WESTERN CHRISTIAN ADVOCATE

March 8, 1876

BY OUR CHINA CORRESPONDENT

SHUI CHANG is a town of several thousand inhabitants, twenty-five miles west of Kiukiang. In the Spring of 1873, Rev. H. H. Hall endeavored to open a chapel in the place, but was compelled to abandon his purpose through the hostility of a few of the literati. These instigated the people to a riot, and the chapel furniture was destroyed, together with some one hundred and fifty dollars' worth of books. In the month of September, 1874, I visited the place, in company with our colporteur, and spent a day and a half in selling books, the people on the whole being quite civil, and in no instance offering us any molestation.

At our annual meeting we resolved to try a second time to plant the Gospel standard in the place. Negotiations were commenced for the opening of a chapel, and, after a suitable building had been found by the helper whom we designed stationing there, three of our number visited the town to complete arrangements for securing the premises for one year. The magistrate gave his consent to our opening a chapel; the Fang-tung, or proprietor of the house, was paid six-months' rent; and our helper, Chau, and his assistant, having been left in charge, the missionaries returned to Kiukiang. Twenty-four hours after they were followed by Chau and his companion, who reported that the people, incited by three of the native gentry, had driven them away, compelling them to take back the money which had been paid over as rent, and refusing to allow a chapel to be opened in their midst.

The idea of abandoning the work was not entertained for a moment. Under the provisions of the treaty between China and the United States, citizens of the latter are freely given permission to open chapels and schools in any part of the empire and to demand the protection of the civil authorities in so doing. And if we allowed our rights to be disregarded by the citizens of a town so near a treaty port as Shui-chang, it was useless to think of penetrating further into the interior. Accordingly, we directed Chau to hire a boat, load it with furniture for the chapel -- which had not yet been fitted up -- and to return with his assistant to Shui-chang, while two of us would go overland by chairs, and remain with him a few days. We took the precaution to secure a passport each before starting. We left Kiukiang in the morning, arriving at Shui-chang at five P.M. On reaching our "chapel," we found men grinding grain, and women in the back apartments engaged in domestic work. Directing our coolies to put down the chairs, we proceeded to hunt up the Fang-tung who seemed very much astonished, and declared the people would not permit him to let us come into his house.

We did not reason long with him, and started off for the magistrate's office, which was near the other end of the town. We were accompanied by Chau, who had just arrived with the boat, and by Pi, a young inquirer from Hunan. A crowd began to gather after us, and, as we passed through the main street, they raised the cry of "Oo-loo-loo-loo," which we had learned to distinguish as the rallying cry of a mob. We entered the

Yamun, which opened directly on the street, and sent in our cards by Pi, who soon returned, saying the magistrate was entertaining a friend, and could not receive us for some time. He also sent back our cards, which was a breach of Chinese etiquette. We stated our determination to wait until he was at leisure, and, after standing before the gaze of the crowd for half an hour, were taken into a small apartment belonging to one of the underlings of the place. The crowd gradually forced their way in until they had filled the rooms and court of the Yamun, while from the noise we could still hear them collecting in great numbers before the doors outside. By degrees they became bolder, and freely bestowed upon us insulting epithets. It was the duty of the officials to keep them outside, but this they declined to do, on pretext of want of power, but really because they secretly enjoyed the abuse to which we were subjected. So far we could easily see that the people, although considerably excited, were not at all infuriated, and we did not apprehend any violence to our persons. We sent to our "chapel" for our overcoats, and they were brought through the crowd, together with my small sachel, unmolested. We had as yet had no supper, and, as often as we solicited an audience with the magistrate, were put off with the announcement that he was not yet ready. The crowd outside became extremely noisy, and began to tear open the paper windows of the room in which we were sitting. The officials tried to disperse them by throwing water on them, but this only raised a laugh. Meanwhile our servant came in, saying our chair coolies had been driven out of the city. The magistrate at length appeared, and by his authority compelled the tumultuous throng to retire outside the Yamun, and, after having waited four long hours, we were at last granted an audience, he having evidently come to the conclusion that this was the only way to get rid of us.

Having been ushered into his room, we were seated with due ceremony -- keeping our hats on, Chinese fashion -- and through our assistant, Pi, made known our request. We desired from him, as magistrate of the city, an official proclamation prohibiting the people from molesting us in the occupation of our chapel. This he said he could not grant until he had first received instructions from the governor of the province. We reminded him of our treaty rights, which he acknowledged, but still refused to do any thing. Meanwhile the mob outside, becoming more violent, reentered the Yamun, and, finding Chau in the little room where we had left him, seized him and beat him shamefully. At length the more exasperated part of the mob threw themselves into the room where we were sitting. They were forced out again, but it was evident that they were being worked up into a pitch of fury which must soon bring our consultation to a close. We asked protection from the magistrate, saying we had our passports with us. He replied that he could not protect us, and declined to see our passports. We desired to stay in the Yamun until morning, but he declared that the only thing he would do for us would be to send an escort with us to our boat. "Will you go with us?" we asked. "Yes," he said, and proceeded to call his men. Pi, by this time, had become very much frightened, and he expostulated with us, saying we had offended the magistrate by our many words. We deliberated whether it would be prudent for us to venture out into the teeth of the mob, even with an escort; but we finally concluded there was no safety for us in the Yamun, if we chose to stay there all night, and in the morning we should still have the infuriated rabble to encounter. Just then poor Chau came in moaning and groaning, with his head bruised and his queue half pulled out, and we learned, for the first time, how he had been treated. We asked him if he was afraid to venture out with us, and he unhesitatingly said no, clinging to us, indeed, as his only friends. Our escort having been prepared, we put Chau before us, where we could protect him better, and started for the street. Pi we left behind us in the Yamun, knowing that he could best take care of himself.

On reaching the door of the Yamun, we found the entire street thronged with a howling mob, who yelled with delight as they saw us coming. Our boat was fully a mile away, and our escort was armed with nothing but lanterns. We were surrounded the moment we stepped outside, and the magistrate, after accompanying us a few steps, gallantly turned back to the Yamun for safety; and his example was gradually followed by all but two or three of the guard. The mob pressed on us, seizing our clothes and pulling us back, and trying desperately to get Chau away from us. We clung to him and to the officer in front of us, who we were determined should share in the violence we might receive, and dragged ourselves along the street in the direction of the river. Our hats were soon torn off, my sachel was gone before I knew it, and we made no attempt to rescue either. By degrees we worked our way on, amid shouts, blows, and kicks, and at length our guides turned off into a side alley which led to the outside of the city. I remembered, with a chill, a dilapidated brick wall by which the place was surrounded, but we had no time to determine whether any other direction would be safer. When we reached the end of the alley, we had a distance of a quarter of a mile to go, between the wall and the houses, with the mob roaring after us, and pretty soon the bricks began to fly. We were struck several times, and one came against my head with such violence as to lay the skin open. The night was very dark, but the lanterns which our protectors carried showed the mob where to strike. Presently brother Hykes, my companion, looked up into my face and exclaimed. "O my God! your head is all bloody." Fearing he was giving way to despair, I desired him, rather impatiently, not to be wasting his pity, but to press on. In a moment he, too, was struck on the head with a brickbat. The mob succeeded in getting Chau out of our grasp, and, throwing him down on the ground, they began beating him.

We saw we could not render him the slightest assistance, and yet it was with a feeling of meanness in our heart that we left him, as we feared, to die, and turned to flee for our lives. Only one man of our escort now remained with us, and a brickbat dashed out his lantern. "Run, or they'll kill you!" he exclaimed, and, taking each other by the hand that we might not become separated, we did run. As we stooped to protect our heads, the bricks continued to fly over and around us like hail, and one struck brother Hykes fair on his back. But his heavy overcoat protected him. The chances for life and life and death seemed about equal. The intense excitement of the moment had stimulated every faculty to the utmost stretch. In our hurry we dashed through an entrance which took us back into the city, and we were compelled to turn square off and go out again through a large gate. The mob were already pouring in to meet us, and we had to face them squarely. I hallooed at them and brandished my cane, and we tore our way through them. Now we were at the end of the city, with the howling multitude still at our heels, and pelting us by the aid of their lanterns. We knew that, if we succeeded in

getting away in the dark, we were rescued; so, leaving the paved road, we struck off at right angles to the fields. A few steps, and we plunged headlong into a deep stream of water. I rose to the surface without having touched bottom, and with a great gulp of water in my stomach. Still, the stream was but a few yards across, and the mob could not follow us over. But they collected on the bank we had just left, and, while one of their number held a lantern, the others pelted us with stones and bricks as we were struggling in the water. We worked our way to the opposite bank, and found it very steep and covered with slime. It was all we could do to drag ourselves out, but we at last succeeded. As we raised ourselves to our feet, with every thread of our heavy clothes soaked and dripping, we almost sank to the ground again through sheer exhaustion. Never before had we seemed so utterly helpless; and it was well for us that we were out of reach of our pursuers.

We now felt comparatively safe, but the prospect before us was still dismal enough. It was midnight, and so dark we could not see the ground; we were so tired we could scarcely put one foot before the other, and yet we must find our boat, or pass the night in our wretched condition. And, worst of all, we feared that poor Chau had been beaten to death. We trudged on a little way and stumbled into a ditch six or eight feet in depth, with plenty of mud and water at the bottom. Crawling out on the other side, we wandered on across the fields, "with tottering steps and slow," until we neared the bank of the little river in which our boat was somewhere anchored. Some men with lanterns came toward us, and, as we kept dodging around to avoid them, we discovered to our consternation that they were searching for us. Our minds were a little relieved, however, at hearing them call out in a friendly tone, "yan jen!" (foreigner), instead of that other epithet which the missionary so often hears. We accosted them, but could not make them understand what we wanted, nor indeed were they very ready to extend to us much assistance without the promise of a few hundred cash, which was doubtless what they were expecting. Luckily, we were soon met by one of the men belonging to our boat, and he conducted us to where it was lying. Going on board we were silently rowed away, and, after reaching a safe distance, the boatman struck a light, and we gladly took off our wet clothing and crawled under the dry blankets, which had been brought from home for bedding. On taking out my watch I was delighted to find that it had come through fire and flood uninjured, and was faithfully ticking away, the hands pointing to a quarter of one o'clock. We were so well provided with blankets that we lay very comfortably until morning, and actually escaped taking cold. The boatmen rowed several miles before they stopped for daylight, and at the first streaks of dawn they were again at their oars. We were exceedingly anxious for Chau, but there was no one to send back for him, and the only thing we could do was to return to Kiukiang. We were greatly delighted, not many days after, at the return of Chau, who, although badly bruised, was happy enough to find himself alive.