The Last Five Years of Active Service, 1884-1889

We have now reached Mr. Anderson's last term of active service in Calabar.

Mr. Anderson addressed the Missionary Meeting of the Synod in May 1884, on "Progress in Old Calabar." The Record says that "the fervid and pathetic words of Mr. Anderson, the veteran of Old Calabar, will long haunt the memories of all who heard them."

In the Record, August 1884, it is stated :—

Notwithstanding his advanced years and his lengthened services in a tropical climate, Mr. Anderson made it known some time ago that he was ready to return to Calabar. Since this was his strong desire, the Mission Board were constrained to yield to it, and he is now on his way to the land of his adoption.

A meeting, for the purpose of taking farewell with Mr. Anderson, was held in the Synod Hall, Edinburgh, on the evening of Sabbath, 29th June. A large audience assembled, and all present seemed touched with the peculiar interest and solemnity of the occasion. In his opening address, the Chairman stated that "Mr. Anderson was endeared to the Church, because he was identified with the Church's missionary work—work on which they were persuaded not only the progress but the vitality of the Church largely depended."

The Rev. Dr. Thomson, in name of the meeting and in name of the Mission Board and of the Church, addressed some parting words to Mr. Anderson. Dr. Thomson said: "My dear friend and brother, I have been requested to express, on the part of this farewell meeting, our parting benedictions. We bid you farewell with mingled feelings of regret and thankfulness. Of regret, because at your advanced years, and with your avowed intentions, we can scarcely indulge the hope of your returning again from Old Calabar, so that we partake in some measure of the feelings of the Ephesian elders when they parted with Paul on the shore at Miletus, and 'sorrowed most of all for the words that he spake that they should see his face no more'; and yet of thankfulness, because you have been spared to Old Calabar and to the Church and to us so long, and have been enabled to do such noble work for Christ and His kingdom.

"When we look back upon the past, and think of what Old Calabar was as you found it, and of what it has become through your instrumentality, and that of men and women of kindred spirit and common aim, who have been associated with you, we are irresistibly constrained, along with you and your surviving fellow-workers, to 'thank God and take courage.' You found the scene of your mission work in the lowest depths of heathenism, without any of the half-civilisation and the arts which one meets with in India and China. It was one of the darkest places of the earth, the forlorn hope of Christian missions; its people without a written language, ignorant, idolatrous, superstitious, polluted, deceitful, cruel; its very laws and institutions sanctioning infanticide and slavery.

"As the fruit of your labours and those of your companions in Christian work, some of the worst customs have been entirely abolished, others are perishing before the light and influence of the gospel; the laws have been ameliorated by being made more humane and just and pure; the Scriptures have been translated into the Efik tongue; flourishing mission schools have been erected, and churches have been formed, more than one of them numbering hundreds of members, a large proportion of whom are native converts. And the missionaries are not content with occupying the ground that had originally been measured out to them, but are at this moment pushing forward into the regions beyond.

Surely this may be deemed sufficient to reward and crown the labours of one life. But you, my dear brother, are not content to remain at home, and at the age of seventy-two to seek rest in what remains of your pilgrimage. Old Calabar is your home—your heart's home; there are graves there, with precious dust treasures in them, which call you back to it; and you wish to return and die among the people for whose highest good you have spent your life, not in vain. Like Elijah, you would prefer to be found working at your post when the Master's chariot comes to take you up. We believe that you are right ; and that the advice you shall be able to give to young missionaries from your ripe experience, and your influence over the kings and chiefs, and over both the European traders and the native population, may be of great advantage to the Mission. And now, dear Mr. Anderson, we commit you to the care of Him who is the ruler of the winds and the waves, praying that you may be protected on your voyage, and be welcomed back by many glad and grateful hearts. Above all, we commend you to God, and to the word of His grace, which is able to build you up and to give you an inheritance among all them that are sanctified, earnestly desiring that, when the hour of your departure comes, an entrance may be ministered to you abundantly into the everlasting kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen."

In his reply, Mr. Anderson referred to the claims of Africa on British Christians, arising out of the wrongs to which she had been subjected in the years that were past. He spoke of the trials through which he had passed, and the difficulties with which the Mission as a whole had to contend. He spoke also of the success which had attended the work, and of the promise which this gave of greater success in the future. And he closed by intimating his desire to share in that success, and to sleep at last in the land for which he had laboured so long.

The following poetical Farewell Address was presented to Mr. Anderson in Nwwington U.P Church, Edinburgh, on the evening of Thursday, the 3rd July, 1884:—

'The Christian toiler earns his twilight calm,
Where home distils for him its sacred balm,
And each day's history closes with a psalm.

And shall the twilight hour of thy long day
Be toil, not rest? While love is whispering 'Stay,'
Thy willing hand and strong heart answer 'Nay.'

Thou wouldst keep sowing' till the day is done,
Thy hand not staying till the night come down,
And on a sweat-marked brow receive thy crown.

On far-off fields the ripening grain is seen,
The borders, radiant in their autumn sheen,
Are beck'ning thee, thy evening sheaves to glean.

Thy last will be thy loneliest hour of reaping,
No tender heart for thee its vigil keeping,
Thy fellow-toilers in the dust are sleeping.

One tried the ploughshare for a short spring day
With willing hand, when on his tear-dimmed way
There shone, in sudden glory, endless day.

One heard Christ whisper ' ome,' in accents sweet;
His sheaves ungathered 'mid the noontide heat,
He laid his life down at the Master's feet.

One bore afar, upon the river's breast,
The words of peace, and many a dark heart blest:
He served in paths untrod, then entered rest.

Some cheered the downcast, soothed the dying brow,
And taught once prayerless hearts in prayer to bow:
They kneel together in God's presence now.

These magnified the riches of God's grace,
And He, who died to save the world, can trace
His image true on many a sable face.

In thy far home, alone on bended knee,
Think that in loving homes across the sea
The children in their prayers remember thee

And as God hears, and sees their upturned faces,
And drops His dew upon their budding graces,
His eye may mark them for the vacant places.

And so, though late thy call to rest be given,
A clearer light will gild thy quiet even,
Thy longer day will be a brighter heaven."

James Goodfellow.

A few extracts may be given from Mr. Anderson's reply :—

Mr. Young, fathers and brethren, Christian friends, I have addressed many a congregation, but I do not remember ever being so much impressed by a sense of my responsibility as I am now. I feel that this is like a new ordination. 1 feel, at all events, that it is the last public ordination that I shall have in this land. In these circumstances 1 would have preferred to have remained dumb ; and yet, when I see so many Christian friends around me, I rejoice in the opportunity of telling them how much I love and esteem them all. I cannot recount all the kindnesses I have received, since my return to this land, from the congregations, the ministry, the Mission Board, and all the friends connected with this and other churches. In thinking of these things, I have often been compelled to ask, "Who am I and what is my father's house, that Thou shouldst have brought me hitherto? and is this the manner of man, O Lord God, and what can David say more?" . . . My father made me learn the Shorter Catechism, and though I did not understand much of it then, I don't remember the time when I could not repeat the whole of it from beginning to end. I have been commended (although no commendation is merited) for having a good memory, and I have no doubt whatever that the learning of that Catechism was a great help to the strengthening of that faculty called memory. One of the first things I gave to the Calabar people in their own language was the Shorter Catechism. When I ask you children, "What is the chief end of man?" you arc all able to answer, "Man's chief end is to glorify God and to enjoy Him for ever." A great many of the little scholars out in Old Calabar—and a great many of the big ones too, for we have fathers and mothers at school—could answer that question in their own language just as well as you can in yours. I could never get our king to learn the Catechism—he was always a kind of a booby (but don't tell him I said so). I am afraid that, with having these kings and dukes around me learning their lessons, I forget my place with regard to them, for I often find myself saying, when they are proposing something I do not approve of, "Come, come, my boys, this won't do"; and I have to correct myself, and say, "No! king and gentlemen of Duke Town, I would advise you to try some other plan." . . .

I thank you all very much for that beautiful address ; and you, my boy (turning to the reader), for reciting it so well. You must be a missionary yet! I claim you in Christ's name for the mission field. And, boys and girls, you must all consecrate yourselves to the foreign field. It is the best work you can engage in : for my part, I don't know what else is worth living for. . . .[1 am indebted for the foregoing to a shorthand report by Mr. Jas, Paterson, a member of Newington Church.]

The Board had appointed Mr. Anderson to Ikorofiong, and Mr. Beedie, who had been at Ikorofiong, to Duke Town. The Presbytery of Biafra proposed that Mr. Beedie should go to Duke Town, and that Mr. Anderson should be asked to return to Duke Town. Mr. Beedie was given responsible charge of the station, and Mr. Anderson took part in the work as he felt able.

In the Record, November 1884, the following account was given of Mr. Anderson's arrival at Duke Town:—

The Rev. William Anderson, who sailed from Liverpool on 16th July, arrived in safety at Old Calabar on the 16th of August. Though his arrival was somewhat unexpected, the intelligence soon spread, and he was kindly welcomed by many ere he reached the mission-house. Numbers of visitors came afterwards, and he soon found himself quite at home. Mr. Anderson and Mr. Beedie conducted the services at Duke Town on the following Sabbath, when there was a good attendance at all the diets of worship. " I have been living over the past a good deal during these bygone days. I must now brace myself up for the future. 'Work while it is day.' I cannot expect my day to be very much prolonged. I feel grateful to the home congregations for the interest shown in myself and my work; and I feel satisfied that many friends there will continue to pray for myself and my fellow-labourers, that through our instrumentality the word may have free course and be glorified throughout this whole region."

In the Annual Report for 1884, Mr. Anderson said that, as he was in Scotland during the greater part of the previous year, no official report could be expected from him:—

On taking a retrospect at the commencement of a new year (1885), I see change upon change. I feel that I am not what I once was. I see a new generation of natives, and almost a new generation of mission workers. I am not prepared to say, however, that "the former times were better than these." I note progress in the right direction. Mr. Beedie and I have divided the public services, both English and Efik, pretty equally between us. Matters seem hopeful in connection with our work. Last Sabbath we had the best attendance I have seen since my return. Our marching order seems to be "Forward."

The Rev. James and Mrs. Luke arrived at Duke Town on September 14, and were met on board the steamer by Mrs. Lyall, Mr. and Mrs. Ludwig, and Miss Hogg, who had themselves recently joined the Mission, and on the Mission Beach by Messrs. Anderson and Beedie. Mr. and Mrs. Luke were located at Creek Town.

In a letter to Airs, and Miss Duncan, Heriot Row, Edinburgh, of date November 9, 1885, Mr. Anderson wrote :—

I have so many tokens of remembrance of you, that I should find it hard work to try to forget you. Half of my library is surrounded by the atmosphere of Heriot Row. Thanks for addition of the "Revised." . . .

You will regret to learn that Mr. and Mrs. Beedie embark to-day for Britain under medical orders. Mrs. B. has been here only seven months for her present spell.

I am thus again left alone—with a large house, with little ability and less inclination than ever to look after temporal comforts and domestic arrangements. Oh, if I had only one or two of Mrs. A.'s well-trained girls to act by me as they did when she was taken away ! The only unmarried one who acted as her stewardess about a year before her death is factotum to Mrs. Ludwig, so that I cannot take a step toward her return. Christina is a wife in Calabar fashion, and has a stout, thumping son of seven or eight months. Mrs. Fuller (who came here at first with Mr. and Mrs. Robb) acts as a kind of nurse for the Mission. She may be able to look after me for a little, but I am not sure.

We expect your Broughton Place missionary [Mr. Cruickshank] and his wife here on this day week. . . .

I spend five to six hours daily in visiting or teaching or preaching. One Sabbath some months ago I was seven hours on my feet at a spell, walking and preaching nearly all the while. . . .

In the Report for 1885, Mr. Anderson wrote:—

My work is much the same from week to week, so that I have nothing very special to report. The Sabbath services are divided between me and Mr. Beedie; while during the week I have had the burden of the day-school in the morning, with house-to-house visitation during the day, and various classes and meetings in the evening. Besides work at Duke Town, I have also visited regularly, and held meetings at Qua and Akim. I think I now feel a livelier interest in all departments of my work than ever I did before, and trust that I shall have grace given me to redeem the time, and to be faithful and diligent to the end. I have great reason for gratitude for the continuance of health. To me this is a most delightful and salubrious clime, and I feel as if I have still two or three years before me. But I must not forget that it is frequently "when one, thinks not" that the Son of Man cometh. I sometimes seem to hear the voice, "Work while daylight lingers." The better I can fill up my few remaining days or years, the pleasanter will be the retrospect from the other side.

The brief Report for 18S6 has a significance of its own, in that it tells of work carried on almost single-handed by a man seventy-four years of age, with strength and eyesight failing:—

In the absence of Mr. Beedie on furlough, Mr. Anderson has had charge of Duke Town station during the year, and has been abundant in labours.

The usual three services have been held on Sabbath, two in Efik and one in English, attended by about 300. The attendance at the English service has been sometimes very encouraging, at other times the reverse. The Sabbath-school attendance is also good. Since February a morning service has been held at Henshaw Town, attended by about 70 to 120. During the week several meetings are regularly held, and though the attendance has fluctuated, it has on the whole been encouraging.

The school on the Mission Hill has been carried on by Ani Eniang Ofiong, and Mr. Anderson has himself taken an active part in the work, as well as in the work of the Henshaw Town school.

In regard to work at the out-stations, Mr. Anderson said:—

I have frequently visited Qua and Akim, places both populous and necessitous, and both holding out their hands to us for help; but 1 am afraid that I have not been able to effect much good. Both places would require regular and energetic work.

I have great reason for gratitude for another year of unbroken health. On reviewing the past year, and looking forward to the future, I could give utterance to many lamentations and aspirations, but I forbear. "I thank God, and take courage."

Mr. Beedie, accompanied by his wife, arrived at Duke Town on April 17, 1887. In October, Mrs. Beedie became so ill that the doctor advised that she should at once return home. Accompanied by Mr. Beedie, she left, but died on Oct. 18, a few days after leaving Calabar, and was buried at sea. Shortly afterwards, Mr. Beedie transferred himself to an outgoing steamer, and returned to Calabar. The Annual Report for 1887 is written partly by Mr. Anderson and partly by Mr. Beedie. Mr. Anderson wrote:—

During Mr. Beedie's absence, all the Sabbath work, both Efik and English, devolved on me—as well as the evening prayer meetings and the superintendence of the schools. During Mr. Beedie's seven months' residence here I have taken part with him in all the services, both on Sabbaths and on week-days. If I have had anything like a special department, it has been in teaching the school at Henshaw Town and in paying an evangelistic visit weekly to our two out-stations of Qua and Akim.

In a letter to Mrs. Duncan, Edinburgh, dated Jan. 30, 1888, Mr. Anderson acknowledges various gifts from Mrs. and Miss Duncan, and refers to the death of Mrs. H. G. Clerk:—

I feel deeply grateful for all your kindness—kindness heaped on kindness —and I pray to Him for whose sake you labour and continue year by year to cheer the hearts of His servants in different parts of the world—at home and abroad. Paul sets a grand example of what ought to be done for generous and disinterested friends: 2 Tim. i. 16-18.

Delighted to hear of Dr. A. Thomson's continued vigour and that of Mrs. T. I can adhere to what I said publicly in one of our large meetings, he is the only man in Edinburgh whom I should be disposed to address as a "Father."

Thanks for Dr. Lindsay Alexander's Memoir. I feel it intensely interesting. I had a slight acquaintance with him. I heard him twice before I went to Jamaica.

You will have seen in the papers notice of another bereavement of the Mission here—in the death of Mrs. Clerk, who, like Mrs. Beedie, died and was buried at sea. Mrs. Clerk was a bright girl in my female class when in charge of Kingston congregation in 1877. She was then Maggie Macintyre. Her husband was at the same time a member of my young men's class.

My own health continues pretty much as it has done for years, but sight and hearing are failing greatly. I suppose you will detect the failure of the eyes in the character of my writing. It must seem very shaky.

Matters are moving on in the Mission in pretty much the old way. Mrs. Goldie has long been very feeble, but holds out wonderfully.

Writing to Miss Duncan on April 28, to acknowledge Mrs. Duncan's "usual donation" on behalf of native children, Mr. Anderson says:—

I feel almost ashamed to be so well provided for while better and more diligent men are often in straits. Warmest thanks to your dear mother for her unfailing kindness. I know that her gifts are bestowed for I lis sake. May I be faithful as her steward, and especially as His ! . . .

My eyesight is failing very rapidly. It is with difficulty I see what I am writing. My reading and writing and working days are nearly over. I have great difficulty in distinguishing countenances among either whites or blacks. Not the most stiff-laced Cameronian need be under any fear of my using MS. in the pulpit now!

On Dec. 20, 1888, Mr. Anderson wrote to his sister, Mrs. Clohan, giving an account of an alarming fainting fit which overtook him in the pulpit on Sept. 30th:—

I sat about five hours in great pain on Sept. 29, writing to Elizabeth, to Rev. Mr. Buchanan, and others. That long sitting brought matters to a sort of crisis. It irritated the pain exceedingly. I got no sleep all the Saturday night, and Sabbath morning found me quite exhausted. It was my turn to take the morning service. Mr. Beedie was willing to take my turn and give me his {i.e. the evening service); but I felt, and said, "Oh, no need for that; just let me begin to speak and I shall soon forget all about pain and everything else except my theme and my audience." I went to the pulpit, and under solemn feelings preached to a large and apparently solemnised congregation from the very solemn text, 1 Sam. vi. 20: "Who is able to stand before the holy Lord God?" I had got the length of "Lastly," and stated that I had a few words still to add, but I felt my strength failing—"So we shall just sing the next hymn on the programme." I lifted the hymn-book, but . . . when I opened mine eyes I found Mr. Beedie and a few of our young men laying me down gently and tenderly on the sofa in the vestry. I heard one saying, "Bring water," and another, " Bring brandy." I could not comprehend it. I asked, "What are you all doing here? What do ye want?" I got no reply, but I saw that all looked sad and anxious. In a short time the true state of the matter began to dawn on me, and I asked, "Did I fall down in the pulpit?" and an affirmative reply made all plain.

I learned afterwards that there was a deep and piercing wail from the whole congregation when I fell down, which was heard in different parts of the town. The intelligence soon went through the town and among the shipping, and even flew to the neighbouring towns, that Mr. Anderson is dead. I heard nothing of the wailing myself, however, as I was enjoying the stillness of the sepulchre. I remained a few minutes in the vestry, and then walked over to the mission-house, where I rested during the remainder of the day.

The occurrence created a very solemn impression on the minds of many. It was the first (and as yet the only) occurrence of the kind in the history of the Old Calabar pulpit. Some of the most intelligent of our young men have declared that the remembrance of it haunted them day and night for a time. ... I never knew that I had such a strong hold of the hearts of the people. Their hand-shaking (often hand-wringing) and expressions of thankfulness for my—-preservation according to some— restoration according to others—were very touching. The popular belief was evidently that I had been fairly removed from them, and that God had sent me back to them in answer to their prayers and tears. Perhaps this is the most profitable view to take of the matter for both them and me.

I feel pretty well at present, but I cannot conceal from myself that I am fast failing. I suspect that I shall soon have to give up all active public work. In this case I am a little in the dark as to what my future will be. Do not mistake me. My future is not dark, but it is uncertain. I cannot well remain here, occupying a place which should be filled by some younger and stronger man. To return to dear old but cold Scotland {i.e. to remain there), I shrink from the prospect.

The first Sabbath of another year will soon be here. I have never forgotten the first Sabbath of 1823 (sixty-five years ago), when two little lonely orphans walked from Gorebridge past Mossend and Newlandrigand Dewartown to tell their uncle and aunt that their father had died on the previous Saturday evening. Verily, my sister, when forsaken by father and mother, the Lord took us up. He has been a good God to you and me hitherto, and He will not forsake us now when overtaken by the infirmities of age.

If spared to see Jan. 9th, forty-nine years will have passed away since I first set foot on loved Jamaica. If spared till Feb. 12th, forty years will have passed away since I first landed in Old Calabar.

The Mission Board kindly invite me home for change and rest. I feel that my day of service is almost over. I may return to Scotland after the winter months are over. My future is not dark, but it is uncertain. I look up for light.

On the eve of Mr. Anderson's departure from Old Calabar, a meeting was held on April 16, 1889, between H.B.M.'s Special Commissioner, Major Claude Maxwell Macdonald, and the kings and chiefs of Old Calabar, to discuss proposals for the future government of the country. H.M. Consul, Edward Hyde Hewett, Esq., C.M.G., who had made a series of treaties in 1884, was also present. Magnus Adam Duke, a native of Old Calabar, acted as interpreter. A full account of the proceedings was given in the Ungwana Ef'ik, or Light of Calabar, for April 1889, the monthly paper published at the Mission Press. Two suggestions were put forward: (1) that the Oil Rivers should be governed by the Royal Niger Company; (2) that the Oil Rivers should be made into a Crown Colony. The second suggestion was preferred. But instead of a Crown Colony, a Protectorate, called at first the Oil Rivers, but now known as the Niger Coast Protectorate, was constituted a "local jurisdiction" under the Africa Order in Council of 1889. "A consular jurisdiction, primarily for British subjects, was established in those districts. Administrative powers have also by sufferance and consent come into being; and from August 1, 1891, a scale of import duties was fixed and proclaimed, 'to provide for the expenses of the administration of the British Protectorate of the Oil Rivers.'" [A Historical Geography of the British Colonies, by C. P. Lucas, B.A. Vol. iii., West Africa, 1894, p. 241.] The headquarters of the Protectorate are at Duke Town. The first Commissioner and Consul-General was Major Sir C. M. Macdonald, K.C.M.G., now British Minister at Peking, China. The present Consul-General is R. D. Moor, Esq., C.M.G.

The April number of the Ungwana Ef'ik also contains accounts in English and in Efik of the departure of Mr. Anderson. The account in English is as follows:—

"Our father is going away," were the words spoken by many people with reference to the departure of the Rev. Mr. Anderson. On Saturday the 20th inst. the Creek-Town friends came down to take farewell with him, when prayer was offered up for his safe conduct to Scotland. Very touching was the parting between the two veterans [Messrs. Anderson and Goldie] who have fought the battle together for over forty years. Sabbath dawned bright and clear to find the people of their own accord assembling in the church to commend their father to the keeping of the Heavenly Father. When Mr. Anderson left the mission-house he went to the church, around the door of which stood those who had been within. Entering the building, he took a look round the vestry, then went into the pulpit and repeated the following lines of the 122nd Psalm:—

''Now, for my friends' and brethren's sakes, Peace be in thee, I'll say; And for the house of God our Lord, I'll seek Thy good alway."

As he passed through the crowd he had many hands to shake, which were eagerly stretched to him. Coming to the graveyard, he went over to where his wife lies, plucked a flower and put it inside his hat—his favourite place for carrying these gifts of nature. When he came to the turn of the road leading down to the beach, he saw that a flagstaff had been erected, and that the flag was being dipped in his honour. How appropriate this act was, is seen when it is known that the pole was placed there by a man who owes his life to Mr. Anderson, his being the first life saved in the early days of the Mission, and that to this place he came every night to get a view of the river. Arriving at the beach, he stepped into the James Black, and was soon rowed out to the Aiubris, the people bidding him farewell with tears in their eyes and voices. The friends who accompanied him had only a short time to stay, as the steamer was preparing to leave; so, bidding him adieu, they returned to the beach. Before they reached the summit of the hill the Ambriz passed, dipping her flag. "Our father has gone."

The following is a translation of the account in Efik :—

On April 21 the Rev. William Anderson left Calabar. He is the man who has done God's work a very long time in Duke Town. He does not leave the work of God here because that work wearies him, but because he has no longer strength, and is no longer able to see, for his eyes are dim.

In another Ungzuana Efik we shall give a little account of his life and of the work he has done. And so we shall not insert any more in this [number]. But let all remember the good Words of God which he has spoken, and pray God that He may preserve His aged servant, and comfort him all the time he lives. He will not forget us; let us not forget him.

Mr. Goldie wrote in Efik a Sketch of the Life of Mr. Anderson, which extended to eight chapters, but brought the narrative only up to 1854. It appeared in the Ungwana Efik between May 1889 and September 1890. These chapters regarding the early history of the Mission serve to inform the more intelligent natives of the conflict that took place between light and darkness in Calabar, and to keep green the memory of the pioneer missionaries.

Mr. Anderson's fifty years' active service in the mission field were now ended, and he returned to his native land a solitary old man, with impaired eyesight and somewhat broken health, but with the divine fire of enthusiasm for missions burning bright as in his early days. He was still William Anderson of Old Calabar, and after a few years of "exile" he was to return to round off his days in beloved Duke Town, and be laid to rest beside his "faithful partner of forty years."