From our point of view the social condition of women in India is highly deplorable. The women are not regarded as the equals of men, but rather as an appendix to them. Their religion teaches that they have no acknowledged rights as individuals, and that the only happiness they can attain in this world and in the world to come is to become wives and mothers of men, and that the more a woman sacrifices herself for man the greater will be her reward in the future. If the man to whom she is married dies, the remainder of her life is full of sorrow and suffering, and it is only in the life hereafter that she can expect any happiness, and that by being reunited with him.

This belief gave rise to the so-called “sati,” or the custom to burn the wife on her deceased husband’s pyre in order that she might at once be reunited with him and enjoy salvation through him. “Sati” is now prohibited by the English government, but every widow in India is still doomed to a life of misery and degradation.

When we consider that polygamy is practiced to a very large extent among the rich so that a man is allowed to have any number of wives, and may keep on taking new wives as long as he lives, it may easily be understood what a great number of widows there must be. There is an old man, for example, who dies and leaves many widows of different ages, some of them only ten or twelve years old, none of whom are allowed to marry a second time. They are deprived of all ornaments, and compelled to wear a very coarse, plain dress, to live on the plainest food, and work hard for the man who inherits the property of the deceased husband, and who is generally his brother or his son. This is the reason that rich families have a large number of women in all ranks and conditions, from the mistress of the house, which position is held by the husband’s mother, to the humblest servant woman. The education of women is prohibited; hence they are very much like children, playing with their dolls, jewels and other toys, and having no higher idea of life in general than what they have been taught in the nursery. It is rather fortunate, therefore, that these lamentable victims of prejudice live in ignorance, as long as the present condition exists, for otherwise their life would be still more miserable.

In the course of the last few years missionaries from Europe and America have opened schools for the education of girls. The most prominent of these is located in Calcutta, and has many branches in other parts of India. It is called “the American Zenana,” or ladies’ mission, and during my stay in India it was managed by a Miss Hook, a very estimable lady of Danish descent, the fruits of whose noble work will be of incalculable value to future millions of Hindoo women.

At an examination in this school I had the honor of distributing the prizes, consisting of five hundred American dolls sent by Cyrus Field of New York. The recipients were the most dainty and pretty little girls one could see. I wish I could describe this festivity. I sat on the platform in the great hall with Miss Hook to the right, a pundit or learned Brahmin to the left, and surrounded by the American and native teachers and some American tourists. The immense hall might be compared with a beautiful flower terrace alive with different colors, every little girl shining like a pretty flower in her red, green, white, blue or purple dress, her pretty black hair sparkling with gold and silver ornaments or jewels. They were all listening with close attention until their names were called, when they modestly, their faces beaming with joy, stepped up to receive the pretty dolls sent by the generous American.

At first these schools met with bitter opposition on the part of the better classes of natives, but these prejudices gradually died away, and at present the mission schools are not subject to either persecution or ill-will.

One day in February, 1883, I received a visit at my home by a Brahmin of the highest class, accompanied by his young wife and her little sister. Her name was Annandabai Joshee. Her husband was postmaster in the old Danish city Serampoor. He was a highly educated man, about forty years of age, with fine, affable manners. His wife was nineteen years old, and they had been married nine years. With the exception of the queen of Kutch Behar and a few in the Zenana mission, she was the first educated Hindoo woman that I had met. Her husband had given her an excellent education.

Their errand was to consult me and, if possible, obtain my assistance in a matter of the greatest importance to the women of India. The young woman had reflected somewhat in this manner: “Since I have acquired education, and the same amount of knowledge as a man, why may not other women in India do the same? In America many women are renowned for their great learning, and many of them are doctors of medicine. The women of India are not allowed to be visited by any man except their husband, and as all our physicians are men, who cannot see and carefully examine their female patients, they cannot, of course, prescribe proper treatment for them; hence many women in India must suffer and die without a remedy, which often could be avoided if women studied medicine. If American women can become physicians, then I can, and I have decided to go to America and enter the female medical college in Philadelphia and study for the degree of doctor of medicine, and then return to India and do good among my countrywomen, and disprove the false doctrine which keeps Hindoo women in ignorance and degradation.” Her husband was very enthusiastic for her plan, and, being rich, was also able to assist her in carrying it out if I would favor it and contribute toward its realization by reason of the influence my official position gave.

A few weeks later, the noble minded little Brahmin woman was on her way across the great ocean to that country where not only man but also woman enjoys a free existence. She carried official letters from me to all American authorities with which she might come in contact, also to the mayor of Philadelphia, and to the state department at Washington. Before leaving Calcutta she delivered an extempore address before a large audience at the University of Serampoor, of which address I have made the following extracts:

“I am asked hundreds of questions about my going to America. I take this opportunity to answer some of them.

“I go to America because I wish to study medicine. I now address the ladies present here, who will be the better judges of the importance of female medical assistance in India. I never consider this subject without being impressed that none of those societies so laudably established in India for the promotion of science and female education have ever thought of sending one of their female members into the more civilized parts of the world to procure thorough medical knowledge, in order to open here a college for the instruction of women in medicine. The want of female physicians in India is keenly felt in every quarter. Ladies, both European and native, are naturally averse to expose themselves in cases of emergency to treatment by doctors of the other sex. There are some female doctors in India from Europe and America, who, being foreigners, and different in manners, customs and language, have not been of such use to our women as they might. As it is very natural that Hindoo ladies who love their own country and people should not feel at home with the natives of the other countries, we Indian women absolutely derive no benefit from these foreign ladies. They indeed have the appearance of supplying our need, but the appearance is delusive. In my humble opinion there is a growing need for Hindoo lady doctors in India, and I volunteer to qualify myself for one.

“Are there no means to study in India? I do not mean to say there are no means, but the difficulties are many and great. There is one college at Madras, and midwifery classes are open in all the presidencies; but the education imparted is defective and insufficient, as the instructors are conservative, and to some extent jealous. I do not find fault with them. That is the character of the male sex. We must put up with this inconvenience until we have a class of educated ladies to relieve these men. I am neither a Christian nor a Brahmin. To continue to live as a Hindoo, and go to school in any part of India, is very difficult. A convert who wears an English dress is not so much stared at. Native Christian ladies are free from the opposition or public scandal which Hindoo ladies like myself have to meet within and without the Zenana. If I go alone by train or in the street some people come near to stare and ask impertinent questions to annoy me. Example is better than precept. Some few years ago, when I was in Bombay, I used to go to school. When people saw me going with my books in my hand they had the goodness to put their heads out of the window just to have a look at me. Some stopped their carriages for the purpose. Others walking in the streets stood laughing, and crying out so that I could hear: ‘What is this? Who is this lady who is going to school with boots and stockings on?’ Does not this show that the Kali Ugla has stamped its character on the minds of the people? Ladies and gentlemen, you can easily imagine what effect questions like this would have on your minds if you had been in my place!

“Once it happened that I was obliged to stay in school for some time, and go twice a day for my meals to the house of a relative. Passers-by, whenever they saw me going, gathered round me. Some of them made fun and were convulsed with laughter. Others, sitting respectably on their verandas, made ridiculous remarks, and did not feel ashamed to throw pebbles at me. The shop-keepers and venders spit at the sight of me, and made gestures too indecent to describe. I leave it to you to imagine what was my condition at such time, and how I could gladly have burst through the crowd to make my home nearer.

“Yet the boldness of my Bengali brethren cannot be exceded, and is still more serious to contemplate than the instances I have given from Bombay. Surely it deserves pity. If I go to take a walk on the strand, Englishmen are not so bold as to look at me. Even the soldiers are never troublesome, but the Baboo boys[6] have their levity by making fun of everything. ‘Who are you?’ ‘What caste do you belong to?’ ‘Whence do you come?’ ‘Where do you go?’—are in my opinion, questions that should not be asked by strangers. There are some educated native Christians here in Serampoor who are suspicious; they are still wondering whether I am married or a widow; a woman of bad character or excommunicated. Dear audience, does it become my native and Christian brethren to be so uncharitable? Certainly not. I place these unpleasant things before you that those whom they concern most may rectify them, and that those who have never thought of the difficulties may see that I am not going to America through any whim or caprice.

“Shall I not be excommunicated when I return to India? Do you think I should be filled with consternation at this threat? I do not fear it in the least. Why should I be cast out, when I have determined to live there exactly as I do here? I propose to myself to make no change in my customs and manners, food or dress. I will go as a Hindoo and come back here to live as a Hindoo. I will not increase my wants, but be as plain and simple as my forefathers, and as I am now. If my countrymen wish to excommunicate me, why do they not do it now? They are at liberty to do so.”

After my return to America I visited her twice at the medical college in Philadelphia, where she became everybody’s favorite, being one of the best students that ever crossed the threshhold of the institution. She did not renounce her religion or her habits of life, but observed all of these strictly. After three years of hard study she passed her examination with high standing, and practiced a few months in American hospitals, but she gradually succumbed to the dread disease, pulmonary consumption, and returned to India after an absence of four years, only to die in Poonah, the city where her ancestors had lived as highly respectable people for two thousand years past. She left India with the curse of the Brahmins on her head, but returned as the idol of her people. Thousands upon thousands crowded around her home, almost worshiping the frail, noble being whose youthful life was slowly ebbing away.

Strange are the ways of Providence. When Rev. Dr. Fjellstedt kindled a desire to see India in the bosom of the young country boy, who could then have guessed that this boy was to become a medium to assist that Brahmin woman who was destined to be the first one of the millions of India to clear the way to education and liberty for her unfortunate sisters!

Besides my report on wheat culture I sent numerous official reports to our government on different industries, and other matters in India, such as tea culture, the decline of American shipping in Asia, the railroads, the population of India, our commercial relations with India, etc. These reports attracted such attention in Washington that during the month of February, 1883, I received orders from the state department to make a tour of inspection to those provinces and cities which belonged to my district and report to the government anything of national interest. Shortly after receiving this order, which was accompanied by a leave of absence for six months, I also received a cablegram from Holland offering me the position of managing American director of the Maxwell Land Grant Company in New Mexico, whereof more hereafter.

On the 12th of April I turned over all my official affairs to the vice-consul, Mr. C. C. Bancroft, and took the steamer Raipatoonah for Burmah, where I visited the most important seaports, Rangoon, Mulmain, and Akjab. Buddhism is there the prevailing religion, and the caste system, such as is found among the Hindoos, is unknown. The people are more prosperous. The city of Rangoon has, among other notable objects, a celebrated Buddhist pagoda, the great dome of which is covered with solid gold plate. The pagoda is situated on a high elevation above the city, and the dome is one of the most notable and costly works of architecture in the world. It is visible at a great distance out on the ocean, and when the tropical sun throws its rays on it, it looks like a flame of fire, whose splendor is too dazzling for the eyes to endure.

At a dinner party arranged for me by the American consul at Rangoon, I met many of the prominent men in this city. Among these a judge of the supreme court, one Mr. Allen, who, late in the evening, at a game of whist, informed me that he had on that day been engaged in the trial of a Birmese prince accused of murder, and that he should pronounce sentence the following day. I could see that he had already made up his mind; still he politely asked me a few questions on international law with reference to the trial. The next day the prince was sentenced to death because he had violated the law of the land, which seems to prove that the English administration of justice in Asia is no respecter of persons.

In Birmah elephants are used for loading and unloading goods in the harbors. In the city of Mulmain I saw some of these wise animals piling up heavy timber in a lumber yard. The elephant put his tusks under the beam and his trunk over it and handled it with great ease. Having lifted the beam on the pile, he looked at it carefully to see if it lay in right shape, and if not, he would move it with his trunk. It was wonderful to see how well these animals seemed to understand what their drivers said. If a very big log could not be moved in the usual manner he would roll it with his feet or shove it with his head, or even put a chain around it and pull it along, and all this at the command of the driver who remained sitting on the head of the animal.