tihvavy of 1:he t:heolo0ical ^tmimvy PRINCETON • NEW JERSEY PURCHASED BY THE HAMILL MISSIONARY FUND BV 3317 .M35 A3 1912 McGilvary, Daniel, 1828- 1911. A half century among the A HALF CENTURY AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO vOU^.^:^^ "^^.^^^^^ A HALF CENTURY AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY By DANIEL McGILVARY, D.D. WITH AN APPRECIATION BY ARTHUR J. BROWN, D.D. ILLUSTRATED New York Chicago Toronto Fleming H. Revell Company London and Edinburgh Copyright, igi2, by FLEMING H. REVELL COMrANY New York: 158 Fifth Avenue Chicago: 125 N. Wabash Ave. Toronto: 25 Richmond St., W. London: 21 Paternoster Square Edinburgh: 100 Princes Street TO MY WIFE AN APPRECIATION MISSIONARY biography is one of the most in- teresting and instructive of studies. It is, however, a department of missionary litera- ture to which Americans have not made proportionate contribution. The foreign missionary Societies of the United States now represent more missionaries and a larger expenditure than the European Societies, but most of the great missionary biographies are of British and Continental missionaries, so that many Americans do not realize that there are men connected with their own Societies whose lives have been characterized by eminent devotion and large achievement. Because I regarded Dr. McGilvary as one of the great missionaries of the Church Universal, I urged him sev- eral years ago to write his autobiography. He was then over seventy-five years of age, and I told him that he could not spend his remaining strength to any bet- ter advantage to the cause he loved than in preparing such a volume. His life was not only one of unusual length (he lived to the ripe age of eighty-three), but his missionary service of fifty-three years covered an inter- esting part of the history of missionary work in Siam, and the entire history, thus far, of the mission to the Lao people of northern Siam. There is no more fascinating story in fiction or in that truth which is stranger than fiction, than the story of his discovery of a village of strange speech near his station at Pecha- buri, Siam, his learning the language of the villagers, his long journey with his friend, Dr. Jonathan Wilson, 1 2 AN APPRECIATION into what was then the unknown region of northern Siam, pushing his little boat up the great river and pausing not until he had gone six hundred miles north- ward and arrived at the city of Chiengmai. The years that followed were years of toil and privation, of lone- liness and sometimes of danger; but the missionaries persevered with splendid faith and courage until the foundations of a prosperous Mission were laid. In all the marked development of the Lao Mission, Dr. McGilvary was a leader — the leader. He laid the foundations of medical work, introducing quinine and vaccination among a people scourged by malaria and smallpox, a work which has now developed into five hospitals and a leper asylum. He began educational work, which is now represented by eight boarding schools and twenty-two elementary schools, and is fast expanding into a college, a medical college, and a theological seminary. He was the evangelist who won the first converts, founded the first church, and had a prominent part in founding twenty other churches, and in developing a Lao Christian Church of four thousand two hundred and five adult communicants. His colleague, the Rev. Dr. W. C. Dodd, says that Dr. McGilvary selected the sites for all the present stations of the Mission long before committees formally sanc- tioned the wisdom of his choice. He led the way into regions beyond and was the pioneer explorer into the French Lao States, eastern Burma, and even up to the borders of China. Go where you will in northern Siam, or in many sections of the extra-Siamese Lao States, you will find men and women to whom Dr. Mc- Gilvary first brought the Good News. He well de- serves the name so frequently given him even in his life- time—" The Apostle to the Lao." AN APPRECIATION 3 It was my privilege to conduct our Board's corre- spondence with Dr. McGilvary for more than a decade, and, in 1902, to visit him in his home and to journey with him through an extensive region. I have abiding and tender memories of those memorable days. He was a Christian gentleman of the highest type, a man of cultivation and refinement, of ability and scholar- ship, of broad vision and constructive leadership. His evangelistic zeal knew no bounds. A toilsome journey on elephants through the jungles brought me to a Saturday night with the weary ejaculation: "Now we can have a day of rest ! " The next morning I slept late; but Dr. McGilvary did not; he spent an hour be- fore breakfast in a neighbouring village, distributing tracts and inviting the people to come to a service at our camp at ten o'clock. It was an impressive service, — under a spreading bo tree, with the mighty forest about us, monkeys curiously peering through the tangled vines, the huge elephants browsing the bamboo tips behind us, and the wondering people sitting on the ground, while one of the missionaries told the deathless story of redeeming love. But Dr. McGilvary was not present. Seventy-four years old though he was, he had walked three miles under a scorching sun to another village and was preaching there, while Dr. Dodd conducted the service at our camp. And I said : " If that is the way Dr. McGilvary rests, what does he do when he works ? " Dr. McKean, his associate of many years, writes : " No one who has done country evangelistic work with Dr. McGilvary can ever forget the oft-seen picture of the gray-haired patriarch seated on the bamboo floor of a thatch-covered Lao house, teaching some one to read. Of course, the book faced the pupil, and it was 4 AN APPRECIATION often said that he had taught so many people in this way that he could read the Lao character very readily with the book upside down. Little children in- stinctively loved him, and it is therefore needless to say that he loved them. In spite of his long snow- white beard, never seen in men of this land and a strange sight to any Lao child, the children readily came to him. Parents have been led to God because Dr. McGilvary loved their children and laid his hands upon them. In no other capacity was the spirit of the man more manifest than in that of a shepherd. Al- ways on the alert for every opportunity, counting neither time nor distance nor the hardship of inclement weather, swollen streams, pathless jungle, or impass- able road, he followed the example of his Master in seeking to save the lost. His very last journey, which probably was the immediate cause of his last illness, was a long, wearisome ride on horseback, through muddy fields and deep irrigating ditches, to visit a man whom he had befriended many years ago and who seemed to be an inquirer," Dr. McGilvary was pre-eminently a man who walked with God. His piety was not a mere profession, but a pervasive and abiding force. He knew no greater joy than to declare the Gospel of his blessed Lord to the people to whose up-lifting he had devoted his life, " If to be great is ' to take the common things of life and walk truly among them,' he was a great man — great in soul, great in simplicity, great in faith and great in love. Siam is the richer because Daniel Mc- Gilvary gave her fifty-three years of unselfish service." Mrs. Curtis, the gifted author of Th^ Laos of North Siam, says of Dr. McGilvary : '^ Neither Carey nor Jud- son surpassed him in strength of faith and zeal of pur- AN APPRECIATION 5 pose; neither Paton nor Chalmers has outranked him in the wonders of their achievements, and not one of the other hundreds of missionaries ever has had more evidence of God's blessing upon their work." Not only the missionaries but the Lao people loved him as a friend and venerated him as a father. Some of his intimate friends were the abbots and monks of the Buddhist monasteries and the high officials of the country. No one could know him without recognizing the nobility of soul of this saintly patriarch, in whom was no guile. December Gth, 1910, many Americans and Europeans celebrated the fiftieth anniversary of his marriage. The King of Siam through Prince Dam- rong, Minister of the Interior, sent a congratulatory message. Letters, telegrams, and gifts poured in from many different places. The Christian people of the city presented a large silver tray, on which was en- graved : " The Christian people of Chiengmai to Dr. and Mrs. McGilvary, in memory of your having brought the Gospel of Jesus Christ to us forty-three years ago." The tray showed in relief the old rest-house where Dr. and Mrs. McGilvary spent their first two years in Chiengmai, the residence which was later their home of many years, the old dilapidated bridge, and the hand- some new bridge which spans the river opposite the Christian Girls' School — thus symbolizing the old and the new eras. The recent tours of exploration by the Rev. W. Clif- ton Dodd, D.D., and the Rev. John H. Freeman have disclosed the fact that the Lao peoples are far more numerous and more widely distributed than we had formerly supposed. Their numbers are now estimated at from twelve to sixteen millions, and their habitat includes not only the Lao States of northern Siam but 6 AN APPRECIATION extensive regions north and northeastward in the Shan States, Southern China, and French Indo-China. The evangelization of these peoples is, therefore, an even larger and more important undertaking than it was understood to be only a few years ago. All the more honour, therefore, must be assigned to Dr. McGilvary, who laid foundations upon which a great superstruc- ture must now be built. Dr. McGilvary died as he would have wished to die and as any Christian worker might wish to die. There was no long illness. He continued his great evangel- istic and literary labours almost to the end. Only a short time before his death, he made another of his famous itinerating journeys, preaching the Gospel to the outlying villages, guiding perplexed people and comforting the sick and dying. He recked as little of personal hardship as he had all his life, thinking nothing of hard travelling, simple fare, and exposure to sun, mud, and rain. Not long after his return and after a few brief days of illness, he quietly " fell on sleep," his death the simple but majestic and dignified ending of a great earthly career. The Lao country had never seen such a funeral as that which marked the close of this memorable life. Princes, Governors, and High Commissioners of State sorrowed with multitudes of common people. The business of Chiengmai was suspended, oflSces were closed, and flags hung at half-mast as the silent form of the great missionary was borne to its last resting- place in the land to which he was the first bringer of enlightenment, and whose history can never be truly written without large recognition of his achievements. Fortunately, Dr. McGilvary had completed this auto- biography before his natural powers had abated, and AN APPRECIATION 7 had sent the manuscript to his brother-in-law, Pro- fessor Cornelius B. Bradley of the University of Cali- fornia. Dr. Bradley, himself a son of a great mission- ary to Siam, has done his editorial work with sympa- thetic insight. It has been a labour of love to him to put these pages through the press, and every friend of the Lao people and of Dr. McGilvary is his debtor. The book itself is characterized by breadth of sym- pathy, richness of experience, clearness of statement, and high literary charm. No one can read these pages without realizing anew that Dr. McGilvary was a man of fine mind, close observation, and descriptive gifts. The book is full of human interest. It is the story of a man who tells about the things that he heard and saw and who tells his story well. I count it a priv- ilege to have this opportunity of commending this vol- ume as one of the books which no student of southern Asia and of the missionary enterprise can afford to overlook. Arthur J. Brown. 156 Fifth Avenue, New York. PREFACE YEARS ago, in the absence of any adequate work upon the subject, the officers of our Missionary Board and other friends urged me to write a book on the Lao Mission. Then there appeared Mrs. L. W. Curtis' interesting volume, The Laos of North Siam, much to be commended for its accuracy and its valuable information, especially in view of the author's short stay in the field. But no such work exhausts its subject. I have always loved to trace the providential circum- stances which led to the founding of the Lao Mission and directed its early history. And it seems important that before it be too late, that early history should be put into permanent form. I have, therefore, en- deavoured to give, with some fulness of detail, the story of the origin and inception of the Mission, and of its early struggles which culminated in the Edict of Religious Toleration. And in the later portions of the narrative I have naturally given prominence to those things which seemed to continue the character- istic features and the personal interest of that earlier period of outreach and adventure, and especially my long tours into the " regions beyond." The appearance during the past year of Rev. J. H. Freeman's An Oriental Land of the Free, giving very full and accurate information regarding the present status of the Mission, has relieved me of the necessity of going over the same ground again. I have, therefore, 9 10 PREFACE been content to draw my narrative to a close with the account of my last long tour in 1898. The work was undertaken with many misgivings, since my early training and the nature of my life- work have not been the best preparation for authorship. I cherished the secret hope that one of my own chil- dren would give the book its final revision for the press. But at last an appeal was made to my brother- in-law, Professor Cornelius B. Bradley of the Uni- versity of California, whose birth and years of service in Siam, whose broad scholarship, fine literary taste, and hearty sympathy with our missionary efforts in- dicated him as the man above all others best qualified for this task. His generous acceptance of this work, and the infinite pains he has taken in the revision and editing of this book, place me under lasting obligations to him. I wish to acknowledge my indebtedness to Dr. W. A. Briggs and to Rev. J. H. Freeman for the use of maps prepared by them, and to Dr. Briggs and others for the use of photographs. Daniel McGilvaby. April 6, 1911, Chiengmai. NOTE BY THE EDITOR THE task which has fallen to me in connection with this book, was undertaken as a labour of love; and such it seems to me even more, now that it ends in sadness of farewell. It has not been an easy task. The vast spaces to be traversed, and the months of time required before a question could receive its answer, made consultation with the author almost impossible. And the ever-present fear that for him the night might come before the work could receive a last revision at his hands, or even while he was still in the midst of his story, led me continually to urge upon him the need of persevering in his writing — which was evidently becoming an irksome task — and on my part to hasten on a piecemeal revision as the chapters came to hand, though as yet I had no meas- ure of the whole to guide me. It is, therefore, a great comfort to know that my urgency and haste were not in vain; that all of the revision reached him in time to receive his criticism and correction — though his letter on the concluding chap- ter was, as I understand, the very last piece of writing that he ever did. How serene and bright it was, and with no trace of the shadow so soon to fall ! But the draft so made had far outgrown the possible limits of publication, and was, of course, without due measure and proportion of parts. In the delicate task of its reduction I am much indebted to the kind sug- gestions of the Rev. Arthur J. Brown, D.D., and the 11 12 NOTE BY THE EDITOR Rev. A. W. Halsey, D.D., Secretaries of the Board of Foreign Missions of the Presbyterian Church, and of the Rev. W. C. Dodd, D.D., of the Lao Mission, who, fortunately, was in this country, and who read the manuscript. For what appears in this book, how- ever, I alone must assume the responsibility. " An autobiography is a personal book, expressive of per- sonal opinion." And whether we agree with them or not, the opinions of a man like Dr. McGilvary, formed during a long lifetime of closest contact with the mat- ters whereof he speaks, are an essential part not only of the history of those matters, but of the portrait of the man, and far more interesting than any mere de- tails of events or scenes. On all grave questions, there- fore, on which he has expressed his deliberate opinion, I have preferred to err on the side of inclusion rather than exclusion. The plan adopted in this volume for spelling Siamese and Lao words is intended to make possible, and even easy, a real approximation to the native pronunciation. Only the tonal inflections of native speech and the varieties of aspiration are ignored, as wholly foreign to our usage and, therefore, unmanageable. The consonant-letters used and the digraphs ch and ng have their common English values. The vowels are as follows : Long a as in father e as in tliey 1 as in pique o as in rode u as in rude, rood aw as in la ivn 6 as in there (without the r) NOTE BY THE EDITOR 13 6 as in loorld (without the r) t. is the high-mixed vowel, not found in English. It may be pronounced as u. Short a as in ahout (German Mann) — not as in hat. e as in set I as in sit o as in ohey (N. Eng. coat) — not as in cot. \i3i^m j)ull, foot — not as in hut. The last four long vowels have also their correspond- ing shorts, but since these rarely occur, it has not been thought worth while to burden the scheme with extra characters to represent them. The diphthongs are combinations of one of these vowels, heavily stressed, and nearly always long in quantity — which makes it seem to us exaggerated or drawled — with a " vanish" of short i, o, (for u), or a. ai (^English long i, y) and ao (=English ow) are the only diphthongs with short initial element, and are to be distinguished from ai and do. In deference to long established usage in maps and the like, ie is used in this volume where ia would be the consistent spell- ing, and oi for aim. A word remains to be said concerning the name of the people among whom Dr. McGilvary spent his life. That name has suffered uncommonly hard usage, espe- cially at the hands of Americans, as the following brief history will show. Its original form in European writing was Lao, a fairly accurate transcription by early French travellers of the name by which the Siamese call their cousins to the north and east. The word is a monosyllable ending in a diphthong similar to that heard in the proper names Macao, Mindanao, Calldo. In French writing the name often appeared 14 NOTE BY THE EDITOR in the plural form, les Laos; the added s, however, be- ing silent, made no difference with the pronunciation. This written plural, then, it would seem, English- speaking people took over without recognizing the fact that it was only plural, and made it their standard form for all uses, singular as well as plural. With characteristic ignorance or disregard of its proper pro- nunciation, on the mere basis of its spelling, they have imposed on it a barbarous pronunciation of their own — Lay-OSS. It is to be regretted that the usage of Amer- ican missionaries has been most effective in giving cur- rency and countenance to this blunder — has even added to it the further blunder of using it as the name of the region or territory, as well as of the people. But the word is purely ethnical — a proper adjective like our words French or English, and, like these, capable of substantive use in naming either the people or their language, but not their land. Needless to say, these errors have no currency whatever among European peoples excepting the English, and they have very little currency in England. It seems high time for us of America to amend not only our false pronunciation, but our false usage, and the false spelling upon which these rest. In accordance with the scheme of spelling adopted in this work, the a of the name Lao is marked with the macron to indicate its long quantity and Cornelius Beach Beadlby. Bebkblet, California, December. 1911. CONTENTS I. Childhood and Youth 19 11. Ministerial Training 35 III. Bangkok 43 IV. Pechabuki — The Call of the North 63 V. The Charter of the Lao Mission . 66 VI. Chikngmai . 77 VII. Pioneer Work 84 VIII. First-fruits . 95 IX. Martyrdom 102 X. The Royal Commission 118 XL Death of Kawilorot 130 XII. The New Regime 140 XIII. Exploration 160 XIV. First Furlough 160 XV. MuANG Ken and Chieng Dao 169 XVI. Seekers After God 180 XVIL The Resident Commissioner 191 XVIII. Witchcraft 199 XIX. The Edict of Religious Toleration 207 XX. Schools — The Nine Years' Wanderer 221 XXI. Second Furlough .... 236 XXII. A Surveying Expedition 244 XXIII. Evangelistic Training 255 XXIV. Struggle with the Powers of Dark NESS 266 XXV. Christian Communities Planted . 276 XXVI. A Foothold in Lampun . 289 15 16 CONTENTS XXVII. A Peisonek of Jesus Christ . . 300 XXVIII. Circuit Tour with My Daughter . 308 XXIX. Lengthening the Cords and Strength- ening THE Stakes . . . .320 XXX. Among the Muso Villages — Famine . 338 XXXI. Chieng Rung and the Sipsawng Panna 353 XXXII. Third Furlough — Station at Chieng Rai 370 XXXIII. The Regions Beyond . . . .386 XXXIV. The Closed Door 402 XXXV. Conclusion 413 Index 431 1869) i" In the Harvest Field . Girls' School in Chiengmai, 1892 . Rev. Jonathan Wilson, D.D., 1898 First Church in Chiengmai . Dr. McGilv art's Home in Chiengmai Mrs. McGilv art, 1893 . Muso People and Hut near Chieng Rai . . 348 17 70 ILLUSTRATIONS Daniel McGilvary .... Frontispiece FACING PAGE William J. Bingham 30 Maha Monkut, King of Siam, 1851-1872 . . 48 Pagoda of Wat Cheng, Bangkok ... 56 Rev. Dan Beach Bradley, M.D., 1872 . Kawilorot, Prince of Chiengmai (about A Rest Between Rapids in the Gorge of the Me Ping River V 76 Poling up the Me Ping River Temple of the Old Tai Style of Architecture, Chiengmai 82 A Cremation Procession 146 Interior of a Temple, Pre , . . . .158 An Abbot Preaching . . . . . .188 Intanon, Prince of Chiengmai , . . ) n^n Elder Nan Suwan ) Dr. McGilvary, 1881 I 238 Mrs. McGilvary, 1881 ) Chulalongkorn, King of Siam, 1872-1910 . . 242 Presbytery, Returning from Meeting in Lakawn 264 Market Scene in Chiengmai , . . ) 274 284 294 318 332 18 ILLUSTRATIONS FACING PAGE Group of Yunnan Lao 356 Phya Suka Sih, Siamese High Commissioner fob THE North 384 His Majesty, Maha Vajiravudh, King of Siam . 424 Dr. and Mrs. McGilvary, Fifty Years after Their Marriage 428 Map of Northern Siam Showing Mission Stations 326 Map of Siam 430 CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH HEREDITY and early environment exercise such a determining influence in forming a man's character and shaping his destiny that, with- out some linowledge of these as a clew, his after-life would often be unintelligible. And beyond these there is doubtless a current of events, directing the course of every man's life, which no one else can see so clearly as the man himself. In the following review of my early life, I have confined myself, therefore, to those events which seem to have led me to my life-work, or to have prepared me for it. By race I am a Scotsman of Scotsmen. My father, Malcom McGilvary, was a Highland lad, born in the Isle of Skye, and inheriting the marked characteristics of his race. In 1789, when Malcom was eleven years old, my grandfather brought his family to the United States, and established himself in Moore County, North Carolina, on the headwaters of the Cape Fear River. The McGilvarys had but followed in the wake of an earlier immigration of Scottish Highlanders, whose descendants to this day form a large proportion of the population of Moore, Cumberland, Richmond, Robeson, and other counties of North Carolina. My father's brothers gradually scattered, one going to the south- western, and two to the northwestern frontier. My father, being the youngest of the family, remained with 19 20 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO his parents on the homestead. The country was then sparsely settled; communication was slow and uncer- tain. The scattered members of the family gradually lost sight of one another and of the home. My mother belonged to the Mclver clan — from the same region of the Scottish Highlands, and as numerous in North Carolina as the McGilvarys were scarce. She was born in this country not long after the arrival of her parents. I was born May 16th, 1828, being the youngest of seven children. As soon after my birth as my mother could endure the removal, she was taken to Fayette- ville, thirty-five miles distant, to undergo a dangerous surgical operation. The journey was a trying one. Anaesthetics were as yet unknown. My poor mother did not long survive the shock. She died on the 23d of November of that year. Since feeding-bottles were not then in use, the motherless infant was passed around to the care of aunts and cousins, who had children of like age. Two aunts in particular, Catharine Mclver and Margaret McNeill, and a cousin, EflSe Mclver, always claimed a share in me for their motherly ministrations till, at last, I could be turned over to my sister Mary. She, though but six years my senior, was old beyond her years ; and the motherly care with which she watched over her lit- tle charge was long remembered and spoken of in the family. When I was four years old, my father married his second wife. Miss Nancy Mcintosh. The next nine years, till my father's death, June 8th, 1841, were spent in the uneventful routine of a godly family in a coun- try home. My father's rigid ideas of family discipline were inherited from his Presbyterian ancestors in CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 21 Scotland, and his own piety was of a distinctly old- school type. He was a ruling elder in the church at Buffalo, Fayetteville Presbytery, in which office he was succeeded by my brother, Evander, and three others of his sons became elders in other churches. No pressure of business was ever allowed to interfere with family worship night and morning. A psalm or hymn from the old village hymnbook always formed part of the service. My father was an early riser, and, in the winter time, family worship was often over before the dawn. Almost every spare moment of his time he spent in reading Scott's Family Bible, the Philadelphia Preshyteiian, or one of the few books of devotion which composed the family library. The special treasure of the book-case was the great quarto Illustrated Family Bible, with the Apocrypha and Brown's Concordance, published by M. Carey, Philadelphia, 1815. It was the only pictorial book in the library, and its pictures were awe-inspiring to us children — especially those in the Book of Revelation : — The Dragon Chained, The Beast with Seven Heads and Ten Horns, and the Vision of the Four Seals. These and the solemn themes of Rus- sell's Seven Sermons — which on rainy days I used to steal away by myself to read — made a profound im- pression on me. Scottish folk always carry the school with the kirk. Free schools were unknown; but after the crops were " laid by," we always had a subscription school, in which my father, with his large family, had a leading interest. The teacher " boarded around " with the pupils. Our regular night-task was three questions and answers in the Shorter Catechism — no small task for boys of ten or twelve years. My memory of the Catechism once stood me in good stead in after-life. 22 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO When examined for licensure by the Orange Pres- bytery, I was asked, " What is man's state by nature ? " In reply I gave the answers to the nineteenth and twentieth questions in the Catechism. A perceptible smile passed over the faces of many of the presbyters, and Father Lynch said, " He is right on the Catechism. He will pass." In those days to be " right on the Catechism " would atone for many failures in Hodge or Turretin. The church was at the village of Buffalo, four miles from our home, but no one of the family was expected to be absent from the family pew on " the Sabbath." Carriages were a later luxury in that region. Our two horses carried father and mother, with the youngest of the little folks mounted behind, till he should be able to walk with the rest. The great event of the year was the camp-meeting at the Fall Communion. It served as an epoch from which the events of the year before and after it were dated. For weeks before it came, all work on the farm was arranged with reference to " Buffalo Sacra- ment " — pronounced with long a in the first syllable. It was accounted nothing for people to come fifteen, twenty, or even forty miles to the meetings. Every pew- holder had a tent, and kept open house. No stranger went away hungry. Neighbouring ministers were in- vited to assist the pastor. Services began on Friday, and closed on Monday, unless some special interest sug- gested the wisdom of protracting them further. The regular order was: A sunrise prayer-meeting, break- fast, a prayer-meeting at nine, a sermon at ten, an in- termission, and then another sermon. The sermons were not accounted of much worth if they were not an hour long. The pulpit was the tall old-fashioned box- CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 23 pulpit with a sounding-board above. For want of room in the church, the two sermons on Sunday were preached from a stand in the open air. At the close of the second sermon the ruling elders, stationed in various parts of the congregation, distributed to the communicants the " tokens," ^ which admitted them to the sacramental table. Then, in solemn procession, the company marched up the rising ground to the church, singing as they went : " Children of the Heavenly King, As ye journey sweetly sing." It was a beautiful sight, and we boys used to climb the hill in advance to see it. When the audience was seated, there was a brief introductory exercise. Then a hymn was sung, while a group of communicants filled the places about the communion table. There was an address by one of the ministers, during the progress of which the bread and the wine were passed to the group at the table. Then there was singing again, while the first group retired, and a second group took its place. The same ceremony was repeated for them, and again for others, until all communicants present had participated. Th9 communion service must have occupied nearly two hours. One thing I remember well — when the children's dinner-time came (which was after all the rest had dined), the sun was low in the heavens, and there was still a night service before us. Notwithstanding some inward rebellion, it seemed all right then. But the same thing nowadays would drive all the young people out of the church. * The "token" was a thin square piece of lead stamped with the Initial letter of the name of the church. 24 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO With some diffidence I venture to make one criti- cism on our home life. The " Sabbath " was too rigidly observed to commend itself to the judgment and conscience of children — too rigidly, perhaps, for the most healthy piety in adults. It is hard to convince boys that to whistle on Sunday, even though the tune be " Old Hundred," is a sin deserving of censure. An afternoon stroll in the farm or the orchard might even have clarified my father's vision for the enjoyment of his Scott's Bible at night. It would surely have been a means of grace to his boys. But such was the Scot- tish type of piety of those days, and it was strongly held. The family discipline was of the reserved and dignified type, rather than of the affectionate. Im- plicit obedience was the law for children. My father loved his children, but never descended to the level of familiarity with them when young, and could not sympathize with their sports. But dark days were coming. Brother John Martin presently married and moved west. In August, 1840, an infant sister died of quinsy — the first death I ever witnessed. On June 8th, 1841, the father and " house- bond " of the family was taken away. The inher- itance he left his children was the example of an up- right, spotless life — of more worth than a legacy of silver and gold. These we might have squandered, but that was inalienable. At thirteen, I was small for my age — too small to do a man's work on the farm ; and there was no money with which to secure for me an education. Just then oc- curred one of those casual incidents which often deter- mine the whole course of one's life. Mr. Roderick Mc- intosh, one of my mother's cousins, being disabled for hard work on the farm, had learned the tailor's trade, CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 25 and was then living in the village of Pittsboro, twenty- one miles away. His father was a neighbour of ours, and a man after my father's own heart. The two fam- ilies had thus always been very intimate. While the question of my destiny was thus in the balance, this cousin, one day, while on a visit to his father, called at our house. He had mounted his horse to leave, when, turning to Evander, he asked, " What is Dan'l going to do ? " My brother replied, " There he is ; ask him." Turning to me, he said, " Well, Dan'l, how would you like to come and live with me? I will teach you a trade." I had never thought of such a thing, nor had it ever been mentioned in the family. But somehow it struck me favourably. Instinctively I replied, " I be- lieve I should like it." A life-question could not have been settled more fortuitously. But it was the first step on the way to Siam and the Lao Mission. On the last day of August, 1841, I bade farewell to the old home, with all its pleasant associations. Every spot of it was dear, but never so dear as then. Accompanied by my brother Evander, each of us riding one of the old family horses, I started out for my new home. The departure was not utterly forlorn, since Evander was still with me. But the parting from him, as he started back next day, was probably the hard- est thing I had ever experienced. I had to seek a quiet place and give vent to a flood of tears. For a time I was inexpressibly sad. I realized, as never be- fore, that I was cut loose from the old moorings — was alone in the world. But the sorrows of youth are soon assuaged. No one could have received a warmer wel- come in the new home than I did. There were two children in the family, and they helped to fill the void made by the separation. 26 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO Pittsboro was not a large village, but its outlook was broader than that of my home. The world seemed larger. I myself felt larger than I had done as a country boy. I heard discussion of politics and of the questions of the day. The county was strongly Whig, but Mr. Mcintosh was an unyielding Democrat, and as fond of argument as a politician. According to south- ern custom, stores and shops were favourite resorts for passing away idle time, and for sharpening the wits of the villagers. The recent Presidential campaign of 1840 furnished unending themes for discussion in our little shop. There was no Presbyterian church in Pittsboro at that time. The church-going population was divided between the Methodist and the Episcopalian churches, the former being the larger. With my cousin's family I attended the Methodist church. On my first Sunday I joined the Methodist Sunday School, and that school was the next important link in my chain of life. Its special feature was a system of prizes. A certain num- ber of perfect answers secured a blue ticket ; ten of these brought a yellow ticket; and yellow tickets, according to the number of them, entitled the possessor to various prizes — a hymnbook, a Bible, or the like. On the first Sunday I was put into a class of boys of my own age, at work on a little primer of one hundred and six questions, all answered in monosyllables. By the next Sunday I was able to recite the whole, to- gether with the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed at the end. It was no great feat ; but the teacher and the school thought it was. So, on the strength of my very first lesson, I got a yellow ticket, and was promoted to the next higher class. That stimulated my ambition, and I devoted my every spare hour to CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 27 study. The next book was one of questions and an- swers on the four Gospels. They were very easy; I was able to commit to memory several hundred answers during the week. In a few Sundays I got my first prize; and it was not long before I had secured all the prizes offered in the school. What was of far more value than the prizes was the greater love for study and for the Scriptures which the effort had awakened in me, and a desire for an education. The shop was often idle; I had plenty of time for study, and made the most of it. At one of the subsequent Quarterly Meetings, a Rev. Mr. Brainard, who had considerable reputation as a revivalist, preached one Sunday night a vivid and thrilling sermon on Noah's Ark and the Flood. So marked was the impression on the audience, that, at the close, according to the Methodist custom, " mourn- ers " were invited to the altar. Many accepted the in- vitation. A young friend sitting beside me was greatly affected. With streaming eyes he said, " Dan'l, let us go, too," rising up and starting as he spoke. After a few moments I followed. By this time the space about the altar was well filled. There was great excite- ment and no little confusion — exhortation, singing, and prayer going on all at once. A number of persons made profession of religion, and soon my young friend joined them. He was full of joy, and was surprised to find that I was not so, too. The meetings were con- tinued night after night, and each night I went to the altar. As I look back upon it from this distance, it seems to me that, with much exhortation to repent and believe, there was not enough of clear and definite instruction regarding the plan of salvation, or the of- fices and work of Christ. One night, in a quiet hour 28 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO at home, the grounds and method of a sinner's ac- ceptance of Christ became clear to me, and He became my Lord, Soon after, when invitation was given to the new con- verts to join the church as probationers, I was urged by some good friends to join with the rest; and was myself not a little inclined to do so. It was no doubt the influence of my cousin that enabled me to with- stand the excitement of the revival and the gentle pressure of my Methodist friends, and to join, instead, my father's old church at Buffalo. But I owe more than I shall ever know to that Sunday School, and since then I have always loved the Methodist Church. Meanwhile the prospects for an education grew no brighter, though Mr. Brantley, then a young graduate in charge of the Pittsboro Academy, but afterward a distinguished Baptist minister of Philadelphia, gave me a place in his school at idle times ; and a Dr. Hall used to lend me books to read. When the opportunity for acquiring an education finally came, it was as unexpected as a clap of thun- der out of a blue sky. The celebrated Bingham School, now in Asheville, North Carolina, was then, as now, the most noted in the South. It was started by Rev. Will- iam Bingham in Pittsboro, North Carolina, in the closing years of the eighteenth century. It was moved to Hillsboro by his son, the late William J. Bingham, father of the present Principal. The school was patronized by the leading families of the South. The number of pupils was strictly limited. To secure a place, application had to be made a year or more in advance. My surprise, therefore, can well be imagined, when one day Baccus King, a young boy of the town, walked CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 29 into the shop with a letter addressed to Master Daniel McGilvary from no less a personage than William J. Bingham, the great teacher and Principal. At first I thought I was the victim of some boyish trick. But there was the signature, and the explanation that fol- lowed removed all doubt. Nathan Stedman, an in- fluential citizen of Pittsboro, was an early acquaintance and friend of Mr. Bingham. He had visited the school in person to secure a place for his nephew, young King, and had brought back with him the letter for me. What Mr. Bingham knew of me I never dis- covered. No doubt Mr. Stedman could have told, though up to that time I had never more than spoken with him. Be that as it may, there was the letter with its most generous offer that I take a course in Bingham School at the Principal's expense. He was to board me and furnish all necessary expenses, which, after graduation, I was to refund by teaching. If I became a minister of the Gospel, the tuition was to be free; otherwise I was to refund that also. To young King's enquiry what I would do, I replied, ^' Of course, I shall go." My cousin, Mr. Mcintosh, was scarcely less delighted than I was at the unexpected opening. The invitation to attend Bingham School came in the fall of 1845, when I was in my eighteenth year. There were then only two weeks till the school should open. I had little preparation to make. A pine box painted red was soon got ready to serve as a trunk, for my wardrobe was by no means elaborate. Mr. Sted- man kindly offered me a seat with Baccus and a friend of his who was returning to the school. On the way Baccus' friend entertained us with stories of the rigid discipline, for this was in the days when the rod was not spared. I had no fears of the rod, but I trembled 30 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO lest I should not sustain myself as well as such great kindness demanded. It might be a very different thing from winning a reputation in a Methodist Sunday School. It was dusk when we reached The Oaks. The fam- ily was at supper. Mr. Bingham came out to receive us. He told Baccus' friend to take him to his own old quarters, and, turning to me, said, " I have made ar- rangements for you to board with Mr. C, and to room with Mr. K., the assistant teacher, till my house is fin- ished, when you are to live with us. But we are at supper now. You must be hungry after your long ride. Come in and eat with us." After supper, Mr. Bingham went with me to my boarding-house, and introduced me to my hosts and to my chum, David Kerr. He welcomed me, and said he thought we should get along finely together. We not only did that, but he became a warm friend to whom I owed much. So I was in the great Bingham School, over- whelmed with a succession of unexpected kindnesses from so many quarters ! What did it all mean? My highest anticipations of the school were realized. If there ever was a born teacher, William J. Bingham was one. Latin and Greek were taught then by a method very different from the modern one. Before a sentence was read or translated, the invariable direc- tion was — master your grammar. In grammar-drill Mr. Bingham could have no superior. Bullion's Grammars and Readers were the text-books. The prin- cipal definitions were learned practically verbatim. The coarse print was required of all in the class. The older pupils were advised to learn notes, exceptions, and all. I never became so familiar with any other books as with that series of grammars. We were ex- WILLIAM J. BINGHAM CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 31 pected to decline every noun and adjective, alone or combined, from nominative singular to ablative plural, backwards or forwards, and to give, at a nod, voice, mood, tense, number, and person of any verb in the lesson. These exercises became at last so easy that they were great fun. Even now, sixty years later, I often put myself to sleep by repeating the old para- digms. It may seem that my estimate of Mr. Bingham is prejudiced by my sense of personal obligation to him for his kindness. Yet I doubt not that the universal verdict of every one who went there to study would be that he should be rated as one of the world's greatest teachers. The South owes much to him for the dignity he gave to the profession of teaching. No man ever left a deeper impress on me. Thousands of times I have thanked the Lord for the opportunity to attend his school. I was graduated from the school in May, 1849, a few days before I was twenty-one years old. On leaving my kind friends at The Oaks, I was again at sea. It will be remembered that, by my original agreement, I was booked for teaching — but I had no idea where. Once more the unexpected happened. In the midst of negotiations for a school in the southern part of the state, I was greatly surprised at receiving an offer from one of the prominent business men of my own town, Pittsboro, to assist me in organizing a new school of my own there. With much doubt and hesita- tion on my part — for there were already two prepara- tory schools in the place — the venture was made, and I began with ten pupils taught in a little business of- fice. The number was considerably increased during the year. But when the second year opened, I was put 32 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO in charge of the Academy, whose Principal had re- signed. Here, in work both pleasant and fairly profit- able, I remained until the four years for which I had agreed to stay were up. I had by no means reached my ideal. But, as my friends had predicted, it had been a success. Some of my warmest supporters were sure that I was giv- ing up a certainty for an uncertainty, in not making teaching my life-work. It had evidently been the hope of my friends from the first that I would make Pittsboro my home, and build up a large and perma- nent school there. But my purpose of studying for the ministry had never wavered, and that made it easier for me to break off. During these four years my relations with the newly organized Presbyterian church had been most pleas- ant and profitable. There was no resisting the appeal that I should become ruling elder. The superintend- ency of the Sunday School also fell naturally to me, and opened up another field of usefulness. The friend- ship formed with the pastor, the Rev. J. H. McNeill, is one of the pleasant memories of my life. One feature of the church connection must not be passed over. Neither of the other elders was so cir- cumstanced as to be able to attend the meetings of the Orange Presbytery. Three of the leading professors in the University were members of the Presbytery, and all the leading schools within its bounds were taught by Presbyterian ministers or elders. To accommodate this large group of teachers, the. meetings were held in midsummer and midwinter. Thus it fell to my lot to represent the Pittsboro church at the Presbytery dur- ing nearly the whole of the four years of my stay in Pittsboro. As it was then constituted, its meetings CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH 33 were almost equal to a course in church government. The Rev. J. Doll, one of the best of parliamentarians, was stated clerk. A group of members such as the two Drs. Phillips, father and son, Dr. Elisha Mitchell, of the University, and many others that could be named, would have made any assembly noted. Pro- fessor Charles Phillips, as chairman of the committee on candidates for the ministry, came into closer touch with me than most of the others. He afterwards fol- lowed my course in the Seminary with an interest ripening into a friendship which continued throughout his life. The meetings of the Presbytery were not then merely formal business meetings. They began on Wednesday and closed on Monday. They were looked forward to by the church in which they were to be held as spiritual and intellectual feasts. To the mem- bers themselves they were seasons of reunion, where friendships were cemented, and where wits were sharp- ened by intellectual conflicts, often before crowded con- gregations. Union Seminary, now of Richmond, Virginia, has always been under the direction of the Synods of North Carolina and Virginia; and there were strong reasons why students from those Synods should study there. They were always reminded of that obligation. But the high reputation of Drs. Hodge and Alexander was a strong attraction toward Princeton. My pastor and Professor Phillips, chairman of the committee in charge of me, had both studied there. So I was allowed to have my preference. No doubt this proved another stepping-stone to Siam. Union Seminary was not then enthusiastic in regard to foreign missions, as it has since become. At the last meeting of Presbytery 34 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO that I was to attend, Dr. Alexander Wilson moved that, inasmuch as Orange Presbytery owned a scholarship in Princeton Seminary, I be assigned to it. To my ob- jection that I had made money to pay my own way, he replied, " You will have plenty of need of your money. You can buy books with it." I followed the suggestion and laid in a good library. II MINISTERIAL TRAINING I ENTERED Princeton Seminary in the fall of 1853. I did not lodge in the Seminary building, but, through the kindness of Rev. Daniel Derouelle — whom, as agent of the American Bible So- ciety, I had come to know during his visits to Pitts- boro — I found a charming home in his family. There were, of course, some disadvantages in living a mile and a half away from the Seminary. I could not have the same intimate relations with my fellow students which I might have had if lodged in the Seminary. But I had the delightful home-life which most of them missed altogether. And the compulsory exercise of two, or sometimes three, trips a day, helped to keep me in health throughout my course. I became, indeed, a first-rate walker — an accomplishment which has since Btood me in good stead in all my life abroad. Being from the South, and not a college graduate, as were most of the students, I felt lonesome enough when, on the first morning of the session, I entered the Oratory and looked about me without discovering a single face that I knew. But at the close of the lecture some one who had been told by a friend to look out for me, touched me on the shoulder, made himself known, and then took me off to introduce me to J. Aspinwall Hodge, who was to be a classmate of mine. No man ever had a purer or a better friend than this 85 36 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO young man, afterward Dr. J. Aspinwall Hodge; and I never met a friend more opportunely. Of our revered teachers and of the studies of the Seminary course there is no need to speak here. Our class was a strong one. Among its members were such men as Gayley, Mills, Jonathan Wilson, Nixon, Lefevre, and Chaney. Of these Gayley and Mills were already candidates for missionary work abroad. In other classes were Robert McMullen and Isidore Loewen- thal, destined to become martyrs in Cawnpore and Peshawur. Many were the stirring appeals we heard from these men. Dr. Charles Hodge, too, had given a son to India ; and he never spoke more impressively than when he was pleading the cause of foreign mis- sions. Princeton, moreover, because of its proximity to New York and to the headquarters of the various missionary societies established there, was a favourite field for the visits of the Secretaries of these organi- zations, and of returned missionaries. A notable visit during my first year was that of Dr. Alexander Duff, then in his prime. No one who heard him could forget his scathing criticism of the church for " playing at missions," or his impassioned appeals for labourers. So the question was kept constantly before me. But during the first two years, the difficulty of the ac- quisition of a foreign language by a person not gifted in his own, seemed an obstacle well-nigh insuperable. Conscience suggested a compromise. Within the field of Home Missions was there not equal need of men to bring the bread of life to those who were perishing without it? With the object of finding some such op- portunity, I spent my last vacation, in the summer of 1855, in Texas as agent of the American Sunday School Union. MINISTERIAL TRAINING 37 Texas afforded, indeed, great opportunities for Chris- tian work; but in the one object of my quest — a field where Christ was not preached — I was disappointed. In every small village there was already a church — often more than one. Even in country schoolhouses Methodists, Baptists, and Cumberland Presbyterians had regular Sunday appointments, each having ac- quired claim to a particular Sunday of the month. Conditions were such that the growth of one sect usu- ally meant a corresponding weakening of the others. It was possible, of course, to find local exceptions. But it is easier even now to find villages by the hun- dred, with three, four, and even five Protestant churches, aided by various missionary societies ; where all the inhabitants, working together, could do no more than support one church well. This may be neces- sary; but it is surely a great waste. From this trip I had just returned with these thoughts in my mind, and was entering upon my senior year, when it was announced that Dr. S. R. House, a missionary from Siam, would address the students. Expectation was on tiptoe to hear from this new kingdom of Siam. The address was a revelation to us all. The opening of the kingdom to American mis- sionaries by the reigning monarch, Maha Mongkut — now an old story — was new then, and sounded like a veritable romance. My hesitation was ended. Here was not merely a village or a parish, but a whole kingdom, just waking from its long, dark, hopeless sleep. Every sermon I preached there might be to those who had never heard that there is a God in heaven who made them, or a Saviour from sin. The appeal was for volunteers to go at once. None, however, of the men who had announced themselves as 38 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO candidates for service abroad were available for Siam. They were all pledged to other fields. The call found Jonathan Wilson and myself in much the same state of expectancy, waiting for a clear revelation of duty. After anxious consultation and prayer together, and with Dr. House, we promised him that we would give the matter our most serious thought. If the Lord should lead us thither, we would go. Meanwhile the Rev. Andrew B. Morse had been ap- pointed a missionary to Siam, and the immediate urgency of the case was thus lightened. Shortly be- fore the close of my Seminary course, in 1856, there came to me a call to the pastorate of two contiguous churches, those of Carthage and of Union, in my native county in North Carolina. The call seemed a provi- dential one, and I accepted it for one year only. My classmate, Wilson, soon after accepted a call to work among the Indians in Spencer Academy. My parish was an admirable one for the training of a young man. The church at Union was one of the oldest in the state. The church at Carthage, five miles away, was a colony from Union. No distinct geographical line separated the two. Many of the people regularly attended both. That, of course, made the work harder for a young pastor. The extreme limits of the two parishes were fifteen miles apart. But these were church-going folk, mostly of Scottish descent — not " dry-weather Christians." The pastor- ate had been vacant a whole year. At the first morning service the church was crowded to its utmost capacity. Some came, no doubt, from curiosity to hear the new preacher; but most of them were hungry for the Gospel. They had all known my father; and some had known me — or known of me MINISTERIAL TRAINING 39 — from boyhood. I could not have had a more sym- pathetic audience, as I learned from the words of ap- preciation and encouragement spoken to me after church — especially those spoken by my brother, who was present. The year passed rapidly. The work had prospered and was delightful. In it I formed the taste for evangelistic touring, which was afterwards to be my work among the Lao. There had been a number of accessions in both churches. It was easy to become engrossed in one's first charge among a people so sym- pathetic, and to overlook far-away Siam. Indeed, I had become so far influenced by present surround- ings as to allow my name to be laid before a meet- ing of the congregation with a view to becoming their permanent pastor. Their choice of me was unanimous. Moreover, I had been dismissed from my old Pres- bytery to the one within whose bounds my parish was. The regular meeting of the latter was not far off, when arrangements were to be made for my ordina- tion and installation. As the time drew near, do what I might, my joy in accepting the call seemed marred by the thought of Siam. I learned that the Siamese Mission, in- stead of growing stronger, was becoming weaker. Mr. Morse's health had completely broken down during his first year in the field. He was then returning to the United States. Mrs. Mattoon had already come back an invalid. Her husband, after ten years in Siam, was greatly in need of a change; but was holding on in desperation, hoping against hope that he might be relieved. The question of my going to Siam, which had been left an open one, must now soon be settled by my ac- 40 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO cepting or declining. I needed counsel, but knew not on what earthly source to call. When the question of Siam first came up in Princeton, I had written to lead- ing members of the Orange Presbytery for advice, stat- ing the claims of Siam so strongly that I was sure these men would at least give me some encouragement toward going. But the reply I had from one of them was typical of all the rest : " We do not know about Siam; but we do know of such and such a church and of such and such a field vacant here in Orange Presbytery. Still, of course, it may be your duty to go to Siam." In that quarter, surely, there was no light for me. So I devoted Saturday, August 1st, to fasting and prayer for guidance. In the woods back of the Carthage church and the Academy, the decision was finally reached. I would go. Next morning I stopped my chief elder on his way to church, and informed him of my decision. After listening to my statement of the case, he replied, " Of course, if it is settled, there's nothing more to be said." It chanced that Mr. Russell, my former assistant in the Pittsboro Academy, had just finished his theo- logical course; and, wholly without reference to the question pending in my mind, had arranged to preach for me that day. The session was called together be- fore service, was notified of my decision, and was re- minded that the preacher of the day would be avail- able as a successor to me. He preached a good ser- mon, had a conference with the session afterwards, and was virtually engaged that day. The following week brought notice of my appointment as missionary to Siam. The last communion season of that year was one of more than usual interest. The meetings began on MINISTERIAL TRAINING 41 Friday. Since the minds of the congregation were already on the subject of foreign missions, and since Dr. McKay, from my home church, had been appointed by the Synod to preach on that subject at its coming session in Charlotte, I prevailed upon him to preach to us the sermon that he had prepared. The text was from Romans x:14, "How shall they hear without a preacher?" No subject could have been more ap- propriate to the occasion. It produced a profound impression. Some were affected to tears. The sermon was a good preparation for the com- munion service that followed. At the night service there was deep seriousness throughout the congrega- tion, and a general desire to have the meetings con- tinued. On Monday there was an unexpectedly large congregation. At the busiest season of the year farm- ers had left their crops to come. The meetings soon grew to be one protracted prayer-meeting, with occa- sional short applications of Scripture to the questions which were already pressing upon our minds. Finally, after the meetings had been continued from Friday until Wednesday week, they were reluctantly brought to a close; both because it seemed unwise to interrupt longer the regular life of the community, and also because the leaders no longer had the voice to carry them on. As a result of the meetings, there were about eighty accessions to the two Presbyterian churches, as well as a number to other churches. Many asked if I did not see in the revival reason to change my mind and remain. But the effect on me was just the opposite. It was surely the best preparation I could have had for the long test of faith while waiting for results in Siam. Inasmuch as my certificate of dismissal had never 42 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO been formally presented to the Fayetteville Presbytery, I preferred to return it to my old Orange Presbytery, and to receive my ordination at its hands. On De- cember 11th, the Presbytery met at my old home in Pittsboro. The installation of a foreign missionary was new to the Presbytery, as well as to the church and the community. When the ordaining prayer was ended, there seemed to be but few dry eyes in the con- gregation. It was a day I had little dreamed of six- teen years before, when I first came to Pittsboro an orphan boy and an apprentice. I felt very small for the great work so solemnly committed to me. Mis- sionary fields were further off in those days than they are now, and the undertaking seemed greater. The future was unknown; but in God was my trust — and He has led me. Ill BANGKOK ON reaching New York I went directly to the Mission House, then at 23 Centre Street. As I mounted the steps, the first man I met on the landing was Jonathan Wilson. We had exchanged a few letters, and each knew that the other had not for- gotten Siam; but neither expected to meet the other there. "Where are you going?" said one. "I am on my way to Siam," said the other. "■ So am I," was the reply. In the meantime he had married and, with his young wife, was in New York awaiting passage. We took the first opportunity that ofliered, the clipper ship David Brow7i, bound for Singapore, and sailing on March 11th, 1858. Sailors have a tradition that it is unlucky to have missionaries on board ; but the weather was propitious throughout, and the voyage a prosperous one. We three were the only passengers, and we proved to be good sailors. Our fare was reasonably good. We had plenty of good reading, and soon settled down to steady work. The ship was somewhat undermanned; and this fact was given as an excuse for not having seiTice on Sundays. But we had a daily prayer-meet- ing throughout the voyage, with just a sufficient num- ber present to plead the promise : " Where two or three are gathered together in my name." We also had free access to the men in the forecastle when off duty. We had the excitement of an ocean race with a twin 43 44 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO ship of the same line, which was to sail a week after us. As we reached Anjer Straits on the seventy-eighth day out, a sail loomed up which proved to be our com- petitor. She had beaten us by a week! Ten days later we reached Singapore, where, indeed, we met no brethren, but were met by welcome letters from Siam. Like Paul at the Three Taverns, " we thanked God and took courage." One of the letters ran thus : " Those were good words that came to our half -discouraged band — the tidings that we are to have helpers in our work. ... In our loneliness we have sometimes been tempted to feel that our brethren at home had forgotten us. But we rejoice to know that there are hearts in the church which sympathize with us, and that you are willing to come and participate with us in our labours and trials, our joys and sorrows, for we have both." We were fortunate to secure very early passage for Bangkok. On Friday, June 18th, we reached the bar at the mouth of the Menam River. The next day we engaged a small schooner to take us up to Bangkok. With a strong tide against us, we were not able that evening to get further than Mosquito Point — the most appropriately-named place in all that land — only to learn that we could not reach Bangkok until Monday afternoon. There was no place to sleep on board ; and no sleeping would have been possible, had there been a place. By two o'clock in the morning we could endure it no longer; — the mosquito contest was too unequal. At last we found a man and his wife who would take us to the city in their two-oared skiff. Fifty years' residence in Siam has not surpassed the romance of that night's ride. Leaving our goods be- hind, we seated ourselves in the tiny craft. With gun- wales but two inches above the water's edge, we BANGKOK 45 skimmed along through a narrow winding canal over- hung with strange tropical trees. The moon was full, but there was a haze in the air, adding weirdness to things but dimly seen. The sight of our first Buddhist monastery, with its white columns and grotesque fig- ures, made us feel as if we were passing through some fairyland. Just at dawn on Sunday morning, June 20th, 1858, we landed at the mission compound. Our quick passage of only one hundred days took our friends by surprise. Dr. House, roused by our voices on the veranda, came en deshahille to the door to see what was the matter. Finding who we were, the eager man thrust his hand through a vacant square of the sash, and shook hands with us so, before he would wait to open the door. We were in Bangkok! It was as if we had waked up in a new world — in the Bangkok to which we had looked forward as the goal of our hopes ; which was to be, as we supposed, the home of our lives. The Rev. Mr. Mattoon was still at his post, awaiting our coming. Mrs. Mattoon and her daughters had been compelled to leave for home some time before our arrival. And not long thereafter Mr. Mattoon fol- lowed them on his furlough, long overdue. Besides the two men of our own mission, we found in Bangkok the Rev. Dan B. Bradley, M.D., who was conducting a self-supporting mission; Rev. S. J. Smith, and Rev. R. Telford of the Baptist mission. Since neither Bangkok nor Lower Siam proved to be my permanent home, I shall content myself with a very summary account of the events of the next three years. The first work of a new missionary is to acquire the language of the country. His constant wish is, Oh 46 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO for a gift of tongues to speak to the people ! As soon as a teacher could be found, I settled to work at my kaw, kd, ki, kl? No ambitious freshman has such an incentive for study as has the new missionary. It is well if he does not confine himself to grammar and dictionary, as he did in the case of his Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. Pallegoix's DictlonarUnn Linguae Thai, and his short Grammar in Latin, were all the foreign helps we had. The syntax of the language is easy; but the " tones," the " aspirates," and '' inaspirates," are perplexing beyond belief. You try to say " fowl." No, that is '' egg." You mean to say " rice," but you actually say " mountain." A thousand times a day the new missionary longs to open his mouth, but his lips are sealed. It is a mat- ter of continual regret that he cannot pour out his soul in the ardour of his first love, unchilled by the deadening influences to which it is sure to be sub- jected later. But the delay is not an unmitigated evil. He is in a new world, in which he is constantly reminded of the danger of giving offence by a breach of custom as unalterable as the laws of the Medes and Persians. A bright little boy runs up and salutes you. You stroke his long black hair, only to be reminded by one of your seniors — " Oh ! you must never do that ! It is a mortal offence to lay your hand on a person's head." So, while you are learning the language, you are learning other things as well, and of no less im- portance. In the mission school there was a class of bright boys named N^, Dit, Chftn, Kwai, Henry, and one girl, Tuan. To my great delight, Dr. House kindly turned them over to me. It made me think I was 1 The first exercise of the Siamese Spelling-book. BANGKOK 47 doing something, and I really was. I soon became deeply interested in these children. Ne grew to be an important business man and an elder in the church; Tiian's family became one of the most influential in the church. Her two sons, the late Bun It and Elder Bun Yi of the First Church in Chiengmai, have been among the very best fruits of the mission ; though my personal share in their training was, of course, very slight. In the September after our arrival there was organized the Presbytery of Siam, with the four men of the mission as its constituent members. During the first two years, moreover, I made a number of tours about the country— sometimes aloue> oftener with Dr. House, and once with Mr. Wilson. I had the pleasure of meeting His Majesty the King of Siam, not only at his birthday celebrations, to which foreigners were invited, but once, also, at a public audience on the occasion of the presentation of a letter from President James Buchanan of the United States. This was through the courtesy of Mr. J. H. Chandler, the acting United States Consul. Two royal state barges were sent down to the Consulate to receive the President's letter and the consular party. Siamese etiquette requires that the letter be accorded the same honour as would be given the President in per- son. In the first barge was the letter, placed in a large golden urn, with a pyramidal cover of gold, and escorted by the four officers who attend upon His Majesty when he appears in public. In the second barge was the consular party. After a magnificent ride of four miles up the river, we were met at the palace by gilded palanquins for the members of the party, while the letter, in a special palanquin and under the golden umbrella, led the way 48 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO to the Palace, some quarter of a mile distant. At the Palace gate a prince of rank met us, and ushered us into the royal presence, where His Majest}' sat on his throne of gold, richly overhung with gilded tapestry. Advancing toward the throne, and bowing low, we took our stand erect, while every high prince and noble- man about us was on bended knees, not daring to raise his eyes above the floor. The Consul then read a short introductory speech, stepped forward, and placed the letter in the extended hands of the King. Having glanced over it, the King handed it to his secretary, who read it aloud. His Majesty translating the substance of it to the princes and nobles present. The King then arose, put his scarf about his waist, girded on his golden sword, came down, and shook hands with each of the party. Then, with a wave of his hand, he said, '* We have given President Buchanan the first public reception in our new palace," adding, '^ I honour President Buchanan very much." He escorted the party around the room, showing us the portraits of George Washington, Presi- dent Pierce, Queen Victoria, and Prince Albert. Then, turning to the proper ofiQcer, he directed him to con- duct us to an adjoining room to partake of a luncheon prepared for us; and, with a bow, withdrew. After " tiffin," we were escorted to the landing as we had come, and returned in like state in the royal barge to the Consulate. Altogether it was a notable occasion. Of the tours undertaken in Lower Siam, the one which led to the most lasting results was one in 1859 to Pechaburi, which has since become well known as one of our mission stations. For companion on this trip I had Cornelius Bradley, son of the Rev. Dr. Brad- MAHA MONKUT, KING OF SIAM, 1851-1872 BANGKOK 49 ley of Bangkok. Shortly before this a rising young nobleman, and a liberal-minded friend of foreigners, had been assigned to the place ostensibly of lieutenant- governor (Pra Palat) of PechaburT, but practically of governor. He was a brother of the future Regent; had been on the first embassy to England; and at a later period became Minister for Foreign Affairs. At our call, His Excellency received us very kindly, and before we left invited us to dine with him on the following evening. The dinner was one that would have done credit to any hostess in America. I was still more surprised when, at the table, addressing me by a title then given to all missionaries, he said, "Maw" (Doctor), "I want you to come and live in PechaburT. You have no family. I will furnish you a house, and give you every assistance you need. You can teach as much Christianity as you please, if only you will teach my son English. If you want a school, I will see that you have pupils." I thanked him for the offer, but could only tell him that I would think the matter over. It might be, after all, only a Siamese cheap compli- ment. It seemed too good to be true. It was, how- ever, directly in the line of my own thoughts. I had come to Siam with the idea of leaving the great com- mercial centres, and making the experiment among a rural population like that of my North Carolina charge. The next day the Pra Palat called on us at our sdld,^ and again broached the subject. He was very anxious to have his son study English. In my mission ^ A public rest-house or shelter, such as Buddhist piety provides everywhere for travellers, but especially in connection with the monasteries. 50 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO work I should be untrammelled. Before leaving us, he mentioned the matter again. It was this time no courteous evasion when I told him I would come if I could. — What did it all mean? I returned to Bangkok full of enthusiasm for Pechaburi. The more I pondered it, the greater the offer seemed to be. Beyond my predilection for a smaller city or for rural work, I actually did not like Bangkok. Pechaburi, however, was beyond the limits of treaty rights. Permission to establish a station there could be had only by sufferance from a govern- ment not hitherto noted for liberality. Here was an invitation equivalent to a royal permit, and with no further red tape about it. I could see only one ob- stacle in the way. The senior member of the mission — the one who was naturally its head — I feared would not approve. And he did, indeed, look askance at the proposition. He doubted whether we could trust the promises made. And then to go so far away alone! But I thought I knew human nature well enough to trust that man. As to being alone, I was willing to risk that. Possibly it might not be best to ride a free horse too freely. I would go with my own equip- ment, and be at least semi-independent; though the Palat had said that he did not mind the expense, if only he could get his son taught English. There could at least be no objection to making an experimental visit, and then continuing it as long as might seem wise. Pechaburi is within thirty hours of Bangkok. If taken sick, I could run over in a day or two. With that understanding, and with the tacit rather than the expressed sanction of the mission, I began to make preparations. At last my preparations were complete, even to BANGKOK 51 baking bread for the trip. I had fitted up a touring- boat of my own, and had engaged captain and boat- men; when, on the day before I was to start, cholera, which for some time had been sporadic in Bangkok, suddenly became epidemic. Till then Dr. James Camp- bell, physician to the British Consulate, and our med- ical authority, thought that with caution and prudence I might safely go. A general panic now arose all over the land. Dr. Bradley came to tell me that deaths were occurring hourly on the canal by which I was to travel. To go then would be to tempt provi- dence. I had earnestly sought direction, and it came in a way little expected. The first man I met next morning was Dr. House, coming home from Mr. Wilson's. He had been called in the night to attend Mrs. Wilson, who had been sud- denly attacked with " the disease," as the natives euphemistically call it, being superstitiously afraid of uttering the name. Dr. House had failed to check it, and sent me to call Dr. Campbell. But he was not at home, and did not get the message till near noon. By that time the patient had reached the stage when collapse was about to ensue. The disease was finally arrested, but Mrs. Wilson was left in a very precari- ous condition. Meanwhile her little daughter Harriet was also taken ill, and for a time the life of both mother and daughter was in suspense. The child lingered on till May 13th, when she was taken to a better clime. On July 14th the mother, too, ceased from her suffering, and entered on her everlasting rest. During these months, of course, all thoughts of Pechaburi had been abandoned; nor would it then have been deemed wise to travel during the wet sea- 52 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO son. Before the next dry season came, Bangkok be- gan to have more attractions, and I had become less ambitious to start a new station alone. On the 11th of September I became engaged to Miss Sophia Royce Bradley, daughter of the Rev. D. B. Bradley, M.D. On December 6th, 1860, we were married. In my wife I found a helpmeet of great executive ability, and admirably qualified for the diversified work before us. It was something, too, to have inherited the best tradi- tions of one of the grand missionaries of his age.^ Samre, our mission station in Bangkok, was four miles distant from the heart of the city. We greatly needed a more central station for our work. Dr. Bradley offered us the use of a house on his own premises — one of the most desirable situations in Bangkok — if we would come and live there. The mis- sion accepted his generous offer. With reluctance I resigned whatever claim I might have to be the pioneer of the new station at Pechaburi. We were settled, as it would seem, for life, in Bangkok. ^Dr. Bradley's life would be the best history we could have of Slam during its transition period. He left a voluminous diary, and it was frona his pen that most of the exact information concerning Siam was long derived. IV PECHABURI— THE CALL OF THE NORTH BY this time the mission generally had become interested in the establishment of a new sta- tion at Pechaburi. Dr. and Mrs. House were designated for the post. The Doctor actually went to Pechaburi ; procured there, through the help of our friend the Palat, a lot with a house on it; and thus committed the mission to the project. But the day before he was to start homeward to prepare for re- moval thither, he was so seriously hurt by a fall from his horse that he was confined to his bed for several months. It was even feared that he was permanently disabled for active life. A new adjustment of our personnel was thus necessitated. Dr. Mattoon had just returned from the United States with the Rev. S. G. McFarland, the Rev. N. A. McDonald, and their wives. Dr. Mattoon could not be spared from Bang- kok, nor was he enthusiastic over the new station. Mr. McDonald had no desire for such experiments. Both Mr. and Mrs. McFarland were anxious to move, but were too new to the field to be sent out alone. They were urgent that we should go with them. My opportunity had come. So, early in June, 1861, we broke up the first home of our married life, and, in company with the McFarlands, moved on to our new home and our new work. Our friend, the Pra Palat, seemed pleased that we 53 54 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO had come, after all. His slight knowledge of English had been learned as a private pupil from Mrs. Mc- Gilvary's own mother. He was glad, whenever he had leisure, to continue his studies with Mrs. McGilvary. Mr. McFarland preferred school work. He took the son that I was to have taught, and left me untram- melled to enter upon evangelistic work. The half -hour after each evening meal we spent in united prayer for guidance and success. Two servants of each family were selected as special subjects of prayer; and these, in due time, we had the pleasure of welcoming into the church. Of the incidents of our Pechaburi life I have room for but a single one. As we were rising from the dinner-table one Sunday shortly after our arrival, we were surprised to see a man coming up the steps and crossing the veranda in haste, as if on a special errand. He led by the hand a little boy of ten or twelve years, and said, " I want to commit this son of mine into your care. I want you to teach him." Struck by his earnest manner, we drew from him these facts : He was a farmer named Nai Kawn, living some five miles out in the country. He had just heard of our arrival, had come immediately, and was very glad to find us. We asked whether he had ever met a missionary be- fore. No, he said, but his father — since dead — had once met Dr. Bradley, and had received a book from him. He had begged other books from neighbours who had received them but did not value them. Neither did he at first, till the great cholera scourge of 1849, when people were dying all around him. He was greatly alarmed, and learned from one of the books that Pra Yesu heard prayer in trouble, and could save from sin. For a long time he prayed for light, until, PECHABURI— THE CALL OF THE NORTH 55 about three years ago, he believed in Jesns, and was now happy in heart. He had heard once of Dr. Bradley's coming to Pechaburi, but not until he was gone again. He preached to his neighbours, who called him " Kon Pra Yesti" (Lord Jesus' man). He had prayed for Dr. Bradley and the missionaries; he had read the story of Moses, the Epistle to the Romans, the Gospel of John, a tract on Prayer, and " The Golden Bal- ance"; and he believed them. He could repeat por- tions of Romans and John verbatim ; and he had his son repeat the Lord's Prayer. My subject at the afternoon service was Nicodemus and the New Birth. Nai Kawn sat spellbound, fre- quently nodding assent. At the close we asked him to speak a few words; which he did with great clear- ness. On being questioned as to the Trinity, he replied that he was not sure whether he understood it. He gathered, however, that Jehovah was the Father and Ruler; that the Son came to save us by dying for us; and that the Holy Spirit is the Comforter. The differ- ence between Jesus and Buddha is that the latter en- tered into Nirvana, and that was the last of him; while Jesus lives to save. He even insisted that he had seen a vision of Jesus in heaven. His other ex- periences were characterized by such marks of sober- ness that we wondered whether his faith might not have been strengthened by a dream or a vision. This incident, coming so soon after our arrival, greatly cheered us in our work. His subsequent story is too long to follow out in detail here. His piety and his sincerity were undoubted. He lived and died a Christian; yet he never fully identified himself with the church. He insisted that he had been baptized by the Holy Ghost, and that there was no need of further 56 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO baptism. Not long after this Dr. Bradley and Mr. Mattoon visited Pechaburi, examined the man, and were equally surprised at his history. What changed our life-work from the Siamese to the Lao? There were two principal causes. The vari- ous Lao states which are now a part of Siam, were then ruled by feudal princes, each virtually sovereign within his own dominions, but all required to pay a triennial visit to the Siamese capital, bringing the customary gifts to their suzerain, the King of Siam, and renewing their oath of allegiance to him. Their realms served, moreover, as a " buffer " between Siam and Burma. There were six of these feudal principal- ities. Five of them occupied the basins of five chief tributaries of the Menam River; namely — in order from west to east — Chiengmai, LampQn, Lakawn, Pr^, and Nan. The sixth was LQang Prabang on the MS Kong River. The rapids on all these streams had served as an effectual barrier in keeping the northern and the southern states quite separate. There was no very frequent communication in trade. There was no mail communication. Official despatches were passed along from one governor to the next. Very little was known in Bangkok about the Lao provinces of the north. A trip from Bangkok to Chiengmai seemed then like going out of the world. Only one Englishman, Sir Robert Schomburgk of the British Consulate in Bangkok, had ever made it. Of these Lao states, Chiengmai was the most im- portant. After it came Nan, then Liiang Prabang (since ceded to the French), Lakawn, PrS, and Lam- pun. The Lao people were regarded in Siam as a very warlike race; one chieftain in particular being famed 1 ^^ 1 ■ir 1 ■ mm - mum , PECHABURI— THE CALL OF THE NORTH 57 as a great warrior. They were withal said to be sus- picious and unreliable. Almost the only visible result of my six months' stay within the city of Bangkok, after my marriage, was the formation of a slight acquaintance with the Prince of Chiengmai and his family. Just before my mar- riage he had arrived in Bangkok with a great flotilla of boats and a great retinue of attendants. The grounds of Wat Cheng monastery, near to Dr. Brad- ley's compound, had always been their stopping-place. The consequence was that, of all the missionaries. Dr. Bradley had become best acquainted with them and most deeply interested in them. He earnestly cul- tivated their friendship, invited them to his printing- office and to his house, and continually preached unto them the Gospel. They were much interested in vac- cination, which he had introduced, and were delighted to find that it protected them from smallpox. The day after our marriage, in response to a present of some wedding cake, the Prince himself, with his two daughters and a large train of attendants, called on us in our new home. This was my first introduction to Chao Kawilorot and his family, who were to play so important a role in my future life. All that I saw of him and of his people interested me greatly. Dur- ing the short time we remained in their neighbourhood, I made frequent visits to the Lao camp. The subject of a mission in Chiengmai was talked of, with apparent approval on the part of the Prince. My interest in Pechaburi was increased by the knowledge that there was a large colony of Lao * there. These were cap- ^ The application of this name is by no means uniform throughout the peninsula. From Luang Prabang soiithward along the eastern frontier, the tribes of that stock call themselves Lao, and are so 58 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO tives of war from the region of Khorat, bearing no very close resemblance to our later parishioners in the north. At the time of our stay in Pechaburi, the Lao in that province were held as government slaves, engaged all day on various public works — a circum- stance which greatly impeded our access to them, and at the same time made it more difficult for them to em- brace Christianity. Neither they nor we dared apply to the government for the requisite sanction, lest thereby their case be made worse. Our best oppor- tunity for work among them was at night. My most pleasant memories of Pechaburi cluster about scenes in Lao villages, when the whole population would as- semble, either around a camp-fire or under the bright light of the moon, to listen till late in the night to the word of God. The conversion of Nai Ang, the first one from that colony, anticipated that of Nan Inta, and the larger ingathering in the North. But there was more than a casual connection be- tween the two. My labours among them increased the desire, already awakened in me, to reach the home of the race. Here was another link in the chain of providences by which I was led to my life-work. The time, however, was not yet ripe. The available force of the mission was not yet large enough to justify further expansion. Moreover, our knowledge of the called by tlieir neighbours. But the central and western groups do not acknowledge the name as theirs at all, but call themselves simply Tai; or if a distinction must be made, they call themselves Kon NQa (Northerners), and the Siamese, Kon Tai (Southerners). The Sia- mese, on the other hand, also call themselves Tai, which is really the race-name, common to all branches of the stock; and they apply the name Lao alike to all their northern cousins except the Ngio. or Western Shaus. Nothing is known of the origin of the name, but the same root no doubt appears in such tribal and geographical names as Lawa, Lawa, Lawo— the last being the name of the famous abandoned capital now known as Lophburi. — Ed. PECHABURl— THE CALL OF THE NORTH 59 Lao country was not such as to make possible any comprehensive and intelligent plans for a mission there. The first thing to do was evidently to make a tour of exploration. The way to such a tour was opened in the fall of 1863. The Presbytery of Siam met in Bangkok early in November. I had so ar- ranged my affairs that, if the way should open, I could go north directly, without returning to Pechaburi. I knew that Mr. Wilson was free, and I thought he would favour the trip. This he readily did, and the mission gave its sanction. So I committed my wife and our two-year-old daughter to the care of loving grandparents, and, after a very hasty preparation, we started on the 20th of November in search of far- away Chiengmai. The six-oared touring-boat which I had fitted up in my bachelor days was well adapted for our purpose as far as the first fork of the Menam. The Siamese are experts with the oar, but are unused to the setting- pole, which is well-nigh the only resource all through the upper reaches of the river. It was sunset on a Fri- day evening before we finally got off. But it was a start; and it proved to be one of the straws on which the success of the trip depended. The current against us was very strong; so we slept within the city limits • that night. We spent all day Saturday traversing a canal parallel with the river, where the current was weaker. It was sunset before we entered again the main stream, and stopped to spend Sunday at a monas- tery. To our great surprise we found that the Prince of Chiengmai— of whose coming we had had no intima- tion—had camped there the night before, and had passed on down to Bangkok that very morning. We had missed him by taking the canal ! 60 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO We were in doubt whether we ought not to return and get a letter from him. A favourable letter would be invaluable; but he might refuse, or even forbid our going. If we may judge from what we afterwards knew of his suspicious nature, such probably would have been the outcome. At any rate, it would delay us; and we had already a passport from the Siamese government which would ensure our trip. And, doubt- less, we did accomplish our design with more freedom because of the Prince's absence from his realm. It was apparently a fortuitous thing that our men knew of the more sluggish channel, and so missed the Lao flotilla. But it is quite possible that upon that choice depended the establishment of the Lao mission. All went well until we reached the first fork at Pak- nam Po. There the water came rushing down like a torrent, so swift that oars were of no avail. We tried first one side of the stream and then the other, but all in vain. Our boatmen exchanged their oars for poles. But they were awkward and unaccustomed to their use. The boat would inevitably drift down stream. The poor boatmen laughed despairingly at their own failure. At last a rope was suggested. The men climbed the bank, and dragged the boat around the point to where the current was less swift. But when, as often happened, it became necessary to cross to the other side of the river, the first push off the bank would send us into water so deep that a fifteen- foot pole could not reach bottom. Away would go the boat some hundreds of yards down stream before we could bring up on the opposite bank. We reached Raheng, however, in nineteen travelling days — which was not by any means bad time. In our various journeyings hitherto we had con- PECHABURI— THE CALL OF THE NORTH 61 trolled our own means of transportation. Hence- forth we were at the mercy of native officials, to whose temperament such things as punctuality and speed are altogether alien. From Raheng the trip by ele- phant to Chiengmai should be only twelve days. By boat, the trip would be much longer, though the re- turn trip would be correspondingly shorter. We had a letter from Bangkok to the officials along the route, directing them to procure for us boats, elephants, or men, as we might need. We were in a hurry, and, besides, were young and impulsive. The officials at Raheng assured us that we should have prompt despatch. No one, however, seemed to make any ef- fort to send us on. The governor was a great Buddhist, and fond of company and argument. He could match our Trinity by a Buddhist one: Puttho, Thammo, Sangkho — Buddha, the Scriptures, the Brotherhood. Men's own good deeds were their only atonement. The one religion was as good as the other. On these subjects he would talk by the hour; but when urged to get our elephants, he always had an excuse. At last, in despair, we decided to take our boatmen and walk. When this news reached the governor, whether from pity of us, or from fear that some trouble might grow out of it, he sent word that if we would wait till the next day, we should have the elephants without fail. We got the elephants ; but, as it was, from preference I walked most of the way. Once I paid dear for my walk by getting separated from my elephant in the morning, losing my noonday lunch, and not regaining my party till, tired and hungry, I reached camp at night. Our guide had taken a circuitous route to avoid a band of robbers on the main route which I 62 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO had followed! This was my first experience of ele- phant-riding. We crossed rivers where the banks were steep, and there was no regular landing. But whether ascending or descending steep slopes, whether skirting streams and waterfalls, one may trust the elephant's sagacity and surefootedness. The view we had from one of the mountain ridges seemed incomparably fine. The Me Ping wound its way along the base beneath us, while beyond, to right and to left, rose range be- yond range, with an occasional peak towering high above the rest. But that was tame in comparison with many mountain views encountered in subsequent years. We were eight days in reaching Lakawn/ which we marked as one of our future mission stations. On being asked whether he would welcome a mission there, the governor replied, " If the King of Siam and the Prince of Chiengmai approve." At Lakawn we had no delay, stopping there only from Friday till Monday morning. Thence to Lampun we found salas, or rest-houses, at regular intervals. The watershed between these towns was the highest we had crossed. The road follows the valley of a stream to near the summit, and then follows another stream down on the other side. The gorge was in places so narrow that the elephant-saddle scraped the mountain wall on one side, while on the other a misstep would have precip- itated us far down to the brook-bed below. ^A corruption of Nakawn (for Sanskrit nagara, capital city), ■which is the first part of the official name of the place, Nakawn Lampang. The Post Office calls it Lampang, to distinguish it from another Nakawn (likewise Lakawn in common speech), in the Malay Peninsula — the place known to Europeans as Ligor. The general currency of this sliort name, and its regular use in all the missionary literature, seem to justify its retention in this narrative. — Ed. PECHABURl— THE CALL OF THE NORTH 63 At Lampun my companion was not well, so that I alone called on the authorities. The governor had called the princes together to learn our errand. They seemed bewildered when told that we had no govern- ment business, nor were we traders — were only teach- ers of religion. When the proper officer was directed to send us on quickly, he began to make excuses that it would take two or three days. Turning sharply upon him, the governor asked, " Praya Sanam, how many elephants have you?" "Four," was the re- sponse. " See that they get off to-morrow," was the short reply. He meekly withdrew. There was evi- dently no trifling with that governor. One day more brought us to Chiengmai — to the end of what seemed then a very long journey. As we neared the city, Mr. Wilson's elephant took fright at the creaking noise of a water-wheel, and ran away, crashing through bamboo fences and trampling down gardens. For- tunately no one was hurt. We reached the city on January 7th, 18G4, on the forty-ninth day of our journey. The nephew of the Prince had been left in charge during the Prince's absence. He evidently was in doubt how to receive us. He could not ignore our passport and letter from Bangkok. On the other hand, why did we not have a letter from the Prince? Our story of missing him through choosing the canal instead of the main river might or might not be true. If the deputy were too hospitable, his Prince might blame him. So he cut the knot, and went off to his fields. We saw no more of him till he came in to see us safely off. The elder daughter of the Prince had accompanied her father to Bangkok, but the younger daughter was at home. She was a person of great influence, and 64 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO was by nature hospitable. Things could not have been better planned for our purpose. The princess remembered me and my wife from her call on us after our wedding. She now called on us in person with her retinue; after that everybody else was free to call. It is not unlikely that that previous acquaint- ance redeemed our trip from being a failure. Our sala was usually crowded with visitors. We had an ideal opportunity of seeing the heart of the people. They lacked a certain external refinement seen among the Siamese; but they seemed sincere and more re- ligious. Buddhism had not become so much a mat- ter of form. Many of the older people then spent a day and a night, or even two days, each month fast- ing in the monasteries. There was hope that if such people saw a better way, they would accept it. One officer, who lived just behind our sala, a great merit- maker, was a constant visitor. Years afterward we had the pleasure of welcoming him to the communion of the church. From every point of view the tour was eminently successful. Many thousands heard the Gospel for the first time. In our main quest we were more than suc- cessful. We were delighted with the country, the cities, the people. Every place we came to we men- tally took possession of for our Lord and Master. In Chiengmai we remained only ten days; but one day would have sufficed to convince us. I, at least, left it with the joyful hope of its becoming the field of my life-work. From the first we had planned to return by the river through the rapids. But the prince in charge was very averse to our going by that route. We knew that the route positively made no difference to PEGHABURI— THE CALL OF THE NORTH 65 him personally. He had only to give the word, and either elephants or boats would be forthcoming. Was he afraid of our spying out the road into the country? At last we were obliged to insist on the wording of our letter, which specially mentioned boats. Then he offered us one so small that he probably thought we would refuse it. But we took it; and our captain afterwards exchanged it for a larger one. We made a swift passage through the famous rapids, and reached Bangkok on January 30th, 1864. The first news that we heard on our arrival was that Mrs. Mattoon was obliged to leave at once for the United States, and that Mr. Wilson was to take his furlough at the same time. This, of course, ended all plans for any immediate removal to Chiengmai. We hastened to Pechaburi, where the McFarlands had been alone during our absence. Three years were to pass before our faces were again turned northward. V THE CHARTER OF THE LAO MISSION IN the meantime, with two children added unto us, we were become a family much more difficult to move. We liked our home and our work. At the age of thirty-nine, to strike out into a new work, in a language at least partly new, was a matter not to be lightly undertaken. Might it not be better that Mr. Wilson should work up in the United States an interest in the new mission, should himself select his associates in it, and that I should give up my claim to that place? It was certain that three families could not be spared for Chiengmai. More than one day was spent, under the shade of a great tree behind Wat Noi, in thought on the subject, and in prayer for direc- tion. Finally — though it was a hard thing to do — I wrote to Mr. Wilson, then in the United States, suggesting the plan just stated. Feeling sure that it would commend itself to him, I considered the door to Chiengmai as probably closed to me. In the mean- time Mr. Wilson had married again; and on the eve of his return wrote to me that he had failed to get another family to come out with him, and was dis- couraged about the Chiengmai mission. Probably the time had not yet come, etc., etc. I was delighted to get that letter. It decided me to go to Chiengmai, the Lord willing, the following dry season, with only 66 THE CHARTER OF THE LAO MISSION 67 my own family, if need be. Dr. Mattoon and Dr. House were absent on furlough. Mr. Wilson and I would be the senior members of the mission. The Board had already given its sanction. The mission in Bangkok meanwhile had been reinforced by the arrival of the Georges and the Gardens. On the return of those then absent on furlough, one of these families could join the McFarlands in PechaburT, and jet there would be four families in Bangkok. Such a combina- tion of favourable circumstances might not occur again. When Mr. Wilson arrived in Bangkok in the fall of 18G6, a letter was waiting for him, asking him to visit us in Pechaburi to talk over the question. On his arrival we spent one Sunday in anxious consultation. He was still eager to go to Ghiengmai, but could not go that year. His preference would be that we should wait another year.— But that might be to lose the op- portunity. So next morning, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Wilson to visit with my family, I hurried over to Bangkok. There was no time to be lost. The Prince of Ghiengmai had been called down on special busi- ness, and was soon to return. The whole plan might depend on him— as, in fact, it did. It was after dark on Tuesday night when I reached Dr. Bradley's, taking them all by surprise. I made known my errand. Another long and anxious con- sultation followed. I knew that Dr. Bradley's great missionary soul would not be staggered by any per- sonal considerations. It would be but the answer to his own prayers to see a mission planted in Ghiengmai. In his heart he was glad that it was to be planted by one of his own family. Earnest prayer was offered that night at the family altar for guidance in the 68 • AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO negotiations of the following day, and for a blessing on the mission that was to be. On Wednesday, after an early breakfast. Dr. Brad- ley accompanied me to our mission. My colleagues, McDonald, George, and Garden, were easily induced to consent. Mr. McDonald said that he would not go himself; but if I were willing to risk my family, he would not oppose the scheme, and would vote to have Mr. Wilson follow me the next year. Thus another obstacle was removed. Taking Mr. McDonald and Mr. George with us, we proceeded next to the United States Consulate, where Mr. Hood readily agreed to give his official and per- sonal aid. The two greatest obstacles remained jet: the Siamese government and — as it turned out in the end — the Lao Prince ^ also. The Consul wrote im- mediately to the King, through our former Pechaburi friend, who had recently been made Foreign Minister, a formal request for permission to open a station in Chiengmai. It was Friday evening when the reply ^The Lao ruler was a feudal vassal of the King of Slam, governing an important frontier province, and granted, within that province, some of the powers which are usually thought of as belonging to sovereignty — notably the power of life and death in the case of his immediate subjects. His title, Pra Chao, like its English parallel, Lord, he shared with the deity as well as with kings; though the Kings of Siam claim the added designation, "Tu Huu," "at the head," or " Sovereign." By the early missionaries, however, he was regularly styled " King," a term which to us misrepresents his real status, and which leads to much confusion both of personality and of function. Meantime both title and function have vanished with the feudal order of which they were a part, leaving us free to seek for our narrative a less misleading term. Such a term seems to be the word Prince, thus defined in Murray's Dictionary (s. v. II. 5):— "The ruler of a principality or small state, actually, nominally, or originally, a feudatory of a king or emperor." The capital initial should suffice generally to distinguish the Prince who is ruler from princes who are such merely by accident of birth. — Ed. THE CHARTER OF THE LAO MISSION G9 came that the decision did not rest with the King. He could not force a mission upon the Lao people. But the Lao Prince was then in Bangkok. If he gave his consent, the Siamese government would give theirs. He suggested that we have an audience with the Prince, at which His Majesty would have an officer in attendance to report directly to him. So on Saturday morning at ten o'clock we all ap- peared at the landing where the Lao boats were moored, asking for an audience with the Prince. We were invited to await him in the sala at the river landing. In a few moments His Highness came up in his customary informal attire— a pJidnung about his loins, no jacket, a scarf thrown loosely over his shoul- ders, and a little cane in his hand. Having shaken hands with us, he seated himself in his favourite at- titude, dangling his right leg over his left knee. He asked our errand. At Mr. Hood's request Dr. Brad- ley explained our desire to establish a mission sta- tion in Chiengmai, and our hope to secure his ap- proval. The Prince seemed relieved to find that our errand involved nothing more serious than that. The mission station was no new question suddenly sprung upon him. We had more than once spoken with him about it, and always apparently with his approbation. To all our requests he now gave ready assent. Yes, we might establish ourselves in Chiengmai. Land was cheap; we need not even buy it. Timber was cheap. There would be, of course, the cost of cutting and hauling it; but not much more. We could build our houses of brick or of wood, as we pleased. It was ex- plained, as he already knew, that our object was to teach religion, to establish schools, and to care for the sick. The King's secretary took down the replies of 70 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the Prince to our questions. The Consul expressed his gratitude, and committed my family to his gracious care. We were to follow the Prince to Chiengmai as soon as possible. Such was the outward scene and circumstance of the official birth of the Lao mission. In itself it was ludicrous enough : the audience chamber, a sala- landing under the shadow of a Buddhist monastery; the Consul in his official uniform; the Prince en desliahille; our little group awaiting the answer on which depended the royal signature of Somdet Phra Paramendr Maha Mongkut authorizing the establish- ment of a Christian mission. The answer was, Yes. I was myself amazed at the success of the week's work. On the part both of the Siamese government and of the Lao Prince, it was an act of grace hardly to be expected, though quite in keeping with the lib- erality of the truly great king who opened his country to civilization and to Christianity. And the Lao Prince, with all his faults, had some noble and gener- ous traits of character. Later in the day I called alone to tell the Prince that as soon as I could after the close of the rainy season, I would come with my family. After the in- tense excitement of the week, I spent a quiet Sabbath in Dr. Bradley's family, and on Monday morning could say, as did Abraham's servant, " Hinder me not, seeing the Lord hath prospered me." Taking the afternoon tide, I hastened home to report the success of my trip, to close my work in Pechaburi, and to make prepara- tion for a new station, which was soon to be a new mission. The work in hand was easily turned over to Mr. Mc- Farland, an earnest and successful worker, who had THE CHARTER OF THE LAO MISSION 71 become specially gifted in the Siamese language. The Presbytery was to meet in Bangkok in November. The last busy weeks passed rapidly away. At their end we bade good-bye to our home and friends in Pechaburi. Friends in Bangkok gave us their hearty assistance. The Ladies' Sewing Society made a liberal contribu- tion to the new mission. Dr. James Campbell sup- plied us with medicines and a book of instructions how to use them. The German Consul gave us a Prussian rifle for our personal protection. All our missionary friends added their good wishes and their prayers. We had great difficulty in securing suitable boats and crews for the journey. On January 3d, 18G7, we embarked, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Wilson to follow us the next year. Mr. George accompanied us as far as Rah^ng. The trip is always a slow one, but we en- joyed it. My rifle was useful in securing pelicans and other large birds for food. Once I fired into a large flock of pelicans on the river and killed three with a single shot. Fish everywhere abounded. My shotgun furnished pigeons and other small game. The trip afl:orded fine opportunity for evangelistic work. Nothing of the sort had ever been done there save the little which Mr. Wilson and I had attempted on our earlier trip. Raheng was reached in four weeks. There we dis- missed the boats that had brought us from Bangkok, and procured, instead, two large ones of the sort used in up-country travel. We should have done better with three of smaller size. We spent nearly a month in toiling up the thirty-two rapids. At one of them we were delayed from Friday noon till Tuesday after- noon. At another, to avoid the furious current of the main river, we attempted a small channel at one 72 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO side. As we slowly worked our way along, the water in our channel became shallower and shallower, till we had to resort to a system of extemporized locks. A temporary dam was built behind the boat. The re- sulting slight rise of water would enable us to drag the boat a little further, till again it was stranded — when the process would have to be repeated. After two days of hard work at this, our boatmen gave up in despair. A Chiengmai prince on his way to Bang- kok found us in this extremity, and gave us an order to secure help at the nearest village. To send the letter up and to bring the boatmen down would re- quire nearly a week. But there was nothing else to do. My rifle helped me somewhat to while away the time of this idle waiting. We could hear tigers about us every night. I used to skirt about among the moun- tain ridges and brooks, half hoping to shoot one of them. Since my rifle was not a repeater, it was no doubt best that my ambition was not gratified. Once, taking a Siamese lad with me, I strayed further and returned later than usual. It was nearly dark when we got back to the boats, and supper was waiting. Before we had finished our meal, the boatmen caught sight of the glowing eyes of a tiger that had followed our trail to the further bank of the river, whence we had crossed to our boat. One of the boat captains professed to be able to call up either deer or tiger, if one were within hearing. By doubling a leaf together, and with thumb and finger on either side holding the two edges tense between his lips while he blew, he would produce a sound so nearly resembling the cry of a young goat or deer, that a doe within reach of the call, he claimed, would run to the rescue of her young, or a tiger, hearing it, would run THE CHARTER OF THE LAO MISSION 73 to secure the prey. The two captains and I one day went up on a ridge, and, selecting an open triangular space, posted ourselves back to back, facing in three directions, with our guns in readiness. The captain had sounded his call only two or three times, when suddenly a large deer rushed furiously up from the direction toward which one of the captains was facing. A fallen log was lying about twenty paces off on the edge of our open space. The excited animal stopped behind it, his lower parts concealed, but with back, shoulder, neck, and head fully exposed. Our captain fired away, but was so excited that he would have missed an elephant. His bullet entered the log some six inches below the top. In an instant the deer was gone. We found not far off the spot where evidently a young deer had been devoured by a tiger. We tried the experiment a number of times later, but with no success. After we had waited two days and nights for help from the village above, on the third night the spirits came to our rescue. Either with their ears or in their imaginations, our crew heard strange noises in the rocks and trees about them, which they interpreted as a warning from the spirits to be gone. Next morn- ing, after consultation together, they made another desperate effort, and got the boats off. It was still several days before we met the men that came down in response to the prince's order. But some of the worst rapids were yet before us. We could hardly have got through without their aid. The efforts of a single crew, it must be remembered, are utterly inadequate to bring a boat up through any of these rapids. Only by combining two or three crews can the boats be brought up one by one. Some 74 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO of the men are on tlie bank, tugging at the tow-rope while they clamber over rocks and struggle through bushes. Some are on board, bending to their poles. Others are up to their waists in the rushing water, by main force fending off the boat from being dashed against the rocks. On one occasion I myself had made the passage in the first boat, which then was left moored in quieter waters. The crew went back to bring up the second boat, in which were my wife and children. With anxious eyes I was watching the struggle; when, suddenly, in the fiercest rush of the current, the men lost control of her. Boat and passengers were drifting with full force straight against a wall of solid rock on the opposite bank. It seemed as if nothing could save them. But one of the fleetest boatmen, with rope in hand, swam to a rock in midstream, and took a turn of the rope about it, just in time to prevent what would have been a tragedy. At night, about camp-fires on the river bank, we were regaled by the boatmen with legends of the country through which we were passing. One of these legends concerned the lofty mountain which rises above the rapid called Keng Soi, where we were camped. The story was that on its summit there had been in ancient times a city of setts (millionaires), Avho paid a gold fuang (two dollars) a bucket for all the water brought up for their use. It was said that remains of their city, and particularly an aged cocoanut tree, were still to be seen on the summit. Since it would take our boatmen at least two days to surmount that rapid, I resolved to attempt the ascent, and either verify or explode the story. Start- ing at early dawn with my young Siamese, zigzagging THE CHARTER OF THE LAO MISSION 75 back and forth on the slope all that long forenoon, I struggled upward — often despairing of success, but ashamed to turn back. At last we stood on the top, but it was noon or later. We spent two or three hours in search of the cocoanut tree or other evidence of human settlement, but all in vain. I was satisfied that we were the first of human kind that had ever set foot on that lofty summit. We had brought lunch — but no water! Most willingly would we have given a silver fuang for a draught. The legend of the rapids themselves was one of the most interesting. At the edge of the plain above the rapids there is pointed out a wall of rock dropping fully a hundred feet sheer to the water's edge. The story goes that in ancient times a youth made love to the Prince's daughter. The course of true love did not run smooth ; the father forbade the suit. The lov- ers resolved to make their escape. The young man mounted his steed with his bride behind him, and together they fled. But soon the enraged father was in hot pursuit. They reached the river-brink at the top of the precipice, with the father in plain sight be- hind them. But there the lover's heart failed him. He could not take that leap. The maiden then begged to exchange places with her lover. She mounted in front; tied her scarf over her eyes; put spurs to the horse; and took the fatal leap. To this day the vari- ous rapids are mostly named from various portions of the equipage which are supposed to have drifted down the stream and lodged upon the rocks. Lao witchcraft was another favourite theme of our Raheng boatmen. They were very much afraid of the magical powers of wizards; and evidently believed that the wizards could readily despatch any who of- 76 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO fended them. They could insert a mass of rawhide into one's stomach, which would produce death, and which could not be consumed by fire when the body was cremated. They could make themselves invisible and invulnerable. No sword could penetrate their flesh, and a bullet fired at them would drop harmless from the mouth of the gun. But we have lingered too long among the rapids. Some distance above the last one the mountains on either side recede from the river, and enclose the great plain of Chiengmai and Lampun. Both passengers and boatmen draw a long breath of relief when it opens out. The glorious sun again shines all day. The feathery plumes of the graceful bamboo clumps are a delight to the eye, and give variety to the other- wise tame scenery. But the distant mountains are always in sight. The season was advancing. The further we went, the shallower grew the stream. Long before we reached Chiengmai, we had to use canoes to lighten our boats; but presently a seasonable rise in the river came to our aid. On Saturday evening, April 1st, 1867, we moored our boats beside a mighty banyan tree, whose spreading arms shaded a space more than a hundred feet wide. It stands opposite the large island which forty years later the government turned over to Dr. McKean of our mission for a leper asylum. Stepping out a few paces from under its shade, one could see across the fields the pagoda-spires of Chieng- mai. There, prayerfully and anxiously, we spent the thirteenth and last Sunday of our long journey, not knowing what the future might have in store for us. A REST BETWEEN RAPIDS IN THE GORGE OF THE ME PING RIVER POLING UP THE ME PING RIVER VI CHIENGMAI ON Monday morning, April 3d, 1867, we reached the city. We had looked forward to the ar- rival as a welcome rest after the long confine- ment of our journey in the boat. But it was only the beginning of troubles. We were not coming to an established station with houses and comforts pre- pared by predecessors. The Prince was off on a mili- tary expedition, not to be back for over a month. Till he came, nothing could be done. We could not secure a house to shelter us, for there was none to be had. Just outside the eastern gate of the city, how- ever, a sala for public use had recently been built by an oflScer from Raheng, to " make merit," according to Buddhist custom. He had still a quasi claim upon it, and, with the consent of the Prince's representative, he offered it to us. It was well built, with tile roof and teak floor, was enclosed on three sides, and opened in front on a six-foot veranda. In that one room, some twelve feet by twenty, all our belongings were stored. It served for bedroom, parlour, dining-room, and study. In it tables, chairs, bedstead, organ, boxes, and trunks were all piled one upon another. A bamboo kitchen and a bathroom were presently extemporized in the yard. That was our home for more than a year. The news of the arrival of white foreigners soon spread far and wide. It was not known how long they 77 78 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO would remaiD ; and the eagerness of all classes to get sight of them before they should be gone was ab- solutely ludicrous, even when most annoying, " There is a white woman and children ! We must go and see them." Our visitors claimed all the immunities of backwoodsmen who know no better. In etiquette and manners they well deserved that name. Within a few feet of the sala was a rickety plank-walk leading over marshy ground to the city. Everybody had to pass that way, and everybody must stop. When the ve- randa was filled, they would crowd up on the ground in front as long as they could get sight of anybody or anything. If to-day the crowd prevented a good view, they would call to-morrow. The favourite time of all was, of course, our meal-time, to see how and what the foreigners ate. Almost never in the daytime could we sit down to a quiet meal without lookers-on. It was not uncommon for our visitors to pick up a knife or a fork or even the bread, and ask what that was. " They don't sit on the floor to eat, nor use their fingers, as we do ! " This, however, is only one side of the picture. In one sense we were partly to blame for our discom- fort. We could soon have dispersed the crowd by giving them to understand that their presence was not wanted. But we ourselves were on trial. If we had got the name of being ill-natured or ungracious, they would have left us, probably never to return. No. This was what we were there for. It gave us con- stant opportunities from daylight till dark to pro- claim the Gospel message. The first and commonest question, who we were and what was our errand, brought us at once to the point. We were come with messages of mercy and with offer of eternal life from CHIENGMAI 79 the great God and Saviour. We were come with a revelation of our Heavenly Father to His wandering and lost children. While the mass of our visitors came from curiosity, some came to learn; and many who came from curiosity went away pondering whether these things were so. Friendships also were formed which stood us in good stead afterwards when we sorely needed friends. During our time of persecu- tion these persons would come in by stealth to speak a word of comfort, when they dared not do so openly. As the annoyance of those days fell most heavily on the nerves of my wife, it was a comfort to learn afterwards that possibly the very first convert heard the Gospel message first from her lips, while she was addressing a crowd of visitors very soon after our ar- rival. Reference will be made to him later, but it may be said here that from the day when he first heard the news, he never again worshipped an idol. Whatever was their object in coming to see us, we soon gave every crowd, and nearly every visitor, to understand what we had come for. We had come as teachers — primarily as teachers of a way of salvation for sinners. And we never addressed a crowd of thoughtfiil men or women who did not readily confess that they were sinners, and needed a saviour from sin. But we were not merely teachers of religion, though primarily such. We could often, if not usually, better teach religion — or, at least, could better lead up to it — by teaching geography or astronomy. A little globe that I had brought along was often my text. I presume that most Christian people in America have a very crude idea of the method of preaching the Gospel often, or, perhaps, generally, used by mission- aries, i)articularly in new fields. If they think that 80 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the bell is rung, that the people assemble in orderly fashion, and take their seats, that a hymn is sung, prayer offered, the Scripture read, a sermon delivered, and the congregation dismissed with the doxology and benediction, — they are very much mistaken. All that comes in time. We have lived to see it come in this land — thanks to God's blessing upon work much more desultory than that. Long after the time we are now speaking of, one could talk of religion to the people by the hour, or even by the day; one might sing hymns, might solemnly utter prayer, in response to inquiry as to how we worshipped — and they would listen respect- fully and with interest. But if public worship had been announced, and these same people had been in- vited to remain, every soul would have fled away for fear of being caught in some trap and made Christians without their consent, or for fear of being made to suffer the consequences of being reputed Christians be- fore they were ready to take that step. Forty years later than the time we are now speaking of, I have seen people who were standing about the church door and looking in, driven quite away by the mere in- vitation to come in and be seated. In one sense our work during the first year was very desultory. I had always to shape my instruction to the individuals before me. It would often be in an- swer to questions as to where was our country ; in what direction; how one would travel to get there; could one go there on foot; and so on. Or the question might be as to the manners and customs of our na- tion; or it might be directly on religion itself. But as all roads lead to Rome, so all subjects may be turned to Christ, His cross, and His salvation. Of the friends found in those early days I must GHIENGMAI 81 mention two. One was Princess Bua Kam, the mother of the late and last Lao Prince, Chao Intanon. At our first acquaintance, she formed for us a warm friendship that lasted till her death. Nor could I ever discover any other ground for her friendship than the fact that we were religious teachers. She was herself a devout Buddhist, and continued to the last her of- ferings in the monasteries. I believe that the Gospel plan of salvation struck a chord in her heart which her own religion never did. From Buddha she got no assurance of pardon. The assurance that pardon is possible in itself seemed to give her hope, though by what process a logical mind could hardly see, so long as she held on to a system which, as she confessed, did not and could not give pardon. She was always pleased to hear the story of the incarnation, the birth, life, and miracles of Christ. She was deeply touched by the recital of His sufferings, persecutions, and death. Illustrations of the substitutionary efficacy of His suf- ferings she readily understood. She acknowledged her god to be a man who, by the well-nigh endless road to nirvana, had ceased to suffer by ceasing to exist. The only claim he had to warrant his pointing out the way to others was the fact that he had passed over it him- self. There was one ground, however, on which she felt that she might claim the comfort both of the doctrines which she still held and of ours, too. A favourite theory of hers — and of many others — was that, after all, we worship the same God under dif- ferent names. She called hers Buddha, and we call ours Jehovah-Jesus. She had by nature a woman's tender heart. Benev- olence had doubtless been developed in her by her re- ligion, till it had become a second nature. The gifts 82 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO she loved to make were also a means of lajing up a store of merit for the future. She was most liberal in sending us tokens of remembrance. These were not of much value. A quart of white rice, a few oranges, cucumbers, or cocoanuts on a silver tray, were so cus- tomary a sight that, if ever any length of time elapsed without them, we wondered if the Princess were ill. And, on the other hand, if for any cause my calls were far apart, she would be sure to send to enquire if I were ill. The " cup of cold water " which she thus so often pressed to our lips, I am sure, was given for the Master's sake. Another remarkable friendship formed during that first year was that of a Buddhist monk, abbot of the Umong monastery. As in the other case, there was no favour to ask, no axe to grind. He never made a re- quest for anything, unless it were for a book. But the little novice who attended him almost always brought a cocoanut or some other small present for us. Very early in our acquaintance he came to see that the uni- verse could not be self-existent, as Buddhism teaches. On his deeply religious nature the sense of sin weighed heavily. He was well versed in the Buddhist scrip- tures, and knew that there was no place for pardon in all that system. He understood the plan of salvation ofifered to men through the infinite merit of Jesus Christ. At times he would argue that it was impos- sible. But the thought that, after all, it might be possible, afforded him a gleam of hope that he saw nowhere else; and he was not willing to renounce it altogether. During the dark months that followed the martyr- dom of our native Christians, when many who were true friends deemed it unwise to let their sympathy CHIENGMAI 83 be known, the good abbot visited us regularly, as, in- deed, he continued to do as long as he lived. At times I had strong hopes that he would leave the priesthood. But he never could quite see his way to do that, though he maintained that he never ceased to worship Jesus. The only likeness, alas ! that I have of his dear old face is a photograph taken after death, as his body lay ready for cremation. Unto whom, if not unto such true friends of His as these, was it said, " I was a hungered, and ye gave Me meat; I was thirsty, and ye gave Me drink; I was in prison, and ye visited Me. — Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these My brethren, ye have done it unto Me " ? VII PIONEER WORK THE military expedition in which the Prince was engaged detained him in the field until some time in May. It was one of many unsuccessful attempts to capture a notorious Ngio chieftain who, turning outlaw and robber, had gathered about him a band of desperadoes, with whom he sallied forth from his mountain fastness, raiding innocent villages and carrying off the plunder to his stronghold, before any force could be gathered to withstand or to pursue him. In this way he kept the whole country in constant alarm during the earlier years of our stay in Chieng- mai. What made matters worse was the fact — as the Lao firmly believed — that he had a charmed life, that he could render himself invisible, and that no weapon could penetrate his flesh. Had not the stockade within which he had taken shelter been completely sur- rounded one night by a cordon of armed men, and at dawn, when he was to have been captured, he was no- where to be found? Such was the man of whom we shall hear more further on. At the Lao New Year it is customary for all persons of princely rank, all officers and people of influence, to present their compliments to the Prince in person, and to take part in the ceremony of '^ Dam Hiia," by way of wishing him a Happy New Year. Because of the Prince's absence in the field, this ceremony could not be observed at the regular time; but it was none the PIONEER WORK 85 less brilliantly carried out a few days after his return. The name, Dam Hiia, means " bathing the head " or " head-bath," and it is really a ceremonial bathing or baptism of the Prince's head with water poured upon it, first by princes and oflficials in the order of their rank, and so on down to his humblest subjects. The first and more exclusive part of the ceremony took place in the palace, where I also was privileged to offer my New Year's greetings with the rest. The great reception-hall was crowded with the Prince's family and with officials of all degrees. The air was heavy with the fragrance of flowers which loaded every table and stand. All were in readiness with their sil- ver vessels filled with water, awaiting His Highness' ap- pearance. At length an officer with a long silver- handled spear announced his coming. The whole com- pany received him with lowest prostration after the old-time fashion. Seeing me standing, he sent for a chair, saying that the ceremony was long, and I would be tired. The Court Orator, or Scribe, then read a long address of welcome to the Prince on his return from his brilliant expedition, with high-sound- ing compliments on its success. Then there was a long invocation of all the powers above or beneath, real or imaginary, not to molest, but instead to protect, guide, and bless His Highness' person, kingdom, and people, with corresponding curses invoked on all his enemies and theirs. Then came the ceremonial bath, admin- istered first by his own family, his relatives, and high officials — he standing while vase after vase of water was poured on his head, drenching him completely and flooding all the floor. It is a ceremony not at all unpleasant in a hot climate, however unendurable it might be in colder regions. 86 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO This was the beginning. According to immemorial custom, a booth was prepared on a sand-bar in the river. To this, after the ceremony in the palace, the Prince went in full state, riding on an elephant richly caparisoned with trappings of solid gold, to receive a like bath at the hands of his loyal subjects — beginning, as before, with some high nobles, and then passing on to the common people, who might all take part in this closing scene of the strange ceremony. I was not in the concourse at the river, but watched the procession from our sala, the Prince having said to me that he would call on his return. This he did, making us a nice little visit, taking a cup of tea, and listening to the playing of some selections on the organ. He asked if I had selected a place for a permanent station, and suggested one or two himself. But I was in no hurry, preferring to wait for the judgment of Mr. Wilson on his arrival. Meanwhile I was assured that I might remain in the sala, and might put up a temporary house to receive the new family. When I requested his consent to the employment of a teacher, he asked whom I thought of employing. I mentioned the name of one, and he said, " He is not good. I will send you a better one," — and he sent me his own teacher. It was a very auspicious beginning. I knew that neither the Siamese nor the Lao trusted the Prince very thoroughly; yet every time that I saw him it seemed to me that I might trust him. At any rate, I did not then look forward to the scenes that we were to pass through before three years were gone. After the first curiosity wore off, many of those who came to our sala were patients seeking medical treat- PIONEER WORK 87 ment. The title " Maw " (doctor) followed me from Bangkok, where all missionaries, I believe, are still so called. This name itself often excited hopes which, of course, were doomed to disappointment. To the ignorant all diseases seem equally curable, if only there be the requisite skill or power. How often during those first five years I regretted that I was not a trained physician and surgeon! My only consolation was that it was not my fault. When my thoughts were first turned towards missions, I consulted the officers of our Board on the wisdom of taking at least a partial course in preparation for my work. But medical missions had not then assumed the importance they since have won. In fact, just then they were at a discount. The Board naturally thought that medical study would be, for me at least, a waste of time, and argued besides that in most mission fields there were English physicians. But it so happened that eleven years of my missionary life have been spent in sta- tions from one hundred to five hundred miles distant from a physician. So, if any physician who reads this narrative is inclined to criticise me as a quack, I beg such to remember that I was driven to it — I had to do whatever I could in the case of illness in my own family ; and for pity I could not turn away those who often had nothing but superstitious charms to rely on. It was a comfort, moreover, to know that in spite of inevitable disappointments, our practice of medicine made friends, and possibly enabled us to maintain the field, at a time when simply as Christian teachers we could not have done so. Even Prince Kawilorot himself conceded so much when, after for- bidding us to remain as missionaries, he said we might, if we wished, remain to treat the sick. 88 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO In such a malarial country, there is no estimating the boon conferred by the introduction of quinine alone. Malarial fevers often ran on season after season, creat- ing an anaemic condition such that the least exertion would bring on the fever and chills again. The aston- ishment of the people, therefore, is not surprising when two or three small powders of the " white medicine," as they called it, taken with much misgiving, would cut short the fever, while their own medicines, taken by the potful for many months, had failed. The few bottles of quinine which it had been thought sufficient to bring with me, were soon exhausted. The next order was for forty four-ounce bottles ; and not till our physicians at length began to order by the thousand ounces could a regular supply be kept on hand. I have often been in villages where every child, and nearly every person, young or old, had chills and fever, till the spleen was enlarged, and the whole condition such that restoration was possible only after months of treatment. There was another malady very common then — the goitre — which had never been cured by any remedy known to the Lao doctors. I soon learned, however, that an ointment of potassium iodide was almost a spe- cific in the earlier stages of the disease. That soon gave my medicine and my treatment a reputation that no regular physician could have sustained ; for the people were sure that one who could cure the goitre must be able to cure any disease. If I protested that I was not a doctor, it seemed a triumphant answer to say, "Why, you cured such a one of the goitre." Often when I declined to undertake the treatment of some disease above my skill, the patient would go away say- ing, " I believe you could, if you would." PIONEER WORK 89 One other part of my medical work I must mention here, since reference will be made to it later. The ravages of smallpox had been fearful, amounting at times to the destruction of a whole generation of children. The year before our arrival had witnessed such a scourge. Hardly a household escaped, and many had no children left. I was specially interested to prevent or to check these destructive epidemics, be- cause the Prince had seen the efficacy of vaccination as practised by Dr. Bradley in Bangkok, and because I felt sure that what he had seen had influenced him to give his consent to our coming. One of the surest ways then known of sending the virus a long distance was in the form of the dry scab from a vaccine pustule. When once the virus had " taken," vaccination went on from arm to arm. Dr. Bradley sent me the first vaccine scab. It reached me during the first season; and vaccination from it ran a notable course. The Karens and other hill tribes are so fearful of smallpox that when it comes near their villages, they all flee to the mountains. Smallpox had broken out in a Lao village near a Karen settlement. The settlement was at once deserted. Meanwhile the news of the ef- ficacy of vaccination had reached the Lao village, and they sent a messenger with an elephant to beg me to come and vaccinate the entire community. Two young monks came also from an adjoining village, where the disease was already raging. These two I vaccinated at once, and sent home, arranging to follow them later when their pustules should be ripe. From them I vac- cinated about twenty of the villagers. During the fol- lowing week the Karens all returned, and in one day I vaccinated one hundred and sixty-three persons. It was a strange sight to see four generations all vac- 90 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO cinated at one time — great-grandfathers holding out their withered arms along with babes a month old. Success such as this was naturally veiy flattering to one's pride; and "pride goeth before a fall." I had kept the Prince informed of the success of my at- tempt, and naturally was anxious to introduce vac- cination into the palace. The patronage of the palace would ensure its introduction into the whole kingdom. Having a fine vaccine pustule on the arm of a healthy white infant boy, I took him to the palace to show the case to the Prince's daughter, and to her husband, who was the heir-apparent. They had a little son of about the same age. The parents were pleased, and sent me with the child to the Prince. As soon as he saw the pustule, he pronounced it genuine, and was delighted. His younger daughter had lost a child in the epidemic of the year before, and the family was naturally very anxious on the subject. He sent me immediately to vaccinate his little grandson. I returned to the palace of the son-in-law, and very carefully vaccinated the young prince on whom so many hopes were centred. I watched the case daily, and my best hopes seemed realized. The pustules de- veloped finely. All the characteristic symptoms ap- peared and disappeared at the proper times. But when the scab was about to fall off, the little prince was taken with diarrhoea. I felt sure that a little I)aregoric or some other simple remedy would speedily set the child right, and I offered to treat the case. But half a dozen doctors — most of them " spirit-doctors " — were already in attendance. The poor child, I verily believe, was dosed to death. So evident was it that the unfortunate outcome could not have been the result of vaccination, that both the parents again and again PIONEER WORK 91 assured me that they entertained no such thought. But all diseases — as was then universally believed among the Lao — are the result of incurring the displeasure of the '^' spirits " of the family or of the clan. The " spirits " might have taken umbrage at the invasion of their prerogative by vaccination. No doubt some such thought was whispered to the Prince, and it is not unnatural that he should at least have half believed it. In his grief at the loss of his grandson, it is easy to see how that thought may have fanned his jealousy at the growing influence of the missionaries. No year ever passed more rapidly or more pleas- antly than that first year of the mission. We were too busy to be either lonesome or homesick, although, to complete our isolation, we had no mails of any sort for many months. Our two children, the one of three and the other of six years, were a great comfort to us. When we left Bangkok it was understood that a Mr. C. of the Borneo Company was to follow us in a month on business of their teak trade. He had promised to bring up our mail. So we felt sure of getting our first let- ters in good time. Since he would travel much faster than we, it was not impossible that he might overtake us on the way. But April, May, and June passed, and still no word of Mr. C. or of the mails he was bringing. In July we received a note from him, with a few frag- ments of our long looked-for mail. He had been at- tacked by robbers below Raheng, himself had received a serious wound, and his boat had been looted of every portable object, including our mail-bag. Fortunately the robbers, finding nothing of value to them in the mail, had dropped as they fled some mutilated letters and papers, which the ofiicers in pursuit picked up, 92 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO and which Mr. C. forwarded to us. Otherwise we should have had nothing. We could at least be de- voutly thankful that we had traversed the same river in safety. It was long before we were sure that Mr. Wilson and his family were coming at all that year. It was at least possible that any one of a thousand causes might delay them, or even prevent their coming altogether. Their arrival on February 15th, 1868, was, of course, a great event. Not long after this we were eagerly awaiting a promised visit from our old associate and friend, Dr. S. R. House. Both Mrs. Wilson and Mrs. McGilvary were expecting shortly to be confined, and the good doctor was making the tedious journey that he might be on hand to help them with his professional skill in the hour of their need. Our dismay can be imagined, when, one day, there appeared, not the doctor, but his native assistant, with a few pencilled lines from the doctor, telling us that he was lying in the forest some four or five days distant, dangerously, if not fatally, gored by an elephant. We were not to come to him, but were to stand by and attend to the needs of our families. He begged us to pray for him, and to send him some comforts and medicines. The accident happened on this wise : The doctor had been walking awhile for exercise behind his riding elephant, and then attempted to pass up beside the creature to the front. The elephant, startled at his un- expected appearance, struck him to the ground with a blow of his trunk, gored him savagely in the abdomen, and was about to trample him under foot, when the driver, not a moment too soon, got the creature again under control. With rare nerve the doctor cleansed PIONEER WORK 93 the frightful wound, and sewed it up by the help of its reflection in a mirror, as he lay on his back on the ground. He despatched the messenger to us; gave careful instructions to his attendants as to what they should do for him when the inevitable fever and de- lirium should come on; and resigned himself calmly to await whatever the outcome might be. The situation was, indeed, desperate. We could not possibly hope to reach him before the question of life or death for him would be settled ; nor could he be brought to us. The best we could do was to get an order from the Prince for a boat, boatmen, and car- riers, and despatch these down the river, committing with earnest prayer the poor sufferer to the all-loving Father's care. The doctor was carried on a bamboo litter through the jungle to the Me Ping River, and in due time reached Chiengmai convalescent, to find that the two expected young missionaries had arrived in safety before him. After a month's rest he was able to return to Bangkok; but not until he had assisted us in organizing the First Presbyterian Church of Chiengmai. In the Preslyterian Record for November, 1868, will be found an interesting report from the doctor's pen. Naturally he was struck with the predominance of demon-worship over Buddhism among the Lao. We quote the following: "Not only offerings, but actually prayers are made to demons. I shall never forget the first prayer of the kind I ever heard. ... We had just entered a dark defile in the mountains, beyond Muang Ton, and had come to a rude, imageless shrine erected to the guardian demon of the pass. The owner of my riding-elephant was seated on the neck of the big beast before me. Putting the palms of his hands 94 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO together and raising them in the attitude of worship, he prayed : * Let no evil happen to us. We are six men and three elephants. Let us not be injured. Let nothing come to frighten us,' and so on. On my way do^vn the river, at the rapids and gloomy passes in the mountains the boatmen would land, tapers would be lighted, and libations would be poured, and offerings of flowers, food, and betel would be made to the powers of darkness." The doctor speaks also of " the favour with which the mis- sionaries were received, the confidence they had won from all classes, the influence of their medicines, and the grand field open for a physician." He frankly says, " I must con- fess that though at one time I did have some misgivings whether, all things considered, the movement was not a little premature, I now, being better able to judge, greatly honour the Christian courage and enterprise which undertook the work; or rather bless God who inspired Mr. McGilvary's heart, and made his old Princeton friend, Mr. Wilson, consent to join him in thus striking out boldly into an untried field. It will prove, I trust, a field ready to the harvest." VIII FIRST-FRUITS DURING the first three months after Mr. Wil- son's arrival we were so occupied with mis- sion work and with family cares that we had not made choice of the lot which the Prince had prom- ised to give us. On the very day that Dr. House left us, however, the Prince came in person, selected, and made over to us our present beautiful mission com- pound on the east bank of the Me Ping. He would not allow us to oiler any compensation; but, learning after- wards that the native owners had received no remunera- tion, we secretly paid them. Mr. Wilson began at once to erect temporary bamboo buildings, and soon moved to the new compound. Since it was difficult for me to spare time for further work of building for myself, and since the old location was an ideal one for meet- ing the people, I moved with my family from the sala into the bamboo house the Wilsons had occupied, and we made it our home for the next two years. Mr. Wilson was greatly interrupted in his work by sickness in his family. Little Frank had fallen ill on the journey from Bangkok, and continued to suffer during all these months. His death on November 17th, 18G8, was a heavy stroke to us all. In vain we com- bined our slight medical skill, and searched our books of domestic medicine for his relief. It was pitiful enough to see the natives die, with the sad feeling in 95 96 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO our hearts that a physician might have saved their lives. But the death of one of our own number, so soon after the trying experiences early in the year, emphasized, as nothing else could have done, our ap- peals for a physician. Yet it was not until 1872 that we welcomed the first physician appointed to our mission. During this time raids were continually being made into the Lao country by the renegade Ngio chieftain already spoken of. Five hundred men from Pr^, and one thousand from Lakawn were drafted for the defence of the city, and were stationed near our compound. Thus hundreds of soldiers and workmen furnished us an ever-changing audience. All we had to do, day or night, was to touch the organ, and people would crowd in to hear. The dry season of 1868-69 was, therefore, an exceptionally good one for our work. We had con- stant visitors from other provinces, who would con- verse with us by the hour, and, on returning to their homes, would carry the news of our presence and of our work. In the fall of 1868 occurred two events which, widely different as they might seem to be, were in reality closely connected, and of much importance in their bearing on the mission. One was a total eclipse of the sun on August 17th, and the other was the conversion of Nan Inta, our first baptized convert. I well re- member his tall figure and thoughtful face when he first appeared at our salii, shortly after our arrival in Chiengmai. He had a cough, and had come for medicine. He had heard, too, that we taught a new religion, and wished to enquire about that. Some soothing expectorant sufficiently relieved his cough to encourage him to make another call. On each visit FIRST-FRUITS 97 religion was the all-absorbing topic. He had studied Buddhism, and he diligently practised its precepts. As an abbot he had led others to make offerings for the monastery worship, and he had two sons of his own in the monastic order. But Buddhism had never satisfied his deep spiritual nature. What of the thou- sands of failures and transgressions from the results of which there was no escape? The doctrine of a free and full pardon through the merits of another, was both new and attractive to him, but it controverted the fundamental principle of his religion. We had some arguments, also, on the science of geography, on the shape of the earth, on the nature of eclipses, and the like. What he heard was as for- eign to all his preconceived ideas as was the doctrine of salvation from sin by the death of Christ. Just be- fore the great eclipse was to occur I told him of it, naming the day and the hour when it was to occur. I pointed out that the eclipse could not be caused by a monster which attacked the sun, as he had been taught. If that were the cause, no one could foretell the day when the monster would be moved to make the attack. He at once caught that idea. If the eclipse came off as I said, he would have to admit that his teaching was wrong on a point perfectly capable of being tested by the senses. There would then be a strong presumption that we were right in religion as well as in eclipses. He waited with intense interest for the day to come. The sky was clear, and everything was favourable. He watched, with a smoked glass that we had furnished, the reflection of the sun in a bucket of water. He followed the coming of the eclipse, its progress, and its passing off, as anxiously as the wise men of old followed the star of 98 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO Bethlehem — and, like them, he, too, was led to the Saviour. Early the next morning he came in to see me. His first words were, "Men te " (It's really true). "The teacher's books teach truth. Ours are wrong." This confident assurance had evidently been reached after a sleepless night. A complete revolution had taken place in his mind; but it was one that cost him a severe struggle. His only hope had rested on the teachings of Buddha, and it was no light thing to see the foundation of his hope undermined. The eclipse had started an ever-widening rift. He began, as never before, to examine the credentials of Christianity. He soon learned to read Siamese in order to gain access to our Scriptures. We read the Gospel of John to- gether. He studied the Shorter Catechism. He had a logical mind, and it was never idle. Whenever we met, if only for a few moments, he always had some question to ask me, or some new doubt to solve. When tempted to doubt, he fell back on the eclipse, saying, " I know my books were wrong there. If the Gospel system seems too good to be true in that it offers to pardon and cleanse and adopt guilty sinners, and give them a title to a heavenly inheritance, it is simply because it is divine, and not human." While the truth dawned gradually on his mind, the full vision seemed to be sudden. His own account was that afterwards, when walking in the fields and pondering the subject, it all became very plain to him. His doubts all van- ished. Henceforth for him to live was Christ; and he counted all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Him. The conversion of Nan Inta was an epoch in the his- tory of the mission. The ordinary concourse of vis- FIRST-FRUITS 99 itors might be for medicine, or it might be from mere curiosity. But when one of the most zealous Buddhists, well known by members of the royal fam- ily, openly embraced Christianity, the matter began to assume a different aspect. What was more remark- able still was that he urged his two sons to abandon the monastic order. The I'rince's younger daughter, herself a strong Buddhist, told me that this was to her convincing evidence of his sincerity. Whether Chris- tianity were true or false, he certainly believed it true. It was the height of ambition for every Lao father to have a son in the order. If he had none of his own, he often would adopt one and make him a monk. But here was one of the most devout of them urging his own sons to come out and be Christians! We re- garded it as a favourable circumstance that the patron and protector of this our first convert was high in princely rank. Nan Inta's defection from Buddhism produced a profound impression among all classes. Emboldened by his example, secret believers became more open. Not the number alone, but the character of the enquirers attracted attention. The second convert was Noi Sunya, a native doctor from a village eight miles to the east. He has the enviable distinction of never having postponed the Gospel offer. He was the chief herdsman in charge of the Prince's cattle. Coming to the city on an errand, he called at our sala to see what was the at- traction there. As in the case of so many others, it was the good news of pardon for a sinsick soul that arrested his attention. On his return in the after- noon he called again to make fuller enquiry concern- ing " the old, old story of Jesus and His love." He promised to return on Sunday. Promises of that sort 100 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO so often fail, that we were surprised and delighted to see him early on Sunday morning. We had an earnest talk together before the time came for public worship. He remained through the afternoon, and spent the night with us. In answer to a final exhortation be- fore he left us in the morning, he said, " You need not fear my going back. I feel sure I am right." He was willing to sell all — even life itself, as it proved — for the pearl of great price. He went home, called his family together, and began family worship that very night. Only four brief months after this his labours were ended by the executioner's stroke, and he wore the martyr's crown. The third. Sen Ya Wichai, has already been men- tioned as receiving his first instruction in Christianity from the " mother teacher," as Mrs. McGilvary was called, during the very first month of the mission. He then received the great truth of the existence of God and of man's accountability to Him. He was an of- ficer living six days' journey to the north, and was un- der the jurisdiction of the Prince of Lampun. On his visit a year later, he received further instruction, was baptized, and returned to tell his neighbours what he had found. They only laughed at him for his oddity in refusing to join in the Buddhist worship, and in offerings to the spirits. The fourth was Nan Chai, a neighbour and friend of Noi Sunya, and destined to suffer martyrdom along with him. He, too, was an ex-abbot, and, therefore, exempt from government work. He was a good scholar, and was employed by Mr. Wilson as a teacher. When he became a Christian, he was strongly tempted to hold on still to his position in the monastery, ex- plaining that he would not himself engage in the wor- FIRST-FRUITS 101 ship, but would only sweep the buildings and keep the grounds in order for others. But when his duty was pointed out to him, he readily gave up his posi- tion, and was enrolled for regular government service. Here were four noble and notable men at once desert- ing the Buddhist faith! No wonder it became an anxious question whereunto this was to grow. IX MARTYRDOM IN the course of these events our second year of work in Chiengmai had come to its end. We were now beyond the middle of the year 1869. As some indefinable sense of oppression in the air gives warning of the approaching storm, so there were om- inous hints, and even some dark forebodings. Our Christian people — who understood far better than we did both the character of their rulers and the sig- nificance of furtive looks and innuendoes — were anxious. But they stood firm, and their faith strength- ened ours. In the light of subsequent events we now know that the most dangerous element in the gathering storm was the angry surprise of the Prince himself at the discovery that the old order seemed actually pass- ing away under his very eyes; that his will was no longer supreme in men's minds, nor always consulted in their actions — this and the deep treachery and ruth- less cruelty of his nature which it brought into play. But there were other sinister influences at work also, and among them we must not overlook that of a certain Portuguese adventurer, Fonseca by name. He was a thoroughly unprincipled man, who, having played his game in Bangkok and lost, had worked himself into the favour of the Prince during his recent visit to the capital, and had accompanied him on his return 102 MARTYRDOM 103 to Chiengmai. The Prince was persuaded that this man could be of great service to him in the two mat- ters which were then causing him most disquietude; namely, the defence of certain lawsuits involving large sums of money, brought against him in the British Consular Court by Burmese timber merchants; and the getting rid of the missionaries. These last were more in Fonseca's way than they were in the Prince's. He could accomplish his ends more readily if they were not there. The most plausible excuse that could be offered for desiring to be rid of the missionaries was the failure of the rice crop that year. In the early part of the season there was no rain at all. When at last the fields had been planted, one of the worst floods ever known in that region destroyed all the lowland rice. Then, finally, the rains ceased prematurely, and the upland crop was cut off by drought. The presence of the missionaries in the country had offended the spirits, and they had withheld the rain. Such was the pretext urged in a petition sent to Bangkok to have the missionaries removed. The specific address of the petition to the Minister for Foreign Affairs and the United States Consul leads one to suspect that the matter was directed by some one who understood the order of oflQciai business much better than did the Lao Prince. The Minister forwarded the document to Mr. Mc- Donald, the acting Vice-Consul at the time. Mr. Mc- Donald replied to the Minister that there must be some mistake about it. It appeared that the scarcity of rice complained of had begun the year before the arrival of the missionaries; it was not confined to Chiengmai, but extended over all the northern 104 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO provinces. He added roguishly, however, that he would strictly enjoin the American missionaries to be very careful in future not to cause any famine. Of all this secret plotting we were entirely ignorant at the time, and learned of it only long afterwards. While these plots were developing, I was frequently visiting the Prince, and all our relations with him were ap- parently satisfactory. But we knew that he was un- der the influence of a wily and unprincipled adversary. The other matter in which Fonseca was supposed to be able to help his patron out of difficulties even more pressing, was the Burmese lawsuits pending before the British Consul. But the British government was the last party to permit officious meddling with its public business from such a quarter. It is presumed that there was evidence of his interference with official cor- respondence. This much is certain — a peremptory de- mand was made on the Siamese government for his re- call. The official order sent up was too emphatic to be neglected. The man was sent out of the country in quite different style from that in which he entered it. This man is known to have been present at the consultation relative to the mission. If the jealousy and suspicion on the part of the Prince did not origi- nate with him, there is no doubt that he at least worked on the Prince's suspicious nature, increasing his jealousy of the growing popularity of the mission, and leading him to think that it would be wise to stop it in its incipiency. Yet even when the blow was about to fall, we could not believe that the Prince was so treacherous as to plan to drive us out of the country, at the same time that he continued to treat us so kindly, and would even come to dine with us. We could not believe that MARTYRDOM 105 the younger Princess, who had a predominating in- fluence over her father, could encourage one of the Christians to put himself under her protection, only that he might the more surely be sent to his death a day or two later. We could not believe that an ex- cursion down the river had been planned by the Prince, only that he might be out of reach when the executions should take place. We were still incred- ulous, even after we received reliable information from the agent of the Borneo Company that he had heard the Prince and a certain high officer consulting together to stop our work. The plan which he reported was to expel the converts from the country, giving their wives and children the option to follow them or to remain. After all, that would not have been so great a disaster. These men had no great possessions to lose. Their banishment would only plant the Gospel in other provinces or other lands. When, in September, 1869, just before the fatal stroke, the Prince started on what purported to be a three weeks' fishing trip, we thought that his absence would give us a respite from our present fears, and would afford him leisure for better thoughts. As his boats pushed off, we waved him a parting good-bye from the shore. His first business was at Lampun, to se- cure the co-operation of the governor of that province in ridding the country of the new religion. Inasmuch as Sen Ya Wichai, the third convert mentioned above, was a Lampun officer, it was thought prudent in his case to secure the action of his own immediate superior. He was at once sent for, and was condemned to death, but was saved by his young master, the gov- ernor's son, on the plea that he was a backwoodsman, and knew no better. 106 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO Of the deep designs against us and our work we were thus either ignorant or incredulous till, on the evening of September 13th, just before dark, our night watchman came to us with the common excuse for leaving us, that some relative was dead or dying, and insisting that he must go immediately. In vain we urged that he must not leave us thus in the lurch. As a final argument, we threatened to dock him of a month's wages. But wages were nothing to him then. " All that a man hath will he give for his life." While we talked to him, he had reached the gate and was gone. So, also, fled the cook and the coolie, leaving only one blind Ngio who had taken refuge with us. Mr. Wilson then lived across the river on the new premises, and it was not until the next day that we learned that all his people, too, had fled in like manner and at the same hour. We went to Praya Tepasing, the Prince's executive ofiScer, to enquire the cause. He feigned surprise, and professed entire ignorance of any designs against the Christians. He said, how- ever, that the Prince had given an order that the in- habitants of certain villages should bring in each a hewn slab of timber to repair the stockade. Possibly the scare might have somehow arisen from that. We were aware of the order, and had told the Christians that if pressed for time to procure the timber, they might each take a slab of ours. We now told the Praya that we would ourselves be responsible for the timbers required of them. To assure us with regard to our servants, the Praya sent for our cook, gave him a letter assuring his safety, and threatened, besides, to have him flogged if he deserted us. The cook re- mained with us all through these troubles, until we could find another to take his place. For some reason MARTYRDOM 107 Mr. Wilson did not avail himself of this offer. He and Mrs. Wilson got on as they could without servants for several months. We now know that the order for the execution of the Christians had been given long before by that same Praya Tepasing — in such fear of the Prince was the highest officer in the realm! Not only had our servants vanished— there was a sudden cessation of our visitors as well. Few even dared to come for medi- cine for fear of being suspected of becoming Chris- tians. There were, however, a few notable exceptions, the abbot of the Umong monastery being the most con- spicuous. During the following week Mr. Wilson waded out across the flooded country to the home of Nan Chai, his teacher. But his family did not dare to give any information concerning him. To tell what they knew would cost their lives also — so they had been told. He then went on another mile to Noi Sunya's home, with the same result. The wives of both these men pre- tended to believe that their husbands had gone to the city to visit us. Mr. Wilson noticed that one of the women had tears in her eyes as she spoke. Puzzled rather than satisfied by the result of the visit, Mr. Wilson returned with the hope that, after all, the men were still alive, and that we yet should see them in the land of the living. It was two weeks before our suspense was broken by the certainty of their death. On Sunday morning, September 26th, a Nglo friend and neighbour of the martyrs called at my house. After looking all about him, he asked where the Christians were. I told him there seemed to be a mystery about them that we could not unravel, but we hoped they were secreting them- 108 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO selves in safety somewhere. Seeing that I was really- ignorant of their fate, he came close up to me, and looking around again to assure himself that no one was near, he asked, " If I tell you, will you promise never to betray me?" Having demanded and re- ceived an emphatic promise equivalent to an oath, he drew his hand significantly across his neck, and whis- pered, "■ That is the way." His gesture was too well understood in that reign to leave any doubt as to what was meant. The man had really come on a sad and dangerous errand of kindness. As soon as it was ac- complished, he hurried away, evidently fearing that the birds of the air might hear it, or that some breeze might waft it to the palace. On Monday morning Mr. Wilson and I went again to the Praya. He could now no longer lie for his master as to the fact of the execution of the men, but he offered the flimsy excuse that it was because they had not brought in their slabs on time. We were then obliged to charge him with patent falsehood. He knew that they were executed for no crime whatever, but only for being Christians. Poor man ! He seemed somewhat ashamed; but what could he do? He was not at heart a bad man, as his letter of protection for the cook showed. The lives of two peasants were no great matter in those days. He had been so trained to execute every behest of his master, that it scarcely occurred to him that he ought to hesitate at this. But it was some relief to know the worst, and to know that it was known that we knew it. Before this we had been obliged to feign hopes that we hardly be- lieved ourselves. Now we could speak openly. The Prince had not yet returned from his fishing trip; so we went to his elder daughter and her husband, after- MARTYRDOM 109 ward Prince Intanon. In their position they could not say much ; but they did say that what the Prince had done was not right, and that they did not approve of the act. One outcome of the situation was a flood of the wildest rumours — some of them, no doubt, started on purpose to frighten us away. One of these touched us in a most tender point. One of our most faithful servants, who had been with us from the very first, was desirous of visiting Bangkok. So we arranged to have him go down in charge of a boat that was to bring up our supplies for the year. By him we sent a large package of letters written before we had reason to suspect so serious an outcome of the troubles that were brewing. While we could not conceal some gloomy forebodings, our reports were, on the whole, full of hope for the speedy progress of the Gospel. The boat left for Bangkok a few days after the Prince started on his fishing trip. Presently it was reported that the boat had been intercepted, and that this man, with his wife, his son, and his son's family, even down to a lit- tle grandchild of two years old, had been killed, and the boat broken to pieces and burned. Although such atrocity seemed beyond belief, yet a number of circumstances combined to give the report credibility. Why, for instance, was the long, unusual trip down the river taken just before our boat was to start? What did it mean that, after the murder of the Christians was known, no sum of money could in- duce a Lao man to take a letter to Bangkok? If the story of the fate of our messenger were true, the act was the act of a madman — and there is no telling what a madman may not do. He was in a position to keep us from escaping; and if he had really gone 110 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO so far as that, he evidently did not intend that we should be heard from alive. For a time we virtually resigned ourselves to what seemed inevitable fate. When we could get no letters sent, we actually began writing the history of those days on the margins of books in our library, so that, if we were never heard from again, some of the prece- dent circumstances of our end might thus, perhaps, come to light. It was a great relief, therefore, when an influential Burmese, knowing our situation, offered to carry a letter through to our friends in Bangkok. On September 29th, when the letters carried by the Burmese were written, we were still under the im- pression that our boatman had been murdered, and that neither he nor the letters and reports carried by him had been heard from. It was the knowledge that these rumours were false, and that he had passed Raheng in safety, that first relieved our minds. So, too, his arrival in Bangkok gave our friends there the first assurance of our safety. With this explanation the letters themselves will give the best idea of our situation in those dark days. The following is from a letter of Dr. S. R. House to our Mission Board in New York, printed in the Prcshyterian Record of February, 1870. It is dated November 11th, 1869. " Since our last mail was despatched, tidings have been received from the mission families in North Laos which have greatly distressed and alarmed us, causing no little anxiety for their personal safety. This outburst of persecu- tion from which they are now suffering must have been quite unlocked for, for their letters down to September 10th were full of encouragement. Never had the king and the princes ' 1 That is the Prince of Chiengmai and the nobility. These terms are so used generally throughout this correspondence. — Ed. MARTYRDOM 111 seemed more friendly; never had their prospects seemed brighter. Seven interesting converts had been baptized since the year began, and they had just been enjoying a wonderfully favourable opportunity to make the gospel mes- sage known to the people from every part of the kingdom. . . . What has caused this sudden change in the demeanour of the king of Chiengmai toward our missionaries there, does not appear. . . . " Thus far they seem to have had no apprehension for themselves personally; but the next letter, of two days' later date, indicates that something had occurred or had come to their knowledge which led them to believe that their own lives were in jeopardy. On September 29th Mr. McGilvary writes hurriedly to his father-in-law. Rev. D. B. Bradley, M.D., of the A. M. A. mission as follows: — " ' Dear Father and Mother : — We write to tell you that we may be in great danger. If you never hear from us more, know that we are in heaven. Send some one up here to look after our Christians, and do not, we beg you, grieve over the loss of our lives. Two of our church members died at the martyr's stake on the 14th of September. Warrants are out for the others. What is before us we do not know. We are all peaceful, and very happy. We have written letters giving the full facts, but dare not send them for fear of their interception. " ' Lung Puk left here on the 12th direct for Bangkok. Should he never reach you, you may fear the worst for us. . , . He had a large mail with our reports, etc. Should worst come to worst, we have counted the cost beforehand, and our death will not be in vain. Love to all the dear ones. Good-bye, dear father, mother, brothers, sisters, and friends — perhaps till we meet in heaven ! ' " Dr. House then coutinues: " That these letters — the last one especially — awakened our deepest solicitude, I need not assure you. The brethren from the Pechaburi station reached Bangkok, to attend the annual session of Presbytery, the very day the startling tidings came; and anxious were our deliberations, and 112 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO earnest our prayers in behalf of those brethren beloved and their helpless families. A month had then elapsed since the date of the letters. Were they still in the land of the living? " It was deemed advisable that some of our number should proceed as far up the river as possible — to Raheng at least — to learn the existing state of things and extend all possible assistance. After consultation this service devolved on Bros. McDonald and George. " Owing to the peculiar allegiance which holds the Lao tribes tributary to the Siamese, it was thought best not to press any doubtful treaty rights and claims through the United States Consul — that is, the protection they would be entitled to claim anywhere on the soil of Siam proper — but to throw ourselves on the friendliness and good-will of the Siamese Government as old residents here, most of us, who are greatly troubled lest harm should befall our friends who are living in one of their tributary states. What could they do to help us? " The deputation, consisting of Dr. Bradley, Mr. Mc- Donald, Mr. George, and myself, were most kindly received by the new Regent of the kingdom, the late Prime Minister — were received in every respect as friends, and the best en- deavours of the Siamese Government were promised. A government official would be despatched at once bearing a letter to the king of Chiengmai, enjoining on him to give protection to the missionaries. But the Regent added, ' It is difficult to deal with a man so moody and arbitrary as this Chief of Chiengmai. He is like King Theodore of Abys- sinia.'— This too significant comparison had already sug- gested itself in anything but an agreeable way to our- " The Siamese move slowly at the best, and the brethren who have consented to go on this errand so full of per- plexity and possible peril started several days before the royal messenger's preparations were completed. We are waiting with the greatest solicitude further tidings. I must say from what I know of the character of the man in whose hands and at whose mercy they are, that I have great fears. Others here, however, are confident that no harm can come to them personally." MARTYRDOM 113 The following, from a note of mine to the Board, will throw further b'ght on our letter to our friends and on our situation. It was dated October 31st, while we were anxiously waiting for the reply to our letters. ..." But the particular fact that filled us with deepest anxiety when we sent that note to Bangkok, was a rumour that the king had, in person, stopped a boat in charge of our old servant whom we had sent down to Bangkok after money and supplies, and had put him, his wife, and all the boatmen to death. That rumour was currently believed here, and we had so many questions asked us about them by persons in high and in low station, that we were constrained almost to believe it. And if that had been done, we knew not what would come next. Of course we had serious apprehensions regarding our own safety; yet our duty was clear. However dangerous our position, we felt that flight would be more dangerous. . . . Our strength was to sit still. . . . " After waiting a month in suspense about our servants, we have just learned, on pretty good authority, that they were not murdered. They have been reported as having passed Raheng. In a few days we shall know the truth. If they are safe, our greatest fears were groundless. We wait to see the Lord's purpose in reference to this people. We yet be- lieve they are purposes of mercy. The excitement has some- what died down, and we have daily many visitors. But there is great fear of the authorities. No one feels safe; no one knows what will come next." I quote from a letter of Mr. Wilson to the Board the following account of the suffering and death of the martyrs, written January 3d, 1870, after all the various rumours had been sifted, and the facts were clearly known. Meantime the Commission referred to in the letter of Dr. House had come, and this letter was brought to Bangkok by it on its return. This letter and the one cited just above were printed in the For- eign Missionary for March and for May, 1870. 114 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO " Till within a very short time before their execution, we had no apprehension that any serious obstacle would be thrown in the way of the Lao becoming Christians. All the baptisms had taken place publicly. The number, and some of the names, of the Christians had been given in answer to questions asked by the younger daughter of the king, and by others of royal blood. We had become convinced that the king must know that some of his people had become disciples of Jesus. His two daughters had assured Mr. McGilvary that no one should be molested for becoming Christians. With such an assurance from the highest princesses in the land, we flattered ourselves that the king would tolerate Christianity. The fearlessness, also, with which all but Nan Chai professed Christ, made us feel that there was no danger to the life of any one who had received baptism. " Nan Chai, however, seemed anxious. Some two months before his baptism he requested us to write to Bangkok and get the King of Siam to make proclamation of religious toleration. Not a month before his baptism he asked me, ' If the king should call me and ask, " Are you a disciple of Jesus?" would it be wrong to say "No"?' We knew that for some time he had loved the Saviour, but he was follow- ing Him tremblingly. His position as overseer (ex-abbot) of the monastery made his renunciation of Buddhism a more noticeable event, and rendered him more liable to per- secution than some of the others. I may here state that those who, after leaving the monastery, are appointed over- seers of the temple, are, by virtue of their position, exempt from the call of their masters to do government work. Nan Chai belonged to this class. His resignation of this post when he became a Christian, both proved his sincerity, and made him a mark for Buddhist hate and reproach. " Noi Sunya's work was to tend the king's cattle, and in this way he performed his share of public service. He also worked a farm, and was a physician. He was of a genial disposition and cheerful temper, always looking on the bright side of life, happy himself, and trying to make others happy. He was thus a general favourite. His reception of the truth was hearty and childlike. How his face beamed with MARTYRDOM 115 joy that communion Sabbath! Next day, Monday, Sep- tember 6th, about noon, he started for his walk of nine miles across the plain to Me Po Ka. In bidding him good- bye we little thought we should see his face no more. " Our teacher, Nan Chai, came in the following Thursday, somewhat sad because the head man of his village was urging him for some government work and supplies that were then being raised for the army. After resigning the oversight of the temple, being virtually without a master, he had come in to the city to put himself under the king's younger daugh- ter. On Saturday morning, the 11th, she gave him his pro- tection papers, for which he paid the usual three rupees. Some ten days before, when Mr. McGilvary had called with him in reference to this matter, he had, at the princess' request, made a statement of his Christian faith, even to the repeating of a prayer. " On that same Saturday afternoon a message came from the head man of the village for Nan Chai's immediate return home. The message was so urgent that he concluded not to wait for the accustomed Sabbath morning worship. Knowing that there was a disposition on the part of some of the public officers to find fault with the Christians, I thought it best for him to go home, and not return to us till quiet should be restored. He seemed very sad, and said that his master was disposed to oppress him. All that I could say did not rouse him from his depression. He took leave of us about ten o'clock at night. When we awoke on Sabbath morning, he was gone. We know now that shortly after the princess had given him her letters of protection on Saturday morning, she despatched a messenger to the head man of the village ordering Nan Chai's arrest. Imagine that Sabbath morning's walk of nearly nine miles, much of the way through water nearly knee-deep! Dear gentle heart, full of care and fear ! " He reached home about noon. After dinner he called upon the head man of the village; but no one knew the nature of the conference. He was permitted to sleep at home that night. Next morning came the order from the chief man of the district for the overseers of the temples and those doing the king's own work to appear at his house. 116 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO This order included, of course, both our brethren, Noi Sunya and Nan Chai. But to make their attendance doubly sure, armed men were sent with clubs and pikes to conduct them to the appointed rendezvous. Noi Sunya took leave of his wife and six children in tears. He knew what that call and those clubs and spears meant. When they reached the house of the district chief, they found a large armed force ready to receive them. When arrested at their homes they had been charged with refusing to do the king's work. But now Nan Chai was asked, ' Are you an overseer of a temple ? ' He answered, ' I was, but am not now.' * Have you entered the religion of the foreigners ? ' * Yes.' Noi Sunya was asked the same question, to which he also an- swered ' Yes.' " They were then seized, and after further examination were told that they had been condemned to death. While Nan Chai was giving the reason of the faith that was in him, one of the examiners kicked him in the eye, leaving it bloodshot and causing it to swell till the eye was closed. The arms of the prisoners were tied behind their backs. Their necks were compressed between two pieces of timber (the death-yoke) tied before and behind so tightly as pain- fully to impede both respiration and the circulation of the blood. They were thus placed in a sitting posture near a wall, and cords were passed through the holes in their ears and tied to a beam above. In this constrained and painful position — not able to turn their heads or bow them in slum- ber— they remained from Monday afternoon till Tuesday morning about ten o'clock, when they were led out into the jungle and executed. " When Nan Chai was arrested, his wife started on a run to inform us, supposing that he would be brought to the city to undergo a regular trial. In that case she hoped the missionaries could ensure his release. She had arrived in sight of our house, when a messenger from the head man of the village overtook her, and informed her that if she called on us, it would be at the risk of her life. She re- turned immediately, to join him at the district chief's house; but was informed that if she made the least demonstration of grief, she too would be put to death. She sat down by MARTYRDOM 117 her husband for a time. They conversed together as oppor- tunity offered, being narrowly watched by the merciless guard. The prisoners both said, ' Oh, if the missionaries were here, we should not have to die!' Nan Chai's last words to his wife were, ' Tell the missionaries that we die for no other cause than that we are Christians.' One of the guards angrily asked what he had said. She saw that it was best for her to retire, and they parted. " When Nan Chai knew that he and his comrade were doomed, he said to one of the officers, ' You will kill us ; we are prepared. But I beg you not to kill those who are in the employ of the missionaries. They are not Christians, and are not prepared to die.' What a triumph of faith in this once fearful disciple! What a noble forgetfulness of self in that earnest request for the lives of others! " And now, after a long and weary night of painful watching, the morning of Tuesday, the 14th, dawns upon them. The hour is come. They are led out into the lonely jungle. They kneel down. Nan Chai is asked to pray. He does so, his last petition being, ' Lord Jesus, receive my spirit.' The tenderness of the scene melts his enemies to tears. The heads of the prisoners — prisoners for Jesus' sake — are drawn back by slightly raising the cruel yoke they have worn for more than twenty hours. The executioner approaches with his club. Nan Chai receives the stroke on the front of the neck. His body sinks to the ground a corpse. . . . Noi Sunya receives upon the front of his neck five or six strokes ; but life is still not extinct. A spear is thrust into his heart. His body is bathed in blood, and his spirit joins that of his martyred brother. Their bodies were hastily buried. Their graves we may not yet visit. . . . " Only a few days before his death Nan Chai wrote, at Mrs. Wilson's request, a little slip which she forwarded to her friends as a specimen of the Lao language. The last line — the last, no doubt, that he ever wrote — contained the fol- lowing words ' Nan Chai dai rap pen sit leo. Hak Yesii nak' (Nan Chai has become a disciple. He loves Jesua much)." THE ROYAL COMMISSION A FTER the despatch of our hurried notes by the /\ Burmese on September 29th, 18G9, we felt rea- ■^ -^ sonably sure that our friends would learn the news of our situation, and we were in a measure re- lieved. But at that time we still believed the reports about the murder of Lung Puk. In fact, it was these reports, which we had just heard before writing the letters sent by the Burmese, that caused the great anxiety expressed in them. But though we poured out our hearts and unburdened our fears to our friends, no one in Chiengmai outside of our two families ever knew the fears that agitated our breasts. For two months or more we still feared that we might be treacherously murdered under colour as though it were done by robbers or dacoits. We knew not on lying down at night what might happen before dawn. One of the hardest things of the situation was that, in the presence of our own dear children, we felt obliged to speak to each other of these matters by signs alone, since it seemed wise to conceal our fears from them. When we had native callers, or in our visits to the natives, we preached to them just as if nothing had happened. Some that we know were sent as spies to see what we were doing and what we were planning to do, had nothing to report except the Gospel message which they had heard. Then was the time when a few tried friends en- 118 THE ROYAL COMMISSION 119 deared themselves forever to us. Among these was the Princess Bua Kam, and the abbot of the tJmong monastery, both of whom have been mentioned before. The silver plate with a little rice or fruit from the Princess never ceased to come; and the abbot often made an excuse of errands elsewhere in our neigh- bourhood that he might have occasion to call and ex- press his sympathy. One incident which occurred before the various rumours had been cleared up, though well-nigh tragic at the time, seemed afterward amusing enough. After the appalling treachery of the younger daughter of the Prince in regard to Nan Chai, while professing constantly such personal friendship for us, we natu- rally regarded her with profound distrust. What, then, was our surprise, when, one night in the darkest time of our troubles, a summons came for me to go at once to her palace with the officer who brought the mes- sage. I was by no means to wait till morning, and I could get no clue to the object of the summons. But it was almost a royal command. Whatever it might mean, nothing would be gained by refusal ; so I prom- ised at once to go. But a difficulty arose. My wife positively refused to let me go alone. If the worst were to come, she would be there to see it. So the children were left in bed, and off we walked three-fourths of a mile in the dark to the palace. We found it brilliantly lighted up. Was it for the final act? But our fears were soon allayed. The Princess received us as she always had done— probably a little surprised to see Mrs. McGilvary with me. A foreign rug was spread for us, and soon was produced a formidable package of documents in English, which the Princess wanted us to translate! They were from 120 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the court in Maulmein, and had reference to the law- suits. Thej had just arrived, and she could not wait till morning. We glanced over them, gave her the substance of them, and promised that if she would send her scribe down next day, we would translate them. She was relieved to find that there was nothing more formidable in them — and so were we. The whole interview did not last more than fifteen minutes; and when ready to return, we were escorted home by servants with lanterns. For a time we had very few visitors even for medi- cine. But the monasteries were always open, and we were welcomed in nearly all the homes of the princes. I regularly called on the Prince. When he was in a pleasant mood, I had pleasant conversations with him. If I found him moody or busy, I paid my respects and retired. His elder daughter and her husband were always pleasant, and she was always interested to talk on the subject of religion. Another friendship formed the year before was then a great comfort to us, though no one could really help us. A wealthy Chinese, who had charge of collecting nearly all the revenue of the government, had been shot in the city of Lampun, eighteen miles away. A messenger with an elephant was sent, begging me to come at once. It seemed at first impossible for me to go, but finally I did so. The ball had entered be- low the knee while the man was lying down, had fol- lowed the bone, and had lodged in the soft part of the thigh. It was extracted, and I remained there till the patient was out of danger. The wife, a Siamo- Chinese, was a merchant, and acted as our banker for ten years. At this writing, the family has not yet forgotten the service rendered. THE ROYAL COMMISSION 121 But our hourly thoughts were directed to Bangkok. What would be the outcome of our letters? We were continually asked what we were going to do. Our re- ply was that, of course, we intended to remain. There was no telegraph then, nor even a monthly mail. It was not till November 26th that the first news of what was doing in our behalf reached us. It was brought by messengers sent on in advance to notify the gov- ernment that a Royal Commissioner had arrived in Lampun, with two foreigners and a train of eighteen elephants and fifty-three attendants. They were to be in Chiengmai the next day. No intimation, however, was given as to what the object of the Commission was. But plainly it must be a matter of no slight im- portance. Early on the morning of the 27th every one was on the alert. A body of men under the direction of an officer were scrubbing the old sala next door to us, for the letter had asked that preparations be made for the party. A prince whispered in our ears to enquire whether we knew what the " Ka Luang " was coming for. But we knew as little as he did. We were so hopeful, however, that we began to prepare for our guests, too. The whole place seemed in an attitude of expectancy. The sudden arrival of a Ka Liiang was not an everyday occurrence. And then the two for- eigners— two " white kolas " ! In the afternoon the curiosity of every one was grati- fied by the arrival of the long train with the Commis- sioner at its head. The two " white kolas " were none other than our associates in the Siamese mission, the Rev. N. A. McDonald, and the Rev. S. C. George. Were ever guests more welcome! The story was soon told of the receipt of our letters in Bangkok, and of the 122 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO negotiations which had resulted in their coming with a Royal Commissioner and with a " Golden Seal," as the royal letter is called. We now knew definitely that the Commissioner had come on the business of the mis- sion and the treatment of the Christians, But our brethren did not know the contents of the royal letter. No human sagacity could yet predict what turn af- fairs would take. Was the mission to be securely established, or were we to be escorted safely out of the country? The Commissioner immediately notified the Prince of his arrival with the '' Golden Seal," and awaited His Highness' pleasure. The Prince's curi- osity and anxiety were guarantee that there would be no delay. Nine o'clock next morning was niamed as the hour for the audience. The Commissioner notified us to be ready. An oflScer was sent with a palanquin to escort the " Golden Seal " under the golden umbrella to the palace. Mr. Wilson and I, of course, joined the procession. On reaching the grand reception hall at the palace, we encountered such an array of princely state as we had never before seen among the Lao. Every prince, princess, and officer who could come was already there. I quote from Mr. McDonald's oflScial report to the Board, dated February 2d, 1870, an account of the audi- ence. {Presbyterian Record, June, 1870.) " The next morning after our arrival the Regent's letter was conducted in state to the palace under the royal umbrella, and the golden tray containing it was placed on a stand near the middle of the hall. Very soon the king entered the hall apparently calm, but pale with suppressed rage. We arose and bowed to him, and then resumed our seats. The Siamese officers, however, remained prostrate before him, as did every other one in the hall. The king immediately broke the seal and handed the letter to the Siamese sec- THE ROYAL COMMISSION 123 retary to read. After the reading of the letter he looked tip, evidently quite relieved, and remarked, ' This letter does not amount to so much. It gives the missionaries privilege to remain if they wish, or to go if they prefer.' " Mr. McDonald, then, as a member of the Commis- sion, addressed the King, referring to the kindness with which the missionaries had been received by him on their arrival — which was in keeping with the favour shown them in Bangkok, and with the beneficent nature of their work — but regretting that late diificulties had made their stay unpleasant. Among other things he referred to the desertion of their servants. But neither he nor the royal letter made the slightest reference to the murder of the Christians. Mr. McDonald then proceeds : " What I said did not seem to rouse him. He continued to suppress his rage, and replied, ' As to servants, he had never placed any hindrance. He had put to death a couple of fellows — a thing which he had a right to do, since they had failed to do their allotted government work. But that was his own business.' " The Prince evidently thought that the affair was ended, and was preparing to close the audience, greatly relieved that the one dreaded point had not been re- ferred to either in the letter or in the conference. But to stop there would have been an inexcusable blunder on our part. Not only had the good name of the Chris- tians been tarnished, but our own also, if we had made all this great fuss about nothing. It was a dif- ficult thing to face the Prince before his whole court, and charge him with falsehood ; but he had driven us to it. If he had not lied, we had. For once we were called upon to stand before kings for His name's 124 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO sake; and I believe that words were given to me to I said that I was sorry to be compelled to say that the Prince knew that he had not spoken the truth. There was not a man or woman in that audience, nor in the whole country, who did not know that those two men had been put to death for no other pretended reason than that they were Christians. It was done and was proclaimed to be done as a warning to others. They had not refused to do government work. The charge that they had failed to get the slabs for the stockade was a subterfuge. There was not a word of truth in it, as the officer through whom it was done, then present, well knew. When these men received the order to get the slabs, they started immediately, but were at once arrested, and were not allowed to get them. In no sense were they dealt with as crim- inals. On that very day (over three months after the order), not one-fifth of the men in the province had as yet brought in their timbers, and nothing was said about it. In this country it was an unheard-of thing, even for the gravest offences, to decoy men out from their homes into the jungle, and to kill them there with no pretence of a trial. There was a Sanam (Court), there were regular officers of law, even down to the executioner. In the case of these men, not a single form of law had been observed. By the Prince's own order they had been treacherously arrested, led out into the jungle, and cruell}^ clubbed to death in the pres- ence of a lawless mob by a ruffian hired to do it. The old man looked on me in mingled astonishment and rage. Possibly till then he thought we had not been able to learn the facts and particulars in the case. More likely he thought that no one would dare thus THE ROYAL COMMISSION 125 openly and publicly to expose them. But what was said had the desired effect. Up to this point the Prince's position had been impregnable. To assault it successfully would have required the production of evidence; and no man in the country, high or low, would have dared to testify against him. But this un- expected challenge was more than he could endure. He flung all caution to the winds. In an instant his sole defence was abandoned. Mr. McDonald says : "'Yes/ he said, 'he had killed them because they had embraced the Christian religion. And he would continue to kill every one who did the same. Leaving the religion of the country was rebellion against him, and he would so treat it. If the missionaries would remain to treat the sick, they might do so. But they must not make Christians; they must not teach the Christian religion. If they did he would expel them from the country ... At one time I feared that he might become uncontrollable, and break over all restraints, and do us some personal injury. The biamese officer also was alarmed for our safety." Matters now had been brought to a crisis. The Christians had been proved to be not malefactors, but martyrs. We now understood each other, and all parties understood the situation. The Prince's bravado before the Commissioner in one sense was politic. He had read between the lines of the King's letter that the Siamese were afraid of him; and he was quite willing to have it so. On the other hand, his attitude might have the effect of convincing them that he was a dangerous man, to be dealt with accordingly —and I believe it did. But, as Mr. McDonald goes on to say, " It was use- less to attempt any further argument. The mission- aries merely told him that it was their intention to 126 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO remain. The conversation then turned to other sub- jects, and the Prince became more calm. After re- turning 'to the house of Mr. McGilvary, and after anxious consultation and prayer, it was considered best to abandon the mission for a time." The Commissioner strongly advised us to withdraw. Mr. McDonald was naturally timid, and hardly felt safe till he was fairly out of the country. He and Mr. George were sure that it would not be safe for us to remain a single day after the Commissioner departed; and Mr. Wilson agreed with them. Such, then, was the report made to the Board, and the number of the Record from which we have quoted above announced the dissolution of the mission. The news of the scene in the palace spread like wild- fire over the city. We had scarcely reached home when our neighbours and friends began to send us secret messages that it would be foolish to remain. The Prince was like a lion bearded in his den. When the Commissioner left there was no telling what he might do. The Commissioner naturally felt some responsi- bility for our safety, and desired to have us return with him. I so far consented as to allow the Commissioner to send word to the Prince that we would retire as soon as we conveniently could. Yet, from what I knew of the feeling of the people toward us, I could not see that it was the will of Pro\adeuce that the mission should be abandoned. Nor did I believe that it would be hazardous to remain. The Prince evidently had no thought of actually renouncing his allegiance to Siam. He had been directed to see to our safety, if we wished to remain. I think, too, that I understood him better than did either our own friends or the Commissioner. His bluster at the audience was for effect. It was THE ROYAL COMMISSION 127 more than probable that, after sober thought, he him- self would realize that he had gone too far. Before the coming of the Commissioner he had been summoned to Bangkok ; he was at that time busy preparing boats for the journey, and was soon to start. He was too shrewd a man to wish us to appear there before him as witnesses against him. It was, I thought, more than probable that he would meet more than half- way any advance made toward him, though we could not expect him to make the advance himself. Next morning before breakfast Mr. Wilson came over to have a long walk and talk with me. He did not wish to express his fears before our children. He argued with all his logic that it was better to go while we safely could. His idea was to retire to Raheng, where we would be under the direct protection of the Siamese government; for, after yesterday's scene, he was sure we never could be safe in Chiengmai. So far as he was concerned, I thought it a good idea. He might go, and I would remain — at least as long as I could. He felt, however, that he would be to blame if any disaster happened to us. From all responsibil- ity on that score I freely exonerated him. As I viewed the case, our personal risk was at an end so soon as the situation should be known in Bangkok. The Prince would no longer dare either to do anything or to cause anything to be done secretly, as once we feared he would. Therefore, notwithstanding the bluster of the day before, fear for our personal safety had little weight with me. But quite apart from the question of danger, there was much to be said in favour of Mr. Wilson's going to Raheng. The place was an important one for missionary work. The result might possibly be a station in both places, instead of in 128 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO Chiengmai alone. His departure might seem some concession to the wishes of the Prince — would show less determination to thwart his known will. If there were any danger in remaining, it would be less for one family than for two. All I wanted was time to see the Lord's will. At any rate, I was not willing to depart without having an audience with the Prince alone. Against this it was urged that the Prince had a special grudge against me, because of the vaccination of his little grandson, and that this would be increased by my having angered him the day before. But of this I was not afraid. The parents of the dear child had begged me never to think that they blamed me for it. As to what had happened the day before, I believed the Prince's respect for me was higher than it would have been had I allowed him to bluff us with his bare- faced lie. The result of our walk was that Mr. Wilson agreed to have me call on the Prince the next day, though Mr. McDonald maintained that for himself he would not risk it. So, next morning, I called at the palace at an hour when I knew I should find the Prince alone with his head-wife. And, just as I expected, he received me with unwonted cordiality. I referred to the friend- ship between him and my father-in-law, Dr. Bradley; to his cordial consent given to our coming to his coun- try to teach the Christian religion and to benefit his people in other ways ; to his kind reception of us when we came; to his granting us a place for a home; and to his many other acts of kindness. We had come to him as friends, and I could not bear we should part as enemies. As I had anticipated, his whole manner showed that he was pleased at my advance. That, too, he said, was his desire. We might remain at least till THE ROYAL COMMISSION 129 after his return from Bangkok, and take all the time needed for a comfortable departure. I thanked him for his consideration, and told him that Mr. Wilson would probably go at once. We shook hands and parted as if the scene in the palace had never occurred. I had won my point. What I wanted was time, and I had gained it. The Prince could not possibly return in less than six months' time — it might be much longer. In a few days our friends left us. Having no faith in the success of my new negotiations, or possibly thinking that I might be caught in a trap, they re- ported to the Board, as we have seen, that the mission was broken up — as technically it was. This last turn of affairs was merely a private arrangement between the Prince and myself. Had the matter not passed beyond our power, I doubtless should have been credulous enough, or weak enough, to prefer that no further action should be taken by our friends in Bangkok. I did write to Dr. Bradley and to our mission to pursue a pacific policy, and to show the Prince all kindness, as, indeed, I knew they would. But I learned afterwards that their ad- vances were hardly received with courtesy. Mr. George, who asked permission to send by some one of the numerous fleet of boats some parcels to us, was given to understand that the things would not be needed, as the Prince expected both families to leave Chiengmai upon his return. XI DEATH OF KAWILOROT THE Commissioner's report of the attitude as- sumed by the Prince showed the Siamese gov- ernment that the man in control of the northern provinces was of a spirit and temper that might be diflScult to curb — that might at any time throw every- thing into confusion. Hitherto it had been their pol- icy to strengthen his hands to any degree not incon- sistent with his loyalty. Siam and Burma had long been rivals and enemies. A strong buffer-state in the north had been a necessity to Siam. But conditions were changed. Burma was now under English control, and had ceased to be a disturbing factor in the prob- lem. A change in Siamese policy as regards the North was inevitable. When the news of the murder of the Christians be- came known in Bangkok, our friends there deferred to the wishes of the Siamese government as expressed by the Regent — whose goodwill to the mission and to our- selves no one doubted. No steps, therefore, were taken to have the United States officially represented on the Commission. In this we believe our friends w^ere providentially led. But Dr. House's letter does not state, what was also the fact, that the United States Consul, in whose presence the Lao Prince had given his official sanction to the establishment of the mis- sion, was anxious that the United States should be so 130 DEATH OP KAWILOROT 131 represented. And when that Commission so signally failed to accomplish anything satisfactory, it was the Consul's turn to say to our friends, " I told you so." Because, as they themselves expressed it, of the law- less nature of the Lao Prince, and the consequent dif- ficulty of protecting foreigners so far away, our Siamese friends would then have preferred to have us recalled. In fact, that was their first thought. The first draft of the letter prepared to be sent by the Com- mission actually contained the stipulation that we be safely conveyed back to Siam proper. It was only the indomitable perseverance of Dr. Bradley — who frankly declared that he would rather have no such letter sent at all — that secured the omission of that clause, and left the way open for the possible continuance of the mission. So, when the Commission returned to Bang- kok, and it was known that the Lao Prince was soon to follow them, General Partridge, the United States Consul, immediately took up the case, and insisted that the Siamese government give guarantee for the fulfilment of promises publicly made by its vassal in the presence of officials of both governments. " Before this you could say, ' He is like a tiger in the jungle; we cannot control him.' But when he reaches Bangkok, he is in your power. You can then make your own terms regarding his return." How this negotiation was conducted, I am not aware. But from the Preshyterian Record of September, 1870, we learn that the Consul carried his point: "Dr. House sends us word that the Siamese government has extended its protection over the missionaries in Chieng- mai ; they are not to be molested in their work. As the king of Chiengmai is tributary to Siam, this decision will no doubt be respected. This king is not likely to live long, and 132 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO he will be succeeded by his son-in-law, a prince who has shown a friendly interest in the missionaries. The interven- tion of the Siamese government was obtained by the U. S. Consul, Gen. Partridge, not at the instance of the mission- aries, but he took the ground of treaty stipulations between Siam and our country, which accorded the right of pro- tection to American citizens." From the Foreign Missionary of September, 1870, we quote the following extract from the Bangkok Sum- mary, doubtless from the pen of Dr. Bradley : " I am very happy to learn from the most reliable authority that His Grace the Regent has been pleased to commit the American citizens in Chiengmai to the care and protec- tion of the Maha Uparat, the son-in-law of the king, charging him to assist, nourish, and protect them so that they shall suffer no trouble and hindrance in their work from persecu- tions like those through which they have passed since Sep- tember 12th last. " His Grace, moreover, is understood to have promised that he will certainly arrange to have those American citizens protected in Chiengmai according to the stipulations of the treaties, even though the present king should live and con- tinue his reign. " The Maha Uparat enjoys the reputation of being a mild and discreet prince. He received this his new title a few weeks since from His Majesty the Supreme King of Siam, h^ virtue of which he is constituted Second King of Chieng- mai. I learn that His Grace the Regent has virtually com- mitted the rule of that kingdom to him during the illness of the king, and has assured him that he is ultimately to become the king's successor to the throne. " This I regard as good news, indeed, and too good to be held a day longer from the public. Who will not agree with me that the Siamese government is worthy of a great meed of praise for what it has done in the matter of the Chiengmai mission? But let us see to it that the King of Kings, as well, receives our highest praise for all these gratifying events of His providence." DEATH OF KAWILOROT 133 While the Consul was pressing these claims, Prince Kawilorot, as was intimated in the last extract, be- came dangerously ill. He was stricken with almost instantaneous loss of consciousness, and complete paralysis of speech. Meanwhile we in Chiengmai, only five hundred miles away, were in profound ignorance of what was happening. If we had despatched a spe- cial messenger thither for news, it would have been three months before he could have returned with a re- ply. And the first news we received was not reassur- ing. Word came that the time was set for the Prince's return ; that he had been promoted to higher honours, and had received higher titles; that he was returning with full power, and probably flushed with fresh vic- tories. Of course, that did not necessarily mean very much. Siam understood perfectly the great trick of oriental statecraft, the giving of high-sounding titles, with, perhaps, a larger stipend, in compensation for the loss of real power. But it was a time of great anxiety for us. Revenge was a passion which that man seldom left ungratified. Would he come breath- ing out slaughter against the church and vengeance on us? By and by there came a message stating that the Prince was ill, and directing that ofi'erings be made for his recovery. Then came news that he was already on his way, and had sent orders for a hundred ele- phants to meet him at the landing station below the rapids. Some surmised that his illness was feigned in order to escape the lawsuits which were pressing him. About the middle of June we learned that he had reached the landing station, but was very seriously ill. It was still more urgently enjoined that his rela- tives and the monasteries in Chiengmai should " make 134 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO merit " in his behalf, and propitiate the demons by gen- erous offerings. On the evening of June 29th, while riding through the streets of the city, some one called out to me, " The Prince is dead ! " No news ever gave me such a shock. I stepped in to the residence of one of the princes, a nephew of Kawilorot, to get the particulars, but found him in a dreadful state of mind. Yes. The Prince was dead; and word had come that he (the nephew) was to go to Bangkok to bear the brunt of the lawsuits — to answer in his own name for transactions done by order of the dead Prince ! How soon the strongest prejudices fade and dis- appear in the presence of death! The anxious fears of his return that had haunted us, all dissolved into tender sympathy now that he was gone. We forgot his treachery and cruelty, and thought only of his in- teresting human qualities. We recalled his taking tea or dining with us, and even the dry jokes that he so much enjoyed. He was a tender father. He could be a warm, though a fickle and inconstant friend. In many respects he was a good ruler. He was absolute and tyrannical ; but there was no petty thieving in his realm. And now that voice that had made thousands tremble was silent in death ! No doubt it was with a sigh of relief that the Siamese government turned over the government of the North to one whom they could better trust. But it would be a hard heart that could follow un- moved that long, weary homeward trip of the dying Prince. He was so weak that he could not endure the jarring caused by the use of the setting-poles. His boat had to be taken in tow of another. When the last lingering hope of life died out, his one desire was to DEATH OF KAWILOKOT 135 reach home — to die in his own palace. The trip through the rapids he could not bear, and it was too slow for the dying man. Travel by elephant is both rough and slow. He is brought ashore, therefore, and borne on a litter as swiftly as relays of men can carry him. Over the mountains and up the valley of the Me Ping, under burning sun and through driving rain, they hasten. At last, on the evening of June 28th, they halt on the left bank of the Me Ping, with only that stream between him and his own country. " What land is this?" he asks. '^ Lampiin," is the reply. '' Carry me across quickly ! " He is obeyed, but sinks exhausted by the fatigue of crossing. He passes a restless night. His mind wanders. He dreams of be- ing at home; of worshipping in his own palace. The morning comes. He is still alive ; but so weak that, in spite of his eagerness to hasten on, at every few paces his bearers must halt, while attendants fan him or administer a cordial. At last fan and cordials fail. The litter is set down under the two golden umbrellas that screen it from the burning rajs of the sun. The little group stand with bowed heads and hushed hearts while the spirit takes its flight, to appear before its Maker. — Almost, but not quite home, and with none of his immediate kin by him to see the end! The at- tendants cover the body with a cloth, and hasten on to the next station, a few miles below the city. The pro- cession halted there at about the very time that the messenger reached Chiengmai with the news that he was dead. Such, as I learned next day from the attending prince, were the last hours of His Highness Chao Kawilorot Suriyawong, Prince of Chiengmai. He died at ten o'clock in the morning of June 29th, 1870, in 136 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the seventieth year of his age, and in the sixteenth of his reign. Next morning before breakfast I was sent for by the younger daughter of the Prince, to go to the residence of the nephew, whom I had left late in the evening before in such a distracted state of mind. How shocked was I on entering to find the prince cold and dead! The Princess wished to get my judgment whether he was really dead beyond all hope of resusci- tation. But it required no skilled physician to an- swer that question. He had evidently died by a dose of opium administered by his own hands. The little cup from which it was taken was still by his bedside. Whether it was intentional suicide to escape the law- suits of his deceased master, or was simply designed to ease the mental troubles of that night, they could tell as well as I. In either case, he slept the sleep that knows no waking till the summons of the last trump. After breakfast I rode out to the encampment, only two or three miles away, where the body of the Prince was lying. The family and officers and friends were assembled to look for the last time on that noted face. The last act before placing the body in the coffin was to cover it throughout with gold-leaf, to give it the ap- pearance of being a Buddha. But no gold-leaf could disguise that face. The family remained there a few days, partly for the much needed rest, but chiefly to await a day of good augury for carrying the remains to the city. The day was well chosen for such a pageant as the country had not seen, to honour alike the departed, and to welcome the succeeding Prince. There was a long and imposing procession of soldiers, monks, and DEATH OF KAWILOROT 137 people marching to the wailing of the funeral dirge and to the slow, solemn beat of drums. Near the head of the line, on his elephant, was the son-in-law, Chao In- tanon, soon to be Prince of Chiengmai. Not far be- hind came the body of the dead Prince, borne on a golden bier and accompanied by a large train of yel- low-robed priests. Behind this was the vacant throne, and on it the royal crown, both testifying to the empti- ness of human pomp and power. Then came one lead- ing the horse His Highness used to ride ; and next, his favourite elephant, its huge body covered with trap- pings of gold. After these came members of the Prince's family and other near relatives. About ten o'clock the procession approached the city which, by inexorable custom, may never open its gates to receive the dead — not even though the dead were he whose word for so many jears had been its law. What a comment on human glory and on the tyranny of su- perstitious custom! On reaching the South Gate, therefore, the procession turned to the right, and passed on outside the city wall to the East Gate. There, in the Prince's summer garden, beside the river, his remains lay in state until the great cremation cere- mony a year later. Meantime a lamp was kept burn- ing at the head and at the foot night and day. A prince was in constant attendance. Courses of monks chanted the requiem of the Buddhist ceremonial for the dead. At intervals during the whole night the beat of the drum resounded through the air, reminding the city that there lay all that remained of one of its greatest masters. Prince Intanon, though not yet oflScially installed, assured me, as soon as I met him at the encampment, that we were to remain and build our houses and prose- 138 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO cute our work without let or hindrance. Other princes and officers were pleased to give the same as- surance. With the Prince's party there came a large mail from friends in Bangkok, giving full particulars of the negotiations that were stopped by the sudden illness of the Prince, and clearing up the questions about which we were so much in doubt. The interposi- tion of Providence had been so marked that we could only stand in awe before Him who had so wonderfully led us. For, after the utmost stretch of my own credulity in trying to trust the Prince, my final con- viction is that, had he lived, he and the mission could not have existed in the same country. He could never have endured to see his people becoming Christians — Not that he cared so much for Buddhism; but it would have been a constant challenge to his autocratic rule. In March, while the scenes of this tragic drama were slowly enacting in Bangkok, and while we were anxiously awaiting the denouement, we had a pleasant episode of another kind. One morning we were sur- prised to learn from some natives that out on the plain, not far from the city, they had passed two white for- eigners, a man and a woman, and that they were com- ing to our house. Sure enough, about ten o'clock, who should ride up but Rev. and Mrs. J. N. Gushing of the American Baptist Mission in Burma! What an un- expected pleasure! For three years we had seen but two white faces outside of our own little circle. Some of our latest news from home friends was eleven months old when we received it. What a social feast we did have! They had started from Shwegyin, Burma, had made a tour west of the Salwin River, crossed over to Keng DEATH OF KAWILOROT 139 Tung, come down by Chieng Sen and Chieng Rai, and now called at Cliiengmai on their way back to Burma. Their visit was a real godsend to us in the time of our troubles. XII THE NEW REGIME ONE of the results of the change of government was that we were able to build permanent houses. For three years and more we had lived within basket-woven bamboo walls that a pocket- knife could pierce, neither secure nor wholesome nor favourable for our work. They bore silent but steady testimony that we ourselves did not regard our stay as permanent. The results of our manner of living were already seen in the impaired health of the mem- bers of the mission. My wife surely could never have lived another decade in the old sala with bamboo walls and ceiling, where the dust from the borers in the wood constantly filled the air and poisoned the lungs. Mrs. Wilson bore up bravely for five years, until there was just ready for her reception the permanent house which she was never to enjoy. As soon as they could, the family started for the United States on furlough, all thoroughly broken down. After two years of rest Mr. Wilson alone was able to return to the field, leaving Mrs. Wilson behind. She never regained her health, and they never saw each other again. Her departure was a great loss to the mission. She was a gifted lady, a fine vocal and instrumental musician, and a consecrated missionary. She left one literary work in Lao, the translation of Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, which has since been published. 140 THE NEW REGIME 141 But as matters then were, there was much perplexing work to be done before we were at all ready to begin building. I was favoured in getting a lot of first class teak logs delivered at a very cheap rate. Then the trouble began. The logs must be hauled up from the river by elephants to the lot where they are to be sawn. The log is raised and mounted on two strong trestles. A black line to guide the saw is struck on either side. Two sawyers stand facing each other across the log, grasping the handles of a long framed saw with horizontal blade. Then the operation begins. The saw is pushed and pulled back and forth till the cut is carried through to the end of the log. This operation is repeated for every stick of timber put into the house. But we are already too fast. Where are the sawyers to come from? There were then no good sawyers among the Lao. No one dared to learn for fear of be- ing appropriated by the Prince, or of being compelled to work on public buildings. There were, however, three pairs of sawyers, debtors to the Prince, whom he had brought up from Raheng for his own work. Whenever not needed by him or by some other person of rank, they were allowed to seek employment else- where. So, at odd times, I was able to secure their services. But if the Prince needed them, they must at once drop everything and go. Scores of times our sawyers were called away, often for weeks at a time, and at the busiest stage of the work. And now for the carpenter. The Lao dared not be known as carpenters for the same reason as that given above in the case of the sawyers. They would have been constantly requisitioned for government work. There was in the place only one Siamese carpenter 142 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO reputed to be a good workman. In order to get him, I had to advance him three hundred rupees, professedly to pay a debt, but most likely to gamble with. He was to build by contract. But he had already received his money, or so much of it that he was quite inde- pendent. He soon slashed and spoiled more timber than his wages were worth. So, to keep him from ruining the whole, I had to get rid of him, even at some sacrifice. Just then a Siamo-Chinese turned up, who took the job by the day under my direction, to be assisted by some Christians whom we trained thus as apprentices. The house was built on the plan of the East Indian bungalow — raised ten feet from the ground on posts, with single walls and a veranda all round. Its large lofty rooms, screened on all sides by the verandas, make it still one of the most comfortable houses in the mission. It was more than eight years from the time of our arrival when we entered it; and even then it was not finished. Although the new government was friendly, yet some of the ruling spirits were in their hearts as hostile as the deceased Prince had ever been, and without his more noble qualities. There were two in particular who soon began to show that their secret influence would be against the mission — and their open hostility, too, so far as they ventured to let it appear. One was the adopted son of the late Prince, and the other the new ruler's half-brother, who had been made Uparat, or second in power, when the new Prince ascended the throne. Had these both lived, their com- bined influence would have been nearly as formidable as that of Kawilorot. Unfortunately, too, the actual business of the country was largely in their hands. Prince Intanon was not at all ambitious for pow^r. THE NEW Rl^GIME 143 He liked nothing better than to work without care or responsibility in his own little workshop, making fancy elephant-saddles, and let his half-brother rule the coun- try. During the following year the adopted son went down to Bangkok to receive the insignia of his new rank, but never returned. His death was even more sudden than that of his foster-father. He was taken with the cholera, and died in a few hours. This left the elder of the two avowed enemies of Christianity, and the higher in rank and power. To give an illustration of the kind of spirit we had to contend with in him, I will anticipate an incident of a few years later. Two native Karens, ordained ministers, were sent by the American Baptist Mission to initiate in Lao ter- ritory a work among the Karens, a hill-people scat- tered sparsely throughout all the mountain region be- tween Siam and Burma. The native evangelists brought with them letters from the missionaries in Burma, requesting us to aid them in getting Lao pass- ports. We went with them to the new Prince, and he very graciously gave direction to his brother to see that passports were issued, stating not only that the visitors were to be protected and aided as travellers, but also that they were to be allowed to teach the new religion, and that people were allowed to embrace it without fear. I was specially interested that they should succeed in the first village which they were to visit, for it was the one where I had vaccinated the whole population during the first year of our mission. Since I had failed to make Christians of them — partly, as I sup- posed, on account of my ignorance of their language, but more on account of the persecution which fol- lowed so soon after — I hoped that when the message 144 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO was delivered in their own tongue, with official per- mission to embrace it, the whole village might accept the Gospel. What was the astonishment of the preachers that, instead of being received with the char- acteristic hospitality of their race, they hardly found common civility! At last they learned the reason. The Chao Uparat had secretly despatched a special messenger with a letter under his own seal, forbid- ding any Karen subject to embrace the new religion. All who did so were to be reported to him. What that meant, or what he wished them to infer that it meant, was well understood. Our readers, therefore, will not be surprised that we found it necessary to keep an eye on the Chao Uparat, and to use considerable diplomacy in coun- teracting his schemes against the church. It was my policy in those days to keep up as close an acquaint- ance as possible with the members of the ruling fam- ily. It was the misfortune of all of them that they were ignorant ; ^ and ignorance begets suspicion. Some of them were naturally suspicious of the missionaries. They could not understand what motive could induce men who were neither government ofiScials nor merchants, to leave a great country and come to live in theirs. Two objects were gained by keeping in contact with the rulers. They saw, then, with their own eyes, and heard with their own ears, what we were doing. In nearly every interview our one great work was mag- nified alike to prince, priest, and people. I have here- tofore specially mentioned princesses, too, as well as princes, in this connection, because the Lao have a ^ This same Uparat, whose word ruled the country, was unable to write bis own orders. THE NEW RfiGIME 145 proud pre-eminence among non Christian races in the position accorded to woman. In the family, woman's authority is universally recognized. At the time we speak of it was much the same in the government also. The influence of women in affairs of state was doubt- less greatly increased during the previous reign, when, there being no sons in the royal household, the daughters naturally became more prominent. They were trained to understand and to deal with public business. I have already referred to the kindness of the elder daughter, now not, as in former reigns, the head-wife, but the only wife of the new ruler. By birth she was of higher rank than he; and she was in every way worthy of the high position she now assumed. Hers was, in fact, the strong intelligence and steady will that kept her more passive consort from errors into which he would otherwise have been led. At this par- ticular juncture she was needed as a check against the Prince's more ambitious and less principled half- brother. She had a woman's instinct to discern a point, and a woman's revulsion against lawless acts, even when done by her own father. In honesty of purpose she and her consort were one, for his kind- ness of heart had drawn to him more dependents than any other prince in the land possessed. The murder of the Christians they both regarded as " worse than a crime — a blunder." For the present, however, there was no indication of the sinister forces which came into play later. All in authority seemed to be hon- estly carrying out the orders from Bangkok concern- ing the missionary work. A year was spent in preparation for the ceremonies attending the cremation of the dead Prince. During 146 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the last three months of this time, everything else in the whole land yielded place to it. Not only was there requisition of men and materials throughout the prov- ince of Chiengmai ; but all the neighbouring states fur- nished large levies of men under the personal direction of their princes or officers of rank. Such occasions offer exceptional opportunities for meeting people from all parts of the country, for forming lasting friend- ships, and for sending some knowledge of the Gospel to distant provinces. In after years I never made a tour on which I did not encounter friends whose ac- quaintance I had made at the great cremation fes- tival. The preparations were hastened somewhat because of the unsettled state of the country. Chao Fa Kolan, the Ngio freebooter of whom we have already heard, was still at his old tricks. Emboldened by the death of the Prince, and the confusion incident to the change of rulers, he had become more insolent than ever. Villages had been burned within less than a day's march from the city. Bands of men, euphemistically called an army, were levied and despatched to capture him; but long before they could reach him, he was safe within his stronghold in the mountains. The dead Prince was born on a Sunday; therefore every important event of his life must take place on that day, even to the last dread summons, which is not under man's control — and beyond that, to the final disposition of his mortal remains. Sunday, therefore, was the first day of the ceremonies. On that day the body was removed from the summer gar- den to the " Men," where it was to lie in state to re- ceive the homage of his relatives and subjects until the following Sunday. The morning of each day was A CREMATION PROCESSION THE NEW REGIME 147 devoted to " merit-making " of various kinds — feed- ing the monks, making offerings to them, and listening to the reading of the sacred books. The afternoons were largely spent in boxing games, a favourite amuse- ment of the Lao. The evenings were given up to gambling. Everything went on according to programme until Thursday morning, when the festivities were rudely in- terrupted. Chao Fa Kolan, the bandit chief, taking advantage of the occasion, made one of his sudden forays to within so short a distance of Chiengmai that he actually had posted on the city gates during the night an insolent manifesto to the effect that the as- sembled Princes need not trouble themselves further with the cremation of the dead Prince. He and his band would attend to that! The news produced a tremendous panic. The whole business of the crema- tion was incontinently stopped. A force was sent out after the marauder — with the usual result. Before the end of the week, however, the panic had sufficiently subsided to permit the ceremonies to be resumed. The cremation itself was carried out on the following Sun- day as planned. During all these years the demand for medical treat- ment, and the opportunity which its exercise brings, had been constantly growing. I made, for example, a second trip to Lampiin, this time at the call of the Chao Uparat of that city. The poor man had con- sumption, and at first sent to me for some foreign medicine, thinking that would surely cure him. Judg- ing from his symptoms as reported, I sent word that I could not cure him; that the soothing mixture which I sent was sent in hope that it might give him a few nights' rest ; but that was all I could do. Presently he 148 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO sent an elephant with a most urgent appeal that I come to see him. I was glad of the call, for it gave me the opportunity of directing a dying man to something even more urgently needed than medicine. I spent a few days with him, and visited all of the leading families and officials of the place, establishing most valuable and friendly relations with them. Long before this time, both the demand for med- ical treatment and the responsibility involved far ex- ceeded what any person without complete professional training could undertake to meet. We had urged upon our Board the claims of our mission for a physi- cian. The following touching appeal, which appeared in the Foreign Missionary for March, 1870, was made by Mr. Wilson not long after the death of his son Frank. After sending an earnest appeal from Nan Inta for helpers, Mr. Wilson says: " Of course Nan Inta's call for help includes in it a Christian physician. Who will respond? I am convinced there are many young men in the medical profession whose love for Jesus and whose sympathy with human sufferings are strong enough to bring them all the way to Chiengmai, if they will but yield themselves to this constraining influ- ence. Christian physician, you are greatly needed here. The missionary's family needs you. This suffering people needs you. You were needed months since, when a voice so sweet and full of glee was changed to piteous shrieks of pain. You were not here to give relief; and if you now come, it will not greet you, for it is hushed in death. You are needed here now. A plaintive cry comes to me as I write. It is the voice of our dear babe, whose weak condition fills our hearts with deepest anxiety. May I not interpret this plaintive cry as addressed to you? It is the only way that M. has of saying to you, * Come to Chiengmai.' When you arrive, she may be sleeping beside her little brother. But you will find others, both old and young, whose pains you may be able THE NEW REGIME 149 to soothe, and whose souls you may win from the way that leads to eternal death." Great was our joy, therefore, when, in the summer of 1871, we learned that Dr. C. W. Vrooman, from Dr. Cuyler's church in Brooklyn, had responded to our appeal, and already was under appointment of our Board for Chiengmai. His arrival was delayed some- what because it was thought unsafe for him to make the river trip during the height of the rainy season. So it was January 22d, 1872, before we welcomed him to Chiengmai. He came with high credentials as a physician and surgeon with experience both in private and in hospital practice. He began work on the day of his arrival. He found Nan Inta at the point of death from acute dysentery; and his first trophy was the saving of that precious life. Had he done nothing else, that alone would have been well worth while. One or two operations for vesical calculus gave him such a reputation that patients came crowding to him for relief. In his first report he writes : " I was very glad to commence work as soon as I arrived in the field. The number was large of those who came to the brethren here for daily treatment; and such is the repu- tation which they have established for themselves as physi- cians, that the demand for our professional services is greater than we can properly meet. I am satisfied that the demand for a medical missionary here was not too strongly urged by the brethren in their earnest appeals to the Board. " I have already had much professional work to do, and while I am ministering to physical ailments, Brother Mc- Gilvary, who is kindly my interpreter, has opportunity to break unto many the bread of life. . . . Two men have just left who came a long distance, hoping we could bring to life a brother who had died hours before." XIII EXPLORATION NOT long after Dr. Vrooman's arrival it was de- cided to undertake our first extended tour. It was important to ascertain the size and pop- ulation of our whole field ; and this could be accom- plished only by personal exploration. A journey for this purpose would, of course, aff'ord abundant oppor- tunity for preaching the Gospel; it would, besides, give the doctor a needed change, and would effectually advertise his work. Our objective was Luang Prabang, then one of the largest of the provinces of Siam, as it was also the most distant one. A journey to it seemed the most profitable that could be made during the time at our disposal, and the most comfortable as well, since a large stretch of it could be made by boat. It was already too late in the season to accomplish all that we desired ; but " half a loaf is better than no bread." It might be years before a longer trip could be made. As a matter of fact, it was sixteen years be- fore I visited Luang Prabang again. The Prince gave us a passport, sending us as his guests to be entertained without expense; though, of course, we always paid our way. Our letter stated that we went as teachers of religion and as physicians for the sick. It was a virtual proclamation for all the sick to apply to us for treatment. This gave fre- quent occasion for retort that we did not remain long 150 EXPLORATION 151 enough to comply with our letter. We could only re- ply by pointing to the clouds and the long journey ahead. The party consisted of Dr. Vrooman, myself, a cook, a body-servant, and eight carriers, with a newly baptized convert as the only available assistant in the religious work. The elephants required for our trans- portation over the first stage of our journey — to Chieng Rai — we had secured, for a wonder, without effort, and very cheaply. Their owner was anxious to get them out of the country to escape an epidemic which then was prevalent. The start was on April 15th, 1872, after a heavy storm which ushered in the rainy season. This was my first trip over the road to Chieng Rai, after- wards so familiar to me. After leaving the plain of Chiengmai, the road ascends the valley of the Me Kuang River, fording that stream no less than forty- nine times before it reaches the summit, 3100 feet above sea-level, the watershed between the Me Ping and the Me Kong.^ Thence it descends to the Me Kok at Chieng Rai. The owner of our elephants travelled 1 In standard Siamese the vowel in the name of this great river is undoubtedly long o, and has been so since the days of the earliest Siamese writing. Such also seems to have been the understanding of the early travellers who first brought the name into European use, for Mekong is the uniform spelling of all the standard Atlases and Gazetteers which I have been able to consult. In the Lao dia- lect, however, the vowel is that represented by aw in lawn. This is the pronunciation which Mr. J. McCarthy, Director of the Siamese Royal Survey Department, heard in the North, and transferred to the Map of Siam, which he compiled, as Me Kawng. This, how- ever, Mr. R. W. Giblin, Mr. McCarthy's successor in oflSce, recog- nized as an error, and assured me that it should be corrected in the new map which he hoped soon to publish. Mr. Giblin, however, has left the service, and the map, I fear, has not yet been issued. But since Siamese speech and the usage of geographical authorities are at one on this point, there can scarcely be question as to the proper form for use here.— Ed. 152 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO with us, and was unnecessarily tender to his beasts. In consequence we were ten days making this stage of the trip, which afterwards, with my own elephants, I used to make in less than six. On this trip I walked almost the whole distance. At Chieng Rai we were cordially received. The gov- ernor listened to the Gospel message, and, I believe, received it in faith, as we shall see later. Thence we took boat down the Me Kok to its junction with the Me Kong. The sand-bar where we spent the Sabbath was covered with fresh tracks of large Bengal tigers. Shortly after this we passed out of the Me Kok into the great Me Kong, with reference to which I take the liberty of quoting from a recent work, Five Years in Siam, by H. Warrington Smyth, F.R.G.S. " Few can regard the Me Kawng without feeling its pecu- liar fascination. That narrow streak connecting far coun- tries with the distant ocean, — what scenes it knows, what stories it could tell! Gliding gently here, and thundering with fury there where it meets with opposition; always con- tinuing its great work of disintegration of hard rocks and of transport of material; with infinite patience hewing down the mountain sides, and building up with them new coun- tries in far climes where other tongues are spoken; it never stays its movement. How few men have seen its upper waters! What a lonely life altogether is that of the Me Kawng! From its cradle as the Gorgu River in the far Thibetan highlands, to its end in the stormy China Sea, it never sees a populous city or a noble building. For nearly three thousand miles it storms through solitudes, or wan- ders sullenly through jungle wastes. No wonder one sat by the hour listening to its tale. For though but dull to read of, the wide deep reality rolling before one had an intense interest for a lonely man. " Rising in about 33° 17' N. Lat. and 94° 25' E, Long, in the greatest nursery of noble rivers in the world, where six EXPLORATION 153 huge brethren have so long concealed the secrets of their birth, it flows southeast through Chinese Thibetan territory to Chuande, where the tea caravan road from Lhasa and Thibet on the west, crosses it eastward towards Ta Chien Lu and China, over 10,000 feet above sea level." Almost within sight from the mouth of the Me Kok were the ruins of Chieng Sen, once the largest city in all this region. Its crumbling walls enclose an oblong area stretching some two miles along the river. Seventy years before our visit it had been taken by a combined army of Siamese and Lao. Its inhabitants were divided among the conquerors, and carried away into captivity. At the time of our visit, the city and the broad province of which it was the capital had been desolate for three-quarters of a century. Nothing remained but the dilapidated walls and crumbling ruins of old temples. Judging from its innumerable images of Buddha, its inhabitants must have been a very religious people. One wonders whence came all the bronze used in making them in those distant days. To me it was an unexpected pleasure to find myself in that old city, the ancestral home of so many of our parishioners. Little did I think then that twenty years later I should aid in organizing a church where we then stood. The Me Kong is here a mighty stream. It must be a magnificent sight in time of high water. A short distance below the city we passed a vil- lage recently deserted because of the ravages of the tigers. The second day from Chieng Sen brought us to Chieng Kawng, one of the largest dependencies of the province of Nan. There we spent two very inter- esting and profitable days. I had met the governor in Chiengmai. He was delighted with my repeating 154 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO rifle, and had us try it before him. There was also his son, who not long after was to succeed the father; but his story we shall come upon some twenty years later. At this place we were fortunate in finding an empty trading-boat going to Liiang Prabang, in which the gov- ernor engaged for us passage on very reasonable terms. We left Chieng Kawng on May 3d. The trip to Liiang Prabang occupied five days, and was one of the memorable events of my life. In some respects the scenery is not so striking as that of the Me Ping rapids. The breadth of the river makes the difference. You miss the narrow gorge with overhanging cliffs and the sudden bends closing in every outlet. But, on the other hand, you have an incomparably greater river and higher mountains. I quote again from Mr. War- rington Smyth the following description of one portion of the river scenery : " The high peaks, towering 5,000 feet above the river, which give it such a sombre appearance, are generally of the very extensive limestone series. They present tremendous precipices on some of their sides, and their outlines are particularly bold. . . . Some miles above Luang Prabang the large and important tributaries of the Nam IJ and the Nam Seng enter the Me Kawng. The clear transparent water of these tributaries forms a strong contrast to the brown sediment-laden water of the Me Kawng. ... In some of the rapids with sloping bottoms, the first jump over the edge is very pleasant; the fun then comes in the short roaring waves. Everybody on board is fully occupied; the men at the bow-oar canting her head this way and that, the helmsman helping from the other end to make her take its straight, the men at the oars pulling for all they are worth, and the rest bailing mightily, or shouting to any one who has time to listen. If the rapid is a bad one, the crews land to have a meal before tackling it, and stop to chew some betel EXPLORATION 155 and compare notes after it. So it is always a sociable event My travelling companion, Dr. Vrooman, thus gives his impressions. " The current of the Cambodia is very swift, in places so much so that it was dangerous to navigate. The river is nearly a mile wide in places; and where the channel is nar- row, it rushes along with frightful rapidity. No scenery is finer throughout the entire distance we travelled on it. Mountains rise from either bank to the height of three or four thousand feet. The river fills the bottom of a long, winding valley; and as we glided swiftly down it, there seemed to move by us the panorama of two half-erect hang- ing landscapes of woodland verdure and blossom. Only as we neared the city did we see rough and craggy mountain peaks and barren towering precipices." Twenty-six years later I descended the M^ tj River from Mftang Kwii to Liiang Prabang, and then ascended it again. The perpendicular rock-cliffs at its junction with the Me Kong surpass any that I ever saw else- where. Of greater interest to me, however, than roaring rapids and towering rocks were the evidences of numerous human habitations perched far above us on the mountain sides. Rarely can their houses or vil- lages be seen ; but in many places their clearings have denuded the mountains of all their larger growth. It was tantalizing not to be able to stop and visit these people in their homes. But my first opportunity to make extensive tours among them was not till some twenty years later. As for the Me Kong, my comment is : If I wished an exciting river trip, and had a com- fortable boat, I should not expect to find a more en- 156 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO chanting stretch of three hundred miles anywhere else on the face of the earth. Luang Prabang was then the most compactly built of all Siamese cities outside of Bangkok, which, in some respects, it resembled. It differs from the other Lao cities in having no great rural population and ex- tensive rice-plains near it. Its rice supply was then levied from the hill-tribes as a tribute or tax. The city has a fine situation at the foot of a steep hill some two hundred feet high, tipped, as usual, with a pagoda. The Nam Keng there joins the Me Kong, dividing the city into two unequal portions. The view from the top of the hill is delightful. The inhabitants belong to a large branch of the Tai race, extending southward at least to Cambodia. They are called the Lao Pung Khao (White-bellied Lao), as ours, because of their universal practice of tattooing the body, are called Lao Pung Dam (Black-bellied). The Prince of Liiang Prabang was absent from the city hunting wild elephants, in which game his prov- ince abounds. The Chao Uparat gave us a hospitable welcome. Behind the city is a noted cave in a mountain, which the natives think is the abode of the very fiercest evil spirits. No doubt the real spirits are the malarial germs or the poisonous gas which later we found to be the chief danger of the Chieng Dao cave. It was in this cave that M. Mouhot, a noted French scientist, contracted the fever from which he died. The natives believed that his death was caused by his rashness in trespassing upon the domain of the spirits who preside over the cave. We were astonished at some sorts of fish displayed in the market, such as I never saw anywhere else. Mr. Mc- Carthy tells of assisting at the capture of one, a pla EXPLORATION 157 buk, seven feet long, with a body-girth of four feet and two inches, and weighing one hundred and thirty pounds. We remained in Luang Prabang six days, leaving it on May 14th. I was very loath to go so soon. The people were eager for books as well as for medicine. It was the one place where Siamese books were well understood. We could have disposed of basketfuls of the Scriptures, as Dr. Peoples did twenty-four years later. It is one of the anomalies of the twentieth cen- tury that when we finally were ready to establish a Christian mission, after the country had passed from non-Christian to Christian rulers, we could not get permission. From Luang Prabang we again took boat to Ta Dfla, some sixty miles below. There we bade good-bye to the wonderful river, and turned our faces homeward. Our elephants were good travellers, the swiftest we had so far found. They gave us no chance to stroll on in advance, and rest till they should come up, as we had done before. They brought us to Nan in six days, four of which were spent in travel over high mountain ridges. Our road passed near the great salt wells; but we had no time for sight-seeing. Two experiences on this portion of the trip will not be forgotten. One was a fall from my tall elephant. A flock of large birds in covert near us suddenly flew up with loud shrill cries. I was reclining in the howdah at the time, and raised myself up to look out under the hood, and, while suspended there in unstable equilibrium, another and louder cry close at hand made the beast give a sudden start backwards, which landed me in a puddle of water. Fortunately no further dam- age was done. Another annoyance, more serious, was 158 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the land-leeches which we often encountered when we dismounted to walk. The whole ground and every shrub and twig seemed covered with the tiny creatures. Sensitive to the least noise, each one was holding on by his tail, and waving his head back and forth to lay hold of any passing animal. We soon found that they had a special fondness for the genus homo. Do what we might, every hundred yards or so we had to stop to rub them off, while the blood ran profusely from their bites. We had none of the herbs which the Muso bind on their legs to keep them off. On Saturday evening we reached Nan, the first place where I found friends since leaving Chieng Rai. Chao Borirak, whom I had met in Chiengmai, nephew of the Nan Prince, and a few others, were soon on hand to give us welcome and to offer any aid we needed. The Prince was a venerable old man, with four sons — fine men, all of them. The country was well governed, though it long continued conservative as regards the adoption of foreign ways and the welcoming of foreign traders. I fell in love with Nan at first sight, and marked it for a future mission station. On our departure from Nan, Chao Borirak accom- panied us as far as Pre, bringing his own elephants — one of them a colt, which he rode astride like a horse — the only one, in fact, that I ever saw so used. At Pre we found our government letter not very effective. Rupees, however, were effective enough to prevent any long delay. The ruling authority in Pre has always seemed weak. There was an amusing circumstance connected with an eclipse of the moon while we were there. Since the conversion of Nan Inta, I had taken pains to announce each eclipse as it was to occur. I did so in EXPLORATION 159 Pre the day before it was due. The eclipse took place early in the night, and I expected to hear the city resound with the noise of every gun and fire- cracker in the place. But everything was as quiet as a funeral. It seemed to be regarded as our eclipse. The silence may have been intended to test our asser- tion that Rahii would renounce his hold without the noise, or possibly they were unwilling to proclaim thus publicly the superior wisdom of the foreigner in predicting it. At any rate, they utterly ignored it, and let the monster have his will unmolested. My associate had gained all that could have been expected from the tour; but an aching tooth was giv- ing him great trouble, and we hurried on. We reached home on June 22d, just sixty-eight days out. We found neither family in very good health. The doc- tor's toothache drove him to such desperation that he insisted on my trying — all unpractised as I was — to extract the offending eyetooth. It broke. There was then nothing to do but to make the trip to Bangkok for the nearest professional help. By the time he re- turned, it began to be evident that he could not hope to remain long in the field. Between Bangkok, Pechaburi, and Chiengmai, I had been fifteen years in the field; and my wife had been in the country from girlhood without change. We had both endured it remarkably well, considering that we had had tbe strain of starting two new stations. Be- fore the end of the year, however, ray wife had reached the limit of her strength, and it became necessary to hurry her out of the country. So, on the 3d of Janu- ary, 1873, she was carried in a chair to the boat, and we embarked for the United States. XIV THE FIRST FURLOUGH THE tour of the previous season had been so hasty and unsatisfactory, that I was very anxious, if possible, to duplicate the homeward stretch of it as far as Nan, then descend the Pitsanulok Fork to the Menam, and so follow my family to Bang- kok. But would it be safe to leave my wife to make the river trip without me, when she was in such weak condition, and burdened with the care of four chil- dren, the youngest of whom was but two years old? I embarked and travelled with them as far as the land- ing for Lampiin — where we must separate, if I were to cross over to Nan — still uncertain as to what I ought to do. It was then Friday. We decided to stop there over Sunday, and see how matters looked on Monday morning. The quiet and rest of the boat were improving her condition somewhat; and her own bravery made up whatever was lacking there. I had secured a strong letter from the Prince, calling for the best of steersmen through the rapids, and for protection where the boat should stop for the night. So, with some anxiety, but with strong faith that the plan in itself so desirable would prosper, we separated — one party going by boat down the Me Ping, and the other going afoot across country to Lamptin. For the present we leave the wife and children, to hear their report when we meet again. 160 THE FIRST FURLOUGH 161 M J plan was to rely on getting elephants from point to point. Elephants are always very hard to get; so it seemed doubtful whether my confidence were faith or presumption. But I was remarkably favoured. At Lampiin there was not an elephant nearer than the forests, save two of the governor's own. I had trusted to his friendship, and it did not fail me. I got off in fine style next morning on the governor's two ele- phants, with a letter to all the governors on the route directing them to see that I was supplied with what- ever I needed on the journey. I felt strong in having with me, in the person of Nan Inta, so wise a teacher and such a living witness of the power of the Gospel. On our first visits it has usually seemed wise to spend much of the time in vis- iting and making known the Gospel privately to those of reputation, as we know one wise missionary did in old times. It is necessary to give the rulers a clear idea of the non-political nature of our work. In order to do this, we must show positively what our message is— not merely that we are religious teachers, but that, as such, we have a message different from all others, not antagonistic or hostile to them, but supplementing rather that which they offer. In visiting among the princely families in the old city of Lakawn we met one most interesting case. It was that of an aged bedridden Princess high in rank, who received the Gospel with all readiness of mind. By nature, habit, and grace she had been very religious. She had in her day built temples and rest-houses, had feasted Buddhist monks, and had fasted times with- out number, in order to lay up a store of merit for the great future. She hoped sometimes that she had laid up a sufficient store; but the five and the eight 162 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO commands were against her. She had killed animals; and the command is explicit, and condemns without a saviour. That the Creator of all had made these creatures for our use and benefit was a new idea. That of itself would remove much of the burden on her con- science. And as one after another of the great truths of revelation was opened up to her, particularly the doctrine of the incarnation and atonement of our di- vine-human Redeemer, it seemed as if the burden was lifted. Nan Inta was himself a living testimony that the Christian teaching can and does give instantaneous relief when simply believed. It is difficult to tell which was more touching, the sympathetic earnestness of the speaker, or the comfort it imparted to the hearer. The Princess begged us to come again and often. And neither of us found any other place so attractive. After a week spent in Lakawn, we departed on our way to Nan. The next Sunday we spent in the forest. I look back with delightful memories to the occa- sional Sabbaths thus spent in the deep forest after a busy week with no rest and no privacy — a Sabbath in solitude, away from every noise, and even every song except the music of the wind and the song of birds! We always had service with our men; and then, under the shade of some cool spreading tree, or beside a flowing brook, one could be alone and yet not alone. No one more needs such retirement than a missionary, whose work is always a giving-out, with fewer external aids for resupply than others have. The next Sunday we spent in Wieng Sa, the first of the numerous little outlying towns of Nan. On Monday we reached Nan itself, the limit of our tour in that direction. The country was well governed, the THE FIRST FURLOUGH 1G3 princes intelligent, and the common people friendly. But the special attraction that Nan had for me largely centred around one man, the Prince's nephew, Chao Borirak — the one that rode astride the young elephant to see us safe to Pre on our earlier trip, with whom we used to talk religion about the camp-fires till the small hours of the morning. We left him then ap- parently on the border land of Christianity, with strong hope that he soon would be ready to profess publicly the faith which he was almost ready to con- fess to us. His rank and connection would make him of great assistance in opening a station in Nan, which, next to Chiengmai, was the most important province in the Lfio region. Again he offered us a warm wel- come, giving up his time to visiting with us the rulers and the monasteries, in one of which his son had long been an abbot. It seemed as if Nan Inta's experience would be all that was needed to settle his faith. At his request I asked and received permission from the Prince for him again to accompany us — with his young elephant foal and her mother — five daj^s' journey to Ta It, where I was to take boat. Our walks by day and our talks by night are never to be forgotten. But the convenient season to make a public profession never came. He lived in hope of seeing a station in Nan, but died not long before the station was established. At Ta It no boat was to be had either for sale or for hire. But my face was turned toward home, and I would have gone on a raft. I had to do the next thing — to take a small dug out which the Prince got for me, and go on to Utaradit, the next town below. There I was able to purchase a boat, which I afterwards sold in Bangkok for what it cost me. Nan Inta was the steersman, and my four men rowed. Our longest stop 164 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO was at Pitsanulok, where the Siamese mission now has a station. On reaching Bangkok I was delighted to find that my family had made their long trip down the other river in safety, though not without great anxiety, and some threatened danger. Our oldest daughter had been quite ill on the way. Once they came perilously near falling a prey to a band of robbers. It was only by a clever ruse of the captain that they escaped. As soon as he caught sight of the suspicious-looking group of men on a sand-bar ahead, he had the gong loudly sounded. That and the wav- ing American flag evidently made them think that this was the leading boat of some prince's flotilla. They incontinently fled into the forest. At the next stop- ping-place our boatmen learned that it was, indeed, a marauding band that had committed many depreda- tions on passing boats. What a merciful preservation ! We spent a few weeks in Bangkok, resting and vis- iting in the home of my father-in-law, Dr. Bradley, of sainted memory. It proved to be the last time that we ever saw him. He lived only a few months after that. In fifteen years the world had moved. Going round " the Cape," even in a good clipper ship like the David Brown, had become too slow. We took, instead, the steamship Patroclus from Singapore to London, via the Suez Canal. The Rev. Mr. Keyesberry, a mis- sionary friend of Dr. Bradley's, had been waiting to find an escort to England for two young sons and a daughter. We gladly undertook that service, and so had a flock of seven young folks to look after ! We were barely under way when our own children broke out with the measles. The disease, fortunately, proved to be of a mild type, and our new charges were THE FIRST FURLOUGH 1G5 not hard to manage. So, on the whole, we got along very well. In London we had unexpected trouble be- cause the friend who was to meet Alice Keyesberry at the dock failed to appear, and, strangely enough, we had received no memorandum of her destination. It cost us two days' search to discover her friends at the Walthamstow Mission School. The boys I had promised to convoy as far as Edin- burgh. So, leaving my family in London, I had the great pleasure of a visit to the beautiful Scotch cap- ital. The day spent there was to me a memorable one. It was, however, a matter of great regret that, being so near the Highlands, I could not also visit the original home of my ancestors. We arrived in New York on July 11th, 1873, after an absence of fifteen years. Under any circumstances fifteen years would work great changes. But that particular fifteen had included the Civil War. The changes in the South were heart-rending. Though North Carolina was drawn late into the Confederacy, it is said that she furnished a larger number per capita of soldiers and had a larger num- ber of casualties than any other state in the South. The havoc among my old schoolmates and pupils, and among my flock, was distressing. In many places, too, the sectional feeling was still bitter. The wisest of the people, however, were becoming fully reconciled to the results of the war. The largest slaveholder in my own section assured me that the freeing of his slaves had been a boon to him, and that he was clear- ing more from his old farm under free labour than he had done before with slaves. Unfortunately in the churches the feeling was more bitter. My old associate, Dr. Mattoon, had accepted 166 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the presidency of Biddle Institute at Cliarlotte — now Biddle University (colored). For a time he was very coldly received except by such broad-minded men as his old Princeton classmate, and my friend, Dr. Charles Phillips. By virtue, however, of his noble Christian character and his conservative bearing, Dr. Mattoon overcame these prejudices, and lived to be welcomed jn the largest churches in the state. I spent most of my furlough in North Carolina; and personally I received a welcome almost as warm as if I were a mis- sionary of the Southern Board. Returned missionaries were not numerous then. It was not an uncommon thing for me to lecture in churches which had never before seen the face of a foreign missionary. Soon after our arrival in the United States news came of the resignation of Dr. Vrooman ; and my first duty was to find a successor. For myself, and even for my family, I could endure to return without one. But I could not face the distressing appeals from the sick whose ailments I was powerless to relieve. In my vis- its among friends in North Carolina I met a young medical graduate, Dr. M. A. Cheek, who received from warm friends of the mission flattering recommenda- tions for the place. He himself was pleased with the opening, and would willingly accept it, if he could first take a graduate course in surgery. This was easily arranged, and he was ready to return with us the fol- lowing summer. The hardest thing to face was the parting with our children. But the bitterness of this pang was soft- ened by the kindness of friends which opened the best of Christian homes and schools to receive them. We can never sufficiently express our gratitude for the kindness shown us in this matter by the late Mrs. E, THE FIRST FURLOUGH 1G7 N. Grant and Miss Mitchell of the Statesville Female College, and to Mrs. McNeill, the widow of my old pastor. These two great questions settled, we left North Carolina in March, 1874 — my wife with the two younger children, to visit friends and relatives in the North ; and I, as I hoped, to visit the churches and the seminaries in search of recruits. But a cold con- tracted on the trip north ran into a dangerous attack of pleuropneumonia, followed by a slow recovery. Thus I missed my visits to the seminaries and the meeting of the General Assembly in St. Louis. The return to the field was by way of San Fran- cisco, and we reached Bangkok on August 27th, 1874. On November 14th a son was given us to take the place o4 the children left behind. In December be- gan our river journey to Chiengmai. The river was low, and we were a month and a day from Bangkok to Raheng. There we found four missionaries of the Nova Scotia Baptist Board seeking to establish a sta- tion among the Karens of Siam, But they found their villages too small and too widely scattered to justify the establishment of a station. So they were return- ing to Burma. On Saturday night we all dined to- gether, and had a sociable hour. On Sunday evening we drew up our boats side by side, and had a prayer- meeting that we shall long remember. There was something delightful in thus meeting and enjoying Christian fellowship on a sand-bar, and then passing on to our respective fields of work. Some of these men afterwards went to India, and started the Telegu mission, which has had phenomenal success. There were still the rapids and four more weeks of travel before we could reach our Lao home. But 168 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the home-coming at last was delightful. Our faithful old coolie, Lung In, with his wife, met us in a small boat three days' journey below Chiengmai, with fruit and fowls lest we should be in want. Then the tall figure of Nan Inta, with his face like a benediction ! It was February 7th, 1875, when at last we drew up alongside our own landing-place, and felt the warm handshake of old friends. Among the Lao at last! — and no place that we had seen would we exchange for our Lao home. For the first time since our ar- rival in 1867 we had a permanent house to enter ! XV MUANG KEN AND CHIENG DAO DR. CHEEK'S arrival was a matter of great re- joicing. He was very young — only twenty- one, in fact, on the day he sailed from San Francisco. The trying drudgery that he and others of our early medical missionaries had to endure, is now in great measure obviated through the help of native assistants. The remainder of the year 1875 I de- voted very largely to assisting in the medical work, in- terpreting, helping in operations, and caring for the souls of the numerous patients, without feeling the weight of responsibility for their physical condition, as I had done before. Dr. Cheek came out a single man; but, like others before him, he lost his heart on the way. Toward the end of that year he went down to Bangkok, and was married to Miss Sarah A. Brad- ley. He returned to Chiengmai just as Mr. Wilson was ready to start for the United States on his second furlough. The April communion was postponed a week that the newly-arrived and the departing mission- aries might commune together before separating. It was Mrs. Wilson's last communion with us. In May, 187G, Nan Inta was ordained our first ruling elder. The story has often been told that before his ordination the Confession of Faith was given him to read carefully, since he would be asked whether he subscribed to its doctrines. When he had finished the 170 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO reading, he remarked that he saw nothing peculiar in its teachings. It was very much like what he had read in Paul's Epistles ! In January Pa Kamun, the widow of Noi Sunya, was baptized. It was thus appropri- ately given to her to be the first woman received into the communion of the church. Two of her daughters, and Pa Peng, the wife of Nan Inta, soon followed. Lung In was elected the first deacon, but was too mod- est to be ordained to that ofiice. Meanwhile he was becoming a most useful assistant in the hospital. Strange as it may seem, the office of hospital nurse is one of the most difificult to get a Lao to fill. Lung In, however, was not above the most menial service for the sick. His real successor was not found until the present incumbent. Dr. K6o, was trained. Dr. Mc- Kean's testimony is that it would be scarcely more difficult to procure a good surgeon than to fill Keo's place as nurse and assistant among the hospital pa- tients. During the summer of 187G, in company with Nan Inta, I made a tour among the four nearest provinces to the north and west. The governor of Huang Ken had long given promise of becoming a Christian, and now invited me to visit his people. On his frequent visits to Chiengmai on business, he always called on me, and no subject was so interesting to him as the subject of religion. Before the proclamation of tol- eration, while the common people were still afraid of making a public profession of Christianity, our most effective work was probably that with the higher class of officials, who stood in somewhat less fear of the known antagonism of the Chao Uparat. They were, besides, a more interesting class than the common people, for they were better educated, were more ac- MUANG KEN AND CHIENG DAO 171 customed in their daily duties to weigh arguments and decide on questions of evidence, and many of them had been trained in the religious order. This governor of Mtiang Ken had learned enough of the tenets of Christianity to become unsettled and dis- satisfied with the prospects of salvation offered by a purely ethical religion. He saw the weakness of the foundation on which he had been taught to rely, and the difference between the authors of the two religions. So he stood on the border land between the two, at the very gate, wishing to enter in, but with many ob- stacles in his way, and strong opposing influences to overcome. My first objective, then, on this tour was Mfiang K^n. The governor had asked me to come and smooth the way for him by teaching his under-ofBcials and his townsmen. Nan Inta was the living, concrete argu- ment, and he put his whole heart into it. We had a few days of deeply interesting work. Few, however, saw the matter as the governor did. Most of them " would consider it." Some would go further and say that they worshipped Jesus under the name of their promised Buddha Metraya, yet to come. From Miiang Ken we went to Chieng Dao, where we visited the great cave with its famous Buddhist shrine. Ever since Nan Inta became a Christian, he had been anxious to test the truth of some of the legends connected with the place — a thing he dared not do before. The cave is the abode of the great Lawa spirit, for fear of offending whom Prince Kawilorot was afraid to allow us to build to the north of the city bridge in Chiengmai. Chieng Dao moun- tain, which rises above the cave, is seven thousand one hundred and sixty feet high — one of the highest 172 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO peaks in all Slam, and visible from Cliiengmai, some thirty-seven miles away. One of the sources of the Md Ping River, twenty feet wide and knee-deep, flows bodily out from the cave. Since no animal is allowed to be killed in so sacred a place, the stream abounds in a great variety of beautiful fish waiting for the food which no visitor fails to give them. The scramble for it is as interesting to watch as the performance of the sea-lions at San Francisco. The legend is that no one can cross the stream in- side the cave and return alive; and that beyond the stream, under the crest of the mountain, there is an image of pure gold seven cubits high. One enters the cave at a little distance from the stream, and finds first a grand chamber which is a veritable temple, with arched dome, natural pulpit, and innumerable images of Buddha, large and small. This place is regarded as a most sacred shrine. Buddhist monks are always there performing their devotions. The chamber is so dark that they have to use tapers to see to read. The dim light and the long-drawn tones of the worshippers produce a very weird impression. From the temple-chamber narrow passages lead off in different directions, till there is danger of losing one's way in the labyrinth. I followed Nan Inta and his sons to the stream, which is reached at some distance farther on. Being neither tall nor a swim- mer, I stopped and sauntered about in the various rooms, waiting for my companions to verify or to dis- prove the legend. Needless to say, both parts of it were proved myths. My companions did return alive, and no golden image was found. The cave is too damp to make it safe for one to remain long in those distant passages. Farther on the tapers burned but MUANG KEN AND CHIENG DAO 173 very dimly ; and one would not choose to be left there in pitch darkness. We could understand very well how the legend arose of Yaks that devour those that intrude into their dark caverns. There is no doubt of the presence of a deadly gas much more to be feared than the spirit of the great Lawa king, which is believed to have taken up his abode there. We all experienced more or less of the symptoms premoni- tory of malarial attack, and before we got back to the town Nan Inta was shaking with a genuine chill. A heroic dose, however, of Warburg's tincture with quinine soon set him to rights. In this case, then, as in many others, there is a foundation of truth at the bottom of the legend. That night we had a great audience. It was gen- erally known that we intended to explore the cave, and many, no doubt, came to see how we had fared. It was well that Nan Inta had so far recovered from his morning's chill as to be ready to join in bearing testi- mony not only to the falsity of the legend, but also to the truth of the Gospel. It was a bright moonlight night, and the people listened till very late, while we sang hymns, preached the Gospel, and pointed them to the better way. The result was seen years after in the founding of a church there. All these provinces that we were now visiting, and others more distant still, were originally settled by refugees driven from the more southern districts by the persecution for witchcraft. Now they are important provinces. Since these people had been ruthlessly driven forth because of the spirits, I thought they would willingly accept any way of escape from their control. But they seemed, if anything, more super- stitious and harder to reach than others. Having suf- 174 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO fered once, as thej supposed, from the malicious power of the spirits, they seemed even more than others to dread to incur their anger again by deserting them. But there were many hopeful exceptions. Mfiang Pao was the next city visited. From the in- cidents of our stay there I select the cases of two persons who excited our deepest sympathy. One was an aged Buddhist monk, a Ngio, who, with a younger companion, visited our tent daily. The monk was a venerable man, with striking features, serene coun- tenance, earnest and intelligent. His long life had been spent in worship, meditation, and study. All this he soon told us with some quite natural pride. While not bold, he was not reticent, freely stating his own doctrines, hopes, and fears, and asking ours. To the question what were his hopes for a future life, he frankly said, " I don't know. How can I ? I have tried to keep the commandments, have performed my devotions, have counted my beads. But whether I shall go up or down [indicating the directions with his finger] I do not know. I have done what my books tell me, but I have no light here [pointing to his heart]. Can the teacher's religion give me any light?" The earnestness and the despondency of the man drew me to him. I asked, what of his failures and transgressions? "That," he said, "is the dark point. My books say that all my good deeds shall be re- warded, but the failures and transgressions must be punished before I can reach Nirvana, the final emancipation of the soul by the extinction of all de- sire." "How long will that be?" we ask. He an- swered by giving a number that would baffle even astronomers, who are accustomed to deal in almost fabulous numbers. MUANG KEN AND CHIENG DAO 175 "But is not that virtually endless?" "Yes; but what shall we do? That is what our books say." "But is there no room for pardon?" " No. Buddha only points out the way that he fol- lowed himself. He reached the goal by the same al- most endless journey. How shall we hope to do so by any shorter or different route ? " " But supposing there is a way— that there is a great sovereign of the universe, before all Buddhas and higher than all Buddhas, who has the right and the authority to grant full pardon through his own in- finite merit, and his vicarious assumption of all our obligations and payment of all our debts. Would not that be a joyful message?" " Yes ; if true, it would be." And so we argued till light seemed to gleam for once into his mind. But the image of the dear old man pointing up and then down with the sad confession, " I know not whither I shall go," is a vision that has sad- dened me many a time since. The other case of special interest I state as it oc- curred, with no attempt at explanation of the dream involved in the story.— On the morning after our ar- rival. Nan Inta and I started out to visit monasteries or houses, wherever we might find listeners. I was dressed in white clothes, and Nan Inta had on a white jacket. We had made a number of calls, and were about to pass by a house in which we saw only an elderly woman and some children, presumably her grandchildren. We were surprised to see her come down from her house and run out a^ter us, and prostrating herself with the customary salutation'given to priests and princes, she begged us to stop and come 17G AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO in. We accepted her invitation, though surprised at her evident demonstrations of joy. Sitting down on the mat, we began to explain that we were teachers of religion, pointing out the sure way of happiness both in this life and in the life to come. Our mes- sage was one from the great God and Creator to all races and nations, inviting them to return from all other refuges, and He would give them an inheritance as His children in the life to come. She listened with marked interest as we explained to her our religion, and urged her to accept it. We were surprised at the explanation she gave of her intense interest. Not long before our arrival she had a dream that two men dressed in white came to her to teach her. What they were to teach her she did not know; but when she saw us walking up the street she said, " There is the fulfilment of my dream ! " She had watched us as we entered other houses, fearful lest we should omit hers. Now she was so glad we had come. It was at least a strange coincidence, for she affirmed that the dream was before she had ever heard of us. Whatever may have been the cause, it was a delight to instruct one who seemed to receive all that we said as a direct message to her. This at once attracted Nan Inta to her, and she listened to him with frequent exclama- tions of delight, while he, in his earnest manner, ex- plained the Gospel message of pardon and life eternal through Him who liveth and was dead, and behold He is alive for evermore. She said her one great desire had been to escape from the punishment of her sins; but she never before had known that there was any other way but to suffer for them herself. She, too, was a Ngio. We visited her frequently during the week of our stay in Mfiang Pao, and to the last she MUANG KEN AND CHIENG DAG 177 interpreted our coming as the fulfilment of her dream. This was the last that we knew either of her or of the aged monk. Before we visited the place again she was dead, and he had moved away. In those days when the people were afraid to make a public profession of Christianity, it would have been a great gain to the mission if we could have had schools, and used them as a means of evangelizing the youth. A first attempt, indeed, had been made by Mr. Wilson with a few Burmese boys. A young Burmese who had been trained in Maulmein, and who spoke English, was employed to teach them under Mr. Wil- son's oversight, in the hope that Lao boys would pres- ently join them. This hope was not realized, and the experiment was presently abandoned. The first call for a Christian school was for the education of girls. In the first Christian families girls predominated. Mrs. McGilvary collected six or eight Christian girls, and devoted as much time to them as her strength and her family duties would permit. They were really private pupils, living on our premises and in our family. More wished to come than she could do justice to. Hence about this time an appeal was made for two single ladies to devote their whole time to the school. But it was not till four years later that Miss Edna E. Cole and Miss Mary Camp- bell of the Oxford Female Seminary, Ohio, reached Chiengmai. Very soon they had twenty pupils. From this small beginning has grown our large Girls' School. Two of Mrs. McGilvary's pupils were soon made as- sistants. These and others of the first group became fine women, who have left their mark on the church and the country. Notwithstanding our disappointment in the delay 178 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO of the school for boys, it proved a wise arrangement that the Girls' School was started first. A mission church is sure to be greatly handicapped whose young I men must either remain single — which they will not do \ — or be compelled to take ignorant non-Christian wives. Such are a dead-weight to the husband, and the chil- dren almost surely follow the mother. After mar- riage, the almost universal custom of the country has been that the husband lives with the wife's family. He becomes identified with it, and for the time a sub- ordinate member of it, almost to the extent of becom- ing weaned from his own family. Where all the at- mosphere of the family is strongly Buddhist, with daily offerings to the spirits and gala days at the tem- ple, the current would be too strong for a father, with his secondary place in the family, to withstand. For a while it was feared that Christian girls would have diflSculty in finding husbands. But, on the contrary, our educated girls become not only more intelligent, but more attractive in manners, dress, and character; and, therefore, have been much sought after. The homes become Christian homes, and the children are reared in a Christian atmosphere. The result is that, instead of the wife's dragging the husband down, she generally raises the husband up; and, as a general rule, the children early become Christians. In August, 1876, our beloved Princess became very seriously ill. Dr. Cheek had been called upon to treat domestics in the family, but not the Prince or Princess. Hearing that she was in a critical condi- tion under native doctors, and fearing the worst, I took the liberty of suggesting that they consult Dr. Cheek. They seemed pleased with the suggestion, and asked me to accompany him — which I did for one or MUANG KEN AND CHIENG DAO 179 two visits. His treatment was very successful, and soon she was convalescent. About this same time we had an adventure with white ants which came near costing us our much- valued cabinet organ. It will serve to illustrate an experience formerly common enough, and still not un- known. One Wednesday evening before prayer-meet- ing Mrs. McGilvary sat down at the instrument to look over the tunes, when she found it full of white ants. Our house was built on higher ground, into which the creatures are driven when the lower grounds are filled with water from the annual floods. They do not at- tack the teak walls and floors of our houses, but, climbing up the posts, at last they stumbled upon the soft wood and leather inside the organ, and were just beginning their feast when our meeting broke in upon them. Had we not discovered them then, the instru- ment would have been completely wrecked before morning. Once the white ants destroyed a trunkful of our children's clothes, once a box of " knock-down " chairs, and once they attacked my library — evidently not at all deterred by the learned discussions and deep thought of Dr. Joseph A. Alexander's Commentary on Isaiah. They had got through the margin, and would soon have digested the rest, had not an unexpected occasion for opening the library saved it. XVI SEEKERS AFTER GOD ON New Year's Day, 1877, I went into the city to make some calls. The first was at the new palace. In the large reception hall I found the Princess, virtually alone. She was embroidering some fancy pillow-ends for the priests — a work in which she was an expert. Her maidens, some distance off, were sewing priests' robes. The Prince was in his little workshop not far off, turning ivory rounds for the railing of an elephant howdah, a favourite amuse- ment with him. The subject of religion was one that continually came up in all my interviews with the Princess ; but hitherto she had apparently argued more for victory than from a desire to reach the truth. She was as keen as a lawyer to seize a point, and her quick wit made her a very enjoyable antagonist. Not only she and her domestics, but the whole country as well, had been preparing for a great occasion of merit-making in con- nection with the approaching dedication of a shrine. Whether the peculiar interest of this conversation was due to the fact that these matters had been running in her mind, or to some particular mood in which I found her, I never knew. Most likely it was both. A chance allusion to the great event which was in every one's mouth, at once brought up the question. Stop- ping her work and resting her arms on the embroidery 180 SEEKERS AFTER GOD 181 frame, she asked, ''Why is it that foreigners do not worship the Buddha or his images, and do not believe that merit is made thereby?" She seemed to approach the question as a personal one for herself. If we were right and she were wrong, she would like to know it. We agreed on that point, and 1 encouraged her in her estimate of its paramount importance to every rational man or woman. If Buddhism does, indeed, lead to happiness in a future life, she was wise in diligently following its precepts ; but if wrong, it would be a fatal mistake. Why do we not worship Buddha? Because he was only a man. We reverence his character, as we do that of other upright men who have tried to do good and to lead their fellow-men to better things. Gautama Buddha seems to have sought with all his soul for light— was willing to forsake a kingdom and to renounce all sensual and even intellectual pleasures in this life for the hope of escaping sin and its consequences in the next. Why do we worship Jehovah- Jesus? Because He is our sovereign Lord. The Buddha groaned under his own load of guilt, and was oppressed by the sad and universal consequences of sin among men. The Christ challenged His enemies to convince Him of sin, and His enemies to this day have confessed that they find no sin in Him. Buddhists believe that Buddha reached Nirvana after having himself passed through every form of being in the universe — having been in turn every animal in the seas, on the earth, and in the air. He did this by an inexorable law that he and every other being is subject to, and cannot evade. Our Je- hovah-Jesus, as our Scriptures teach, is the only self- existent being in the universe, and Himself the cause 182 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO of all other beings. An infinite Spirit and invisible, He manifested Himself to the world by descending from heaven, becoming man, taking on our nature in uni- son with His own holy nature, but with no taint of sin. He did this out of infinite love and pity for our race after it had sinned. He saw there was no other able to save, and He became our Saviour. And take the teachings of the two systems — which is the more credible? The sacred books of the Princess teach that there is no Creator. Everything, as the Siamese say, " pen eng " — comes to be of itself. All this complicated universe became what it is by a for- tuitous concurrence of atoms, which atoms themselves had no creator. We come as honest seekers for truth. We look around, above, beneath. Everything seems to imply the contrivance of mind. The sun rises and sets with greater regularity than our clocks strike the hour of noon. The seasons follow each other with wonderful uniformity. Animals are born and die, plants and trees grow and decay, each after its kind, and in won- derful adjustment to the conditions about them. The eye is made for seeing, the ear for hearing, and the air for breathing. Light is necessary for work by day, and darkness for sleep by night. This city has its walls and gates ; this palace has its beams, its roof, its doors and windows, and its difl'erent apartments, because it was so planned. The Princess gives her orders, and her servants in distant villages come at her summons. The Prince's command is obeyed throughout all his dominions. Subjects obey because they are under con- stituted authority. Even so we obey Jehovah and not I Buddha, because we believe that He is the Creator and ' the sovereign Lord of the universe. In His word — His letter to our race — He claims SEEKERS AFTER GOD 183 to be Creator and Lord. We read His word, and then we look around for evidence as to whether this is really so. We find that evidence in earth and sea and sky. A letter comes from the King of Siam. How do we know that it is really his? It has his seal. Not otherwise " the heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handiwork." By faith, then, we believe that the worlds were made, as His word tells us. We read the account of that creation. What wonderful beings we are ! — made in His image, endowed in our degrees with His own attributes, and with authority over the world in which He has placed us. He has given us dominion over all the beasts of the earth, the fowls of the air, and the fish of the sea. Every time that a Buddhist kills a fish or a fowl, he sins, because he breaks a command of his religion. Why not so for a Christian? Because these creatures were made for man's use, and were given to him. We partake with gratitude of the gifts our Father has pro- vided for us. This one great truth, when received by Christians, relieves the conscience of one of the great- est burdens that the followers of Buddha must bear. But if God made man in His image, why all this suffering that we see and feel? The best explanation ever given is that given in the Bible. Man was created holy, and was put on trial. He transgressed. A sub- ject who disobeys the law of his sovereign incurs his displeasure. He suffers for it. We are suffering from this disobedience of our first parents by a law that we daily see exemplified. A man by extravagance or vice squanders his estate. His children are born penniless. The Prince of Wieng Chan rebelled against the King of Siam. His country was conquered and laid waste, and thousands of its inhabitants were made captive 184 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO and deported. Thousands of the descendants of these captives are now serfs. Why are they so? Because of the errors or misfortunes of their ancestors. The Prince appoints a governor over a province, with the promise that if he is faithful, his children shall suc- ceed him. Because of misdemeanor he is deposed. His descendants are born subjects and not rulers. We belong to a fallen race. Somana Gautama belonged to the same race. He groaned under its pains and penalties. He saw a race sunk in misery. He saw its religion shamefully cor- rupt. He inaugurated one of purer morality. But he does not profess to be divine or a saviour. His religion does not offer a sufiScient remedy. By asceticism and self-mortification it would extinguish all noble desire as well as the vicious instincts with which we are born. And then, after interminable cycles of transmigrations, we may hope to reach a state of unconscious sleep. Happiness and misery are inseparable things. We escape the one only by escaping the other. That is the dark prospect which makes Buddhism so pessimistic. To this the Princess assented, " That is so." Now compare this with the religion of Jesus. The sovereign Father who loves His wandering, sinful chil- dren, in His infinite wisdom devised a plan that satis- fies their needs and desires, " God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in Him should not perish, but have everlasting life." Our Maker became our Redeemer by emptying Himself of His glory and becoming man. He is Himself the greatest possible illustration of the love of God to the race. He came to reveal the Father. His holy life we have in His word. He set us the only perfect ex- ample, full of pity toward the miserable and the sinful. SEEKERS AFTER GOD 185 Then, by a painful and shameful death, He became Himself a sacrifice for the sins of the world. He obeyed the law which we had broken, and which con- demns us; and suffered in our stead the penalty due to us. He conquered death. He took away the sting of death by taking away sin. He arose from the dead showing Himself for many days. He ascended to heaven before the eyes of His disciples. He has sent His servants and His word to offer a full and free pardon to all who will accept. He is now, and ever will be, our intercessor in heaven. He sends His Spirit to purify and fit us for an endless state of conscious existence which begins at death, and not cycles after. Millions of the best men and women the world has ever seen have given their testimony to the reality of this salvation by a triumphant death, with the assur- ance that all sin and all suffering were past. Jesus removed the curse, and brought to light the immortality which we had forfeited by sin. The missionary and his associates have left both parents and children that they might offer this to the Princess and to her people. To all of this the Princess was mainly a most in- terested listener. She had asked to be taught. She put no captious questions. I have omitted an occa- sional assent that she gave, and an occasional difficulty or doubt— not all of which could be fully answered ; as, for example, why an all-powerful God allowed the en- trance of sin, and now allows wicked spirits to tempt us; or that other sad question, why the Gospel had not been sent to them, so that they might have known this from childhood— a question the burden of which should press on my readers as well as on the missionary. At last, after a long pause, the Princess made a won- 186 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO derful confession, the very words of which I can never forget : " Ta chak wa dui kwam ching, ka han wa paw krti ko tiik leo." To speak the truth, I see that the father- teacher is right. " Ka chtia wa kong chak mi Pra Chao ton dai sang lok." I believe there surely must be some divine Lord who made the world. " Le bat ni ko chtia ti paw krii atibai dui kan pon tot doi Pra Yesu." And now I believe what the father-teacher has explained about escape from punishment through the Lord Jesus. And then, sadly — almost despairingly — she added, " T^ chak yia cha dai?" But what shall I do? — I fear it will not be well to forsake " hit paw hoi me " — the cus- toms of my father, the foot-prints of my mother. We were sitting in the new brick palace — the first ever built in the country. In the hall was a large pier-glass with numerous other foreign articles, most of them bought in Bangkok, and brought up for offer- ings at the coming dedication of the shrine. I asked, " Princess, did your father or grandfather have a brick palace like this?" Somewhat surprised at the ques- tion, she replied, " No." " And I see the Princess riding down to the landing every day in a foreign car- riage. Did your ancestors do that?" Before I could make the application, she blushed, perceiving that she was caught. I went on : " You do daily forsake old customs, and adopt new ones which your ancestors never knew. The whole method of government is changing. This foreign cloth, which your maidens are sewing for priests' robes, was all unknown to your forefathers. These things all come from lands where the people worship neither the Buddha nor the spirits. These are only some of the fruits that grow on the tree. Better still, plant the tree ; for all good fruit grows on SEEKERS AFTER GOD 187 it." Just then our long conversation was interrupted by the entrance of the Prince, who had worked till he was tired. He asked what she and the teacher were talking about so long. She replied that we were dis- cussing " bun le bap " — merit and sin. The question often came up after this. She was in a position where it was, humanly speaking, almost im- possible for her outwardly to forsake the customs of the country. But I have reason to know that on that morning she received truths which she never forgot. We have seen before that neither she nor her husband approved of her father's act in murdering the Chris- tians. She continued a warm friend to the last, and so did the Prince. On my way home that same forenoon I had another interesting talk with our dear old friend, the abbot of the tjmong monastery, who had been so true to us dur- ing our troubles. On the gate-posts, as I entered, were offerings of fruit, rice, betel, etc., to propitiate the spirits. This is in flat violation of one of the funda- mental precepts of Buddhism, which declares that any one who makes offerings to spirits is outside of the pale, or, as we should say, is virtually excommunicate. Of course, my abbot friend exculpated himself from all complicity in the offerings. He himself neither wor- shipped nor feared the spirits. But his disciples and parishioners did, and he could not withstand them. He, too, never gave up the form of Buddhism, but he claimed that he worshipped Jesus daily as the great Creator and Benefactor of our race. His merit he be- lieved to be infinitely greater than that of Buddha, whom he knew to be a man. The abbot was a man of broad mind, and a true and faithful friend. It is well that it is not for us to say how much of error 188 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO is consistent with true discijjlesbip, even in Christian lands. I know that his deep-rooted friendship for us was because we were teachers of a religion that offered hopes which Buddhism does not give. I have in mind many others, also, who believed our doctrine, though they were never enrolled in our church ; and not a few that would urge others of their family and friends to take, as Christians, the open stand which, from various causes, they themselves were prevented from taking. But the Lord knoweth them that are His. The great event of the year 1877 was the dedication of a Buddhist shrine recently rebuilt on Doi Sutep, the noble mountain which is the pride and glory of Chiengmai. From the level of the plain, and at a distance of but four miles westward from the city, the mountain rises in a single sweep four thousand five hun- dred feet, forest-crowned to its very summit, seamed with rushing brooks, and embroidered with gleaming waterfalls. In the rainy season the play of cloud and vapor, of sunshine and storm about its mighty mass, forms an ever-changing picture of surpassing beauty and grandeur. The Siamese and the Lao are very fond of an imposing setting and a commanding view for their temples and shrines — on bold promontories by sea or river, on high knolls and summits. The one on Doi Sutep crowns a projecting shoulder or bastion of the mountain, some half-way up, and visible from all parts of the Chiengmai plain. Each reigning Prince has been desirous of doing something to beautify and enrich this shrine. To rebuild it was, therefore, an attractive idea to Prince Intanon at the beginning of his rule. To do honour to the occasion, and to make merit thereby, all the northern states, as far east as Luang AN ABBOT PREACHING SEEKERS AFTER GOD 189 Prabang, sent their highest officials with costly offer- ings; and the government of Siam sent a special rep- resentative. For weeks and months previously the whole country had been placed under requisition to make preparations. Offerings were levied from every town, village, and monastery, and, I believe, from every household. Each guest of honour had a temporary house built for him at the foot of the mountain, with smaller shelters for persons of less rank. Nearly all the princes and nobles of Chiengmai joined the en- campment at the base of the mountain, and thither, also, was the city market removed, so that our house- keepers had to send four miles to market ! I had intended to pitch a tent near the encamp- ment, so as to be near the people for missionary work. But a rheumatic attack during the opening days of the festival prevented. Still, we had as many visitors at home as we could attend to, and under conditions more favourable for missionary work. Such occasions are very attractive to the Lao peo- ple. For the time being the prohibition against gambling is removed, and they make the most of it. It may seem a queer way of making merit, but the theory is that their merit earns them the right to a good time for once. Thousands of rupees change hands on such occasions. The mornings are given to making offerings, the afternoons to boxing and games, and the nights to theatricals and gambling. I was glad that I was prevented from pitching my tent in the midst of the noise and revelry. All those inter- ested in religion were the more free to call and con- verse with us apart from the princes and the rabble. Officers and monks from a distance were always espe- cially welcomed, and few of them in those days re- 190 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO turned to their homes without calling on the foreign teacher. I did not get off on a long tour that season, being unable to secure an elephant. It was better so, how- ever, for early in May Dr. Cheek went to Bangkok to consult a physician, and went on thence as far as Hongkong. It was April 30th of the next year before he got back to Chiengmai. And the season proved to be one of the most unhealthy in the history of the mission. Worst of all, we had only six bottles of quinine to begin the season with. There was a rush for the quinine, and it seemed cruel to withhold it so long as any was left. The fever was of a violent type, and often fatal. Native doctors were helpless be- fore the scourge. On looking about me for a sub- stitute for quinine, I found that arsenic was the next best remedy, and that Fowler's Solution was the best form for administering it. But we had not a drop of the solution. We had, however, a bottle of arsenious acid, and a United States Dispensatory, so that I had to become pharmacist as well as doctor. I had all the ingredients save one, an unessential colouring matter. So I made it up by the quart. But it was not a medi- cine to be trusted in native hands. They were accus- tomed to take their own medicine by the potful, and had the theory that if a little is good, a great deal would be better. XVII THE RESIDENT COMMISSIONER IN this same year, 1877, there occurred an event of utmost importance to the mission and to the whole country. We have seen that, up to the death of Prince Kawilorot, those Lao provinces which are now a part of Siam had been virtually free states. The Siamese yoke had been very easy. They had never been conquered in war. Their original association with Siam had been a voluntary one, in order to escape the oppressive rule of Burma. Their location and their weakness made it a necessity that they should look to one of these rival kingdoms for protection against the other. At the same time, they added both dignity and strength to the one on which they leaned —they served it as a buffer against the other. Nature had connected the Lao country more intimately with Siam. All its communication with the sea was through the Menam Chao Praya and its tributaries, while a range of lofty mountains separated it from Burma. In race and language too, they were Siamese, and not Burmese. The relation had been mutually beneficial. Both parties recognized the advantages of the arrangement, and were satisfied. The balance of real advantage had been to the weaker states. Their chiefs, indeed, were required to make triennial visits to the Siamese cap- ital, to present there a nominal tribute, and to renew their oath of allegiance. But with this exception they 191 192 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO were virtually free. In his own country the Prince had absolute rule. The Siamese had never interfered with, or assumed control of, the internal affairs of the North Lao states. It will be remembered that the sanction of the Siamese government to the establish- ment of the mission was given only after the Lao Prince had given his. It was probably an inevitable result that the stronger power should in time absorb the weaker. And the course of events had been tending that way. The for- ests of teak on the upper branches of the Menam were too valuable to be concealed or to remain profitless. The world needed the timber, and was willing to pay for it. The country needed its value in money. The Burmese of Maulmein, who were British subjects, had skill in working out the timber, which the Lao had not. With money and valuable presents they tempted the Lao rulers, who formerly had absolute authority over the forests, to grant them concessions to cut the timber and market it in Bangkok. Both parties were avaricious, and both were probably crooked. Larger bribes sometimes induced a Lao ruler to issue a sec- ond concession to work a forest already assigned to an earlier applicant. The result was a constant suc- cession of lawsuits brought by British subjects against the Lao. Since the Lao states were dependencies of Siam, the Siamese government was often called upon to enforce judgment against them; while the Lao felt that the Siamese suzerainty ought to shield them from such attack. Siam was now come to be in fact the buffer between the Lao and the outside world. In- stead of the pleasant relations which had hitherto ex- isted between the two peoples, there was now constant friction. THE RESIDENT COMMISSIONER 193 Up to the time when Prince Kawilorot gave his pub- lic and oflScial promise before the United States Consul and the representative of the Siamese government, in the little sala at the landing-stage of Wat Cheng in Bangkok, no foreign power other than the English had had any claim on the Lao or any contact with them. It was only the impolitic act of killing the Christians which brought the Lao Prince into conflict with the representative of the United States government. The fact that it was the missionaries who were immediately concerned had nothing to do with the question. Had the agreement been made with American citizens in any other capacity or business, the obligation would have been the same. The Siamese government recog- nized the obligation, and, as we have seen, guaranteed the continuance of the mission. And that guarantee was an additional reason for having an oflScial repre- sentative of Siam resident in Chiengmai. Had the new Prince been as strong as he was mild and good, and had the Chao Uparat been like him, it is possible that the old feudal relation might have con- tinued another generation or two. No doubt the Siamese government thoroughly trusted the loyalty of the new Prince; but it did not regard him as a man sufficiently strong to hold the reins of power at that juncture. Moreover, all the business of ruling was largely given over to the Uparat; and he in a number of ways had shown his opposition to our work and his jealousy of the English and of foreigners generally. When news reached us first that a High Commissioner was appointed, and then that he was on the way, there was great anxiety to know what stand he would take with reference to Christianity. Praya Tep Worachun proved to be an admirable 194 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO selection for Commissioner. He had many of the qual- ities of a statesman. He was cool, calm, patient, and wise. Judging from the result, it is evident that his instructions were : to be conservative ; to make no rash or premature move ; and to uphold the royal authority conjointly with the old princely rule — peaceably, if possible, but firmly — till Siam could assume complete control. Meanwhile he was to follow the English plan of governing through the native rulers. He was will- ing to bide his time. Every new assumption of power on the part of Siam was reluctantly yielded by the Lao. But everything conspired to favour the policy of Siam. The Lao Prince was passive and unambitious. For the Uparat no one felt the reverence or the fear that all had felt for the late Prince Kawilorot. The Com- missioner's fairness and business integrity enabled him to maintain himself perfectly in his difficult posi- tion between the two branches of the Tai race, and amid the conflicting interests of the time. In religion the new Commissioner was a stoic. His boast was that he needed no other religion than to be loyal to his king, and upright and just in his deal- ings with men. Virtue was its own reward, and vice was its own punishment. He accepted Gibbon's con- clusion that all religions are alike good for the state, alike true for their adherents, and alike false for the philosopher. He encouraged Christianity because it taught a good morality and made good citizens. But he could see neither the possibility nor the necessity of an atonement for sin. On one point I should say we were in full accord. In his opposition to the spirit- worship of the Lao he was almost rabid. He sym- pathized deeply with the poor people accused of witch- craft, who were driven out of the country. THE RESIDENT COMMISSIONER 195 During the absence of Dr. Cheek and Mr. Wilson with their families, I should have been utterly unable to cope with the situation, had it not been for my wife's clear business talent and tact in planning. The lit- tle girls, too, had begun to show somewhat of their mother's aptitude for work. Meanwhile the fever scourge continued to spread and increase in violence. The progress of the disease was so rapid that often the person attacked would never rally at all. An interesting example of the way in which healing of the body sometimes opened the way to the healing of the soul, is seen in the case of Sen Kam, an officer who was in charge of all the irrigation works on the Doi Saket plain, and who one day was brought to my gate, as it was supposed, to die. The new medicine quickly checked his fever, and presently he began to study in Siamese the Shorter Catechism, Genesis, and the Gospel of John. In due time he returned home a believer. But his desertion from Buddhism caused such opposition in his province that his baptism was delayed. His family were so shaken that some of them wished to return to the old worship. But one young grand-daughter of twelve or thirteen years had begun to read our books and to attend our services. She refused to return to the monastery, and would run away from it to the chapel. She per- severed until she brought back the whole family into the Christian fold. In further illustration of the crowded experiences of this time, I may cite the following items from let- ters to our children, written during the latter half of the year 1877. " Last week the King sent for your father to treat a prince who had had the fever for fifteen days. During his 196 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO paroxysms his cries could be heard throughout the whole neighbourhood. In their extremity they sent for your father, and gave up the case to him with permission to remove all spirit-charms during the treatment. He is now out of danger." [Mrs. McG.] " For three weeks I have had a young prince in hospital who had attempted suicide by cutting his throat. He was a fearful sight. It did not seem possible that he could survive the night. I sewed up the wound, however, and now he is well, and apparently penitent." [D. McG.] " We are well as usual, but engrossed in work. Your father is pressed beyond measure with the work of two men. On the return of Dr. Cheek's boats, we received forty ounces of quinine; but it is going at a fearful rate. The hospital is full of patients, and there are at least one hundred more to be prescribed for daily. If I did not drop everything else and help him, he could not possibly get through the day's work." [Mrs. McG.] " Soon the quinine was all gone, and our compound was becoming a veritable lazaretto. Most of the patients were anaemic and dropsical from long-standing fever. They came, because to remain at home was to die. Then a new complication arose. Unusual symptoms began to occur that I could not account for. One morning at breakfast we were called to see a little girl who had a hemorrhage. She had no cough and had no consumption. While I was look- ing up the symptoms and cause, your mother discovered that the bleeding was from the gums. That gave us the clue. It was scurvy. I found that we had at least thirty others whose gums were similarly diseased. We began at once to give them lime-juice, and prescribed vegetables, for the lack of which they were starving. It is the invariable custom of Lao doctors in cases of fever to put the patient on a strict diet of boiled rice and dried fish. On such diet some of our patients had been living for two or three months. They might as well have been on an arctic voyage ! " [D. McG.] THE RESIDENT COMMISSIONER 197 " Day before yesterday we tried to have a picnic. A princess had promised us two elephants, but only one came. Your father took a horse. The three children and I rode the elephant. Our destination was the Doi Sutep temple. About half the way up the mountain the elephant either con- cluded that there was no fun in going up alone, or, more probably, that he had an uncomfortable load, and refused to go any further. He turned out of the road, and tried to throw the driver from his neck. The children became alarmed, and we dismounted as best we could. The chil- dren refused to try riding him again; and since we had come largely for their pleasure, we had our lunch by a brook, and returned home on foot." [Mrs. McG.] " We had an interesting incident at our December com- munion. Just as I had announced the communion hymn, I saw Chao Borirak — the Nan prince, who had twice ac- companied me with his elephant on my journeys, and for whose sake largely one of my trips to Nan had been taken — enter the room. As he had been the subject of much special prayer on our part, I could hardly command my voice sufficiently to proceed with the hymn. On my return from my furlough he had written that he would visit me at the first opportunity. His uncle, the Prince of Nan, had a grandson in danger of losing his sight from an accident. He had persuaded the Prince that possibly our medicine might help him. He brought a few presents from the Prince, and for himself had brought a gold ring with a native pearl from the Nan river. He is very anxious that I should move to Nan, but I tell him that he must wait for you. . . . With fever and death around us we have been wonderfully preserved from ' the pestilence that walketh in darkness, and the destruction that wasteth at noonday.' We have had our anxieties about the children. During the last hot season we were afraid that little Margaret would melt away, she was so thin," [D. McG.] But the labours of the year were not in vain. Dur- ing its progress Nan Suwan, who afterwards became 198 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the founder of the church in Chieng Sen, and four others who became influential ruling elders, were bap- tized. And with these was Pa Kawng, an aged slave of the Prince, who lived to be one of the Lao saints. XVIII WITCHCRAFT ON January 6th, 1878, two native converts were received into the church— Nan Si Wichai, the fine scholar who had been Dr. Cheek's teacher, and the wife of a leading elder — and with them our own daughter Cornelia. This was the bright begin- ning of the year that brought in religious toleration. One day in March, as I was sitting in my study, I was surprised to see a tall man, a stranger, with the bearing of an oflScer, enter. He pointed with both fingers to his ears, and asked if the teacher could say " Ephphatha," and open the ears of a deaf man as Jesus did. It was a strange introduction — to be ac- costed by a Lao with a quotation from Scripture in the ancient Aramaean tongue! I judged by his accent that he was from Lakawn. In answer to my enquiry as to who he was, I learned that he was a Praya, the highest rank among Lao oflBcials ; that he had formerly been first in the Lakawn court, but was not then in oflSce. But where had he received a Bible, and who had taught him? I learned that some twenty years before this he had accompanied his Prince to Bangkok, and there had met Dr. Bradley, from whom he received a copy of the Old Testament History in Siamese, and the New Testa- ment so far as it was then published. He had learned Siamese in order to be able to read and understand the 199 200 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO contents of these books. He often wished that he had lived in the time of Christ. But, having no one to guide him, he had not learned to draw the lessons that the Bible story was designed to teach. He had come to Chiengmai to get the assistance of the princes there in righting an unjust decision of the Lakawn court against him. He had heard, too, that there were teachers of a new religion; and he wished to know whether we taught as did Dr. Bradley and the books received from him. His position, his manners, his whole history, including his connection with my father-in-law, attracted me to him with un- common force. Our first interview was long and very satisfactory. His questions were such as he had long wished to put to some one who could explain them. The truth had been securely lodged in his mind. It was most interesting to see how a single new thought would illuminate it all. But what he had sown he was then reaping. While in power he doubtless had oppressed others. Once he had received " hush money " from murderers whom he should have prosecuted. If he had not taken it, he said they would have murdered him, too. His sins weighed upon his conscience. His most anxious ques- tion was whether Jesus could really save all men from all sins. When asked if Buddha could do so, he said that he never had seen any such promise in any of the scriptures. He would search again. He went to an abbot friend from whom he borrowed, as he said, " books by the armful." He looked them over with this one question in view: Is there hope of pardon of- fered to sinners? He went a second time for more. At his third coming the abbot, finding out what he was after, refused to lend to him further. But he con- WITCHCRAFT 201 fessed that his search was in vain. He argued with the monks, refuted them ; and they cast him off. Upon his arrival the Chao Uparat had promised his assist- ance in the lawsuit. When, however, he found that the Praya was becoming a Christian, he dropped him. But he had found an intercessor greater than any earthly prince. For Him he was willing to face all opposition and to bear all reproach. He was baptized on the 8th of May, just before re- turning home. The rains had already set in, and were likely greatly to impede his journey. Yet he reached Lakawn without encountering a shower. His account of it afterwards was, that whenever he saw the clouds threatening, he would wave his hands and pray that they might be dispersed. Lao Christians have not be- come befogged with doubts as to the efficacy of prayer for temporal blessings. After his return to his home, his family all became believers, and others also whom he taught. At his invitation I went over to instruct them and to administer the sacraments. Two years later the number was suflScient to warrant their or- ganization into a church, of which the Praya was made the first elder. Dr. Cheek's return at the end of April, 1878, took from my shoulders the care of the medical work — a very great burden. During his absence I had put up a hospital building of six rooms. This since then has been moved, and now forms the nucleus of the Chieng- inai Hospital. The doctor soon found himself over- whelmed with practice. He was a fine surgeon and a good doctor, and had great influence both with princes and with people. Moreover, Mrs. Cheek's inheritance of the language — like my wife's — was a great ad- vantage to them both. Only a few days after the doc- 202 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO tor's arrival we lost our valuable hospital assistant, Lung In. One evening he complained of some trouble about the heart. He talked a few moments with his family, then said he felt better and would go to sleep — and in an instant was gone. In 1878 Chieng Sen, the old abandoned city which I visited in 1872, became the theme of anxious consulta- tion on the part of the government. The Lao had taken away the inhabitants, but could not take away the land. It had become a rendezvous for robbers and lawless men from all quarters. The Western Shans from Burma were settling upon it. Slam evi- dently must repopulate the province, or lose it. It was finally agreed that one thousand descendants of the original captives should be drafted from Chiengmai, one thousand from Lakawn, and five hundred from Lampun, and sent back to reoccupy the province. Chao Noi Inta, the highest in rank of the available descend- ants of the original captive princes, was commissioned as governor. The special interest this exodus has for our narrative lies in the fact that among these re- turned captives was the family of Nan Suwan, one of our best men, and already an elder of the church. At first Nan Suwan thought of buying himself off, as many did. But when it was pointed out to him that his going would be the means of starting a church there, he readily consented to go. The governor was a warm friend of mine, and was urgent that we establish a mission and a church there before Buddhist temples could be built. The province was virgin soil. A great mortality usually attends the repeopling of deserted places and the clearing of the land. The governor was very anxious that we should WITCHCRAFT 203 send a physician. Had we gone then with five hun- dred ounces of quinine, we should have had command of the situation. As it was, Nan Suwan was furnished with some quinine, which gave him the name of doctor. Broad-minded, hospitable, kindly, and thoroughly up- right, there could have been no better selection. He became the real father of the Chieng Sen church. His family was a light in the city. His youngest daughter, Kiii Keo, one of Mrs. McGilvary's first pupils, taught most of the early Christians there to read the Scrip- tures in Siamese. The elder himself became a great favourite with the governor, who used to say that the fact of his being governor, and, therefore, under author- ity, alone prevented him from uniting with the church. Another of the returning captives was Sen Ya Wichai, the first believer in Chiengmai. He settled on the western border of the Chieng Sen plain. The Lao as a race have been in bondage to the spirits. We have already had frequent occasion to refer to the slavish fear of them among all classes, from the highest to the lowest. No event in life, from birth to the last offices for the dead, could be undertaken without con- sulting or appeasing the presiding spirits of the clan, the household, or the country. Their anger is the fruit- ful cause of every disease and calamity that flesh is heir to. In many ways this would seem a less elevating and ennobling cult than pure Buddhism. But really it has a much closer aflSnity with Christianity than has Buddhism, whether as scientifically held by the learned, or as embraced by the common people. Buddhism is too atheistic to bring it into comparison here with Christianity. It lacks the essential attribute of re- 204 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO ligion — a sense of dependence on some higher power. It belongs to a different order of thought. The spirit- cult, on the other hand, does recognize invisible powers whose good-will or ill-will brings prosperity or ad- versity. From this to one Great Spirit, who is sover- eign over all, is but another step on the same line of ascent. So their spirit-offerings come nearer the idea of propitiation than do the offerings of Buddhism, which in some quite unaccountable manner are sup- posed to bring merit to the offerer. A belief in witchcraft — that is, in the temporary or permanent residence of some evil spirit in men — has been confined to no one age or race. Its predom- inance among the northern Tai tribes is very remark- able in view of its inconsistency with Buddhism, which has long been the religion of the race. In the contest for supremacy, the spirit-cult, while it has not super- seded Buddhism, has secured the stronger hold on the people. They worship Buddha and make offerings in his temples; but they fear and dread the power of the spirits to inflict present evil. It is safer to neglect Buddha than these. And the power of a malicious spirit is most dreaded when it has taken up its abode in a human habitation. From the time of our first arrival in Chiengmai we were continually amazed to find what multitudes of people had been driven from their homes for supposed witchcraft. All the northern provinces and towns, as has already been mentioned, were largely peopled by that unfortunate class. Accusation of witchcraft had become one of the most dreaded means of oppression and persecution. It was a favourite way of getting rid of an envied rival or of a disagreeable neighbour. No family and no rank were safe from such attack. WITCHCRAFT 205 Princes, even, had fallen under its ban. When once the suspicion of witchcraft was well started, the in- dividual or the family was doomed. Our sympathies had often been aroused in behalf of these unfortunates ; but no favourable opportunity had occurred for inter- ference in any other way than by our teaching. Finally, in August, 1878, the opportunity came. I had a request from a prince of some wealth and stand- ing, that I would take under our protection Pa Seng Bun and her family, accused of witchcraft. The woman was first the under-wife of the Prince's de- ceased father, who was a man of note in his day. She had two fine boys by a subsequent husband, and a niece nearly grown. This second husband was a widower, whose former wife was suspected of dealing in the occult art; and the theory was that the evil spirit came into her family through these sons. In that season of heavy rains and flooded streams, the whole family was to be driven off — some of them surely to die on the way. The patron said that he was helpless; that no one in the land, unless it were ourselves, could shield them from that fate. I told him that we were perfectly willing to risk the anger of the spirits, only we did not wish unnecessarily to offend the prejudices of the people. He was willing to assume all legal re- sponsibility; for the rest, we might fight it out with the spirits as we pleased. After notifying the Siamese Commissioner of the situation, we brought the family to our place. That very day their house was burned down; and not a tree or bush was left standing on the premises to furnish shelter to the spirits. But that did not stop the clamour. There was then in their village a great epidemic of fever. By common consent it was agreed 206 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO that this had been caused by the evil spirit resident in the lads. With boyish curiosity they had twice or thrice gone back to visit the site of their old home, and, strange to say, after each visit a new case of sickness had occurred, which was, of course, attributed to their presence. It was vain to point out the utter ridicu- lousness of the idea, or to show that no sickness had occurred on our place since their arrival. That was easily explained. The spirit was afraid of our God, and did not dare to enter the premises. It took refuge in a large tree outside till the boys came out again, when it entered its former habitation and went with them. Finally the patron prince sent word that we must give that family up. He could endure the odium no longer. When I refused, he threatened to take the matter into court. To this I replied that I was per- fectly willing that the case be tried ; but it should not be tried before a Lao court, but before the Commis- sioner. If they could convince him that the sickness in the village was caused by a malicious spirit resi- dent in that family, they should be sent off immedi- ately. But, I added, it would be fair to make one con- dition. If the accusers failed, they should be driven off. This — as I knew it would do — put an end to the whole affair. We heard no more of it. It was a great victory in the demon controversy; and, later, as we shall see, it proved a boon to scores of helpless vic- tims. Before the arrival of the Commissioner such an outcome would have been impossible. No Lao court would have refused to expel persons so accused. The family of Pa Seng Bun proved to be a treasure, becoming one of the most influential and valuable in the Chiengmai church. XIX THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION OUR narrative has now brought us to a point where an apparently trivial circumstance be- came the occasion of an event not only of ut- most importance to us and to our work, but of far- reaching consequences to the country at large. Some- time near the middle of this year, 1878, the eldest daughter of Nan Inta was to be married to a Christian young man studying for the ministry. Both parties at that time were virtually members of our family. The expected bride was a pupil of Mrs. McGilvary's, and the groom was a private pupil of mine. The im- mediate family connections on both sides were Chris- tians. Inasmuch as this was the first Christian mar- riage in the church, we had prepared to celebrate it with a little wedding feast. Besides the Christians, a few princes and a few special friends were invited, all anxious to see a Christian marriage ceremony. Among the invited guests was Chao Tepawong, Nan Inta's liege-lord, and brother of the Uparat, We learned that the family patriarch — known to be a violent opposer of Christianity — had threatened to prevent the marriage, unless we first paid to him, as tribal head of the family, the spirit-fee originally de- signed to furnish a feast for the spirits. It was a small sum — among common people not more than six rupees. That payment would legalize marriage with- 207 208 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO out any further ceremony. In fact, the payment may be regarded as a distinctively religious act, since it recognizes the spirits as the guardians and protectors of the family. When one becomes a Christian, that allegiance is cast off. By an unwritten law or cus- tom of the country, that fee belonged to the patriarch, and he decided to exact it or make trouble. I had explained the marriage ceremony to the princes and to the Commissioner. I knew that the latter recognized the justice of our position, and I assumed that the government would support us if the patriarch caused any trouble. Sure enough, early in the morning the patriarch's loud voice was heard in our yard threatening dire pun- ishment to the family if his demand were not granted. The bride's father became alarmed, and thought we must have some ofl8cial backing, or he would surely get into trouble. The guests had arrived, and every one was on the qui vive to see which side was to win in the contest. I went to the liege-lord of the family for his sanction ; but he said it was too big a question for him to pass upon. I must go to a higher authority. It had evidently become a question that could not be settled that morning. Old Adam would have said, " Marry them and trust to the justice of your cause. Let the old patriarch whistle ! " But we teach our Christians to be obedient to the law, and we wished to avoid unnecessary trouble. So there was nothing to do but to swallow our mortification, apologize to our guests, invite them to partake of the feast, and seek legal sanction afterwards. After dinner that same day Dr. Cheek and I called upon the Commissioner. We had failed, and were come to him for advice. His sympathies were easily THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 209 enlisted, but he had no authority to interfere in local or tribal matters. He advised us to go to the Prince. We did so, meeting him and the Princess alone. Their position was like that of the Commissioner. They too, sympathized with the young couple and with us' But it raised a new question for them, and they feared to give offence. The Princess said they had been criticised by our enemies for standing by us; but if the Chao Uparat would give his sanction, no one else they thought, would dare oppose. So we went next to the Uparat ; but there we ran against a stone wall. He inwardly laughed at our predicament. He had us just where he wanted us to be. If our young people could not marry, our work would be virtually stopped. He said that no one but the King of Siam had authority to interfere in such a question. We returned home signally defeated. Next day I went alone to the Chao Uparat, and argued the justice of our case. The parties had renounced their allegi- ance to the spirits. It was clearly unreasonable to re- quire what we could not conscientiously submit to. I even begged him to come to our aid, since both the Commissioner and the Prince had said that they were sure that no one else would oppose his decision. If we were compelled, we must appeal to His Majesty the King of Siam, though we should be very reluctant to do so. Since marriage is a civil as well as a religious rite, I was 8ure His Majesty would admit the justice of our appeal. Either thinking that we would not make the appeal, or that the appeal would be in vain, he at last refused to discuss the question further.' Little did he know, nor did we then, that he was doing the best possible thing for us. I returned then to the Commissioner to report. The 210 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO' conflict which, as we have seen, was probably inevitable between the royal authority represented by the Com- missioner on the one hand, and the local rulers on the other, was becoming inevitable sooner than was an- ticipated. The Commissioner just then was himself having great trouble with officials who were restive under his authority. The Lakawn Princes had a dif- ficulty among themselves, and had come to the Com- missioner to have the case adjudicated. His decision had been unfavourable to one of the higher officials — probably the chief himself. Whoever it was, he had committed the unpardonable offence of departing to Lakawn without taking leave of the Commissioner, presumably intending to appeal to Bangkok. So that morning I found His Excellency indignant at the in suit offered to him, and, through him, to his sovereign The royal authority which he represented was chal lenged. Moreover, some of the acts of the Chao Uparat had offended him. His impressions were con firmed and strengthened by the recital of our griev ances. He advised me to write these all out in full giving specifications that could be substantiated — and such were rapidly multiplying. For, provoked at Nan Inta and his family, and emboldened with his own suc- cess in stopping the wedding, the Chao Uparat had summoned Nan Inta and had set him to watching his summer-house on the river — the work of a menial, such as Nan Inta had never yet been reduced to doing. At last the moment had come when an appeal for religious toleration might be made with fair pros- pect of success. As the only way of avoiding con- tinual interference in the future, the Commissioner himself advised that the appeal be made for religious toleration in general, rather than for freedom of THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 211 Christian marriage, which was only a single item. The Commissioner was busily engaged in writing out a report of his own grievances, to be sent to the King. He said that he would mention our case also in his report, and offered to forward my letter with his despatches. I immediately dropped everything else, and ad- dressed myself to writing that appeal unto Caesar. In it I referred to the sanction of the Siamese government to the establishment of the mission, given after the interview with Prince Kawilorot at Wat Cheng, and subsequently renewed on the appointment of his suc- cessor. Prince Intanon. I was very careful not only to exonerate the latter from all blame, but also highly to commend both him and his Princess for their uni- form kindness, and for their sympathy in this par- ticular emergency. But the act of the Chao Uparat was, no doubt, only the beginning of what he would do if he were not restrained. It was evidently his inten- tion to reduce to slavery a family that had always been free. In behalf of his loyal Christian subjects we begged His Majesty to guarantee to them the same privileges, civil and religious, which his other subjects enjoyed, among which surely was the right to be mar- ried according to tne ceremony of their own religion. One request I put in with some misgiving — that the Christians might be exempted from compulsory work on the Sabbath; otherwise that point might always be used to create difficulty when the master was hostile. While thus making our appeal to man, importunate prayer was continually offered to Him who had been our help in times past. It was very necessary that the appeal should go as the joint action of the mission as then constituted. I was aware that Dr. Cheek, the only other member of 212 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the mission then on the ground, did not enter heartily into the appeal. He was fearful that it would only make bad worse ; that it would give offence to the Lao rulers, and possibly to the Siamese as well. But as re- gards the Lao, matters had already reached an extrem- ity in the case of the one who really ruled the coun- try. And as to the Siamese, our only human hope was in the King, So, when my paper was finished, I took it to Dr. Cheek, and read it over to him. He listened very attentively to the reading, and at its close I was delighted to hear him say, " That seems all right." After a few clerical alterations which he suggested, we both signed the paper. A summary of it was read to the Commissioner, and was afterwards enclosed by him with his despatches. Our appeal to the King of Siam had, of course, to be made through the United States Consul, Colonel Sickels. Our letter to the King was, therefore, sent unsealed under cover to the Consul, so that he might read it; and with it went a letter giving him a full account of all the particulars of the case, and urging him to use his influence, both personal and oflScial, on our behalf. The whole was entrusted to a special messenger in a swift boat, with instructions to make all possible speed. Having done our best, we waited prayerfully and hopefully. But the greatness of the issue involved made us anxious. The liberal policy of the young King was not then so well known as it became later. One could not be absolutely certain how even our Consul would regard it. We trusted, however, to the friendship of the Foreign Minister, who had invited me to Pechaburi, and who had always been our true friend. No one of all these persons concerned disap- pointed our expectations, or even our hopes. THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 213 Colonel Sickels acted with commendable despatch. He was favoured in securing an audience without the usual formalities. At that time His Majesty had a reg- ular day each week when his subjects and others might approach him informally in his summer garden with petitions on urgent business. Our appeal was pre- sented to him there. He was already aware of its na- ture through the Commissioner's despatches. Anxiety with regard to the political situation in the North no doubt prompted him to a decisive assertion of author- ity in this matter as well. His Majesy informed the Consul that his government had already reached a decision favourable to our request, and that full re- ligious toleration was to be proclaimed. The courier returned with unwonted speed, reach- ing Chieugmai on Sunday, September 29th. Late in the afternoon of that day the Commissioner notified me of the arrival of despatches. Next morning 1 called upon him. He was radiant with joy. All his own re- quests had been granted, and enlarged powers had been given him, including power to make proclamation of religious toleration in all the Lao states. He seemed as much delighted with our success as with his own. He said that he had already notified the princes and officials to call in the afternoon, and he would then inform them of the result. Of course, our hearts were overflowing with gratitude. At the appointed hour the Prince, the Chao Uparat, and all the high officials were assembled. When the order for the proclamation was made known, some of them made a final personal appeal to him to stay pro- ceedings. They argued that unrestricted permission to become Christians would be the ruin of the country. To understand the force of this objection it must be 214 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO remembered that among the Lao, breach of the Sev- enth Commandment was punished, not by civil or criminal procedure, but by a " spirit-fine " paid to the patriarch of the woman's family. It was argued that if Christian young men should transgress with Lao girls or women, under the new regime, no fine could be imposed, and there would be no redress whatever. The Commissioner then sent a messenger, asking me to come to the audience. The scene, as I entered, re- minded me of that other notable audience with Prince Kawilorot and another Commissioner. The Commis- sioner stated their objection, and asked me what I had to say. I replied that the difiiculty was purely an imaginary one. In the first place, it was a cardinal doctrine of the church to forbid such sins. In the second place, if a professed Christian violated his vows, he made himself amenable to the discipline of the church, and so put himself beyond its protection. The Commissioner said, " I have already so answered, but I wanted those who are present to hear it from the teacher himself." To this no reply was made. After a short pause the Commissioner broke the silence. With a gesture to the audience, he said that the busi- ness was ended. When he had leisure, the Edict would be issued. One after another the assembled princes and officials retired. On my way home I noticed that the Chao Uparat had stopped at his little sala beside the river, the same that Nan Inta had been set to watch. To show that I had no personal grudge, I stopped to call on him. Rising, he gave me a more respectful welcome than usual, and ordered a foreign rug to be spread — the re- spectful way of receiving guests before the day of chairs. When I was seated he asked why I had made THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 215 complaint against him to Bangkok — he was very sore at heart about it. I replied that I was sorry, indeed, to be obliged to do it. Did he not remember how I had told him that we could not submit to his decision ; how I had even entreated him not to force us to ap- peal to the King? And I could not appeal without giving the facts as my ground for so doing. But now I hoped that bygones might be bygones, and that we might be friends. — The fact was that my letter had been translated in Bangkok, sent back to Chiengmai, and had been read at the audience before my arrival. But I never before had such a reception from the Uparat. The wording of the proclamation was left to the Commissioner. If he had been hostile, or even indif- ferent, its effect might easily have been neutralized by a little vagueness or ambiguity. But he was anxious to have the matter settled decisively. When I took my leave of him that morning, he promised to show me the draft of the proclamation before he should aflBx his seal. When I saw it, there were only a few verbal changes to suggest. It was a general permis- sion to the Lao to adopt any religion they pleased. I suggested that since it was specifically granted in the interest of Christians, it was desirable that Christi- anity be specifically named — which was done. At my request two extra copies of the proclamation were made with the official seals attached; one for deposit in our safe, and one that might be read to the people. The following is a literal translation of this famous document : I Praya Tep Worachun, Representative of His Majesty the Supreme King of Siam in Chiengmai, Lampun, and Lakawn, hereby make proclamation to the Princes, Rulers, 216 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO and Officers of various grades, and to the common people in the cities and provinces named: — That His Majesty the King of Siam has been graciously pleased to send me a Royal Letter under the Royal Seal, to the effect that D. B. Sickels, Esqr., United States Consul, had commimicated to the Foreign Minister of Siam a complaint signed by Rev. D. McGilvary and Dr. M. A. Cheek against certain parties for molesting the Christians and compelling them to ob- serve their old religious customs. The Foreign Minister laid the subject before His Majesty, who most graciously listened to the said complaint, and gave the following Royal Com- mand in reference to the same: — That religious and civil duties do not come in conflict. That whoever wishes to embrace any religion after seeing that it is true and proper to be embraced, is allowed to do so without any restriction. That the responsibility for a right or a wrong choice rests on the individual making the choice. That there is nothing in the laws and customs of Siam, nor in its foreign treaties, to throw any restriction on the religious worship and service of any one. To be more specific: — li any person or persons wish to embrace the Christian Religion, they are freely permitted to follow their own choice. This Proclamation is to certify that from this time forth all persons are permitted to follow the dictates of their own conscience in all matters of religious belief and practice. It is moreover strictly enjoined on Princes and Rulers, and on relatives and friends of those who wish to become Christians, that they throw no obstacles in their way, and that no one enforce any creed or work which their religion forbids them to hold or to do — such as the worship and feasting of demons, and working on the Sabbath day, except in the case of war and other great unavoidable works, which, however, must not be a mere pretence, but really important. Be it further observed that they are to have free and unob- structed observance of the Sabbath day. And no obstacle is to be thrown in, the way of American citizens employing such persons as they may need, since such would be a breach of the treaty between the two countries. Whenever this Proclamation is made known to the Princes THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 217 and Rulers and Officers and People, they are to beware and violate no precept contained therein. Proclamation made on the Thirteenth Day of the Eleventh waxing Moon, in the Eleventh Year of His Majesty's Reign, October the Eighth, Eighteen Hundred and Seventy-Eight. The Edict furnishes a second natural division in the history of the Lao mission. Its first period was one of struggle for its very existence, culminating in positive prohibition to preach the gospel and virtual expulsion of the missionaries. That situation was abruptly brought to an end by the death of Prince Kawilorot and the appointment of his son-in-law, Prince Intanon. In our second period of struggle, the conclusion of which we have just witnessed, the conditions were in many respects similar to those of the first. Our chief an- tagonists in the two contests were alike in their love of absolute power, in their determination to break down all rival influences, and alike, therefore, in their settled hostility to our work. In neither case was their antagonism to Christianity primarily on religious grounds. But Kawilorot was of much more imposing personality and figure than the Uparat. Within his own realm Kawilorot was really " Lord of Life." He was absolute head both of church and of state. He brooked no rival and no contradiction in either. The highest positions in the religious hier- archy were bestowed or withdrawn at his pleasure. His own brothers-in-law languished in exile in Siam, because it was not thought safe for them to return and be within his reach. At home he had vanquished or terrified into submission all possible rivals. Even the court of Siam seemed inspired with a wholesome fear of meddling with him. The crime of the first Christians was the unpardonable one that they had 218 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO dared to become such against the will of Kawilorot. But the time and place for such rulers had passed. Such attitude and temper suited neither a position under superior authority, nor the policy of a govern- ment striving to rise with the progress of the age. But he served his purpose in the world, and Providence used him. Of his titular successor, Prince Intanon, and of his noble wife, I have already spoken. His real successor in the government of the land, and in his championship of the old regime of feudal autocracy, was the Chao Uparat. But he had neither the commanding dignity of Kawilorot nor his interesting personality ; — had lit- tle, in fact, of any of his qualities save his lodged and settled hatred of all innovation. For him we had none of a certain kind of respect which the late Prince in- spired; and we were under no constraint of gratitude for favours. The only debt of gratitude the mission owed him was for being, by his lawless acts, the un- witting and unwilling cause of the proclamation of re- ligious freedom. But the crisis which he precipitated hastened like- wise that centralization of government which Siam was waiting for. The tendency of the age is everywhere toward centralization. Strong central governments are everywhere taking the place of weak and scattered ones. Chiengmai itself and all the existing Lao states have grown by the capture and absorption of their weaker, though by no means insignificant, neighbours. The authority and fear of Siam had long been felt in- directly in preventing those petty wars in which one weak state captured and enslaved another. That authority was now to be exerted more directly to bring to an end the era of arbitrary, personal, autocratic THE EDICT OF RELIGIOUS TOLERATION 219 rule among its dependencies, and to establish in its place the more equal and stable reign of law. Feudal- ism with its " organized anarchy " was to give way to the Nation. Such was the period at which we have arrived in this narrative of our life and work in the Lao states. It is a wonderful thing to have lived through such a series of changes, and possibly to have been, under Providence, the means of bringing some of them about. We work for an end apparent to ourselves ; but God's designs are deeper and broader than ours. "He maketh the wrath of man to praise Him." Of nations, as well as of individuals, is it true that " There's a divinity that shapes our ends, Rough-hew them how we will." Among the Christians the Edict, of course, was greeted with an outburst of joy. To Nan Inta it was like life from the dead. It was in reality freedom from slavery. And no man made such efficient use of it as he did. With the sealed copy of the Edict in his hand, he returned to his village; and wherever he went he could assure the people, on the faith of his Sovereign, that a profession of the " Jesus-religion " meant neither the ruffian's club nor slavery. The effects of the Edict upon the church will be traced in its future growth as our story moves on. I may venture, however, to an- ticipate so much — that within two years' time two of our strongest village churches were organized; one of them in Nan Inta's own village. Neither of these churches could have existed had not the Uparat's power been abridged. To the country, the new authority conferred on the 220 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO High Commissioner at that time has resulted in a revolution as silent and as effectual as the change of the seasons. His new title, Pu Samret Rachakan — he who fulfills the King's work — was used, I believe, for the first time in that proclamation; and it really marked the passing of the sceptre from the hands of the Princes of Chiengmai. The titular Chao Chiwit — Lord of Life^ — was allowed to retain his title and honours during his lifetime; but he has had no suc- cessor. The Lao country has ceased to be either a feudal dependency or a separate " buffer-state." Silently — almost imperceptibly — it has become an in- tegral portion of the consolidated Kingdom of Siam. Autocratic rule has everywhere ceased. And all these changes are directly in line with the civilization of the age. XX SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER THE year 1879 opened auspiciously. In Marcha little variety was introduced into our secluded life by an oflBcial visit to Chiengmai of Major Street, the British Commissioner at Maulmein. He and his party arrived quite unexpectedly, spent a week in the city, and attended an English service at the mission on Sunday. We met them a number of times, both socially and at ofiScial dinners. They strength- ened the position of the Commissioner, and did us all good. But at that time we were anxiously awaiting another arrival, in which we were more intimately con- cerned. Mr. Wilson, who had been for two and a half years absent on furlough, was daily expected, and with him were our long-looked-for teachers for the Girls' School. The party was to arrive on April 9th. To please the three children and myself, on the afternoon of the 8th we four started down the river in a small boat to meet and welcome them. But the river was low, and we had not yet reached them when darkness came on and we were obliged to seek moorings. When, at last, we got ashore, we learned to our great joy that the mission boats were moored only a few hundred yards below, in the same bend of the river. We all walked down in the moonlight, and presently spied their lights close at hand. The young ladies had re- 222 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO tired to read, but not to sleep. The meeting by moon- light at the river's brink was quite romantic. We talked till ten o'clock, though Mr. Wilson was so hoarse that he could scarcely speak. At daybreak our fleet was under way. We had a jolly breakfast to- gether on board — our visitors at their little table, and we on the deck. We then visited hard again until noon; but it was two o'clock before we caught sight of the mission premises, with the native Christians all waiting to greet the arrivals, old and new. The High Commissioner, a few days later, gave a dinner to the mission, saying in the note of invitation that it was in honour of the young ladies, for the bold- ness and piety that enabled them to leave their fathers and mothers, and come so far to teach his people. When notified of their arrival, the Princess sent down carriages and had us all up to call on her. She was delighted to welcome the young ladies, and was inter- ested in the school. The Siamese and the Lao tongues are two closely re- lated branches of the same linguistic stock. The idiom and the great body of common words are nearly the same in the two, differing, where they do differ, chiefly in accent and intonation. Siamese is, of course, the speech of the ruling race throughout the Siamese king- dom; and even at the time of which we are speaking it was easy to foresee that the local dialect of its northern provinces must eventually give way before it, especially for all official and literary purposes. The chief obstacle in the way of a speedy victory for the Siamese has been the fact that the Lao is written in a wholly different character. Were the two alike in this SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 223 respect, there is no doubt that the standard form of speech would take the place of the dialectal almost without notice. Of necessity all teaching so far attempted had been in the Siamese. There was not a schoolbook in the Lao character save the spelling tables. When these had been mastered, there was no reading-book in Lao that could be put into the hands of the pupils ; nor was there prospect of any such being printed for years to come. On the other hand, in the Siamese character there was a considerable Christian literature in print, both religious and general, already available for pur- poses of education. Our pupils, moreover, had all been girls; and almost no Lao women at that time could read writing in any character. It was, therefore, not only much simpler, but quite as well for them on other accounts, to learn the Siamese character from the start. Now, however, when we were arrived at the estab- lishment of regular schools with a permanent organi- zation and policy, the question could no longer be postponed, In which language shall instruction be given? It was not an easy question to decide. With regard to it there was difference of opinion among the missionaries, both old and new. On the one hand, it was urged, that since ours was a Lao mission, the Lao should, of course, be the language of the schools. On the other hand were pointed out the greater scope and availability of the Siamese, its assured supremacy, and the dwindling future of the Lao throughout the terri- tory of Siam. The matter at last was compromised by continuing the Siamese in the Girls' School, and adopt- ing the Lao for the boys. Meantime it was desirable to have some portions of 224 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the Scriptures in tlie Lao character; and, to accomplish this, the first requisite was a font of Lao type. To this end, on my first furlough in 1873, I went from North Carolina to New York, and not only spent some time, but was at some personal expense, in the effort to se- cure such a font. The American Bible Society voted a liberal sum for the purpose. But there turned out to be some mechanical diflSculties to be overcome in making and using the type, which were beyond my skill to solve. So, lest the attempt should fail in my hands, I gave it up. And having accomplished nothing, I presented no bill of expense either to the Bible So- ciety or to the Board. There seemed, indeed, to be some fatality attending our efforts in this direction. Mr. Wilson, on the fur- lough from which he was but now returned, had gone further. He actually succeeded in getting a font of Lao type. But the whole of it was lost, and never reached the mission.^ It was not until Dr. Peoples' furlough in 1889 that we succeeded in getting our pres- ent type. Meanwhile we had used the Siamese Scrip- tures, with some present disadvantages, indeed, but with some advantages as well. Some of our first Christians were attracted to our religion by their desire to learn Siamese; and the Siamese Bible and catechism were our textbooks. And now, under Siamese rule, knowl- edge of the Siamese opens the way to promotion in the government service. Siamese alone is taught in the ^Mr. Wilson brought only a few specimens with him. He writes : — " The rest of the type was to be boxed up and sent to Mr. Cutter, and the boxes were to be put away in the store-room of the Mission Rooms at 23 Centre Street, and forwarded when called for. They must have been lost when the Board moved from 23 Centre Street to the Lenox property, and then to 156 Fifth Avenue. SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 225 government schools. Young monks are more eager to study Siamese than their own tongue. But the important thing, after all, was that we had a school actually begun, and that there was teaching in both dialects. It was like a new beginning of our work under conditions more favourable than at the first. For twelve years it had been a hard, and, some- times, an apparently hopeless struggle. But the his- tory of missions affords many similar instances with even fewer visible results. In twelve years we had gathered forty converts into the church. Some of these were among the most useful we have ever had in the history of the mission. It is hard to estimate rightly the importance of work spent on the foundations of such an enterprise. But now, with that church or- ganized, with the medical work well established, the evangelistic work strengthened, and the initial school, begun long before by Mrs. McGilvary, placed on a per- manent basis, we could write in large letters on our altar, " Jehovah-Nissi " — Jehovah our banner. In the early part of this year, 1879, twelve more persons were gathered into the church. One of them was Pa Seng Bun, the poor woman accused of witch- craft, who, with so much difficulty, was saved from her persecutors. Another was Mun C, who was a daily visitor when we were here on our first tour of exploration. And another was our own dear little Margaret. Somewhat later there came to our notice one of the most interesting of all the incidents in the chequered history of our mission. One morning, on returning from my work in the city, I was told that a man had been waiting to see me, and was then talk- ing to Nan Inta. Stepping down to the house, where 226 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO a number of persons had collected, I saw a handsome man of medium height, but of striking figure, larger and more portly than is usual among the Lao, and thirty-three years old, as I learned. Nan Ta, for that was the stranger's name, said that not long after our first arrival in Chiengmai, while he was jet a monk in the king's monastery, he had vis- ited me, and was struck with those points in the teach- ings of Christianity which differentiate it from Buddhism. He received a copy of the Gospel of Mat- thew in Siamese, learned a few verses, and took the book home with him to the monastery. Afterwards he visited me occasionally to take a few further les- sons in it. He was a protege of Prince Kawilorot, who paid the expenses of his entering the monastic order. He thus became the Prince's " Luk keo " ^ {jewel-son), in effect his adopted son. Not long after this he left the priesthood, married, and settled out in the coun- try. But he paid us a few visits from time to time, always, as he said, to talk on religion and to study Siamese. When the order for the murder of the Christians was given, a monk who was a friend of his met him in the streets, and asked whether he knew that his house was to be burned over his head, explaining that the Prince had nourished him as a son, and now he had apostatized and joined the foreign religion. Advising him to con- sider well and quickly, the priest hurried on. So it had become known in the palace that he was visiting us and studying the Jesus-religion. There was no time to be lost, not even to bid good-bye to his young wife. On that eventful Saturday afternoon, just before the ^ A designation whose nearest parallel in English is, perhaps, god- son. SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 227 flight of our servants, he stopped at our door ; but see- ing no one, he hastened on. On Sunday he secreted himself in a deserted monastery near the mountains. Next day he fell in with a company of traders, going to Chieng Rai, six days' journey to the north, and travelled with them without making known what his errand was. At Chieng Rai he learned that the Chris- tians were put to death the day after he left. He was still within the Lao realm, and might be arrested. He made his way, therefore, to Keng Tung, in Burmese territory, ten or fifteen days' journey still further to the north. After remaining there some three years, he returned to Chieng Rai, where he heard of the death of Kawilorot and the accession of Prince Intanon. Still in fear, he passed through the towns to the east of Chiengmai, venturing even as near as Lakawn. Then crossing the Me Ping valley to the south of Chiengmai, he went beyond the Sal win into Burma, stopping awhile among the Red Karens, and then going on to Maulmein. Seeing there a foreigner's house, he en- quired if anything was known concerning the mis- sionaries in Zimme (Chiengmai). Nothing was known of them. Returning again to Siamese territory, he went to Raheng, thinking that he would go on to Bangkok. There, however, he was told that the mis- sionaries had gone back to the United States — in- formation based, no doubt, on our departure on fur- lough. During his long wanderings he had made friends as he could, and to support himself had sometimes turned peddler. In the haste of his flight from home he had taken nothing with him except his copy of the Gospel of Matthew in Siamese. He could not read it well, but 228 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO he kept it as a kind of talisman, till it was now well worn. He had learned to praj daily. He never dared to return till he heard of the Edict of Toleration. He regarded it as a special providence that his wife, strange to say, had not married again. The child born after his flight he found grown to be a fine girl nine years old. He was delighted to find the missionaries again. It was a thrilling story. This man did not have to become a Christian — he was one already. His first desire was to understand all that there was in his Gospel of Matthew. It was evident that he had been spared and kept for some wise purpose. And so it proved. Since I needed a teacher, and since he was a fine Buddhist scholar, I employed him as teacher, so that I might have him near me in order to teach him. He was an apt pupil, making rapid progress in knowledge, and growing in grace. His romantic his- tory interested and attracted others. As a church member, as a ruling elder, and afterwards as an or- dained minister, he was a power in the church till the day when he was taken up. Thousands heard the Gospel from his lips, and many were drawn by his words and by his life into the fold of Christ. How wonderful are God's ways in leading His people! Doubtless the defection of this man was one of the things which alarmed Kawilorot. It may even have hastened the fate of the martyrs. But no doubt the Lord chose a wonderful way of saving to His church this most useful minister of the Gospel. After long-continued weakness on the part of Mrs. McGilvary, an acute attack of pneumonia made a SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 229 longer stay in the country impossible. My daughter Cornelia was taken ill at the same time. So, with but little preparation, on December 28th, 1879, both mother and daughter were carried in chairs to the boat, and we hastened out of the country. Stopping in Bangkok only a few days, we embarked for Hong- kong. We met the China Sea in its worst mood. For three days and nights we did not see the captain's face ; neither did he see sun, moon, or stars in that most dangerous tract of the sea. The skylight was fastened down, for the waves swept the vessel from stem to stern. We were good sailors; but we could not but pity the one hundred and twenty Chinese steerage passengers, allowed on deck only a few moments twice a day for a breath of air, after which they had almost to be forced back into their hole again. There was withal just enough of the spice of danger to make the sight of Victoria Peak at last doubly welcome. By this time my family were all so much improved by the journey that there was question whether I should proceed with them, or should return to Chieng- mai for another year's work. It was evident that, in order to regain her strength, Mrs. McGilvary would require a longer stay in the United States than one year. I could neither spare the time for so long a furlough for myself, nor could I expect the Board to grant it. The question was not an easy one; but we decided at last that my wife and children should con- tinue their journey to the United States, and that I should return to Chiengmai alone. During my few days' stay in Bangkok, through the kindness of our Consul, I had an audience with His Majesty the King. I desired to express to him in 230 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO person my thanks for the Edict of Toleration. After some remarks addressed to the other gentlemen pres- ent, the King asked me if I were not, during the previ- ous month, the bearer of despatches from his Commis- sioner in the North — showing that he did not overlook small matters, as a king might be expected to do. He enquired how I liked the Commissioner, whether I preached in Siamese or in Lao, how many converts we had, etc., etc. It was a very pleasant inter- view. As I ascended the river, it became plain that the water was too low to permit the latter stage of the trip to be made in my large boat. At Chiengmai I should find a house, but not a home. Before I could reach it, the touring season would be nearly over. The thought of stopping a season for work at Raheng struck me favourably. The more I considered it, the more attractive it became. To be sure, I had not se- cured the sanction of the mission to that particular enterprise; but I had always been allowed to choose my own touring ground. An officer. Sen Utama, of- fered me a site for a bamboo house gratis; and before I had announced my final decision, he and others be- gan to cut bamboo on it to build the house. I had asked for guidance, and the question seemed to settle itself. I cannot dwell on the interesting six months of the year 1880 spent there. Sen Utama was interested from the first. By affliction he had been wonderfully prepared for, and seemed to be waiting for, the very consolation that the Gospel offered him. An ex-tax- collector, a Chinese of some influence, was in the same state of mind, and soon joined the other as an en- quirer. My student, Noi Intachak, entered heartily SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 231 into the work. Soon, with my cook and boy, we had the nucleus of quite an interesting congregation who attended worship twice a day. It was a delight to teach them. The case of the Chinese was deeply interesting. He believed the Gospel plan of salvation, and was deeply anxious to be saved from his sin and its punishment. But there was one serious obstacle in the way of his making an open profession — he had two wives. The real wife — the one he had formally married — was child- less. The one he had bought was younger, and had two lovable little children, both girls. I recall almost with tears the burning questionings we had over that situa- tion. He seemed willing to make any self-sacrifice that duty required. But what was duty? Should he di- vorce one of them? If so, which one? " Of course, he must keep the real one," you will say. But what of the young mother and the helpless babes? The very mention of their being turned adrift, even with a dower, had produced a scene in the family. The poor woman felt quite unable to care for the children alone. The children were his children. It might easily have been the ruin both of mother and babes to put her away. My heart was not hard enough to advise that. Surely the man had not cut himself off from the hope of salvation by his past — by an error or sin of ignorance. The conditions of church-membership are faith and repentance. The sacraments of the church are baptism and the Lord's Supper. Shall we offer a man the pardon of his sin without its sacramental seals? — the glorious hope of endless fellowship in heaven, but not the communion of saints on earth? A precisely parallel case I had met before in the per- son of a native doctor at Mtang Awn. " What then," 232 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the reader will ask, " did you do? " Why, in each case I just did nothing. I followed the letter of the law, and baptized neither one. But " the letter killeth ; the spirit maketh alive." In due time Sen Utama and a nephew of the Chinese were baptized. An interesting tour was made up the river. But the station in Chiengmai was feeling the pressure of the growing work. In July, 1880, the church of Bethlehem w^as organized, and there were promising openings in other districts. It was evident that the Board was not in a condition to consider a permanent station in Raheng. It would have been an interesting field for permanent occupation; but for temporary work, I had been there as long a time as we could afford to spend in one place. Just then Praya Sihanat — the officer from Lakawn who, two years before, had greeted me with " Eph- phatha" — invited me to return with him. His ears were not opened, but his heart was. He had taught the Christian faith to his wife and children and a few others, and among these was a fellow ex-officer. He wished with them to receive further and fuller instruc- tion, and to be taken into the fellowship of the church. Without waiting to ascertain whether I could go, he was come with a boat to bring me. This seemed to me the guiding hand of providence, and I fol- lowed it. Since a single boat cannot ascend the rapids with- out the help of another boat's crew, we made arrange- ments to join forces with another party, and make the trip together. The night before we were to start, the river, which had been steadily rising, became a flood so strong that my host dared not face it in his small craft. Our companions, however, did not wait for us, SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 233 but went on as they had planned. We waited ten days for another party, as well as for the river to go down. Imagine my sensations, then, when, presently, we learned that the captain and owner of the principal boat in the flotilla with which we had planned to make the trip, was shot and killed, and his boat was plundered ! A band of dacoits secreted themselves be- hind a cluster of trees where the channel runs close to the bank, shot the steersman at his oar, and then had the boat at their mercy. Since all foreigners are sup- posed to carry money, the attack may well have been intended for me. Earlier in that same year, while returning alone to Raheng, I came near being en- trapped by a similar band. The visit to Lakawn was interesting and profitable. Ten days were spent with the new converts. While my friend, the Praya, had been busy, the devil had not been idle. One of the princes had threatened to have one of his head men flogged if he joined the Christians. But before we left, a church was organized, with Praya Sihanat as elder. From Lakawn I took elephants to Chiengmai, and spent the last Sunday of my trip with Nan Inta and the newly organized church of Bethlehem, named after Mr. Wilson's old church in Pennsylvania. Nan Inta was waiting for me where the road to his village turned off from the main route. On Christmas day following this, Mr. Wilson, Dr. Cheek, and Miss Cole organized yet another church at Me Dawk Deng, where Nan Su- wan had been doing faithful work. In both these cases the persecution for supposed witchcraft had furnished a good nucleus for the church, which thereafter the Edict of Toleration protected from expulsion. All the departments of our work, medical, educa- 234 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO tional, evangelistic, were prospering. Nan Ta, the long time wanderer, was becoming a power second only to Nan Inta, and destined ultimately to surpass him. Like him, he was a man of fine address and bearing, and a good Buddhist scholar ; but he was much younger. Being, moreover, the son of a Praya — the highest grade of Lao oflScers — he had an influence with the nobility such as no other of our Christians had. In the church he began to show a capacity and power such as prob- ably no other person has exercised. Meanwhile Mr. Wilson was working on plans for a building for the Girls' High School. Already the school numbered forty-two pupils, but with no place in which to teach them save the teacher's house. The season had been very hard on Miss Campbell's health. She was very young, and had come direct to Chieng- mai from the seminary without any period of rest, and with a constitution by no means robust. The mission voted her a trip to Bangkok for rest. Little did we think when we bade her good-bye that we should see her face no more. Financially for me the year had been the hardest in my life. With all the economy we could use — and we did not spend a useless penny — it seemed impossible for me to keep my family going. When we left Chieng- mai we had overdrawn our salary, and the amount had to be made up that year. This condition was one of the straws that helped to determine me to stop over in Raheng. I could live more cheaply there; in fact, could hardly spend money there if I wished to. In only one matter had I been greatly disappointed in Raheng; I hoped to be in somewhat closer communica- tion with my family, about whom I still felt some anxiety. I was, indeed, nearer them in space, but it SCHOOLS— THE NINE YEARS' WANDERER 235 proved much further in time. The largest mail of the year passed on up to Chiengmai, and was sent back, reaching Raheng just after I had left the place. It finally reached me in Chiengmai on the last day of the year 1880 ! XXI SECOND FURLOUGH MY health had been snch that I hoped I might safely forego my furlough, and have my wife and our youngest child return to Chiengmai alone. My wife, after finding a home for a while with her brother, Professor Bradley, in Oakland, had gone on in the spring to North Carolina. But she was not gaining much in strength, and plainly required another year. My own health was not so good as it was at the beginning of the year. Certain symptoms gave me anxiety, and decided me to delay my own furlough no longer. If it was to be taken at all, the sooner the better. So on March 12th, 1881, I started for the United States. The furlough which was now begin- ning ended twenty-three years of service in the general field of Siam, and fourteen years spent among the Lao. I had proceeded down the river but a few days, when a passing boat brought the astounding intelligence of the tragic death of our esteemed and youngest co- labourer. Miss Mary Carajibell. What words can ex- press the shock I received ! The news was confirmed a few days later by Dr. Cheek, whom I met on the river. At this distance it is unnecessary to enlarge on the particulars of the sad catastrophe. Indeed, it was all so sudden that there were few particulars to relate. Dr. Cheek had gone down to Bangkok on business soon after Miss Campbell left us, and now was . 236 SECOND FURLOUGH 237 returning with Miss Campbell under his escort. At the close of a hot day's run, the boats lay moored by a sand-bar for the night. They had had their evening meal and worship together. Dr. Cheek had taken his bath in the river, had examined the bar, and notified Miss Campbell how far it was safe to venture in taking hers. But somehow she ventured out too far — to a depth from which only angelic arms could re- ceive her to a shore where there is no more death. The brave effort of her Lao maid, Kam Tip, and Dr. Cheek's unsuccessful search till long after life must have been extinct, were well known at the time. She had but just come to her chosen field of work, in the bloom of youth and in the full ardour of her first con- secration, little thinking that her work was to be so soon and so sadly closed. Her last written words to a friend, with the ink on them scarcely dry before her death, were : " But I am not alone, for I have found in my dear Lao girls, Buk and Kam Tip, and in Nan Ta, my teacher, more company than I ever expected. I wish I could lend them to you long enough for you to know them." It will be evident to all that in 1881 the working force of the mission was entirely inadequate for oc- cupying and cultivating the broad and inviting field, now opened to us as never before. The medical work, constantly enlarging, occupied the physician's whole time. Mr. Wilson's physical condition, never very strong, confined his labours to the station and its immediate vicinity. The attention which these alone required would more than fill one man's time. The death of Miss Campbell made imperative an associate for Miss Cole. So, even if the trip to the United 238 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO States had not been rendered imperative by considera- tions of my own health, the best interests of the work itself seemed to demand that some one should go to seek reinforcement by direct and personal appeal to the church at home. As for Mrs. McGilvary, after spending the spring of 1880 with her brother in Oakland, California, she came on with our younger son to Statesville, North Carolina, where she could be with our daughters, and not far from our elder son in Davidson College. On my arrival in New York, I hastened on at once to North Carolina, where I spent the summer with my family and friends, lecturing from time to time in the churches. The fall of this year I spent in Texas and Arkansas, visiting relatives and friends w^ho had migrated thither from the family nest in North Caro- lina. In Texas I attended the meeting of the South- ern Synod, and both there and elsewhere I found many opportunities for presenting the cause of foreign mis- sions; and everywhere I encountered warm reception and eager interest in the work among the Lao. In the winter I came north to visit the Theological Sem- inaries, and to enlist men for the Lao mission. On my way I stopped in Oxford, Ohio, where I met Miss Lizzie Westervelt (afterward Mrs. Stanley K. Phraner), then in her senior year in Miss Peabody's Seminary, and preparing for missionary work among the Lao, upon which she entered in the following year. This was the school which had given us Miss Mary Campbell and Miss Edna Cole a few years before. While waiting for the Theological Seminaries to re- open after the Christmas recess, I was the guest of my wife's cousins at Castleton Corners, Staten Island. There I had the very pleasant experience of observing SECOND FURLOUGH 239 " Watch Night " with the Moravian Church, of which my friends were members. They called on the Lao missionary for an account of his experience in the field. In that, of course, there was nothing remarkable. But near the close of the next year, when writing to the family, I alluded to the pleasant memory of Watch Night and sent my gi'eetings to the church with a re- quest to be remembered in their i^rayers. Instead of giving my message verbally, my friends read the letter itself, and it seemed to be appreciated. The result was that the Lao letter came to be looked for regularly as a part of the watch service, and one was sent to them every year — if I were on the field — for seventeen years. It was a comfort to know that special prayer was al- ways offered for us by that great missionary church as the old year was dying, and the new year was com- ing in. The Professors at Princeton, Union, and Allegheny all gave their cordial endorsement and aid to me in my efforts to secure men. " We want you to get our best men," they said, and the Lord gave them to us. From Princeton came Chalmers Martin of the senior class. He had been chosen, however, for the Hebrew Fellowship, and was, therefore, delayed a year before entering upon his missionary work. Though his career in the Lao field was a short one, he left a lasting mark there, as we shall see. Allegheny gave us Rev. S. C. Peoples, M.D., and his brother-in-law. Rev. J. H. Hearst. Dr. Peoples' bow still abides in strength. His double preparation both as a minister and as a physician, gave him unusual equipment for the work he has accomplished. Mr, Hearst, however, soon suc- cumbed to the Chiengmai climate. Union gave us that consecrated young man, Mc- 240 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO Laren, who chose the great city of Bangkok — a fitting field for him, since his broad sympathies were bounded by no one race or people. His career also was cut short within a few months by cholera, contracted while ministering to dying seamen in the harbour during a severe epidemic of the disease. The Northwestern Woman's Board of Foreign Mis- sions was then, as it has been since, a great centre of missionary enthusiasm. It had sent out Miss Cole and Miss Campbell; and now the sudden death of the lat- ter had caused its interest and that of the Chicago churches to concentrate upon the Lao mission. It was to this combination of circumstances that I was in- debted for an invitation to attend its Annual Meeting in Minneapolis, and to speak there. Then the appoint- ment of Dr. L. E. Wishard's daughter (afterwards Mrs. Dr. Fulton of Canton, China), and that of Miss Sadie Wirt (Mrs. Dr. S. C. Peoples), from his church in Chicago, gave me a pleasant visit in the Doctor's fam- ily both as I went up to Minneapolis and as I re- turned. On a Sunday at Lake Forest, between the Sunday School, the University, the Ladies' Seminary, and the church, the Lao Mission had four hearings. At Minneapolis we learned that Miss Warner from the Northwestern Woman's Board, and Miss Griffin from the Southwestern, were also appointed to our mission, and Miss Linnell to Lower Siam. This completed our number, the largest reinforcement the mission has ever received at one time. After the adjournment of the Northwestern Board, a Sunday was spent with the family and the church of Miss Mary Campbell. After that, appointments with other churches filled up my time till the meeting of the General Assembly in Springfield, Illinois, which I at- SECOND FURLOUGH 241 tended, though not as a delegate. Our Presbytery of North Laos had not then been organized, and Dr. E. P. Dunlap was the representative of the Presbytery of Siam. At that meeting it seemed to me that a golden opportunity was missed for drawing together in a closer union the Northern and the Southern branches of the Presbyterian Church. The outcome threw the Southern church, much more weakened by the war than the Northern, on its own resources. In propor- tion to its financial strength, it has developed into one of the strongest missionary churches in the land, both as regards the home work and the foreign. Meantime, with the growth of the country generally, the Northern Assembly is becoming too unwieldy a body for its best efficiency. I believe the time will come when there will be three Assemblies rather than one, with a triennial Assembly of all on a basis of representation agreed upon by the three — somewhat after the plan of the Methodist and the Episcopal churches; or, more nearly still, after the plan of the Pan-Presbyterian Council. In duties and pleasures such as have just been de- scribed, the time slipped by till it was the 6th of June, 1882, before I again reached my family in States- ville. We were to start Lao-ward about the middle of July. My furlough ended with a visit to my old charge at Union, to attend the dedication of a new church there, and to see my old friends once more. We began to gather up our scattered forces at Chi- cago, where the Fifth Church gave to its pastor's daughter, and to the rest of us there present, a hearty farewell. The others of our large party joined us at different points on our route across the continent. Dr. Eugene P. Dunlap and his family, also returning from 242 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO furlough, were the very last to join us, just in time to sail with us from San Francisco. A missionary's vacation is very delightful, but the last day of it — the day that brings him bacli to his home and his work — is the best of it all. The small Bangkok steamers of those days could not furnish ac- commodation for our whole party at once. Some of us were, therefore, compelled to lie over at Canton — a circumstance which changed the ultimate location of one of our young ladies to the Canton mission, just as a previous successor to Miss Campbell had in a sim- ilar manner been changed to another station in China. But where there are young folks, such accidents will happen. At Bangkok our United States Consul, General Partridge, arranged for us an audience with the King. His Majesty gave us a cordial reception, expressing his gratification at seeing so many American missionaries coming to his country; since he knew that they came to instruct his people, and to make them more in- telligent and better citizens. Reinforcements surely had not come too soon. Dr. Wilson, Mrs. Cheek, and Miss Cole were the only mis- sionaries on the field when we returned ; for Dr. Cheek was absent on business. It was now four years since the proclamation of religious toleration; and for the first time was there prospect of workers enough to make any use of the advantages it offered. But had we relied too much on human aid? Were we too much elated in view of our present numbers, with Mr. Martin to follow the next year? After a short stay in Bangkok, we reached Chiengmai in the midst of one of those violent epidemics of fever by which the Lao country was then, perhaps, more fre- CHULALONGKORN, KING OF SIAM, 1872-1910 SECOND FURLOUGH 243 quently visited than it is now. Mr. and Mrs. Hearst and Miss Warner were soon prostrated with the dis- ease, and at one time, out of the whole mission, scarcely enough were left to care for the sick. Mr. and Mrs. Hearst soon decided to give up the struggle and with- draw from the field. Miss Warner continued longer, but ultimately she, too, retired with broken health. As already stated, Mr. McLaren died of cholera after a few hours' sickness in Bangkok, God was teaching us that it is " not by might nor by power, but by My Spirit, saith Jehovah." Soon other complications arose. Smallpox was brought by pupils into the Girls' School, and, to our consternation. Miss Griffin fell a victim. She had been vaccinated in her childhood, but was not revaccinated on leaving home — which is always a wise precaution for those expecting to travel or to live in the East. Proper measures prevented further spread of the dis- ease; and though our patient had a rather hard at- tack, yet she made good recovery. During our absence, the church had sustained a great loss in the death of Nan Inta, our first convert and as- sistant. But his works do follow him, and his life will long continue to be a precious legacy to the Lao church. He lived, however, until others were ready to take his place. Nan Si Wichai, who long had been Dr. Cheek's teacher, was a strong character, and he was ordained as an elder. Nan Ta, also, who had wandered so far and so long after the persecution, was growing to be a power in the church, and afterwards had the honour of becoming the first ordained minister among the Lao. XXII A SURVEYING EXPEDITION ON the 26th of February, 1884, an East Indian appeared on our veranda with an unexpected note from my old guest and friend. Rev. Dr. J. N. Gushing of the American Baptist Shan Mission. The surprise and pleasure of a visit from him and Mrs. Gushing in the early and lonesome days of the mission have already been referred to. The note told us that he was now connected, as interpreter, with a surveying expedition under Holt S. Hallett, Esq., and that the party would arrive in Ghiengmai on the following day. The railroad for which Mr. Hallett was surveying a route was part of a scheme, then on foot, to build a road from Maulmein to Ghiengmai, there to connect with a road from Bangkok, through the Lao country, to Ghieng Sen, and, if successful, to be continued up to Yunnan, Ghina. For some reason the scheme was not carried out, but the prospect of any road to connect our isolated field with the outside world was attractive to us. The party arrived the next day; and since it would be very inconvenient for Mr. Hallett to be separated from Dr. Gushing, we found room in our house for Mr. Hallett also, and had a fine visit with both. They soon began to tempt me to join their expedition.^ All expenses were to be paid. They were not to travel on Sunday. Their intended route, through the towns and 244 A SURVEYING EXPEDITION 245 villages on the way to Cliieng Rai and Chieng Sen, and southward again to Lakawn, was over ground I was anxious to travel once more. The trip would give me a long and profitable visit with my friend, Dr. Gushing. But, besides all personal considerations, it seemed right to give a little aid to an enterprise that would redound to the good of the country. Our Ghiengmai Prince, then quite old, was most in- credulous as to the possibilities of the wonderful rail- road. In his book, A Thousand Miles on an Elephant in tlie Shan States, Mr. Hallett has given an amusing account of his first interview with the Prince. He had great difficulty in understanding how a train could move faster than ponies, or how it could move at all without being drawn by some animal. And how could it ascend the hills? For it would surely slide down unless it were pulled up. " I explained to him that I had made three railways in England, therefore he might rely upon what I had said. Railways were made in various parts of the world over much more difficult hills than those lying between Zimme (Ghieng- mai) and Maulmein. ... He seemed quite stupefied by the revelation. It might be so — it must be so, as I had seen it; but he could not understand how it could be. He was very old; he could not live much longer. He hoped we would be quick in setting about and con- structing the line, as otherwise he would not have the pleasure of seeing it." We started at last on March 3d, 1884, with four large riding elephants, four pack-elephants, and nu- merous carriers, making forty-one persons in all. The passport from the Siamese government, supplemented by one from the acting Gommissioner, and the presence with us of a Lao official of some rank, sent to see that 24G AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO the orders were carried out, secured for us men and elephants and all necessary equipments, so far as the country could furnish them. The local officials were usually very kind, and as prompt as native officials ever were in those days. Mr. Hallett was very con- siderate in arranging to stop for the night and on Sundays near large villages and towns, where a little missionary work could be done. In the cities where there were Christians, we held regular services on Sundays. On these occasions our chief gave the in- fluence of his presence, though, of course, he could not understand what was said. On this trip we had a good opportunity for studying the characteristics of the elephant. He is very con- scious of his dignity, and must be treated with the respect due to a king, and not with the familiarity of an equal. Yet one is amused at his timidity. I my- self have seen one ready to stampede if a squirrel or a big rat ran across the road in front of him. Mr. Hallett says : " Elephants, though immense in size, are very timid, and easily startled. We had to take them off the path and turn their heads away into the jungles, whenever we heard the tinkling bells of an ap- proaching caravan; and they will turn tail and run at the sight of an audacious little dog that thinks fit to bark at them." On some of the stages of our march, when we had a mother-elephant in our company, we had the mis- chievous youngster along. Such are always an un- ceasing source of amusement. One of these seemed to have a special spite against Mr. Hallett's Madras boy, either because of his peculiar dress, or for some lib- erty he had taken with him. Mr. Hallett writes : " The little elephant was taking every chance he could get A SURVEYING EXPEDITION 247 to hustle the men over as they forded the streams, and to souse them with water from his trunk. Portow, who had an overweening opinion of his own dignity, and was bent on setting up as an oracle, was, unfor- tunately, the butt of the boys, but was likewise the sport of the baby-elephant. Many a time have I seen him hustled over by the youngster, who seemed to have picked him out as his playmate. Slyly and softly stealing up behind, he would suddenly increase his pace, and, with a quick shuffle or a sudden lurch, shoulder him sprawling to the ground. Portow, dur- ing this part of the journey, behaved like a hunted man, ever looking behind to see whether the dreadful infant was behind." My friend, Dr. Gushing, who had been put in charge of the train, and our prince-guide, both believed in the oriental idea of making an impression by as imposing a pageant as possible. On nearing Ghieng Rai, they marshalled us in procession, so that we entered the city in state, with ten armed men leading the way. Possibly it had its desired effect, for a warm welcome was given us, and every aid was granted. In the eleven years since my first visit there with Dr. Vrooman, the city had grown in size. The fertil- ity of its soil and the large extent of its arable land were sure to attract still larger population from the south. In addition to these natural advantages, it had then another strong claim for a mission station. While all the other Lao states, through their rulers, submit- ted to the introduction of Christianity rather than wel- comed it, Ghieng Rai and Ghieng Sen were exceptions. The rulers of both desired the presence of the mission- aries. The Sunday spent there was a welcome day of rest. 248 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO The week had been a strenuous one. In the morning we held a public service — the first ever held there. Mr. Hallett and our prince-guide attended, and curi- osity collected quite a congregation. After tiflSn, Dr. Gushing and I spent several hours — the first quiet ones we had had — reading in the monastery grounds at the great bend of the river. That evening I met the governor at home and, save for the presence of his wife, alone. His intelligent enquiries as to the truths and teachings of our religion showed that he had already thought much on the subject. Krii Nan Ta and he were not very distant relatives, and had had many conversations on the sub- ject. His regard for our mission and his earnest desire for a mission station, as well as the protection he afterwards gave the Ghristians when they were wronged, had, I believe, a deeper foundation than an intellectual interest, or even a personal friendship for us. Our next stage was Chieng Sen. There Nan Suwan, our ruling elder, and his family gave us a warm wel- come. He met us at the city gate, hardly hoping there would be a missionary in the expedition, which, rumour told him, was coming. His house stood on the bank of the river, just where Dr. Vrooman and I landed thir- teen years before, when the only occupants were wild beasts. The new settlers had been so busy providing housing and sustenance for themselves, that only one monastery building had been roofed, and only a por- tion of its images stored under shelter. Our old friend the governor had only a bamboo residence. Nan Suwan had made friends by the help of the quinine with which he had been supplied, and he had the best house in the city. It served, also, as a chapel, in A SURVEYING EXPEDITION 249 which, with grateful hearts, we worshipped on Sunday. The governor was even more insistent in his demand for a mission station than the governor of Chieng Rai had been. He even offered to send down elephants to move us up, if we would come. His was not the deep religious nature of the Chieng Rai governor. He pos- sibly believed that in their sphere all religions were alike good. He urged, as he had done before, that we might even then forestall the monasteries and pre- occupy the field. Nothing would have pleased me more, had it been possible, than to accept the cordial invitation. It was true, as the governor said, " The people must and will have some religion. If you do not give them Christianity, they must take Buddhism." It was only necessity that could resist such a plea. But half a loaf is better than no bread. If we were not ready to start a regular station in Chieng Sen, we must somehow work the field as best we could. That consideration determined my long tours in the dry sea- sons of the years that followed. Up to this time I had never been properly equipped and outfitted for such tours. One outcome of this trip was a great improvement in my means of transporta- tion for the future. An application made long before this to the Board for an elephant, had been received as a huge joke. But now it happened that in the assign- ment of elephants for our upward trip, a large sadaw — a male without tusks — had fallen to me. He proved to be an exceptionally fine beast belonging to an estate about to be divided. He must be sold, and was held at a very cheap figure. With the help of a contribution by Mr. Hallett, and the hire paid for its use, I was able to purchase it. The deputy governor gave me a good how- 250 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO dah for it. I was as proud of my new acquisition as ever a boy was of a new toy. But since few elephants will travel well alone, I now needed a mate for him. Before long I was fortunate enough to get a cheap and equally good female. I was then prepared for my long tours. I could cross streams in safety, and be pro- tected from rain, even if my journey were prolonged be- yond the limits of the dry season. On our return journey, in Muang Payao, we came in contact with the worst epidemic of smallpox that I have ever seen. We met it at every turn in the street. With difficulty could we keep parents with children, all broken out with the disease, in their arms, from crowd- ing round us in our sala. We had hardly taken our seats on the rugs spread for us at the governor's of- ficial reception of Mr. Hallett, when we discovered cases of smallpox all about us. Dr. Gushing was nervously afraid of it, and retired. I had to remain an hour as interpreter. Imagine our consternation on reaching the next station to find that the Doctor showed unmistakable signs of having contracted the dreadful disease, although he had been vaccinated in his youth. What a discovery to be made on a jour- ney, and four days from home ! On consultation it was thought best to hasten on to Chiengmai, a thing which our mode of travel made possible. Mr. and Mrs. Chal- mers Martin had arrived during our absence, and had taken up their quarters in our house. It was, there- fore, impossible to take our sick friend in. We did the next best thing, and gave him a new bamboo house on our hospital lot, where Dr. Peoples carefully watched over him till he made a rapid recovery, and was able to return home in a boat as far as Bangkok, and thence by sea via Singapore. It was a sad close, A SURVEYING EXPEDITION 251 however, to our pleasant visit together, and to our otherwise interesting and profitable tour. I returned from Chieng Sen, as we have seen, with an elephant of my own. On reaching home I found awaiting me the best pony I ever had. It was sent to me as a present from the governor of Me Hawng Sawn, near the Salwin River. I had never been to Me Hawng Sawn, and had but a very limited acquaintance with the governor. According to my uniform custom in those days, on his official visits to Chiengmai, I had twice called upon him as the governor of a neighbour- ing province. On both occasions we had conversation on the different merits of the two religions. On one of these visits he had brought down some ponies to sell, and on my asking the price of one he said, " I am very sorry that I have sold all my gentle ones. There is only one left. If you can use him, I shall be glad to give him to you." It is a McGilvary trait not to be timid about horses, and I said, " I will try him." So the pony was sent down to my house ; but he proved rather too much for my horsemanship. The first time I mounted him, he threw me and sprained my wrist. It was the unanimous vote of the family that he be returned with thanks. The governor sent back word that he was very sorry; but never mind; when he reached home he would see to it that I had a good pony — a message which, I am sorry to say, I took as a good oriental compliment. I had even forgotten all about the matter, when, on my return from this trip, I found the pony in my stable. He was a most valuable and timely present. But we are not quite done with Mr. Hallett's sur- vey. He made a short excursion without an inter- 252 AMONG THE SIAMESE AND THE LAO preter to the hot springs. But his final trip was to be to Ml»>^*>^r JUN i ^ Demco, Inc. 38-293