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Eighty Years through Peace and War Written in 1959 and privately printed in 1963 An extract from this book follows the Introduction. It concerns Mabel Hunt (1875-1969) and her time as a missionary and lay worker in South Africa from 1929-1939, and has been lightly edited by her great niece, Penelope Wilkins kweba@bigpond.com).
Introduction
Mabel took up parish duties and taught her two youngest sisters, first in Milton Ernest, Bedfordshire, where the family had moved after their father's death, and then in Feering where they moved seven years later. At the age of 28, Mabel left her country life to train at the Children's Hospital, Paddington Green, London W2 for three months in 1903 and then at the Victoria Children's Hospital, Tite Street, Chelsea, London, SW3 from 1903 to 1906, where she qualified as a Certified Nurse. After three months' experience as a District Nurse in Felmersham, Bedfordshire, she nursed at the Jenny Lind Hospital, Norwich, Norfolk from 1907 to 1912, first as Sister in the Children's Medical Ward where she also trained probationary nurses and then, from 1910, as Sister-in-Charge of the Outpatients. During this period, she also successfully studied massage. Wishing to acquire experience in administration and housekeeping, Mabel found a job in 1912 as Lady Superintendent at St Katharine's College, Tottenham, London N17, a Church-run teacher training college for girls. She worked there until 1914, catering for live-in teachers and domestic staff, collecting student fees, doing some accounting and organising student recreation and other activities. At the outbreak of the First World War in August 1914, Mabel joined the Royal Red Cross and was ordered to Dunkirk, France on 22 November 1914. Returning to England in 1915, she nursed in a small Red Cross hospital in Frant, Kent (now East Sussex) for a few months before being sent to Paris Plage, Etaples, France later in the year. She was transferred to La Panne, Belgium in 1916 and nursed there until 1917, when she returned to England once more, this time to Welbeck Abbey, Nottinghamshire from 1917 to 1919. She was awarded the Associate Royal Red Cross Medal (ARRC) in early 1918, which was presented to her by King George V at Buckingham Palace later that year. No longer wanting to be a nurse, Mabel became a masseuse at a small clinic in Farnham, Surrey from 1920 to 1922. During this time she attended weekly medical electricity certificate classes in London to further her career and, on passing, was qualified as a physiotherapist. Mabel was appointed Sister-in-Charge, Massage & Electrical Department, Guildford General Hospital, Surrey in 1922. A year or so later, she set up her own private masseuse rooms, first in a rented house near the hospital, and two years later in her own four-bedroom house, which also allowed her to take in paying guests. Her work included visiting country patients, her transport being a lady's motor bicycle for two years and then a car. Mabel now takes up her story.
Missionary work, South Africa, 1929-1939
Before being accepted as a missionary to work for the Church in South Africa, I had various interviews with a clergyman, a doctor and a woman. They had to decide whether I would be useful and, if so, be able to fit one of the vacant posts where help was required. The SPG also sent a searching questionnaire to two of my friends and relations to make sure I was a suitable person to help in the mission field. I believe my training as a nurse and physiotherapist influenced the authorities in deciding they could make use of my services and I was accepted. They asked me whether I could pay for my first passage to South Africa and this I agreed to do. I also sold my [physiotherapy] practice and rented out my house to a young masseuse. These paid for my ticket and left a margin for travelling expenses. Soon after the interview I was sent to the Wantage Community Sisterhood [Berkshire, now Oxfordshire] for two weeks where there was a small hostel for six student missionaries preparing for church work overseas. We learned how to get ready the altar for Holy Communion, how to arrange the vestments for the officiating priest and the meaning of the clothing, and attended daily services. The Sister who was our instructress had delightful manners and made my short stay at Wantage a happy interlude. A few weeks later I attended a farewell service in the chapel at SPG House where I and another candidate were given blessings at the close of the midday intercession service attended by the office staff. Then came the day in 1929 for sailing to South Africa but owing to the postponement of the P&O boat we were to go on, we passengers were transferred to a German ship. There were Dutch travellers for the Belgian Congo speaking very ugly French of Flemish, Afrikaans (i.e. Dutch descendants born in Africa and speaking English and Afrikaans) and a good number of British, some to settle in South Africa and some to take up posts as teachers or nurses, and a few missionaries. The German captain was very much respected. His habit of dining alternatively with the first, second and third class passengers was a very popular move. We stopped at Madeira, Walvis Bay, Cape Town, Port Elizabeth and finally, my destination, East London.
St Mathews College, Near King William's Town - 1929-1931
The mission station was situated on a plateau completely surrounded by low hills. There was a fine avenue of gum trees leading down to the large, well-built brick church. The hostel for 80 boys training as teachers was near the church and was in the charge of a layman who lived on the premises to keep order. A fine elderly lady of Dutch descent who had worked at the mission since she was eighteen managed its dining hall and catering. She had earned the love and respect of hundreds of scholars who had passed out of the college during her reign. An English lady, Miss Cotton, lived with her and kept the little post office close to their house where she had trained an African boy to be her assistant. There were two other houses nearby, one for an English teacher and his wife and the other for the Scotch carpenter and his wife. (The boys were taught carpentering every afternoon for their manual work.) On the other side of the plateau there was some farmland cultivated for the mission and a house ready for a doctor to live in, when one could be found, to take charge of the small hospital. Beyond the hospital was the large hostel for 60 girls training to be teachers and most ably controlled by their warden, Miss Agnes Beale whom the girls respected and loved, calling her their Little Mother. Miss Beale was assisted by an English lady responsible for the African women cooks, the general order of the dormitories and the rooms and meals of the two African teachers. This assistant's job was the post assigned to me by the SPG in England for which I had agreed to come to South Africa while she was on leave. However, Reverend Grant had other ideas for me. The morning after my arrival, knowing of my nursing qualifications, he asked me whether I would be willing to help at the little hospital. The sister-in-charge was overworked because of an outbreak of typhus fever and she only had two African probationers to help her. He considered that a second European sister was urgently needed and told me he could easily fill the post of assistant at the Girls' House if I would consent to live at the hospital. It seemed to me to be impossible to refuse though I had no wish to get back to hospital life after my experiences in war hospitals from 1914-1919. After I agreed, he took me to see the sister-in-charge and showed me the small rondavel that was to be my bedroom built just behind the hospital. I was rather frightened about African life and had an uneasy idea that Africans all carried knives and were hostile to Europeans. During the first month I was quite worried because my bedroom hut had no fastening inside the door and anyone could have walked in but as soon as I asked for safety the carpenter put a safety hook and hasp inside the mosquito wire door. I felt much more secure after that was done. A few days later, while I was still very green and unused to Africans, the sister-in-charge asked me to walk a quarter of a mile to the house of the African priest to ask him to come and visit a very sick patient. It was getting dark and I imagined that I was in danger of meeting an African assassin but I said my prayers and returned safely. After a few weeks among the Africans I found they were all friendly to us, never carried firearms and were a law-abiding crowd. I must not omit to mention something about the church, which was filled by the 120 students and several staff every Sunday. The good African priest who preached to the villagers in their own tongue also assisted Reverend Grant. All the students understood English and the lessons were read in English so language trouble did not occur for the European helpers. One innovation I was sorry to notice, namely, at the bottom of the nave in the church, instead of a font there was a large bath sunk into the floor and baptisms were administered by immersion. I thought this practice would create difficulty in the minds of future African priests and teachers when they lived in other places where baptism at the font was practiced and they might be inclined to doubt the validity of all other baptismal rites. However, that was not my responsibility and rested with the Bishops of the Province of the Church of South Africa. I found life in the hospital very unsatisfactory and I was glad, after five months, to be the Warden at the Girls' House while Miss Beale went to England on six months' furlough. I soon learnt it had excellent organisation and played a really useful part of the missionary college. As Christmas holidays approached I was surprised to learn that all teachers and helpers from the Girls' House were expected to go away. This was rather an unexpected expense but I was told that the Sisterhood at Grahamstown would welcome all missionaries to their guesthouse. I set off by train with a Miss Morgan and on arrival the sisters gave us a kind welcome. They had a lovely chapel where we could appreciate the Christmas services and we got to know more than 20 other missionaries also having their Christmas holiday with the Sisterhood. At one point on the return journey a landslide halted the train for six hours. Reverend Grant's declaration when we arrived at the College has always remained with me. He said: 'You have experienced one of the vicissitudes that may occur at any moment in South Africa and you have had your first lesson in patient waiting.' Before Miss Beale left she had warned me that if the students suddenly became dead silent I would know that something was wrong and not long after her departure I experienced this very thing. One of the girls' duties each morning was the pounding of the mealies for their daily consumption. One morning there was the most unusual dead silence. I asked them, 'What is the matter?' 'Weevils in the mealies,' they grumpily replied. I instantly answered: 'No one wants you to cook weevils. Throw them to the birds and I will open the new tank of mealies.' Immediately the silence was broken and smiles returned to their faces. (It is always possible that, at the bottom of the mealie tanks, the weevils have started to contaminate the last few pounds left.) I had to teach the Acts of the Apostles to the senior girls three early mornings during the week and at the end of the term set the students their examination paper. I studied for the lectures with the help of Harnacks commentary*, enjoyed the experience and found the girls intelligent and interested. Here again, I had been warned by Miss Beale. This time she advised not to encourage too many questions because the girls took a special delight in questioning until one may be caught in a trap prepared by them. So, as with the 'deadly silence' advice, I was on the lookout. The girls soon knew I was aware of their little tricks and respected me (and others) for not being taken in. [*Sourced from Everyman's Encyclopaedia 1961. Harnack, Adolf von (1851-1930), theologian and historian, b. Dorpat, Estonia, where his father, Theodosius H., was prof. of pastoral theology. H. was prof. at Marburg, 1886-9, and at Berlin, 1889-1924. He lectured on Gnosticism and the Apocalypse. The first vol. of his epoch making work, Lehrbuch der Dogmengeschichte, was pub. in 1885. In it H. traced the rise of dogma. In 1893 he pub. a hist. of early Christian literature down to Eusebius, - in 1902 some interesting and important N.T. studies, trans into Eng. as Luke the Physician and The Sayings of Jesus. H.'s distinctive characteristic is his claim for absolute freedom in the study of Church hist. and the N.T. In 1914 he was ennobled. See life by Agnes von Zahn-Harnac, [H.'s daughter], 1936.] I found life full of surprises and never knew what new duties might be waiting for me. I certainly never imagined that a butcher's job would fall to my lot. The African women who helped in the kitchen and dining room knew how to serve the mealies but not the thrice-weekly meat, which they chopped off a carcase in strange lumps. Neither they nor the European housekeeping assistant had any knowledge about how to deal with half a side of beef or mutton so I gave them lessons in carving and supplying 60 hungry girls with equal portions of meat and fat. Agnes Beale had also warned me about how she often had to fight battles for the girls because they so often took second place to the boys and, needless to say, I experienced this as well. The background to my particular problem was this. On Saturday afternoons the boys had a cricket match, sometimes against other colleges, when they liked the girls to come and watch them play. Benches were ready for them and a welcome given from the prefects. One Saturday the girls unusually decided to stay at their huts and get on with ironing and outdoors employment. The following Saturday a distant cricket team came to play and the girls arrived to watch the match. However, they returned from the ground almost at once complaining that the boys had been very rude to them, not giving them their seats and refusing to speak to them because they had not attended the previous week to see their game. The girls were really angry and decided that unless they received an apology for the boys' rudeness they would decline to wash and iron their laundry, that being voluntary work, which a good many of the girls undertook for their brothers and male cousins. In view of these events I had to write to the man in charge of the Boys' House. To my surprise I found he had encouraged the boys in their behaviour and refused to send any apology so the matter was referred to Reverend Grant. Here, again, I had a surprise because he favoured the boys and did not insist on any apology but was inclined to blame the girls for refusing to undertake the boys' laundry. The girls had a meeting about the matter and I tried to get them to calm down. Here I had the very efficient help of my head girl whom I left to talk to them after I had finished my appeal, and, eventually, we succeeded in restoring peace. I came to the conclusion that the man in charge of the Boys' House was not the right man for the job or the right influence to be a leader in such a responsible post. Later on I heard that he had left the College and was succeeded by a more suitable candidate. Before I continue the account of my missionary life in South Africa, I must mention my first and most lasting friend I made in South Africa: Miss Holyoak at St Matthews. Before I arrived, she had for many years happily kept the accounts for the Girls' House in the morning and taught the girls gardening and needlework in the afternoon. She was still there when I left South Africa in 1947 and we remained lifelong friends.
Motito, Bechuanaland - 1931-1935
From Kimberley I went by train to Vryburg station where the priest with whom I had to work met me. He and I travelled 65 miles by motorbus and then alighted at a desolate spot on the veld where he told me 'His Majesty's Mail' would take my luggage and me 18 miles on to my destination. I looked around expecting to see a large red mail van but to my astonishment was introduced to a coloured man in mufti [his own clothes, not a uniform] with his tiny little homemade cart drawn by two mules. (I learned that he brought the mail to Motito every Wednesday and took our own mail on the return journey.) After about nine miles into our journey, the mules were exchanged for two small ponies and we resumed my bumpy drive in the tiny cart with one of my trunks tied on the back. It was very strange country to me after the trees and hills round St Matthews College near King William's Town. The land was as flat as a pancake and we drove through long grass on what seemed to me an invisible track but perfectly visible to the ponies and driver. It was also lay at quite a high altitude. After driving for 18 miles I suddenly saw a wire fence surrounding a hut with a corrugated iron roof and several made of mud bricks with reed-thatched roofs. A small church stood in the middle with the priest's hut and teachers' hut and the school being situated on one side of a playground. On the other side of the church, I saw my bedroom hut and the dining room hut both with reed-thatched roofs that overlapped the walls leaving an open space of 12 inches at the top of the walls. (I soon found out that this space was the path of ingress for hundreds of beetles and flying ants as soon as an oil lamp was lit. Whenever I had a quiet evening for writing letters I had to wear a hat and scarf to prevent them falling down my neck.) Soon after my arrival the priest and his wife and Miss X arrived. The latter suggested she return next day with the mail cart. However, I prevailed upon her to stay with me for the first week as the Bishop had told me because it was all so strange and she must help me to understand how the mission was run. It appeared that Miss X had not been happy here but, nevertheless, having money of her own, had done a good deal for the comfort of the mission. She had paid for the strong wire fence that encircled the mission to prevent goats eating up every green plant the priest was trying to grow in the dry and sandy soil. Miss X had supplied two very large soft [rain]-water tanks. Before then water had to be fetched from a pool and a spring situated 1½ miles across the veld and brought back safely in petrol tins on the heads of African girls. At the time of severe drought when the water tanks dried out this was our only means of getting water. This happened during my first six months at Motito when there was a very serious drought. The heat was intense and no one stirred during the middle of the day. The Africans and Europeans at the mission always had an hour's siesta. When I had my interview with the Bishop of Kimberley he told me that one must have a daily rest in the very trying climate and that we could not lead the same active life as we did in England. Later on in every mission station where I gave help, the bishop of each diocese insisted that every missionary should have one day off duty. The priests usually rested on Mondays after their strenuous Sunday services and we lay workers had a weekday off that fitted in with our responsibilities. I was glad to get this advice so that my conscience was satisfied and I kept in better health for the rest. Miss X instructed me in my duties regarding the housekeeping. She told me that an African girl came daily to cook meat and vegetables but I must bake puddings, buns and cakes if we wanted them. I was also to order the food once a week from the store situated 1½ miles away. The storekeeper was an old German who had been many years in South Africa and had been our ally during the 1914-1918 War, and was also the postmaster. He did good trade with the Africans for many miles around our district and was a kindly friend to our priest. He supported the mission by a yearly subscription though he did not attend our church. As soon as Miss X left I was informed of my duties in mission work. I was to take a daily scripture class in the church for the infants when the priest was taking the senior class in the school. A very intelligent 6th standard girl named Janet was my interpreter. There was one outstanding youngster who could always answer questions about the lesson taught on the previous day. With all the other infants every story or lesson had to be repeated twice before they could take it in, but young Stephen was the one exception to the rule. Before I left the mission in 1935 I told the priest I would help with the fees to send Stephen to the teacher training college near Vryburgh. It was a successful venture. He returned to help in his own district and was the teacher in a new mission school that had been opened by the priest. Ten years later I stayed at Motito for a week and was driven out to Stephen's school. I found him looking very tidy in grey flannels, collar, tie and his school blazer surrounded by about 30 young children. I hear he is still doing his schoolwork and has since married. It appears his one fault is getting into debt with the storekeepers. The teachers always started spending in excess of their monthly salary until they are reported to the unfortunate priest in charge of them. Almost as soon as I arrived in Motito about 10 African women approached my hut and said: 'Sister must please start the Mother's Union Society.' They told me that the Kuruman Mission 45 miles from Motito had an active one run by the deaconess who had written to ask me to go and live there. With the encouragement of the priest I instructed them about the Society and told them we would meet once each month as they do in England. 'No, Sister, we must meet every week, please.' So it turned out. After six months probation we had an impressive service of admission in the church when their membership cards were distributed at the altar rail by the European and African deacons. The women continued to be faithful to their membership for the 4½ years I lived there. The priest informed me of the working of his large mission area which stretched as far as the Kalahari about 50 miles from Motito. He visited there once a month and told me I was to accompany him and the boy driver of the ponies in the small two-wheeled cart. We would be a week away and staying each night in a different village. I was to pack enough bread, tinned food, medical aid, medicines and dressings for the four mission stations we visited. This packing became one of my monthly anxieties because wherever we stopped in an African village the supposedly sick folk rolled up and would not be satisfied unless I had provided at least one pill or spoonful of cough medicine, even when I could find no cause of illness. Over a Saturday and Sunday on these treks we stayed in a different European farmer's house so that our two ponies could have a night's rest before we started the long journey back to Motito. These farmers and their wives were wonderfully kind and generous to us and to about 20 neighbours who all arrived at midday on Saturdays when they had the tennis court marked out for the afternoon. We then spent a sociable evening after which the men would sleep in the barn and the women folk shared the bedrooms. We met early on Sunday morning for Holy Communion and at 11 o'clock several of the Dutch reformed Church families joined our matins, staying for the day at the farm. All the visitors brought food with them but the priest and I were not allowed to do so. We had various adventures during our monthly trek to the farms and four outlying stations. My first one was one afternoon during my first year at Motito when the priest and I had left our kind farmer hosts, Mr and Mrs Bloxham, and travelled back 12 miles to sleep at another European household where our ponies were resting. At about 8 p.m. the Bloxham's young assistant farming pupil arrived on horseback leading a second horse. He said to me, 'I have come to fetch you as Mr Bloxham has suddenly become very ill and I have come to ask your priest to allow you to return with me,' to which the priest consented. After a hasty meal we started off with me riding the second horse. It was pitch dark and I could not even see whether we were going up or down hill. The first farm we passed kept a tame ostrich and while we were speaking briefly to the owners, it bit my horse causing him to shy violently and nearly unseating me. As soon as we arrived at the Bloxhams, I attended the patient immediately and thought he had pleurisy. He was quite worn out with pain and sleeplessness and his wracking cough was so painful that either Mrs Bloxham or I had to be always present to support him until the spasm was over. None or our remedies of heat and aspirin helped at all so in the morning a neighbouring farmer drove off to Kuruman 25 miles away to fetch the doctor. When he arrived he was astonished to hear that the illness had only started on the preceding afternoon, as the patient was so exhausted. He gave him a sleeping draught and various remedies while Mrs Bloxham and I settled down to a four-hour watch in turn, night and day for several days. I am glad to relate that the patient recovered completely and never had another illness for many years. Another adventure was during the winter when a bitterly cold wind was blowing. Six miles from the faraway village of Mampe-Stadt in the Kalahari, the ponies refused to stir another yard [metre]. Nothing would move them. They were absolutely worn out pulling the cart because so much of the road was through heavy soft sand. The priest and I walked the remaining six miles while the chief of the village loaned us his oxen and men to bring the little cart onto the mission. Another incident was about six months after I had arrived at the mission. The Bishop of Kimberley came on our rounds and we travelled in his car with a driver. We had to wade across a shallow river to enter the village while the driver had to take the car on a 20-mile detour to get it to the other side. I was fortunate in having my rubber boots in the car but the bishop and the priest had to take off their shoes and socks. On this occasion a small deputation of Hottentots arrived at the mission to ask the bishop to build a school for their village, which was another 20 miles farther down the Kalahari veld. Their request was granted and a young 6th standard African Christian girl was established in that lonely spot. I have great admiration for the plucky way she settled down to her lonely life many miles from her home at Motito. I ought to tell you a little more about the spiritual life of the church. Every year there were new confirmation candidates and the bishop came to confirm both young and old. He had to be put up in my hut and I had to sleep behind the curtains in the dining-room hut. On one occasion he developed influenza immediately after the confirmation was over and I had to take care of him until he was able to drive himself and take the priest with him to open the 20 gates on his return drive to Kimberly. The bishop was one of the quiet, naturally dignified characters and was much liked and respected. Sometimes we found him a little too quiet and, as he never gave anyone a word of encouragement, we did not know if we were fulfilling our task to his satisfaction or not. At the end of my six-month's trial I had to ask him if he was willing for me to continue in my present work. The only comment he made was that the number of patients I was dealing with was certainly worthwhile. Every year during the 4½ years I was at Motito the number of patients increased so much that the government gave me £20 worth of simple drugs annually. With this money I as able to do a good deal of preventative work, especially dealing with eye trouble, baby ailments and simple bronchitis among the school children. Babies were inclined to suffer very bad chest complaints and often died. I came to the conclusion that when the babies travelled on their mothers' backs they were nice and warm wrapped in fourfold shawls, but when the mothers put them down on the ground they would get cold dressed only in a thin cotton shirt. Because of this, the year when I went to England on furlough [unpaid leave], I asked all my friends and acquaintances to knit me baby vests or wool jerseys. They responded so generously that I returned to Motito with a long trunk filled to the top with these gifts and I was able to give vests to three of the missions. Every baby would come for treatment wearing the garment and it certainly prevented serious illness among those infants. One day the priest remarked that the mortality among babies seemed to have ceased since my arrival. I was rather horrified that the children suffered from burns owing to carelessness of the parents. A child would have walked onto burning ashes or one would have fallen onto the open fire. One day the chief of a village 20 miles away arrived asking that I should come with him to a baby that had been seriously burnt. When I arrived on the pony he had brought I was horrified that the whole of the child's back was charred. It was impossible he could recover from the shock but there might not be much pain as the nerves were destroyed in that region. I then discovered that the parents were starving the poor little mite and he was, possibly, also dying of thirst, so I sent them for a drink and shall never cease to be glad that I went and relieved him. I told the parents to give him as much milk as he wanted and after dressing his back I was escorted home to the mission. On the motorbus back from one holiday, I was told there was a serious outbreak of influenza among the Africans. I asked a doctor on board the best way to treat them and he told me to give nothing but aspirin every four hours and to tell them to eat as many oranges as they liked. As soon as I reached Motito I heard that three of our young strong girls were all seriously ill in their huts and I must visit them immediately. When I took their temperatures, I found they were all over 103°F so I began the aspirin and orange treatment. I am glad to add that all recovered. Before I left for England on six-months' furlough after about three years at Motito, I noticed that farmers in our district were switching from horse transport to Morris Cowley cars. This change made me realise that a motorcar should replace the mission's two ponies and two-wheeled cart, so I began to work out how this could be done. I asked the bishop if he would sanction my collecting money while I was away to buy a car for our work. He agreed but added that the diocese would not be able to subscribe, as it never had sufficient funds in reserve. However, with the help of my mother, family and many friends and relations I managed to collect the money needed to buy a Ford V8 except for the last £30. So I called at Mary Sumner House in London, the headquarters of the Mothers' Union, and told them I was working for the Society in Bechuanaland and they kindly paid the extra sum that completed the deal. The car was ordered to meet me at Kimberley on my return from my holiday and I was most thankful to drive myself, the priest, luggage and stores back the 150 miles. Bechuanaland is not very interesting country to drive about in and one spent a lot of time opening and closing gates between the many farms. The priest had never learnt to drive a car and, in spite of six diving lessons in Kimberley, he still had no talent for machinery, so for the first year I was sole chauffeur. We were now, of course, able to go farther afield on our treks to mission stations, so much so that the farmers began to complain that we stayed too short a time when visiting them. They felt rather neglected when we pushed along on Sunday afternoon to give the African church an evening service. As with the two-wheeled cart and ponies, we had various adventures in our car. The first was when the Mashoing River suddenly filled up and we had to cross it several times on our way to the different missions. We became stuck completely in the river and the car had to be left there all night while we retreated to the small hut we had just left behind. Next morning the nearest storekeeper came to our aid and pulled the car through the flood with six oxen. During my last year at Motito, as I was descending one of the dry sluits [a deep, dry-river channel eroded by heavy rain], which was carpeted with uneven stones, the oil sum was punctured and had to be towed by the storekeeper to our nearest garage for repairs, 75 miles away in Vryburgh. Since I left Motito, the priest has learnt to drive and always managed to have a worn-out car replaced with a new one and not have to raise the money for one as I had done. We started a girls' guild in Motito village and their work was to do the church laundry every week. The ironing needed a good deal of arranging. A pail of wood ash heated the irons and our dining room table had to be taken backwards and forwards to the medical hut by the schoolboys each week for the girls' use. We had our Bible lesson in the church beforehand. The girls were pleasant to deal with and enjoyed their afternoon at the mission. The Mothers' Union members cleaned the church, which meant a good deal of work as the floors had to be smeared and hardened every month and the windows cleaned. All these activities were freely given as their contribution to the Church of God. The question of being paid for their work was never suggested. The festivals of Easter and Christmas were very well attended. At Christmastime three wagonloads of Church members arrived under the care of their teacher or catechist. The girls slept in the schoolhouse and as it was summer time many slept on the open ground. There were no seats in the church so they all sat on the floor. I had a low box to sit on as I was unable to kneel and sit in their fashion. They were most reverent and the babes that were brought were laid on the ground and never seemed to wake up or make a sound. Before we all entered the church the whole congregation followed the priest and choir and proceeded round the little church with lighted candles singing the Christmas hymn 'O come let us adore him' and I am sure that there was genuine faith and understanding of the Christmas message. On my second Christmas at Motito, we got up a simple play of the scene at Bethlehem. My clinic hut was the inn that had no room for Joseph and Mary, and the garage next door was the stable over which a large silver star was placed. A donkey brought Mary led by Joseph across the veld. The priest asked me to dress the players for the occasion and I dipped largely into my wardrobe to supply the dresses for the three Kings with their offerings. The shepherds were easily clothed with African garments. The priest taught the elder children the words of the story in their own language and an old African Christian woman told him that now she really understood what he had been trying to teach them about the birth of Jesus Christ. Every Boxing Day there was a very late concert organised by the priest and African teachers of the various mission stations. The choir would sing their special songs and then an amusing custom prevailed in order to ask for solo items. Some member would walk up the teachers' and priest's table and put down sixpence saying, 'for a song from Stephen' or whoever they wished to hear. If the requested person refused to sing he or she had to walk up and put another sixpence 'not to sing.' This always created a good deal of fun and laughter. The first time I attended this show I was rather surprised to find that at 11 p.m. there was no sign of ending the evening. Next day I asked the priest why the entertainment had to be so late. He told me that if they stopped early the congregation might easily pass on to the heathen meetings that were taking place on these occasions accompanied by beer drinking, but if our show was late enough they would then go home quite satisfied. Several mission choirs met annually for a music festival at Kuruman and the Africans all travelled there in ox wagons. Each choir made a contribution of glees and song, a prize being given to the best choir of the year. There is no doubt that all these activities helped the Africans to understand that the church was a brotherhood of Christians united in faith and love following the example of Jesus Christ and united with the Church under the guidance of bishops and priests. Also at Kuruman each year there was a teachers' meeting where we all received hospitality from that mission. I was asked to read a paper and was allowed to choose my own subject. The first year I spoke of 'the whole man as body and soul'. Stressing the necessity of physical fitness if each Christian was to be a living witness of the Incarnation of our Lord, I emphasized that laziness and self-indulgence could so easily spoil a character. I added that even overwork, neglecting the need for occasional rest for mind and body, could mar the work in the Kingdom of God. The teachers appeared pleased with my contribution and asked me for another paper at our next meeting. The second time I chose the subject of teaching the prevention of cruelty to animals in our schools. I founded my talk on the 104th Psalm where we are shown the thought and care of God for his animal creation, the lions, the ponies and birds. I asked the teachers to inform the children about the cruelty of capturing young birds and keeping them captive by a string tied to their legs and how necessary it was to provide water for their poultry. (I had been rather horrified that both these evils were accepted as quite a usual matter.) The deacon responded well to this appeal and replied that they would teach 'kindness to the animal kingdom.' I hope this has been carried on. After four years in the Motito district's rather disagreeable climate I began to know that my health needed a change to a lower altitude. Adding to these thoughts around the same time, I received news in February 1935 of my mother's death and I had to return to England to settle with my portion of her will. Before I embarked, I had sought advice and consultation about a new position and agreed to take on temporary work for nine months when the permanent housekeeper was away at Holy Cross Mission, Pondoland. This was very near the sea and had a good climate to renew one's health. On my last trek to the four outlaying missions near the Kalahari before leaving for good, the priest and I once again stayed at the Bloxham farm. I was very touched when the little farming community presented me with a large torch as a parting present from them all. The oldest farmer made a short speech saying that they had looked upon me as another Lady with the Lamp. They bade me farewell with kind wishes and thoughts for my future. I responded with a short speech telling them how much their kindness and hospitality had meant to me in my rather lonely life especially when I had been a stranger in their midst.
Holy Cross Mission, Flagstaff, Pondoland - 1935-1936
The mission hospital was a separate unit under the splendid Dr Drew who had started many years previously with only a few mud huts. He had won the confidence of the Chief and his followers. In turn, they supported the hospital financially mainly because Dr Drew was emphatic on that subject saying they would never value free help unless they paid a little to show they believed more in the mission hospital's work than the witch doctors' powers. As a result, a large hospital had been built in place of the huts with several wards, an assistant doctor, matron and four European sisters who were training African nurses most successfully. The large brick church was filled with worshippers every Sunday including many of the Pondos living in the district. There was a priest in charge. Dr Drew was also a priest and was able to help on Sundays. There was a house for girl students attending a senior school and was looked after by two sisters of a community working in South Africa. They kept very aloof from the rest of the mission, the second-in-charge being rather an aggressive character. Then there was a small hostel built in a lonely spot for 12 girls learning weaving. It was in the charge of two young European girls; the younger one knew one of my sisters and the other was the daughter of a missionary priest in the Pondoland district. The boys' school hostel was nearby where a layman was warden and an English lady had lately come out to undertake the catering and care of the boys' clothes. She was one of the eight workers that I had to care for in the house called 'The Cottage' where I lived for the next nine months. Another of The Cottage residents was Archdeacon Leary, a fine rugged old character. He had watched Pondoland develop since he was a boy and his two elderly sisters still lived in Umtata where I stayed the night with them on my visit there. He had seen the heathen country in which he was born becoming a Christian land. As a priest he had visited the many outstations in the district and kept in touch with many Pondo converts. One event in the Archdeacon's many travels in his diocese will always be remembered. He came to the river crossing leading to a church where the congregation was waiting for him and found the river deep and swollen so that his car could not cross. However, he swam across carrying his boots and clothes on his head with one hand and was in time to take his service. At the time he was 65 years of age. He lived to be over 75 and was mourned by the whole community when he died in the land that he had devoted his long life. The Archdeacon continued to tour his district when I was at Holy Cross and when he returned to The Cottage he expected three of the residents to play bridge with him at night. So we took it in turns to be at his disposal after 8 p.m., the secretary and the Post Office lady advising me what was expected. The assistant doctor was another resident. He was rather too keen a bridge player to be a pleasant companion and was short tempered with an indifferent player. Occasionally the Archdeacon had to take him to task for his bad manners when loosing a game. Another resident was the assistant to the farm manager who had charge of the mission land. He was a good-tempered young man with a deep missionary spirit who also ran the scouts and was a general favourite. A further resident of The Cottage was an engineer who came to South Africa after he retired to keep the many buildings in order and superintend the farm. He was a helpful, even-tempered layman and eventually married one of the nursing sisters from the hospital. On Boxing Day he took us to the local festivities where small boys raced ponies for about two miles round the encircling hills and veld. They rode bareback and some of the ponies' reins were made of plaited reeds. The great race of the day occurred when the Chief's son turned up dressed in racing colours of blue silk and was beaten by a length by a diminutive little herd boy in a ragged shirt. One of my housekeeping duties was to give daily orders to our handyman who was deaf and dumb. It was quite an amusing job when I had to order two chickens to be killed for us, by acting the flapping hens and drawing my hand across my neck. There were a great many fads about the food so catering for The Cottage's members was not a happy task for me. When I first went there, there was an excellent African cook who had been there for six years and knew her job well. As ill luck turned out, she applied for two weeks holiday that was readily granted and to everyone's dismay she suddenly died. So, with the help of the African cleaners, I had to add her duties to my own and cook for all The Cottage's residents. It was summer weather, which meant excessive heat and I shall never forget having to make pastry and cakes in a stifling kitchen. In time, after Christmas, we were able to replace her and my last months there became easier and I was able to do a little missionary work as well. I was asked to take one of the classes in the school for Scripture and to start a class on Sunday after church service for herd boys who were only able to visit the mission on that one day. My task was to help the African teacher who acted as interpreter and I think we managed to interest these little boys. I was also able to do a little massage at the hospital for one or two of the patients and thus saw the impressive work of Dr Drew and his staff. Additionally he was in charge of the leper hospital at Khambati, which was managed by a wonderful nursing sister, Margaret Turvy. She had been there for 15 years and was much loved and respected by her patients. There was a tiny chapel where she daily said Matins and Evensong. I was fortunate enough to stay there one weekend and saw the hospital's work at first hand. A new drug was being used that was curing this dreaded disease and giving a new spirit of hopefulness and happiness in the place. I did not think the atmosphere among the workers at Holy Cross Mission was satisfactory as it was the custom that no one should ever 'talk shop' when they met so no one was the least sympathetic to any other missionary. Dr Drew's charming wife was the only person I could talk to at the mission. I sometimes felt lonelier there in a crowd of workers than I had felt when I was really a lone missionary at Motito. I think Christian fellowship should have a stronger and kinder bond between those who are 'living in Christ'. During the year since my mother's death, our old family home had been sold and I felt I should return to England for another six months to settle my business affairs. I had relieved the old housekeeper at Holy Cross for nine months and she was now free to resume her post. Before I left, Archdeacon Leary drove me to an outstation about 40 miles away and asked me whether I would return to his diocese to start a medical clinic and help a native priest who would have a small church and school there. I was to live in a hut close to a European farmer. I agreed to this suggestion. After my leave, I returned to Cape Town prepared to take up the post in Pondoland when to my surprise, I received a telegram from Archdeacon Leary telling me our project has fallen through as a Roman Catholic Mission had started in that district and we could not get permission from the government to have that site. I was rather taken aback and wondered where my services would be needed. Very soon however I was asked to take temporary duty at a small mission hospital called Umlazi near Durban, while its permanent staff members took it in turns to have a well-earned holiday. This suited me well.
Umlazi, near Durban - 1937-1938
I had returned from England with a new Morris-8 car and this was very useful for the hospital. I fetched stores and drove the staff occasionally one mile down to the sea where we could bathe during our recreation. I was also able to get to Durban for any special Saints Day service. Each of the staff went on leave for their holiday and when they had all returned I knew I should no longer be needed here. I corresponded with the Secretary of SPG and was asked if I would be willing to go to Pretoria to be the warden of an African girls' hostel. The bishop in Pretoria, Bishop Parker, wrote confirming the appointment but also asked if I would be willing to wait six months before taking up the work as the temporary lady there had not made any plans and he did not like to hurry her away. Before replying I went over in my mind what I should do during this period. I had heard that the teachers at the Good Shepherd Mission School for coloured folk in Pretoria would be glad to have someone to do the housekeeping and look after the African servant girl. So in answer to the bishop's request I told him I would wait the six months but asked his permission go as an honorary worker to the school. He agreed to this proposal.
The Good Shepherd Mission School, Pretoria - 1938
It was not long before I added other tasks to my housekeeping duties. A European parson asked me if I would conduct a European Sunday School at a suburb about four miles from Pretoria. I agreed but stipulated that I should like to have a petrol allowance for the job as I was then receiving no salary and having to share in household expenses. This was settled satisfactorily and I continued to visit the Sunday school after I lived at the African girls' hostel when I could pay for my own petrol expenses. The Sunday school had been organised with junior classes and teachers. The European children were responsive and pleasant to deal with. I was glad to help in this way and not deal entirely with practical matters. Another added duty was to visit every week the Leper Institution situated six miles east of Pretoria. The lady who lived at the Good Shepherd Mission house adjoining the school had ministered to these lepers for 30 years and was on leave. Mrs Jenkens (the archdeacon's wife) and I had to take her place and not disappoint the patients. We undertook shopping for the patients each week, bringing the small odds and ends they required such as needlework, utensils and small additions to their food like fresh fruit or potted meat, etc. We visited bed patients in the morning and attended the afternoon service at the institution's church for Anglican patients. The whole of the nave was kept for patients, several of them arriving in chairs. Mrs Jenkens and I were seated in the choir. It was a great lesson to me to see the cheerfulness and courage of both patients and nurses. The nurses lived some distance outside the compound and attended daily for giving treatment at the dispensary. The patients were all taught to help one another as much as possible. Once every two months we had a jumble sale of clothes at the Leper Institution. Church people in Pretoria supplied us with old clothes. We had to sort them in a small hut that the absent lady had built in her garden and then transport them to the institution. The sale had its difficulties because none of the patients was allowed to handle the clothes. Instead, a large sheet was laid on the floor of one of the huts and we had to hold up the things while the patients bid for them. I was in charge of the money that had to be dropped into a glass jar of disinfectant lotion before we were able to count it. I was also asked to prepare two members for confirmation at the Leper Institution. The first was a teacher who got around in a chair and taught a class for church members among the children. She was a fine character and eventually recovered from the disease after I had left but with the loss of a foot. She was a very plucky and cheerful person and her faith in God was a source of great help to her and a good influence on her afflicted friends and the children she was teaching. The second was a young girl of 17 years of age who only lived for a short time after her confirmation day. My final added duty was to conduct an afternoon service every fortnight at the house of a coloured family living 10 miles away in a rather isolated district. The mother was a fine missionary-hearted woman with 10 children. Her husband was an artisan worker at the mint and they were very much respected in their own locality. She always invited about seven neighbours and two candidates for confirmation class to our meeting each fortnight and always gave me a good tea before I returned to the mission. I was allowed to continue to visit her when I was living at the girls' hostel. I had to get the bishop's consent to do this and he agreed provided I should not neglect the new duties. I found I could fit in this visit as I had an assistant European worker and an African matron, which enabled me to retain the friendship and interest of the coloured family until my missionary activities ended three years later. The six months' interval ended and I parted from the teachers with regret because we had been a happy trio. I still meet the senior member when she returns to England for her occasional holiday. After several years she resigned her post and went to Durban to take an evangelistic post with the Indian community and has found much quiet happiness in her new environment. The younger teacher died before I left which caused much sorrow among the coloured people and her friends.
Girls' Hostel, Pretoria - 1939
I now had to live in the hostel with the junior worker. She and I shared the sitting room where we had our meals and an African girl cooked for us. There were two large dormitories that housed 60 girls and a large asphalt playground where they were able to have their games and Girl Guide activities. Every day they left the hostel about 7.30 a.m. to serve European households in all parts of the town. Some of the senior girls had been in the hostel for six or more years serving the same households and were happy with them and well treated. We had our own small chapel in the grounds where we all assembled every evening at 8.30 for evensong. The girls sang a hymn and Nunc Dimitis lustily, unaccompanied by organ or piano. Their gift of singing in perfect harmony is wonderful. I had to lead this service except on Sunday night when we had our chaplain, Reverend John Maund to preach (he is now Bishop of Basutoland). Once a year Bishop Parker would take our service. Most of the girls were already confirmed before they came to the hostel but each year one or two were not and they asked for classes. It was my duty to give the instruction until the last class, which was taken by the chaplain. I had rather an unfortunate beginning to my work at the hostel but owing to the bishop's broad-minded character it did not affect my future. The episode occurred on the day of my first committee meeting at the hostel when the bishop, secretary and other members were to assemble in my sitting room at 5 p.m. I had to take a scripture class at a village four miles way at 3 p.m., which would have given me plenty of time to return before 5 p.m. But a sudden cloudburst occurred locally and completely blocked my road and the flood was too deep for my car to get through. I found a telephone at a local store and was answered by the bishop who said they could not proceed until I was able to return. At the critical moment the curate came along with his car and, fortunately, it was high enough to drive through the flood and I arrived back to find my sitting room full of patient committee members who were very sympathetic over my delay and the business was safely carried through. I must now speak of my African matron, a pleasant stout woman aged about 35 years. At times she was most helpful telling me of many things about the girls that I ought to know but then suddenly failing in her own duties. One wet morning when it was her duty to see the girls off to their employment at 7 a.m. I could not find her at 8 a.m. until I discovered she was snugly tucked up in her own bed and had never seen that the girls had gone off with their coats or Macintoshes. This instability in an otherwise good character is very disconcerting but in the long run her virtues and good temper outweighed her failings. I began with a good many difficulties owing to the lax ruling of my predecessor. At the end of the first week the six elder girls came to me to say how badly the new youngsters were behaving and hoped I should be willing to try to get order and discipline into the hostel once more as it had been before the late good warden had died in hospital. I decided to start by making them prefects. Then I called a meeting of all the 60 members and asked our chief chaplain, Canon Woodfield, to come and explain to them how prefects were given authority to help carry out the rules of the institution. He explained most ably and simply and I found the prefects very helpful in maintaining law and order. After about six months we settled down to smooth running and a good deal of happiness. Of course, from time to time, we had troubles with one or two of the girls who had to be returned to their own homes as unfit to train. One example was an intelligent child who had been paid for by my predecessor to go on to school instead of into service. This special treatment had a bad effect on her and caused a great deal of quarrelling and trouble. I had a rather distressing experience when one of our nicest girls was returning with a friend from domestic duty and was molested by two African men who dragged her away to a waste plot of ground. Her friend managed to escape and rush into the hostel in great distress to tell me what had happened. Fortunately my little car was just outside our front door so I leapt in taking a senior girl with me and drove the quarter of a mile to try and rescue her. Before I left I told my assistant to telephone the police instantly and tell them where the outrage had occurred. When I arrived I was relieved to find them already in charge. They had arrested the men and brought the girl to me in order that I could drive her to the hostel. She was terribly upset and suffering from shock. After a brief rest I drove her up to the general hospital for two days rest and care. A few weeks later the girl and I had to attend the court where one of the men was being tried. He was sentenced to five years in prison and we had no further trouble of that kind. We sometimes had entertainments at the hostel. The Girl Guides gave a concert every year under their leader, and we had a grand time at Christmastime in our large recreation room. Every summer the committee arranged a very good outing for the whole crowd with an excellent tea. One year it gave the tea in the Cathedral Hall and the girls were very touched and pleased because the European ladies of the cathedral waited on them. This was followed by a conjuring show. At the end of three years I began to find I was becoming rather deaf which was troublesome with the telephone. I also realised that I was feeling the strain because all my most demanding work with the girls took place between six and ten p.m. So I decided to send the bishop my resignation on the account of health. I was sorry to leave. Before my departure took place I gave the girls a farewell tea party. This is the kind of occasion when they like to make speeches and write them out beforehand and then read them out with great gusto. They have an amusing sense of humour and I took pleasure from the chaff they teased me about such as my noisy little car sounding like a frog croaking and other idiosyncrasies of mine. They also added some charming acknowledgements of what I had done for them, told me of their affection for me and sent me away with good wishes. So I left under happy conditions. In looking back over my years spent in such varied mission stations, I am more than thankful that I was able to help, even in such humble ways, to forward the Church's work among the South African people. They have such good qualities and patient ways, suffering from many drawbacks and bearing kindly with our many deficiencies in our dealings with them. Yet they remain faithful to their allegiance as Christians, making many sacrifices to support their churches and schools. It is such worthwhile work and I pray that the long list of vacant posts for doctors, nurses, teachers and priests may be filled and the present overworked staffs of hospitals, schools and churches will be relieved and encouraged. I also pray that the growth of Christianity will not be retarded by lack of response and money and that our Lord's call to go into all the world and preach the gospel to every individual may be answered and gladly obeyed.
Postscript
When on leave in England in 1936, Mabel had bought Old Porterhouse, Layer de la Haye, Essex for her sister Isabel. This is where she returned to live in 1947. It appears they moved to Herefordshire in the 1950s because, according to her relative Francis Pym, who lived in Fownhope, Herefordshire 1953-61, in his book Sentimental Journey, "Mabel came to reside in a home at Hampton Bishop" and was "a fairly regular visitor at Fownhope." Isabel died some 40 miles away in Church Stretton, Shropshire in 1955. Sometime after Isabel's death, Mabel joined two more of her sisters at Holmewood Retirement Home in Bungay, Suffolk where she wrote "Eighty Years in Peace and War" in 1959. It was privately printed in 1963. She generously gave a copy to each of her great nephews and nieces and to many friends and relatives. Mabel died at Holmewood on 9 January 1969 when she was 93 years old.
** 'SPG' - Society for the Propagation of the Gospel
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