Arrival of Mary Smith at the Cape
The Deputation had a prosperous journey, travelling, as everybody did then, in ox waggons, and visiting the line of stations which lay along through the eastern districts as far as Bethelsdorp. Drastic measures were adopted, healthy reforms effected, and the Missions were put upon a new footing. At Bethelsdorp the party found its further progress effectually barred. War with the Kafirs had broken out, and there was no way to visit Kaffraria. This was a providential circumstance for Moffat. Dr. Philip, having no further work to keep him in the eastern province, returned to Cape Town, taking Moffat with him, who had thus the unspeakable happiness of being able in person to welcome his Mary when she first landed on the shores of Africa.
“Cape Town, Dec. 8, 1819.
“My dear Parents, — From this far-distant land I sit down this morning to address you, being informed that a vessel is to sail at two o’clock to-day for England. Before I proceed, however, I must warn you not to expect me to write an interesting letter, as the change of scene and circumstances which has burst upon me renders my mind confused and agitated. I will begin by bearing testimony to the goodness of that God who brought me out from my father’s house to this land of heathen darkness, to which my eyes and my heart have been so long directed. He has granted us delightful weather all the voyage, and made me with His own presence unspeakably calm and happy ever since I embarked....
“Thus you see my God has delivered me from the perils of the sea, which are truly great, such as no heart can conceive but those who have been there. I have enjoyed excellent health all the way, excepting my headache, which has been very bad for the last two months. I had good spirits all the time. I suppose none was more cheerful than I. Our captain kept us well, but 1 cannot say we vere very agreeable company, there being one continued scene of jangling but I generally managed to steer pretty clear. We had Divine service every Sabbath day, when the weather would permit, in the cabin, but not on deck. The captain is unfavourable to these things. Mr. Beck paid me every necessary attention. From some of the passengers I received the most respectful attentions. My fellow-passengers pronounced me the fittest person on board to go into the interior — I bore everything so well both mentally and bodily. You will not, my dear parents, suspect me of want of affectionate solicitude about you when I tell you I was so happy. No, surely you know me better; but I did not think it incompatible with that cheerfulness that reigned in my breast sometimes to weep and to mourn when I thought of you and each of my dear brothers (not to mention my numerous friends in England). I do confess that often during the silent hours of darkness, when the angry billows beat against my cabin with tremendous roar, at such moments I turned my thoughts to you and your dear dwelling. Then my imagination would rove till my heart sickened and floods of tears drenched my face. There is something inconceivably cutting in the reflection (to nature) that for many years at least there is an ocean between us, and that personal intercourse has ceased, but even from these piercing reflections I was enabled to derive consolation. It was for the cause of the Redeemer I had forsaken all. This I accounted my highest honour, and it was this consideration that enabled me to take down my harp from the willows and tune it to His praise.
“Having parted from you all, my affection felt weaned from the world; and there being an uncertainty whether on my arrival here my dear friend would be alive, I felt prepared for anything. But oh! my cup of happiness seems almost full; here I have found him all that my heart could desire, except his being almost worn out with anxiety, and his very look makes my heart ache. Our worthy friend Melville met me on board, and conducted me to his house, where a scene took place such as I never wish to experience again. We have received each other from the Lord, and are happy....
“Moffat will conclude this letter, and I will write very soon more particularly; my time is now expired, and I can say no more. But, mother, be happy, and praise God on my account.”
Robert Moffat to Mr. and Mrs. Smith of Dukinfield.
Dear Father and Mother, — I can now with more reason than in my former letter address you with the endearing title of parents. It would be in vain for me to call to mind the different scenes through which I have passed, but more particularly what I felt when the sound of your beloved daughter’s arrival had reached me. It was to me nothing less than life from the dead. My prayers answered, the promises which had long been my refuge were now fulfilled. My prayers in that respect are now turned to praise, and surely never in my life has the hand of God been so singularly manifested for good.
“Mary, my own dear Mary, is now far distant from a land endeared to her, being the place which gave her birth, and which still contains a circle of friends who are entwined round her heart; but more especially endeared as the residence of you, dearer than all besides. She is now separated from those scenes and from you, but let this comfort you, that, although in a land of strangers, she is under the care of our ever-present God, and united to one who speaks as he feels when he promises to be father, mother, and husband to Mary, and will never forget the sacrifice you have made in committing to his future care your only daughter.
“When I last wrote you, from Swellendam, the affairs of the mission were almost buried in a cloud of gloom, which obliged me to be silent on that subject; but how do I rejoice to be now able to tell you that those seasons of sadness are in a great measure turned into joy. The gloom is dispersed; but ah I shall I tell you that from the general wreck a few, and only a few, have survived the sad catastrophe.
“We were disappointed in our intended journey into the interior from the state of the Kafirs, now in a considerable measure appeased. Nothing but the gospel will make the Kafirs good neighbours. We were no farther than Theopolis, from which place we returned direct to Cape Town. The Deputation having destined me to superintend the mission at Lattakoo, and having empowered me to set to rights the affairs of our missions in that quarter, Mr. Campbell thought seriously of returning to England, having done all that was essential to be done by him in Africa; but the whole depended on the early arrival of Mary. He is now completely engaged, and I have some reason to think that he will accompany us to Lattakoo, for he is now all on fire about going. The warm season is approaching, but I intend to proceed in a few weeks with or without Mr. Campbell. Dr. Philip will remain for the present to settle other important affairs.”
They were married on the twenty-seventh of December, 1819, in St. George’s Church. Dr. Philip took the place of the absent father; and the Melvilles, ever ready when an act of kindness was to be done, opened their house to the company. Writing to her brother John a few days later, Mary Moffat says:
“There was an expression in myfathei-’s letter which rather grieved me: it was that in one sense I was dead to them. Now I think they ought not to consider me so. Surely it ought to afford consolation that I am now united to a devoted servant of God, one who counts not his life dear to himself. They can hear of me, and I trust that they will hear that I am of some little use in the world. Is not this better, to be a succourer of those who are labouring, than to lie down in the grave without having done anything towards the building of the temple? I trust you will endeavour to remove this impression. Cheer their hearts, and never indulge any melancholy fears respecting me. I can assure you every provision is made for my comfort whick is possible, and the Deputation afford Moffat every facility. At the same time, I wish ever to be reasonable in my expectations and cheerfully to take up the cross.
‘* 1 find missionaries are greatly despised here, and indeed it is not to be wondered at after the conduct of some, but I think I can say —
* All hail reproach 1 and welcome shame 1
If thou remember me.’
Before I bid adieu to home with all its delights, I calculated upon a life of hardships, toil, shame, and reproach, and now my soul can bid it welcome for the sake of Christ.”