From Changteh we went by passenger boat to Changsha, and had two little cabins which we converted into one for the voyage. The whole of the roof was covered with third-class passengers and their belongings; at night they spread their bedding, and in the daytime squatted about or wandered round the very narrow gangway outside the cabins, a proceeding which left us in a darkened condition. Yao managed to prepare us savoury meals in some minute nook, having brought the necessary stores and a tiny stove on which to cook them. The day after leaving Changteh we crossed the wonderful lake of Tong Ting, a lake more than two thousand square miles in extent during the summer, and non-existent in winter. This strange and unique phenomenon is due to an overflow of the Yangtze, and in the summer there is a regular steamship service across the lake, connecting Changsha with Hankow, two hundred and twenty-two miles distant, by the river Siang and a tributary of the Yangtze. Eventually they will be connected by a railway, which is to run from Hankow to Canton, and of which the southern part is already in existence—and also a short section from Changsha to Chuchow; this is only thirty-eight miles and is mainly valuable on account of its connexion with a branch line to the Ping Siang collieries.
Changsha is an important city, the capital of Hunan. It is large and clean, the centre of considerable trade, and one of the newest treaty ports, opened in 1904. The variety of its exports is interesting: rice, tea, paper, tobacco, lacquer, cotton-cloth, hemp, paulownia oil, earthenware, timber, coal, iron and antimony. I was anxious to buy some of the beautiful grass cloth for which it is noted, and was taken by a friend to some of the big shops, but found them busily packing up all their goods, in case their shops should be looted by the approaching Southern troops. Such doings are by no means uncommon, and all Americans and Europeans seemed to take it as a matter of course. Arrangements were being made to receive terrified refugees into mission premises, and the Red Cross was extremely busy preparing for the wounded. The rumours as to the Governor fleeing varied from hour to hour, and it soon became plain that the city would be undefended. Our kind American hosts, Mr. and Mrs. Lingle, were having little Red Cross flags made to put up as signals on places of refuge, and he came in to tell us how the tailor who was making them had just appealed to him for help: a retreating soldier thought to make hay while the sun shone, and was taking possession of the sewing-machine, demanding that it should be carried away for him by the tailor’s assistant. Mr. Lingle also prevented another sewing-machine being stolen: evidently they were in great request.
No more striking proof could be seen of the progress of Christianity in China than the difference of attitude shown towards missions in time of danger and difficulty. When I first visited China a mission station was the most dangerous place to live in; now it is the place of safety par excellence, to which all the Chinese flock when they are in danger. An interesting illustration of this took place last year. In a certain district in Shensi a notorious band of robbers came to a Baptist Missionary and a Roman Catholic priest, and promised to save the town where they were working if they would procure for them six rifles. They succeeded in getting the rifles, and took them to the brigands. When they attempted to use them, the brigands found they had been tampered with, and decided to loot the town in consequence. They respected, however, their promise to the men who had brought them, evidently believing in their good faith, and said they would spare all the Christians. The problem was how to recognize them, for at once there were a large number who claimed to be Christians. The robbers decided by looking at them who was genuine and who was not. In cases of uncertainty they appealed to the missionaries, who assure us that they had proved quite accurate in their judgment. Christianity ought to mould the expression of a face.
There are many missions of various nationalities at Changsha, and all seemed extremely prosperous, most of them in large and handsome buildings. The girls’ school, of which our hostess was the head, stood in spacious grounds outside the city wall, and near it is the imposing pile of the Yale mission buildings. The mission started in 1905 when Dr. Gaze began the medical work, a hospital was opened in 1908, and the first students graduated in 1912: it is essentially a medical school, and differs from others as regards the staff in having short course men sent out from Yale University as volunteers. They are not necessarily missionaries. There are fine laboratories for research work, a large new building for science students, splendid up-to-date equipment in all branches of medical and surgical work, schools for male and female nurses, beautiful houses for the large staff of professors, library, a really beautiful chapel, lecture rooms, dormitories, playing grounds, tennis courts; in fact everything that can be desired on the most lavish scale, the greatest conceivable contrast to every other mission I have seen in China. There is a special ward for Europeans. The new Rockefeller hospital in Peking is to outshine it in beauty, I believe, but will find it difficult to equal it in all-round equipment, and of course will lack the acreage, which makes many things possible in Changsha which are impossible in Peking. “The Hunan Provincial Government has met all the local expenses of the College of Medicine and the Hospital for the last six years.” The Rockefeller Foundation has provided funds for salaries of additional medical staff, and Yale Foreign Missionary Society academic teachers and a few of the medical staff. The fees of the patients cover about half the running expenses of the hospital. “The campus of Yale in China in the north suburb is on rising ground between the railroad and the river, where its buildings are conspicuous to travellers arriving by either train or steamer” (see Yale College in China). The only drawback seems to be lack of patients.
One of the finest pieces of mission work I saw was Dr. Keller’s Bible School, which is supported by a Society in Los Angeles: it is for the training of Chinese evangelists for all missionary societies, and they divide the time of training between study and practical work. They looked a fine body of men, and have been greatly appreciated by the missionaries for whom they have worked. Application for their help is made to the school, and they do not go unasked into any district occupied by a society. When asked to conduct a mission, a band of men is sent, and their modus operandi is as follows: they make a map of the district, taking an area of about three square miles—and after a day spent in prayer the men visit systematically every house in that area and try to get on friendly terms with old and young, giving them some portion of Scripture and inviting them to an evening meeting. As soon as the people have become interested, evening classes are started respectively for men, women, boys and girls. The children are taught to sing, as they very quickly learn hymns and like to practise the new art both early and late. The special feature of their work is that they go as Friends to the people, and as their own race; and it is to Chinese only that many Chinese will listen. The character of many a village has been changed, the missionaries say, by these national messengers, where they themselves have been utterly unable to get a hearing. This is an important feature of present-day missionary enterprise, and is the link between the Past Phase of foreign evangelization and the Future Phase of home Chinese mission work. Changsha is full of foreign workers of many nationalities, but mainly American.
Dr. Keller’s work has been greatly strengthened in the eyes of the Chinese by the noble example of his mother, whose spirit has impressed them far more than any words could have done. When her son was home for his last furlough, he felt that he could not leave her alone, an old lady of eighty, recently widowed, and he decided to give up his mission work for the time being. She would not agree to this, but decided to go out with him and make her home in China for the remainder of her life. Who can gauge the sacrifice of giving up home and friends at such a time of life and going to an unknown land where men spoke an unknown tongue? She had to undergo very great hardships at first, and now after four years the solitude presses heavily on her. At first she was able to read a great deal and lived in her books; but she told us that now her sight is failing the time seems very long.
We visited a Danish mission of some size, Norwegian Y.M.C.A. workers, and a Russian lady in charge of a little blind school. She had had no word from home for the last two years, but was pluckily sticking to her task. The London Missionary Society has withdrawn from work in Hunan, but the Wesleyan Mission has a high reputation under the charge of Dr. Warren. He is one of the men who takes a special interest in the political side of Chinese life, and gave me much valuable information about the different parties. Just now the changes going on are so rapid that anything one put down would be out of date before it could be printed. The secret forces at work keeping up hostility between North and South were everywhere attributed to Japanese militarism: but it is only too obvious that the present Government is not strong or patriotic enough to deal with the situation. It is hard enough to carry on good government in so small and stable a country as our own, so need we wonder at the inability to transform the whole political and social system of the vastest country in the world.
Meanwhile the civil war is a very curious one, and happily does not cause the bloodshed one would expect, considering the forces engaged. We had some talk with our British Consul about the dangers of the road, as we wanted to go south to visit the sacred mountain of Hengshan and thence to cross fine mountain passes into the neighbouring province of Kwangshi. Mr. Giles told us that it would be hopeless to attempt it, as an English steamer had been fired on the day before in the very direction we must take. The Northern and Southern troops were in active fighting, and every day they were coming nearer to Changsha. The Governor would probably desert the city when the Southern army had driven back the Northern, and no one could say what would happen! After so discouraging a report it may seem strange that Mr. Giles said there was to be a reception at the Consulate next day, in honour of the King’s birthday, to which he invited us.
War seemed infinitely remote from the charming gathering, where all the foreign community met in the sunny garden on the river-bank. English hospitality is very delightful so far away from home, and the cordial spirit of the host and hostess lent a special attractiveness to the occasion. I was particularly pleased to meet a Chinese friend there, Miss Tseng, who invited us to visit her school next day. In Chapter VIII I have tried to give an account of this famous scion of a famous race.
With all the educational and religious and philanthropic institutions to be visited, it was most difficult to find time to see the monuments of the past, but we determined not to miss the beautiful golden-roofed temple, dedicated to Chia Yi, a great statesman of the second century B.C. It is now transformed into a school, and we saw the boys drilling; but they seemed an insignificant handful in those noble courtyards, and there were no signs of proper or even necessary equipment.