A Lady of England 59

A Lady of England 59

At Amritsar she found herself as usual in the midst of engrossing

interests. Fresh Baptisms were taking place; and about these she wrote to

Mrs. Hamilton on the 21st of August, describing one just past:--

 

‘There was a sweet-looking woman, D., a convert from Hinduism,

and her two dear little girls. Her husband, who is not brave

enough, or perhaps not sufficiently led towards Christianity,

to follow her example, saw her depart for church. “You know

that she is going to be baptized,” said Emily. “Yes, yes,”

was the reply. “You must be kind to her, and receive her

back.” The man made no objection,--even to his two children

being baptized; though he had formerly put obstacles in the

way. There was a fourth, a convert from Muhammadanism, T.,

whose baptism was the most interesting of all.... The clergyman

subjected the poor girl to the ordeal of a severe examination.

She had never probably spoken to an Englishman before; and it

would have been no wonder had she flinched or faltered. But

she, who has already been beaten at home for Christ’s sake,

showed no sign of weakness. Her answers came clear and firm.

“Is it because of Miss Wauton’s speaking that you come?” “No,

it is because of my heart’s speaking.”

 

‘The miseries and persecutions that may be coming upon her were

almost, I think, _too_ faithfully set before her. “If they were

even to kill me, as they did M.’s father, what fear?” said the

dauntless girl....

 

‘I remarked to ----, on my return from the baptism, that I

thought that the Indian women were braver than the men. He

quite agreed; he knows that _he_ dare not come forward like D.

and T. Our noble N. is, we believe, a Christian at heart, and

we know other men of whom we think that the same might be said,

but they linger and linger, and _dare_ not yet ask for baptism.

Here this year in Amritsar we have had five women, and last

year two, who, in the face of what we might have considered

almost insurmountable obstacles, have bravely confessed Christ

in baptism. It must be much harder for them than for the men,

but they seem to have more courage, or more faith.’

 

Several weeks later another reference in home-letters is found to

the brave girl, mentioned above: ‘By last accounts dear T. is holding

out nobly. We are not allowed to see her; but I hear that one or more

Maulvis[85] have been brought to try to argue the young maiden out of her

faith. But she tells them that they may read to her all day long, but

they never will change her. They say that Christianity is ‘written on her

heart,’--what a testimony from Muhammadans!--and that the ladies must

have bewitched her. It reminds me of Lady Jane Grey in prison; for dear

T. _is_ a prisoner.’

 

Plans did not fit in as Miss Tucker had intended. Once more she found

herself called upon to act escort to a sick Missionary, who had to go

to the Hills, and was not well enough to travel alone. Miss Wauton

could not just then be spared from Amritsar, and she appealed to the

‘Auntie,’ whose readiness to help in any emergency was by this time well

understood. ‘It seems as if by some fatality I must go each year to

Dalhousie,’ Charlotte Tucker said in one letter, adding, ‘But I hope to

return back in a few days.’ Then, in allusion to a scheme that she should

join her nephew at Murree in September, ‘I do not propose staying long.

After sixteen weeks of unbroken residence at Batala, behold me rushing up

and down hills like a comet.’

 

TO MISS L.V. TUCKER.

 

‘_Aug. 14, 1878._

 

‘We are to have a Confirmation here on the 3rd of November.

I should be much tempted to come up from Batala to witness

it, particularly if any Batala Christians are confirmed. I am

afraid that ----‘s wife will shrink from breaking pardah,--that

nonsensical pardah, which is a real snare to some baptized

bibis.... There is one dear baptized young bride in Batala, whom

I have not seen, but hope to search out on my return. The brave

girl dared to be baptized in Amritsar, but was then carried off

by her husband to Batala, and we know not in what part she is.

She is likely to be having a hard time of it, but it is quite

right in her to be with her husband....’

 

Writing home, she described drolly her absence from Batala as--‘this

strange episode of my life;--seven weeks acting Superintendent of the

Orphanage,--three of those weeks sole Missionary at Amritsar,--and--oh,

bathos! ten days an ayah--for I had none other.’ Still her health seemed

to keep good. She could stand the plains in hot weather as scarcely

another Missionary was able to do. While one and another broke down, and

had to be off to the Hills, Miss Tucker kept about, much the same as

usual, filling up as far as possible the gaps left by others.

 

She was full of ardent sympathy at this time for certain converts from

Muhammadanism, undergoing severe persecutions, and was much distressed at

the difficulty of doing anything for them. She even formed a daring plan

for carrying off one brave young girl from her relatives, and taking her

to a safe distance; and Miss Tucker was with difficulty dissuaded from

a scheme which others of longer experience knew too well might lead to

serious complications.

 

Another, a wife, and also her daughter, were at this time in frequent

peril, because they had become Christians in heart, and were earnestly

desiring Baptism. The husband, a Muhammadan, would sometimes sit between

the two, sharpening a knife, and threatening to stab them. Once he

violently seized the daughter by her throat. Life with them must have

been one long unhappiness; yet Miss Tucker, after an interview with the

poor wife, could describe her as looking ‘_worn_, but so bright and

brave.’

 

In September she was at Murree, helping to nurse her niece, and to take

care of the tiny baby,--which latter occupation, she wrote, was ‘more

formidable to an old maiden Aunt than conversing in Urdu with a learned

Maulvi, or doing the agreeable to a Rajah, would be.’

 

Of the place itself she said: ‘Murree is not a cheering place to a

Missionary.... One sees numbers of Natives; but how is one to tell the glad

tidings? I feel like a doctor with multitudes of sick around him,--and he

cannot get at his medicine-chest. I have brought Urdu religious books; I

find no good opportunity of giving even one away.’

 

October saw her once more in the spot where she loved to be, writing

joyously home--

 

‘Here I am, in my own Station again, and glad to be back. I

find that our little Christian flock has been increasing in

a very encouraging way during my absence. There was a nice

little round of visits to pay to Christian families.[86] Those

who had been last baptized I had never seen before to my

knowledge. A man of some forty or fifty years of age, employed

in the Government ----, who has been thinking on the subject of

religion for about nine years. For about two years he has been

going to some quiet place, when he had leisure, to weep and

pray. He appears now to be a very earnest and bold Christian.

At his own desire he was baptized in the middle of the city, in

a room set apart in the school.’

 

Very soon after Miss Tucker’s return came the death of a little Christian

Native baby; and the quiet Christian funeral was in marked contrast with

the wild wailings usual at Muhammadan funerals,--though some Muhammadan

lamentings were heard from one visitor present.

 

‘We decked the little sleeping form with flowers; a rose was

placed in each hand, a fragrant white Cross on the breast.... I

attended the funeral; so did a good band of Native Christians,

including our schoolboys. The cemetery was a Muhammadan one.

We must buy one for ourselves, as we are, thank God, a growing

body. I hope that in another month we may number fifty baptized

persons in Batala; and I have lately been writing out the

heading for a Subscription for a _Church_ at our dear Batala.

We have now only schoolrooms turned into Chapels. My list is to

lie on our table for visitors to see. Perhaps it will be one or

two years before we have collected enough; and by that time,

please God, the flock may have doubled or quadrupled.

 

‘It will be so--and more--if we go on at the rate at which the

Church has been growing. The bringing the Boys’ School here has

been a grand thing. The dear fellows, on the whole, set such a

nice example, and they seem so happy.

 

‘_Nov. 4, 1878._--I have come to Amritsar for a few days, for

the Confirmation, and had the pleasure of receiving your dear

letter of October 1st yesterday.... How can beloved St. George

send me such bad advice? I like his example better than his

counsel. What did _he_ do in time of trouble? Stick to his post

like a Tucker! Those of our Missionary family, with whom I have

spoken on the subject,[87] all agree with me that we should

never desert our flocks. What sort of army would that be, in

which all the officers ran away at sight of an enemy?... But take

no thought about me, dear one. Unless we meet with serious

reverses in Afghanistan, I do not see danger of a rising,

especially in the Panjab, where, on the whole, I think that we

are considered tolerable rulers.

 

‘And if there _were_ troubles, I suspect that we Missionaries

would run a better chance than other Europeans, we have such

numbers of friends amongst the heathen.... Just fancy--our

Bible-woman and her husband are actually collecting money from

Hindus and Muhammadans for our Church! A poor woman gave some

barley. If you were to hear all the polite little speeches, and

see all the smiles that pass between Missionary and Natives,

you would not expect us to be afraid. A Missionary in any case

should have nothing to do with fear,--it is dishonouring to the

Master.

 

‘My love, how can you think of sending me another dress for

winter? Do you think me so careless and extravagant as to

have worn out the graceful Grey already? I never take it into

a duli; I keep my faithful Green for such rough work. But if

a new winter dress is actually in hand, let me send you even

before seeing it a thousand thanks for it.’