°I am very sory to tell
you that your mother is in verry Bad health she is thrown out of her
house and she has no where to go but to stop with her sister and all her
things lying in wrak about Dunnandon and she has been Bed fast ever
since the time she was put out so She ordrc me to write you to com and
see hir for she told me that she could find no peace on earth till she
would see you so I hop ye will com presently altho ye hire a man in your
place I told hir that I would take hir down to my house but she would
not win till she sec you. There is no doubt whatever that David went.
David found employment as
a farm hand or ploughman, and from all that I can leant devoted himself
to his humble work with faithfulness, diligence and efficiency. While a
young man, he met Margaret Maitland, daughter of Widow Maitland of
Inverurie, with whom it is said he fell in love at first sight. "No
wonder," those would say who have seen her portrait painted a few years
later.
AULD WIDOW MAITLAND
Margaret Maitland's
mother is beautifully and sympathetically pictured for us by Canon Low
in his "Vignettes," as "Auld Widow Maitland," in the chapter entitled "O
Sweet Content!' Mr. Maitland who was considerably older than his wife,
had at one time been a farmer in comfortable circumstances, but unwisely
became security for a neighbour for the payment of a debt, which proved
his ruin, financially, and so discouraged him that he gradually became
helpless, and soon died. Left alone, the young widow bravely struggled
on, and brought up to manhood and womanhood her three sons and three
daughters, Margaret the youngest being ten years younger than the member
of her family next older than herself. One of the widow's sons fell at
Waterloo, and another, also a soldier, died of wounds received on the
same fateful field. The third boy learned the trade of tailor, and
finally died, as had also his two soldier brothers, unmarried.
Canon Low explains that
Widow Maitland's home was distant but a few hundred yards from his own,
near Manar, Aberdeenshire, and I cannot do better than allow him to
describe her as he knew her in the humble dwelling which she called her
home:—"The dwelling was of the humblest—in fact too humble to survive
her very long. The roods of masonry in the wall were few, and the
quantity of thatch on the roof was great, and wore a look of age, while
there was 'grass growing on the house-top,' and here and there a yellow
patch of stone-crop. The chimney consisted of a small barrel, whipped
round with straw rope, and, of course, minus the two ends. The windows
were very small, and a moderately tall person would have to stoop to get
safely in through the door. Looking ben, he would see no grate, but the
peat fire on the hearth-stone against the gable wall, from which the
light-coloured smoke wavered and curled upwards towards a white-washed
wooden hood, connected, like the wide end of a funnel, with the chimney
above. Through this funnel, at the corner of which the auld eelie lamp
or crusie hung on a nail, the smoke passed out, unless the wind was in
`the reeky airt.' In that unlucky case there would be a `flan', or
`blow-down, and the atmosphere would become so thick with smoke and
motes as to cause almost any visitor's eyes to smart. But on such days
the visitors would be rare, and Auld Widow Maitland would suffer it with
no companions but her daughter Jean (who might, with truth have been
called auld too), and the cat, whose nose and eyes being near the floor
enabled her to get off with least suffering of the three.
"But the one of the three
who was sure to rivet the visitors' attention was Auld Widow Maitland
herself. She sat on a big chair on the north side of the fire-place,
with a small window in the gable at her right hand, in the recess of
which, being three-fourths of the thickness of the wall in depth, lay
her spectacles, her Bible, one or two other books, a thimble, a
pin-cushion, a reel of sewing cotton and some other little things, all
within the reach of her hand. Behind her, in the angle between the gable
and the north wall, was fixed an `aumbry' of triangular ground plan,
coloured a rich dark brown by the smoke. There she sat diligently
knitting stockings of a bluish colour, the proceeds of which, with those
of her daughter Jean's work, formed no unimportant portion of their
living. She wore the old-fashioned `close mutch' on her venerable grey
head; a grey knitted 'shawlie' on her bent shoulders; a very broad
apron, almost covering her vincev gown in front; and an immense pocket
hung outside her dress on the right-hand side by means of a string tied
round her waist. Old age had written its sign manual all over her
longish, once oval, now slightly angular face. She had been a long
sojourner in this world, and was in touch with it still. She was
interested in all her neighbours—in their joys and sorrows alike,
entering into both, being as capable of quiet mirth as of gentle,
tearful sympathy. In her neighbours' children particularly she had a
most kindly and sympathetic interest, felt both by children and parents.
And what the children instinctively felt was that she comprehended them,
and could see things from their point of view and understand their
ideas. Her intercourse with them was consequently delightful to them,
and, I have no doubt extremely diverting to herself."
Thus living in touch with
and like her fellows, the Canon goes on to say that all both old and
young felt that she was no less in living touch with an unseen world.
Not that the other world was obtruded by her, but you could no more miss
it than you could miss the expression of her face. "That expression
might have been the model from which Lady Elizabeth Carew's picture was
drawn. It was 'cheerful, pleasant, happy and content.' The merest glance
round would show that she had reached content, not through ease, hut in
the midst of diligent work; not by obtaining her desires, but by
restraining them."
Sometimes the Canon would
hear from neighbours things about her,—gathered, he supposes, from her
daughter Jean. For instance, when in the night sleep would avoid her
pillow, her remedy was to repeat the 110th Psalm which, with many others
of the Psalms, she hail committed to memory, and before this longest of
the Psalms was completed she would be always fast asleep. Her calm, the
Canon said, was felt, though not having yet arrived at the analytical or
critical age, her young admirers did not trouble themselves about its
foundations. Now, looking hack over the years, he realizes what that
foundation was:— "To her, God was the reality of realities, supreme in
majesty and holiness, but supreme also in love." He feels sure she had
no doubt that, "humble and unworthy as she was, He numbered the very
hairs of her head," and that "He who careth for the sparrows and feedeth
the young ravens when they cry, had the loving protecting arms of His
providence around her; therefore no calamity disturbed her quiet
content."
Throughout her life
calamity had indeed, seemed lo dog her steps. Early in her married life
her earthly possessions had taken wing. To poverty was added widowhood,
and the loss in little of two of her sons. So deep had now become her
poverty and so meagre her resources that no further mark seemed left for
the suspended arrow of adversity. But it soon found a mark in her cow,
the last vestige of her former affluence. The cow, (and the Canon says
she had for it a positive affection), sickened and died. But "She was
still cheerful, pleasant, happy and content." Can we doubt that the
Canon is right when he says, "I think now that it was her absolute trust
in God that was the foundation of her "sweet content." "She was an
illustration of the fine Scotch proverb "Hae God, hae a'."
Such was Old Grandmother
Maitland, such her humble habitation, such her circumstances in life and
such, through faith in God. her sweet content. It is pleasant to know
that, largely through the devotion of her youngest daughter, her earthly
wants during the closing years of life were abundantly supplied, and
that she finally and unexpectedly passed away without anxiety as to her
earthly provision, and without prior sickness or suffering, into the
presence of her Lord.
THE COURSE OF TRUE LOVE.
In her girlhood days
Margaret, the youngest child of the widow seems to have been unfit for
hard manual labour, and therefore at an early age set about fitting
herself for such employment as better suited her. After an extremely
short course of instruction in the city of Aberdeen, she returned to her
native village and undertook the duties of instructress in a sewing
school, in which she also taught her pupils to read and write. In this
work she prospered, and conditions at home, as we have seen, began to
improve.
Meantime David Stewart
had gained her affections, but was determined that he would not
undertake the responsibility of wedded life until assured of a way of
living better than that of a common labourer. He succeeded in obtaining
the position of foreman on the home farm of the estate of Blelack, under
the superintendence of Mr. Thompson who then held the position of
"grieve," or farm manager. In this employment he was able to save from
year to year a considerable portion of his slender earnings. Like
another Jacob, he served thus for seven years for his `Rachel,' counting
the years and months until he and his sweetheart, who was also earning
and saving money, could venture to establish a home of their own.
A remarkably interesting
letter of this period, from "Your affectionate sweetheart Margt
Maitland" to "My Dear Friend," David Stewart, in September 1834, is
worth quoting from. That was before the days of penny postage, and a
letter cost perhaps the savings of several days. So it is his letter of
July second that she is replying to on September fifteenth. He is given
the news, a birth, the crops, a death, Mr. G. "dropped in an instant in
the middle of making a bargain." There is a little banter. "I must thank
you for the liberty you have given me of courting Willy Clark, but alas
for me I lost my season for Willy is almost crazy about one of the maids
of Manar and I entirely turned old state."
But the letter is mainly
about the new home. "I went to Aberdeen after I saw you and have bought
a chest of drawers. Every one thinks I have a good bargain of them, they
cost five pounds." The very important questions about the new home,
where it was to be, and what, the relative advantages of small and large
farms, or farm and shop, are discussed. The importance of good
buildings, good land, respectable neighborhood and a good Gospel
preacher are stressed with the pith and wisdom all found in the Mother
and Grandmother Stewart of the days to come. Occasional periods, missed
by the writer, in the flow of her ready pen, are all the changes made in
following: "I see you have been looking about you with respect to a farm
and you do me the honour to ask my advice upon the subject. There are
many things to consider before one settle in life. Big farms are
attended with a great deal of care. For my part I would rather prefer
the small farm for the sake of the shop only you would have the business
to learn. And seeing we are upon no hurry I think you should try to get
a place with sufficient houses as that is a great expense for beginners,
and in a respectable neighborhood. But above all see whether the
minister be a clear Gospel preacher and not a cold dry Moralist. O it
would be a shocking thing for us to be settled in a place where we had
not wholesome food for our souls, our hearts are so corrupted that we
are always needing line upon line precept upon precept here a little and
there a little, and all little enough to break the chain of Satan and to
set us in to the glorious liberty of the children of God. With respect
to rent I could not say only for a pound or two back or fore if the
place is commodious and exactly to your mind do not Hand out. We would
be as much for a single house and shop in a town with taxes and coals
and such like. But if you think the land very bad do not take it as bad
land is worse than want. You think your money would have much to do to
set you up and I do not doubt it for it takes more to till a shop than
one would imagine and between us we could not muster above one hundred
pounds. But even this might set us a-going and it would be our wisdom to
walk on as narrow a scale as possible. But I will say no more of this
subject only I hope you will write me as soon as you are on or off with
it as I will be most anxious to know the result. I see you are not
intending to stop past the term but I could not read the word which you
assigned as your reason. May the Lord direct every step that we take for
in all our ways may we acknowledge him and he has promised to direct our
steps. How safe are they whom Jesus leads may we ever follow the calls
of providence."
That letter was written
in September 1834. Next June they were married. David had written
suggesting the eighteenth, Margaret told her mother, but of course that
wouldn't do. For twenty years since 1815 the Battle of Waterloo had been
observed in Widow Maitland's house, and with good reason, as a day of
fasting and sorrow. "Deed an' it will dee" replied her mother, "that day
has been a day n' sorrow and fasting in oor hoose lang eneuch. We'll mak
it limi, an' for a' time to come, a day o' rejoicing."
So it was on Waterloo
day, June the eighteenth that David Stewart and Margeret Maitland set
out upon their great adventure. What was the amount of his savings I
have not learned, but I understand that the young wife's contribution to
the new enterprise was fifty pounds sterling, which, considering the
times, and her limited opportunity, was surely a wonderful achievement.
So the lease was signed, entry made and the marriage solemnized.
THE HOME AT NEWKIRK.
The choice so carefully
made, had been the Newkirk, a small farm, with a small "shoppie" also.
There is no doubt from the letter quoted above that the lady was
advising the shop. At the time of the union of the parishes of Logie and
Coldstone in 1618, a small corner of the said croft was chosen and
detached as a site for the one new church which was designed to replace
the two separate ones theretofore in use but thenceforth not required.
On that site the new church, or Kirk, was eventually built, and
naturally was known as "The New Kirk." This designation continued in use
long after it had ceased to be descriptive of the building, and
ultimately became merely a place-name, applicable to the little hamlet
around the church, and more particularly in modern times to the premises
in which the Stewart business was carried on.
From the first, the
business was a success, the husband working the little farm, making
weekly journeys to Aberdeen, 38 miles distant, for supplies, and putting
in spare time aiding his brave and capable wife in service in the shop.
At first the surrounding
country was poor, ready money exceedingly scarce, and purchases largely
confined to goods absolutely necessary and it is wonderful how poverty
contrives to dispense with many things, today deemed absolutely
essential. Most of the business with farmers would no doubt be
transacted by way of barter, dairy produce being taken in exchange for
goods. The parish school was just beside the shop, and every morning,
just before ten o'clock the school-opening hour, a score or more of
children would come trooping in, one with a basket of eggs or a few
pounds of butter, another with a pail for a pound of molasses or syrup,
and most with orders for merchandise in varying materials and quantities
according to the varying requirements of the several homes represented.
In no case would a written order be given, vet, at the dismissal of the
school at three o'clock to each child, without hesitation or mistake
would he delivered the goods ordered in the morning. Indeed, even in my
own day when the business and complexity of requirements had become much
increased, I do not remember of a mistake ever having been made.
After some years,
dress-making and tailoring departments were added, and the establishment
assumed an appearance more befitting a village or small town than a
country hamlet.
Whatever credit may have
been due to the native caution and business astuteness of the ostensible
head, the popular estimate was that Mrs. Stewart was "the bee that made
the
honey." On her chiefly
devolved, notwithstanding the care of her family, contact with the
numerous customers and the meeting of their needs. Hers it was not only
to consult the taster and preferences of her various patrons, but where
needed to give counsel and instruction to the young and inexperienced,
and not only to give hints as to what in dress was becoming in
appearance and economical in use, but also to give advice or wise
prescription toward recovery or maintenance of health. She was wonderful
in resource, quick in decision and action, as also in repartee. From old
times comes a story of "All Fool's day," when some one, the dupe of
another more cunning than himself, asked of an assistant less cunning
than "the mistress," for a pound of some mythical or impossible kind of
seed. From the mistress, on appeal to her, came the instant reply, "Aye,
if he bring a soo's horn to haud it."
That godfearing and
outstandingly conscientious people such as David Stewart and Margaret
Maitland should have kept alcoholic liquor on sale with all the other
commodities in demand in their community, and that as a matter of
ordinary course, without question or comment, simply shows the customs
of the day. But that they should have been among the first merchants in
all the countryside to give up its sale, while their family lent their
influence strongly to the rising tide of the temperance movement, shows
the kind of people they were.
THE RISE OF THE TEMPERANCE
MOVEMENT
The views and customs at
the end of the first third of the nineteenth century were very different
from those of a third of a century later even in Scotland. At that time
no voice had been raised denouncing the temperate use of intoxicating
liquors. On the contrary, ministers and leaders of what was best in the
community accepted them as gifts from God to be used as their daily
bread, in moderation, for the Divine Glory. Over their cups they would
in all reverence ask the Divine blessing, never suspecting that they
were indulging a habit destined of virtue, hard to control and leading
toward consequences too horrible to contemplate.
At that time, and even to
the time of my own recollection, there was not a single dwelling in the
whole community in which liquor was not kept, and that not alone for
medical purposes for which, in public estimation, it held an exalted
place, but also for use as a beverage. It is true that it was not
generally in daily use in every household, but in every house it was
offered to almost every caller. In social life it was the token and seal
of friendship, and in business transactions the pledge of good-will, if
not the procuring cause of good luck and prosperity.
Not only among the laity
was the u^e of liquor universal, but the clergy, while denouncing
drunkenness, never recommended total abstinence, except perhaps where
the appetite had already got beyond control. The poor drunkard was first
pitied, then blamed, and finally, with character if not possessions also
gone, condemned and ostracised. Minister and people alike would deplore
over their cups the sad and hopeless condition of the inebriate, never
realizing that the source of all the drunkenness, with its bitter trail
of misery and sorrow, was the very practice in which they themselves
were indulging.
As the years went on,
denunciation of the use of intoxicants as a beverage began to be heard
in different parts of the kingdom. "Tee-total societies," as they were
called, began to be formed, and amidst much ridicule and occasional
abuse began to make their influence felt. At last the movement reached
Cromar, and its first convert was one of the Stewarts of Newkirk. Frank
Beattie, the third member of that family, when a young man left the
parental roof temporarily for training in a shop in Banchory, and while
there became a member of a society of pledged abstainers. Immediately on
his return home, and while taking his place as assistant to his father,
he set about the formation of a "tee-total" temperance society in his
native parish. It was then and thus that the present writer heard of a
total abstinence or temperance society of any kind, for the first time.
Soon we had public
lectures, for which the use of the parish school-building and also of
the parish and Free churches was readily obtained. The crusade was
conducted with commendable energy in spite of a good deal of ridicule,
but its success as to securing pledged adherents was not very
conspicuous. Its influence as a moral force, however, is undoubted. One
of the first visible effects was the erasure from the Newkirk sign-board
of the words, "Beer and spirits." Soon thereafter the practice of
serving ardent spirits at funerals ceased or became more controlled, and
before our family left in 1866, it had become a question whether it was
quite right to encourage bidders at auction sales by unduly liberal
libations of intoxicating liquors.
After some experience as
a salesman in London, John Grassick, the eldest of the family, vent into
the dry goods business in Glasgow on his own account, in which lie had,
for some time the assistance of his brother Frank. While there Frank
employed some of his spare time in teaching to read some of the
neglected children of the streets, using, as an introduction to that
art, phonetic literature in the style and type introduced by Sir Isaac
Pitman which he found admirably adapted for that purpose, the transition
from the phonetic to the ordinary English letters and orthography
proving less difficult than had been anticipated. An opportunity of
demonstrating this system to the famous Dr. Thomas Guthrie of Edinburgh
who thought it might be of use in his Ragged Schools was to the end of
his days one of his happiest recollections.
His stay in (;lasgow was
not very long, and at its close, he returned to take an active part in
the business of the shop at Newkirk. That business, commenced in 1835,
continued to prosper until 1870, in which year, on the 28th day of
April, passed from her labours here, the wife and mother who had done so
much to bring comfort and 1prosl,rrity to her husband and family, and
whose guiding hand had so faithfully and so long been employed for the
leading of her household into the ways of honour and of righteousness.
On her would seem to have fallen the mantle of her sainted mother.
Neither to the schools of her day, nor to the environment outside her
home was due the symmetrical character or the mental efficiency by which
she became eventually characterized. To the moulding of all character
that is really excellent, are brought by the Great Architect, forces
unseen and incalculable. Sometimes the means employed is a spoken word.
Sometimes it is a vision of nobility manifested in some fellow bring,
who humbly walks before his God; and, sometimes it would seem as if
descent from a worthy ancestor, gone to their place in the great cloud
of witnesses, has an impelling influence for good. But, behind all
influences, seen and unseen, is the wind that bloweth where it listeth—the
working of the mighty Spirit of the Living God.
THE MURKER FAMILY
Of Grandmother Stewart's
maternal ancestry I have no information but in that of her mother she
would seem to have been most fortunate. The maiden name of her mother,
the "Widow Maitland," was Murker and her brother was the father of Rev.
John Murker, long Minister of the Independent or Congregational church
in the town of Banff, Scotland. From the biography of this worthy man
who was an intimate friend of George Macdonald, it is learned that his
parents were members of the Secession church of Craigdam, of which, by
the way, the devoted but eccentric Mr. Robertson, grandfather of Mrs.
John Stewart, late of Fletcher, Ontario, as then minister. The home of
the Murkers was less than a mile distant from the church at Craigdam,
and some of the members, living at a greater distance would make that
their stopping place. Even as a boy, says his biographer, the future
minister appreciated the eminent character of these excellent people,
but could not help thinking that they imperilled their influence and
warred their usefulness by protracting their religious exercises unduly.
If true, as stated, that one worthv man when conducting family worship
on a Monday morning of a sacramental occasion, continued in prayer for
upwards of three hours, one can sympathise with the youthful John,
nothwithstanding that he was free to say that he did not expect to see
so much of vital religion until he got to Heaven as he had witnessed in
his father's house.
Of him in his mature
years his biographer tells a story that illustrates very well a man's
inability to estimate truly another's faults and failings, as compared
with his own. It seems that Mr. Murker had a particular antipathy to
tobacco whether smoked or chewed, while he was himself exceedingly fond
of snuff. At a meeting in a neighbouring town, he had denounced
unmercifully the filthy habits of smokers and chewers, at the same time,
as he spoke, helping himself most liberally to snuff. On the way home,
he overtook an old woman of his acquaintance who was known to indulge
occasionally in the use of tobacco. "A fine meeting," said the Reverend
John. "Ou aye, nae that ill," she replied, "but, Mr. Murker, would you
allow me tae pit a question tae ye'" "Certainly," was his reply. "Weel,
when the Almichty made man what pairt o' him did He put maist honour on
it" The Minister had no ready answer, so the old lady ventured her own,
"I dinna like to be impident wi' the clergy," she said, "but dinna ye
think it was his nose? We read that when He had made man, He breathed
into's nostrils the breath o' life and man became 'a living sowl. Noo
Mr. Murker, if ye thought as muckle o' yours ye widna mak an ais (ashes)
backet o't."
If at the balance Mr.
Murker failed in this instance, he was nevertheless, a most worthy man,
and would seem to have been a most earnest and successful minister of
the gospel.
Such were the nearest
relatives of Grandmother Stewart, and from an ancestry truly represented
by her mother and her uncle was doubtless in part derived the beauty and
flavor of her unusual character.