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 and added 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 friend Burton,
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 Hankow we
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.