A Lady of England 83

A Lady of England 83

The previous day a feast was given in Mr. Baring’s honour, the boys

‘subscribing to buy the little dainties’; and ‘speeches of love and

gratitude’ being made. Then, in the early morning, long before dawn, Miss

Tucker felt her way down the dark staircase, to see the traveller off.

‘The babies,’ as she called some of the tinier brown boys, were there

also; one small orphan looking ‘sad and thoughtful’ over the farewell.

Bigger boys also came down, and they waited in the Chapel till the

Principal appeared. Shakings of hands were followed by cheers, as Mr.

Baring drove away in the dâk-gari,--‘probably with mingled feelings,’

writes Miss Tucker. One is disposed to wonder what _her_ feelings were,

as she turned back into the palace; alone among her companions; the only

European in that Eastern city! Yet no signs of heart-quailing can be seen

in the letter to her sister, written on the same day.

 

In this spring of 1880 came another event of importance,--the

‘Disruption’ of the older Zenana Society, under which Charlotte Tucker

had worked as an Honorary Member.

 

There is no necessity to enter fully here into the causes which led to

that disruption. To some of us it may seem to have been, sooner or later,

almost inevitable. Until that date the attempt had been made to work on

what are sometimes called ‘un-denominational lines,’--which meant that

the Missionaries might be either Churchwomen or Dissenters, each teaching

according to her own convictions. A difficult programme to carry out, one

is disposed to imagine! After a while friction arose in the Governing

Body at home. Since by far the larger majority of workers in the field

belonged to the Anglican Church, it was rightly considered that the

Governing Body ought to consist of an equally large majority of Church

people; and on this point the split took place. The Society broke into

two parts. The one part remained more or less Dissenting; the other part

became distinctly and exclusively Church of England. Each Missionary had

to make her own decision as to which she would join; and Charlotte Tucker

at least had no hesitation in the matter. On the 12th of May she wrote:--

 

‘Here I am at home again, after my strange little visit to

Amritsar; short, but by no means unimportant. All our five

ladies have crossed the Rubicon; they have sent in their

resignations, with the usual six months’ notice. It remains

to be seen whether the new “Church of England Zenana Society”

will or _can_ take them all on! We know not what the state of

their funds will be, as they begin on nothing. Our ladies, with

Mr. Weitbrecht the Secretary, seemed to have no hesitation as

to what course to pursue,--that of resignation.... I am very

desirous to know what dear Margaret Elmslie and Emily will do....

How the complicated machinery of the Mission will work during

the strange interregnum I know not.... One expects a sort of

little--not exactly chaos, but--struggling along in a fog, for

the next six months; and then we shall probably see our way

clearly.’

 

On the following day she sent in her own resignation. Little more appears

about the subject in later letters. As an Honorary Worker her own

position was not affected, nor was her income placed in jeopardy; and

soon the new ‘Church of England Zenana Society,’ being warmly taken up,

was in full working order. Amongst those who joined it were her friends,

Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton.

 

At this time she was becoming very anxious for the return of Mrs.

Elmslie, who had been detained in England far longer than was at first

intended, by family claims. Sometimes a fear was expressed that Mrs.

Elmslie might never return; and no one else could fill her place.

Charlotte Tucker did not dream of the happy consummation ahead. Two or

three references to her earlier days occur in June and July, as if some

cause had sent her thoughts backward.

 

‘_June 4, 1880._--I think, love, that one gets into a kind

of social fetters. When we were young we had the worry of

a footboy at our heels,--it was thought suitable for our

position. (Do you remember dear Fanny’s lovely definition of

that word?) When I was in Edinburgh, dear ---- was surprised,

and I think a little shocked, at “my father’s daughter” going

in omnibuses. As if it were any disgrace to my father’s

middle-aged daughter to do what her precious princely Sire had

done a hundred times! O Laura, when one throws aside these

trammels of social position, one feels like a horse taken out

of harness, and set free in a nice green meadow. Our honoured

Father! what true dignity was his,--but how he shook off the

trammels!

 

‘To be mean and miserly is quite another thing. That dishonours

our profession. One should be ready to entertain hospitably,

and to pay for work done handsomely; there is a free hand and a

generous spirit quite consistent with economy.’

 

* * * * *

 

‘_July 13._--Yes, love, we did intensely enjoy those concerts

in H. Square. I want you to enjoy more concerts. It is curious

how useful I have found my little music in the evening of my

days. I sometimes think of dear Mother’s words to me,--“Do not

give up your music.”’

 

In July, when Miss Tucker was congratulating herself that half the time

of Mr. Baring’s absence was over, a letter arrived speaking of lengthened

furlough. She was much distressed, fearing harm to the school, and for a

while was assailed by fears that perhaps he and also Mrs. Elmslie might

never return. Happily these fears were groundless; but plans were afloat

for some temporary arrangement while the Principal remained away. Miss

Wauton too was at this time taking her well-earned furlough in England,

and workers were sorely needed in the Panjab; while new untrained

Missionaries on first going out could do little. ‘We want Margaret,’ was

the burden of her cry; to which was now added, ‘We want Mr. Baring.’

 

For herself she had no thought of a furlough. Friends thought of it for

her; and she put the idea resolutely aside. Writing to Mrs. Hamilton on

September 6, she said: ‘And now for a more important subject, broached

in your sweet letter. I do not feel that it would be either wise as

regards myself, or right as regards my work, to go home next year. The

great fatigue of two journeys, the excitement of meeting loved ones,

and the wrench of parting again,--I doubt how my health could stand

it. As regards the work--I need not expatiate. It would look as if I

thought much of the little that I could do; but little is better than

nothing. It seems to me that one of the most useful things about me is

that--hitherto--I have stuck pretty close to my Station. If I were a

Native Christian, I think that I should be tempted to hate the very word

“going home,” and to regard Europe as a trap for my Missionaries. Let

them, if possible, have a _restful_ feeling in regard to at least one old

woman, whom they are ready to love.’

 

And a few days later to Miss Hamilton, on September 14:--

 

‘Your sweet Mother threw out a suggestion about my going home

next year; but it seems to me, love, that if I did so,--unless

circumstances change,--I should deserve to be shot as a

deserter. Even if I were to become blind or paralytic, I

believe that it would be well to stick to Batala. I am the only

apology for a European Missionary here; and, curiously enough,

my very _age_ is an advantage. What might be a great hindrance

elsewhere is rather a help here.’

 

In a letter of September 14 occurs a passage about apparent success or

non-success in work. She had perhaps comforted herself from time to time

with such thoughts as follow.

 

Speaking about a certain American religious book, which had been lent to

her by one who greatly admired it, and about Mr. Bateman’s opinion of

the same volume, she observes: ‘What Rowland most objected to was the

American affirming that if you take certain means to effect conversions,

the result is as sure as harvest following breaking up the ground. As

Rowland says, we cannot even break up the ground without God.... Are we to

conclude that ---- and ---- are truer workers than dear ---- spending his

strength in breaking stones at K., while the sheaves almost drop into the

reapers’ arms at D.? Did our Blessed Lord Himself, Who was always sowing

golden seed, reap a very large harvest during His Ministry? St. Peter’s

first sermon drew in a far greater number than all the disciples of the

Blessed Lord before His Resurrection put together.’

 

It was evident that, although she must have felt her lonely position,

she was gradually becoming used to it; even so far as not at all to

wish for a strange young lady as a companion. Mrs. Hamilton had made

strong representations to the Society at home of the need of a helper at

Batala; and the letters given next seem to have been written partly in

consequence of this.

 

As early as the spring of 1880 Miss Tucker could say: ‘I used to think

it rather tiresome when business took both my English companions for a

few days away; now I am quite serene if I do not see a white face for

months.’ And in November of the same year: ‘As to earthly blessings, they

abound; the Natives are my real friends. The Lord gives abundant grace,

and cheers me with His Presence; and I have such joy in the companionship

of my Bible, that I do not miss the society I should otherwise value. Do

not send a helper to me, when many other parts of India need it so much

more.’

 

Again, on September 27:--

 

‘It is very loving in you to be so anxious for me to have a

lady-companion. But, unless a Missionary’s wife, one might far

from add either to my comfort or usefulness. To put aside the

possibility of her being eloquent,--a late sitter-up,--of a

melancholy or nervous temperament, or often ailing,--I really

have no spare space for a lady companion. She must share my

bath-room, if not my bedroom; and in India this would be very

uncomfortable.

 

‘But why, you may say, should there be more room for a married

pair than for one maiden lady? The answer is simple enough. If

a _gentleman_ were here, the large family of the Singhas would

give up their rooms and move to the Banyans. We _must_ have a

gentleman Superintendent.’

 

Later in the same letter comes a reference to one of the Heroes of her

enthusiastic girlhood. Lady Outram and her gallant husband had been

intimate friends of the Tucker family; and many a loving message in these

later years was sent home by Charlotte Tucker to the former.

 

‘I have been reading much of the noble Outram’s Memoir to-day.

As far as I have gone, I think that the Biographer has done

his work well. The Outram of the book is just the Outram who

was the admiration of our girlhood,--generous, chivalrous,

noble! One feels how much pain that fine spirit would have been

saved, had he realised how little it really matters whether

good service be appreciated or not by man, if the great Leader

accept it,--if all be done as to Him Who never overlooks or

misunderstands! To our own Master we stand or fall; let earthly

superiors say what they will.’

 

* * * * *

 

‘_Oct. 16._--Dear, excellent ---- thinks that my not having a

“Revival” in Batala is because I do not study his favourite

author. You can hardly have a _Revival_ unless there has

been some life before.... Our work is more like clearing in

backwoods,--there are huge trees and boulders cumbering the

ground; not just weeds overspreading a garden that once was

a little cultivated. Then here women cannot read, and do not

choose to learn.... I like Miss Havergal’s _Kept for the Master’s

Use_ so much. It is beautiful. But I do not feel with her that

it is possible on Earth to have our _will_ exactly _one_ with

God’s. Even the Blessed Saviour made a distinction between “My

Will” and “Thy Will.” Dear C. T. T., for instance, submitted

sweetly to her heavy trials; but it could not be her _will_, it

was her _cross_, to lose all her nearest and dearest, and see

her father ill for so many years.’