CHAPTER XII
SOJOURN IN CHINA AND RETURN
Prior to the Civil War, Mr. Gouverneur received an appointment from
James Buchanan as U.S. Consul to Foo Chow in China, and I decided to
accompany him upon his long journey. Meanwhile a second daughter had
been added to our family, much to the disappointment of the large circle
of relatives who were still anxiously expecting me to hand down the name
of Gouverneur. We named her Ruth Monroe. We took passage upon the
clipper ship _Indiaman_, a vessel of heavy tonnage sailing from New York
and commanded by a "down-east" skipper named Smith. No railroads crossed
the American continent in those days, and the voyage to the far East had
to be made either around Cape Horn or by way of the Isthmus of Panama or
around the Cape of Good Hope. We selected the latter route, leaving New
York in October and arriving in Shanghai the following March. My
preparations for such a protracted journey with two very young children
were carefully and even elaborately planned but, to my dismay, some of
the most important articles of food for the childrens' diet became unfit
for use long before we reached our destination. As one may readily
imagine, I was accordingly put to my wits' end for substitutes. We also
provided ourselves with a goodly amount of literature, and more
particularly books relating to China, among which were Father Evariste
Régis Huc's volume on "The Chinese Empire," and Professor S. Wells
Williams's work on "The Middle Kingdom." We read these _en route_ with
great interest but discovered after a few months' residence in the East
that no book or pen we then knew conveyed an adequate idea of that
remarkable country.
We had a very favorable voyage, and sailing in the trade winds in the
Southern hemisphere was to me the very acme of bliss. I was thoroughly
in sympathy with the passage of Humboldt where he speaks of the tropical
skies and vegetation in the following beautiful manner:--"He on whom the
Southern Cross has never gleamed nor the Centaur frowned, above whom the
clouds of Magellan have never circled, who has never stood within the
shadow of great palms, nor clothed himself with the gloom of the
primeval forests, does not know how the soul seems to have a new birth
in the midst of these new and splendid surroundings. Nowhere but under
the equatorial skies is it permitted to man to behold at once and in the
same sweep of the eye all the stars of both the Northern and Southern
heavens; and nowhere but at the tropics does nature combine to produce
the various forms of vegetation that are parceled out separately to
other climes."
The patience of our captain was sorely tried by the lack of wind while
passing through the Doldrums. This nautical locality, varying in breadth
from sixty to several hundred miles and shifting in extreme limits at
different seasons of the year, is near the equator and abounds in calms,
squalls and light, baffling winds which sometimes prevent the progress
of sailing vessels for weeks at a time. When we finally emerged from the
Doldrums, we were compensated for the trying delay by greeting the trade
winds so cherished by the hearts of mariners. We sailed many leagues
south of the Cape of Good Hope and much too far away even to catch a
glimpse of it, but we realized its proximity by the presence of the Cape
pigeons which hovered around our vessel. The albatross was also our
daily visitor and one or two of them were caught by the sailors,
regardless of the superstition of possible calamity attending such an
act. Our only stop during the long voyage was at the Moluccas or Spice
Islands, in the Malay Peninsula, and was made at the request of the
passengers who were desirous of exploring the beauties of that tropical
region. The waters surrounding these islands were as calm as a lake and
all around our ship floated the débris of spices. The vegetation was
more beautiful than I can describe and the shells which covered the
shores were eagerly collected by the passengers.
Our fellow voyagers were four missionaries, who on Sundays conducted
divine service, and a Mr. Pemberton, a young Canadian who was _en
voyage_ to join the _Hong_ of Purden and Company in Shanghai. In these
early days it was the custom of parents of refractory or adventurous
sons to place them on board sailing vessels for lengthy outings.
Occasionally they were sent upon whaling voyages, where the hardships
were greater and the voyage more prolonged. On the _Indiaman_ there were
several of these youths and it was quite pathetic as well as comical to
see them ascend the rigging amid the jeers of a well-disciplined crew.
One of them, whose father had occupied an official position in the City
of New York, had been quite a society "swell" and claimed acquaintance
with me. At times he was required by the captain to hold my younger
child, a mere babe, in the arms. Every now and then we were startled by
her shrieks and for quite a time we could not detect the cause until we
finally discovered that his task was uncongenial and that, in order to
get rid of his charge, the incorrigible youth had administered an
occasional pinch.
One Sunday afternoon while sailing in the Indian Ocean we had a narrow
escape from shipwreck. Every sail was set to catch the least breath of
air, and Mr. Gouverneur and the children were on deck with the captain,
when in the distance they saw what seemed to resemble a huge wall. The
moment the experienced eye of our skipper saw it he exclaimed, "My God,
we are gone!" It slowly but surely approached our ship and when it
reached us its force was so great that our sails almost dipped into the
ocean. The ship, however, gradually righted itself and we were naturally
more than grateful for our deliverance. I chanced to be resting in my
cabin at the perilous moment and in a most unceremonious manner was
thrown to the floor. After reaching the mouth of that stupendous river,
the Yangtze Kiang, we thought our long voyage was nearly ended, but we
soon discovered that we had not yet "crossed the Rubicon," and that
trouble was still in store for us. We had just passed the mouth of this
river and cast anchor when, to our surprise and dismay, we encountered a
severe storm, and during the night dragged anchor for about twenty
miles. The morning, however, dawned bright and clear, but our captain,
who had lost his temper during the storm, did not accord the Chinese
pilots who boarded us a very gracious reception. This was my first
glimpse of the Chinese within the limits of their own domain.
When we reached the city of Shanghai it was quite dark, but we found
coolies awaiting us with chairs. I shall never forget my first
impressions of China. All of my anticipations of the beautiful Orient
were fully realized, and, as I was carried through the crowded streets,
visions of the Arabian Nights enchanted me and it seemed to me a
veritable region of delight. The streets of Shanghai, however, after the
broad thoroughfares of Washington, appeared like small and complicated
pathways. They were not lighted with public lamps at this time, but
myriads of lanterns of every conceivable shape and color carried by
wayfarers met the eye at every turn and made the whole scene appear like
fairyland. But, alas, the following morning I was undeceived, for
daylight revealed to my vision a very squalid and dirty city. We were
carried to the largest hotel in Shanghai, where it seemed as though I
were almost receiving a home greeting when the sign over the door told
me that it was the Astor House! Still another surprise awaited me.
Although in a strange land, one of the first persons to welcome me was a
former acquaintance, the wife of Mr. Robert Morrison Olyphant, the head
of the prominent _Hong_ of Olyphant and Company. Her maiden name was
Anna O. Vernon and I had formerly known her quite well in New York and
Newport.
We did not linger long in Shanghai, but embraced the first opportunity
to reach Foo Chow. It was a coast voyage of several days and was
attended with much discomfort, as the choppy seas through which we
sailed made all of us very ill--a remarkable experience, considering the
fact that during the whole of our protracted voyage we had not suffered
an uncomfortable moment. We reached Foo Chow, however, in due time, and
Mr. Gouverneur at once assumed his official duties. Foo Chow is called
by the natives _Hok Chiu_, or "Happy City." It is also what is termed a
"Foo-City," signifying a place of the largest magnitude, and was the
sole Chinese port where royalty was represented. It is situated upon the
Min River, about twenty-five miles from its mouth, and is the capital of
the Province of Fokien. The navigation of the river Min was regarded as
dangerous, and the insurance rates for vessels navigating it were higher
than those of any other Chinese port. The place is surrounded by
castellated walls nine or ten miles in circumference, outside of which
are suburbs as extensive as the city itself. Its walls are about thirty
feet high and twelve wide at the top. Its seven gates are overlooked by
high towers, while small guardhouses stand at frequent intervals along
the walls.
Upon our arrival in Foo Chow we found no house provided for the U.S.
Consul, and immediately made our residence with a missionary family,
where we were most comfortable, until the _Hong_ of Augustus Heard and
Company provided us with a residence for which we paid rent. The English
government took better care of its representative. Not far from us was
the British Consulate, a fine building reminding one in certain respects
of the White House. In another residence near by, and provided by his
government, lived the British interpreter, a Scotchman named Milne.
Walter H. Medhurst, the British Consul, and his interpreter were
descendants of early English missionaries. We found Foo Chow to be a
somewhat lawless city. Many of its inhabitants were mountaineers from
the surrounding region who had become pretty well starved out and had
found their way into the city. As a result of their early training, they
gave the authorities much trouble.
I was naturally much impressed by some of the novel and curious customs
then prevalent. The seat of honor assigned a guest was on the left of
the host. The uncovered head for a man was a mark of disrespect and a
servant would accordingly be severely reprimanded if he appeared before
his master with his hat off. Persons in mourning wore white, in striking
contrast with the somber apparel used by ourselves. The shoe polish in
vogue was a chalky white substance. From these and other examples it can
readily be seen I was justified in feeling that I had been transferred
to another planet and had left "dull earth behind me." When we reached
Foo Chow, the gorgeous flowers and other vegetation were at their best.
The month of April was a season set apart by the Chinese to decorate
with flowers the graves of their ancestors; and coming from a land where
such a ceremony was unknown, it impressed me as a beautiful custom. It
suggests, moreover, the inquiry as to whether it was from the Chinese,
or from an innate conviction of the beautiful sentiment demanding an
outward expression, that induced the descendants of the Blue and the
Gray, at a later period, to strew with flowers the last resting-places
of those whose memories they delighted to honor.
Next door to the U.S. Consulate lived a Parsee named Botelwalla, who was
an English subject. He never uncovered his head, and his tarpaulin hat
carried me back to the pictures in my geography while studying at Miss
Forbes's school. He was extensively engaged in the opium trade, and had
large quantities of it stored in his dwelling. One day he came to our
home to make a social visit and, taking it for granted that he was a
fire-worshiper, I inquired whether he came from Persia. He told me that
twelve hundred years ago his family emigrated from that country to
India, where their descendants had since resided. I recall an incident
which convinced me at the time that he was not a consistent follower of
his own religion. Mr. Gouverneur noticed smoke issuing one day from what
he thought was a remote portion of the Botelwalla home, and immediately
called out to the Parsee from an adjoining window that his house was on
fire. Without a moment's hesitation, he got all of his family together,
and for a while they worked most strenuously to subdue the flames and to
save from destruction the hundred thousand dollars' worth of opium
lodged in the Parsee's home. Somewhat later we were surprised to learn
that it was our own kitchen which was on fire. Our ignorance was due to
the fact that the walls of the two houses were so irregular and so oddly
constructed that it was at first exceedingly difficult, upon a
superficial view, to distinguish certain portions of our own home from
those of our neighbor. The one feature, however, connected with the fire
which impressed us most forcibly was the fact that Botelwalla, our
neighbor and fire-worshiper, did not allow his religious scruples to
interfere with the safety of his valuable personal possessions. My
attention, as well as admiration, was frequently directed to a number of
superb India cashmere shawls which I often saw airing on his upper
veranda and which, I think, were used for bed coverings.
Soon after his arrival in Foo Chow, Mr. Gouverneur was fortunate in
securing the services of a Chinese interpreter named Ling Kein, a
mandarin of high order, who wore the "blue button," significant of his
rank. In addition to this distinction he wore on his hat the peacock
feather, an official reward of merit. He was a Chinese of remarkable
intelligence, well versed in English as well as in the Chinese
vernacular, and was also the master of several dialects. He surprised me
by his familiarity with New York, and upon inquiry I learned that he had
once taken a junk into that port, which was naturally regarded with
great curiosity by the Gothamites. He remembered many prominent New
Yorkers, one of whom was Daniel Lord, the distinguished lawyer, whom he
had met in a professional relation. He also recalled my old friend and
Mr. Gouverneur's kinsman, William Kemble, who lived next door to Mr.
Lord opposite St. John's Park. Ling Kein and his family lived in our
house, but they led such secluded lives that I seldom saw them; indeed,
we never laid eyes upon our interpreter except when his presence was
required. He was not in the employ of our government, but his salary of
one hundred dollars a month was paid from my husband's private means.
His services were invaluable and when we first began housekeeping he
secured our domestic staff for us. The butler was Ning Ping, a
Christianized Chinese, who took entire charge of the
establishment--going to market, regulating the servants and even handing
them their wages. For his services he received four dollars a month.
I found this mode of life ideally pleasant and easy until I heard an
uproar one day in the servants' quarters in which my two nurses seemed
to be involved. I was entirely ignorant as to the cause of the commotion
and for some time held my peace, as one of the first lessons I learned
in China was not to probe too deeply into domestic affairs, since one
derived but little satisfaction from the attempt. As the confusion
continued, however, I summoned Ling Kein in order to ascertain the cause
of it. It seems that Ning Ping had paid the women their wages in Mexican
dollars which were not of the proper weight. There prevailed a crafty
method of clipping or punching the coins, and this dishonest Chinaman
had taken advantage of those whom he thought to be simply
unsophisticated women. The trouble was finally quelled by an agreement
that in future I should personally pay the nurses their wages. I gave
each of these women four dollars a month for their services. Our cook,
Ting Ting, who was a chef, and the four coolies, who were the chair
bearers, were also paid four dollars a month each. The gatekeeper, whose
duties were to open and close the front gate and to look after the
chairs of visitors, received a similar sum for his services. I also
employed by the month a native tailor, whose sole requirements for his
work were a chair and a table. He did the entire sewing of the
establishment and charged four dollars a month for his labor. At least
one of my experiences with him failed to confirm the extraordinary
powers of imitation possessed by the Chinese, for upon one occasion when
I trusted him with a handsome garment, with strict injunctions to follow
the model I gave him, he completely ignored my instructions and carried
out his own designs.
Fortunately for us, this retinue of retainers provided its own food and
clothing, and I was in blissful ignorance as to where they stowed
themselves away for the night. A laundryman called once a week for our
clothes and his charges were two dollars a hundred for articles of every
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
the British Consulate reenter our courtyard. We were informed that
Medhurst had weakened and refused to receive his share of the
"Kumshaws." Mr. Gouverneur was much annoyed by such vacillating conduct
and immediately notified the British Consul in emphatic language that if
he refused to accept the piratical gifts he would regard it as a
personal matter. This had the desired effect and a second time the
procession wended its way to the British Consulate. The boxes proved to
contain hams, rock candy, dates and other provisions which we
immediately sent to the American missionaries, while the sheep were
given to Mr. Sloane to do with them whatever he pleased. We found this
gentleman throughout our Chinese life to be a man of superior judgment
and an agreeable companion. After a long and successful career in the
East, he died in China just on the eve of his embarkation for America.
He never married and many years later I had the pleasure of becoming
acquainted with his brother, Samuel Sloane, the railroad magnate, at
Garrison's-on-the-Hudson; and, owing to our agreeable association with
his brother, both Mr. and Mrs. Sloane always welcomed me with great
cordiality.
I have already referred to Commander (afterwards Rear Admiral) James F.
Schenck, U.S.N. Our association with him in Foo Chow was highly
agreeable. He was our frequent guest at the Consulate and we soon
discovered in him a man of rare wit; indeed, I have understood that
fifty years ago he was considered the most clever _raconteur_ in the
Navy. Commander Schenck's Executive Officer on the _Adams_ was
Lieutenant James J. Waddell, whom we regarded as a pleasing and
congenial guest. Subsequent to his life in Eastern waters, his career
was unusually interesting. He was a native of North Carolina and,
resigning his commission in the United States service at the opening of
the Civil War, subsequently entered the Confederate Navy, where he was
finally assigned to the command of the celebrated cruiser _Shenandoah_.
This ship, formerly the British merchantman _Sea King_, was bought in
England for £45,000 by James D. Bulloch, the Naval Agent of the Southern
Confederacy in Great Britain, to take the place of the _Alabama_, which
had been sunk by the _Kearsarge_ in June, 1864. She left London in the
fall of the same year and fitted out as an armed cruiser off Madeira.
She then went to Australia and, after cruising in various parts of the
Pacific, sailed for Behring Sea and the Arctic Ocean, where she met with
remarkable success in her depredations upon Northern shipping. She
captured thirty-eight vessels, mostly whalers, and the actual losses
inflicted by her were only sixty thousand dollars less than those
charged to the _Alabama_. Captain Waddell first heard of the downfall of
the Confederacy when off the coast of Lower California on the 2d of
August, 1865--between three and four months after the event--and, as he
had captured in that interval about a dozen ships and realized that his
acts might be regarded as piratical, he sailed for England where, early
in November, he surrendered the _Shenandoah_ to the British government.
She was turned over to the United States, was subsequently sold to the
Sultan of Zanzibar and was lost in 1879 in the Indian Ocean. She was the
only ship that carried the flag of the Confederacy around the world. In
December, 1861, Captain Waddell married a daughter of James Iglehart of
Annapolis, and died in that city a number of years ago.
The American Consulate was the rendezvous of all Naval officers who came
into port, and I recall with gratification Lieutenant John J. B.
Walbach, a son of Colonel John DeBarth Walbach, a well-known officer of
the Army, Dr. Philip Lansdale, Dr. Benjamin F. Gibbs, Lieutenant George
M. Blodgett and Lieutenant (afterwards Rear Admiral) John C. Beaumont.
The latter was frequently my guest in Washington after my return to
America, and Doctors Lansdale and Gibbs I met again at the Capital,
where we took pleasure in discussing our Chinese observations and
experiences. While in China I also became acquainted with Captain and
Mrs. Eliphalet Nott of Schenectady, the former of whom was a nephew of
the venerable President Eliphalet Nott of Union College. He commanded
his own vessel, the _Don Quixote_, and was usually accompanied on his
voyages by his wife--a mode of life that impressed me as quite ideal.
One day as I was passing through the streets of Foo Chow my attention
was directed to a gayly-dressed woman seated in a chair decked with
flowers. I was informed that she was a Chinese widow who was about to
sacrifice herself upon the pyre in accordance with the custom of the
country. I subsequently learned that when this woman reached the place
appointed for the ceremony, she found an immense assemblage, including
many mandarins and her own brother, the latter of whom had agreed to
apply the torch that should launch her into eternity. The crowd,
however, was disappointed, for at the last moment her courage failed her
and she announced that she must return home at once as she had forgotten
to feed her pig! The woman's life was saved, but the disappointment of
the throng found expression in a riot which, however, was speedily
quelled by the authorities.
The Chinese nation was the victim of an outrageous wrong, and the
perpetrators were Americans and Englishmen whose unquenchable avarice
overcame their moral convictions. I refer to the iniquitous manner in
which opium was introduced into the country and subsequently sold to the
natives. Large fortunes were accumulated in this way, but it was nothing
more nor less than "blood money" wrung from the pockets of those who had
a right to expect better things from the representatives of Christian
countries. China at this time was unable to cope by force with the
Western nations, but she did not renounce the right to protect herself
from this outrage without a struggle. When, however, she asserted this
right, as she did on a certain occasion by seizing and burning the
deadly drug, she made herself liable for heavy indemnities and was
compelled to abandon the unequal struggle. In consequence of this act,
six hundred thousand dollars passed through Mr. Gouverneur's hands as
U.S. Consul. Even in recent years the Chinese Emperor has sought to
protect his subjects from the evils of opium. When I lived in China,
Congo tea was cultivated around Foo Chow, but in time it was abandoned
and the poppy took its place. A few years ago an edict was issued
prohibiting the cultivation of this flower and I understand that tea is
again a product of this region. When I resided in Foo Chow, some of the
most prominent business houses were involved in the smuggling of opium,
and one very large and wealthy firm--that of Jardine and
Matthewson--actually employed a heavily armed gunboat to assist it in
the accomplishment of this colossal outrage. It will be remembered that
when Li Hung Chang, then one of the richest men in the world, visited
this country a few years ago he frequently asked the wealthy men whom he
met where they got their money. Whether or not he had in mind at the
time the manner in which certain American and English fortunes had been
accumulated in his native land does not appear; but if his question had
been directed to the heads of some of the business houses in Foo Chow
and elsewhere in China while I was there, it certainly would have
produced, to say the least, no little embarrassment.
Poor China has suffered much from the impositions and depredations of
foreigners. Pillage and theft have marked the paths of foreign invaders
in a manner wholly inconsistent with the code of honorable warfare, and
acts have been committed that would never be tolerated in conflicts
between Western nations. It was said that the title of Comte de Pelikao
was conferred by Louis Napoleon upon General Charles Montauban for
having presented the Empress Eugénie with some superb black pearls taken
from the Imperial Summer Palace when it was looted in 1860. At the same
time and in the same manner also disappeared many almost priceless gems,
costly articles of _vertu_, treasures in gold and silver and a wealth of
ancient manuscripts; while similar outrages were ruthlessly perpetrated
in the same unfortunate city only a few years ago as the closing chapter
in the Boxer troubles. Unhappy China! She has felt the aggressive hand
of her Western "brothers" ever since the unwilling invasion of her
shores.
About this time China was the resort of many adventurous Americans, some
of whom doubtless "left their country for their country's good," with a
view of seeking their fortunes. We became very well acquainted with a
New Yorker named Augustus Joseph Francis Harrison, a master of a craft
sailing in Chinese waters. His early life had been spent in Morrisania
in New York, where he had become familiar with the name of my husband's
relative, Gouverneur Morris, and was thus led to seek our acquaintance.
One day he came to the Consulate apparently in ill health and told us he
was in a serious condition. It seems that he had employed an English
physician whose violent remedies had failed to benefit him and had
prompted him to declare that he had been mistaken for a horse! He begged
us for shelter and we accordingly gave him a room and retained him at
the Consulate as our guest. We knew but little of medical remedies, but
we did the best for him we could, and in due time were delighted to see
that our patient was convalescing. One day my husband and my daughter
Maud visited him in his room and, as a token of gratitude, he presented
to the little girl the "Pirates' God," one of his most cherished
treasures--a curious idol, which is still in her possession. On the back
of it he wrote the following history:--"This idol, together with the
whole contents of two large pirate boats, was captured after a severe
fight of three hours, they having undertaken to take us by surprise;
consequently thirty or forty were killed. The rest made good their
escape by jumping overboard and swimming ashore. The boats and contents,
too, were sold."
Foo Chow was a region frequently visited by typhoons, in consequence of
which a municipal law required houses to be but one story high. During
the latter part of our residence in China we experienced the terrors of
a storm remarkable for its severity and in the course of which a portion
of the Consulate was blown down. After spending some anxious hours in an
underground passage in the middle of the night, we were finally obliged
to take refuge in the _Hong_ of Augustus Heard and Company. I shall
never forget, as we sat in this lonely cellar with the elements raging
above us, the imploring cries of my young children, "I want to go home."
It was while this storm was raging that Mr. Gouverneur received the
following note from George J. Weller, the representative of this
well-known firm:--
My dear Mr. Gouverneur,
The Barometer is going up--the wind will probably abate a
little soon, and perhaps then Mrs. G. and the children can
come. _Make_ the coolies carry the chair. Three can do it.
The semi-tropical climate of Foo Chow, however, did not agree with Mr.
Gouverneur, in consequence of which we decided to return home. His
campaign during the Mexican War had made serious inroads upon his
health, from which he never entirely recovered. It was hoped that his
life in the East would be beneficial, but it proved otherwise.
Meanwhile, the Civil War was raging in the United States, but the news
concerning it was very stale long before it reached us. We did not
receive the particulars of the battle of Bull Run, for example, until
three months after its occurrence. In view of the turbulent state of
affairs at home, the government thought it important that Mr. Gouverneur
should remain at his post of duty until the arrival of his successor,
and he decided to do so. During these days of uncertainty, however, my
husband deemed it wise that, if possible, I should return with the
children on a ship sailing under the protection of the British flag, and
I quite agreed with him. In due time the favorable opportunity presented
itself, and I embarked for America in the British merchantman _Mirage_.
The wisdom of Mr. Gouverneur's judgment was fully confirmed, as the next
American vessel sailing from Foo Chow after my departure was captured by
a Confederate privateer. When I went to China I took two little girls
with me, and returned with three. At the birth of the last daughter we
named her "Rose de Chine," in order to identify her more intimately with
the land of her nativity. Soon after her birth, several Chinese asked
me: "How many girls do you keep?"
We were the only passengers on the _Mirage_ and, besides having very
superior accommodations on board, we were treated with every
consideration by its captain. We were three months upon the homeward
voyage and the captain called it smooth sailing. We fell in with many
vessels _en route_ and, to quote our skipper, we found them "like human
beings, some very friendly and others stern and curt." When in mid-ocean
we passed an American vessel, the _Anna Decatur_, which seemed like a
welcome from home as it was named after a former New York friend of
mine, Anna Pine Decatur, a niece of Commodore Stephen Decatur, who
married Captain William H. Parsons of the merchant service. Lieutenant
Stephen Decatur, U.S.N., a brother of Anna Pine Decatur, was a constant
visitor at our house in Houston Street in my young days. During one of
his cruises he was stricken with a serious illness which resulted in
total blindness. He subsequently married but, although he never had the
pleasure of seeing his wife and children, his genial nature was not
changed by his affliction. In 1869 he became a Commodore on the retired
list, but some of the family connection objected to his use of this
title, as in their opinion the world should recognize only one Commodore
Stephen Decatur, the naval hero of 1812.
As we neared New York harbor I became decidedly impatient and was
congratulating myself one morning that our long voyage was almost over,
when I noticed that the usually pleasant expression on the captain's
face had changed to one of extreme anxiety. I inquired: "What is wrong,
Captain?" and to my dismay he replied: "Everything!" He then told me we
were just outside the pilot grounds, but that in all his experience,
even in Chinese waters, he had never known the barometer to fall so low;
and, to add to his anxiety, there was no pilot within sight! It was a
very cold February morning, the thermometer having reached the zero
mark, and I went at once to my cabin to prepare for the worst. The
captain meanwhile commenced to make preparations for a severe storm, but
before we realized it the tempest was upon us and our vessel was blown
far out to sea, where for three days we were at the mercy of the
elements. The rudder was tied, the hatches battened down and there was
nothing left to do but to sit with folded hands and trust to that
Providence whom even the waters obey.
[Illustration: MRS. GOUVERNEUR'S THREE DAUGHTERS.
_Miss Gouverneur, Mrs. Roswell Randall Hoes, Mrs. William Crawford
Johnson._]
I remember sitting in my stateroom one of those terrible nights entirely
alone and without even the comforting sound of a human voice. Our life
preservers were within reach, but I fully realized that they would be of
but little avail in such a raging sea. During those anxious moments,
with my little children sound asleep in the adjoining cabin and quite
oblivious of impending danger, I wondered whether it would be my destiny
to close my earthly career on Rockaway Beach, near the spot where I had
first seen the light of day; but soon after those anxious moments I was
indeed grateful, as the captain told me that if the wind had been in
another quarter all of us would have perished within a few hours.
Gradually the winds and storm ceased and, the waters becoming calmer, we
finally reached our haven without even being subjected to the annoying
presence of a Custom House official, as the high seas had prevented his
visit. When I reached land I learned that the awful storm had extended
along the whole eastern coast and had carried death and devastation in
its track. The children and I were driven to my mother's late residence,
57 West Thirty-sixth Street, but she was no longer there to greet me, as
she had passed into the Great Beyond the year before my return; but my
sister Charlotte and my brother Malcolm were still living there, both of
whom were unmarried. I had received such kindness from the captain of
the _Mirage_ during the homeward voyage that I felt I should like to
make some fitting return, and accordingly his wife and daughter became
my guests.