A.D. 1879
THE CHURCH AT BATALA
The annals of 1879 are as usual very abundant, and space can only be found for a limited selection of extracts. Miss Tucker was much distressed about the Afghan war; not because of any possible peril or discomfort to herself, but because her judgment disapproved of it as a whole, and also because of the sufferings which she knew it must entail upon the soldiers.
While the larger number of extracts given are, throughout her Indian career, in reference to the work going on round about her, it must not be supposed that her love for relatives and old friends, or her interest in all that concerned them, ever for a moment waned. The letters teem with loving words and messages; and every item of news from England is received with delight. Her affections seem to have grown stronger rather than weaker, through long separation.
‘Batala, Jan. 16, 1879.—Mine own Laura, how could you write regarding the little meeting, at which you and sweet Margaret were, “Would you not like to be in my shoes at the time, and hold your darling friend in your arms?” I would much rather have been in Margaret’s shoes, and have held some one else in my arms,—only for the wrench that would have followed! But O love, we are travelling in the same train, only in different carriages; and I am thankful that though we cannot see each other, we can as it were talk to each other out of the windows. What a blessing the Post is!’
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TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘Jan. 20, 1879.
‘Ours is not to be a village church, dear, but one in a city of more than 25,000 inhabitants, where there are graceful mosques, a large idol-temple, etc. A mere mud shed would be quite out of character; our present room in a schoolhouse would be better than that. There is considerable difficulty and expense in buying a site. It ought to be in the city. I have written to dear —— about one which Mr. Baring has seen, but it is very doubtful whether the place can be purchased.
‘My nephew and I are both economical, and I think that you and dear Fred may depend on money not being wasted in useless decorations. But the sacred edifice ought to be of brick, and pretty strong, not only to endure for years, but also to keep out the heat. A tiny church would not cost much; one so small that beams could reach from side to side. But if our Church is to go on growing, as we hope and pray that it may, what would be the advantage of having a tiny chapel, which would not comfortably accommodate ourselves in a fiery climate, and in which there would be no room at all for heathen spectators? We should be wanting a second; and how could we procure a second clergyman? Please thank dear Fred very, very much for his kindness in collecting, and assure him that we wish to make the money go as far as possible.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Jan. 31.—I sometimes think that it is well for me that I have no one to carry cushions after me,—as the dear A——s made the boys do in George Square,—or to watch my face to see if I look pale. I have been enabled to make efforts, for which I might not have thought my frame capable, and have kept my health wonderfully.
‘This is the eighth day that I have not seen an English person! Mera Bhatija has been away on duty; but I hope to have him back to-morrow. I shall not be sorry to see him again; we are becoming more and more like real Aunt and Nephew. He wanted me to go to Amritsar during his needful absence; but there were strong reasons against that....
‘As regards health, we are between Scylla and Charybdis. People in India cannot help thinking a great deal about it, because five minutes’ carelessness may wreck health for life; yet it is a great matter for us, if possible, to keep from sinking to the languid “cannot-do-anything” point. To rest there is something like letting the head go under water. I often think of dear Uncle Tom’s expression,—“Never say die!”’
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TO MRS. E——
‘Feb. 4, 1879.
‘My nephew, the Rev. F. Baring, has organised little relief works; for, owing to drought, and partly to the war, there is much distress in Batala. If you were here, dear Aunt, it would interest you to walk about, leaning on my arm, and see poor men in their rags, women and children, carrying baskets of earth on their heads, to fill up that part of the tank which is nearest to the house. It is a good thing for us, but a better thing for the poor folk, who are thankful to earn their pice. Mr. Baring intends also to give poor women in the city employment in spinning, and to get a Christian native weaver to make the cotton into towels or napkins....
‘Both my nephews, Mr. Bateman and Mr. Baring, are very clever in finding ways to start the Converts in life, giving them means of earning an honest livelihood. One fine lad has a place in the Woods and Forests Department; another is learning work in the Press; a third is to be employed in a religious book-shop; a fourth convert is doing profitable business as a small wood-merchant. Another, who has a little money of his own, intends to set up a small shop in his own village. This is rather brave, as, only a month or two ago, he was driven forth by his own family with threats and curses. It seems to me that a very important part of a Missionary’s work is to watch over converts after Baptism, both as regards body and soul. In the Church, in the time of the Apostles, converts were not left to starve. They must not be idle, but they must have the means of earning their bread. We also greatly wish that every Native convert should feel it to be his or her work to bring in others to Christ....
‘We intend to have a Fancy Fair in April, for the Church which we hope to build; but the great puzzle will be to find buyers,—Mr. Baring and myself being the only white folk in Batala, and Natives generally disliking to spend money, except on marriages, funerals, jewels, and sweetmeats.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘March 3.—I have another dear letter, to-day received, to thank you for. You need take no thought, love, about where I sit. We have benches in chapel; and as for my duli—to sit on its flat floor does not hurt me in the least. I dare say that dear E. never got into the way of it; but I take to it as a duck to the water. The only difficulty is the scrambling out of the box; but this does me no harm; it is wholesome exercise. As for a carriage, it would be[321] useless in Batala. I was regularly blocked in to-day, even in my tiny duli. The streets are so narrow and so crowded....’
TO W. F. T. HAMILTON.
‘March 17.
‘Our saintly Bishop, Dr. French, is now our guest.... We are having such an interesting time, a heart-warming time! There is to be a Confirmation to-morrow; and oh, through what fiery trials some of the dear candidates have come! There is B—n, ... the first man who dared to be baptized in bigoted Batala. His Baptism cost him wife and child. There is the thin, worn B. D., with his hair turning grey; the only Christian in his village, he whom his own mother has reviled.... There is the aged Faqir and his stalwart sons,—but I need not enumerate all. I have told you enough to show what peculiar features of interest may attend a Confirmation in India,—especially perhaps in so thoroughly Oriental a place as this, where there are no Europeans at all but my nephew and myself.
‘Ours is such a dear little Church,—I am not aware that there is one really black sheep in it, though there are some infirm ones. Ten women are to receive Confirmation. I think that all but perhaps one have been converts from Muhammadanism or Hinduism. I do not mean to say that they are all Batala people; but Batala is a genial place to which converts seem drawn.
‘To-morrow, after Confirmation, we hope to spread, not the board but the floor, for a goodly number of welcome guests, more even than we had at Christmas. One feels very thankful to see such a nice large Christian family.... Of course some Stations are more trying to faith; some of God’s servants have to toil for years, and apparently catch nothing; but about here in various directions one hears of converts and inquirers. There is feeling of life stirring among the dry bones.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘April 1, 1879.
‘Do you ever enter Trinity Church?[93] Probably not, it is so far from you. To your sweet Mother and myself many memories are connected with it. Weddings and Christenings,—the overflowing pew,—the corner of it where we used to see the dear bald head of our venerated Father!...
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‘We have a dear young convert from a village, who, like others, finds in Batala a refuge. A simple guileless lad, who likes to come, as dear U. did, to sit at one’s feet, and have a talk about God’s Word.... He does not know much, but enough to have enabled the lad to resist temptation and endure persecution.... I wish that dear —— would take up the subject of portable Bibles in Persian Urdu. Even the children of clever Christian parents are apt to be sadly ignorant of Old Testament Scriptures. How much would English school-children know of them, if they could only buy Bibles in three (Persian Urdu) large volumes,—or in one (Arabic Urdu), very large and heavy?
‘It is not only the expense but the extreme inconvenience of such bulky books that must be considered. Mera Bhatija has English Urdu Bibles for his boys, but some read them with difficulty; and we cannot expect a nation to adopt a new type utterly different from its own. There is a beautifully written New Testament in Persian Urdu ... light, easily carried about, and costing only half a rupee. This is a great boon; but we want the Old Testament Scriptures.... They are at present almost shut out from the people. Our great want is a complete Bible, as delicately written out, and on as fine light paper, as the New Testament, and not very expensive. Most of the Natives are so very poor. I can scarcely imagine how they manage to live.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Batala, April 20, 1879.
‘Your dear, sweet letter received to-day was like a nice little visit to me in my comparative loneliness. Mera Bhatija and Babu Singha are both away at Amritsar.... If, when proposing to come out, I could have been told that I should be all alone in a house with thirteen Native boys,—my Ayah is absent from late illness,—I should have been startled, perhaps half-frightened. But these dear fellows do not worry me at all. I asked one of them yesterday: “If I were ill, which of you would nurse me?” “All of us,” was the reply. I thought that thirteen boys would be too much for a sick-room; so—“We would take it in turns,” was the second answer....
‘Many thanks, love, for the two copies of the nice work on Prophecies in the Old Testament. It ought to convince any candid mind.... It might be valuable to English-reading Muhammadans. But it is not at all necessary with them to avoid the Blessed Saviour’s Name. Yesterday, in a Zenana a bright-looking young woman[323] exclaimed, not particularly apropos to anything that I was saying: “Jesus Christ is the Son of God.” “Beshakh!” (Without doubt!) instantly rejoined an older Bibi.
‘Not that the offence of the Cross has ceased. The persecution which dear —— is enduring shows this. He has been beaten five or six times; and I think that we shall have to try to get his enemies bound over to keep the peace. Personally, I am courteously, sometimes affectionately, treated. The poor converts are those who have to endure hardness!’
‘April 27.—I know that some of my dear ones think that I must be very lonesome, with no white woman near me. But there are three things to prevent this:—1st, The Presence of the Master. 2nd, The feeling that separation of body is nothing compared to separation of soul. My ties to loved ones in England are not, thank God, broken! They do not depend on mere space. 3rd, Real loneliness, as regards even this world, is the want of love and sympathy. Some count my brown friends for nothing in this way. I do not do so. They draw out one’s affections, and respond to them. The heart does not shrivel up in India, even when one lives in such an out-of-the-way place as Batala.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘May 1, 1879.
I am sure that your dear Mother and you would peruse with interest Keshab Sen’s lecture, or rather the review of it in the Statesman which I sent home.... Keshab Sen was a brave man, not only as regards the Hindus, but the English officials, to say what he did. To aver that it is Christ’s Religion—not our superior strength, wisdom, intelligence—that holds India for us, is likely to give great offence in high quarters. To say what this Hindu did of despised Missionaries, a band of weak-minded amiable enthusiasts, if not something more contemptible,—as the world thinks them,—showed moral courage.... He has probably made a good many people, both white and brown, angry. His cry, “Jesus alone!—Jesus alone! India for Christ!” would find no echo in the large majority of hearts....
‘I suspect that there is an impression amongst some Europeans, as well as Natives, that Auntie is very old. I have three times heard the latter say that I am a hundred; and I notice that in the last Female Evangelist I am pronounced “advanced in years.” To my mind that means at least seventy!!! I was guessed to-day[324] as eighty in a Zenana. But I must be thought a pretty active old dame, to get up such steep stairs as I do.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘June 2, 1879.—Of course I cannot tell what God wills for me. I do not intend to do anything foolish. I do not even let my mind dwell much on the joy of going to a Heavenly Home, because it would seem selfish at present to wish to desert others. I realise more the value of life below than I used to do, and am thankful that at former periods God did not fulfil my wish to leave this Earth for a better. He is a poor soldier who is always pining for the end of the campaign!’
‘June 14.—I never felt so that the Word of God in my hand was rejected, as in a Zenana to-day. When I came out, V., my kahar, said, “You should not go to that house again. I was outside, but I heard words that grieved me.” But I had two nice Zenanas and a nice Native Christian home to balance. One of the nice Zenanas was N.’s. He spoke almost like a Christian, before his mother, grandmother, and handsome young bride. They all seemed quite friendly.’
‘June 20.—Darling Laura, your sweet letter has arrived since I wrote the first note. Would you fairly kill me with kindness? You have already done too much. No, my sweet sister, I would never like to take your money for needless luxuries,—of comforts I have many. Ice is not to be had, is not needed, and I hardly ever even think of it. We are much better without a carriage; walking is more wholesome, and to me more pleasant. I kissed the signature on the cheque—and then—destroyed it! Forgive me! In about two years I have had three cheques declined; so you see that I have enough and to spare. I am quite easy-handed, love; not at all in straits, thank God.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
(Probably July 1879.)
‘I am engaged in a matrimonial affair. B., Mera Bhatija’s Christian servant, having just been rejected by one woman, solicits, through my Ayah, my good offices to find him a wife. He bears a first-rate character, and would make an excellent husband, but he has the single disadvantage of having only one leg. I know that Mera Bhatija wishes B. to have a nice wife; so—after consultation with one who knows the Orphanage maidens well, and has an[325] excellent judgment,—I have fixed on a jolly, good-tempered girl, ... able to cook and scrub, and have written a note to the Lady Superintendent, requesting her permission for B. to pay court to C. C. is to be told of the lameness, etc., and then if she too be willing, B. will be allowed to have an interview with her. This interview decides the affair. Both parties have a negative voice; both must be pleased; and if so—the banns are published! This is the compromise between European and Oriental ways of arranging marriages. I think that Mera Bhatija takes a lively interest in the matter; and if the marriage comes off, we should both like to have the wedding at Batala. The people here ought to have the opportunity of seeing a Christian wedding.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘July 29, 1879.
‘I will give you another of my little Batala sketches. I am sitting reading. Enters M., the tall one-armed Faqir (religious beggar), who has been acting as Mera Bhatija’s pankah-wala. He evidently wants to talk with me; so, seeing me willing to listen, the tall fellow seats himself on the floor, and begins....
‘The poor fellow had been thinking how he could earn his livelihood,—he has a wife and four children, and of course religious begging would be for a convert both improper and unprofitable. “Pankah-pulling will last for but a short time,” he very truly observed. His plan was to start a little school in his own village.
‘“But could you get pupils?” I asked, knowing that the humble converts are not kindly treated by their neighbours.
‘“I think that I could from the hamlets round.”
‘Then I inquired as to the poor Faqir’s qualifications for a teacher. “I can read the Gospel well,” was the simple reply.
‘“Can you write?”
‘He was weak in that, poor fellow. Having only one arm increases the difficulty.
‘“Do you know accounts?”
‘“No,” he frankly owned; but he could learn; he would take pains.
‘“You had better speak to the Padri Sahib; he makes all the bandobast (arrangements); he is wise and kind.”
‘If I would speak to the Padri Sahib,—he could tell me; but with the Padri Sahib he was shy, etc.
‘It is rather refreshing to see a Native Christian, especially one brought up to regard idleness rather as a virtue, turning over in[326] his mind what he can do to earn his living. If we help poor M. to a little better education, perhaps his little village school may prove not a bad idea, for the scholars would learn what is good from him, though they could only have elementary teaching. I do not see why rustics should want high education. The Government are educating thousands of clever infidels, who cannot all find employment as clerks, etc., and who will despise manual labour. We want simple pious labourers to mind the plough, spell out their Testaments, and try to obey God’s commands.’
August and September this year saw Miss Tucker, not at Dalhousie, but at Dilur, 3000 feet above the sea, with forest-clothed Himalayan slopes below, and snow above. She went there, partly for the change, but more for the sake of staying with a young married couple, to whom her companionship was a boon. The snow appears to have soon vanished, as in one letter, written in September, she observes: ‘The mountains are quite high and bold enough for beauty, though to my comfort there is not a soup?on of snow upon any of them.’ From the budget of Dilur letters, only two quotations can be given. The first is rare in style at this period of Charlotte Tucker’s life. She seldom found time for written ‘cogitations.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘Dilur, Aug. 25.
‘This is a very quiet place ... so I have plenty of time for thinking. I have been musing to-day why it is so very much more easy to love some Christians than others. You and every other servant of God must feel this, I think. It is not quite easy to get at the bottom of the matter. I ought to have particular facilities for judging; for, thank God, I find it easy to love a good many.
‘I have been considering to-day that simile of the four different circles round Him Who is the Centre of light, holiness, and beauty. Those who live nearest to Him, I do believe, actually catch something, however faint, of His likeness.... Christ is the All-attractive; and in the degree that His redeemed ones reflect His Image, it seems to me that they unconsciously attract. If I be not mistaken in this idea, one sees why anything of littleness or meanness[327] repulses. Those possessing such qualities may be sincere servants of Christ; but these qualities spoil all likeness! So, love, here is the result of my cogitations, as I reclined on the sofa to rest myself after rather a tiring little expedition.
‘But oh, what a solemnising thought it is!—The likeness to Him, which we know will be apparent in another world, to begin in this! The glass of our souls, so spotted and dusty,—spotted with sin, and dusty with pettiness,—to be cleansed and polished, so as to receive such an Image! But you and I, love, have caught a glimpse of that Image in those whom we have been privileged to know; have we not?’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Sept. 29.
‘Yes, precious Laura, you might be sure that Char does not forget you in prayer any day; but your last dear letter from Ilfracombe made me more inclined to praise. It seemed as if God had granted just what I wished for you; that spiritual joy which is His special gift. Why should the Children of Light tread the pilgrim way in heaviness? “Light is sown for the righteous,” and the crop begins to show itself even here....’
Later, in the same letter, when speaking of two young converts, she says of one of them:—
‘He is a Mullah’s (Muhammadan religious teacher’s) son, and has been brought up in a fine school for bigotry. He told me what a merit it is considered to kill infidels; and that, when a child, he had intended to acquire this merit. “Do you mean that, if they could, the Muhammadans would think it right to kill all the Europeans and Native Christians?” I asked. “Beshakh!” (Without doubt!) replied the lad simply. Happily all Muhammadans are not Mullahs’ sons!’
‘Batala, Oct. 31, 1879.—What shall I say for the splendid box, which reached me in perfect condition to-night? I am almost bewildered by the multitude of my possessions, and have hardly yet quite realised their amount.... What shall I begin with?—not the medicine, surely,—and yet quinine is such a treasure in India, so often required, asked for! It is the medicine in a fever-land. And it is dreadfully expensive. I think that I once paid more than a guinea for a bottle, not a large one. But the cretonne—yes, that must have a principal place in my letter of thanks; such a splendid supply!...
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‘I hope that my Laura will forgive me if I do not gobble up all the groceries myself!! Of the chocolate and biscuit I shall probably largely partake; they are such a comfort on winter mornings....’
‘Nov. 13.—I think that this is the fourth Anniversary of my landing at Bombay,—my Indian birthday! Oh, how much I have to be thankful for! Surely goodness and mercy have followed me!
‘Shall I give you a sketch of this my Indian birthday? Up early—for I went to bed early. Ate two or three of my Laura’s biscuits, and enjoyed them. Wrote till dear good R. brought the hot water for my bath. Then came breakfast No. 2—tea and an egg. At 7 A.M., or thereabouts, the prayer-bell rings, and we all assemble in chapel. After chapel comes my delightful walk in the fresh morning air. A little more writing and reading, and—breakfast No. 3 with Mera Bhatija at 9. After that, off to the city on foot, my kahars carrying my duli behind me.
‘In the city I visited first a Muhammadan Zenana, then paid my weekly visit to our Brahmin convert, B.’s wife.... Then went to G. R.’s Zenana, where are four generations of the family. I can read the Gospel there, without let or hindrance. The sweet young Bibi looked as if she would like me to kiss her,—so I did! Then to Sadiq’s mother. After this I returned home, noted down where I had been, and then—did not set to my lessons. I had something else to do. The cloth of our large screen was dirty; so Mera Bhatija suggested our putting the pictures on a nice clean one, and having the first white-washed. So I got in my Ayah to help me, and we were stitching away like anything, when I was interrupted by a visitor.
‘No fashionable lady,—no insipid individual, such as you must talk to about weather, etc., but a fine, thoughtful young Man,—who had been given a New Testament, which he is reading every day, and who sat down on the floor, and quietly, gravely, asked me to explain difficulties which he had met with in his reading, such as Daniel’s “abomination of desolation,” the two women grinding, etc.... When he left, I returned to my beauty screen, but was interrupted by dear good Bibi M., who came to read her report. She also wanted quinine,—I am rich, my Laura knows. This brought me up to 3 o’clock dinner.
‘Poor N. N. is not well, so I had no afternoon lesson from a Munshi, but I did a little by myself. Then out into the bright, pleasant air, where I had a nice talk with dear I. and P. After I came in, Mera Bhatija and I had tea,—now I am writing to my Laura by lamplight; and when I lay down my pen, I intend to[329] do a little lessons. I have written out my vocabulary very large, so as not to injure my eyes. At 8? I shall hear the bell ring for prayers; and that almost closes the day.
‘Now is not this a very nice Indian birthday? I feel quite well and hearty now; much stronger than when in the Salt range.’
‘Nov. 22.—Cold having set in pretty sharply, I have taken my “graceful Grey” and faithful old Green out of their safe summer quarters, and have prepared them for immediate service, putting in lace to the sleeves, etc. The Episcopal Purple, my grand new dress, I reserve for grand occasions. My dress must be well fastened up, and decidedly more than clear the ground, when I go to Zenanas. See me, in fancy, climbing slowly up a dirty steep outside staircase. I have the indispensable umbrella in one hand,—though it be winter, the sun may be blazing,—my large books in the other. Unless I had a third hand, I could not hold up my dress; and the steps may be of mud. Trains, elegant in the house, would never do in Zenanas.... I hope that you and dear Leila will be interested to hear that our one-legged B., in search of a wife, has succeeded in finding one. I think that their banns have been called twice; and we shall probably see the happy pair next week.’
TO MISS ‘LEILA’ HAMILTON.
‘Nov. 29, 1879.
‘Yesterday, at last, the cricket-match between our School and the big Government School came off. We challenged the Government School long ago; but they took no notice. Yesterday, however, a match was arranged between our Christian School and the Government one, which is about ten or twelve times as large. We were much the first on the ground, and were kept waiting for more than an hour. Most of our Eleven wore red-checked flannel vests, but R. the captain had a becoming grey one.... At last the match commenced; but it was hardly worth calling one. The Government lads could not hold their own in the least! The whole Eleven only made 5 runs between them!
‘It was a very different thing when our boys took the batting. It does one good to hear the thud from R.’s bat when he sends the ball flying ever so far. He and S. made, I think, 87 runs, and were never bowled out. The rest of our boys had no turns at all; for the sun went down, and still R. and S., tired, but unconquered, held their wickets. What is most pleasing is that our boys did not crow as they might have done,—their opponents were too utterly[330] smashed. Had the contest been a close one, there would have been plenty of cheering.
‘I really hope that it may do good for it to be known through Batala that, in a manly game, the Hindus and Muhammadans “cannot hold a candle” to the Christian boys, who go preaching and singing hymns on Sunday! Piety is all the more attractive from union with manliness.
‘Dec. 8.—Mera Bhatija intends to start a reading-room in the city in 1880, with Bibles in various languages, books, and some Native periodicals. The Illustrated—if you think of continuing it—will form one of the baits. Many lads now can read a little English; and the pictures will form an attraction.’