CHAPTER IX.IN THE AUGUST PRESENCE OF THE TAO TAI—THE PRIVILEGED GUESTS AT AN EXECUTION—FANATICS PURSUE THE “FOREIGN DEVILS.”At 8 o’clock on the evening of March 4 our boat moored at the locks of the Grand Canal at Su Chow, but the hour was so late and the streets appeared so dirty and uncertain, that Mrs. McIlrath and I remained on board until morning. Su Chow is a typical Chinese city, and our entrance thereto was an event to the natives. Immediately after breakfast I dispatched a message to the Tao Tai, bearing one of my Chinese cards and the mysterious packet. In an hour the messenger returned accompanied by four chair bearers and a score of soldiers. They were to conduct us into the presence of the Tao Tai. The mandarin received us in state robes, seated upon a high chair, and over his head was held a large umbrella. As we approached him, he graciously descended from his throne and saluted us with a low bow. Mr. Charles Lewis, an American trader, acted as interpreter, and as he spoke Chinese fluently, the mystery of the document and our reception at the palace was soon explained. Mrs. McIlrath and I were not only to see more of Chinese customs, but were the guests of the mandarin. The document further specified that we should witness the execution of a woman who had murdered two others on account of her husband, and at the palace we were to remain until orders came for the execution. “Seng chee” was the mode of death to which the woman was sentenced. This meant “thirty-six cuts,” so inflicted upon the body as to terribly mutilate but not prove immediately fatal. The order for execution did not arrive until March 7. The intervening days, spent in the palace from the time of our arrival, were devoted to our express entertainment, a Chinese boy who spoke English well having been brought from Shanghai expressly to serve as our interpreter and guide.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.[Outline map showing route of the McIlraths across Asia.]It was he who awakened us on the morning of the execution with the news that “the papers” had come. Mrs. McIlrath had no wish to view the horrible scene soon to be enacted, and as I left the room she hid her face within her hands and begged me not to mention the proceedings upon my return. The mandarin awaited me in the state room, and with much forethought had ordered two bottles of champagne with which to brace our nerves. A moment later we were on our way to the court yard in the rear of the palace, a retinue of soldiers surrounding us. Two guards dragged the woman directly before the pavilion we occupied. She fell to her knees, and as she beat the ground with her forehead, begging for mercy, the mandarin’s secretary read a few words from a scroll, and the poor wretch wassentenced. Two soldiers tied the woman to a post in an upright position, her feet resting upon a heavy block of wood. The white bandage which had bound her forehead was removed and in its place a belt was applied which held her head immovable. The hands were tied behind the post, each one separately. When the preparations were over, the assistant stepped back, and the executioners, like their victim, naked to the waist, and with knives in hand, prostrated themselves at our feet. The chief butcher took his place by the woman’s left side, and a knife gleamed. Then one of her ears was thrown upon the ground. A few seconds more and the other ear was sliced In the same manner. Her eyes no longer glanced wildly from side to side, following the movements of her torturers, but appeared fixed upon mine, and, although I could not understand her shrieking cries, I knew she pleaded to me for mercy—a mercy I could not bestow. Her tongue was cut from her mouth, and at each mutilation a secretary told off the number of the slashes. When he counted ten, I braced myself for a glimpse at the sickening sight, and where had been but a few moments before a woman’s face, there was but a bloody, unrecognizable ball. With the regularity of a machine the butchers wielded their cleaver. When I next looked it gave me satisfaction to know that death had come to the relief of the wretched woman before the entire thirty-six cuts had been administered.Before leaving Su Chow we visited the hospital which is conducted under the auspices of the Southern Methodist Episcopal Church. The institution is in charge of Dr. W. H. Park, a typical Southerner, courteous and hospitable, who seemed devoted to his noble work among his heathen patients, and to the medical education of a small class of Chinese students. His corps of assistants included, besides his wife, Dr. Annie Walter, Dr. J. B. Fern, Mr. and Mrs. D. S. Anderson, and the Misses Atkinson, Hearn and Gaither. The cost of sustaining the hospital is paid by the Methodist Mission, but all money derived from patients and from outside visits by Dr. Park, which is considerable, is devoted to the hospital fund.At Wu Sih we were the guests of Dr. Walters for several days before we departed for Ching Kiang. What few roads China possesses are mere foot paths, and in the Eastern districts, where clay is the principal superficial soil, six months of each year these paths are impassable save to foot passengers. Our appearance, therefore, upon bicycles on roads where the wheelbarrow is the only wheel ever seen, stirred the natives to the wildest pitch. The bicycle is an unknown quantity upon the Grand Canal, none besides Lens, the St. Louisan who lost his life in Armenia, having ever passed that way until Mrs. McIlrath and myself appeared. The “devil carriages,” as they calledour wheels, were too much for their nerves to bear. Six miles up the Grand Canal we encountered the first village, and as the tow path ceased, and the only route through was by the main street, our speed was checked and we were prepared for the reception by the mob which we knew would turn up. By repeated cries of warning I kept the passage clear in front, but no sooner had Mrs. McIlrath passed than the mob closed in. Hooting and jeering, they followed at our heels, the larger and heavier knocking down and walking over the weaker and younger. Their discordant howls were deafening, and when the end of the village street finally appeared I signaled Mrs. McIlrath for a sprint, and away we sped, with a shower of clods after us. We traveled for thirty or forty miles along the banks of the canal, passing boats under sail, the crews of which shouted as we rolled along, until at last we sighted the south gate of Chang Chow, about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Selecting a place where we could be protected from the wind, we stacked our wheels and prepared for lunch. A small spirit lamp boiled the muddy water taken from the canal. We filtered this through a little pocket contrivance and made each a cup of beef tea. We had expected to avoid being bothered by curious natives, stopping, where we did, one mile from the city, but before we had finished eating a dozen coolies and as many boys gathered around us, and with signs attempted to ascertain who we were and where we were from. Each boat that passed us hailed us cordially, but it was not until four hours after that a boat containing a party of missionaries, friends of ours, arrived, and we were taken on board and put away for the night. House-boats in China, where obtainable, are always preferable to inns, and it is well for one touring the country to attempt arriving at the water’s edge by dusk.After a good breakfast the next morning and a thorough inspection of our wheels, we bade farewell to our friends on the boat and set out for Ching Kiang. The streets in Chang Chow were very fair, and we made good speed through the city. Our appearance created a great commotion, but many of the crowd who clattered after us had heard of our reception by various notables and mandarins, and they saluted respectfully, at the same time assisting in clearing a way for us. Once on the open, we sighted the telegraph poles, and by following in their direction were soon on the Grand Canal once more. By noon we had covered forty miles, pausing for dinner at a small village. As we sat in the dingy, queer-smelling restaurant the sky darkened and rain began to fall. We saw the possibility of reaching Tan Yan before night growing less with each drop of moisture, but as the water did not fall in quantities sufficient to make theclay path treacherous, we mounted our wheels, determined to cover every mile we could before the downpour came. At 3 o’clock we sighted a high wall, which we knew to be that encircling the city of Pen In. We made no stop in the city, pedaling around the town, having been warned not to venture within its limits. We traveled all afternoon in a drizzle, and when the rain began to fall in sheets, about 5 o’clock, we were lucky in having a boat pass us on the canal. We hailed the craft, and by displaying a silver dollar obtained shelter for the night.The following morning, Saturday, March 21, we again mounted our wheels and took to the tow-path. Though the ground was soft and treacherous, we reached Tan Yan at 10 o’clock. It was amusing to observe the effect of our bicycles upon the natives. Farmers and laborers in the fields dropped their implements soon as they sighted us and ran to the roadside to view us in blank amazement, but if I stopped and attempted to engage them in conversation they directly ran for the interior again. Some of the people we passed with wheelbarrows left the vehicles in the path and sought refuge in the rice fields. A steam street roller could not have created greater consternation among a troop of wild ponies than our innocent rubber-tired vehicles did among the country folk of China. Several times we thought we had lost our way, so obscure had the path become, and had it not been for our compass, the knowledge that Ching Kiang lay directly north, and an occasional friendly farmer, we would never have found our way. Seventeen miles from Tan Yan we sighted the pagoda of the south gate of Ching Kiang, and entering upon a stone-bedded road, we plowed along at lively speed to the very entrance of the city wall. Inquiry for “Yen Isweesun” (foreigners) put to the crowd before us was fruitful, and under the escort of half a dozen young men we were led through a maze of small streets, and the way pointed out to a group of small houses which dotted the summits of a chain of hills. The United States flag floated over one residence, and with thanks to our guides we turned to leave them. The Chinese who had piloted us blocked our path, demanding a reward. By gestures they made it known that they would consider the account settled if I would let one man ride my wheel. Nothing could have suited me better, and I surrendered it at once. Two men held the wheel while the third mounted it, and in less than a minute he had taken a plunge into a ditch of muddy water, changing his ambition to ride into one of disgust for the wheel and respectful admiration for myself.The United States Consul, Gen. A. C. Jones, occupied one of the handsomest houses in Ching Kiang. We called upon him on theafternoon of our arrival, but found him absent. However, we were taken into his office and entertained by Mrs. Jones until the arrival of her husband, who had been looked up by a native servant with the information that “two men” had come to see him “walking on wheels.”
CHAPTER IX.IN THE AUGUST PRESENCE OF THE TAO TAI—THE PRIVILEGED GUESTS AT AN EXECUTION—FANATICS PURSUE THE “FOREIGN DEVILS.”At 8 o’clock on the evening of March 4 our boat moored at the locks of the Grand Canal at Su Chow, but the hour was so late and the streets appeared so dirty and uncertain, that Mrs. McIlrath and I remained on board until morning. Su Chow is a typical Chinese city, and our entrance thereto was an event to the natives. Immediately after breakfast I dispatched a message to the Tao Tai, bearing one of my Chinese cards and the mysterious packet. In an hour the messenger returned accompanied by four chair bearers and a score of soldiers. They were to conduct us into the presence of the Tao Tai. The mandarin received us in state robes, seated upon a high chair, and over his head was held a large umbrella. As we approached him, he graciously descended from his throne and saluted us with a low bow. Mr. Charles Lewis, an American trader, acted as interpreter, and as he spoke Chinese fluently, the mystery of the document and our reception at the palace was soon explained. Mrs. McIlrath and I were not only to see more of Chinese customs, but were the guests of the mandarin. The document further specified that we should witness the execution of a woman who had murdered two others on account of her husband, and at the palace we were to remain until orders came for the execution. “Seng chee” was the mode of death to which the woman was sentenced. This meant “thirty-six cuts,” so inflicted upon the body as to terribly mutilate but not prove immediately fatal. The order for execution did not arrive until March 7. The intervening days, spent in the palace from the time of our arrival, were devoted to our express entertainment, a Chinese boy who spoke English well having been brought from Shanghai expressly to serve as our interpreter and guide.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.[Outline map showing route of the McIlraths across Asia.]It was he who awakened us on the morning of the execution with the news that “the papers” had come. Mrs. McIlrath had no wish to view the horrible scene soon to be enacted, and as I left the room she hid her face within her hands and begged me not to mention the proceedings upon my return. The mandarin awaited me in the state room, and with much forethought had ordered two bottles of champagne with which to brace our nerves. A moment later we were on our way to the court yard in the rear of the palace, a retinue of soldiers surrounding us. Two guards dragged the woman directly before the pavilion we occupied. She fell to her knees, and as she beat the ground with her forehead, begging for mercy, the mandarin’s secretary read a few words from a scroll, and the poor wretch wassentenced. Two soldiers tied the woman to a post in an upright position, her feet resting upon a heavy block of wood. The white bandage which had bound her forehead was removed and in its place a belt was applied which held her head immovable. The hands were tied behind the post, each one separately. When the preparations were over, the assistant stepped back, and the executioners, like their victim, naked to the waist, and with knives in hand, prostrated themselves at our feet. The chief butcher took his place by the woman’s left side, and a knife gleamed. Then one of her ears was thrown upon the ground. A few seconds more and the other ear was sliced In the same manner. Her eyes no longer glanced wildly from side to side, following the movements of her torturers, but appeared fixed upon mine, and, although I could not understand her shrieking cries, I knew she pleaded to me for mercy—a mercy I could not bestow. Her tongue was cut from her mouth, and at each mutilation a secretary told off the number of the slashes. When he counted ten, I braced myself for a glimpse at the sickening sight, and where had been but a few moments before a woman’s face, there was but a bloody, unrecognizable ball. With the regularity of a machine the butchers wielded their cleaver. When I next looked it gave me satisfaction to know that death had come to the relief of the wretched woman before the entire thirty-six cuts had been administered.Before leaving Su Chow we visited the hospital which is conducted under the auspices of the Southern Methodist Episcopal Church. The institution is in charge of Dr. W. H. Park, a typical Southerner, courteous and hospitable, who seemed devoted to his noble work among his heathen patients, and to the medical education of a small class of Chinese students. His corps of assistants included, besides his wife, Dr. Annie Walter, Dr. J. B. Fern, Mr. and Mrs. D. S. Anderson, and the Misses Atkinson, Hearn and Gaither. The cost of sustaining the hospital is paid by the Methodist Mission, but all money derived from patients and from outside visits by Dr. Park, which is considerable, is devoted to the hospital fund.At Wu Sih we were the guests of Dr. Walters for several days before we departed for Ching Kiang. What few roads China possesses are mere foot paths, and in the Eastern districts, where clay is the principal superficial soil, six months of each year these paths are impassable save to foot passengers. Our appearance, therefore, upon bicycles on roads where the wheelbarrow is the only wheel ever seen, stirred the natives to the wildest pitch. The bicycle is an unknown quantity upon the Grand Canal, none besides Lens, the St. Louisan who lost his life in Armenia, having ever passed that way until Mrs. McIlrath and myself appeared. The “devil carriages,” as they calledour wheels, were too much for their nerves to bear. Six miles up the Grand Canal we encountered the first village, and as the tow path ceased, and the only route through was by the main street, our speed was checked and we were prepared for the reception by the mob which we knew would turn up. By repeated cries of warning I kept the passage clear in front, but no sooner had Mrs. McIlrath passed than the mob closed in. Hooting and jeering, they followed at our heels, the larger and heavier knocking down and walking over the weaker and younger. Their discordant howls were deafening, and when the end of the village street finally appeared I signaled Mrs. McIlrath for a sprint, and away we sped, with a shower of clods after us. We traveled for thirty or forty miles along the banks of the canal, passing boats under sail, the crews of which shouted as we rolled along, until at last we sighted the south gate of Chang Chow, about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Selecting a place where we could be protected from the wind, we stacked our wheels and prepared for lunch. A small spirit lamp boiled the muddy water taken from the canal. We filtered this through a little pocket contrivance and made each a cup of beef tea. We had expected to avoid being bothered by curious natives, stopping, where we did, one mile from the city, but before we had finished eating a dozen coolies and as many boys gathered around us, and with signs attempted to ascertain who we were and where we were from. Each boat that passed us hailed us cordially, but it was not until four hours after that a boat containing a party of missionaries, friends of ours, arrived, and we were taken on board and put away for the night. House-boats in China, where obtainable, are always preferable to inns, and it is well for one touring the country to attempt arriving at the water’s edge by dusk.After a good breakfast the next morning and a thorough inspection of our wheels, we bade farewell to our friends on the boat and set out for Ching Kiang. The streets in Chang Chow were very fair, and we made good speed through the city. Our appearance created a great commotion, but many of the crowd who clattered after us had heard of our reception by various notables and mandarins, and they saluted respectfully, at the same time assisting in clearing a way for us. Once on the open, we sighted the telegraph poles, and by following in their direction were soon on the Grand Canal once more. By noon we had covered forty miles, pausing for dinner at a small village. As we sat in the dingy, queer-smelling restaurant the sky darkened and rain began to fall. We saw the possibility of reaching Tan Yan before night growing less with each drop of moisture, but as the water did not fall in quantities sufficient to make theclay path treacherous, we mounted our wheels, determined to cover every mile we could before the downpour came. At 3 o’clock we sighted a high wall, which we knew to be that encircling the city of Pen In. We made no stop in the city, pedaling around the town, having been warned not to venture within its limits. We traveled all afternoon in a drizzle, and when the rain began to fall in sheets, about 5 o’clock, we were lucky in having a boat pass us on the canal. We hailed the craft, and by displaying a silver dollar obtained shelter for the night.The following morning, Saturday, March 21, we again mounted our wheels and took to the tow-path. Though the ground was soft and treacherous, we reached Tan Yan at 10 o’clock. It was amusing to observe the effect of our bicycles upon the natives. Farmers and laborers in the fields dropped their implements soon as they sighted us and ran to the roadside to view us in blank amazement, but if I stopped and attempted to engage them in conversation they directly ran for the interior again. Some of the people we passed with wheelbarrows left the vehicles in the path and sought refuge in the rice fields. A steam street roller could not have created greater consternation among a troop of wild ponies than our innocent rubber-tired vehicles did among the country folk of China. Several times we thought we had lost our way, so obscure had the path become, and had it not been for our compass, the knowledge that Ching Kiang lay directly north, and an occasional friendly farmer, we would never have found our way. Seventeen miles from Tan Yan we sighted the pagoda of the south gate of Ching Kiang, and entering upon a stone-bedded road, we plowed along at lively speed to the very entrance of the city wall. Inquiry for “Yen Isweesun” (foreigners) put to the crowd before us was fruitful, and under the escort of half a dozen young men we were led through a maze of small streets, and the way pointed out to a group of small houses which dotted the summits of a chain of hills. The United States flag floated over one residence, and with thanks to our guides we turned to leave them. The Chinese who had piloted us blocked our path, demanding a reward. By gestures they made it known that they would consider the account settled if I would let one man ride my wheel. Nothing could have suited me better, and I surrendered it at once. Two men held the wheel while the third mounted it, and in less than a minute he had taken a plunge into a ditch of muddy water, changing his ambition to ride into one of disgust for the wheel and respectful admiration for myself.The United States Consul, Gen. A. C. Jones, occupied one of the handsomest houses in Ching Kiang. We called upon him on theafternoon of our arrival, but found him absent. However, we were taken into his office and entertained by Mrs. Jones until the arrival of her husband, who had been looked up by a native servant with the information that “two men” had come to see him “walking on wheels.”
CHAPTER IX.IN THE AUGUST PRESENCE OF THE TAO TAI—THE PRIVILEGED GUESTS AT AN EXECUTION—FANATICS PURSUE THE “FOREIGN DEVILS.”
IN THE AUGUST PRESENCE OF THE TAO TAI—THE PRIVILEGED GUESTS AT AN EXECUTION—FANATICS PURSUE THE “FOREIGN DEVILS.”
IN THE AUGUST PRESENCE OF THE TAO TAI—THE PRIVILEGED GUESTS AT AN EXECUTION—FANATICS PURSUE THE “FOREIGN DEVILS.”
At 8 o’clock on the evening of March 4 our boat moored at the locks of the Grand Canal at Su Chow, but the hour was so late and the streets appeared so dirty and uncertain, that Mrs. McIlrath and I remained on board until morning. Su Chow is a typical Chinese city, and our entrance thereto was an event to the natives. Immediately after breakfast I dispatched a message to the Tao Tai, bearing one of my Chinese cards and the mysterious packet. In an hour the messenger returned accompanied by four chair bearers and a score of soldiers. They were to conduct us into the presence of the Tao Tai. The mandarin received us in state robes, seated upon a high chair, and over his head was held a large umbrella. As we approached him, he graciously descended from his throne and saluted us with a low bow. Mr. Charles Lewis, an American trader, acted as interpreter, and as he spoke Chinese fluently, the mystery of the document and our reception at the palace was soon explained. Mrs. McIlrath and I were not only to see more of Chinese customs, but were the guests of the mandarin. The document further specified that we should witness the execution of a woman who had murdered two others on account of her husband, and at the palace we were to remain until orders came for the execution. “Seng chee” was the mode of death to which the woman was sentenced. This meant “thirty-six cuts,” so inflicted upon the body as to terribly mutilate but not prove immediately fatal. The order for execution did not arrive until March 7. The intervening days, spent in the palace from the time of our arrival, were devoted to our express entertainment, a Chinese boy who spoke English well having been brought from Shanghai expressly to serve as our interpreter and guide.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.[Outline map showing route of the McIlraths across Asia.]It was he who awakened us on the morning of the execution with the news that “the papers” had come. Mrs. McIlrath had no wish to view the horrible scene soon to be enacted, and as I left the room she hid her face within her hands and begged me not to mention the proceedings upon my return. The mandarin awaited me in the state room, and with much forethought had ordered two bottles of champagne with which to brace our nerves. A moment later we were on our way to the court yard in the rear of the palace, a retinue of soldiers surrounding us. Two guards dragged the woman directly before the pavilion we occupied. She fell to her knees, and as she beat the ground with her forehead, begging for mercy, the mandarin’s secretary read a few words from a scroll, and the poor wretch wassentenced. Two soldiers tied the woman to a post in an upright position, her feet resting upon a heavy block of wood. The white bandage which had bound her forehead was removed and in its place a belt was applied which held her head immovable. The hands were tied behind the post, each one separately. When the preparations were over, the assistant stepped back, and the executioners, like their victim, naked to the waist, and with knives in hand, prostrated themselves at our feet. The chief butcher took his place by the woman’s left side, and a knife gleamed. Then one of her ears was thrown upon the ground. A few seconds more and the other ear was sliced In the same manner. Her eyes no longer glanced wildly from side to side, following the movements of her torturers, but appeared fixed upon mine, and, although I could not understand her shrieking cries, I knew she pleaded to me for mercy—a mercy I could not bestow. Her tongue was cut from her mouth, and at each mutilation a secretary told off the number of the slashes. When he counted ten, I braced myself for a glimpse at the sickening sight, and where had been but a few moments before a woman’s face, there was but a bloody, unrecognizable ball. With the regularity of a machine the butchers wielded their cleaver. When I next looked it gave me satisfaction to know that death had come to the relief of the wretched woman before the entire thirty-six cuts had been administered.Before leaving Su Chow we visited the hospital which is conducted under the auspices of the Southern Methodist Episcopal Church. The institution is in charge of Dr. W. H. Park, a typical Southerner, courteous and hospitable, who seemed devoted to his noble work among his heathen patients, and to the medical education of a small class of Chinese students. His corps of assistants included, besides his wife, Dr. Annie Walter, Dr. J. B. Fern, Mr. and Mrs. D. S. Anderson, and the Misses Atkinson, Hearn and Gaither. The cost of sustaining the hospital is paid by the Methodist Mission, but all money derived from patients and from outside visits by Dr. Park, which is considerable, is devoted to the hospital fund.At Wu Sih we were the guests of Dr. Walters for several days before we departed for Ching Kiang. What few roads China possesses are mere foot paths, and in the Eastern districts, where clay is the principal superficial soil, six months of each year these paths are impassable save to foot passengers. Our appearance, therefore, upon bicycles on roads where the wheelbarrow is the only wheel ever seen, stirred the natives to the wildest pitch. The bicycle is an unknown quantity upon the Grand Canal, none besides Lens, the St. Louisan who lost his life in Armenia, having ever passed that way until Mrs. McIlrath and myself appeared. The “devil carriages,” as they calledour wheels, were too much for their nerves to bear. Six miles up the Grand Canal we encountered the first village, and as the tow path ceased, and the only route through was by the main street, our speed was checked and we were prepared for the reception by the mob which we knew would turn up. By repeated cries of warning I kept the passage clear in front, but no sooner had Mrs. McIlrath passed than the mob closed in. Hooting and jeering, they followed at our heels, the larger and heavier knocking down and walking over the weaker and younger. Their discordant howls were deafening, and when the end of the village street finally appeared I signaled Mrs. McIlrath for a sprint, and away we sped, with a shower of clods after us. We traveled for thirty or forty miles along the banks of the canal, passing boats under sail, the crews of which shouted as we rolled along, until at last we sighted the south gate of Chang Chow, about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Selecting a place where we could be protected from the wind, we stacked our wheels and prepared for lunch. A small spirit lamp boiled the muddy water taken from the canal. We filtered this through a little pocket contrivance and made each a cup of beef tea. We had expected to avoid being bothered by curious natives, stopping, where we did, one mile from the city, but before we had finished eating a dozen coolies and as many boys gathered around us, and with signs attempted to ascertain who we were and where we were from. Each boat that passed us hailed us cordially, but it was not until four hours after that a boat containing a party of missionaries, friends of ours, arrived, and we were taken on board and put away for the night. House-boats in China, where obtainable, are always preferable to inns, and it is well for one touring the country to attempt arriving at the water’s edge by dusk.After a good breakfast the next morning and a thorough inspection of our wheels, we bade farewell to our friends on the boat and set out for Ching Kiang. The streets in Chang Chow were very fair, and we made good speed through the city. Our appearance created a great commotion, but many of the crowd who clattered after us had heard of our reception by various notables and mandarins, and they saluted respectfully, at the same time assisting in clearing a way for us. Once on the open, we sighted the telegraph poles, and by following in their direction were soon on the Grand Canal once more. By noon we had covered forty miles, pausing for dinner at a small village. As we sat in the dingy, queer-smelling restaurant the sky darkened and rain began to fall. We saw the possibility of reaching Tan Yan before night growing less with each drop of moisture, but as the water did not fall in quantities sufficient to make theclay path treacherous, we mounted our wheels, determined to cover every mile we could before the downpour came. At 3 o’clock we sighted a high wall, which we knew to be that encircling the city of Pen In. We made no stop in the city, pedaling around the town, having been warned not to venture within its limits. We traveled all afternoon in a drizzle, and when the rain began to fall in sheets, about 5 o’clock, we were lucky in having a boat pass us on the canal. We hailed the craft, and by displaying a silver dollar obtained shelter for the night.The following morning, Saturday, March 21, we again mounted our wheels and took to the tow-path. Though the ground was soft and treacherous, we reached Tan Yan at 10 o’clock. It was amusing to observe the effect of our bicycles upon the natives. Farmers and laborers in the fields dropped their implements soon as they sighted us and ran to the roadside to view us in blank amazement, but if I stopped and attempted to engage them in conversation they directly ran for the interior again. Some of the people we passed with wheelbarrows left the vehicles in the path and sought refuge in the rice fields. A steam street roller could not have created greater consternation among a troop of wild ponies than our innocent rubber-tired vehicles did among the country folk of China. Several times we thought we had lost our way, so obscure had the path become, and had it not been for our compass, the knowledge that Ching Kiang lay directly north, and an occasional friendly farmer, we would never have found our way. Seventeen miles from Tan Yan we sighted the pagoda of the south gate of Ching Kiang, and entering upon a stone-bedded road, we plowed along at lively speed to the very entrance of the city wall. Inquiry for “Yen Isweesun” (foreigners) put to the crowd before us was fruitful, and under the escort of half a dozen young men we were led through a maze of small streets, and the way pointed out to a group of small houses which dotted the summits of a chain of hills. The United States flag floated over one residence, and with thanks to our guides we turned to leave them. The Chinese who had piloted us blocked our path, demanding a reward. By gestures they made it known that they would consider the account settled if I would let one man ride my wheel. Nothing could have suited me better, and I surrendered it at once. Two men held the wheel while the third mounted it, and in less than a minute he had taken a plunge into a ditch of muddy water, changing his ambition to ride into one of disgust for the wheel and respectful admiration for myself.The United States Consul, Gen. A. C. Jones, occupied one of the handsomest houses in Ching Kiang. We called upon him on theafternoon of our arrival, but found him absent. However, we were taken into his office and entertained by Mrs. Jones until the arrival of her husband, who had been looked up by a native servant with the information that “two men” had come to see him “walking on wheels.”
At 8 o’clock on the evening of March 4 our boat moored at the locks of the Grand Canal at Su Chow, but the hour was so late and the streets appeared so dirty and uncertain, that Mrs. McIlrath and I remained on board until morning. Su Chow is a typical Chinese city, and our entrance thereto was an event to the natives. Immediately after breakfast I dispatched a message to the Tao Tai, bearing one of my Chinese cards and the mysterious packet. In an hour the messenger returned accompanied by four chair bearers and a score of soldiers. They were to conduct us into the presence of the Tao Tai. The mandarin received us in state robes, seated upon a high chair, and over his head was held a large umbrella. As we approached him, he graciously descended from his throne and saluted us with a low bow. Mr. Charles Lewis, an American trader, acted as interpreter, and as he spoke Chinese fluently, the mystery of the document and our reception at the palace was soon explained. Mrs. McIlrath and I were not only to see more of Chinese customs, but were the guests of the mandarin. The document further specified that we should witness the execution of a woman who had murdered two others on account of her husband, and at the palace we were to remain until orders came for the execution. “Seng chee” was the mode of death to which the woman was sentenced. This meant “thirty-six cuts,” so inflicted upon the body as to terribly mutilate but not prove immediately fatal. The order for execution did not arrive until March 7. The intervening days, spent in the palace from the time of our arrival, were devoted to our express entertainment, a Chinese boy who spoke English well having been brought from Shanghai expressly to serve as our interpreter and guide.
FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.[Outline map showing route of the McIlraths across Asia.]
FROM SHANGHAI TO CALCUTTA.
[Outline map showing route of the McIlraths across Asia.]
It was he who awakened us on the morning of the execution with the news that “the papers” had come. Mrs. McIlrath had no wish to view the horrible scene soon to be enacted, and as I left the room she hid her face within her hands and begged me not to mention the proceedings upon my return. The mandarin awaited me in the state room, and with much forethought had ordered two bottles of champagne with which to brace our nerves. A moment later we were on our way to the court yard in the rear of the palace, a retinue of soldiers surrounding us. Two guards dragged the woman directly before the pavilion we occupied. She fell to her knees, and as she beat the ground with her forehead, begging for mercy, the mandarin’s secretary read a few words from a scroll, and the poor wretch wassentenced. Two soldiers tied the woman to a post in an upright position, her feet resting upon a heavy block of wood. The white bandage which had bound her forehead was removed and in its place a belt was applied which held her head immovable. The hands were tied behind the post, each one separately. When the preparations were over, the assistant stepped back, and the executioners, like their victim, naked to the waist, and with knives in hand, prostrated themselves at our feet. The chief butcher took his place by the woman’s left side, and a knife gleamed. Then one of her ears was thrown upon the ground. A few seconds more and the other ear was sliced In the same manner. Her eyes no longer glanced wildly from side to side, following the movements of her torturers, but appeared fixed upon mine, and, although I could not understand her shrieking cries, I knew she pleaded to me for mercy—a mercy I could not bestow. Her tongue was cut from her mouth, and at each mutilation a secretary told off the number of the slashes. When he counted ten, I braced myself for a glimpse at the sickening sight, and where had been but a few moments before a woman’s face, there was but a bloody, unrecognizable ball. With the regularity of a machine the butchers wielded their cleaver. When I next looked it gave me satisfaction to know that death had come to the relief of the wretched woman before the entire thirty-six cuts had been administered.
Before leaving Su Chow we visited the hospital which is conducted under the auspices of the Southern Methodist Episcopal Church. The institution is in charge of Dr. W. H. Park, a typical Southerner, courteous and hospitable, who seemed devoted to his noble work among his heathen patients, and to the medical education of a small class of Chinese students. His corps of assistants included, besides his wife, Dr. Annie Walter, Dr. J. B. Fern, Mr. and Mrs. D. S. Anderson, and the Misses Atkinson, Hearn and Gaither. The cost of sustaining the hospital is paid by the Methodist Mission, but all money derived from patients and from outside visits by Dr. Park, which is considerable, is devoted to the hospital fund.
At Wu Sih we were the guests of Dr. Walters for several days before we departed for Ching Kiang. What few roads China possesses are mere foot paths, and in the Eastern districts, where clay is the principal superficial soil, six months of each year these paths are impassable save to foot passengers. Our appearance, therefore, upon bicycles on roads where the wheelbarrow is the only wheel ever seen, stirred the natives to the wildest pitch. The bicycle is an unknown quantity upon the Grand Canal, none besides Lens, the St. Louisan who lost his life in Armenia, having ever passed that way until Mrs. McIlrath and myself appeared. The “devil carriages,” as they calledour wheels, were too much for their nerves to bear. Six miles up the Grand Canal we encountered the first village, and as the tow path ceased, and the only route through was by the main street, our speed was checked and we were prepared for the reception by the mob which we knew would turn up. By repeated cries of warning I kept the passage clear in front, but no sooner had Mrs. McIlrath passed than the mob closed in. Hooting and jeering, they followed at our heels, the larger and heavier knocking down and walking over the weaker and younger. Their discordant howls were deafening, and when the end of the village street finally appeared I signaled Mrs. McIlrath for a sprint, and away we sped, with a shower of clods after us. We traveled for thirty or forty miles along the banks of the canal, passing boats under sail, the crews of which shouted as we rolled along, until at last we sighted the south gate of Chang Chow, about 5 o’clock in the afternoon. Selecting a place where we could be protected from the wind, we stacked our wheels and prepared for lunch. A small spirit lamp boiled the muddy water taken from the canal. We filtered this through a little pocket contrivance and made each a cup of beef tea. We had expected to avoid being bothered by curious natives, stopping, where we did, one mile from the city, but before we had finished eating a dozen coolies and as many boys gathered around us, and with signs attempted to ascertain who we were and where we were from. Each boat that passed us hailed us cordially, but it was not until four hours after that a boat containing a party of missionaries, friends of ours, arrived, and we were taken on board and put away for the night. House-boats in China, where obtainable, are always preferable to inns, and it is well for one touring the country to attempt arriving at the water’s edge by dusk.
After a good breakfast the next morning and a thorough inspection of our wheels, we bade farewell to our friends on the boat and set out for Ching Kiang. The streets in Chang Chow were very fair, and we made good speed through the city. Our appearance created a great commotion, but many of the crowd who clattered after us had heard of our reception by various notables and mandarins, and they saluted respectfully, at the same time assisting in clearing a way for us. Once on the open, we sighted the telegraph poles, and by following in their direction were soon on the Grand Canal once more. By noon we had covered forty miles, pausing for dinner at a small village. As we sat in the dingy, queer-smelling restaurant the sky darkened and rain began to fall. We saw the possibility of reaching Tan Yan before night growing less with each drop of moisture, but as the water did not fall in quantities sufficient to make theclay path treacherous, we mounted our wheels, determined to cover every mile we could before the downpour came. At 3 o’clock we sighted a high wall, which we knew to be that encircling the city of Pen In. We made no stop in the city, pedaling around the town, having been warned not to venture within its limits. We traveled all afternoon in a drizzle, and when the rain began to fall in sheets, about 5 o’clock, we were lucky in having a boat pass us on the canal. We hailed the craft, and by displaying a silver dollar obtained shelter for the night.
The following morning, Saturday, March 21, we again mounted our wheels and took to the tow-path. Though the ground was soft and treacherous, we reached Tan Yan at 10 o’clock. It was amusing to observe the effect of our bicycles upon the natives. Farmers and laborers in the fields dropped their implements soon as they sighted us and ran to the roadside to view us in blank amazement, but if I stopped and attempted to engage them in conversation they directly ran for the interior again. Some of the people we passed with wheelbarrows left the vehicles in the path and sought refuge in the rice fields. A steam street roller could not have created greater consternation among a troop of wild ponies than our innocent rubber-tired vehicles did among the country folk of China. Several times we thought we had lost our way, so obscure had the path become, and had it not been for our compass, the knowledge that Ching Kiang lay directly north, and an occasional friendly farmer, we would never have found our way. Seventeen miles from Tan Yan we sighted the pagoda of the south gate of Ching Kiang, and entering upon a stone-bedded road, we plowed along at lively speed to the very entrance of the city wall. Inquiry for “Yen Isweesun” (foreigners) put to the crowd before us was fruitful, and under the escort of half a dozen young men we were led through a maze of small streets, and the way pointed out to a group of small houses which dotted the summits of a chain of hills. The United States flag floated over one residence, and with thanks to our guides we turned to leave them. The Chinese who had piloted us blocked our path, demanding a reward. By gestures they made it known that they would consider the account settled if I would let one man ride my wheel. Nothing could have suited me better, and I surrendered it at once. Two men held the wheel while the third mounted it, and in less than a minute he had taken a plunge into a ditch of muddy water, changing his ambition to ride into one of disgust for the wheel and respectful admiration for myself.
The United States Consul, Gen. A. C. Jones, occupied one of the handsomest houses in Ching Kiang. We called upon him on theafternoon of our arrival, but found him absent. However, we were taken into his office and entertained by Mrs. Jones until the arrival of her husband, who had been looked up by a native servant with the information that “two men” had come to see him “walking on wheels.”