It was largely through her efforts that the residence was completed. The trustees of the University offered to give $80,000 towards the funds, provided the women themselves raised a similar amount. This they did, receiving most of it from women graduates in all parts of Canada, the United States, China, and India, who contributed sums varying from one hundred to one thousand dollars, according as they were able.
At the laying of the foundation stone of the new Women’s Residence, called Ban Righ, which translated from the native Gaelic, means, The Hall of the Queen, Dr. Marty gave an inspiring address and declared the stone, “Well and truly laid.”
In 1928 Dr. Marty exchanged work for a year with Mr. Strasheim, the inspector of the West Rand Circuit in South Africa. He came to Toronto and she went to South Africa, accompanied by her sister, Sophie E. Marty.
She thoroughly enjoyed the trip and the fresh contacts in a new land. Everything was interesting to her and the months sped by on happy wings.
Then, in April, she took ill with sciatica. Her heart became affected and she went to the Hillbrow Nursing Home in Johannesburg, where she died on the tenth of May, 1929.
In a letter of appreciation written by F. W. Mills, Inspector of Schools, Johannesburg, he says:
“I gathered from Dr. Marty that our South African ideals of freedom, liberty, independence, etc., are those of Canada. There is, to me, much that is common to the two Dominions — Dr. Marty was a Canadian of Canada but she would have made a real South African.
“She was interested in the Junior Red Cross — we talked much about it — she was going to give her impressions about the Junior Red Cross in Canada and South Africa to Toronto Headquarters when she returned. We looked over the Canadian Magazine (J.R.C.) every month and discussed it and also other exchange copies from other countries which I receive.... She enjoyed all these things and I got ideas and ideals and inspirations from our talk.
“She told me about six weeks before her death that she was enjoying every hour of her stay with us — indeed it was self-evident.”
CHAPTER XVIII. A PUPIL AT SCHOOL: DR. MARGARET MACKELLAR
SEATED among the pupils of the Ingersoll Public School was a young woman of twenty-two. She was not a visitor nor one of the teachers but a student who was taking the lessons with the class. It was a trying position for a person of her age to go to school with small children; but Margaret MacKellar, praying earnestly that the scholars would not make fun of her, did not draw back, even though she feared the finger of scorn. Her prayer was answered for no one made sport of her for sitting at a child’s desk.
There was a girl, who afterwards offered to go as a missionary, attending the High School at that time. She used to meet Margaret MacKellar every day as they went to their respective schools.
“Surely,” she said to herself, “this young woman has some great purpose in life. I would never have had the courage to do what she has done.”
Margaret MacKellar’s girlhood is a history of hardships and difficulties overcome. She was born on the Island of Mull off the west coast of Scotland on the twenty-third of October, 1861, and two years later sailed with her parents and older sister, Annie, for Canada. After a short stay in St. Catharines, Ontario, the family moved to Bruce county where the MacKellars settled on a hundred acre farm, at least it was farm land, though in those days the bush was uncleared. A log cabin was erected and this was Margaret’s home for the next six years. Here she played and romped about the woods and fields with the zest of childhood.
A sad break came in the home life when the mother, whom they loved so dearly, died. Captain MacKellar, whose duties as commander of a ship sailing the Great Lakes took him away throughout the season that navigation was open, moved his family, consisting of Annie and Margaret and a younger girl and boy, to Port Elgin.
Margaret did not get along well with the housekeeper who looked after the children during Captain MacKellar’s long absences. She was only eleven years of age and felt that she was being given more than her rightful share in the household tasks. Strong-willed and full of fun, she rebelled against the unwelcome rule and did many things to tease and annoy.
We are told that “she ate the tender hearts of the young cabbages in the garden and the housekeeper supposed that the neighbour’s rabbits were responsible. She nibbled at the roll-jelly cake in the pantry and the housekeeper removed all the jars and dishes from the pantry shelves and nailed tin over every hole which could possibly give entrance to mice.” From this one can see that Margaret was not a youthful paragon of all virtues but a very human little girl.
Fortunately, however, before long this state of affairs was altered. One day the housekeeper, in a rage because Margaret had neglected to clear up a back kitchen, struck at her with the flat of a carving knife she was carrying with such force that the knife snapped off above the handle. This led to her dismissal and Annie, the oldest of the family, begged that she might take care of the home and her sisters and brother. This proved a happy arrangement.
Margaret found no difficulty with her lessons at school; she was quick and clever and learned readily; but she was apt to get into mischief owing to a lively disposition. Her teacher believed in suiting the punishment to the offence so, when Margaret chewed gum in school, she was obliged to stand before the class and chew with might and main for a certain length of time. Once she took a short cut down a stairway that was forbidden and the result was she had to go up and down the proper stairs until she was tired and weary.
“If we threw snowballs on our way to school,” she tells us, “we were compelled to throw them at a stump for half an hour, and there was no fun in that.”
To her great regret in after life she decided to quit school, although her father and sister, Annie, were keen on her continuing with her studies. For some years she learned the dressmaking and millinery trades, working in Ingersoll and Paris, Ontario.
A great change came into her life when she was eighteen. In an evangelistic meeting held at Port Elgin she resolved to devote herself to God. Just what special work was in store for her she did not know, but when Dr. MacKay of Formosa gave an address in Paris, Ontario, she was stirred in the depths of her soul. A year or so later, when working in London, she heard Robertson of Erromanga speak. Again she felt the urgent need of the heathen but it was not until 1884 that she definitely dedicated herself to the cause of foreign missions.
The first essential was an education and in this she was lacking. Nothing daunted, nevertheless, she resolved to go back to school and started in the First Form of the Ingersoll High School. She was dismayed to find the studies far beyond her. There was nothing else for it but to take an even further step and enter public school. Thus it was, in order to prepare herself for service in the foreign field, that Margaret MacKellar went day by day to learn with small children. The principal of the school wrote a tribute to her character in her autograph book: “The race is not to the swift nor the battle to the strong. Labor omnia vincit.”
The need for medical women in India caused her, after obtaining matriculation, to enroll among the students of medicine at Queen’s University, Kingston. Money was scarce and at times she did not know where the next supply was coming from but, somehow or other, the means were provided and the way made clear for her to finish her education.
At the Designation Service in Ingêrsoll, April 22, 1890, when she was set apart as a missionary of the church, she briefly related the story of her life and how she had been led to consecrate herself to service for others. One young girl in the audience was deeply impressed by her address and longed to follow her example. She spoke of this desire to Dr. MacKellar at the close of the meeting and the latter said:
“When you come to India we will give you a royal welcome, and I’ll come down to Bombay to meet you.”
Twelve years later she had the pleasure of thus greeting the girl, now grown to womanhood, whom her words and life had influenced.
At the time Dr. Margaret MacKellar began practice in I
ndia there was considerable opposition and antagonism to women doctors. Superstition was rife among the people and many thought the coming of the foreigner would bring all manner of disaster. In unfriendly spirit they tried to hinder her in divers ways.
One morning, shortly after she had opened the second dispensary in Neemuch, she found at the door a collection of articles which her native assistant declared to be a curse.
“Do not touch them,” the latter exclaimed, “do not touch them. They will work evil.”
The symbols consisted of the following ingredients which, in combination, were expected to be effective — a corn cob, a cocoanut shell, lemons cut in half, and blood.
As Dr. MacKellar objected to having her doorstep cluttered up with unsightly articles she calmly removed them, though her helper in the dispensary was terrified. No curse ensued and the credulous natives saw that the new medical treatment was not subject to malign influences as they had thought.
It was a stupendous undertaking, bringing the blessing of medical science and care to the benighted women and children of India. When Dr. MacKellar went there in 1890 she, like Dr. Marion Oliver and Dr. Beattie, who had begun the medical work in Indore, had to do a great deal in the homes, as there was no hospital, such as there is to-day, to care for the women and children.
One of her earliest experiences was being called at night to a case a mile or two out of the city. The patient was in a tent, a dirty tent, six by four and about three feet high. It was so tiny that the woman bearing the small lamp had to come out before Dr. MacKellar could get in, and light was furnished by her holding the vessel inside the opening. The sick woman was in great distress, groaning in pain, and after a moment’s hesitation the doctor dropped to her hands and knees and crawled into the tent.
“I had,” states Dr. MacKellar, “to remain on my knees on the ground with my head brushing against the top of the tent. What about the patient? The poor thing was lying on mother earth.... Beside her was one wee mortal who had come into this world about twelve hours before. After administering chloroform... another little cherub was placed beside the first. They both had to be wrapped in my apron as there was no clothing for them. And yet, in spite of it being the cold season, and in spite of the dirt, poverty, want of clothing and antiseptic surroundings, the mother and her children throve.”
Dr. MacKellar believed in having the native women trained to help those of their own race and often used to say: “It is better to set ten men to work than to try to do the work of ten.” Accordingly she trained young girls as nurses and workers in other lines and, through her agency, a number of young women prepared themselves for medical service by taking special courses in the Ludhiana Medical School.
India has been troubled by many epidemics of plague. Whenever these occurred Dr. MacKellar was indefatigable in her endeavours to relieve the terrible sickness that attacked the people. As Dr. B. Choné Oliver states, when writing of her unselfish efforts in this regard: “She would go to any trouble to rescue one child.”
When the new hospital at Neemuch was dedicated, twenty years after she first began work, Dr. MacKellar was honored by receiving the Kaiser-i-Hind Medal for public services in India, conferred on her by the Government in recognition of her notable devotion to duty during the ravages of the plague.
She had given whole-heartedly of her time and strength when the dreadful famine of 1899 and 1900 decimated the people of Central India and for these, as well as other services, her name was among those in the honor list at the time of the King-Emperor’s Coronation Durbar. At the great Delhi Durbar in December, 1912, she was the only missionary in the camp of the Political officers in Central India, and was there as an honored guest.
CHAPTER XIX. A DAUGHTER OF THE EMPIRE: MARGARET POLSON MURRAY
PERCHED high among the branches of a large cherry tree, a young girl of seventeen peered mischievously through the foliage. Below, in the garden, two ladies were walking back and forth, engaged in earnest conversation. At intervals in their promenade they reached the vicinity of the tree and almost invariably a shower of fruit descended on the parasols they were carrying to shield them from the sun.
This seemed very strange indeed and they could not understand how it happened. Neither, however, noticed the slight figure hidden in the leafy bower, from where, with accurate aim, came the teasing missiles.
Margaret Poison was quite well aware what they were discussing, for it concerned herself very closely. In fact it was about her own marriage that Mrs. Poison and Mrs. Murray were talking and what young girl would not be interested in such a subject!
The wedding took place in her father’s house in Paisley, Scotland, and then the young couple set sail for Canada. Margaret’s husband, J. Clark Murray, was a professor in Queen’s University, Kingston, Ontario, and in that town they made their home.
Margaret Poison was born in Paisley, Scotland, in 1844, one of a family of seven, five daughters and two sons. Mr. Poison, a prominent manufacturer, had a summer home at Innellan on the Clyde and here the children passed many happy days. It was Margaret who looked after the moving of the family to their summer quarters and made all the necessary arrangements for their comfort.
Boating, driving and riding were their favorite pastimes. Margaret and her sisters were expert in handling the oars and delighted to row far enough out in the river to catch the swell from passing steamers. With joy they hailed the large waves that made the small rowboat dance up and down in the water.
The Poison home was a popular one with the young people. At that time it was the fashion for young men to ride a great deal, and often the stables were filled with horses whose owners had come to spend a pleasant week-end with the Poisons.
In music Margaret showed marked ability. She was very fond of this study and when attending school at Glasgow was accustomed to rise early in the morning, even in the cold winter days, in order to practise the piano. Her teacher urged that she be sent to the continent to continue work along this line, since she showed so much talent, but Mr and Mrs. Poison did not consider this a suitable course for their young daughter. Throughout her life she was always interested in anything pertaining to music and assisted in developing the musical talent of those around her.
Margaret Murray soon became attached to the new country where she had come to live and this affection, mingled with love for the land of her birth, engendered a patriotic feeling that, later on, was the means of bringing the women of the British Empire into closer union.
During the South African war Mrs. Murray was the originator of an association to tend the graves of our soldiers who were killed in battle. While busy with this plan she realized how little one part of the Empire knew about the other and she longed to do what she could to draw the women of the Dominions and the Motherland together, for the common good of all.
To unite the far-flung nations of the British Empire, to perpetuate the ideals and traditions that have made it what it is, and to foster a feeling of relationship, of sisterhood in one large family, among the women who live under the banners of the British Flag, these were her objectives. With untiring zeal she worked, arousing enthusiasm in others and enabling them to see the vision that had been granted to her.
The result of her labour was the founding of the Imperial Order Daughters of the Empire. Gradually the Order has grown in Canada until now there is no part of the Dominion where it is not represented. Chapters have been established from coast to coast and the names enrolled as members number over thirty thousand.
The Order is a lasting monument to Margaret Murray’s memory. Its aim is to deepen patriotic spirit among the women and children who dwell “under a flag on which the sun never sets” and to bond them together in friendship. The members are pledged to promote harmony and unity between the various nations that form the vast British Empire.
For my house and thy house, no help shall we find,
Save thy house and my house, kin cleaving to kind.
If my house be taken, thin
e rumbleth anon;
If my house be forfeit, thine followeth soon.
In all her activities Mrs. Murray was not self-seeking. When at all possible she kept in the background and did her work unobtrusively. From the time she came to Canada as a young bride until her death she was devoted to the land of her adoption. Though there was much that was different in the lives and customs of those about her to what she had been accustomed across the seas, she never criticized, nor compared the new with the old to the disadvantage of the former. In the new country she saw great possibilities for young men and women to carve out careers for themselves and did all in her power to encourage Scottish and English youth to settle in Canada.
She was always willing and ready to help others. Her daughter, Elizabeth Murray, tells an incident which exemplifies this.
“We had,” she states, “at one time, when we were quite young children, a governess with decided literary talent. She was indolent about writing and so my mother used to send her to her room with orders not to come out until she had written up some episode. This would be done and sold to good account and the governess finally became editor-in-chief of a well-known magazine.”
Mrs. Murray had a decided sense of humour. Her daughter relates the following story:
“After living in Canada my mother used to speak, during her visits home to Scotland, of the comfort that could be got from a system of central heating. On one particular occasion, at a dinner party, she was giving her views on this subject. Everyone present disagreed with her and three gentlemen in particular were strong in asserting that heated houses must be unhealthy.
The Complete Works of L M Montgomery Page 785