Chapter XIX: Last Year's Work in Kashmir

Dr. and Mrs. Elmslie left Edinburgh for India on the 5th March. In London they met loving friends and relatives, with whom they had sweet communion. They went aboard the _Massilia_ on the 7th, and that morning Mrs. Elmslie, on turning to her book of daily texts, got a verse to which subsequent events gave a touching significance, and which was not without impressiveness even at the time,–"_Thy_ MAKER _is thine husband_."

The passage, on the whole, was good. Writing to his mother-in-law, Dr. Elmslie says:–

"_Bombay, 6th April._–Have at last got to the end of our voyage. On looking back, have much cause to be very thankful to God for the mercies that have attended it. God permitted us both to do something for Himself. We found Dr. Bonar's kind and valuable gift of books of great service. Both M. and I found our powers of playing chess of use in helping us to get to know some of our fellow-passengers. Since I began this sentence, I have been to the city with a missionary friend, and have seen to-day what I never had seen before. If you were to try to guess, I don't believe you would succeed in telling me what I have seen. It was nothing more or less than an hospital–not for human beings, but for the lower animals! The invalids were a porcupine, deer, monkeys, goats, sheep, dogs, horses, cows, and oxen. I saw some of the sick kine taking their medicine. It is supported by a wealthy native merchant."

They got a cordial welcome back to India. "You will not fail," writes the Rev. E. Stuart, "to convey this, my hand-o'-write, welcome to your dear wife,–a real hearty Scotch grip of friendship. I rejoice to hear of your so wisely _doubling_ your usefulness." "We had the pleasure," says Mr. Clark, "of welcoming Dr. Elmslie and his bride from England. His step was even then (April) less elastic than usual, but his warm affections were the same."

The following items of intelligence are culled from various letters from Dr. and Mrs. Elmslie, addressed to relatives and others during their Indian campaign. Here is a glimpse of our friends, _en route_:–

"Marching orders were–up at half-past four, breakfast at a quarter past five, off at twenty minutes from six; servants on before to have regular breakfast ready half way. I reach first, being carried in a dandy, spread the carpet and table-cloth in a pleasant place, sometimes under pomegranate and rose trees, sometimes by a waterfall. Then come the weary walkers, and don't we make a hearty breakfast. The rest of the way is the fatiguing part, as the sun is up, and the climbing and rough walking are trying. We reach the next stage about half-past eleven, have tea as soon as water can be got, then rest, write, or read till dinner at five; after which the doctor gathers the servants together, and the sick who have come for advice. It makes a picturesque group–about forty natives, all seated on the grass, the old catechist arranging things, the native medical assistant and his wife, with the large khitta, full of medicines, and Mr. Wade in white costume, leaning forward in his arm-chair, reading and speaking with the people, who always answer him, sometimes with arguments, which he shows great tact in meeting, while the doctor prescribes. He has met with some interesting cases; one poor sufferer is to follow us to Srinagar, as he requires a serious operation. It was touching to see his old father weeping over him. One woman, with fever, was brought on the back of her husband. The twilight is short; and, after the sick people leave, we have a little chat, then prayers, and off to bed.

"I confess I was rather horrified with the first specimen of a Cashmere bungalow–nothing better than a large mud hut, unfurnished, and hardly plastered, and the floors so dirty that you felt ashamed of your boots after once crossing a floor. The people are much finer looking, and have more open countenances, than the Hindoos; but it is marvellous to me that such nice-looking men and women can wear such garments. They do not seem to know the use of soap and water–their blankets, which they wrap round them, are perfectly brown, and in many cases you cannot count their rags.

"When we reached the spot from which we had the Pisgah view of Kashmir–the _vale_ itself–I could but exclaim, 'Truly the half has not been told me.' It seemed to me a perfect paradise, which should know nothing but peace and plenty, purity and joy.

"After many difficulties we have at length got a house, which, though only a native one, is really very suitable, being quite among the people. We have, therefore, gladly and very thankfully left off tent life for the present. The house is entered from the river by a flight of steps, which brings you into a wide archway. Our garden is large, and full of the delicious ottar roses. They are pink, not very large, but very rich in perfume. I fancy they must refresh the patients very much, so I don't grudge their gathering some as they wander about during the waiting time. The doctor has real, earnest, hard work now. For the last fortnight the attendance has been daily increasing. To-day there were nearly 170 patients. It is quite too much, for many of the poor things require serious operations. The weather is very hot now, too hot to go out, except in early morning or evening. The poplar avenue is our favourite resort; it is quite near us, and very shady and quiet; for, strange to say, the river is more popular, and the visitors may be seen sailing up and down in their gondolas, just as they would drive in the London parks.

"We rise at six, and, after reading and prayer together, the doctor goes to work, prays with his assistant, arranges the waiting crowds of people, and leaves the catechist to address them, which he does very earnestly in Kashmiri for about a quarter of an hour. Then the doctor examines patients till breakfast at ten, after which he goes down again to his people. He has had to separate the men and women now, taking one set to-day, and the other to-morrow, and giving them medicines for two days, as they increased to an unmanageable number; but, even with that, he has nearly 90 women on an average, and double that number of men. The operations are trying, for he has the whole to do himself, and he is often quite exhausted when he comes upstairs again about one."

"Our work here, I am thankful and glad to say," writes Dr. Elmslie, "is now in full play. Yesterday 165 patients were present. Many of the cases were grave surgical ones, for the people have been waiting for me for two years. They are being plied, too, with the glorious Gospel of Christ. I have a dear native Christian with me as an assistant, who is deeply interested in his poor benighted countrymen, for he is a Kashmiri. Then my friend, the Rev. T. R. Wade, has been sent to the valley this year, to strengthen my hands. He, too, labours amongst the waiting patients all morning. So, as I said, we are earnestly, prayerfully, and hopefully at work. I am thankful to say that the native authorities seem less hostile than formerly. Not that they are friendly, and smile upon our work,–that we do not expect from heathens,–but, so far as I have been able to ascertain, they do not throw obstacles in the way of the sick coming to us. That is a great thing, and we are heartily thankful for it. God, too, has blessed us in our premises. Not that they are palatial, but they are conveniently situated near the city, so that no one is incommoded by our work. Dwelling-house, dispensary, operating theatre, servants' rooms, are all under one roof. The crowds of the sick meet outside in a garden, which we have, fortunately, to the back. In this fine weather there is matting below them, and above them a canvas covering." Mrs. Elmslie, writing at the close of the month's labours, says, "He has just had to-day his 1100th patient, and finished his 70th operation in a month."

"The weather having broken, rain fell in torrents, such as only mountain countries know. The river gradually rose higher and higher, till the bank disappeared; and, on the opposite side, fields were covered. When we went to church yesterday, the doctor was very much afraid our house would be surrounded in a few hours. The Baboo sent boats round to all the Europeans. You may believe we were not very happy at the thought of having to live on the waters, Noah-like, till the waters diminished, and this we quite expected to have to do to-day. The servants had to flit to the verandah, the kitchen, a hundred yards behind us, being surrounded. To our great joy and thankfulness (this morning), we found the sky clear, the sun shining, and the waters abating; thus our fears have been disappointed.

"_August 12th._–We had given up thinking of floods, and only yesterday the doctor said to me how very thankful he felt for this blessing; however, here we are to-day, not very unlike Noah. This flood is caused by the melting of snow in the mountains, where there was a fresh fall last week; and it must have burst the embankment lower down, for the whole of the large orchard, where our house and all the European's houses are, is flooded. The kitchen is several inches deep in water, so that Fakira, his pots and pans, have had to take refuge in Mr. Wade's verandah. How he means to convey dinner across the intervening waters I know not, but he always manages well for himself,–specially when he knows he has made a mistake. I suppose he prefers risking the dinner, and being at a little distance from Nana Sahib's eyes and ears, otherwise our own verandahs would have been more suitable. Three boats are in readiness to carry us off somewhere, but, as yet, I don't know where. I have packed my boxes, and now am waiting till the doctor returns from the dispensary. There is a great deal of sickness in the city. The doctor is keeping decidedly better, but he is still far from strong. The house is now quite surrounded; all looks calm and bright; but the great river comes rolling on. I am a little concerned as to the fate of our dinner, as there is now quite a lake between us and our factotum. The boatmen and women keep wading about as if enjoying it immensely. The doctor has just come back, and is greatly dismayed at the state of things. He sailed through the orchard right up to the back door. We are thinking of going to the gardens, as the Baboo has got written permission for us from the Rajah to occupy one of the palaces. Dinner has come off very well, considering that it had to travel through the waters.

"_August 16th._–Notwithstanding the unceremonious way in which we were turned out of our house, we are enjoying our place of refuge exceedingly; and no wonder, when you think it was made according to Kashmiri ideas of Paradise. Some traditions of Bible history, lingering among them still, having suggested it to a king who lived, I believe, about the time of our second Charles. There are two pleasure houses or pavilions on the gardens, one close to the lake, the other high up on a terrace of the mountain, and almost hidden in the rich foliage of the chinar trees. We chose the latter, as we have learned to seek shade in this sunny land. The way to it lies through orchards of pears, quinces, peaches, &c., on one hand, and beautiful mown lawns on the other, in the middle of which is an artificial bed of a stream. The trees by the side of it are the grandest I ever saw. Some of their trunks have been hollowed out, and inside three people can stand quite easily. After mounting by terraces, you reach the pavilion, where we are to be found, looking very small in our crimson covered chairs, in comparison to the lofty place in which we are. It is an open hall, 60 feet in breadth, by 40 in length, and the brilliantly covered roof is supported by sixteen pillars. On either side are large rooms; one wing occupied by Mr. Wade, the other by us, while the pavilion itself is our dining and sitting room. I am afraid you can hardly appreciate, in a Scotch autumn, the luxury which we are enjoying so much. The same stream of water which I mentioned before runs through the middle of the hall. The mountain stream is caught, and caused to rush down a fretted iron causeway into the prepared bed (about 6 feet wide), and in it are innumerable fountains. I count twenty-two between us and the zenana, which (I am ashamed to say) we use as a kitchen. It flows through our hall, casting spray all around, sparkling in the sunshine, and then gushes down another causeway, about 60 feet, into an immense pond, in which there are also many fountains, and so on, feeding many of these jets, till it has descended all the terraces, and mingled its waters with those of the beautiful lake. This stream had been turned off by the villagers to water their rice fields; but on our arrival the gardener brought it back, and caused all the fountains to play. The sound of its sweet murmur is very charming, and the sight of the jets, each in some different form, is delightful. The trees have grown too luxuriantly, and hide the lovely vistas of snowy mountains and of the lake, but we see enough to be full of admiration. We went up the mountain side this evening, and sat down under the shade of a vine-tree, laden with grapes, and watched the glorious setting sun.

"_August 19th._–Here we are in our own little house once more. We came in to church on Sabbath. We think it so good of him to persevere when he (Mr. W.) has had so little encouragement. There were only six present. It is very sad to find how little people attend to Christian duties here.

"_September._–I have been finding out how very few real Christians there are in India, and how very little even of outward regard for religion, and this makes me feel very warmly to all who really are God's people. We went to church yesterday, and hoped for an average congregation, as sixty Europeans were said to be in Srinagar. Mr. Wade had prepared an address on Medical Missions, and meant to ask for a collection on their behalf, but none were there but ourselves. After the service was begun, one gentleman made his appearance. We often long much for a Sunday at home. However, Spurgeon preaches to us very well. Cholera has been raging in Srinagar, but it is nearly gone now, and the visitors are beginning to return from Gulmarg. We had a pic-nic to the Shalimar Gardens last week, taking all the medical assistants and pupils, &c. with us. They appeared to enjoy themselves very much. The climate here is liker that at home now. Kashmir is becoming very dear to me now. I should like to remain here as long as there is work for me to do. Plenty of work there certainly is. It is an untilled field, but the Holy Spirit will surely be granted to break up the fallow ground, and make the soil ready to receive the seed. Indeed, we are very hopeful that something has been effected, which time will reveal. Dear old Qadir the catechist has been very much cheered by the number of inquirers this summer. If we are allowed to remain here many will come forward, but the fear of persecution _without us_ keeps many back."

"I suppose," writes the doctor to Mr. Duncan, "dearest M. will have told you that our Committee in Calcutta have presented a petition to the Governor-General, begging of him to grant us permission to remain in Kashmir during the winter months. If this petition is granted, in all probability the good work will more rapidly prosper. Will you pray that all may be ordered of God for the best? As for myself, I have not been at all strong this summer. The truth is that my work has been overwhelming. Indeed, the people have been waiting for me for two years to perform many operations. Medical mission work at home is very different from medical mission work abroad. Here in India you have to be a Begbie, Spence, and Walker all in one, while at home you merely nibble at medical and surgical work. That makes a great difference."

Of later date. "I am now nearly myself again, thanks to God's blessing on my dearest M.'s tender and judicious nursing. She has been the best of nurses, just as if she had been under Miss Nightingale for years.

"An answer has come to a telegram which I sent to Simla, where the Governor-General now is. The answer is to the effect that 'Dr. Elmslie is not allowed to remain this winter in Srinagar.' Now, both M. and I say truly, 'The will of the Lord be done,' but we mourn over this oppressed and perishing country. It would have been for its good that we had been allowed to remain, although it is doubtful if it would have been for our comfort and happiness, for we should have been without European society of any kind, and that would have made it very lonely for us for two or three months. But we were heartily prepared to forego the pleasures of society for the sake of this poor country and its oppressed people. However, so far as we are concerned, the Lord has willed it otherwise. We leave this matter in the Lord's hands. He will work when His time comes. We shall probably be commanded to leave the valley in a few days. This has been a season of very hard work, but the Lord has graciously brought us in safety to its close. Since we began work in the dispensary at Srinagar in the end of May last, over 3000 patients, suffering from all manner of diseases, have received medical and surgical treatment gratuitously. Over 200 of these patients have been operated on for surgical maladies, and besides all these cases 382 cholera patients were treated at their own homes by the agents of the Kashmir Medical Mission.

"This merely gives the professional part of the season's work. I have not been at all well since our arrival in Kashmir. This has been caused by the severe nature of the work, and the close application to it throughout the season, and I am almost sure I shall begin to recruit as soon as we begin our tent life."