CHAPTER XXIA.D.1893THE HOME-GOING

‘Feb. 21.—Village. B. Saw fourteen girls; only eleven worthy of being counted. Heard of five more. C. D. Did not see him, but E., F., and another familiar face. Men and women listened to story of Knocking, etc. Some man said, did not understand me. I repeated John iii. 16, and asked E. to repeat it too. He did so, and no one could pretend not to understand. I asked E. to instruct them; he said simply that it was difficult for a Hindu to teach about Christ, and twice said that a Christian preacher should be sent. Hindu Bibis nice. Seeing the picture of Knocking, they seemed to understand; and one or two appeared tohaveopened the door of the heart....’

‘Feb. 22.—G. H. Gentle, pleasing. I lent herStories for Women. J. nicer than I have ever found her. K., a delightful visit. Her husband, L. M., a fine-looking man, has returned, and the family aresohappy. I saw first one, then another child, on the father’s knee; the sweet wife’s face is full of pleasure. L. M. says that he is going to be a Christian.... His brother, N. O., seems a thoughtful, nice man. He is puzzled about God’s having a Son, but told me that he did not ask questions for controversy, but wishing to be instructed....’

‘March 27.—Village. P. Sirdar’s house. Pretty bibi, not attentive, and bhatija ill-mannered. Other boys listened, specially nice R.... Take more Urdu and Gurmukhi, and a little Hindi next time. Gave three Gospels and other books. Weather cold.’

‘May 19.—S. T. Charming. U. V. sixteen years old. Appears to be the wife of the uncle of some andgrandfatherof others, in the house.... Has Gospel andPilgrim’s Progress. Read and translated to me some pages of latter, with great emphasis. Seems a believer. I have sent her Psalms in Hindi....’

‘June 15.—Adopted Lefroy as Nephew.... Fancy-fair.’

‘June 17.—With W.’s bibi and Ayahs, Ascension and Pentecost. Evening walk, met two respectable-looking men. Had Urdu and Hindi Gospels in my hand. One man’s glance at Urdu encouraged me to offer it. Man much pleased. Talked English; in some way belongs to Viceroy. Wished to give me something for Gospel. I said that I did not sell, but gave it with pleasure. Other man readily received Hindi Gospel. A little farther met with a curious-looking man, with appearance of a devotee. Offered him Gurmukhi Gospel. Accepted eagerly, and, to my surprise, took my hand, and said earnestly in English, “Thanks—dear—Madam!” Lord, bless Thy Word!’

‘June 27.—Returned from Simla. Happy journey downhill with dear Lefroy. I have left Batala work for four weeks and four days.

‘June 28.—Full of difficulties. Lord, help me! CLOSED DISPENSARY.’

‘Aug. 31.— ... Here closes August, a month of Blessings....’

‘Oct. 28.—Village. P. started for V. But all V.’s inhabitants seemed to have turned out for the funeral of a young man. Probably eighty or a hundred present. I turned to the left, where about forty women and girls were standing or seated on the ground. I repeated twice over to them, not singing, a little hymn which I had made; also the precious verse, “God so loved.” Had not only good listening, but some of the women repeated after me the burden of the hymn. I had chest-cold, so could not have sung without coughing.’

The last page of Miss Tucker’s Diary, which follows immediately after this entry of October 28, is reproduced in facsimile.

Writing to Miss Minnie Dixie on July 21, 1893, she asked: ‘Have you heard that I have a new nephew, Mr.Lefroy? He is Irish, of Huguenot descent.... He is a gifted man, and a devoted Missionary.’ Mr. Lefroy, belonging to the Cambridge Delhi Mission, which is in connection with the S.P.G., has been mentioned in an earlier letter as arguing for over five successive hours with Muhammadans in a mosque. This was probably the latest of her numerous Indian ‘adoptions.’

She was for months in much trouble about the Dispensary, as it seemed impossible to find any one, European or Indian, capable of undertaking it and also free to do so. The attendance had been good; often more than a hundred women in one day coming for help; and Miss Tucker was exceedingly desirous to keep it open. But so many had broken down, or were absent on furlough, that for a while the closing proved unavoidable.

That, from time to time, Miss Tucker suffered from depression and moods of sadness, there can be no question. She never allowed such moods to interfere with her work; but she was not always in a state of high spirits and rejoicing. If nothing else showed this, it would be plain from certain brief passages in her journal, occurring at intervals,—sometimes at long intervals. Such passages as these speak plainly:—

‘1888.—I have suffered a good deal from bodily languor and mental depression.’ ‘1888. Depression has overtaken me. Thank God, not doubt or despair.’ ‘1891. Felt the weight of years much; work a struggle.’ ‘1892. I begin my seventy-second year with a sense of weakness almost amounting to exhaustion.’

But these and others of the same description were exceptional. In a general way her steadfast courage and cheerfulness were remarkable.

On the 30th of August 1893 she wrote to Mr. Bateman in a strain as cheery as ever, despite the weight of years and worries:—

‘O my dearest Rowland,—So you take to lecturing your ancient Auntie, because she has come down to the Plains, where even an old woman isneeded, instead of being a weak, languishing, fine lady up at Simla, where she was not needed one bit. Why, I am ever so much more frisky here, more cheerful and well, as well as more useful. Barring a few infirmities of age, I am in as good health, I think, as I ever was in England. I paid a good visit to-day to a village about four miles off, and am none the worse. Why, Rowland, I am actually theonlyMissionary, man or woman, now in Batala; and I have not dear Babu Singha, for he is at Chamba. Who would there be to escort our little train of bibis and bachelors to Chapel every afternoon, if an old dame were not here? I feel like a hen with chickens; and Herbert said that we look like a school. We are sometimes the better part of the congregation; for we have little girls home from school, and expect more here, and two little boys also from Narowal. Batala without a Miss T. would be like a teapot without a top.‘But you must not fancy that I am alone. Mr. Clark has considerately sent me a lovely young German lady, to keep house for me, which she does very nicely, and I am becoming a little fatter. I often take her to Zenanas with me; but there she is rather a hindrance than a help.... People will stare at her, instead of listening to me. She cannot help being attractive. She is very happy with me; but of course, as she does not do Mission work, this arrangement must not continue after Miss Clarke comes back from the Hills.‘Now I hope that you are satisfied, dear Rowland, that there has been no foolish imprudence, or worshipping of her old broken net, on the part of your ever attachedAuntie.‘Kind love to Helen. Mr. Gray is to come for next Sunday’s services!’

‘But you must not fancy that I am alone. Mr. Clark has considerately sent me a lovely young German lady, to keep house for me, which she does very nicely, and I am becoming a little fatter. I often take her to Zenanas with me; but there she is rather a hindrance than a help.... People will stare at her, instead of listening to me. She cannot help being attractive. She is very happy with me; but of course, as she does not do Mission work, this arrangement must not continue after Miss Clarke comes back from the Hills.

‘Now I hope that you are satisfied, dear Rowland, that there has been no foolish imprudence, or worshipping of her old broken net, on the part of your ever attached

Auntie.

‘Kind love to Helen. Mr. Gray is to come for next Sunday’s services!’

On the 13th of October, in a letter to Miss Edith Tucker, she observed: ‘I have such a nice Missionary companion, Miss Gertrude Clarke.... Batala is filling again; it was so empty during the holidays, that, had not Miss L. been sent to keep me company, I should have had no European within twenty miles. I was sole Missionary here.’

On the 31st of the same month, October, she wrote to Miss Minnie Dixie:—

‘I made a grand expedition last week,—I have still four days of my six weeks’ holiday left; but as we enter November to-morrow, I am not likely to take them. I actually went to Bahrwal, and saw the Consecration of Mr. and Mrs. Perkins’ choice little church; simple, but in nice taste.... The dear Bishop was of course there, and held a Confirmation Service in the afternoon, at which about twelve or fourteen Peasant converts were received. I saw a good many friends....‘I send you a little hymn, which you may like to sing. It is perhaps the last thing which may be composed by your affectionate aged Auntie,C. M. Tucker.’

‘I send you a little hymn, which you may like to sing. It is perhaps the last thing which may be composed by your affectionate aged Auntie,

C. M. Tucker.’

From these words it would seem as if already some dim sense had come that her time on Earth was nearly over. She was indeed drawing very close to the dark River, which to her did not look dark but bright; and perhaps her eyes had already caught the ‘glitter’ of its waters. A friend, writing soon after, observed: ‘She had been growing more and more conscious of weakness, if not actually weaker, and was looking forward eagerly to release.’ In the month of November came what she was wont to call ‘her Indian Birthday,’—the day on which she had first landed on Indian shores, eighteen years before. And, as she soon after said, when ill, though not yet so ill as to cause anxiety: ‘When the Anniversary of my arrival in this country came round this year, I felt that my work was done, and that I should not live to see another.’

To some minds it may appear as if this perpetual longing for death contained something of a morbid and unhealthy nature. No doubt, as a general rule, it is perfectly natural to cling to life, to shrink from death; and where a desire for the latter exists, it often is romantic and unnatural, or else it arises from impatience of life’s troubles, and from a wish to escape those troubles. This, however, was not the case with Charlotte Tucker. Her romance was never unhealthy romance; she was not cowardly, nor was she in the least morbid. On the contrary, she was thoroughly healthy, high-spirited, vigorous in body andmind,—exceptionally vigorous for her years, through the greater part of middle life and old age, till within a short time before her death. And although she had certainly numerous trials in the course of her seventy-two years,—as who has not?—hers was in many respects a very happy life. She had freedom from money cares; she had plenty of interests; she had success in her pursuits; she had abundance of loving and steadfast friends; she had, above all, one most satisfying intimacy; and, in addition to these things, she had a natural buoyancy, a keen sense of fun, a ready appreciation of the ridiculous, which in themselves would brighten life, and which arenotcharacteristics usually found in morbid and self-centred people.

What was unusual in her was the strong and intense realisation of the Other World. Spiritual things to her were absolutely real. That which is unseen was to her as if seen. The love of Christ was more to her than the love of all earthly friends. Paradise was more to her than Earth. It was not that she did not love Earth, but that her love for Heaven was greater. It was not that she could not enter into the bright things of this world, but that she found the things of the Other World brighter still. She could never be satisfied with the present life; because she was always craving for the higher existence, always longing to rise ‘nearer—nearer’ to God. She was like a caged lark, impatient for freedom. And at last, after all these years of waiting, the time was come.

Up to the end of October Miss Tucker had seemed to be on the whole much the same as usual; though more than one watcher had noted a gradual failure of strength. The expedition to Bahrwal, for the Dedication, proved to be too much for her powers; especially as she insisted on returning to Batala the same evening, so as not to break into another day’s work.

At the time she appeared, as Mrs. Wade afterwards wrote, ‘though frail, wonderfully bright, ... full of conversation while talking to the Bishop and others.’ When the ‘feast’ took place she sat upon the ground among the Indian Christians, after her old style, utterly refusing a chair. Some who were present left in the middle of the day, so soon as the Dedication was over; but Miss Tucker remained till the evening, so as to be present at the second Service. Notwithstanding her brightness, Mr. Clark was much impressed with the alteration in her look; and he has since said that ‘she evidently believed it to be her leave-taking.’

The day ended, Miss Tucker seemed very much exhausted; and when returning by rail, with Mr. and Mrs. Wade, she lay down on the seat to rest. The result of this expedition was a severe cold, with much hoarseness; and though her daily work went on as usual, she musthave felt very poorly. Mr. Clark speaks of her as, a few days later, passing through Amritsar, and calling to see himself and his wife. So ill did he think her looking, that the expression he makes use of is: ‘Death was even then written on her face.’

Others do not appear to have been so soon alarmed. On November 13, writing to Miss Dixie, Miss Tucker mentioned casually, ‘I have a cold,’ as an excuse for her shaking hand; and said no more. But it was ‘the beginning of the end.’

About this time she kindly took in a friend, Mrs. C——, who seemed poorly and in need of change; and who, after coming to ‘Sonnenschein,’ proved to be seriously ill. Miss Tucker sat much with her, in a hot room; going out from thence, late each evening, into the night air, to reach her own little dwelling. On the 11th, two days before her letter to Miss Dixie, she confessed to pain in the side, telegraphed for a nurse, and went to bed. Next day, Sunday, she was up again, and at Church. Then the Nurse appeared, to be sent off on Monday, in charge of Mrs. C——, to Amritsar; after which again Miss Tucker went down.

Dr. Clark came to see her; and though the fever was not very high, and no especial anxiety was felt, it was decided that she ought to go to Amritsar to be nursed—a Doctor there being on the spot. Miss Tucker was much grieved at the decision. She longed to remain, and to die in her dear Batala; and even then, evidently, she was making up her mind to the likelihood of death. But, however unwillingly, she submitted to the wishes of others, and went.

THE LAST PAGE OF A. L. O. E.’S DIARY

The journey did no harm; and on arrival at Amritsar Miss Tucker was most tenderly nursed by her friend, Miss Wauton, and others, with the help soon of a regular nurse. But though the fever yielded to remedies, and thebronchitis improved, both the cough and pain becoming for some days better, she was worn out, and had no rallying power. The weakness was extreme, and the dislike to food could not be overcome. Steadily and slowly she sank, lasting just three weeks from the date of the latest tremulous entry in her Journal.

Dr. Arthur Lankester[142]had written on the 27th of October: ‘Sorry to say Auntie has taken a severe chill at Bahrwal; she looks very frail and weak; only, she is so wonderful that we all hope she will soon be about once more, to cheer us all with her bright, sweet smile.’ He wrote again on Nov. 22: ‘Dear Miss Tucker has been moved to the Mission-house here,[143]and I am thankful to be allowed to be with her. She is very, very ill, but so bright, and longing to go “Home.” I fear she is fast sinking. It is a great privilege to be allowed to help look after her.’ And again, on Nov. 30: ‘Auntie sinking fast; the end can’t be far off. O what joy and glory are waiting for her!—for us a terrible blank that nothing can fill. No one could be quite like her.’

The last dictated letter of Charlotte Tucker was to her niece, Mrs. J. Boswell, on the 21st of November:—

‘My dearest Bella Francis,—You will all like to know how I am getting on. I have come again to House Beautiful in Amritsar, where the four sweet damsels, Faith, etc., glide about to see to my comfort. Yesterday dear Gertrude joined us, and also Miss B. A., so there is a regular bevy. Dr. Clark said yesterday, with a very broad smile, that we were getting on; but I cannot quite see the pith of this. When a worn-out ekka horse tumbles down on the road, and no one can make him get up, one can scarcely say that he is getting on. Getting up must come first. I ought to be very thankful for so much kindness; but you can imagine, darling, that when I hope to soar on eagle’s wings, it is rather a trial to have the doctor tie them down so tightly, that when I hope to fly I cannot even creep.‘I fancy this has been an attack of bronchitis and influenza. Now this is difficult to me even to dictate. Would you have littlebulletins roughly printed on my account, and put them in envelopes, and send them to ——?‘: after which follows a list of relatives and friends in England, together with one or two short messages, and a request that they would ask for her ‘patience and perfect submission.’

‘I fancy this has been an attack of bronchitis and influenza. Now this is difficult to me even to dictate. Would you have littlebulletins roughly printed on my account, and put them in envelopes, and send them to ——?‘: after which follows a list of relatives and friends in England, together with one or two short messages, and a request that they would ask for her ‘patience and perfect submission.’

The day succeeding Miss Tucker’s arrival in Amritsar Mrs. Wade came to see her; and during either that call or the next Miss Tucker put the question, ‘Is my face altered?’ Mrs. Wade hesitated, unable to deny that she saw a change. Miss Tucker immediately added: ‘Don’t mind telling me. It is harder to be patient on this pillow than to go inside the Golden Gate.’ And to Miss Jackson she said: ‘To depart and to be with Christ is soverymuch better!’

Many friends came to ask after her; but on account of her excessive feebleness a very limited number could be admitted; only one or two in the day, and merely for a few minutes each.

One day, on hearing Mr. Clark’s voice outside, she said, ‘Is that Mr. Clark?’ They told her that she must not see any one; she was too weak. ‘But I must see him!’ she replied; and then, ‘Iwillsee him!’—with a flash of the old determination. When he was brought in she said to him: ‘I am dying! I know it. I am very happy,—in perfect peace,—without a doubt or a care,—but I have none of the rapturous feelings of triumph, which I have rather looked forward to!’ Then she added: ‘It is best as it is!’ The next day and the day after, when Mr. Clark was again admitted, she was both times too ill to say anything.

She was indeed this time far too entirely worn out and exhausted, both bodily and mentally, for any shout of joy. All was quiet trust, perfect confidence; but eagerness and exultation were physically out of the question. She could only wait peacefully to be carried through the waters of the River. Rapture would come when she reached the Other Side.

Still, there was the same longing as ever to go. Several times she said: ‘Do not pray that I may stay here.’ And another time: ‘Christ has abolished death! I am longing to go Home!’

On Sunday, November 26th, Mr. Wade came to her room for Holy Communion; Miss Wauton and Miss Jackson being present. Miss Tucker was perfectly clear in mind, and able to join audibly in the responses; but the after-exhaustion was great.

Sometimes she would speak lovingly of her friends, and would wish that she could see one and another. ‘It is a pity Rowland Bateman is not here,’ she said. Also she would give directions for presents to be sent to one and another after her death. On the 27th she sent for Babu Singha, and mentioned particulars as to the manner in which she wished her funeral to be conducted. The boys—her dear brown boys, as she had so often called them—were to carry her to the grave, on a native charpai. No coffin was to be used; and the expenditure might not exceed five rupees. She was of course to be buried in Batala. Nobody was to shed tears; nobody was to put on mourning; and her own funeral hymn, one which she had written quite lately in Urdu, was to be sung.

One day Miss Jackson repeated the hymn, ‘For ever with the Lord!’—and Miss Tucker said, ‘That is my favourite hymn!’ So it too was afterwards chosen to be sung at the funeral.

On Wednesday, November 29, her temperature fell to 95°; and great difficulty was experienced in restoring it to normal. Two days later it fell again; and this time there was no rally. The cough and other symptoms were exceedingly trying; and all Friday night she suffered greatly from oppression, restlessness, and weariness. Again and again she could be heard to murmur, ‘Quickly! Quickly!’ Nothing else that she said could be distinguished.

Early in the morning of Saturday, December the 2nd, she became more placid; and when asked if she felt any pain she made a negative sign. Dr. Weitbrecht came to read and pray with her. She seemed to recognise him, and to understand what he said; but she had no power to articulate. Soon after this unconsciousness set in, and lasted to the end, broken only once by a lifting of the eyelids, and an upward look, as if she saw something which others could not see.

At a quarter-past three in the afternoon, calmly and without a struggle, she passed away.

The change which came over her in death was remarkable. A change is often seen; a return sometimes to greater youth and beauty. Death smooths away wrinkles, refines rugged features, sharpens the outlines. But in this case the transformation was of a rare type. ‘I never saw a face so altered,’ wrote Dr. Clark, who had attended her. ‘It became a face of massive power; more like that of the Duke of Wellington than anything else; the nose particularly so, and the jaw. A strong, massive, determined, powerful face. I suppose the power was always there, but masked by the habitual gentleness and tender consideration for all around, which was so beautiful a feature in her beautiful character.’

This allusion to the Duke of Wellington naturally recalls her ardent admiration for him. She would in life have probably counted no compliment greater than to have been called like him. But the description is singular, because her features had never been of the same type as the Duke’s features. She had not a Roman nose; and while many describe hers as a ‘bright face,’ ‘a sparkling face,’ ‘a long, thin face,’ and even in one case ‘a small face’ no one ever uses such words as ‘massive’ or ‘powerful,’ as descriptive of her appearance at any period of her life. The touch of death seems to have torn awaya kind of veil, leaving bare the original outlines; perhaps to some extent indicating what the face might have become, if unsoftened by the moulding influences of discipline.

Miss Jackson wrote from Amritsar, on Monday, December 4th: ‘Yesterday the Dead March was played in Church, and all the congregation stood. It was announced that all who wished to take a last look at the dear face could do so at our house at a certain hour; and about sixty availed themselves of this permission.’ And Miss Wauton adds: ‘Miss Jackson will have told you that many friends in Amritsar came on Sunday afternoon, to take their last look at the peaceful sleeper. The hands were clasped as if in prayer. The face was thin and worn; but this only brought out a clearer chiselling of the features; and the calmness of death gave a grandeur and nobility to the expression, beyond anything we had seen in the face while living. She looked, as one friend said, “like a Crusader.”’

On December the 4th they bore all that remained on Earth of Charlotte Tucker from Amritsar to Batala. As she had forbidden the use of a coffin, the body was laid upon a small Native bedstead, and, being carefully secured in position, was conveyed thus, not by rail but by road. On reaching Batala, the charpai, with its quiet burden, was placed in the Church of the Epiphany,—known colloquially as ‘the large Church,’ to distinguish it from the little School ‘Chapel,’—there to remain till morning. Some of the Baring High School boys took turns in watching beside the loved form all night through.

Next day, Tuesday, was fixed upon for the funeral. It had been delayed unusually long, to allow friends from a distance to be present. A great many came from Amritsar, Lahore, and other stations; and a message from the Bishop expressed his regret at being unavoidably keptaway by a Confirmation. The Archdeacon and the Bishop’s Chaplain were both present, as also were Dr. Weitbrecht, Mr. Clark, Mr. Wade, Mr. Mackenzie, Mr. Wright, Mr. Wigram, Mr. Shireff, Mr. Hoare, Mr. Coverdale, and Mr. Grey, all in white surplices. A large congregation filled the whole Church, including Missionaries, friends, Native Christians, Non-Christians of Batala, and boys of both the High School and the ‘Plough.’ The first part of the Burial Service was read there; and two or three hymns were sung. Mr. Clark preached a short sermon from Acts i. 8.

Then began the Procession from the Church to the little Christian Cemetery; the latter being close to ‘Sonnenschein,’ and nearly two miles away from the Church. Happily it was a cool day; and the roads had been well watered beforehand. A Police-guard preceded the Procession.

First came the surpliced Clergy; then the bier, which was covered with a white chaddah; while many beautiful white Crosses and wreaths sent by friends were laid upon it. Some of the older schoolboys carried the bier, taking turns. Next came the ladies and other Missionaries; also the general congregation, and the rest of the boys. Crowds of leading Batala men were present. A letter from Miss Wauton, written at the time, describes the scene graphically:—

‘After the Easter hymn, “Lo, in the grave He lay,” the congregation then formed into Procession; the Clergy first, then the Bier.... The long line of followers stretched out, till we could scarcely see the end of it. The distance being about two miles, the walk occupied more than an hour. Hymns were sung the whole way; and the groups of people, Hindus and Muhammadans, who lined the road and crowded the tops of the houses, as we passed the city, seemed much interested in looking on. Many of them, I think, came as far as the Cemetery.‘As we passed through the gates, copies of a hymn were distributed,which the dear Auntie had composed about three weeks before she was taken ill. On sending it to me at the time, she added in her letter: “Perhaps you will like to see my little funeral hymn. Perhaps it may be sung when I go to sleep.”‘We also had the hymn, “Jesus lives”; and closed with her favourite, “For ever with the Lord.” Deep feeling was shown; and many of the boys could scarcely restrain their tears. We all felt we had lost a friend, such as we should never see again. The Mission is bereaved,—not only Batala, but the whole of the Panjab; and we all mourn our loss together....‘Dr. Weitbrecht had arranged everything for yesterday most beautifully. The whole Service was, I think, in perfect accordance with her wishes; simple, sweet, and solemn, yet with an element of joy and hope about it, which was suitable to her bright, joyous nature. We could indeed give thanks for the fight she had fought, the course she had finished, the crown she had won; and so we laid her down,—till the Day break and the shadows flee away. “Till He come!”’

‘As we passed through the gates, copies of a hymn were distributed,which the dear Auntie had composed about three weeks before she was taken ill. On sending it to me at the time, she added in her letter: “Perhaps you will like to see my little funeral hymn. Perhaps it may be sung when I go to sleep.”

‘We also had the hymn, “Jesus lives”; and closed with her favourite, “For ever with the Lord.” Deep feeling was shown; and many of the boys could scarcely restrain their tears. We all felt we had lost a friend, such as we should never see again. The Mission is bereaved,—not only Batala, but the whole of the Panjab; and we all mourn our loss together....

‘Dr. Weitbrecht had arranged everything for yesterday most beautifully. The whole Service was, I think, in perfect accordance with her wishes; simple, sweet, and solemn, yet with an element of joy and hope about it, which was suitable to her bright, joyous nature. We could indeed give thanks for the fight she had fought, the course she had finished, the crown she had won; and so we laid her down,—till the Day break and the shadows flee away. “Till He come!”’

Another eye-witness, Mrs. Wade, wrote:—

‘We were very thankful that it was possible to delay the meeting at Batala till Tuesday, as it gave opportunity for friends from some distance to be present. We all met in the Church for the first part of the Service and sermon by Mr. Clark,—the dear familiar face no longer among the worshippers, but in the King’s Presence.... The walk from the Church to the little Cemetery, quite near her own home, is long, and occupied an hour; during which time many hymns of faith and love were softly sung, and at the grave her own hymn, one she had composed not six weeks ago for her own funeral.... Dr. Weitbrecht then completed the Service.... The silence of the onlookers, as one went towards the grave, was very noticeable. Many of them felt that they had indeed lost a friend. A large number of the Native gentlemen of the City were present in the Church and during the Service, with reverent demeanour; and when we had left, I was told, many of the poor women came to weep at her grave.‘We thank God for all she was during the long life, and especially in the eighteen years in India.... Batala will never be the same. Many of the elder boys, who carried her, were weeping.’

‘We thank God for all she was during the long life, and especially in the eighteen years in India.... Batala will never be the same. Many of the elder boys, who carried her, were weeping.’

And from the pen of Dr. Weitbrecht we have the following:—

‘After the Burial was over, I spoke a few words about her to the many people who had assembled from outside, trying to impress on them the motive power of her life: “The love of Christ constraineth us.” After most of the Clergy and visitors had left the Cemetery, a number of women from the city came to take a last look, and to wail at the grave. Times without number, gentlemen of Batala and men of lower standing come to tell me how she went to their houses, and sympathised with their wives and daughters in joy and sorrow. Not a few will miss her open-handed charity; and, far more, her bright, ever-ready sympathy.’

The Urdu hymn, written by Miss Tucker for her own funeral, has been roughly translated as follows:—

‘The beloved Jesus sleeps in the grave;Morn breaks, and He Who came to saveHas risen, glorious King of Kings,Victorious o’er all evil things.It is Christ’s power, Christ’s glorious Crown;His rule shall spread with much renown;Christ has risen, ne’er to die;Hallelujah! Victory!’

‘The beloved Jesus sleeps in the grave;

Morn breaks, and He Who came to save

Has risen, glorious King of Kings,

Victorious o’er all evil things.

It is Christ’s power, Christ’s glorious Crown;

His rule shall spread with much renown;

Christ has risen, ne’er to die;

Hallelujah! Victory!’

One fact may be mentioned, as a slight token of the loving esteem in which she was held. When Miss Wauton took the hymn to be printed, the Manager of the Press,—not himself a Christian, but one who had known Miss Tucker,—said immediately, ‘Oh, are those lines Miss Tucker’s? Then I will do them for nothing.’ He printed off some hundreds at his own expense.

Out of the innumerable letters written to friends, after the passing away of Charlotte Tucker, three short extracts alone must be given.

FROM THE BISHOP OF LAHORE.‘For the simple yet always aspiring spirit the change will be a blessed one indeed! Her endurance unto the end, and her constant rejoicing in the Lord, have been a great example, which many of us need to follow.... It was a beautiful and consistent life; and she will still speak, though out of sight.’

FROM THE BISHOP OF LAHORE.

‘For the simple yet always aspiring spirit the change will be a blessed one indeed! Her endurance unto the end, and her constant rejoicing in the Lord, have been a great example, which many of us need to follow.... It was a beautiful and consistent life; and she will still speak, though out of sight.’

FROM THE REV. ROBERT CLARK.‘Miss Tucker ... will not be easily forgotten there (at Batala), nor indeed in India generally, where her name will long continue to be a household word, both for what she was and for what she did. In giving her to India, the Church of Christ gave of her very best.’

FROM THE REV. ROBERT CLARK.

‘Miss Tucker ... will not be easily forgotten there (at Batala), nor indeed in India generally, where her name will long continue to be a household word, both for what she was and for what she did. In giving her to India, the Church of Christ gave of her very best.’

FROM THE REV. ROWLAND BATEMAN.‘There is but one voice from India, whether it comes from Natives or Europeans.... Do you know those lines of Toplady’s, beginning, “Deathless Principle arise”? They are old-fashioned and out of date,i.e.out of the range of the rising generation, but they are peculiarly beautiful, and keep recurring, as I mentally pass through the ministry which Miss Wauton and others were privileged to offer to our beloved Aunt in Amritsar. There is one touch in Dr. Weitbrecht’s p.c. which may not have reached you. He mentions that many women came from the city, to wail at the grave. This is as it should be; for though we know better than to wail or even weep over the grave, in them it is but the expression of love and appreciation and real kindred. Nobody—I speak of non-Christians—weeps and wails except over relatives. We are sorely wounded, and our spirits suffer a sort of collapse; but we have only to go over the hallowed, holy memory of her converse and example, to feel refreshed and braced again.‘“With joy and gladness has she been brought,And has entered into the King’s Palace.”’

FROM THE REV. ROWLAND BATEMAN.

‘There is but one voice from India, whether it comes from Natives or Europeans.... Do you know those lines of Toplady’s, beginning, “Deathless Principle arise”? They are old-fashioned and out of date,i.e.out of the range of the rising generation, but they are peculiarly beautiful, and keep recurring, as I mentally pass through the ministry which Miss Wauton and others were privileged to offer to our beloved Aunt in Amritsar. There is one touch in Dr. Weitbrecht’s p.c. which may not have reached you. He mentions that many women came from the city, to wail at the grave. This is as it should be; for though we know better than to wail or even weep over the grave, in them it is but the expression of love and appreciation and real kindred. Nobody—I speak of non-Christians—weeps and wails except over relatives. We are sorely wounded, and our spirits suffer a sort of collapse; but we have only to go over the hallowed, holy memory of her converse and example, to feel refreshed and braced again.

‘“With joy and gladness has she been brought,And has entered into the King’s Palace.”’

‘“With joy and gladness has she been brought,

And has entered into the King’s Palace.”’

So ends the story of Charlotte Maria Tucker; for fifty-four yearsA Lady of England, and for eighteen yearsA Lady of India. It is the story of a brave and self-sacrificing life, whether in her quiet English home, or in the vicissitudes of her Indian career. I have done my best to present her simply and truly as that which she was,—a very unusual and noble character, with of course some of those defects which are found in even the best and noblest of men and women. Charlotte Tucker would herself have been the first to deprecate any attempt to make her out a faultless being. Faultless she was not; but shewassingularly true, unselfish, devoted, single-hearted, earnest-minded, and loving.

The one aim perpetually before her eyes was to carry out the Will of her Father in Heaven, alike in the greatest and in the smallest matters. Whether she were striving to bring the Heathen to a knowledge of the Truth, whether she were discussing difficult questions with a Muhammadan, whether she were writing a book, whether she were entertaining a guest, whether she were trying to cheer a sick friend, whether she were playing a game with little brown boys,—in any case she put the whole of herself into the task which she had in hand, and she did it ‘unto God.’ To the utmost of her ability, all that she undertook was done thoroughly. There was no half-heartedness, no slurring over of one thing or another. Difficulties, oppositions, failures, discouragements, lack of apparent results, all these, instead of disheartening her, seemed rather to spur her on to renewed efforts.

Beyond the few words above, no eulogistic ending to her Biography is needed. If her Life as it was lived does not speak for itself, mere words of praise would be thrown away. It is possible that her example, in going out to India after the age of fifty, will lead others to do the same; and if so, one object of her going will have been accomplished. That may well be the result in England of her eighteen years’ toil. The results in India lie beyond our puny powers of measurement.

FOOTNOTES[1]It was a custom in the family, through several generations, to give a Christmas present to each child ofnew silver, the amount given being one shilling for each year of age, and sixpence in addition. Thus, a child of ten would receive ten and sixpence, all in new silver.[2]One of a band of robbers.[3]Chief police-officer.[4]At the Official East India Company’s dinner, given by the Directors; ladies being admitted to a gallery as spectators.[5]A pet name for her sister.[6]Two Noble Lives, vol. ii. p. 220.[7]Mr. Tucker. He was never knighted.[8]Prince and Princess of Wales.[9]Of the Marylebone Workhouse.[10]Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s sister Laura.[11]Mr. Henry Carre Tucker.[12]The lady’s-maid.[13]Otho’s youngest brother, who died an infant.[14]A tiny Memorial of Letitia, containing some of her verses.[15]The two chief interests of Otho Hamilton in his short life were—Natural History, and Missions among the Heathen. This is doubtless in reference to the latter.[16]Marriage of Miss Bella Frances Tucker to her cousin, the Rev. James Boswell.[17]Mr. St. George Tucker retired this year (1869) from the Indian Civil Service; and his sister Fanny was at this time paying along visit to him and his wife.[18]Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s brother, Mr. William Tucker.[19]Father and Mother of Mrs. St. G. Tucker.[20]As a curious instance of differing views, another relative, who perhaps had had even better opportunities for judging, says: ‘Notsympathizing; most kind, but could not place herself in the position of another.’[21]One of the Zenana Missionaries at Amritsar.[22]Doubtless covered with snow.[23]In a letter of Mrs. H. B. Stowe is the following passage, referring to Niagara:—‘I felt as if I could have gone over with the waters: it would be so beautiful a death: there would be no fear in it.’—Life of H. B. Stowe, p. 75, pub. 1889.[24]Missionary Ladies.[25]Show.[26]Honorary mode of address.[27]Pronouncedpurdah.[28]PronouncedPunjāb.[29]PronouncedUmritsar.[30]Her travelling companion from Bombay.[31]Considerable allowance here and elsewhere must be made for Miss Tucker’s habit of seeing things as far as possiblecouleur-de-rose. Large rooms in the Indian climate are, moreover, not a mere luxury, but a necessity for health.[32]Teacher.[33]Pronouncedchuddars.[34]The Rev. Robert Clark.[35]Mrs. Elmslie.[36]Teacher.[37]Sometimes she would take a week or ten days additional at some other season in the year.[38]Many Missionaries live upon less than £155. See next page.[39]A pet name for Mrs. Elmslie.[40]Often spelt by English writersdoli,dooli, ordhooli. Pronounced,dooly.[41]A learned Hindu. Pronounced,pundit.[42]Adopted nephew, the Rev. Rowland Bateman.[43]Miss Wauton.[44]Watchman.[45]Padri Sadiq, Native Clergyman.[46]German Missionary at Amritsar.[47]Native bedstead.[48]Tailor.[49]Queen.[50]Carrying things with a high hand.[51]Miss Swainson.[52]Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton were away for a few weeks in the Hills with Miss Swainson.[53]This was an early stage.Nowthe learned Pandit, K. S., is an Ordained Clergyman.[54]‘My brother.’[55]Meaning ‘bud of a pomegranate.’[56]A clockwork toy.[57]Connected with the Government.[58]Rough roads, unmade roads.[59]Duli-carrier.[60]Idle.[61]Flat cakes of bread.[62]Native song, or hymn set to Native tune.[63]Divinities.[64]A kind of post-chaise.[65]Bananas.[66]This, unhappily, proved later to be a mistaken estimate.[67]The Catechist.[68]The Rev. Rowland Bateman, just recovered from severe illness.[69]Cream-coloured dress worn at a Conference.[70]Precipice or ravine.[71]Founder of the Sikh religion.[72]Miss Tucker in this letter ascribes the said change to the work of others; but there can be no doubt that her own influence had largely contributed to bring it about.[73]Mrs. Elmslie was going home on furlough.[74]Mr. Bateman, Mr. Wade, Mr. Weitbrecht, Mr. Baring....[75]Adopted son of the Rev. Robert Clark; afterwards known as Dr. H. M. Clark....[76]Lentils.[77]Bishop French.[78]‘My Nephew’; term constantly used by A. L. O. E. for Mr. Baring.[79]President of the Zenana Society.[80]Grove of mango trees.[81]Not always perfect security. Instances have occurred, though seldom, of Missionaries themselves being attacked and roughly handled on such occasions.[82]PronouncedGrunt.[83]Teacher.[84]Bibi Singha.[85]Muhammadan teachers.[86]Notallactually Batala converts; some having come from Amritsar, in connection with the school, etc.[87]Threatened war with Afghanistan.[88]Though I speak in the past tense, the same terms apply to the present.[89]Cotton mats.[90]Early breakfast.[91]Idle.[92]Hats.[93]Marylebone.[94]Native Bible-woman.[95]Custom.[96]The Bishop of Calcutta and the Bishop of Lahore.[97]Mrs. Hamilton’s house.[98]Native official.[99]Very low caste.[100]Water-carrier.[101]Watchman.[102]Washerman.[103]One of the boys.[104]This particular Faqir, Miss Tucker meant.[105]Some Native ladies.[106]Mrs. Hamilton’s gift.[107]A Native clergyman.[108]Sir Charles Aitcheson, the Lieutenant-Governor.[109]Naughty ones.[110]A young Native.[111]A leading Salvationist.[112]Sect of Muhammadans.[113]Advice to her sister to enter habitually, without delay, upon the subject of religion with Indians.[114]Miss Swainson.[115]A young Indian Convert in England.[116]Country people.[117]This is a mistake. She was thirty-one.[118]A very untruthful woman.[119]The father of Mrs. St. George Tucker.[120]Dr. H. M. Clark.[121]Bishop Matthews.[122]Pedlar.[123]So named by the Natives.[124]Not the same as spoken of in earlier part of this letter.[125]More strictly, about one-twelfth of a penny.[126]Miss Tucker had become by this time less strict in her earlier rule of never walking in the city.[127]Meaning, ‘Door closed against you.’[128]Old woman.[129]True.[130]i.e.Down in the Plains.[131]It is not clear which of her severe illnesses is here referred to.[132]The Rev. Nobin Chanda Das, for years Native Pastor at Batala, and Head-master of the Mission ‘Plough’ School.[133]Formerly ‘The Plough.’[134]Narowal, the Station of the Rev. R. Bateman.[135]The Giant-Killer, by A. L. O. E.[136]Deprecating; meaning something sad, something to be repented of.[137]The sentence as to her tenth birthday, quoted page 13, comes in here.[138]Mr. Bateman.[139]Chiefs.[140]Later, an adopted Nephew; see pp. 498-9.[141]This was a mistake. Mrs. Hamilton passed away on October 14; but the telegram was not sent for several days, to permit certain letters to arrive first. Miss Tucker failed to allow for this fact.[142]Missionary.[143]At Amritsar.

[1]It was a custom in the family, through several generations, to give a Christmas present to each child ofnew silver, the amount given being one shilling for each year of age, and sixpence in addition. Thus, a child of ten would receive ten and sixpence, all in new silver.

[2]One of a band of robbers.

[3]Chief police-officer.

[4]At the Official East India Company’s dinner, given by the Directors; ladies being admitted to a gallery as spectators.

[5]A pet name for her sister.

[6]Two Noble Lives, vol. ii. p. 220.

[7]Mr. Tucker. He was never knighted.

[8]Prince and Princess of Wales.

[9]Of the Marylebone Workhouse.

[10]Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s sister Laura.

[11]Mr. Henry Carre Tucker.

[12]The lady’s-maid.

[13]Otho’s youngest brother, who died an infant.

[14]A tiny Memorial of Letitia, containing some of her verses.

[15]The two chief interests of Otho Hamilton in his short life were—Natural History, and Missions among the Heathen. This is doubtless in reference to the latter.

[16]Marriage of Miss Bella Frances Tucker to her cousin, the Rev. James Boswell.

[17]Mr. St. George Tucker retired this year (1869) from the Indian Civil Service; and his sister Fanny was at this time paying along visit to him and his wife.

[18]Daughter of A. L. O. E.’s brother, Mr. William Tucker.

[19]Father and Mother of Mrs. St. G. Tucker.

[20]As a curious instance of differing views, another relative, who perhaps had had even better opportunities for judging, says: ‘Notsympathizing; most kind, but could not place herself in the position of another.’

[21]One of the Zenana Missionaries at Amritsar.

[22]Doubtless covered with snow.

[23]In a letter of Mrs. H. B. Stowe is the following passage, referring to Niagara:—‘I felt as if I could have gone over with the waters: it would be so beautiful a death: there would be no fear in it.’—Life of H. B. Stowe, p. 75, pub. 1889.

[24]Missionary Ladies.

[25]Show.

[26]Honorary mode of address.

[27]Pronouncedpurdah.

[28]PronouncedPunjāb.

[29]PronouncedUmritsar.

[30]Her travelling companion from Bombay.

[31]Considerable allowance here and elsewhere must be made for Miss Tucker’s habit of seeing things as far as possiblecouleur-de-rose. Large rooms in the Indian climate are, moreover, not a mere luxury, but a necessity for health.

[32]Teacher.

[33]Pronouncedchuddars.

[34]The Rev. Robert Clark.

[35]Mrs. Elmslie.

[36]Teacher.

[37]Sometimes she would take a week or ten days additional at some other season in the year.

[38]Many Missionaries live upon less than £155. See next page.

[39]A pet name for Mrs. Elmslie.

[40]Often spelt by English writersdoli,dooli, ordhooli. Pronounced,dooly.

[41]A learned Hindu. Pronounced,pundit.

[42]Adopted nephew, the Rev. Rowland Bateman.

[43]Miss Wauton.

[44]Watchman.

[45]Padri Sadiq, Native Clergyman.

[46]German Missionary at Amritsar.

[47]Native bedstead.

[48]Tailor.

[49]Queen.

[50]Carrying things with a high hand.

[51]Miss Swainson.

[52]Mrs. Elmslie and Miss Wauton were away for a few weeks in the Hills with Miss Swainson.

[53]This was an early stage.Nowthe learned Pandit, K. S., is an Ordained Clergyman.

[54]‘My brother.’

[55]Meaning ‘bud of a pomegranate.’

[56]A clockwork toy.

[57]Connected with the Government.

[58]Rough roads, unmade roads.

[59]Duli-carrier.

[60]Idle.

[61]Flat cakes of bread.

[62]Native song, or hymn set to Native tune.

[63]Divinities.

[64]A kind of post-chaise.

[65]Bananas.

[66]This, unhappily, proved later to be a mistaken estimate.

[67]The Catechist.

[68]The Rev. Rowland Bateman, just recovered from severe illness.

[69]Cream-coloured dress worn at a Conference.

[70]Precipice or ravine.

[71]Founder of the Sikh religion.

[72]Miss Tucker in this letter ascribes the said change to the work of others; but there can be no doubt that her own influence had largely contributed to bring it about.

[73]Mrs. Elmslie was going home on furlough.

[74]Mr. Bateman, Mr. Wade, Mr. Weitbrecht, Mr. Baring....

[75]Adopted son of the Rev. Robert Clark; afterwards known as Dr. H. M. Clark....

[76]Lentils.

[77]Bishop French.

[78]‘My Nephew’; term constantly used by A. L. O. E. for Mr. Baring.

[79]President of the Zenana Society.

[80]Grove of mango trees.

[81]Not always perfect security. Instances have occurred, though seldom, of Missionaries themselves being attacked and roughly handled on such occasions.

[82]PronouncedGrunt.

[83]Teacher.

[84]Bibi Singha.

[85]Muhammadan teachers.

[86]Notallactually Batala converts; some having come from Amritsar, in connection with the school, etc.

[87]Threatened war with Afghanistan.

[88]Though I speak in the past tense, the same terms apply to the present.

[89]Cotton mats.

[90]Early breakfast.

[91]Idle.

[92]Hats.

[93]Marylebone.

[94]Native Bible-woman.

[95]Custom.

[96]The Bishop of Calcutta and the Bishop of Lahore.

[97]Mrs. Hamilton’s house.

[98]Native official.

[99]Very low caste.

[100]Water-carrier.

[101]Watchman.

[102]Washerman.

[103]One of the boys.

[104]This particular Faqir, Miss Tucker meant.

[105]Some Native ladies.

[106]Mrs. Hamilton’s gift.

[107]A Native clergyman.

[108]Sir Charles Aitcheson, the Lieutenant-Governor.

[109]Naughty ones.

[110]A young Native.

[111]A leading Salvationist.

[112]Sect of Muhammadans.

[113]Advice to her sister to enter habitually, without delay, upon the subject of religion with Indians.

[114]Miss Swainson.

[115]A young Indian Convert in England.

[116]Country people.

[117]This is a mistake. She was thirty-one.

[118]A very untruthful woman.

[119]The father of Mrs. St. George Tucker.

[120]Dr. H. M. Clark.

[121]Bishop Matthews.

[122]Pedlar.

[123]So named by the Natives.

[124]Not the same as spoken of in earlier part of this letter.

[125]More strictly, about one-twelfth of a penny.

[126]Miss Tucker had become by this time less strict in her earlier rule of never walking in the city.

[127]Meaning, ‘Door closed against you.’

[128]Old woman.

[129]True.

[130]i.e.Down in the Plains.

[131]It is not clear which of her severe illnesses is here referred to.

[132]The Rev. Nobin Chanda Das, for years Native Pastor at Batala, and Head-master of the Mission ‘Plough’ School.

[133]Formerly ‘The Plough.’

[134]Narowal, the Station of the Rev. R. Bateman.

[135]The Giant-Killer, by A. L. O. E.

[136]Deprecating; meaning something sad, something to be repented of.

[137]The sentence as to her tenth birthday, quoted page 13, comes in here.

[138]Mr. Bateman.

[139]Chiefs.

[140]Later, an adopted Nephew; see pp. 498-9.

[141]This was a mistake. Mrs. Hamilton passed away on October 14; but the telegram was not sent for several days, to permit certain letters to arrive first. Miss Tucker failed to allow for this fact.

[142]Missionary.

[143]At Amritsar.

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