As the Lammermuir headed for the English Channel, Hudson stood on the poop deck and committed the voyage to God. He was grateful that across the British Isles pockets of people were praying for them. It was true, many Christians had criticized the China Inland Mission and its ideas of trusting God alone, but as long as there were people committed to pray for them, Hudson was confident all would be well. When people questioned how he could lead a group that included nine single women into the heart of a heathen country without financial support, his answer was always the same: “I am taking my children with me, and I notice it’s not difficult for me to remember that they need breakfast in the morning, lunch at midday, and dinner before they go to bed. I find it impossible to believe our Heavenly Father is less tender or mindful than I am.”
“Excuse me, Dr. Taylor, but where should I put the spare rollers for the press? The hold is full.” It was James Williamson, and his question brought Hudson back to the present. There were still things that needed to be stowed away for the voyage. England was gone from view now; it was time to focus on matters at hand.
By Tuesday, everything was in order, and life settled into a routine. Hudson taught a Chinese language class every morning, and for a change of voice, Maria taught the class in the afternoon.
There was plenty of time in the late afternoon and early evening for other things. Everyone wrote letters, hoping a ship headed for England might come alongside and take them back. Otherwise, the letters would be mailed when they reached Shanghai.
Captain Bell had been right about the crew. They were rough and loud. The children had to be instructed to ignore their cursing. But as tough as the crew seemed, for the next four months, they were to be the mission field of the fledgling China Inland Mission.
Mary Bell began holding a nightly Bible study, and to her surprise, many of the sailors attended it. They came not so much because they were interested in what she had to say, but because she was pretty.
Louise Desgraz held Bible readings in Swedish for the four crew members from Sweden. Susan Barnes held classes for those who wanted to improve their reading, and a number of the crew began attending.
Hudson was delighted that he didn’t have to remind anyone in the group of his or her obligation to reach out to the crew with the Gospel message. Before they left England, he’d stressed to them that “a voyage across the ocean will not make anyone a soul winner.” By this he meant that a desire to share God’s love with everyone had to be in their hearts wherever they found themselves. Simply being given the title of missionary would not magically make them missionaries.
The group also found practical ways to help around the ship. As on the Dumfries, Hudson served as the ship’s doctor. He gave lectures on first aid, the circulation of the blood, and the construction of the eye, subjects that sailors would not have found very exciting on land, but in the middle of the ocean they drew quite a crowd.
Lewis Nicol forged parts for the crane hooks, while James Williamson and William Rudland tinkered with the bilge pumps until they worked perfectly. Slowly but surely, the missionaries began to win the begrudging respect of the crew.
The crew no longer complained about the hymn singing. In fact, they had heard some of the hymns so many times that they found themselves singing along without even realizing it! Then one or two of the crew began to have things to do around the ship’s saloon when the group were holding their meetings. They would splice rope or check a deck joint nearby. After a couple of weeks, they did not bother with excuses; they just pulled up a barrel outside the saloon and sat down and listened.
First one, then two, three, four, and more crewmen asked Jesus Christ into their lives and became Christians. Before the voyage was even half over, twenty-three crew members had become Christians. The young missionaries eagerly discipled the new converts. The crew asked Hudson to move his daily meeting out on deck because the saloon was becoming too cramped.
But the more the crew found peace with God, the less peace they found with the first mate, Mr. Brunton. He was second in command aboard the Lammermuir, and he didn’t like what was happening with his crew. Mr. Brunton had a bad temper, which, unfortunately for all on board, seemed to be touched off by any mention of religion. As time went by, he became increasingly angry and began bullying many of the new converts on his crew. Mr. Brunton soon became the focus of prayer for many people on board, both passengers and crew. And slowly, he began to soften. He began to allow Hudson to read passages from the Bible to him and explain their meaning. One night in August, Hudson read him the Passover story from the book of Exodus. When he came to the passage where God tells the Israelites to paint blood on the door posts so death would pass over their houses, Mr. Brunton jumped to his feet yelling, “‘When I see the blood it will pass over you.’ I see. I see. How blind I’ve been.”
Hudson was so excited he woke up John Sell and Elizabeth Rose, who had been praying hard for Mr. Brunton, and told them the good news of his conversion. John Sell looked at his pocket watch; it was three-thirty in the morning.
The next day, Mr. Brunton called the entire crew together and apologized to them for the way he’d been behaving. An amazing change took place in his life. From then on, he was at every meeting, singing as loud as he could, and he was usually the last to leave.
Hudson was excited at the influence his group was having on the crew. He wrote a letter to Mr. Berger and said, “Our minds are kept in peace as to the future. Were we never to reach China, we should all rejoice in the work God has done on the Lammermuir.”
When Hudson wrote the words, “Were we never to reach China,” he had no idea of the test that lay ahead for them all.
It was September 10; six more days and they would be in Shanghai. The crew was busy scrubbing the decks and painting the bulwarks (the railing and side of the ship above the deck), and preparing for their arrival. Hudson had rigged up a system so that the missionaries could pull buckets of sea water in through the port holes in their cabins and take a bath in a tin bathtub. They were each taking turns at having a bath, and Susan Barnes was giving everyone a haircut so they would look well-groomed on arrival. Emily Blatchley and Maria were busy patching the holes the young Taylor boys had worn in their pants crawling around the Lammermuir. Everyone was looking forward to their first glimpse of China.
But things weren’t right. The weather was beginning to get squally, and the barometric pressure was falling. Captain Bell didn’t say much about it at first. He hoped they were only heading into a light storm. Unfortunately, it wasn’t to be. The Lammermuir was directly in the path of a typhoon.
Captain Bell finally ordered everything on deck to be lashed down with ropes and the sails to be pulled down and stowed so they wouldn’t be torn to shreds by the wind. Having been through the nightmare of the storm on the Dumfries, Hudson calmed the fears of those in his party and helped them tie themselves into their bunks.
For two nights, the Lammermuir was tossed about mercilessly by the sea. Huge waves rolled across the decks and spilled water into the saloon. Then, as quickly as it had come, the storm left. Everyone came up on deck to survey the damage. From the look of things, it was just as well the storm had ended when it did: the Lammermuir couldn’t have stood much more of the sea’s pounding. The lifeboats had been washed away, and so had the pens where the animals were kept, along with the last few remaining animals. The ship was in need of repairs, but with calm seas and better weather, she would easily make it to her destination.
The next three days were spent drying out the sails, pumping the bilge, and tightening the rigging. Several barrels of food supplies had been soaked with saltwater and rain and were useless, so meals were meager. But being only a few days from Shanghai, no one was too worried. There would be plenty to eat when they reached the city.
Hudson was also glad they would be in Shanghai soon, but for another reason. Captain Bell had become ill. Hudson wasn’t quite sure what the problem was, but the left half of the captain’s face was paralyzed. An exact diagnosis of the problem required more medical equipment than was on board the Lammermuir. The sooner they got to Shanghai, the better.
That night, the barometric pressure began to drop again, and faster than it had before the previous storm. The crew and passengers held an urgent prayer meeting. If this storm was going to be worse than the last one, only God could get them through it. The battered Lammermuir was in no condition to battle her way through another storm.
By the time they had finished praying, the wind was howling across the decks, snatching up barrels of supplies as though they weighed nothing and hurling them into the ocean. One minute the ship was pointed towards the sky, and the next it was skidding down the face of a mountainous wave. Hour after hour the Lammermuir was slammed by enormous seas.
Every time someone from the crew appeared in the saloon, he had worse news than before. The bulwarks had been washed away. Now there was nothing to stop the waves, and soon they began washing across the deck and pounded against the saloon door.
Everyone longed for the storm to end. Passengers and crew were both at exhaustion level. But the storm just continued to gather strength.
After two days of battling the storm with no food and no sleep, the crew were losing hope. Captain Bell and Mr. Brunton could no longer motivate them to work. With the bulwarks gone, there was nothing to hold on to or protect them on deck, and any or all of them could be swept overboard in an instant. Even when the jib and fore staysails, the long pieces of wood that supported the bottoms of the sails, broke loose, the crew would not go out on deck to secure them.
The jib and fore staysails swung about dangerously in the wind. At any moment they could come crashing dawn. And if they did, they would go right through the deck, and the ship would surely sink.
As Captain Bell looked across the deck of his ship, his heart sank. It was the beginning of the end. The Lammermuir would not hold up to the pounding she was taking much longer. The hull seemed to creak louder with each passing hour. Still, sick as he was, he had to try to save his ship. Since the crew would not obey him, he and Mr. Brunton would have to do it alone. Together they climbed out onto the deck, hoping to grab the jib and fore staysails and tie them down. They crawled along, low to the deck, so the swinging jib would not knock them overboard. Just as they were getting ready to grab the jib, a massive wave struck the ship. The two men clung to the main mast with all their strength to avoid being washed away. Then came the cracking sound they did not want to hear. Above their heads, the mast they were clinging to snapped, and so did the mizzen mast. As the two masts fell, they tangled in the rigging, which stopped them from crashing right through the deck. As carefully as they could, Captain Bell and Mr. Brunton crawled to the saloon.
With two of her three masts broken and lying across the deck, the Lammermuir was beginning to break up. The fallen masts battered back and forth against the deck and the side of the ship, shattering whatever wood they hit into match-sized pieces.
“It is only a matter of time now, and not much at that. If only I could get the crew to help me, we might be able to cut the rigging away and let the masts go over the side, but it’s a long shot,” Captain Bell told Hudson, with panic in his voice.
Hudson and Maria kissed each one of their children goodbye and commended them to God. There were no lifeboats, and even if there were, they would be useless in these violent swells. The missionaries gathered close together in the middle of the saloon and began to sing “Rock of Ages.”
