Part 11
Such is the kind of story that is current everywhere. It is a matter of common belief that the witch-doctor never has any children, and that this is a punishment from heaven. The influence of the missionaries brings them frequently into contact with strange happenings: one of them in Ta-ting. Miss Welzel was asked to visit a woman who had taken poison, to see if she could do anything for her: on inquiring into the case she was told that there had been no quarrel or any other known reason for her committing suicide. The woman said she had seen daemons come into the house through the window, who told her to take two ounces of opium in brandy, which she immediately did, after which she announced the fact to her family. They sent for Miss Welzel, but it was too late: the woman died a few moments after her arrival.
The funeral rites, which take place in the fields, include the burning of buffaloes’ horns, cows’ bones, etc., on a kind of altar.
Our stay among the tribes and all we heard about them led us to believe that they are capable of becoming a valuable asset to the empire, and the progress now being made in civilizing them is most encouraging. Some have even been sent as elected members of the first Parliament of the Chinese Republic. They have proved themselves capable of taking literary degrees on the same footing as the Chinese. One of the most powerful viceroys in Western China was a Nosu. In S. Pollard’s book, _In Unknown China_, he mentioned the interesting fact that he had obtained (through a friend) the opinion of the brilliant Dr. Wu Ting Fang (formerly Chinese Minister at Washington) as to the position of the tribes in the new five-coloured flag. He places them in the red bar, which stands first of the colours, reckoning them as Sons of Han, namely among the Chinese.
_Chapter VI_
_The Province of Hunan_
“You’ve seen the world —The beauty and the wonder and the power, The shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades, Changes, surprises—and God made it all! —For what? Do you feel thankful, aye, or no, For this fair town’s face, yonder river’s line, The mountain round it and the sky above, Much more the figures of man, woman, child, These are the frame to? What’s it all about? To be passed over, despised? or dwelt upon, Wondered at?... ... This world’s no blot for us, Nor blank; it means intensely, and means good: To find its meaning is my meat and drink.”
—R. BROWNING.
_Chapter VI_
_The Province of Hunan_
We spent about three weeks in Hunan, and the weather was broken all the time. Many days it rained, and occasionally there were violent thunderstorms, so that our journey was delayed. We left the province of Kweichow on May 14, and found ten days in our little house-boat quite entertaining and recuperative, as it afforded time for rest after the strenuous journey over the highways and by-ways of that province. The river scenery was often very grand, though not equal to the Yangtze gorges. There was constant variety to occupy our attention, stopping at towns and villages, watching the other river craft, and making up arrears of correspondence. We had also been provided by Mr. Davies with a bundle of newspapers, and were glad to learn what was going on in the outer world, from which we seemed so completely shut out for the time being. It really did not matter that the papers were a few weeks old; the main thing was that we should not be so entirely ignorant of what had happened during our absence, when once more we reached home.
Mr. Davies had considerable difficulty in getting us a boat, as the boatmen were all anxious to get loads of opium for smuggling down river. There was a bumper crop, and the price of transport is heavy. Finally he succeeded in securing the boat in which he and his family had come up earlier in the season. The bargain was made for sixty-two dollars for the trip, with a bonus of two extra at the end, if we were satisfied. There were to be four rowers, but they didn’t keep to the agreement. They wanted to have military escort in addition, which we declined on account of the limited deck space in which they and the owners have to live.
The accommodation of a river-boat is small: ours consisted of three tiny compartments, of which we took two, finding that our beds occupied exactly half the space, with a well between them, and our chairs and table the remainder. The cooking was done in a sort of well in the small deck in front of us, and it was a great satisfaction to watch the way in which it was done by Yao and his meticulous cleanliness. There was no lack of water, so each vegetable was washed in clean water about five or six times. I believe the correct number of times to wash rice before cooking is ten. It was really astonishing to see the dishes Yao prepared on the handful of charcoal which was used to cook not only our meals but also those of the crew.
The scenery was very wild and beautiful, and on the whole our crew rowed well. There was an engaging little girl of three years old, who amused us not a little with her clever manipulation of the chopsticks, never dropping a grain of rice: she wore two silver bangles and two rings. Each night we moored by the bank in what was considered a safe place, for the robbers were much dreaded by the crew. Our live stock—chickens and ducks—were tethered out to graze. At one place they took on a couple of unarmed police, unknown to us, but as they would have been no use whatever had we been attacked, I ordered them to be put ashore at the next town. The robbers had burned many villages, we were told, driving off the cattle, killing some of the inhabitants, and looting all that was of value to them. All the way we passed shrines dotted along the river-bank—one hideous fat Buddha was painted on the rock—and incense was burnt continually by the owners of the boat. The quality of their zeal varied relatively to the danger incurred, so we had no need to make inquiry. At the worst part of all we had to support the courage of the crew by a pork feast, portions of which were flung into the air and caught by wicked-looking crows, which hovered screaming overhead. These crows are looked upon as evil spirits of the river needing to be propitiated.
The first important town we reached in Hunan was Yuan Chowfu, and we found there some missionaries of the China Inland Mission who had many interesting experiences to tell of revolutionary days. Hunan has always been a particularly anti-foreign province, and work has progressed slowly: it is not at all surprising that the people should be slow to understand the object of foreigners coming to settle among them, and every one mistrusts what they do not understand. It needs something to break down prejudice, and in this case the something was of a tragic nature. The missionary came home one day to find his wife lying in the veranda with a fractured skull and brain exposed to view: she had been attacked by a madman, who left her for dead. It was long before she was nursed back to a certain measure of health, with speech and memory gone. This happened two years ago, and now she is slowly regaining strength and her lost powers, and welcomed us with exquisite hospitality; despite having an attack of fever, she insisted on our staying to tea and the evening meal. Mr. and Mrs. Becker have the supreme satisfaction of finding that from the time of the accident their work has taken on a wholly different complexion; the people have rallied round them and look to them for support in troublous times. With but slight medical training Mr. Becker organized Red Cross classes, and took charge of the wounded in the mission premises. At one time the city was threatened by revolutionaries, the officials lost control, and for three days he took full command and saved the situation. He received medals and a complimentary board from the Government, acknowledging the great services he had rendered to Yuan Chow.
No less than nine times Mr. Becker has been caught by robbers, but has never had a single thing stolen by them, which certainly constitutes a record. When a pistol was put to his head, he presented a visiting card, saying, “Take this to your Chief”: it is a fine example of “a soft answer turneth away wrath.” On recognizing who he is, they have always released him without any injury. He told us that recently the robber bands have been broken up, and thought we need have no anxiety about them. We were regaled with the first strawberries of the season from their garden, which contained a promising supply of vegetables, and there were goats and kids in pens. We went away loaded with good things, and deeply impressed by the sight of these heroic workers and their colleagues.
The principal industry of the place is white wax: special ash trees grow here on which the insects live, but every year the insects necessary to produce the wax have to be brought from the neighbouring province of Szechwan. “When they reach the right stage of development they are put in paper boxes, in bamboo trays, and carried by the swiftest runners. These men only travel by night, as it is essential that the process of development should not proceed too rapidly. The boxes have to be opened every day and ventilated, and the men secure the best rooms in the inns, so that other travellers have to suffer if they are on the road at the same time” (_Face of China_, p. 183). There were also large numbers of paulownia trees, with their lilac flowers in full bloom: they produce a vegetable oil used for cooking and for furniture. All this district is noted for its trees, and much wood is brought down by a tributary river from the Panghai district, where it is cut down by the Black Miao tribe.
The next town where we halted was particularly attractive, surrounded by red sandstone walls and grey stone battlements. We made a complete tour on the top of the city wall, but the houses are so high that you cannot see into any of the courtyards. At one point there was a fine, picturesque group of trees overhanging the wall, otherwise the houses were built very close together, like a rabbit warren. On the battlements were a number of most comical little guns, some carefully protected from the weather by shrines built over them. They looked as if they might have come out of the ark, but were only about seventy years old, some being dated.
In the market we bought wild raspberries, which had quite a good flavour when cooked, but they were rather tart, as they were not fully ripe. We found wild strawberries by the wayside, but were told that some varieties are poisonous, and those we ate were quite tasteless.
Our next halting-place was Hong Kiang, where we arrived at 8.30 a.m., and spent a pleasant day with two missionary families, one being a doctor’s. He was rather depressed, because the town is under the control of a military governor of irascible temper. The doctor’s cook had recently been suffering from insanity and was being treated in the hospital, when he was suddenly seized and condemned to death. The doctor, on hearing of it, went instantly to the Governor to explain matters, but he pleaded in vain, and found the man had been shot while he was with the Governor. Executions are continually taking place, and so badly done that frequently the offenders linger wounded for hours after they have been shot. Often the doctor is begged to go and help, but what can he do? On occasion he has been allowed to go and bring them back to life! In one case he had taken stretchers on which to bring the sufferers back to the hospital, but they were one too few, so that he told one man he would come back for him. The man dare not wait for his return, and managed, despite being in a terrible condition, to drag himself to the hospital on foot.
Mr. Hollenwenger took us up a high hill behind the city to see the view, and it was certainly worth while, although the heat was great. The river winds round a long strip of land, and a narrow stream across it could easily be made navigable so as to save the junks having to make a detour of several miles. Another big tributary joins the river almost opposite the stream, by which quantities of wood are brought down from the hills. The valley is full of ricefields, and we saw men transplanting the rice with incredible rapidity from the small field in which it is originally raised to the larger fields where it attains maturity.
When we got back to lunch we found Dr. Witt had to go at once to an ambulance class, which the Governor had requested him to undertake in view of the troops being sent to fight in the struggle now going on between North and South. In various parts of the country we found missionaries being used by the authorities in this way. At the time that China joined the Allies during the war they told the German missionaries to leave the country, but exceptions were made in the case of many like these, whose work was felt to justify their remaining.
The next town of importance that we reached was Shen Chowfu, where there is quite a large group of American missionaries with hospitals, schools, etc., whom we had been asked to visit. Their buildings stood up conspicuously at both ends of the long river-front of the city. We were told that the hospital had been built with indemnity money paid by the Chinese Government on account of the murder of C.I.M. missionaries many years ago, but which the C.I.M. declined to accept. It is a well-known fact that such money never comes from the guilty parties, but is extorted from the people, and consequently is always a source of ill-will. We were told by some charming American ladies there, how bitter the feeling had been against them, and that for years they were guarded by soldiery and never left their houses unaccompanied by a guard. They had spacious gardens, and the missionaries’ families lived there without ever going into the streets. It seemed a strange kind of existence, and brought home to us acutely the question of mission policy. There seem to me to be two classes of American missionary ideals—roughly speaking—one of which is responsible for some of the finest work possible in China and which every one must heartily admire; such work may be seen at St. John’s University, Shanghai, and in the American Board at Peking. But there is another increasingly large class whose faith seems to be pinned on a strange trinity—money, organization, and Americanization. The first necessity for them is large and showy buildings, generally apart from the busy city life, or at least on the outskirts of the city—this may be all right in the case of boarding-schools, but for hospitals it renders them practically useless. I have seen groups of residential premises miles away from the work. The welfare of the missionaries is the foremost consideration. The means of transport are slow, so that hours must be spent every day by the workers getting to and from their work, and they live a life wholly apart from the Chinese. The work is highly organized, and they have much larger staffs than our missions provide, as they seem to have unlimited means and men. Undoubtedly we err grievously in the opposite direction: our missionaries have all far more work than they can perform. Added to that, our missionaries have about one-third of the holiday that the Americans do and less money to make the holiday a real one. Our societies are all hard hit by the question of finance, but it would be better to cut down our work rather than spoil its quality by insufficient staffing and underpay.
The third point is Americanization. A large section of missionaries so value their own culture that they believe they can do no better than try and denationalize the Chinese, or Indians, or whatever other nations they may be working amongst, and transform them into Americans. In the case of China this seems to me a most disastrous policy, and founded on serious error. The Chinese and British characteristic of reserve which we consider a quality they consider a defect, and believe that familiarity breeds not contempt but friendship. The breaking down of the reserve in the Chinese character is only too frequently a breaking down also of moral barriers—a disintegration of character, and opposed to the genius of the race. The Chinese student returning from the United States is often completely spoiled by having cast off the charming old-time manners of his own country in favour of the hail-fellow-well-met manners of young America. He cannot be accepted into a European or Chinese household on his return without taking what seems to them unwarrantable liberties, while he himself is sublimely unconscious of the effect produced. In the same way in mission schools the students are encouraged to familiarity with their teachers—as for instance in the case of mixed bathing in summer resorts. The teacher and the taught are all put on the same level, and the respect which we have been taught to consider due to age and learning, ceases to exist. “Manners maketh man,” and the difference in manners is one of the greatest bars to united work, which Christians of all denominations are trying so hard to build up in China at the present day.
To return to our brief stay at Shen Chow. It seemed an interesting place with fine large shops, and we should like to have made closer acquaintance with them. However, our boatman, who always wanted to loiter where there was nothing to be seen, showed a sudden determination that we should leave the town before sundown and reach a certain safe spot to spend the night. As we were always urging him to hurry, we felt obliged to give in, and reluctantly went on board. The Standard Oil Co. is very energetic there, and has a large advertisement, happily in Chinese characters, which are not aggressively ugly (like our Western advertisements) all along the river-front, the last thing we saw as we floated down stream.
Next day we shot the big rapid, and much incense and paper was burnt to ensure our safety. Rain fell heavily in the evening, as it had so often done during our journey. Before stopping for the night we came to a custom-house, where our boat was thoroughly searched for opium. It meant that at last we were come to a place where opium was strictly forbidden, namely into the territory under General Feng’s jurisdiction. The Customs officers, however, were most courteous, though thorough, and I believe would have taken our word with regard to our personal belongings, but I preferred that they should see we were quite willing to be examined.
At midday on the morrow we reached Changteh, and walked through wet slippery streets a long way till we came to the C.I.M. house. Mr. and Mrs. Bannan received us most cordially and invited us to be their guests, as Mr. Locke (who had invited us when we were at Shanghai) had been transferred to a school five miles down the river and was sure we should prefer to be in the city. This was much more convenient, and we found a week only far too short to see all the interesting things. We spent a couple of nights at the school with Mr. and Mrs. Locke, and took part in a Christian Endeavour meeting. This movement has proved very successful in some parts of China, especially for training the women and girls to take active part in evangelization. We went down the river in a minute motor launch, which was very handy, especially as we had to leave at an early hour to call on General Feng. I leave to another chapter an account of him and the city, which so obviously bore his impress when we were there. The level of Changteh is below the river-level sometimes to the extent of fifteen feet; then the city gates have to be sandbagged to keep the water out.
From Changteh we went by passenger boat to Changsha, and had two little cabins which we converted into one for the voyage. The whole of the roof was covered with third-class passengers and their belongings; at night they spread their bedding, and in the daytime squatted about or wandered round the very narrow gangway outside the cabins, a proceeding which left us in a darkened condition. Yao managed to prepare us savoury meals in some minute nook, having brought the necessary stores and a tiny stove on which to cook them. The day after leaving Changteh we crossed the wonderful lake of Tong Ting, a lake more than two thousand square miles in extent during the summer, and non-existent in winter. This strange and unique phenomenon is due to an overflow of the Yangtze, and in the summer there is a regular steamship service across the lake, connecting Changsha with Hankow, two hundred and twenty-two miles distant, by the river Siang and a tributary of the Yangtze. Eventually they will be connected by a railway, which is to run from Hankow to Canton, and of which the southern part is already in existence—and also a short section from Changsha to Chuchow; this is only thirty-eight miles and is mainly valuable on account of its connexion with a branch line to the Ping Siang collieries.
Changsha is an important city, the capital of Hunan. It is large and clean, the centre of considerable trade, and one of the newest treaty ports, opened in 1904. The variety of its exports is interesting: rice, tea, paper, tobacco, lacquer, cotton-cloth, hemp, paulownia oil, earthenware, timber, coal, iron and antimony. I was anxious to buy some of the beautiful grass cloth for which it is noted, and was taken by a friend to some of the big shops, but found them busily packing up all their goods, in case their shops should be looted by the approaching Southern troops. Such doings are by no means uncommon, and all Americans and Europeans seemed to take it as a matter of course. Arrangements were being made to receive terrified refugees into mission premises, and the Red Cross was extremely busy preparing for the wounded. The rumours as to the Governor fleeing varied from hour to hour, and it soon became plain that the city would be undefended. Our kind American hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Lingle, were having little Red Cross flags made to put up as signals on places of refuge, and he came in to tell us how the tailor who was making them had just appealed to him for help: a retreating soldier thought to make hay while the sun shone, and was taking possession of the sewing-machine, demanding that it should be carried away for him by the tailor’s assistant. Mr. Lingle also prevented another sewing-machine being stolen: evidently they were in great request.