Mwanga, whose intention, when he fled from Rubaga, had been to seek protection from the Fathers at Bukumbi, had been living at Magu with an Arab trader—more or less as a prisoner. On the rumour that the Arabs of Uganda meant to seize him and put him to death, he was allowed to escape, most of his possessions having been secured beforehand. With a number of his pages, who had remained faithful to him, he went straight to the mission at Bukumbi, where he begged on his knees for shelter and protection declaring that it was in punishment for his persecution of the Christians that God had deprived him of his throne. The Fathers received him kindly and gave him quarters in the native Christian village.
The project of founding another mission had been long under discussion. The West and most of the South coast were impossible, as they were more or less under the dominion of Uganda, while the East had been set against white influence by the Arabs. It was finally settled to found a station at Nyagesi, not far from Kamoga, in the country of the friendly chief Kiwanga, who had already given hospitality to the Christians. It was to be called "Our Lady of the Exiles," to show that the hope of returning to Rubaga had not been abandoned.
On the 15th of January, Father Lourdel and Brother Amans, with twenty or so of the strongest Uganda neophytes, started off to make the foundation. "Our house," wrote Father Lourdel "is close to the Lake, and looks towards the North — the road to Uganda, the direction in which our hearts are always turning." Groups of Christian fugitives came to them almost daily, until, at the beginning of April, the mission was a hundred strong. It now became possible to make some return to Kiwanga for his kindness. Fifty stalwart Christians of Uganda bore arms for him in a war stirred up against him by his nephew, and succeeded in turning the tide of battle in his favour.
Shortly afterwards another band arrived. There was great joy when it became known that the new arrivals were sent by Honorat Nyonyi Entono, who had taken refuge with the king of Usagara, where a number of the Christian neophytes and some of the pagans of Uganda had joined hint. He was now at the head of a band of some thousand men. His envoys brought news of Uganda. Kiwewa had been burned alive by his brother Kalema, the most savage of the family, and the Moslems, who had put Kalema on the throne, were guarding all the roads to prevent further flight of the Christians. A few had been killed, but the greater number had succeeded in escaping.
Father Lourdel's delight at seeing these old friends was tempered by the news that the position of Honorat and his band at Usagara was anything but safe, as the king alone was friendly to them, and at any moment he might be persuaded to change his mind by those who surrounded him. Honorat, moreover, believed himself to be strong enough to return to Uganda. "Since Mwanga is with you," he wrote, "and seems to be in such good dispositions, I think we might be able to put him back on the throne, more especially as the natives are beginning to feel that they did wrong in driving him out."
Mwanga was really sorry for his evil deeds, and anxious to do better. The rule of Kalema and the Arabs was unpopular with the people and death to the Christians. The proposition had much in its favour and Mwanga was ready to accept it. He left the mission with forty-five of his own pages and the Christian neophytes who had fled to Bukumbi. War broke out between him and Kalema, who, on hearing that the Christians were approaching the capital, had all his brothers and sisters burnt alive, lest one of them should be chosen ruler in his place.
As soon as Mwanga, who was humane compared to Kiwewa and Kalema, appeared in the country the pagan chiefs rallied to his side. After a good deal of fierce fighting the Arabs were driven out of the capital. Mwanga's mother, the Namasole, had been brought out to be put to death, was saved just in time, by the approach of the Christians.
“I went to see our old mission house," wrote Father Lourdel in October and found it completely ruined. Kalema has escaped to Unyoro. It is just a year since we were driven out, Mwanga is dividing the honours of the kingdom between the Protestants and the Catholics, as was arrange at Usagara." From all sides the Christians came flocking to greet their beloved "Mapera"; but the noblest of them all was missing. Honorat Nyonyi Entono had been killed in the war.
Peace was by no means established. Kalema was threatening an attack, and Mwanga, though grateful and well-meaning, was too weak to be entirely trusted. But he asked Father Lourdel to write in his name to the French, English, and German consuls at Zanzibar, offering friendship, apologising for the past, and announcing his desire to put an end to the slave trade in the country, which he would do, he said, if they would send him arms. Kalema, in the meantime, who had been re-mustering his forces, attacked Rubaga, defeated Mwanga's troops, and again took possession of the capital. Mwanga, together with the Christians, were obliged once more to fly, but early in 1890 his army retook Rubaga and replaced him on the throne. The "scrambling for Uganda" which took place between France, England, and Germany led to fresh complications; the French faction, consisting for the most part of the native Catholics; the English faction, consisting of the native Protestants; and the East African Company were all at variance.
In spite of all this, the work of the missionaries prospered. "If we only had a few days of peace," wrote Father Lourdel, at the beginning of the New Year, "to work for these people who show such a thirst for religion! A new year, even if it means new trials and new troubles, is to be prized. Its labours and struggles may serve to spread the work of God and to sanctify His servants."
That year was to be his last. Even his active spirit could no longer sustain a body so wasted with fever and sickness, in a work which was growing day by day more strenuous. A visit from Mgr. Livinhac in the March of 1890 was his last joy. The Bishop confirmed more than two hundred of the newly baptised converts and was able to count two thousand at the Sunday catechism class. Not only in the capital but in the surrounding country also, the converts were increasing. The number of Christians in Uganda at the beginning of the year was from ten to twelve thousand.
In April Father Lourdel had to say goodbye to his old friend and fellow-worker. It was a parting, for both men knew that it would be the last, but when Mgr Livinhac had gone, Father Lourdel threw himself with all his old zeal and energy into the building of a new church, and in May determined to go and meet two more White Fathers who were on their way to join him. It would be an opportunity, he thought, for visiting the other missions, which lay directly on him way, but the journey was never taken. The very day, he was to start he was stricken down with an attack of fever, aggravated by a return of the old malady which had nearly cost him his life at Tabora. His worn-out body could offer but little resistance to the progress of the disease and no remedy was of any avail. During that night he quietly made his preparation for death, and the next morning they said Mass in his room. He was perfectly conscious and able to receive Holy Communion. He did not want to recover, he said, he was good for nothing. His only regret was that he had not been able to serve God better, and he begged them to lay him on the ashes to die. Some of the Christians were allowed to come into the hut to bid him farewell. He bade them remain faithful to their religion, and to pray for him, their country, and their king. In the evening he asked for Extreme Unction and answered all the prayers himself.
"Mapera is dying." The rumour flew through the country. All the Christians of the neighbourhood were at the door, begging to see him and to speak to him for the last time, but he was so weak that they had to be refused.
"At the hour of dawn,” wrote one who was present, "he said to us 'I shall die today.' Then once more he made the sacrifice of his life, told us his few last wishes, and asked us to pray for him. After that he spoke no more."
Mwanga sent word that he wanted to see him, and we replied that he must hurry, for the end was near. A. little before one o'clock Father Lourdel opened his eyes, looked up to heaven with a smile of intense joy, and passed peacefully away. Mwanga arrived a few moments later, speechless with sorrow. Mapera was dead.
"The news flew through the capital. Everyone hastened to the mission-house. Even the pagans begged to be allowed to see Mapera once more. All the night long the weeping crowds passed through the poor hut where we had laid him out. The king and the chiefs offered cloth with which to shroud him, according to the custom of the country. We refused, but some of them insisted so touchingly that we at last accepted what was offered as a token of respectful sympathy.
"We buried him close to the big church which he had begun to build, and the native Christians spent the day in erecting over the tomb a hut of reeds, as is the custom in Uganda. The Protestant missionaries came to offer their condolences. Gradually things became quiet again and we were able to measure the extent of our loss — not ours alone, but Uganda's. He had come back to that Uganda which he loved, to die among his children, for whom he had spent his life."
In August, 1912, the cause of the "twenty-two Venerable Servants of God, Charles Luanga, Mathias Marumba and their companions," was formally introduced, and in June 1920 the ceremony of Beatification was solemnised by Pope Benedict XV in St. Peter's at Rome.
“From
the lips of these poor ignorant natives, at the moment of trial,"
wrote Cardinal Lavigerie after the martyrdoms, "came words no less
sublime than those of the martyrs of Roman Carthage. In this our Africa,
some sixteen hundred years ago a generous band of Christians won their
martyr’s crown. They were called the 'massa candida,' — the
white Company—from the shroud of lime which covered them. And from
far down the centuries another band, which may well be called—if
only from its shroud of blackened embers—the black Company, answers
their challenge.""The vast Basilica, with its glowing cohorts of cardinals and bishops in their scarlet and purple robes," writes a witness of the ceremony of Beatification, "the throngs of priests and religions, the surging crowd of the faithful, the altar and sanctuary ablaze with festal lights, the stately columns festooned with gorgeous gold-fringed hangings, and dominating that variegated crowd, the solemn pronunciation of the decree that adds yet one more glorious group to the Church’s Beati—these things have often been told.
“But there is an inner significance about this solemnity that it is hard even for Catholics to measure in its fullness, for it is once more the triumphant vindication of the Catholic Church in the most glorious of all settings as the Mother of all the faithful, whatever their colour and race. This day sees the admission to the ranks of her Beati, those heroic African sons of hers who are the youngest of her blessed. Even as they, the boyish pages of a heathen monarch, were among the most youthful of her martyrs.
Above : Left : The two survivors of Namugongo at the time of the Beatification in Rome.
"Proud indeed, with a holy pride, are the White Fathers who have come from Uganda to assist at the Beatification of their converts. For they were the first-fruits of the White Fathers' early Mission, these gallant blacks, who faced so heroically the torments of a fiery death in the courts of the tyrant Mwanga. Nor do the White Fathers come alone to the Beatification of their Martyrs; with them in St. Peter's stand two Uganda natives, Nsingisira and Kamyuka (pictured above), one of whom, as a boy, was himself condemned to the flames but reprieved at the last moment—with those twenty-two heroes who, led by Charles Luanga, were burned to death wrapped in bundles of reeds over a slow fire.
"Little did the survivor dream, when he escaped from his brethren's fate, that nearly half a century later he would assist at their triumph as beati Rome itself."' (Quote from The Universe, June 11th, 1920)
. . . In the year 1894 the Holy See created a new Vicariate in Uganda—the Vicariate of the Upper Nile—placing it in the charge of the priests of St. Joseph's Society for Foreign Missions, founded in 1866 at Mill Hill by Cardinal Vaughan.
In 1893 Uganda had passed under the protection of the British Government. All the Catholic missionaries, up to that date, had been French, while the Protestant missionaries were all English. It was necessary to rectify the idea that religion depended on nationality, and that the French were as inevitably Catholic as the English, who represented the ruling Power, were Protestant.
Bishop Hanlon, the first Vicar Apostolic of the new Vicariate, brought the first little band of English Catholic missionaries to Uganda in the May of 1895. The White Fathers gave them hearty welcome, acted as their interpreters to the king and native officials, and helped them to build a church and dwelling house on the site given by Mwanga. It was explained to him and the rest of the natives that the new missionaries, while they were of one race with the resident British officials, were of the same religion as the White Fathers.
1 The chief College of St. Joseph's Society for
Foreign Missions for English speaking missionaries is at Mill Hill,
London. There are seven other Colleges in Holland, Italy, and Austria,
and one at Freshfield, near Liverpool.
2 The Apostolic School for English Boys, at Bishop’s Waltham, established
later by the White Fathers, was not then in being.
A decree of 1895 attached all the regions under
British rule to the Vicariate of the Upper Nile. It was a vast region
and the work which lay before the new missionaries was stupendous.
All the Catholic chiefs were in the Vicariate of the White Fathers,
and the chiefs of the new Vicariate were Protestants, Mohammedans or
pagans. Though the work was hard it was fruitful.
"All through these difficult beginnings," writes Bishop Biermans
in his Short History of the Vicariate of the Upper Nile, "the
White Fathers gave unstintedly of their valuable assistance and experience,
and forgot their own needs in their thoughtfulness for our earliest
missionaries. Anything that could possibly be done was done by them
to put the new mission on a firm footing.”
Missions—not without much labour and many hardships—were founded
far and wide. Through famine, war, and sickness—the terrible sleeping
sickness which devastated the country—the work grew and prospered.
Nuns came out to both Vicariates to help in the work.
In 1912, Bishop Biermans, who had laboured for thirteen years in Uganda,
was made Vicar Apostolic of the Vicariate of the Upper Nile. The field
was white unto harvest, but the labourers were few. "I turned,"
he writes, "to the dark and cloudy background and saw in fancy
the outstretched arms of ignorant and little known tribes pleading with
me to lead them out of the darkness in which they groped into the Light
of God's love. I longed to lead them out of the land of Egypt and out
of the house of bondage, but to help them then was not within the realm
of possibility. I heard them cry for churches, but could not build them
one. I heard them cry for priests, but could not send them one . . .
. . ”
Native nuns were introduced from the Vicariate of the White Fathers,
who had already started a native seminary, which in 1919 contained ninety—five
students, some of whom—though the course of preparation is necessarily
long—are at present doing splendid work among their own people.
In this lies the hope of the country, but before a native priesthood
can be created to minister to the needs of the great number of Catholics,
and the greater number still who are waiting for the priceless gift
of the Faith, much devoted labour is required.
"The harvest indeed is great, but the labourers are few. Pray ye
therefore the Lord of the Harvest, that he send forth labourers into
His harvest."
The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church, and surely the Church
of Uganda had a glorious foundation. Yet on that spot where the heroic
young martyrs of Uganda laid down their lives for Christ, a spot dear
to the Christians, who gather there to pray, stands only a simple cross,
fenced about with a rail. A simple cross!
Through all these years the poverty of the mission of Uganda has been
such that even the first stone of the church that will some day, please
God, be built in their honour, has not yet been laid.