“He said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee; for my strength is made perfect in weakness.”
NOW began a series of fresh experiences in the mode of travel which were destined to tax our strength to the utmost limit of endurance. For a period of thirteen successive days we were to be taken on by cart and handbarrow, the suffering of which can only be described as torture. As proscribed aliens, with nothing to recommend us to mercy, we were treated in precisely the same way as the criminal class, and carried like ordinary felons from prison to prison.
It has been my aim and constant endeavor, in this story of our escape, to give a simple and natural account of events as they actually occurred, in the strict impartiality of fact. In so doing, it has been impossible to avoid setting forth the undesirable side of the Chinese character; and possibly some may think that I have given it unnecessary prominence, to the disparagement of the people themselves and the prejudice of the missionary cause. The fear, however, if such there be, is more sentimental than reasonable. Nothing can be gained to the cause of Truth by trying to make black appear white. On the other hand, the unveiling of the Truth and the depicting of the heathen as they are in their unenlightened state ought to furnish one of the strongest arguments in favor of their evangelization, to constitute a powerful call to prayer and commemoration, and to make our hearts yearn the more over them in the tender mercies of Christ. If the sight of an enlightened nation persecuting the messengers of God, and stoning them that were sent to it, moved the tears of the Lord Jesus, should the record of the same deeds done for lack of light provoke in us anything else than His own compassion in the spirit of His own self-sacrifice?
I may not hesitate, therefore, to say plainly that, in being exposed to the treatment meted out to criminals, we were exposed to much barbarity. No account was taken of sex, years, or physical condition. Woman with child, or strong man; tender infant or mature adult—it was all alike to our captors: as little consideration was given to the one as to the other. We were all greatly reduced at this particular time, but especially my dear wife, with the dysentery strong upon her, and the little ones with their wounds and extraordinary fatigues. Yet day after day, for ten days, she and they were called upon to endure an average ten hours of the all but unendurable jolt, bang, swing, crash, of a cross-country springless cart, and that with nothing but the floor board to sit on. With characteristic unselfishness Miss Gates took the worst seat at the far back, thus enabling my wife and little girl to sit forward, where, even if the force of concussion remained the same, at least the swing was not so violently felt. But anyhow and everyhow, it was a case of holding on for one’s life. If I narrate a little of my own experience, it will stand for that of the ladies also.
My little boy and I were ordered to the far end of the cart, the body and shafts of which were immediately loaded up with the soldiers of the escort. These took possession of leg space and every other space, often lying curled up or at full length, either smoking or asleep. I was thus forced into a sitting posture with my legs drawn up, Hedley between.
The hands were fully employed in gripping the framework on either side, to forestall the sudden tilt which threatened dislocation at any moment. I remember letting go once, for a second or two, to ease the arms, when a cruel lurch gave me cause for the rest of the day to rue the venture, with a stunning blow to the head, first this side, then that, before I could recover my grip. In an hour or so the cramped position became unbearable, and yet how to alter it was a problem. We had to devise various shifts in utter desperation, and lunge out with the stiffened limb in any direction whatsoever, regardless of the anathemas of the disquieted sleepers blocking us up. The oscillation of the cart was felt in all its force where we were, and the muscles ached again with the severe and continuous strain upon them. Then, too, the unmitigated hardness of the floor seat, the harsh grating of the wheels, and the violent impact of jolt and crash, rasped the nerves and bones at the base of the spine to an exquisite sensitiveness. Some alleviation perhaps over what we might have suffered a day or two earlier was afforded by the softened state of the country roads; but when it came to being rattled over the paved unevenness of a street or bridge, or the disordered bed of huge stone blocks that lay at the threshold of every city gate, then it was that we tasted real agony. One merit the carts had—they were well covered in from the sun’s fierce heat. The “p’eng” consisted of a stout thatch of dried rush and straw matting lashed to a strong framework, concave and detachable. Generally, though not invariably, it extended behind far enough to shelter one from the oblique rays of the sun; for there was an opening at our back, which, delightful for ventilation, was also at times dreadful, from the beat it admitted to the nape of the neck.
It will be readily admitted that traveling of such a nature and under such conditions for ten consecutive days, from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. (sometimes later) was no ordinary test. Indeed, how any woman in my wife’s condition could survive such an ordeal (even apart from all that followed after) is a problem that has taxed the wit of doctors. The sustaining power of God, expressly granted, is the only rational answer, as they have honestly recognized.
On leaving Huai-k’ing Fu, we struck due east, our course being directed to the Hsien city of Wu-chi. The roads were largely under water, and it was no uncommon thing for the cart to be axle deep in liquid mud. Often it would tilt over to a dangerous angle, righting itself only as by a miracle. On one occasion at least, we stuck so fast in a bog that, for all the yelling and flogging, our three strong beasts could avail nothing until relieved of our weight.
At noon we were driven into the courtyard of a large village inn. There we were ordered to dismount. The long morning separation made the reunion the chief feature of the halt; in the joy of which pain, weariness, hunger and thirst were for the moment forgotten as we inquired of each other’s welfare and compared experiences. We were taken to the commodious guestroom of an inner courtyard (where, however, there was no k’ang) and the gates were shut. Half in doubt as to whether we were in the hands of friends or foes, fearing in hope and hoping in fear, we sat waiting for the next event, which proved to be the entrance of the “Shao-ie.” The kindness of his greeting and the courtesy of his manner reassured us at once; and what a lifting it was of what a burden! While we were taking the handsome meal he ordered for us, he seated himself near the table, smoking his long pipe and chatting in the most affable way. The meal over, he took leave of us with a gracious bow and a gift of 1,500 cash—to this extent, at any rate, showing us the consideration of a true gentleman. We did not see him again, as at this point of the journey he returned with his two orderlies, leaving us in charge of the soldiers. Two hours of blessed rest were given us, when to stretch one’s self full length on a bit of straw matting was the perfection of luxury. Then the order to mount; and we were off once more, to the old tune of jolt and swing.
As we neared Wu-chi, the soldiers again fixed bayonets, and, forming up on either side of the carts, took us in as prisoners under arrest. It goes without saying that an immense concourse pursued us to the yamen gates and pressed in after us. The scene baffles all description. I do not know whether I can attempt to give the home reader any idea of it. Perhaps if I try, the account may be taken as a general description of what took place at every city and yamen we passed through.
Picture, then, if you can, the two carts pressing through the city streets as fast as ruts, etc., will allow. The armed escort at once attract notice, and speculation is rife as to who their quarry may be. The news that they have “iang ren” spreads like wildfire; and the first curious few increase to hundreds, and the hundreds swell to thousands ere the goal is reached. I can assure the reader it needed all the grace of God to watch the assembling of the mobs en route and not tremble. Arrived at the yamen gate, we are, as a rule, driven well inside, halted, and ordered to dismount. The vast mob pours in tumultuously and throngs about us, fighting to get the first sight as we make our way to the shafts and from the shafts to the ground. The carts are driven away; the escort, having no further concern with us, go off to report themselves and hand in our papers; and we are left standing alone where we alighted. What objects we look to be sure as we face the hustling multitude! Here at Wu-chi I have a nine days’ growth of hair about my face; I stand in a torn, bespattered gown, and in socks caked with mud; and under my arm I hug the rolled-up beggar’s rag, purse by day and pillow by night. The ladies’ garments are soiled and torn; Miss Gates is shoeless, and stockings worn through; the children’s gauze combinations are almost in tatters. They carry in their faces, poor little darlings, the marks of much crying from terror and from pain to which the long wounds from shoulder to elbow bear witness. My dear wife wears only too visibly the look of suffering entailed by her distressing sickness, and all of us the deep impress left by exposure, want and sorrow. No wonder we excite curiosity; but oh, for some to take pity! Aching in every bone with the hard day’s ride, and sore with many bruises, we yearn for rest; but instead of rest we have to face the noise and heat of pressing crowds and the always possible imminence of attack. I take little Hope in my arms to keep her from the crush and soothe her fears; and as she clings she hides her eyes and stifles her sobs in my neck. Hedley (plucky little man that he is!) stands by his mother fronting the crowd with sad, wistful face; but never a cry or a murmur leaves his firmly set lips.
Sooner or later soldiers and runners appear on the scene for the regulating of the crowd, which is done as much by the vigorous use of the lungs as of the arms. Now ensues a tumult which is quite indescribable, what with the deafening babel of the soldiers’ shouts, the growing excitement of the people, and the resort to the bamboo flail to keep them back. Sometimes we are kept standing thus in the open for a considerable time; at others we are taken straight to the common prison, and either lodged in a cell or in the guardroom adjoining, there to await the Mandarin’s pleasure. Distracted with the noise and fearful of attack, we hail our prison quarters as a place of refuge. And yet even here we are not safe from molestation—especially if the jail prove to be at the entrance to the yamen, or anywhere else than within an inner enclosure of its own, when good-bye to all hope of rest and quiet until darkness falls and the hour for closing the big gates is come.
It was at Wu-chi that we made our first acquaintance with a bona-fide Chinese prison. We were taken to a small courtyard soon after arrival, without any idea on our part as to the place we were going to—and told to seat ourselves on the narrowest of narrow benches against the outside wall. It cut too painfully, and we preferred to stand. A survey of our surroundings quickly told its own horrible tale, and the truth was brought home to me in all its dread reality that we were classed as very criminals, and were to suffer as such. I shall never forget how my heart sank at the discovery, or when for the first time I heard immediately behind the clank of chains, and saw within touch the poor degraded looking creatures who wore them crowding to peer at us through the wooden bars of their prison door. Were we then after all only delivered from Shansi to die in Ho-nan?—for to be taken to prison was surely the preliminary to being taken to death. It was out of the depths truly that I cried, “Lord, hear my voice”; for hope sickened in the knowledge that we were actually in the yamen prison, and that this was an official act. “Gracious is the Lord and merciful.” A time, long in coming, came at last when a messenger entered with a squad of runners, and led us out across the first courtyard into the second, the gates of which were closed after us. Here we were given a small room to ourselves, so far as occupation went. Not visitation, however; for from the minute we entered, we were besieged by groups of yamen officials, gentlemen, and employees who were considerate enough to show real interest and kindly sympathy with us, and inconsiderate enough to stay till midnight. Stiff, bruised, and aching all over, too weary for words, we scarcely knew how to meet the innumerable questions with which we were plied—most of them trivial and childish to a degree, and repeated over and over with every fresh batch of corners.
Among our earliest visitors was the Mandarin himself. With becoming awe, the effect of our last experience, we prepared at the announcement of his approach to receive him. Runners cleared the way. A chair was set, and a moment later we were face to face with the Great Man. A mere boy to look at, tall, spare, with an indolent stoop from the shoulders, he was in all respects, save in the matter of dress, a direct contrast to his colleague of Huai-k’ing. Dignity he had none; the lack of it was supplied by a spurious make-up of autocratic swagger which, for peevish impotency, was as humbling an exhibition of moral infirmity as could well be seen. As soon as he was seated, he addressed himself to us as to prisoners in loud, bullying tones, the offensiveness of which was possibly more apparent than real, while a retainer handed him his long tobacco pipe. He remained seated throughout the audience, only rising to stamp his foot and shout at the unheeding crowd of suitors that clamored at the door, when their lawless irreverence inconveniently broke bounds. With all his mannerism he was a friend to us, whether in his heart he wished us well or not; and when he rose to leave, we genuinely felt the thanks we gave him for his kindness towards us. Indeed, the fact that he had granted us an audience at all was no small favor, as we were to realize yet more fully in the painful experiences to come.
It was also at Wu-chi that we gleaned our first tidings of the outside world and of the fearful trend of things in China itself. We were told that all the great Powers were at war with the Middle Kingdom; that the foreigners had fled in confusion even from Hankow and Shanghai; and that there was not one of them left in the country. How much of this was to be believed it was impossible to say; but the bare fact that it was thus commonly reported among the people was a severe menace to our hope of getting through in peace and safety, and moreover it explained in some measure the prefect’s enigmatical warning at Huaik’ing Fu on learning our destination, “You are on a fool’s errand; for you will never get there.”
The fear, however, that the rumor had a distinct basis of fact to rest upon was distressingly increased by the tidings now made known to us for the first time of the awful tragedy at Pao-ting Fu. We were told that the whole foreign community in that city had been massacred the women with great barbarity, their breasts having been cut off, and themselves thereafter hanged over the city wall. We were also warned that to go on towards Hankow by the ordinary route (via Nan Yang Fu) was attended with the greatest risk; that several stations had been rioted; and that in certain districts en route no foreigner could hope to pass through unmolested. We were advised that our only chance of getting safely to the coast lay in taking the course due west into Shensi, and then striking south to Tong-king, through Sïch’uen and Kuei-cheo. The futility of attempting such a journey was so apparent on the face of it that it had only to be mentioned to be dismissed; and we had to fall back on the risk and decide to continue as we had begun.
Our decision seemed to call out much genuine sympathy; for all agreed that we could never get through alive. Seeing the kindly feeling manifested, my wife turned the occasion to practical account, and put in an earnest plea for cast-off clothing for the children. We were touched at the response it met with; for not long after, several garments were brought in, sent by the Secretary’s “t’ai-t’ai” (lady) and forthwith the little darlings were arrayed in yamen pants and tunic. My wife was affected to tears, and could scarcely speak her gratitude. I never look at these garments now without a vivid realization of that scene, and a renewal of the thanksgiving that went up on the spot to God.
There seemed to be a real spirit of inquiry towards the truth of God in Christ; and precious opportunities were given, through the many questions pressed upon us, of preaching unto them Jesus. Miss Gates especially was greatly helped in speaking, and one cannot but hope that the seed then sown was, to some at least, unto life eternal.
When all had at length withdrawn we had leisure to reflect on the significance of the news we had heard. A tale of war, riot and massacre was not calculated to raise our spirits or to lead us to think that we were likely to be any better off in Ho-nan than in Shansi. The gloom of the prospect was deepening rather than lightening. How soon might not we be called to go the way of our martyred brethren and sisters in Chih-li? For tomorrow would see us at the Yellow River, the fords of which we had heard were held by the Ta Tao Huei; and how could we hope to cross unchallenged? Nevertheless, we thought upon God; and in thankful remembrance of all the marvelous way He had led us hitherto, we committed the keeping of our souls to Him. Then stretching ourselves on the bare brick k’ang, only glad that it was not a cell in yonder prison courtyard, we gave ourselves up to the untold blessedness of quiet aloneness, and were soon asleep.
The following morning (Sunday, July 15), the carts were ready at an early hour to take us on another stage. The route chosen as likely to prove less hostile was via Cheng-cheo, Hü-cheo and Sin-yang Cheo. Breakfast was given us along with a little store of road money, and withal some kindly advice about Hope’s hair! The Secretary produced a pair of scissors of antique pattern, and suggested that we should make her look as much like a native child as possible, to avoid attraction. It went to my wife’s heart to do it, but she saw the wisdom of the advice and bravely cut off the cherished locks.
And now we were bound for the Yellow River and the Hsien city of Yung-tsï on the other side. I do not know why, but the thought of safety seemed, in spite of everything, to connect itself with getting safely to the other side, and I longed intensely to see the barrier of its waters separating between us and terror. So the irrepressible hope and the inexpressible longing were again uppermost, in the mercy of God, and kept me stayed on Him in an expectation that I know was from Him.
Our soldier escort, however, was anything but satisfactory. Six in number, powerful looking and evil eyed, they crowded us up in the cart, and let us know right well that we had better take care how we behaved ourselves. These were the men who when I sought to speak to them of the grace of God turned on me fiercely with an order to desist, saying, “Stop that talk; don’t you know that the Emperor has made it a state crime to preach the Jesus doctrine? Your Jesus has brought trouble enough to China; but China will have no more of Him now forever.” Those guarding the ladies occupied themselves with reading aloud our official papers, from which it appeared that the Wu-chi Mandarin had, with all his kindness, done nothing to relieve the misery of our condition officially. No “uen-shu” was given us, to replace the criminal’s “lu-p’iao.” Whether it was in his power to do this or not I do not know; but judging from the strong independent action of some humane and noble-minded governors through whose hands foreigners passed, it seemed to be largely a question of the individual himself. However, the fact remains that neither as regards the mode of travel nor the billet assigned us at the end of the day’s journey, was any difference made, or to be hoped for, over that accorded to the ordinary criminal. The soldiers commented with jocular satisfaction on the clause in the Lu-an paper relating to our dismissal from China, which they took to be an order for our official execution; an impression which had nothing to counteract it in the Wu-chi dispatch, and which, therefore, bore its own fruit in their conduct towards us.
Not far from the Yellow River we were halted at a quiet wayside station, where we were mercifully free for once from crowd-inquisition and its horrors. The incident of our halt there, however, has survived in my memory not on this account, but because of a narrow escape we had from death at the hands of the escort. We did not appreciate at the time how near it had been; but in the light of after knowledge we felt that the Hand of God alone had held our soul in life. While we were eating, two of the soldiers entered and sat down before us.
“A few li more and we shall be at the River,” they said. “There are great dangers there for you foreigners, and we can’t undertake to get you safely across unless you pay us for our trouble.”
The dismay such a demand struck into us may be imagined, for we had to keep a jealous watch upon our tiny store of cash, as the margin for daily living was none too large, and at any yamen (as, indeed, on one occasion we proved) even the criminal’s rate of allowance stated in our papers—30 cash per head a day—was liable to be withheld. However, without betraying our inner feelings, we replied good-humouredly, “Pay you for your trouble, good sirs? Why, it has nothing to do with us, as you know. This is a yamen matter; we are being forwarded by his Excellency of Wu-chï, and he has made himself responsible for all payments by the way, your own included.”
“What the Lao-ie gives us won’t nearly pay us for the risk we run. We must have so many hundred cash more per man or we can’t do it.”
Seeing that their manner was becoming dangerous, I said to the ladies that perhaps it would be wise to meet them half way, and strike a bargain for a certain sum; for to give them what they actually demanded would have more than exhausted the exchequer. However, I was outvoted, and in deference to Miss Gates’ wide experience in things Chinese, gave way to her strong conviction that to yield the position by so much as a hair’s breadth would be fatal, encouraging them not only to increase their demand, but also to rob us of all that we had, under threat. So we gave a positive refusal to grant them a single cash. Time was given us to reflect upon our mad decision, and they left the room, to re-enter it shortly before the start in company with the rest of their comrades.
“Have you settled what you are going to give us?”
“We have told you once. We have but little more than the necessary food money for ourselves by the way, and the matter of your taking us across the River is not ours, but the Lao-ie’s.”
Abuse followed freely as they gave full vent to their rage, and when this failed to make the due impression they turned to threat. “Who but we can take you across in safety? Pay us the money we ask, or we will make off with the cart and leave you to find your way to Yung-tsï as best you can.”
Their looks were terrible enough for anything, and made one inwardly tremble; but to retreat from the position now would be to run a greater hazard. To keep a firm, unflinching front with our eyes upon God was the only thing to do with these bullies; and we did it, without realizing the full gravity of what we were exposing ourselves to. Finding that we were immovable, they went out with the threat to abandon us on their lips and the longing to kill us outright in their eyes; and it is certain that nothing but the restraining Hand of God kept them from both one and the other. The rest of the journey to the River’s bank was a period of much inward fear and crying to God; for every yard of the road we were liable to be set down and left to ourselves, if not (as appeared afterward) to be actually set upon and dispatched.
But the mercy of God brought us through; and with what mingled fear and joy we saw at length the turbid waves of the famous Huang He before us it is impossible to tell. The longing with which I looked across the broad mile of flood to the south bank, and prayed to be there! For we had now reached the assigned limit of escape. At Lan-chen Cheo it was affirmed that, even if we succeeded in getting so far, we could get no farther; and had not the escort just been warning us to the same effect? It was no idle rumor either; for subsequently, on reaching Hankow, we found a belief current, “on the best authority,” that we had all been out to pieces at the Yellow River as the result of an Imperial order to close the fords against all foreigners; and further hope of ever seeing us alive had consequently been abandoned.
The spot to which we were taken was a comparatively quiet one—not one of the more important fords (like that, for instance, of Yü Men K’eo); or else the long wait at the riverside might have been attended by serious consequences. Possibly, as being out of the ordinary beat, it may not have been thought necessary to watch so unlikely a crossing. Anyhow, no guard of Imperial Boxers came forward to challenge us, and but few were there to take notice of us at all. And yet how we got across God alone knows. Another attempt was made on the banks of the river to levy blackmail, and when they found us still immovable, they sat down to discuss what course to take. For hours our lives hung in the balance. I believe we were as near death then as ever we had been hitherto, and a good deal nearer than we had any idea of at the time. It was not merely a matter of the soldiers, either. The ferrymen had to be taken into the reckoning. With the deepest concern we saw the supposed negotiations to take us over fall through. At any other time one would have thought nothing of it, accepting such delay as part of the ordinary experience of everyday travel in China; but everything was out of joint now—times, conditions, nerves, everything. With an Imperial death-warrant out against us, under circumstances of flight from a relentless pursuer, enemies on every side of us, our very escort threatening us, it was not to be expected that we could watch the dilatory processes of driving even the usual bargain with the usual equanimity—much less where the bargain involved issues of life and death, and where moments were precious. For it amounted to nothing short of this—on the one bank death, on the other life. And the frenzied hubbub of the bargainers had subsided in a sullen refusal to take us to the life side!
It was another opportunity for proving the power of God to keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Him. Our trust was in Him—not in the escort nor in the boatmen, but in Him Whose it is to turn the heart whithersoever He will for the accomplishment of His purposes; and again we waited for our God.
The soldiers’ irresolution as to what in the circumstances they had better do, kill or leave us, gave the ferrymen time to reconsider the advisability of securing a fare while they had a chance, and on the principle that half a loaf is better than none, they made a fresh advance. Whether the escort saw in it a welcome escape from an uncomfortable dilemma I cannot, of course, say. I only know that we saw in a satisfactory conclusion of the bargain the intervening Hand of our delivering God, as truly as did Israel of old when they went through the flood on foot; and there did we rejoice in Him. Planks were forthwith laid to the boat, and the carts rolled on board; the six mules were huddled into the well in the bows (not without some inconvenient demonstrations of passive resistance); the moorings were slipped, the sail hoisted, and we were being borne swiftly down the current of the mighty River from death to life.