CHAPTER X.GENERAL JONES ABLY REPRESENTS UNCLE SAM AND HIS GOVERNMENT—MUD DELAYS THE TOURISTS—MISTAKEN FOR A MISSIONARY M. D.Gen. Jones, a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose handsome face was crowned with silvery white hair and ornamented by a flowing mustache and imperial, impressed me as one of the most courteous and affable gentlemen with whose acquaintance I had ever been honored. There are many reminiscences told of him and his admirable dealings in national affairs with the Chinese, and none better is related than how he adjusted the claim of his government arising out of the great riot of Ching Kiang in 1889. The riot, it may be remembered, resulted in the burning of the British Consulate, the looting of the American Consulate, and the death of Mrs. Mansfield, wife of Her Majesty’s Consul, from shock and prostration. The claims of the British government were first presented to the Tao Tai, and after a long period of wrangling the amount of damages was considerably cut down and the matter was pigeon-holed for future consideration. When it came the American Consul’s turn to present his bill, he did so without waste of words. It is told of him, by none other than Mr. Mansfield, the English Consul, that Gen. Jones disdained the seat offered him at the meeting of the Commissions of Arbitration, and remained standing in dramatic attitude before the Tao Tai. When that official had listened to the American claim, and expostulated that the figures seemed exorbitant, Gen. Jones drew himself up and forthwith gave an exhibition of Western ideas and American principles. Addressing the Tao Tai, he said:“Sir, I represent a people whom your horde of fanatic savages have maliciously wronged and robbed. I have presented the claim; it lies before you. I do not ask that it be paid; I do not supplicate you that it be settled, but, as the representative of the United States Government, I demand, sir, that it be paid, unaltered, unchanged and in its entirety.”The Consul leaned over the table, one hand with clenched fist supporting his body, the other resting upon his hip, as if to draw a six-shooter, and with determination stamped upon his countenance,he hurled the words, rather than spoke them. The Tao Tai first appeared amazed, and finally he actually trembled with fear. The entire scene was theatrical, but the climax caused those assembled more astonishment still. After a hurried whispered conversation the Chinese officials nodded pleasantly to Gen. Jones, and the Consul took his seat. His claim had been accepted.We had already been considerably delayed in our progress to Nanking, so charming and hospitable had been Gen. Jones and his wife, and, in spite of warm invitations to remain longer, Mrs. McIlrath and I left Ching Kiang at noon on March 22. Gen. Jones had ordered the way cleared for us, sending ahead a native officer. We had several days of hot, dusty riding, which was made all the more difficult by the increased amount of baggage which we carried. Nanking, our objective point, is the Southern capital of the empire, the home of the Kai King rebels; the site of the famous porcelain palace and of the great Confucian temple, a city which is the greatest of all Chinese educational points, as well as the most historical, offering opportunity for the examination of 28,000 students at one place at one time. Before entering the city we visited the Ming tomb, the burial place of the Emperor Hung Woo, who reigned during the fourteenth century, and dying at the Imperial Palace was interred at the foot of the Purple mountain. The tomb itself is simply a small hill, with nothing extraordinary appearing about its graceful, rolling eminence. Tradition has it, however, that in its depth reposes a magnificent vault, which has been completely covered by the faithful subjects who visited the tomb, each one depositing a handful of earth upon and about the vault. I bore a letter of introduction from one of my missionary friends to a Mr. Ferguson, an American resident of Nanking, through whose kind offices we were enabled to see nearly, if not all, the points of interest in the historical Chinese city, visiting the Bell tower, Drum tower and Examination Halls before our departure.As Tai Ping Foo, our next stopping place, was 68 miles southwest, and over uncertain roads, we decided to remain the second night at the home of Mr. Ferguson, and it was not until March 23 that we took our leave. We were unable to get further than fifteen miles of Tai Ping Foo on account of the muddy roads. The clay collected by our tires blocked the opening in forks and frames, the sprockets were thick discs of the yellow, sticky mass, and every fifty feet we were compelled to scrape the mud off in order to move a wheel. Removing the chain from each wheel helped matters slightly, but so frequently did the cleaning process become necessary, that we no longer used a stick for the work, but simply scraped the mud from our tires and frames with our hands. Darkness overtook us andadded to our discomfort. The path, only three feet wide, and built as an embankment, was as difficult to keep upon as a greased plank. Mrs. McIlrath and I fell time and again. Bridges had to be crossed on hands and knees, and so clogged with mud were our shoes that our legs ached from lifting our feet. We encountered many difficulties since leaving Chicago, but none so hopeless and with so little promise of a night’s rest as the time we tried to make Tai Ping Foo. Mrs. McIlrath gave way to her feelings, and sat down upon one of the muddy embankments and indulged in a good cry. We wandered through the mud and rain the greater part of the night, plunging through rice fields and patches of mustard plants, guided only by the feeble light shed by our bicycle lamps. A bad fall broke the glass in my lantern, and we were then forced to proceed only by the dim rays cast by the lamp on Mrs. McIlrath’s wheel. Toward morning we came to a halt in front of a mud hut, through the bamboo doors of which we could see the dying embers of a fire. I shouted several times before I could raise any of the occupants. A generous display of silver pieces persuaded them to let us enter. The wife arose, cooked us food, and made places for us to sleep on the floor, with the fire at our feet. I had expected my bill to be something enormous for this great accommodation, and I was all but stunned when our host demanded only 600 cash. This was equivalent to about 60 cents of Uncle Sam’s money, which amount will keep a large Chinese family for a week. Tai Ping Foo by this time was only three miles away, and without further incident we reached the city, and though we had been awake the lesser part of the day, we were soon ready for another night’s rest in more comfortable quarters.A good stone road for seven miles rendered it possible for us to ride out of Tai Ping Foo the next morning, but by 10 o’clock we came again to the sea of mud, and were forced to resume our walk. We were successful in executing our plans to reach the river by dusk, for we had concluded to take no more chances in seeking shelter with the farmers. It was comparatively easy to obtain a boat to sleep on, and the yellow-skinned bandits took advantage of our position immediately. They seemed to realize just how badly we wanted a boat, and forthwith they put the price up to the excessive sum of four dollars. But boat we had to have, and I paid the sum, stipulating, however, that they were to carry us to Wuhu, seven miles distant, and land us by daybreak. For the only time in my dealings with these rascally natives they kept their word. When we waked we were in the midst of the shipping anchored about Wuhu. On shore I spied the Chinese imperial custom-house, and who should be stalking up and down the paved court before it but our English friendBurton, whom we had met in Shanghai! The meeting with him spoiled our plans for an immediate visit to Dr. E. H. Hart, surgeon of the American Methodist Hospital, as he introduced me to Mr. A. Knight Greyson, agent of the Jardine-Mattison Transportation Company. So genial was this hearty Britisher and his wife in their invitation to luncheon that we could not refuse, and in their cosy home, on the hulk of the old ship Madras, we ate the first good meal we had enjoyed for three days. Our letter of introduction was later presented to Dr. and Mrs. Hart, who not only received us with open arms, but placed fresh linen and clean clothes at our disposal.It was necessary for us to remain three days in Wuhu. Our wheels needed a thorough cleaning, my correspondence had to be attended to, and our shoes and clothes were long past due for repairs. During our stay we were dined on board H. M. S. Daphne and the U. S. S. Detroit. Visits to us at Dr. Hart’s from officers of the British gunboat, Commander Newell of the Detroit, Lieutenant-Commander Hawley, Lieutenants Evans and Desmukes, the British Consul, Mr. Mortimore, and the members of the various missions made time fly rapidly, and though the weather was most inclement, we were loathe to leave on April 11, when the sun at last showed himself. Hard riding, favored by delightful weather, brought us to Hankow within the week. My generosity in this part of the country turned out to be dangerous to the comfort of Mrs. McIlrath, as it almost exhausted my stock of medicines. We had stopped one Sunday on one of the boats moored in the river, and I was there mistaken for a doctor. The mistake was somewhat excusable, as Mrs. McIlrath, in a spirit of mischief, had told some of the fishermen that I was a “medicine man.” I had taken a short walk on shore during the forenoon, and upon my return to the boat I found the “sick for the day” mustered in line along the beach. One child, suffering from what the missionary doctors call “rice stomach,” or, in plainer English, indigestion, was the first to attract my attention. I sounded the little fellow’s abdomen, which was so swollen that his waist girth exceeded his chest measure by fourteen inches, and prescribed and administered a dose for him. One of the sailor’s wives was afflicted with the “cash eye,” a poisoned and inflamed condition of the eye brought about by handling the dirty copper coin and then rubbing the eye with the contaminated fingers. The last of my patients was a young man who suffered from a toothache. I became on the spot a practicing dentist, cutting the gum away from the tooth with my pocket knife, and wrenching the offender from the poor chap’s jaw with a pair of bladed pliers, which we carried in our repair kit.At one of the villages we had passed before arriving at Hankowwe fell in with a companion named Cunningham. His other name I do not remember, and it is just as well for his own sake that I do not, as I cannot help saying that Cunningham proved himself to be the most annoying part of our baggage. He was a good wheelman, but absolutely without “backbone,” and in the serious encounters which we had with the natives, many of them being out-and-out fist fights, Cunningham proved the exception to the rule that Englishmen all are brave fellows and handy with their fists. He did the most injudicious things, and was directly responsible for several of our skirmishes. I may mention that we parted with him finally the day he chided Mrs. McIlrath for not coming to his assistance when he had been set upon and knocked down by a band of ruffianly coolies. Monday, May 18, 1896, I have down in my diary as one of the warmest I have ever passed through. The air was so humid and close that riding offered the only method of creating a breeze. The hot tea we drank at the villages did not alleviate our sufferings, and at my suggestion we passed the day in hard pedaling. Toward the evening we came upon a grove of gunbarrel trees, so called because the trunks are hollow like a gun barrel. The grove is situated upon the banks of a creek, and here we went into camp. The weather remained torrid, and for two days we rested in the forest. A settlement, not far distant, contained a market, at which we purchased our supplies, and the camping out was thus attended by much less inconvenience than one would imagine.
CHAPTER X.GENERAL JONES ABLY REPRESENTS UNCLE SAM AND HIS GOVERNMENT—MUD DELAYS THE TOURISTS—MISTAKEN FOR A MISSIONARY M. D.Gen. Jones, a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose handsome face was crowned with silvery white hair and ornamented by a flowing mustache and imperial, impressed me as one of the most courteous and affable gentlemen with whose acquaintance I had ever been honored. There are many reminiscences told of him and his admirable dealings in national affairs with the Chinese, and none better is related than how he adjusted the claim of his government arising out of the great riot of Ching Kiang in 1889. The riot, it may be remembered, resulted in the burning of the British Consulate, the looting of the American Consulate, and the death of Mrs. Mansfield, wife of Her Majesty’s Consul, from shock and prostration. The claims of the British government were first presented to the Tao Tai, and after a long period of wrangling the amount of damages was considerably cut down and the matter was pigeon-holed for future consideration. When it came the American Consul’s turn to present his bill, he did so without waste of words. It is told of him, by none other than Mr. Mansfield, the English Consul, that Gen. Jones disdained the seat offered him at the meeting of the Commissions of Arbitration, and remained standing in dramatic attitude before the Tao Tai. When that official had listened to the American claim, and expostulated that the figures seemed exorbitant, Gen. Jones drew himself up and forthwith gave an exhibition of Western ideas and American principles. Addressing the Tao Tai, he said:“Sir, I represent a people whom your horde of fanatic savages have maliciously wronged and robbed. I have presented the claim; it lies before you. I do not ask that it be paid; I do not supplicate you that it be settled, but, as the representative of the United States Government, I demand, sir, that it be paid, unaltered, unchanged and in its entirety.”The Consul leaned over the table, one hand with clenched fist supporting his body, the other resting upon his hip, as if to draw a six-shooter, and with determination stamped upon his countenance,he hurled the words, rather than spoke them. The Tao Tai first appeared amazed, and finally he actually trembled with fear. The entire scene was theatrical, but the climax caused those assembled more astonishment still. After a hurried whispered conversation the Chinese officials nodded pleasantly to Gen. Jones, and the Consul took his seat. His claim had been accepted.We had already been considerably delayed in our progress to Nanking, so charming and hospitable had been Gen. Jones and his wife, and, in spite of warm invitations to remain longer, Mrs. McIlrath and I left Ching Kiang at noon on March 22. Gen. Jones had ordered the way cleared for us, sending ahead a native officer. We had several days of hot, dusty riding, which was made all the more difficult by the increased amount of baggage which we carried. Nanking, our objective point, is the Southern capital of the empire, the home of the Kai King rebels; the site of the famous porcelain palace and of the great Confucian temple, a city which is the greatest of all Chinese educational points, as well as the most historical, offering opportunity for the examination of 28,000 students at one place at one time. Before entering the city we visited the Ming tomb, the burial place of the Emperor Hung Woo, who reigned during the fourteenth century, and dying at the Imperial Palace was interred at the foot of the Purple mountain. The tomb itself is simply a small hill, with nothing extraordinary appearing about its graceful, rolling eminence. Tradition has it, however, that in its depth reposes a magnificent vault, which has been completely covered by the faithful subjects who visited the tomb, each one depositing a handful of earth upon and about the vault. I bore a letter of introduction from one of my missionary friends to a Mr. Ferguson, an American resident of Nanking, through whose kind offices we were enabled to see nearly, if not all, the points of interest in the historical Chinese city, visiting the Bell tower, Drum tower and Examination Halls before our departure.As Tai Ping Foo, our next stopping place, was 68 miles southwest, and over uncertain roads, we decided to remain the second night at the home of Mr. Ferguson, and it was not until March 23 that we took our leave. We were unable to get further than fifteen miles of Tai Ping Foo on account of the muddy roads. The clay collected by our tires blocked the opening in forks and frames, the sprockets were thick discs of the yellow, sticky mass, and every fifty feet we were compelled to scrape the mud off in order to move a wheel. Removing the chain from each wheel helped matters slightly, but so frequently did the cleaning process become necessary, that we no longer used a stick for the work, but simply scraped the mud from our tires and frames with our hands. Darkness overtook us andadded to our discomfort. The path, only three feet wide, and built as an embankment, was as difficult to keep upon as a greased plank. Mrs. McIlrath and I fell time and again. Bridges had to be crossed on hands and knees, and so clogged with mud were our shoes that our legs ached from lifting our feet. We encountered many difficulties since leaving Chicago, but none so hopeless and with so little promise of a night’s rest as the time we tried to make Tai Ping Foo. Mrs. McIlrath gave way to her feelings, and sat down upon one of the muddy embankments and indulged in a good cry. We wandered through the mud and rain the greater part of the night, plunging through rice fields and patches of mustard plants, guided only by the feeble light shed by our bicycle lamps. A bad fall broke the glass in my lantern, and we were then forced to proceed only by the dim rays cast by the lamp on Mrs. McIlrath’s wheel. Toward morning we came to a halt in front of a mud hut, through the bamboo doors of which we could see the dying embers of a fire. I shouted several times before I could raise any of the occupants. A generous display of silver pieces persuaded them to let us enter. The wife arose, cooked us food, and made places for us to sleep on the floor, with the fire at our feet. I had expected my bill to be something enormous for this great accommodation, and I was all but stunned when our host demanded only 600 cash. This was equivalent to about 60 cents of Uncle Sam’s money, which amount will keep a large Chinese family for a week. Tai Ping Foo by this time was only three miles away, and without further incident we reached the city, and though we had been awake the lesser part of the day, we were soon ready for another night’s rest in more comfortable quarters.A good stone road for seven miles rendered it possible for us to ride out of Tai Ping Foo the next morning, but by 10 o’clock we came again to the sea of mud, and were forced to resume our walk. We were successful in executing our plans to reach the river by dusk, for we had concluded to take no more chances in seeking shelter with the farmers. It was comparatively easy to obtain a boat to sleep on, and the yellow-skinned bandits took advantage of our position immediately. They seemed to realize just how badly we wanted a boat, and forthwith they put the price up to the excessive sum of four dollars. But boat we had to have, and I paid the sum, stipulating, however, that they were to carry us to Wuhu, seven miles distant, and land us by daybreak. For the only time in my dealings with these rascally natives they kept their word. When we waked we were in the midst of the shipping anchored about Wuhu. On shore I spied the Chinese imperial custom-house, and who should be stalking up and down the paved court before it but our English friendBurton, whom we had met in Shanghai! The meeting with him spoiled our plans for an immediate visit to Dr. E. H. Hart, surgeon of the American Methodist Hospital, as he introduced me to Mr. A. Knight Greyson, agent of the Jardine-Mattison Transportation Company. So genial was this hearty Britisher and his wife in their invitation to luncheon that we could not refuse, and in their cosy home, on the hulk of the old ship Madras, we ate the first good meal we had enjoyed for three days. Our letter of introduction was later presented to Dr. and Mrs. Hart, who not only received us with open arms, but placed fresh linen and clean clothes at our disposal.It was necessary for us to remain three days in Wuhu. Our wheels needed a thorough cleaning, my correspondence had to be attended to, and our shoes and clothes were long past due for repairs. During our stay we were dined on board H. M. S. Daphne and the U. S. S. Detroit. Visits to us at Dr. Hart’s from officers of the British gunboat, Commander Newell of the Detroit, Lieutenant-Commander Hawley, Lieutenants Evans and Desmukes, the British Consul, Mr. Mortimore, and the members of the various missions made time fly rapidly, and though the weather was most inclement, we were loathe to leave on April 11, when the sun at last showed himself. Hard riding, favored by delightful weather, brought us to Hankow within the week. My generosity in this part of the country turned out to be dangerous to the comfort of Mrs. McIlrath, as it almost exhausted my stock of medicines. We had stopped one Sunday on one of the boats moored in the river, and I was there mistaken for a doctor. The mistake was somewhat excusable, as Mrs. McIlrath, in a spirit of mischief, had told some of the fishermen that I was a “medicine man.” I had taken a short walk on shore during the forenoon, and upon my return to the boat I found the “sick for the day” mustered in line along the beach. One child, suffering from what the missionary doctors call “rice stomach,” or, in plainer English, indigestion, was the first to attract my attention. I sounded the little fellow’s abdomen, which was so swollen that his waist girth exceeded his chest measure by fourteen inches, and prescribed and administered a dose for him. One of the sailor’s wives was afflicted with the “cash eye,” a poisoned and inflamed condition of the eye brought about by handling the dirty copper coin and then rubbing the eye with the contaminated fingers. The last of my patients was a young man who suffered from a toothache. I became on the spot a practicing dentist, cutting the gum away from the tooth with my pocket knife, and wrenching the offender from the poor chap’s jaw with a pair of bladed pliers, which we carried in our repair kit.At one of the villages we had passed before arriving at Hankowwe fell in with a companion named Cunningham. His other name I do not remember, and it is just as well for his own sake that I do not, as I cannot help saying that Cunningham proved himself to be the most annoying part of our baggage. He was a good wheelman, but absolutely without “backbone,” and in the serious encounters which we had with the natives, many of them being out-and-out fist fights, Cunningham proved the exception to the rule that Englishmen all are brave fellows and handy with their fists. He did the most injudicious things, and was directly responsible for several of our skirmishes. I may mention that we parted with him finally the day he chided Mrs. McIlrath for not coming to his assistance when he had been set upon and knocked down by a band of ruffianly coolies. Monday, May 18, 1896, I have down in my diary as one of the warmest I have ever passed through. The air was so humid and close that riding offered the only method of creating a breeze. The hot tea we drank at the villages did not alleviate our sufferings, and at my suggestion we passed the day in hard pedaling. Toward the evening we came upon a grove of gunbarrel trees, so called because the trunks are hollow like a gun barrel. The grove is situated upon the banks of a creek, and here we went into camp. The weather remained torrid, and for two days we rested in the forest. A settlement, not far distant, contained a market, at which we purchased our supplies, and the camping out was thus attended by much less inconvenience than one would imagine.
CHAPTER X.GENERAL JONES ABLY REPRESENTS UNCLE SAM AND HIS GOVERNMENT—MUD DELAYS THE TOURISTS—MISTAKEN FOR A MISSIONARY M. D.
GENERAL JONES ABLY REPRESENTS UNCLE SAM AND HIS GOVERNMENT—MUD DELAYS THE TOURISTS—MISTAKEN FOR A MISSIONARY M. D.
GENERAL JONES ABLY REPRESENTS UNCLE SAM AND HIS GOVERNMENT—MUD DELAYS THE TOURISTS—MISTAKEN FOR A MISSIONARY M. D.
Gen. Jones, a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose handsome face was crowned with silvery white hair and ornamented by a flowing mustache and imperial, impressed me as one of the most courteous and affable gentlemen with whose acquaintance I had ever been honored. There are many reminiscences told of him and his admirable dealings in national affairs with the Chinese, and none better is related than how he adjusted the claim of his government arising out of the great riot of Ching Kiang in 1889. The riot, it may be remembered, resulted in the burning of the British Consulate, the looting of the American Consulate, and the death of Mrs. Mansfield, wife of Her Majesty’s Consul, from shock and prostration. The claims of the British government were first presented to the Tao Tai, and after a long period of wrangling the amount of damages was considerably cut down and the matter was pigeon-holed for future consideration. When it came the American Consul’s turn to present his bill, he did so without waste of words. It is told of him, by none other than Mr. Mansfield, the English Consul, that Gen. Jones disdained the seat offered him at the meeting of the Commissions of Arbitration, and remained standing in dramatic attitude before the Tao Tai. When that official had listened to the American claim, and expostulated that the figures seemed exorbitant, Gen. Jones drew himself up and forthwith gave an exhibition of Western ideas and American principles. Addressing the Tao Tai, he said:“Sir, I represent a people whom your horde of fanatic savages have maliciously wronged and robbed. I have presented the claim; it lies before you. I do not ask that it be paid; I do not supplicate you that it be settled, but, as the representative of the United States Government, I demand, sir, that it be paid, unaltered, unchanged and in its entirety.”The Consul leaned over the table, one hand with clenched fist supporting his body, the other resting upon his hip, as if to draw a six-shooter, and with determination stamped upon his countenance,he hurled the words, rather than spoke them. The Tao Tai first appeared amazed, and finally he actually trembled with fear. The entire scene was theatrical, but the climax caused those assembled more astonishment still. After a hurried whispered conversation the Chinese officials nodded pleasantly to Gen. Jones, and the Consul took his seat. His claim had been accepted.We had already been considerably delayed in our progress to Nanking, so charming and hospitable had been Gen. Jones and his wife, and, in spite of warm invitations to remain longer, Mrs. McIlrath and I left Ching Kiang at noon on March 22. Gen. Jones had ordered the way cleared for us, sending ahead a native officer. We had several days of hot, dusty riding, which was made all the more difficult by the increased amount of baggage which we carried. Nanking, our objective point, is the Southern capital of the empire, the home of the Kai King rebels; the site of the famous porcelain palace and of the great Confucian temple, a city which is the greatest of all Chinese educational points, as well as the most historical, offering opportunity for the examination of 28,000 students at one place at one time. Before entering the city we visited the Ming tomb, the burial place of the Emperor Hung Woo, who reigned during the fourteenth century, and dying at the Imperial Palace was interred at the foot of the Purple mountain. The tomb itself is simply a small hill, with nothing extraordinary appearing about its graceful, rolling eminence. Tradition has it, however, that in its depth reposes a magnificent vault, which has been completely covered by the faithful subjects who visited the tomb, each one depositing a handful of earth upon and about the vault. I bore a letter of introduction from one of my missionary friends to a Mr. Ferguson, an American resident of Nanking, through whose kind offices we were enabled to see nearly, if not all, the points of interest in the historical Chinese city, visiting the Bell tower, Drum tower and Examination Halls before our departure.As Tai Ping Foo, our next stopping place, was 68 miles southwest, and over uncertain roads, we decided to remain the second night at the home of Mr. Ferguson, and it was not until March 23 that we took our leave. We were unable to get further than fifteen miles of Tai Ping Foo on account of the muddy roads. The clay collected by our tires blocked the opening in forks and frames, the sprockets were thick discs of the yellow, sticky mass, and every fifty feet we were compelled to scrape the mud off in order to move a wheel. Removing the chain from each wheel helped matters slightly, but so frequently did the cleaning process become necessary, that we no longer used a stick for the work, but simply scraped the mud from our tires and frames with our hands. Darkness overtook us andadded to our discomfort. The path, only three feet wide, and built as an embankment, was as difficult to keep upon as a greased plank. Mrs. McIlrath and I fell time and again. Bridges had to be crossed on hands and knees, and so clogged with mud were our shoes that our legs ached from lifting our feet. We encountered many difficulties since leaving Chicago, but none so hopeless and with so little promise of a night’s rest as the time we tried to make Tai Ping Foo. Mrs. McIlrath gave way to her feelings, and sat down upon one of the muddy embankments and indulged in a good cry. We wandered through the mud and rain the greater part of the night, plunging through rice fields and patches of mustard plants, guided only by the feeble light shed by our bicycle lamps. A bad fall broke the glass in my lantern, and we were then forced to proceed only by the dim rays cast by the lamp on Mrs. McIlrath’s wheel. Toward morning we came to a halt in front of a mud hut, through the bamboo doors of which we could see the dying embers of a fire. I shouted several times before I could raise any of the occupants. A generous display of silver pieces persuaded them to let us enter. The wife arose, cooked us food, and made places for us to sleep on the floor, with the fire at our feet. I had expected my bill to be something enormous for this great accommodation, and I was all but stunned when our host demanded only 600 cash. This was equivalent to about 60 cents of Uncle Sam’s money, which amount will keep a large Chinese family for a week. Tai Ping Foo by this time was only three miles away, and without further incident we reached the city, and though we had been awake the lesser part of the day, we were soon ready for another night’s rest in more comfortable quarters.A good stone road for seven miles rendered it possible for us to ride out of Tai Ping Foo the next morning, but by 10 o’clock we came again to the sea of mud, and were forced to resume our walk. We were successful in executing our plans to reach the river by dusk, for we had concluded to take no more chances in seeking shelter with the farmers. It was comparatively easy to obtain a boat to sleep on, and the yellow-skinned bandits took advantage of our position immediately. They seemed to realize just how badly we wanted a boat, and forthwith they put the price up to the excessive sum of four dollars. But boat we had to have, and I paid the sum, stipulating, however, that they were to carry us to Wuhu, seven miles distant, and land us by daybreak. For the only time in my dealings with these rascally natives they kept their word. When we waked we were in the midst of the shipping anchored about Wuhu. On shore I spied the Chinese imperial custom-house, and who should be stalking up and down the paved court before it but our English friendBurton, whom we had met in Shanghai! The meeting with him spoiled our plans for an immediate visit to Dr. E. H. Hart, surgeon of the American Methodist Hospital, as he introduced me to Mr. A. Knight Greyson, agent of the Jardine-Mattison Transportation Company. So genial was this hearty Britisher and his wife in their invitation to luncheon that we could not refuse, and in their cosy home, on the hulk of the old ship Madras, we ate the first good meal we had enjoyed for three days. Our letter of introduction was later presented to Dr. and Mrs. Hart, who not only received us with open arms, but placed fresh linen and clean clothes at our disposal.It was necessary for us to remain three days in Wuhu. Our wheels needed a thorough cleaning, my correspondence had to be attended to, and our shoes and clothes were long past due for repairs. During our stay we were dined on board H. M. S. Daphne and the U. S. S. Detroit. Visits to us at Dr. Hart’s from officers of the British gunboat, Commander Newell of the Detroit, Lieutenant-Commander Hawley, Lieutenants Evans and Desmukes, the British Consul, Mr. Mortimore, and the members of the various missions made time fly rapidly, and though the weather was most inclement, we were loathe to leave on April 11, when the sun at last showed himself. Hard riding, favored by delightful weather, brought us to Hankow within the week. My generosity in this part of the country turned out to be dangerous to the comfort of Mrs. McIlrath, as it almost exhausted my stock of medicines. We had stopped one Sunday on one of the boats moored in the river, and I was there mistaken for a doctor. The mistake was somewhat excusable, as Mrs. McIlrath, in a spirit of mischief, had told some of the fishermen that I was a “medicine man.” I had taken a short walk on shore during the forenoon, and upon my return to the boat I found the “sick for the day” mustered in line along the beach. One child, suffering from what the missionary doctors call “rice stomach,” or, in plainer English, indigestion, was the first to attract my attention. I sounded the little fellow’s abdomen, which was so swollen that his waist girth exceeded his chest measure by fourteen inches, and prescribed and administered a dose for him. One of the sailor’s wives was afflicted with the “cash eye,” a poisoned and inflamed condition of the eye brought about by handling the dirty copper coin and then rubbing the eye with the contaminated fingers. The last of my patients was a young man who suffered from a toothache. I became on the spot a practicing dentist, cutting the gum away from the tooth with my pocket knife, and wrenching the offender from the poor chap’s jaw with a pair of bladed pliers, which we carried in our repair kit.At one of the villages we had passed before arriving at Hankowwe fell in with a companion named Cunningham. His other name I do not remember, and it is just as well for his own sake that I do not, as I cannot help saying that Cunningham proved himself to be the most annoying part of our baggage. He was a good wheelman, but absolutely without “backbone,” and in the serious encounters which we had with the natives, many of them being out-and-out fist fights, Cunningham proved the exception to the rule that Englishmen all are brave fellows and handy with their fists. He did the most injudicious things, and was directly responsible for several of our skirmishes. I may mention that we parted with him finally the day he chided Mrs. McIlrath for not coming to his assistance when he had been set upon and knocked down by a band of ruffianly coolies. Monday, May 18, 1896, I have down in my diary as one of the warmest I have ever passed through. The air was so humid and close that riding offered the only method of creating a breeze. The hot tea we drank at the villages did not alleviate our sufferings, and at my suggestion we passed the day in hard pedaling. Toward the evening we came upon a grove of gunbarrel trees, so called because the trunks are hollow like a gun barrel. The grove is situated upon the banks of a creek, and here we went into camp. The weather remained torrid, and for two days we rested in the forest. A settlement, not far distant, contained a market, at which we purchased our supplies, and the camping out was thus attended by much less inconvenience than one would imagine.
Gen. Jones, a tall, broad-shouldered man, whose handsome face was crowned with silvery white hair and ornamented by a flowing mustache and imperial, impressed me as one of the most courteous and affable gentlemen with whose acquaintance I had ever been honored. There are many reminiscences told of him and his admirable dealings in national affairs with the Chinese, and none better is related than how he adjusted the claim of his government arising out of the great riot of Ching Kiang in 1889. The riot, it may be remembered, resulted in the burning of the British Consulate, the looting of the American Consulate, and the death of Mrs. Mansfield, wife of Her Majesty’s Consul, from shock and prostration. The claims of the British government were first presented to the Tao Tai, and after a long period of wrangling the amount of damages was considerably cut down and the matter was pigeon-holed for future consideration. When it came the American Consul’s turn to present his bill, he did so without waste of words. It is told of him, by none other than Mr. Mansfield, the English Consul, that Gen. Jones disdained the seat offered him at the meeting of the Commissions of Arbitration, and remained standing in dramatic attitude before the Tao Tai. When that official had listened to the American claim, and expostulated that the figures seemed exorbitant, Gen. Jones drew himself up and forthwith gave an exhibition of Western ideas and American principles. Addressing the Tao Tai, he said:
“Sir, I represent a people whom your horde of fanatic savages have maliciously wronged and robbed. I have presented the claim; it lies before you. I do not ask that it be paid; I do not supplicate you that it be settled, but, as the representative of the United States Government, I demand, sir, that it be paid, unaltered, unchanged and in its entirety.”
The Consul leaned over the table, one hand with clenched fist supporting his body, the other resting upon his hip, as if to draw a six-shooter, and with determination stamped upon his countenance,he hurled the words, rather than spoke them. The Tao Tai first appeared amazed, and finally he actually trembled with fear. The entire scene was theatrical, but the climax caused those assembled more astonishment still. After a hurried whispered conversation the Chinese officials nodded pleasantly to Gen. Jones, and the Consul took his seat. His claim had been accepted.
We had already been considerably delayed in our progress to Nanking, so charming and hospitable had been Gen. Jones and his wife, and, in spite of warm invitations to remain longer, Mrs. McIlrath and I left Ching Kiang at noon on March 22. Gen. Jones had ordered the way cleared for us, sending ahead a native officer. We had several days of hot, dusty riding, which was made all the more difficult by the increased amount of baggage which we carried. Nanking, our objective point, is the Southern capital of the empire, the home of the Kai King rebels; the site of the famous porcelain palace and of the great Confucian temple, a city which is the greatest of all Chinese educational points, as well as the most historical, offering opportunity for the examination of 28,000 students at one place at one time. Before entering the city we visited the Ming tomb, the burial place of the Emperor Hung Woo, who reigned during the fourteenth century, and dying at the Imperial Palace was interred at the foot of the Purple mountain. The tomb itself is simply a small hill, with nothing extraordinary appearing about its graceful, rolling eminence. Tradition has it, however, that in its depth reposes a magnificent vault, which has been completely covered by the faithful subjects who visited the tomb, each one depositing a handful of earth upon and about the vault. I bore a letter of introduction from one of my missionary friends to a Mr. Ferguson, an American resident of Nanking, through whose kind offices we were enabled to see nearly, if not all, the points of interest in the historical Chinese city, visiting the Bell tower, Drum tower and Examination Halls before our departure.
As Tai Ping Foo, our next stopping place, was 68 miles southwest, and over uncertain roads, we decided to remain the second night at the home of Mr. Ferguson, and it was not until March 23 that we took our leave. We were unable to get further than fifteen miles of Tai Ping Foo on account of the muddy roads. The clay collected by our tires blocked the opening in forks and frames, the sprockets were thick discs of the yellow, sticky mass, and every fifty feet we were compelled to scrape the mud off in order to move a wheel. Removing the chain from each wheel helped matters slightly, but so frequently did the cleaning process become necessary, that we no longer used a stick for the work, but simply scraped the mud from our tires and frames with our hands. Darkness overtook us andadded to our discomfort. The path, only three feet wide, and built as an embankment, was as difficult to keep upon as a greased plank. Mrs. McIlrath and I fell time and again. Bridges had to be crossed on hands and knees, and so clogged with mud were our shoes that our legs ached from lifting our feet. We encountered many difficulties since leaving Chicago, but none so hopeless and with so little promise of a night’s rest as the time we tried to make Tai Ping Foo. Mrs. McIlrath gave way to her feelings, and sat down upon one of the muddy embankments and indulged in a good cry. We wandered through the mud and rain the greater part of the night, plunging through rice fields and patches of mustard plants, guided only by the feeble light shed by our bicycle lamps. A bad fall broke the glass in my lantern, and we were then forced to proceed only by the dim rays cast by the lamp on Mrs. McIlrath’s wheel. Toward morning we came to a halt in front of a mud hut, through the bamboo doors of which we could see the dying embers of a fire. I shouted several times before I could raise any of the occupants. A generous display of silver pieces persuaded them to let us enter. The wife arose, cooked us food, and made places for us to sleep on the floor, with the fire at our feet. I had expected my bill to be something enormous for this great accommodation, and I was all but stunned when our host demanded only 600 cash. This was equivalent to about 60 cents of Uncle Sam’s money, which amount will keep a large Chinese family for a week. Tai Ping Foo by this time was only three miles away, and without further incident we reached the city, and though we had been awake the lesser part of the day, we were soon ready for another night’s rest in more comfortable quarters.
A good stone road for seven miles rendered it possible for us to ride out of Tai Ping Foo the next morning, but by 10 o’clock we came again to the sea of mud, and were forced to resume our walk. We were successful in executing our plans to reach the river by dusk, for we had concluded to take no more chances in seeking shelter with the farmers. It was comparatively easy to obtain a boat to sleep on, and the yellow-skinned bandits took advantage of our position immediately. They seemed to realize just how badly we wanted a boat, and forthwith they put the price up to the excessive sum of four dollars. But boat we had to have, and I paid the sum, stipulating, however, that they were to carry us to Wuhu, seven miles distant, and land us by daybreak. For the only time in my dealings with these rascally natives they kept their word. When we waked we were in the midst of the shipping anchored about Wuhu. On shore I spied the Chinese imperial custom-house, and who should be stalking up and down the paved court before it but our English friendBurton, whom we had met in Shanghai! The meeting with him spoiled our plans for an immediate visit to Dr. E. H. Hart, surgeon of the American Methodist Hospital, as he introduced me to Mr. A. Knight Greyson, agent of the Jardine-Mattison Transportation Company. So genial was this hearty Britisher and his wife in their invitation to luncheon that we could not refuse, and in their cosy home, on the hulk of the old ship Madras, we ate the first good meal we had enjoyed for three days. Our letter of introduction was later presented to Dr. and Mrs. Hart, who not only received us with open arms, but placed fresh linen and clean clothes at our disposal.
It was necessary for us to remain three days in Wuhu. Our wheels needed a thorough cleaning, my correspondence had to be attended to, and our shoes and clothes were long past due for repairs. During our stay we were dined on board H. M. S. Daphne and the U. S. S. Detroit. Visits to us at Dr. Hart’s from officers of the British gunboat, Commander Newell of the Detroit, Lieutenant-Commander Hawley, Lieutenants Evans and Desmukes, the British Consul, Mr. Mortimore, and the members of the various missions made time fly rapidly, and though the weather was most inclement, we were loathe to leave on April 11, when the sun at last showed himself. Hard riding, favored by delightful weather, brought us to Hankow within the week. My generosity in this part of the country turned out to be dangerous to the comfort of Mrs. McIlrath, as it almost exhausted my stock of medicines. We had stopped one Sunday on one of the boats moored in the river, and I was there mistaken for a doctor. The mistake was somewhat excusable, as Mrs. McIlrath, in a spirit of mischief, had told some of the fishermen that I was a “medicine man.” I had taken a short walk on shore during the forenoon, and upon my return to the boat I found the “sick for the day” mustered in line along the beach. One child, suffering from what the missionary doctors call “rice stomach,” or, in plainer English, indigestion, was the first to attract my attention. I sounded the little fellow’s abdomen, which was so swollen that his waist girth exceeded his chest measure by fourteen inches, and prescribed and administered a dose for him. One of the sailor’s wives was afflicted with the “cash eye,” a poisoned and inflamed condition of the eye brought about by handling the dirty copper coin and then rubbing the eye with the contaminated fingers. The last of my patients was a young man who suffered from a toothache. I became on the spot a practicing dentist, cutting the gum away from the tooth with my pocket knife, and wrenching the offender from the poor chap’s jaw with a pair of bladed pliers, which we carried in our repair kit.
At one of the villages we had passed before arriving at Hankowwe fell in with a companion named Cunningham. His other name I do not remember, and it is just as well for his own sake that I do not, as I cannot help saying that Cunningham proved himself to be the most annoying part of our baggage. He was a good wheelman, but absolutely without “backbone,” and in the serious encounters which we had with the natives, many of them being out-and-out fist fights, Cunningham proved the exception to the rule that Englishmen all are brave fellows and handy with their fists. He did the most injudicious things, and was directly responsible for several of our skirmishes. I may mention that we parted with him finally the day he chided Mrs. McIlrath for not coming to his assistance when he had been set upon and knocked down by a band of ruffianly coolies. Monday, May 18, 1896, I have down in my diary as one of the warmest I have ever passed through. The air was so humid and close that riding offered the only method of creating a breeze. The hot tea we drank at the villages did not alleviate our sufferings, and at my suggestion we passed the day in hard pedaling. Toward the evening we came upon a grove of gunbarrel trees, so called because the trunks are hollow like a gun barrel. The grove is situated upon the banks of a creek, and here we went into camp. The weather remained torrid, and for two days we rested in the forest. A settlement, not far distant, contained a market, at which we purchased our supplies, and the camping out was thus attended by much less inconvenience than one would imagine.