by Max Howell
After numerous telephone calls, it was decided that she would go to another Mission, one run by the American Presbyterian Henry Luce, at Tengehow, Shantung. Like the Reverend Alcaster’s Mission, it was connected to the Society for Propagating the Gospel. A good friend of the Alcasters, Luce had a young son who needed looking after, a three-year-old boy also called Henry. Everyone agreed that they would say Lin’s husband had been killed by the Boxers. In return she would look after their child and teach English and piano at the Mission. The Luce family came to Peking to meet her, and they were immediately taken in by Lin. She packed up the few things that remained after the fire, and travelled back with them to the Mission at the small town of Tengehow. The only two treasures she had were the ring and a photograph that George Morrison had taken of her and Robert.
The irony of it all was that Robert had been killed in January, 1901. On the 22nd of December the Allies had presented the Chinese with peace proposals. On February 1 1901 the Boxer Society was abolished by the Empress Dowager and her advisors, and as a result of the war had to pay an enormous indemnity. In March, 1901, Captain Hixson and his squadron returned to Australia. Six Australians had died in China, and Lieutenant Robert Pride of Sydney was Australia’s final casualty. Captain Hixson had, as he promised, represented Robert’s case, and the judgment was that they could indeed marry. It was, unfortunately, too late for them and still the question remained, would Lin have been allowed to enter Australia even if they had married?
The relative isolation of the Tengehow Mission was perfect for Lin in her present situation, as no-one knew her there and everyone accepted readily that her husband had been killed in the Boxer Uprising.
Her time at the Mission was a happy one, mainly because of the kindness of the American missionaries Henry and Elizabeth Luce. They were completely devoted to their work, and their commitment and beliefs made Lin more of a Christian, indeed a Protestant, than she had been beforehand, and she adored their three-year-old son Henry, who she looked after most of the day. However there was always time to teach English to the Chinese who came to the Mission, as well as to translate for them. There was no evident middle class among these Chinese parishioners, as there was in Peking. They were in the main poor peasants who were on the verge of starvation. Secretly she wondered whether Christianity was in reality a poor third to the food and clothing supplied by the Mission, but she never discussed this with the Luces. They were convinced that the people who came to them were true converts.
Throwing aside her doubts, she performed every task asked of her, and in no time was accepted as one of the family, so much so that she was provided with a room in the house where the Luce’s lived, and had all her meals with them. For Henry’s wife Elizabeth, Lin was particularly welcome, and she was accepted as if she were her daughter. Lin acted as a companion, as she spoke perfect English and could converse on a broad range of subjects. Elizabeth however was extremely busy in Mission matters, and put her complete faith in Lin in her handling of her son Henry, or Henry II as she called him. Wherever Lin went, young Henry went with her. She would play with the child incessantly, hug him, kiss him and continually tell him stories, and wherever she went the little one would place his hand in hers and they would walk throughout the Mission together.
Another thing that tied her in to the family was her ability at the piano. Elizabeth also enjoyed the piano, though her ability was nowhere near Lin’s. Lin became the pianist at the Church services and at any other functions when music was needed, and in the evenings, thanks to an excellent supply of musical scores sent from America to the Mission, she would play for the family. As for young Henry, he would sit quietly, completely entranced while Lin played, and was overjoyed when she would lift him up to the piano and have him play with the keys. He would giggle with delight, and then she would take his hands and play a simple tune with him.
Lin found that on top of her duties with Henry II and the Mission that she increasingly became a confidante of the people in the area. She tried therefore to educate and advise the peasants in matters such as hygiene and well-being.
These more lofty aims were rather minor at first because of her own pregnancy, but when her time came she gave birth to a lovely boy called Robert, who in every respect looked Chinese. Her child was worshipped by Henry II, who would play with him hour by hour. He delighted in putting a finger in the hand of the young one and having it held. The Luces accepted the child as their own.
After Robert was born, Lin set up a little school in the Mission to teach more than the tenets of Christianity. She actually found her own self-expression in her school, teaching the rudiments of reading, writing, mathematics and for that matter music. Her baby would be in a rocking cradle that was made for her, and she would rock the child as she taught. She became an indispensable part of the small town, and it was she, rather than the Luces, who was sought out for advice. The peasants recognised that she was a woman of quality who was devoted to the people of the village as much as she was to her own child. Though she was a vital part of the Christianising role of the Mission as a whole, she never rejected those who thought differently.
As the years rolled by the school that she had begun expanded, and young people from the area who had been students in the school become her teaching aides, so that the number of students could be increased. Her relations with the leading citizens were extremely close. She represented a role model for the young, and offered hope for all. She was idolised and worshipped.
Ten years had gone by, Henry II and Robert being 13 and 9 years of age, respectively. Young Henry had been given special tutorship by Lin, and he also acted as an aide in the school, despite his youth. He obviously loved Lin, and worked hard to please her as she tutored him in science, geography, literature and mathematics. He showed a gift for playing the piano, and every night she would instruct him and they both would play.
It was in June 1911 that her world seemingly came to an end. After dinner one night, Henry Sr. announced to Lin that he had been informed that the parent body of the Society for Propagating the Gospel in Amherst, Massachusetts, was closing the Mission on August 1.
Lin was shocked, and visibly so, when she received the news, thoughts flashing through her mind: what does this mean, will I be able to leave China with the Luces, what will I do when they leave, how will Robert and I live?
The Reverend Luce went on: “Lin, I have known of this possibility for the last two months, and I have argued against the decision to no avail. I know, Lin, how worried you must be now about your own future. We look upon you and Robert as family, and I requested of our Church that you both come back to the United States with us. It has been investigated with the immigration people and I am sorry to say our request was not successful!”
The Reverend looked at her concerned face. “Lin”, he said, “we love you and your son and, frankly, we wonder what our own son will do without you.” She looked over, and noticed tears were flooding the eyes of their son.
He went on. “It is not all bad news, Lin. I have not mentioned the possibility of closure of the Mission to you before this moment, because I have been negotiating on two fronts. The first is that the Church has appreciated your commitment and sacrifice, and has agreed to provide you with an annual remittance of eight hundred US dollars. It is not much but it is more than enough for your son and yourself to live quite well in China.”
“Thank you, Reverend Luce, and you too, Elizabeth. I know that this would not have happened without you! It certainly gives me an unexpected measure of security.”
The Reverend Luce went on. “I said, Lin, that I had been negotiating on two fronts. The other thing is that I have been holding discussions with the officials and top figures in the town. Everyone has agreed that the Mission will be taken over by the town, and it will become the town’s first School, with you as the principal teacher. They will pay you a normal teacher’s wage, they are currently investigating that, and will create a budget for upkeep of the school,
such as slate boards and slate pencils, etc. You will occupy this present home at no rent, and when repairs are needed you are to make your requests to them and they will endeavour to meet them. They are going to set up a School Council that you make your requests and report to. So what do you think about all this, Lin?”
“Reverend, I am overjoyed, absolutely overjoyed. This is beyond my expectations. My future, and that of Robert, is now assured. There is only one sad note, and that is leaving your own family. I have felt like your own daughter, and as if young Henry were my own son. Nothing will ever replace the warmth I have felt in your home.”
“We feel the same, Lin, absolutely the same.”
Just then young Henry rushed forward, and threw his arms about her. Tears still fell down his face. “Lin”, he said, “I do not know what I will do without you. I love you, Lin.”
“And I love you, Henry, but you will soon forget your Chinese teacher.”
“Never, Lin, never.”
Then Lin went over and kissed the Luces, her own Robert clinging to her. It was a sad moment for all of them.
It was August before they knew it. Suddenly there were the Luces, their possessions in horse-drawn wagons, just moments before departure. Hundreds of villagers came to bid them farewell, many of them weeping inconsolably. They had made a remarkable contribution to the town, but were primarily loved because of their sincerity and honesty, and their down-to-earth attitudes. Many came up to shake their hands, their heads bowed. Lin stood there, tears flooding her cheeks, Robert holding on to his mother. He also cried. It was all so very sad.
Just before they all bade their final farewells, Lin pulled Elizabeth Luce aside. “Elizabeth”, she said, “I have only one thing of intrinsic worth, the ring given me by my Lieutenant over ten years ago. I want you to have it.”
“Lin, I have always admired your ring, but I could not take it, though I appreciate the sentiment. You keep it in memory of your loved one.”
“Mrs Luce”, she went on, “you and your husband saved my life, and now you have marked out my future. My life would have been so very different if it were not for you two, and young Henry. My ring is a love ring, as you know, and it always will be that. I loved once, the man of my dreams, and I will never love again. I believe he and I will meet once more in heaven, and I still have the photograph I treasure of us both.”
She drew a breath and went on. “I would like you to give the ring to Henry, at the moment he knows he has the woman of his dreams. Thus it will remain a love ring!”
Lin kissed the ring, and handed it to Mrs Luce. She took it, and embraced Lin. “My thanks, Lin, we will miss you.”
“And we will miss you”, Lin replied.
The wagons pulled away from the Mission, everyone waving and crying. No-one left the Mission until the wagons could no longer be seen.
Lin’s ring, her love ring, went with the Luce’s by wagon to Peking, by passenger boat on the way to San Francisco, by rail to New York and thence to Amherst, Massachusetts. It had a new home with Mrs Luce at Amherst, which was vastly different from Peking and Tengehow.
CHAPTER 2.
FROM PEKING TO THE USA
The Luces loved returning to the United States, and more particularly Amherst, which was a city among the first areas settled by the Pilgrim Fathers. Massachusetts was a region which was pivotal in making America what it is today, an area where politics was vital, where religions could operate freely and with disparate views, and educational institutions set standards of scholarship unique in America at the time. Yale, Harvard and Princeton, all distinguished private universities were all reasonably close at hand, while The University of Massachusetts at Amherst had developed as a state institution with fees affordable for anyone in the state.
Apart from the atmosphere of learning that permeated the area, the Luces revelled in the definition of the seasons, which were more well defined than in China. They had forgotten the wonderful autumns, when the changing colour of the leaves added so much beauty to the countryside. Spring also was so very different to what they had experienced in China, Amherst becoming alive again at that time. They were very happy to be home again, though they had enjoyed doing God’s work in China.
The family lived in a small, rambling home provided rent-free by the Church, and the Reverend Luce worked in the administrative centre of the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. The pay was minimal but it was sufficient for a comfortable living. Their own personal extravagances, after China, were few, and it did not bother them in the least that they generally wore second-hand clothes and seemingly everything they had was borrowed. They were delighted however that there was at least a piano in their house, as their son could carry on his musical studies.
The parents missed Lin, but on the other hand Mrs Luce now had more time for her son, and encouraged him in not only his music but his studies at the local high school. At first Henry found that he was behind in certain subjects, but in others, like mathematics and literature, and certainly music, he was far ahead.
He loved his parents deeply, and respected their goals in life. Their whole life was centred around helping others and passing the words of the Church on to others. However Henry did not embrace the same aims. There was no resentment or animosity related to his own emerging beliefs, but a life of near-poverty and second-hand clothes was not how he saw his own future. He was not absolutely certain what he wanted to do, after all he was only 14 years of age, but he wanted a measure of independence, and he concluded that could only be attained when there was sufficient money at hand. So he resolved that he must somehow commit himself to a career in some aspect of business.
He applied himself unsparingly at school, and within a year was head of his class and was winning prizes for achievement in various subjects. He had unusual inner desire and motivation.
In his graduation year he topped the school and won a scholarship to Harvard University. It was where he had dreamed he wanted to go, but he knew that without that scholarship his parents could never have afforded to send him there. Though his views were the antithesis of his parents, they never endeavoured to influence him as to his life goals.
His mind continually swept back to China, and his tutor Lin. She was the most beautiful and warm woman he had ever met, and though he knew it to be ‘puppy-love’, it was nevertheless love that he felt for her. He often wondered what had happened to her, as her letters to his parents were few and far between. From what he could piece together, she was happy and content with the work she was doing at the School.
When he was young at Tengehow his own parents had read him the traditional childhood stories such as ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, ‘Jack and the Beanstalk’, ‘Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs’, as well as various religious stories pertaining to the birth of Jesus, the meaning of Christmas and so on.
Lin, on the other hand, had told him many Chinese stories, and it were these that intrigued him and he remembered more clearly. They each had a message. One he often thought about was Lin’s story of the greedy boy. This boy was fishing near Shantung, on the shore of a tiny lake, and one day he caught a beautiful gold-fish. He wanted to take it home to his poor family. He took the hook from the fish’s mouth, and was surprised to see tears dropping from its eyes.
Then the gold-fish spoke to him: “Please, young sir, please let me go back to my home and family. They will miss me if I do not return. If you let me go, young sir, I will grant you four wishes.”
“Four wishes?” the boy asked. “How do I know you will fulfil my wishes?”
The gold-fish replied: “You will have to trust me!”
With a degree of reluctance, he returned the gold-fish to the lake. He immediately made his first wish, which was that there would be plenty of food for his poor family.
When he returned home it was to see his parents overjoyed, as food aplenty had magically appeared on their table.
The very next day he went back to the lake, and made his second wish, which was th
at he and his family would be clothed in the grandest manner. Immediately he found himself wearing expensive clothes, and when he returned to his home he found his father, mother, brothers and sisters all clad in the finest raiments.
It did not take him long to figure out what his third wish would be. He went to the lake and asked for one hundred pieces of gold. Sure enough, one hundred pieces of gold appeared on their kitchen table.
He could hardly wait to get back to the lake, where he asked for another two hundred pieces of gold, and this wish too was immediately granted.
But he was not happy, and thought that because he had saved the gold-fish’s life that he should be granted more wishes. So he asked for all the gold in China.
He rushed home, to find the food all gone, the clothes had disappeared, and the gold had turned to stone. The moral of the story was that one should appreciate what one has and gets, and one should never be greedy.
He often thought about this story Lin would tell him, and as the years went on he became concerned about his own goals, which basically equated success with monetary gain.
He was completely obsessed with his studies at Harvard, and yet he managed to join the Musical Society. This was the sole social interest that he allowed himself during his College days. He would play the piano at various concerts, and it was adjudged by the experts that he would be highly successful if he so desired, as a classical pianist.
However he did not even consider music as a career, it was simply something that he enjoyed doing, and it provided him with relaxation, which was a relief from his obsessive desire to be successful in his studies. He at the same time volunteered his services for the Musical Society’s public productions such as ‘Gilbert and Sullivan’. He really enjoyed such works. They were lively and even frivolous, and the dialogue of the songs was both witty and engaging. It was at one of the ‘Gilbert and Sullivan’ offerings that he met one of the cast at the celebrations after a final performance. With his studies and the Musical Society he simply had no time for women in his life, but this one girl had caught his eye and she had returned glances with him. She was the typical College woman, with short hair, a bright face and a slim body. He was immediately attracted to her, and at the cast party he went up to her and said: “Hi! I don’t believe we have met. My name is Henry Luce.”