EXPERIENCES IN BUSINESS
The next turn I took, after leaving the Imperial Customs, was clerk in
an English house--tea and silk merchants. During the few months that I
was with them, I gained quite an insight into mercantile business, and
the methods of conducting it, which proved to be profitable knowledge
and experience to me later on. Six months after I had entered upon my
new sphere as a make-shift, the firm dissolved partnership, which once
more threw me out of a position, and I was again cast upon the sea of
uncertainty. But during my connection with the firm, two little
incidents occurred which I must not fail to relate.
One Thursday evening, as I was returning home from a prayer meeting held
in the Union Chapel in Shanghai, I saw ahead of me on Szechuen Road in
front of the Episcopal church, a string of men; each had a Chinese
lantern swinging in the air over his head, and they were singing and
shouting as they zigzagged along the road, evidently having a jolly,
good time, while Chinese on both sides of the road were seen dodging and
scampering about in great fright in all directions, and acting as though
they were chased by the Old Nick himself. I was at a distance of about
one hundred yards from the scene. I took in the situation at once. My
servant, who held a lantern ahead of me, to light the way, was so
frightened that he began to come back towards me. I told him not to be
afraid, but walk right straight ahead. Pretty soon we confronted three
or four of the fellows, half tipsy. One of them snatched the lantern
from my servant and another, staggering about, tried to give me a kick.
I walked along coolly and unconcerned till I reached the last batch of
two or three fellows. I found these quite sober and in their senses and
they were lingering behind evidently to enjoy the fun and watch the
crowd in their hilarious antics. I stopped and parleyed with them, and
told them who I was. I asked them for the names of the fellows who
snatched my boy’s lantern and of the fellow who tried to kick me. They
declined at first, but finally with the promise that I would not give
them any trouble, they gave me the name of one of the fellows, his
position on the vessel, and the name of the vessel he belonged to. It
turned out that the man was the first mate of the ship “Eureka,” the
very vessel that brought me out to China, in 1855, and which happened to
be consigned to the firm I was working for. The next morning, I wrote a
note to the captain, asking him to hand the note to his first officer.
The captain, on receiving the note, was quite excited, and handed it to
the first mate, who immediately came ashore and apologized. I made it
very pleasant for him and told him that Americans in China were held in
high esteem by the people, and every American landing in China should be
jealous of the high estimation in which they were held and not do
anything to compromise it. My motive in writing the note was merely to
get him on shore and give him this advice. He was evidently pleased with
my friendly attitude and extended his hand for a shake to thank me for
the advice. He invited me to go on board with him to take a glass of
wine and be good friends. I thanked him for his offer, but declined it,
and we parted in an amicable way.
My second incident, which happened a couple of months after the first,
did not have such a peaceful ending.
After the partnership of the firm, in whose employ I was, dissolved, an
auction sale of the furniture of the firm took place. In the room where
the auction was proceeding, I happened to be standing in a mixed crowd
of Chinese and foreigners. A stalwart six-footer of a Scotchman happened
to be standing behind me. He was not altogether a stranger to me, for I
had met him in the streets several times. He began to tie a bunch of
cotton balls to my queue, simply for a lark. But I caught him at it and
in a pleasant way held it up and asked him to untie it. He folded up his
arms and drew himself straight up with a look of the utmost disdain and
scorn. I at once took in the situation, and as my countenance sobered, I
reiterated my demand to have the appendage taken off. All of a sudden,
he thrust his fist against my mouth, without drawing any blood, however.
Although he stood head and shoulders above me in height, yet I was not
at all abashed or intimidated by his burly and contemptuous appearance.
My dander was up and oblivious to all thoughts of our comparative size
and strength, I struck him back in the identical place where he punched
me, but my blow was a stinger and it went with lightning rapidity to the
spot, without giving him time to think. It drew blood in great
profusion from lip and nose. He caught me by the wrist with both his
hands. As he held my right wrist in his powerful grasp, for he was an
athlete and a sportsman, I was just on the point of raising my right
foot for a kick, which was aimed at a vital point, when the head partner
of the firm, who happened to be near, suddenly stepped in between and
separated us. I then stood off to one side, facing my antagonist, who
was moving off into the crowd. As I moved away, I was asked by a voice
from the crowd:
“Do you want to fight?”
I said, “No, I was only defending myself. Your friend insulted me and
added injury to insult. I took him for a gentleman, but he has proved
himself a blackguard.”
With this stinging remark, which was heard all over the room, I retired
from the scene into an adjoining room, leaving the crowd to comment on
the incident. The British Consul, who happened to be present on the
occasion, made a casual remark on the merits of the case and said, as I
was told afterwards by a friend, that “The young man was a little too
fiery; if he had not taken the law into his own hands, he could have
brought suit for assault and battery in the consular court, but since he
has already retaliated and his last remark before the crowd has
inflicted a deeper cut to his antagonist than the blow itself, he has
lost the advantage of a suit.”
The Scotchman, after the incident, did not appear in public for a whole
week. I was told he had shut himself up in his room to give his wound
time to heal, but the reason he did not care to show himself was more on
account of being whipped by a little Chinaman in a public manner; for
the affair, unpleasant and unfortunate as it was, created quite a
sensation in the settlement. It was the chief topic of conversation for
a short time among foreigners, while among the Chinese I was looked upon
with great respect, for since the foreign settlement on the
extra-territorial basis was established close to the city of Shanghai,
no Chinese within its jurisdiction had ever been known to have the
courage and pluck to defend his rights, point blank, when they had been
violated or trampled upon by a foreigner. Their meek and mild
disposition had allowed personal insults and affronts to pass unresented
and unchallenged, which naturally had the tendency to encourage
arrogance and insolence on the part of ignorant foreigners. The time
will soon come, however, when the people of China will be so educated
and enlightened as to know what their rights are, public and private,
and to have the moral courage to assert and defend them whenever they
are invaded. The triumph of Japan over Russia in the recent war has
opened the eyes of the Chinese world. It will never tolerate injustice
in any way or shape, much less will it put up with foreign aggression
and aggrandizement any longer. They see now in what plight their
national ignorance, conceit and conservatism, in which they had been
fossilized, had placed them. They were on the verge of being partitioned
by the European Powers and were saved from that catastrophe only by the
timely intervention of the United States government. What the future
will bring forth, since the Emperor Kwangsu and Dowager Empress Chi Hsi
have both passed away, no one can predict.
The breaking up of the firm by which I was employed, once more, as
stated before, and for the fourth time, threw me out of a regular
business. But I was not at all disconcerted or discouraged, for I had no
idea of following a mercantile life as a permanent calling. Within the
past two years, my knowledge of the Chinese language had decidedly
improved. I was not in hot haste to seek for a new position. I
immediately took to translating as a means of bridging over the breaks
of a desultory life. This independent avocation, though not a lucrative
one, nevertheless led the way to a wider acquaintance with the educated
and mercantile classes of the Chinese; to widen my acquaintance was my
chief concern. My translating business brought me in contact with the
comprador of one of the leading houses in Shanghai. The senior partner
of this house died in 1857. He was well-known and thought much of by
both the Chinese and the foreign mercantile body. To attest their high
regard for his memory, the prominent Chinese merchants drew up an
elaborate and eulogistic epitaph on the occasion of his death. The
surviving members of the firm selected two translators to translate the
epitaph. One was the interpreter in the British Consulate General, a
brother to the author of “The Chinese and their Rebellions,” and the
other was (through the influence of the comprador) myself. To my great
surprise, my translation was given the preference and accepted by the
manager of the firm. The Chinese committee were quite elated that one
of their countrymen knew enough English to bring out the inner sense of
their epitaph. It was adopted and engraved on the monument. My name
began to be known among the Chinese, not as a fighter this time, but as
a Chinese student educated in America.
Soon after this performance, another event unexpectedly came up in which
I was again called upon to act; that was the inundation of the Yellow
River, which had converted the northern part of Kiangsu province into a
sea, and made homeless and destitute thousands of people of that
locality. A large body of refugees had wandered to and flocked near
Shanghai. A Chinese deputation, consisting of the leading merchants and
gentry, who knew or had heard of me, called and asked me to draw up a
circular appealing to the foreign community for aid and contributions to
relieve the widespread suffering among the refugees. Several copies were
immediately put into circulation and in less than a week, no less than
$20,000 were subscribed and paid. The Chinese Committee were greatly
elated over their success and their joy was unbounded. To give a
finishing touch to this stroke of business, I wrote in the name of the
committee a letter of acknowledgment and thanks to the foreign
community for the prompt and generous contribution it had made. This was
published in the Shanghai local papers--“The Shanghai Mail” and “Friend
of China”--so that inside of three months after I had started my
translating business, I had become widely known among the Chinese as the
Chinese student educated in America. I was indebted to Tsang Kee Foo,
the comprador, for being in this line of business, and for the fact that
I was becoming known in Shanghai. He was a well-educated Chinese--a man
highly respected and trusted for his probity and intelligence. His long
connection with the firm and his literary taste had gathered around him
some of the finest Chinese scholars from all parts of China, while his
business transactions brought him in touch with the leading Chinese
capitalists and business men in Shanghai and elsewhere. It was through
him that both the epitaph and the circular mentioned above were written;
and it was Tsang Kee Foo who introduced me to the celebrated Chinese
mathematician, Li Jen Shu, who years afterwards brought me to the notice
of Viceroy Tsang Kwoh Fan--the distinguished general and statesman, who,
as will be seen hereafter, took up and promoted the Chinese Education
Scheme. In the great web of human affairs, it is almost impossible to
know who among our friends and acquaintances may prove to be the right
clue to unravel the skein of our destiny. Tsang Kee Foo introduced me to
Li Jen Shu, the latter introduced me to Tsang Kwoh Fan, who finally
through the Chinese Education Scheme grafted Western education to the
Oriental culture, a union destined to weld together the different races
of the world into one brotherhood.
My friend Tsang Kee Foo afterwards introduced me to the head or manager
of Messrs. Dent & Co., who kindly offered me a position in his firm as
comprador in Nagasaki, Japan, soon after that country was opened to
foreign trade. I declined the situation, frankly and plainly stating my
reason, which was that the compradorship, though lucrative, is
associated with all that is menial, and that as a graduate of Yale, one
of the leading colleges in America, I could not think of bringing
discredit to my Alma Mater, for which I entertained the most profound
respect and reverence, and was jealous of her proud fame. What would the
college and my class-mates think of me, if they should hear that I was a
comprador--the head servant of servants in an English establishment? I
said there were cases when a man from stress of circumstances may be
compelled to play the part of a menial for a shift, but I was not yet
reduced to that strait, though I was poor financially. I told him I
would prefer to travel for the firm as its agent in the interior and
correspond directly with the head of the firm. In that case, I would not
sacrifice my manhood for the sake of making money in a position which is
commonly held to be servile. I would much prefer to pack tea and buy
silk as an agent--either on a salary or on commission. Such was my
ground for declining. I, however, thanked him for the offer. This
interview took place in the presence of my friend, Tsang Kee Foo, who
without knowing the details of the conversation, knew enough of the
English language to follow the general tenor of the talk. I then retired
and left the manager and my friend to talk over the result. Tsang
afterwards told me that Webb said, “Yung Wing is poor but proud. Poverty
and pride usually go together, hand in hand.” A few days afterwards
Tsang informed me that Webb had decided to send me to the tea districts
to see and learn the business of packing tea.