TUEN, SLAVE and EMPRESS

BY

KATHLEEN GRAY NELSON

Illustrations by William M. Cary

NEW YORK COPYRIGHT BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 31 West Twenty-third Street 1898

[Pg iii]

PREFACE.

This story is founded upon facts in the life of the Empress-dowager of China, the mother of the present Emperor.

She was sold as a slave by her father to a renowned government official, who after a few years adopted her as his daughter, and afterwards presented her to the Emperor.

The Emperor was altogether charmed with the gift. In a few years the slave girl became the wife of the Emperor, second in rank only to the Empress. From this time she was a power at the Imperial Court. Her administrative ability in governmental affairs became invaluable to the Emperor.

[Pg iv]

After the death of the Empress, and the death of the Emperor and eldest son, she became Empress-dowager of China, and reigned as regent during the minority of her son, who is the present Emperor of China, now about twenty-four years of age.

Bishop Galloway tells us this wonderful woman's sixtieth birthday, celebrated last year, "was to have been the greatest event in Chinese history for a century or more." The war, however, prevented this display. He says, too: "It is significant that in this country, in which women are at a discount, are secluded and kept in ignorance, are protested against at birth, and regarded as a calamity in youth, the ruling spirit in all national affairs is a woman."

ILLUSTRATIONS.

[Pg 1]

Tuen, Slave and Empress.

CHAPTER I.

The sun had set in the land where the dragon reigns, and darkness and silence and rest and sleep, the ministers of the night, waited to come to their own. But their presence was not needed in the eastern portion of the province of Hunan, for a wonderful stillness hung over all the barren landscape, and there was no sign of life. On the banks of the streams the patient buffalo no longer went his ceaseless rounds, working the pumps that sent water over the thirsty earth; the shrill cries of the boatmen that were wont to echo on the river were hushed; not even[Pg 2] a bird crossed the quiet sky; and where the waving rice-fields had once stretched out proud and green under the summer sun, was now but a lonely waste that gave no hope of harvest, for man and beast had either perished or fled. The great Tai-ping rebellion had stirred this peaceful country to its very centre, and war and war's grim follower, famine, had swept through this once fertile province, and naught was left to tell of what had been, save a few scattered ruins.

Suddenly, against the purplish shadows of the distant mountains, a little group could be seen moving slowly along, the only living things in all this vast solitude. On they came over the parched levels, but the man who was leading the way walked with bowed head, as one that saw not, but only went forward because he must. He was small in stature, and thin and lithe, while his complexion showed through its dark, the pallor of the student.[Pg 3] His face was of the Oriental type peculiar to the Chinese Empire, and his carefully braided cue also indicated his nationality. He had dark, sloping eyes that you might have thought sleepy if you had not seen them light up as he talked, his forehead was low and broad, his mouth large, and most amiable in its expression, and when the long sleeves of his tunic fell back, they disclosed soft, delicate hands, unused to toil. His costume consisted of an outer tunic of worn and faded silk, girded at the waist with a sash, from which hung a bag containing flint and steel for lighting his pipe, a soiled pouch that

had once held tobacco, but was now empty, another bag for his pipe, and a satin case shaped like the sheath for a short sword, from which protruded nothing more formidable, however, than the handle of a fan. His loose pantaloons, dust-stained and frayed, were met below the knees by cloth stockings, once white, but now dyed[Pg 4] with mud, and his shoes of embroidered felt, the toes of which curled up in a curious fashion, showed many gaping holes. Upon his head he wore a cone-shaped hat of bamboo, the peak at the top adorned with a blue button from which fell a blue silk fringe, and his tunic being cut low at the neck and buttoned diagonally across his breast, left exposed his slender bronzed neck.

He was followed by a woman whose dress was similar to his own, and also much the worse for wear, who led by the hand a little boy about four years old, while on her other side was a daughter, now almost as tall as her mother.

But as the father walked slowly, even majestically, at the head of his little family, bearing on a pole thrown across his shoulders, all his worldly goods, there was an independence in his carriage, a pride in his mien, that told of better days not yet forgotten, and made the evident[Pg 5] poverty of his appearance seem of but little moment.

A learned man once advanced the theory that in the olden days the children of Abraham and Keturah, driven forth by unkind kinsmen, wandered on until they reached the flowery Kingdom, and there the family of the old patriarch multiplied as the stars of heaven, as the sand upon the sea-shore, and became a mighty nation. But the centuries came and went in silence, and man kept no record of their flight; and of the early settlers of this, one of the first countries inhabited by human beings, history can tell us nothing. The sons of Han have lived their lives calmly, borrowing nothing from other nations, asking nothing of the outside world, caring naught for what lay beyond their vast borders, and change has been an unknown word in their shut-in kingdom. Progress, the daring child of modern times, has not found entrance[Pg 6] there, and the Niu Tsang of to-day, leading his family through the forsaken country, was but a repetition of his long dead forefathers. That was the reason why, even now, as he toiled wearily along, his mind left the scenes of

the present, so full of sorrow and suffering, and dwelt in placid contemplation on the events of the past. He was musing on the wisdom of the sages, on the maxims of Confucius, when, chancing to raise his head, he saw in the distance the dim outlines of a building.

"It is the temple of Buddha," he cried, joyfully, turning to his wife. "There we shall find food and shelter for the night."

She made a gesture of assent, but her pale lips framed no word, and they pressed hurriedly forward. When they came nearer the temple, he noticed the traces of many footsteps, as if a great throng had entered there, but the same mysterious silence reigned everywhere. There[Pg 7] was no murmur of voices raised in chants of praise, no priests waiting at the entrance, no din of gongs and drums, not even a sound from the consecrated animals that had once waited within the enclosure in pampered stupidity for release from their beastly forms. Bewildered, oppressed by a nameless fear, Niu Tsang ran past the open portal, and there he stopped, dismayed at the scene before him, for the rebels, drunk with success, had in their wild zeal turned against the dumb gods of the land, and wrought havoc in the temple. Gilded and painted fragments of helpless idols strewed the floor, the great stone altar, carved in writhing dragons, had been broken into many pieces, and incense vases of priceless porcelain, candlesticks of richest cloisonné,

tables of carved ebony, stands of polished jade, and rosaries torn from the hands of frightened priests, had been ruthlessly destroyed, and now lay in great[Pg 8] heaps of rubbish. The guardians of the temple had fled before the wrath of the rebel reformers, and the dead gods were left alone in their temple. Niu Tsang made his way sadly through these ruins of the once beautiful structure, and came at last into the dismantled court where his wife and children were already awaiting him. She had taken the boy in her lap and was tenderly stroking his little wan face, while the girl, her eyes filled with unshed tears, squatted beside her. A head of Buddha that had been broken off and rudely tossed into the court, lay near by, watching them with the same queer smile it had once bestowed upon its worshippers. The father made a gesture of despair.

"All is ruin—all is lost—and desolation is spread over the land," he said despairingly. "Nothing is left here."

The boy in his mother's lap moved restlessly about and uttered a low moan.

[Pg 9]

"Is there no rice, father?" he cried plaintively.

"None, my son," Niu answered with a sigh. "I have searched the temple, only to find it bare. You must wait."

His wife's mouth trembled pitifully as she listened, and noticing this he said to her:

"We must endure as best we can. Night now overshadows us, and there is no human habitation in sight. We must rest here until the dawn and then hurry on, hoping ere the day is done to find food for all. If our strength fail we can but die," he added in a lower tone, as if speaking to himself, but the woman heard it and looked up.

"I am very tired now," she murmured, "and the pangs of hunger torment me. All that I had to eat to-day I gave to the children."

"I know," Niu said. "I too am hungry, but there is no help for it." So saying[Pg 10] he sat down; but the girl, despite her weariness, built a pedestal out of the fragments around her, upon which she gently placed the head of her dishonored Buddha, for she was a most devout little heathen, and then she crept quietly back into the temple.

[Pg 11]

CHAPTER II.

As Niu Tsang sat with his head bowed upon his breast, lost in painful thoughts, and the woman closed her eyes and leaned against the temple wall that she might better rest, a shadow darkened the entrance, and caused them to spring hastily to their feet. In place of fierce soldiers, however, intent upon pillage or even murder, Niu to his surprise saw a solitary stranger, without weapon of any kind, eyeing them curiously. The newcomer even smiled at their evident dismay, and coming forward saluted them after the fashion of the country, bowing and gravely shaking his own hands.

"Be not alarmed, my friend," he said reassuringly to Niu. "I am like yourself, a belated traveller, and even now my[Pg 12] boat waits for me at the river bank. But as I had never passed this way before, though often had I heard of the splendid temple of many gods, I seized this opportunity to visit it."

As he spoke he looked around him, while a peculiar, half-quizzical expression lurked at the corners of his mouth.

"Behold it," Niu Tsang answered, making an expressive gesture. Then he went on passionately, his anger increasing at every word:

"The barbarians from beyond the sea could not have been more wicked than these rebels who have dared the vengeance of the gods. Traitors that they are! May none be left to bury them, no, not one to offer incense to their spirits. May they perish miserably, their graves forever unknown, their ghosts forever homeless."

"The ruin is indeed great," the stranger said calmly. "Were the gods deaf to[Pg 13] their prayers, that they should thus destroy them?"

"I know not," Niu said shortly, seating himself.

Seeing that his companion did not intend to speak further, but was eyeing him suspiciously, the newcomer continued:

"You seem travel-stained and weary, honored sir, as one who had journeyed from afar. May I ask whither you are bound, that you traverse this bleak plain?"

"To Lu Chang, foreign brother," was the courteous though terse reply.

At the title "foreign brother" the stranger started perceptibly, but he looked fearlessly at Niu from behind the great blue goggles that concealed his eyes, and went on in the same even tone:

"You have a long and tiresome pilgrimage, and the way is dangerous, for robbers and stray soldiers lurk around after the army has passed. It will [Pg 14]therefore behoove you to be careful, lest you and yours fall by the wayside," and he glanced toward the woman, who stood apart, her back turned to them.

"When Ten Wang[1] has decreed a man to die at the third watch, no power will detain him until the fifth," Niu quoted, sagely.

"You have spoken wisely, my brother," the stranger answered, "yet it were better not to tempt destiny. And now, the night comes on, and I must hasten lest I run into the very dangers of which I warn you."

Then, as if attracted by a certain pinched look on the face of the child that slept on the ground near where he stood, he said, quickly:

"I have provisions, and to spare, in this hamper," pointing to a large basket that he had set down when he first saw Niu, "and in the morning I will reach my[Pg 15] destination. Will you not accept it, and thereby lighten a traveller's load?"

At his words the woman turned toward him with an exclamation of delight, and her husband's face lost the look it had worn during the interview, as he now attempted to speak. The stranger did not wait for the grateful thanks that rushed to their lips, but went hastily into the temple, and there he found a girl with patient, solemn eyes, seated among the ruins of her gods. As he entered, he saw that with her ragged dress she was wiping the dirt from the scarred and grimacing goddess of mercy, and he stopped to watch her. Frightened at his appearance, she arose and stood waiting for him to pass, but he said sadly:

"Your gods, my child, are but wood and stone, and cannot hear your prayers. The one true God lives in Heaven, watching over you, and loving you, and there is no other God but Him."

[Pg 16]

Awed by his strange words, yet understanding them not, she gazed at him in silence, and, moved by a sudden impulse, he laid his hand tenderly on her head.

"May the God of love and peace bring you at last to His kingdom," he murmured, and was gone.

Perhaps, had he known that this quiet girl was destined to be one of the great women of the world, at whose slightest word, millions, even hundreds of millions, of loyal subjects would bow the knee, he would have spoken longer with her, but this he never knew.

It was not until they had eaten with all the zest that hunger gives of the provisions left them by the stranger, that the girl raised her eyes to the calm blue heavens above her, now dotted with countless glowing stars, and said, abruptly:

"Father, the stranger told me, in the temple, about one true God, who is alive, and who lives up there. What did he[Pg 17] mean? I never heard before of Him, and I have worshipped many gods."

Niu Tsang nodded quickly at this confirmation of his suspicions.

"It is as I thought," he said. "Although that traveller wore the honorable costume of our country, and spoke to us in our own tongue, yet methinks he was not one of us, but a barbarian from beyond the sea."

The girl shuddered.

"And he talked to me!" she cried in horror. "I never dreamed that he was a foreign devil."

"Be he what he may, he was most kind to us," her father reminded her, "for his food was not polluted."

"But what god is this that he worships?" she asked.

"He spoke of the Jesus doctrine, of which, perhaps, he is a teacher," her father answered in the tone of one who had finished the conversation.

[Pg 18]

"But who is Jesus?" the curious child persisted.

"He is the god of barbarians and devils, Tuen," her father said sternly. "He is not so wise as Confucius, nor so great as Buddha, else you would have heard of him long ago."

"And yet he called him a God of Love," she went on musingly, not heeding her father's frown. "Is there a God of Love?"

"No," Niu Tsang said shortly. "All the gods hate the children of men, but because we offer prayers and incense they sometimes listen to us."

Tuen said nothing more, but that night from her bed in the open court she looked up at the silver river[2] winding among the golden stars, and wondered what god it was who lived so far away you could only dimly see his lamps shining through the blue, and she felt she would like to[Pg 19] know if all the gods really hated her, and if so, what she had done to make them angry. Thus musing she fell asleep, and in the many strange events that soon crowded into her little life and filled it to overflowing, she forgot all about the stranger and his God.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] The god of fate.

[2] Chinese name for Milky Way.

[Pg 20]

CHAPTER III.

Many conflicting emotions have torn the heart of poor little Tuen since she sat among the fallen idols in the lonely temple, and she has learned that life may be a hateful thing, even to the young. After long weeks of privation and hopelessness, after the bitter disappointment of finding that even in the great city of Lu Chang food and clothing were not for those who could not buy, she realized suddenly with that exaltation of martyrdom that comes to strong women in all climes and in all ages, that she must be the sacrifice offered for the happiness of her dear ones.

[Pg 21]

So one day she went to the despairing Niu Tsang and said quietly:

"Father, do not longer grieve. I have found a way out of all our trouble."

He looked at her in amazement, and she went on quickly:

"I am young and strong, but, alas! a useless burden to you. I have thought about it for long, and yesterday when I heard it said on the street that many strings of cash are paid for girls like me, I knew I could be the one to save you. If you can only sell me to some great mandarin, the price will be enough to enable you to go back to the home of our ancestors, there to pass your days in peace."

"Never!" her father cried vehemently. "You do not know what you are talking about. Sell you to be a slave, you in whose veins flows the blood of the unconquerable Tartars, whose people have been mandarins and rulers,—sell you to some[Pg 22] despot master? By the memory of Confucius, never!"

"Do not answer me to-day, father," she said slowly, knowing that the pangs of hunger which would come with the morrow were stronger than love or pride or any other human feeling. "Only think it over, and remember that I must work anyway, and a woman's lot is ever hard. 'T is so ordained by the gods. Consider well before you refuse to procure comfort for all by such simple means."

Niu Tsang shook his head with stern determination, for although it is not a Chinese custom to care for the girls of the household, in the long days he and Tuen had journeyed together he had become deeply attached to his wise little daughter, and he was most unwilling to part with her. But he weighed well her words, and goaded on by cruel shameless hunger, that remembers neither blood nor conscience, he at last consented to her plan.

[Pg 23]

"The iron hand of poverty crushes the spirit of the proudest," he murmured sadly.

It so happened that on the third morning after Tuen had talked with him, the Viceroy of the province, seated in a sedan borne by eight attendants, for the number of these chair-bearers is a sign of official rank, came to the Ching-hwang-miau (City Guardian's Temple) to worship. Now in front of this temple was always a numerous gathering, composed of venders of different wares, idlers, and beggars, and among this throng stood Niu Tsang and his family. Too proud to descend to the level of a common beggar, and unable to find work, he now waited for a fitting opportunity to dispose of Tuen, since that seemed the only means left by which he could repair his fallen fortunes. As the Viceroy, alighting from his chair, entered the portal, Tuen crept closer to her father and whispered: "Offer me to him when he comes out. He is a[Pg 24] great man, with much money, and doubtless has many slaves."