“I have heard the defaming of many, terror on every side.”
“He knoweth what is in the darkness.”
BY the morning of Saturday, June 9, everything was ready for the start. In order to keep the fact of our departure as far as possible from the notice of the outside world, we decided to ride our own animals to Lu-ch’eng and hire our mule litters from there. The overhanging cloud of sorrow at leaving our charge was still brightened with the hope that it was but a temporary separation, and our hearts revived under the prospect of the reunion that would, we believed, in the ordering mercy of our God surely and shortly be given us.
We started at ten o’clock, having sent on the baggage to avoid attracting attention. My wife and I rode each a donkey, while our two little ones, Hedley and Hope (aged four and three respectively), in Chinese dress were in the cart with Mrs. Chang. Mr. Barratt escorted us out some distance beyond the city wall. Miss Gates was feeling the separation too acutely to accompany us beyond the doors. She told us afterward that the sense of desolation that came upon her as the compound gates closed behind us was over whelming. My dear wife felt it not less acutely. It was the deepest suffering to her to be leaving her beloved fellow-worker thus, and more than once on the journey she said that she felt as though she must return, in the knowledge of her sister’s loneliness and need. Indeed, it was only by reminding ourselves of the various tokens God had given of His clear leading, and then of Miss Gates’ promise, that we were either of us enabled to go on.
We were just five hours going those fifteen miles, and five hours in the saddle under a hot sun was trying work to one in my wife’s circumstances. But I recall the calm cheerfulness, so characteristic, with which she sought to allay any disquiet that might be felt on her account, and to impart a happy contentment to those about her. It seemed wiser to go right through without dismounting, to prevent curiosity and talk; so that when we arrived about four o’clock, she was very, very weary. What a loving welcome awaited us! It was the first time Mrs. E. J. Cooper and my wife had met, Mr. Cooper having only just arrived to take up the station work; and how thankfully they reviewed the prospect of happy fellowship to come in the associated work of the district. It was pretty to see little five-year-old Edith, with her beautiful hair and English dress, taking Hedley and Hope round the garden, and all three playing merrily together as though no clouds were lowering overhead and storms could never be. Shouts of delight told that their pleasure was at its height when baby Brainerd (two years old) was put on the donkey’s back, and thence, after a judicious walk, transferred to his father’s shoulders for a reckless gallop. Everything in that sweet home spoke of peace and love. The moral value of such homes in heathen lands—most certainly at any rate in China—cannot be overestimated, or the need of them too earnestly emphasized. Tender memories arise as I think of that Sunday, the last we spent together within the boundaries of our own prefecture and province. To us at least who were taking the road it was “a sabbath of rest” in every sense of the word.
Mr. Cooper had already engaged our litters, and about eight o’clock on Monday morning they came into the compound. We took the precaution of fixing a curtain in front of the opening, that we could let down whenever we deemed it expedient to keep our identity out of sight. By half-past ten they were made as snug as bedding and pillows could make them, and all was ready once more for the road. Dr. Hewett and Mr. Barratt had ridden over from Lu-an to join in bidding us farewell. They had fresh news to bring. Mr. Barratt had just received a note by special messenger from his colleague at Ioh-iang, Mr. Woodroffe, to say that the Boxers had appeared in the neighborhood and had given out their intention of making havoc of the church there; and he took it as a call to himself to return and stand with his brother in the forefront of the battle.
The news was sufficiently grave to us all. What might not the next word be? Was it not the call to us to be also ready? The situation was becoming critical, and in the light of it the farewell was a solemn one. Well it might be; for of the eight of us—four men and four women—who were together that morning in the Lu-ch’eng compound, five were shortly called to martyrdom. Thank God these things were hid from our eyes at the time; else how could our heart have endured? Of those devoted women, the three Lu-ch’eng sisters had laid down their lives for Christ within the next two months, and five months hence not one of the four was living.
One word with regard to our martyred brother, Mr. David Barratt. I count it one of the choice privileges of my missionary life to have been allowed of God to know him. Young as he was in years, he was a ripe Christian. “A man full of faith and of the Holy Ghost,” great grace was upon dear David. Short as our acquaintance was, it was long enough for the forging of the bonds of love—the love of Christ—between us. His own soul was alive with divine love. It was his constant theme at all times. He took a tender interest in my two little ones, delighting to play and sing to them and to talk with them about the love of Jesus. To this hour Hedley remembers that the text, “We love Him because He first loved us,” was taught him by “dear Uncle David.”
What I once overheard him saying to them— “I want you to love Jesus very, very much. Do you know, Hedley, I love Jesus more and more every day,” —was entirely characteristic. The love of God was the law of his heart and the theme of his lips. During the week he was with us at Lu-an he spent much of his time alone with God, and the sound of his voice would often be heard in the private exercises of praise and prayer. An ardent missionary spirit, he yearned for the salvation of the Chinese. His whole soul went out to them in the compassion of Christ. Everything was considered in relation to the great end in view, and whatever was seen to be of the nature of a hindrance was resolutely laid aside.
The circumstances under which Mr. Barratt met his death at the hands of the Boxers are not fully known; but the subjoined letter, written on the eve of martyrdom, is its own witness to the triumph of his spirit over the terrors of the Power of darkness. I insert it in full by kind permission of Dr. Julius Hewett, to whom it was addressed. It was sent from Yü-wu on July 6, and received at Lu-ch’eng (twenty-seven miles distant), at midnight of the same day; “After worship this morning, July 6, I saw a copy of the proclamation on the street; Ch’eng and Li do not think it came from the Governor, but only from Tuen-liu Hsien, especially knowing that the official there is a ‘Big Knife Society’ man. We studied some of the half-hundred ‘fear-nots’ of God this a.m., and had a blessed time indeed. I send you a few from the Concordance especially helpful to Christians now. I will get some copied out, so that the people can take them home and look into them. Really, it is wonderful! Isa. 51:7-167Hearken unto me, ye that know righteousness, the people in whose heart is my law; fear ye not the reproach of men, neither be ye afraid of their revilings. 8For the moth shall eat them up like a garment, and the worm shall eat them like wool: but my righteousness shall be for ever, and my salvation from generation to generation. 9Awake, awake, put on strength, O arm of the Lord; awake, as in the ancient days, in the generations of old. Art thou not it that hath cut Rahab, and wounded the dragon? 10Art thou not it which hath dried the sea, the waters of the great deep; that hath made the depths of the sea a way for the ransomed to pass over? 11Therefore the redeemed of the Lord shall return, and come with singing unto Zion; and everlasting joy shall be upon their head: they shall obtain gladness and joy; and sorrow and mourning shall flee away. 12I, even I, am he that comforteth you: who art thou, that thou shouldest be afraid of a man that shall die, and of the son of man which shall be made as grass; 13And forgettest the Lord thy maker, that hath stretched forth the heavens, and laid the foundations of the earth; and hast feared continually every day because of the fury of the oppressor, as if he were ready to destroy? and where is the fury of the oppressor? 14The captive exile hasteneth that he may be loosed, and that he should not die in the pit, nor that his bread should fail. 15But I am the Lord thy God, that divided the sea, whose waves roared: The Lord of hosts is his name. 16And I have put my words in thy mouth, and I have covered thee in the shadow of mine hand, that I may plant the heavens, and lay the foundations of the earth, and say unto Zion, Thou art my people. (Isaiah 51:7‑16) was honey to me this morning. I pass the comb on to you.
“On Saturday I hope to meditate on some more. At the Sabbath service I thought I would look for your dear mother’s photo, as that must not be spoiled. God bless and guide her dear boy! The big framed photo I had taken to the north court.
“‘Forget Me not,’ then ‘fear not’ —some of Jehovah’s ‘Fear nots’ —Gen. 15:11After these things the word of the Lord came unto Abram in a vision, saying, Fear not, Abram: I am thy shield, and thy exceeding great reward. (Genesis 15:1)., 26:24; Judg. 6:2323And the Lord said unto him, Peace be unto thee; fear not: thou shalt not die. (Judges 6:23); Isa. 41:10,11,1410Fear thou not; for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness. 11Behold, all they that were incensed against thee shall be ashamed and confounded: they shall be as nothing; and they that strive with thee shall perish. (Isaiah 41:10‑11)
14Fear not, thou worm Jacob, and ye men of Israel; I will help thee, saith the Lord, and thy redeemer, the Holy One of Israel. (Isaiah 41:14); Ex. 14:1313And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will show to you to day: for the Egyptians whom ye have seen to day, ye shall see them again no more for ever. (Exodus 14:13)— ‘Fear not, stand still and see.’ Ex. 20:2020And Moses said unto the people, Fear not: for God is come to prove you, and that his fear may be before your faces, that ye sin not. (Exodus 20:20)— ‘To prove you.’ Num. 14:99Only rebel not ye against the Lord, neither fear ye the people of the land; for they are bread for us: their defence is departed from them, and the Lord is with us: fear them not. (Numbers 14:9); 1 Chron. 28:2020And David said to Solomon his son, Be strong and of good courage, and do it: fear not, nor be dismayed: for the Lord God, even my God, will be with thee; he will not fail thee, nor forsake thee, until thou hast finished all the work for the service of the house of the Lord. (1 Chronicles 28:20). Isa. 35:3, 4, 103Strengthen ye the weak hands, and confirm the feeble knees. 4Say to them that are of a fearful heart, Be strong, fear not: behold, your God will come with vengeance, even God with a recompence; he will come and save you. (Isaiah 35:3‑4)
10And the ransomed of the Lord shall return, and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads: they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away. (Isaiah 35:10)— ‘Say to them of fearful mind, fear not.’ Isa. 18:1; 5, 10, 12, 21; 46:8; 51: 7-13, 161Woe to the land shadowing with wings, which is beyond the rivers of Ethiopia: (Isaiah 18:1)
1Now will I sing to my wellbeloved a song of my beloved touching his vineyard. My wellbeloved hath a vineyard in a very fruitful hill: (Isaiah 5:1)
1Woe unto them that decree unrighteous decrees, and that write grievousness which they have prescribed; (Isaiah 10:1)
1And in that day thou shalt say, O Lord, I will praise thee: though thou wast angry with me, thine anger is turned away, and thou comfortedst me. (Isaiah 12:1)
1The burden of the desert of the sea. As whirlwinds in the south pass through; so it cometh from the desert, from a terrible land. (Isaiah 21:1)
8Remember this, and show yourselves men: bring it again to mind, O ye transgressors. (Isaiah 46:8). Dan. 10:1919And said, O man greatly beloved, fear not: peace be unto thee, be strong, yea, be strong. And when he had spoken unto me, I was strengthened, and said, Let my lord speak; for thou hast strengthened me. (Daniel 10:19); Joel 2:2121Fear not, O land; be glad and rejoice: for the Lord will do great things. (Joel 2:21)— ‘Great things.’ Jer. 8:1313I will surely consume them, saith the Lord: there shall be no grapes on the vine, nor figs on the fig tree, and the leaf shall fade; and the things that I have given them shall pass away from them. (Jeremiah 8:13). Matt. 10:28-3128And fear not them which kill the body, but are not able to kill the soul: but rather fear him which is able to destroy both soul and body in hell. 29Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father. 30But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31Fear ye not therefore, ye are of more value than many sparrows. (Matthew 10:28‑31)— ‘Jesus speaks.’ John 14:1, 41Let not your heart be troubled: ye believe in God, believe also in me. (John 14:1)
4And whither I go ye know, and the way ye know. (John 14:4)-Response. Heb. 13:5, 65Let your conversation be without covetousness; and be content with such things as ye have: for he hath said, I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee. 6So that we may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me. (Hebrews 13:5‑6); Psa. 27:3;56:3,4;118:63Though an host should encamp against me, my heart shall not fear: though war should rise against me, in this will I be confident. (Psalm 27:3)
3What time I am afraid, I will trust in thee. 4In God I will praise his word, in God I have put my trust; I will not fear what flesh can do unto me. (Psalm 56:3‑4)
6The Lord is on my side; I will not fear: what can man do unto me? (Psalm 118:6)— Hallelujah.
“Later.—See what I wrote an hour ago on scraps of paper, and now note what follows. An hour ago, Deacon Si, who knew you when at T’ai-yüen with Dr. Edwards—he is a man who helped Dr. Edwards, and is now a fugitive fleeing down to Hu-peh (Hankow) in hope of saving his life, going as a pedlar—came to tell you here of the awful things in T’ai-yüen, and how Mr. Saunders’ party had gone to Lu-ch’eng, all the places in P’ing-iao being destroyed. The news nearly made me faint, though His peace filled, and still does fill, my soul.
“The people (missionaries) are all in one place, and may be killed any day, by order of her awful majesty ‘The Lord reigneth.’ The man did not stay long, but said he wished to warn us. He asked if I could help him with a few cash, and after talking with Ch’eng Chu-ch’eng I gave him 500 cash. He is evidently a true man; we all heard his story breathless. He lived on the premises at T’ai-yüen, and knows not whether his wife and family are gone or not. He flees rather than worship false gods, the only alternative given to the people. He gave Mr. Saunders’ and several other names in English, as well as their Chinese names. We got together after he left, and prayed about matters and sang Iesu ling o’ (He leadeth me). I never knew its full meaning till this hour. A report comes from the street that this place is to be looted and destroyed on or before Sunday. When the news of the fire at P’ing-iao and T’ai-yüen reaches Sï-t’ing and around here, there is no telling how things may go. It seems the whole affair comes from the Empress-Dowager. The Empire is evidently upside down. A mighty magazine has been fired in ‘The Boxers’ and ‘Big Knives,’ and now ‘Mene, mene, tekel, upharsin,’ is written on the old Middle Kingdom, and God’s Kingdom shall go with increasing power over this land. Extermination is but exaltation. God guide and bless us!
“Realizing that Lu-ch’eng is no place for another foreigner, while on my knees (I think) Liang-ma was suggested to my mind as a place of refuge, and I determined to place myself in the three natives’ hands to dispose of me as seemed best. While speaking of one or two places to which I might go, saying they would go home and ask God’s guidance as to what they should do, they saw the mob coming here, and had to flee. The Governors are against us now, and so we can only trust in God, and do all as He gives wisdom, to ‘escape for thy life.’ I am quite peaceful in soul though I feel awfully in body; felt like fainting a bit, since body not strong, truly fragile clay, soon smashed! Well, Ch’eng and Hai-kin said I could not do better than allow Ch’eng Chu-ch’eng to take me tonight to Liang-ma, among the hills, to old Mr. K.’oh’s house, where I would find a quiet ark of safety for the present. Hard travel! How different to when I came! So we are praying about it now quietly, and if God still points that way, this vigil with God will be all along the road. The old ship sinks, and the lifeboat must be put out, as our Father shows. Ch’eng and others hope you may be led to go there also, but it must be secretly. How I fear you may have gone right into the very fire at Lu-ch’eng, so many people being there; Lu-an is worse, I guess! It is the target of plunder they aim at, and these premises are most unsafe places. I look at these pretty things which may in a few hours be all gone. Ch’eng will carry some of the cash with us which you left him. We hope to take a few of the valuables over to the North Court, as there may be a chance of hiding them. The bank book and papers Ch’eng thinks of carrying with him to Liang-ma. When I get there he may come back and see how things are. Ah, only our blessed Lord knows! All we have is His, and so we fear not. ‘Fear not them which kill.’ He says, ‘Are ye not of much more value than many sparrows?’ ‘Peace, perfect peace,’ brother, and all at Lu-ch’eng. We may meet in the glory in a few hours or days. A nearer way than to go to Lu-ch’eng. I have been wondering if Ho-nan is troubled; mails to the coast might be got that way before the way is blocked. Sorry the man could not wait for a letter to some Hu-peh place of mission. Now a sleep, no dinner, a quiet time with God, then ‘twilight and evening bell, and after that the dark’ (moonlight), and I know there will be ‘no moaning of the bar, when I put out to sea,’ because ‘Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on Thee, because he trusteth in Thee’
Lao-san and Hai-kin will stay to k’an-men (keep the door) till it needs it no further... they say. They are good men! God preserve them to the coming church, whose baptism is of fire and blood!
“My presence cannot aid in the least now. Let us be true till death. ‘Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life.’ They are not strangers to the country as I am, so wish to help me now. ‘God moves in a mysterious way, His wonders to perform.’ There are a few good hiding places in the Yoh-yang district in which to hide, Brook Cheriths, eh? I do plead for all our West stations, P’ing-yang, etc. Maranatha, Jehovah!”
But to return. The farewells were said and the litters hoisted to the mules’ backs, my wife and little girl leading the way in the first litter, followed by Mrs. Chang riding a pack mule. Then my little boy and I in the second litter, with Chi-fah to bring up the rear on a donkey.
And now began a series of journeyings the true nature of which can never be adequately described. Reckoning from the day we left our station, the time over which they extended was sixty-seven days (June 9 to August 14); and the total distance covered by them just over one thousand English miles. The dates embrace the hottest period of the Chinese year. Not only so, but the summer of 1900 was the hottest that had been known in China for thirty years. Under ordinary circumstances traveling would be reckoned folly (to say the least) at such a season, even where it was possible to take the usual precautions. What the actual circumstances were under which we traveled will be found in the sequel, to the glory of God.
Our litters had been hired to Shuen-teh Fu. Thence we intended hiring again to Pao-ting Fu. The real difficulties of the journey would then be over, as the rest of the way is by river to Tientsin. This was the route Mr. William Cooper was taking, who was only a week in advance of us. More than once on the road we regretted that we were not traveling with him. But it was the mercy of God to us that we were not.
All was quiet as we passed along to Li-ch’eng, where we slept the first night. We had no occasion to lower our curtains. Probably this was due to the fact that rain sufficient for the present need had fallen in the neighborhood, and allayed for a time the excitable tendencies of the people. Also it had led them out into their fields, and turned thoughts and hands to something else than mischief. For this we thanked God and took courage. It looked as though we should get well through. The next day the muleteers disobeyed my orders and turned off the high road to follow the “small” road, as they always will if they can. The track lay over the roughest, wildest path in the heart of the Tai-hang Mountains. More than once the drivers lost their way and took us into trackless, ugly places whose solitude and desolation palled upon one. The mules—old, and broken-kneed, unfortunately for us—were continually stumbling over the rocky steeps and in the torrent-beds, which had the double effect of imparting a distressing pitch to the litter (something akin to the sensation of sea-sickness) and of keeping the nerves perpetually on the stretch for fear of a spill. Often in going down or up the rocky passes the only way the animals could keep their feet on the glazed surface of stone was by planting them in holes worn by the immemorial traffic. It was not long before stumbling turned to tumbling. The front animal that was carrying my wife fell, pitching her violently forward, while the hind mule was doing his restive best to work out from under the poles. Then the struggles of the beast to get up under the lash, and the terrible jerk of the last vigorous effort that set him on his feet again—what suffering it all was to me by sympathy with her! I tried exchanging litters, hoping that as my animals had not yet been actually down they had something to recommend them over the others; but the fond delusion of superiority was dispelled when ere long we were both down, first one and then the other.
Add to this that the “small” road meant vile inns that catered only for muleteers, not for travelers. For such, no suitable accommodation was provided; hence we had to make shift with food of the coarsest and rooms of the filthiest. How real a trial this was can hardly be understood except by those who have experienced it. After the fatigues of a long day’s journey under a hot sun, quiet restful sleep was an absolute essential to my wife, not to mention the little ones. But the tiny, grimy room was too stifling, and the vermin too lively, to indulge even the hope of such a thing. The nights were, for her, torture. The children, too, were bug-bitten about the face till the people asked whether they were not sickening with smallpox!
Thus the mode of travel, which on the high road would have been comparatively restful, was turned to an occasion of peculiar weariness and trial. But this was not all. By the less frequented route we were naturally objects of curiosity, where on the high road we should have been comparatively unnoticed. Thus it came to pass that the halting times, so far from being (what they should have been after hours of pitching and stumbling) seasons of rest, became a real source of added weariness and often of serious apprehension. In the ordinary way we would think little or nothing of curious crowds, beyond the inconvenience they entailed. Every foreigner has to face this as the inevitable, and endure it as patiently and good-naturedly as he can. But the circumstances under which we were traveling were more than ordinary—much more so even than we were aware of at the time. The muleteers gave us a significant hint of this, when upon my remonstrating with them for disregarding my strict injunctions to keep to the high road, they replied that they had purposely turned aside to avoid publicity. The rumors were so evil about the foreign devil, and the temper of the people so inflammatory by reason of the drought, that it was highly dangerous to take that route. This was not reassuring. It gave room, to say the least, for fears that even these outlandish folk might not be so wholly untouched by the current news of the outside world as we could wish at the present juncture, nor by the prevalent feeling as to the cause of the drought. We could never be sure that there was not something behind their curiosity that would quickly turn it into hostility. It was always a matter of thankfulness if we were back in our litters and on the move again without having encountered an angry demonstration.
The third day we found that these fears were not altogether groundless. At noon we were halted in a village too insignificant to boast an inn. Accordingly the litters were set down in the narrow street, and we were told to make our way to the food shop which had a so-called “guest-room” opening out of it Here we unlocked our small food box, and began to prepare the children’s meal. Before it was ready, the yard was thronged and the room itself packed with a gaping crowd. The heat was very great and the atmosphere of the room soon became overpowering. We answered the questions that were put to us politely and pleasantly as we went on with our meal. But the crowds continued to press in upon us, until my dear wife turned sick and faint. Eating became a difficulty, and as for resting it was out of the question. Appealing to their better feelings Chi-fah persuaded them to leave us, and then tried to secure the boltless door, But to no purpose, for the door was then lifted from its hinges, and they swarmed in more boisterously than ever.
Seeing the temper of the crowd, the proprietor now sent us word to go; and Chi-fah told us that we must leave without delay, or the situation might become extremely awkward. This, however, was easier said than done. Our head muleteer was an opium sot, and immovable until he had had his fill of the drug. So we were forced out to our litters in the street; and instead of the quiet meal and sleep we so sorely needed, we had to snatch what food we could as we sat in the broiling sun, confronted by a rude mob whose attitude was rapidly becoming a menace to our very safety. Thus we were for two long hours. At last the muleteers appeared, leading out the animals; and oh, the relief, as we passed out of that village gate and left the following crowd behind! In view of all we went through afterward this was a small thing; but I record it, because it marked a distinct period in our experience, and also because it shows how gradually God was training us to endure the hardness of the sterner discipline to come.
From this time our progress was anxious work. We were well into the province of Ho-nan, that northern strip of it which divides between Shansi and Chih-li; and we knew that the Honanese were no lovers of the foreigner. We found it advisable to stop only when forced to do so; and even then to make short stays and extra early starts.
On Friday, June 15, we reached our last halting-place, fifty li (seventeen English miles) from Shuenteh Fu. One stage more, and then—! The prospect of being with dear friends and in the comfort of a home again, always delightful after days of travel, was never so delightful as now. As the litters were set down for the last time, our hearts went up in thanksgiving to God, and we entered the house where we were to take our meal in good spirits. It was a private house, there being no inn in the place; and our hostess received us with courtesy and an unusual show of friendliness. Food was brought in; and we were just praising God for the happier circumstances under which the next meal would be eaten, when a man came in and entered into conversation with Chi-fah. As they sat squatting by the door and talking, food bowl in hand, I became aware that the ordinary voice, in which they had been exchanging the usual generalities of talk, was sunk to a low undertone, and I saw Chi-fah’s face change color. Involuntarily he set the bowl down and listened intently to what the man was saying.
I said, “What is it, Chi-fah? Is there anything wrong?” He turned to me as he said, “God help us now, Pastor! Shuen-teh Fu is all on an uproar. The Sub-Prefect’s yamen has been burned, the Roman Catholic premises destroyed, and there is not a single foreigner left in the city. All have fled.”
I shall never forget that moment. I cannot describe the heart panic of it. It seemed as if I had suddenly stepped out of bright sunshine into darkness—blackness of darkness, unrelieved by a solitary ray. My wife had lain down to rest on the k’ang (or dais of hard-baked clay) beside the children; but with a woman’s instinct she divined what we were talking about, and begged me to hide nothing from her. I was anxious to keep her from anything that would needlessly agitate, and sought grace to tell quietly the substance of the man’s information. It was just the signal for her faith to take fresh hold of God. The darkness was indeed real; but God was there, and that was enough for her. It was such a stay to my own heart at that time to see how in the time of trouble God was literally her refuge and strength. I had seen it often before, but never in such a day of trouble as this.
For now, if ever, it was the swelling of Jordan to us. What could we do? Where could we go? Before us riot and certain destruction; behind us, if we turned back, six days (and who knew bow many more?) of such difficulty as we had just experienced, and of exposure to the certain hostility which would now no longer be restrained. In either case we were confronted with peril of the gravest kind. I dared not let myself think of what it might mean to my dear wife. I could only cry out in silence to God for her and the little ones. Then the deep comfort came, “Thou hast beset me behind and before. Thou art about my path.” And as she and I knelt with Chi-fah in prayer for strength and guidance, the peace of God flowed like a river.
As we discussed the situation one thing was clear to us—to go forward. There was at least the chance that the report might be an exaggerated one, and as the (China Inland) Mission station had not as yet been attacked, it was just possible that our friends might after all be found there. But in any case it was a Prefectural city, and if the worst came to the worst we could put ourselves under the protection of the chief magistrate. We had our Consular passport with us, and to present it was to make him responsible for our safety. The course of action was therefore clear—first, to ascertain whether or no any missionaries were still within the city; and if not, then to put ourselves directly under the care of the Prefect. But how to get the information we wanted Who would be willing to go for us at a time when the popular feeling was running high against us?
Our God had heard and had already provided. It so happened that our informant was a Roman Catholic —a fellow-sufferer, in a sense, who had himself escaped from the riot. He now agreed (not, however, without considerable hesitation), for a thousand cash, to carry a letter to the missionary in charge, Mr. Martin Griffith. We were to pay down half the amount; the other half he was to receive when he had finished his errand. I instructed him to return by a particular road in order that we might not miss each other, since in any case we intended to go on to the city. I then wrote a few lines to Mr. Griffith, idle as it seemed to do so; and the man hid it in his sock and went off. How much hung upon his fidelity to the trust! And how much prayer was made for him in the discharge of it!
It was now about 2 p.m., but we thought it advisable to delay starting, partly to give the messenger time to do his business, and partly to prevent our reaching the city before dark. We should not have started even when we did but for an untoward event.
A good many people were coming about us, and the small courtyard was full. Whether the actual state of affairs in the city, as reported, was known to them I cannot say. There was no open show of incivility; but possibly our being where we were had something to do with that. Our hostess had been sitting with my wife and chatting in the kindest way, and we had thankfully noted several little attentions out of the ordinary; indeed, so well-disposed did she seem that my wife was encouraged to speak freely to her the Word of Life. What was our distress when this woman suddenly became “uai-li” (as the natives in our part call it)! I can only describe it as a species of devil possession. We learned that she was a witch or spirit medium, and was in consequence subject to such possession at any time. In the first stage it was a distressing sight to witness; but distress became horror, as the fearful realities of the power of darkness passed before us and penetrated beyond the senses to the inmost parts of our being. There was no violence of any kind. She simply sat on her doorstep looking straight before her, with dulled eyes, dead to all expression, and apparently just going off into a swoon. After so much kindness received, my wife and I were much concerned, and, supposing that she had been taken suddenly ill, wanted to assist her as far as we knew how. But Chi-fah warned us to have nothing to do with the matter, as she was under possession. Then the woman straightened herself, and with vacant, stony stare into space began an incantation. As the weird strain rose and fell upon the air it made one’s very flesh creep; for the burden of it was our Lord Jesus whom we preached. Higher and higher rose her voice after each pause, and more animated grew her gestures, as she chanted I know not what of blasphemy against the Holy One of God. I cannot describe what it was to be in the presence of such a manifestation of spiritual wickedness. The atmosphere about us seemed suddenly impregnated with a subtle influence of evil unknown before. It was as if the personal Satan stood beside us, and the air we drew in were charged with his very breath. On each one of the four occasions I have been called to witness the horrible sight in China, the impression upon the inner sense has always been the same in a greater or less degree,—a consciousness of actual contact with the actual personalities of wicked spirits, indefinably awful and too subtly palpable to be explained on any mere physical or mental hypothesis. A spiritual effect demands a spiritual cause. No one who had stood with us, and seen what we saw or heard what we heard, could have doubted for a moment what (or rather who) that cause was. The incantation was its own evidence that it was an inspiration of the devil, and one of the most devilish of its kind.
The danger we had to fear was that those standing by would lay this devil possession at our door, and say that it was the effect of the “foreign devils” coming to the place. Accordingly Chi-fah told us at once to leave the house, and wait in the litters by the roadside while he went to urge the muleteers to an immediate start. Here again God helped us. For the first time there was a ready response; the mules were led out, and a few minutes later we were hoisted to their backs. As we moved down the street we could still hear the rise and fall of the witch’s chant, fainter and fainter, until we were out of earshot. The awful sound followed us as a wail of woe rising from the heart of sin-stricken Christless China—as a call therefore to a more earnest devotion than over to the work of preaching deliverance to the captives, and of praying “Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.” One could not compare the transformation of that kindly lovable soul into a creature from which one shrank with horror with the transformation that might be hers into the beauty of holiness, without having the longing deepened to be a vessel of God’s grace to those “whose debtors we are,” or the resolve quickened to spend and be spent for the hopeless millions that know nothing of Him who “was manifested that He might destroy the works of the devil.”
There was nothing said or done to us as we passed along to the village gate. Doubtless they were thankful to see the last of us, and, had we tarried, would have taken matters into their own hands to get rid of us.
The start was, however, full early for our purpose, and the pace had to be regulated accordingly. I cannot attempt to describe the agony of that ride. Every step was bringing us nearer to—what? Any moment now we might be stopped and our identity discovered; and what then? Our very destination—what was it? A city in full riot. Even if we made straight for the yamen, should we succeed in reaching it, or even in passing the barrier of the city gate? Then, too, it would be pitch dark ere we could expect to meet the messenger. What if in the darkness we missed him? Behind the close-drawn curtain of that windowless litter, as the twilight settled into night, I learned something of what it meant to be left alone. The darkness seemed to enter from without and wrap itself about my soul. Those eight hours were hours of weakness and fear and much trembling, and of wrestling with God for the mother with the children.
On and on, with nothing to break the silence but the footfall of the mules and the occasional call of the drivers, or their curt response to the salutations of the passers by. I observed that they maintained a rigid reserve in replying to the usual questions, and that the frequent inquiry, “Who have you got inside?” was carefully parried.
On and on, but no sign of the letter bearer. Surely we must by this time have traversed the road along which he was to meet us? Would he never come? Had he, after all, ever meant to come? The suspense was almost unbearable. At last my curtain was pulled aside. It was Chi-fah. “What are the Pastor’s instructions now?” he whispered. “We have passed the appointed place, and the man has missed us.” There was only one answer— “Tell the muleteer to drive us right into the Prefect’s yamen.”
On and on, until the dark line of the city wall stood out before us. My heart sickened as I peered through the curtain. Fearfulness laid hold upon me as I thought upon what lay behind that wall, and I shrank from the very thought that we had reached our goal. How often had I queried longingly, Would the journey never end? Now it was only, Would that it could be prolonged! The only avenue through which the terrible uncertainty could be relieved had failed us, and we were shut up to the tidings we had heard and which had been more or less confirmed by passers by. A few minutes more now, and we should know.
It was just upon eleven o’clock. As we drew closer to the city, the drivers proceeded even more cautiously. The bells were removed from the necks of the mules, that our entrance might be as quiet as possible. I could not help wondering at the death-like stillness that reigned. It seemed difficult to believe that we were in the neighborhood of riot and destruction. Not a sound was to be heard except the going of the mules. Once more I drew the curtain slightly aside and peeped. There was the great gate right before us, and we were about to cross the bridge. Yes, we were there now; and my cry went up to the God of our salvation.
A moment later and my curtain was drawn aside from without. Again it was Chi-fah.
“What is it? Tell me!”
“Blessed be our God, Mr. Griffith is in the city, and has sent his servant here to await our arrival. He himself has gone out with Mr. Brown by the other gate to meet you, in case you should have been entering the city that way.”
It is impossible to express what I felt. The tension of eight hours could only find relief in tears. There was the man standing, lantern in hand, and he appeared in my eyes as an angel of God. I looked up, and there was my dear wife’s litter standing close beside my own. “Oh, Archie” she said, “isn’t it too wonderful! He has heard our cry.”
Though it was eleven o’clock, strange to say the gate was open and we could enter unnoticed. Over the bridge and through the gate; and now we were inside the walls. As I sat behind the curtains and listened, not a sound broke the stillness. The city was wrapped in sleep. Almost before we were aware of it the litters had stopped and the curtains were drawn. Lanterns were lifted to the opening; and the faces of the dear friends we had longed but scarcely hoped to see were looking in upon us, with words of loving greeting in whispers on their lips.
The “few minutes more” were gone, and now we “knew.” What did we know? Not riot and destruction—not even the Prefect’s yamen; but a home of love, and the tender mercies and compassions of our God!