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 away a 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 kept away 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:—