A.D. 1884-1885
SOME OF A. L. O. E.’S POSSESSIONS
Some little time before this Mr. Baring had, for various reasons, decided
to leave Batala, though not, it seems, to give up his interest in the
High School. His departure was fixed for the last day of the year 1883;
and Miss Tucker, after her usual cheerful fashion, congratulated herself
upon the fact that, at least, the New Year would not begin with a parting.
Much uncertainty had prevailed as to who should be chosen to carry on
Mr. Baring’s most important work among the boys; but before the end of
December suspense was ended. Another of Miss Tucker’s dharm-nephews, the
Rev. Herbert U. Weitbrecht, with his wife and children, would come to
live in Anarkalli, and Mr. Weitbrecht would be the Principal. By this
time a Mission Bungalow in Batala was finished, and two German ladies,
Miss Hoernle and Miss Krapf, came in the course of December to reside in
it. Miss Tucker, however, does not yet appear to have thought of changing
her quarters. Indeed, the little bungalow was built to contain only two
ladies.
On December 27th she wrote home as to arrangements:--
‘The Weitbrechts are to come here on Jan. 15 for about a
fortnight. I am to keep house until they come for good about
the middle of March; and then my fair niece, Ellie, is to
take the reins. She and her two children must go to the Hills
in May. All purpose going to England in the following March.
As Herbert did not wish to be buying much furniture, when so
soon to be on the wing, I felt it the best plan to take some
off dear Francis’ hands, and let the Weitbrechts have the use
of them. Thus, I find myself the possessor of a very large
bed, immensely long table, and a variety of other things too
numerous to recount.
‘There is no use in my not wanting possessions,--they will
come! I have even a large coffin, which is not the slightest
use to me! I did _not_ buy _that_ from Francis!...’
The fact of Miss Tucker including a coffin amongst her possessions
requires a word of explanation. About this time the Rev. Robert Clark
went to pay a little visit to Batala; and on his first arrival he was
shown straight to the room which he would occupy while there. Miss Tucker
came running in, and exclaimed--
‘I hope you have not seen it,--have you?’
Mr. Clark naturally inquired what was the thing in question which she
wished him not to have seen.
‘I had better tell you all about it,’ she said. ‘A poor woman was dying,
and we thought they would take her away and burn her; and we wished to
give her Christian burial. So I ordered a coffin to be made. But they
were late in making it, and she died before it was ready; and they took
her away and burnt her. And then they brought the coffin. It was a very
good coffin, and I thought it would be useful; so I told them to put it
under the bed in the guest-room! You did not see it, did you?’ Mr. Clark
no doubt assured her that he had not yet made the discovery; and she went
on eagerly: ‘You must not think I kept it for myself; for I have directed
in my will that I should be buried without a coffin, and that my funeral
expenses must not exceed five rupees.’
The latter injunction was with a view to lessening funeral expenses among
Indian Christians generally, many of them being apt to spend heavily at
such times. But the whole story is eminently characteristic. Many people
shrink from the very mention of a coffin, because of its associations.
Not so Charlotte Tucker! There was to her absolutely no sadness whatever
in the thought of death. She looked forward to the day of her departure
from earth as to a day of release from bondage, of an upward spring into
a new and radiant life. It was a subject to be spoken of cheerily, and
with a smile.
What became of the coffin in the end Mr. Clark does not say; but he too
speaks, as do others, of her entire fearlessness with regard to death.
Once, when talking of it to him, she quoted impressively the words, used
long before by her gentle sister, Fanny: ‘Whenever, wherever, however, He
will!’
One time, when Mr. Clark was spending a Sunday at Batala with Miss
Tucker, she read aloud to him the 31st verse of the 40th chapter
of Isaiah, and drew attention to the fact that the verse had in it
instruction and comfort for persons of all ages.
‘“They shall mount up with wings as eagles,”--that is something for our
young people; they are always soaring and flying. “They shall run, and
not be weary,”--that is for our middle-aged people; they run and work
on, and never seem to tire. And there is something for us old people
too,--“They shall walk and not faint.” We old people cannot fly; we
cannot run; but we can walk, and do not faint. And so we all of us renew
our strength by waiting on the Lord.’
Mr. Clark, from whom these details have come direct, writes also:--
‘On another occasion, she came walking up to me in her genial,
brisk manner, with a book in her hands, as I entered the
room, and said, “You will be surprised when I tell you what
book I am reading! You know I am a good Churchwoman; and yet
I often like to read Spurgeon’s sermons. They are full of
apt illustrations, and he never repeats himself. I find them
so useful in my writings; and I know hardly any other work
which so much helps me.” In her latter years she often read
Shakespeare, and recommended it to educated Natives, who
were averse to the study of the Bible. The recitations from
Shakespeare, at the Prize-giving in the Baring High School
in Batala, originated with her; and she thought them very
valuable in the formation of character. The Prologues in these
Prize-givings were, I think, till last year all written by her.’
Not only in later days, but all through her life from very childhood, she
had delighted in Shakespeare, as we have already seen; and she had a very
high opinion of the value of Shakespeare in the general education of the
Indian mind.
In confirmation of certain words above, spoken by herself, Mr. Clark
observes: ‘As regards her religious views, she was sincerely attached
to the Church of England, firmly believing that the teaching of the
Church of England, as set forth in the Book of Common Prayer and in the
Thirty-nine Articles, is in accordance with the Word of God.’ Another
also, who knew her well, has said: ‘A warm Churchwoman, she would always
be ready to see the best of those with whom she could not agree on many
points.’ This undoubtedly was the case,--in practice, if not always in
theory. She was, however, greatly opposed to Ritualism, and would be much
distressed when she came across aught of the kind in her various visits
to different places.
The subject recalls involuntarily certain words uttered by Bishop French
of Lahore,--‘our saintly Bishop,’ as Miss Tucker called him. When he was
at home some years ago, and staying at Eastbourne, I happened to put to
him a question bearing on this matter; and his reply was one not soon
to be forgotten. He said: ‘IT IS NO QUESTION OUT THERE OF HIGH CHURCH
AND LOW CHURCH! IT IS A QUESTION SIMPLY OF CHRISTIANITY AND HEATHENISM!’
To this wide and comprehensive view Charlotte Tucker could not have
fully subscribed. In her letters, from time to time, though not often,
the subject crops up, and she expresses her fears strongly as to one
individual or another. But it is noteworthy that when, soon after, she
meets with the individual himself, her fears are usually quieted; and
while conscious of differences on certain points, she is yet able fully
to recognise--and to recognise with delight--real devotion of heart and
life to the Service of the Master Whom she loved. No more unmistakable
token can well exist of true large-heartedness. There was in her no
innate love of controversy for its own sake; and though, as might be
expected with one of her impulsive temperament, she sometimes expressed
her views with energy, she did not love fighting, nor was she a violent
partisan. As a general rule, her aim was rather to build up than to pull
down.
The years 1884 and 1885 passed in the main quietly, marked by no especial
events. Work went steadily on as usual; holidays were short as usual;
failure and success fluctuated as usual. Miss Tucker’s loneliest time
in Batala was over. Now she not only lived with the family of Mr. and
Mrs. Weitbrecht, but two other lady Missionaries were settled in Batala,
helping to carry on the work. Not that Charlotte Tucker’s toil was
lessened thereby. She had a less heavy weight of responsibility; but so
far as actual work was concerned it could never be overtaken,--and it
could not have been overtaken by twice or thrice the number of workers.
Fresh openings were continually appearing, continually calling for
attention.
In the hot weather, indeed, she had a taste of her old manner of life.
Then, when other Europeans were compelled one after another to flee to
the Hills, Miss Tucker could safely remain on many weeks longer; up to a
certain point even enjoying the heat. On the whole, however, things were
altered. Not only were other Europeans in Batala most of the year, but
a railway had now been completed between Amritsar and Batala, bringing
all the Amritsar friends within a very easy distance. It became possible
to run over to Batala for a day’s visit; and Miss Tucker grew jealously
anxious, lest such visitors should in any wise hinder her work. ‘I have
let it be known,’ she wrote, ‘that I do not consider myself _off duty_
till 2 P.M., so that if friends come in the morning they visit the house
and not me. I must try to be firm in this, and make no exceptions.’
A certain little incident of this period may be mentioned. With a new
Principal, naturally new plans were adopted in the training of the boys;
and Miss Tucker did not always at first take kindly to fresh ideas. She
was now of an age to prefer the old to the new, simply because it was the
old. Dr. Weitbrecht writes:--
‘In 1885, by way of encouraging muscular exercise in the hot
weather, I tried the experiment of having the boys taught
wrestling by a Native athlete. The Auntie was at first inclined
to be a little shocked at the new development, and would not
grace the wrestling practice with her presence. One day, as it
was going on, Mrs. Weitbrecht went to a window overlooking the
arena, and there found Miss Tucker, stretched on the floor, her
head out of the low window. In some alarm lest the old lady
should have fainted, she offered to raise her, but was only met
with the reply, “Hush! I’m looking at the boys.” The ladies
soon saw they were discovered, as a handsome young Pathan
looked up with a smiling “Salaam.”’
Extracts from the letters of these two years, 1884 and 1885, must
unfortunately, for lack of space, be very limited in number.
‘_New Year’s Day, 1884._--I had a very sore parting with Mera
Bhatija; but on that I will not dwell....
‘The last day of 1883 was a very sad one to me; but I had
some of the little boys in the evening, and amusing them
shook me out of my melancholy. I awoke early--as usual--on the
New Year’s Day, and sang New Year’s hymns. After that I heard
unwonted music below my window. Good Miss Krapf and three of
the Singha girls had come to salute the New Year with a holy
song. Of course, I went to the city after breakfast.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘_Jan. 21._
‘I am quite _glad_ that my furniture is so simple. Had I had
plenty of gimcracks, I might have been a fidgety old maid.
As it is, there is no harm in having a nursery instead of a
drawing-room. But I have a nice little drawing-room of my own;
a screened-off bit of my fine large sleeping-room. I used it
for my classes when sweet Margaret was here; for I think that a
married couple should not be always having interruptions. This
arrangement does nicely in the cool weather; and in the hot
weather dear Nellie and her babes will be in the Hills. It will
be the old arrangement of Auntie and one choice nephew,--for
Herbert _is_ choice, and kind to my Leila’s attached godmother.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘_Jan. 28, 1884._
‘I feel as if I must have a talk with my Laura to-night; for my
spirit feels pensive and my heart tender. The ladies came and
took tea with us; and Miss Krapf brought her music. As Herbert
wanted to see a photo of St. George and Francie, I took my dear
old album into the drawing-room, which it very seldom enters.
While the sweet, rich music was going on, I was--yes, sighing
over my Album. More than twenty of the faces in it no longer of
earth! Sweet Mother, Fanny, Henry, Letitia, Aunt E----,--oh, so
many gone before! Then my Laura looked so like what she did in
old days. I must not look often over _that_ Album; it is like
my youth between two boards. What a changing world!’
* * * * *
‘_March 26._--I met with a perfectly mad woman in a Hindu
Zenana. She came and sat down beside me. V. and others made me
change my seat to another bedstead--the usual seat. I did not
at first know why, but was soon aware of the cause. The poor,
afflicted woman put her head right down on my lap. She did not
seem to be mischievous. It was insanity, not idiotcy.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘_April 22, 1884._
‘Among the little matters which vary our regular life at
Batala, I may mention almost nightly alarms about robbers.
The servants have got into a nervous state.... It is not a
comfortable state of affairs.... The Weitbrechts and I have been
putting our heads together. I forget which of us suggested the
plan which we hope may succeed. I sleep in the front room,
opposite to the servants’ house; so a great tumult naturally
awakens me, especially as my windows are open for air. The
Weitbrechts are more out of the way.
‘Herbert is to lend me his revolver, loaded, and we are to take
care that every one knows that I have the formidable weapon;
but no one but ourselves is to know that I would on no account
hurt any one with it. On the next alarm of robbers, I am to
jump up, and--fire--at the trees or the stars. The report
will probably awake Herbert, who has a rifle. Now you see the
double use of this arrangement. My Ayah may possibly even sleep
out-of-doors, if she knows that a yell from her may bring a
pistol-shot from her vigilant Miss Sahiba; and robbers, if
such there be, will doubtless dread my prowess, not knowing
how peculiarly peaceable I am, and that I would prefer being
shot myself to shooting another! I am to have a very determined
look; and we have all tutored each other _not to laugh_! Both
Herbert and Nellie have some fun in them, but they are to
look as grave as judges, as if Miss Sahiba were a dead shot;
especially on a very dark night, when there is no moon! Have I
not spectacles?’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘_April 23._
‘Well, my loved sister, if you read my little note to Leila
first, you will be pleased to hear that the night went
over serenely. Even my frightened Ayah seems to have slept
peacefully under the wing of the Buzurg Miss Sahiba, armed
with a revolver! Would not dear Rowland have laughed to see
old Auntie learning from Herbert how to cock and fire a
pistol! I wonder how Nellie kept her countenance, when one
of the servants expressed a hope that Miss Sahiba would give
some notice before firing, for fear of a casualty to one of
the household; and then wanted to know what would happen if
Miss Sahiba _killed_ a thief! Nellie told the inquirer that
we English--she was too truthful to say the Miss Sahiba in
particular--only aimed at limbs to disable, not at bodies to
kill. Nellie knows pretty well that, if _I_ aimed at anything,
it would be at the stars.
‘I took care to lock up my dangerous weapon before sunrise,
treating my revolver with great respect. Do you remember that,
when I was known to be coming out to India as a Missionary,
dear, kind H. Boswell wanted to make me a present of his
pistol? I declined it, as a very unnecessary part of a
Missionary’s outfit; but I could not help remembering H.’s
kindness yesterday. Though I never fired Herbert’s revolver,
yet the _report_ of it--to speak in Irish style--had a great
effect.’
* * * * *
‘_May 3._--O yes, my Laura, _love_ your K.[115] The Native is
affectionate. Indians are not usually considered grateful;
perhaps they are not grateful for benefits bestowed through
general benevolence or a sense of duty; but my impression is
that they readily respond to _affection_. This is one of the
great secrets of ----‘s power.... I was rather amused yesterday,
when I was describing Philemon’s funeral to the dear Pandit of
O---- (K. S.), and had said that we went singing towards the
grave. “I will not sing at _your_ funeral,” said he. And then
he told me how he had _tried_ to sing at dear Margaret’s--but
it was quite a failure; he could not sing, his heart was much
troubled. The Pandit is a lovable man; and he loves.’
* * * * *
‘_May 8, 1884._ (_Her Birthday._)
‘When I came down in the morning before 6 A.M. I found in
letters of gold on a purple ground over the large front door,
“God save our beloved Miss Sahiba.” I told dear Babu Singha
when we met, as I walked on towards the city, that I liked the
“our.” He observed that “buzurg” seemed to put me farther away
from them. I quite agreed. I like “our,” which makes me seem
like the boys’ property....
‘I was surprised in a Zenana to-day by a request for some _old_
article of my clothes for a baby. “I will give you some new
cloth,” said I; for I make exceptions to my rule of not giving
presents to Natives in Zenanas, in favour of new babies and
brides. But the grandfather did not want _new_ cloth at all. He
insisted on something old. So I humoured him, and looked out on
my return home for something that I had worn....
‘How much I have to be thankful for, my Laura! I begin my Tenth
September with a quiet, peaceful feeling. “Oh, how kindly hast
Thou led me, Heavenly Father, day by day.” But the best is to
come. “Light after darkness--” Not that my present position is
darkness; but there is often weariness, of course.’
* * * * *
‘_May 15._--I can so well enter into the “thought and anxiety”
caused by ----. His mind is probably in an effervescing
state; but we must trust and pray that, after the froth
works down, something precious may remain. Young India is at
present in a peculiar state; and ---- does not stand alone
in his dangerous love for oratory. You must expect, love, to
see some of the weaknesses of the Native character even in
those on whom our Blessed Religion has made an impression.
With the English--Truth, Honour, and a sense of Duty are
often found even in those _not_ very religious, and it shocks
and disappoints one to find the want of this kind of moral
foundation in some Natives, whose piety one cannot doubt!! “I
must do my duty,”--“Honour bright!”--are expressions that in
this land need to be taught.
‘The Native character is a study. _We_ can hardly disconnect
pious feeling from purity and conscientiousness. One must make
great allowance for those brought up in a tainted atmosphere.
Do not be easily discouraged, love. India does turn out some
really fine fellows; but a school like this is greatly needed,
to begin _moral_ tuition early. We want our flowers to have
stalks and leaves, and not to spread out their petals so close
to the earth as to be defiled by its dust. Let ---- expand his
eloquence in trying to draw ryots[116] to Christ. Close contact
with really hard evangelistic work, if persevered in, would
probably do much to sober his mind. Let him be persuaded that
the Baptism of one true Convert, however ignorant and poor, is
a far higher honour than the plaudits of an English audience.’
* * * * *
‘_July 3, 1884._--I have had two comical though not very
pleasant incidents.
‘I sent dear Mrs. Singha as a present what I believed to be a
bottle of lemon syrup, delicious in hot weather.... When next I
went to the Banyans, Mrs. Singha told me that I had sent her
a bottle of _brandy_! I was astonished,--I, who am virtually
a teetotaller! I could hardly believe it. She produced the
bottle; and, sure enough, it was full of brandy. What a villain
of a grocer must have sold it, thought I, smuggling brandy
in this way.... “This is sure to be trashy brandy,” thought I,
“which I should not dare to give in a case of illness.” So,
in my indignation, I poured it all out on the grass. I also
thought that I would write to good Babu ---- at Lahore, who
had bought the bottle for me, to tell him of the wicked cheat
played on him. Most fortunately, I first mentioned the matter
to Herbert. “Do you not remember,” said he, “that when we
wanted a large bottle, you emptied your brandy into a small
one?” I had perfectly forgotten the fact. O stupid, most
stupid, old Auntie! And I had emptied my bottle on the grass!
‘The next incident was also a provoking one. You know that
I have had boils. Well, Herbert said ... that the best way
to stop a boil was, at the very first threatening, to put
caustic to the place. So I bought a bit of caustic, knowing
as much about it as I do of Hebrew.... Just before starting for
afternoon Wednesday Service in the city, I thought that I had
the slightest possible sensation of a boil on my nose. “Not a
pretty place to have a boil on,” thought I; so I took out my
wee grey stone, dipped it in water, and applied it. It did not
burn at all, so I applied it again. Then, seeing a black spot,
hardly visible except through spectacles, off I went to Service.
‘On returning home, to prepare to go out to Miss Hoernle’s,
how surprised--I may say almost shocked--was I, on looking in
my glass! A big black smutch on my nose; another on my chin;
and another on my thumb. Washing was of no avail; salts of
lemon none; chloride of lime none; soap useless! I could not
help laughing, I was such a figure; and my Ayah laughed too. I
determined to give it to Herbert roundly for putting me up to
make such a fright of myself.... As soon as I could get hold of
my naughty nephew, who was playing at lawn tennis as happily
as if nothing had happened, I scolded him in Miss Hoernle’s
presence as hard as I could,--considering that both of us were
laughing. At last my wrath blazed into verse:--
‘“You told me it would make me smart,--
The fear of pain was slight;
You have not made me smart at all,--
You’ve made me just a fright!”’
* * * * *
‘_July 10._--You will like to know that I have managed almost
entirely to get rid of those spots, which made me think of Lady
Macbeth, and gave me rather a dislike to the use of caustic;
for one does not like to appear as if one never washed either
face or hands.’
In November another sorrow came; the death of Miss Tucker’s nephew in
Canada, Charles Tucker, whom she had visited before starting for India.
He was one of her ‘Robins’ of earlier days; and she felt the loss much.
It was in the course of 1884 that Miss Tucker related to her sister a
certain Christian Pandit’s dream. His wife had long been dangerously ill,
and the husband had tenderly nursed her. No other Christians lived in the
village except these two; and no one but the husband had been near the
dying woman for many days.
‘I think it was the day before the sufferer’s departure,’ wrote
Miss Tucker, ‘that the Pandit fell asleep; but as he said, “In
sleep I was praying.” He dreamt that he heard a voice say, “I
will take her; she suffers so much!” Another Voice, which he
thinks was a Divine one, said, “Wait!” On waking, the Pandit
went to his wife. She told him that Jesus Christ had stood by
her, and laid His Hand on her head. “How did you know Him?”
asked the husband. “_His Side was red!_” Whether the appearance
was a dream or not, it gave comfort. The sufferer departed at
last in peace.’
There is no necessity for any one to believe this, on the part of either
husband or wife, to have been more than a natural dream--a reflex of the
state of mind and thought previously. At the same time, it is undoubtedly
possible that help or comfort, whichever was required, might be sent
through the medium of a dream. Several remarkable instances of dreams are
mentioned from time to time by Miss Tucker in her letters,--occasionally
vivid enough to decide a Muhammadan on the great step of becoming a
Christian. There is many a simple and natural means by and through which
God speaks to the heart; and dreams _may_ sometimes be one of those
means,--especially in ‘Early Church days.’
One other instance of the kind can be mentioned here, while the subject
is to the fore. In Charlotte Tucker’s Journal, some few years later,
occurs the following singular little entry, when she is describing a
visit to a certain village:--
‘_Aug. 16._--J. R. told me dream of Christ, which he had had
three or four years ago. Indignantly repudiated idea that my
pictures were like Him Who was so much more beautiful. I read
part of description of Christ in Rev. i.; but the old man, with
simple truthfulness, said that _that_ was for the superior
person who had written. He was a poor man; he had only seen the
white dress and beautiful shining Face. I asked if he had seen
it distinctly. “Do I see you who are before me?” he replied.
“So I saw Him.” His nephew certified to J. R. having told him
of this dream soon after having it.’
It is very probable that the old man might have been dwelling on the
thought of Christ, consciously or unconsciously endeavouring to picture
the Divine Form to himself; and the dream _may_ have been a perfectly
natural consequence of his own cogitations. But to say that a thing is or
may be natural is _not_ to say that it can have been in no sense Divinely
sent, or that it might not bring quickened realisation with it.
The New Year’s Day of 1885 was not altogether cheerful, despite
courageous efforts made, and parties of Indians: children in the
afternoon, seniors in the evening. Two unfortunate Hindus were
accidentally drowned in one of the large Batala tanks; happily not that
tank which lay close to the palace, wherein the schoolboys were wont to
disport themselves. This naturally threw a shadow over the proceedings of
the day.
Early in the year came a letter from the Bishop of Lahore to Miss
Tucker:--
‘_Jan. 10._
‘DEAR FRIEND AND SISTER IN CHRIST,--May I venture to ask if
in the little room you may assign me kindly, during my short
visit to Batala, a little cot may be placed for a brother of
mine from New Zealand (a brother in Christ also), who is always
pleased to _chum_ with me, as he does at Bishopstow also, our
house being full?
‘I am sorry to say my visit must be limited to a sojourn with
you from Friday, 30th January, to Tuesday, February 3, as
the Ajnala work hedges me in behind, and Lahore and Amritsar
Confirmations before. May I ask your special prayers, lest this
rather overpowering crush of work may not impair strength of
mind or tone of spirit, both of which I have a little reason to
dread at this season? It is a comfort to know and to be assured
that our Faithful Lord will “stablish and keep us from evil.”
May His peace, and love with faith, be our portion; and then in
the storm we may sing our watchword, “All well.”--I am, yours,
with ever affectionate and grateful regards,
‘THOMAS V. LAHORE.
‘Affectionate good wishes to your whole party.
‘This will, alas! break up my itinerating plan; not for ever, I
trust.’
A fortnight later Miss Tucker wrote to her sister, on January 24:--
‘You will have seen in the paper that our good Bishop has lost
his daughter. I wrote to him a little note of sympathy which
he was not to answer; but he did reply in his own gracious,
characteristic style. We expect the Bishop here next week for
a Confirmation; and he has asked leave to bring a Christian
brother from New Zealand. Whether the brother be an emigrant or
one of the aborigines, we know not. We are prepared for either.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘_Feb. 4, 1885._
‘The interesting Confirmation took place on Saturday, ... after
which we partook of the Holy Communion. I think Herbert said
that there were 41 Communicants. We never had so many before in
our chapel. The dear, saintly Bishop left on Tuesday morning.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘_March 28, 1885._
‘You should have seen Ellie and me down on the floor to-day,
pinning down the dusters for the chess-board. It so happens
that there is an unusual influx of Native Christian visitors
at present--R. R., his winsome lady and two daughters, J.’s
mother, and S., a fledged bird, and these with the numerous
Singhas and the Native Pastor will make quite a gathering. I
rather expect to play badly; but the great thing is to be
quick and dashing, and to move as many pieces as possible;
and not to be disturbed by the bursts of laughter likely to
follow any check given or piece taken. Would you not like to be
present,--near me?
‘Well, as I rather expected, I was beaten, though I had the
best of the game at first. I never heard such noisy pieces
of chess as the dear brown boys were, when they were first
marshalled on the board, and had to don their crowns, regal or
mural, their mitres and their horses’ heads. Our Afghan hero,
C. C., was a knight, and enjoyed himself very much. I think
that there was only one piece, or at most two, that was not
moved.’
* * * * *
‘_April 23, 1885._--My nephew Herbert ... is absent again on
Mission work. He has heard that there is a spirit of earnest
inquiry amongst a number of poor low-caste village folk, I
think about ten or eleven miles from Batala. He has gone to
look personally into the matter; and if he finds that these
lowly peasants are really seeking after God, we will try to
make some arrangement for their instruction. Herbert will see
if it be advisable for an English lady and Native Bible-woman
to go for a short time, and to fix some suitable agent (Native)
to reside amongst the poor people, and start a school. Of
course, this involves expense; but if corn at last be springing
up, it must not be neglected. It is such a comfort to have one,
wise, good, and active, like dear Herbert, to look after such
matters....
‘If you happen to meet with dear Mrs. W----, please tell her
that her Cross gleams in my room every night. Her pretty straw
basket is so _much_ admired in the zenanas....
‘Our Church-building is growing rapidly under Herbert’s
auspices. The “Mission Plough” too surprises me by its
growth. I hear that there are 105 boys there now. But we have
not a sufficiently strong staff of teachers. The Inspector
(Government) was pleased with the school, but said that we
should have a stronger staff. We know that too.’
* * * * *
‘_May 8._--I saw Miss B. a few days ago. She saw you in London,
and thought that we resembled each other. “But I hope that my
sister looks much younger than I do,” said I. “Does she look
twenty years younger?” To my satisfaction, Miss B. agreed that
you did. So my Laura keeps her looks, though not feeling so
strong as I should wish her to do.’
* * * * *
‘_June 22, 1885._ ... I must amuse ---- with the following
_perfectly authentic_ anecdote. There was a nice young couple,
as nice as Fred and Maud perhaps, and they had a nice little
baby. One day the inexperienced Mamma banged the baby’s head.
Accidents _will_ happen, you know, in the best-regulated
families. The young mother was conscientious; she felt that she
ought to confess the banging to the father of the child. With
tearful eyes she went to her husband, and owned that she had
banged her baby’s head. Then the husband, gaining courage from
the brave woman’s truthfulness, confessed that _he had done the
very same_! he had banged the baby’s head, but had not liked to
own it. The baby does not appear to have been the worse for the
two bangs; perhaps they were on opposite sides of the little
head, and counteracted each other. Still--fathers and mothers
had better not try the experiment of how much banging a baby
will bear. Don’t you think so, darling?’
* * * * *
‘_July 13._--I was interested in hearing what was said to
E. by the lad last baptized.... “I have nearly got through my
temptations,” said he. Of course, I cannot give his exact
words, which were in Urdu; but their drift. The lad thought
that forty days of temptation succeed a convert’s Baptism, and
said, “I have only eleven left.” ... “But do you think that you
will never be tempted afterwards?” asked E. Poor B. did not
think that, but he thought that the first forty days were the
worst; and perhaps he is right.’
* * * * *
‘_Nov. 13, 1885._--I think that it will amuse you and my dear
god-daughter, if I tell you of my first attempt regularly to
make a marriage, and what were the consequences thereof.
‘I had been told by the experienced Native Christian, whom I
will call M., the proper way to carry on a negotiation. He told
me long ago that a “Buzurg” (elder) should ask the parents for
the maid. There being a union which we Missionaries thought
suitable and desirable, ... I, the most buzurg of all our circle,
at the desire of the fine young suitor,--whom I will call
B.,--went in my duli to M.’s house, to ask his lovely daughter
in marriage for my client. I managed to have both parents
present, and sent the maiden away. It would have been a great
breach of etiquette for her to have heard me.
‘I felt that I was doing all in proper Oriental style. The
parents listened; we talked over the advantages of the union;
and M. and his wife were to give me their reply on the
following day.
‘But Orientals take their time. I heard nothing on the
following day; so on the third I sent my salaam to M. and
desired to see him. He came, smiled, was highly agreeable, said
that _he_ was willing, but must consult his brother, etc.
‘_I_ thought that some one else should be consulted; namely,
the young lady. I was going to Amritsar ... so I resolved to
have a private interview with the maiden, whose future was to
be decided upon. The lovely--let’s call her X.--had returned
to ----; so there I sought her, and had a _tête-à-tête_. I
wanted to know whether _she_ cared for B., whom she had had
many opportunities of seeing from her childhood.... We had almost
taken it for granted that X. must care for him.
‘Hitherto all had gone pretty smoothly. I had even thought what
presents I should give, and the Weitbrechts and I had talked
over the day for the wedding. But an unexpected obstacle arose.
X. could make no objection to B.; I do not think that she has a
thought for any other suitor; but she does not want to marry at
all! “I want to read,” she said. “I wish to remain _like you_!”
‘This opened our eyes to a peril in the infant Church, of
which you probably never would dream. Ellie and I set to
counting up young maidens who are of a suitable age to become
brides,--well-educated, nice girls,--and came to the conclusion
that a kind of fashion is setting in _not to marry_. The Native
delights in imitating the European. The girls see that most
female Missionaries, whom they love and honour, are unmarried.
They enjoy freedom.... Christian women are at a premium. _Widows_
are eagerly sought as Bible-women....
‘Of course, I would never wish X. to marry one she does not
care for. I have told her father that the matter is at an end.
But _he_ looks grave enough, and sees the peril to our Infant
Church as clearly as we do. If our nice maidens scorn to marry,
where are our fine, well-educated men to find Christian wives?
How are girls--except in very rare cases--to work in zenanas
without the care of a husband? It would be thought improper,
hardly safe.
‘“The consequences are” that I have written a little book
in honour of the holy estate of Matrimony; which--the new
book--has had Ellie’s approval, and I am sending it to Herbert
for his. What we want in India are good wives and mothers. No
science or literature can make up for the lack of such.’
It was in the summer of this year that Miss Tucker mentioned in
one letter a curious little scene at the railway station. She had
gone there to meet a friend, who failed to arrive. Two young Native
Christians happening to be present, and also a young English officer
of her acquaintance, she brought them together with a kind of half
introduction. When she had left the station, the officer began talking to
the two, asking lightly why they had left their own religion for another.
‘It’s all the same,’ he said. ‘Muhammadans, Hindus, Christians, all
know that there is One God.’ This far from brilliant remark received an
answer which it well deserved. ‘If so,’ one of the Indians replied, ‘what
difference is there between you, us, and the Devil?’ The train moved on,
carrying the speaker away; and no more could be said. But more might have
weakened the force of the retort.
A few slight memoranda, contributed by two Native Christians, come next.
The first are sent by Dr. I. U. Nasir, formerly one of the boys in the
Baring High School, already quoted in an earlier chapter. He speaks
of himself as an adopted ‘son’ of Miss Tucker’s, not, like others a
‘nephew.’ The second set of extracts, which I give last, not because
they are of inferior interest, but because I wish to accentuate one
suggestion, by letting it end the chapter, are from the Rev. Mian Sadiq,
at one time Indian clergyman in Amritsar, and later the same in Batala.
I.
‘Of all the India’s sons, especially those with whom she had
to deal at Batala, it was my privilege to be called her “son.”
She was an “Aunt” to a good many Missionaries, but only did she
allow me to call her “Mother”; and she did love me as a true
mother....
‘The one thing most noticeable about her was that she was so
self-denying and humble, considerate for others’ feelings, and
tender-hearted. She would tend the sick with such motherly
care; and if the disease was a dangerous one, or infectious,
she would insist on sitting by the bedside, and not allow
others to run the risk of contracting the disease. On one
occasion a poor, dirty convert was suffering from fever, and
had no clothes. Miss Tucker gave him her bedding for the night,
and spent the winter night herself sitting before a fire. Above
all she hated “I’s.” I remember only one occasion when she
desired us to do something for her. She had regular morning
and evening walks in the fields; but getting a little tired
sometimes of waiting till the Church bell sounded, she wished
a small terrace to be raised, just sufficient to seat her. A
small rude platform was raised for her by the side of a babūl
tree. She may have selected that particular spot, because it
gave a very picturesque view of the “stately palace,” with the
“tank with lilies blowing” in the foreground,--now turned into
an artificial canal.
‘Her reticence regarding her own life and work was extreme.
This much I remember from her occasional talks, incidentally
dropped from her: that she was eight years old when she read
Shakespeare; she was eleven when she began to compose; and
at twenty-one she sent her first book to press.[117] She
wrote to me once how much she exulted over her first printed
composition....
‘At that advanced age how much she could accomplish in a single
day was a wonder to everybody. Her vast correspondence, reading
of books and papers, her literary compositions, her school
classes, Bible-meetings, various interviews, were so gracefully
and naturally managed. Still, all these were held in the
background, and jealously guarded against encroaching upon her
Missionary work....
‘She was reading the sermon (Spurgeon’s) on Christ’s first
miracle at Cana. She read there that our duty was to fill
the jars to the brim; and it was Christ’s work to turn them
into wine. This led to the self-examining question, “Am I
filling the jars to the brim? Can I not work a little more
for Christ than I have hitherto done?” This gave her strength
in her feebleness; and from that day she spent an hour more
in the zenanas than she used to do. Considering the various
discouragements she met in her Missionary work, it was no small
matter to take this step,--and this too at a time when it was
an effort to walk, not to speak of ascending perpendicular
flights of stairs in the zenanas....
‘The one thing which was not liked by some people about her was
that she had an extreme disgust of Natives taking to English
dress, which she invariably designated “ugly.” She regretted on
several occasions that her age and habits did not allow of her
adopting the “graceful _dopatta_” (head cover) in preference to
her hat....
‘Her ideas about the burial system were very definite. She
would take up the thread of St. Paul’s argument, and compare
the human body to a seed of grain, which should be simply
buried under the earth, and not shut up in a box and placed in
the ground. She several times expressed her desire to be simply
wrapped up in a clean sheet and carried by her boys to the
cemetery when her turn came, and then laid in the grave as one
naturally sleeping.’
II.
‘During Mr. Baring’s absence in England in 1881, one cold night
Miss Tucker noticed in the Chapel a man shivering with cold.
He was one of the non-Christian servants of the school. After
Service she called him, and asked him if he had more clothes.
The man said “No.” He was shivering, as he had fever. She told
him to wait, and ran upstairs. She came back in a minute with a
beautiful rug. She told the man she could not give it to him,
as it was a present from her sister, but she would lend it to
him for the night, and would buy a country blanket for him the
next day. I asked her what she was going to do herself. She
said she would keep a fire in her bedroom, and that would keep
her warm.
‘I saw her many times picking up pieces of broken glass or
bottles. She said poor people who walk barefoot get hurt by
these. She has known cases in which men suffered for weeks from
wounds received from these.
‘She was not kind to men only, but to animals. One summer
morning, as she was coming from the city, after doing her
work in the Zenanas, she saw a poor donkey with a sore back,
troubled by a crow. She came home, took a piece of cloth, went
to the place where she saw the donkey, tied the cloth, and came
back and took her breakfast....
‘Her example has done a great deal in removing caste feelings
among Christians. Batala was a place for feasts. In these
feasts all Christians were invited. She generally sat with
low-caste Converts, and ate with them....
‘Once for sending a girl to an orphanage she sent for a
prospectus of the school. In it two warm dresses were put down
in the list of clothes. ‘It is very unreasonable,’ she said,
‘to require two warm dresses.’ She had herself only one, and
that she had been using for the last nine years. Her poem,
“What a Missionary Miss Sahiba should be,” is an embodiment of
what she was.’
One more short sentence from the same source is worthy of particular
attention: ‘When ill, Miss Tucker did not like to inform her friends of
it, lest her friends should leave their work and come to nurse her. She
often expressed a wish that there were MISSION NURSES, who could attend
to the sick Missionaries. Without these, when one got ill, others were
taken from their work to nurse her.’
In an earlier chapter it was suggested that some ladies, wishing to
find a vocation, might offer themselves as Honorary helpers to the more
regular Missionaries in certain lines, among which Nursing was included.
Here it seems that the same thought had distinctly occurred to the mind
of Charlotte Tucker. Why should not a little Band of Honorary Nurses for
India be organised,--Nurses, trained and capable, holding themselves
ready to go wherever their services may be required by any sick
Missionary, so that the steady work of other Missionaries should not be
unnecessarily interrupted by the illness of one of their number? The idea
is at least worth consideration, since apparently it would have met with
the approval of A. L. O. E.