The Express.
London, England, 1861-05-24 00:00:00

LONDON, FRIDAY EVENING, MAY 24, 1861

DREADFUL SUFFERINGS OF TWO

MIMMONARY FAMILIES.

The following extract from the report read at
the recent meeting of the London Missionary Society rte
forth the facia ormunented on in another column :

"Since the znamacre of Williams on the Island of Era.
mango, in the year 1839, no event has befallen the society
so deeply afflictive as the issue of the arduous attempt to
establish • mission among the native tribes oo the north of
the Zambesi- the great river of Control South Africa. The •
Christian public in general, and the members of the eociety
ill particular, are well aware that, as the result of Dr.
Livinptone's travels, while in the service of the society.
and at his particular iostariee and advice, the
directors, with the cordial concurrence of their con-
stituents, resolved to establish two missions, the
one ou the north of the Zambesi, among the Maimlolo, ,
and the other on the south, among the Matabele.
The attempt to establish the former was committed to the
Bev. Holloway Helmore, with Messrs. Price and Mackenzie
as fellow-labourers ; and with the mournful result the
friends of the society are already acquainted. The difficul-
ties and dangers attendant on their journey of nearly •
thousand sides from Kururnan and Lioyanti were such as
nothing but the noblest Christian principles would have in-
ducal them to escouster or enabled them to surmount. Of
these the chief was the destitutioo of water both for them-
selves and their nes, so that, in more than one case, they
wars obliged to remain several weeks in the vicinity of
• foastsin, not kaoline how remote the neat might
pron. At length, after enduring innumerable difficulties
and privation for seven months, they arrived, on Feb.
14, DMA at Lioyaoti, the residence of the chief
The Him, writes Mr. Prom, ' wag said to re
oatcadteas sot lady to arra for two days.
Haiworr, en the arrow, • floe fat ox was seat to us
fer slaagliter and on the third day Sekeletu himself,
accompanied byes nuncio number of his people, came to
see us, bneigini
_presents of beer. Nothing had been seen
or heard of Dr. Livingstone, and, therefore, we had a con-
sultation es to what we should do. Sekeletu refused Wallow
us to remove elsewhere,' or ern to point out • healthy
artwhere we could settle down and wait for the doctor,
t proposed that we should live with him. This pr.oposi
Hon was necessity accepted, and we began forthwith to '
build temporary houses. Mr. Helmer, preached in the
King's Kull& on the first Sunday, and also on the morning
of the 2nd.' Thus far, although disapitointed by the non-
arrival of Dr. Livingstone, and grieved by the refusal of
the chief to allow them to seek a salubrious spot for the
mission, our brethren were sustained by hope, and forthwith
commenced their work of mercy among the people. ' But
now,' says Mr. Price, writing to the sister of
Mr. Ilelmure, ' begins • dark, very dark chapter in
the history of the Makololo mission, than which perhaps
there are not many darker in the history of Christian HIM.
sins. lo the course of about • week we ware all laid low,
but more especially Mr. and Mrs. Helmore, the four
children, and all our servants ,• but, through the great mercy
of God, Mrs. Price and myself were still able to move about
• little, although with great difficulty. We were able to
attend • little upon our dear friends the Helmores, neither
of whom could hardly move • limb. As I was going round
one evening to see if they were all comfortable, I found
the four children lying on • bed on the outside of the
tent, and Mrs. Helmore by the side of the bed on • cushion.
They were all asleep. I felt their foreboids, Ices ; at last
came to dear little Henry : he was cold—he had just slept
the sleep of death. I immediately went and informed his
father, who was lying in the tent ; he told ins I had better
not tell Mrs. lislmore till the morning. I took the child
into the net and wrapped up the body in a piece of
carpeting, and engaged men to prepare • grave, that we
might bury hint the next morning. He was buried by the
side of Milani, my_waggon.drivit ,r who had died a few
days previously. When it was told Mrs. Helmore she took
no notice whatever, although it was her dear, precious
little Henry. This wan on March 7 ,• on the 9th our dear
little Irby died. On the 11th Selina Helmore died, and on
the earn day Thabi of beating. On the 12th Mrs. Hel-
more died. Mr. Holman had some conversation with her
shortly before she expired. She said she had oo desire to
live—ber work woe done, sod she wished to go home to
Jesus. After that, Mr. Helmore, and Lune, sod Willie
improved considerably, until about the middle of April,
when Mr. Helmore paid • visit to Sekeletu in the town,
and came back very tired and feeling very unwell. From
that time he became worse and worse, soil on Friday
afternoon, April 20, he fell into • kid of sleep, and
remained in that state of unconsciousness for about thirty.
five hours, and then, on the night of Saturday, breathed hie
Int. All thin I wrapped up and consigned coffinless to the
silent tomb with my own hands, with the exception of my
own child, which died in the arm. of its mother whilst she
sat by my bedside as I lay helpless from fever. Never
have I seen se mach Cried= courage, patience, and zeal
for Christ's ruse displayed r is Mr. and Mrs. Helmore
amidst all they suffered both on the journey and at the
Makololo. When we saw that Mr. H. was becoming seri.
only ill, we endeavoured to get him to give us some in-
structioe as tallow we should manage with the two dear
children and his goods. But alas it was too late ' • he had
In • great measure lost his power of speech, and it was only
by patting a direct question to him that we could under-
steed anything, for lie could not my any more than just yes
or no. One aloe he particularly desired me to do was to
take his children to Cape Town and anthem early on
ship for England.'
" From this scene of pestilence and death the solitary
missionary and his devoted wife prepared to depart, as the
only means of saving their own lives and the
lives of the little orphans entrusted to their care.
By the last African mail, letters to the directors ar-
rived from Mr. Price, Mr. Mackenzie, and our ennoble
friend Moffitt, dated Kurensan, February 20, where they
had all just arrived after their long and trying journey.
That of Mr. Prior, which is deeply affecting, continua
the sevesel statements already given of the suffio,
and rase at Linymiti, and supplies the strongest proofs
of the unprincipled and cruel conduct of the chief.
The following are some at its heartrending details
What were my feelings on the morning of the
22nd of April as I followed the remains of my dear
brother to the silent Minh can better be imagined than ex-
pressed. All then fell upon me, and I was so reduced
that I was hardly able to move, and my poor wife had en-
tirely lost the use of her feet and legs. But I forthwith
Ups to make preparations fur returning to the south,'
althmigh 1 was obliged to be carried or led about from box
to box, and packing for • couple of hours io the morning
would lay me up completely for the two following days.
However, I managed to get all ready by the god of May.
Up to the time of Mr. IL's death the Makololo were
pretty quiet; whether we lived or dial, they not
trouble us much. But when he dial, and I began to
powers for going away, then began our real troubles.
By day things were taken before our eyes, by force, if they
were not given up willingly, and by night stealing by whole-
sale ; my clothes, that 1 had been wearing daring the day,
were stolen at night from the foot of my bed. When I
was ready to go away, Sekeletu came, and, without any
ceremony, took possession of Mr. 11.'s new waggon, and a
host of goods of his and mine. They being taken, he de-
maired two front and two hind oxen, wherewith to train
others ; then he compelled me to remain and let my men
train oxen for him. All my guns and ammunitioo, both
tents, and a blot of other things, were taken
whilst I was still at the town. One day I was
lying on the ground hardly able to move, when a messes.
ger came from Sekeletu demanding scene more goods before
I could go away. I said if they did not let me go moo,
they would have to bury me beside the others. I was simply
told that I might as well die there as anywhere else. At
length, on the 19th June, we left the town accompanied by
&keine in his new waggon. In the evening we reached
the river of Linyanti, and on the following day all the re-
mainiug goods were taken over in canoes. That being done,
a n campcame to me from Sekeletu to this effect, that now
thet goods were on one side of the river and the waggons on
the other, and that they would remain so until I went over
sod delivered up all Mr. Helmore's goods. I ninon.
strated, but in vain ; I was like a lamb in a lion's mouth.
A great many of my own things also I had to deliver up.
Tlueecows also and several oxen were taken at that river.
Having thus got a good draining there, I proceeded to the
(hobs. I took out all my goods ready for crossing, and
thee • merge came to me that Sekeletu had hitherto got
only Mr. IL's goods, and that now he must have min.
After • good dad of pleading I was allowed a few things for
the journey, such as • couple of shirts, • vest or two, two
ler three pairs of trowsers, an old coat that 1 had worn in
Fauglaad about two years, an old pair of shoes which I had
cm, he. Already they had taken all my bed clothing, with
the esceptiun of what was just sufficient for one bed ; for
the other we had a kaross. But before my oxen could cross
the Choi" I must needs deliver up one blanket. Every
grain of corn which I had for food for the men they had
taken, and for all thew things 1 did not get oven • goat for
slaughter for the road. These were my prospects for a
journey of upwards of a thousand miles to 'Coronae.
Alas! when will this dark chapter end ? Oo the plain of
the Mababe, on the evening of the 4th of July, Mr. Hel-
niors's two children, my own dear wife, and I, met together
for oar erasing meal, when we entered into conversation
about what we bed seen and suffered ; and feeling that we
were legion' to breathe again the free air of the desert.
we • on another to forget the past and think of
car morass ; for we felt that we had still what might,
through the mercy of God, bring us within the reach of help.
My dear wife hail been for a long time utterly helpless, but
we all thought she was getting better. She went to sleep
that night, alas ! to wake no more! Is the morning
early, I found her breathing very hard. I spoke to
her, and tried to wake her, but it was too late. I watched
her all the morning. She became worse and worse, and ••
little after midday her spirit took ita flight to God who pie
it I buried her the same evening, under • tree—the only
tree on the whole of the immense plain of the Mahan.
This was to me • heavy stroke, but 'God was my
refuge and strength, • very • present help in trouble.'
Such things arc hard to bear, bet God Insolent' oar
frame, and as our day is, se is ear mairmith.' In

this letter Mr. Price expresses • strong impression
that Mr. and Mrs. Delmore, their children, and
the Boehm= Christians who died at Linysoti, were all the
victims of poison administered to them by the chief, through
the they received on their arrival at his town.
This painful conclusion of our friend is founded on the
report of certain of the Ilakololo, who also informed him
that after his departure the body of his beloved wife had
been disinterred and mutilated, and the face taken to
Linyanti for exhibition. But the notorious habits of in-
section and lying of these people would afford strong
gmand for distrusting such statements. dir George Grey,
and other friends at the Cape, were also of opinion
that the symptoms and characteristics of the disease
were identical with the fever which so die prevails on
the mouth of the Zambesi, and which Dr. Livingstone so
frequently witnessed, and even suffered on hi former
travels. With regard to the latter report, had it been true,
it can =areal, be imagined that seek • revolting fact could
Uwe been altogether unknown to Dr. Livingstone when he
anbeequently visited Linyivati."
•

In justiacirtiou of the Makololo Mission, the directors
say :—" The establishment ci the Makololo Mission was
projected by Livieptons—the most intelligent and most
experienced of African travellers—the only man who was
familiar both with the country mid the people. Its ex-
minim was committed, at Livingstone s suggestion, to
his friend and fellow-labourer, Helmore—a man well ac-
quainted with the native language, nod qualified by the ex-
perietioe of twenty years of missiooory life among • people
whom be found as debased and wretched as the Makololo,
but whom, by God's blueing he had elevated to the
dignity and happiness of Christian life, if any nun
coukl have conquered the selfishness and cruelty of the
heathen chief, the courage, patience, and disinterested
love of Halmore would have insured the triumph ; sad our
batikar bead bie grove at Unpin* met bemuse he was
igsehrat of the &Headset damper, bat bosom Ms WI&
foundediFilatioss ci removing to • sodubrieus locality
re we u frustrated by its despotic ruler, and he vas
comps to remain amidst swamps teeming with pieta-
lance and death. To attempt an elaborate eulogy on the
life and labours of their beloved missionary would appear
to the directors ILI unsuitable as it would be superfluous.
To that Saviour who loved him, who red • him by
his blood, sod renewed his heart by His Holy Spirit,
the entire life of the departed, made up of toil
sod privation, was gratefully consecrated. By Dine*
grace be wits richly endowed with qualifications for
the arduous minidn he was called to discharge ; and by his
childlike simplicity ind truthfulness, his generous self-sacri-
fice and indomitable persevenook Hebron secured the con-
fidence, admiration, and love of all his associates in mis-
sionary labour. The church at Lekatlong, composed of
more than four hundred Christina Bechumes, whom he
rescued,. by the pa of God, from the deepest misery of
heathenism, will prove an undying memorial of hie
compassion to perishing souls and his fidelity to Christ
his Lord. When called by his Divine Master to leave
the lovely Oasis which he bad for many years planted,
and watered, and watched, said to advance. a thousand
miles into the wilderness, and there tin his work
anew—with a cheerful heart be obeyed the call, and
went forth, not knowing whither be went ; and although
he entered into rest just as he reached the outskirts of
his new and long-sought field of labour, yet are we ens-
' tained and comforted by the perfect assurance that the
compassionate and Almighty Saviour soothed and animated
the departing spirit of Has devoted missionary with the con-
solatioes of His holy spirit, and greeted him at the threshold
of Heaven with the benign salutation, ' Well done, good
and faithful normal—it was well that it was in thy
heart to do it —enter thou into the joy of thy Lord.'
The directors would deem it at present premature
to express any opinion as to the practicability of renewing
the mission at the Makololo, as they are now in possession
of information sufficiently ample and specific to enable
them to form a cowlusion ; but should such an attempt
hereafter be made, their two devoted brethren, Messrs.
Price and Mackenzie, express their readiness to devote their
lives anew to the enterprise. The former closes his letter
with the following expression of unsubdued seal and entire
onaseciation to the cense of Christ among the heathen.
' I intend, in about six weeks or two mouths, to
to Cape Town with the children. Whether
fr7o:ay further will depend upon the director, for I am at
their service ; for some mums I should like to accompany
the children to England, provided I could be sure of com-
ing out again soon.' If suffering in the mission work is
doing anything, then I have done something ; if not, then
I have done but little. My prayer now is that God will
direct me to tome suitable sphere where I may.apend my
life in the service of Christ among the heathen."'
The following is an extract of a letter written by the late
Mrs. Rahman to • member of her family, describing her
journey mum the desert to the place where she died :

" The last star of our journey has been without excep-
tions the most trying time of travelling I have experienced
In Atria. We are sow within the tropism. sad em a tourney
we are more exposed than in a house ; the heat during the
day is intense, 102 deg. in the shade, and often affects me
with faintoes and giddiness; but the early mornings are
still pleasantly cool. We may expect rain this month, and
are longing fur it, as those only can loeg who have travelled
through a dry and perched wildernise where no water is.
Our poor oxen were at one time four, at another five days
without drink. It was quite painful to see how tame they
were rendered by thirst ; they crowded round the waggon,
licking the water casks, and putting their noses &mu to
the dishes and basins, and then looked up to our faces, es if
asking for water. We suffered very much ourselves from
thirst, being obliged to ecooomis• the little we had in our
venal; not knowing when we should get more. We had
ebut they either could not or would not give us any
forTnation. Tuesday, the 6th instant, was one of the most
trying days I ever passed. About sunrise the poor oxen,
which had been painfully dragging the heavy waggons
through the deep mod daring the night, stopping sow lied
then to draw breath, gave signs of giving up altogether. We
had not gone as many miles as we had travelled booze. Ny
husband now resolved to remain behind with one waggon
and a single man, while I nod the children and the rest of
the people went forward with all the oxen. thinking that we
should certainly reach water by night. We had bad a very
scanty supply the day before; the men had not tasted drink
since breakfast until late in the evening—we divided a bot-
tle full among four of them. There now renoioed five
bottles of water ; I gave my husband three, and reserved
two for the children, expecting that we should get water
amt. It was a sorrowful parting, for we were all faint from
thirst, and of course sating was oat of the question ; we
were afraid even to do anything lest exercise should aggra•
vale our thirst. After dragging slowly on for four hours
the hat obliged us to stop.

"The poor children continually asked for water; I put
them off as long as I could, and when they could be denied
no longer doled the precious fluid out a spoonful at a time
to each of them. Poor Selina and Henry cried bitterly.
Willie bore up manfully, but his sunken eyes showed how
much he suffered. Occasionally I observed a oeuvulsive
twitching of his features, showing what an effort he was
making to restrain his feelings. As for dear Lizzie, she did
not utter • word of complaint, nor even ask for water, but
lay on the ground all the day perfectly quiet, her lips quits
parched and blackened. About sunset we made another
attempt, and got on about five miles. The people then pro-
posed going ou with the oxen in search of water, promising
to return with a supply to the waggon, but 1 urged their
resting • little and then making another attempt, that we
might possibly get near enough to walk on to it. They
yielded, tied up the poor oxen to prevent their wandering,
and laid down to sleep, having tasted ueither food
nor drink all day. None of us could eat. I
py• the children • little dried fruit, slightly
acid, in the middle of the day, but thirst took away all
desire to eat. Once in the course of the afternoon dear
Willie, after • desperate effort not to cry, soddenly asked
me if he might go and drain the bottles. Of course I coo-
seated; and presently bevelled out to me with much eager.
new that he had ' found some.' Pour little fellow ! it must
have been little indeed, fur his mister Selina had drained
them already. Soon after he called out that he hui found
another bottle of water. You can imagine the disappoint-
ment when 1 told him it was cocoa-nut oil melted by the
heat. But this is a digression. 1 must go buck to our
outspanning about nine pm. The water was long since
gone, and as a last resource just before dark I divided
among the children half a teacupful of wine and
water, which I bad been reserving in case I should feel faint.
They were revived by it, and said ' how nice it was,' though
it searcely allayed their thirst. Henry at length cried him-
self to sleep, and the rest were dozing feverishly. It was
a beautiful moonlight night, but the Rif hot and sultry. I
eat in front of the ammo, unable to sleep, hoping that
water might arrive before the children woke on another day.
About half-put 10 I saw some persons approachiog ; they
proved to be two Bakalsri bringing a tin canteen half full
of water, and a note from Mrs. Price, saying that
having heard from the nun we had sent forward of
the trouble we were in, and being themselves not
very far from the water, they had sent us all they had.
The sound of water soon roused the children, who had tried
in vain to sleep, and I shall not soon forget the rush they
mode to get • drink. There was not much, hut enough for
the present. I gave each of the childreu and mei, • cupful,
end then drank myself ;it was the first liquid tbat had
entered my lips for more than twenty four hours, and I had
eaten nothing. The Bakalari passed on after depositiug the
precious treasure, saying that though they had brought
me water they had none for themselves. They
were merely passing travellers---I almost thought
them angels sent from heaves. All now slept com-
fortably excepting myself ; my mind bad been too
much excited for sleep. And now a fresh disturbance
arose—the poor oxen had smelt the water, and became very
troublesome; the loose cattle crowding about the waggon,
licking and snuffing, and pushing their noses towards me, as
if begging for water. At two ocloxk I aroused the men,
telling them that if we were to make another attempt to
reach the water, no time was to he lost. They were tired
and faint, and very unwilling to move, but at last they gut
up, and begin to nalotee the oxen and drive them off with-
out the waggon. I remonstrated. but in vain ; they had
lost all spirit, • lipelu 11 stnde,. as the Bechuanes say. I