 
 pro tcin.i because married. For Nyanza, because I under- 
 stand that it must necessarily be p7-o tem.^^ and because I 
 believe I have a fair amount of experience and, thus far in 
 life, endurance and nerve likely to be useful for such a field. 
 I append a few names of my more immediate friends for 
 reference," (Then follows a list.) "I can give several 
 .more if required, I should, however, greatly prefer that 
 none of these were written to until I have had a personal 
 interview with you. Tor this reason : I have not announced 
 the matter, because I do not want people's minds unsettled, 
 should it fall through from other causes. God forbid I 
 should boast, but I venture to believe that the Committee 
 will be satisfied with the character my friends will give me. 
 I only wish I were more deserving of their kind esteem, 
 
 " I am almost weighed down with the great responsi- 
 bility of my offering myself; but I pray, ' Lord, send me 
 
 * The following extract from a letter to Mr. Cyril Gordon will 
 explain this : 
 
 '■ I volunteer to help in the expedition for Uganda for the fol- 
 lowing reasons: It is a place where I believe the general experience 
 I have had would be useful, and where I understand Europeans 
 cannot stop very long ; and I do not see my way clear to offer 
 myself for a long term. Say from three to five years." 
 
jEt. 34.] Letter to the C. M. S. Coininittee. 165 
 
 there, or keep me here ; only let me be useful ; ' and 1 
 cannot but believe that we shall be rightly guided. 
 " I am, dear sir, yours truly, 
 
 "James Hannington. 
 
 " Will you kindly let me know if Tuesday will suit, and 
 the time? I should prefer morning, as I am going to Not- 
 tingham (d.v.).'-' 
 
 Whatever mny have been Hannington 's faults, he was 
 not one of those v/ho, when they see their duty clearly, still 
 " linger with vacillating obedience." 
 
 On Feb. 21st the diary takes up the thread of the 
 narrative : 
 
 "Made my will, and proceeded to Oak Hill House, 
 Hampstead, where Mr. Wigrani lives, and, after dinner, 
 had a long discussion about my going out as a Missionary. 
 Wigram gave me a most tremendous sounding on all points 
 of the faith. 
 
 " 2%nd. — Went to Salisbury Square, and was interviewed 
 by Lang. Dined at the College. G. Chapman came up. 
 'Are you offering yourself for Africa.? ' to which I had to 
 make an evasive answer. Interviewed Mr. F. F. Goe. 
 
 " 2yd. — Interview with Earlow * I am prayintr that 
 the Medical Board may be directed rightly concerning me. 
 I went to see them, expecting tremendous criticism, but, 
 rather to my disgust, they only asked one or two questions, 
 and turned round and said, ' You are fit to go anywhere.' " 
 
 After these preliminaries, Hannington wrote to the 
 Committee from Southwell, where he had gone to see his 
 friend, the Rev. A. C. Garbett. 
 
 "Southwell, Feb. lyd^ 1882. 
 "Gentlemen, — In answer to your appeal for men, I 
 place myself at your disposal for the Nyanza work for a period 
 of not more than five years, on the condition that you will 
 
 * Principal of the C. M. S. College at Islington. 
 
i66 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 undertake to supply my place at St. George's Chapel, 
 Hurstpierpoint. 
 
 " Though I offer to serve you on these conditions most 
 freely and to the best of the pcwer given me, yet i 
 would earnestly beg you not to accept my services unless 
 you feel that you have urgent need oi them. 
 
 '"■ Should you ask me to go out, I shall be able to have 
 j/,'25 quarterly paid to your IVeasurer to help to defray my 
 expenses. I shall also be able to pay ,,^50 towards my outfit. 
 
 " With humble prayer that your minds may be rightly 
 guided, 
 
 " I remain, your obedient servant, 
 
 "James Hannin'gton'." 
 
 St. George's Chapel was now Hannington's own pro- 
 perty, but had been left to him by his father wholly 
 unendowed. His own private income was not large 
 enough to allow him to provide an adequate stipend for 
 a Curate-in-Charge ; he, therefore, proposed to the Society 
 that they should supply the duty by means of missionaries 
 who had either retired from the field, or who were at home 
 on prolonged leave, while he served abroad. During the 
 five years which he purposed to spend in Mission work, he 
 offered himself to the Committee without other stipend than 
 the payment of his travelling expenses, tov/ards which he 
 was to contribute a hundred pounds yearly. 
 
 Had he not felt bound to consider the needs of those 
 who were dependent upon him, and to whom his means 
 belonged as well as to himself, he would gladly have poured 
 all he had into the treasury, and have gone forth as a simple 
 evangelist to the nations which '" lie in darkness and in the 
 i-hadow of death." On the 6th of Rlarch Hannington again 
 visited the C. M. College. He describes the evening thus : — 
 
 " Prayer, 5.45. Tea at 6. Dormitory meeting, 8.30. 
 Prayer, 9.30. Bed, 10. The whole atmosphere of the 
 College strikes me as very holy." 
 
 '■^ Mar. 7//^.— Walked with Barlow to Salisbury Square, 
 12 o'clock. Went in to see the Committee, who accepted 
 my offer, and said they urgently needed my services^ aaid 
 
^Et. 34.] The U-Ganda Mission. 167 
 
 were otherwise most complimentary. Canon Money offered 
 prayer, and I learnt more news in the prayer than 1 had any 
 idea of. I gathered that I was to be the leader of the 
 party. 
 
 " I returned home, and broke the news to my wife. 
 She was more than brave about it, and gave nie to the Lord. 
 I had asked her often before, and she had said she would let 
 me go. I had not mentioned my offer before, because she 
 was all alone, and I thought the suspense would be more 
 than she could bear. I also told the Neves, but nobody 
 else, as we have a Mission coming on." 
 
 The Committee of the Church Missionary Society was 
 about to send a fresh party to Central Africa to reinforce 
 the brave two* who held the ground at Rubaga, that latest 
 city of martyrs, by the mystic source of the Nile. 
 
 King Mtesa was then alive ; he whose bright, intelli- 
 gent, though fitful nature, had so attracted Speke when he 
 visited his Court in i86r, and whose qualities made so deep 
 an impression upon Stanley that he wrote, in 1875, a letter 
 to the Daily Telegraph., in which he " challenged Christen- 
 dom to send Missionaries to U-Ganda." 
 
 After the manner of African monarchs, Mtesa did not 
 make things so easy for the missionary band as his warm 
 invitation had seemed to promise. At first he appeared to 
 lend a ready car to Christian instruction, but his mind was 
 more occupied with the temporal advantages to be derived 
 from contact with Europeans than with their creed. The 
 Arab traders also at his Court, here as everywhere else, 
 did all in their power to poison his mind agiinst the white 
 men. These Arabs are well aware that their miserable 
 traffic in human flesh cannot long prosper where the influ- 
 ence of Englishmen is allowed to prevail. Thev, therefore^ 
 thwart and hinder the European in every conceivable 
 manner, and use all their influence with King and chiefs 
 to make his stay in the country impossible. Every traveller, 
 whether missionary, explorer, or man of science, who has 
 
 * Mr. A. M. Mackay, C.E., and the Rev. P. O'Flaherly. 
 
1 68 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 attempted to stop for any length of time with a Central 
 African Prince, has felt the malign power and suffered from 
 the treachery of these slave-trading vampires. Before the 
 coming of the Christians, these Arabs had persuaded Mtesa 
 to profess himself a Mahommedan. They now intrigued 
 without intermission to turn him aside from his apparent in- 
 clination to study and adopt the teaching of Christianity. 
 
 To add to the ordinary difficulties of implanting the 
 Christian Faith in the soil of savage hearts, the Roman 
 C^.tholic Church now thought fit to interfere. We do not 
 wish to speak with bitterness of their conduct; but, with 
 almost the whole of the Dark Continent before them, it was 
 surely a gratuitous piece of vexatious harassment that they 
 should send a band of priests for the express purpose of dis- 
 puting with the English Churchmen the ground which they 
 had already occupied for two years,* and where they were, 
 at last, after most painful effort, beginning to reap what 
 they had sown and watered with their own blood and tears. 
 
 These French priests of the Roman Church, coming 
 by way of Zanzibar, and crossing the Lake from Kagei, 
 arrived at U-Ganda in 1879, and took up their abode ar 
 Rubaga. They were not content merely to establish a 
 Mission there, but at once informed Mtesa that he had been 
 deluded and mistaught by the Protestants. The poor King 
 was, as may be supposed, reduced to the extremity of per- 
 plexity. He would say ; " How can I know whom to 
 believe t I am first taught by the Arabs that there is One 
 God. The English come to tell me that there are tivo^ and 
 now I am to learn that there are three ! " (God, Christ, and 
 the Virgin.) 
 
 Messrs. Wilson, Felkin, and Pearson were then in 
 U-Ganda, and they persuaded the King to allow them to 
 return by way of the Soudan, taking with them some chiefs, 
 who might be presented to the " Queeny," Her Majesty 
 Queen Victoria, and bring back to their people tidings of 
 what they saw in Europe. Mr. Pearson was left behind, 
 and, together with Mr. Mackay, set up a small printing 
 
 " Since 1S77. 
 
JEt. 34.] T/ie U- Cauda Missio7t. 169 
 
 press, and taught the people to read. They showed quite 
 an enthusiastic readiness to acquire this new accomplish- 
 ment, and scholars might soon be seen everywhere poring 
 over tablets with alphabets, sentences, and portions of 
 Scripture. These were not given gratis, but were eagerly 
 bought by the lads and others. So the work went on, with 
 sundry ups and downs — -the ups being the result of the 
 general goodwill of the people, the downs that of Arab 
 intrigues and Roman misrepresentations — but, on the whole, 
 progressed. In the spring of 1881 the envoys who had 
 been sent to England returned with Mr. Felkin * and the 
 Rev. P. O'Flaherty.t Leaving Mr. Felkin at Zanzibar, Mr. 
 O'Flaherty proceeded to Rubaga, where he remained with 
 Mr. Mackay, and the work of the Church went forward 
 apace. The two missionaries " described themselves as 
 builders, carpenters, smiths, wheelwrights, sanitary engineers, 
 farmers, gardeners, printers, surgeons, and physicians." 
 They were, in the usefullest sense, "All things to all men." 
 They went on transcribing the Bible, Prayer Book, and 
 Hymns into Lu-Ganda at a great rate, and found that the 
 demand for their printed slips was even greater than they 
 could supply. 
 
 On March 18th, at the very time when it had been 
 finally decided by the Home Committee to send out Han- 
 nington and his party to their reinforcement, they were 
 reaping the first considerable fruits of their labour. Five 
 converts were admitted into the Church by baptism. The 
 first five of a church which two years later, at the end of 
 1884, consisted of eighty-eight native members. In few 
 Mission stations of modern times have so many hardships, 
 repulses, and perils, with savage persecution, had to be en- 
 dured ; but in few have the results been more rapid, or the 
 conversions of a more solid and abiding character. The 
 history of the Central African Mission, when it is published, 
 will prove to be (whether a permanent Church be established 
 
 * Now Dr. Felkin of Edinburgh. 
 
 t Mr O'Flaherty died on July 21st, 1886, in the Red Sea, as 
 he was returning home. 
 
i-o James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 in U-Ganda or not) the romance of modern missions. This 
 hook contains an account of Bishop Hannington and his 
 connection with the Mission rather than of the Amission 
 itself, but we shall, in the course of our narrative, be called 
 upon to show how some of these young native Christians 
 have already stood that most awful and bitter test of 
 sincerity, from the very contemplation of which we shrink 
 with shuddering dread and pity, and have confessed to their 
 trust in Christ even in the flames. 
 
 The new party was to consist of six men — the Rev. R. 
 P.Ashe, B.A., St. John's College, Cambridge; three of 
 the Islington College Students (the Revs. J. Blackburn, Cyril 
 Gordon, and W. J. Edmonds) ; and also Mr. C. Wise, an 
 artisan. Hannington was entrusted with the leadership of 
 the expedition. They were to endeavour to reach U-Ganda 
 from Zanzibar by the old route, viu Mamboia, Uyui, and 
 Msalala, and from thence by boat across the Victoria Nyanza 
 to Rubaga. 
 
 When all iiad been finally arranged, and the time for his 
 departure settled, Hannington made known his determina- 
 tion to his congregation at Hurst. 
 
 On A'Tarch 26th he announced that he would explain 
 his step, and state the reasons which had led to it, at the 
 evening service. The chapel was thronged. Many wept 
 alo-ud ; the people would hardly let him go. Some could 
 not be made to understand that he ought to go. They had 
 learnt to look upon him as their own. He seemed to them 
 to be defrauding them of their right in him in thus taking 
 himself away. 
 
 However, there was no appeal. He could not now be 
 detained, so they determined that they would do their best 
 to encourage him, and send him forth in a manner that 
 befitted their own pastor. They were not rich, but they 
 did what they could, and, among other suitable gifts, sub- 
 scribed £%^ toward his outfit. 
 
 As the public mind was at that time directed toward 
 U-Ganda by Messrs. Wilson and Felkin's book, which had 
 been very favourably reviewed in the Tivics^ Hannington 
 took advantage of the fact to appeal in the columns of that 
 
^t. 34.] Farewell Sermon at Hurst. 171 
 
 paper for subscriptions to enable him to carry with him a 
 new boat with which to navigate the Victoria Nyanza in 
 place of the Daisy., which had been wrecked. This appeal 
 was well responded to, and he was able to take out in 
 sections a good boat, which has since proved of much 
 service to the Mission band.* 
 
 On May i6th a V.iledictory Dismissal v/as held in St. 
 James's Hall, Paddington. Eleven Missionaries were com- 
 mitted to the care of the Lord of the whole earth, and sent 
 forth into the regions beyond. Hannington writes : " I, of 
 course, had to speak when my -turn came, but I scarcely 
 know what I said." That same evening he returned to 
 Eurst, and preached in the parish church to a great congre- 
 gation. All who could cram into the building were there. 
 
 One of his friends writes : " It was with a keen sense 
 of severe personal loss that we heard that he had definitely 
 made up his mind to go out to Central Africa. I well 
 remember that part of the day when he preached his final 
 sermon at Hurst. We travelled down together from town 
 to Hassock's Gate, He gave me a long letter to read 
 which had been sent home by one of the missionaries from 
 Mtesa's country. All the way down he had been preparing 
 the farewell sermon which he was to deliver that evening in 
 the parish church. It was one of the most earnest and 
 effective addresses to which I have ever listened, and evoked 
 a thrill of emotion through the whole of the densely- 
 crowded audience. The text was I Sam. xxx, 24, '•As Jiis 
 share is that goeth dozvn to the battle, so shall his share be 
 that tarrieth by the stuff; they sliall share alike.' With 
 characteristic humility he spoke of the time when he first 
 came among them, hot-headed and inexperienced ; told us 
 things against himself, which he never laid to the charge of 
 others, and said how kindly they had all borne with him. 
 And he added words which must now dwell in many 
 memories : that if it should be that he lost his life in Africa, 
 no man was to think that his life had been wasted. As for 
 the lives which had been already given for this cause, they 
 
 * Hannington himself subscribed ^25 toward this boat. 
 
172 James Hannington. [A.D. i8Sz. 
 
 were not lost, but were filling up the trench so that others 
 might the more easily pass over to take the fort in the name 
 of the Lord." 
 
 After the sermon he found a great crowd waiting outside 
 the church to receive him, and his hand was wrung by 
 friends and acquaintances who formed one continuous double 
 line all the way to his own house. He did not get away from 
 their embraces until past midnight. Early the same morn- 
 ing — for he saw the last of his friends at 12.30 a.m. — 
 he left for the docks ; but as the diary here becomes more 
 circumstantial, we may continue the narrative in his ovvji 
 words. 
 
 '■'■May i^th. — Up at 5 a.m., though I had everything 
 well prepared. Ah, what a heavy heart I had. I longed 
 now to be away, for the worst was yet to come. The 
 pound of flesh, blood and all, must be cut away. First, my 
 dear mother-in-law, not the mother of my youth, but of my 
 manhood, loved with a man's affection. She remained in 
 her own room, and was the first of the home circle to receive 
 the stab. How brave she was ; and she, of all, feels that 
 she has least chance of seeing me again. We parted calmly. 
 Next my boy, Tom Lewry, who has served me so lovingly 
 — he wished to say good-bye to me alone ; and then, pas- 
 sionately flinging his arms around my neck, implored me 
 not to leave him. Next was the meeting at family prayers ; 
 how I got through it I do not know. Then dear iVIr. Boxall 
 came, so faithful, so silent. Good-bye to him meant all 
 that it could possibly convey. Now came, of all my affec- 
 tionate friends, H. _B. For a month I had seen him nearly 
 every day, and every time, I think, without exception, he 
 has burst into tears about my going, and has offered to work 
 his passage to Zanzibar if I would let him follow me. Now 
 my most bitter trial — an agony that still cleaves to me — 
 saying good-bye to the little ones. Thank God that all the 
 pain was on one side. Over and over again I thank Him 
 for that. ' Come back soon, papa ! ' they cried. Then the 
 servants, all attached to me. My wife, the bravest of 
 all 
 
 " I was about to jump into my brother's carriao-e. The 
 
^t. 34-] Farezvelis. 1-3 
 
 publican's son (I was always thought to be the publican's 
 enemy) crept up, and thrust a letter into my hand, a pretty 
 book-marker, and a text, and a letter written by his mother. 
 The thing that broke me down was passing a building. The 
 roughest of the rough men, who I thought would have had 
 a holiday to rejoice at my departure, left work, and crowded 
 round to express their sorrow as best they could ; several 
 were at the train on the platform. Then came two hours 
 quiet, but quiet just then to me was terrible. I rushed to 
 Salisbury Square to see if there were any parting message, 
 and was well rewarded by Wigram saying: 'I felt certain 
 that you would find time to look in once more ; you are 
 ubiquitous.' How the Lord helped me. Surely if I wanted 
 a parting sign to hasten me forward, it was to be found in 
 the great support He gave me. I had thought that preach- 
 ing in a crowded church, people blocking my way along the 
 road and clinging around me, four hours sleep, and such a 
 leave-takitig, would have given me a severe headache and 
 feeling of lassitude. I was, however, entirely free from any 
 bodily pain or weariness, and I had not experienced such 
 freshness for a month. The fountain of my tears seemed 
 held back. I have not said that dearest Sam, the best of 
 brothers, came with me to Salisbury Square. He had been 
 skirmishing about, putting continual extra touches to my 
 already comfortable kit. Now, from Liverpool Street to 
 the docks, he began emptying his pockets of money and 
 forcing little articles of comfort upon me. Then there was 
 the bustle of the ship, and the saying good-bye on the part 
 of others to their relations, for only mine were allowed to 
 go as far as Gravesend. Then came the final farewell to 
 my brother. ... I watched and watched and watched 
 the retreating tow-boat, until I could see it no longer, and 
 then hurried down below. Indeed, I felt for the moment 
 as one paralyzed. . . . Now was the time for re-action ! 
 No. ' Casting all your care upon Him.' ... I went 
 below, and set my cabin in order for sea, arranged about 
 prayers, etc., and the rest of the day passed so rapidly that, 
 when night came, I scarcely knew it was gone. ' My God, 
 how tender Thou art 1 ' " 
 
PART TI. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE FIRST MISSIONARY JOURNEY. ZANZIBAR TO 
 MPWAPWA. 
 
 (1882.) 
 
 " So in life ; if some wifeling or childling be granted you, well 
 and good ; but if the Captain call, run to the Ship, and leave such 
 possessions behind you, not looking back." 
 
 EpiCTETUS. — FarRAR {Seekers after God). 
 
 As Hannington's journal from this date onward is written 
 much more fully and consecutively, and is, moreover, 
 supplemented by long letters to the Church Missionary 
 Society, we shall be able to continue the narrative to a great 
 extent in his own words. He writes : 
 
 " I must leave the farewells. I have not sufficient cold 
 blood in my veins to make red ink enough to write them. 
 
 "On JVIay the lyth^ 1882, at about noon, I found 
 myself on board the s.s. Qiietta, a fine Clyde-built ship 
 of 3200 tons, and began to make inquiries about our 
 party. Mr. Ashe was on board, but nobody seemed to 
 know anything about the others. The authorities were 
 in a great state of perturbation, as time and tide wait for no 
 man. I could not help feeling a little nervous when I 
 heard that we were to start for Gravesend without them, 
 and leave a tug in which they might, if possible, overtake 
 us. To my great relief they came steaming up behind us 
 about an hour later." In a letter to the children he adds, 
 " But didn't they catch it from one Captain Brown . who 
 
1 76 James Hanniiigton. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 was sent to look after them ! Brown ! They say he was 
 blacky and his tongue the same colour. And, poor things, 
 it was not their fault at all. There had been an accident on 
 the railway." He continues : 
 
 "My companions were the Rev. R. P. Ashe, W. J. 
 Edmonds, J. Blackburn, and E. C. Gordon, with Mr. C. 
 Wise, an artisan. I had also on the ticket the names of 
 Mr. and Adrs. H. W. Lane, who were bound for Mom- 
 basa, and Miss , a bride who was to meet her bride- 
 groom at Zanzibar. The latter was placed specially under 
 my charge, but I am afraid that the principal way in which 
 I fulfilled my task was by teasing her unmercifully about the 
 bride-cake, which I unfortunately discovered to be onboard. 
 
 " We had not many fellow passengers on board the 
 Qiictta. And of these the majority were going to the 
 mission field. Ten L. M. S. men for Lake Tanganyika, 
 all dissenters of different shades of opinion, though chiefly 
 Congregationalists. There was also a Major Smith, Sec- 
 letary of the Wesleyan M. S., travelling for his health, 
 and, lastly, a Miss Angus, of the Baptist Zenana Society. 
 We thus had many persuasions represented ; and — will you 
 believe it? — we all dwelt together and parted in peace and 
 friendship. 
 
 " On the first night I went to the captain, and made 
 a request for public prayers, which was at once granted. 
 
 " Our first morning we held a C. M. S. Council, and 
 have mapped out our day as follov/s : I'rivate devotions 
 before breakfast. Prayer. Then Wise is to read with 
 Ashe. Edmonds, Gordon, and Blackburn take the boys, 
 and I help Lane. The rest of the morning is spent in 
 studying Swahili.* After lunch we have a meeting for 
 reading and prayer, and the rest of the day is to be improved 
 as we best may be able. 
 
 " We have a little pleasant banter with the L. M. S. 
 men. Their expedition is fitted out so much more expen- 
 sively than ours. They eclipse us in every point. We 
 
 * The language of the coast, and widely known in the interior, 
 through intercourse with the traders. 
 
^t. 34-] On the Way Out. i-j-j 
 
 have to glory in the fact that so much less money has been 
 expended on us, when we would have been permitted to 
 have had more, had we desired it. I feel sure we have 
 enough.* Only may the Spirit of God go with us every 
 step of the way. 
 
 "The only cloud that hangs over us at present is the 
 unpleasant suggestion that we may not reach Aden in time 
 to carry on our cargo. The poor bride is in despair, as the 
 bridal outfit is in the hold ! " 
 
 Hannington wrote his first letter to the Secretary of the 
 C. M. S. from the Mediterranean, and says: " Give me as 
 much advice as possible, and do not ever hesitate to point 
 out my faults and shortcomings ; in so doing, you will be 
 more than ever my friend. Do not expect too much of 
 me. It may be that my share of the work is already done. 
 T think most highly of Ashe ; f should I fail, you will be 
 better represented. God be praised for raising him up to 
 come among us." 
 
 Hannington was always ready to express a generous 
 appreciation of the merits of others. In his letter to the 
 Secretary, he has a special word of commendation for each 
 of his companions, and adds with regard to himself, " There 
 is only one wretch among the six, and if he is taken away 
 it will be no great loss." 
 
 At Aden the whole party for Central Africa were trans- 
 ported into " a dirty old vessel called the Mecca ; dirty is 
 not a strong enough word, so I must use filthy. She 
 swarmed with cockroaches, black ants and bugs, and was, 
 moreover, dreadfully overcrowded." The vessel was only 
 I2O0 tons, or less than half the size of the Qiietta, and was 
 packed with passengers. The food, accommodation, and 
 management all seem to have rivalled each other in badness. 
 They soon fell in with rough weather and heavy seas, 
 
 * As it turned out, they had not ; and many of their sufferings 
 were due to want of a few extras. 
 
 t Mr. Ashe was afterwards stationed in U-Ganda, where he has 
 gone through the troublous times which followed the death of 
 Mtdsa. 
 
 12 
 
1/8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 which rendered their position, uncomfortable before, now 
 almost intolerable. Hannington, old sailor as he was, was 
 prostrated with sea-sickness. He says : " I was washed 
 down to leeward twice, and was wet for three days, without 
 any opportunity of changing." 
 
 It was in a shattered and dilapidated condition that 
 they made out the Island of Zanzibar, on June igth, and 
 steamed into the calmer waters of the sheltered roadstead. 
 
 Soon, he says, "Mr. Stokes, our travelling com- 
 panion, came on board, and gave us a hearty welcome. He 
 is to take charge of our caravan. And now about Zanzi- 
 bar. I had been prepared to find a disgusting place, full of 
 half-starved slaves and beggars, but was never more agree- 
 ;.bly surprised in my life. I do not think that T was asked 
 for anything more than once. The streets are narrow, 
 crooked, weird, and some of them dirty, but not half so 
 bad as I had been led to expect. Not worse, I should say, 
 than Genoa, ' the beautiful.' The many quaint sights more 
 than atoned for the "iz-w disagreeables. Outside the town, 
 the tropical vegetation, often standing out, on a gentle slope, 
 against the clear, blue sky, or backed by the deeper blue of 
 the sea, presented wonderful pictures of green freshness." 
 
 Hannington savs? a good deal of the members of the 
 Universities' Mission, by whom he was most kindly 
 received and welcomed. He says : " I preached in the 
 Cathedral on Sunday evening, as a slight return for the 
 many kindnesses which the Universities' Mission have 
 shown us. They had a special Communion for our party 
 in the mornins:." 
 
 The short time spent at Zanzibar was very busily occu- 
 pied in packing and pre])aring for the journey. Although 
 Mr. Stokes had relieved Hannington of much of the trouble 
 of collecting porters and goods for the interior, yet the 
 Mission stores which he had brought from England had to 
 be made up into suitable loads of fifty-five or s'ixty pounds, 
 and all had to be inventoried and weighed to prevent 
 the bearers from stealing the contents of their packs. 
 The African traveller has still to go about, carrying 
 
JEt. 34.] -Ai Zanzibar. 179 
 
 with him a miscellaneous assortment ot articles, more 
 or less bulky, with which to purchase food, pay tribute, 
 hire extra assistance, etc., etc. It will be indeed a blessing 
 and an economy of labour when the rupee has found its way 
 into circulation among the tribes of the interior. 
 
 The Zanzibar! are notorious for their dilatory habits and 
 lethargic indifference to the hurrying of the traveller im- 
 patient to be gone. They made no exception to their rule 
 for Hannington's benefit. He writes : 
 
 " This is the style or thing. At 6 a.m. you want a 
 package sewn up in canvas. A man promises to send for a 
 Hindu at once. You u'ait patiently for half an hour, then 
 you think that you had better go and see, and you find that 
 he did not realize that you wanted him so quickly ; however, 
 he will now send at once. In fact, you see the messenger 
 start. About an hour later he enters the yard, and you jump 
 up. He, on the contrary, sits down very complacently, and 
 wonders why you bounded up so energetically. You 
 explain what you want. He still sits and looks first at you, 
 then at your package, and measures both accurately with his 
 intelligent eye. By-and-by he actually rises and measures 
 the package, this time with tape. Then he once more 
 squats and chews betel nut with an activity that vou wish 
 he would apply to your job ; and then, in about a quarter of 
 an hour, he departs to get his needle and thread, promising 
 to return instantly. It is now about 9.30, and you are 
 summoned to breakfast, for which you are quite ready. On 
 your arrival upstairs you find that nobody else has come, so 
 you drop into the empty arm-chair, and wait with the best 
 patience you may have. In an hour's time the party has 
 assembled, expressed its various apologies, and in another 
 hour has finished its breakfast. On your arrival in the 
 5'ard, you find the Hindu has arrived, but has quietly waited 
 for you to tell him where to begin. So, having stated your 
 opinion at length with great pains and with many signs, you 
 are pleased to find that he pooh-poohs your notions, and 
 prefers his own way; at the same time he reminds you that 
 it is now noon, the hour that he dines, and that he will 
 
igo James Hanningion. [A..D. iE8?. 
 
 return afterwards. I p.m., lunch time. At 2 o'clock you 
 return, package progressing, but just at that moment a 
 messenger enters the yard; the Hindu is especially wanted 
 for a short time. It 'is quite 3.30 before that package is 
 finished. Thus, and sometimes worse than thus— did we 
 have to battle our way, bale by bale, through an immense 
 amount of packing." 
 
 Before he started for the interior, Hannington sought 
 an interview with the Sultan, Seyyid Barghash. He 
 had been told that the Sultan was becoming alarmed 
 at the large number of European missionaries who. 
 passed through Zanzibar, but however this may have 
 been, he was received very warmly and with distinguished 
 courtesy. 
 
 Dressed in full academicals — scarlet hood and Master's 
 gown — and escorted by the pro-Consul, Col. Miles, he 
 made his way to the palace. There a guard of honour was 
 drawn up, and the Sultan came down into the square with 
 much state, and greeted the young English clergyman. He 
 then led the way up those steep stairs, which Mr. Johnston 
 has so graphically described, into his reception room. After 
 all were seated, and glass cups of coffee and sherbet served, 
 the Sultan engaged Hannington in conversation as to his 
 journey and its object. He writes: "After about half an 
 hour the Consul said we must be going, otherwise I think 
 that His Highness would gladly have prolonged the inter- 
 view. Conversation never flagged for a moment, although, 
 as far as I was concerned, it was carried on through an 
 interpreter. When we left, he rose, led the way into the 
 square, and, shaking hands, wished us good-bye. He was 
 very interested in our expedition. His credulity is surpris- 
 ing. He firmly believes in a gigantic snake in U-Gogo, 
 which is reputed to reach to the sky, and to devour oxen 
 and women and children whole ! " 
 
 Hannington made rapid progress with his study of the 
 Swahili language. He says : '^ I have this mornnig com- 
 menced daily pra^fers in Swahili. Henry Wright Duta the 
 baptized Waganda boy attached to me, read them. The 
 
^L 34] The Start. i8[ 
 
 study which I gave the language on board has been of 
 immense help to me. Let every missionary be urged to 
 stick close to the language he has to learn on his journey out, 
 in spite of all obstacles." 
 
 When all was ready for the start, Mr. Stokes first crossed 
 to Saadani * with the greater part of the caravan, and on the 
 next day, June 27th, the missionaries followed. Hannington 
 says : 
 
 " I went round to Mackenzie's and was greeted with 
 ' You can't go to-day.' ' Why not ? ' ' Fifteen men have 
 run away, and they must be looked after.' However, on 
 looking over Stokes' letter I could not see that he said they 
 were to be hunted up, and so I replied that we should start 
 at once. Then I found where the difficulty arose. Raschid, 
 who had brought the letter, wanted a day on his own 
 account, which I soon informed him he could not have. I 
 ordered a dhow for noon, and by intense energy, actually got 
 everything ready by 1.30. 
 
 '■' I am not going to describe that dhow. It was as bad 
 as most other dhows, and we were packed so closely that if 
 one fell there he had to lie. When we arrived off Saadani 
 we found that the tide was high and that the shore could not 
 be approached nearer than half a mile. The sea was pretty 
 rough, and as we grounded we bumped so furiously that 1 
 expected the poor old dhow would have gone to pieces. 
 Stokes plunged through the breakers from the shore and 
 brought out a small dug-out canoe which was^ at best, a 
 quarter full of water. 1 preferred a swimming to a foot- 
 bath, and so, stripping off my clothes, and putting them into 
 a bag, unmindful of sharks, I waded and stumbled over the 
 half mile of sharp coral which lay between our vessel and 
 the beach. In due time, after repeated voyages by the 
 canoe, we all got safely ashore, and found our tents pitched, 
 and a tougri go<it, that unfailing accompaniment of an African 
 meal, awaiting us." 
 
 * The channel between Zanzibar and the mainland is about 
 thirty miles. 
 
i82 James Hanniugton. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 The next day was spent in getting the men into their 
 places and organizing generally. On the following morning 
 at sunrise the long line of porters wended its way along the 
 narrow track which led toward the inferior. At first their 
 (vay lay through country which, but for the tropical nature 
 of the vegetation, would have reminded the new comers of 
 a path through an English wood ; then through long grass, 
 thickly strewn with mimosa trees, till they reached their first 
 camp at Ndumi. The porters were^as usual, while desertion 
 to the coast was still easy, very troublesome^ and occasioned 
 the most vexatious delays by their insubordination and slug- 
 gishness. They made the first night or two hideous with 
 their cries and songs, and tried to get the rest out of which 
 they had thus defrauded themselves during the following 
 working day. Mr. Stokes' long experience in dealing with 
 the natives here proved invaluable, and matters mended after 
 a bit. 
 
 At Ndumi they had their first experience of the horrors 
 of an African well. ^' You might cut the water with a 
 knife. An English cow or an Irish sow would have turned 
 from it. However, it boiled well, and added body to our 
 tea ! " Writing to his children he says : " I had seen 'green 
 tea,' but never before green cofi:"ee. I soon grew tired of 
 grumbling because the men would bathe in our drinking 
 water, but I did not like to find there dead toads and other 
 animal and vegetable putrefaction. Afterwards, when weak 
 and ill, I used to avoid drinking any liquid. I have been 
 three and even four days at a stretch without drinking any- 
 thing at all." 
 
 On Sunday the caravan rested at a camp called Alkangij 
 " a beautiful spot where we greatly enjoyed our quiet Ser- 
 vices. We also had two Kiswahili Services for the bovs, 
 and at the close of the day felt much refreshed, and ready to 
 proceed with our journey." 
 
 On the 8th of July they reached the river Buzini. 
 " Loud had been the warnings of Stokes that we should not 
 wade through the stream lest we should take fever. One 
 man, at least, had nearly died here from his imprudence in 
 this respect. In consequence of this we were all full of 
 
yEt. 34] ^ Forest Fire. 183 
 
 caution. When I arrived I was very hot, and should not, 
 under any circumstances, have thought of entering the 
 water until I was somewhat cooler. The headmen had not 
 yet come up, and I was waiting for them, when my boys 
 volunteered to carry me across. This was a task clearly 
 beyond their powers ; but the ambitious Johar was not to be 
 denied. He seized me and bore me oi^'in triumph. When 
 we got into the water I felt an ominous totter and told him 
 to return. But I entreated in vain ; he paid no heed. 
 More staggering about, and entreaties, but all to no purpose, 
 on he pressed. Swaying to and fro like a bullrush in a gale 
 of windj I clenched my teeth and held my breath, 'i hey 
 shouted from the bank for Johar to return, but it had not 
 the slightest eflect ; he felt that his only chance now was to 
 dash right on. We were now in mid-stream, and my hopes 
 
 revived. I thought, perhaps . But the water grew 
 
 deeper^ the rocks at the bottom became more slippery, the 
 stream grew stronger. A frantic struggle, and down we 
 went flat, Johar collapsing like an indiarubbcr ball punctured 
 by a pin. Far better would it have been for me had 1 
 walked through, for then I should have been wet merely to 
 the knees, whereas now I was soaked from head to foot. 
 Happily I did not get fever, though I had some symptoms 
 of it shortly after." 
 
 The followijig day gave them a taste cf the kind of 
 adventures for which they must prepare in Africa. It was 
 Sunday, and they were resting after the services of the day, 
 when Hannington, who was busy with some sick folk, 
 noticed smoke, and soon saw that the high grass around the 
 camp was in a blaze. Not a moment was to be lost. The 
 grass was as dry as tinder and the encampment was in the 
 utmost danger. All hands were called up, some were set to 
 work to beat down the flames, while others struck the tents 
 and took the baggage to a place of safety. " It was splendid 
 to see the flames and to hear the crackling of leaves and 
 grass, and the shouting and screaming of the excited men." 
 After some trouble the fire was beaten out and the men 
 returned to camp to rest themselves after their exertions, or 
 ieemed to do so, but in reality they nurtured quite other 
 
iS4 James Hanningion. [A.D. 1S82. 
 
 designs. They had discovered that the grass had been 
 mahciously fired by the inhabitants of a neighbouring village. 
 So each man quietly got possession ot his weapon — gun, 
 spear, or bow and arrows — and stole away to take vengeance 
 and burn that village to the ground ! 
 
 A whisper of this reached Mr. Stokes' ears, and at once 
 " he ran ofF as if he were shot, crying out excitedly in the 
 strongest Irish brogue, ' Write it down in ye diaries, 
 gintlemin ; me min have gone to burrn the village, and I 
 can't stop thim.' I did not wait," says Hannington, " to 
 get out my notebook to jot this down at the time, but tore 
 after him as fast as I could, and we, with the assistance of 
 the headmen, many of whom are chiefs, succeeded in 
 stopping them. Only one man had been wounded with a 
 war club in the head. I took him back to my own tent and 
 bound up his head, and, better still, gave him a dollar. So 
 all was over for that time. Congratulating ourselves that all 
 had ended so well, we sat down to dinner. But we had 
 more in store for us. VVe were discussing some of the 
 never-changing goat soup, when the crv of fire was again 
 raised. Off we dashed. This time the fire was simply 
 terrific. The grass grew far over one's head, and there 
 were, too, a number of palm trees with dead leaves attached 
 to their trunks, which carried the flames high into the air. 
 These conflagrations can only be got under by following 
 them up from behind, and beating them with green boughs 
 down the wind. It was enough to make one shrink and 
 quail to dash through the raging furnace to reach its rear. 
 But through we went, and the next moment the battle 
 began. It was simply glorious. The naked figures of the 
 m.en, leaping, yelling, and dashing about like so many 
 hundred demons ; the roar of the fire almost drowning the 
 cries of ' Piga moto ' (Beat down the fire) ; the lambent 
 flames and the dense rolling volumes of smoke formed a 
 wonderful plutonic picture. In the midst of it all the white 
 men, scorched and dripping with perspiration, urged on the 
 workers with all their lung power. While the confusion 
 was at its height, I came across Stokes, who had attacked 
 the enemy from another flank. He had fallen into a hole 
 
^t. 34.] Mamboia. 1S5 
 
 and was rather badly shaken, and did not get over it for some 
 time afterwards. At last we conquered." 
 
 The London Missionary Society party were close at 
 hand, as the two caravans journeyed together as far as Uyui. 
 This was not always an advantage to either, since it was 
 hard to supply so large a body of men with food on the 
 route ; but on the present occasion the conjunction was a 
 happy one, and the united forces, amounting to some five 
 hundred men, were brought to bear, all together, upon the 
 common enemy. 
 
 On July 17th, almost all the party were visited by a 
 worse enemy than fire. All except Mr. Edmonds were 
 laid low by the dreaded fever, that scourge of African 
 travellers. The attacks were slight, but, in Hannington's 
 case, often repeated. He was soon to make a closer 
 acquaintance with this and other of the horrors that beset 
 the southern route to the great Lake. 
 
 On the 2 1st they reached Mamboia, a C. M. Station, 
 where they were heartily welcomed by Mr. and Mrs. Last. 
 Hannington describes the station as well situated ; — 
 
 " The house, or bungalow, is prettily placed on the side 
 of the mountain, at about 3000 feet above sea-level, and 
 commands most extensive and beautiful views. Immedi- 
 ately on the west side rises a precipitous clifF, in which a 
 grand old eagle has its eyrie ; to the east the mountains 
 form an amphitheatre, and bold jutting crags add a wildness 
 to the scene ; all that it lacks to make it surpassingly 
 beautiful is water. 
 
 " The soil is most productive, and the climate sub- 
 Alpine, so that our English vegetables grow to great perfec- 
 tion. The flower-garden in front of the house was a mass of 
 geraniums, nasturtiums, petunias, etc. Next to the house 
 stood the Church — a very original structure. Circular mud 
 walls had been built to the height of about six feet, which 
 were covered by a deep sloping roof, open in the centre, 
 from which rose wooden stancheons, which again supported 
 a cap roof — thus an open space was left between the two 
 roofs for ventilation. Pews were not required. The con- 
 
i86 James Hanniiigton. [A.D. 18S2. 
 
 gregation preferred to sit on the ground, and two chairs 
 sufficed for the Europeans. The people are attentive to 
 hear, and send their children to the school. 
 
 " On the 25th we were fain to proceed, our friends 
 going, with us some little distance. But at length a river 
 sent them back. With many heart achings, for partings 
 here seem hard to make, we said farev.'ell. With one, Mrs. 
 Last, we were to meet no more on this side the stream 
 of death.'' 
 
 The next station was Mpwapwa. 
 
 On the way thither, Hannington had a very narrow 
 escape of losing his life. He fell into one of those 
 treacherous pitfalls which the natives set so cleverly for 
 game. His gun was in his hand, and at full cock, but he 
 had the presence of mind to let himself go, and think 
 chiefly of his rifle, which, happily, did not explode. His 
 terrified boy peered over the edge with dreadful anticipations, 
 as there are often spears at the bottom of such traps, so set 
 that any animal falling in is impaled. He was relieved 
 by hearing, " There are no spears," and helped his shaken 
 and bruised, but, providentially, unbroken master out. 
 This pitfall was not less than ten feet deep. 
 
 There was also an alarm of Ruga-ruga (robbers), which 
 excited everybody, but when they saw the impetuous white 
 man rushing to the front, the marauders fled, and left him 
 master of the field. As they drew near to Mpwapwa, 
 Hannington went ahead of the caravan, and pushed forward 
 with only a kw attendants, as he was very desirous to have 
 a long conversation with Dr. Baxter, who v/as residing 
 there, and to avail himself of his knowledge of certain facts of 
 which he desired to inform himself accurately. He says : — 
 
 " The others did not reach the station until the 29th, 
 but I made a double march, and arrived there on the 28th 
 as I wished to have as much time as possible with Dr. 
 Baxter. I have had much conversation with him on the 
 
 subject of , but have not received any very definite 
 
 advice. Should I live to reach my destination, the Lord will 
 provide. We received news from Copplcstone of the sad 
 
vEt. 34-] Mrs. Cole's Sunday School. 187 
 
 accident to Dr. Southon,* and of his amputating his arm. 
 The brethren at Rubaga were well up to Feb. 19th." 
 
 At Kisokwe, near Mpwapwa, Mr. and Mrs. Cole had 
 established themselves, with their little baby — the latter an 
 object of wonder and delight to all the people around, who 
 had never seen a white baby before. Hannington says in 
 one of his diaries : — 
 
 "Both Air. and A-Irs. Cole are earnest and devoted 
 Missionaries. Mrs. Cole has a large Sunday School Class. 
 Its members form such a quaint group ! I should like my 
 friends at home to look in upon them some Sunday after- 
 noon. Some were very gaudily clothed in all sorts of bright 
 colours, some merely in goat skins. Others, again, were 
 red with war-paint, and carried bows and arrows or spears. 
 Altogether, it would be difficult to imagine a more queer 
 yet picturesque group of children; and yet, for all this 
 funny appearance, they were very respectful and orderly, 
 and tried to learn the great lessons which Mrs. Cole endea- 
 vours to teach them about the Saviour of the world." 
 
 Writing to the C. M. S. Committee, he says: "We 
 are resting to-day, Aug. 1st, at Khambe, a day^s march from 
 Mpwapwa. The reason for these rests is that we are 
 waiting for the boat to gain upon us, and catch us up, in 
 order to save hongo (tribute). But I do not personally 
 believe in rests, either for masters or men." (The boat had 
 been, perforce, left behind, through lack of porters to carry 
 it.) " We have now some very hard work before us ; 
 nearly twenty-four hours' march to-morrow." 
 
 " I am very happy. Fever is trying, but it does not take 
 away the joy of the Lord, and keeps one low in the right 
 place." 
 
 * Dr. Southon, of the L. M. S., had been shot accidentally by his 
 gun-bearer, and his arm shattered above the elbow. Mr. Copple- 
 stone, after many days, reached him, and received instructions 
 how to amputate the limb. Dr. Southon then gave himself chloro- 
 form, and the operation was performed. Though he had never 
 attempted such a thing before, Mr. Copplestone carried out his 
 instructions very skilfully ; but the operation was performed too 
 late, and his patient, to the great loss of the Mission, died. 
 
CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 MPWAPWA TO UYUI. 
 
 (1882.) 
 
 " It grieves me, too, Lord ! that so many should wander, 
 Should see nought before them but desolate night, 
 That men should be walled in with darkness around them, 
 When within and without there is nothing but light." 
 
 Faber. 
 
 During the march the African traveller has little time or 
 opportunity to indulge his taste for collecting. All through 
 the weary day he plods steadily on, nor dares to loiter, lest 
 he should fail to reach his camp and watering place by 
 nightfall. When at length tents are pitched, and camp- 
 fires lighted, he has scarce energy to write up his journal, 
 but flings himself down to snatch what brief rest he can 
 before the inevitable reveille oi \he. next sun or moon.* 
 
 Hannington made the best of his time during the short 
 halt near Mpwapwa. He scoured the district to make a 
 collection of its flora and fauna, specimens of which he pre- 
 served and packed to be sent home. Much of this, and 
 what follows, he describes in the interesting articles which 
 he wrote for the Chttrchinan'm 1883 — 4. We shall not 
 attempt to catalogue the results of his research, or our space 
 would wholly fail. It is enough to say that he brought back 
 with him, and sent to the British Museum, a large collection 
 of birds and insects, and that a valuable selection of mosses 
 and plants were forwarded to Mr. Mitten, of Hurstpierpoint, 
 for classification. 
 
 *- This when crossing desert districts. Even on days when 
 tents are pitched at 10 or 11 a.m. little energy is left to brave the 
 sun's rays after a long march through the night and early morning 
 hours. 
 
JEt. 24-1 Tlie Naturalist in Africa. 1S9 
 
 While hunting for specimens at Mpwapwa, with Dr. 
 Baxter, he says : " We suddenly came into the midst of an 
 enormous caravan of black ants, and although we fled as 
 fast as our legs would carry us, we suffered severely. The 
 noise these ants made on the march, as they went by in 
 their countless myriads, was like a kind of hissing roar, and 
 the dry bed of the stream in which we were was covered 
 with them as far as the eye could reach. '^ 
 
 Hannington was well bitten on this and many subsequent 
 occasions, but his zeal for collecting was not to be damped 
 by any such trifling misadventures. While botanizing on 
 the Usagara mountains, he encountered a beautiful but most 
 malignant bean, the pod of which is densely covered with 
 short red hairs, which enter the skin and cause the acutest 
 agony. He says : " When I first seized the tempting bait 
 I was nearly driven mad with pain, and was a long time 
 discovering the source of the mischief; for, unlike the nettle, 
 which stings at once, this venemous pod does not develop 
 its evil effects until some time afterwards." * 
 
 He described to me an ant which was in the habit of 
 crawling as far as possible up the leg of its victim before 
 biting him, when suddenly the unfortunate who v/as thus 
 outraged appeared to his friends as though he were attacked 
 by some violent and uncontrollable internal pain, as he 
 clapped his hand to the part affected and rushed off to un- 
 dress and dislodge the fiery little assailant. Truly the 
 naturalist in Africa needs to be a man of courage ! 
 
 The road to Khambe lies through dense forest of the 
 shadeless order, and over very stony ground. All were 
 thoroughly tired out, and looked forward to rest when they 
 reached their camping ground. When they had climbed 
 to the summit of the Pass above Khambe they looked 
 eagerly down and searched with their eyes for the tents, but 
 no camp was to be seen. A tempestuous wind was raging 
 below, whirling before it clouds of dust. The camp fires 
 had all been scattered and extinguished ; the men had taken 
 
 * This pod used to be employed — perhaps still is — in tormenting 
 criminals. Its application soon produces raving madness. 
 
190 James Hanninglon. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 refuge in a deep trench which formed the course of a 
 mountain torrent ; nothing was to be seen but the long 
 driving of the dusty winds. Hannington says: " Two of 
 the tents were already down, while the others were fast get- 
 ting adrift. Volumes of dust were swamping beds, blankets, 
 boxes, buckets — everything ; a more miserable scene could 
 scarcely be beheld by a band of benighted pilgrims. There 
 was no use in staring at it. As for myself, I seized a 
 hammer, and set to work on the tent pegs, and soon forgot 
 that I was tired. By and by we got things to rights, but 
 that night we slept in a dust heap. This is the kind of 
 thing all the way through U-Gogo, It is bad enough in a 
 hot climate to have dust in your hair and down your neck ; 
 but when every mouthful of food grates your teeth, I leave 
 you to imagine the amenities of tent-life in a sandy plain. '^ 
 
 From Khambe a very trying march of forty miles lay 
 before them across the desert of Marenga Mkali to the next 
 halting place at Pero, the frontier town of U-Gogo. Dark- 
 ness fell shortly after five o'clock with that suddenness 
 peculiar to the tropics, and which Coleridge has so vividly 
 described : 
 
 " The sun's rim dips ; the stars rush out ; 
 At one stride comes the dark." 
 
 They were in the midst of dense tangle overhead, with 
 rough stony ground below. For three miserable hours they 
 stumbled onward, not without many cuts and bruises, until 
 eight o'clock, when a halt was called, huge cainp fires 
 lighted, and a itvi hours' sleep obtained. At i a.m. the 
 drum summoned the sleepers, and the yawning caravan was 
 again put in motion. The diary continues : " We were 
 not alone in this desert place. I thought that I heard 
 voices. This was doubted at the time, but when we 
 resumed our march we came upon smouldering fires scarce 
 a hundred yards distant. When we numbered our men at 
 the journey's end one of them was missing, and the search 
 party discovered a pool of blood where he had evidently been 
 killed. He must have straggled behind, and been set upon 
 and robbed of his load." 
 
JEt. 24-] Robbers! 191 
 
 Their adventures were not yet over. "When the sun 
 rose, and the heat began to increase, we found ourselves 
 very weary. Presently three shots were heard, and the cry 
 of ' Ruga- Ruga ! ' (robbers) ran down the hne h'ke wildfire. 
 The men, especially the warlike Wa-Sukuma, roused 
 themselves in a moment ; their headman begged me to see 
 to the piling up of the loads while he and his chief men ran 
 to the battle. What a transformation ! Mild-eyed, gentle- 
 looking blacks appeared as altered men; their nostrils were 
 dilated, their eyes flashed fire, and every muscle quivered 
 with excitement as they dashed past eager for the fray. 
 It was more than I could stand. I deputed the care of the 
 baggage to more peaceful brethren, seized my gun, and ad- 
 vanced toward the scene of action. After all it turned out 
 to be a false alarm. A disappointment to the Wa-Sukuma ! 
 We found out afterwards that it was a got- up thing by the 
 wily Stokes. Seeing that the men flagged, and were nearly 
 worn out, he thought that a little excitement might have a 
 good effect ; and so it had. Not knowing the imposture, 
 we all re\'ived and marched on with a will, and at 11.30 a.m. 
 reached Pero." 
 
 From Pero the men were hard td mo^ro. Much per- 
 suasion, and the promise of a short march, got them as tar 
 as the next camp. Here " the water was desperately bad. 
 A deep well was the only resource, and this was full of 
 dead toads and rats, which putrlfied there. No filtering or 
 boiling availed to make it drinkable. It smelt abominably ; 
 all food cooked in it was flavoured by it." It is not surpris- 
 ing that on the following Sunday, August the 6th, Han- 
 nington developed symptoms of fever. He determined to 
 try and walk it off. On the previous day he had seen three 
 lions, and had followed them into some dense bush, where 
 they were lost ; he now, though without his rifle, turned 
 his steps in that direction, taking Mr. Gordon, his nephew, 
 with him. He had not gone far when the fever laid hold 
 upon him, and he staggered back with difficulty to his tent. 
 That evening his temperature reached 1 10", and he was 
 seized with violent rigors, and then with alarming fainting 
 fits. The others were most kind and attentive, and the 
 
James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 wonderful unselfishness of his, in a land where every selhsh 
 characteristic of the traveller seems called into active play, 
 placed a weary companion upon the beast instead. 
 
 The next camp was little better. A frightful stench 
 
 pervaded the air, as of animal putrefaction. They named 
 
 it " Dead Man's Camp." Here Hannington was again 
 
 put on the rack by another terrible attack of fever. He 
 
 says ; " Fever is not always agonizing, but sometimes, as on 
 
 the present occasion, it is accompanied by violent sickness, 
 
 intense pain in every limb, and burning thirst. I had 
 
 nothing to drink, and my tongue was so hard and dry, that 
 
 when 1 touched it with my finger, it made a noise like 
 
 scraping a file." As he could not be allowed to remain 
 
 there, and was now too feeble to stand, he was placed in a 
 
 hammock and carried by two men. 
 
 Even in the midst of intense suffering he never lost his 
 sense of the humorous. 
 
 He says : " The curiosity of the natives in these parts 
 was unbounded ; they swarmed round our tents from morn- 
 \r\<x to night. The men were quite naked, bat for a short 
 cloak of goat skin, which reached to the waist, and their 
 bodies besmeared with red ochre. The women were 
 clothed, and covered with copper and iron chains, which 
 were quite becoming. The lobes of their ears were dis- 
 tended, and made to hold all sorts of things, from an old 
 cartridge case to a Wock of wood as iarge as the cork of 1 
 gooseberry bottJe. Sometimes the Jobes break down so 
 that, to their immense regret, they can wear nothino-' in 
 them. I have often bsen asked to mend their ears • °b 
 although -r couJd easily have done it by nippino- oft the "rl* 
 where they were broken and binding them too-eth ^'^ T 
 always refused to encourage their vanity. ° ' 
 
 "The inquisitive Wa-Gogo followed us in swarm 
 marched, like the people at home running afrp,- , a ^^ ^^ 
 fife band. The vexing part of it was that th "'""^"d- 
 
 think us far more curious than they were a d^^' ^^^'ned to 
 
 enlightened, cr civilized, or fashionably "dre«^"'''"'v '^ 
 
 / cssed. JSJor 
 
^t. 34.] 
 
 ■Fever. 
 
 193 
 
 iecdlec "'" "' " ''°" P""" ^"' ^^^' -- -^ easy to 
 
 The sketch represents his tent. One natiVe, ^vho can 
 not get a view, is supposed to be saying : " I shall abide my 
 time; I daresay he isn't worth much;" while from the 
 crowd issue cries of " Did you ever see such a creature ? " 
 " No, we never did ! ! ! " " What are those things on his 
 eyes? are they horns growing?" 7o his young friends at 
 home he wrote : " Fancy a set of hideous savages regarding 
 your uncle as a strange, outlandish creature, frightful to 
 behold ! ' Are those your feet, Whiteman ? ' ' No, gentle- 
 
 men, they are not. They are my sandals.' ' But, do they 
 grow to your feet ? ' ' No, gentlemen, they do not ; 
 I will show you.' So I would unlace a boot. A roar of 
 astonishment followed when they saw my blue sock, as 
 they thought my feet must be blue and toeless. I pulled off 
 the sock, and they were dumbfounded at the sight of my 
 white, five-toed foot. They used to think that only my 
 face and hands were white, and the rest of me black like 
 themselves. My watch, too, was an unfailing attraction. 
 ' There is a man in it.' ' It is Lubari ; it is witchcraft,' 
 they would cry. ' He talks ; he says Teek, teek, teek.' 
 My nose they would compare with a spear, it struck them 
 
 13 
 
194 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 as so sharp and thin as compared with their own. Often 
 one would give my hair a smart pull to try whether it were 
 a wig, and would come off." 
 
 The Wa-Gogo have an ill repute for their treatment of 
 travellers, but Hannington took a decided fancy to them, 
 and thought that he sav/ in them certain manly character- 
 istics which might be won to the service of his Lord. He 
 noted, however, that as yet, though they watched the 
 white men at worship, they themselves showed little or no 
 interest in the Gospel message. 
 
 He writes: "By the 21st of August we had passed 
 through U-Gogo without having paid hongo (tribute), a 
 triumph of African travel." The system of blackmailing is 
 one of the great hindrances to travel in the interior, and is 
 a heavy tax upon both the time and resources of a caravan. 
 On this occasion Mr. Stokes tried a new route, and they 
 escaped without the usual trouble. 
 
 By the commencement of September the caravan was 
 within a short distance of Uyui, where there is a C. M. 
 Station. During the whole time Hannington had never 
 been free from fever, but he had marched resolutely on, and 
 kept determinedly to his own feet so long as they would 
 carry him. He was the life and soul of the party, and never 
 let his companions' spirits flag. This is how he describes 
 the incidents of a march : 
 
 " Take it as a rule you start at sunrise, which is 
 often so gorgeous that it delies description. During the 
 early hours herds of antelope bound into the thicket at your 
 approach. Wild boar, giraffe, fresh tracks of elephants, 
 but never elephants themselves, are met with. 
 
 " Presently you enter dense tangle, so thick that it 
 seems to defy even the wild beasts to penetrate it. No 
 view is to be had. The pathway itself is, at times, quite 
 hidden ; and yet, in the dry season, the leafless boughs form 
 no protection against the burning rays of the sun. Now we 
 come upon the dry bed of a pool, and I discover a shell 
 that I have never seen before. It considerably enlivens me, 
 and the next mile passes without a murmur. 
 
yEt. 34.] Keeping up their Spirits. 195 
 
 " Then a shriek of joy. ' Elephants ? ' ' No, or I should 
 not have made a noise ! ■" ' Giraffe ? ' "■ No.' ' Water ? ' 
 'No.' 'WzW.zvhat?' 'ATortuIa.' ' What's that ? A 
 snake .' ' ' No ; a moss ; haven't seen a vestige of moss 
 for a hundred miles.' '■ O/i ! ' with an emphasis that no 
 explanation will exactly convey. Afterwards, ' Ona 
 Bwana, mbuzu ! ' (' See, master, a baobab tree.') Ah, yes, 
 sure enough, standing out in solitary grandeur, there it is, 
 and that means water, and a halt for the night." 
 
 On August 26th he writes: "Gordon and I started 
 early to take advantage of the cool hours. We saw many 
 nice sights which we should otherwise have missed, as the 
 beasts were still moving. More than once hyasnas of the 
 yellow variety crossed our path, nor did they appear to 
 notice us. By and by we came upon skulls, broken boxes, 
 and other signs of a fight with robbers. An eagle flapped 
 lazily across the path. He, too, had had his share of the 
 spoil ; and of the fight also — for he would have to battle for 
 his portion with the jackals and hyaenas. It was a ghastly 
 sight, and inclined us for a moment to think that it might 
 be wise to wait until the caravan came up." 
 
 On the 30th, they rested for a day at Itura. The Wa- 
 Nyamwezi women determined to honour them with a na- 
 tional dance, and as Hannington was Bwana Mkubwa (great 
 master), they arranged themselves in ranks before his tent 
 for the purpose. They danced him nearly to death. No 
 remonstrances availed. They never seemed to tire, but the 
 chanting and drumming went on incessantly, hour after hour, 
 till he says, "one grew pale with the ceaseless thudding of 
 the drums." 
 
 When at length the dance was over, Hannington solemnly 
 displayed to the assembled women a doll which a friend 
 had sent him, and undressed it before their delighted eyes. 
 They were charmed to see thus practically illustrated the 
 manner in which English ladies clothe themselves, and the 
 multitude and variety of their white sisters' habiliments. 
 
 On the 31st, another Pori, or forest desert, of about 
 eighty miles, lay before them. As far as the eye could 
 
196 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 see were tall, thin, and shadeless acacia trees, and hard- 
 baked soil which threw back the rays of the sun with terrific 
 force. On Sept. and, while still painfully plodding through 
 this Fori, as there was a full moon, a start was made at 
 midnight to avoid the intense heat. Hannington brought 
 up the rear, to keep the men from straggling. " At last," 
 he says, " they got a little troublesome. I said to a man 
 who persisted in loitering, ' Very well ; then I shall leave 
 you to be eaten by lions.' A moment or two after I heard 
 a shot, and then another, with yells and shouts. Of course, 
 I thought that the dreaded Ruga-Ruga were upon us, and so 
 rushed forward, forgetting my gun, which my boy was carry- 
 ing behind me. The firing and yelling increased as I neared 
 the front, and I seized a gun from the retreating form of 
 Duta, and pressed on. Then I found that the commotion 
 was caused by a lion who was enjoying his supper in the 
 bushes before us, close to the path, and who, in spite of the 
 uproar and firing, refused to budge an inch. I begged the 
 men to be calm, and taking my own gun, advanced for a 
 shot ; but they danced round me, shouted to me to come 
 hack, and one even seized my coat-tails. I turned quite 
 rusty at this, and pushed the stupid man aside. Two of the 
 white men now took to the trees, when they saw that I 
 was in earnest, and most of the black men followed them. 
 The other two white men, Ashe and Gordon, determined 
 to abide with me and share my fate ; the former armed with 
 a revolver, the latter with his umbrella! Of all lion- 
 adventures that I have heard of, this was about the most 
 laughable. There was the lion, very wroth, like a dog 
 with his bone. There was I, with my valiant body-guard 
 in line behind me There were the others, thickly clustered 
 ■upon the trees, like so many crows. I was preparing to fire 
 ■when in rushed a black boy, and discharged his gun v/ildly 
 in the lion's direction. Happily he missed, though the 
 bullet went close to where the lion lay. I saw hinf move 
 and drag his prey further into the jungle, where we lost 
 sight of him, though we could still hear his deep growlings. 
 My two friends refused to leave me. I felt cornpetent to 
 avoid the charge of the beast myself if he were wounded 
 
- -If- 
 
■ 34.J A Ridiculous Lion Adventure 197 
 
 th,s there was no d.fficultyin keeping the stragglers together 
 Their fatigue suddenly disappeared, and they packed together 
 like a flock of sheep." ^ 
 
 After a long and painful march which taxed their powers 
 of endurance to the utmost, they reached the Mission 
 Station of Uyui on the 4th of September. Here Hanning- 
 ton was seized with dysentery, and during the next ten days 
 was brought to the very door of death. The Jesuit priests 
 at Unyanyembe (the spot where Livingstone and Stanley 
 parted) prescribed an injection of carbolic acid, which for a 
 time relieved the most distressing symptoms, but nothing 
 seemed to avail permanently. 
 
 On the evening of the 13th the other members of the 
 Mission met in council. Hannington lay in his bed, 
 anxiously and prayerfully awaiting their decision with regard 
 to him. He hoped against hope that he might still be able 
 to proceed to the Lake. After long deliberation, they 
 announced to him the result of their consultation. He was 
 to be left behind at Uyui whilst the others went forward 
 without him. He says : " This decision came as a tre-. 
 mendous disappointment ; but 1 had expected it, and received 
 it as an oracle from heaven." On the 15th they left, and 
 he remained in the brotherly hands of Mr. Copplestone, and 
 under the special charge of his nephew, Cyril Gordon. 
 
 During his sickness, Ngembi, the chief of the district, 
 called. Hannington made a great effort to sit up and receive 
 him. He made him a present of a dressing-gown in the 
 name of the Society, as the chief had heard that both 
 Mirambo and Mtesa had been officially recognized by the 
 Europeans, whereas he had been neglected. Hannington 
 writes : " He is chief of a large and important district, but 
 is a great drunkard, and difficult to get on with, yet wonder- 
 fully improved of late. He is very frightened at the comet ; 
 and a conversation about this gave Copplestone an opening 
 again to put the Gospel before him." 
 
 During the interview, however, Hannington sat in a 
 draught, and the consequence was that an old enemy of his, 
 
• q8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 acute rheumatism, set in, which in a few days turned to 
 rheumatic fever. This, on top of his fever and dysentery, 
 reduced him to the lowest ebb ; it seemed impossible that 
 he could recover. He says : 
 
 " Let me bear witness to Gordon's extreme attention 
 and kindness, in nursing me night and day. He would 
 not let me die. On Oct. 15th dysentery returned ; I was 
 desperately ill, and in such agony that I had to ask all to 
 leave me and let me scream, as it seemed slightly to relieve 
 the intense pain. In this state, I said to Gordon, ' Can it 
 be long before I die ? ' His answer was, ' No ; nor can 
 you desire that it should be so.' " 
 
 I have received a most interesting letter from Mr. 
 Copplestone, who was then in charge of the station at Uyui. 
 He writes : 
 
 "Mr. Stokes had been loud in his praises of our friend, 
 so that I was in some measure predisposed in his favour, 
 and an openness and freeness sprang up at once between us. 
 The day after his arrival he went to my well and drank two 
 glassfuls of the water, which he found very cold and refreshing. 
 But we had not the slightest doubt afterwards but that that 
 water, delicious as it was, was the cause of that long and 
 protracted illness which took so many painful forms, and 
 e\'entually necessitated his reluctant return to England. 
 His illness came on so suddenly and was so severe that, for 
 days, we thought that he could not recover. We placed 
 him in a comfortable room which I had built for a school. 
 On the departure of Stokes, Ashe, and Wise for the 
 Lake, he was removed to my house, occupying the guest 
 room, and thus conferring upon me the honour and privilege 
 of having him and dear Gordon as guests for six weeks. 
 
 " I did not, however, get to understand him properly. 
 There was a something in his character which I could not 
 get to the bottom of. 1 did not then hold the key to his life. 
 Although so weak and ill, he was very seldom still and 
 never idle. I often wondered why he did not rest more. 
 When compelled to keep to bed he did his best to paint what 
 
^t. 35'] "Choose a Place for My Grave." 199 
 
 flowers Gordon might bring in to him from our rambles. As 
 often as he could he would sit up, always at work at writing 
 or painting. One thing he did was to draw up a small 
 book of information for the guidance of men who should 
 leave home for Africa, and for the Committee. From the very 
 commencement he was bent upon making the best possible 
 use of the knowledge and experience which he had gained. 
 
 " I have a distinct remembrance of one of the i^^ walks 
 which he was able to take with myself. ' Copplestone,' 
 he said, ' I do not think that I can recover from this ill- 
 ness. Let us go, that we may choose a place for my 
 grave.' So we went, and he selected a spot where he said 
 we were to bury him. He did not expect that he could live 
 long in such a state as that in which he then was. 
 
 " His stay with me was a real blessing. His spirituality 
 was very deep. Oftentimes he would say, ' Come, Copple- 
 stone, sing me one of your consecration hymns.' His 
 favourite was, ' I am coming to the Cross.' Nearly every 
 night we would have a special time of prayer together before 
 retiring to rest. Yes, those were hallowed times, never to 
 be forgotten. 
 
 "The return of Stokes to Uyui, after his unsuccessful 
 attempt to reach the Lake by the old route, and his departure 
 again via Urambo, took away my friend, for he insisted that 
 he should go forward, though he should be carried the whole 
 way. I accompanied them as far as Urambo, to see 
 Mirambo, the chief, about securing a road through his 
 newly-acquired country, to the South end of the Lake. I 
 spent a night at their camp at, Kwandi, and went some 
 distance into the jungle, and bade him good-bye in the 
 best of spirits, though very weak in body. He was then 
 being carried. 
 
 " I did not again meet him until after his return to 
 England, and found in him an irresistible desire to return to 
 Africa. At this I was not surprised, and not very much 
 so when I heard the report that there was a probability of 
 his being consecrated Bishop of Central Equatorial Africa. 
 
 " I have said above that I could not understand much 
 of what I saw in the Bishop when at Uyui, and that 
 
203 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 because I had not then the key to his life. This, however, 
 was given me in some measure, when on a visit to Hurst ; 
 but more definitely during a week I spent with him at 
 Martinhoe after his consecration. 
 
 "He appeared to have such an open, frank carelessness ; 
 and when I saw him at Hurst, and the way in which he 
 went about there, it was clear to me that there was some- 
 thing more than ordinary in him, and an amount of 
 originality about him that made him different from many 
 other men. The earnestness with which he carried on the 
 work of his parish corresponded with the longing desire 
 after the welfare of his people which I had seen in him 
 when in Africa. 
 
 "The young men appeared devoted to him. He was 
 one who could come down to their level, and make himself 
 one with them, and from his influence over them I could 
 see clearly that, like David, he bowed their hearts like one 
 man. 
 
 " He invited me to spend a few days at Martinhoe. On 
 the appointed day we met at Exeter. There were with him 
 Mr. Ireland and Cecil M'Gillivray, a native teacher of the 
 Universities' Mission at Zanzibar, of whom the Bishop was 
 very fond. Among our many rambles over the cliffs and 
 by the shore, he took us one day to visit the caves which he 
 had discovered in former days, when he was a pupil with 
 Mr. Scriven. We were caught by the tide. It was delight- 
 ful to watch the dear Bishop springing over the rocks and 
 through the pools, and finally he had to take off his coat as 
 well as ourselves, and almost swim in order to reach his 
 ' Jacob's Ladder.' 
 
 " Wherever he went he always had a warm welcome 
 from old friends, and the poor people were continually 
 showering grateful blessings upon him as he passed. The 
 secret was, I am sure, his true sympathy and endeavour to 
 make himself one with them ; and grandly he succeeded. I 
 think it was the day before we left that he invited about 
 a dozen of the old women to a sumptuous farewell tea. And 
 before they left he had readings of the Word and gave them 
 a homely address." 
 
^t. 35.] " / Shall Live and Not Die" 201 
 
 I have quoted this letter farther than its immediate 
 reference to Uyui, because it throws light upon Hannington's 
 character and goes to prove how essential an intimate 
 acquaintance with him was to the right understanding of his 
 rare nature. 
 
 The caravan in the charge of Mr. Stokes had, in the 
 meanwhile, gone some distance along the old road to the 
 Lake, when the natives endeavoured to extract an extor- 
 tionate hongo, and to enforce its payment by arms. Mr. 
 Stokes paid their demand, but very wisely refused to pro- 
 ceed, and returned to the chief of the district with a com- 
 plaint of their breach of faith. The chief, who had received 
 his tribute, and was responsible for their safe conduct, was 
 very angry, and demanded the return of the hongo from the 
 tribesmen. While this dispute was pending, Mr. Stokes 
 brought the caravan back to Uyui, and determined to 
 approach the Lake by a different route.* 
 
 In Hannington's diary is the following entry : 
 
 " Oct. 6th. — Slightly better, but still in very great pain. 
 To our immense surprise Stokes turned up early this morn- 
 ing. When I heard his voice I exclaimed, ' I shall live and 
 not die.' It inspired me with new life. I felt that they 
 had returned that I might go with them." 
 
 Again a consultation was held. This time the members 
 of the Mission were divided in opinion. The majority, 
 however, held that their leader was different to other people, 
 and that his iron will might possibly pull him through, 
 where a man of less strength of purpose would be doomed 
 to failure, A hammock was prepared, and it was decided 
 that he should accompany them to the Lake. 
 
 * It appears also that hongo was demanded in guns and 
 powder, which is a kind of tribute which the agents of the C. M. S. 
 always consistently refuse to pay. 
 
CHAPTER XV. 
 
 UYUI TO THE VICTORIA NYANZA. 
 
 (X882.) 
 
 " His soul is too fresh with heaven to take the world's point of 
 view about anything." — Letter from Mrs. Nathaniel Hawthorne. 
 
 Writing to Mr. Wigram from Uyui just before his depar- 
 ture, Hannington says : 
 
 " Do, my dear sir, forgive me for writing so much about 
 myself and so little about the others. My severe and re- 
 peated illnesses have made me think too much of myself, I 
 fear, as if I v/ere the centre of interest instead of those who 
 are strong and healthy, and likely to carry on the work. 
 They are the centre of our hopes, and it is they whose 
 movements should be described. An empty bottle on the 
 shelf requires no description. ... I have decided to 
 go on the day after to-morrow, . . . but I am prepared 
 to be careful and to go, as we say out here, ' Pole pole ' 
 (gently). . . I close with words of hope. I am better ; 
 full of joy, and, I hope, of praise to my God." 
 
 On Oct. 14th the messenger sent to recover the hongo 
 which had been extorted from the caravan returned, bringing 
 with him all the bales of cloth, except one which had been 
 opened. The people, under pressure from their suzerain, 
 offered eight cows in place of the missing bale, and thus the 
 dispute was most happily arranged. 
 
 On the 1 6th all was ready for a start. Hannington 
 says : " I had stipulated that I was to have six porters ex- 
 clusively to myself, to carry me, for I had already had very 
 disagreeable experience of a scratch crew ; and I further 
 offered to pay for them myself. On arriving in camp I 
 found all confusion. Fifty men had run away. They had 
 
^t. 35.] Carried in a Hammock. 203 
 
 deserted, panic-stricken at the idea ot crossing Mirfmbo's 
 country. We, however, determined not to wait, but to 
 proceed with as many Joads as we could, and leave headmen 
 to gather porters and bring on the rest. The next thing to 
 be arranged was, what was to remain and what was to go. 
 During the turmoil I crept out of the way and remained, I 
 will not say rested, on the ground under a tree for two hours 
 and a half. At length, at half-past four, the drum sounded 
 and my men came up. I was too ill to scrutinize them, or 
 think who they were, or how many of them had been told 
 off for hammock duty ; so we started. Presently I dis- 
 covered that I had only four bearers, and these, with one 
 exception, were the very dregs of the caravan. . . . By 
 and by my men began to totter, and finally let me drop. 
 Fortunately I expected it and was prepared, and caught my- 
 self, thus saving an ugly fall ; it is a most dangerous thing to 
 be dropped suddenly from a hammock, as one falls first on 
 the small of his back and is likely to injure his spine. I 
 gave them a long rest, but it was not of the slightest use, 
 and finally, for safety's sake, I was compelled to abandon the 
 hammock and walk for two hours. I had been in bed for 
 nearly six weeks before. It only proves what one can do 
 when one must. . . . The next day I got fresh carriers, 
 but they were not used to the work, and I was worse off 
 than before. The scenes of the past afternoon were pain- 
 fully repeated ; so the day following I declined to stir an 
 inch until I had six good men allotted to me, for my life 
 absolutely depended upon it." 
 
 On the 20th, Mr. Copplestone and Mr. Stokes went 
 to Mirambo's village to interview that renowned African 
 monarch, so the following day the porters took advantage of 
 the absence of their caravan leader to be troublesome. 
 When they arrived at a certain village where no halt ought to 
 have been made they insisted they would remain there. Han- 
 nington says : " The men made a great row, and vowed they 
 would go no further. I sat perfectly still until they had 
 shouted themselves out, and then ordered my hammock and 
 said that I was going on. The last shout that I heard was 
 ' We won't come ; ' but about five minutes later I perceived 
 
204 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 that they were on the road, and on arriving very shortly at a 
 better camping ground, they wzxt in excellent spirits, and 
 said that they were glad that I had made them go on." 
 
 On the 22nd they arrived at the Pero (the frontier 
 town) of Urambo, and received a message assuring them of 
 Mirambo's friendship. Hannington and Mr. Wise were too 
 ill to leave the camp^ but all the others went to the capital 
 to pay their respects to the king. 
 
 On the 25th they started for the comparatively new 
 country of Msalala. The only white man who had passed 
 that way before was Speke, and he had only touched the 
 route at one or two places. They thus looked forward to 
 the journey with much interest. 
 
 In spite of his weakness, Hannington enjoyed this 
 changeful life. Drenching rain succeeding furnace-like heat ; 
 soaked clothes by day and wet bed-clothes by night could 
 not damp his spirits. He says : " I can now just sit up for 
 meals ; the rheumatism in my right leg and back is still rather 
 relentless ; if I were at home the doctor would be wrapping 
 me up in cotton wool, but this life is thoroughly agreeable to 
 me. If I had good health I should be too happy. What 
 wonderful mercy surrounds us. Truly, underneath are the 
 Everlasting Arms ! •'■' 
 
 On Nov. ist they encamped near the village of a chief 
 called Shimami, " a great chief — great in possessions, stature, 
 and power. A man of remarkably fine points." After 
 exchange of presents, Shimami took Hannington for a tour 
 of exploration through his village. They set ofF in single 
 file, Shimami — wearmg one of the presents, a pair of blue 
 spectacles — leading the way, his guest second, and the court 
 officials following in order of rank. When near the village, 
 Hannington bestowed upon him a wide-awake hat. " His 
 delight knew no bounds. He put it on, and, spectacles 
 and all, strutted oif as proud as a peacock. His chief 
 minister discovered that the crown of the hat was flattened 
 a little, in the fashion we generally wear our wide-awakes. 
 So it was taken off and erected in a sharp peak; then its rim 
 was bent up au brigand^ and altered again and yet again. I 
 was immensely amused, but my mirth only caused greater 
 
^t. 35.] An Unexplored District. 205 
 
 delight, for in Africa laughter is seldom expressive of 
 ridicule." 
 
 " Nov. 4th brought us to the Sultan's, a minor of about 
 12 years old named Gargi. I can only speak of him as a 
 delightful little black. He quite won my heart, and we 
 were soon walking about hand in hand together, though 
 followed by a large retinue to see that we did not get into 
 mischief" 
 
 On the 6th Hannington was so much better that he 
 attempted the ascent of a mountain. He went alone, as- 
 cending by creepers which hung from crevices in the iron- 
 stone rock. Above the crags was dense jungle. He soon, 
 however, struck a path which led to some deserted huts, 
 which had the appearance of a robber's hold. This looked 
 bad, but the hope of fresh botanical treasures urged him on. 
 For some time he crept upward, often on hands and knees, 
 through the thick undergrowth, till by and by he heard an 
 ominous rustle. At first he thought of lions, and remem- 
 bered that he was unarmed. Then as he peered into the 
 tangle he heard a whisper that sounded very human, and his 
 thoughts at once reverted to the abandoned huts and to 
 murderous robbers. Soon appeared three men armed with 
 a pistol and bows and arrows. There was not much hope 
 of escape if they meant mischief, so he at once resolved to 
 face them, and descending, called out " Wadela," which is 
 Kinyamwezi for " good afternoon." 
 
 The reply was not, as he half expected, an arrow or a 
 bullet ; those three had dogged his steps for some time, as in 
 the "prospecting" regions of America men dog the steps of 
 one whom they suspect to have discovered the secret of a 
 new mine. They were in want of water, and believed that 
 the white man had power to create it. In fact, that his 
 business on the mountains was to form a new spring ! Han- 
 nington tried to explain that this was in the power of God 
 alone, but in vain, for " What," says he, "could a manbe 
 doing who kept picking little pieces of moss and examining 
 them through a magnifying glass, or cutting off bark from a 
 tree, or turning over a stone for a beetle ? Even in the 
 
2o6 James Hamiington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 West of England two very eminent botanists were regarded 
 as ' old herbalists/ and were not altogether beyond the sus- 
 picion of necromancy ; but here, where witchcraft is the 
 religion of the country, no words of mine could persuade 
 them that I was not a most powerful magician, though un- 
 willing to exercise my power." 
 
 " Nov. Zth. — After a twenty miles' march we arrived at 
 Kwa Sonda, in JVIsalala, the last village under Mirambo's 
 jurisdiction. Here we were promised our first view of the 
 mighty Victoria Nyanza, and here we hoped to found a new 
 Station. The Lake was supposed to be but five miles distant. 
 We struggled on. But what was our bitter disappointment 
 to see nothing but a green expanse of rushes, looking like a 
 cricket field, and stretching away for miles. We had ex- 
 pected to behold a grand stretch of blue water and luxuriant 
 foliage when we reached Kwa Sonda. Instead of this, only 
 a sandy plain, and in the midst of it a singularly unpic- 
 turesque village. After we had been introduced to the chief 
 and been assured by him that the water was not far off, I 
 crept silently away to explore, but was soon discovered and 
 followed by the others. As to the natives, they could tell us 
 nothing with certainty. The greater part seemed never to have 
 travelled northward through fear of hostile tribes. Some cried 
 one thing, some another, so we had to find out our where- 
 abouts for ourselves. Soon a drenching shower overtook us, 
 which would have damped the ardour of most men, but not 
 of those who had tramped nigh a thousand miles to reach 
 their sphere of work at the sources of the Nile. We crept 
 beneath a glorious jessamine bush and there sheltered until 
 the worst was over. Then on we went and yet onwards : 
 but though the scenery had changed and become very beauti- 
 ful, yet no lake was visible. By and by we saw, from the 
 top of a high rock, a swamp of reeds and grass which, as J 
 have said before, looked like a well-mown cricket field but 
 not a drop of water. Our hearts sank, and with weary 
 tread we returned to the camp to answer the eager inquiries 
 of the men with 'JVIaji Ilapana' (There is no water). 
 
 " I implored the brethren to reserve all remarks until 
 after we had been refreshed by food ; for not only had we 
 
JEt 35.] Ftrsi Sight of the Nyanza. 207 
 
 had a very long march, but also a fatiguing search and a 
 great disappointment. After dinner, just as we had opened 
 the books for prayers, in came the chief, and asked what 
 we were about. When we told him we were going to pray 
 to God, he replied : ' Go on ; let me hear you.' Then 
 when we had finished : ' You must teach me.' This seemed 
 to come to us as an immense comfort when we were all 
 depressed, for although we were generally asked to remain 
 permanently and form a Station, yet nobody had yet directly 
 requested us to teach him to pray." 
 
 Elsewhere he writes : " I do not place too much stress 
 on this, and yet it seemed an earnest from heaven, and it 
 set my heart praising, and filled me with assurance that our 
 most loving Father has not forgotten us." 
 
 " We heard afterwards that we had not gone to the 
 right place from which to see the water, so the next morn- 
 ing, before the sun was up, I started ; but was soon out- 
 distanced by Stokes and a troop of men. Presently I heard 
 firing, and thinking that they had overtaken a hippo., I 
 seized my gun, and began to run, when I made the painful 
 discovery that I was quite UQable to do so. I was by this 
 time strong enough to walk for a few miles, but not twenty 
 yards could I run. I cannot describe my feelings as I 
 handed the gun to my boy and told him to run. Nor was 
 my mortification lessened by the way he dashed off. I 
 watched him disappear, wishing heartily that he would 
 occasionally move like that when I was in a hurry, and in- 
 wardly resolving that he should. By and by he returned, 
 saying that the firing was not for Nyama (game), but for 
 Furahi (joy). They had reached the Lake. I brisked up 
 at once, and soon reached the mighty Nyanza, here like a 
 duck-pond, or sluggish English river in the summer time. 
 The Nullah cannot be in this place more than a mile across, 
 for some natives came rushing down on the opposite bank 
 to see what was the matter, and we could distinctly hear 
 their voices. Only a very small portion of the intervening 
 space was water ; the rest was reedy swamp. There were 
 no canoes, and no communication seemed to be kept up 
 with other parts. ^' 
 
2o8 James Hanjtington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 They had reached the Lake at a point to the west of 
 Kagei and Jordan's Nullah, marked Msalala with a blue 
 underline on the map, bat did not yet know their exact 
 position. Writing to the Committee of the C. M. S., Han- 
 nington says : " I incline rather to our being on the west 
 side of the west channel of Jordan's Nullah. But time 
 will settle the question for us." In his diary he writes : 
 " A council of war was held. There seemed but one course 
 before us. There we were. Cloth short. A caravan still 
 behind us, nothing before us, what were we to do ? We 
 must stop where we are until Raschid comes with the boat." 
 The rainy season was upon them, so they set to work 
 at once to build huts, and in the meanwhile sent letters by 
 Kagei to U-Ganda armouncing their arrival, and telling the 
 brethren there to send canoes for them if their immediate 
 presence were required. 
 
 The ranks of the Mission party were now to be still 
 further thinned. Mr. Blackburn and Mr. Edmonds had 
 been left at Uyui to take the place of Mr. Copplestone, who 
 was about to return to England. Now Mr. Stokes went back 
 to the coast. So Hannington and Mr. Gordon sallied forth 
 to choose a good site for their tent at a place some miles from 
 the village. The journal says : " Gordon and I were quite 
 alone last night in the heart of the forest. Three or four 
 tarantulas were dashing wildly about the tent. Mosquitos 
 swarmed. Lions roared close to us during the greater part 
 of the night, four different kinds of ants made themselves at 
 home with us, and in the morning a whole stream of 
 Chunqu (bitter) ants, the largest and fiercest ants there are 
 advanced as an army into our tent. There was nothing to 
 be done but light a fire and regularly fight them, and even 
 then we had great difficulty in getting rid of the enemy. 
 In spite of these trifling drawbacks we congratulated our- 
 selves upon having pitched upon an exceedingly pleasant 
 spot, and determined as soon as possible to hedge ourselves 
 in with a fence of thorns, to prevent a buffalo or stray 
 rhinoceros from charging the tent, or a lion from slipping 
 his paw under the curtain and clawing one of us out of 
 bed." 
 
^t. 35.] Formidable Vis-a- Vis. 209 
 
 '■'■Nov. \lth. — After we had enlisted a sufficient number 
 of volunteers from the porters to remain with us, the rest 
 returned with Stokes to the coast. We were very sorry 
 to bid him farewell. His unceasing kindness had been a 
 great comfort to us, and his ability in managing the men a 
 great advantage. When he was gone a slight feeling of 
 loneliness crept over us. We felt rather like men with 
 empty pockets turned adrift in the wide world, not knowing 
 exactly where we were, or what to do next. Our instruc- 
 tions, in rough outline, were as follows : ' Ashe and Wise 
 to form a station somewhere at the end of the lake ; Gordon 
 and myself to proceed as speedily as possible to U-Ganda.' 
 Very good ; but the difficulty was that our supplies had run 
 short, and the horrors of the rainy season were upon us. 
 
 " However, the next day I dug a well with my own 
 hands, as Gordon was ill. Then, that no opportunity might 
 be wasted, I persuaded the chiefs brother to come to me to 
 learn the alphabet. How I longed to be able to talk suffi- 
 ciently well to teach the people the way of everlasting life ! " 
 
 The traveller in Africa must always depend in a large 
 measure upon his gun for a supply of fresh meat for himself 
 and his men. However unwilling he may be to take life, he 
 will find it necessary to avail himself of a halt to try and 
 replenish the camp larder. Hannington was always chary 
 about inflicting unnecessary slaughter. He had no sympathy 
 with the ambition which consumes some men to make a 
 large bag. Now and again, however, he would scour the 
 country about the encampment in search of game, and his 
 fearlessness often brought him strange adventures. 
 
 One day, as he and his boy Duta were trying to 
 stalk some antelopes, and were worming themselves on 
 hands and knees through the high grass, he saw something 
 dark ahead. He whispered to Duta: " Is that a rhinoceros 
 or a clump of bushes?" Just then the object moved, and 
 they saw that it was a black rhinoceros. Hannington 
 thus describes what followed : " Back we darted into the 
 thicket, and took a large circuit, coming out again on the 
 edge of the plain just in time '.o see a cow with her calf 
 
210 James Hamnngton. [A.D. 1882, 
 
 retiring slowly in the jungle. Quietly we crept back, and 
 again emerged, this time about twenty yards from her. Her 
 head was turned from us, and on her back were a number 
 of yellow 'rhinoceros birds.' These flew up with a screech 
 and apprised her of her enemy. Before she could spring 
 round I fired. As the bullet struck her she uttered a fierce 
 screaming grunt, and in a moment, about ten yards from 
 where I stood there rushed from the jungle a bull and 
 another cow rhinoceros bellowing most fiercely. Happily 
 for us they did not see us, as the vision of the rhinoceros is 
 very limited, and we were to leeward, so that they could not 
 get our wind. But when about thirty yards distant some 
 whifFof our wind must have reached them, for they wheeled 
 round and charged furiously towards us. ' Fire, bwana, 
 fire ! ' excitedly cried my boy ; and as he ceased speaking I 
 could hear his heart thumping loudly. ' Be still,' I said. 
 'Stand perfectly still ; ' and the lad, to his honour be it said, 
 was brave enough to obey. When about ten paces distant, 
 seeing that we remained motionless, they came to a halt, 
 and eyed us fiercely, pawing the ground and snorting 
 defiance. It was an embarrassing situation. The eye 
 wandered round for a tree up which to climb, but there was 
 not one within reach. We were standing in dense mimosa 
 tangle about chest high ; flight through this was impossible. 
 1 thought, Should 1 fire .? But I determined not to do so, 
 for even if, by the greatest good fortune, I brought one to 
 the ground, there were still the other two. They them- 
 selves at last took the initiative. The cow which I had 
 wounded stole away across the plain. I decided at once to 
 follow her and get another shot. The other two stood gazing 
 at us unt.l they saw that she had out-distanced us, and then 
 they quietly turned round and disappeared in the iunde " 
 
 Like most other African travellers, Hannington^ has a 
 hunter s joke to tell agajnst himself. As his is characteristic, 
 It IS worth repeatmg. The tangle of an African " forest " 
 IS so dense, that it is the easiest thing in the world to pass bv 
 the largest game without seeing it, or even beino- aware of 
 its vicinity. The first warning of the neighbourhood of a 
 rhinoceros or buffalo is often a furious charge from some 
 
^t. 35.] Stalking a Log ! 211 
 
 cover a few yards distant. Instances have been known in 
 which a hunter has almost stumbled over a sleeping lion, or 
 has even run right up against an elephant ! * Often the only- 
 sign of the beast which he is diligently stalking, in order 
 that he may replenish his exhausted larder and feed his 
 hungry porters, is a certain thickening in the bush which 
 suggests some solid body. It is not, therefore, odd if a 
 hunter should occasionally send his bullet into the heart of a 
 log, or to the core of an ant-hill^ or flatten it against a rock. 
 
 Here is Hannington's story. He says : " I had taken 
 my butterfly-net and accompanied Wise for a walk. We 
 had not gone far when we came to a beautiful flowering- 
 shrub, covered with insects ; and here I should have pro- 
 bably remained for the rest of the morning, had 1 not been 
 excitedly summoned by the others to come and hunt a 
 rhinoceros which they had just sighted. 'Well,' said I, 
 ' rhino or no rhino, I have just seen a new butterfly, and I 
 do not leave this spot till I have secured it.' Could anyone 
 know me so little as to suppose that I would lose the oppor- 
 tunity of capturing a new butterfly for a chance shot at a 
 rhinoceros ? So I caught and boxed my fly, and then, with 
 much elation, I seized my gun, and went in the direction 
 pointed out. Wise had not yet been face to face with big 
 game, and was in a great state of excitement, trembling 
 with combined hope and fear. We marched in single file 
 under cover of a tree ; and Wise was in such a state of 
 high pressure, that I momentarily expected the contents of 
 his barrels to lodge themselves near my calves. 
 
 " We took a hasty glance round the bush, and there, 
 sure enough, we saw a magnificent rhino, lazily eating the 
 rich herbage, and taking no notice of our approach. Back 
 we darted into cover. There was another bush about twenty 
 yards ahead : my two companions were told ofF to crawl 
 under its cover; then I was to suddenly emerge to the right, 
 and they to the left, and all to take aim and fire. If this pro- 
 duced a savage charge, there was the bush to serve as shelter 
 
 " It was an anxious moment. How would my com- 
 
 * Thomson, Through Masai Land, p. 550. 
 
213 James Hannington, [A.D. 1882. 
 
 panions conduct themselves ? Would they dodge, if neces- 
 sary ? Would they stand firm, if need be ? ' Now, then, 
 are you ready ? ' '■ Yes, quite.' ' Now for it ' 
 
 " We emerged with bated breath ; and lo ! — the 
 rhinoceros had disappeared, and there before us stood, or 
 rather lay, a fallen tree ! Who shall portray our looks ot 
 disappointed disgust and surprise ! Even my boy, a born 
 son of the forest, had been taken in." 
 
 After reading an article which I had written in The 
 C. M. Intelligencer, containing some Recollections of 
 Bishop Hannington, one of his friends objected to a lion 
 story there given, as an instance of his remarkable personal 
 courage. My friendly critic remarked that the story bore 
 on the face of it an air of improbability. If this be so, I 
 can only regret it ; but I gave the story almost word for 
 word as I received it from his own lips. I find reference 
 to the incident in his diary, as occurring on the i6th of 
 December, and venture to repeat it here, as illustrating his 
 dauntless nature. Hannington himself was always shy 
 about telling this story to any stranger, lest it should be 
 received with incredulity ; but to those who knew him 
 intimately it will not, I think, sound incredible. 
 
 Both Hannington and Gordon had been severely 
 scourged by fever; but on Dec. i6th the former felt 
 better, and he thought to take a short stroll and collect 
 some botanical specimens. At about a mile from camp he 
 saw some animal moving through the dense mimosa scrub, 
 and firing, killed it. His prey proved to be a large lion's 
 cub. The gun-bearer, seeing this, fled with every sign of 
 terror, and shouted to him to do the same. It was time 
 indeed to do so. The cries of " Run, bwana, run ! " were 
 accentuated by a double roar, and, looking round, Han- 
 nington saw the bereaved parents, a line lion and lioness, 
 coming toward him with long, bounding leaps over the 
 scrub. An ordinary man, encountering lions face to face 
 in the open for almost the first time, would probably have 
 lost all presence of mind, and, turning to run, have been 
 inevitably destroyed. He deliberately faced round upon his 
 enemy. The enraged lions were distant but a i^\N paces. 
 
jEt. 35-] Encounter with Lions. 213 
 
 but they suddenly checked, and both stood, as though 
 transfixed, glaring upon him. So they remained for some 
 time, till Hannington, placing one foot behind the other, 
 and still keeping his eyes fixed upon the yellow orbs before 
 him, gradually increased his distance, and, having placed 
 about a hundred yards between himself and the monsters, 
 quietly walked away. 
 
 But the indomitable nature of the man comes out more 
 strongly in what followed. Most men would have con- 
 cluded that they had had enough of such an adventure, 
 and have accepted their escape from the jaws of death, 
 or at least would not have renewed the contest without 
 assistance. Hannington was formed of quite another metal. 
 Though the light was waning, he determined that he would 
 return and secure the skin of the cub he had killed ; so he 
 retraced his steps. When near enough to observe their 
 motions, he could see that the lion and lioness were walking 
 round about their cub, licking its body and filling the air 
 with low growlings. At this moment an unknown flower 
 caught his eye. He plucked it, took out his note-book, 
 pressed it between the leaves, and classified it as far as he 
 was able ; then, with coolness perfectly restored, he ran 
 forward a few paces, threw up his arms and shouted ! Was 
 it that the lions had never encountered so strange an 
 antagonist before I At all events, they looked up, then 
 turned tail and bounded away. He dragged the cub for 
 some distance, till having left the dangerous vicinity, he 
 shouldered it and brought it into camp. 
 
 Acts such as these gave him unbounded influence over 
 his men. They learned to regard him as invincible, and 
 entertained a most wholesome dread of opposing his 
 expressed will. 
 
 Matters were not going well at Kagei. All failed with 
 fever, one after the other, and all at once. News, too, 
 came that Raschid, who was in charge of the boat,* was 
 
 * The boat was carried in sections as far as Jordan's Nullah, 
 ■where it remained until July, 1883, when Mr. Mackay came from 
 U-Ganda. As the boat could not be launched from Msalala, where 
 the Nullah is choked with weeds, and unnavigable, he took it to a 
 
214 James Hamiington. [A. D. 1882. 
 
 delayed, through want of cloth, at Kwa Sonda.* Raschid 
 appears, from the account, to have been a scamp. The 
 unfortunates at Msalala had expected that he would bring to 
 them a fresh supply of stores, and now, to their dismay, 
 they learnt that he had either wasted or appropriated the 
 goods entrusted to him, to such an extent that they would 
 have to send him some of their own rapidly diminishing stock. 
 It was decided that Ashe and Gordon should go to meet 
 him, and bring on his caravan, while Hannington negociated 
 with Romwa, King of U-Zinza, with a view to his assist- 
 ance in reaching the head of the lake. Romwa's capital is 
 on the shore of the lake, a kvf days' journey from Msalala. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the neighbouring chief was making 
 himself very disagreeable, and charging exorbitant prices 
 for all provisions, especially for milk. Hannington called 
 this "the milk war." 
 
 '■'•Dec. ibt/i. — The milk war opened again early this 
 morning. The first thing was the arrival of the two headmen 
 who own the cows. They came into the boma (the fence 
 about the camp), and posted themselves down without any 
 especial remark. By and by the chief's mother, wives, and 
 sisters arrived, accompanied by ladies of the court bearing a 
 present of Indian corn, which they laid respectfully at my 
 feet. This I accepted, as coming from the ladies, and gave 
 them gilt buttons to the value of the corn — for that is the 
 way one accepts a present in these parts, ^y and by, while 
 these visitors were still with us, a present of milk arrived 
 from the chief, and, lastly, the chief himself and his retinue. 
 My yard was crowded. I at once announced that I did not 
 want a present of milk, but a supply of milk every day, and 
 that I was ready to pay a fair price for it. The chief then 
 asked for a red pocket-handkerchief in return for his milk. 
 
 village in Urima, where the fragments were united. The boat was 
 launched on Dec. 3rd, 1884, and named the Eleanof (after Mr. 
 Wigram's eldest daughter). She proved to be a great success, and 
 took the Mission party safely to U-Ganda, where she received the 
 additional native name of Mirembi or Peace. 
 
 * Marked on the map Msalala. The name changes according 
 to the chief. It is now Kwa Chasama. 
 
vEt. 35-] The Milk War. 215 
 
 I told him that I had not accepted it; that I should give 
 him no present, as we were not friends, and that he was 
 trying to drive the white man out of his country ; that if he 
 persisted in his conduct he would gain his end, for we 
 should all leave. He then asked me what we should do 
 with the huts which we were building. To which I briefly 
 replied, ' Moto' (fire) ; then I expatiated upon our readiness 
 to remain with him, and that we wanted to be friends if he 
 would act fairly by us. I then asked what they would 
 arrange to supply us with milk for. He replied that if 
 we wanted milk daily, we must pay for it with red cloth. 
 This exceeded any of his former demands, and I fairly broke 
 out in wrath, and drove them all from my presence. I then 
 followed them over to Wise's as quickly as I could, but not 
 in time enough, for he came out to meet me in great 
 triumph, saying, 'I am flooded with milk to-day; see, I have 
 got this present from the chief.' This really was too pro- 
 voking. I had sat with that milk under my nose for half 
 an hour. I had refused it because I was fighting for my 
 friends, who are expecting to stop here long after I have left 
 for U-Ganda, and now all that I had done and said was frus- 
 trated. I returned to my quarters rather crestfallen and 
 worried, feeling that I had got the worst of it for the fifth 
 or sixth time. However, I think that, with a little persever- 
 ance, I shall yet bring them to terms, and the battle must 
 be fought out for the sake of the brethren who remain." 
 
 After the adventure with the lions narrated above, the 
 people of the district treated the dauntless Englishman with 
 greater respect. He had managed to recal his terrified boy 
 before he regained the camp, and after giving him a good 
 scolding for leaving him to be killed while he fled to save his 
 own bones, he made him drag the carcase of the cub for the 
 remainder of the distance home. " The boy Backit," he 
 says, "walked in perfect terror, expecting every moment 
 that the lions would hunt him down, especially as he was 
 obliged to drag the cub along the ground. Nor could he 
 sleep for two or three nights afterwards, feeling sure that 
 they would come to find their offspring. The afi^air made 
 
21 6 James Hannington. [A.D. 1882. 
 
 a great stir in the village. They would scarcely believe 
 that I had ventured to kill ' a child of the lion.' It v^as, 
 they said, a far more hazardous thing to do than killing the 
 lion himself. I almost think that nov/ 1 shall get milk sent 
 in regularly ! " 
 
 The skin of this cub, so dearly obtained, vi^as unfor- 
 tunately eaten by ants, but the tuft at the end of its tail 
 is still preserved as a trophy of one of the coolest acts of 
 deliberate hardihood ever performed by a man. 
 
 On Dec. 19th Gordon and Ashe returned with Raschid 
 and his caravan. Both were very ill, as also was Wise. 
 The whole burden for a while fell upon Hannington, who 
 was himself again failing with fever. He describes the 
 kind of work which falls to a camp leader from sunrise to 
 sunset, in his half-humorous, half-pathetic style 
 
 " Moses : ' What am I to do with this ? ' Raschid : 
 'How am I to arrange that?' 'There is rain coming; 
 how are we to manage ? ' etc., etc. Between the patients, 
 the constant worry of the caravan, and my own vexing 
 weakness, I was in the depth of despair. The boys, the 
 men, the food, all required constant looking after. Natives 
 ever coming and going, begging, buying, and selling. I got 
 through the day, for grace was sufficient. 
 
 " The next morning found all slightly better ; but before 
 I could get to Ashe, he had crept over to me full of pertur- 
 bation and bad news. Raschid and his men had announced 
 their intention of immediately leaving us. What did this 
 mean 1 Starvation. It would throw us on the exorbitant 
 natives, to whom we would have to pay ready money, in 
 the shape of cloth, instead of having the help of the coast- 
 men, whom we could always pay with promissory notes 
 upon our agent at Zanzibar. The men had been told that 
 they might return when Raschid went back, but we had 
 anticipated that he would remain with us until our winter 
 huts were completed, and a temporary station formed. 
 I pleaded with the men, and put the matter in every pos- 
 sible light before them, but all without avail. They thought 
 that they had us in their power, and, in African fashion, 
 
^t. 35.] Turning the Tables. 217 
 
 they meant to use it. ' Will you go?' 'Yes.' Suddenly 
 I bounded from my seat, and said, ' Then go — go at once^ 
 instantly leave my presence, and go ; but you go as run- 
 aways ! ' The afternoon brought messages that they did 
 not exactly wish to leave us on those terms, and that they 
 supposed they must stop." 
 
 An interview with the men settled the matter satisfac- 
 torily. They consented to remain without Raschid and the 
 malcontents, so he and his ill-conditioned crew were suffered 
 to depart. The same day brought a message from Romwa 
 that he would assist the Mission party to the utmost of his 
 power, and supply them with canoes for the voyage up 
 the lake. His terms seemed to Hannington, who had 
 grown wise by this time in the wily ways of African chiefs, 
 too liberal to be altogether satisfactory ; however, it was 
 decided that he and iVIr. Gordon should visit Romwa's 
 capital, leaving the others in charge of the station at 
 Msalala. 
 
CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 THE LAKE. 
 (1882-83.) 
 
 " He that hath so many causes of joy is very much in love with 
 sorrow and peevishness if he loses all these pleasures and chooses 
 to sit down on his own little handful of thorns." — JER. TAYLOR. 
 
 '■'■ Christmas Day, 1882. — Gordon very ill in bed. Ashe 
 and Wise tottering out of fever beds ; I myself just about 
 to totter in again. In spite of our poor condition, we 
 determined to have our Christmas cheer. We had a happy 
 celebration of the Holy Communion at 8 a.m., and thought 
 much of the dear ones at home, praying for us and vi^ishing 
 us true Christmas joy.^' 
 
 There, in the heart of the great wilderness, that little 
 band of fever- stricken men assembled together, and for a 
 while forgot their loneliness and their pains as they offered 
 up their Sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving. There in the 
 dark land, where the shadow of spiritual death hung like 
 a heavy pall which might be seen and felt, they drew near 
 with faith and took that Holy Sacrament to their comfort. 
 With angels and archangels, and with all the company of 
 heaven ; with the Church of Christ scattered throughout 
 the world, they raised their weary voices to laud and 
 magnify His Holy Name, who had sent His dear Son, Jesus 
 Christ, that their bodies might be made clean by His Body, 
 and their souls washed through His most precious blood. 
 And as they ate and drank the holy symbols there, in the 
 tangled forest, amidst wild beasts and wilder men, they felt that 
 neither time nor space could separate them from their fellow- 
 worshippers who also on that day were making their Eucha- 
 ristic Feast ; but that they being many were one bread, and 
 one body, for were they not all partakers of That One Bread ! 
 
jEt. 35-] Christmas in the Desert. 219 
 
 They then resolved to keep up home traditions as best 
 they could. Hannington writes : — 
 
 " In spite of our poor plight, we determined to celebrate 
 the day ; so I killed a kid, and Ashe undertook the pudding. 
 As to the pudding, I am sure that many a cottager had a 
 better one, but I doubt if any enjoyed theirs much more 
 than we did ours. Its drawbacks were certainly not few. 
 The flour was both musty and full of beetles and their 
 larvae; the raisins had fermented; the pudding was under- 
 boiled, and yet boiled enough to have stuck to the bottom of 
 the saucepan, whereby its lower vitals had sulTered consi- 
 derably ; and yet a musty, fermented, underdone, and burnt 
 mass of dough was such a real treat that day, that I cannot 
 remember ever to have enjoyed a Christmas pudding half so 
 much. We felt quite cruel in denying a slice to Gordon, 
 who was not in a fit condition for such delicacies." 
 
 A move was made in the direction of Romwa's on the 
 30th of December. By this time the C. M. S. camp was 
 in a sad state of destitution. Owing to the roguery of 
 Raschid, they were now almost entirely without cloth ; 
 anglice, they were almost penniless. 
 
 To be penniless in Africa is to be destitute indeed. In 
 no country in the world is the rule of nothing for nothing 
 more rigorously adhered to. Hannington was soon to have 
 an illustration of this. When he reached JUkola's village 
 with Gordon, the others following some distance behind, he 
 found himself without cloth. He says: "It began to pour 
 with rain, and we had no better refuge than a tree. I tried 
 in vain to purchase something to eat, but could only suc- 
 ceed in getting one old woman to trust us with a little milk, 
 which we shared." The rest of the party did not come up, 
 and seemed to have lost themselves. " We were utterly 
 bewildered and exhausted, for we had had no food for 
 eighteen hours. Before following any decided course of 
 action, I said I would take my bed under a distant tree and 
 get a little rest, for my soul fainted within me. I had, 
 however, scarcely composed myself, when my boy, Duta, 
 
220 James Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 came from Ashe, saying that they had mistaken the road and 
 were some two or three miles ahead. At once we started. 
 A rhinoceros charging across the path rather revived me ; 
 and in about two hours we came up with Ashe, who was 
 encamped by the edge of the water ; and soon we had our 
 first boiling of anything like drinkable water since leavmg 
 Uyui last October, So we spent the rest of this the last 
 day of 1882 in peace and happiness, praising our loving 
 Father who had strengthened and protected us thus far." 
 
 The next day, New Year's Day, 1883, the canoe 
 journey to Romwa's should have commenced, but as Mr. 
 Wise was sick, and could not superintend the porters, they 
 lefrhalf their loads behind them at the old camp, and had 
 to be sent back several times before all was gathered up. 
 The captain of the canoe also began to give proof that he 
 was capable of making trouble. He demanded extra fare 
 before he would consent to move. 
 
 '■'■Jan. 2nd. — The things arrived early, but one load, the 
 most important of all, was left behind, and yet again we had 
 to send back. Again the old man of the sea refused to 
 start, saying that his canoe leaked. I had an attack of 
 dysentery, but as Ashe and Wise were both incapacitated 
 by sickness, everything fell on me, I selected a itvf 
 packages, and had them stored in the canoe, at the same 
 time bidding the Mzee * remember that I had ten more to 
 come. At 2 a.m. he called me up and said we must start. 
 Well, unearthly as this hour was, I got up, saw to every- 
 thing, cooked my brethren some food, had the tent taken 
 down, and the things taken to the boat, when Mzee turned 
 round and declared that he had no room for the luggage, and 
 refused to start till daylight. This meant that my sick com- 
 panions and I should sit about in dewy grass for some 
 three hours. My patience now broke down, and I said that, 
 Mzee or no Mzee, I would start. Hereupon he and his 
 crew rushed to the boat and began tearing out the baggage. 
 
 * "Kiswahili for ' old man.' The captain of the canoe was 
 always called Mzee. I translated this somewhat freely ' the old 
 man of the sea,' as he was so excessively troublesome." 
 
^t. 35.] TJie Old Man of the Sea. 221 
 
 A fearful scrimmage ensued, during which I trod into a 
 colony' of ants, and got wofully punished. Everything was 
 mixed up so that we could not tell what we had taken, and 
 what we had left, and eventually many packages we could ill 
 spare were left behind. However, we did get off about 
 4 a.m.^ a hippo blowing a salute as we started. We had not 
 gone far when a loud bang startled us, and, looking up, I 
 saw two legs of my only chair flying upwards. My stupid 
 boy had placed his gun loaded and full cocked into the 
 canoe. My best waterproof rug was cut in half, the side of 
 the canoe broken, and my chair spoilt. Happily no one was 
 hurt. I am very angry, and at once have all the guns 
 secured, but forget the pistols. 
 
 " Our next escapade is to rob some natives. Our men 
 spy a small canoe, to which they at once give chase, and 
 hunt it down, A goat was handed over, and transferred to 
 our boat. I thought that they were merely having a chat 
 or friendly barter, for the thing was done as quietly as 
 possible, and we went on our way. It was not until some 
 time after that it came out that the goat had been forced 
 from its owner. When I expressed my horror, I was 
 informed that Mtesa's men are accustomed to act in this 
 manner ! 
 
 " The scenery now becomes very beautiful and varied. 
 Cormorants, darters, belted kingfishers, and a very small 
 blue kingfisher, with a bright red breast and dark blue back, 
 constantly cross our track. Crocodiles and hippos float 
 lazily on the surface. We land for lunch. Bananas and 
 milk abound. The people all flock down to see the first 
 white men who have ever passed that way. The greatest 
 excitement prevails. They pull our hair and beards ; they 
 want to know if my boots grow to my feet, etc., etc. Their 
 chief wears an expression of delight beyond bounds at six 
 needles with which I present him. At sunset we en- 
 camped for the night. Gordon had to be lifted out of the 
 boat. Ashe crept out and at once went to bed. There was 
 no firewood. After an hour's search I found a little, and 
 bought some more, and then superintended the cooking, for 
 the boys were all worn out. Then came Mzee, and said 
 
222 James Hanningion, [A.D- i°°3- 
 
 that I must get the things out of the canoe, as it Jeaked. 
 And so it did, and most of the cloth was wet through. 
 It was very dark, we had but one candle, and the air was so 
 thick with mosquitoes that one might almost have cut a 
 slice from it with a knife. At last the bales were got out, 
 and I sat down to enjoy a well-earned meal, when Duta 
 came and called me from the tent and said that the men 
 refused to go further unless they were paid extra cloth, and 
 from what he had heard he thought they meant to desert us. 
 I kept this from the brethren to spare them any extra 
 anxiety, but slept little that night. However, daylight found 
 the men still there. Three valuable hours were spent in 
 haggling, and in the end I had to agree to pay them more 
 cloth. At 1 1 a.m. we started. We had not gone far when 
 a storm gathered, and we put into port ; and only just in 
 time, for a fearful hurricane burst upon us. Great waves, 
 like those of the sea, rose almost in an instant, and beat 
 upon the shore, washing up weeds and shells, ^j and by 
 we went on. We passed a rocky little island completely 
 surrounded by crocodiles drifting about on the surface, and 
 one huge monster, which had been basking in the sun, 
 rolled lazily into the water and disappeared as we approached. 
 By and by three hippos put their huge heads above water 
 and snorted at us. They followed the canoe for a consider- 
 able distance. The hippos of the lake are sometimes very 
 savage and dangerous. I felt no temptation to have a swim. 
 The sun then sank into the west, and we were still at sea. 
 I looked at the pale faces of the invalids, I looked at the 
 luggage, the tent, my helpless boys, and the savage ruffians 
 in the canoe, and my heart rather sank. We did not reach 
 the camping place which the boatmen had selected until 
 8 p.m. It was so dark that it was some time before we 
 could find a break in the reeds through which we might 
 wade ashore, and when we landed the place was so rocky 
 and wet that the tent could not be pitched. We crept on 
 about half a mile till we reached a hut. We begged admit- 
 tance, and the owner liberally said that we might occupy 
 the goat-house. ' Impossible ! ' said I, as I beheld the 
 thatched-in manure heap, ankle deep in mire, so we returned 
 

 fc^l.^. 
 
 f 
 
 
 fe^ 
 
 
 lii.^f. 
 
^t. 35.] A Canoe Voyage on the Nyanza. 223 
 
 tottering and stumbling and down-hearted to the boat. But 
 here things were so hopeless that we again made request for 
 admittance to the hut. This time the native, seeing my 
 companions' woeful faces, generously vacated his dwelling, 
 and we slept in the open air within his enclosure, 
 
 "At a a.m. rain came on, and the invalids took to the 
 hut, but I preferred wrapping myself in my waterproof and 
 facing it. When daylight dawned, I found to my despair 
 that the canoe had sunk during the night, and that almost 
 everything we had was drenched. It was hard to think that 
 notebooks, barometers, botanical specimens, etc., were all 
 injured and some spoiled. But the man who goes to Central 
 Africa must learn ' to take joyfully the spoiling of his goods.' 
 The old man of the sea and his crew refused to bale the 
 canoe out, so the boys and I set to work in pouring rain, 
 and by eleven o'clock the weather broke and we started. 
 Very soon the clouds reformed, though evidently only for 
 soft rain, but the men turned the head of the canoe towards 
 a deep bay, and stated their intention of landing us there 
 and taking us no further. ' Should we find canoes there ? ' 
 « No.' ' Was it far from Romwa's ? ' ' Yes ; altogether 
 out of the way.' ' Why, we shall die if we are left in this 
 way.' ' Well, Mzee says he will not go on.' Then I said 
 in a firm, clear voice, ' Give me my gun.' I deliberately 
 proceeded to load it, and pointing at Mzee at about a yard 
 distant from his chest, I said : 
 
 " ' Noiu, will you go on ? ' 
 
 " ' Yes, Bwana, yes ; don't fire ! ' The effect was magi- 
 cal ; round flew the head of the canoe, once more we speeded 
 over the waves ; and a few minutes later his own men were 
 imitating my solemn gestures, and laughing at me, confessing 
 that, after all, they were very glad that I had made them go 
 on. But I had found out a secret — I was, from that moment, 
 the master, and it is not too much to say that our lives were 
 saved by that one prompt action. I could now afford to be 
 generous, and so promised the men a goat when they landed 
 if they behaved themselves well. The offer was received 
 with joyous acclamations, and we paddled shoreward for 
 lunch, thinking all trouble over. When lunch was finished 
 
224 Jamei_Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 and a start made, they coolly said that they would go no 
 further than the next village, and then leave us. I made no 
 comment, thinking that I would get there first. To our 
 great delight, when we landed we found that the men whom 
 we had sent overland had hit upon this spot, so that now we 
 had a small army of men to dry our goods, pitch tent, and get 
 things in order. We further learned that Romwa's capital 
 was close at hand. A messenger from Romwa himself soon 
 arrived, and we thought that all trouble was past. Alas ! 
 . . . . Well, first we were detained two days, during 
 which Romwa made medicine, and consulted oracles as to 
 whether the white men would harm him. The Delphian 
 reply was, ' The white men are good for you and for your 
 people, but injurious to the medicine men.' Then Romwa 
 was not content with his present. Asked why I had sent 
 him such a rubbishing present. He was a great Sultan ; he 
 wanted cloth and guns. This was a bitter pill, but we 
 resolved not to yield. 
 
 "On Sunday, the 7th, I failed with severe fever, but 
 could not give way to it, for somebody must see the matter 
 through. I only remember suffering more pain. Romwa 
 sent to ask the white men to come and visit him, and next 
 day a start was made. No sooner had we got fairly off than 
 I perceived that there was a terrible leak in the canoe, and 
 that the canoemen were drunk. We landed and repaired the 
 mischief, and the men plied themselves with more pombe 
 (native wine) which they had brought with them. The 
 result was that when we resumed our way they were worse 
 than ever, and yelled and screamed until my poor comrades 
 were overcome by the fearful noise. The captain then 
 stood up and executed a war dance upon a bale of goods, 
 ending by falling upon me. This was mere than I could 
 stand, so I gave him a needed warning and said that next 
 time he should have a cold bath. In a rage he ordered his 
 men to land us at once. This they refused to do, fearino- 
 Romwa, and perhaps my wrath more than the captain^s^ 
 Then a free fight commerced, which ended in the captain 
 falling overboard. He climbed in again, and furiously 
 seizing a paddle, aimed a heavy blow, as I thought, at Ashe, 
 which happilyjust missed him, but shivered thepaddleto pieces. 
 
yEt. 35.J A Mutinous Crexv — Rovnva. 225 
 
 " Believe me, ill as I was, I bounded from my seat, 
 seized him, pulled him down and dared him to move. I was 
 proceeding to further measures when one of the men took 
 me and gently forced me back into my seat, and then pro- 
 ceeded to pat me on the back and talk in this fashion : 
 ' White man, be calm, be calm ; gently, gently ; don't dis- 
 turb yourself. We will go on ; indeed we will. White 
 man, be calm ; quietly, quietly, quietly.' With each word 
 he administered a gentle pat, until at last I fairly burst out 
 laughing, and the April shower of wrath fled before the sun- 
 shine of mirth." 
 
 "_/««. <^th. — Romwa sent word that he was coming to 
 see us, so we made ready to receive his majesty suitably. 
 Presently a great noise was heard, and, looking out, we saw 
 a long procession of medicine men carrying horns full of 
 rancid butter, probably mixed with blood ; then came 
 Romwa himself, an immensely tall man, not much short of 
 seven feet ; then wives, councillors, and medicine men ad 
 lib. We were asked to place his chair in the centre of the 
 tent, and as soon as he had seated himself, the horns were 
 planted in the ground all round him to protect him from the 
 white man's witcheries. Nor was this enough. As an 
 additional safeguard, the monarch had anointed himself with 
 castor oil from head to foot. Never had we been witness to 
 such a scene of superstition, nor, I think I may add, smelt 
 such a perfume, 
 
 " Romwa was anxious that we should stay and build, but 
 he soon got upon the universal subject of give. I told him 
 that I had a very handsome robe for him, but no cloth and 
 no guns, whereupon he rose in a passion and stalked off, 
 saying he was a great chief and would have a great present. 
 We were betrayed. Instead of the mild sage we had been 
 led to suppose him, we saw the royal savage in his true 
 colours. And yet, in spite of his being one of the worst 
 men we had to deal with, there was something in him that 
 I loved. When alone with me and free for a few minute£ 
 from the influence of his medicine men, he would grow 
 kindly, would feel my pulse and pat my fevered brow." 
 
 Romwa continued to demand guns, which the Mission 
 
 15 
 
226 James Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 party steadily refused, though their lives were made a burden 
 to them by the exactions of their host. Hannington, speaking 
 of that first day, savs : " The day ends. Never,! think, did 
 I pass through one much worse, for, in addition to the 
 incessant worry, I was very seriously ill, having to speak 
 constantlv when utterly unfit to do so." 
 
 " iQtJi. — A terrible night of fever, and inclined to be 
 delirious. Romwa arrived early, and in rather a better 
 temper than yesterday. He gave permission for us to move 
 up the hill, as our present situation is very low. I had 
 several semi-faints while moving, but managed to walk up 
 the hill, only collapsing twice on the way up. It was a most 
 lovely spot. We pitched our tents upon a rocky eminence 
 clothed with beautiful foliage, from whence we gazed out 
 upon the broad expanse of the mighty inland sea. ' 
 
 The next day Romwa repeated his demands for presents. 
 He took a fancy to Duta's gun, and requested that it might 
 be sent to him at once. Hannington absolutely refused. 
 He said that nothing should be taken by force from his ser- 
 vant. Romwa, seeing that he was firm, offered Duta two 
 inferior guns in exchange. The frightened boy unwillingly 
 consented, and Romwa appeared in the distance, afraid to 
 expose himself to witchcraft, but shouting his orders from a 
 neighbouring rock. As soon as the gun was taken from 
 Duta, Hannington ordered the tent to be struck, and stated 
 that his party would at once leave the country. Romvi'a 
 shouted back that, in that case, they would have to pay two 
 hundred cloths as hongo, as they would not leave as friends. 
 Hannington rephed that, rather than be so treated, he would 
 pay and go. Romwa now perceived that he had <rone too far, 
 and sent a more conciliatory message, but they told him that 
 they were fully determmed not to remain unless they were 
 allowed perfect liberty to come a,,d go as thev liked, and 
 were guaranteed against extortion. To emphas'ize this, the 
 tent was struck. Komwa now gave in, and granted all they 
 asked, but for some time they were in a vei/a^kward posi- 
 
 tion, and felt that they were kept there ns -, 1 ■ . 
 
 • J . u- TT ^ kind of staic 
 
 prisoners, and at his mercy. However, at last h V 
 
 consented that Hannington should proceed by hi*^ ^ If ^ 
 
ALL 35.] 
 
 A Nocturnal Visitor. 
 
 227 
 
 U-Ganda, upon condition that the others remained. On 
 Jan. 22nd, he accordingly started in a canoe with two of 
 his boys. The usual procrastination delayed the start, and 
 by midnight the canoe and its occupants had not made much 
 way. Hannington says : " We crept quietly ashore, un- 
 certain whether the people were friendly or not. A storm 
 on the lake had drenched all our things. I had my wet bed 
 and blankets carried up a little way from the swamp-belt of 
 the lake. The boys and men were afraid to remain with 
 me so far from the canoe, so I laid my weary frame to rest 
 
 under my umbrella, for it was raining, and unmindful of 
 natives or beasts of prey, I commended myself to the care of 
 the Almighty and fell asleep. Soon a tremendous roar close 
 to my head caused me to start wide awake. What could it 
 be — a lion? No; lions are not so noisy. It was only a 
 hippopotamus. - He had, no doubt, come up to feed, and 
 stumbled nearly on top of this strange object, a sleeping 
 white man with an umbrella over his head ; so bellowing 
 out his surprise he made off for the lake." 
 
 Hannington''s sketch, of which the subjoined is a not un- 
 faithful reproduction, does not altogether give the idea of a 
 
228 James Hdnnington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 night scene, but is otherwise very graphic, and illustrates not 
 only the incident, but the humorous good temper with 
 which he was accustomed to regard the discomforts and 
 perils of a missionary life. 
 
 " Before daybreak we were off, and soon reached Kagei. 
 I was welcomed by the Arab chief, Sayed bin Saif — ' the 
 white man's friend ' — and as I was seated, sipping some 
 delicious coffee, a strange white man stood before me. I 
 sprang to my feet, only to hear, ' Bon jour, Monsieur. C'est 
 M. Hannington, n'est-ce pas ? ' and then I knew that I was 
 in the presence of one of the French Jesuits. They had 
 recently left U-Ganda, and had much to tell me of our 
 party at Rubaga, who were anxiously expecting my arrival. 
 
 " %\tJi. — I had no sooner finished my usual cup of 
 milk and porridge, than one of the priests arrived and bade 
 me to breakfast. I expected a cup of coffee, but found 
 d^jeilner a la fourchette^ and at six o'clock the hospitable 
 priests, again provided for me a sumptuous dinner. They 
 were very brotherly and kind." 
 
 Sayed bin Sair also treated Hannington right royally 
 during his short stay at Kagei, and kept his table supplied 
 with delicacies. 
 
 He says : " To-day being Sunday, he sent me an extra 
 grand spread. A chicken stuffed with almonds and raisins ; 
 a rich cake beautifully prepared with honey, and I have no 
 doubt he would have sent me a second edition at night, but 
 when he called to see how I was, I begged him to send no 
 more to-day, as I had had enough for both meals." 
 
 When Mr. Gordon arrived, the large-hearted Arab sent 
 him a special dish of curried beef, with rice banked up on 
 it, mixed with laisins and all manner of curious spices. 
 Hannington says ; " This change of food has benefited us ; 
 we have scarcely tasted meat for three months." 
 
 " I now began," he writes, " to prepare for the journey 
 onward to Rubaga. Resolving not to return to Romwa's. 
 I sent canoes to try and bring off Gordon and Ashe, if 
 necessary, even by stealth. However, in a favourable mood, 
 Romwa consented to their departure ; so Ashe returned tc 
 
^t. 35.] Hospitality of the French Priests. 229 
 
 Msalala, and Gordon joined me at Kagei. We then agreed 
 that I should go round by land to A-Isalala and bring the 
 remainder of our goods to Kagei ; after which we hoped, 
 both of us, to be able to proceed to Buganda. 
 
 ''''Jan. TptJt. — Took leave of the French priests and 
 Sayed bin Saif. The latter was suffering from headache, and 
 was greatly delighted with some 'sherbet' (Eno's Fruit 
 Salt) which I gave him. I also presented him with our 
 barometer, an article which I knew he was most ambitious to 
 possess. 1.30, started with six men, a slave of the Arab's, 
 and a guide, with my faithful Duta and Ibrahim. Walked 
 till 4, and camped in a very pretty village in U-Sukuma." 
 
 "• I had to cross U-Rima, in parts of which they had never 
 seen a white man before. I had no reason to suppose that 
 they would molest me. However, on Feb. 4th, a number ot 
 warriors, almost two hundred, turned out and surrounded 
 me. The least show of resistance or of fear on our part 
 might easily have been fatal. They peremptorily ordered me to 
 stop and pitch my tent, and then they surrounded me with a 
 cordon of armed men to prevent my escape. In the mean- 
 while they despatched runners to the chief of U-Rima, to tell 
 him that they had captured a white man^ and to ask what they 
 should do with him. I was kept in this durance vile for the 
 whole day, but I punished the rough soldiers around me, and 
 myself not a little, by sulking within my closed tent, so that 
 they were unable to inspect either me or my things. Just 
 about sunset an ambassador arrived from the chief, demand- 
 ing a present. I assured him that I had nothing suitable 
 with me, whereupon he replied that he must be convinced 
 that I spoke the truth. So, accordingly, I had to show hirr 
 all I possessed. At my blanket — you know my blanket, it 
 has been my companion for fifteen years — he paused. ' He 
 must have.that blanket, BwanaMkubwa (great master).' I 
 said, ' The white man is cold ; he wants much clothes. If 
 you take his blanket he will die. When the sun is gone to 
 rest the v/hitc man grows chill. Leave him his blanket.' 
 The earnestness of my eloquence prevailed, and the next day I 
 was permitted to depart on condition that a messenger should 
 accompany me to recei\'e a present when we reached Msalala. 
 
230 James Hannington. [A.D- i^^^' 
 
 " Then arose a question about canoes to cross 
 Nullah. At first they were denied, but after a great deal or 
 palaver, my arguments again prevailed. A council o war- 
 on an occasion of this kind was really a fine sight. 1 would 
 sit on my bed in the tent and have the curtains at both ends 
 flung aside. Then the ambassador would take the seat ot 
 honour next to me, his chief attendants near him, while 
 close to me would be my men and boys. All around the 
 tent without would crowd a throng of breathless hsteners. 
 I would tell my head man in Kiswahili what I wanted, and 
 this he would translate in Kirima to the ambassador. He 
 would say three or four words only at a time, snapping his 
 fingers between each sentence, and further pausing for the 
 audience to exclaim ' Baba.' As for example : ' The great 
 white man ' (' Baba ! ') ' has come a longdistance ' (' Baba ! '). 
 ' He has come to teach the black man ' (' Baba I Baba ! 
 Baba!'). 'He asks the black man to be kind '(' Baba ! ' 
 rather feebly) ; and so on ; and if he spoke for an hour, na 
 one would move, or interrupt, or object until he had con- 
 cluded. Then all eyes would be turned to the ambassador, 
 who in the same solemn way would state his objections. 
 The first council of this kind is amusing enough, but when 
 they come to be repeated two or three times a day, oner's 
 patience is most sorely taxed. The patience required in 
 dealing with Africans is almost superhuman." 
 
 All this time Hannington was in great distress of body. 
 The very day after he left Kagei he wrote in his diary : 
 " Very ill with dysentery and violent internal pain. My 
 liver, too, is in such a state that I have to walk with my 
 hands tied to my neck to prevent my arms movinsr, as their 
 least motion gives me intense pain." And so on^from day 
 to day, ever from bad to worse, till, fainting and exhausted 
 with cruel sufl^ering, he barely crawled to his friend's tent at 
 Msalala. He had struggled long and gamely, but his weak- 
 ness now came upon him suddenly like an armed man • he 
 could no longer hide from himself the bitter truth ; and the 
 brave heart which had so long supported him at last o-ave 
 way. He confessed that he was "done." 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BEATEN BACK. 
 
 (1883.) 
 
 " In la sua voluntade 6 nostra pace." 
 
 In His will is our peace. Dante. 
 
 "Joie, pleurs de joie; renonciation totale at douce." 
 
 Pascal. 
 
 When Hannington bade farewell to his friends at Kagei 
 and started for Msalala, no one would have been more' 
 incredulous than himself had it been suggested that he was 
 also bidding farewell to Africa. But it was even so. His 
 struggles against those increasing symptoms by which an 
 over-wrought nature was giving him notice of her inability 
 longer to endure the strain put upon her, had been heroic. 
 He had refused to believe that he was to be stopped before 
 he reached his destination, and had set his face desperately 
 toward the distant goal beyond the lake. But it began now 
 to dawn upon his reluctant mind that he was beaten. 
 
 Racked with fever ; torn by dysentery, scarce able to 
 stand upright under the grip of its gnawing agony ; with his 
 arms lashed to his neck lest their least movement should 
 cause intolerable anguish to his diseased and swollen liver — 
 the bright and buoyant figure which had so often led the 
 caravan with that swinging stride of his, or which had for- 
 gotten fatigue at the close of a long march, and dashed off 
 in pursuit of some rare insect — 
 
 " His beard a foot before him, and his hair a yard behind," 
 
 was now bent and feeble, like that of a very old man. 
 
 Very pitiful is it to read the following — the words sound 
 like a groan : " I am, I regret to say, beginning to look 
 backwards. My life has become a burden to me. Oh, it 
 
CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 BEATEN BACK. 
 
 (1883.) 
 
 " In la sua voluntade 6 nostra pace." 
 
 In His will is our peace. Dante. 
 
 "Joie, pleurs de joie; renonciation totale et douce." 
 
 Pascal. 
 
 When Hannington bade farewell to his friends at Kagei 
 and started for Msalala, no one would have been more' 
 incredulous than himself had it been suggested that he was 
 also bidding farewell to Africa. But it was even so. His 
 struggles against those increasing symptoms by which an 
 over-wrought nature was giving him notice of her inability 
 longer to endure the strain put upon her, had been heroic. 
 He had refused to believe that he was to be stopped before 
 he reached his destination, and had set his face desperately 
 toward the distant goal beyond the lake. But it began now 
 to dawn upon his reluctant mind that he was beaten. 
 
 Racked with fever ; torn by dysentery, scarce able to 
 stand upright under the grip of its gnawing agony ; with his 
 arms lashed to his neck lest their least movement should 
 cause intolerable anguish to his diseased and swollen liver — 
 the bright and buoyant figure which had so often led the 
 caravan with that swinging stride of his, or which had for- 
 gotten fatigue at the close of a long march, and dashed ofP 
 in pursuit of some rare insect — 
 
 " His beard a foot before him, and his hair a yard behind," 
 
 was now bent and feeble, like that of a very old man. 
 
 Very pitiful is it to read the following — the words sound 
 like a groan : " I am, I regret to say, beginning to look 
 backwards. My life has become a burden to mc. Oh, it 
 
232 ]ai!ies Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 should not be." When at last he reached Msalala, after a 
 week's painful travel, he unburdened his heart to Mr. Ashe. 
 
 "The reply was, 'Listen to a letter which I have 
 written to the Committee about you.' It ran somewhat as 
 follows : ' Hannington is pressing on against all our advice : 
 it he still lives, I look upon it as your duty to recal him.' " 
 
 There can be no doubt that Mr. Ashe was right. To 
 have persisted under such circumstances would have been 
 little short of suicide, " So," writes Hannington, " with a 
 heart bowed with disappointment, I consented to leave those 
 brave men to bear the burden and heat of the day by them- 
 selves. Yet, though deeply thankful for a spared life, I 
 have never ceased to regret that, in a weak moment, I looked 
 back." 
 
 To Mr. Wigram he wrote in a very broken-hearted 
 way : " I dread to write to you, because my letter is one of 
 the keenest disappointment, and contains no good news. 
 I am not dull at my broken health and the constant 
 pain I suffer. 1 am not dull at the very slight prospect, 
 from a human point of view, that I shall ever reach home. 
 I am dull that I have been permitted to do so little for the 
 Society. I am dull because I think that a few pounds extra 
 in outfit would have made an immense difference to me. If 
 I live a little longer I will write a short list of things that I 
 have personally suffered much from not having. £^io will, 
 I think, cover them all. 1 blame no one. It was simply 
 a matter of want of experience. But, alas ! it costs both 
 myself and the Society much, for I am a practical failure, 
 and I have suffered terribly. Forgive me. ... I hope 
 my heart is full of praise for the tender mercies of the Lord. 
 Even to-day I have; experienced that." 
 
 Hannington now made arrangements, with a sad heart 
 enough, for his departure. He arranged that Mr. Ashe 
 should take his place, and accompany Mr. Gordon to 
 Rubaga. He established Mr. Wise at Kagei. He received 
 a deputation from the wily Romwa, who, " like Pharaoh, 
 regretted that he had let the people go." Then, having put 
 everything in as good order as he was able, and committed 
 his fellow-workers and their Holy Cause to the keeping of 
 
^t. 35.] Retreat. 233 
 
 his God, he threw himself into the same strong Hands, and, 
 turning his face away from the great lake, commenced the long 
 and weary journey to the distant coast. Alas! how different 
 was the aspect of that wild country to him now to the seem- 
 ing of the land when he had entered it seven months before. 
 Tlieii it was the land of hope, and every step of the march 
 over that seven or eight hundred miles of forest, morass, and 
 desert — from the moment when he leapt into the water and 
 waded ashore at Saadani, to that in which he gazed upon the 
 waters of the Victoria Nyanza — had been lighted up by the 
 gladness of his own heart, and the thought that every stage of 
 the journey was one march nearer the sphere of his work. 
 Now, he was returning, a disappointed man — in his own 
 opinion, and that of his friends, appointed to die. He 
 writes to Mr. Wigram from Uyui : "The rainy season is 
 just at its worst. Blackburn is going to see me on my way. 
 Perhaps it won't be far. I am going on and on, but against 
 hope ; I am now a complete wreck. Do not make this 
 public, for I do not wish my wife to see this mail. I have 
 much want to write but can't." So he writes in disjointed 
 sentences ; and, from the quavering formation of the charac- 
 ters and the straggling trend of the lines, the reader of that 
 letter can easily surmise his extreme weakness and exhaus- 
 tion. It is wonderful to note how, under such circum- 
 stances, he still continued to look at things from their bright 
 side, and to take advantage of every happy or humorous 
 incident of the journey for future description and delinea- 
 tion. In him the old proverb, " There is life for a living 
 one," found its most literal illustration. 
 
 But we must give a few extracts from his own journal. 
 
 '■'■Feb. gth. — I have arranged to start to-day from 
 Msalala. It was a sad moment saying good-bye to Ashe 
 and Duta." 
 
 As we have seen, Hannington possessed a wonderful 
 gift of attracting to himself the devoted attachment of 
 young men. His English servant had thrown his arms 
 about his neck and wept passionately when he left Hurst- 
 pierpoint ; his black boys, also, felt and owned his in- 
 
234 James Hammigton. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 fluence. Duta was no exception. When left alone with 
 him upon one occasion, Hannington wrote of him in the 
 following terms : " I am now under the most tender care 
 of my faithful boy. However ill, I should be content to 
 be in his hands. The Lord has indeed blessed me in this 
 respect, for none of the others have been able to get on 
 with their boys." 
 
 " iitli^ Sunday. — I had the Service to myself, and was 
 refreshed by it and the pleasant rest. I have tried to hire 
 men to carry me, but cannot conscientiously afford their 
 price. 
 
 "I2//^. — Started at daybreak, and soon entered the 
 plain. It was covered with thick grass, wringing wet with 
 dew and higher than one's head, and there was water in 
 most places up to the ankles ; elsewhere mud of the most 
 horrible consistence. No Sussex fallow ever bound more 
 tenaciously. The detonations were as loud sometimes as 
 pistol-pops as the foot was drawn out and the air rushed 
 into the deep hole in which it had been imbedded. Several 
 times I thought I must give up before the three hours' 
 march was over. Then came a second plain, with even 
 worse ground and more water. One of those tropical 
 showers came on, accompanied by thunder and lightning, 
 and we took refuge in a native hut, while the ground literally 
 ran with water. 
 
 " 13///. — I was so exhausted yesterday that I thought it 
 advisable to try to get carried to-day, but could not succeed 
 in making an arrangrement, so walked as far as the little 
 Sultan's. They were at war. Two corpses lay in the 
 path, evidently only just killed. One was headless. On 
 arriving at the village, I found the people in the most 
 turbulent and excited state, just starting upon another raid. 
 One old man, of disgusting and truculent aspect, and with a 
 piece of the brain of the beheaded man tied to his hair and 
 hanging down upon his forehead, was addressing a wild mob. 
 I am failing with fever, and have a splitting headache. The 
 drums are beating and the people incessantly yelling. The 
 little Sultan took up his abode in my tent, and wanted 
 
/Et. 35-] -A Village at JVar. 235 
 
 everything. Fortunately, he was sufficiently amused to let 
 me go on with my writing. While I am writing these 
 words he has got hold of my breechloader in one hand, and 
 is making a raid upon the arrowroot box with the other. 
 To my great terror, my gold spectacles are next on his 
 nose, and he is asking to go for a walk in them, and to be 
 allowed to carry the gun. I can't very well refuse, so I 
 follow him and see him, so caparisoned, join in the war- 
 dance of his warriors. The war-dance was most ferocious. 
 The warriors, all armed to the teeth, make a sham attack, 
 then they retire, and the women rush in and encourage 
 them, yelling with their shrill voices like demons. The 
 drums beat with incessant fury, while guns are discharged 
 and bullets whizz past in the most promiscuous manner. 
 It was no small satisfaction to me when, at last, the 
 warriors retired to the proper field of battle, and left the 
 village in comparative peace. 
 
 " 14I/1. — Dysentery and extreme exhaustion. I hired 
 men who carried me. Met Edmonds, who was on the 
 march to Msalala. He returned with me, sending the 
 caravan and cloth in charge of Bunduki to Ashe, 
 
 " 15^'/'. — Had been told that a midnight attack upon 
 the village might be expected — rather, I think, with the 
 view of finding out whether I could be relied upon to help 
 in such an emergency. Towards the small hours I was 
 awaked by a shot, and heard the whizz of a bullet ; then 
 some twenty shots or more. ' Am I to fight,' said I to 
 myself, 'or not ? ' 'Am I to see this village burnt to the 
 
 ground, my men killed, myself .'' Then I heard a 
 
 laugh. ' It is not war,' thought I ; 'I will answer that 
 question another time.' So I turned over and went to sleep. 
 The next morning we heard that it was a lion which had 
 sprung over the stockade into the cattle-pen. Lions are 
 dangerous sometimes. At Uyui there was no door to the 
 room in which I slept, and the very day after I left it I was 
 told that a lion had seized and killed a woman in broad 
 daylight, close by. 
 
 " 17//^. — Tooth extracted by one of the French priests 
 whom we met just past Shimami's. To my despair, he 
 
2^6 
 
 James Hannington. 
 
 [A.D. 1883. 
 
 produced a very rough hawk's-bill instrument, had one or 
 two tries to adjust it, and finally broke the tooth ofF; how- 
 ever, he relieved the pain. 
 
 " 18///, Sunday. — We invited the priests to meals, 
 our morning Service. Both touched with fever. I 
 
 Had 
 
 was 
 
 very ill during the night, but got some valuable hints from 
 the priests. 
 
 " i()tJi. — The French priests took leave of us, and one 
 of them presented me with a very curious pair of U-Ganda 
 shoes, which I gladly accepted to add to my collection. 
 
 " As we marched we fell in with many rivers and 
 morasses, and the rains became so heavy that I doubted 
 whether we could ffo much further. There was an im- 
 mense deal of water on the road, sometimes ankle-, some- 
 times knee-deep, and sometimes I have been carried for the 
 best part of an hour with the water up to the men's chins. 
 
 In cases of this kind I used to cling round the pole of my 
 hammock, and six men would carry me on their heads, as if 
 I were a log of wood. I have often thought of poor Dr. 
 
 The above and succeeding sketches are all reduced fac-similes 
 from the Bishop's note-book. 
 
^t. 35.] AtetJiod of Crossing Water. 257 
 
 Livingstone's trials, and realized what he went through^ 
 for my own experience very closely resembled his. If the 
 picture on the cover of ' His Last Journals ' is correct, my 
 mode of being carried across deep streams is, I think, better 
 than his. If you glance at the illustration you will see that 
 I knelt on the shoulders of a tall, powerful man, and held 
 the uplifted hands of another in front, while a third behind 
 grasped my feet and kept us steady. In very swift streams, 
 sometimes six or eight men were required to keep the three 
 bearers, with their burden, from being swept away. 
 
 " These floods kept me in constant suspense lest, in my 
 weak state, I should be plunged into the water; but far 
 worse are the morasses. For a mile together I have been 
 borne through the most horrible black mud, often above 
 the knee. This was exceedingly fatiguing for the men and 
 
 trying to me, the more so as I knew that I was inhaling 
 malarious poison of the worst description. 
 
 " 22rd. — My men again ran away, and I had to walk, or 
 rather crawl, for fifteen miles, which tired greatly my poor 
 little strength. We crossed a picturesque bridge over a 
 very wide river, and reached our friends at Urambo at about 
 12 o'clock, and received a very kind welcome." (This is 
 a station of the L. M. S.) 
 
 " Shaw kindly received me, and Willoughby entertained 
 Edmonds, who had joined me a few days before. Wil- 
 loughby was not in when I arrived. He has since told me 
 that Shaw came outside the house to tell him that he would 
 find me very altered — dying, in fact — but he must not 
 appear to notice the change, lest it should alarm me. He 
 asked my black men about me. They replied, ' Master 
 must die ; he is sure to die ; but how is it master is always 
 
238 James Hannington. [A.D. iS 3- 
 
 so happy ? Black man would lie down by the side of the 
 road and die lilce a sheep.'* , , , , , 
 
 " Penry, one of the L. M. S. men, who had also been 
 ill and was returning home, wished to join me. This 
 delayed me a few days, during which time I had an inter- 
 view with the celebrated King Mirambo. Mirambo's 
 history is too long for me to attempt to give it here. He 
 was first called Mtelya, but in consequence of his many 
 victories he assumed the name of Mirambo, which seems 
 to mean ' Killing many men.' He is further surnamed 
 Nzige, or Locust, because they say he eats up all before 
 him ; and lately he has added the name of Malomo-Maliu, 
 or Five Lamps, being the number of important places 
 around, in all of which, as he says, 'he is able to discern 
 between friends and foes.' 
 
 " Before Mirambo came to the throne he used to get 
 drunk on pombe just as others; when, however, he was 
 made king, he at once became a total abstainer, for he said, 
 ' I could not do all my business and govern my people well if 
 I drank pombe.' He was formerly a most blood-thirsty 
 tyrant, inspiring terror for miles round ; but now, though 
 not 3et a Christian, he has been strongly influenced by 
 Christianity, and is very favourable to Missionaries. 
 
 "Justice in Urambo is swift and sudden. A short time 
 before our arrival the king had ordered a levy of men to be 
 made in the surrounding villages. Three men in a distant 
 Village made excuse, saying they were ill. The next day, 
 A-Iirambo, without any warning, arrived \n that village, and 
 round them busily engaged with their own work. He 
 immediately ordered their heads to be struck off. The 
 resident Missionary said to him, ' Mirambo, our Oueen is 
 a great Sovereign ; she jiever does things of this" sort • ' 
 
 * On two occasions the bearers laid what thev hpl.V^o^ . , 
 his lifeless body on the ground, and left ft sa^^n. ? . ■ ° ^^ 
 useless to concern themselves further about a rn " "'as 
 
 tmie consciousness returned, and he crawled nainf.n^^'r ^'^^'^ 
 caravan till he was discovered. But throus^h alM^ 'i^;-^^''"' ^^^^ 
 cheerfulness never forsook him. ' ^ patience and 
 
-•Et. 35.] Miravibo. 239 
 
 and then he proceeded to explain to him the judge and jury 
 system. 
 
 "'Yes,' replied Mirambo, 'that is very good for your 
 Oueen; she is, no doubt, surrounded by clever gentlemen; 
 but it would not do for me. My people are so foolish, I can 
 only govern them in this way.' 
 
 "When Captain Hore of the L. M. S. passed through, 
 Mirambo gave special instructions that no one should raise 
 a finger against his white friend. The night before he left 
 the capital, one of Mirambo's pages was caught stealing, 
 and, as a slight punishment, was tied to a post. It hap- 
 pened that Mirambo, visiting the white man's camp in the 
 early morning, before the rest were awake, spied his own 
 page in durance vile. He hastily retired, and by and by 
 sent down privately to inquire how this came about. He 
 heard, and held his peace until Captain Hore had departed ; 
 he then sent for his page, who had returned to the palace. 
 
 " ' Where were you last night } ' ' Thy servant went 
 no whither,' was the unblushing lie. ' Then I will tell 
 you where you went ; ' and so he recounted all. ' Now,' 
 said he, ' I will teach my people not to disobey orders, 
 and molest my white friends,'' So he took a bow and 
 arrow and shot him through the heart, and then, as he 
 did not die instantly, took his bow and bowstrung him. 
 The act was cruel and severe, but the circumstances of the 
 case must be remembered. It is a noted fact that he is not 
 accustomed to put anybody to death with his own hand, 
 but always employs an executioner. In this case he made 
 a special exception, in order to let his people know that he 
 had had nothing to do with the theft, and that he meant to 
 stand by the white man and protect him from molestation, 
 
 " One of his medicine men came to examine me. This 
 man was of vastly superior morality to the majority of his 
 fellows. His method was to use a pair of lazytongs, with a 
 little figure at the end, over which he appeared to breathe a 
 prayer. When the doll had peered into my chest, by an 
 almost imperceptible turn of the wrist it returned to its 
 master to deliver its message. This was thrice repeated, 
 and then I was told that I had a cold, which, considering 
 
240 Javies Hannington. [A.D. 1883- 
 
 that I had been coughing and sneezing ever since I had 
 been in the hut, was easy to guess and impossible to deny. 
 I questioned him about his medicine, and asked if he 
 thought that putting a httle bottle in the earth, and saying 
 a few words over it, could make rain. He replied : ' Cer- 
 tainly not ! only God could make rain ; but how can we 
 expect Him to do so unless we pray and make right offer- 
 ings ? ' He always went into the forest to pray, so we 
 asked him if God was only in the forest? 'No; but the 
 forest is retired and quiet. There is only one God.' Here, 
 of course, was a great opening for Gospel teaching, which 
 he was quite ready to listen to. 
 
 " Now, lest any should think that this man was suffi- 
 ciently enlightened, and stood in no need of our teaching, 
 hear the following tale. His son was dying, and he sent a 
 message to Mirambo to accuse a man of bewitching him. 
 The answer was : ' You know the punishment for witch- 
 craft ; apply it.' The accused, however, was a desperate 
 character, and nobody dared to carry out the sentence, so 
 word was sent to the king, who asked which of his warriors 
 would undertake the business. All shrank back but one 
 man, whom I knew well, and who expressed himself as 
 willing to do it. The supposed wizard was asked to meit 
 him at supper. This he refused, so he went to the man's 
 house, and stood near his door till he could shoot at him and 
 wound him. The men round then rushed in, and speared 
 him to death ! 
 
 " February i~tk. — As Penry is unable to get men, we 
 have asked Edmonds to go round to Unyanyembe alone, 
 and let us cut across to Uyui direct. 
 
 " March ^th. — Packed up and started with Penry for 
 Uyui at 10 a.m. 
 
 " March "jth. — I had a sharp attack of fever, and ought 
 to have stopped ; but onward was the word, and this I 
 heartily endorsed, as, when in fever, I was generally better 
 on the road ; so, sometimes walking, sometimes carried, I 
 went forward till about three o'clock, when I became worse, 
 fainted, and seemed to be dying. However, by the mercy 
 of God, I rallied, and the next day we resumed our journe)-. 
 
yEt. 35-] ^^ Death's Door. 341 
 
 " March <^th. — OfF before daybreak, and was carried 
 until one o'clock, when I was taken desperately ill in the 
 desert, and had another fainting fit. We were near no 
 camping ground or any shelter. At four o'clock I endea- 
 voured to stand, but was unable, so I had the tent pitched 
 close to where 1 lay. Then I begged them to carry me to 
 it, about ten yards off. The trouble would not have been 
 great^ but my headman refused, and two of them led me by 
 the arms. The consequence was I again fainted. 
 
 '■'■March \oth. — At one a.m. woke, very ill. Suffocat- 
 ing action of the heart. Took stimulant, but for an hour 
 I appeared to be sinking. Scarcely able to whisper, I sent 
 for Penry, and took leave of him. But when day dawned 
 I revived slightly, and, although I could not stand, and 
 scarcely move hand or foot, I allowed myself to be 
 lifted into the hammock and be carried on. The air 
 refreshed me, but when we reached Uyui, at about nine 
 o'clock, I was again apparently in a dying condition. 
 Blackburn, who had come to meet me, seeing how I was, 
 ran to the house, prepared a bed, and revived me with 
 strong stimulants. Humanly speaking, I owe my life to his 
 assiduous attention. I was then moved into the school- 
 room where I had lain so long on the way up, and felt as 
 happy as possible, tkough utterly prostrate. All agreed that 
 my only chance of recovery was that the fever should not 
 recur. Before sunset, however, it set in heavily with 
 delirium. 
 
 '•'■March iiih^ Sunday. — As soon as the fever passed 
 my temperature sank very low, and the cold sweat of death 
 seemed to stand on my brow. I asked then to have the 
 Service in my room, and none of us thought that I should 
 see another Sunday. In the afternoon the fever returned, 
 and my dear boy, Backit, stayed by my side for twenty-four 
 hours, while I was delirious, without leaving to eat a mouth- 
 ful. I remained in this critical state for five days ; Black- 
 burn very kind, and watching by my bedside. At times I 
 could not help smiling at his intense desire to save my life 
 — it seemed such a hopeless struggle. 
 
 '■'■March i^th. — Called two of my boys, got up, and, 
 
242 
 
 James Hanningion. 
 
 [A.D. \i 
 
 leaning on their arms, went out of doors, and, to the utter 
 amazement of everybody, walked about a hundred yards. 
 
 On the 17th I was weighed — 8 stone 6 pounds. That is 
 to say, I had lost four stone since leaving England. 
 
 " On the 17th we made preparation for departure. I 
 feel that I must proceed for life or death. Either will be 
 
 3 oXC Go-Ok-u^flAii^ 
 
 welcome, though I confess to a longing to live. Blackburn 
 insists that he will come with us as far as Mpwapwa. From 
 this time," he adds, " I began slowly to mend." 
 
 Writing for the children at home, Plannington described 
 his experiences of life in a hammock in a serio-comic vein. 
 He says : 
 
^Et. 35-J 
 
 Life in a Haiitmock. 
 
 243 
 
 " It sounds very luxurious to be transported from place 
 to place in a hammock. Well, all I can say is, let those 
 who think they would like it try it. I am sure I could 
 write a book on the subject; I 
 have had such an experience of 
 the excitements, monotonies, 
 and discomforts of the ham- 
 mock. I will give you just 
 one illustration. Sometimes 
 the man in front falls down, 
 and I fall forward. On one 
 such occasion the bearer was, 
 by some miraculous means, 
 pinned to the ground by the 
 hammock-pole ; nor could he 
 move until a companion re- 
 leased him. Sometimes the 
 man behind would trip up ; in 
 which case I fell on the back of my head. At another time 
 he would glide on to his knees, and let me down in several 
 inches of black mud. Yet, again, botJi bearers would trip 
 simultaneously, and a complete 
 downfall would take place. 
 
 "Then boughs would whip 
 one in the face ; or the men 
 would bang one against sharp- 
 pointed stumps of trees ; or 
 stepping unequally, jump one 
 up and down like a pea on a 
 drum. One good man who 
 carried me had a kind of spring- 
 halt which was particularly 
 unpleasant, especially after a 
 meal. As for being lifted over 
 and under fallen trees ; being 
 handed down deep ravines and 
 
 up the other side, with one's feet far above one's head ; why, 
 that happened so often that I grew accustomed to have 
 my heels h'gh in the air." 
 
244 ' James Hanniiigton. [A.D. 18S3. 
 
 After a time Hannington discharged his Wa-Nguana 
 carriers, and hired Wa-Nyamwezi. He says, " The Wa- 
 Nguana are bad travellers in regard to weight, though good 
 in respect of not caring about the shape of the load. 7 hey 
 have learnt, too, the white man's ways. They know that 
 he must have clean camping ground and good water. They 
 are very handy about the camp and tent. Wa-Nyamwezi, 
 on the other hand, are very stupid about camp, but they are 
 splendid load carriers, and, as travellers, are up to anything, 
 so long as you do not ask them to venture out at night." 
 
 On March 27, a dispute arose with the Wa-Nyamwezi 
 porters which might have turned out very awkwardly. One 
 of them was slightly punished for having insulted Mr. Black- 
 burn, whereupon his companions threatened to desert in a 
 
 body unless he were compensated by a present of cloth. 
 This would have left the white men helpless in the midst 
 of a pori (desert). iVlatters looked serious, as the men 
 would not give way, and their masters could not overlook 
 the breach of discipline. They met together in Hannino-ton's 
 tent, and laid the matter before the Lord. Prayer was 
 scarcely finished, when they heard the headman of the Wa- 
 Nyamwezi making a speech, followed by a sio-n of assent 
 from the multitude, and a messenger was sent to them to 
 say that the Wa-Nyamwezi acknowledged themselves to be 
 in the wrong, and that the white men were right. So they 
 praised God, and continued on their way. 
 
 On April the 19th, after the usual trials with porters 
 and discomforts attendant upon travelling in the rainy 
 
JEt 35.] j^/-. Penr/s Death. 245 
 
 season, they reached Kisokwe, where a hearty welcome 
 awaited them from Mr. and Mrs. Cole. Hannington 
 writes : " When we approached Kisokwe (near Mpwapwa), 
 I saw that, even since my last visit, the population had con- 
 siderably increased, and that fresh tembes had been built. 
 Indeed, it is not necessary that a white man should fix 
 himself in an unhealthy situation merely because it has a 
 large population. Let him choose a healthy and convenient 
 site, and the people will soon swarm around him. This, of 
 course, does not apply to towns like Rubaga, and those on 
 the west coast, but to intermediate stations and districts. 
 On the way I was greatly upset to hear of Mrs. Last's 
 death. This is, indeed, sad for poor Last. They were so 
 happy and comfortable at Mamboia, and seemed likely to do 
 a great work.* On arriving at the Coles's house I was 
 greatly affected at the sight of the baby. The thought of 
 my own sweet children filled my heart, and the slight hope 
 I have had, and still have of ever seeing them again all came 
 before me so vividly that I must confess to crying like a 
 child. I rushed at the baby, and begged to be allowed to 
 hold and kiss it. Ah ! what changes are wrought in one 
 out here in the wilderness. I am not one bit ashamed to 
 own this, though, but a short time ago, I should have looked 
 upon it as the most intense weakness." 
 
 " Penry seems very sleepy and strange to-day. "We all 
 think that he has taken too large a dose of opium to ward 
 off the dysentery from which he is suffering. He has slept 
 nearly all the day and eats nothing." Mr. Penry had been 
 for some time in a very weak state, but had given his friends 
 no serious alarm. He, however, had not Hannington's 
 recuperative povi^ers, and at Kisokwe quite suddenly sank 
 and died. The following entry describes the end : 
 
 " At about one p.m. we were summoned to his bedside, 
 and he seemed to be dying. I treated him as I had had 
 myself treated over and over again, and toward daybreak he 
 seemed better. However, he grew weaker during the day, 
 and on the day following he quietly fell asleep in Jesus. 
 
 * Not long after this, Mrs. Cole also died. 
 
346 James Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 We made the coffin, and with our own hands lifted hun 
 gently into it, and buried him that same night by the grave 
 of Dr, Mullens, at Mpwapwa." 
 
 The above extract from the diary must be sufficient, as 
 we cannot here repeat all that he writes of the terrible and 
 repulsive details of a death by dysentery. " Monsr. * and I 
 performed the last offices, and very terrible they were. 
 Monsr., who had worked many years in a hospital, was at 
 the time even more upset than I was." 
 
 This death was a great shock to Hannington ; he says : 
 " Shall I, who have been always looked upon as the worse 
 of the two — and especially by Penry himself — be the next 
 prey that death will seize ? •" 
 
 Sunday, the 22nd, was spent quietly at Kisokwe with the 
 Coles. " These kind people having insisted that I should 
 stay with them, I have to-day had an opportunity of witness- 
 ing their Sunday work, though, with them, every day is a 
 Sunday, and spent in Missionary endeavour. To-day there 
 was a Service at about 1 1 for natives. The church was 
 well filled by Wa-Gogo and Wa-Nguana, and the Service was 
 accordingly divided into parts, and made to suit both 
 sections. Short addresses and catechisms were given in both 
 tongues. They joined in the hymns very fairly, and are 
 fond of singing, but the Africans here have not good voices ; 
 they can chant monotonously, but I have not heard one 
 really good voice among them, even among the boys in 
 Zanzibar Cathedral. At 3 p.m. there was another Service 
 in the vernacular, and an even better attendance. I tell 
 Cole that he will soon have to build a new church." (Mrs. 
 Cole's remarkable Sunday School Class has already been 
 described on page 187.) "The Mpwapwa work is very 
 similar to this, and is being energetically carried on by 
 Mr. Price. He and Blackburn walked over to Kisokwe, 
 and I administered the Holy Communion to the little 
 gathering, and a very solemn and devoted time we had 
 together." 
 
 * One of the Jesuit band who accompanied the caravan to the 
 ccast. 
 
v-Et. 35-J "My Friend the Baby" 347 
 
 " 23?-;^. — As some of Penry's things have to be disposed 
 of here, in accordance with his instructions, I have another 
 day in this pleasant spot with these agreeable people, 
 and my friend the baby, who is a wonder for size, and is 
 healthy and strong, and very good tempered. The natives 
 delight in him, and call him a Mgogo, one of themselves, 
 born in their country, and so quite different to other 
 Wazungu (white men) who were born in Ulia (Europe). 
 The day passed only too quickly, and, in spite of a good 
 deal of pain — for I have been poisoned by the terrible 
 stench in attending upon the dying man, and have a slight 
 attack of dysentery — I enjoyed myself greatly, spending 
 a portion of the day in pursuit of my favourite study of 
 botany. I ascended one of the surrounding hills for a 
 short distance. The panorama is magnificent. The distant 
 hills of U-Sagara are visible, range after range rising in the 
 far distance, and gradually fading in colouring until they 
 are quite blended with the clouds." 
 
 The next morning they were oft again, and, after a 
 night at Mpwapwa, took the path for the coast. Han- 
 nington says : " I find an immense advantage in having 
 everything placed in exactly the same spot every time 
 that the tent is pitched, and insisting upon it. After a 
 little trouble at first, the boys soon learn to know what you 
 ■want, and do it without being told, so that when you step 
 into your tent at the end of a march, though all is fresh 
 outside, yet within it looks as though the tent had not been 
 moved ; and what is more, you know where to find every- 
 thing even in the dark." 
 
 " April i^th. — One of the up country mails passed us, 
 and say that our letters are a day or two behind them, so it 
 will not be long before we get more news of dear home. 
 How I delight in the thought ! " 
 
 " 26^//- — Onwards, ever onwards ; pori and plain to pass. 
 Beautiful weather and good-tempered men, though always 
 inclined to be troublesome. Camped 5000 feet above sea 
 level. Air so cold that I quite shivered. 
 
 " 2']th. — Mamboia. Keen disappointment. Last gone 
 
248 James Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 away for six days. Our messengers had loitered, and did 
 not arrive till too late. So no welcome and no rest." 
 
 On the 29th, Mr. Last, who had heard of the visit, 
 caught up Hannington's party, and accompanied him on his 
 journey for a day or two. In the keen and bracing air of 
 the mountains near Kwa Chiropa, Hannington recovered his 
 sitrength rapidly, and he ascended to some height with Mr. 
 Last, making botanical collections. " On our way down 
 we saw an abandoned village, the inhabitants of which had 
 all died of small-pox. The havoc which this disease makes 
 is terrible. It is computed that during the epidemic in Zan- 
 zibar which lasted about four months, 30,000 deaths 
 occurred. When we returned, we found that one of Mr. 
 Last's men had run away, taking with him his gun, sextant^ 
 and prismatic compass ! ■" 
 
 "28//^. — Took leave of Last. For an hour or so we waded 
 through the most horrible black mud, knee-deep, and smell- 
 ing beyond description, densely overhung with grass and 
 reeds to the height of 10 to 20 feet. So, more or less, all 
 day till we reached camp. 
 
 " Soon after arriving, a message came from Dr. Baxter 
 that he had heard that Penry and I were very ill, and that 
 he was returning to meet us. Happily I now require no 
 doctoring, and Penry has gone, but I cannot imagine a 
 nobler act than that a man should return from the coast at 
 this season of the year, with heavy rain still threatening. 
 The moment we stepped out of the village on May 3rd we 
 were in black mud and water knee-deep, and this continued 
 till we reached a branch of the River Wami. The same 
 fearful swamp till the next river, and so on. One river was 
 crossed by a loose bridge of creepers and poles partly knee- 
 deep in water. Here we had more difficulty than anywhere. 
 It was not until I drove away the men and made them swim 
 for it that we were able to get at all into order. I then 
 posted men all across the bridge, and had the loads handed 
 from one to the other ; and thus, as a load, was I handed 
 across myself. Two hours were occupied in getting over 
 about 80 loads. Then deep mud for the rest of the journev ; 
 
^t. 35.] Met by Dr. Baxter. 249 
 
 and then Kidudwa and the cheering sight of the good 
 doctor. It was in one way a great satisfaction to me to 
 hear the doctor say, after he had gone into my case, that I 
 had done right to return, and that I could not have done 
 anything else. For the last day or two I have recovered so 
 fast that I have had serious questionings with myself 
 whether I should not now return to the lake. This Dr. 
 Baxter entirely forbids. He says that I should be mad were 
 I to think of returning." 
 
 The next day, in crossing a river, they got separated 
 from their men and then from each other, and finally did not 
 reunite their forces until after a long and tedious time. 
 " Did not get into camp until night. No cooked food all 
 day. I was utterly done up, and, I am sorry to say, very 
 tart with everybody. Blackburn, however, quite won my 
 heart ; for, seeing how matters stood, and how knocked up 
 I was, he did all he could to make me comfortable, without 
 appearing to notice how irritable I was. We are travelling 
 too fast for a sick man, but it is entirely my own doing, as 
 I am very anxious to catch the Sultan's steamer." 
 
 " May 6tk. — Our last Sunday on the main land ; perhaps 
 in Africa. This day week I hope to be at sea ! As this 
 was the first place at which we have stopped where the 
 coast language is spoken or understood^ Dr. Baxter held a 
 Kiswahili Service in the open air. Quite a crowd o; 
 people gathered round, and listened to what he had to 
 say. 
 
 '■'■May ?>th. — Arrived at Saadani at about 10 a.m. 
 
 '■'■ May Cjth. — Called at 2 a.m. to the boat. As usual, 
 everything in confusion and excitement. The Wa-Nyamwezi 
 who were travelling with us had taken possession of the 
 second boat, and our men were stuffing themselves into our 
 boat, and were quarrelling and shouting for places in a 
 dreadful manner. We were able, after a time, to hire 
 another boat. Let me warn travellers against allowing 
 another party of natives to attach itself to their caravan, 
 held out against it from the very first. However, all's well 
 that ends well. We started at about 4 a.m., and had a 
 
250 James Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 speedy run across to Zanzibar, arriving at about 10 o'clock, 
 A good bit of trouble at the Custom-house, chiefly through 
 those horrid Wa-Nyamwezi, who tried to smuggle their own 
 goods through, on pretence that they were ours. Went 
 to the French Hotel. Heard that the steamer starts on 
 Saturday, at about 12 noon. This is good news, as far as 
 getting away from Zanzibar is concerned, but it gives us 
 very little time. 
 
 " nth. — Yesterday and to-day I have been hard at 
 work getting my things packed, and making the necessary 
 arrangements for the start. I have been exceedingly well. 
 Called at the Universities' Mission, and some of them 
 called upon me ; but I have very little to enter in my diary, 
 as the details of packing are not interesting, 
 
 « \2th. — I concluded all my own arrangements, and 
 
 was ready by 12. /)5; but where was \ He had 
 
 overslept himself, and then forgotten the time, and was not 
 ready. I had the greatest difficulty in getting him off, 
 and in the end the steamer started without him, when an 
 umbrella was seen waving in the distance, and they stopped 
 and took him in ; however, he had to leave the greater 
 part of his luggage behind. All I say about it is to ask. 
 How men can systematically do such things, and get 
 through the world at all ? One result was, that the cabins 
 which had been chosen for us had been given to other 
 people, and we were obliged to share one between us." 
 
 So the long and perilous journey was at length com- 
 pleted. The sick man whose life had been so often 
 despaired of stood upon the deck of the homeward-bound 
 steamer, and felt that every revolution of the screw was 
 bearing him nearer to those friendly faces and voices which 
 he had thought never again to see or hear. 
 
 Already the project was forming within his heart to 
 revisit the dark land from which he had been com- 
 pelled to flee. He would not be content now until he 
 had retrieved his defeat, and planted the banner of Christ 
 in the centre of the Great Continent. He had seen 
 that the most savage and degraded people were amen- 
 
^Et. 35-] Home Again. 251 
 
 able to Christian influence, and he meant, at no distant 
 time, God helping him, to make another attempt to 
 carry the Gospel to them. He wrote, after his arrival 
 in England : " I am thankful for experience gained, and 
 that I have lived to plead a cause which is nearer than ever 
 to mv heart ; for I have seen the need of the Africans, 
 and have realized the sufferings of their spiritual teachers. 
 As for the former, though they are ofttimes ' hateful and 
 hating,' yet there is much in them both to admire and to 
 love. Even men who, like Romwa, or ' the old man of 
 the sea,' lied, cheated, and extorted to the utmost of their 
 power, touched a tender spot in our hearts. With all their 
 depravity and darkness, I fully endorse Livingstone's 
 words, that there are excellent traits in their character ; 
 that they compare favourably with the early history of 
 now civilized nations, and are capable of a high degree of 
 culture."* 
 
 He adds : " Forgive the one that turned back." But 
 though that " turning back " was only a retreat before 
 overwhelming necessity, he could never forgive himself 
 until his foot was once more planted upon African soil. 
 
 * The Churchman. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 THE SECOND MISSIONARY JOURNEY. 
 (1883—4-) 
 
 " O bona Patria, lumina sobria te speculantur : 
 Ad tua nomina, sobria lumina collacrymantur : 
 Est tua mentio pectoris unctio, cura doloris, 
 Concipientibus osthera mentibus ignis amoris." 
 
 Bernard de Morlaix. 
 
 " For thee, O dear, dear Country ! 
 ?>Iine eyes tlieir vigils keep ; 
 For very love beholding 
 
 Thy happy name, they weep : 
 The mention of thy glory 
 Is unction to the breast, 
 And medicine in sickness, 
 And love and life and rest." 
 
 T?-a?is. by Dr. Neale. 
 
 On June loth^ 1S83, Hannington was again among his 
 friends in England. They had anxiously followed his 
 course homeward during his terrible journey from the 
 Lake, and the infrequent letters which he had written when 
 he was able to hold the pen had all been treasured up. 
 He was received as one alive from the dead. Both in the 
 Committee Room of the C. M. S., in Salisbury Square, 
 and from his people at Hurst, he met with the warmest 
 welcome. What passed between the husband and wife 
 thus given back to each other may be better surmised than 
 described. Once more the " little dear face " of his own 
 baby was taken between his hands and kissed ; and the 
 other little ones whom, three months before, he t'houo-ht he 
 " would never see again," were gathered up into his arms. 
 He settled down to his work at Hurst as though he had 
 
JEt 36.] A CJiaracteristic Letter. 253 
 
 never left it, and his young men once again rallied round 
 him. 
 
 But with returning health the desire to assail once more 
 the fortress from which he had been driven back came 
 strongly upon him. He never for a moment lost the idea 
 that he was to renew his labours in Africa. He was satu- 
 rated througii and through with the Missionary spirit, and 
 he counted the days when he should have sufficiently 
 recovered his wasted strength to again face the Medical 
 Board, and retrieve his first repulse. In the meantime, 
 since he could not persuade anybody that he was well 
 enough for work in the tropics, he placed himself at the 
 disposal of the C. M. S. Committee for deputation work at 
 home. During the next twelve months he both preached 
 and spoke upon platforms many times in behalf of the 
 Society. His graphic descriptions of the life and labours of 
 an African Missionary, and his earnest appeals in behalf of 
 the Mission cause, will be long remembered in many an 
 English town and village. The " C. M. S. Report" for 
 1884 thus alludes to him: "The health mercifully given 
 back to him by the Great Healer has been employed without 
 stint in service at home, as the Society's friends all over 
 the country well know ; and the Committee trust that the 
 desire of their dear brother's heart may be granted to him, 
 and that he may be enabled to go forth again into the field." 
 So runs the Report ; and well did the Secretaries know the 
 *•' desire of his heart," for there was no available occasion 
 when he did not present himself at the " House," to see 
 whether the doctors might not be prevailed upon to take a 
 more favourable view of his state. On Oct. 8th, 1883, he 
 writes to his wife : 
 
 " I saw the Board to-day, and the verdict was ' Africa 
 NEVER.' And so I say, The will of the Lord be done. 
 Any question about other climates and countries must be 
 left for the present. I am very melancholy about Africa. 
 But I ought not to be." 
 
 His state of mind may be somewhat realized from the 
 following intensely characteristic letter, dated Dec. 5th : 
 
254 James Hanningion. [A.D. 1884- 
 
 "My Dear,— 
 
 " Hallelujah, Amen. 
 Hallelujah, Amen. 
 Hallelujah, Amen. 
 Hallelujah ! ! ! 
 
 HALLELUJAH ! 
 And again I cry, Hallelujah ! 
 
 "■' And now quietly to begin my tale. 
 " What a wonderful thing ! I was feeling so fagged on 
 Monday that I thought I would not go up to town until 
 Tuesday, and almost made up my mind not to start, but 
 was overruled. On arriving at the Square, I found that 
 there was a Medical Board sitting, and asked how many 
 
 were to be seen. I was told, Only one. So I said to B , 
 
 more than half in fun, I wish you would ask them to see 
 me. I scarcely thought he would say anything about it, 
 but lo ! he went and put my name down to be interviewed. 
 I was quite frightened when he told me, as I thought they 
 would be in an awful rage, as I had been told not to come 
 up before April. 
 
 " I went in, and, after a long interview, the verdict was, 
 ' May go anyivhere except Africa and Ceylon.^ 
 " Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah ! ! I 
 " But this was not all (drowning men catch at a straw). 
 At first I was not encouraged by it ; but I presently learnt 
 that Mr. Wigram had slipped into the Committee, and told 
 the news to Mr. Stock, I took that to be a o-ood sign. 
 But when, the next morning, Mr. Wigram shook hands 
 with me and said, ' I am so thankful to hear the verdict,' I 
 was not able to speak much, but my heart said Hallelujah 
 Amen; and I am quite certain that you will be able to join 
 in the cry. Of course, nothing is settled. I am to see the 
 Board again in April, so that really vi'e are only one step 
 further advanced ; but there are signs enough to make any 
 Missionary heart rejoice. Once more judged worthy to 
 anticipate. 
 
 " Fly in and tell my brother to rejoice together with 
 
 US. 
 
^t. 36.] Visit to Edinburgh. 255 
 
 Such a letter was the safety-valve of a bursting heart. It 
 reveals in a wonderful manner the intensity of the fires 
 which were burning within him. At this time he had no 
 thought of the Bishopric. It had not occurred to his mind 
 that he might be sent out again in any other capacity than 
 that in which he had sailed eighteen months before. Those 
 who knew him best can testify that at this time it was 
 impossible that ambition should have had any part in light- 
 ing those flames by which he was inwardly consumed. His 
 friends thought that he had done enough ; but it was borne 
 in upon his mind with ever-increasing insistency that a dis 
 pensation of the Gospel had been committed to him, and 
 that he must return to the Mission-field ;• his heart made 
 request that it might be to Africa; but, if that were for- 
 bidden, then — somewhere else. 
 
 " He saw a Hand they could not see 
 Which beckoned him away ; 
 He heard a Voice they could not hear 
 Which would not let him stay." 
 
 When health had fully returned, and the Bishopric was 
 offered to him, he took it as a sign from God that he had a 
 work to do for Christ in Africa. About accepting the 
 Bishopric he had his doubts and fears ; about returning to 
 Africa, none, When I wrote to congratulate him and wish 
 him God-speed, he replied : ' I feel that I could no more 
 say No than did Gordon when he went to Khartoum." 
 
 When Hannington visited Edinburgh in January, 1884, 
 we noticed a great change in him. His old exuberance of 
 spirits was gone. We were almost inclined to say to him, 
 " Is all laughter gone dead out of thee ? " It was evident 
 that he had passed through a heavy strain, which had taxed 
 his constitution to the utmost. By and by flashes of the 
 old wit somewhat reassured us ; but it was plain that the 
 rough chastening of those terrible months of sickness in 
 Africa would leave scourge marks not readily to be healed 
 or forgotten. At the same time, that " chastisement " had 
 not been without its distinct benefit. He was in every 
 way softened and mellowed. "While his sense of the 
 humorous was as keen as ever, his consideration for the 
 
256 James Hannington. [A.D. 1S84. 
 
 feelings of others was much greater than formerly. He 
 was gentler and more tender, quieter, and more outwardly 
 affectionate in his manner than of yore. The current of 
 his life seemed to run more stilly and more deep. 
 
 Just now and again the old " Jim " would leap into life 
 and almost make me forget that we were not still under- 
 graduates together. As, when we were spending the two 
 hours which intervened between the morning and afternoon 
 Services in the vestry, he suddenly declared that his legs 
 were so stiff with sitting still that he was sure he should not 
 be able to ascend the pulpit steps, and so, placing two chairs 
 close to each other, he leapt backwards and forwards over 
 them till he was tired with the exercise and I with lauo-hinp;. 
 What a sight — had some "grave and reverend signor," 
 some austere father of the Church, looked in at that moment ! 
 Ah me, would he not have concluded that the " deputation" 
 who had so edified him in the morning had suddenly gone 
 mad ! But we knew better. 
 
 He remained with us rather more than a week. We 
 found his society very helpful. His attitude of mind was 
 deeply spiritual, and there was nothing which he loved more 
 than to talk over some passage from Scripture, often throwing 
 the most vivid light upon its inner meaning. 
 
 He was very full of his African work, and all the time 
 he was with us was busy preparing those sketches of 
 his adventures, many of which appeared in the Grapliic 
 and other illustrated papers, and a few of which have been 
 reproduced in this work. Seated in a low chair in a corner 
 of the study, with a box of water-colours and a sheet of 
 drawing paper, he would fight his battles over again, and nar- 
 rate every incident with the keenest zest. 1 had the o-reat 
 advantage of hearing from his own lips most of those exploits 
 which have been chronicled in these pages. He was full of 
 hope after his last interview with the Medical Board, and 
 was looking forward eagerly to the time when he should be 
 again examined; for he firmly believed that he would in the 
 end be permitted to return to the Dark Continent. 
 
 There was one change in him which, at the time, I 
 failed to understand, but the cause of which has since been 
 
JEt. 36.] A Bisliop fay Central Africa. 257 
 
 made clear to me. In former days Hannington had been 
 the most generous of men. He did not seem to consider 
 money, but rather rejoiced in spending it upon any object 
 which took, his fancy. Now, though he did not specially 
 allude to the subject, I could not help seeing that he was 
 careful in his expenditure, and weighed the cost of every- 
 thing. I should not perhaps have noticed this, had I not been 
 so familiar with his character ; but, knowing his former 
 habits, and that his income was not diminished, it did occur 
 to me once or twice to ask myself whether this new phase 
 implied that my friend was becoming " near.'' It was not 
 until after his death that this was explained, and I discovered 
 that he had been giving a fifth of his strictly-limited in- 
 come to one society alone, irrespective of his other charities. 
 O thou noble soul ; thy gifts did not stop short of self-sacri- 
 fice, nor didst thou offer to the Lord what cost thee nothing ! 
 
 Shortly after this the Committee of the C. M. S. began 
 to reconsider a scheme which had been first mooted in the 
 life-time of the Rev. Henry Wright, that the Mission 
 Churches of Eastern Equatorial Africa should be placed 
 under the supervision of a Bishop. The Universities' 
 Mission, over which Bishops Mackenzie, Steere, and 
 Smythies have been successively placed, has its own sphere 
 of work, but does not extend so far into the interior as the 
 stations of the C. M. S., which had been hitherto with- 
 out episcopal supervision. Mr. Wright had corresponded 
 with Bishop Steere as early as 1880 on the subject of a 
 division of territory, and the formation of a new See, and 
 had received assurances of his cordial sympathy and co- 
 operation. No further steps, however, were taken until the 
 scheme was revived in this year 1884. It was now felt 
 that the increasing number of stations in Central Africa de- 
 manded supervision. That the Mission having been placed 
 upon a sound basis, what it now required was that the widely- 
 scattered Churches should be bound together by the personal 
 influence of one who would have authority to command, 
 wisdom to organize, and character to ensure that his com- 
 mands should be obeyed. The Committee, therefore, began 
 
 17 
 
2S8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1884- 
 
 to seek for some man who united in himself, with unfeigned 
 Missionary ardour, a somewhat rare combination of gifts. 
 
 The post demanded a man of dauntless personal courage, 
 tact, spirituality of mind, and prompt, business-like habits — 
 a man who coupled gentleness with a strong personality. 
 Hannington had proved that he combined these opposite 
 characteristics in himself to a very remarkable extent. The 
 eyes of the Committee naturally turned to him. His health 
 had so rapidly improved during the past six months that Sir 
 Joseph Fayrer, the climatologist, gave it as his unqualified 
 opinion that he might now return to Africa with a good 
 prospect of being able to live and labour there for many 
 years. This being so, the matter was laid before him, and 
 he, after much searching of heart, but with deep gratitude 
 to God as for the answer to his constant prayer, accepted 
 the responsibility. The consent of the Archbishop had 
 been already obtained, and the consecration took place on 
 St. John the Baptist's Day, June 24th, in the Parish 
 Church of Lambeth. 
 
 On that day two Missionary Bishops were consecrated 
 for foreign work, the other being the Hon. and Rev. A. J. R. 
 Anson, who was appointed to the diocese of Assiniboia. 
 
 Shortly before eleven o'clock, the two Bishops-Designate 
 met the Archbishop, together with the Bishops of London, 
 St. Albans, Rochester, Lichfield, Dover, Ohio, and Saskat- 
 chewan, in the library of Lambeth Palace. Thence they 
 proceeded to the Church. As the procession entered the 
 sacred building, the choir chanted the Magnus Doininus, 
 Psilm xlviii., the concluding words of which came to the 
 two new Bishops as a message from heaven — to Hannino;ton 
 almost as an omen — "This God is our God for ever "and 
 ever ; He shall be our Guide unto death." 
 
 \\\ due course the two Bishops-Designate are kneeb'ng 
 before the Archbishop, and the Veni Creator is suno- ; 
 
 "Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire, 
 And lighten with celestial fire." 
 
 And when they rise it is with the injunction that they 
 so care for the flock entrusted to them, that when the Chief 
 
^t. 36.] His Consecration as BisJwp. 259 
 
 Shepherd shall appear, they may receive the never-fading 
 crown of glory, through Jesus Christ their Lord. 
 
 It was under the influence of no shallow self-confidence 
 that Hannington undertook this great responsibility. He 
 was fully aware of the special difficulties of the charo-e 
 committed to him. He knew that not merely energy and 
 courage, but tact, wisdom, and patient endurance, not only 
 of toil, but, what is far harder to bear, of contradiction, 
 would be required of him. He was about to shepherd no 
 ideal flock in some pastoral Arcadia where he might 
 decorate his crook with ribands, and pipe strains of gentle 
 music, surrounded by happy shepherds and shepherdesses. 
 He knew that in the fierce tropic climate of that fell land in 
 which his work was to be done, not only the wild flock, but 
 the under-shepherds themselves would need more than 
 ordinary skill to guide them aright ; and that his crook must 
 be held with a hand both gentle and strong. By no one 
 need the suaviter in rnodo, fortiter in re — the art of con- 
 cealing the hand of steel in the velvet glove — be more dili- 
 gently practised than by an African Missionary Bishop.* It 
 was with the full consciousness that his path would not be 
 strewn with roses that Hannington accepted the Bishopric ; 
 but he was ready to "endure hardness as a good soldier of 
 Jesus Christ," and was, moreover, strong in the confidence 
 that the Lord would "deliver him from every evil work, 
 and would preserve him unto His Heavenly Kingdom.-"^ 
 
 The following anecdote was related to me by one of 
 the Secretaries of the C. iVI. S. The day after his consecra- 
 tion he had occasion to call at the House in Salisbury 
 Square. A well-known member of the Committee met 
 him on the staircase, and greeted him with, " I must con- 
 gratulate you. Bishop Hannington ; " to whom he replied 
 half-humorously, yet not without serious meaning, " Coi)i- 
 viiserate me, you mean." 
 
 The four months which he spent in England after his 
 consecration were employed in organizing his new diocese, in 
 
 * " He was beloved by every Missionary. There never was a 
 Bishop who could be so firm, and, at the same tirae, so kind and 
 considerate." — Letter from the Rev. E. A. Fttdi. 
 
26o James Hannington. [A.D. 18S4. 
 
 commencing a Diocesan Fund, and in making additions to his 
 working staff. His departure was somewhat delayed by the 
 expectation of a domestic event which added a fourth child 
 to his household. But he was not idle during the interim. 
 To myself he wrote, " I want you to look about and see if 
 you cannot secure me a doctor or two." No doubt many 
 others received similar communications. He searched the 
 ranks of his friends for suitable men wlio would be willing 
 to accompany him to the post of honour and danger at the 
 front. 
 
 Amongst others he corresponded with the Rev. E. A. 
 Fitch, of Pem. Coll., Cambridge, whom he eventually 
 decided to take with him as his Chaplain. 
 
 In a letter to JNlr. Fitch's father, the Vicar of Cromer, 
 he says : 
 
 " My Dear Sir, — I am afraid that you will look upon 
 me as a wolf and a robber ; though I hope not. 
 
 " From the moment that you mentioned your son, I 
 could not divest myself of the feeling that I must see him, 
 and everything then seemed to lead that way. Most 
 earnestly have I prayed that I might not act contrary to the 
 Mind of the Spirit. It is a great question, both for you and 
 for him ; but I am sure you will be blessed, aye, greatly 
 blessed, in making the sacrifice. I am giving up three 
 children to go out, for they cannot go with us,* and nobody 
 can tell how at times my heart bleeds. It is agony. But I can 
 do it for Christ's sake, and I believe that He asks it of me. 
 
 " If it is finally settled that your son goes out, I will 
 endeavour to be a brother to him and a firm friend. Even 
 yet the Lord mav show that He has appointed us to run 
 some different course. 
 
 "I remain, yours sincerely, 
 
 "James Hannington, 
 
 " Bishop in E. Eq. Africa." 
 
 * At that time it had been planned [that Mrs. Hannington and 
 her baby should follow the Bishop to Africa, and reside at 
 Mombasa. 
 
Mt. 36.] Preparations. 261 
 
 He was in much request during his short stay at home, 
 and was invited to many places. Amongst others I find 
 reference in a letter to his wife to an Undenominational 
 Conference which had been arranged by Canon Basil 
 Wilberforce to meet at Southampton. He says : 
 
 " Well, we had a curious gathering down here. On 
 arrival, I found myself forming one of a select party — the 
 Canon, Mr. Spurgeon, Lord Radstock, and the Earl of 
 Lichfield. Every word of the conversation (after they had 
 got to the end of cross-questioning me, which took about an 
 hour) seemed worth listening to. On Thursday we com- 
 menced with prayer at 8, Conference at 11, at which Mr. 
 Spurgeon first spoke, then the Bishop, then Lord Radstock. 
 Afterwards Lord and Lady Ailsa, and Lord and Lady Mt. 
 Edgecombe came to lunch, and spent the day. They all 
 seemed bright Christians. Spurgeon and I had a good time 
 together, and I enjoyed his society immensely." 
 
 Writing to myself some short while later, he says : 
 
 " I have a commission from the Archbishop to visit 
 Jerusalem, and confirm the Churches on the way out ; so I 
 
 start (d.v.) on Nov. 5th for the Holy Land 
 
 My wife and the little one are going on most excellently 
 well. ... I am so overladen with work that I scarce 
 know what to do. Warmest love to self and Lucy," — while 
 tucked into the corner of the letter are the words, " Pray 
 for us." 
 
 In some form or other that request was seldom absent 
 from his letters. He was never content unless he believed 
 that all his friends were praying for him. In this respect he 
 reminds one frequently of General Gordon. Lord Tenny- 
 son surely conceived well the attitude of a truly great and 
 simple mind when he put into the Hps of his Arthur : 
 
 " More things are wrought by prayer 
 Than this world dreams of. Wherefore, let thy voice 
 Rise like a fountain for me night and day. . . . 
 For so the whole round earth is every way 
 Bound by gold chains about the feet of God." 
 
262 James Hannington. [A-D. 1884. 
 
 The word pyayei\ often as it is alluded to in his letters, 
 never fell from his pen as a conventional platitude. rrayer 
 was to him, in the most real sense, " the rope which pulls 
 the bell in heaven." Here is a letter written at about this 
 time to the Hon. Secretary of the C. M. S., when some 
 important subject, upon which there were likely to be 
 differences of opinion, was about to be discussed : 
 
 " My dear Mr. Wigram,— I must send a word to 
 say how fully I realize that you will be helped and guided 
 by the tenderest of Fathers, the God of all Grace, on 
 Monday. I gathered that possibly a few bitter things might 
 be given utterance to, though I hope not. At all events, 
 'tis a trying time and a crisis ; and we who cannot speak 
 much are going to pray for your guidance. The wisdom 
 
 of the serpent would suggest that should be 
 
 received with warmth and extra courtesy. 
 
 " Yours in something more than affection, 
 
 "J. H., Bp." 
 
 PTaving received the aforesaid Commission from the 
 Archbishop of Canterbury, Bishop Hannington sailed on 
 November 5th, making his passage in the Nepmd. They 
 had troops on board, two hundred of whom were to be 
 transferred to another vessel at Gibraltar ; them, on the first 
 Sunday, the Bishop addressed in a vigorous ten minutes' 
 exposition on " the command of the King to repent." 
 This was a thing he could do well and effectively, and the 
 men heard him with marked attention. To his wife he 
 wrote by the next mail : " To realize more of the wonderful 
 love of the Lord is what we want, and we can then endure 
 separation and any other hardships for His sake. . . . 
 I hope Meppy liked his letter. I must send Carry the next 
 one, and then I suppose that Paul must not be left out in 
 the cold." On the following Sunday the Bishop was again 
 hard at work, first conducting Service and preachino- to the 
 soldiers, then hurrying to the other end of the ship and 
 addressing the saloon passengers ; and finally giving a Mis- 
 sionary address in the evening, in consequence of which one 
 of his hearers gave him j^5 for his Diocese. There were 
 
^t. 37.] The Voyage . Out. 363 
 
 some Sussex people on board, who soon told everybody all 
 about him, and he was made a great deal of. 
 
 At Port Said the Bishop and his Chaplain were trans- 
 ferred to the Clio., in which they sailed to Beirut. Then 
 followed five tedious days of quarantine ; but our Bishop 
 was not the man to gnaw his nails and look glum upon 
 such an occasion. Out came his note-books, paint-box, 
 grammar, and writing-desk ; and what with his endless 
 correspondence, languages, and water-colours, the time 
 passed rapidly enough. He says : " It has given me the 
 opportunity of writing up many of my African letters and a 
 kv^ home to odd friends. I am, as usual, full of various 
 little items — reading, painting, writing, etc, — so that I find 
 very little spare time." 
 
 At Beirut and other places he confirmed many Europeans 
 and natives, and visited Christian Missions of every deno- 
 mination, being everywhere well received. From Tiberias 
 he writes to his wife : "What is more, I have been able to 
 stick to my flying colours, and shall finish up, God willing, 
 in a month instead of two ; though I would willingly have 
 trodden those sacred spots for another month." 
 
 From Damascus he visited Bashan and the " giant 
 cities," and so to Tiberias.* He continues: "Mr. 
 Connor,t the Hauran Missionary, accompanied us, and 
 added greatly to the interest of the journey, as he knows 
 many of the great Druse chiefs, and speaks Arabic very 
 fluently, so that we were not only able to hear all that was 
 passing, but also to see into the home life of these chiefs. 
 We were entertained in a 'tent of Kedar.' I visited all the 
 schools near Damascus but one which had been visited by 
 Mr. Allan, I was greatly pleased with what I saw, and 
 encouraged by the work. I am thankful to have been not 
 only the first Bishop, but also the first visitor to inspect 
 this work. Very few travellers venture through the Hauran, 
 
 * " The Bishop would often dismount and walk to keep himself 
 in trim for his African marches." — Letter from the Rev. E. A. Fitch. 
 ■j- The Bishop while in Palestine ordained Mr. W. F. Connor, 
 ether with two native agents, Messrs. Ibraham Baz and Murad 
 Haddad, all admitted to Deacons' Orders. 
 
264 James Hanningtoii. [A.D. 1884. 
 
 on account of the danger from Bedawin,- but, as you know, 
 that was not hkely to prevent your husbind." 
 
 At Jerusalem he was in great request, and got through 
 an immense amount of work, confirming, preaching, and 
 inspecting ; notwithstanding, he found time to visit nearly 
 all the traditional sites of interest. With modern Jerusalem 
 he was not favourably impressed. He writes : " The town 
 is vile, and the sites are chiefly fictions. The Mosque of 
 Omar, however, is a magnificent building, and the whole of 
 a morning was soon swallowed up inspecting it. 1 had the 
 benefit of the architect who is superintending the repairs, and 
 who accompanied me and pointed out all the noticeable fea- 
 tures and the few discoveries which have been lately made." 
 
 He was much amused to find how great a personage he 
 had suddenly become, and what a vast difference there was 
 in the estimation of some people between Mr. Hannington 
 and the Bishop of Eastern Equatorial Africa. He writes to 
 his wife, with a pen that reveals a quiet smile, " I find that 
 people stand rather in awe of your poor husband ; but 1 am 
 sure that they need not, for I am an exceedingly meek and 
 unpretentious individual." 
 
 Had they seen him leaping through the pools at Martin- 
 hoe in his episcopal apron and gaiters, would they any longer 
 have stood in awe of him ? Perhaps not ; but they would 
 have loved him none the less. 
 
 New Year's Day, 1885, the commencement of the last 
 year of his short life, was the last day of his sojourn in 
 Palestine. It was spent at Jaffa, which he describes as 
 " a complete sea of oranges." While there he inspected Miss 
 Arnott's school, of which he jots down the following appre- 
 ciatory note : " Much pleased, the singing being especially 
 good. I wrote in the book to the effect that this was 
 the best school I had inspected." 
 
 Mr. Fitch, writing of the time which he spent with his 
 Bishop in Palestine, says : "How kind and gentle he was 
 to all ; how considerate for others, and anxious not to give 
 an offence, even where a rebuke was necessary; and so 
 spiritually-minded, walking so closely with God. I shall 
 never forget our journey together. Every morning, often 
 
JEt 37.] Work in Palestine. 265 
 
 in the early dusk, we would have prayers together, and 
 always the Hundred-and-twenty-first Psalm, which I had to 
 read. If the books had been packed away, the Bishop him- 
 self would say the psalm by heart. He was so kind and 
 genial ; everybody loved him. Wherever he went there 
 was a brightness. On board ship all loved him. Wherever 
 we went in Palestine the people complained that their time 
 with him was too short." 
 
 On January 2nd the African party embarke 1 on board 
 the Ettore., from which, in due course, after visiting Cairo 
 and the Pyramids, and holding out the right hand of fellow- 
 ship to all the Christian workers whom they were able to 
 reach, they exchanged to the Snrat at Suez. A less pro- 
 fitable exchange was again made at Aden, into the Baghdad., 
 bound for Mombasa. The Bishop writes in his pocket- 
 book : " My heart sank as I smelt the cockroaches and 
 bilge-water." A polite and obliging captain, however, 
 made up for many discomforts, and the weather being pro- 
 pitious, the voyage was concluded pleasantly enough. 
 
 " The Chaplain most indignant with me for betraying 
 that he had not crossed the line, not knowing that there is 
 not a sufficient staff on board to enact the part of Neptune 
 and his crew. Mr. Gordon, the ship's purser, and the 
 Chaplain, are getting wrought up to a tremendous pitch 
 about Neptune ; alas ! that he cannot come on board 1 " 
 There is little doubt that these fears would not be calmed 
 by that old and accomplished hand at teasing. 
 
 Next, the father's voice is heard in the little pocket- 
 book : "To-day we get into the latitude of flying-fish. They 
 completely swarm ; flying out of the vessel's way by shoals. 
 Two flew on board, I wish the children could see them ! 
 
 "Onward we go, winds and waves helping us; and 
 to-day, Jan. 31st, we cross the line, nobody knows exactly 
 when, and no Neptune. And now we must find a new 
 string to the teasing bow, or fall back upon Taylor's 
 ' theories.' " 
 
 Onward he went, winds and waves helping him. No 
 contrary gales this time ; all things were made easy for that 
 last voyage which was to conduct him to his death. The 
 
2/0 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 and precision of those advertisements you see hanging up 
 at railway stations ! But — one shudders slightly (a kind of 
 half-gratified shudder, as we reap the benefit) to see such 
 
 palatial residences Then followed grief, sorrow, 
 
 amazement, which increases, to find the Missionaries dwell- 
 ina; in houses of cedar, and the ark scarce resting in 
 curtains. . . . This must strike most painfully on all 
 comers. . . . The opinion of the world is not what 
 we should care about, but this cannot be right. And I 
 mean to stick to my opinion." 
 
 Others than Bishop Hannington had, indeed, noticed this 
 fact. Mr. Joseph Thomson, for example, writes, rather 
 sarcastically: "This charming European settlement sug- 
 gested the mental ejaculation that, however dark and dreary 
 might be the moral and religious outlook, temporally the 
 lines of the Missionaries had fallen in pleasant places." 
 
 The Bishop felt most strongly that this ought not so to 
 be. And one of his earliest cares was to remove this 
 reproach, and arrange for the building of a church which 
 should be worthy of the head-quarters of the Mission. 
 Writing to Mr. Wigram^ he says : 
 
 "And now, be frightened, and talk about 'new brooms;' 
 but we have quite decided to appeal for a new church. I 
 won't fulminate by this mail, but we must have a decent 
 church. Not a tin ark, or a cocoa-nut barn, but a proper 
 stone church, a church to the glory of God ; and so, in spite 
 of famine and other difficulties, let us strike for it now."* 
 
 * It is right to state that, about ten years before, a <;um of 
 ^1000 was provided for the erection of a church at Frere Town. 
 Owing, however, to the wreck of a dhow which contained a con- 
 siderable portion of the materials purchased at Bombay, and to 
 other causes, only sufificient reached Frere Town wherewith to 
 build a school-room. The C. M. S. very properly does not hold 
 itself responsible for the building of permanent churches. ^Vhen 
 a community of native Christians has been formed, and the 
 preaching chapels no longer suffice for their wants, the building of 
 a suitable church is left to their own individual effort, aided by a 
 special grant and such appeals to the Church at home as Bishop 
 Hannington proposed on this occasion to make. 
 
^t. 27-1 Festina Lente. 271 
 
 One of the first aims of the Bishop was to stir up in 
 his diocese a keen desire for souls, which should not be 
 satisfied by merely external improvement in the moral and 
 social state of the natives. He knew that personal holiness 
 among the workers was the only surety for work of this 
 kind. Both by example, and by his stirring addresses, he 
 inculcated a high s-tandard of Christian life. 
 
 In no place more than in Africa are George Herbert^s 
 quaintly-sounding words verified : 
 
 "Who keeps no guard upon himself is slack, 
 And rots to nothing at the next great thaw. 
 Man is a shop of rules ; a well trussed pack, 
 Whose every parcel underwrites a law. 
 Lose not thyself, nor give thy humours way ; 
 God gave them to thee under lock and key." 
 
 Both men and institutions are apt to grow " slack " when 
 long removed from the wholesome stimulus of public 
 opinion. 
 
 The man who is long separated from the elevating and 
 stirring influence of his equals and betters needs to main- 
 tain a high level of spirituality lest he should sink to the 
 low level of those by whom he is constantly surrounded ; 
 with whose customs he becomes daily more familiarized, and 
 of whose frailties he almost insensibly becomes more and 
 more tolerant. There have been terrible falls in Africa. 
 Hannington felt that if his diocese was to shine as a City of 
 God, it must be occupied by a body of men who were united 
 together by the consciousness that each one was himself 
 united to the Lord of the Church. During his short epis- 
 copate he did much to infuse spiritual life and vigour into 
 every man, and every branch of every department of the 
 work. 
 
 He found an excellent organization, good schools, and 
 a crowded church.* Into this well-ordered community 
 he came as a spiritual impetus, and as one who was well 
 fitted to supply the one crying need of that time — the 
 leadership of a master mind, whose authority was properly 
 
 *At the daily Morning Service at 6.30 a.m., Hannington 
 noticed on one occasion about 500 present. 
 
273 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 constituted and generally acknowledged, to bind together 
 the individual workers, and give them the impulse of a 
 body united under one head. A flock of shepherds is well 
 nigh as helpless without a head shepherd, as without them 
 is a flock of scattered sheep. 
 
 The Bishop set about altering such few things as needed 
 reformation with consummate tact. Take the case of the 
 Mission steamer as an example. He is writing to the 
 Secretary of the C. M. S. to ascertain exactly what amount 
 of authority they will authorize him to exercise over their 
 lay agents : 
 
 " I feel that I may without hesitation speak in the 
 highest terms of the seagoing qualities and the pace of the 
 Henry Wriglit. I am more than gratified and surprised. 
 Of course, I am comparing her with other vessels and 
 yachts of her own size. Some who have spoken of her 
 discomforts only remember P. and O. boats, and I might 
 thus appear to contradict them, and make Salisbury Square 
 wonder which to believe. As to the condition in which she 
 is, I find that terrible ; and the tale of the \Vest Coast will 
 soon be repeated unless attention is paid to this. I at once 
 spoke my mind, but at present have met with little response 
 and plenty of excuses and objections. 
 
 " I find that I don't really know what authority I have, 
 and what arrangements you have made with the captain. 
 You must let me know fully about this, and let him (and 
 others) know whether I am to act as your representative. 
 I find him a very nice and kind man, most attentive to all 
 my wants, and 1 think that I have gained his estimation by 
 being capable of taking a spell at the wheel, and turnino- 
 out at about 2 a.m. to see that things were proceeding com- 
 fortably. At the same time, there is very little recognition 
 of the fact that the ship must be kept differently, otherwise 
 decay, moth, rust, etc., will do their work. The difficulty 
 is, that the sailors would strike for higher wages. I offer 
 a solution, namely, that the best man be raised a little and 
 made a petty (very petty) officer. That No. 2 be dis- 
 charged if he will not do more work, and another be 
 
JEt27'l Ubiquitous. 273 
 
 engaged at a lower rate. That every day when the Henry 
 Wright is in harbour, three or four of the schoolboys be 
 sent off to be trained in cleaning the ship. These boys 
 could then, after a time, easily get berths as officer's ser- 
 vants on the steamer, or would come in for house boys. I 
 do not know how you, or Handford, or the captain will 
 receive this ; but of one thina: I am certain — something 
 must be done. If you can give me no autocracy,* you will 
 not inform the captain of this. ... I have gently 
 assumed that I am to act for you, taking care not to place 
 myself in a false position, or rather lay myself open to a 
 refusal before I could meet it." 
 
 He determined that he would not rest until he had put 
 all things in order; but as it had been at Hurstpierpoint, so 
 it would be in Africa, his suggestions would be so gently 
 and seasonably made that the reformed would probably look 
 upon themselves as the reformers. In the meanwhile he 
 roused up everybody by his own indefatigable energy. 
 None could settle with any comfort upon their lees while the 
 Bishop stirred about so briskly, and displayed such boundless 
 powers of locomotion. To-day in Mombasa, to-morrow at 
 Zanzibar, a few days later at Taita, again prospecting around 
 Kilima-njaro, and, suddenly, while all thought him far away 
 in the interior, reappearing in the streets of Frere Town. 
 No one knew where next to expect their Bishop. He car- 
 ried with him an atmosphere which annihilated stagnation. 
 All were kept in expectation and movement, and while he 
 thus set the example of unsparing application to the work of 
 the Mission, he also in the most quietly practical manner 
 demonstrated what in Africa is not always easy to put into 
 practice — is it easy anywhere? — the duty of considering 
 others' comfort before one's own. 
 
 Mr. Copplestone has communicated to me one example 
 of this among many such which is very characteristic of 
 Hannington's way of life. He says : "■ On our arrival at 
 
 * The Bishop afterwards learned that he was regarded as the 
 Head of the Mission, and that the Committee had given him full 
 authority to do all that was necessary. 
 
 18 
 
"74 James Hanningion. [A.D. 1085. 
 
 Frere Town wc had another exhibition of his grand unsel- 
 fishness. He made us put up at his own house^ the palace, 
 and, out of the two bedrooms, he gave one to Mr. Hooper 
 and the other to myself, while he himself occupied a small 
 place close under the roof; ■ and, do what we would, we 
 could not persuade him to change his purpose.''' That was 
 his notion of the manner in which " humanity " should be 
 showed to strangers.* 
 
 Acts of this kind which call forth no heroic self-sacrifice, 
 but which merely entail personal discomfort on behalf of 
 others, are ever the hardest to perform graciously, and the 
 rarest. But by such the memory of a man lingers longer 
 in the hearts of his friends than if, on some supreme occa- 
 sion, he had ventured his life for them. 
 
 One of the Bishop's first acts was, of course, to pay a 
 complimentary visit to the Arab Governor of Mombasa. 
 The Governor, whom Mr. Thomson mentions as not being 
 on a very friendly footing with the Missionaries, had been 
 superseded by another^ of whom Hannington says that he 
 was " a very nice man." It is amusing to note in the day's 
 brief entry in the tiny pocket-book the words : •' Weather 
 less warm ; in spite of Bp.'s clothes, felt cool." Our 
 traveller, who would, if he could, have willingly imitated 
 Fox, and donned a "perennial suit" of some ever-enduring 
 substance, was evidently rather impatient of his episcopal 
 apron and gaiters. He would not be quite comfortable until 
 he could once more thrust himself into that old coat of rusty 
 brown tweed, in which he had botanized on Lundy, scaled 
 the Alps at Zermatt, and walked nearly a thousand miles 
 to and from the great Nyanza. 
 
 A few days after his arrival he gave a great feast to the 
 inhabitants, at which 800 sat down to curry and rice. 
 Afterwards, he says, "they beat the drum and danced; 
 one or two of the different tribal dances were very curious." 
 
 " Sunday, Feb. i.— Handford has had a kind of throne 
 made for me outside the chancel rails, and to-day I was 
 
 * " Vidi necesse esse habere episcopum exhibere humanitatem 
 quisccnque venienlibus sive transeuntibus." — S. AUGUST. 
 
^t. 37.] Bishop Smythies. 275 
 
 enthroned. Administered the Holy Communion. About 
 60 present," 
 
 The next day he left in the Henry Wright for Zanzibar 
 to visit the Sultan and Sir John Kirk. He was also anxious 
 to have a talk with Bishop Smythies. The Consul, how- 
 ever, was away from home, and Bishop Smythies was on the 
 mainland, at Magila. Hannington at once made up his 
 mind to cross to Pangani and walk to the Station of the 
 Universities' Mission. The heat on the road was frightful. 
 Hannington was not yet " in training," and he found that 
 the twenty-five mile walk along the waterless track taxed 
 his strength to the utmost. Indeed, he got a touch of the 
 sun, and fell, half-fainting, in the path. A donkey was sent 
 to meet him from Mkuzi, and he remained there for the 
 night, hospitably entertained by Mr. Wallis, the clergyman 
 in charge. The diary continues : 
 
 "Too much exhausted to talk or do anything. Man- 
 aged, however, to attend Evening Service. An alarm of 
 an attack by Wadigo, a savage tribe, before going to bed. 
 Couldn't sleep for heat, fleas, mosquitoes, and extreme 
 exhaustion. Very poorly in morning. Attended Morning 
 Service, but had great difficulty in sitting up to breakfast. 
 After mid-day, however, the heat, 90° in the shade, fell 
 rapidly. I revived, and started on the donkey. After 
 riding about eight miles, the Bishop met me with a hearty 
 welcome. 
 
 "Next day, Sunday, 6.30 a.m., the Bishop held a 
 Confirmation. JVlitre and Cope. Address very good. After 
 the Services of the day, in the cool of the afternoon, I had 
 a long talk with the Bishop ; with all his ritualism he is 
 strong on the point of conversion, and is very particular 
 about Baptism and Communion not being administered 
 before conversion, either to heathen or professing Christians. 
 Monday, 4.30, left on donkey, the Bishop accompanying 
 me a long distance on the road." 
 
 Three days later he called on Sir John Kirk, who 
 strongly advised him to advance the Mission to Taveta and 
 Chagga, and after an interview with the Sultan and his 
 
276 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 commander-in-chief, Gen. Matthews, he once more steamed 
 northward in his own vessel, the Henry Wright. He says : 
 " No one who has not experienced the horrors of a voyage 
 in an African dhow can appreciate what a comfort this little 
 steamer is to us." 
 
 They did not reach Frere Town until Sunday morning, 
 as the engmes of the boat were rather out of order. " Very 
 surprised to find that a new aisle to the church had been 
 tommenced without my hearing a word about it. To- 
 morrow I must speak, not to-day." 
 
 Mr. Handford had evidently not yet accustomed himself 
 to the idea that he was no longer commander-in-chief at the 
 Station. On the followmg day a Committee Meeting was 
 held of all the workers^ to discuss the affairs of the Mission. 
 The following brief entry in the pocket-book refers to it : 
 "We discussed some disagreeable questions, but all passed 
 oft' well, and I feel that matters will in future be less 
 difScult for me." 
 
 It was clear that the new Bishop would require all his 
 tact to maintain his just authority without causing an 
 uncomfortable amount of friction. But if friendship and 
 general hearty good-will were to be preserved together 
 with discipline and obedience, this was surely the man to 
 effect it. 
 
 A day or two later he writes : " All I can do is letters, 
 letters, letters, with just a little exercise and a good many 
 interruptions. Things going smoothly, and niuc/i more 
 conijortabk for me than before. The Lord be praised." 
 
 Bishop Hannington wrote a great number of important 
 and valuable letters from Frere Town, which throw light 
 on everything of which they treat, and help to disentangle 
 some knotty questions. Though his own supervision of the 
 diocese was so brief, it will be found that he has done much 
 to clear the way for his successor, and to make his position 
 a plain and simple one. We may heie give quotations 
 from sjine of these letters, without placing them in their 
 chronological order. 
 
 It was not long before the vexed question, whether 
 Missionaries should take tneir wives with them to unhealthy 
 
vEt. 37.] Letter on the Marriage Question. 277 
 
 and perilous posts, came up for discussion. On this subject 
 the Bishop's experience led him to form a very strong 
 opinion. He was not aware at the time that the Sub-Com- 
 mittee on African Missions quite agreed with him, and took 
 his view of the matter. The letter is given as eminently 
 characteristic. 
 
 "With regard to the Marriage Question, I have already 
 spoken strongly, for I feel strongly, and am therefore pre- 
 pared to act somewhat strongly if I am constrained to do so. 
 
 " Granted that the help of ladies in every station would 
 be of very great advantage, I am certain that we are not yet 
 sufficiently advanced for ladies, especially young married 
 women, to enter upon the work. It is little short of 
 homicide to permit them to go beyond the neighbourhood 
 of the coast. However, if, in spite of your recent terrible 
 experience, you feel differently, I will most reluctantly con- 
 sent that the region of Usagara — z'.t?., Mpwapwa or Mam- 
 boia — be again tried; but nothing shall induce me to give 
 my consent that ladies should attempt to cross the Wa- 
 nyamwezi deserts in the present state of the country. As 
 a hardy, even somewhat reckless, traveller, I shudder at 
 the idea of attempting these, by and by, myself. With 
 
 regard to laymen, as , I have no legal jurisdiction, 
 
 and the matter rests with you ; but I refuse in any way to 
 correspond or work with such, deeply as I should regret 
 it, if he is permitted to take a young wife beyond 
 Mpwapwa. 
 
 "With regard to , I have jurisdiction; and I 
 
 refuse to have him located beyond Mpwapwa, or in any 
 other spot, until my sanction has been obtained. And what 
 I have said about these two individual cases will apply to 
 all others ; that is, until the present state of things is 
 changed, and medical men can be placed at the various 
 
 stations. Personally I have no objection to obtaining 
 
 leave of absence, returning to England and marrying, then 
 
 leaving his wife and proceeding to Uyui ; nor to 
 
 marrying now and doing the same, letting their wives re- 
 main in England until after their first confinement; then 
 
2/8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885- 
 
 I would, if I am still alive, reluctantly consent to their 
 attempting to reach so far. But to send young married 
 
 women like up country, where there is no medical 
 
 aid at hand, is, if you will forgive me for saying so, a rash 
 folly, to which I will never consent. 
 
 " Had we time to write backwards and forwards on 
 this subject, I would not have written in this very dogmatic 
 and perhaps irritating strain ; but as there is no time for 
 correspondence, I think it better to let you know exactly 
 how I feel, and how 1 am prepared to act." 
 
 By all which it will be seen that the good Bishop knew 
 how to think and act with decision, and that he had the 
 courage of his opinions. He continues this subject in 
 another letter as follows : 
 
 " 's recent very severe illness in her confinement, 
 
 and 's case, which appears to have been greatly aggra- 
 vated by nursing, and the probable return of both makes 
 me feel that it is my duty once more to bring the marriage 
 question before you. 
 
 "In addition to these two, I feel that I cannot but revert 
 
 to what I hear of the late Mrs. here in Zanzibar ; 
 
 namely, that without a proper nurse, without either of them 
 understanding about such cases, she was treated from a few 
 rules laid down in an old-fashioned book. She dies, and we 
 talk about 'the mysteries of Providence ' ! It would surely 
 be a greater mystery if in such a case she had lived. In 
 the face of this and the other deaths, I was quite shocked 
 
 to hear of 's proposed marriage. I hear also of 
 
 another married couple wishing to go to Mamboia . . . 
 and you will remind me that I . . . consented that such 
 should go so tar. Now, however, after further experience, 
 I feel that I have done wrong even in consenting to this. 
 I therefore wish to withdraw my acquiescence, and to send 
 you my more developed views. Again I acknowledge the 
 great help that Christian ladies aie in all the stations ; also 
 the immense comfort of their society to our isolated Mis- 
 sionaries, and that their presence would often hush scan- 
 dalous whispers; notwithstanding, seeing how difficult 
 
^t. 37.] On the Baptism of Slave Children. I'JC) 
 
 African travel is — how inexperienced the newly-married 
 are — the entire absence of nurses qualified to wait upon 
 Europeans — the almost entire absence of medical aid — and, 
 above all, reading in the cases we have had before us the 
 unmistakable voice of God — I feel in conscience bound to 
 protest against any newlv-married ladies being sent to any 
 of our stations beyond Frere Town, Rabai, and their im- 
 mediate neighbourhood." 
 
 In a succeeding letter he deals with the matter in a 
 lighter strain, and says : 
 
 " With regard to your suggestion about a lady-helper — 
 that is, I quite believe, what we want here ; and the right 
 person would be of the greatest assistance. 
 
 " A dash of the obstetrix would be exceedingly useful, 
 and would relieve my mind very greatly. If she has had no 
 experience in such matters, could not a little be gained 
 before coming out \ 
 
 " P.S. — While I shudder at the thought of young 
 married women coming out, I should gladly welcome a few 
 strapping old maids, who could go about by twos even to 
 U-Ganda. Send out a dozen to try." 
 
 Another important letter deals with the question of the 
 Baptism of Children of Slaves : 
 
 " I find that the custom has been to baptize children 
 up to the age of eight years, who have been received from 
 slave dhows, etc. Hence they get Christian names, and 
 are, of course, educated as far as is possible as Christians, 
 and go out into the world as such. The education they 
 receive, good as it is, in too many cases does not seem to lead 
 to conversion ; and so these go forth, some of them with very 
 bad characters, yet bearing the name of Frere Town converts 
 and Christians. This is, of course, the history of the 
 Church at home, and its bane, but might surely be pre- 
 vented here without our being accused of being Baptists. 
 Bp. Smythies, I rejoice to find, feels very strongly as I do, 
 and insists that in the churches of the interior there shall 
 be no baptism till after conversion. 
 
28o James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 " You will understand, of course^ that I am not now 
 speaking of the children of Christian parents. As to the 
 others, the present system allows a number to go forth into 
 the world as baptized, while in a most unsatisfactory state, 
 and who would never have been admitted to baptism had 
 they been kept m the school some few years previously. 
 
 " The argument in favour of the baptism of these 
 orphan children is that we Christians then become their 
 foster-parents. Yes, — -but then they come to us not as 
 infants, but as children who have from their earliest years 
 grown up in all possible wickedness." 
 
 This letter is very interesting, as throwing light upon 
 such complaints as those so freely made by Mr. Johnston 
 and other travellers as to the worthlessness of many of 
 the "Mission boys." The question propounded is a knotty 
 one, but no doubt some practical solution will in time be 
 found. 
 
 Another letter deals with the Ordination and Licensing 
 of Catechists : 
 
 " With regard to the Ordination of the two natives, 
 William Jones and Ishmael Sember, they both express a 
 wish to delay for another year, and far be it from me to 
 thrust them into office. However, as far as I can discover, 
 their only reasons appear to be the examination. They 
 dread to be examined. 
 
 "I find these two men in particular holding services, 
 preaching on week days and Sundays, and preaching at Frere 
 Town when there have been as many as four white 
 teachers present. William Jones has also had entire 
 spiritual charge of Rabal for some months ; I feel, there- 
 fore, that if it is simply a matter of shirking examination I 
 cannot give way to it. 
 
 " 1 feel strongly, too, that all these men who preach in 
 the regular Church Services ought to be examined by me, 
 that I may judge whether they are really fit to teach. 
 
 "I am, therefore, proposing to examine AXxh^ preaclicrs 
 in the Old and New Testaments, and in the rudiments 
 of the Gospel of Christ. If I find them satisfactory, I 
 
yEt. 37-] On the Ordination of Natives. 281 
 
 will give them a licence as lay readers and helpers. This 
 examination will include Jones and Ishmael. If they 
 pass this satisfactorily, I shall, if we really find that this 
 is the only obstacle, be ready to extend their licence to 
 Deacon's Orders. At all events, I will sound them on the 
 subject." 
 
 The Bishop had a high opinion of native capacity. In 
 a private letter he writes : " I do not at present think that 
 U-Ganda itself wants ' the flood of Europeans ' about which 
 our brethren talk. ' Not by might nor by power, but by 
 My Spirit.' I believe (between ourselves — whisper it not) 
 — I believe that with the present staff' of natives, Frere 
 Town and Rabai could be worked by one European effec- 
 tively. I am sure, however, unsatisfactory as natives often 
 are, that not enough is done to develop any of their powers, 
 except those which relate to laying a cloth. However, 
 you must take what I say cum grano — I am a fresh 
 comer." 
 
 The following extract is interesting, as throwing some 
 light upon the special difficulties of a first Bishop in a 
 Mission district. Also as displaying his own spiritual tho- 
 roughness, and discontent with any reform that stopped 
 short of the actual conversion of souls to God. 
 
 " I am almost afraid to discourse on Frere Town, lest I 
 should seem to throw any reflection upon the work which 
 is being done. We have an admirable lay secretary in the 
 
 Rev. ; still, I am sure that there is an economy which 
 
 may suit the lay department, but will not pay in the end. I 
 want to hear more about saving souls than saving pice. 
 I want to see far more Church order. I should like to 
 know that the weeds are being pulled out of the hearts, 
 while those in the shambas are not permitted to run wild. 
 I pray that Mr. England * may be just the man to reach 
 the souls of the boys in the school, for I do not see so many 
 signs of their being reached now as I could wish. I do 
 not want to be extravagant, but too much time can 
 
 * A lay schoolmaster then being sent from home. 
 
282 James Hannington. [A.D. 1S85. 
 
 be spent saving pence, even in the Mission field ; so 
 beware of over-economy. I have failed, at present, to get 
 anything done for the first-class boys to bring them on to a 
 higher grade of education, and prepare them for the 
 Ministry, and for school teaching, or the medical profession. 
 Surely, if a native Ministry is to be raised up, something 
 of this kind should be done. At present, even the best 
 teachers are kept at table dusting, etc. ; which, however 
 good for their morals, is not, I think, the education to aim 
 at. Economy in this direction will never pay in the end. 
 I shall point out these things to Mr. England, if I see him 
 when he arrives." 
 
 The Bishop concludes his letter as follows : 
 
 " I do hope you will not think that I am writing in the 
 spirit of bitterness. These men that I have written about 
 in an apparent spirit of complaint have far more excellencies 
 than shortcomings. I only wish that your poor little bishop 
 possessed many of their good qualities." 
 
 The following letter to Mr. Eugene Stock is full of 
 specimens of Hannington's own style when writing to his 
 intimate friends. But beneath his comic descriptions of 
 himself as boiling over with passion while he brandishes his 
 " rancorous pen,'" one can read his intense love for the 
 country of his adoption, and his devotion to his work.* 
 
 "My dear Stock, — I am not certain whether }'oi! 
 have thrown me overboard altogether, on account of my 
 perverse signature.! I give you credit, however, for being 
 nearly driven to death during the last month or two, and so 
 have had to pass me by. JL wish friends would give me 
 credit for being overdriven sometimes. They won't, how- 
 ever. But now, before I take another plunge into the 
 interior, let me give you an account of the proceedings of 
 the last three weeks, and if you don't doctor it up and use 
 
 '' See page 269. 
 
 f He had adopted the signature James, Bishop of East Equa- 
 torial Africa (or as he usually wrote it, Bp. E. Eq. Af.), onnitting 
 the " Hannington," as he thought that his own individuahty would 
 be thereby merged and lost in his Office, and in his work. 
 
/Et. 37.] Letter to Mr. Eugene Stock. 2S3 
 
 it, at least get it into something for me, for we must keep 
 ourselves before the public* I am simply boiling over with 
 passion at the gross neglect of East Africa at the May 
 Meeting. Does such a place exist in the mind of the 
 Committee ? If it e\er had entered mv head that no repre- 
 sentation was to be made, I believe I should ha\ e slipped 
 home the night before, and back again the following day, 
 had it only been to have shouted, ' East Equatorial Africa 
 needs your prayers !' I don't regard a stupid little notice 
 in the Report about myself as anything at all. Men in 
 England do not realize how desperately hard the battle has 
 to be fought out here. 
 
 " I am in a capital temper with Lang's last letters to 
 Handford and myself. Things have been going on very nicely 
 between us lately. May the brethren who are coming out 
 impart to us many rich spiritual blessings. I hope dear sister 
 Maria and her boys are progressing ? Just as I write, the 
 girls in llie school have struck up the Vesper Hymn, and 
 warmed my soul, when I think that here, too, we are fellow- 
 labourers with her and other dear Christians. Striving 
 together for the Faith. 
 
 " One more thrust from my rancorous pen and I have 
 done. Letters from Salisbury Square are so awfully official 
 and full of business, that we are all complaining we find 
 no spiritual lozenges to revi\'e us. Would not some dear 
 Christian soul in the Committee undertake to write us 
 religious letters^ and enclose little leaflets and choice crumbs 
 — enquire after our souls, and draw out the depths of our 
 heart. Ask for a volunteer for E. Eq. Africa, and 1 am 
 certain he will be greatly appreciated. If business expels 
 religious intercourse in letters between father and son (Cust 
 says the relationship is parental, as vou proxide us with 
 false teeth) woe, woe ! death in the pot. 
 
 " I do not know that I have much more to say on paper : 
 should I not like an hour or two with you in the little study 
 in Milner Square ! Did I tell you that the Sultan, through 
 Sir John, had offered Mbaruk 400 dollars a year and a 
 
 * This was accompanied by a long I\IS., containing an account 
 of a missionary journey. 
 
284 James Hannington. [A.D. 1S85. 
 
 shamba in Zanzibar ? This he declined. I have other 
 terms to suggest, and I hope that I may be the means of 
 getting him out of FuJladoyo and occupying the land.* I 
 am rather expecting a fearful rebuke from Salisbury Square, 
 and a warning not to meddle with other men's matters, and 
 not to rush hither and thither, but to settle into a confirm- 
 ing machine. But Africa must be won for Christ. 
 
 " Yea, I belie\e at this time ' sliall the present be 
 brought unto the Lord of a people scattered and peeled, and 
 from a people terrible from their beginning Iiitlierto.' And 
 so I go forward, the Lord being my helper, to endeavour to 
 open up the country of the Masai. — A fleetly yours, 
 
 " James, Bp. £. Eq. Afr. 
 
 " ' Watchman, what of the nighl; .'' ' " f 
 
 Thus many matters are discussed with the Committee 
 of the Church Missionary Society, and various members of 
 it — some lightly, some gravely, but all with a good-humoured 
 insistance, which reveals at the same time the loving nature 
 of the man, and the hold which his work had taken upon 
 his heart. Writing to a friend, he says : — 
 
 " I feel daily my own awful imperfections and short- 
 comings. Why did they make me a Bishop \ Have they 
 not — are they not, bitterly repenting it ? " But imme- 
 diately his heart is lifted up, and he cries, " Has not our 
 loving Father been gracious to me ! Oh, for a heart to 
 praise my God ! " 
 
 '-' See page 312. 
 
 f He almost always wrote a motto, or watchword, at the foot of 
 his letters. 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 THE KILIMA-NJARO EXPEDITION. VISIT TO CHAGGA. 
 
 (1885. MARCH, APRIL.) 
 
 " The tartarous moods of common men.'' 
 
 Ben Jonson. 
 
 " I am being taught never to be disappointed, but to Praise.'' 
 
 Bishop Hannington. 
 " But ever at each period 
 He stopped and sang ' Praise God ! ' 
 Then back again his curls he threw, 
 And cheerful turned to work anew." 
 
 RoBT. Browning. 
 
 Bishop Hannington had not been long at Frere Town 
 before he was called upon to consider the condition of Taita, 
 which was then his furthest advanced post along that route 
 westward. The Mission Station at Taita is planted upon 
 the lofty mountain Ndara, and is separated from the coast 
 by some two hundred miles* of difficult and dangerous 
 desert. Mr. Wray, who had the honour of being the 
 pioneer thus far into the wilderness, had gathered around 
 him a number of learners ; but his position had lately be- 
 come very critical, owing to a prolonged famine which was 
 devastating the whole surrounding country, and had brought 
 down the anger of the tribes upon his head, as the possible 
 cause of it. Mr. Wray's little flock in Ndara suffered ter- 
 ribly from the general want. Great eflforts were made to 
 send up supplies of food from Frere Town, and many lives 
 were thus saved ; but, owing to the distance and the neces- 
 
 * Comp. Mr. Thomson's estimate of the distance which is 
 added to the absolute mileage in a straight line Irom Mombasa by 
 the windings of the desert path. — Through Masai Land, p. 188. 
 
286 Janus Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 sitjr of crossing the horriWe, waterless desert of Tare, the 
 difficulty of sending caravans was immense. 
 
 Bishop Hannington determined that he would himself 
 go to the front, and be siiided in his future action bj' what 
 he saw there. He therefore lost no time, but made up a 
 caravan of porters, and sending them forward to Bandera, 
 at the head of the creek, joined them on February 
 25th. From Bandera a steep ascent of an hour and a half 
 brought them to the pretty Mission Station of Rabai. Here 
 the people were expecting the Bishop, and a tumultuous 
 welcome awaited him. The firing of guns, and the dancing 
 and shouting of the excited natives, continued without inter- 
 mission from six o'clock until ten. The Bishop says : — " I 
 joined in one of the dances — a kind of puss-in-the-corner- 
 drop-handkerchief — to the intense delight of the natives. 
 Henceforth we are friends." 
 
 The next morning, Thursday, the native catechist, Mr. 
 Jones, whom he afterwards ordained, preached to a densely 
 crowded congregation. We may quote here a passage from 
 Mr. Thomson : — " I arrived while service was being con- 
 ducted by !Mr. Jones, the native teacher. Not to disturb 
 the meeting, I stepped in behind the gathering, and was 
 greatlv struck by the appearance of the well-filled church, 
 the strict attention of the audience (who were all dressed in 
 the height of Rabai fashion), and the fluency of the 
 preacher.'' The Bishop was also most favourably impressed 
 by the appearance of everything at Rabai. He spent his 
 time there verv busily in completing his preparations for the 
 march into the interior. The . following jottings appear 
 in his fK>cket-book : — " Alade my boys, Robert Living- 
 stone and Legh Richmond, wash, gixing them a lesson in 
 
 the art Grand cooking preparations. I give a 
 
 feast to-day, at which I expect about six hundred guests. 
 
 Our boys, to my bitter disappointment, caught 
 
 stealing. I tied up all four to separate posts, in sight of the 
 feast, for the rest of the day • but it pained me more than it 
 did them. About twelve the feast began in earnest, and at 
 about five o'clock the dances and drums. I joined a little in 
 most of the dances, some of which are very grotesque, and 
 
JEt. 27-] Start for the Interior. 287 
 
 it gave the people more satisfaction than anything else. 
 The boys were released earlier than I had at first intended, 
 my heart relenting — and the next morning they stole the 
 sugar. One whom I believe to be at the bottom of all this 
 mischief is to be left behind. He is not my own bov, but 
 was brought at Handford's request. 
 
 " Sunday, J\farch 1st. — I preached from the text, 
 ' What must I do to be saved ? ' Jones interpreting. The 
 church was quite full, many sitting outside. Holy Com- 
 munion afterwards to thirty-four. Fifty candidates are being 
 prepared for Confirmation. 
 
 "At the afternoon Service Jones preached from the 
 I2ist Psalm. It being my travelling Psalm, I take it as a 
 good omen." 
 
 " March 2nd. — Just off 'in excellent health and spirits. 
 "^ I will go in the strength of the Lord.' " 
 
 The Bishop continues : — " By two o'clock all was ready, 
 so we knelt all together in prayer, and then, with no slight 
 emotion, forced our way through the little knots of friends 
 and wives who had come to bid us and our porters — their 
 relatives and husbands — good-bye. We mustered about a 
 hundred, as we had to carry with us a month's food for the 
 starving Wa-Taita, in addition to our own goods. The heat 
 was intense, and nearly made me sick ; the sun almost 
 seemed to bake one alive." 
 
 Mr. Handford went with the Bishop. Soon they left 
 behind them " the cocoa-crowned heights, the verdant 
 ridges — with their stern, sentinel-like fan-palms " — and the 
 cultivated outer slopes, and plunged into the Nyika, or 
 wilderness, beyond. Soon all verdure vanished, and their 
 route lay through a land of desolation and sterility ; an hour 
 or so more, and the glaring red sands of the coast hills were 
 passed, and they entered a more promising region, a grazing 
 country, where were " dense masses of evergreen trees, fes- 
 tooned with creepers, and intersected by green, grassy glades, 
 made gay with beautiful orchids." Ihe Bishop makes no 
 special complaint, but during this first day's march the 
 
288 James Hannington. [A.D. iSSS- 
 
 porters are usually very troublesome. * Mr. Thomson says 
 that the experience of this first day " lowered the level of 
 his enthusiasm more than anything that had yet occurred." 
 No doubt the Mission party had "their troubles. However, 
 Hannington says : — " After marching till sunset, we sud- 
 denly came upon an open glade in the forest, and camped. 
 The first time nothing goes right ; nobody seems to know 
 what to do, or where to go, so someone has to show them. 
 Gaiters, shovel-hat, and apron have all been laid aside for 
 the journey, and so, unmindful of dignity, we rush hither 
 and thither for firewood, and light the fire ; then with a 
 mallet, not without much shouting, we manage to erect the 
 tent ; next the bed, a mysterious puzzle which entirely 
 defies an African head ; and so, pushing one boy in one 
 direction, one in another, we do the thing for ourself, and 
 by eleven o'clock are ready to lie down and get some rest. 
 
 " Soon after 2 a.m. next morning we began to get under 
 weigh, and started at 4 a.m. It looks well for us that we 
 passed the spot where we meant to halt for breakfast with- 
 out knowing it. At about 9 a.m. we arrived at a good big 
 muddy pool, and halted for the day to reorganize. It was 
 a merciful providence that we were led to do so, for the heat 
 was most intense — the men simply lay about under the 
 bushes and groaned. As for myself, I had not even the 
 energy to get out my thermometer until the cool of the 
 evening. Even then it marked 100° Fahrenheit. 
 
 " We had here a good example of the fact that Africans 
 can be plucky sometimes, and will endure great hardships 
 for the sake of wives and children. We were overhauling 
 the men, that we might send back those who were proving 
 themselves unlit for the march through weakness or sickness. 
 One man, Dudu (the " Insect "), was reported as suffering 
 from dysentery rather seriously. 
 
 '•'• Said Handford, ' You too will return, Dudu.' 
 
 " ' I don't want to, Bwana ; I want to go on.' 
 
 " ■■ You cannot, you are not able ; you must go back.' 
 
 " He still pleaded, ' I don't want to.' 
 
 * Thomson, p. 63 ; Johnston, p. 48. 
 
^t. 37.] A Plucky Porter. 289 
 
 " ' Not another word ; if you come with us you will 
 die. Go ! " 
 
 " ' Then I won't.' 
 
 " Handford sprang to his feet at such an unusual occur, 
 rence, and the men standing round raised an astonished cry 
 of shame against Dudu's rebellion ; when I stepped to the 
 front and said, ' Let him come ; he has got some go in him.' 
 
 " From that moment Dudu and I became friends ; 
 but," adds the Bishop, very characteristically, " I must con- 
 fess that he buzzed about me afterwards rather more than I 
 liked." 
 
 Their march now lay through the sterile land of Duruma, 
 where a tribe of Wa-Nyika do their best to maintain them- 
 selves in their thorny jungles against famine on the one hand 
 and Masai raiders on the other. Passing through this region 
 of spiny aloes and cacti, they pressed on through a sandy 
 desert, and halted at the rock pools, or " Ungurungas," of 
 Mount Taro. Hannington writes : 
 
 " Arrived at Taro at 7 a.m. A beautiful spot — an oasis 
 in the desert, with plenty of water, if you don't mind toads 
 and tadpoles and such-like denizens of stagnant pools. We 
 had not been long in camp before a native of a small neigh- 
 bouring village, somewhere in the heart of an impenetrable 
 jungle, crept out and made his way to my tent, and implored 
 me to send his people a teacher and form a Station there. 
 If we did, they could live in peace and cultivate the ground. 
 Now they dared accumulate no possessions, lest they should 
 excite the cupidity of the raiding Wa-Kama. These poor 
 creatures have to eke out a miserable existence on berries, 
 roots, and such game as they can kill with poisoned arrows. 
 I gave him a small present^ which he received with great 
 suspicion. 
 
 " Shortly after this our porters brought two Swahilis to 
 Handford, asserting that they were sure there were slaves 
 close at hand. 
 
 " Some hours later, a cry of ' Slaves, slaves ! ' was 
 raised, and ofF dashed most of the men in the direction of 
 the cry. It appears that one of the porters, searching for 
 
 19 
 
290 James Hannington. [A.D- i^^S- 
 
 firewood, suddenly came upon a caravan, and fearing they 
 would kill him, raised this shout. Expecting a hand-to- 
 hand fight, away we dashed after the men. Away, too, 
 went I, in shirt sleeves and slippers, clutching my gun. 
 The slippers kept coming off, and I was soon outdistancea 
 by Handford. But it did not much matter, as there was no 
 fight. The owners of the caravan decamped when they 
 saw us coming, and left their slaves, one woman and seven 
 children, in the bush. So we found ourselves with eight 
 poor, wretched slaves upon our hands. Such pitiable objects 
 they were, more than half-starved. We decided to send 
 them straight to the coast, in charge of some men. There 
 the Consul freed them, and they were received by the 
 Mission. It was, however, too late ; they never recovered 
 from the cruel treatment they had received, and all died but 
 one. Since this our caravans have liberated two more gangs. 
 The Swahilis are so frightened of being caught and handed 
 over to the authorities, that they simply flee and leave the 
 slaves behind, so that, as Sir John Kirk says, under such 
 circumstances you cannot help yourself; you must take 
 possession of them. We are quite aware that we are not 
 military authorities authorized to enforce the Sultan's laws, 
 r.nd, moreover, that it is not our part as Missionaries to 
 employ force ; and we try as much as possible to avoid 
 interference with any passing caravan. Interference, how- 
 ever, is sometimes thrust upon us. Would to God that we 
 could overthrow this stronghold of Satan with the Sword of 
 the Spirit ! " 
 
 The next march was through the dreaded Taro plain, 
 which stretches almost waterless as far as Taita. For the 
 first few hours after leaving Taro the country is pleasant 
 enough— an undulating, fertile region, well wooded, and not 
 without shade. There is a pool, too, called Ziwani, where 
 ;: mouthful of dirty water may occasionally be obtained. 
 After this an abrupt change takes place in the features of 
 the landscape. Mr. Thomson says : " The ao-reeable 
 alternation of ridge and hollow is exchanged for an appa- 
 rently dead level plain, parched and waterless, as if no drop 
 
^t. 37.] Travellers Dodges. 2gi 
 
 of life-giving rain refreshed the iron-bound soil. The dense 
 jungle, the grassy glades, the open forest, disappear, and their 
 place is taken by what may be called a skeleton forest." 
 
 Such trees as there are are almost wholly leafless ; stern, 
 grey, and shadeless, they present rigid arms or formidable 
 thorns instead of twigs and foliage. All green has vanished. 
 Every sign of life is left behind, a dreary silence reigns 
 supreme throughout this dreadful wilderness. Mr. Johnston, 
 too, speaks of this part of his march as " that terrible 
 journey," and tells how, in the fierce heat of that awful fur- 
 nace, he and his men scarcely reached Mount Maungu alive. 
 
 Let us see how the Bishop and his party crossed this 
 land of death. 
 
 " On the morrow we started for the dreaded Taro 
 plain ; nor did we make a very happy commencement, 
 for, soon after leaving camp, down came the rain in a 
 perfect deluge, so that in a short time the ground was 
 covered with an inch or two of water. Cloth, rice, and 
 other loads were soaked, and their weight much increased 
 for the poor men. We did not find the right track until 
 nightfall. We then halted to wait for the moon, and 
 meanwhile lighted a huge fire, at which we soon dried most 
 of our things ; then, without pitching tents, we snatched an 
 hour or two of sleep in the open. At i a.m. we made a 
 move, and in about two hours Handford and I reached 
 water. But where were the men ? They had, it appeared, 
 allowed us to go on, and then had lighted fires and laid 
 them down to sleep again. Finding that they were not 
 coming, I rolled myself up in a canvas cover, and withdrew 
 a little apart from the others, who were talking, in order to 
 get a nap. Presently, just before I fell asleep, I was roused 
 by the loud growl of a lion quite close at hand, so I took up 
 my bed and went closer to the fire. At 1 1 a.m. we started 
 again and walked till nightfall. Had to camp without 
 water. OfF again at 2 a.m., and by 9 a.m. we reached 
 Maungu, after one of the most trying marches I ever 
 remember. The road is most dismal. It passes through 
 closely-packed thorn bushes, under, over, or through which 
 
292 James Hannington. [A.D. 18S5. 
 
 you have to go. They tear your clothes and flesh, without 
 affording a particle of shade. You can only see a few yards 
 ahead, and the dead-looking forest is so monotonous that I 
 can recall scarcely any special spot or feature as a way mark. 
 I retched with the intense heat. The sun literally seemed 
 to bake one through. At Maungu the men had to climb 
 nearly 2000 feet before they reached the water. I had a 
 slight touch of sun fever, but on we must go, so at 4 p.m. 
 we started again and walked till sunset. Again we camped 
 without water. How little we appreciate our comforts at 
 hor-ie — the blessing of a wash, for instance. No water 
 means almost no wash. Being an old traveller I meet the 
 difficulty by filling my sponge before starting, and tying it 
 tightly in its bag. If we have two days without water, the 
 first day I have what a schoolboy would call a ' lick and a 
 -promise ' ; then the second day I wring out the water, and 
 get quite a brave wash, the water afterwards coming in for 
 xhe dog and the donkey. 
 
 " Another night's march brought us to the foot of Taita 
 Hill. But what a climb ! Three thousand feet of steep, 
 rugged road has to be dealt with as best one can, on hands 
 and knees sometimes. The gneiss rocks which jutted out 
 gave a very poor hold. How tired I was ! The natives 
 choose these fastnesses for a double reason. They are ex- 
 cellent places from which to pounce down upon the weak, 
 while, on the other hand, they are a natural fortress against 
 the strong. After about a thousand feet of climbing we 
 came upon villages, but everywhere deserted. What had 
 once been banana groves and plantations are now patches 
 of rank grass and ill weeds. 
 
 " We found Mr. Wray in a state of semi-siege. The 
 Wa-Kamba had attacked and burned villages in sight of 
 him, and for two days he and his people had been on guard, 
 rearing, I think needlessly, that they might be stormed. 
 Our arrival was a great relief to him, the more so as we 
 brought the much-needed food." 
 
 The mountains of Taita rise to between five and six 
 thousand feet above the plain. Mr. Thomson says : " The 
 
^t- 37-] Famine at Taita. 293 
 
 whole appearance of the Taita highlands is strikingly sug- 
 gestive of an archipelago of islands, rising with great 
 abruptness from a greyish green sea, as the great weird 
 plain, already described, surrounds it on all sides." About 
 two thousand five hundred feet up the side of Mount Ndara 
 is the Mission Station. There Mr. Wray was bravely 
 holding the fort in spite of the difficulties which beset him. 
 The people were dying of starvation, and inclined to curse 
 him as the evil author of their troubles ; but he had, never- 
 theless, won the confidence and affection of those with 
 whom he was able to come into contact. The Bishop 
 writes of him : 
 
 " Corn in the ear he cannot point to, but I found that 
 he had broken up an unusually hard fallow, and sown the 
 seed of which the blade already begins to appear. He is 
 much attached to the people. This being the case, and 
 the station being a valuable link in a line of stations, one 
 would make every effort to keep it going. Yet the famine 
 presses hard. In spite of our supplies of food, many have 
 died, many have left, and many have been killed or captured 
 and sold for slaves. Thus, all the villages, except those 
 immediately under Mr. Wray's wing, are utterly abandoned. 
 The people around him number less than a hundred. These 
 I assembled to hear their opinion upon the situation. They 
 were most decided. 'We do not wish to desert Bwana, 
 but we cannot stop here. Sometimes you feed us, some- 
 times you do not, and then we have to return to eating 
 grass and insects. Not one neighbour have we left. Even 
 if you gave us seed to-morrow, it would be four months 
 before we could get any food.' It seemed then to all of us 
 that, in the face of this, the station could not be continued. 
 With so many demands for missionaries from populous 
 districts, and when, too, these izv7 families could be better 
 and at far less expense cared for at Rabai, it appeared a 
 waste of men and means to let Mr. Wray continue here. 
 I therefore arranged that they should be received at Rabai, 
 and the native catechist, Cicil Mabaruki, who has been 
 under Mr. Wray, and of whom he speaks very highly, will 
 
294 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 be specially told ofF to look after them. If the mountain 
 should again be populated, there will be nothing to prevent 
 us from again taking possession of the same site at any 
 time." 
 
 " Feb. loth saw us on the move again, accompanied by 
 Mr. Wray. The descent on the west side of Taita Hill we 
 found to be much steeper, but shorter and less fatiguing 
 than that on the east. At one part the track led over a 
 smooth, steeply sloping rock, over which it was almost im- 
 possible to get the donkeys. One of them was rather badly 
 hurt. When we reached the bottom, the arms of the great 
 plain which thrusts itself in between the two Taitas had 
 to be crossed, and on the morrow, after forcing our way 
 through a terrible thicket, through which the men with great 
 difEculty got their loads, we encamped near a Wa-Kamba 
 village. We fired our guns, and the men rushed out. These 
 are the people who have so cruelly ravaged Sagalla (Wray's 
 mountain), but they were friendly enough to us, and here 
 we spent our first ' monev,' and for a little cloth bought 
 some heads of Indian corn. 
 
 " Feb. \ith. — A day to be remembered. I must rank it 
 among the red-letter days of my traveller's experience. I 
 led the caravan out at 4.30, and got off clear, but Handford, 
 who brought up the rear, met with some opposition and 
 demands for hongo (here called 'fingo'). One of the 
 village elders blocked his path, and tried to extort a tribute. 
 After a short climb over a steep and rugged track, we 
 rounded the headland of the Bura Mountain, and crossed 
 the beautiful pass of Kilima Kibomu. As we topped a rise, 
 suddenly before our astonished gaze flashed Kilima-njaro in 
 all his glory ! How lovely the great mountain looked — all 
 radiant with the rays of the rising sun. We had, by the 
 best fortune, arrived at this point of vantage just at the hour 
 of sunrise, when the vast silver dome for a short time 
 shakes aside the mist wreaths which during the rest of the 
 day so frequently enswathe his snow-crowned summit. 
 From where we stood, and at this distance, the two peaks — 
 
 the dome- shaped Kibo and the needle- pointed Kimawenzi 
 
 were merged into one ; and only with the glass could I 
 
JEt. 37.] F/rsi Sight of Kiliina-njaro. 295 
 
 distinguish their different outlines. The sight was so sur- 
 passingly beautiful that it called forth long and loud excla- 
 mations from the stolid Africans around us, many of whom 
 had accompanied Thomson or Johnston, some both, and 
 who were well acquainted with the snow-giant. That an 
 African should exclaim, or even take note of any natural 
 scene, however grand, is something quite uncommon ; but 
 now all, black and white alike, were in ecstacy at the 
 magnificence and beauty of the sight. We at once called a 
 halt, and, as long as time permitted, we feasted our eyes on 
 snow under the burning sun of Africa. 
 
 " Too soon we had to resume our weary march, and 
 descending the pass we came to the dreaded hongo station 
 of the Kilima. We met with a little braggadocio on the 
 part of one gentleman, who even threatened to kill any 
 stragglers we might leave behind ; but we told him that we 
 did not mean to leave any, and very placidly wished him 
 good-morning, and passed on, in spite of his war-cry and 
 endeavour to raise the country against us. At the next 
 village, Burra, passing a foot-track which led in the wrong 
 direction, I, according to custom, drew a line across it with 
 my stick, as a signal to those behind not to go that way. 
 An old woman who happened to be standing on the path 
 was seized with a paroxysm of terror. She was fully per- 
 suaded that I had done this to bewitch her, and raised the 
 most fearful shrieks, calling on all around to kill me. 
 Through the woods and over the hills rang her shrill cries, 
 so, as we could not in any way pacify her, and not knowing 
 what might come of it, we left her screaming and hurriedly 
 passed on. 
 
 " We were now on the verge of the vast and almost 
 waterless plain which lies between Taita and Tiveta, and 
 we were warned to expect no water for at least two days. 
 So accordingly, we started, prepared for the worst. This 
 plain exactly fulfils the idea which I had formed of an 
 African plain from pictures and descriptions before I visited 
 the country. It is covered with game of all kinds. Herds 
 of inquisitive zebra came barking and galloping past to 
 inspect the caravan ; hartebeeste, eland, springbuck, and 
 
296 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 other antelopes were to be seen everywhere. The long 
 necks of giraffe issued, serpent-like, from the grass ; and in 
 the dusk one could hear the deep roaring of lions over their 
 meal. Thus the attention was always held occupied by 
 some new or interesting sight, and minutes imperceptibly 
 grew into hours, so that many an otherwise weary mile was 
 passed swiftly by. Moreover, travelling was becoming far 
 easier and more pleasant to me as I got into training. Here, 
 too, at this altitude, the air was much cooler — even cold at 
 night. At one spot we came upon a fire, round which 
 was seated a group of starving Wa-Taita, endeavouring to 
 struggle on to the more fertile districts that surround the 
 mountain. They had already abandoned one woman and 
 child. The mother was dead, but the child we enabled 
 them to rescue by giving them food and encouraging them 
 to return and search for it. Soon afterwards we came, 
 quite unexpectedly, upon water. So the plain was passed 
 without any difficulty. The men found the carcase of an 
 antelope, upon half of which a lion had breakfasted ; over 
 this they were soon quarrelling and feasting. 
 
 "On Saturday, Feb. 14, the dark green shades ofTaveta 
 began to be visible, and soon we entered a dense forest, 
 through which we crept mysteriously, and on tiptoe, lest 
 the inhabitants should hear us and shut the gates against 
 us, refusing to open them until a heavy hongo had been 
 paid. With bated breath we crept along ; so absorbed were 
 we that I almost forgot to taste a new kind of fruit which 
 hung overhead, and Handford forgot to look where he was 
 treading, and so fell headlong over a stump ! (If we could 
 have exchanged memories for the time, we should both 
 have been better off.) Presently we arrived at the tunnel- 
 like portal, so low that only on hands and knees can ad- 
 mission be gained, while some of the loads had to be coaxed 
 through ; but to our joy the door was open, so we could 
 easily afford to stoop. 1 found out afterwards that all our 
 fuss was so much waste of energy. Confidence in the 
 white man has been fully established here. I do not think 
 they would keep one waiting outside for a single instant. 
 The people received us in the most friendly manner. 
 
^t. 37.] Taveta. 297 
 
 " Next morning, on waking, we found ourselves in a 
 magnificent forest, honeycombed with luxuriant gardens of 
 maize, Indian corn, and broad-leaved banana trees. The 
 people are peculiarly gentle and taking in manner and con- 
 versation. The description of Laish (Judges xviii.) seems to 
 me exactly to suit them : ' They dwelt careless, quiet, and 
 secure ; and there ivas no magistrate in the land to put 
 the7n to shame.' Usually this would be a land of plenty, 
 but this terrible famine has driven a large number of starving 
 neighbours within their bounds, and they too are feeling the 
 pinch. 
 
 " One thing we were all agreed upon — this is not the 
 place for a European Missionary. Travellers who recom- 
 mend it have probably not seen it as we did, in the depth 
 of the rainy season, when the rich, black, vegetable soil 
 constantly exudes poisonous vapours. The forest is so dense 
 that it almost excludes the refreshing breezes, and so over- 
 shadows the open spaces and plantations that large parts of 
 them are constantly wet. Both going and coming, Mr. 
 Wray had attacks of fever here, and I had what might be 
 called a loud warning ; so that, beautiful as the place is in 
 many respects, we were uncommonly glad to be out of it, 
 and to find ourselves, on March the 17th, en 7-oute for 
 Chagga.* Martin, who was with Thomson, told me that 
 Taveta was the only place where he was ill." 
 
 During the three days spent in Taveta, the Bishop lost 
 no opportunity of inspecting the place with a view to future 
 Missionary work. He also did some business in behalf of 
 Mr. Johnston, leader of the recent Kilima-njaro expedition, 
 and, in accordance with a request from the Consul, settled 
 up Mr. Johnston's affairs, and paid off his men. 
 
 On the afternoon of the 17th, messengers arrived from 
 Mandara with an ox as a present from the king. So they 
 started. "Just as we approached our sleeping place, a 
 rhinoceros strolled leisurely away, I suppose to make room 
 for us, and I think he was wise.'" 
 
 * The whble highland district on the southern and eastern spurs 
 of Kilima-njaro is called Chagga. It is occupied by several tribes, 
 of which Mandara's is the most powerful. 
 
298 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 The next morning they breasted the steep ascent to 
 Chagga. " Kilima-njaro, with his two peaks, Kibo and 
 Kimawenzi, were magnificently in view in the early dawn, 
 and remained so about long enough for me to sketch them ; 
 then, as usual, they were again veiled in clouds. Herds of 
 buffalo and large game appeared quite close to us, but we 
 could not then stalk them. As we approached Moschi 
 the men became very excited. We fired the royal salute 
 which this august monarch rigidly exacts from his guests, 
 and were answered by a salvo from his two cannon. It 
 was quite night (8 p.m.) before we crossed the beautiful 
 valley which separates the outer world from Moschi ; how- 
 ever, to my great surprise, we were ushered at once into 
 Mandara's presence. If first impressions are to be trusted 
 we shall get on. I was very favourably struck, not only with 
 his general appearance, but also by his kindliness of manner 
 and intelligence. The interview was a short one ; we 
 craved no more than to be allowed to seek our respective 
 couches. 
 
 '■'■March \gtk. — We had one of those drenching nights 
 with which one sometimes meets in Africa. We could not 
 pitch our tents till late, and then had no time to dig trenches 
 round them. Consequently the water rushed through the 
 tents in torrents. As the men and boys had no shelter of 
 any kind, I invited as many as possible into my tent, which 
 is a very small one. We managed to squeeze in, however, 
 myself, two on the floor, another curled up on the foot of 
 my camp-bed, and Pinto, my invaluable coolie, in the chair. 
 Presently I heard an ominous sound and shouts for help. 
 Handford's tent was laid flat. Thus, between one thing and 
 another, our first night on the slopes of Kilima-njaro was not 
 a pleasant one. However, I rose before daylight and made 
 certain preparations, for I had my suspicions, which proved 
 to be true, that dawn would bring the roseate Mandara (he 
 wears a rosy-red robe). Sure enough there he was, with 
 about twenty warriors, all stark naked, fine athletic young 
 men of one of the Masai clans, and looking fierce enough 
 to frighten one out of his wits. I presented Mandara with 
 a box and uniform, which he received in a most satisfactory 
 

 
 
 
Alt 37.] Iiittrviezv with Mandara. 299 
 
 manner, nor did he ask to see a single thing in the tent, 
 though [ thought his one bright eye roved about in rather a 
 restless manner. ' Wait/ said I, ' he will develop.' 
 
 " After breakfast we returned his visit, and received the 
 present of a goat and cow. We then cautiously unfolded 
 the objects of our visit. The same caution was strictly 
 observed on his part. The sum of what he said is the echo 
 of almost every chiePs voice in Africa, 'I want guns and 
 gunpowder, and if I can't have them, the next best thing 
 is a white teacher to live in the land." 
 
 Those who have read Mr. Johnston's most interesting 
 book on the Kilima-njaro expedition will scarcely be sur- 
 prised to hear that Mandara did not appreciate the manner 
 in which that explorer had taken leave of him. Mr. John- 
 ston's subterfuge extricated him from a serious difficulty, 
 but did not tend to make matters easy for any European 
 who should come after him. Mandara's own provoking 
 conduct, no doubt, made some exceptional measure on Mr. 
 Johnston's part necessary, but he none the less resented the 
 method of his escape. He complained bitterly to Bishop 
 Hannington of the treatment to which he had been sub- 
 jected, and said that after his recent experience of white 
 men, he did not much wish to have another, though 
 he would receive a resident teacher. The Bishop told 
 him plainly that his present visit was merely one of 
 inquiry, and that he would determine later whether a 
 teacher should be sent. He writes : 
 
 " To the end Mandara maintained the same princely 
 bearing and gentlemanly conduct. With the exception of 
 Mirambo, I have never met in the interior a shrewder or 
 more enlightened chief.* I have but little doubt that the 
 history of a mission here, if properly maintained, would 
 be the counterpart of most of our Missions : the reception 
 of the white man with joy and gladness ; c\erything done 
 for him for a week or two, then a cooling down of the 
 first love, neglect, perhaps even persecution ; after which, 
 
 '* It will be remembered that Bishop Hannington had not seen 
 Mti;sa. 
 
300 James Hamiingion. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 if patiently endured, fresh overtures, a mutual understand- 
 ing deepening into confidence and love; then a gradual 
 opening of the door, a breaking down of superstitions, a 
 reception of the Gospel of Peace and of the sweet Saviour 
 of men. 
 
 " May God give Chagga to His Son ! It is a lovely spot. 
 I often exclaimed, ' Here is England ; England ! You see 
 England here ! Yes, and that part of England which I love 
 best, dear Devonshire.' ■'■' 
 
 " T/mrsday, March igth. — Last night was too much 
 
 for . He has determined to return. I am most 
 
 anxious he should remain until Monday. He next to 
 declines unless I command, which I am unwilling to do." 
 
 This determination on the part of one of his staff was 
 most inopportune, as Mr. Wray was incapacitated by fever 
 caught on the road, and the Bishop was left at a critical 
 time to fall back upon his own resources. But, with his 
 usual unselfishness and consideration for others, he did not 
 insist upon retaining his follower for a single day longer 
 than he was willing to remain. Happily, he was himself 
 in good health and able to rise to the occasion. 
 
 " March 20th. — Writing as fast as I can, to send by 
 
 the mail. left about noon in pouring rain and 
 
 mist. Wet weather, very depressing. The chief visited 
 me again. I was drawing at the time, and drew him, 
 which rather wounded his feelings. Lovely view of Kilima- 
 njaro in the evening. 
 
 '■'■March 2isL — A war party arrived to-day, about 500, 
 with immense droves of cattle, which Mandara distributed 
 throughout the various villages. Very little excitement, 
 and no tom-toming whatever, I was surprised at the order 
 kept. Went up to see Johnston's house ; found that it 
 would be a nice place to pitch our tents, and so got leave 
 from the chief. Had Wray carried up, as he has fever, and 
 in the afternoon we were comfortably settled ; nearly 1000 
 feet higher than Moschi, and very private. These valleys 
 are very like Devonshire." 
 
 During his stay at Moschi, though all Hannington's 
 
^t. 37-1 Ascent of Kilinia-njai'o. 301 
 
 instincts prompted him to explore and collect, he set apart 
 but one day for that purpose. He never for a moment for- 
 got the object of his journey, which was the establishment 
 of a chain of Mission Stations westward to the Lake. On 
 Monday, the 23rd, however, he determined to ascend the 
 mountain as far as he could in one day, and to make a 
 small collection of such of its flora and fauna as he could 
 manage in so short a time to secure. 
 
 He started from their camping place at Kitimbiriu,* early 
 in the morning, with his three boys. At first they ascended 
 through lanes of dracaenas and gorgeous scarlet-flowered 
 aloes, and the track led past the clustering huts of the 
 friendly Wa-Chagga. These flocked out to see the Bwana 
 Mkubwa, who came of a race possessed of such a strange 
 love of wandering. A little higher than 5000 feet they 
 came out upon grassy downs which reminded the Bishop of 
 Devonshire.t Above this again began the tangled forest, 
 with its dense and almost impenetrable undergrowth, which 
 clings to the mountain to the height of about 9000 feet. 
 The Bishop had no guide, and soon got into difficulties. 
 He writes in one of his letters : 
 
 " I made one attempt to cross the savage country of 
 Kibosho, not, as the last traveller, armed to the teeth, but 
 with my three boys and umbrella.J We passed through 
 some grand forest scenery, got into the region of heath and 
 tree-ferns, failed to attain any great height (about 880O 
 feet), and finally got lost in a desperate tangle, out of which 
 we had the utmost difficulty in finding our way." 
 
 His pocket-book journal is more graphic in its jottings : 
 
 " Started early with my three small boys, to try and pass 
 
 """ Johnston, p. 142. 
 
 f Johnston, p. 230. "The surrounding scenery was now charm- 
 ingly soft and pretty, so exactly like Devonshire hills and coombes 
 in general aspect that I need not give it a more detailed descrip- 
 _tion.'' 
 
 % Mr. Johnston had unfortunately for himself become entangled 
 in Mandara's wars with his neighbours, and the Wa-Kibosho, in 
 consequence, looked upon him as their enemy, and opposed his 
 ascent ofthe mountain. 
 
302 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 the forest line on Kilima-njaro. Heavy dew and cloud was 
 our lot, during a long ascent of some hours through a 
 wonderful moss-and-fern-clad forest. At length we reached 
 lovely tree-ferns and heath like a Devonshire moor, which 
 made my heart beat quick. The path which we had 
 ascended all the morning now divided, and the forest be- 
 came so dense that we could form no idea as to where we 
 were. So I decided to return. Missed the path, amongst 
 the hundreds of elephant tracks, and got utterly lost. To 
 add to our misery, pouring rain set in, and I fell down an 
 elephant pit. Never had 1 felt more bewildered. The boys 
 were terrified.* At length one of them, a MTaita, roused 
 himself, and, with true native sagacitv, discerned the ele- 
 phant tracks from the path smoothed by human feet — no 
 easy matter — and brought us back to the right way. I only 
 got one peep of Kilima-njaro all day. Not over-tired, but 
 drenched through, and so wet my plants." Elsewhere the 
 Bishop says that he was so thoroughly wetted by the drip- 
 ping undergrowth through which they passed that on their 
 way home he waded through a stream almost up to his neck 
 without getting any sensibly wetter. The following extract 
 from a letter to Mr. Mitten will explain the reference to the 
 plants : 
 
 " My dear Prof., — I have to-day sent to the Brit. 
 
 * Mr. Johnston writes of this forest : — " The dull gloom was 
 very oppressive. The mists of the mountain permeated the foliage, 
 and a continual moisture dripped down on us. We were all 
 wetted through every covering. Our clothes were ponderous with 
 absorbed water — it was fatiguing to stagger under their weight. 
 Noises full of vague terror to my superstitious following broke the 
 stillness of the rank depths wherein we stumbled and crept alon"-. 
 Each porter, as he clutched his load with one hand and with the 
 other pushed aside the interwoven boughs, turned his head un- 
 easily from side to side, dreading the sudden rising from the bush 
 of some terrible unimagined foe." No wonder that the Bishop's 
 boys became terrified as they tremblingly followed their master 
 ever upward toward the demon-haunted throne of the Snirlt nf 
 the Mountain The traveller through these African forest wilds 
 begms to understand the feeling which orioinntprl ti, • 
 
 and^weird German legends, so fufl of the va|"etrro« ^'f ^^t'l" 
 
^t. 37. J Lost in the Forest. 303 
 
 Mus. a box of butterflies and a box of mosses from Kilima- 
 njaro. I have asked the Librarian to have them forwarded 
 to you. My plants all got spoilt with the intense rain, 
 ferns and all, the mosses running a very narrow shave, and 
 many are discoloured. I only got up about 8800 feet, 
 but I am oiF there again if nothing prevent, and hope to 
 get higher. I wanted to get to the snow-line for mosses, 
 and made a desperate struggle, but the ascent is so gradual 
 that it takes a very long time. I started at about 5000 ft., 
 and walked from morning till 4 p.m. with scarce any 
 stoppages, and then never got out of the dense forest tangle. 
 Among the mosses I recognized several old acquaintances ; 
 in fact, I don't think you will get six new things out of the 
 lot, as I swept pretty clean in U-Sagara last visit, and the 
 same things seem to crop up here.* I have been wonderfully 
 well and active, and have got over as much ground in a 
 given time as anybody out here, and I belie\'e that I could 
 start with you to-day and run over the Alps better than 
 ever I did before. This new road is perfectly healthy and 
 very bracing, and travelling has been like in England or 
 Wales. The rainfall here has been terrible, six inches 
 in four days, so that I am expecting an unhealthy time 
 very shortly. How I should like to show you round my 
 garden and to see your's. Mine now is about the size of 
 your's, and stored with the curious. The views from it are 
 simply exquisite, as it runs down to the sea."f 
 
 An opportunity of re-ascending Kilima-njaro was again, 
 somewhat unexpectedly, afforded, and this time the Bishop 
 took Mr. Wray and eight men with him. It is, however, 
 impossible to gain a great height without spending a night 
 on the mountain, and they did not reach higher than 
 9000 ft. 
 
 On the 25th of March, Hannington paid his farewell 
 visit to Mandara. He writes : 
 
 "This afternoon, he sent me a magnificent spear^ 
 
 * Hannington's name is associated with an Asplenium, A. Han- 
 ningtoni, and a Passion Flower, Tryphostemma Ha7mingtonianmn. 
 This was written from the Bishop's House at Frere Town. 
 
304 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 a rhinoceros-horn knob-stick, and a beautifully worked 
 chain, which latter I gave to Wray. I sent one or 
 two extra presents to Mandara in my ecstacy over the 
 spear. 
 
 " Thursday, March 26th. — Up at 4 a.m. Dreadful 
 business with the men. Final visit to the chief; received 
 an ox, a magnificent goat, an immense quantity of fresh 
 milk, and a small elephant's tusk, for which latter he wants 
 some soap and parafin. Mandara and I have hit it off 
 very well, and we both express ourselves satisfied and 
 pleased. 
 
 " The next day we arrived in Fumba's country. We 
 were asked to halt and wait instructions, while the delighted 
 people gathered round us in great curiosity, as this little 
 territory is ofF the traveller's track ; in fact, we only found 
 ourselves there by having mistaken a turn. Presently the 
 chiefs father arrived, bringing with him a sheep. This 
 had at once to be killed, though not before we and they had 
 spit on its head. Then some strips of skin were cut off" 
 and made into rings, one of which was put on my finger, 
 and another on Wray's ; then we had in turn to put rings 
 on two of them. After this, the liver was examined, and 
 finally we were freely splashed with the entrails, and the 
 ceremony which made us brothers was completed. We 
 were now permitted to make a move towards the chief and 
 to encamp. Then another sheep had to be killed, the same 
 ceremony yet more elaborately performed, and the con- 
 versation began. It was not interesting. It harped too 
 much upon one string. The burden was the old African 
 song, ' Give, give, give.* The next day we bade them 
 farewell, and arrived in the truly lovely country of the 
 young chief Miliali. He much wants a teacher; but like 
 the rest, wants gunpowder more. 
 
 " All these districts are on the eastern slope of the 
 mountain, and comprise Chagga proper, the natives all 
 appearing to speak the same tongue. I have seen no place 
 in Africa so beautiful as this ; rapid torrents dash down the 
 mountain sides, forming a succession of lovely cascades. 
 There are grassy slopes, fern-clad rocks, even shady lanes 
 
(H^ >**yjr'&gwj^p^jJiiiii!igi.wirtfart£fliM3^Sfe*ii»«!^^ 
 
 MOUNTAIN TORRENTj MARANGO, KILIMA-NJARO, 
 
JEt. 37.] Killed by the Rain. 305 
 
 in which the blackberry abounds. Nooks entirely tropical, 
 and snow-clad heights. You have, in fact, panoramic views 
 of the scenery of the world. 
 
 " March ^jist. — We left Miliali's at about 3 p.m., being 
 rather delayed by the attempt of the natives to rob one of 
 our men. We soon reached a river, and found an absolutely 
 perpendicular precipice of some 50 feet, up which men can 
 climb by roots and creepers ; but a sheer impossibility for 
 Wray's donkey. We turned ; the guides vowed there was 
 no other place, and defied us to try. We braved their 
 wrath and found another, though the difficulties were 
 scarcely less. Here, somehow or other, in the darkness we 
 got separated, my tent and several loads taking an entirely 
 different road from the one I had the misfortune to follow. 
 Night came on, and with it torrents of rain. I waited, 
 hoping it would clear, and expecting my tent. An hour 
 passed and still I stood. Wray now made an effort and got 
 his tent under weigh. It is a very small one, and with 
 himself and six boxes there was scarcely room to stir. We 
 tried to light a fire with oil and tallow and fat, but in vain ; 
 for once we were entirely beaten, and, worse still, nearly 
 blinded with evil-smelling smoke. Wray succeeded in 
 getting a bed, but I had to face the mud on the wet ground, 
 spreading a blanket over it. I had to lie down in my wet 
 clothes, gaiters and boots, and I made two of my wet boys, 
 both for their own sakes and mine, come and lie one on 
 each side of me, as close as sardines, to prevent the chance 
 of a chill. The rain killed one of the men — he died two 
 days after.* How thankful we were when day broke ! In 
 spite of being bespattered with mud, and wet through, it 
 was delightful to be at least able to see what we were about. 
 I had scarcely aroused myself when a shrill war cry rang 
 through the forest, and a large body of armed men sprang 
 from the bushes and bore down upon us. Thank God, my 
 old nerve remained. I ran forward alone and unarmed to 
 meet them, for the least false step on the part of our men 
 
 * Nothing seems to demoralize the coast porter more than 
 continued, heavy rain. 
 
 20 
 
3o6 James Hanniyigton. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 would have caused a general massacre. I must confess that 
 my heart seemed to jump into my mouth as they charged 
 up the hill, yelling and brandishing their spears. I seized a 
 bough, as a token of peace, and shouted, ' Jambo ! Good 
 morning ' Do you want to kill a white man ? ' A sudden 
 halt, and a dead pause ; at last, ' No, we don't ; but we 
 thought you were Masai.' 
 
 " It appeared that a man living near had heard us 
 talking in the dark, and thinking that the Masai were upon 
 them, sent all round the country, and gathered a large 
 force to annihilate us. When they saw how matters stood, 
 they at once made friends, and tried hard to persuade us to 
 remain and visit Mambo, their chief. But as I had no 
 tent, I declined. In revenge they made April fools of us 
 poor dripping creatures, and sent us the wrong way through 
 the forest, so that we had finally to cut a road with our axes 
 for ourselves, until at last we joined the road at the top of 
 the precipice which the donkey had been unable to climb. 
 We then with swift steps fled from such dangerous quarters, 
 but did not come up with our baggage, so we had again to 
 sleep out without cover. There had been no sun to dry 
 our things, so we spent a miserable night. 
 
 " The next day I rose at 4 a.m. and doctored the sick 
 man mentioned above. We then marched as well as our 
 weary and stitF frames would let us along a heavy, wet road 
 which led us to Taveta. Here we were made once more 
 comfortable, and, by the great mercy of God, I escaped evil 
 consequences from my two nights' exposure. The sick 
 man, without my knowledge, asked to be washed in warm 
 water, and a few minutes later I was called to see him, and 
 found him dying. He was killed by the terrible rain, while 
 I, in God's mercy, am spared without even a cold I 
 
 " Good Friday ; up at daybreak to see about the grave 
 of our poor porter. The men took great pains about it. He 
 was not baptized, but had been under Christian instruction. 
 We said some Collects over his grave. We then had the 
 Service of the Day. I afterwards strolled in the forest, and, 
 venturing to leave the path, had great work to return. On 
 Saturday I had a good catch of butterflies. The place 
 
^t. 37.] Tired Beyond Endurance. 307 
 
 swarms with monkeys, vultures, and great quaint-looking 
 hornbills. 
 
 " On Easter Day we had a Swahili Service for the men. 
 We then celebrated the Holy Communion — our two selves 
 and three of the men. 
 
 " Here I felt a near approach of fever, and only warded 
 it off by an immediate application of remedies. Taveta is 
 most beautiful and fascinating, with its groves and streams, 
 and a kindly and hospitable people making the stranger 
 welcome to their forest home ; but it is most unhealthy, at 
 least at this season. It is, in fact, the only unhealthy 
 spot which we have visited on this route. Wray was also 
 threatened with another attack of fever, and went straight 
 to bed. 
 
 " On Monday we were off at daybreak ; we had some 
 difficulty in getting out, owing to the depth of black mud ; 
 but it was with no small satisfaction that I stood out- 
 side the forest and felt a blow of wind upon me once 
 more. 
 
 " Giraffe, Koodoo and other antelopes all round, but 
 they don't tempt me. 
 
 '■'■April'/. — Fever threatening, but I won't give way." 
 So he walked all day, as the best means of shaking it off. 
 " Presently two guns ahead, and a man runs to meet me. 
 He carries a letter. Huzza ! Oh, the joy !— my mail, and 
 all well. Thank God ! 
 
 " Game everywhere on the plain. Saw many ostriches. 
 Nearly picked up a snake, thinking it was a quail. 
 
 " April 8, 4 a.m.^Scotch mist, and very cold. The 
 men clung to their fires. I had to dash at them and 
 straw the fires out, and left camp hurling firebrands at 
 some of the most obstinate. Tedious march to Mgameni ; 
 bad smell. Wray gave in. Terrible rain, but we were 
 partly under cover. On once more. The hammock men 
 went ahead, leaving me to walk through the river. Very 
 vexed, as it was thoughtless of them, and puts me in 
 great danger of fever. Wring my socks and get on as best 
 I can. Have to get all the men together to pass Kilima 
 Kilomu, fearing Kongo. Escaped. More rain ; trcmen- 
 
3o8 James Hamtington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 dously long grass ; arrive in camp, 6 p.m., tired almost 
 beyond endurance." 
 
 I quote these jottings as they are scribbled on the leaf of 
 his pocket-book ; they seem to me to be more eloquent 
 than many an elaborate description. As we read them, the 
 image of the weary and overdone man, who had given up 
 his own hammock to his sick friend, stumbling through 
 the sodden grass of the muddy plain, yet refusing to own 
 himself beaten, and doggedly plodding forward, ever forward 
 — stands out with the vraisemblance of an instantaneous 
 photograph. 
 
 By the evening of the next day they reached Taita. The 
 Bishop expected to find here a caravan which Mr. Handford 
 had been directed to send from the coast with food. Through 
 a sequence of mischances this convoy had been delayed, and 
 when the party arrived from Taveta with their own stores- 
 exhausted, they found no replenishment. The Bishop writes : 
 " I was in despair. After waiting for a day or two on 
 famine allowance, we were reduced to considerable straits. 
 Barely eating enough to support life, it was difficult to eat 
 that, for the poor starving Wa-Taita came round and watched 
 every mouthful we took, like hungry dogs. I think I 
 should go mad if this went on much longer." 
 
 After doing his best to inculcate patience among his 
 followers, the Bishop relieved his feelings by a good butterfly 
 hunt for the British Museum. But things were waxing 
 desperate, when, late in the afternoon of the iith, a gun 
 announced the laggard caravan. He writes : " How full of 
 joy I felt ! Food for the starving ! " 
 
 "On Sunday, April 12th, after Morning Service, we 
 gathered together the remaining Wa-Taita, who were help- 
 less against their enemies, and famishing, and arranged that 
 some of them should go with me, the rest follow later on 
 to the coast." 
 
 The next day the Bishop started, leaving Mr. Wray at 
 the Mission House, and taking with him thirty of the half- 
 starved people. He writes : " It was very nice to hear a little 
 group cf men praying round their fire as I laid me to sleep." 
 
^t. 37.] The Cross Planted on Kilinia-njaro. 309 
 
 Happily the passage of this miscellaneous troop over 
 the dreadful desert between Maungu and Taro was made on 
 a comparatively cool day, so that they crossed the waterless 
 region without any great suffering. In due time the Bishop 
 brought his whole party safely through to Rabai. Here 
 the Wa-Taita were left in good hands, and he himself, with- 
 out stopping, went straight on to Frere Town. 
 
 Thus ended an eventful journey. The Bishop writes : 
 
 " I have to praise God for one of the most successful 
 journeys, as a journey, that I ever took. For myself, too, I 
 have enjoyed most excellent health almost the whole way, 
 during a tramp of four hundred miles.* May its result be 
 
 the PLANTING OF THE CrOSS OF ChRIST ON KILIMA- 
 NJARO ! " t 
 
 * This is a most modest estimate, and almost " as the crow 
 flies." The actual distance there and back, allowing for inevitable 
 windings, would probably be more than five hundred miles. 
 
 ■j- This has been the result. A Mission Station is now esta- 
 blished at Moschi in Chagga, where Messrs. Wray and Fitch do 
 outpost duly. 
 
CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " THE WORK OF A BISHOP." 
 
 (1885. APRIL-JUNE.) 
 
 " Probably no one will deny that this . . . holiness has existed. 
 Few will maintain that it has been exceedingly rare. Perhaps the 
 truth is that there has scarcely been a town in any Christian 
 country, since the time of Christ, where a century has passed with- 
 out exhibiting a character of such elevation that his mere presence 
 has shamed the bad, and made the good better, and has been felt 
 at times like the presence of God Himself. And if this be so, has 
 Christ failed .' or can Christianity die ? '' — Ecci; Homo. 
 
 Sunburnt and shaggy, but glowing with health, the Bishop 
 once more stood, surrounded by his friends, upon the thresh- 
 old of his own house at Frere Town. He was overjoyed to 
 think that upon this new route westward there were no 
 difficulties which might not be overcome by courage, pru- 
 dence, and experience. No ghastly malarial fevers ; no 
 cruel dysenteric attacks, such as on the lower road reduced 
 the strength of the strongest man, and neutralized his 
 bravest efforts. When he compared his experiences upon 
 this journey with those of his terrible march of death from 
 Zanzibar to the Lake in the previous year, he was filled 
 with a kind of triumph. What if it were possible to push 
 straight through, as Thomson had done, to the North end 
 of the Nyanza ! Might not many lives be saved, and incal- 
 culable suffering averted ? Already the idea began to form 
 itself definitely in his mind. The idea, once started, for- 
 mulated itself rapidly. The more he thought about it, the 
 more feasible did the new route appear. The way was 
 shorter by a very considerable distance ; it was incontestably 
 healthier ; it lay through a country which, in many places, 
 possessed an English climate, and was thoroughly suitable 
 for European residence ; there was at that time no reason 
 
JEt. 27-} The Advantages of the Neiv Route. 311 
 
 to suppose that the Ba-ganda would offer any opposition to 
 an approach from the North-East. The only serious diffi- 
 culty appeared to be the lawless and irrepressible Masai. 
 Well, Mr. Thomson had proved that it was quite possible to 
 pass through the country of these truculent warriors with- 
 out danger much greater than was incidental to all African 
 travelling through unexplored regions. Jumba Kimameta 
 and other traders were in the habit of taking caravans regu- 
 larly backwards and forwards through the heart of the 
 Masai country ; and, in fine, Hannington did not believe 
 that there were any insurmountable obstacles to the estab- 
 lishment of a chain of Mission Stations which should extend 
 from Mombasa, through Taita or Chagga by Lakes 
 Naivasha and Baringo, to U-Ganda. But the weightiest 
 chain of thought is, like other chains, no stronger than its 
 weakest link ; and ignorance of a single detail may upset 
 the conclusions of the most cogent reasoning ; and the 
 Bishop and his friends were unfortunately ignorant of one 
 fact of which we, who are wise after the event, are now 
 aware. I mean the suspicion and fear with which all 
 visitors from the North-East are regarded by the people of 
 U-Ganda. But of this anon. The Bishop shall presently 
 explain his own views in his own words. In the meanwhile, 
 it is sufficient for us to note that his mind had already 
 grasped the idea of a new and better route to the Lake, and 
 that he was even now making inquiries with regard to it of 
 every practical man with whom he was acquainted, and 
 planning the details in his busy brain. 
 
 A few days after his return from Chagga he wrote to 
 Mr. Wigram : " You will be utterly frightened whe'n you 
 hear that I am consulting all whom I can, with a view to 
 crossing the Masai country to the Lake ; but reserve your 
 judgment until you hear from me by the next mail." 
 
 When the Bishop returned from his long tramp, he 
 found a good deal of work awaiting him in Frere Town 
 and the neighbourhood. He did not allow himself long to 
 rest, but started again almost immediately to visit a station 
 to the North, called Mwaiba (marked on the map Kamli- 
 keni), in the Giriama country. He took with him his 
 
312 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 Chaplain, Mr. Fitch, and Jones, the catechist. On their 
 way, they visited a station of the United Free Methodists at 
 Ribe. Mr. and Mrs. Houghton, the missionaries there, are 
 now well known by name, as they were both murdered 
 by the Masai* in the spring of 1886, surviving Bishop 
 Hannington by about six months. They gave him " a kind 
 welcome " — which, no doubt, he has since returned. 
 
 Not far from Mwaiba Hill is the interesting settlement 
 of Fulladoyo, where a number of runaway slaves have col- 
 lected ; where also a chief named Mbaruk, who has been 
 outlawed by the Sultan of Zanzibar, has taken up his abode. 
 The C. M. S. has been compelled to eschew the neighbour- 
 hood of Fulladoyo, lest the Missionaries should be accused 
 of leaguing themselves with the rebels. 
 
 The Bishop writes : " I determined to take a private 
 peep at Fulladoyo, and, if possible, see this Mbaruk. 
 Walked twenty-four miles ; arrived at F., 1 1 p.m. At 
 first dawn the elders came to my tent. We were hardly 
 seated, when about twenty of Mbaruk's soldiers marched up 
 to my tent in a very imperious manner, and demanded why 
 I was there. Imperious not so much to me as to the Ful- 
 ladoyo people, who I thought would have fired upon them 
 there and then. However, I sent a message by them to 
 Mbaruk, saying I wished to see him." At the interview 
 that followed, Mbaruk sought the Bishop's advice, confided 
 to him that he was weary of his present lawless life, and 
 wished to make peace with the Sultan. By the advice of 
 the Bishop, he then and there wrote to the Consul. Nego- 
 ciations have since been going on, which it is hoped may 
 terminate in putting an end to the brigandage of this robber 
 band. Bishop Hannington, ever on the alert to seize an 
 advantage for the Church, saw here an opportunity which 
 he did not lose, but made every arrangement to occupy 
 Fulladoyo as soon as Mbaruk should have evacuated it. 
 The large colony of escaped slaves had, many of them, 
 
 * Mr. and Mrs. Houghton were not sent as missionaries to the 
 Masai, but were located in the Galla Country, on the River Tana. 
 They were killed during an attack by one of the raiding war 
 parties which had penetrated Eastward from Masai Land. 
 
^t. 37. J Ordination of Native Deacons. 3 1 3 
 
 been for a short time under the influence of David Abe 
 Sidi,* a native Catechist, now dead, and w^ould have wel- 
 comed a teacher. The Bishop says : " They still observe 
 the Sabbath, and, for the most part, have only one wife." 
 
 " May ind. — Again walked thirty miles with perfect 
 ease ; not even tired at the end of it. Since March, I have 
 walked about six hundred miles. To Hi>n be the glory ! 
 Amen!" 
 
 On May the 13th the examination of catechists re- 
 ferred to in a former letter was held with a view to their 
 being licensed as lay-preachers ; and, on the last day of the 
 month, which was Trinity Sunday, there was an Ordina- 
 tion at Frere Town, when the first two natives of East 
 Africa, in connection with the C. M. S., were admitted to 
 the Diaconate. These were William Jones and Ishmael 
 Michael Semler, both of them rescued slaves, and men who 
 had given for many years abundant proof of sincerity and 
 zeal, and seemed to possess considerable spiritual gifts. The 
 Bishop says : " Their examination, which also included D. 
 Rosengrave, another native Catechist (a freed slave of 
 1875), was conducted by my Chaplain, and not only satis- 
 fied us, but surprised and rejoiced our hearts. Commencing 
 on Thursday, we had every morning and evening special 
 seasons set apart for prayer, and [ then gave them brief 
 charges on Christian life and the ministerial office. We all 
 felt these seasons to be times of great spiritual refreshment." 
 
 The Rev. W. E. Taylor, B.A., was also admitted to 
 Priests' Orders. 
 
 On Sunday, they assembled at Mr. Handford's for 
 prayer, and then proceeded to the church. As the proces- 
 sion entered the building, the great congregation stood up 
 and burst forth into the strains of that triumphant battle- 
 hymn, " Onward, Christian soldiers ! " — and the church 
 throbbed to the pulsations of Sullivan's martial tune, raised 
 by hundreds of full-voiced natives. Christians and Catechu 
 mens, whose dark up-turned faces glowed with suppressed 
 
 * David Abe Sidi founded the colony of Fulladoyo. When 
 war was made against his little flock of escaped slaves, he threw in 
 his lot with them, and perished in 1883. 
 
314 James Hamiington. [A. D. 1885. 
 
 excitement. Mr. Handford preached in Kiswahili, from 
 Matt. xiii. 52, and the well-known Ordination Service pro- 
 ceeded ; after which fifty-seven communicants knelt before 
 the Table of the Lord. There were, it is true, some 
 things in the conduct of public worship at Frere Town 
 which did not commend themselves to the Bishop. [His 
 diary of the Sunday previous to the Ordination has the fol- 
 lowing : " I have constantly to regret the dissenterish kind 
 of Services they have here. A style of Service that has been 
 handed down, I should think, from Rebmann. Why don't 
 I have it altered ? Wait a bit ! "] But when he discerned 
 the presence of the Divine Spirit, he could pardon many a 
 minor detail ; and on that day the power of the Holy Ghost 
 seemed to descend upon the people. All felt that One was 
 present to bless. In the afternoon the Bishop preached from 
 a favourite text of his, from which he was never tired of 
 drawing inexhaustible stores of Christ-lore : " This is My 
 beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased." " I can hardly 
 tell you," he writes, " how greatly privileged I feel in thus 
 having been permitted to ordain the first native ministers of 
 our infant East African Church. The foundations of a 
 native ministry have now been laid. I call most earnestly 
 upon all the children of God to pray for these men, that 
 they may be kept humble and zealous workers in God's 
 vineyard, and that they may be made winners of souls." 
 
 On the first of June Bishop Hannington sailed in the 
 Henry Wright to Zanzibar, to make preparations for a 
 second journey to Chagga, where he proposed to establish 
 Mr. Wray and Mr. Fitch, and to found a Station at Moschi. 
 He had many interviews with Sir John Kirk, Consul Smith, 
 and others, who all, together with the Sultan, were entirely 
 in favour of his proposed expedition to the Lake through 
 Masai Land. He left no stone unturned to gather up every 
 possible scrap of information on the subject, and read with 
 care all that Mr. Thomson has said in his remarkable book. 
 The result was that he was more than ever confirmed in his 
 opinion that this route ought to prove immensely superior 
 in almost every respect to the old route through Uyui. 
 
 Nine days were spent in this manner, and in gathering 
 
^t. s^.} First Confirmation. 315 
 
 together materials for the march to Chagga, and for the 
 needs of the new Station to be opened at Mandara's capital. 
 
 His journal has the following entry on Sunday, the 7th : 
 " Went with Fitch and Price to Early Communion in 
 the Cathedral. I suppose we ought to have been shocked, 
 but were not." 
 
 It will be perceived from the above and some previous 
 entries, that Hannington's views upon Church order and out- 
 ward forms of worship had undergone some slight modifica- 
 tion since the early days of his ministry. A wider acquaint- 
 ance with men and things had softened his prejudices and 
 somewhat unbent his anti-ritualistic bow. He had never 
 at any time been inclined to quarrel over the " non-neces- 
 saria," and was now less disposed than ever to adopt the 
 repellant attitude of one who is always looking for some- 
 thing with which to find fault. He had seen and noted 
 the dangers that lurk behind both excessive attention to 
 ritual and its neglect; but he had learned to look within the 
 shell of things, and had discovered that spirituality and 
 fidelity m-ay equally characterize men who commit either 
 of these mistakes. As we have said before, when he thought 
 that he discerned the Blessing of the Divine Spirit resting 
 upon men and their deeds, he was not nervously apprehen- 
 sive about sanctioning by his co-operation their modes and 
 their methods. Even in his early days at Hurst, when a 
 reaction from excessive formality had swung him to the 
 opposite extreme, we have seen that he was as willing to 
 preach in " one of the highest " churches in Brighton as 
 in the lowest. And now, after some experience of both 
 mistakes, he was rather inclined to avoid them himself than 
 to be hypercritical of those who had not yet attained to the 
 golden mean. 
 
 He thus journals the remainder of this Sunday : 
 " Breakfast with the Bp. : 10 a.m., Swahili Service ; their 
 singing does not nearly come up to ours.* 3.30, tea at the 
 Univ. Mission. 4.30, preached in the Cathedral from the 
 
 * Comp. what is said on p. 246 about the singing in this part 
 of Africa. 
 
3i6 Javies Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 Transfiguration. I preached from the steps, and was m 
 great liberty." 
 
 Shortly after this he returned to Frere Town, and 
 on June 13th we find him holding his first African Con- 
 firmation. The Service was at 6.30 a.m. Thirty-three 
 candidates assembled in the early grey of the morning, 
 almost all grown men and women. He writes : "Many 
 of them appear to be simple-minded, quiet Christians, 
 desirous of anything that will bring them nearer to Christ." 
 
 At the celebration of the Holy Communion which 
 followed, seventy, including the recently-confirmed, com- 
 municated. 
 
 The same day at noon a special meeting was summoned, 
 and the Bishop and his party were dismissed with prayer for 
 their second journey into the vast interior. 
 
 At Rabai a halt was called, and Sunday, the 14th, was 
 spent at the Mission. Bishop Hannington writes : 
 
 " To-day I held my second Ordination in East Africa ; 
 the Rev. J. C. Price, the missionary at Mpwapwa, was 
 ordained priest. The Rev. W. E. Taylor preached the 
 sermon, and Jones also assisted me. We took the whole in 
 Kiswahili. It was a very primitive Service. We were 
 unavoidably a surplice short, so we had to dress Taylor up 
 in a sheet and a few other oddments ! Nevertheless the 
 Service was impressive, and I was glad that the Rabai con- 
 gregation should have an opportunity of witnessing the 
 solemn setting apart of one for the office of presbyter." 
 
 The next day, after early Service, the party for the interior 
 made a great effort to start, but failing to secure sufficient 
 porters, they were obliged to remain and repack many of 
 their loads. By leaving behind all their comforts, and many 
 even of their barest necessaries, they were able to leave 
 Rabai on Tuesday, the i6th. Hannington writes to his 
 brother : " I never travelled so short before, nor — to be 
 self-righteous — do I think that many would consent to do 
 the like." 
 
 The Christians assembled for prayer. God's blessing 
 was invoked and they were off. The route to Taita has 
 
^t. 37.] Second Visit to Taita. 3 1 7 
 
 already been described^ and there was little to distinguish 
 this march from that undertaken upon the former occasion. 
 The only special incident that calls for mention is that the 
 caravan narrowly escaped an encounter with a war party of 
 Masai. These redoubtable warriors and inveterate raiders 
 are the terror of the whole country over an area of many ■ 
 hundreds of miles. The young braves penetrate in every 
 direction, seeking pastures new from which to uplift cattle 
 and drive them to their distant kraals. The Duruma 
 country is literally devastated by the Masai spear. The 
 wretched inhabitants are driven to hide themselves in thorny 
 tangles of impenetrable jungle in order to retain anything 
 of their belongings. Mr. Thomson describes one spot not 
 much more than a day's march from Rabai, where the ground 
 for a long distance was " literally strewed with skulls/' 
 the scene of a battle with a Masai band. 
 
 It is of a place not far from here that Bishop Hannington 
 writes : " The good Hand of God was markedly with us. 
 Had it not been for what we naturally called the disappoint- 
 ments of the road, we should have fallen in with these 
 dread warriors on the war trail. They passed our camp 
 yesterday, and killed a man close at hand. I expected that 
 the men would have been rather panic-stricken by the 
 report, but no, they took the matter very sensibly." 
 
 General Matthews, the Sultan's commander-in-chief, 
 was now at Chagga, the Sultan having acceded to Mandara's 
 request that he should extend to him his protection, and fly 
 his flag over Moschi. He and his detachment had had 
 trouble in crossing the desert-furnace between Taro and 
 Maungu, and reached the wells of the latter place " in a 
 state of perfect exhaustion." The Bishop, however, got 
 his men over the " terrible plain " on this occasion without 
 any special diiEculty, beyond, of course, the great fatigue of 
 all, and reached Taita on the 22nd, or six days after the 
 start. The little company of Wa-Taita on Ndara was still 
 further reduced in number, and all the paths up the mountain 
 were overgrown with thorns and vegetable rankness. The 
 caravan had literally to cut its way through the tangle of 
 spiked grasses and jungle which barred all upward progress. 
 
3i8 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885 
 
 When here — finding that Jumba Kimameta * had left 
 Taveta — Bishop Hannington came to the conclusion that 
 he would not himself proceed to Chagga, but that he would 
 send Mr. Wray and Mr. Fitch forward to occupy that 
 station, and return at once to the coast to prepare for his 
 great journey northward to the Lake. 
 
 He had already carefully selected sites both at Moschi and 
 other places where Stations might possibly be founded ; he 
 had made every arrangement for the reception of his repre- 
 sentatives by Mandara, and had negociated for t-he same 
 end with other princelets of the mountain. Having laid 
 his train to the best of his ability and sought the blessing 
 of God upon it, he thought that he would be better 
 employed in hastening forward the new expedition than in 
 renewing his acquaintance with Kilima-njaro. He, there- 
 fore, determined to deny himself that pleasure, and to return 
 without delay to Frere Town. 
 
 His return march was a very remarkable exploit, and 
 notably worthy of being chronicled. Two years previously 
 Mr. Thomson had made a forced march over the same 
 ground. He says : " Leaving Ndara we performed a 
 pedestrian feat which probably has never been equalled in 
 the annals of African travelling." Making a great effort, 
 he covered the distance between Taveta and Rabai at the 
 rate of 34 miles a day. This great achievement has been 
 since rivalled by Bishop Hannington, who walked from 
 Ndara to Rabai at the extraordinary rate of 40 miles a day. 
 The distance, estimated to be 120 miles, was accomplished 
 by him in exactly three days and half an hour ! 
 
 JBut we must let him describe his own adventures. 
 
 " On June 24th, the first anniversary of my Consecra- 
 tion, I started homeward from Taita with a handful of men 
 and just the bare necessaries of life, leaving behind tent 
 bed, bath, in fact, every single thing I could do with-' 
 
 * An Arab trader who had greatly assisted Mr. Thomson and 
 whom Hannington desired to consult with regard to his journey 
 over the same route. -^ ' 
 
/Et. 37.] Forced March to the Coast. 319 
 
 out.* Is this setting out typical of what the second year of 
 my episcopal pilgrimage is to be ? I could rejoice if it is, if 
 only the Lord continues to manifest His guiding and pro- 
 tecting care as He has done all through this journey ! 
 
 " We met together and knelt in prayer, and then I had 
 literally to run out of the place at 7 a.m., for I was besieged 
 with requests and questions from the porters whom I had left 
 to go forward. My feet had got painfully blistered on the 
 way up, and this was not a pleasant prospect in view of the 
 rapid return I hoped to make. However, we had the 
 donkey as a last resource, and I found that after walking a 
 short distance the pain much decreased. My donkey, I may 
 as well say, here as elsewhere proved of but little personal 
 use to me., for some of the men got blisters or thorns, so they 
 had to ride to get them along at all. The first day, in spite 
 of its being cloudless and terribly hot, I covered thirty- 
 five miles, and laid me down to rest on the lap of mother 
 earth. But oh, she is hard and ungiving to weary bones ! 
 
 " The next day walked another thirty-five miles. I 
 had the unusual good fortune to kill five guineafowl at one 
 shot, and that, too, in the midst of our worst desert track, 
 so we had a good meal. Toward the end of this day's 
 march I felt desperately weary, but we continued till 8 p.m., 
 stumbling along and hurting our feet sadly over the rough 
 ground. But it was well : it had the effect of making the 
 ground feel softer than the night before. Then I found it 
 hard sleeping without a bed ; this evening I was far too tired 
 to think about it at all, and, in spite of a heavy shower of 
 rain, soon fell asleep. 
 
 '■'■June 26th. — Off" at daylight. On and still onwards ; 
 arrived at Samburu without difficulty, but the men now 
 began to show signs of great weariness. Seventy miles in 
 the last two days had told upon them, although they were 
 carrying next to nothing, and the guinea-fowls had been a 
 
 * He did not wish to diminish the stores of the caravan bound 
 for Chagga more than was absolutely necessary, and so took with 
 him the barest provisions for his journey. The object of this hot 
 haste homeward was to catch the Henry Wright before she started 
 for Zanzibar, and so save some weeks of time 
 
320 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 great addition to their food. When we entered a camp at 
 10.30 a.m., though some were more than wiHing to march 
 a httle farther, I felt it to be really unkind to ask them to 
 do so, and therefore said that I would leave them to rest 
 awhile, and march on alone to the coast. Two, however, 
 volunteered to accompany me, and also a third, with a big 
 heart but poor feet, whom I did not accept. It was well 
 that I declined him, as one of the others had to ride the 
 donkey for a time. I put the last two biscuits, some dates, 
 and a little cheese into a box, and giving the men some 
 heads of Indian corn, away we went. But we were not to 
 starve, for another guinea-fowl fell to my gun, and when 
 we halted at 7 p.m., we cooked it in the hot ashes. One of 
 the men cut off the breast and handed it to me in his 
 fingers, all burnt and covered with ashes as it was, and I 
 ate it in my fingers — and was it not delicious ! Then I 
 knelt down and thanked God for His mercies, and, creeping 
 into a little grass hut, lay down between the two men and 
 rested for a couple of hours. I couldn't sleep because I had 
 made my coffee myself, and had made it too strong. Then 
 we shook ourselves together and started again, on through 
 the night. It was a weird march. The roar of a lion 
 made the ground shake with its tremendous thunder ; and 
 once or twice we checked at the cry of a night bird, as we 
 neared the war-paths of Masai, whom, with our small party 
 of three, we had not the slightest inclination to encounter. 
 Presently the dew began to fall, and I was soon wet through 
 so, as we reached the sixth camping place at about 
 4.30 a.m., we halted and lighted a large fire, at which the 
 men dried my clothes, while I wrapped myself in my 
 mackintosh. 
 
 " We were now all very tired : the donkey, too, which 
 I had been reserving for an emergency, showed signs of 
 fatigue. However, apologizing tenderly to him, I told him 
 that I really must have a short ride. Then followed a 
 heavy shower of rain, which made the ground slippery, and 
 the donkey and I rolled over together more than once. 
 But we were now close to Rabai, and in a few minutes 
 were welcomed by our astonished friends, who thought that 
 
JEt. 37.] Tatight Never to be Disappointed. 321 
 
 I was safe at Chagga — 120 miles in three days and half an 
 hour ! I did not stay there, as I heard important news 
 about Mbaruk, which required instant attention ; so, after 
 a bath, a meal, and a nap, I walked another fi\'c miles to 
 the boat, and a row of three hours brought me safe and 
 sound to Frere Town. 
 
 " Everybody was amazed to see me. However, the 
 object of my journey appears after all to have been 
 defeated, as the Henry Wright left for 'Zi2.Ti'L\\i'i.\ two days 
 ago." 
 
 This was enough, surely, to have tried the patience of 
 the most stoic of mortals. The immense effort of the last 
 three days had been wholly frustrated by an unexpectedly 
 early start of the little Mission steamer. He seemed 
 doomed to lose some weeks of time, and to remain gnawing 
 his nails at Frere Town when his caravan should already be 
 a-preparing at Zanzibar. But, he writes : 
 
 " I refused to be disappointed, feeling sure that all would 
 come right, and, indeed, I am being taught ne\'er to be 
 disappointed, but to Praise ; and now H.M.S. corvette 
 Kingfisher most unexpectedly steamed into the harbour, 
 and the captain offered me a passage. It is wonderful how 
 God has appeared for me over and over again, and wonder- 
 ful, too, what health and strength I have had. If all goes 
 well, I ought to be off in three weeks' time for Masai 
 Land." 
 
 The Kingfisher was upon an expedition after some 
 slave dhows reported to be in the neighbourhood, and as 
 she touched at Zanzibar, the captain most courteously 
 placed a cabin at the Bishop's disposal. 
 
 The last entry in the June monthly diary is : " Hope we 
 shall catch some prizes." 
 
 " Writing, writing, writing ; " so begins the diary of 
 the voyage. Whatever spare time he had was filled up 
 with his now voluminous correspondence. As one of our 
 English Bishops is said to have written most of his letters 
 upon his knee in railway carriages, so Bishop Hannington 
 
 21 
 
32: 
 
 James Hannington. 
 
 [A.D. 1885. 
 
 wrote many of his in his travellina; tent, or bivouacking by 
 the light of a camp fire, or on board the steamers which 
 bore him back and forth between Mombasa and Zanzibar. 
 
 In the midst of his official correspondence he found 
 time for not infrequent letters to the wee ones at home. 
 The following is an example, with fac -similes of the pen- 
 and-ink sketches with which such letters were generally 
 embellished : 
 
 "My dearest Children, — . 
 to walk for a long distance through 
 
 . I was obliged 
 a Mangrove swamp. 
 Mangrove trees are very 
 curious ; they let down from 
 their stems and branches 
 many roots, which bind 
 them to the soft, black mud 
 and keep them from being 
 washed away by the tide ; 
 for they always grow in the 
 salt water creeks within 
 reach of the tide. On their 
 roots hang a great many 
 oysters. In these parts we almost always have our doors and 
 windows wide open, so a great many difterent insects come 
 flying into the rooms. There are some black hornets that 
 come and make nests of earth on the beams. They do 
 not sting one, or do any harm beyond making a little dust, 
 which is easily cleared away. They kill a great manv 
 caterpillars and other insects 
 with which to feed their 
 young, holding them in 
 this fashion. I rather fancy 
 that they sting the cater- 
 pillars first of all, and make 
 them insensible. I hope 
 that you have all been very 
 good and obedient to your 
 mother, and that God has blessed you with much happiness 
 I think a great deal of you, and am always happy to know 
 
^t. 37.] Reasons for Adoption of the Neiu Route. 323 
 
 that my dear little pets pray for their father who is so 
 many miles away. God is love, and watches over us, 
 although we are absent from one another. Love and kisses 
 to your dearest Mother. 
 
 "I remain, sweet children, your very affectionate 
 
 "Father." 
 
 We may here let the Bishop give some of the reasons 
 which induced him to make this perilous journey through 
 a land known to be occupied by the most lawless of savages, 
 and which had only once been entered by a European, and 
 by him traversed for only part of the way. 
 
 We have seen that he was, very soon after his arrival at 
 Frere Town, struck with the immense superiority of the 
 new route into the interior, from a health point of view, 
 over the old route. This opinion was confirmed by his 
 journey to Mount Kilima-njaro. He was overjoyed to find 
 that none of the terrors which haunted the footsteps of the 
 traveller upon the lower road — rheumatit and malarial fevers 
 and dysentery — which rendered courage, strength, and 
 determination almost nugatory, were to be feared upon 
 these high uplands. Mr. Thomson had shown that the 
 same healthy highland country continued northward and 
 westward as far as he had penetrated. His active mind at 
 once grasped the idea that if one had the courage to open 
 up this new route to U-Ganda, and secure the friendly 
 co-operation of the natives, others might easily follow ; and, 
 the way once made, a large saving would in future be 
 effected both in time and expense, and, above all, in valuable 
 lives. Anybody can see, by a glance at the map, the advan- 
 tage of the northerly route to U-Ganda in point of directness ; 
 and those who have read the account given in this book of 
 the Bishop's first journey to the south end of the Lake, with 
 its weary record of sickness and suffering and death, and 
 will compare it with Mr. Thomson's account of his healthy 
 journey to Kavirondo,* cannot but feel with the Bishop 
 
 * Mr. Thomson's sickness upon his return journey was occa- 
 sioned apparently by over-fatigue at Lake Baringo, following 
 upon a severe accident, rather than by any fault of the climate. 
 
324 James Hanmngton [A.D. 1885. 
 
 that it was worth while to risk something to secure so great 
 an advantage. Added to this was the prospect, never absent 
 from Hannington's heart, that a new tract of country, 
 occupied by a singularly noble, if exceptionally ferocious, 
 race of men, might be brought under the shadow of the 
 Cross. 
 
 As early as April 21st he wrote to Mr. Wigram with 
 regard to this journey to Chagga : " The country through 
 which we have passed is extraordinarily healthy, as far as 
 we can judge from our own experience, that of other tra- 
 vellers, and the nature of the soil. There are long, dry, 
 waterless tracts which are difficult — but not so much so as 
 the Wa-Nyamuezi deserts which have to be encountered on 
 this side of Uyui— and the worst of these tracts is met with 
 on tJiis side of Taita." 
 
 He then continues : " With regard to my journey to 
 the Lake across the dreaded land of the Masai. When up 
 the country, I made all the inquiry that I could with regard 
 to it, and, from what I hear, the difficulties are not so great 
 as we have been led to imagine. .The first question which 
 would suggest itself to an ordinary mind is. Why take such 
 a journey when the other road is well known ? The answer 
 would be : Firsts the old route is beset by special difficulties 
 of its own. The first month's journey lies along a most 
 unhealthy track ; then succeeds the inhospitable region of 
 U-Gogo ; then the long, dangerous deserts of U-Nyamuezi ; 
 then, after leaving Uyui, there is always great doubt as to 
 which road to the Lake will be open ; and lastly, there are 
 the two hundred miles of water, with the difficulty about 
 obtaining canoes. Stokes' caravan was, as you know, 
 attacked by robbers, and several men were killed ; and how 
 many caravans have reached U-Ganda in anything like 
 entirety .'' 
 
 "The new road, on the other hand, is, as we have every 
 reason to believe, perfectly healthy. With its desert tracts 
 we are already well acquainted, as they lie early in the 
 journey. It should be, moreover, at least six weeks shorter 
 in point of time. Its almost only danger is the Masai ; and 
 I have learnt that Swahili caravans of all sizes are constantly 
 
/Et. 37.] Pros and Cons. 325 
 
 passing and repassing without incuii'ing much greater risks 
 than elsewhere. 
 
 " Now compare the losses, trials, expenses, and dangers 
 of Wilson's party with those of Thomson's across the 
 Masai. If Thomson's route, as he affirms, will not be open 
 tor fifty years, Wilson's * ought not to have been opened 
 for a hundred I 
 
 " Secondly. If this route be opened up, our work 
 will be much more centralized. We could then work all 
 our caravans from Frere Town and Rabai. We could 
 thus give regular employment to many of our Christian 
 men, and we could keep a well-trained start' of responsible 
 head-nun. 
 
 "The present Station at the south end of tiie Lake 
 might then be transferred to Kavirondo. Uyui might be 
 t.iken charge of by a neighbouring Mission, and Mpwapwa 
 and Mamboia treated as branch Missions. 
 
 " If this route is to be opened, I can see no one but 
 myself at present to do it. To the Lake I must go, and I 
 somewhat dread the old route of illness and misery. 
 
 "There is the question of hongo to be considered, and 
 there will undoubtedly be a large hongo to pay. But I believe 
 that the shortness of the journey will far more than com- 
 pensate for this." 
 
 Later. " I have just had an interview with Sir John 
 Kirk ; he is an.xious that we should advance, and leans 
 strongly to the new road." 
 
 The following was written to the Committee of the 
 C. M. S. on May 7th : 
 
 '■'■ Gentlemen, — I hear that my first letter concerning the 
 journey across the Masai county was not sent viA the Cape, 
 and therefore should reach you at the same time as this. In 
 the interval matters have been developing. I have had more 
 
 * The Rev. C. T. Wilson, ]!.A., whose party reached 
 U-Ganda in 1877 by the route already described. On this journey 
 Dr. Smith died, and Mr. Mackay was for some time incapacitated 
 by sickness. 
 
326 James Hannington. [A.D. iS&s. 
 
 time for counsel and consideration, and now I want you to 
 listen to me. 
 
 "I appeal most earnestly to you, to my Commissaries, 
 and to all friends of Africa, to stand by me in an effort 
 which I feel ought to be made to open up the country for 
 the Gospel of Christ Jesus. I want ;riooo to relieve you 
 from any extra burden which might arise from the journey ; 
 and I am sure that, even in these troublous times, it will be 
 forthcoming, and yet more, if necessary. 
 
 " The serious part of the matter is this : I am venturing 
 to take the responsibility of the action on myself, so that 
 before this letter reaches you I shall, unless our loving 
 Father directs differently, be on the road. I hope I may be 
 able to satisfy you that this course is not so blameworthy as 
 it appears at first sight. I have taken counsel with all pos- 
 sible on the subject, and the feeling of all, without exception, 
 is Go, for the time seems come to make the attempt. 
 
 " We have weighed the matter here over and over 
 again. I have had a long interview with Sir John Kirk and 
 Mr. Wakefield, whose lengthened experience of Africa 
 makes them most valuable counsellors. ; also with Jumba 
 Kimameta, who so staunchly supported and helped Thom- 
 son ; with the Vice-Consul ; and last night the V.-C. and 
 I were closeted with Martin (who accompanied Mr. 
 Thomson) for three hours ; and Martin says. Go. Again, 
 William Jones strongly feels that the time has come ; and 
 further, the Sultan's expedition under General Matthews to 
 Kilima-njaro seems, as far as I can tell, to be further opening 
 up the way. 
 
 " And now let me explain why I have not waited for 
 your opinion. The reason is this. June is the best month 
 for travel. Ramadan begins on the 14th, and, as soon as it 
 is finished, the Swahili caravan, under Jumba Kimameta, 
 will start. To this caravan I want to attach myself. It 
 is, in fact, then or never^ as regards this year. 
 
 " I hope, almost immediately after the Ordination 
 which should take place on Trinity Sunday, May 31st, to 
 start, and take with me Mr. Taylor and Mr. Fitch, and at 
 Taita to pick up Mr. Wray, whom I hope to settle at 
 
yEt. 37.] Letter to the Committee on the Nciu Road. 327 
 
 Chagga. I want then to join Jumba Kimameta's* large 
 caravan, and in his company, with Mr. Taylor, to proceed 
 to Naivasha, and probably thence to Sendege, in Lower 
 Kavirondo. i\s to future policy, I look forward with long- 
 ing eyes to a Station in the heart of the Masai country, at 
 Ngongo a Bagas, at the foot of Mount Lamuyu, and to 
 another in Kavirondo ; but for this we are not yet 
 ripe. 
 
 " I am afraid you will repent you of your Bishop, or at 
 least wish that you had clipped one of his wings and shod 
 his feet with leaden soles ; but I say, while I have health 
 and strength, let me spend it in this work. May I there- 
 fore crave even more energy and more prayer on our 
 behalf at Home ? " 
 
 Again, in a letter to Mr. Wigram, on May 12th : 
 
 "My hope is to catch Jumba, and a delay even for a 
 telegram might set all this wrong. With regard to expense, 
 I hope that this journey may really cost less than hy the 
 other way. If I open the road, we shall save thousands or 
 pounds in the end. This time it is possible I may incur 
 large extras. I calculate that if I go round by the old road, I 
 cannot do with less than a hundred or more men with their 
 cloth, to take me up and down, and enable me to remain a 
 season in U-Ganda ; and whoever is located in U-Ganda 
 would require as many. Thomson's expenditure was, T 
 know, enormous ; but then his journey took eighteen 
 months, and his expedition was much more elaborately fitted 
 
 * After consideration, Bishop Hannington resolved to trave 
 independently of Jumba. That noted trader has acquired his 
 influence over the Masai by laying claim to the possession of 
 magical powers, and practises rites in which no Christian teacher 
 could participate, yet which his very presence in the caravan must 
 appear to sanction. Rather than avail himself of such dubious 
 assistance, and perhaps, thereby, hamper all his after-work, the 
 Bishop determined to do without Jumba's co-operation. As the 
 event showed, he was quite able to pass through the Masai un- 
 aided, and on beyond Kavirondo Jumba's name would have 
 availed nothing. 
 
328 Janus Hannington [A.D. 1SS5. 
 
 out than mine will be. If the friends of Africa will give 
 me ;^iooo, I believe that the C. M. S. will be saved money 
 by the expedition." 
 
 It will be seen from the above extracts that the only 
 serious danger of which the Bishop had anv apprehension 
 was from the Masai. It never entered into his head to sup- 
 pose that his entrv into U-Ganda from the North-East 
 would be opposed. He was not aware of the alarm which 
 existed in the minds of the tribes of Central Africa with 
 regard to a European invasion. He did not know that the 
 chiefs were busilv instilling into their young King Mwanga 
 the dutv of repelling anv attempt of white men to enter his 
 kingdom bv the " backdoor " of Kavirondo. Nor could he 
 suppose that the report of German annexations had reached 
 the far interior, and excited the people to the verge of panic. 
 For such difficulties as he foresaw he made proper prepara- 
 tions, and, as he had anticipated, he overcame them success- 
 fully, and arrived without disaster at what he had always 
 considered to be the end of the perilous part of his journey 
 — the frontier of U-Ganda. 
 
 No one, then, can justly accuse him of rashness. His 
 plans were laid with prudence and forethought. They were 
 carried out with boldness and decision. They were com- 
 pletely successful. The blow which struck him down was 
 wholly unexpected. It was as though a bolt had fallen from 
 a clear skv. For the final disaster it would, therefore, in 
 presence of the heroic dead, not only be ungracious, but 
 unjust, to hold the Bishop responsible. 
 
CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 THE LAST JOURNEY. 
 (1885. JULY-OCTOBER.) 
 
 " Can you face this Olympic contest ? Are your thews and 
 sinews strong enough ? Can you face the fact that those who are 
 defeated are also disgraced and whipped ? " Epictetus. 
 
 " He begrudgeth not to get a probability of victory by the cer- 
 tainty of his own death ; and flieth from nothing so much as from 
 the mention of flying. And though some say, He is a madman 
 
 our soldier knows that he shall possess the reward of 
 
 his valour with God in heaven, and also, making the world his 
 executor, leave to it the rich inheritance of his memorj\" 
 
 FUIXER ('• 77m Good So/Ji^r-). 
 
 The next three weeks were spent partly in Zanzibar and 
 j>artly in Frere Town, in hastening forward preparations for 
 the great journe}'. We have already attempted to give 
 some idea of the amount of trouble entailed in the organiza- 
 tion of a cara\-an. Added to the endless work and worry 
 which falls to the lot of e\ ery traveller into the interior, was 
 the dread which the porters entertained of entering the 
 countri' of the Masai. Both Thomson and Hannington 
 have proved that the turbulent and troublesome El-Moran 
 can be dealt with by a white man without much greater risk 
 than other savages ; but the terror of them lies like a night- 
 mare upon the minds of their own countrymen. These 
 truculent voung bloodshedders and cattle-lifters have as 
 fiendish a reputation throughout North-East Africa as evai 
 such blustrous swaggerers could desire. To go to Masai 
 Land is, in the opinion of the Zanzibari, like going into a 
 sort of Inferno—" All hope abandon, ye who enter here." 
 
 Bishop Hannington, however, by dint of patience and 
 ract, succeeded in getting together about two hundred por- 
 ters, some for Chagga, some to accomoany him to Kavirondo, 
 
330 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 and of whom he says, "They were a very nice lot of men/ 
 Many of them, poor fellows, shared his fate, and met their 
 death far away from their homes — but it was not at the 
 hands of the dreaded Masai. 
 
 Mr. Copplestone, who joined his Bishop at Zanzibar, 
 and accompanied him back to Frere Town, writes to me : 
 
 " On my arrival at Zanzibar there were letters awaiting 
 me from the Bishop asking me if I would join him in his 
 journey to U-Ganda, but failing health prevented my 
 accepting his proposal We thought then that he was at 
 Chagga, but, quite unexpectedly, while I was thinking over 
 the contents of his letter, he turned up. We then discussed 
 the whole question, and he appointed me to Chagga to 
 assist in the formation of the new Station. We had many 
 conversations with regard to his proposed journey, and 
 eventually he decided to travel alone., so that if he got into 
 any difficulty or trouble he would not involve any of his 
 friends in the result — so utterly unselfish was ke. We then 
 left together for Frere Town, having settled that I should 
 return to Zanzibar in about ten days and bring up the 
 porters. 
 
 " When, however, the dav came for me to go for the 
 porters and make final arrangements about the caravan, he 
 decided to accompany me. 
 
 " On our way back to Frere Town I had another 
 manifestation of his love and sympathy, which also revealed 
 to me chat he felt some anxiety with regard to his journey. 
 We were on board the Henry H'rlg/if, in the Pemba 
 channel ; the night was dark and stormy. The Bishop was 
 lying on a seat in tlie saloon, and I was reading the 146th 
 Psalm. The Bishop was silent and preoccupied. I read to 
 him a few verses of the psalm. When I came to the gth 
 verse, ' The Lord preseneth the strangers,' the Bishop 
 suddenly exclaimed with evident relief, ' Praise God ; He 
 has sent me His message to night. Tlte Lord preserveth 
 the strangers. My poor men are strangers, but the Lord 
 presen^eth them.' The verse came like a direct message 
 from God, and a relief from the anxiety which was in that 
 hour weighing upon him." 
 
^t. 37.] Care for Ids Porters. 331 
 
 Such a reminiscence is priceless. It reveals the man. 
 How many travellers are there who, upon the eve of an 
 eventful journev, upon which hang great results affecting 
 both themselves and the cause which they have at heart, 
 would let the fate of their bearers, the human beasts of bur- 
 den who are to carry their loads, weigh upon their minds ? 
 Had he been an ambitious man, his thoughts at that 
 moment would have been quite elsewhere. Had he been a 
 mere Ecclesiastic, a man of one idea, the Promoter of a 
 great Cause, he would not have thought hundreds of such 
 lives too dear a price to pay for the attainment of his Object. 
 But in this man we recognize something higher. He had 
 evidently drunk deeply of the spirit of Him of whom we 
 hear again and again in his letters as " our loving Father," 
 without whom " not a sparrow falls to the ground." As 
 Mr. Copplestone well says : " Applied to him, the words of 
 the Apostle are singularly fitting, ' Besides all these things 
 that are withojtt, that which cometJi upon me daily., the 
 CARE of all the C/uirches.' " 
 
 As Mr. Copplestone refers to the fact that he had not 
 seen his way to accept the Bishop's proposal to accompany 
 him to Kavirondo — as, indeed, his health, barely restored 
 after a prolonged residence at Uyui, scarcely warranted that 
 he should — I may quote here a passage from a letter, written 
 shortly before, to Mrs. Hannington, in which the Bishop 
 mentions the subject. He says : " I am now beginning to 
 wonder what Copplestone will do : whether he will accom- 
 pany me or go by the other road ; he will have had time to 
 think it over by the day I arrive at Zanzibar. It will be a 
 great comfort to you to think of him as with me, but my feel- 
 ing is that I would rather be alone, as the anxiety is rather 
 increased than otherwise by another man, however good he 
 may be. I feel this — that another man could add nothing 
 to my safety. In Jesus' keeping I am safe. And so, if 
 you hear that Brother C. takes the other road — well and 
 good ; it will be a race between us as to who will get up 
 first." 
 
 As we have seen, the Bishop, after talking the matter 
 over with Mr. Copplestone, resolved to place him at 
 
33- James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 Chagga, instead of in U-Ganda ; but eventually, his health 
 again broke down, and he returned to England. 
 
 The strain of this unceasing work was beginning to tell 
 upon Hannington, but he did not allow himself to bend for 
 a single instant, lest he should collapse into ruins. His 
 great spirit kept him up. He wrote to Mr. Wigram from 
 Zanzibar : 
 
 " Mandara (I have had letters) turns out a little trouble- 
 some, but it is not more than I expected, so you must not 
 be discouraged, but believe that we shall leave no stone 
 unturned to make matters succeed. Mine is an intensely 
 arduous and anxious post. I long to be in telegraphic 
 communication with you, but suppose it to be impossible. 
 I greatly need your prayers and all the support you can 
 
 give me ; otherwise I shall • Well, never mind, I 
 
 must succeed somehow or other, the Lord being my helper." 
 
 He writes to his wife in much the same strain : 
 
 " Work, work, work. I am nearly driven to death. I 
 have been very much overdone, and was as near as possible 
 to a break-down yesterday ; but to-day I am revived, and 
 am able to send an excellent account of myself. I was 
 delighted to think that you can trust me in His hands, who 
 has hitherto led me by the way." 
 
 On Thursday, July 23rd, the Bishop led the way out 
 of Rabai at the head of a caravan two hundred strong — an 
 army of peace, yet marching to the " pulling down of 
 strongholds." The usual caravan troubles, of course, fell 
 upon him during the first few marches from the coast. 
 Many of the porters enlist merely for the sake of the 
 earnest money, or advance wages which are given them 
 before they start, and make up their minds to desert upon 
 the first favourable opportunity. The closest watch has 
 therefore, to be kept upon them until they have got so far 
 inland that retreat is more difficult for them than advance 
 when they may be trusted to proceed tractably enough. At 
 first, too, being out of condition and lazy, they make every 
 excuse to throw down their burdens and cast themselves 
 
^t 37. TIic Start. 333 
 
 prostrate under the shade of any available bush. Especially 
 is it a formidable matter to get a large caravan of porters 
 across the burning desert of Taro. The men have no idea 
 of self-restraint, and drink up all the water intended to last 
 them for two days in as many hours ; and then have to be 
 driven, half dead with the thirst that consumes them, to 
 the far distant wells. A caravan leader needs the arms of a 
 Briareus, and the sleepless vigilance of an Argus, to keep 
 his men together during the early stages of a iournev into 
 the interior. 
 
 Hannington says: " Starvation, desertion, treachery, and 
 a few other nightmares and furies, hover over our heads in 
 ghostly forms." However, Mr. Jones, the newly-ordained 
 native clergyman whom he had decided to take with him, 
 proved a great help and comfort, taking out of his hand 
 many of the lesser responsibilities of the management. And, 
 for the rest, he did not let these things disturb the flow of 
 his spirits. All the way during that march to Taita his 
 letters reveal him to us, till we seem to see him as he strides 
 ahead with that springy step of his. Arms swinging, eyes 
 ever on the alert to notice anything new or remarkable — 
 now a snatch of song, again a shout of encouragement — a 
 leap upon some rare flower or insect — the very life and soul 
 of his company ; while ever and anon his emphatic voice 
 would be raised in the notes of some old familiar tune, and 
 the wilderness would ring to the sound of a Christian hymn — 
 
 " Peace, perfect peace, the future all unknown ; 
 Jesus we know, and He is on the Throne." 
 
 He writes to his wife from Maungu ; and the tone of 
 this letter, which he had reason to think would be his last 
 before he reached the end of his journey, is very touch- 
 ing to those who know how little he was given to 
 "sentimentalizing" in his correspondence. "I have just 
 finished forty-five miles, have cleared away the bushes 
 and lighted a fire with my own hands. You must not be 
 surprised if I am rather hazy. I have had scarcely any 
 food for eighteen hours, and have not had a wash for two 
 days, nor do I see much chance of getting more than a 
 
33+ James Hanningion. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 ' lick ' for two days more. I am afraid, however, that 
 hardships have not even commenced. God is just giving 
 me a merciful rest after the terribly severe strain I have had 
 to go through during the last twelve months.-" (His idea of a 
 " rest " is pathetic.) " How gracious God has been in giving 
 me so good a wife and such dear children and relatives ! " 
 
 His reference in the same letter, to the now near 
 approach of his separation from his colleagues and plunge 
 into the unknown district is of much interest. " Everything 
 I hear makes me think that the dangers of the road are 
 greatly exaggerated. It is pot the danger that I fear in the 
 least, but the want of food, or a sufficient stock of beads, or 
 something of that kind, which might turn us back. I have 
 not been able to take as much as Thomson took, and he 
 found that his store was soon exhausted. I am not, however, 
 conscious yet of any neglect on my part, so I am content to 
 leave the issue in His dear Hands." 
 
 How correct was his judgment the result has clearly 
 shown. His danger did not lie among the Masai. 
 
 He continues : "I hope the dearest ohes keep well — as 
 well as their father; then they will do." Then follovvs 
 reference to some friends who, he hopes, will forgive him 
 for not writing to them, on the plea that his hands were 
 very full of business. " I wonder if I delude mvself in this 
 respect. We sometimes fancy we are busy when we are 
 onlv idle. I leave them to judge. God bless them all." 
 (Such words need no comment — but they irresistibly recall 
 to our minds the words of the Master, " IVheii the fniit is 
 ripe, immediately he putteth in the sickle, because the 
 harvest is come.") "And now, fare thee well, for a time 
 You must scarcely venture to expect another letter for a 
 month or two, but just leave me in His Hands." 
 
 A day or two later, however, he found another oppor- 
 tunity of scribbling a few lines in pencil from Taita. "I 
 am hoping," he says, " before long to advance to where I 
 don't exactly know, but along Thomson's homeward route 
 to Ndi and Ukambani. Food seems the great difficulty as 
 the country has not recovered from the famine." ' 
 
 But even this was not to be the last letter. Another 
 
^.t. 37.] Lost in the Jungle. 335 
 
 chance of getting a word home occurred at Kikumbuliu 
 and from there he sent his last lines both to his wife and 
 to his friends the workers at Frere Town. To the former 
 he writes : 
 
 "Kikumbuliu, 
 
 ''Aug. II, 188.5. 
 "My Dearest, — There is a remote chance of this 
 reaching the coast. I have found a man who says that he is 
 going before very long, so you may get it. The burden of 
 my song must be Praise, and the teaching of every lesson 
 has been Trust ; so comfort your heart during my absence. 
 But to the journey. We left Taita on Thursday, July 30th. 
 We mistook the road a little, as far as I can make out, and 
 kept too much to the east, camping on the banks of the 
 Voi. The next day we had intense difficulty in forging 
 through the bulrush-fringed banks, and again took a wrong 
 road, which led us nearly due west, but it led after all in the 
 right direction, and conducted us to Ndi (of Thomson), where 
 we found plenty of food, and were able, without strain on 
 our resources, to rest both Saturday and Sunday. Here we 
 obtained a guide, but all to no purpose, for on Monday, 
 Aug. 3rd, soon after starting we found ourselves lost over 
 and over again. The fact is, that the famine has decimated 
 the country and many of the roads have perished.* We 
 got scattered as we forged our way through the dense jungle, 
 so 1 took the lead, and climbing a tree got a survey of the 
 country ; and so was able to strike for a mass of rock that 
 formed a landmark. Finally, after firing guns to collect the 
 stragglers, we found ourselves together at sunset, after a very 
 fatiguing day for some of us. The men, fortunately, were 
 not over-taxed, as they rested while we explored or broke 
 through the jungle. On the next day, the 4th, we made 
 our way as straight as we could across country, and arrived 
 long before I had dared to hope at the river Tsavo. Here 
 I was a little feverish, from over-anxiety and walking in a 
 
 * The Rev. W. Jones says : — "All is saddening. The Jimba 
 of 1883 is not Jimba of 1885. All its beauty is gone. All its fine 
 sugar-canes are gone. Its fields are turned into wild jungle. All 
 is dreary and desolate.'' 
 
33^ James Hannington. [A.D. iS^S- 
 
 very hot sun through a forest more shadeless even than that 
 of Taro. It is no small thing to lose yourself in a waterless 
 desert. The Tsavo is broad and clear, and full of iishj^sorne 
 of which we caught. Here we struck the mam U-Kamba 
 road, which passe's the south-east side of the Taita Hills, so 
 all anxiety about getting lost again was at an end. 
 
 " We were told here that we should not get any more 
 water until the third day ; but we had a cool day for our 
 start, and the next day we quite unexpectedly reached a fine 
 pool. This helped us along wonderfully.* The next two 
 nights we camped without water ; but on Saturday, Aug. 
 8th, we arrived at some villages of the Wa-Kamba. Here 
 we learned that food was exceedingly short. Anxiety tried 
 to press upon me ; but again the good Hand of our God was 
 upon us, and we got enough to enable us to rest there over 
 Sunday. Yesterday, Monday, the lOth, we reached a 
 denselv populous district (Thomson's Nosanga) where food 
 was plentiful. Another three days, and we should be at 
 Ulu i there report says people are dying of famine : if this 
 is so we shall have difficulty in getting through, and there 
 seems to be no game of any sort to help out the men. My 
 one fear is insufficiency of stuff. If I had been permitted 
 to start with fifty men less I should have been more san- 
 guine, but I can see less hope of retreat. So, with God's 
 help, speedy advance must be the word. I am quite aware 
 that this is the easy part of the journey, and that far greater 
 difficulties from hongo-demanding natives are ahead, but 
 if this is God's time for opening up this road, zvc sJiali 
 open it lip. 
 
 " ' VVe are a little poor,' as Jones says. My watch has 
 gone wrong. The candles and lamp oil were forgotten and 
 left behind, so that the camp fire has to serve instead. My 
 donkey has died, so that I must walk every step of the way 
 Well ! Having no watch, I don't wake up in the nio-ht to 
 see if it is time to get up, but wait till daylight dawns. 
 Having no candle, I don't read at night, which never suits 
 me. Having no donkey, I can judge better as to distances 
 
 Note in pocket-book : This pool " cannot be reckoned u 
 
 pon.' 
 
^t. 37.] Last Letter from the Desert. 337 
 
 and as to what the men can do ; for many marches depend 
 upon my saying, ' We will stop here and rest, or sleep.' 
 
 " My greatest trial is that I have a very inefficient staff 
 of headmen, and nobody with me who really knows the 
 road. Of course, I was assured before we started that many 
 whom I had engaged had been over the road again and 
 again. One man was said to have been over \t five times. 
 
 " And now, just leave me in the Hands of the Lord, and 
 let our watchword be, ' We will trust, and not be afraid.' 
 
 " Many kisses. 
 
 " Your most affectionate Husband, 
 
 "James." 
 
 And here all correspondence ceases. His friends heard 
 no more of him until that fatal telegram received from 
 Zanzibar on New Year's Day, 1886 : 
 
 " Bishop Hannington, who left Mombasa in June last, 
 in order to find, if possible, a new road to the Victoria 
 which will obviate the long detour by Unyanyembe, has 
 been seized by order of the king, within two days' march 
 of U-Ganda. The latest report is that the king has given 
 secret orders to have the Bishop executed." 
 
 Happily, his own tiny pocket diary, with its daily jot- 
 tings, has been recovered by a Christian lad at Rubaga, 
 who bought it from one of the band that murdered him. 
 Happily, also, his native friend, the Rev. William Jones, 
 who accompanied him as far as Kwa Sundu, kept a journal, 
 which is now in my hands. From these two sources we 
 are enabled to gather much of what occurred from day to 
 day almost until the end. 
 
 Mr. Jones' pencilled diary of the journey is full of in- 
 teresting details. I wish that space permitted to quote 
 from it more fully, but, as it is, many of the following 
 extracts have been condensed. He has written, as a kind 
 of title upon the fly-leaf, the words, " Behind my Bishop 
 through Masai Land " ; and the tone of the entire narrative 
 abundantly testifies to his love and devotion to " his 
 Bishop." A testimony, no doubt, to the worth of the man 
 himself, about which all seem to agree ; but an additional 
 
 22 
 
338 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 evidence also of the strange attractive power which Han- 
 nington exercised over all who were brought into contact 
 with him. When they were leaving Taita, one of the 
 Wa-Zaramo boys who had been engaged to carry food for 
 the caravan, and who were all paid ofF and discharged near 
 Taita, insisted that he would follow the Bishop. No 
 arguments availed. " Whither thou goest I will go," and 
 finally the poor lad was taken. Hannington did not need 
 painfully to exact homage from his dependents after the 
 manner of other mortals ; it was yielded to him spon- 
 taneously, and as his due. 
 
 Mr. Jones describes in the following manner the consti- 
 tution of the caravan bound for the Lake. First the amount 
 of goods {?>., the equivalent of money), and necessary food, 
 etc. Cloth, 24 loads. Wire, 51. (This is greatly in de- 
 mand among the Masai, and is worn by the women as 
 arrhlets, leglets, and necklets.) Provision boxes, 19. 
 Powder, 10. Shot, i. Beads, 21. Baskets, 5. Bishop's 
 personal luggage, 6. Fowl box, i Cooking pot, i. 
 Washing tub, ]. Rice, 4. Beans, 13. Millet, 5. Shells, 7. 
 Salt, 2. Dates, i. Bishop's cot, i. Biscuit boxes, 5. Jones' 
 personal luggage and tent, 6. 
 
 The headmen of the caravan were Ibraim, Arthur, 
 Bedui, Hassani, Asumani, and Kiongozi (also the interpre- 
 ter). The under headmen were Gilbert Juma, Mbaruku, 
 Mwandzingo, Tosiri, Abdalla, and Tofiki. 
 
 The caravan was divided into three sections : First 
 Zanzibar and Mombasa Mohammedans, 106. Second' 
 Rabai men, 66. Third, Kisauni, 54. in all 226 men ■ 
 the Bishop and Jones bringing up the total number to 328' 
 
 It will be easily understood that the feeding of such an 
 army in a famine-stricken district can have been no simple 
 husmess. The "anxiety" to which the Bishop refers in 
 his letter was not uncalled for. It must have been a very 
 real relief when the caravan reached parts in which food 
 was once more obtainable upon the usual terms 
 
 We may now by the aid of the Bishop's brief jottings, 
 supplemented by Mr Jones diary, continue our narrative 
 from the date of his last letter. 
 
^t. Z7-^ ^oss of the Medicine Chest. 339 
 
 AiLg. iitJi. — One of the men fell ill, and had to be 
 left behind, supplied with enough cloth to enable him to 
 return home. " Poor fellow ! he was very sorry to part 
 from his old companions in the caravan." The rest started 
 at six a.m., and after a hard march of eleven hours, reached 
 a fine stream — the Kuombi, or Kiumbi — two hours from 
 which they halted. The Bishop writes : " Game abund- 
 ant ;" and Jones describes how, during the march, they shot 
 a number of guinea-fowl, and supplied the camp with fresh 
 meat ; he then goes on to say, " To-day, for the first time 
 in my life, I saw the mountain of Kilima-njaro. It looked 
 like a large table covered with a great white sheet." On 
 this day a grave misfortune happened. The boy who bore 
 the medicine chest was nowhere to be found. The Bishop 
 would not believe that the boy had run away, nor did it 
 seem probable that he would do so in that remote region. 
 The medicine, too, could not be dispensed with ; so he 
 offered six doti of cloth to any man who would find the 
 boy, and detached ten men from his own party to retrace 
 their steps as far as the last camp.* 
 
 During the whole of Aug. 14th, they fought their way 
 through an obstinate jungle that lies between the Kiangeni 
 River and Ulu, at which latter place they arrived at four 
 p.m., and camped at the foot of the Nzawi Hill by the 
 River Chamela. The country here is beautifully wooded, 
 and the climate temperate, the mornings and evenings being 
 cold enough to cause the Coast porters some discomfort. 
 The people tried to be troublesome, and wanted to exact a 
 large hongo. The Bishop offered them three doti, which they 
 accepted scornfully and asked for more. He immediately 
 ordered the hongo to be taken from them, and walked ofF 
 to his tent. The elders were confounded, not being accus- 
 tomed to be treated otherwise than with humble deference 
 by passing caravans. When, however, they saw that the 
 Mzungu (white man) was in earnest, they called for the 
 
 * Tlie search appears to have been to no purpose. Han- 
 nington writes, " I suppose I ought to turn back ; but no, not 
 yet." 
 
340 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 interpreter, and begged that his master would not be angry, 
 but would let them have the three doti. 
 
 This was repeated more than once at different stages of 
 the journey through Ulu. On one occasion, when the 
 Bishop moved steadily on, and refused to listen to their 
 plaguing demands, they could not conceal their surprise and 
 bewilderment. But they soon came to their senses when 
 they saw their hongo vanishing with rapid strides into the 
 jungle. So much so that one of the most importunate turned 
 to J ones and said, " I was only making fun"; whereupon 
 he at once replied, "And so, of course, was 1," and matters 
 were amicably settled by the payment of a moderate sum. 
 
 Aug. i6th being Sunday, the Rabai men and others who 
 were willing to attend Service were summoned by the 
 sound of Mr. Jones' whistle. He says : " I preached to 
 them both morning and evening, and we sang the hymn^ 
 ' For ever with the Lord.' " Nor could a more suitable 
 camp hymn be possibly chosen. We may here mention that 
 every day was begun and concluded with public prayer. 
 
 On Aug. 1 8th, at about II a.m., their way was blocked 
 by a mob of armed men. Mr. Jones writes: "They 
 demanded most vehemently that we should not pass till 
 something had been given to them. Halt, halt, they cried i 
 if not, we will fight. Our interpreter trembled from head 
 to foot, and said to me. Do not resist them, or we shall all 
 be killed. On and on I moved, followed by the whole 
 caravan, threatened on every side by the infuriated crowd. 
 The bearer of the Union Jack trembled fearfully, and 
 heartily wished himself away. I stopped the caravan that 
 we might discover where the Bishop was, for the throng 
 was so dense that we could not see each otiier. By and by 
 the Bishop appeared. At the sight of his lordship the bar- 
 barians gave way like a cloud before the wind. They were 
 all amazed to see the Bishop, for many of them had never 
 seen a white man in their life. They stood thunderstruck 
 and gazing at him. The Bishop made his way through 
 the crowd Then many of them resisted him with all 
 their might, without any respect or regard for his 
 dignity. 1 was close to him, and began to be anxious for 
 
.^t. 37.] The Way Blocked. 341 
 
 his lordship ; but he walked rapidly on quite regardless 
 of their yellings and ferocious cries. Twice they barred our 
 way with a human fence, and twice we passed through them 
 to their great astonishment. The Bishop all this time was 
 quite calm, and only smiled at all their gestures and menaces. 
 At last we came to a stream which divided one district from 
 another. They refused to let us pass, but the Bishop went 
 •straight ahead, and was followed by all the caravan. We 
 arrived safely at Mboni towards 3 o'clock in the afternoon, 
 and wjre not sorry to have reached a resting-place. I was 
 greatly amused to see the very men who had given us so 
 much annoyance an hour ago come round to our camp to 
 barter and dispose of their goods. We bore them no enmity, 
 but hospitably invited them in." 
 
 It then appeared that one of the men had picked up an 
 empty ostrich egg which lay at the foot of a large tree by 
 the wayside. This egg was a charm, and hongo was 
 demanded from the unwitting culprit. As the Bishop's 
 party were now in a position of security, the matter was 
 easily settled by a trifling present. 
 
 On Aug. 19th they started to try and reach Machako's 
 Hill, but were misled by some guides and came short of 
 their goal. They passed the night in a deep valley about 
 six miles distant. " On the way we passed through high, 
 lonely hills, which all trend toward the north. It is difliicult 
 to say how beautiful the Ulu country is. It is a country full 
 of water and cattle. All provisions are plentiful and cheap. 
 
 '■'■Aug. 7.0. — Reached Machako's Hill. Densely popu- 
 lated : pies much in request ; beads will pass for a few 
 things, and all kinds of wire. Climate suitable for 
 Europeans. Very cold at night, and the days sometimes so 
 cloudy that the sun is not seen at all." 
 
 Aug. 2ist was spent in buying food for three days, as 
 the march to Ngongo a Bagas is across a plain where 
 nothing can be obtained. Jones describes this district as 
 ^' one vast plain extending for miles westward, and dotted 
 with small hills." On these grassy prairies the Masai pasture 
 their immense herds of cattle. Across this plain they 
 
344 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 do, but in vain ; their fears were not to be allayed. But 
 Mr. Jones must tell his own story : " The Bishop returned, 
 thoroughly disheartened, disappointed, and discouraged. 
 ' Bwana,' he said, ' bring me a gun-cap tin box.' He then 
 took all our remaining grain, and measured it out. He 
 found it to be 70 small teacups. 'Three times that_ is 
 210?' 'Yes, my lord.' 'Well, call the men, and give 
 each a cap-box full.' I summoned our starving people 
 together, and distributed the grain accordingly. After being 
 the whole day without food, a cap-box full of grain would 
 seem to be nothing. But to our men it was something. 
 They all moved away to their fires, and ate with less gloom 
 upon their faces. Few of them, however, slept that night. 
 Some cried, ' Let us go back.' Others asked, ' Is this our 
 last place ? Have we been brought here to die ? ' Of 
 course they knew that they could not go back, and that 
 there was no retreat. The camp was filled with cries and 
 weeping. The elders were again summoned, but could 
 recommend nothing. So the Bishop bid them again to try 
 and get food from the Wa-Kikuyu ; they were then dis- 
 missed, and I whistled for our Rabai men to come to prayers. 
 After prayers the Bishop and I, as a rule, sit down by our 
 fire and talk over the day's work, and now and then peep 
 into Thomson's book, to see what he says. We are very 
 much indebted to that author for many good suggestions. 
 The result of this night's talk was that I started off early in 
 the morning with 20 men, as the Bishop told me not to 
 take more lest I should alarm the natives. I took a few 
 strings of beads, and some cloth, and iron wire. We crossed 
 the stream, made our fire upon a rock, and sat down. Like 
 Heralds at Ear-Gate, we fired our guns as a salute, 
 though we could see no one through the impenetrable under- 
 growth. After waiting two hours, a single man came out 
 from the forest, with fresh leaves in his hand, as a mark of 
 submission and peace. We also plucked leaves and waved 
 them, after which he drew near. He said the Chief was 
 clo?e by, and wanted to know whether we had come to fight 
 or to buy grain. We explained, and the man flew to his 
 friends, to tell them that we wanted to buv food and not to 
 
^t. 37.] Difficulties with the Wa-Kiktiyu. 345 
 
 fight. Three men next stepped out of the wood, told us 
 the Chief was coming, and disappeared. Then the Chief 
 came towards us, a man of about fifty years old, and half- 
 drunk, reeling to and fro like a ship in a storm. He first 
 spat in his hand,* and, with its filthy contents streaming 
 down, this savage potentate shook hands with me. I was 
 not at all inclined to reach my hand to him, but it could not 
 be helped. I asked to eat muma with him and his people, 
 after which I would give him the present I had brought for 
 him. They refused to eat muma with us, and clamoured 
 for the presents, which I gave them ; after that they pro- 
 mised to bring food for sale. Off they went, and in a quarter 
 of an hour buying and selling began. Trade had scarcely 
 become brisk, however, when the natives showed signs 
 of hostility. They threatened us from a distance with 
 their sliields, shooting arrows in our direction and brandish- 
 ing their swords. We took no notice, though I kept mv 
 eye upon them. But, as arrow after arrow was shot at 
 us, I gave orders to the men to hold their guns in readiness, 
 which they. did. The Wa-Kikuyu shouted, and made the 
 women who were selling return back. The children all 
 fled. None remained but men, who all began to yell and 
 shoot their arrows at us. My men were panic-stricken. 
 We had a dense jungle behind us, and some of them 
 retreated into it, which, of course, encouraged the natives. 
 They drew closer, and their poisoned arrows fell among us. 
 I told the men not to fire, and we retreated slowly with the 
 food we had bought, keeping our faces toward the enemy, 
 lest our backs should be turned into targets. Happily, they 
 did not follow us into the jungle. With our guns we were 
 more than a match for them, had we chosen to fire ; but I 
 felt that I should do nothing which would grieve the Bishop 
 and give our caravan a bad name. I picked up eight poisoned 
 arrows that fell among us. 
 
 "When I reported myself to the Bishop, I found that some 
 Masai had come into camp. They had just found us out, and 
 
 * Spitting upon a stranger in this district is a mark of friend- 
 ship, and the highest compliment. 
 
34S James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 in natives,* and believed that they would not try to kill a 
 European ; but he was to-day roughly undeceived ; for the 
 men who had completed their own sales began to assume a 
 defiant attitude, and raised their war cry. The women at 
 once fled. The Bishop ran to the front and waved some 
 grass in token of peace, and for a time order was restored. 
 Looking round, however, he saw a group of men close 
 behind him, with their bows bent, and on the point of shoot- 
 ing. When they caught his eye they retreated. We had 
 by this time purchased enough to make a move, and so, 
 after a fortnight's delay, and being brought to the verge of 
 starvation by these provoking Wa-Kikuyu, we packed up our 
 goods, and on Tuesday, the 8th, resumed our march to 
 Mianzini." 
 
 The foregoing extract from Mr. Jones' diary affords 
 a good illustration of the patience and cool courage with 
 which Bishop Hannington would encounter a serious 
 difficulty. It is a no less remarkable instance of the 
 method which he consistently adopted in dealing with the 
 natives. He was determined, at all costs, to win their con- 
 fidence, and to teach them, by firm and just treatment, that 
 the good faith of a Christian might be implicitly relied upon. 
 On this occasion, he had to deal with a case of unusual 
 difficulty. Not only were the natives of a peculiarly timid, 
 treacherous, and wolfish nature, but they had been accus- 
 tomed to have to do with the slave-taking Swahili traders, 
 and to hold intercourse with their caravans much as a pack 
 of shrinking, snarling jackals might try to snatch a mouth- 
 ful in the presence of the lion. 
 
 On Tuesday, Sept. 8th, the long caravan was again in 
 motion. The greatest care had now to be taken to guard 
 against an attack from the rear. The path skirted the forest 
 for a long distance, and every bush concealed a lurkino- foe. 
 
 * He writes : " They never attempt to offer me the sHcrhtest 
 show of insult. Half a mile from our men, I was not unfrequently 
 alone with them ; while, if a black man is with me it is with the 
 utmost difficulty that they keep their hands off him nearly 
 stabbing him at my side." 
 
^;t. 37.] Routed by Bees. 349 
 
 Mr. Thomson's caravan was here set upon and very roughly 
 treated, while some of his cattle were killed. Mr. Jones 
 writes : 
 
 " As we were descending a steep track, a rush was 
 made upon the sick, who were being carried in the rear, by 
 a host of Wa-Kikuyu. The men in charge of the sick fled, 
 but they, strange to say, revived and flew for their lives, 
 escaping with a few blows from clubs. When we heard the 
 alarm, the Bishop and some of our men ran back to the 
 scene of action, and a volley put the enemy to flight. At 
 the end of the plain there is a fine tree, towards which all 
 our men at once made, to rest beneath its shadow. They 
 had scarcely sat down when they were attacked furiously by 
 an enemy worse than the Wa-Kikuyu. A vast swarm of 
 bees came down from the tree, and settled upon the caravan 
 in thousands. The men ran for their lives, many of them 
 dropping their loads. The bees covered the ground for some 
 two hundred yards in every direction from the tree. The 
 Bishop bid the men who had dropped their loads return and 
 fetch them ; but though they tried, they found it simply 
 impossible to do so ; many of them actually cried like child- 
 ren, and called upon their mothers ; everyone was stung 
 more or less. The Bishop made the attempt to reach the 
 deserted loads himself, but was driven back. He then 
 draped himself in his mosquito curtains and tried again, but 
 before he got the loads he was stung most pitifully. My 
 own eyes were so closed by the swelling from stings that 
 I was almost totally blind for two days." 
 
 On Wednesday, Sept. 9th, they crossed the River 
 Kedong. Mr. Jones continues : " We slept in a Masai 
 kraal for the first time. The kraal caught fire owing to 
 the carelessness of the men, and we were burnt out." 
 
 On Sept. loth they camped within sight of Lake Nai- 
 vasha. The next day they weie introduced, in the neighbour- 
 hood of that lake, to the notorious Masai. Mr. Jones 
 writes : " Though their name is a terror to all surrounding 
 countries, yet in their own land they are not so savage. 
 The married men are hospitably inclined toward strangers, 
 and if the hongo is paid in time all is peace and pleasant- 
 
350 James Hamiington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 ness. As soon as we reached Naivasha, we were surrounded 
 by the young warriors, whom they call El Moran ; it is 
 from these that trouble comes. I said to the Bishop 
 that, after all, they did not seem to be so bad as they 
 had been described. ' Wait,' said he, ' you have not seen 
 them yet.' 
 
 "The morning of Sept. 12th broke most gloriously, but 
 little peace was in store for us. By 7 a.m. our camp was 
 filled with Masai women, bringing all kinds of things for 
 sale. They talked and trafficked with our people most 
 freely. As they poured into the camp, they brought with 
 them swarms of flies. We soon found that our boma 
 (fence) was too weak ; but that could not now be remedied. 
 The El Moran, too, began to flock in, and to sing war songs 
 and shout vociferously. The El Moran is an idle creature, 
 who looks upon himself as born into the world for no other 
 purpose than to shed blood. He regards all the other tribes 
 as infinitely beneath him. He expects to be treated with 
 great respect and consideration by ail the caravans which 
 enter his country, and regards the coast porters with huge 
 contempt. His body is smeared with red earth, and an oil 
 called mbuu ; his hair is twisted into tails which hang down 
 his forehead and shoulders. He possesses a fine-shaped head, 
 which approaches, in many respects, that of the Anglo-Saxon 
 though his cheekbones are very high and prominent. As a 
 rule, the El Moran is tall, and, as he lives on nothing but 
 flesh and milk, his body is remarkably strong and solid. He 
 lives in a separate kraal, with his girl companions of his own 
 age. At this stage, the El Moran has no thought of mar- 
 riage, till his time as a warrior is served out. He does not 
 generally, marry until about thirty years of age, after which 
 he lays down his spear, and counts himself unfit for the 
 field. The only nation he regards with any respect is the 
 European. He calls the white man Ngai, which may be 
 said to mean a son of the gods. He is not an atheist but 
 worships the Supreme Being. When a caravan arrives El 
 Moran comes with great pride and dignity of demeanour to 
 demand a hongo, which has to be given, or mischief will soon 
 oUow. About a thousand, or even three thousand of these 
 
A MASAI WARRIOR (EL-MORAN). 
 
^t. 37.] Introduction to the Masai. 351 
 
 El Moran, and their girl consorts, live together in a circular 
 kraal. They never go about alone either at home or to the 
 battlefield, but by twos. It is considered shameful and de- 
 grading that an El Moran should return alive if his chosen 
 companion has been killed in battle. 
 
 " Such are the Masai as young warriors ; but as soon as 
 they marry they put oiF their fierceness and settle down to 
 a peaceable life. They are no longer ferocious, blood-thirsty, 
 and turbulent, but are very remarkably kind to strangers, 
 and especially to any women who may be in a caravan. 
 They go about shaking hands most heartily with the 
 foreigners, and are fond of entering into conversation 
 with them." So writes Mr. Jones, and his words form 
 an interesting addition to what Mr. Thomson has 
 written on the same subject. He continues : " How to 
 bring the knowledge of God's truth to this nomadic tribe — 
 but., the time will come.''' Mr. Jones and the interpreter 
 approached the group of young braves seated, each with his 
 broad-bladed, glittering spear stuck in the ground by his 
 side. " They arrogantly told us that they were the young 
 warriors of the Masai, and had come to demand a honga 
 from the foreigners. They sneered at us when we tried to 
 reduce the enormous tax they wished to extort from us. 
 I told the trembling interpreter to say that I was not in a 
 position to offer more than my Bishop had set apart for the 
 purpose. No sooner did they see the presents than they all 
 sprang up as if in a towering rage, moved back a is^fr yards 
 and again sat down. ' We will show you how to respect us ' 
 they cried. The interpreter was dreadfully frightened, and 
 his body seemed to shake from head to foot. ' Why ' said 
 he, with his two hands stretched out imploringly to me 
 ' why not give them what they want ? ' The present 
 refused consisted of forty coils of iron wire, six pieces of 
 calico, and forty strings of white and blue beads. More and 
 more of the young warriors poured in upon us, and the 
 situation seemed to be getting critical. I went in to the 
 Bishop, and told him that we were having difficulty with the 
 warriors, so he came out himself and tried to reason with 
 them. They most insolently replied that they did not race 
 
35^ James Hannington. [A.D. i885- 
 
 whether he were a Swahili or a European ; what they 
 wanted was their hongo, and that they meant to get. fn 
 such occasions the Bishop was wont to take matters rnost 
 patiently, and patience was sorely needed now. The whole 
 camp was in trouble. The Masai men and wornen thronged 
 everywhere, till our own people were not visible among 
 them; so, after some discussion, the Bishop yielded, and more 
 goods were given to these hungry wolves. They were now 
 satisfied ; but a few more beads were still asked for as a gift, 
 which the Bishop gave to them. At about loa.m. a second 
 gang turned up, and began shouting to us from without the 
 stockade. They had, it appeared, come from a different 
 quarter, and wanted the same hongo as the first. Abdallah 
 and a few others were busy in my tent cutting the wire and 
 cloth and arranging the loads, and by and by we paid off 
 this second detachment. It was now midday. The Bishop 
 had not had an instant to rest. His tent was stormed by 
 Masai elders, who seated themselves upon everything. The 
 boys did not know what to do. Nobody dared to tell a 
 Masai to move. My own tent was guarded at both entrances, 
 but they peeped under the flaps, and pulled out whatever 
 they could lay hold of. Everywhere they were pilfering. 
 Whenever the men tried to resist them they pointed their 
 spears at them. All got nervous ; all were hungry, but 
 none dared to sit down and eat. Our visitors began to tear 
 open the loads and turn over the boxes, while the guards 
 were shamefully handled. I could not sit for a minute ; my 
 heart would not let me rest. Every moment [ anticipated 
 an attack. Our men were all on tenterhooks of appre- 
 hension. The Bishop himself was puzzled and confused. 
 His tent was filled. The chair, the cot, the wash-tub, 
 bags, biscuit-boxes — all held Masai. One could not go 
 through. The cloth of the tent was spoiled by the red 
 earth and oil with which their bodies were daubed and 
 everything was more or less smeared with it. 
 
 "The Bishop retreated to a tree and sat down upon his 
 stool. Soon the guards over om- s-oods began to disperse 
 through the pressure upon tnem ; my boy Assumani was 
 fast getting mud in trying to keep people out of my tent. 
 
^t. 37.] Troubleso7ne Visitors, 353 
 
 The iron pegs of the Bishop's tent were being pulled up and 
 ■stolen. A Masai seated himself behind Pinto the cook, and 
 coolly stole a table-knife. He was running ofl, ^^\\.s.n. I saw 
 him and gave chase, and with difficulty got it back. Sud- 
 denly the guards shouted, 'A load of wire is going,' and a 
 group of young warriors was seen bearing it off among 
 them, none daring to resist them. I ran after them, and 
 flinging myself into their midst, dashed the load to the 
 ground without regarding their threatening spears. They 
 were greatly astonished, but then gave way, and I bore the 
 load back in triumph to camp. One of our men got his 
 head cut open with a spear thrust ; another had his clothes 
 taken ; but I saw the thief, and made him return the 
 garment. 
 
 " A third gang of warriors now appeared, and were 
 chanting their mournful songs. The Bishop asked me to 
 return and settle with them, and when I came back to 
 him I was utterly surprised to see two ancients seated with 
 him and conversing in the most serious mood. I brought 
 the interpreter and left them together. It was now 3 p.m. 
 and we all looked toward the sun and longed that it should 
 go down. No day surely passed so slowly as that day. 
 The third gang was satisfied ; but now the Masai seemed 
 bent on robbery. They threatened our men with their 
 spears, and teased and insulted everybody. All of a sudden 
 a cry was raised that the women should leave the boma. 
 They at once retreated, and the El Moran stood to their 
 spears. As many of our men as were bold enough held 
 their guns in readiness, but more than half of our strength 
 was away, as the men were hunting by the lake. Happily 
 the riot was quelled somehow, and nothing came of it.* 
 Lastly came the ' doctor.' ' The old and the youno- have 
 got their hongo. Where is mine as doctor of the nation ? ■" 
 said he, defiantly smiling. After almost endless discussion he 
 was paid off. Then another, who declared that he had been 
 useful in some way or another, put in a claim. More dis- 
 cussion, and lie at length was satisfied. Then the Masai 
 
 * The Bishop writes : " I strove in prayer, and each time 
 trouble seemed to be averted." 
 
 23 
 
354 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 boys had to receive strings of beads.* .... Hungry 
 and thirsty the Bishop and I sat down to our evening meal. 
 The place at length seemed clear. But no — our friends came 
 in to see us eat. They touched and befouled everything 
 eatable w^ith their filthy fingers. We vi^ere at our Visit's 
 end. It was not till dark that we finally cleared the camp." 
 The Masai were pleased to express their admiration of 
 the Bishop, notwithstanding their scurvy treatment of him. 
 As they examined him closely, stroked his hair and smoothed 
 his beard, and then drew back to contemplate his manly and 
 well-set figure, rivalling their own tall race in height, they 
 would murmur, " Lumuruo Kito ! " (a very great old man !) 
 It is possible that much of their teasing and besmirching 
 attention was intended as a compliment, but if so, it was a 
 species of compliment that would soon have rendered the life 
 of its object unbearable. To live among the Masai is like 
 moving among a troop of lithe and beautiful, but half-tamed 
 leopards. The traveller has to be ever on the alert, or he 
 will be pinned by the throat. Not yet had the caravan 
 passed a more trying day. Every man in it was utterly 
 exhausted. Never had they so longed for the evening. All 
 watched with feverish anxiety till at length the great red 
 disc of the sun set behind the mountain range of Mau, and 
 
 " Slowly by God's hand unfurled 
 Down around the weary world 
 Fell the darkness." 
 
 One such day was enough. The next morning the 
 camp was broken up, and the caravan was on its way north- 
 
 * The Masai boys, until the age of fourteen, are called El-Aiok. 
 They are then circumcised and attached to the warriors' kraals as 
 general assistants, and are termed Elbarnodi. Between about the 
 ages of seventeen and twenty-five or thirty they serve as warriors 
 and are known as El-Moran. After marriage the Masai becomes 
 an El-moruo, and generally quits the war path and becomes a staid 
 and respectable member of society. The unmarried girls, who 
 live in promiscuous intercourse with the El-Moran in their special 
 kraals, are called En-ditto (pL, En-doye). The Masai are not 
 governed by chiefs, but by elders elected by popular vote, and who 
 hold then- office only so long as they give general satisfaction 
 They may, therefore, be termed republicans ! 
 
^t. 27-^ The Hunter Hunted. 355 
 
 ward with the rising sun. The way led through " deep 
 valleys, as if they had been excavated." 
 
 On the 14th they saw the last of the troublesome Masai,* 
 and camped at a place where, some years ago, " a caravan 
 of a thousand men was surrounded and cut to pieces by the 
 Masai." 
 
 On the 15th they continued their way almost due north 
 toward Njemps, passing through the volcanic region near 
 Lakes Elmeteita and Nakuro. 
 
 On the 1 6th, the Bishop writes : "Misled by Thomson's 
 map, I took a wrong direction, going too much north. A 
 great corner may be cut oiF by management. Reached 
 Doreta." 
 
 Mr. Jones writes: "On Sept. i8th we discovered a 
 new lake, as we marched a little out of Mr. Thomson's 
 road. It is not mentioned or marked by Mr. T. We 
 slept on its banks. This lake lies south-east of the hot 
 springs which are seen before reaching Njemps. 
 
 "At about midday we came across a herd of elephants. 
 The Bishop saw an opportunity of supplying the hungry 
 caravan, and at once charged them. A cow elephant, in 
 return, charged his lordship furiously. While the Bishop 
 was thus engaged with the elephants, two rhinoceroses 
 started up and made straight towards where he stood. I 
 was standing upon a high precipice, from whence I could 
 see all that was going on below. I shouted to the Bishop 
 to beware of the two rhinoceroses, who were coming down 
 rapidly upon him. But both he and Brahim, who was with 
 him, failed to see them. Just as the cow elephant was 
 charging the Bishop, the rhinoceroses got in between, and 
 
 * Three Masai brought an ox for sale. With these the Bishop 
 made great friends, and allowed them to pass the night in his 
 tent. He writes : " Having strewed the floor with the leaves of the 
 sweet-scented Caleshwa, we laid us down, their spears and shields 
 at their sides. They packed themselves away like sardines in a 
 box, and I covered them over, first with a leopard's skin, then 
 with a grass mat, and finally with a waterproof sheet. They fell 
 almost immediately into a most gentle sleep. I soon followed 
 their example. Wherever we meet we are to be brothers." 
 
356 James Hannington. [a.D. 1885. 
 
 the elephant at once turned her attention to them, and 
 charged down upon them instead of the Bishop. And now, 
 from the top of my rock, I witnessed a very singular 
 spectacle. The Bishop running and volleying the ele- 
 phants ; the elephants chasing the rhinoceroses ; a leopard 
 hunting my dog Tom ; and the caravan men dashing 
 down their loads and scattering in every direction before 
 the great beasts ! It was soon over, however, for the Bishop 
 bagged his elephant, and almost brought down a second. 
 
 " When our hungry people saw the elephant fall, they 
 shouted for joy. That elephant was soon disposed of The 
 men scrambled forward with their knives, and in a few 
 minutes the huge beast was cut in pieces. Some of the 
 men ate the meat raw, while others made large fires, and sat 
 
 round to enjoy their feast As they were not 
 
 'allowed to camp there, almost every man made up an extra 
 load of meat to carry on with him." 
 
 The next two days were spent in fruitless wandering. 
 The party went astray in following what seemed a good lead, 
 but which turned out to be a cid de sac, from which they 
 only extricated themselves after some desperate work, clam- 
 bering over a steep hill of a thousand feet, which brought 
 them once more upon the plain. 
 
 The Bishop writes : " I seem to see now why we lost 
 ■our way. The game which we had shot supplied us with 
 meat and enabled us to spend Sunday here in a beautiful 
 spot, free from natives, and in peace and quiet ; otherwise 
 we should have been in Njemps in the thick of worry and 
 bustle. The heat is intense, as Baringo lies in a deep hole. 
 We have descended 3000 feet since last Sunday. We 
 had our two pleasant Services, and the day passed in the 
 most absolute rest and peace. I lay stretched on my back 
 in quiet contemplation and sweet dreams of dear ones at 
 home, and often longing,^ often wondering whether I shall 
 be permitted to see them." 
 
 After resting throughout Sunday, the Bishop entered 
 Njemps, near Late Baringo. There are two villages of 
 that name. The caravan made its way to the smaller 
 The Wa-Kwafi of Njemps are by extraction Masai but' 
 
^t 37-] ^o Retreat. 357 
 
 having lost their cattle in a war with a tribe of the latter, 
 they have become tamed, and have settled down to agricul- 
 ture. They are a simple-minded and inoffensive people, 
 and extremely trustworthy, so that their villages offer a 
 delightful resting-place to the traveller weary of the violence 
 and importunity of the Masai hordes through which he has 
 struggled thitherward. 
 
 On Sept. 22nd they left the beehive huts of Njemps, 
 and set their faces towards Kavirondo. The men were all 
 well laden with the food which they had purchased for their 
 journey into the almost unknown country which they were 
 now entering. Mr. Thomson's men did their utmost to 
 dissuade him from penetrating further into this perilous 
 region ; but then they had the large caravan of the Swahili 
 traders to fall back upon. Bishop Hannington's porters well 
 knew that for them there was no retreat. Between them 
 and home lay the dreadful Masai. Their only hope of safety 
 now lay in pushing on to the Nyanza. There were, there- 
 fore, no protesting voices, but all braced themselves up to 
 meet whatever dangers the next fortnight might have in 
 store for them. 
 
 They crossed the river Guaso Tigirish, scrambled over 
 the rocky terrace that divides it from the Guaso Kamnye, 
 and made for Kamasia. That evening they rested at Mr. 
 Thomson's halting-place of Mkuyu-ni. 
 
 On Sept. 23rd they started at daybreak, and climbed 
 along the steep and thorn-impeded track to the summit of 
 the mountain pass of Kamasia. 
 
 On the 26th they passed through Kapte, and the hills of 
 Elgeyo lay before them, seeming to stretch in one long line 
 of stupendous precipices from north to south. They camped 
 at the foot of the Elgeyo escarpment, and spent the Sunday 
 there. The Bishop writes : " Hongo rather hotly demanded 
 by a fresh party, stirred up by Wa-Kwafi. I resisted a long 
 time, but, for the sake of a quiet day,* gave way." 
 
 * " As a sign how lired one can be, on Friday last, when going- 
 to bed, I took a bite from a biscuit and fell asleep with the first 
 mouthful still in my mouth, and the rest in my hand." 
 
 Bishop's Diary. 
 
358 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 On Monday, the 28th, the Bishop and his party ascended 
 the precipitous lava cap of the f^lgeyo escarpment. They 
 seem to have hit upon an easier point of ascent than that 
 which gave so much trouble to Mr. Thomson,* for the 
 Bishop's pocket-book has this sole reference to the event, 
 " Climbed to the top without difficulty " ; and Mr. Jones 
 does not in any way expatiate upon any special peril or 
 labour incurred in surmounting the obstacle. He does, how- 
 ever, allude to the fact that the night spent upon the height 
 above was extremely cold, as indeed would necessarily be the 
 case at that great elevation. 
 
 The following day was spent in crossing a wide, tree- 
 less plain, the Rangata Nyuki, or Red Plain of Guas' 
 Ngishu, a kind of inlet of Masai Land, which runs up 
 between the steep mountain ranges of Elgeyo on the east 
 and the Surongai Hills on the west. The river Kiborum, 
 which bounds the plain on the west, is neck deep and 
 rapid, and gave them some trouble to cross it. Next day 
 a man was missed. Searchers were sent and found him 
 a short distance in the rear, dead, and already half eaten by 
 hyanas. 
 
 The Bishop notes that he saw one of those beautiful and 
 rare monkeys, the Colobus guereza. He had met with it 
 before only on the forest-clad sides of Kilima-njaro. It is 
 specialized by a stripe of long white hair running along the 
 sides and meeting at the tail, which is also white and bushy. 
 Its skin is much affected by the warriors of Moschi. 
 
 When they reached the summit of the range of hills 
 above the river, their journey seemed almost finished. Kavi- 
 rondo lay stretched beneath their feet.f 
 
 The village of Kabaras was reached at nine o'clock on 
 the morning of the 4th. The simple-minded people had 
 
 * Througli Masai Land, p. 465. 
 
 t Hannington writes, with unconscious prophetic meaning : 
 "There lay Kavirondo before us — 
 
 '"As when the weary traveller gains 
 The height of some o'erlooking hill, 
 His heart revives if 'cross the plains 
 He sees the goal, though distant still."' 
 
^t. 37.] Tlie Bishop Starts Alone for the Lake. 359 
 
 apparently exhausted their curiosity and fear at the sight of 
 a white man over Mr. Thomson, for they greeted the Bishop 
 in a frank and friendly manner, and supplied him cheaply 
 with what provisions he was willing to buy. 
 
 The country of Kavirondo, through which they were 
 passing, is thickly inhabited. Villages are to be seen every- 
 where dotting the grassy plain. The inhabitants are the 
 nakedest in the whole of Africa. Strangely enough, they 
 are also the most moral. Both Mr_. Thomson and Mr. 
 Jones make special allusion to these facts. The chief, 
 Sakwa, received the Bishop and his present most graciously, 
 and sent him on his way towards Kwa Sundu in peace. 
 
 Kwa Sundu is only two hours distant from Kwa Sakwa. 
 The people were a little shy at first, as the whole country 
 had suffered terribly from the wretched Swahili slave 
 hunters, who had carried fire and sword among the villages 
 not long before. When, however, they found that the Bishop 
 had no connection with such they were at once friendly, and 
 admitted the caravan into their pleasant village, upon a tree- 
 clothed hill-top near the rapid flowing river Nzoia. 
 
 Bishop Hannington writes : " Naturally the natives 
 seem good-natured and polite to strangers, and are by no 
 means importunate. Oh that we might possess fair Kavi- 
 rondo for Christ ! ■" 
 
 A halt was made at Kwa Sundu until the nth. We 
 may gather what followed from Mr. Jones' diary : — 
 
 "Soon after arriving, the Bishop decided that he would 
 proceed to the Lake alone, and leave me behind in charge of 
 the caravan. Accordingly he began to pack those things 
 which he thought to be most necessary for himself and the 
 50 men whom he chose from the 200 porters to accompany 
 him. He said that he would try to cross the Lake after 
 reaching Lussala (Massala of Mr. Thomson), and go to 
 U-Ganda. At Rubaga he would ascertain if any of the 
 brethren wished to return to the coast, in which case they 
 ' might take the new route by Kavirondo. They would then 
 be able to take the caravan back with them. The Bishop 
 himself intended, when he returned, to do so by the old 
 
360 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885- 
 
 Unyamwezi route, and visit the churches which were 
 established to the south of the Lake. 
 
 '■'■Oct. 12th. — To-day the Bishop left me. He was not 
 at all well. An abscess had formed in his leg which gave 
 him considerable pain. He would not, however, listen to 
 my entreaties that he should wait until his leg was healed^ 
 but started with his fifty picked men. They were all loaded 
 lightly, in order that they might be able to carry him should 
 it prove that he was unable to walk. 
 
 " Oct. I2,th. — To-day some natives arrived from Sindi and 
 reported that the Bishop and his caravan had passed that 
 place all well. Sindi lies due North-west, and is about 
 fifteen or twenty miles distant. 
 
 " Oct. lotli. — No news of the Bishop. The guide who 
 went with him has returned, but brings no message. Pro- 
 bably the man has run away from the Bishop's camp. I 
 am daily looking for a messenger with a line from the Lake. 
 
 " Oct. 227id. — To-day a man reported to me that one of 
 the Bishop's porters is at Sindi. Who he may be I cannot 
 tell. Very likely he was left behind through sickness. No 
 letters from the Bishop, though to-day is the twelfth since 
 he left us for the Lake. I pray that all may be well with him. 
 
 " Oct. 2^tk. — No letters from the Bishop. I have only 
 152 men with me. With these, if the Bishop does not 
 come this way, I shall have to return by the same way that 
 we came. Wherever we passed our caravan was laughed at^ 
 owing to our small numbers. What will they say when 
 they see us still less in returning? 
 
 " Oct. 2%tli. — No news from the Bishop. It is becoming 
 a matter of great anxiety. 
 
 '■'■Oct. -^oth. — Still no news. Last night Arthur reported 
 that one had told him that the Bishop had been attacked by 
 a neighbouring tribe, but of his safety nothing is said. It is 
 now nineteen days since he left us. The tribe that is said 
 to have attacked the Bishop is only four days distant, and 
 we should have heard of any disaster long before this. I 
 therefore regard this report as utterly false. 
 
 '■'■Nov. yd. — All is silent. 
 
 " Nov. y///.— Not an air of news 1 I am very anxious. 
 
^t. 38.] Rumours of Disaster. 361 
 
 To-day it is twenty-seven days since the Bishop left, and 
 not a line has he sent. Every nom and then I hear from 
 people coming from Tunga's quarters that the party has 
 passed that place, but no more, \t.viay be that the party 
 have reached the Lake, and that, owing to the Bishop's bad 
 leg, everything is brought to a state of stagnation. 
 
 " Nov. S:t/i, Sunday. — After service, and just as I had 
 finished writing in my journal, precisely at 12 noon, Bedue, 
 one of the men, came to me sighing and breathing hard. 
 ' What's the matter ? ' I said to him, rising. ' Two men have 
 come to me,' Bedue continued, 'with the report that the 
 Bishop and his party have been killed I ' ' Where are they i' ' 
 I demanded ; ' bring them to me at once that I may learn the 
 truth of their story.' Bedue flew away, but somehow the 
 two men came to me before he returned. They said that 
 they had been a long distance in search of a doctor for their 
 chief, who is now ill ; on their road they picked up three of 
 our men who had managed to escape when the Bishop and 
 his men were being killed. ' Where are the three men ? ' I 
 asked, though I could scarcely speak for nervousness, and 
 my whole body shook fearfully. The men replied that they 
 were at Sindi's. 'Why have you not brought them?' I 
 said ; ' then I might have given you a handsome present. 
 You have only got the news of the Bishop's death, but no 
 eye-witness who saw him die, or who has seen his dead 
 body.' They then asked me to give them wire and beads, 
 and said they would go and fetch the men. I hoped even 
 then that these men might be playing me a trick, so I 
 refused to give them anything, and said that I would make 
 arrangements about any men who might be at Sindi's. 
 
 "I immediately sent to the chief and asked for men to go 
 to Sindi's village. Before the chief could return an answer, 
 one of the men from Sindi's appeared. Now we could no 
 longer regard the report as false, or how should he have 
 come entirely stripped of everything ? The man came in 
 and sat down. ' Now,' said I, ' Senenge, where have you 
 come from? and where is the Bishop?' (I asked these 
 questions with trembling lips — the Bishop dead ! — ). Senenge 
 said that the Bishop and his party reached this side of 
 
3^3 Jatnes Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 U-Ganda safely. He wanted to go on, but the people 
 prevented him until they had sent a message to their chief. 
 The Bishop refused to be kept long waiting ; however, he 
 was compelled to yield,_ and wrote a letter which he desired 
 them to send to the missionaries in U-Ganda. On the 
 eighth day the reply was brought that the chief had sent 
 word that the European should proceed to see Mtesa.* 
 Early on the ninth day the Bishop and his party were tied 
 and confined in different places. Towards 5 p.m., first the 
 Bishop and then the men, one by one, were killed at some 
 distance from the village ! 
 
 " Before he had finished this tale, the two remaining men 
 arrived from Sindi's. One of them had been speared in the 
 right arm. They give the same report as to the Bishop and 
 Pinto being killed, but different accounts as to how he was 
 killed. Senenge says he saw none of the men killed. The 
 other two say that thirteen men were killed and the rest 
 taken for slaves. That before they were led to be killed 
 they were stripped of their guns, tied together in threes, and 
 made to sit in one place. The Bishop, they all say, was 
 confined by himself in a place where the other men 
 could not see him. All the goods were taken to the 
 house of the chief Rua. The place of the murder they 
 say is three days from U-Ganda. They say that October 
 31st is the day on which the Bishop died.f Senenge says 
 the Bishop was speared and Pinto shot. The other two, 
 that the Bishop was shot with two guns, Pinto with one." 
 
 '• After hearing all this dreadful report of the dear 
 Bishop, 1 cross-examined the men as to how they managed 
 to escape. To this I could get no satisfactory reply. As we 
 were surrounded by eager natives all listening, I gave it out 
 that this report was not true, and that these three men had 
 wickedly deserted the Bishop, and instructed all my people to 
 represent the report as untrue to the people of the village." 
 " Can it be true that the Bishop is killed ? " 
 
 * Probably Mr. Jones meant Mwanga, for he knew of Mtesa's 
 death, but wrote " Mtfesa '' from long habit, as his name has 
 always been associated with the U-Ganda Mission. 
 
 t It is now almost certain that the 29th was the day of his death. 
 
CHAPTER XXIII. 
 
 HOW IT CAME TO PASS. 
 
 '"And do you think that a spirit, full of lofty thoughts, and 
 privileged to contemplate all time and all existence, can possibly 
 attach any great importance to this life ? ' 
 
 " ' No ; it is impossible.' 
 
 " ' Then such a person will not regard death as a formidable 
 thing, will he ?' 
 
 " ' Certainly not.' " Plato : Repiib. 
 
 'E|Uoi 7cEp rb ^tJi/, Xpiurbj, *cii ri airo0ai'€(i', KepSos. — Phil. 1. 21. 
 
 We must now transfer our thoughts to the capital of 
 U-Ganda, and inquire how matters had been going on 
 there since Bishop Hannington's visit to the Lake in 1882. 
 We shall in this manner be able to understand how it came 
 to pass that the Bishop, after that the journey which he had 
 so daringly and skilfully undertaken had been brought to a 
 triumphant conclusion, and when he had the best reason for 
 believing that all danger was over, was seized and put to 
 death by the very men whom he regarded as his friends. 
 
 I very heartily wish that space permitted me to give a 
 detailed and full account of this, the most interesting of 
 modern Missions, and fullest of the romance of real life. 
 Chiefly for the sake of those who have not read Mr. Mac- 
 kay's journal-letters, which have been published from time to 
 time in the C. M. Intelligencer. It is not likely that those 
 who have followed the varying fortunes of the Mission as nar- 
 rated in his graphic and thrilling letters will require me to add 
 anything to their knowledge. Perhaps, however, they will 
 pardon me if, for the sake of the less accurately informed, I 
 attempt to trace out, as briefly as may be, the sequence of 
 events which led to so great a disaster, and to the loss of a 
 noble man over whom the Church Universal has mourned. 
 
364 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 On the 1 0th of October, 1884, about a month before 
 the Bishop sailed from England, an event occurred which 
 most seriously affected all Church work in Central Africa, 
 and to which may be attributed the disaster of October 29th, 
 1885. Mtesa, icing of U-Ganda, died, and was succeeded 
 by his son, Mwanga. This Mwanga is a mere boy, pos- 
 sessing none of his father's strength of character, and has 
 proved to be almost wholly under the influence of his Kati- 
 kiro (vizier) and council of chiefs. 
 
 Christianity had been making great strides in U-Ganda ;* 
 and that in spite of the perplexing divisions caused by the 
 French priests of the Roman Church, the bitter opposition 
 of the Arabs, and the scarcely disguised disfavour of the 
 chiefs. Mtesa was a man of a marvellously large heart — 
 for an African potentate — and he was inclined to let all 
 parties have a fair field and no favour. Our Churchmen 
 were not slow to make hay while the sun was shining. They 
 set up their printing-press, and distributed everywhere por- 
 tions of the New Testament, hymns, prayers, etc., in Lu- 
 ganda. It soon became fashionable to learn to read. The 
 store-houses and offices of the Court were literally converted 
 into reading-rooms. Lads might be seen everywhere, sitting 
 in groups, or sprawling on the hay-covered floor, all reading — 
 some the Book of Commandments, some the Church prayers, 
 others the Kiswahili New Testament. Nor were these 
 books and papers given to them for nothing. They were 
 both ready and eager to buy whatever literature they could 
 get. 
 
 On March 1 8th, 1882, the first five converts were 
 baptized, and in the year following several more. At the 
 end of 1884 the native Church consisted of eighty-eight 
 members. Among these was no less a personage than one 
 of Mtesa's own daughters, " Rebecca " Mugali. This the 
 king had not bargained for, and for some time the little 
 Church was in real danger. But, after a while, Mtesa's 
 natural breadth of mind led him to accept the logical 
 conclusion of his tolerance, and things went on as 
 
 * Compare pages i68-g. 
 
^t. 38.] History of the Church in U-Ganda. 365 
 
 before. Then occurred his death. What immediately fol- 
 lowed is a very remarkable testimony to the hold which 
 Christianity had, even in this brief time, acquired over the 
 minds of the people. The Invariable custom hitherto had 
 been to indulge in mutual and indiscriminate pillage, rapine, 
 and murder during the brief interregnum, and until the new 
 king was installed. The heads of the Mission were warned 
 by several of the converts, who hastened to announce the 
 king's death, and bid them fortify themselves and prepare 
 for the worst. After united prayer and consultation, they 
 resolved to await events, without resisting any officially 
 authorized attempt to pillage them. To their wondering 
 thankfulness, the expected carnival of blood was "honoured 
 in the breach." It was made known that the young king 
 had spared the princes his brothers, whom custom would 
 have permitted him to exterminate, and that there was to be 
 no slaughter. Such a thing had never been known before, 
 and a bright prospect of a good time coming seemed to open 
 out before the Mission. But then came a time of trouble. 
 Mwanga, immensely puffed up by his elevation, and indulg- 
 ing himself in all possible vanities and vices, proved to be 
 of a feeble and vacillating character ; passionate and vin- 
 dictive, timid and suspicious, he soon became a tool in the 
 hands of his designing courtiers. The chiefs, intensely 
 conservative of all customary abuses by which they main- 
 tained their special privileges and victimized the people, 
 were alarmed at the progress which enlightened Christian 
 views were making. They did not find it very difficult 
 to arouse Mwanga's suspicions and work upon his fears. 
 
 Unhappily, a pretext was soon forthcoming for an attack 
 upon the Church. Mr. Mackay had been permitted to sail 
 in the Mission boat Eleanor to Msalala, at the south end ot 
 the Nyanza, to meet three of his companions who were 
 reported to be upon their way to U-Ganda. They had not, 
 however, penetrated so far, as their services were required 
 at the various Mission Stations along the road. When Mr. 
 Mackay returned without them, it was at once suggested by 
 the unfriendly chiefs that he had never intended to bring 
 them back, but had used the opportunity of leave of absence 
 
366 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 to communicate with the king's enemies. (The most 
 puerile reports are enough to set an African kingdom in a 
 blaze.) Some sort of colour was given to this story by a 
 rumour of white men in U-Soga, at the north-east corner of 
 the Lake. This was Mr. Thomson's party, which pene- 
 trated to Upper Kavirondo in 1883 — 84. The chiefs of 
 U-Ganda have always looked upon an approach to their 
 country from the north or north-east with extreme suspicion 
 and dislike. They regard the Lake as a natural barrier 
 against invasion from the south ; they do not as yet enter- 
 tain any great fear of danger from the west, though the 
 new Congo State may probably before long excite their 
 alarm ; but they are very nervous about any advance of 
 another nation from the east or north. When Egypt was 
 enlarging her borders southward they were in a state of 
 panic. A single white man is looked upon as a host in him- 
 self, and as such to be -most rigorously excluded if he should 
 make his appearance from the two forbidden quarters. Even 
 Mtesa used sometimes to twit the white men at Rubaga,* 
 asking them if they would like to see the country behind 
 U-Soga, and assuring them that they should not. Mr. 
 Thomson escaped even more narrowly than he at the time 
 realized. Perhaps he owes his safe return to the fact that 
 he reached the borders of U-Ganda about the time of 
 Mtesa's death. At all events, it is certain that the chief 
 who was responsible for letting him go, and omitting to bind 
 and bring him before the king, has since been charged with 
 the offence and degraded from his office. 
 
 Such being the state of feelings in Mtesa's time, it was 
 not hard for the chiefs to instil all kinds of vague fears into 
 the feeble-minded Mwanga. Mr. Mackay was charged with 
 sending his friends to U-Soga, there to collect an army, while 
 he stole away the hearts of the people in U-Ganda from 
 their king. Mwanga was enraged to find that all his pages 
 
 * Mwanga has removed his capital, and built his " palace ' at a 
 place called Mengo, a mile and a half S.E. of Rubaga, which is 
 now a baj-e, uninhabited hill. The C. M. S. Mission Station is at 
 Natete, a mile and a half N.W. from Rubaga. 
 
^t. 38.] The Boy-Martyrs. 367 
 
 with the exception of two or three, were pupils of the 
 Missionaries ; he complained to them that they had ceased 
 to respect his majesty, that they counted Jesus as their king, 
 and himself not much better than a brother ! Matters soon 
 reached a crisis. Mr. Mackay had obtained permission again 
 to cross the Lake, and was proceedmg with some of the 
 Mission boys to the port, when he was forcibly arrested by 
 order of the Katikiro. The instrument employed was one 
 Mujasi, captain of the body guard, who had once been sent 
 on an embassy to General Gordon at Khartoum, and not 
 meeting from that great Governor the distinguished con- 
 sideration which he thought that his own highness merited, 
 had returned with a perfect hatred of all white men, and a 
 deep seated loathing for their religion. He was rejoiced at 
 this opportunity of showing his contempt for the Christian 
 teachers, and used them with the utmost rudeness, dragging 
 them forcibly before the Katikiro. They only averted the 
 utter destruction of the Mission premises by a timely present 
 to the authorities. Their boys, however, had been seized 
 upon the pretext that as Christians they were joining with 
 the white men against the king. They made the utmost 
 eiForts to obtain their release, but all to no purpose. Three 
 of the younger were at last returned to them, but the other 
 three were shamefully tormented and done to death. The 
 lads who escaped described the scene to their teachers. But 
 Mr. Mackay must himself narrate the terrible facts : ".They 
 were taken, with Kakumba and Mr. Ashe's boy, and also 
 Serwanga, a tall, fine fellow who had been baptized. These 
 three were then tortured, their arms were cut off, and they 
 were bound alive to a scaffolding, under which a fire was 
 made, and so they were slowly burned to death." As they 
 hung in their protracted agony over the flames, Mujasi and 
 his men stood around jeering, and told them to pray nozo to 
 Isa Masiya (Jesus Christ) if they thought that He could do 
 anything to help them. The spirit of the martyrs at once 
 entered into these lads, and together they raised their 
 voices and praised Jesus in the fire, singing till their 
 shrivelled tongues refused to form the sound, Killa sikii 
 tunsifu : — 
 
368 James Hannington. [A-D. i^^S- 
 
 " Daily, daily, sing to Jesus, 
 
 Sing, my soul, His praises due ; 
 All He does deserves our praises, 
 
 And our deep devotion too. 
 For in deep humiliation 
 
 He for us did live below ; 
 Died on Calvary's cross of torture ; 
 
 Rose to save our souls from woe." * 
 
 Little wonder that Mr. Mackay should write : " Our 
 hearts are breaking^ Yet what a triumph ! One of the 
 executioners, struck by the extraordinary fortitude of the 
 lads, and their evident faith in another life, came and asked 
 that he also might be taught to pray. This martyrdom did 
 not daunt the other Christians. Though Mwanga threatened 
 to burn alive any who frequented the Mission premises, or 
 adopted the Christian faith, they continued to come, and 
 the lads at the Court kept their teachers constantly informed 
 of everything that was going on. Indeed, when the Kati- 
 kiro began to make investigation, he found the place so 
 honey-combed by Christianity f that he had to cease his 
 inquisition for fear of implicating chiefs and upsetting 
 society generally. One man, named Nua, who had gone 
 to the Court to confess himself a Christian and take the 
 consequences, was sent home in peace, and his accuser, 
 Mujasi, rebuffed. This discovery did not, however, as one 
 may suppose, incline the chiefs to look with any greater 
 favour upon the new religion. 
 
 Such was the state of affairs in U-Ganda in the spring 
 
 * One of the hymns translated into the musical language of 
 U-Ganda The book of hymns and prayers has upon its title- 
 page the happily-conceived monogram 
 
 M 
 A 
 I S A 
 I 
 Y 
 A 
 i In July, 1885, a large church had been built, which was over- 
 crowded. The daily school was so largely attended that it was 
 impossible to teach properly all who came. Mr. O'Flaherty writes 
 that on July 26th no less than 35 persons openly commwticated. 
 
^t. 38.] Dangers Thicken. 369 
 
 of 1885, when the Bishop was contemplating his journey 
 thither through Masai Land. 
 
 He was quite ignorant of the strength of the prejudice 
 which existed there against permitting an entrance into the 
 country through U-Soga. It is evident that Sir John Kirk 
 and all in Zanzibar, as well as the Missionaries at Frere 
 Town, were also in ignorance of this. They were all 
 apparently unanimous in their recommendation that the new 
 route should be tried, and if the country of the Masai were 
 sately passed, they did not see any reason to doubt that 
 the Bishop would be received in a friendly manner into 
 U-Ganda. 
 
 Yet all this time the danger was increasing., until, had 
 the Bishop known it, he might as safely have walked into 
 a den of lions as have ventured into U-Soga. We have 
 mentioned the effect produced by Mr. Thomson's expedition, 
 and the manner in which Englishmen in U-Ganda suffered 
 in consequence ; but to the general vague fear of invasion 
 by white men was now added the definite report of the 
 high-handed proceedings of Germany at Zanzibar.* Mt^sa, 
 when he was pressed by his chiefs to take measures against 
 the Europeans, who, they averred, were only waiting until 
 they had sufficient forces at their command to declare 
 hostilities, and eat up his country, would wisely reply : "If 
 they intended to take the country, they would not begin 
 with the interior. I shall wait until I see them commence 
 upon the coast." Well, 7iow, apparently, the dreaded 
 Bazungu had begun to "eat up " the coast. "Alarm was 
 at its height," writes Mr. Mackay ; " the Court counselled 
 killing all the Missionaries, as we were only the forerunners 
 of invasion." Mr. Mackay did all in his power to convince 
 the king and his chiefs that Englishmen were a different 
 race from the Germans, and taking a large school map, 
 pointed out to them the various divisions of Bulaya (Europe). 
 His arguments were to little purpose. To the tribes of 
 Central Africa all white men seem to be of one race ; all 
 are called Bazungu (Europeans). 
 
 * Germany had demanded from Seyyid Barghash the port of 
 Bogamoyo — and threatened to take it if he would not sell. 
 
 24 
 
370 James Hannington. [A.D. 1883. 
 
 When information reached the Mission party that their 
 Bishop was about to visit them, and had determined to 
 enter by U-Soga, they were naturally alarmed. They took 
 counsel together, and decided to tell the king, and explain 
 to him the object of the Bishop's visit before a garbled 
 account should reach his ears. This they did in Septem- 
 ber. They mentioned that their Superior and chief of their 
 Church was coming that way probably to avoid the Ger- 
 mans, and did all that was possible to remove from the 
 king's mind the suspicion that they had any connection 
 with the Germans themselves. 
 
 The next morning, the king summoned a council of his 
 chiefs. After some consultation they unanimously came to 
 the conclusion that white men were all of the same race. 
 That the white teachers were only the forerunners of war ; 
 and that they were waiting for their head-man to arrive, 
 when they would commence at once to eat up the country. 
 One proposed to go out and fight the Bishop. Another 
 thought that all the white men in U-Ganda should be first 
 killed, and so the evil stamped out with one blow. Another 
 remarked that though it had been said that to kill, a white 
 man would bring disaster upon the land, yet that several 
 had been killed with impunity, and nothing had happened. 
 All were agreed that the Bishop should not be allowed to 
 enter the country, especially as he was coming by the " back 
 door" through Busoga.* It was finally decided that the 
 Bishop's party should be conducted round to the south of 
 the Lake, toMsalala, and there await the pleasure of the king. 
 
 In the meantime, Mr. Ashe, with Mr. O'Flaherty and 
 Mr. Mackay, were not idle. They realized the peril in which 
 their Bishop would stand, and constantly sought interviews 
 with Mwanga to induce him to allow them to meet him and 
 conduct him themselves to the capital. It was terrible to 
 think that their friend was rapidly advancing into the snare 
 and that they were utterly helpless to give him warning. 
 
 On Oct. 25th, one of the Court pages came to the 
 Mission house with the news that a tall Englishman had 
 
 » In U-Gandi the prefix B is added. Thus, U-Ganda, Wa^ 
 Ganda, U-Soga, etc., become Burganda, Ba-ganda, Busoo-a. ' 
 
^t. 38.] The Deed AccomplisJted. 371 
 
 arrived in Busoga, and further stated that it was said he had 
 lost a thumb.* There could be no doubt who this might 
 be. The Icing held a council, and it was decided that the 
 stranger should be put to death. Mwanga was at first unwill- 
 ing, and suggested that the white man should simply be 
 turned back. To this the Katikiro replied, " Will you let their 
 goods go also ? " So, for the sake of the plunder, the order 
 went forth. Soon one of the pages whispered to his teacher 
 that the white men had been all put in the stocks ; and, as Mr. 
 Ashe and Mr. Mackay hastened to the palace to seek Mwanga, 
 a lad whispered, as they entered the enclosure, "Men have 
 already been sent to kill the white men." The king refused 
 to see them, and they were assured that their white friends 
 would be quite safe and would merely be escorted out of the 
 country. t Sorrowfully they departed, knowing that they 
 were being deceived, since they had obtained reliable 
 information through one of their young friends the pages 
 that orders had been given "to kill the white man and his 
 whole party, letting none escape, and to count their goods." 
 
 * It was at first reported that there were tiiio white men. 
 
 t The following extract from a letter written by Pere Lourdel, 
 the Superior of the Jesuit Mission, refers to this : " Quelques jours 
 apres, nous apprenons que des blancs viennent par la route de 
 Busoga. Les missionaires anglais, qui savaient que le Wane 
 signale etait M. Hannington, vont, mais inutilement, interceder 
 aupres du roi pour qu'il revienne sur la sentence ; mais ils ne 
 purent, pendant deux jours qu ils attendirent \ la cour, obtenir 
 une minute d'audience. Ils eurent alors recours k moi et me 
 priferent d'aller intercdder en leur faveur pour la vie de leur dveque. 
 Comme alors le roi me recevait facilement, je me rendis k leurs 
 priferes, et, Si force d'instances, j'obtins de Mwanga qu'il ne ferait 
 pas p^rir les blancs, mais le chasserait simplement en leur envoy- 
 ant I'ordre de retourner sur leur pas. Mais la promesse du roi 
 ^tait-elle fausse, ou I'ordre (ftait-il d(fja exifcutd .' Le fait est que 
 nous apprenions, quelques jours apr^s, que le meurtre i^tait con- 
 comme. Le blanc venait d'etre massacrd avec la plus grande 
 partie de son escorle, une quarantaine d'hommes environ." 
 
 Also with regard to Mwanga's state of mind : 
 
 " Le pauvre Mwanga ajoutait, le matin rncme de cette seance. 
 
 C'est moi ciui suis le dernier roi de Buganda ; les blancs s'em- 
 
 pareront de mon pays apres ma mort. De mon vivant, je saurai 
 
 bien les en empecher. Mais, apres moi, se terminera la liste 
 
 des rois n^gres du Buganda.' '' 
 
372 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 We have not space here even to summarize vi'hat Mr. 
 Mackay has written since that terrible 29th day of October, 
 with regard to his own position and that of his brethren in 
 U-Ganda. It must suffice to say that they have been in daily 
 peril of their lives, and the only fact which has apparently 
 stood between them and death on several occasions has been 
 that Mwanga imagines that they do not know the fate which 
 has befallen their Bishop. The Christians have been very 
 faithful and devoted, and though the persecution has broken 
 out afresh, and as many as thirtj-tzvo converts have been 
 heaped together and burned alive in one great funeral pyre, 
 conversions do not stop, and brave souls still confess Christ, 
 seeking baptism at the risk of death in its most awful form. 
 How this will end, God alone knows. In His keeping 
 this band of Christian heroes may be left with confidence. 
 
 We must return to the Bishop. The accounts of his 
 death which were given to Mr. Jones by the men who 
 escaped from the massacre, and those given to the Mission 
 party in U-Ganda by persons who professed to have been 
 eye-witnesses of the deed, are substantially in agreement. 
 
 It will be remembered that Mr. Jones states that the 
 Bishop was suffering from an inflamed leg, which had con- 
 fined him " to the outside of his bed " for nearly a week. 
 He, nevertheless, made every preparation for an immediate 
 start with his fifty men for the Lake. His own journal, so 
 happily and so unexpectedly recovered, supplies us with 
 full and accurate information as to all that happened from 
 the moment when he left Kwa-Sundu to within, probably, 
 a few hours, or even minutes of his death. He writes : — 
 
 " Oct I2t/i, Monday. — Nine hours, eighteen miles. At 
 daylight, and almost before, I made a dash at my boot, and 
 with fear and trembling, laced it up, and put foot to the 
 ground. I stood, I walked, ana without great pain, so I 
 
 organized a start Arrived at Mtindi's at 5 p.m. 
 
 tired, but none the worse Immense Masai town 
 
 close at hand." 
 
 During the next week the Bishop walked about a 
 hundred and seventy miles. On the second day he writes : 
 
^t. 38.] Tlie Bishop's Last Journal. 373 
 
 "Climbing a hill, the Lake burst suddenly upon us, long 
 before I expected it, for hills which we saw miles away 
 proved to be islands. We found ourselves to the west of the 
 deep Sio bay." The country was densely populated, and 
 the people, on the whole, friendly, but inclined to hinder 
 the rapid march westward of the impatient European. 
 Each petty chief of a district endeavoured to compel him 
 to halt and remain for a day or two. The Bishop, how- 
 ever, pushed resolutely on, and refused to be detained. It 
 was terribly anxious work, as he was perpetually surrounded 
 by a crowd of obstructives, who seemed to be ever on the 
 point of resorting to violence. His men were terrified, but he, 
 generally with a well-assumed smile, or seeming-hearty laugh, 
 sometimes with a demonstration of fist or stick, shouldered 
 his way onward to the Nile. On Oct 17th he found him- 
 self unexpectedly on the shore of the Lake, and writes : — 
 
 " I found an enormous market in full swing, and canoes 
 from the islands, but none of my inquiries satisfied me as 
 to where we were, though I have strong suspicions that we 
 have only reached a deep inlet opposite (Uvuma Island ?). 
 . . . We are in the midst of awful swamps, and mosquitos 
 as savage as bees ; the Lord keep me from fever ! " 
 
 " Oct. \2ith, Sunday. — I can hear nothing about the 
 Nile. Nobody has heard of a river running north, nor of 
 
 the Ripon Falls I passed a very restful and 
 
 pleasant day, although it was difficult not to fidget myself 
 nervous about the swamps and bad water. The nearer I 
 get the more anxious I seem, wrongly, to be about arriving, 
 though I am sure I ought not to be so, since God has been 
 so very gracious to me, and has thus far led me by the hand. 
 
 " Oct i()th, Monday. — Presently we came 
 
 upon symptoms of war, and finally we fell in with a Wa- 
 Ganda mob sent to subdue U-Soga. Their excitement 
 at seeing me was intense. Many of them knew Mackay. 
 Most of their leaders were drunk, and in a most dangerous 
 mood, coming round me, shouting and yelling, and ordering 
 ■me about. Whereupon I took the high hand, and in spite 
 of overwhelming numbers, I refused to stop, shook my fist 
 
374 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 in the faces of the most noisy, gathered my scattered men, 
 and pushed through the mob All the neighbour- 
 hood is decimated by war ; hundreds of fine banana trees 
 cut down, and huge bunches lying about rotting. We 
 camped between the two war-parties. I could hear them 
 both, and was in a very dangerous situation, as it was 
 dark, and my men such fools that they would not keep 
 still. 
 
 " Oct. 20th. — Through the mercy of God — and every 
 step of the way is through His mercy — nothing happened 
 during the night, but I fear we have arrived in a trouble- 
 some country We have, however, made fine 
 
 progress to-day, and almost all in the right direction that 
 should bring us to the Nile, near about the Ripon Falls ; 
 and I don't think I am much out of my reckoning. Here, 
 at least, we seem to have peace for a night. 
 
 " Oct. list, Wednesday. — About half an hour brought 
 us to Lubwa's. His first demand, in a most insolent tone, 
 was for ten guns and three barrels of powder ; this, of 
 course, I refused. They then demanded that I should stay 
 three days ; this I refused, and when the same demands 
 were made, I jumped up and said, 'I go back the way I 
 came.' Meantime the war drums beat. More than a 
 thousand soldiers were assembled. My men implored me 
 not to move, but, laughing at them, I pushed them and 
 the loads through the crowd and turned back. Then came 
 an imploring message that I would stay but for a short 
 time. I refused to hear till several messages had arrived ; 
 then, thinking things were turning my way, I consented ; 
 said I would give a small present and pass. My present 
 was returned, and a demand made that I would stay one 
 day ; to this I consented, because I fancy this man can 
 send me on in canoes direct to Mwanga's capital, and 
 save a week's march. Presently seven guns were stolen 
 from us ; at this I pretended to rejoice exceedingly, since 
 I should demand restoration not from these men, but from 
 Mwanga. A soldier was placed to guard me in my tent, 
 and follow me if I moved an inch. I climbed a neigh- 
 bouring hill, and to my joy, saw a splendid view of the 
 
^t. 38.] The Bishop Seized. 375 
 
 Nile, only about half an hour's distance,* country being 
 beautiful ; deep creeks of the Lake visible to the south. I 
 presently asked leave to go to the Nile. This was denied 
 me. I afterwards asked my headman, Brahim, to come 
 with me to the point close at hand whence I had seen the 
 Nile, as our men had begun to doubt its existence ; several 
 followed up, and one, pretending to show me another view, 
 led me further away, when suddenly about twenty ruffians 
 set upon us. They violently threw me to the ground, and 
 proceeded to strip me of all valuables. Thinking they were 
 robbers, I shouted for help, when they forced me up and 
 hurried me away, as I thought, to throw me down a preci- 
 pice close at hand. I shouted again, in spite of one 
 threatening to kill me with a club. Twice I nearly broke 
 away from them, and then grew faint with struggling, and 
 was dragged by the legs over the ground. I said, ' Lord, I 
 put myself in Thy hands, I look to Thee alone.' Then 
 another struggle, and I got to my feet, and was thus dashed 
 along. More than once I was violently brought into con- 
 tact with banana trees, some trying in their haste to force 
 me one way, others the other, and the exertion and strug- 
 gling strained me in the most agonizing maimer. In spite 
 of all, and feeling I was being dragged away to be murdered 
 at a distance, I sang ' Safe in the arms of Jesus,' and then 
 laughed at the very agony of my situation. My clothes 
 torn to pieces so that 1 was exposed ; wet through with 
 being dragged along the ground ; strained in every limb, 
 and for a whole hour expecting instant death, hurried along, 
 dragged, pushed, at about five miles an hour, until we came 
 to a hut, into the court of which I was forced. Now, I 
 thought, I am to be murdered. As they released one hand, 
 1 drew my finger across my throat, and understood them to 
 say decidedly No. We then made out that I had been 
 seized by order of the Sultan. Then arose a new agony. 
 Were all my men murdered ? Another two or three hours' 
 
 * It seems clear from the above that Bishop Hannington pene- 
 trated further than was at first supposed; in this edition, therefoie, 
 the line of his march upon the map has been prolonged almost 
 to the right bank of the Nile. 
 
376 James Hannington. [A.D. 1S85. 
 
 awful suspense, during which time I was kept bound and 
 shivering with cold, when to my joy, Pinto (the Portu- 
 guese cook) and a boy were brought with my bed and 
 bedding, and 1 learnt that the Sultan meant to keep me 
 prisoner until he had received word from A'lwanga, which 
 means, I fear, a week or more's delay, nor can I tell whether 
 they are speaking the truth. I am in God's hands." 
 
 The man who enticed the Bishop away from his 
 followers, a few of whom had accompanied him to the 
 summit of the hill, was one Masudi bin Suleiman, a rene- 
 gade Mahommedaii, who has renounced his race and creed, 
 and cast in his lot with the heathen. He is well known 
 as a violent opponent of Christianity in U-Ganda. The 
 Bishop was dragged by a circuitous route to the village ; but 
 one of the men, who happened to be wandering, was a 
 horrified witness of his master's fate. He ran to tell his 
 companions, and soon all was confusion and dismay. The 
 panic-stricken men lost all nerve, and some of their goods 
 were at once scrambled for by the natives. They were then 
 all seized and detained as prisoners. The Bishop continues : 
 
 " Oct. 22//(/, Tliursday. — I found myself, perhaps about 
 ten o'clock last night, on my bed in a fair-sized hut, but 
 with no ventilation, a fire on the hearth, no chimney for 
 smoke, about twenty men all round me, and rats and 
 \-ermin ad lib. ; fearfully shaken, strained in every limb ; 
 great pain, and consumed with thirst, I got little sleep that 
 night. Pinto may cook my food, and I have been allowed 
 to have my Bible and writing things also. I hear the men 
 are in close confinement, but safe, and the loads, except a 
 few small things, intact. Up to one o'clock I have received 
 no news whatever, and I fear at least a week in this black 
 hole, in which I can barely see to write. Floor covered 
 with rotting banana peel and leaves and lice. Men reliev- 
 ing nature at night on the floor ; a smoking fire, at which 
 my guards cook and drink pombe ; in a feverish district ; 
 fearfully shaken, scarce power to hold up small Bible. 
 Shall I live through it ? My God, I am Thine. 
 
 "Towards evening I was allowed to sit outside for a little 
 

 1 
 
 — c 
 
^t. 38.] .] Prisoner. 377 
 
 tune, and enjoyed the fresh air ; but it made matters worse 
 when I went inside my prison again, and as I fell exhausted 
 on my bed I burst into tears — health seems to be quite 
 giving way with the shock. I fear I am in a very caged- 
 lion frame of mind, and ^-et so strained and shattered that it 
 is with the utmost difficulty I can stand ; yet I ought to be 
 praising His Holy Name, and I do. 
 
 " Not allowed a knife to eat mv food with. The savages 
 who guard me keep up an unceasing strain of raillery, or at 
 least I fancy thev do, about the Mzungu. 
 
 '' Oct. 2yd, Friday. — I woke full of pain and weak, so 
 that with the utmost difficulty I .crawled outside and sat in 
 a chair, and yet they guard everv move as if 1 was a giant. 
 M\' nerves, too, have recei\ ed such a shock that, some loud 
 yells and war cries arising outside the prison fence,* I 
 expected to be murdered, and simply turned o\er and said : 
 ' Let the Lord do as He sees fit ; I shall not make the 
 slightest resistance.' Seeing how bad I am, they have sent 
 my tent for me to use in the daytime. Going outside I fell 
 to the ground exhausted, and was helped back in a gone 
 condition to my bed. I don't see how I can stand all this, 
 and vet I don't want to gi\'e in, but it almost seems as if 
 U-Ganda itself was going to be forbidden ground to me — 
 the Lord onh- knows. Afternoon. — To my surprise my 
 guards came kneeling dowii, so different to their usual treat- 
 ment, and asked me to come out. I came out, and there 
 was the chief and about a hundred of his wi\es come to 
 feast their eves on me in cruel curiosity. I felt inclined to 
 spring at his throat, but sat still, and presently read to 
 myself Matthew \. 44, 45, and felt refreshed. I asked how 
 manv more da\s he meant to keep me in prison. He said 
 four more at least. He agreed, upon m\' earnest request, 
 to allow me to sleep in my own tent, with two armed 
 soldiers at each door. The object of his \ isit was to ask 
 that I would say no bad things of him to Mwanga. What 
 
 * Since the publication of the first edition, the recovery of the 
 Bishop's sketch-book has enabled us to give a facsimile of his 
 drav.ins of the hut in \\hich he was confined. 
 
378 James Hamiington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 can I say good ? I made no answer to the twice repeated 
 request. He then said if I would write a short letter, and 
 promise to say nothing bad, he would send it at once. I 
 immediately wrote a hasty scrawl (I scarce know what), 
 but said I was prisoner, and asked Mackay to come. God 
 grant it may reach. But I already feel better than I have 
 done since my capture, though still very shattered. 
 
 " Oct. li^th., Saiardaj/.— Thank God for a pleasant 
 night in my own tent, in spite of a tremendous storm and 
 rain flowing in on the floor in streams. Personally I quite 
 forgave this old man and his agents for my rough treatment, 
 though even to-day I can only move with the greatest dis- 
 comfortj and ache as though 1 had rheumatic fever. , I have, 
 however, to consider the question in another light ; if the 
 matter is passed over unnoticed, it appears to me the safety of 
 all white travellers in these districts will be endangered, so 
 1 shall leave the brethren, who know the country and are 
 most affected, to act as they think best. The day passed 
 away very quietly. I amused myself with Bible and diary. 
 
 " Oct. 25^/2, Stinday. — (Fourth day of imprisonment.) 
 Still a great deal of pain in my limbs. The fatigue of dress- 
 ing quite knocks me over. My. guards, though at times 
 they stick to me like leeches, and, with two rifles in hand, 
 remain at night in my tent, are gradually getting very care- 
 less. I have already seen opportunities of escape had I 
 wanted so to do, and I doubt not that in a few days' time, 
 especially if I could get a little extra pombe brought to 
 them, I could walk away quite easily, but I have no such 
 intention. I should be the more inclined to stop should 
 they say go, to be a thorn in the old gentleman's side, and 
 I fear from that feeling of contrariness which is rather in- 
 born. I send him affectionate greetings and reports on mv 
 health by his messengers twice a day. What I fear most 
 now is the close confinement and utter want of exercise. 
 When I was almost beginning to think of my time in 
 prison as getting short the chief has sent men to redouble 
 the fence around me. What does it mean ? I have shown 
 no desire or intention of escaping. Has a messenger 
 arrived from Mwanga ? There is just time for him to have 
 
ALt. 38.] Sick and Shattered. 379 
 
 sent word to tell them to hold me fast. The look of this 
 has cast me down again. 
 
 " One of my guards, if I understand him rightly, is 
 making me offers of escape. He has something \'ery secret 
 to communicate, and will not c\ en take my boy into con- 
 fidence. I do not, however, want to escape under the pre- 
 sent circumstances ; but at the same time I take great 
 amusement in watching and passing by various little oppor- 
 tunities. My guards and I are great friends, almost 
 affectionate, and one speaks of me as ' My whiteman.' 
 
 " Three detachments of the chief's wives, they say he 
 has 1000 nearly, have been to-day to see me. They are 
 very quiet and well-behaved, but greatly amused at the 
 prisoner. Mackay's name seems quite a household word ; 
 I constantly hear it. 
 
 " My men are kept in close confinement, except two 
 who come daily backwards and forwards to bring my food. 
 This they take in turns, and implore, so I hear, for 
 the job. 
 
 " Oct. 2.6th, Monday. — (Fifth day in prison.) Limbs 
 and bruises and stiffness better, but I am heavy and sleepy. 
 Was not inclined to get up as usual, and, if I mistake not, 
 signs of fever creep over me. Mackay should get my letter 
 to-day, and sufficient time has passed for the chief to 
 receive an answer to his first message sent before I was 
 seized, the nature of which I know not, probably — White 
 man is stopping here. Shall I send him on? Waiting 
 your Majesty's pleasure. If they do not guess who it is 
 they will very likely, African fashion, talk about it two or 
 three days first of all, and then send a message back leisurely 
 with Mwanga's permission for me to advance. 
 
 " About thirty-three more of the chiefs wives came and 
 disported themselves with gazing at the prisoner. I was 
 very poorly and utterly disinclined to pay any attention to 
 them, and said in English, ' O ladies, if you knew how ill 
 I feel, you would go.' When my food arrived in the 
 middle of the day I was unable to eat. The first time, I 
 think, since leaving the coast I have refused a meal. To- 
 day I am very broken down both in health and spirits, and 
 
380 James Hanmngton. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 some of the murmuring feelings which I thought that I had 
 conquered have returned hard upon me. Another party of 
 wives coming, I retired into the hut and decHned to see 
 them. A third party came later on, and being a little better 
 I came out and lay upon my bed. It is not pleasant to be 
 examined as a caged lion in the Zoo, and yet that is exactly 
 my state at the present time. My tent is jammed in 
 between the hut and high fence of the Boma, so scarce 
 a breath of air reaches me. Then at night, though the 
 tent is a vast improvement on the hut, yet two soldiers, 
 reeking with pombe and other smells, sleep beside me, and 
 the other part of my guard, not far short of twenty, laugh 
 and drink and shout far into the night and begin again 
 before daylight in the morning, waking up from time to 
 time to shout out to my sentries to know if all is well. 
 I fear all this is telling on my health tremendously. 
 
 " Oct. ijth, Tuesday. — (Sixth day as prisoner.) All I 
 can hear in the way of news is that the chief has sent men- 
 to fight those parts we passed through. I begin to doubt if 
 he has sent to Mwanga at all, but thinks I am in league 
 with the fighting party, and is keeping me hostage. I 
 begin the day better in health, though I had a most disturbed 
 night. I am very low in spirits ; it looks so dark, and 
 having been told that the first messengers would return at 
 tJie latest to-day. Last night the chief's messenger said 
 perhaps they might be here as soon as Thursday, but seemed 
 to doubt it. I don't know what to think, and would say 
 from the heart, ' Let the Lord do what seemeth to Him 
 good.' If kept here another week I shall feel sure no 
 messengers have been sent, and if possible shall endeavour to 
 flee, in spite of all the property I must leave behind and the 
 danger of the undertaking. 
 
 "Only a kw ladies came to see the wild beast to-day. I 
 felt so low and wretched that I retired within my den 
 whither they, some of them, followed me; but as it was too 
 dark to see me, and I refused to speak, they soon left. 
 
 "The only news of to-day is that two white men, one 
 tall and the other short, have arrived in Akota, and the 
 Sultan has detained them. It is only a report that has 
 
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 [Exact size.) 
 
382 Jdnies Hanniiigton. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 followed me. I am the tall man, and Pinto, my Goa cook, 
 the short one ; he is almost always taken for a white man, 
 and dresses as such. I fear, however, with these fearfully 
 suspicious people, that it may affect me seriously. I am 
 very low, and cry to God for release. 
 
 " Oct. n'itli, Wednesday. — (Seventh day's prison.) A 
 terrible night, first with noisy drunken guard, and" secondly 
 with vermin, which have found out my tent and swarm. I 
 don't think I got one sound hour's sleep, and woke with 
 fever fast developing. O Lord, do have mercy upon me 
 and release me. I am quite broken down and brought low. 
 Comforted by reading Psalm xxvii. 
 
 " In an hour or two fever developed very rapidly. My 
 tent was so stuffy that I was obliged to go inside the filthy 
 hut, and soon was delirious. 
 
 "Evening; fever passed away. Word came that Mwanga 
 had sent three soldiers, but what news they bring they will 
 not yet let me know. 
 
 ••' Much comforted by Psalm xxviii. 
 
 " Oct. 2<^t/i, Thursday. — (Eighth day's prison.) I can 
 hear no news, but was held up by Psalm xxx., which 
 came with great power. A hyena howled near me last night, 
 smelling a sick man, but I hope it is not to have me yet." 
 
 This is the last entry in the little pocket diary.* The 
 few lines of almost microscopic writing do not occupy quite 
 an eighth part of the page. It is quite clear, from the 
 different colour of the ink, that each day's entries were 
 made, not at the close of the day, but at various times, as 
 the writer found strength and opportunity. Thus, in the 
 entry of Wednesday, the 28th, the eye can almost trace the 
 phases of the sick man's suffering in his writing. The ink 
 is faint in which he wrote: "Fever fast developino-. O 
 Lord, do have mercy upon me." There he seems to have 
 
 * The book is one of Letts' monthly pocket diaries, very thin 
 and only 4^^ inches by 2j ; with an entire page for each day. Into 
 tliis small space the Bishop has managed to get as many as forty- 
 six lines to a page, each line averaging twelve or thirteen words 
 The writing is very minute; indeed, a lens was found almost 
 necessary to decipher some parts of it. 
 
.«t. 38.] The Last Page of the Diary. 383 
 
 laid down the pen — in what bodily weakness who can ever 
 know ? The following words — " and release me ; I am 
 quite broken down and brought low. Comforted by reading 
 twenty-seventh Psalm " — were evidently added at night, 
 after the delirium of the fever had passed away. The com- 
 parative briefness of the entry made on the 28th tells an 
 eloquent tale of weakness and physical distress. For the 
 first time since he left the coast, three months before, his 
 old enemy, fever, had found him out, and threatened to 
 overwhelm his faculties at the moment when he most desired 
 to be in the full possession of them. It is just possible that 
 a second attack of fever may have incapacitated him from 
 writing more on the 29th. But as no hint is given of 
 recurring symptoms it is most probable, indeed, well-nigh 
 certain, that the entry of that day was cut short by his death. 
 The ink may still have been wet when his guards led him 
 forth to die. 
 
 It is needless to add anything to these words of his which 
 have come to us from the antechamber of death. Durino- 
 that testing time the man reveals himself to us in all the 
 grand simplicity of his sublime faith. Almost torn to pieces, 
 deprived of every comfort and all the decencies of life, 
 latterly racked by fever, and with the shadow of an unknown 
 doom darkening his heart, he never seems for a single 
 instant to have wavered in his confidence in his God. When 
 " quite broken down " by bodily outrage and the sickness 
 of hope deferred, when " brought very low" by superadded 
 fever, he could be comforted by such Psalms as xxvii — xxx, 
 and apply to himself the words : " I had fainted, unless I had 
 believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the 
 living. Wait on the Lord. Be of good courage. Wait, I 
 say, on the Lord." 
 
 It seems that until the very end Hannington had little 
 or no suspicion that Mwanga was concerned in his arrest. 
 He looked forward to the return of the messengers sent to 
 U-Ganda as the signal for his immediate release. On 
 Wednesday, the 28th, there had been much drumming and 
 shouting among the natives. When the Bishop's men 
 asked the meaning of the demonstration, they were told 
 
384 James Hatinington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 that the king had sent word that the Mzungu (European) 
 should be allowed to proceed to U-Ganda. They were 
 much relieved, and hoped that their trouble was over. Pro- 
 bably the same story was told to the Bishop on the following- 
 day as an excuse for hurrying him out of his prison-hut to the 
 place of execution. Until the last moment he would have 
 had no idea that he was irrevocably doomed to death — that 
 this Lubwa was but the poor cat's-paw by the employment 
 of whom Mwanga hoped to escape the responsibility of the 
 actual massacre. When, therefore, he was allowed to leave 
 his prison-hut, and was escorted to a place at a considerable 
 distance from the village, where he was told that he would 
 be rejoined by his men, we can well imagine that he con- 
 cluded that the worst was now over, and even began to turn his 
 thoughts toward the recovery of the valuable goods which he 
 had brought so far for the use of the brethren in U-Ganda. 
 
 He was not, however, long left in doubt as to the fate 
 which was in store for him. His caravan-men stood there, 
 indeed, awaiting him, but they were all stripped naked and 
 bound, huddled together like sheep in a pen. Some of 
 them, who bore upon their bodies traces of a hard struggle^ 
 were yoked with heavy wooden slave-collars, and their arn"^ 
 lashed behind their backs. All around stood soldiers. 
 Evidently the end had come. 
 
 To the Bishop the shock must have been a terrible one. 
 During the long walk of two hours through the forest he had 
 been upheld by the hope of a happy meetino- between him- 
 self and his faithful band. Now he saw clearly that both 
 he and they had been led out to die. He was not even 
 allowed an instant to rest himself upon the ground. With 
 characteristic coolness he would have sat down beneath a 
 tree to recover breath before making any further movement, 
 but the soldiers told oft to murder him closed round and 
 commenced to strip from him his clothing. In that supreme 
 moment we have the happiness of knowing that the Bishop 
 faced his destiny like a Christian and a man. So circum 
 stanced, and subjected to such indignity, he made one last use 
 of that commanding mien which never failed to secure for 
 him the respect of the most savage. Drawing himself up 
 
"^'^ 3^-] Hozv He Died. 385 
 
 e around, and as they momentarily hesitated he 
 spoKe _a tew words which graved themselves upon their 
 memories, and which they afterwards repeated just as they 
 were heard. He bade them tell the King that he was 
 about to die for the Ba-ganda, and that he had purchased the 
 road to Buganda with his life. 
 
 Then he submitted himself to them, and, kneeling down, 
 committed his soul to God. A moment later a gun was 
 discharged. It was the appointed signal. With a wild 
 shout the warriors fell upon the trembling group of porters, 
 and their flashing spears soon covered the ground with the 
 dead and dying. At the same moment the Bishop fell. The 
 two soldiers who were stationed, one on each side of him, 
 plunged their spears into his body. They could do no 
 more. The great and noble spirit leapt forth from its broken 
 house of clay, and entered with exceeding joy into the 
 presence of the King.* 
 
 * ^; * H< ;(; * 
 
 Every morning during that hard-fought journey he had 
 greeted the sunrise with his " travelling psalm," " / -ujill lift 
 lip mine eyes unto the hills., from tvJience comet h my help." 
 NOW his feet were planted upon the battlements of the 
 everlasting hills, and the weary traveller saw what it is not 
 granted to eyes of flesh to see. 
 
 '■ The above account, which differs in some few particulars from 
 that given in the earlier editions of this book, may be rehed upon 
 as accurate. It is taken from the independent narratives of two 
 of the Bishop's servants who escaped from the massacre. It now 
 appears that, when the bloody work was almost concluded, a man 
 came running from the sultan Lubwa commanding that the few 
 remaining porters should be spared and brought back to the 
 village. About ten were thus saved. Among these was a lad 
 named Ikutu, the Bishop's chair-bearer, who, after some weeks' 
 captivity, persuaded two others to join him in an attempt to escape. 
 This, after many perils, they accomplished successfully, and, 
 reachino- the shore of the lake, persuaded some canoe-men to take 
 them and a comrade who had overtaken them to U-Sukuma, from 
 whence they were able to enter into communication with Mr. 
 Mackay and finally to return with Mr. Taylor to Zanzibar. Some 
 others have since made their escape. One of these, a young 
 African Christian named Christopher Boston, was speared before 
 the order to desist arrived. He was left upon the ground for dead, 
 
 25 
 
386 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 How often had he encouraged his companions, in times 
 of doubt or difficulty, with the words : " Never be dis- 
 appointed, only Praise." Was he disappointed now, when, 
 standing upon the very verge of the land he had come so 
 far to see, he was yet forbidden to enter it ; and when the 
 prize of his endeavour was snatched from his grasp in the 
 very moment of victory ? " The Lord shall preserve thy 
 going out and tJiy coining in from this time forth for ever- 
 more." That day was the day of his "coming in," not 
 to the land which he had hoped to reach before he died, 
 but to a far better land. For henceforth " he shall dwell 
 on high, his place of defence shall be the munitions of 
 rocks : bread shall be given him : his waters shall be sure ; 
 for his eyes do see the King in His beauty ; and they 
 behold the Land that is very far off." 
 
 ;|; * :); * >!: * 
 
 Out of the fifty men who accompanied the Bishop 
 only four were, at first, set free and suffered to escape. 
 These made their way back, as we have seen, to Kwa Sundu, 
 and carried the tidings of the massacre to Mr. Jones. The 
 only reason which he had for not at once believing their 
 tale was that they failed to give him a satisfactory account 
 of the manner in which they had avoided the fate of their 
 companions. This is partially explained by Mr. Mackay, 
 who says that three or four men were spared in order that 
 they might show their captors how to open the boxes which 
 contained the Bishop's goods. It is easy to understand that 
 they might have been ashamed to confess that they had 
 
 but during the night revived, and crawled for many miles through 
 the forest, with his bowels protruding through the rent made by the 
 spear, till he, too, at last, reached the lake and was rescued by a 
 native, a friend of Mr. Mackay. 
 
 When asked why they had killed the Bishop with the spear and 
 had not shot him, the natives replied, " Ah ! the gun is the weapon 
 for the white men, they make it, and they know what charm to use, 
 so that it will not kill them, but the spear is our weapon, and the 
 European has no charm against it." The report which was at first 
 received that the Bishop had been shot, arose, no doubt, from the 
 fact that a signal gun was fired close to him just as the massacre 
 commenced. 
 
^t. 38.] Ictus sed noil Vict us. 387 
 
 purchased their lives upon such terms. Hence their equivo- 
 cation upon this point only. 
 
 Mr. Jones, faithful and devoted to his Bishop to the last, 
 waited at Kwa Sundu for about a month after he received 
 the report of his death — hoping against hope, and unwilling 
 to leave while the most remote chance of his being alive 
 should remain. It would have been utterly impossible for 
 him to have penetrated into U-Soga. To have done so 
 would have been to sacrifice his entire caravan, without 
 even the prospect of achieving anything. On the 8th of 
 December, therefore, he sorrowfully turned his face from the 
 Lake, and began to retrace his steps along the backward route. 
 
 On the 4th of February, 1886, at sunrise, the Christians 
 at Rabai were wending their way churchward to the early 
 Service, when they were startled by the sound of guns ; and 
 presently some messengers — weary men, and with the marks 
 of long travel upon them — came in to say that the Bishop's 
 caravan was at hand. The Bishop's caravan without the 
 Bishop! While these were being eagerly cross-examined, 
 other guns signalled from the valley, very distant, but volley- 
 ing nearer and yet more near ; and the whole settlement ran 
 down to meet their returning friends. Among them were 
 sad-faced and distracted women, who had gleaned from the 
 first-comers that their husbands had perished in the great 
 disaster. As the two Englishmen in charge of the Mission 
 Station hastened forward, they met one bearing a blue 
 pennon — the African symbol of mourning — whereon was 
 sewn in white letters the word ICHABOD. Behind the 
 sad standard-bearer, amid a crowd of weeping and distraught 
 women and friends, limped a straggling line of sorry-looking 
 men, staggering beneath their diminished loads; — a feeble 
 crew, lean and weary and travel-stained — most of them 
 garmentless or clothed in hides. Behind them came a 
 battered white helmet, and the Bishop's friend and sharer in 
 his peril was grasping their hands, and taken into their arms. 
 None of them were able to say much: all were thinking of 
 him who had gone out so hopefully, and whose great heart 
 was now stilled for ever. 
 
 ****** 
 
388 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 When the news reached England, the report of the 
 Bishop's death was at first received with general incredulity. 
 The public did not believe that any African king would 
 dehberately, and in cold blood, murder a European dignitary. 
 Others had, indeed, lost their lives, but — as in the case of 
 Shergold Smith and O'Neill — this was rather owing to their 
 having become in some way, however unintentionally, 
 implicated in tribal feuds^ than to any desire on the part 
 of the natives to injure them. There was no quarrel 
 between U-Ganda and England. Envoys had been sent 
 from thence to our Queen, and had returned loaded with 
 her favours. The British Consul was in communication 
 with Mtesa, and his name was one to conjure with at his 
 court. At the first blush the tidings seemed absurd. 
 
 Nor did those who knew Hannington intimately believe 
 that he had been killed, until they were forced to do so by 
 overwhelming evidence. We had great confidence in the 
 man. That he should have suffered from his own hardiness 
 and extreme contempt of danger did not seem improbable, 
 but that he should have been put to death at the bidding of 
 any native chief appeared very unlikely. His presence of 
 mind and readiness of resource were, we thought, sufficient 
 to extricate him from most perils of this sort. We were 
 then as ignorant as he was when he planned his last journey, 
 that the young king of U-Ganda and his chiefs had assumed 
 such an attitude towards Europeans that it would be almost 
 certain death for any stranger to approach their dominions 
 from the forbidden East. 
 
 When, at last, our countrymen were compelled to accept 
 the fact, it was received with quite universal sorrow. The 
 young Bishop had not lived long enough to be known much 
 beyond the circle of his own personal friends, but all were 
 aware that a man of no ordinary parts, brave and self-devoted 
 beyond most others, had been suddenly cut down in the 
 actual consummation of a great achievement. 
 
 His death seemed to be a martyrdom. And indeed it 
 was. As an ambassador of Christ he started, and as an 
 ambassador of Christ, the recognized chief of that growing 
 party in U-Ganda who served " another King, Jesus," and 
 
/E.t. 38.] Estimate of His Work. 389 
 
 who were ready to confess His name in the fire, he was 
 met and murdered. His dying testimony will not be for- 
 gotten on the shores of the great Lake. His words are 
 passed from mouth to mouth : " I am about to die for the Ba- 
 ganda, and have purchased the road to them with my life.''* 
 
 So his death was lifted out of the list of ordinary deaths 
 which happen to men in the course of their duty ; it was 
 understood that he had devoted himself in no ordinary 
 manner, and his name at once found a place, with that ot 
 Gordon, Patteson, Gardiner, and other Christian heroes of this 
 generation, among the ranks of the noble army of martyrs. 
 
 By and by, from all sides, poured in the testimony of his 
 friends. It was noticed that those who had been brought 
 into closest contact with him were most impressed by his 
 single-minded self-devotion and unselfishness ; and many 
 who knew him only by name began to feel that they had 
 lost in him a friend and a brother. Among many such tes- 
 timonies we may quote that of Mr. Wray, who, it will be 
 remembered, accompanied his Bishop to Chagga. He says : 
 "The more I knew him, the more I loved him. Oh, that 
 loving, tender-hearted, winning soul ! I cannot forget 
 those feet which trod over a hundred miles of desert that I 
 might be carried in his own hammock. He saved my life ! " 
 
 There were some who thought that he had rashly thrown 
 his life away ; that he had incurred an unwarrantable 
 amount of danger for no corresponding advantage. We are 
 all prone to be wise after the event. We can all see now 
 that he placed his head within the very jaws of the lion. 
 We can all give a score of excellent reasons why his journey 
 should never have been attempted at all. But then we are 
 
 * Mr. Ashe writes from Natete, Baganda : "We were fortu- 
 nate in obtaining our dear Bishop's Bible. One of our Christians 
 bought it of a man who had taken it from the Bishop. An inci- 
 dent connected with it is worth mentioning. One or two of those 
 who were present when I was giving the cowrie shells for the book 
 expressed a desire to share in the cost of redeeming it. They said 
 it was our brother's, and they would like to do this. I mentioned 
 before that one of the members of our native Church Council 
 wrote to me a letter, saying he quite understood tliat the BisJiop had 
 tost his life i7i endeavouring to benefit them." 
 
390 James Hamiington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 in possession of information which was not in the hands of 
 either Bishop Hannington or his advisers. Sir John Kirk, 
 than whom no hving man has had a larger experience of 
 Africans, and missionaries who had spent many years in 
 deahng with the natives, concurred with the Bishop in 
 his opinion that the only danger to be apprehended was 
 from the wild and turbulent Masai tribes. These once 
 passed, the success of the journey would be, they thought, 
 assured. Against this danger the Bishop made preparation 
 by thoroughly studying the manners and customs of these 
 people ; he arrived at the conclusion that they would prove 
 troublesome rather than dangerous, if met in a friendly spirit ; 
 and that he was not wrong in this estimate of the perils of 
 the way has been abundantly shown, both by his own quick 
 upward progress, and by Mr. Jones' safe return with the 
 shattered remnants of the originally small caravan. 
 
 And even had the peril been greater than the Bishop 
 and his advisers thought it to be, he would not have hesi- 
 tated to incur it, if he might thereby have conferred a great 
 and lasting benefit upon the Church of Central Africa. The 
 lower road to the Lake is not only circuitous and diiBcult, 
 but has dangers of its own which are more to be feared than 
 the spear of the Masai. Bishop Hannington could not con- 
 template with equanimity the inevitable sufferings and prob- 
 able death of those who, like himself two years before, were 
 bound to fight the spectral army of disease which barred the 
 way into the far interior. He thought it worth while to 
 incur some risk in order that he might in his own person 
 prove or disprove the practicability of the short and healthy 
 road to U-Ganda. But for the stupid ignorance and short- 
 sighted greed of the boy-successor of the great Mtesa, he 
 would in all human probability be now hailed as the success- 
 ful explorer who by one bold stroke had saved to the pioneers 
 of Christian Civilization many thousands of money and 
 many invaluable lives. 
 
 In these days of advanced civilization, when so much 
 painful forethought is expended upon the upbringing of a 
 single man, it is not unnatural that we should have formed 
 a high opinion of the value of life. It seems to us a pitiful 
 
^t. 38-] Estimate of His Work. 391 
 
 thing that the masterpiece which has been turned out as the 
 result of long years of patient and costly toil should be 
 shattered — dashed into fragments in a moment. We are 
 inclined to be impatient with the man who unduly exposes 
 himself to danger; and the word "rash'^ carries with it a sense 
 of opprobrium unknown to our courage-loving ancestors. 
 
 It is of course impossible that we should value life too 
 highly ; but is there no danger lest we should value life too 
 much ? — too much as mere living ? A life is not always 
 " thrown away " when it is poured out — poured out as was 
 the water of the well of Bethlehem at the feet of the great 
 king ; otherwise the costly missile from the great piece of 
 ordnance would be " thrown away " when, in breaking 
 down the wall of the enemies' fortress, it is broken itself. 
 
 And what did he achieve, this martyr-bishop of the 
 modern Church ? He died at the early age of thirty-eight. 
 He had not time to do many things, and yet we may truly 
 say that he did much. Not to mention the deep impress of 
 his own personality which he has left upon those who were 
 brought into close contact with him, he has given to the 
 Mission in East Africa an impulse of which we may con- 
 fidently expect that it will not lose the momentum. He 
 has completed the circle of that great ring of Christian 
 stations of which the signet stone is the Victoria Nyanza, 
 and, in joining the two ends, has welded them together with 
 his death. 
 
 When the present panic has subsided, and the chiefs of 
 the Nyanza States have learned to regard their white teach- 
 ers as their truest friends — and it is a safe prophecy to pre- 
 dict that this will be the case before many years have passed 
 — then the messengers of the Church will make their way 
 to the furthest outpost of her dominions along the healthy 
 upland stretches of that Northern route. They will then 
 remember whose feet first trod that path for Christ. It may 
 be that the time is not far distant when a memorial cross 
 will mark the spot where the brave Bishop fell, and that 
 native Christians from U-Ganda will take their children 
 there to point out to them the hallowed ground on which 
 a martyr died. 
 
392 James Hannington. [A.D. 1885. 
 
 To us he has bequeathed the priceless legacy of a devoted 
 life. His splendid example will not have been set before this 
 generation in vain. As he himself was stirred by the early 
 and violent death which closed the faithful labours of Sher- 
 gold Smith and O'Neill, so we are persuaded that others will 
 be stirred by the recital of his gallant attempt, and his fall on 
 the very ramparts of the fortress, to step forward and uplift 
 the banner that has dropt from his dying hands. 
 
 As for him, we commit him to the Lord in whom he 
 trusted. He shall not be confounded. What if his busy 
 hands and feet, torn from his body, now rattle in the wind 
 above the gateway of some savage town ! What if the 
 bleaching skull, wherein once his active brain wrought for 
 the good of all, now hangs like a beacon from the leafless 
 arm of some withered tree ! He would have been the first 
 to tell us that no such things could affect his life. For 
 that was hid with Christ in God. The world is his tomb. 
 Somewhere upon its circumference lie his mortal parts. 
 Wherever that may be we know that his sleep is sweet. 
 Obdonnivit in Chrisio. 
 
 His last words to his friends in England — words scribbled 
 by the light of some camp fire — were : 
 
 " If this is the last chapter of my earthly history, then 
 the next will be the first page of the heavenly — no blots and 
 smudges, no incoherence, but sweet converse in the pre- 
 sence of the Lamb! " 
 
 There, then, in that blessed Presence, we may leave him, 
 only asking for ourselves that which it was granted to him 
 so abundantly to enjoy — 
 
 " That blessed mood 
 In which the burden of the mystery, 
 In which the heavy and the weary weight 
 Of all this unintelligible world, 
 Is lightened." 
 
 THE END. 
 
 SiHMOss & BoiiEH, Printers, Shoe laoe, B.C.