“Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;
The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee,
Help of the helpless, O abide with me.”
THE well-known lines I have just quoted must often have been the language of the sorely-tried missionaries in Uganda, for every day King Mwanga seemed to become more cruel and blood-thirsty than before. It was very seldom that a week passed without some of his unfortunate subjects being cruelly put to death. In August, 1885, the king took a trip on the lake, and ordered Mackay to accompany him. The very first day twenty poor natives whom they met were killed. Mackay writes in his diary: "This wicked work must stop. I hope to try by God's help to show the evil of such murder, and if it continue I must enter my protest and return to the capital.”
Not long after a fresh trouble caused deep sorrow to Mackay and his friend, Mr. Ashe. One day they heard that white men with a caravan were entering Uganda by a road that the king called his "back door," and the next the sad news reached them that the whole party, who proved to be Bishop Hannington and his followers, had been murdered by the express orders of the king, who knew that they had brought large quantities of beads, barter cloth, and other things which fell into his hands, and which he had brought to the palace by night, as he did not wish the news of this fresh crime to get abroad.
The missionaries spent much of their time in translating and printing portions of scripture, feeling sure that if they were obliged to leave the country, or, as it often seemed likely, called upon to lay down their lives for Christ's sake, God would still watch over and bless His own written word.
Many of the native Christians had been killed. Some were burnt, others killed by the sword. They witnessed a good confession, and boldly owned their faith in Christ, and the head executioner told the king that he had never killed such brave people. "They died," he said, "calling upon God.”
It was well known that any native found on the mission premises, which were often closely watched, would at once be arrested, and perhaps put to a cruel death; yet many, mostly young men and lads, found courage to visit them, some in broad daylight, though by far the larger number came by night. All received scripture portions, and many were baptized.
Sometimes the missionaries thought that the time for them to leave the country had really come, but without royal permission it would, they knew, be impossible for them to do so. Mackay had made himself far too useful as builder, doctor, worker in metals, carpenter and undertaker, to be readily spared. Though more than once he was told by the king that he intended to kill all the white men in the country, permission to leave was refused. "A great king like me," said Mwanga, "must always have a man of skill to work for him; I will not let you go away, not even if they send seventy letters for you!”
Still, week by week the christian company grew larger, and on July 25th 1888, the missionaries' journal shewed that two hundred and thirty-seven persons had been baptized. Several christian couples had also been married. On that date, under cover of darkness, fifty converts ventured from their hiding-places, and met at the mission house, where, at midnight, they united in remembering the Lord's death.
The king called for his fortune-tellers, and ordered them to find out by the use of charms and devil worship if it would be safe for him to kill Mackay.
Mr. Ashe had at last been allowed to leave for England, and Mackay was alone.
Some of the friendly chiefs disapproved strongly. "No, you must not kill Mackay," they said, "he is your friend; he buried the old queen-mother, he buried Mtesa, he is a man of great wisdom." The king was angry, and said he would go with armed men and fight and kill Mackay, but the God in whom the lonely missionary trusted kept the wicked king from carrying out his threat.
The Arab traders, who had never forgiven Mackay for exposing their evil deeds and trying to put a stop to the slave trade, made many false charges against him, telling the king that white men would take his country and crown from him. The witch doctors were then ordered to bewitch Mackay and all the Christians in the country; but, as he wrote, "if they are content to stop at this, no harm will be done.”
Meanwhile things were not going well with the king. First he had sore eyes, for which, of course unjustly, he blamed Mackay; then his palace was burnt down, and all his goods lost. His gunpowder kegs, which he kept in a straw hut where a fire was constantly burning, blew up, and great damage was done. Many were killed by the explosion, and others wounded. His Majesty then took refuge with his head chief, but he had only been there a few days when the house was set on fire by lightning, and the powder exploded.
The king was now in a terrible fright, and said he was bewitched, and must kill Mackay. Food supplies often ran short, and anxiety, hard work, want of sleep, and frequent attacks of fever told greatly upon Mackay's health. One day, to his great surprise, the queen mother sent him a present of a fine fat cow, without begging for any gift in return.