p. 12 | Escape From the Boxers

Pacific Press Publishing Company · OAKLAND, CALIFORNIA · Sep 24, 1902

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 28, No. 39.

Escape From the Boxers

HOW A CHRISTIAN CHINESE FAMILY KEPT THE FAITH.

The Thrilling Story of Escape from the Boxers by a Participant in the Events.

[The following experience is that of the family of Deacon Wau, of the First Congregational Church in Peking, told in the words of his wife. They lived in a large court with several other families, some of whom were Boxers. Here is Mrs. Wau's story.]

WE were not afraid, tho we felt anxious on account of our four children. If we should be killed and they left, who would care for them? June 13 I was alone in the house with the children. All day the neighbors had been talking of the terrible things that were to happen to the Christians. I heard of the burning of the Methodist Episcopal Mission and the London Mission—heard the shouting on the street of "kill! kill! kill!" About eight o'clock I could see the flames of the American Board chapel and hear the noise made by the multitude gathered about the place. My husband did not come, and I thought he had been killed. I took the children all upstairs and then sat down and waited. They were crying for their father. While trying to comfort them, a friend came quietly upstairs and told me not to make any noise, but to come out on the street, where my husband was waiting for me. My little two-year-old girl was asleep, and I thought I would first go and see what was wanted and then come back for her.

We went out in the street, and there in a dark corner was my husband. His first words were: "Where is our precious baby, can it be you have left her?" I said no, I wanted to see him first, and then if we were going to try to escape I would go back for her. The young man who had called me out said: "You must not one of you go back into that court; I will get the baby. You stay here in this corner, but don't speak; if the people in the court know you are trying to get away, they will call out." So he went in, got the baby, and left the lamp burning so they would think we were still there.

We made our way along in the dark to a near court where a Christian family were living. From this court Mr. Wau climbed to the top of a temple belonging to a rich man living in a court at the front.

I stood below, and he whispered down to me what he saw and heard. We heard the church-bell at American Board chapel fall and a general shouting of voices. Afterward a man went by, calling out, "If there are any followers of the foreign devils about they had better escape at once, as a house-to-house search is to be made by the Boxers before midnight. Every follower will be killed." From the temple roof my husband saw them go to our house three times.

At last he said, it is no use to think we can escape them, but we will try. Don't let the children make a bit of noise. I will carry them one by one to the roof here, then we can talk and plan. He took the children up and one by one carried them along the wall, then got onto the roof. I told my little girl not to cry, that papa would be very careful. She said, "Yes," and was perfectly still. I do not know how I managed to climb to the top of that eight-foot wall, to walk along the narrow top and then crawl up the roof of the temple. All the time it seemed as if I was helped from behind. A big tree overshadowed the roof and we hid under the branches, watching the burning of the chapel and homes of the friends we loved. All over the city were fires, and the screaming of the mob was terrible. It was a horrible night. At last we climbed into the tree and reached the ground—bruised and torn. We hid in a little empty room back of the temple.

The Chinese Christian Family Whose Experience Is Related in the Accompanying Article.

At last, about light, one of the servants saw us and told his master. We all six of us got down on our knees and entreated them to hide us for a few days; but they said no, there was to be a house-to-house search in the city, and if they sheltered Christians then they would suffer. I borrowed a needle and thread, and sewed up the rents in our garments; they gave the children some bread, and we went out. My husband walked ahead carrying the baby, and I followed after with the other three children. Soon we met a band of soldiers; some did not notice us; others said: "Here are some. Let's kill them." Others said, "Let them go; can you not see it is one family? Let them off this time." Even with the knives drawn I did not tremble.

They went on and we made our way first to the home of my sister-in-law. They were very kind to us, and said we will all die together. We had been there but a short time when their landlord came and said we must go. Our relatives entreated for us and with us, but no, "go" was the word. They hired a cart for us, and we left the city by the east side gate. We went to a cemetery and hid there till dark. We heard people on the road saying that all the foreigners had been killed, and when we reached the quiet spot of the dead it seemed as if our hearts would break. With one voice we lifted up our hearts and cried till it seemed as tho our eyes were gone.

After dark we made our way to some relatives living a mile from the cemetery. At first they welcomed us, but some one came and told them the Boxers were coming for us. Then they said we must go. My husband told them to hide us in their brush pile and if the Boxers came they would set fire to it. I told them we were not afraid of death; what we feared was that we could not all die together. At last they let us go into an empty room at the back of the yard. The children went to sleep at once. So did their father, but my heart was so sad I could not sleep. About midnight the man of the family came and said that we must get up and go on. They did not dare have us stay any longer. We went out into the cold and darkness. My oldest daughter lost her shoes, and went in her stocking feet. We all had blisters on our feet, as we were not used to walking. We went through a village, and, tho we did not talk and walked very quietly, the dogs commenced to bark. Some one called out "Who goes there?" We said, "Travelers." "I know who you are, you are followers of devils and are out scattering medicine," said the man who had hailed us. He then called to his neighbors, and we

turned off into the fields and hurried along. We went to a village where we had some distant relatives, but found no open door. We walked for some distance until we came to a large family cemetery. The keeper was a kind man and lived there all alone. He told us to come in, and said he would do his best, but the owner of the place was a Boxer, and it was not safe for Christians to stay. He got us some supper. It was very poor and dry. Our lips were all cracked from fever and thirst, and I asked him to give us some porridge.

We had a quiet night, but in the morning the keeper said it would not do for us to stay. Then my husband became discouraged. He said, "The best and only thing for us to do is to go and give ourselves to the Boxers. We will only ask them to please kill the children first, and then you and I will die together. The suffering will not last over two hours, and then all sorrow will be over." I agreed to this. He then called the three oldest children, Wau Ping, Paul, and Peter, and said to them:—

"My children, your father would suffer for you if he could, but he can not. The Boxers will ask you if you are Christians; if you say no, they will let you off; if you say yes, then they will kill you; but that only means suffering for a little." The children one after another said, "I will say I am a Christian, I love Jesus, I am not afraid to die."

It did not seem as tho we could walk any more. At last the keeper said he would see if he could get the cart of a friend. He went out, and we all had prayer together. After a time the cart came, and we started for Peking. We did not meet any Boxers, but saw them in the distance. We went to one of the church member's homes, only to find it

in ruins, then to a place we owned but had rented. Our tenants not only would not take us in, but refused to pay us money they owed us. We drove from street to street: At last I saw my husband was nearly desperate, and I whispered to him, "God has let us come all this road and we have not met Boxers; we must not seek death; perhaps He means us to live."

The carter then got to talking with some people and learned that the Methodist Episcopal Mission had not been attacked, so with great joy we made our way across the city and were received with open arms. The children jumped up and down in the cart and said, "It is almost as nice as getting to heaven." It did seem so to us after the anxious hours. During the siege our dear little girl died. — The Congregationalist.