WHITE LEPERS--DR. MACLAREN--HEAT AND MISERY.
Since my first visit to the Asylum two other men had been admitted,
both Europeans. One man is English and was employed on the railway. He
managed with the weekly rupee I was able to give him, to obtain some
special kind of medicine which, he says, is doing him a deal of good.
He showed me some in a small tin box. It looked like tobacco leaves and
has a peculiar smell. He makes it into pills and takes several every
day. There are many hundreds of different quack medicines which are
advertised as “cures” for leprosy, but I have little faith in any of
them. This English leper is entirely destitute, and is at the moment
of writing sharing a common ward with natives. His sole furniture
consists of the bed on which he lies; not even a chair being provided
for him to sit on. He has no washstand, nor any other furniture. In the
next bed to him is a man of French extraction; a very bad case. Leprosy
has obtained such a hold of him that I doubt whether he will live very
long. He was formerly employed in the Calcutta water-works and several
letters had appeared in the daily papers written by different persons
who had seen him, commenting on the danger of allowing a leper to
occupy this position. He was discharged shortly after the appearance
of these letters, a pension being allowed him for the support of his
family. I heard that he had transmitted the disease to his wife.
Notwithstanding that two pure Europeans had been admitted into the
male ward, not the slightest thing has been done towards making them
comfortable. How differently Dr. MacLaren treats his European patients!
This admirable gentleman started in 1879 a leper asylum for natives
at Dehra Dun, in the north of India, where he was in practice. This
institution has been supported entirely by voluntary contributions, and
Dr. MacLaren has devoted as much of his time as possible to trying to
master this horrible disease with the aid of all that medical science
can accomplish. In this year’s report of the Dehra Dun Asylum, we
read, “During this year a European--the first--has been admitted to
the Asylum. As, however, he does not belong to this district, and was
admitted on his own urgent request, I may here make a short statement
regarding him. Mr. C. W. J., who is in his forty-sixth year, was at one
time in a good situation in a Government Office; but about nineteen
years ago a blotch appeared on his body which in the course of a few
years developed into disfiguring sores. He visited England on furlough
to get what benefit he could from home treatment. After staying and
receiving treatment for some time he had to return without having
received the benefit which he had so confidently hoped for. Shortly
after that, he was invalided out of the Service with only a gratuity;
but on appealing to Government he ultimately succeeded in having a
pension granted him. In July he first made application for admission;
but as there was nothing in the way of accommodation for a European in
the institution, I could not give him much encouragement. Ultimately,
the local Government and the Superintendent of the Dun, Mr. Nujent,
magnanimously provided funds wherewith suitable accommodation and
furniture was provided. A small cottage, consisting of a room, bedroom,
closet, and verandah in a corner of the garden, was altered, and given
up for his use, and Mr. J. came here in October.” My readers may learn
from this that Dr. MacLaren _did_ consider the requirements of a
European as being entirely separate and distinct from those of natives,
and arranged for suitable accommodation for the one under his charge,
previous to his reception. In Calcutta this is not done, and up to the
time of writing, Europeans are herding with natives in a ward entirely
devoid of furniture, except a bed each. This is not from necessity
or want of funds; for the District Charitable Society is one of the
richest in Calcutta. I may here explain to those of my readers who have
not lived abroad that, however poor and miserably afflicted a European
man or woman may be, the one possession to which they cling, and on
which they hang their last shred of personal pride when everything
else in the world has left them, is their nationality. Hence, they
bitterly resent in their hearts, even when they are too stricken down
to give vent to their feelings in words, any attempt to class them on a
common footing with natives. The same commendable spirit animated St.
Paul when he claimed that he was a Roman.
[Illustration: DR. G. G. MACLAREN.
_p. 57._]
At this time the weather in Calcutta was intensely hot. One Tuesday,
as I drove down to the Asylum, my pony, evidently overcome by the
heat, staggered and seemed unable to proceed. Seeing some cabmen
bathing their horses’ temples with wet rags at a watering place in
the road, I stopped my pony and got my native groom to do likewise
to him. It revived him and we reached safely at the Asylum without
further mishap. On taking up the _Statesman_ newspaper next day, I
read that five tramway horses had died of sunstroke about the very
time that my pony became affected by the heat. The lepers at the
Asylum were feeling it very much, and the smell of the disease was
quite overpowering. I forwarded a gallon of phenyle for use in the
Leper Asylum; but Mr. Lambert (the Commissioner of Police, who has
charge of this institution) wrote across my note: “return this to
Mrs. Hayes, with thanks,” and the phenyle came back to me. Although
some months had passed, during which time these officials were able to
see for themselves that I was trying to do my best for the good of the
lepers and working quietly; still they chose to maintain their hostile
attitude towards me and to do their utmost to wound and annoy me in
every way. Even Mr. McGuire must have felt that I was hardly treated;
for, as he returned my phenyle and put it in the carriage, he showed me
Mr. Lambert’s letter, and assured me that he was acting under orders.
Just then I heard a roar as of a number of wild animals fighting. I
proceeded to the native female ward from whence it came, and saw a
number of leper women all rushing at the bed on which I had placed
the coppers I had counted out for each of them, and trying to get
possession of the whole, tearing and going at each other like so many
tigers. Mrs. Smith was able to restore order after a while; but the
sight of these loathsome-looking diseased women enveloped in dirty rags
and bandages trying to hurt each other for a few coppers, was one that
I shall never forget. The heat was overpowering; things were all going
wrong; the phenyle that Daisy had repeatedly asked for was not allowed
to be given, and I returned home that day sick and wretched.