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.
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 was sentenced. 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
called our 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 the clay 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 the afternoon
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."