CRIMEA, AND THE INDIAN MUTINY
In the year 1854 Mr. St. George Tucker again came home from India; and in the autumn he took his Mother and sisters for three months to The Mote1, an old country house about six miles north of Tonbridge, hoping that the change would do good to Mrs. Tucker’s health and spirits. Those were the terrible days of the Crimean War; and in that autumn the battles of Balaclava and Inkerman were fought. Several letters of interest belong to about this period.
TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER. 1853.
‘I have found out a much better hero for you than your friend Lord Marmion,—who, by-the-bye, had he lived in these days, would have run a great chance of being transported for fourteen years, or imprisoned2 for one with hard labour, for forgery3. Mere4 courage does not make a hero.... When I was about as old as you are now, I had—besides Montrose, for whom I have a great regard still—a great hero, a pirate! About as respectable a man perhaps as Lord Marmion, and I was so fond of him, that I remember jumping out of bed one night, when one of my sisters laughed at him.
‘But I have grown older, dear, and have seen so many bubbles break in my time that I am more on my guard. I look for something more solid now. If you are allowed to read Uncle Tom’s Cabin, or any part of it, pause when you have done, and compare the old negro with Lord Marmion. You laugh at the idea. What!—“the falcon5 crest6 and morion,”—“the scar on his dark brow”—will not all this[101] throw the poor ignorant thick-lipped hero quite into the shade? Yes,—if a sparkling bubble is more glorious than a diamond shut up in a black case. Time touches the bubble, and it breaks,—I have given up my pirate-hero,—but the diamond—never mind the black case! “Uncle Tom” is a hero, and one worthy7 of the name.’
TO MRS HAMILTON—(LAURA).
‘The Mote, Sept. 1, 1854.
‘Your and your dear husband’s nice sunshiny notes reached me this morning.... I believe that you are wise not to come here, for the roads are very bad, and the climate not very bracing8. Sweet Mother says that it suits her very well, and I thrive on it like anything, but not every one might be the better for “water, water everywhere.” We have four pieces of water close by us, besides the moat just under our windows. The Mote nestles so curiously9 in a hollow of the hill, that when you have walked a few hundred yards from it, and naturally turn round to look at the noble mansion10 which you have left,—it is actually non inventus. You would not know that you were near the Mote at all. “What has become of our great house?” say you. It has vanished like Aladdin’s fairy palace.
‘I feel sure that this is the identical old place that Mrs. D’Oyly took us to see, where they said that some of the rooms had not been opened for one hundred years. This suits me exactly. As the boys say, “I am in clover.” Damp hurts me no more than if I were a water-wagtail; but the same might not be the case with you....
‘What a good thing it has been for your little darling being at so healthy a place during the trying time of teething. I shall expect to see her still more improved, when I have the pleasure of kissing her sweet lips again. How diverting it will be to watch her when she first runs alone!...
‘Such nice letters from India! Dear Henry is having my Tales translated into Hindustani, for the poor natives. Oh, pray, my Laura, that a blessing11 may go with them. Dear Robin12 preaches to upwards13 of a hundred blind, and bears the hot weather wonderfully well.’
TO THE SAME.
‘The Mote, Sept. 12, 1854.
‘Many thanks for your welcome letter, your good news, and your kind invitation. I should not wonder if the last were very thankfully[102] accepted some time next month; for it is quite uncertain whether the L——s will let us remain here beyond the six weeks, and almost quite certain that No. 3 will not be ready for us then, in which case we had better scatter14. The boys indeed talk of standing15 a siege here, rather than give the place up; but you see we are afraid of treachery in the camp, having so many of the L——‘s servants. Then we might have difficulty about provisions, for we should all grow desperately16 thin upon the fish which Charlie catches. Besides which, the moat might be waded17, although it is a doubtful point whether the wader could get on through the weeds and mud. I think, all things considered, that we had better not stand a siege.
‘My heart can quite re-echo the cheerful tone of your note, love. I do indeed feel that we are loaded with blessings18. I enjoy this place exceedingly, it is so pretty; just the place to “moon” about in. Don’t you remember Mrs. D’Oyly taking us to see it, when we drove here in two carriages, and you were with the sprightly19, and I with the sedate20 party? I feel sure that this was the identical old house. My room ought to be haunted, only it is not. It is such a pity that you have not the fairy carpet to come here without fatigue21. But, as it is, you serve as a magnet, to help to draw me back to Middlesex without regret.
‘Kind love to dear Mr. Hamilton, and twenty kisses to the Princess of babies. I can well imagine the pleasure that she is to you—a large lump of sugar in your cup!’
TO MISS BELLA F. TUCKER.
‘Dec. 12, 1854.
‘We went to St. James’ Park to-day, to see Her Majesty22 on her way to open Parliament. I had an excellent view of our poor dear Queen; and the sight of her mournful subdued23 countenance24, as she bowed graciously to her people, but without the shadow of a smile, quite touched my heart. This war weighs very heavily upon her; and I am anxious to know whether she was able to get through her speech without breaking down altogether. She looked to-day as though it would have taken less to make her weep than laugh.
‘How England is exerting herself to send comforts to her brave sons in the Crimea! A lady was here to-day who, having seen that books were thought desirable presents to the Army, made up a box of them, which was to go to a Mr. S. who had offered to receive them. But when her intended gift was known,—“O pray do not send any more books!” was the poor receiver’s cry. “We have seventy[103] thousand volumes!” and they did not know how such a tremendous library was to be forwarded. In the lint25 department, parcels came in at the rate of two hundred a day! Good-bye.’
TO THE SAME.
‘Jan. 13, 1855.
‘It is singular in how many ways last year I seemed to be taught a lesson of patience. I was disappointed over and over and over again. In one matter in which I was greatly interested, I was so at least five times; but before the close of the year I had cause to say with much pleasure,—“I am glad that I was disappointed.” Another time I had a very heavy heart from a different source of disappointment; and some months later I was grieved, even, I am half ashamed to say, to tears; and yet before December was out I was actually glad of both these disappointments, as well as the five others; and a good appeared to spring from the evil. Now, if I am inclined to be impatient,—and very impatient I am by nature,—I try to remember my experience, and really to get the valuable lesson by heart. I think it a good plan at the end of a year to review the whole, to try and find out what especial lesson has been set one to learn in it. I found it to be praise one year; last year patience. I know not what it will be this year. I hope that—but no, I will not write what I intended. Whatever is, is best. We have not to choose our tasks, but to learn them.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘June 15, 1855.
‘What news have I to give you? We have had a nice note from dear Henry to-day, saying nothing about health, except that Robin is well. St. G. and I have just come from a loiter at the Botanical Gardens, which showed us that we need be under no great concern, were hemp26 and flax exterminated27 from the vegetable world, and silkworms to leave off being spinsters, as we could dress cheaply and well on plantain fibre, have capital paper and excellent ropes, etc.’
In the August of 1855 she had the pleasure of going with her brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, to the great French Exhibition at Paris. This was the celebrated28 occasion of the Queen’s visit to Napoleon, after the close of the Crimean War; and Paris was thronged29. So[104] full was the place that rooms in Paris itself were not to be had, and they went to an hotel in Versailles, occupying apartments which had once been occupied by Louis Napoleon. Charlotte’s warlike enthusiasm showed itself in the fact that she was willing to pay twenty-five francs apiece for seats at the Champs de Mars, where they might witness the review of 45,000 French troops. When Her Majesty had quitted Paris, it became possible to obtain rooms at the H?tel Bristol.
From Versailles she wrote to Mrs. Hamilton, on the 21st of August:—
‘Dearest Wifey,[5]—You wished for a letter from France, so here is one; but if you expect a description of what I have seen, I really cannot undertake to give you even a précis. Paris surpasses my expectations. All in its gala dress as it is now, swarming30 with people, crowded with soldiers, gay with fluttering flags and triumphal arches,—it is really a sight in itself. The grand Exposition of pictures is splendid; it is only too large. I was amused at it by a lady coming up to me, and politely requesting me to inform her who Ophelia was. An old French lady, looking at a picture of the burial of Harold, and, I suppose, feeling that the subject might be painful to me as a Saxon, politely assured me of her regret at that monarch31’s death! “Let bygones be bygones,” say I.
‘Most of the French foot-soldiers are very little fellows, compared to some of our troops; but amongst the Cavalry32 are very fine tall men. The Zouaves are very heathenish-looking warriors33. They dress something like Turks, with all about their throats so perfectly34 bare that they quite invite you to cut their heads off.
‘St. G. and I so enjoyed this exquisite35 evening in the stately gardens! A fine military band was performing, the people were happily listening, little children skipping about, the glorious sunset tints36 illuminating37 a palace fit for the “grand Monarch.”
‘We have seen our Sovereign Lady three times, which was being in great luck. I am rather tired of writing, so will only add kindest love, and beg you to believe me your ever attached,
C. M. Tucker.
‘P.S.—I told a fat funny little French baba to-day that I had a niece younger than herself, and asked her if she would not like to see her. The answer was unsatisfactory.’
[105]
The Crimean War was ended; and two years later came the outbreak of the Indian Mutiny, with its awful carnage, its heaps of slain38, its tortured women and children, its heroic determination, its dauntless courage. Then was seen a Continent, lost apparently39 in one day, won back to the British Crown by mere handfuls of indomitable men facing armed myriads40. Such a tale had never been told before.
If Charlotte’s patriotism41 had been stirred by the Crimean struggle, this came nearer to her yet! She had five brothers, all in India, all more or less in daily peril42. Mr. Henry Carre Tucker was Commissioner43 at Benares; Mr. St. George Tucker was at Mirzapore; Mr. William Tucker was in a less acutely unsafe position; Mr. Charlton Tucker, after seeing his Colonel shot down, was for weeks in hiding. All these escaped. But her early companion, Robert,—the father of her ‘Robins,’—was among the slain; and the three children, already long half-orphaned44, became now wholly orphaned.
Robert Tucker’s remarkable45 powers, and his successes at Haileybury, have been earlier spoken about. Naturally of a serious and stern disposition46, though not without lighter47 traits, he had been a good deal saddened by troubles, which no doubt resulted in the more complete dedication48 of himself and all that he possessed49 to the Service of his Divine Master. A short sketch50 of his life, written by his sister Charlotte, and published by the S.P.C.K., tells of his work at Futteypore, where for many years he was Judge.
About four years before the Mutiny he had written home about the ‘extraordinary success’ which was attending his Christian51 school, established and kept going by himself. On Sundays he was in the habit of regularly addressing a collected crowd of Natives; literally52 ‘the poor, the maimed, the halt, the blind’; and he did not[106] teach them only, but also ministered liberally to their bodily needs.
In her little sketch Charlotte says of him,—‘Careless of his own comfort, restricting his personal expenses to a very narrow compass, he gave to the Missionary53 cause at the rate of forty pounds monthly, and one year even more’; adding that with ‘shrinking from ostentation’ he had never given his name on these occasions. And again—‘It was his deep and abiding54 sense of the debt which he owed to his Saviour55, which made the Judge devote not only his substance but his heart and his soul to the Lord. How deep was the gratitude56 which he expressed in these words—“If every hair upon my head were a life, it would be too little to sacrifice to the Lord Jesus Christ!”’
A clue to many things in Charlotte’s own later life may be perhaps found here. There can be no doubt that the story of her brother’s self-denying life and tragical57 death made a profound impression upon her mind. His example, long after, was closely copied by this sister, when she too ‘restricted her personal expenses to a very narrow compass,’ precisely58 as he had done, and with the same object, that she might have the more to give away. Also his energy in teaching was reflected by her own burning desire, in old age, to speak on all occasions to the Natives of their deepest needs, and never to miss an opportunity of trying to lead some poor Hindu or Muhammadan to Christ, always with the vivid sense upon her, when she met man or woman, that the call to herself might come before they could meet again, and so a second opportunity might never recur59. Another eighteen years had, however, yet to elapse before she would go out to India, to follow in his steps, and to render to Hindustan a loving return for this ‘year of horrors.’
In June 1857, like a thunder-clap, not indeed utterly60 unforeseen but practically unexpected by the majority of[107] Englishmen, came the fearful outbreak; and for a while it did really almost seem that the British Raj in India was at an end. But those who thought so were soon to be undeceived.
When first the storm broke, Robert Tucker did not expect to be himself one of its earlier victims. His brother, Mr. St. George Tucker, says,—‘Robert was in high spirits when the Mutiny broke out. He wrote to me that he had seen a magnificent horse, and that if he could buy him, he could ride from Futteypore to Delhi, and soon finish the war. Robert was the Judge, and Sherer was the Magistrate61. Sherer decided62 that all the Europeans must leave Futteypore and fly to Banda. Robert refused to leave Futteypore, and said that his duty required him to protect the Natives. The rest of the Europeans went off to Banda.’
Many Native Christians63 fled also,—among others a Native Catechist, Gopi Nath. He was taken by Muhammadans, imprisoned and cruelly treated; and he it was whose sinking courage was revived by the almost dying words of the English boy-officer, Arthur Cheek, the ‘Martyr of Allahabad.’
But with the spirit of a soldier, Robert Tucker, the intrepid64 Judge of Futteypore, remained at his post, the only European among countless65 Natives, bent66 still on doing his duty.
The night preceding the tenth of June he passed at his Cutcherry or Office; and in the early morning news was brought that his own house had been set on fire. He then tried to collect some of the landholders, to protect the Natives in the town, and their houses; but not all his efforts could prevent the burning of the latter. His next step was to ride off to the Jail, in the hope of securing the prisoners; but he was too late, the prisoners having been already set at liberty. Mr. Tucker fearlessly reprimanded the Jail-Guard; whereupon the Guard, belonging to a bad[108] Cawnpore regiment68, opened fire. Though every shot missed, Mr. Tucker must then have seen that all was up. Everything was in confusion; the Native officers would not support him; and he stood absolutely alone.
He rode to the Cutcherry, no man daring to intercept69 him, and took up his position on the top; and for hours he remained, fearless and calm, awaiting his death. The day was intensely hot, causing him to suffer terribly from thirst; and one of his horsekeepers at length brought him some milk,—a deed of mercy, which shows that one man at least was not devoid70 of gratitude.
‘There he remained during that fearful day,’ wrote Charlotte Tucker. ‘There, as evening was closing in, he made his last lion-like stand, when the fanatic71 Musselmans, bearing a green flag, the emblem72 of their faith, came in a fierce crowd to attack him.’ How many he shot as they advanced is not certain; some say twenty, or even thirty; but at length one of his assailants shot him in the head, and the moment he fell, they took courage to rush up the stairs and to finish their work.
For Robert Tucker himself, cut off though he was in the very prime of life, there could be no regrets, except on the score of all that he might have done, had he lived. No man could be more ready than he was to go. But the blow fell heavily on those who loved him; and though for nine years he had not seen his children, whereby the sorrow to them was softened73, yet the loss to their future could not but be great.
‘So he fell,’ wrote one who had escaped; ‘and in his fall the constant and fervent74 prayer of his latter days was answered, for he fell at the post of duty. All who knew him well mourn in him the loss of a true and noble friend, generous even to prodigality75, highly talented, a thorough gentleman, and an upright judge.’
Mention of this event was made at the time in the[109] Journal Letter of Viscountess Canning,[6] worth quoting in addition to the above.
’ ... The story of Futteypore is a strange one. The whole country round was gone, and there was a large Sepoy guard in the treasury76, and every reason to believe they would rise, so all the Europeans took to boats, and went away to safe stations down the river, and I think to Banda. Only Mr. Tucker, the magistrate, would not stir, and remained with fifty Sepoys and the treasury. He was son to the late Director, Sir George Tucker,[7] and was one of the four brothers whose names we hear constantly, and he was as brave as a lion. He had a deputy-magistrate—a Mohammedan—in a high position, treated as a gentleman, and in as high a place as a native could occupy, next to himself. To this man had been given a body of mounted police, and he undertook to keep the country clear between the great trunk road and the river for some distance. He did it admirably, and took delight in it, and sent in detailed77 reports up to the last. But when he heard of some more places being gone, he suddenly returned to the treasury, to which his position gave him access, dismissed the fifty Sepoys with a thousand rupees apiece, and then attacked Mr. Tucker with all his police force. Mr. Tucker was killed, after defending himself till he had killed with his own hand, some say sixteen, some twenty men. I suppose he had a whole battery of revolvers, and so kept his assailants at bay.’
Though Robert was gone, other brothers of Charlotte Tucker were still in hourly danger; and the pressure of anxiety went on for months, as shown by letters of the time.
TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.
‘Sept. 9, 1857.
‘I need not say how I long for tidings from India. Most especially do I desire news of Havelock’s precious little army. Upon its success, humanly speaking, may hang the safety of all our beloved ones in India.’
TO MRS. HAMILTON.
‘Sept. 19, 1857.
‘We are longing67 for our letters, but I do not think we shall get them till Tuesday. Dearest Mother tries not to think more of India[110] than she can help, and has, I am glad to say, given up reading the papers, so we only give her the good part of the news verbally. I could not endure to be kept in the dark myself. I go every day to fetch the papers. I half live on them, and would far rather go without a meal than not see them.... We heard from poor dear Mrs. Thornhill to-day. She hopes that Henry and his wife are in Lucknow. Such a hope is not worth much, one would think.’
TO MISS B. F. TUCKER.
‘Sept. 21, 1857.
‘God be with our brave and beloved ones! My heart feels very low—worse than before the letters arrived. We hide from dear Grandmamma that Mirzapore is threatened. She only knows that the troops are there; not why they have been sent. N—— W—— has sent his dear wife and children to Calcutta. He feels so desolate78 without them, but takes the separation as a lesson from his Merciful Father to set his affections more on things above.... Does not your heart sicken for Lucknow?’
All through England hearts were ‘sickening for Lucknow,’ at this time. But the Cawnpore-like catastrophe79, dreaded80 for Lucknow, did not come. The rescuing party mercifully arrived in time. As months went by, the Mutiny was stamped out from end to end of India; and no second Tucker was added to the roll of England’s martyrs81 there.
Just before the outbreak Mr. Henry Carre Tucker seems to have requested that some copies of his sister’s books might be sent out to him for distribution: and an interesting letter was written by her on the subject to Messrs. Gall82 and Inglis.
‘July 17, 1857.
‘Sir,—I am glad to hear that the box is likely soon to be on its way to my dear brother. We have been in great anxiety on account of him and his family, as Benares, the station of which he is the head, with a population of 180,000, is one of the most wicked places in India, a “holy city,” a stronghold of fanaticism83. My brother has taken a bolder part in upholding Missions, and spreading religious literature, than almost any one else in the country; therefore, if Benares had[111] followed the example of Delhi, the terrible event might have been attributed to his excess of zeal84.
‘The Almighty85, to whom my brother attributes the glory, has hitherto watched over Benares in so marked a manner, that it remained quiet in the midst of disturbances86; and my young niece has bravely ridden through it by her father’s side, giving confidence to the timid by her fearlessness.... But a few lines in the telegraph, read aloud in Parliament, informs us that the troops in Benares had risen at last, and been driven out of the city with great loss. I await the next mail with intense anxiety. I have five brothers in India.’
It is interesting to know that Mr. Henry Carre Tucker devoted87 himself a year later to the task of helping88 forward in every possible way Missionary work in India, as a species of ‘Christian revenge’ for the death of Robert and the sufferings of his countrymen. He took a leading part in starting the ‘Christian Literature Society for India,’ and was for a while himself its Honorary Secretary.
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mote
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| n.微粒；斑点 | |
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imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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forgery
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| n.伪造的文件等，赝品，伪造（行为） | |
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mere
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falcon
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crest
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worthy
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bracing
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curiously
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mansion
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blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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robin
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upwards
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scatter
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standing
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desperately
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waded
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blessings
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sprightly
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sedate
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fatigue
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majesty
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subdued
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countenance
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lint
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hemp
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exterminated
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celebrated
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thronged
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swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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monarch
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cavalry
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warriors
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perfectly
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exquisite
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tints
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illuminating
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slain
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apparently
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myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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patriotism
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| n.爱国精神，爱国心，爱国主义 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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commissioner
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| n.（政府厅、局、处等部门）专员，长官，委员 | |
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orphaned
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| [计][修]孤立 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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dedication
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| n.奉献，献身，致力，题献，献辞 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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abiding
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| adj.永久的，持久的，不变的 | |
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saviour
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| n.拯救者，救星 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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tragical
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| adj. 悲剧的, 悲剧性的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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recur
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| vi.复发，重现，再发生 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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magistrate
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| n.地方行政官，地方法官，治安官 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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intrepid
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| adj.无畏的，刚毅的 | |
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countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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fanatic
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| n.狂热者，入迷者；adj.狂热入迷的 | |
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emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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fervent
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| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
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prodigality
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| n.浪费，挥霍 | |
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treasury
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| n.宝库；国库，金库；文库 | |
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detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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desolate
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| adj.荒凉的，荒芜的；孤独的，凄凉的；v.使荒芜，使孤寂 | |
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catastrophe
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| n.大灾难，大祸 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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gall
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| v.使烦恼，使焦躁，难堪；n.磨难 | |
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fanaticism
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| n.狂热，盲信 | |
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zeal
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| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
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almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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disturbances
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| n.骚乱( disturbance的名词复数 )；打扰；困扰；障碍 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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