Mary Slessor of Calabar: Pioneer Missionary | Page 3

XXI.
TRIBUTE AND TREASURE
CHAPTER XXII.
SEEN AND UNSEEN
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE ALABASTER BOX

ILLUSTRATIONS
Mary M. Slessor Calabar Mission Field in 1876 Miss Slessor and some
of the People of Ekenge Calabar Chief of the Present Day Calabar
Sword King Eyo's State Canoe The First Church in Okoyong--at Ifako
Miss Slessor's Mission House at Ekenge "Ma's" Quarters at Akpap The
Tragedy of Twins The Okoyong Household in Scotland Native Court in
Okoyong Calabar Mission Map of the Present Day A Glimpse of the
Enyong Creek Itu, showing the Beach where the Slave-market was held

Court House at Ikotobong "Ma," with the Material for the Native Oath
at her Feet Administering the Native Oath to a Witness The
Government Motor Car Miss Slessor's Heathen Friend, Ma Eme One of
Miss Slessor's Bibles Miss Slessor's Silver Cross The House on the
Hill-top at Odoro Ikpe The Last Photograph of the Household

FIRST PHASE
1848-1876. Age 1-28.
A SCOTTISH FACTORY GIRL
_"It was the dream of my girlhood to be a missionary to Calabar_."
I. SAVED BY FEAR
When the founding of the Calabar Mission on the West Coast of Africa
was creating a stir throughout Scotland, there came into a lowly home
in Aberdeen a life that was to be known far and wide in connection
with the enterprise. On December 2, 1848, Mary Mitchell Slessor was
born in Gilcomston, a suburb of the city.
Her father, Robert Slessor, belonged to Buchan, and was a shoemaker.
Her mother, who came from Old Meldrum, was an only child, and had
been brought up in a home of refinement and piety. She is described by
those who knew her as a sweet-faced woman, patient, gentle, and
retiring, with a deeply religious disposition, but without any special
feature of character, such as one would have expected to find in the
mother of so uncommon a daughter. It was from her, however, that
Mary got her soft voice and loving heart.
Mary was the second of seven children. Of her infancy and girlhood
little is known. Her own earliest recollections were associated with the
name of Calabar. Mrs. Slessor was a member of Belmont Street United
Presbyterian Church, and was deeply interested in the adventure going
forward in that foreign field. "I had," said Mary, "my missionary
enthusiasm for Calabar in particular from her--she knew from its
inception all that was to be known of its history." Both she and her
elder brother Robert heard much talk of it in the home, and the latter
used to announce that he was going to be a missionary when he was a
man. So great a career was, of course, out of the reach of girls, but he
consoled Mary by promising to take her with him into the pulpit. Often
Mary played at keeping school; and it is interesting to note that the
imaginary scholars she taught and admonished were always black.

Robert did not survive these years, and Mary became the eldest.
Dark days came. Mr. Slessor unhappily drifted into habits of
intemperance and lost his situation, and when he suggested removing to
Dundee, then coming to the front as an industrial town and promising
opportunities for the employment of young people, his wife consented,
although it was hard for her to part from old friends and associations.
But she hoped that in a strange city, where the past was unknown, her
husband might begin life afresh and succeed. The family went south in
1859, and entered on a period of struggle and hardship. The money
realised by the sale of the furniture melted away, and the new house
was bare and comfortless, Mr. Slessor continued his occupation as a
shoemaker, and then became a labourer in one of the mills.
The youngest child, Janie, was born in Dundee. All the family were
delicate, and it was not long before Mary was left with only two sisters
and a brother--Susan, John, and Janie. Mrs. Slessor's fragility prevented
her battling successfully with trial and misfortune, but no children
could have been trained with more scrupulous care. "I owe a great debt
of gratitude to my sainted mother," said Mary, long afterwards.
Especially was she solicitous for their religious well- being. On coming
to Dundee she had connected herself with Wishart Church in the east
end of the Cowgate, a modest building, above a series of shops near the
Port Gate from the parapets of which George Wishart preached during
the plague of 1544. Here the children were sent to the regular
services--with a drop of perfume on their handkerchiefs and gloves and
a peppermint in their pockets for sermon-time--and also attended the
Sunday School.
Mary's own recollection of herself at this period was that she was "a
wild lassie." She would often go back in thought