As I Remember
description. I am almost ashamed to acknowledge that I never saw the
interior of our kitchen, but our cook served our dinners in the most
approved manner. We frequently had guests to dine with us and as the
butler, Ning Ping, was as much an expert in his department as the cook,
Ting Ting, was in his, I was delightfully irresponsible and often
wondered, as I sat at my own table, what the next course would be. Our
guests were principally men, usually the senior members of _Hongs_ and
officers of war-ships lying in the harbor, and it was the custom of each
to bring with him his "boy," who stood behind him throughout the repast.
There was quite a number of missionaries in the city, and each religious
denomination provided its ministers with comfortable quarters. The
Baptists were especially well represented and also the "American Board,"
which was established in Boston in 1812. The English residents had a
small chapel of their own which was well sustained by them. There was
one missionary who commanded my especial respect and admiration. I refer
to the Rev. Mr. William C. Burns, a Scotch Presbyterian clergyman. He
led a life of consecrated self-denial, living exclusively with the
natives and dressing in the Chinese garb which, with his Caucasian
features and blond complexion, caused him to present the drollest
appearance. Only those who have resided in China can understand the
repugnance with which anyone accustomed to the amenities of refined
society would naturally regard such a life. He gave up body and soul to
the spread of Christianity in a heathen land, recalling to my mind the
early Jesuits, Francis Xavier, Lucas Caballero and Cipriano Baraza, who
penetrated pathless forests and crossed unknown seas in conformity with
the requirements of their sacred mission. Mr. Burns died in China in the
earnest pursuit of his vocation. I own a copy of his life published in
New York in 1870, soon after his death.
The Roman Catholic Church was well represented in Foo Chow and was under
the general direction of the order of the Dominicans. Each portion of
China, in fact, even the most remote, was under the jurisdiction of
some Roman Catholic Order, so that directly or indirectly almost every
Chinaman in the Empire was reached. The Catholics also had a large
orphan asylum in Foo Chow, over whose portals, in Chinese characters,
was the verse from the Psalms: "When my father and my mother forsake me,
then the Lord will take me up." Nothing brought back to me my far-away
Western home more pleasantly than the tones of the Angelus sounding from
the belfry of this institution.
There was a native orphan asylum in Foo Chow, not far from the American
Consulate--a fact I have never seen stated in any of the numerous books
I have read relating to the "Middle Kingdom." With true Chinese insight,
the largest salary was paid the nurse who successfully reared the
greatest number of babies. When I lived in China, the laws for the
prevention of infanticide were as stringent as our own, but they were
often successfully evaded. Poverty was so grinding in the East that the
slaughter of children was one of its most pitiable consequences. Infants
were made way with at birth, before they were regarded with the eye of
affection.
Fifty years ago slavery was prevalent among the Chinese, and one of its
saddest features consisted in the fact that its victims were of their
own race and color. Poverty-stricken parents sold their offspring to
brokers, and in Foo Chow it was recognized as a legitimate business.
Theoretically there were no slaves in Hong-Kong, which is British
territory, but in reality the city was full of them. Both men and women
slave-brokers infested the large cities of China, and boys and girls
between the ages of ten and twelve were sent from all the neighboring
villages to be sold in Foo Chow. The girls were purchased to be employed
as servants, and sometimes parents would buy them for the purpose of
training them until they reached the proper age and of then marrying
them off to their sons. In this way, as may readily be seen, some of
the young people of China were spared the vicissitudes and
discouragements of courtship so keenly realized in some other countries.
I have seen girl slaves sold with no other property except the clothes
upon their backs. Frequently their garments were of the scantiest
character and in some cases even these were claimed by the avaricious
brokers. Many of the waifs were purchased upon trial as a precaution
against leprosy which prevailed throughout the East. One of the tests
consisted in placing the child in a dark room under a blue light; if the
skin was found to be of a greenish hue, the slave passed muster; but, on
the other hand, if it was of a reddish tinge it indicated the early
stages of this fatal malady. Babies were not much in demand in Foo Chow
and did not even command the price of fresh pork! I learned at an orphan
asylum in Shanghai that they were purchased at twenty cents each. This
institution was conducted by missionaries who taught the girls all kinds
of domestic duties and, when they arrived at proper ages, saw that they
were given to suitable men for wives.
Not far from the Consulate were the quarters of the Tartars. They seemed
to live very much to themselves, and most of the men were connected with
the military service of the country. It may not be generally known that
ever since the commencement of the Tartar dynasty, between two and three
centuries ago, the queue has been worn by the Chinese as a badge of
submission to the Tartars. The feet of the women were not compressed by
these early rulers and consequently the Court did not set the fashion as
in European countries. I understand that even now the bandaged feet are
universal.
In those days there were no railroads or telegraphs in China. The
Emperor died while we were living in Foo Chow and the news did not reach
us until several weeks after the event, and then only through the medium
of a courier. The official announcement came to the Consulate upon a
long yellow card bearing certain Chinese characters. All of the
mandarins in our city, upon receiving the intelligence, gathered at the
various temples to bewail in loud tones and with tearful eyes the death
of their ruler.
The palace of the Viceroy was naturally the chief objective point of all
foreigners and especially of officials upon their arrival in port.
Occasions frequently occurred when Mr. Gouverneur was compelled to go
through the formality of requesting an interview with this high
official. These audiences were always promptly granted and were
conducted with a great amount of pomp and ceremony very dear to the
inhabitants of "far Cathay," but exceedingly tiresome to others. Some
distance from us, and in another quarter of the city, was a large
building called Examination Hall, used by the natives exclusively in
connection with the civil service of the government. It was divided into
small rooms, each of which was large enough to accommodate only one
person, and in these the young men of that locality who were aspirants
for governmental positions were locked each year while they wrote their
test examination papers. The hall accommodated ten thousand students and
the time of examination was regarded by the Chinese as a critical period
in a young man's life, as his chances of future success largely depended
upon the ability displayed in his papers. These were carefully read by a
board of examiners, and official positions were assigned to those who
excelled in the examination. Intelligence was regarded as the chief
condition of executive favor and, although personal influence naturally
had its weight, its exercise did not seem to be as prevalent in China as
elsewhere. It may not be flattering to the pride of other nations, but
the fact remains that the civil service of China was the forerunner of
the reforms instituted in countries which we are accustomed to regard
as much more enlightened in governmental polity.
While we were in China, the seas were infested with a formidable band of
native pirates that had committed depredations for many years. One day
two rival factions dropped anchor at the same time in the Min River,
directly opposite Foo Chow, and opened a brisk fire upon each other.
Many of the foreigners became much alarmed, as projectiles were flying
around at a lively rate. One of these which had entered the house of an
American missionary was brought to the Consulate, and Mr. Gouverneur was
urged to take some action. The natives of China were at times a
turbulent people who seemed glad for an excuse to stir up the community
and, in consequence of this battle of the sea-robbers, a mob formed in
Foo Chow which threatened disastrous results. The only foreign vessel in
the harbor was a United States man-of-war, the _Adams_, under the
command of James F. Schenck, subsequently a Rear Admiral in our Navy.
Only a few days previous the British ships had departed for the mouth of
the Peiho River, for the purpose of forcing opium upon the poor Chinese
at the cannon's mouth. The city authorities were requested to use their
influence in quelling the riots but seemed unequal to the emergency.
This state of affairs continued for several days, when one morning the
_Taotai_ (mayor), preceded by men beating gongs and followed by a large
retinue, arrived at the Consulate and requested protection for the city.
Upon a similar occasion during the previous summer, when a number of
British warships were in port, these belligerent pirates received
summary treatment by having their anchor cables cut, thus causing them
to float down the river.
Upon Mr. Gouverneur's request the _Adams_ sent a detachment of marines
on shore. It was quartered around the Consulate and its presence quickly
had the desired moral effect upon all parties, and proved a source of
great relief to both foreign and native residents. Later all
apprehension was removed by the speedy departure of the unwelcome
marauders. Meanwhile the Consulate had received many valuables,
deposited there for safety. The morning following the departure of the
ships we noticed a large number of boxes in our courtyard and also
several sheep tied to the flag-staff. For a time we could not understand
the meaning of this queer collection and were compelled to assign it to
the usual incomprehensibilities of Chinese life. Mr. Gouverneur went in
search of our interpreter, hoping that he could explain the situation,
but to our surprise he had fled. We learned that he stood in great awe
of the pirates and feared their vengeance if he told all he knew about
them. Mr. Milne, the British interpreter, finally came to our rescue. It
seems that the sheep and boxes were parting gifts--"Kumshaws," as the
Chinese term them--from the pirates to the American and British Consuls
and Mr. Milne.
At first we had no idea what the boxes contained, and Mr. Gouverneur
sought the advice of William Sloane, the head of the _Hong_ of Russell
and Company, who had long been a resident of China, as to what should be
done with this strange consignment. He strongly urged that, as a matter
of policy, they be accepted and the British Consul, Walter H. Medhurst,
agreed with him. The medley collection was accordingly divided into
three groups and some coolies were engaged to convey to the English
Consul and Mr. Milne their respective shares. The sheep took the lead,
and it was indeed a curious procession that we watched from our windows
as we breathed a sigh of relief over the departure of this
"embarrassment of riches," and commenced to plan for the disposal of our
own share. A few minutes later I chanced to glance out of the window
when, to my utter dismay, I saw the procession so recently _en route_ to