LAST YEAR'S WORK IN KASHMIR.
Dr. and Mrs. Elmslie left Edinburgh for India on the 5th March. In
London they met loving friends and relatives, with whom they had sweet
communion. They went aboard the _Massilia_ on the 7th, and that morning
Mrs. Elmslie, on turning to her book of daily texts, got a verse to
which subsequent events gave a touching significance, and which was not
without impressiveness even at the time,–"_Thy_ MAKER _is thine
husband_."
The passage, on the whole, was good. Writing to his mother-in-law, Dr.
Elmslie says:–
"_Bombay, 6th April._–Have at last got to the end of our voyage. On
looking back, have much cause to be very thankful to God for the mercies
that have attended it. God permitted us both to do something for
Himself. We found Dr. Bonar's kind and valuable gift of books of great
service. Both M. and I found our powers of playing chess of use in
helping us to get to know some of our fellow-passengers. Since I began
this sentence, I have been to the city with a missionary friend, and
have seen to-day what I never had seen before. If you were to try to
guess, I don't believe you would succeed in telling me what I have seen.
It was nothing more or less than an hospital–not for human beings, but
for the lower animals! The invalids were a porcupine, deer, monkeys,
goats, sheep, dogs, horses, cows, and oxen. I saw some of the sick kine
taking their medicine. It is supported by a wealthy native merchant."
They got a cordial welcome back to India. "You will not fail," writes
the Rev. E. Stuart, "to convey this, my hand-o'-write, welcome to your
dear wife,–a real hearty Scotch grip of friendship. I rejoice to hear of
your so wisely _doubling_ your usefulness." "We had the pleasure," says
Mr. Clark, "of welcoming Dr. Elmslie and his bride from England. His
step was even then (April) less elastic than usual, but his warm
affections were the same."
The following items of intelligence are culled from various letters from
Dr. and Mrs. Elmslie, addressed to relatives and others during their
Indian campaign. Here is a glimpse of our friends, _en route_:–
"Marching orders were–up at half-past four, breakfast at a quarter past
five, off at twenty minutes from six; servants on before to have regular
breakfast ready half way. I reach first, being carried in a dandy,
spread the carpet and table-cloth in a pleasant place, sometimes under
pomegranate and rose trees, sometimes by a waterfall. Then come the
weary walkers, and don't we make a hearty breakfast. The rest of the way
is the fatiguing part, as the sun is up, and the climbing and rough
walking are trying. We reach the next stage about half-past eleven, have
tea as soon as water can be got, then rest, write, or read till dinner
at five; after which the doctor gathers the servants together, and the
sick who have come for advice. It makes a picturesque group–about forty
natives, all seated on the grass, the old catechist arranging things,
the native medical assistant and his wife, with the large khitta, full
of medicines, and Mr. Wade in white costume, leaning forward in his
arm-chair, reading and speaking with the people, who always answer him,
sometimes with arguments, which he shows great tact in meeting, while
the doctor prescribes. He has met with some interesting cases; one poor
sufferer is to follow us to Srinagar, as he requires a serious
operation. It was touching to see his old father weeping over him. One
woman, with fever, was brought on the back of her husband. The twilight
is short; and, after the sick people leave, we have a little chat, then
prayers, and off to bed.
"I confess I was rather horrified with the first specimen of a Cashmere
bungalow–nothing better than a large mud hut, unfurnished, and hardly
plastered, and the floors so dirty that you felt ashamed of your boots
after once crossing a floor. The people are much finer looking, and have
more open countenances, than the Hindoos; but it is marvellous to me
that such nice-looking men and women can wear such garments. They do not
seem to know the use of soap and water–their blankets, which they wrap
round them, are perfectly brown, and in many cases you cannot count
their rags.
"When we reached the spot from which we had the Pisgah view of
Kashmir–the _vale_ itself–I could but exclaim, 'Truly the half has not
been told me.' It seemed to me a perfect paradise, which should know
nothing but peace and plenty, purity and joy.
"After many difficulties we have at length got a house, which, though
only a native one, is really very suitable, being quite among the
people. We have, therefore, gladly and very thankfully left off tent
life for the present. The house is entered from the river by a flight of
steps, which brings you into a wide archway. Our garden is large, and
full of the delicious ottar roses. They are pink, not very large, but
very rich in perfume. I fancy they must refresh the patients very much,
so I don't grudge their gathering some as they wander about during the
waiting time. The doctor has real, earnest, hard work now. For the last
fortnight the attendance has been daily increasing. To-day there were
nearly 170 patients. It is quite too much, for many of the poor things
require serious operations. The weather is very hot now, too hot to go
out, except in early morning or evening. The poplar avenue is our
favourite resort; it is quite near us, and very shady and quiet; for,
strange to say, the river is more popular, and the visitors may be seen
sailing up and down in their gondolas, just as they would drive in the
London parks.
"We rise at six, and, after reading and prayer together, the doctor goes
to work, prays with his assistant, arranges the waiting crowds of
people, and leaves the catechist to address them, which he does very
earnestly in Kashmiri for about a quarter of an hour. Then the doctor
examines patients till breakfast at ten, after which he goes down again
to his people. He has had to separate the men and women now, taking one
set to-day, and the other to-morrow, and giving them medicines for two
days, as they increased to an unmanageable number; but, even with that,
he has nearly 90 women on an average, and double that number of men. The
operations are trying, for he has the whole to do himself, and he is
often quite exhausted when he comes upstairs again about one."
"Our work here, I am thankful and glad to say," writes Dr. Elmslie, "is
now in full play. Yesterday 165 patients were present. Many of the cases
were grave surgical ones, for the people have been waiting for me for
two years. They are being plied, too, with the glorious Gospel of
Christ. I have a dear native Christian with me as an assistant, who is
deeply interested in his poor benighted countrymen, for he is a
Kashmiri. Then my friend, the Rev. T. R. Wade, has been sent to the
valley this year, to strengthen my hands. He, too, labours amongst the
waiting patients all morning. So, as I said, we are earnestly,
prayerfully, and hopefully at work. I am thankful to say that the native
authorities seem less hostile than formerly. Not that they are friendly,
and smile upon our work,–that we do not expect from heathens,–but, so
far as I have been able to ascertain, they do not throw obstacles in the
way of the sick coming to us. That is a great thing, and we are heartily
thankful for it. God, too, has blessed us in our premises. Not that they
are palatial, but they are conveniently situated near the city, so that
no one is incommoded by our work. Dwelling-house, dispensary, operating
theatre, servants' rooms, are all under one roof. The crowds of the sick
meet outside in a garden, which we have, fortunately, to the back. In
this fine weather there is matting below them, and above them a canvas
covering." Mrs. Elmslie, writing at the close of the month's labours,
says, "He has just had to-day his 1100th patient, and finished his 70th
operation in a month."
"The weather having broken, rain fell in torrents, such as only mountain
countries know. The river gradually rose higher and higher, till the
bank disappeared; and, on the opposite side, fields were covered. When
we went to church yesterday, the doctor was very much afraid our house
would be surrounded in a few hours. The Baboo sent boats round to all
the Europeans. You may believe we were not very happy at the thought of
having to live on the waters, Noah-like, till the waters diminished, and
this we quite expected to have to do to-day. The servants had to flit to
the verandah, the kitchen, a hundred yards behind us, being surrounded.
To our great joy and thankfulness (this morning), we found the sky
clear, the sun shining, and the waters abating; thus our fears have been
disappointed.
"_August 12th._–We had given up thinking of floods, and only yesterday
the doctor said to me how very thankful he felt for this blessing;
however, here we are to-day, not very unlike Noah. This flood is caused
by the melting of snow in the mountains, where there was a fresh fall
last week; and it must have burst the embankment lower down, for the
whole of the large orchard, where our house and all the European's
houses are, is flooded. The kitchen is several inches deep in water, so
that Fakira, his pots and pans, have had to take refuge in Mr. Wade's
verandah. How he means to convey dinner across the intervening waters I
know not, but he always manages well for himself,–specially when he
knows he has made a mistake. I suppose he prefers risking the dinner,
and being at a little distance from Nana Sahib's eyes and ears,
otherwise our own verandahs would have been more suitable. Three boats
are in readiness to carry us off somewhere, but, as yet, I don't know
where. I have packed my boxes, and now am waiting till the doctor
returns from the dispensary. There is a great deal of sickness in the
city. The doctor is keeping decidedly better, but he is still far from
strong. The house is now quite surrounded; all looks calm and bright;
but the great river comes rolling on. I am a little concerned as to the
fate of our dinner, as there is now quite a lake between us and our
factotum. The boatmen and women keep wading about as if enjoying it
immensely. The doctor has just come back, and is greatly dismayed at the
state of things. He sailed through the orchard right up to the back
door. We are thinking of going to the gardens, as the Baboo has got
written permission for us from the Rajah to occupy one of the palaces.
Dinner has come off very well, considering that it had to travel through
the waters.
"_August 16th._–Notwithstanding the unceremonious way in which we were
turned out of our house, we are enjoying our place of refuge
exceedingly; and no wonder, when you think it was made according to
Kashmiri ideas of Paradise. Some traditions of Bible history, lingering
among them still, having suggested it to a king who lived, I believe,
about the time of our second Charles. There are two pleasure houses or
pavilions on the gardens, one close to the lake, the other high up on a
terrace of the mountain, and almost hidden in the rich foliage of the
chinar trees. We chose the latter, as we have learned to seek shade in
this sunny land. The way to it lies through orchards of pears, quinces,
peaches, &c., on one hand, and beautiful mown lawns on the other, in the
middle of which is an artificial bed of a stream. The trees by the side
of it are the grandest I ever saw. Some of their trunks have been
hollowed out, and inside three people can stand quite easily. After
mounting by terraces, you reach the pavilion, where we are to be found,
looking very small in our crimson covered chairs, in comparison to the
lofty place in which we are. It is an open hall, 60 feet in breadth, by
40 in length, and the brilliantly covered roof is supported by sixteen
pillars. On either side are large rooms; one wing occupied by Mr. Wade,
the other by us, while the pavilion itself is our dining and sitting
room. I am afraid you can hardly appreciate, in a Scotch autumn, the
luxury which we are enjoying so much. The same stream of water which I
mentioned before runs through the middle of the hall. The mountain
stream is caught, and caused to rush down a fretted iron causeway into
the prepared bed (about 6 feet wide), and in it are innumerable
fountains. I count twenty-two between us and the zenana, which (I am
ashamed to say) we use as a kitchen. It flows through our hall, casting
spray all around, sparkling in the sunshine, and then gushes down
another causeway, about 60 feet, into an immense pond, in which there
are also many fountains, and so on, feeding many of these jets, till it
has descended all the terraces, and mingled its waters with those of the
beautiful lake. This stream had been turned off by the villagers to
water their rice fields; but on our arrival the gardener brought it
back, and caused all the fountains to play. The sound of its sweet
murmur is very charming, and the sight of the jets, each in some
different form, is delightful. The trees have grown too luxuriantly, and
hide the lovely vistas of snowy mountains and of the lake, but we see
enough to be full of admiration. We went up the mountain side this
evening, and sat down under the shade of a vine-tree, laden with grapes,
and watched the glorious setting sun.
"_August 19th._–Here we are in our own little house once more. We came
in to church on Sabbath. We think it so good of him to persevere when he
(Mr. W.) has had so little encouragement. There were only six present.
It is very sad to find how little people attend to Christian duties
here.
"_September._–I have been finding out how very few real Christians there
are in India, and how very little even of outward regard for religion,
and this makes me feel very warmly to all who really are God's people.
We went to church yesterday, and hoped for an average congregation, as
sixty Europeans were said to be in Srinagar. Mr. Wade had prepared an
address on Medical Missions, and meant to ask for a collection on their
behalf, but none were there but ourselves. After the service was begun,
one gentleman made his appearance. We often long much for a Sunday at
home. However, Spurgeon preaches to us very well. Cholera has been
raging in Srinagar, but it is nearly gone now, and the visitors are
beginning to return from Gulmarg. We had a pic-nic to the Shalimar
Gardens last week, taking all the medical assistants and pupils, &c.
with us. They appeared to enjoy themselves very much. The climate here
is liker that at home now. Kashmir is becoming very dear to me now. I
should like to remain here as long as there is work for me to do. Plenty
of work there certainly is. It is an untilled field, but the Holy Spirit
will surely be granted to break up the fallow ground, and make the soil
ready to receive the seed. Indeed, we are very hopeful that something
has been effected, which time will reveal. Dear old Qadir the catechist
has been very much cheered by the number of inquirers this summer. If we
are allowed to remain here many will come forward, but the fear of
persecution _without us_ keeps many back."
"I suppose," writes the doctor to Mr. Duncan, "dearest M. will have told
you that our Committee in Calcutta have presented a petition to the
Governor-General, begging of him to grant us permission to remain in
Kashmir during the winter months. If this petition is granted, in all
probability the good work will more rapidly prosper. Will you pray that
all may be ordered of God for the best? As for myself, I have not been
at all strong this summer. The truth is that my work has been
overwhelming. Indeed, the people have been waiting for me for two years
to perform many operations. Medical mission work at home is very
different from medical mission work abroad. Here in India you have to be
a Begbie, Spence, and Walker all in one, while at home you merely nibble
at medical and surgical work. That makes a great difference."
Of later date. "I am now nearly myself again, thanks to God's blessing
on my dearest M.'s tender and judicious nursing. She has been the best
of nurses, just as if she had been under Miss Nightingale for years.
"An answer has come to a telegram which I sent to Simla, where the
Governor-General now is. The answer is to the effect that 'Dr. Elmslie
is not allowed to remain this winter in Srinagar.' Now, both M. and I
say truly, 'The will of the Lord be done,' but we mourn over this
oppressed and perishing country. It would have been for its good that we
had been allowed to remain, although it is doubtful if it would have
been for our comfort and happiness, for we should have been without
European society of any kind, and that would have made it very lonely
for us for two or three months. But we were heartily prepared to forego
the pleasures of society for the sake of this poor country and its
oppressed people. However, so far as we are concerned, the Lord has
willed it otherwise. We leave this matter in the Lord's hands. He will
work when His time comes. We shall probably be commanded to leave the
valley in a few days. This has been a season of very hard work, but the
Lord has graciously brought us in safety to its close. Since we began
work in the dispensary at Srinagar in the end of May last, over 3000
patients, suffering from all manner of diseases, have received medical
and surgical treatment gratuitously. Over 200 of these patients have
been operated on for surgical maladies, and besides all these cases 382
cholera patients were treated at their own homes by the agents of the
Kashmir Medical Mission.
"This merely gives the professional part of the season's work. I have
not been at all well since our arrival in Kashmir. This has been caused
by the severe nature of the work, and the close application to it
throughout the season, and I am almost sure I shall begin to recruit as
soon as we begin our tent life."