A Lady of England 60

A Lady of England 60

FROM AN INDIAN CHRISTIAN, CONVERT FROM MUHAMMADANISM, 1878

 

‘MY DEAR MISS TUCKER,--I received your kind letter, dated 13th

instant, and the newspaper yesterday. I am very thankful to

you. I read it many times, and it truly made me brave. I like

the piece of poetry you quoted very much. Every day I pray to

God to lead me in the right way. I think my prayer is heard,

for I do not feel so lonely as I did at first; but I get

fever nearly every day. I had gone over to Lahore on Friday,

and stayed there for Saturday and Sunday.... I remember you in

my prayers, and I hope you do the same. Now I will not feel

lonely. Please do not be anxious....’

 

C. M. T. TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘_Nov. 8._--If I were not a Mission Miss Sahiba, who should

never complain, I might give a groan or a grumble to the mice

and rats. They get into my almira, and what is even worse,

into my harmonium. I had a tin plate made for the pedal part,

expressly to keep creatures out; but they managed to pass it.

I have now had a second large one made, and hope that it may

prove more effectual. The creatures have bitten almost all

the red Persian away; to-day I found lumps of wadding in my

harmonium. “How could they have come there?” I asked of my

sharp kahar, V. I suspected the rats, but did not know where

they could have got the wadding from,--when V. suggested the

beautiful padded cover of my harmonium. Sure enough, the rogues

had bitten holes in that, and pulled out wadding to stuff

into my harmonium, doubtless to make a comfortable nest for a

family of young mice or rats. I tried a Batala trap; it was of

no use: I have bought an Amritsar one, and Mera Bhatija has

bought another; but the rats, I fear, will not be much thinned

in numbers. We try to get a weasel, but have not succeeded yet.

But things might have been much worse. The rats never try to

eat _us_!’

 

‘_Nov. 14._--I do not think that I told you of two Christian

fakirs, to whom I was introduced at Amritsar. They were very

badly clothed, fakir-like, but--especially one of them--had

pleasing, sensible faces. I suppose that they wander about, and

lead a kind of John the Baptist life. How curious such a style

of Christian would appear in old England!’

 

‘_Nov. 20._--I have been wanting--wanting--my English letters,

expecting them these four days. At last here they are, and such

nice dear ones....

 

‘I shall much like to hear what you think of my sweet Margaret.

I doubt whether she will be in good looks, she has been so

sorely tried by her dear Mother’s illness, and the struggle in

her own mind,--longing to come to our help, yet unable to do

so! I feel for her.

 

‘I think that dear Emily benefited little or not at all by her

trip to the Hills. She _ought_ to go home in the spring,--after

more than six years’ work,--so ought Miss Fuller; but neither

can leave till they fairly break down; for there is no one to

take their place....

 

‘You think, love, that by September 4th “the most dangerous

season was over.” Far from it! September is, I think, the most

dangerous month in all the year in the Panjab. Very hot, and

full of fever. My hardest pull up-hill since I came to India

was, I think, in September. You have had the heat then for so

long, you have less vigour, and the air is so unwholesome.

Sickness all around.

 

‘How good you are to send me another dress! My graceful Grey

still looks very well. I consider it rather a company dress,

and have my Green for the Zenanas, which are sometimes _so_

dirty! I am wearing it now, for the weather is becoming very

cold. It is rather amusing to see our Panjabis come in for

Morning Prayers, about sunrise on a sharp morning. There is P.

with a red comforter round _head_ and neck; J. is wrapped in

his white blanket. Poor Babu Singha, with a cold of course,

is wondering how the big room below is ever to be kept warm.

Mera Bhatija and I are going to change our drawing-room. The

northern room is far the best in summer; but in winter we

escape to the southern, and what was our guest-room becomes our

sitting-room. There is actually a fireplace in it!--and the

sunbeams stream in....

 

‘Instead of spending the long winter evenings in solitary

grandeur upstairs, I now come down and make one of the

cheerful party in the schoolroom. It is much less distracting

to be amongst a score of boys than you would suppose. I and

some of them have been trying the vitre-manie (?) for our

Chapel-window. Yesterday I brought down my chess-board and

challenged the boys, and fought P., R., and I. C., one after

the other....

 

‘On Sunday evening we sing hymns for ever so long together,

just like one huge family. The boys never seem to quarrel, or

say one spiteful word of each other. We have just had two new

boys; one is an Afghan; so we shall have the sons of Christian,

Muhammadan, Hindu, and Afghan, (by race,) parents all together.’

 

TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.

 

‘_Dec. 13, 1878._

 

‘This evening as Mera Bhatija has gone to Amritsar, I asked

three of our lads to tea.... After tea I taught the lads “Cross

Questions and Crooked Answers,” and showed them my splendid

bubbles and my chatelaine, which were greatly admired, and my

photograph-book, a great treasure to me. But what gave perhaps

more amusement than anything was the Beaconsfield handkerchief.

I was so glad to get some photos at last.... My visits in the

city were interesting. Dear B--n’s troubles have re-opened his

mother’s Zenana to me. She even paid me a visit here. I do not

see any inclination in her to become a Christian, however;

she says that I shall go to Heaven my way, and she hers. I

suggested the disagreeableness of 840,000 transmigrations;

but she did not seem troubled. Perhaps she hopes that she has

passed through a few hundreds of millions already.’

 

TO MRS. HAMILTON.

 

‘_Dec. 23, 1878._--“I shall go to rest to-night nestling under

my Laura’s love, and I shall rise very early to thank her,”

was my thought last night, as I got into my nice comfortable

bed, with her soft, light, warm quilt above me. And here I am

sitting by my blazing wood fire, long ere dawn, with that same

quilt like a shawl round my shoulders,--so comfy! Luxurious

Char! But, after all, I have not begun my thanks, and where am

I to end them?

 

‘Your wonderfully packed parcel reached me in perfect safety

yesterday. It was something like a nut, for it was rather

difficult to get at the kernel. So much careful stitching by

dear fingers. At last, however, the beautifully warm skirt and

quilt, and most exquisite cards, were fully displayed to view.

A thousand, thousand thanks! I have so _many_ things, such

goodly gifts, to remember my Laura by!...

 

‘Our Christmas festivities have already begun. Our house is

pretty full with Native friends. Perhaps the most interesting

is dear B., the once Muhammadan wife of a Christian Catechist,

and mother of Christian children, who was so sturdily bigoted

that she held out for thirteen years, before she would give

herself to the Saviour. But then she did so in her honest way.

B. was never a hypocrite; we respected her when she vexed us.

It was something for her to remain with her husband; for,

by Muhammadan law, baptism of husband or wife constitutes

divorce. Mera Bhatija told me of a curious case, which excited

much interest,--to Europeans it would excite much surprise.

A Muhammadan, who had, I suppose, read Christian books, was

travelling with some other Muhammadans, and was imprudent

enough to say that Muhammad wrought no miracles, and expressed

doubts as to his being really a prophet. The poor man happened

to have a rich wife, who, we may believe, did not care for

him. To _speak against_ the Prophet is enough to constitute a

divorce! The companions of the man did not let their chance

go of half ruining him. The case was brought into Court, and

an English judge was obliged to give a verdict against the

unfortunate fellow, who had expressed an honest opinion. He

lost his wife and her rich dowry....’

 

* * * * *

 

‘AMRITSAR, _Dec. 28, 1878_.--I am sitting with my sweet Laura’s

delicious quilt wrapped closely round my shoulders, for it

is warmer than a shawl; and I am up before the fire-lighting

period. Not being at home, I do not know how to light the fire

myself.

 

‘Our Christmas at Batala went off beautifully, and has, I

think, left a feeling of thankfulness on both Mera Bhatija’s

mind and my own. The following day we both came to Amritsar.

Yesterday was the grand opening of the Alexandra School. Mr.

Clark asked me to write an account of it for his report. I

did not like the task; it makes one feel so penny-a-linerish;

and one is afraid of writing to please this or that person,

etc.; but I could not well refuse, so I have been scribbling

something in pencil in the cold, which I mean to submit to dear

Emily’s criticism....

 

‘Oh, I must tell you what a boon your Beaconsfield handkerchief

is! It gave much amusement at Batala, both to Europeans and

Natives; it is giving much here at Amritsar. I am engaged to

dine with the Clarks this evening; so I dare say that the good

Bishop, Archdeacon, and all will have a laugh over my puzzle.

On Monday I am to go to Lahore, and sleep a night at Government

House. I mean to take my handkerchief with me....

 

‘Batala will present rather a contrast to bustling Amritsar and

Lahore. When I return, there will probably be no European but

myself there for days, as Mera Bhatija must be absent at the

Conference till the 6th.’

 

So ended the third year of Miss Tucker’s life in India. She had now

thoroughly settled down to her own especial work in Batala.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VIII

 

A.D. 1878-1879

 

EARLY CHRISTIAN DAYS IN THE 19TH CENTURY

 

 

It is clear that Charlotte Tucker was profoundly impressed with the sense

of living, as she said, in the First Century, instead of the Nineteenth.

In another letter, soon to be quoted, she describes her Batala experience

as ‘being carried back to the days of the Apostles.’

 

For in Batala the complex conditions of modern life, the intricacies

of Nineteenth Century Christianity, were absent. Here in England it is

more or less the correct thing to be in some measure religious, to be at

least nominally a Christian. People are on the whole expected to go to

Church,--or, if Dissenters, just as much to go to Chapel,--and though the

going to Church, as a matter of course, does not at all indicate the lack

of deeper reasons, of purer motives underlying, it does make the going a

very easy matter. So, also, a mother takes her little one to Church for

Baptism, again almost as a matter of course; often indeed with heartfelt

prayer and longing, but with no question of danger involved in the act.

It is a perfectly simple thing to do. More attention would in fact be

drawn by _not_ doing it than by doing it.