Foo Chow was a region frequently visited by typhoons, in consequence of which a municipal law required houses to be but one story high. During the latter part of our residence in China we experienced the terrors of a storm remarkable for its severity and in the course of which a portion of the Consulate was blown down. After spending some anxious hours in an underground passage in the middle of the night, we were finally obliged to take refuge in the Hong of Augustus Heard and Company. I shall never forget, as we sat in this lonely cellar with the elements raging above us, the imploring cries of my young children, "I want to go home." It was while this storm was raging that Mr. Gouverneur received the following note from George J. Weller, the representative of this well-known firm:—
My dear Mr. Gouverneur,
The Barometer is going up—the wind will probably abate a little soon, and perhaps then Mrs. G. and the children can come. Make the coolies carry the chair. Three can do it.
The semi-tropical climate of Foo Chow, however, did not agree with Mr. Gouverneur, in consequence of which we decided to return home. His campaign during the Mexican War had made serious inroads upon his health, from which he never entirely recovered. It was hoped that his life in the East would be beneficial, but it proved otherwise. Meanwhile, the Civil War was raging in the United States, but the news concerning it was very stale long before it reached us. We did not receive the particulars of the battle of Bull Run, for example, until three months after its occurrence. In view of the turbulent state of affairs at home, the government thought it important that Mr. Gouverneur should remain at his post of duty until the arrival of his successor, and he decided to do so. During these days of uncertainty, however, my husband deemed it wise that, if possible, I should return with the children on a ship sailing under the protection of the British flag, and I quite agreed with him. In due time the favorable opportunity presented itself, and I embarked for America in the British merchantman Mirage. The wisdom of Mr. Gouverneur's judgment was fully confirmed, as the next American vessel sailing from Foo Chow after my departure was captured by a Confederate privateer. When I went to China I took two little girls with me, and returned with three. At the birth of the last daughter we named her "Rose de Chine," in order to identify her more intimately with the land of her nativity. Soon after her birth, several Chinese asked me: "How many girls do you keep?"
We were the only passengers on the Mirage and, besides having very superior accommodations on board, we were treated with every consideration by its captain. We were three months upon the homeward voyage and the captain called it smooth sailing. We fell in with many vessels en route and, to quote our skipper, we found them "like human beings, some very friendly and others stern and curt." When in mid-ocean we passed an American vessel, the Anna Decatur, which seemed like a welcome from home as it was named after a former New York friend of mine, Anna Pine Decatur, a niece of Commodore Stephen Decatur, who married Captain William H. Parsons of the merchant service. Lieutenant Stephen Decatur, U.S.N., a brother of Anna Pine Decatur, was a constant visitor at our house in Houston Street in my young days. During one of his cruises he was stricken with a serious illness which resulted in total blindness. He subsequently married but, although he never had the pleasure of seeing his wife and children, his genial nature was not changed by his affliction. In 1869 he became a Commodore on the retired list, but some of the family connection objected to his use of this title, as in their opinion the world should recognize only one Commodore Stephen Decatur, the naval hero of 1812.
As we neared New York harbor I became decidedly impatient and was congratulating myself one morning that our long voyage was almost over, when I noticed that the usually pleasant expression on the captain's face had changed to one of extreme anxiety. I inquired: "What is wrong, Captain?" and to my dismay he replied: "Everything!" He then told me we were just outside the pilot grounds, but that in all his experience, even in Chinese waters, he had never known the barometer to fall so low; and, to add to his anxiety, there was no pilot within sight! It was a very cold February morning, the thermometer having reached the zero mark, and I went at once to my cabin to prepare for the worst. The captain meanwhile commenced to make preparations for a severe storm, but before we realized it the tempest was upon us and our vessel was blown far out to sea, where for three days we were at the mercy of the elements. The rudder was tied, the hatches battened down and there was nothing left to do but to sit with folded hands and trust to that Providence whom even the waters obey.
I remember sitting in my stateroom one of those terrible nights entirely alone and without even the comforting sound of a human voice. Our life preservers were within reach, but I fully realized that they would be of but little avail in such a raging sea. During those anxious moments, with my little children sound asleep in the adjoining cabin and quite oblivious of impending danger, I wondered whether it would be my destiny to close my earthly career on Rockaway Beach, near the spot where I had first seen the light of day; but soon after those anxious moments I was indeed grateful, as the captain told me that if the wind had been in another quarter all of us would have perished within a few hours. Gradually the winds and storm ceased and, the waters becoming calmer, we finally reached our haven without even being subjected to the annoying presence of a Custom House official, as the high seas had prevented his visit. When I reached land I learned that the awful storm had extended along the whole eastern coast and had carried death and devastation in its track. The children and I were driven to my mother's late residence, 57 West Thirty-sixth Street, but she was no longer there to greet me, as she had passed into the Great Beyond the year before my return; but my sister Charlotte and my brother Malcolm were still living there, both of whom were unmarried. I had received such kindness from the captain of the Mirage during the homeward voyage that I felt I should like to make some fitting return, and accordingly his wife and daughter became my guests.