Chapter 4: The Breaking of the Storm

“In the day when I cried Thou answeredst me, and strengthenedst me with strength in my soul.”
IT was not long before we were in possession of the real facts. The messenger had fulfilled his trust, and duly delivered the letter to Mr. Griffith. Why he failed to meet us on the road was never made quite clear to me. But the main end was secured. Our friends had not fled and were aware of our approach, and the lesser trial was forgotten in the greater mercy.
The report that we had heard was to a very large extent exaggerated. Certain incidents had occurred both in connection with the Roman Catholics and with the Sub-Prefect’s yamen, which formed a good basis for the story; but there had been no actual riot, nor had the foreigners fled. None the less, the state of popular feeling was highly inflammatory, and it was generally believed in the city that not a foreigner remained in it. It was a remarkable providence of God that we entered the city at the precise hour we did. A large idolatrous fair was in full swing; and had we entered earlier we must have encountered trouble. Mr. Griffith also remarked upon the fact that the streets should have been deserted as they were, for the night before the revelry had been kept up till past midnight. In this, too, we could not but see the hand of our God. As it was, our coming was a dead secret to the city. How little they thought that instead of there being “no foreigners left within the walls” there were more than had been known there for some time!
As, however, such a rumor was abroad, Mr. Griffith felt it advisable to let it stand so, and not allow the general ignorance to be enlightened. So he begged us to keep altogether out of sight and not attempt to show ourselves even at the compound gate. Thus for the eleven days of our happy, though hazardous, sojourn there (June 15 to 26) we never once went beyond the walls of the mission premises. This precaution proved to be only too necessary, as I shall presently show.
We now learned for the first time something of the extent of the Boxer rising and the direction it was taking. News was forwarded us by Mr. C. H. S. Green from Huai-luh by special courier, from which we saw that the hope of our being able to continue our journey would have at least to be deferred. It was evident we were to “tarry the Lord’s leisure” and not to make haste. Though we were anxious to press on to the journey’s end, yet we were sure that the restraint was of Him, and the event proved it to be His care for us in His purpose to deliver.
We could not but feel considerable anxiety for the safety of Mr. William Cooper, who had left Shuenteh Fu for Pao-ting Fu that very week. A telegram from Shanghai urging his return by way of Ho-nan arrived just too late to alter his route, as he was then too far on the road to be overtaken. This telegram was, used of God to show me, later on, the possibility of escape in that direction. But for that, so far as I know, I should have been in ignorance of such a possibility and probably have made no attempt to leave the station beyond flight to the hills. As it was I studied the route while at Shuen-teh, and knew how to act when the emergency arose. The telegram was too late to save Mr. Cooper, but I have a conviction that it turned to the salvation of myself and my house.
Those days at Shuen-teh were unspeakably precious to us. Looking back upon them now I cannot sufficiently thank God for all that He gave us in the loving ministrations of Mr. and Mrs. Griffith and Mr. R. Brown. They did not allow us to know, until events revealed the fact, how they were risking their own lives to shelter us; for when once the secret of our arrival was out, the peril to themselves was extreme. As a matter of fact, our coming brought on the riot which lost them their all and compelled them to face what seemed to be certain death in flight. The privilege as well as the consolation of being with them at such a time was very great. I shall never know in this life how much of the grace to endure in the hour of trial, then so close upon us, was imparted in those days of waiting together upon God and of learning really to say, “Therefore will not we fear though the earth be removed.” It was one thing to say it in the day of our prosperity; but we found together—all of us, I doubt not—that it was another thing to say it truly when “the heathen” all round us actually were “raging” and “the kingdoms” were, in a very real sense, being “moved.” Community of suffering drew us very closely together; for though we were not exposed as yet to physical hardships, we never knew what an hour, day or night, might bring forth. Once discovered, riot was inevitable; and this of course, if only in the apprehension of it, meant suffering of a very tangible kind.
My dear wife and Mrs. Griffith were specially drawn to each other in the peculiar circumstances by the common bond of motherhood; and I know that the sweet fellowship in the Lord my wife enjoyed with Ian Griffith was signally used of God to the inward renewing of her strength and preparing her for the great fight of sufferings yet to come.
The first thing we did was to send on a message to our district superintendent, Mr. Bagnall, at Pao-ting Fu to report our arrival and to ask advice as to our taking the next stage to that city. We waited and waited, but no return message ever came. We also wrote to our home people, as the mail communication had not to our knowledge been stopped. These postcards were received fifteen months later, September 11, 1901!
Meantime Mr. Cooper’s servant, a member of the Hung-tung Church who had attended him through from Hung-tung, returned from Pao-ting Fu. He reported that they had had the narrowest escape of being taken, and that it was only by forcing the stages in the concealment of a closed cart that they had got through at all. Mr. Cooper sent no letter by him in case he might be searched, for the penalty of anything foreign being found upon the person of a native was death. This lad was now returning home and suggested that we should return with him. We felt, however, that having come so far we ought not to think of returning unless we were absolutely compelled, and as yet the hope of getting through was not wholly shut out. I thought, too, that I ought to await my superintendent’s instructions until the latest moment.
Influenced by the boy’s report, Chi-fah now came to me and said that the risk of going on was too great, and that whatever I might choose to do, both he and Mrs. Chang felt that they must discourage the thought and refuse to accompany us. This was of course simply cutting the ground from under our feet. Our only chance of getting through (humanly speaking) was to be covered by trusty natives as Mr. Cooper had been. Failing that, it would be madness to go on.
Tidings, however of the gravest nature shortly reached us from Haui-luh. The Boxers had torn up the rails at Tientsin, cut the wires, and occupied the road between Tientsin and Cheng-ting Fn. Mr. Green also reported the murder of a large party, including several ladies, who had tried to escape by river boat from Pao-ting Fu to Tientsin. All hope of reaching our destination by that route was therefore now abandoned. The only other possible route was that to the East, via Lin-ts’ in Chao and the Grand Canal; but armed bands, rendered desperate by hunger, were scouring the road in that direction. These things taken together showed us that the only path now open to us was to return to Lu-an.
This conclusion was, however, settled out of hand by another circumstance. The secret of our presence in the city was out, and we could no longer be hid. In a heedless moment Mrs. Chang had gone out on the street one afternoon in company with Chi-fah. The impropriety of a woman on the city street at once attracted notice, and while the shape of her garments marked her as a stranger to those parts, her opened feet branded her as a “foreign devil.” From that time suspicion was excited and daily grew in intensity. The premises were visited by spies, and sullen groups hung all day about the doors. At length the rumors became so ugly that the landlord insisted on our leaving the house one and all, or the mob would pull it down about our ears.
Litters were accordingly engaged for the return journey to Lu-an. Not a moment too soon. Even as we were making ready the crowd were battering at the doors, and were only restrained from an actual outbreak by the tangible assurance afforded them by the litters that we were clearing out.
I think there is no doubt that another case of devil possession had not a little to do with precipitating our departure. The subject of these attacks was a young woman, the daughter of respectable, parents close by, who when under possession would sit in the middle of the road, heedless of traffic and everything else, pouring out torrents of vile talk. The foreign devil and his religion naturally came in for a full share. Such a nuisance had it become that her parents had sent her from home. But it so happened that a few days before we left she unexpectedly returned—and the devil with her. I can hear the uncanny cries even now as she sat cursing in the road outside the mission gate; and one could not help shuddering to think how materially such cries would help at such a time to feed the fears of superstition and fan the fires of hate.
It may or may not be true that coming events cast their shadows before. Certain it is, however, that a nameless dread took hold both of my wife and myself in the thought of that journey. I cannot explain it. I only know that I shrank inexpressibly from it, and would have given my right hand to have remained where we were. But it was all part of the lesson of obedience to the Father’s will which can only be learned through suffering (Heb. 5:8). Our leaving was a deep distress to our friends; but we had waited much upon God for the clear unfolding of His mind and none of us doubted that the step was of Him. The sorrow of the farewell, as we parted from our beloved brethren and sister and the little band of native Christians, was mutual. But it was inevitable, and the word was with us, “Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe in God, believe also in Me.”
Somewhat to our surprise and greatly to our relief, the crowd made no demonstration as we passed out into the street and on towards the city gate. Mr. Griffith kindly accompanied us on foot for about a mile, and then once more we were alone.
The muleteers had the strictest orders to take the high road, and to ensure this I had it inserted in the written agreement. The first stage was to their own home, for the purpose of completing their preparations (so they said) for the journey; and here we slept the first night. Whether this was a ruse of theirs to furnish an excuse for escaping the high road I cannot say. I only know it was a deviation, and a deviation that cost us dear.
Early the next morning, June 27, we were off again. It was not long before I saw to my indignation that they were taking the “small” road. Their excuse was ready enough. Having come thus far out of the way, they would have to take it for a short distance in order to strike the high road at the most convenient point. This was a deeper trial than any words can express. I could only see in it the old duplicity, and yet we were powerless to do anything. At the mercy of unprincipled men (as I believed), and with such a journey as the last to look forward to, my heart sank. But we were in our Father’s hand. He knew there were depths to be gone through deeper than we could conceive, and in view of this He was gently leading us on in the lesson of helplessness and trust.
We made the usual stage (about fifteen miles English) without annoyance, and halted for the midday meal and rest at a village town called I-ch’eng. All was quiet as we entered the inn yard, and we began to prepare the children’s food. The meal was not ready before the yard was filled with a pushing, curious crowd. It was no use to plead the heat of the day and the fatigue of travel. Every viewpoint was occupied. The rice paper was torn from the window of the small guestroom and every aperture framed a face.
This in itself would not have troubled us much. But with riot in the air we knew not what might lie behind. We had scarcely swallowed a bowl of food when Chi-fah came in and said, “We must be off at once, or I cannot answer for the consequences.” As quickly as might be, but without betraying undue haste, we settled ourselves once more in our litters, almost tided and wholly unrested. The crowd had now grown to immense proportions. The whole of that large village town seemed to be there thronging about us, following behind as we moved out of the inn yard and closely pressing us to the gate with an ominous silence. Suddenly, as we cleared the gate, a yell went up, “Foreign devils! kill them!” and a storm of stones and hard clay clods rained about the litters. A large stone caught my little boy full in the chest and knocked him flat. The dear little fellow cried bitterly, but he soon recovered, as I prayed with him and told him not to be afraid because God was with us. Several stones entered the litter, but I parried them with a pillow. The mules were hit and became very restive, so that I thought we should be turned over; but by shifting now to one side now to the other, I contrived to maintain the balance of the litter.
The framework now began to show signs of giving way under the shower of missiles. It would have been broken up ere this but for the unusual fact that the covering was formed of new straw mats over which, as a protection against the intense heat, we had thrown a thick cotton wool coverlet. The coverlets were torn off and the stones showered against the yielding straw.
Just as the mats were parting the litters were surrounded and the stoning all but ceased. A big, powerful man seized the mule’s head, and looking in at me ordered me to get out. I asked him what he wanted with me, and he said, “I have something to say to you; get down at once.” Knowing well enough that once down, I should never get up again I refused, and said, “If my respected elder brother wishes to say anything, I can listen to him just as well inside as out.”
“You are Roman Catholics,” he said; “get down, I tell you.”
“We are nothing of the sort; we abhor the Roman Catholic religion.”
“Not Roman Catholics! what are you then?”
“Our religion is the true religion of Jesus, and our doctrine the pure doctrine of God.”
The man turned to the crowd and said, “They are not T’ien Chu Ciao” (Roman Catholics), “they are Ie-su Kiao” (Protestants). “Let them go on.” Upon this there was a great outcry, and the greater part were for taking us back to the village. But the big strong man got hold of the mule’s bit and forced the litter on saying, “Off with you out of this place as fast as you can! We do not want you here.”
Only too thankful for this turn in events, I was just shouting in the man’s own words to the muleteers to hurry on with all speed, when Chi-fah rushed up, caught the animal’s head, and like one desperate forced him round.
“Is the Pastor talking madness” he said. “At all costs we must return to the village.” Return? Why, we had only just been stoned out of it. Surely this was only to court certain death. Again the feeling of utter helplessness, as we swung round in the very teeth of the raging mob; and again the consciousness that the Lord was there.
I had had no chance, of course, of communicating with my dear wife. How it had fared with her I could not tell, as she was behind. It was only when we turned round that I saw her litter in the midst of the surging crowd, battered and torn and all but a wreck. How I longed to say one word to her, and to know how the matter had gone with her and little Hope! In this way we were led back (quietly, to my surprise), just within the gate, and lodged within a small dark room behind a food shop. The litters were brought in and the doors shut on the crowd.
Here, at any rate, was silence after storm. It seemed wonderful to see that such a lull was possible. Now we could spread our bedding on the k’ang and speak one with the other in comparative quietness and rest. As we compared experiences we saw continual cause for thanksgiving. My dear wife had been kept in perfect peace all through. The stoning had been severe, and had bruised her about the arms as she was pitched, first to this side, then to that, against the bulging framework. But a song of praise was in her mouth as she told me that she saw a man load a pistol in a field close by, and that he was in the act of taking aim at her when he was hustled by those about him and the weapon knocked out of his hand. Whether this was accidental or otherwise it was impossible to say, but it was a signal deliverance from death, and together we gave God the glory.
For several hours we were left in comparative quiet. Food was brought, and my wife then took her opportunity of rest with the children, who were soon fast asleep. We heard the hubbub of the crowd outside, and the loud, suggestive battering at the street door; but no one was allowed in except a handful of men. As evening closed in, however, a side door was opened, and a continuous stream of men, women and children filled our tiny room until a late hour. The heat was stifling, and we were well-nigh exhausted with the strain of keeping up after such an anxious day. At last the room was cleared, and we could lie down in peace. Only, however, to find that we were being pelted at through the window just over the k’ang. The curtain I fixed up was almost immediately torn down, and I then blocked the window with a bundle of clothing.
All that night Chi-fah and Mrs. Chang sat in conclave with some four or five of the people’s representatives while I kept watch by the window. It was a night of alarms and fears. Every now and again Chi-fah came to tell me the result of the negotiations. They were demanding ransom money, and had fixed an impossible sum. The alternative was that we were to be handed over to the Boxers, two of whom were that night sleeping in the house. Five times at intervals during the night a gun was fired at the street door, to show us what we had to expect. Hands outside the window were trying to push the bundle back, and I thought it quite likely that they would shoot us as we lay on the k’ang. So I set my back against the bundle and gave myself to prayer. Thank God my wife was sleeping quietly with the children. What a long, long, weary night! And yet I dreaded inexpressibly the return of day.
In the small hours, while it was yet dark, Chi-fah came to me, his haggard face looking years older, and whispered, “The negotiations have failed. Our hope is in God alone.” Just at that moment my dear wife was rousing to wakefulness, and instantly divining the drift of things, asked, “What is Chi-fah saying to you? Tell me all.” Never shall I forget the perfect calmness with which she received the news, and then said, “Let us ask him and Mrs. Chang to join us in prayer while we can,” or the strength I received through the quiet utterance of her unfaltering faith as she herself prayed, “Father, glorify Thy name.” We then quietly discussed the situation, and the possibilities of escape suggested by our muleteers under cover of the darkness. The risk of leaving was, however, felt to be greater than that of staying; and with sinking hearts we abandoned our last hope. It was well we did so; for we learned in the course of the day that, in expectation of our making the attempt, liers in wait watched all night outside the village to kill us. Doubtless there was a plot to get rid of us, but characteristically in such a way that the clime should not be brought home to any responsible person. So we decided, if we had to die, we would die where we were, that the authorities might be compelled to take cognizance of the crime.
Very early, almost as soon as it was light, the crowds began to pour in upon us again. They even pressed on to the k’ang, pulling our things about and examining carefully all we had. Very few remarks were directly addressed to us; but we heard and saw enough to show us that we were more the objects of contempt than of curiosity. At length the proprietor appeared with one or two others, and in peremptory tones ordered every person out. No sooner was the room cleared than some dozen evil-looking men were admitted, who at once began a close and most offensive scrutiny. Chi-fah was not amongst them, to my dismay, and I could not imagine what had become of him. I was thankful to feel, however, that my wife was covered by Mrs. Chang, who sat by her on the k’ang, and answered for her. We were not troubled with many questions, but we were freely discussed and closely examined to see whether we had the marks which would identify us as devils.
A Boxer song of good literary style was having a great run at this time, in which the people were given to understand that foreigners were devils and not men, and that they might know it by certain marks, chief among which was the “blue eye.” A translation of this song was given in a copy of the Pekin and Tientsin Times early in the year (1900), where I first saw it. I here append the translation given by Mr. A. H. Savage-Landor in his work, China and the Allies (vol. 1, p. 15).
“God assist the I He Ch’üan (Volunteer Unionists),
The I Ho Ch’üan (Volunteer United Trained Bands).
It is because the foreign devils disturb the Middle Kingdom,
Urging the people to join their religion,
To turn their backs to Heaven,
Venerate not the gods and forget the ancestors.
Men violate the human obligations,
Woman commit adultery.
Foreign devils are not produced by mankind.
If you doubt this,
Look at them carefully.
The eyes of all foreign devils are bluish.
No rain falls,
The earth is getting dry.
This is because the Christian religion stops the heavens.
The gods are angry,
The genii are vexed,
Both are come down from the mountains
To deliver the doctrine.
This is not hearsay.
The practice will not be in vain,
To recite incantations and pronounce magic words.
Burn up the yellow written prayers,
Light the incense sticks,
To invite the gods and genii of all the grottoes (halls).
The gods will come out of the grottoes,
The genii will come down from the mountains,
And support the human bodies to practice the I Ho
Ch’üan.
When all the military accomplishments or tactics
Are fully learned,
It will not be difficult to exterminate the foreign devils
then.
Push aside the railway track,
Pull out the telegraph poles;
Immediately after this destroy the steamers.
The great France
Will fall cold and down-hearted (be vanquished),
The English and Russians will certainly disperse,
Let the various foreign devils
All be killed.
May the whole elegant
Empire of the great
Ching dynasty be ever prosperous!”
As they put their sinister faces close to ours and examined the color of our eyes, my heart sickened with fear and I trembled as they drew the children forward and said, “Look at these ‘siao kuei-tsï’” (little devils); “their eyes are as blue as the big ones’.” I cannot honestly say that I was, either now or at other times, exempt from the pain, whether mental or physical, that always attaches to the idea of suffering. To be innocent of the sensation of suffering is one thing, to be divinely sustained and strengthened uncle, the felt power of it is another. Speaking for myself, I learned to the full what it meant to be in “weakness and in fear, and in much trembling.” These pages must, if they are to be a faithful reflection of real experience, reveal it again and again. But I trust they will also reveal that we learned with it and by it the meaning of the Word, “When I am weak, then am I strong.”
It now seemed evident to me that the room had been cleared, and these men introduced, for one purpose only. The ransom demanded was not forthcoming, and the alternative was death. I saw in these men our executioners. Their awful faces were enough to discourage any other thought; but when one of them produced from behind his back two steel stabbers, bayonet shaped, and began toying with them before our eyes, all doubt was gone; and I could only pray God that He would now give us, each one, the special grace for such an hour. The suspense of this terrible moment was possibly the more agonizing that it was the first of many similar situations, and that the terrors of a violent death were at this time fresh to me.
The strain was relieved by the sudden appearance of Chi-fah. How I thanked God at seeing him again! But his face showed no sign of hope. “We are ordered to leave,” he said; “the proprietor refuses to keep us here any longer.” Without further ado the proprietor himself pushed in, snatched the coverlets from the k’ang, and, cursing us as he went, carried them outside. There was nothing for it. Without a word of remonstrance we made haste to follow.
A long narrow passage led from our room to the street front; and in single file we walked, as we believed, to our death. I placed my dear wife between Mrs. Chang and myself, bringing up the rear of our small band with little Hope in my arms, while Chi-fah led the way carrying Hedley. I observed that the evil gang kept with us, and that the man with the stabbers waited to fall in immediately behind me. I cannot give any idea of that short walk down the dark narrow passage from our prison house. If ever a man walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I did, in those five minutes. Many times were we called to pass that way within the next few weeks, but never was the anguish keener than now. I believed that the man meant to stab me from behind, and every moment I expected to feel the steel. My relief when we reached the street door, great as it was, was certainly not greater than my surprise. I could only suppose that, the proprietor having refused to stain his hands with our blood, we were to meet our end outside at the hands of the mob.
When we came to the street, however, the spectacle that met our gaze was one for which we were certainly not prepared. Dense masses of people lined the roadway on either side, but our appearance was greeted, not as yesterday by the sudden outcry of a riotous rabble, but by a silence so profound as to be awful to the sense. Not a sound escaped them. Surely this was but the calm before the storm; it seemed impossible that it could be otherwise than ominous of ill. A narrow pathway through the middle of the crowd showed our litters set down in the road, repaired and ready packed, the mules beside them, while just beyond, on a grassy knoll high above the crowd, stood a commanding figure in a white silk gown, motionless save for the slow flutter of his fan. It was the Ti-fang, or load magnate. I can see him now, standing like a statue with calm and dignified bearing, the center of the whole scene. The proprietor led us straight to our litters, where several men, the headmen of, the village, were standing, who directed us to get in Almost before we could settle ourselves on the bedding, we were hoisted to the mules’ backs, when to my amazement the Ti-fang came down from his vantage ground, and without a word himself took the leader’s bridle and led my wife’s litter to the village gate. Close behind him followed the headmen, one of whom led my litter in the same way. Not a soul of all that huge multitude moved from his place as we passed down the narrow lane they left for us. I thought of yesterday and how they had waited till we had cleared the gate before they set on us, and I fully expected that the reigning silence and restraint would give way to an increase of tumult and violence, the fiercer that they were baulked of their ransom money. Now we were outside the gate. Not a sound. The Ti-fang and village elders were still leading the animals, and the road behind us was deserted! In this way we were escorted to the boundary, when the Ti-fang made us a courteous bow and returned. The headmen remained with the professed intention of getting us a proper escort from the yamen, but not long after their chief’s withdrawal they also took their departure.
It is impossible to describe the state of our feelings when we found ourselves once more free and unmolested. The unexpectedness of the situation, after being face to face with death for some eighteen hours, and no hope of escape, was almost bewildering. It seemed too good to be true. We were both conscious that it was nothing else than a direct intervention of God on our behalf; and the joy of the deliverance swallowed up the sorrow of the affliction. A song of thanksgiving was in our mouth as we spoke with one another from our litters. It was only later, however, that we learned from Chi-fah how really miraculous our escape had been. There was nothing to account for the Ti-fang’s espousal of our cause. And that the people should have been held in as they were, unable to lift a finger against us—it was nothing but the work of God, His fear upon them. Again and again in our after experience we were permitted to see the same supernatural phenomenon; but this first manifestation of it, though by no means the most remarkable, left an impression peculiarly its own.