21
Alone at Kuling
(1912)

Bob's wish to see the Chengtu YMCA well launched had been heeded, and he was content to be going back to the work. It would have been difficult for some new secretary to go there; and it would also have been hard for the Chinese in the Chengtu Y to get used to a new associate before their work was firmly established. But some of our friends told us we were crazy to start west: we should be on our way to America.^[1] We left Nanking at the end of May and proceeded to Shanghai by train, quite a novelty to us after six years without the sight of one. We did some preparation for the West, and gave up all thoughts of America for a few more years.

For the first stage of our journey up river, we traveled by the Tuckwo of Jardine's, and the trip was not without its thrill. At Nanking we picked up our cook and our heavy luggage. Between Wuhu and Anking, the ship caught fire about 8 o'clock one evening. The panic of those first few moments was terrifying. Thick black smoke poured from one of the hatches, and the situation looked serious for a short time. Eventually, the fire was put out with no great danger to vessel or passengers.

That year huge hats were the style. I had one, but it was packed. We were escorting a new Y couple because they spoke no Chinese. She had a tremendous black hat and a baby. When the cry of fire sounded through the ship, she rushed to her cabin and first of all put on her enormous hat. When she

[1] Bob and Grace never argued in front of their children, but we knew, much later, that there had been disagreement over this return to Szechwan. Grace may have forgiven, but in this case she never forgot. The usual practice, in the YMCA and most missions, was six years in the field and one year at home. Bob's volunteering—indeed, seeking—to go back to Szechwan in 1912 postponed their furlough. As things worked out, it would be a postponement for more than three years. Grace's account makes it clear that the decision was reached when Bob went to Shanghai, without her being present or consulted. She felt that Bob put loyalty to the Y ahead of his consideration for the family.

stooped to put things in suitcase or valise, she would hit the hat brim on the edge of the berth, or a chair, or anything nearby. She then ran to do something else, always meeting the same difficulty. Fortunately the scare was soon over; otherwise I cannot imagine how she would ever have gotten her things together for a real emergency!

To get to Kuling in those days, one left the steamer at Kiukiang and then had a day's travel by sedan chair to climb the mountain. We were used to overland travel in Szechwan, where we always had to take beds and bedding with us. But we had been told of the rest house on the way to Kuling and that it provided beds. It was hot, so we supposed sheets and bed nets would be all the bedding we needed. We reached Kiukiang in midafternoon and started off at once for the foot of the mountain. Arriving at the rest house, we found iron beds, but nothing at all provided for mattresses. Our makeshifts were fairly poor, and we rose the next morning pockmarked from head to foot by marks of the bedsprings. Later we heard we should have spent the night at the small hotel in Kiukiang. We had forgotten that there were hotels for such as we!

The third of June we were in Kuling, settling into a friend's cottage which we had rented for the season. Bob was thirty-three on the fourth of June, and we celebrated with strawberries and cream and a cake. On the thirteenth we told Bob good-bye, and he started on the long trek back to Chengtu. I felt lonely on the side of the Kuling hill with two babies.^[2] I had two single ladies with me for some time during the summer, but was mostly alone.

In Nanking that spring we had been hearing of the Braces of the Canadian Mission, who had just arrived in China and were to be loaned to the YMCA in Szechwan. Bob had met Mr. Brace in Shanghai at the Y conference in May. We rejoiced that they were to join us. They also spent that summer at Kuling, so I quickly became acquainted with Bert and Blanche. They had two sons, and a third was born there that summer.

Our good cook, Liu Pei-yun, returned to Szechwan with Bob, and I had a Shanghai man, recommended by friends there. He proved to be a sophisticated fellow who wanted to run my bills up as high as possible. The coolie stole kerosene and had a cache of it in an old tin under his bed, the cook conniving with him against me. My only comfort was the fine amah, who had

[2] Kuling was the largest missionary summer resort in inland China. It had been started in the 1890s, was about 3,500 feet in elevation, and (only a few years after Grace's sojourn) had 350 houses, with a church and other community buildings. It was a foreign preserve until the Generalissimo and Madame Chiang Kai-shek started using it in the 1930s. It was conveniently close, perhaps, to Chiang's military headquarters at Nanchang, Kiangsi, for the almost yearly "mopping up" campaigns against Mao Tse-tung's small soviet republic in south Kiangsi. The next person to make it famous was Mao Tse-tung himself. At a historic meeting of the Communist leaders here in 1959, Mao bitterly rejected criticism of his (eventually disastrous) Great Leap econolnic policies and broke with one of China's great military leaders, Peng Dehuai. There are no foreigners in Kuhng today; most of their homes, I expect, are sanatoria.

come from Nanking with me. The servants' quarters were terribly cramped and entirely miserable, so I was glad to have Amah sleep in the children's room, adjoining mine. Them was a Japanese bath in the cottage, and when I became used to the idea of a fire under me while I bathed, I enjoyed it. At first I could hardly bear to get into such a contraption.

There were a number of Szechwan refugees on the hill that year, but most of them lived at considerable distance from our cottage. Chair carriers could be hired, but were expensive and impudent. In order to prevent excessive charges, there was a chit system by which they got their payment at the Estate Office. I imagine my cook demanded a large squeeze from men who carried me, because I always had trouble. One day when I had signed the chit for the proper amount, including the customary cumshaw, the men flew into a towering rage.^[3] I had sent the chit out to them by the cook. They ran around the cottage and up onto the veranda outside my bedroom windows. There they screamed at me and were very insolent, demanding no chit but money in their hands. They told me that no woman could talk to them: they would have money, and if it was not forthcoming, they would come right into the room and take the string of beads off my neck.

While this tirade was going on, I told Amah to run out the door from the children's room on the other side of the house and go for my opposite neighbor, Mr. Adams. He happened to be at home and promptly arrived with plenty of vigorous Chinese language to clear the men off my veranda and grounds. After this I had less trouble, but the cook was a great trial. He considered me a newcomer and constantly told me I did not understand "the custom for cooks." I understood it, and had no idea of letting things go his way, my resources being insufficient for spending money in the way he thought necessary.

It was a very wet summer, and we could see the Yangtze, down below us, overflowing its banks and bringing ruin to many a farmstead. Mold constantly formed on floors and clothing. After wearing a white piqué jacket for just an hour, I hung it in the closet only to find it ruined by red mold the next time I needed it. At times when it rained, I had to keep oil heaters and lamps burning all day to counteract the dampness.

Jack became ill with a bowel trouble in August and had a most critical time. Of course I had a doctor, but Jack grew steadily worse. Late in August Dr. Logan of Changteh, Hunan, was called in consultation, and from then on the child began to improve, though slowly. For days he had asked for food; then he became too weak to speak much and was sadly changed from the fat, sturdy lad of three who had tramped around the hill with his father in June.

[3] "Cumshaw" is a gift, gratuity, or tip. It is derived from the Cantonese pronunciation of gan xie (sincere thanks) and is a common word in the lingua franca of the Orient.

The baby, small Bob, was also slightly ill at the same time; and the amah was laid up for several days. I kept up and my friends were loyal in their devotion to us. Mary Smith, a Canadian nurse of the Szechwan Mission, gave up her language studies for over a week to help me through the worst period.

When I had to hire an extra amah for washing, she would not stay. I found the cook was at the bottom of the difficulty, having demanded a fat squeeze from her wages.^[4] I had hoped to keep the cook on, not because I liked him, but because it would be so hard to get another. This affair, however, was too much. I came to an issue with the dictator, telling him he had caused me no end of bother and ought to be ashamed of himself when we had severe illness in the house. I paid him liberally and had witnesses to see that he received a good cumshaw and everything that was his due, anal told him that he was to get off the hill and never come near us again. He left just as Jack began to show a little improvement.

I knew the child had been dangerously ill, but I did not know until later that my friends expected him to die. The only time I gave way at all was one evening when he was a trifle stronger and he suddenly put up his hands and said his little prayer, "Now I lay me down to sleep...." I began to tremble and told Miss Smith I felt sure he would die. She assured me he was improving.^[5] Dr. Logan would take no fee for his attention, but we sent a gift to his hospital. I never saw the doctor again after that summer, but thought of him always as a friend. I was saddened, years later, by his tragic death from the shot of one of his patients, a crazed soldier.

It was well into September before Jack could have any solid food. We all rejoiced when he ate his first bit of toast: he liked it so much. I had had a hard time alone and never knew how I could miss Bob until those days. And I began to dread the long houseboat trip up the river again, with thoughts of illness for the children to haunt me. By this time, all our nearer neighbors had gone down the hill, so that our cottage was rather isolated. Therefore, in September, the children and I moved to two rooms in the cottage of friends at the other end of the valley. The new living arrangement did not work out. When the Brockmans of the Y in Shanghai found how things were, they insisted that I return there and stay with them until the Yangtze would be star-able for houseboat travel and we could start up the river.^[6]

[4] "Squeeze" may be universal, but the use of the word in this sense originated in Asia. Webster (Unabridged) defines it as a commission charged by an oriental servant. Within limits, it was acceptable, and practised by all servants with some clout in the household (either the cook or the Boy). For instance, if a curio dealer brought his wares to one's house, it would be assumed that he gave the Boy a small percentage on any sales made. In this case, Grace's cook was clearly out of line in trying to force the amah to give him a part of her wages.

[5] My first memory is of my bedroom at Kuling.

[6] The reason that Bob returned alone to Szechwan in June was that the consuls were still refusing to permit the return of families. Grace does not mention the date, but apparently in

September this ban was removed. Grace did not start up river at once, because of my recent illness and because junk travel from Ichang to Chungking was easier and safer when the river was lower.

The trip down the mountain was much easier than going up, for we stayed at the small foreign hotel at Kiukiang. It happened to be the Eighth Moon Feast, and the evening we spent in Kiukiang was lovely, with myriads of tiny lights set afloat on the water of the river. We went out in a rowboat and it was like a fairyland. Jack was still too weak to do much. He had even usurped the place of the baby in the folding go-cart. And on the steamer he was unable to raise his feet over the thresholds of the cabin and saloon. In fact, he had to be taught to walk again after this illness, and Amah and I had two real babies to tend. Before his sickness Jack had been able to look out for himself quite a bit. My good amah had family problems and had to leave us at Nanking as our steamer passed there. In Shanghai, Mary Brockman's amah helped me with the children and we got on easily. She was a large, pleasant woman with a calmness and self-reliance that made one have confidence in her. How good she was to me!

I spent a busy month in Shanghai and visited with Y friends and all the Szechwan refugees. Mary and Fletcher left me with their two younger sons while they took a trip to visit some friends. I had a severe attack of tonsilitis, but was able to get off for the West at the end of October. Mary insisted that her amah go with us to Ichang. This was a most fortunate thing for me; if it had not been for her, I do not know how I could have gotten along. A crowd of friends came to the steamer to see me off, and I certainly was happy to be going back to Szechwan. Arrangements had been made that we were to meet the Hampsons in Ichang, and our two families would share a houseboat to Chungking. And Bob promised to meet us in that city.