of Chang Te Fu. On one occasion, when visiting the place, he found the
neighbors all busy placing around their fields little sticks with tiny
flags. They believed this would keep the locusts from eating their
grain. All urged Li-ming to do the same, and to worship the locust god,
or his grain would be destroyed. Li-ming replied: "I worship the one
only true God, and I will pray him to keep my grain, that you may know
that he only is God."
The locusts came and ate on all sides of Li-ming's grain, but did not
touch his. When Mr. Goforth heard this story he determined to get
further proof, so he visited the place for himself, and inquired of
Li-ming's heathen neighbors what they knew of the matter. One and all
testified that, when the locusts came, their grain was eaten and
Li-ming's was not.
The Lord Jesus once said, after a conflict with unbelief and hypocrisy:
"I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, because thou hast hid
these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto
babes."
Our little Gracie became ill with a terribly fatal disease, so common in
malarious districts--enlarged spleen. The doctors pronounced her
condition quite hopeless. One day a Chinese Christian woman came in with
her little child, of about the same age as our Gracie, and very ill with
the same disease. The poor mother was in great distress, for the doctor
had told her also that there was no hope. She thought that if we would
plead with the doctor he could save her child. At last Mr. Goforth
pointed to our little Gracie, saying: "Surely, if the doctor cannot save
our child, neither can he save yours; your only hope and ours is in the
Lord himself."
The mother was a poor, hard-working, ignorant woman, but she had the
simple faith of a little child. Some few weeks later she called again,
and told me the following story:
"When the pastor told me my only hope was in the Lord, I believed him.
When I reached home I called my husband, and together we had committed
our child into the Lord's hands. I felt perfectly sure the child would
get well, so I did not take more care of him than of a well child. In
about two weeks he seemed so perfectly well that I took him to the
doctor again, and the doctor said that he could discover nothing the
matter with him."
That Chinese child is now a grown-up, healthy man. And _our child
died_. Yet we had prayed for her as few, perhaps, have prayed for any
child. Why, then, was she not spared? I do not know. But I do know that
there was in my life, at that time, the sin of bitterness toward
another, and an unwillingness to forgive a wrong. This was quite
sufficient to hinder any prayer, and did hinder for years, until it was
set right.
Does this case of unanswered prayer shake my faith in God's willingness
and power to answer prayer? No, no! My own child might just as
reasonably decide never again to come to me with a request because I
have, in my superior wisdom, denied a petition. Is it not true, in our
human relationships with our children, that we see best to grant at one
time what we withhold at another? "What I do thou knowest not now, but
thou shalt know hereafter."
And one of the most precious experiences of God's loving mercy came to
me in connection with our little Gracie's death. We had been warned that
the end would probably come in convulsions; two of our dear children had
been so taken. Only a mother who has gone through such an experience can
fully understand the horror of the possibility that such might come
again at any time.
One evening I was watching beside our little one, Miss P---- being with
me, when suddenly the child said very decidedly: "Call Papa; I want to
see Papa." I hesitated to rouse her father, as it was his time to rest;
so I tried to put her off with some excuse; but again she repeated her
request, and so I called her father, asking him to walk up and down with
her until I returned.
Going into the next room I cried in an agony to the Lord not to let
Gracie suffer; but, if it was indeed his will to take the child, then to
do so without her suffering. As I prayed a wonderful peace came over me,
and the promise came so clearly it was as if spoken: "Before they call I
will answer; and while they are yet speaking I will hear." Rising, I was
met at the door by Miss P----who said: "Gracie is with Jesus." While I
was on my knees our beloved child, after resting a few moments in her
father's arms, had looked into his face with one of her loveliest
smiles, and then quietly closed her eyes and had ceased to breathe. No
struggle, no pain, but a "falling on sleep."
"Like as a father pitieth, . . . so the Lord pitieth."
* * * * *
Ever-darkening clouds gathered about us during the months following
Gracie's death; and while the storm did not burst in all its fury till
the early summer of 1900, yet the preceding winter was full of
forebodings and constant alarms.
On one occasion thousands gathered inside and outside our mission,
evidently bent on serious mischief. My husband and his colleagues moved
in and out all that day among the dense crowd which filled the front
courtyards; while we women remained shut within closed houses, not
knowing what moment the mob would break loose and destroy us all. What
kept them back that day? What but trustful prayer! And the Lord heard
that day, and wonderfully restrained the violence of our enemies.
We did not know then, but those experiences were preparing us for the
greater trials and perils awaiting us all.
V
OUR DELIVERANCE FROM THE BOXERS (1900)
"God is unto us a God of deliverances" (Psa.
68:20, R. V.).
"Who delivered us out of so great a death, and
will deliver: on whom we have set our hope that he
will also still deliver" (2 Cor. 1:10, R. V.).
MANY times we were asked in the homeland to tell the story of our escape
during the Boxer uprising, and often the question was put, "If it was
really God's power that saved you and others on that journey, then why
did he not save those of his children who were so cruelly done to
death?"
For a time this question troubled me. Why indeed? One day when seeking
for light on the matter I was directed to the twelfth chapter of Acts.
There I found the only answer that can be given. We are told in the
second verse that James was put to death by the sword; then the rest of
the chapter is given to the detailed record of Peter's wonderful
deliverance in answer to prayer (vs. 5, 12). In that day when all things
shall be revealed I am convinced we shall see that _prayer_ had much to
do in the working out of our deliverance. When the first cable was
received in Canada informing the home church of our party starting on
that perilous journey, we are told a great wave of prayer went up for us
from Christians of all denominations. The Presbyterian Assembly of
Canada was meeting at the time, and one session was given up entirely to
prayer on behalf of the missionaries in China. Never had that body
witnessed such a season of intense, united intercession.
Later when giving the story of our escape in the homeland, repeatedly we
have had people come to us telling how, during the weeks which elapsed
between the first cable informing the home church of our danger, and the
second cable, which told of our safe arrival at the coast, they had
never ceased to cry to God to save us. Then, too, after all is said, we
must believe God was glorified and God's purposes were fulfilled in the
death of some as in the saved lives of others. The blood of the martyrs
is still the seed of the Church.
It was in the month of June, 1895, that an incident occurred which has
ever been linked in my mind with the events of 1900. I was about to
leave Toronto with my four children to join my husband in China, when a
cable was received telling of the cruel massacre of Mr. and Mrs. Stewart
and others. Deep and widespread sympathy was expressed and much anxiety
felt for missionaries generally in China. Many urged me to delay our
return; but I felt it best to keep to our original plans, and a few days
later found us bidding farewell to friends at the Union Station,
Toronto.
Just as the train was leaving a lady stepped forward quickly to the
window and said, "You do not know me, but I have prayed the Lord to give
me a promise for you; it is this, take it as from Him," and handed me a
slip of paper. I opened the paper and read, "No weapon that is formed
against thee shall prosper" (Isa. 54:17). Then and there I raised my
heart to God in prayer that he would fulfil this promise to me and those
dear to me; and as I prayed there came the clear assurance that the Lord
heard.
Never can we forget that winter of 1899-1900. The clouds had begun to
gather, and the mutterings of the coming storm were heard on all sides
of us. Repeatedly we were as a mission in gravest danger, and at such
times were literally "shut up to God." The temper of the people was such
that any little thing angering them would have been as a spark to
gunpowder.
From the time of the government crisis of the autumn of 1899, we, in
company with all other foreigners in China, realized that conditions
were becoming serious, yet never did we expect or prepare for such a
cataclysm as took place when the storm clouds suddenly burst in the
early summer of 1900.
The first indication we had of coming danger was when our mail carriers
running to and from Tientsin were stopped and our mails returned. Thus,
cut off from the outside world, we had to depend solely upon the wild
rumors afloat among the Chinese for information. The country around us
became daily more disturbed; day by day we could hear the beating of
drums and the cries of the people for rain. The darkness and horror of
those days, in the midst of which sickness and death entered our home,
can never be forgotten. On the nineteenth of June our eldest daughter,
Florence, after a week of intense suffering, was released from pain. It
was while her life was still hanging in the balance that we received the
first communication from the American Consul in Chefoo urging us to
flee. This message was quickly followed by another still more urgent.
The question was, where could we flee? Our usual route was by river boat
two weeks to Tientsin, but this way was blocked, the whole region being
infested with Boxers, and Tientsin even then in a state of siege. The
only possible route left open to us was southward by cart,--fourteen
days to Fan-cheng,--then ten or more days by houseboat to Hankow. We
faced such a journey at that time of the year with fear and trembling
because of the children, the danger from heat and sun being very great.
Gladly would we have stayed, but the Chinese Christians urged us to go,
saying they could escape more easily were we not there.
We had with us our four remaining children: Paul, nine; Helen, six;
Ruth, under three; and baby Wallace, eight months. Their faithful
Chinese nurse, though weeping bitterly at parting from her old mother of
almost eighty, decided to come with us. There were altogether in the
party five men, six women, and five children, besides the servants and
carters.
Many were the difficulties in the way of getting carts and other
necessary things for the journey, but one by one all things needed were
provided as we besought the Lord to open the way. There were many
indications on that journey that God's purpose was to save us; one of
the most striking of these happened just as we were about to leave.
The day previous to our departure a message passed through the city of
Chang Te Ho, the messenger riding at breakneck speed. This messenger, we
learned later, was en-route for the Provincial Capital with the sealed
message from the Empress Dowager commanding the death of all foreigners.
We had planned first to take the direct route south, which would, as far
as we can now see, have led us to our death, for this route would have
taken us through the capital. Almost at the last moment, and quite
unaware of the danger on the direct route, we were led to change our
plans and take a route farther west, though it made a considerably
longer journey.
We left Chang Te, June 28, 1900, at daybreak. At Wei Hwei Fu, the first
large city to which we came, an attempt was made to break into our inn,
but as we prayed the mob dispersed and we were left in peace. On July
first we reached the north bank of the Yellow River, and there for a
short time (it was Sunday afternoon) we rested under the trees. Little
did we dream that even then many, very many, of our fellow-missionaries
and personal friends were being done to death by the merciless Boxers.
At sunset the ferry which carried us across the river reached the south
bank, and here we found several missionaries and a party of engineers
waiting for us. These latter were fully armed and had a fair escort.
After some difficulty it was decided that we should all keep together,
but in reality this party kept by themselves, except that we stayed in
the same towns at night. Each day that passed seemed harder than the
last, the heat was intense, and the ten or twelve hours of bumping over
rough roads in springless carts made even a bed spread on the ground a
welcome resting-place.
Once, when Mr. Goforth had jumped off our cart to get fresh water for
our head cloths, a crowd gathered round him and became very threatening,
raising the cry, "Kill, kill." All the other carts were ahead, and the
carter would not wait for Mr. Goforth, as he was afraid. During the few
moments that elapsed before my husband was allowed to join us even the
carter turned pale with suspense,--and oh, how I prayed!
Except for a few similar passing dangers, nothing special occurred until
the evening of July seventh, when we reached the small town of Hsintien.
We had heard during the day that the whole country ahead of us was in a
state of ferment against the Roman Catholics. Scarcely had we reached
the inn when the engineers and the missionaries with them who had
become increasingly alarmed at the condition of the country, informed us
that they were going on to the large city of Nan Yang Fu that night, but
would leave us two soldiers and two of their carts. Mr. Goforth did not
wish them to go, for he felt it would greatly increase our danger.
Shortly after they left us the mob began to gather outside our inn. The
gate was barricaded with carts. For hours stones were thrown against the
gate and demand was made for our money. A messenger was at once sent
after the engineers' party, asking them to return. All that night was
spent in sleepless suspense.
Early in the morning the messenger returned with the reply that they had
failed to get help from the Nan Yang Fu official and were obliged to
push on. As soon as the carters heard we were thus left helpless a panic
seized them, and it was with great difficulty they could be persuaded to
harness their animals. All this time the crowd had been becoming more
dense, as we could see through the cracks of the gate, and were
ominously quiet. Hints had been given us of coming danger, but that was
all; none spoke of what all felt,--that we were probably going to our
death.
Suddenly, without the slightest warning, I was seized with an
overwhelming fear of what might be awaiting us. It was not the fear of
_after_ death, but of probable torture, that took such awful hold of me.
I thought, "Can this be the Christian courage I have looked for?" I went
by myself and prayed for victory, but no help came. Just then some one
called us to a room for prayer before getting into our carts. Scarcely
able to walk for trembling, and utterly ashamed that others should see
my state of panic,--for such it undoubtedly was,--I managed to reach a
bench beside which my husband stood. He drew from his pocket a little
book, "Clarke's Scripture Promises," and read the verses his eye first
fell upon. They were the following:
"The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms:
and he shall thrust out the enemy from before thee; and shall say,
Destroy them."
"The God of Jacob is our refuge."
"Thou art my help and my deliverer; make no tarrying, O my God."
"I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee
with the right hand of my righteousness. . . . The Lord thy God will hold
thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee."
"If God be for us, who can be against us?"
"We may boldly say, The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man
shall do unto me."
The effect of these words at such a time was remarkable. All realized
that God was speaking to us. Never was there a message more directly
given to mortal man from his God than that message to us. From almost
the first verse my whole soul seemed flooded with a great peace; all
trace of panic vanished; and I felt God's presence was with us. Indeed,
his presence was so real it could scarcely have been more so had we seen
a visible form.
After prayer we all got on our carts, and one by one passed out into the
densely crowded street. As we approached the city gate we could see that
the road was black with crowds awaiting us. I had just remarked to my
husband on how well we were getting through the crowds, when our carts
passed through the gates. My husband turned pale as he pointed to a
group of several hundred men, fully armed, awaiting us. They waited till
all the carts had passed through the gate, then hurled down upon us a
shower of stones, at the same time rushing forward and maiming or
killing some of the animals. Mr. Goforth jumped down from our cart and
cried to them, "Take everything, but don't kill." His only answer was a
blow. The confusion that followed was so great it would be impossible to
describe the escape of each one in detail. Each one later had his or her
own testimony of that mighty and merciful deliverance. But I must give
the details of Mr. Goforth's experience.
One man struck him a blow on the neck with a great sword wielded with
two hands. "Somehow" the blunt edge of the sword struck his neck; the
blow left a wide mark almost around his neck, but did no further harm.
Had the sharp edge struck his neck he would certainly have been
beheaded!
His thick helmet was cut almost to pieces, one blow cutting through the
leather lining _just over the temple_, but without even scratching the
skin!
Again he was felled to the ground, with a fearful sword cut, which
entered the bone of the skull behind and almost cleft it in two. As he
fell he seemed to hear distinctly a voice saying, "Fear not, they are
praying for you." Rising from this blow, he was again struck down by a
club. As he was falling almost unconscious to the ground he saw a horse
coming at full speed toward him; when he became conscious again he found
the horse had tripped and fallen (on level ground) so near that its tail
almost touched him. The animal, kicking furiously, had served as a
barrier between him and his assailants. While dazed and not knowing what
to do a man came up as if to strike, but whispered, "Leave the carts."
By that time the onlookers began to rush forward to get the loot, but
the attacking party felt the things were theirs, so desisted in their
attack upon us in order to secure their booty.
A word as to myself and the children. Several fierce men with swords
jumped on my cart. One struck at the baby, but I parried the blow with a
pillow, and the little fellow only received a slight scratch on the
forehead. Then they dropped their swords and began tearing at our goods
at the back of the cart. Heavy boxes were dragged over us, and
everything was taken. Just then a dreadful looking man tried to reach us
from the back of the cart with his sword, missing by an inch. I thought
he would come to the front and continue his attack, but he did not. I
had seen Mr. Goforth sink to the ground covered with blood twice, and
had given him up for dead. Just then Paul, who had been in the last
cart, jumped in, wild with delight at what he seemed to think was great
fun, for he had run through the thick of the fight, dodging sword
thrusts from all sides, and had succeeded in reaching me without a
scratch. A moment later my husband came to the edge of the cart scarcely
able to stand, saying, "Get down quickly; we must not delay in getting
away." As I was getting down one man snatched away my hat, another my
shoes; but we were allowed to go.
Ruth was nowhere to be seen, and we hoped she was with the missionaries
who had charge of her at the time of attack. I saw that Mr. Goforth's
strength was failing fast, for he could scarcely walk, and as men began
to follow I urged him forward with the baby and the other two children,
and turning faced the men, begging them to have mercy on my children,
for they had begun to stone us. Some of us were black for days from the
blows received then. They stopped and listened, then the leader said,
"We've killed her husband, let her go." With this they ran back to the
carts.
I knew Mr. Goforth could not go far. We could see a small village not
far distant, and to this we hastened, praying as we went that the Lord
would open the hearts of the people to receive us. Here again Paul
seemed to feel no fear, but said, "Mother, what does this put you in
mind of? It puts me in mind of the Henty books!"
As we neared the village men came out to drive us away, but I begged
them to help us. By this time Mr. Goforth had sunk to the ground.
Putting the baby in an old woman's arms, I knelt down beside my husband.
The children were crying bitterly. Mr. Goforth looked as if he were
dying. The women standing round us were weeping now. This was too much
for the men, who came forward saying, "We will save you." One ran and
got some stuff to put in the wounds, assuring us it would stop the flow
of blood, and it did. This man helped me to bandage up the wounds with
bandages made from garments taken from myself and the children. They
helped my husband, and we followed them into a little hut, where they
laid him on a straw bed and locked us in. Hot water for bathing our
bruises, food and drink were handed us through a small window, and we
could hear them planning how they would save us. We told them how
anxious we were to hear of our friends and little Ruth, so they sent a
man to inquire.
We found that these people--the whole village--were Mohammedans, and had
taken no part in the attack. We felt that God had wonderfully directed
our steps to that village.
All that day Mr. Goforth lay still, but looked at times so very white
that I feared the worst. Never for one moment, I believe, during that
day did I cease to pray for his life. And when Mr. ----, one of our
party, arrived about four o'clock looking for us, Mr. Goforth at once
got up as if perfectly well, insisting on walking to the cart. To me,
knowing how he had looked that day, it seemed only a miracle. His only
answer to my protest was, "Only pray; the Lord will give me strength, as
long as he has work for me to do."
As we were leaving, the kind friends of the village gathered round
insisting on my taking some old clothes to put round the children, who
were almost naked, saying, "It will be chilly at night." As we went
forward to join the others, Mr. ---- told us how one by one all had
escaped. Dr. ---- was the only one beside Mr. Goforth seriously injured,
the poor fellow having had his kneecap severed and the tendons of his
right wrist badly cut, besides many other wounds.
All that day our friends had been waiting by the roadside, unable to
proceed without carts, owing to the doctor's condition. They had joined
in one petition, that God would move the carters to come. Those who know
China and heathen carters will readily acknowledge that it was nothing
short of a miracle--the miracle of answered prayer--that made these
heathen carters come, after all they had already gone through. For come
they did, five of them, all that were needed, now that our luggage was
gone. We learned too, that our faithful Chinese nurse, who had charge of
Ruth, had saved the child at the risk of her own life, lying upon the
child and taking many cruel blows, till greed for loot drew the men off.
We soon joined the rest of the party, and by six o'clock that evening we
reached the large city of Nang Yang Fu. The city wall was black with
people, and as we entered the gate the wild crowds crushed against our
carts. Sometimes the animals staggered, and it seemed as if nothing
could save the carts from being overturned. Every moment or two a brick
or stone would be hurled against the carts, and that cry, "Kill, kill,"
which can never be forgotten when once heard, was shouted by perhaps
hundreds of voices. Yet the Lord brought us through, and "no weapon
prospered."