Brother John.
[p. 41.]
To show the horrible neglect, as far as medical attention was concerned, that existed in this Leper Asylum, I may mention that the patients were in charge of a native “compounder” (see Mr. Prinsep’s remark on [page 35]). Although Bridget, the old Irishwoman, was regarded by the officials of the Asylum as a leper, my husband and I doubted the accuracy of their judgment in this case; for it seemed impossible that she could be in such fair health, as she was, had she been thus afflicted for a dozen or more years, as they asserted. Her features were as regular and clean cut, as they would be in any woman of her age; and were free, as far as we could see, from any tubercles or nodules peculiar to leprosy, especially when it is of long standing. There was no distortion of her fingers or toes (she generally went about barefoot), and there was no staining of the skin of the uncovered parts of her body. Her feet and lower parts of her legs were somewhat swollen, which condition might very easily have been induced by debility brought on by the insufficiency of the food she was allowed, by the effects of the enervating climate, by want of proper exercise, and by age. She suffered from no leprous pains, the acuteness of her senses were in no way diminished, and she was affected with no special lassitude. The only symptom which in her was at all diagnostic (if I may be pardoned for using a medical term which exactly conveys my meaning) of leprosy was a feeling of numbness which she had. My husband, who is a Fellow of the Royal College of Veterinary Surgeons, and who has studied the nature of disease both in the lower animals and in man, tells me that this feeling of numbness is not peculiar to leprosy, but that it might have arisen, in Bridget, from another and not very dissimilar disease, which Bridget, according to the Leper Asylum officials, had contracted many years ago. I may also mention that this poor Irishwoman was entirely free from the peculiar odour which Dr. MacLaren (than whom there is no more experienced authority) regards (see [page 116]) as diagnostic of leprosy. Besides, Mrs. Grant, who had taken an interest in Bridget for many years, told us that Dr. Kenneth Stewart, who was formerly in practice in Calcutta, and who had examined Bridget, had told her that the Irishwoman was not a leper. As we had only the unprofessional opinion of the Asylum people against our contention, and as we thought it horrible that on such slight evidence this poor creature should be stowed away in a native leper asylum, we applied and received permission to have her examined by Dr. Crombie, superintendent of the Calcutta General Hospital. This was done, and Dr. Crombie gave it his opinion that she was a leper, because of the numbness or anæsthesia (see [page 116]) from which she suffered.
CHAPTER VI.
MISS O’BRIEN—AMATEUR ACTORS—A PERFORMANCE IN AID OF OUR FUND.
All this time I was doing little or nothing for the male lepers. My monthly subscriptions were not sufficient to allow of my extending any gifts to them, much as I should have liked to have done so. Brother John undertook to provide them with tobacco, but he could do no more; for his salary amounted to but Rs. 50 (about £3 10s.) a month, out of which he had to keep himself and to feed many hungry sailors who found their way to his rooms. The native women, too, in the other wards were asking me to bring them fruit. Feeling myself cramped from want of funds, I took counsel with a dear friend of mine, Miss O’Brien, who lived opposite our house, and who had assisted me in many ways with my work. She was the eldest of a large family, who were left almost penniless on the death of their father. Instead of asking alms of friends and acquaintances, she opened a school for young children, and by dint of hard and constant work, managed to support and assist the whole family until they were able to work for themselves. Another sister is the possessor of a fine soprano voice, which was trained in England by Signor Visetti. She is now one of the most popular singing-mistresses in Calcutta, and is able to assist her elder sister in keeping their old mother in comfort. These two admirable girls became greatly interested in my work among the lepers. The elder one read my articles to the school children. Over a hundred scholars were told of Bella and Daisy in the Leper Asylum. They raised a subscription among themselves, and sent me various small sums from time to time. The school-mistress, being cleverer than I am at book-keeping, took charge of my subscription-book and fund-money, giving me what I required every week for the lepers. She would have liked to have accompanied me on one of my visits to the asylum, but her mother forbad her doing so, which, considering her position as head of a large school, was perhaps wise. Finding our Leper Fund getting low, and myself unable to do anything for the male lepers, my friends and I put our heads together one Sunday afternoon, and wrote out an appeal for more money, which we had printed and distributed round Calcutta. We also thought out a programme for an entertainment to be given in aid of the Leper Fund, to which we would all contribute help. I suggested that a lady pianiste should play a solo, my friend should sing something, we would ask a couple of gentlemen friends to sing also, the school children could wind up the first part with the pretty Highland schottische they had danced in the theatre on their last prize distribution day, and that I would arrange for the acting of “Our Bitterest Foe,” a pretty little play for three actors, which would fill the second part of the programme. Alas! the getting up of any performance is not at all so easy as it seems. Mrs. De Montmorency Smith will not promise to take part in any concert without first having had the names of the other performers submitted for her approval. Then Miss de Courcy Jones will not perform unless she can choose her own place on the programme. The men, I must say, generally behave better. Having promised their help in the good cause of charity, they do not often worry one with petty tricks. Our proposed play was a difficult one to cast. Those of my readers who have seen it performed in England will remember that each of the three characters requires a deal of sound, strong acting. I had helpers in plenty; for amateur actors of a sort are not scarce in India; but they were not the right kind. Strange it is that almost every amateur actor is a low-comedy man! Our first rehearsal was altogether ridiculous. The man who essayed the part of the dignified Prussian General, Von Rosenberg, considered it the correct thing to sit in the presence of a lady with his feet on a chair! I had arranged my drawing-room as a stage, and had put each chair in its place, so, of course, could not allow the General to upset everything. When I told him of it, he answered stiffly, “That he wanted to make the part as natural as possible, and that men, when taking their ease, do sit in that position.” Knowing that a play cannot succeed, if each actor is allowed to adopt what “business” he pleases, I told him that Mr. John McLean had taught me his way of playing the piece, and that I should prefer it done according to his instructions. My General removed his feet from the chair with an angry grunt. I discovered that he stammered on occasions of excitement, and when he looked at me and commenced his first speech, saying, “You are s-s-s-s-s-s—ad, Mademoiselle?” my other actor, who was to play the part of Henri de la Fere, and who was listening behind a screen, burst into such a fit of laughter that we were unable to proceed for some time. On hearing this, the General got up from his chair and walked up and down the stage in long strides, calling out to Henri to come and play the part himself, if he could do it better. He cooled down after a time and we were able to resume. When he came to the lines, “I am a Prussian, Mademoiselle,” he emphasized the word “Prussian” by banging his fist down on the table with so much violence, that I, who was sitting on the opposite side following his speeches with the book, was startled and dropped it. This provoked repeated roars of laughter from Henri, which so incensed the General that he refused to say another word. I did not press him to do so; for I saw that his acting would not pass muster; so we partook of afternoon tea and passed things off pleasantly with some music. When the amateurs had gone, I decided to abandon my idea of a play and have a concert only, and to engage the Calcutta Town Hall for the occasion.
I found I had many kind friends to help me in getting up my concert. Besides the performers, who gladly offered their services free of all charge, was Mr. George, a clever artist, who was at that time engaged on an illustrated paper called The Empress, and who designed the programmes for me; Messrs. Thacker, Spink and Co., who provided and printed them free of charge; the Great Eastern Hotel Company, who sent their workmen with flags and drapery to decorate the Town Hall; and a number of other good people who all helped to make the evening a success. The Volunteer band, under Herr Kuhlmey, played during the interval, and also after the concert. Brother John and I had a hard day’s work before us in arranging the stage and decorating it with flowers and fairy lamps. He procured a quantity of evergreens, and between us we managed to make the stage look very well. He had a large model of a ship that had been made by the sailors, and of which he was justly proud, arranged among the flags and flowers in the centre of the stage where the audience could see and admire it to their heart’s content. Brother John and my husband took the tickets and showed the people into their seats. The concert was a success in every way. Mrs. Bushby, a silver medalist, and one of the best pianists in India, played the accompaniments. The soloists were Miss O’Brien, Miss Stuart, Mrs. Turnbull, Mr. Eastly, Mr. Hartland, and Father Hopkins, all well-known amateurs of Calcutta. I recited two pieces, and received a very hearty greeting from the crowded audience when I went on the stage. I thought that after all the hostilities we had encountered in connection with this leper question, that I should have a small house; but though none of the officials connected with the Leper Asylum or their friends were present at our concert, so many other people came that we had to provide more chairs to meet them all, and the Town Hall was quite full. I plucked up courage on seeing this, and recited in my very best style, gaining a hearty encore from my audience, who seemed to be thoroughly pleased with what I did. Miss O’Brien was, of course, the prima donna of the evening, and all the other performers were most successful with their songs.
CHAPTER VII.
WHITE LEPERS—DR. MACLAREN—HEAT AND MISERY.
Since my first visit to the Asylum two other men had been admitted, both Europeans. One man is English and was employed on the railway. He managed with the weekly rupee I was able to give him, to obtain some special kind of medicine which, he says, is doing him a deal of good. He showed me some in a small tin box. It looked like tobacco leaves and has a peculiar smell. He makes it into pills and takes several every day. There are many hundreds of different quack medicines which are advertised as “cures” for leprosy, but I have little faith in any of them. This English leper is entirely destitute, and is at the moment of writing sharing a common ward with natives. His sole furniture consists of the bed on which he lies; not even a chair being provided for him to sit on. He has no washstand, nor any other furniture. In the next bed to him is a man of French extraction; a very bad case. Leprosy has obtained such a hold of him that I doubt whether he will live very long. He was formerly employed in the Calcutta water-works and several letters had appeared in the daily papers written by different persons who had seen him, commenting on the danger of allowing a leper to occupy this position. He was discharged shortly after the appearance of these letters, a pension being allowed him for the support of his family. I heard that he had transmitted the disease to his wife. Notwithstanding that two pure Europeans had been admitted into the male ward, not the slightest thing has been done towards making them comfortable. How differently Dr. MacLaren treats his European patients! This admirable gentleman started in 1879 a leper asylum for natives at Dehra Dun, in the north of India, where he was in practice. This institution has been supported entirely by voluntary contributions, and Dr. MacLaren has devoted as much of his time as possible to trying to master this horrible disease with the aid of all that medical science can accomplish. In this year’s report of the Dehra Dun Asylum, we read, “During this year a European—the first—has been admitted to the Asylum. As, however, he does not belong to this district, and was admitted on his own urgent request, I may here make a short statement regarding him. Mr. C. W. J., who is in his forty-sixth year, was at one time in a good situation in a Government Office; but about nineteen years ago a blotch appeared on his body which in the course of a few years developed into disfiguring sores. He visited England on furlough to get what benefit he could from home treatment. After staying and receiving treatment for some time he had to return without having received the benefit which he had so confidently hoped for. Shortly after that, he was invalided out of the Service with only a gratuity; but on appealing to Government he ultimately succeeded in having a pension granted him. In July he first made application for admission; but as there was nothing in the way of accommodation for a European in the institution, I could not give him much encouragement. Ultimately, the local Government and the Superintendent of the Dun, Mr. Nujent, magnanimously provided funds wherewith suitable accommodation and furniture was provided. A small cottage, consisting of a room, bedroom, closet, and verandah in a corner of the garden, was altered, and given up for his use, and Mr. J. came here in October.” My readers may learn from this that Dr. MacLaren did consider the requirements of a European as being entirely separate and distinct from those of natives, and arranged for suitable accommodation for the one under his charge, previous to his reception. In Calcutta this is not done, and up to the time of writing, Europeans are herding with natives in a ward entirely devoid of furniture, except a bed each. This is not from necessity or want of funds; for the District Charitable Society is one of the richest in Calcutta. I may here explain to those of my readers who have not lived abroad that, however poor and miserably afflicted a European man or woman may be, the one possession to which they cling, and on which they hang their last shred of personal pride when everything else in the world has left them, is their nationality. Hence, they bitterly resent in their hearts, even when they are too stricken down to give vent to their feelings in words, any attempt to class them on a common footing with natives. The same commendable spirit animated St. Paul when he claimed that he was a Roman.
Dr. G. G. MacLaren.
[p. 57.]