A Lady of England 51

A Lady of England 51

CHAPTER V

 

A.D. 1877

 

DISAPPOINTMENTS AND DELAYS

 

 

The year 1877 dawned full of work and full of hope, in Batala. Fresh

openings were appearing on all sides; and to the four Zenanas which

at first could alone be entered, others had been already added. Then

suddenly came a check. Miss Tucker’s hard-working companion, who had

all through suffered much from the Panjab climate, broke down, and was

ordered off to England. For Miss Tucker to remain alone at Batala,

without a single European companion, could not be thought of; and so many

Missionaries had been invalided during the past unhealthy year, that no

one else could possibly be spared. She had perforce to return to Amritsar.

 

The great disappointment--and very great it was--she took patiently, even

cheerily. Some considered a few months more at Amritsar no bad thing for

her or for her future work. She had freedom from responsibility, and more

leisure in consequence for study and for writing. Many a short story went

forth from her busy pen that winter for India’s millions. But her eyes

were still bent longingly upon Batala; and her whole desire and prayer

were that she might soon return there again.

 

Nor had she to wait long before the granting of her wish. Mr. and Mrs.

Beutel, then resident at Amritsar, were appointed C.M.S. Missionaries at

Batala; and when they went she could go also. Mr. Beutel describes as

follows the course of events:--

 

‘One day--it was early in 1877--after returning from a

preaching-place in the city (Amritsar), I met Miss Tucker on

my way home. She was glad to see me, and then told me of her

intention of going to settle at Batala, provided that my wife

and I were willing and prepared to go with her. After a while

this was sanctioned, and consequently we left Amritsar for

Batala in April, and settled in the old house ... which is still

used for the Christian Boarding School. It then looked like a

haunted house, inhabited by owls,--which regularly had a dance

in the loft almost every night!--bats and wasps, etc. Miss

Tucker occupied the one wing of the upper story, and we the

other. The centre-hall served as a dining-room. She was our

daily boarder.

 

‘As a rule she rose very early in the morning. After her

morning walk, service, and breakfast, she regularly went out

into the city, to see and teach some women in their houses,

occasionally accompanied by my wife. Now and then she also paid

visits, like myself, to the villages in the neighbourhood. As a

rule the afternoons were filled up by her with the study of the

language, reading and writing, etc.

 

‘But, alas! not quite two months had passed, when both Miss

Tucker and my wife were laid up with fever. The chief cause

of this, as the Doctor afterwards explained, seemed to be the

stagnant water almost all around the house; and he ordered them

both away as quickly as possible. Consequently we all returned

to Amritsar by the end of May 1877, and settled again in our

old quarters.

 

‘As soon as the hot season was over, we all went back to

Batala, a second time. The condition of the house was as bad

as before; but Miss Tucker immediately offered her help, and I

set about fifty people to work. The ground near the house was

soon raised about two feet or more; and consequently the place

became more healthy, so that this time we could stay there all

the winter, doing our work as before.’

 

After a few months, however, came a renewed check. Mr. Beutel was

required for work in Amritsar; and when he and his wife left Batala, Miss

Tucker had to leave also. Once more she was obliged to settle down for a

term of patient waiting and study at Amritsar.

 

Not till the spring of 1878 was any really permanent arrangement made.

Then a school of Panjabi boys was removed from Amritsar to the old

palace, under the presidency of the Rev. Francis Baring; and Miss Tucker

went to live under the same roof, to carry on the work among women of

Batala. Thenceforward her home was at Batala to the end. Throughout the

year 1877 she had much of doubt and disappointment to endure; but her

brave trustfulness never broke down under the strain. Charlotte Tucker

was a thoroughly loyal soldier of the Cross,--willing to go, or willing

to stay, as her Master might dictate. Her heart’s desire was to live and

toil in Batala; but a yet deeper desire of her whole being was to carry

out His Will, whatever that Will might be. The Centurion’s words, ‘I am

a man under authority,’ may be cited as peculiarly applicable to her. If

God’s Will for her were Amritsar, not Batala, she would be content.

 

For a short time, seemingly, things were so; but not for long. Fresh

plans in 1878 would make all clear. Meanwhile some months of change and

uncertainty did no harm. They were but part of the polishing of the

golden staff of her Will,--to revert to her own allegory of earlier days.

 

The history of these months, beginning with the time when she was first

at Batala with Miss Swainson, will best be told by occasional extracts

from the abundance of letters remaining.

 

TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.

 

‘BATALA, _Jan. 4, 1877_.

 

‘Here we are in a regular “fix,” as the boys would say,--no

bread nor butter in the house, and with the probability of a

grand lady, a Commissioner’s wife, coming to-day, perhaps to

stop the night. Pity the sorrows of--of ladies twenty miles

from civilised life. I’m not housekeeper, so I can laugh; but

poor dear Florrie!! You can feel for her. This is how we got

into the fix.

 

‘We settled on to-day, Thursday, for a general giving of prizes

in the six City schools. Several pounds have been spent on

prizes, and Florrie and I were for hours yesterday ticketing

and preparing them. The prize-giving is of real importance; for

we give prizes _instead_ of money, as the Government gives.

To throw _éclat_ on the affair, we asked Mrs. T. to give the

prizes away, which she kindly consented to do. A note was sent

to her on Tuesday morning by a kahar,[59] to tell her the day,

and the kahar was to bring back bread and butter, which we have

always to get from Amritsar, twenty-four miles off.

 

‘Thursday morning, the grand morning, has arrived,--nay, it

is nearly eleven o’clock, and the children of six schools,

their teachers and their mothers, and perhaps scores of women

besides, will be on the tiptoe of expectation,--and our _kahar

has never returned_!!! We don’t know whether Mrs. T. is

coming; we don’t know whether she is sticking half-way on the

road, waiting for the horse which we offered to send twelve

miles, _if_ she required it! Like the famous little pig, we

have eaten all the bread and butter; and if the grand lady

arrives--without that faithless kahar--what shall we give her

to eat? I urged Florrie at least to send to the city for meat;

but she fears that in the absence of the cook the guest may

arrive.

 

‘O dear! O dear! Why did we trust that _sust_[60] kahar,--or

eat up all the bread? O how shall the bari Bibi ever be fed? I

must go and try to cheer up poor Florrie, who suffers from her

head, in addition to being in this “fix.” I must tell you how

the matter ends afterwards.

 

‘Don’t fancy we’re starving! Oh, nothing like it! We had a

famous breakfast, chapatties,[61] eggs, etc. We don’t starve!

 

‘_Later._--No one has appeared. No tidings either of lady or

kahar; but Florrie has sent for meat. She told me that the poor

children had said that they would be ready at 7 A.M. If so,

they must be rather tired by this time, nearly 11½ A.M. ...

 

‘_Later._--The kahar came at last, and brought the provisions,

and a note from Mrs. T. to say that she is coming to-morrow.

 

‘_Jan. 6._--I was rather glad when yesterday’s grand affair was

over. As we had two dulis for three ladies, we had to manage by

Florrie always going first,--_i.e._ she proceeded to School 2,

while we lingered at No. 1--to School 3, while we stopped at 2,

etc. I had to try to amuse and show off the children to Mrs. T.

during the waiting time, which sometimes seemed rather long,

especially where the girls would _not_ sing. In vain I started

even a bhajan[62] in one of the schools.

 

TO MR. AND MRS. CHARLES TUCKER.

 

‘BATALA, _Jan. 6, 1877_.

 

‘How well I can fancy you in your home, with the wide blue

expanse of Ontario stretching in front. I suppose the world

looks very white with you just now; with us it is pretty green.

We have no garden, but our large house stands in the country,

without any enclosure. Herds of goats or strings of camels

could pass near to our mansion. There is certainly not much

noise of carriages. Here the sight of a dâk-gari is somewhat

rare; and in the city I have never seen any wheel vehicle,

except bullock-carts in the wider streets. We can sometimes

hardly get through the narrow streets in our duli; and I am not

aware that there are any other dulis in Batala except that of

the Catechist’s wife.

 

‘Very funny things we hear of ourselves; and I dare say many

funny things are said that we do not hear. In one place which

my companion visited, in company with E., the Catechist’s wife,

she overheard the remark that she---Miss Swainson--was the

husband, and E. her bibi. I think that I excite more curiosity

than my companion on account of my age. On account, I suppose,

of an Englishwoman with any silver hair being a rarity in

India, I seem to be sometimes considered wonderfully old.

Florrie told me that she had heard the women talking as they

might have done had I been a hundred years old.

 

‘One day I wore brown kid gloves. My hands were looked at with

surprise. I suppose that the women wondered why I should have

brown hands and a white face. I pulled off my gloves, and this

seemed a new cause for surprise. Natives are very curious.

One ... young man of good family acts as my Munshi. He told me

to-day that his aunt wished to know whether I have any salary.

How astonished we should be if French or drawing masters asked

such questions in England! I have been asked what salary my

nephew receives. My being unmarried makes me doubly an object

of curiosity to the Hindu women.

 

‘A poor woman came the other day to see us, and brought us

some common yellow flowers. I did not at all admire them,

but I thought it only courteous to accept so small a present

graciously. Miss Swainson did not like to accept the flowers--I

did not know why.... She told me afterwards that she was afraid

they were brought as religious offerings,--flowers are what are

used for such offerings,--and she had heard repeatedly that we

are ‘devi.’[63] What gross, fearful ignorance! I heard on good

authority that in one place in India, not the Panjab, offerings

are actually made to a dead European, who was a special

object of dread to the Natives, and whom they therefore wish

to propitiate as a kind of _demon_! Do not the poor, deluded

creatures want teachers? I find the women in general very

gentle and courteous, and quite willing to listen when they are

spoken to on the subject of religion. With the men--except of

course the servants--we have little to do.’