A school was established at Shanghai to receive candidates, and announcement made that the government had appropriated a large sum of money to educate one hundred and twenty boys in America, who were to be sent in four detachments, in four successive years, beginning with 1872; and that a candidate, on his election after a term of probation at the school, should have the cadet’s button and rank conferred on him; and that after fifteen years of residence in America, during which period the government promised to defray all expenses and exercise parental care over the youths, they were to return for entrance into its service.
Such an offer was un-heard-of. People doubtless were dazzled by its splendor, as many as came in view of it. But as no newspapers existed there, excepting at Pekin and some of the treaty ports the news did not spread far. Only faint and vague rumors reached the inland towns. Hence, comparatively few candidates presented themselves and these hailed, for the most part, from the maritime provinces. In fact, parents were not over-eager to send their sons away so far, for so long a time, and to a land unknown to them, the inhabitants of which they heard and believed were barbarians.
A cousin of mine, however, who was in business then at Shanghai, thought differently; and was not deterred by any such considerations. He came home with glowing accounts of the new movement; and so painted the golden prospects of the successful candidate that he persuaded my mother to let me go. I was then twelve years old; my father had died three years before and my mother had assumed the sole charge of her three sons. But she was not going to force me to go, whether willing or unwilling; and so left the matter to me to decide.
I was more or less adventurous in disposition. A chance to see the world was just what I wanted. I said yes without hesitation. My mother, if she had any misgivings, wisely kept them to herself; and, like a brave woman who has resolved to deny herself for the good of her child, she set to work to prepare me for the journey to Shanghai.
For a whole month, I reveled at the sight of new clothes that were made for me. Friends and relatives made presents of food for the voyage, sweetmeats predominating. At last, after bidding farewell to all my uncles, aunts and cousins, with others of my kith and kin, I paid my last respects to my mother in the conventional way. I did not embrace her and kiss her. O no! that would have been un-Chinese and undignified. What I actually did was to bow my head four times to the ground upon my knees. She tried to appear cheerful, but I could see that her eyes were moistened with tears. I did not think much of it then, but I remembered it in after-time. Ah! a mother’s love is strong wherever it is found. She gave me some pocket-money and bade me be a good boy and write often.
With those words ringing in my ears and the memory of that sad face fresh in my mind, I walked briskly by the side of my cousin down to the wharf at which the junk was moored, which vessel, of a style well-known by picture to American boys and girls, was to carry us to Hongkong, whence we expected to take steamer for Shanghai. We sailed down the narrow river with a stiff breeze in our favor, after offerings had been made to the river-god, and the gong had announced to the world that “we were off.”
The river was so serpentine with its numerous bends that the men often had to take a run on the banks to pull the boat along. The sun was just tinging the western cloud-castles with crimson and gold and as we went further and further from the town a panorama of great beauty passed before our eyes. Mountains and stream, and fields wavy with golden grain, and towering pagodas, all gemmed by the setting sun, composed this kaleidoscopic scene. But I had no heart to enjoy it. I was homesick for the first time in my life. A sense of solitude, of desolation—a feeling of loss possessed me—and I retired into the small cabin to weep unseen. Before long, a tossing of the boat announced the awful presence of the sea, and soon after I realized what seasickness meant.
We arrived at Hongkong the next morning. It was a wonderful place to me. I never wearied with gazing at the vessels, which were of all sorts and all nationalities. The foreigners too were strange sights. How I stared at them and wondered how they could move with their “strait-jackets and tight pantaloons!”
I had an adventure which I can never forget. My cousin left me behind with friends while he went to the theatre. I inwardly rebelled at this treatment, and, against the advice of the people at the store where we stayed, set out in that strange place to find the theatre, taking the money which my mother had given me to buy a ticket. I walked quite a distance, stopping frequently to gaze at the show windows and at the foreigners, till I came upon one at last. Although I had seen theatrical performances before, I had never been in a permanent theatre, so I was determined to enjoy my new experience. But alas! no enjoyment came to me. I felt uneasy the whole time and looked all over the auditory to see if my cousin was there. But he was nowhere to be seen. Scared and trembling for the consequences, I left the building before the grand climax when one hero was to distinguish himself by killing another and went my way back to the store. My cousin returned before long and, being informed of my escapade gave me a sound whipping. In two days we went on board a steamer and arrived at Shanghai after a four days’ journey from Hongkong, without any incident or accident.