After little more than a year in Devonshire, Hannington was appointed curate in charge of St. George's, Hurstpierpoint, near Brighton. By his earnestness he roused the people to a fuller faith and to better works. Finding much drunkenness in the place he turned teetotaler, and persuaded many to sign the pledge. He started Bible classes, prayer meetings, and mothers' meetings. Not only was he a shining light in his own parish, but he also went about the country and assisted at revival missions, showing himself everywhere a bright and helpful minister of the Gospel.
In the year 1878 Hannington heard of the violent deaths which had befallen Lieut. Shergold Smith and Mr. O'Neil in Central Africa. From this time he became drawn towards mission work in that district.
It was not, however, till the year 1882 that he finally entered into arrangements with the Church Missionary Society to go to Africa.
Their high estimation of his capacities may be gathered from the fact that he was appointed as leader of the expedition which was being sent out.
It was a horrible wrench at last to leave wife and children. "My most bitter trial," he writes—"an agony that still cleaves to me—was saying good-bye to the little ones. Thank God the pain was all on one side. 'Come back soon, papa!' they cried." His wife had resolutely made up her mind to give him to God, and was brave to the last.
"When at length the ship left England I watched and watched the retreating tow-boat," he continues, "until I could see it no longer, and then hurried down below. Indeed, I felt for the moment as one paralysed. Now is the time for reaction—to 'cast all your care upon Him'."
Strangely enough, both his missionary journeys in Africa failed in their original aim, which was to reach the kingdom of Uganda.
In the first journey the expedition started from the coast at the end of June, 1882. After two months' difficult marching into the interior, amidst the constant difficulties which beset the African traveller, he writes on 1st August: "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".
On, on they went. Fever was so heavy upon him that his temperature reached 110 degrees; but still he struggled forward, insisting upon placing a weary companion on the beast which he ought himself to have ridden.
By 4th September they reached Uyui, a place which was still far distant from Lake Victoria (or Victoria Nyanza); and now he was at death's door. So intense was the pain he suffered that he asked to be left alone that he might scream, as that seemed to bring some relief.