by Max Howell
Robert’s particular mates in Peking were not of the military, but rather two reporters who were sent from Australia, John Wallace and George Wynne, and his best friend became an Australian who was already there as The Times correspondent, one George Morrison. Another of his favourites was a likeable writer known as ‘A.B.’, or ‘Banjo’ Paterson, who would regale him and the others at parties with poems he had written. Robert never tired of ‘Banjo’ reciting ‘Waltzing Matilda’.
‘Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda,
You’ll come a’waltzing, Matilda,
With Me’.
There was an American he teamed up with as well. His name was Tom Mix, a real cowboy who would go on all night telling stories of the American West. He was hard-drinking and rugged, and after a few whiskies would say he was going to Hollywood when he got back to the U.S. as a stunt man in the countless cowboy movies that were being made. He became a real cowboy star and eventually made some 270 movies.
Robert early on also had a close relationship with his fellow Lieutenants, the Hixson brothers, but they only travelled as far as Hong Kong with the Wallaroo. Two young Sub-Lieutenants, John Lindeman and Harry Spain, were his military mates.
China had always intrigued Robert, and before he arrived he read everything about the country he could lay his hands on. China more than met his expectations when he arrived, though he could never reconcile himself to the abject poverty of the peasants. For that matter he also could not agree with the carving up of Peking into various foreign Legations. It was a simple matter to his mind: would he approve of Sydney being carved up by the major world powers, and Australians being forbidden to enter a foreign zone?
He did not reveal it to anyone but his close friends, but he had a deep sympathy for the Boxers, who after all were only trying to rid their own land of foreign influences.
Robert was personally involved in suppressing a few skirmishes, and was particularly astonished at the mercilessness of German troops when putting the Boxers down. No prisoners were taken, the Boxers being either shot or bayoneted. When he was able to converse with the Chinese people, however, he was informed that they considered that the Boxers were invincible and could not be killed in battle. This myth was wide-spread among the population. They believed that each warrior slain would rise again.
His particular confidante in China was The Times reporter George Morrison.
“George”, he said one day, “where will all this end?”
“Bob, it is merely an opening volley in what will be a long war. Nationalism will always win over internationalism. It is only a question of time. Freedom will out, I always say. Every civilisation that expands its own frontiers eventually retreats. The Romans are a perfect example. Have a look at any map of the perimeters of their expansion. Hell, they built Hadrian’s Wall in Britain, on the same lines and for the same reason the so-called Great Wall of China was built. To prevent incursions from foreign armies. The Boxer Uprising is simply a part of a continuum that began when they tossed the Jesuits out in the eighteenth century. Mark my words, no matter how long it takes, nationalism will prevail, and the imperial powers will eventually be tossed out! So in answer to your question, the end is a long way off!”
“How do you personally feel about the Chinese people?”
“How do I feel? I feel bloody sorry for them, that’s how I feel. They’re the meat in the sandwich. All these bloody missionaries are trying to Christianise them. Bloody hell, they were getting on all right with their own traditional religions. Christianisation will never work. Have a look at a map, and see how immense this country is. Look at its borders, for heaven’s sake, and what’s the population? Nobody knows. There’s never been a census. But my guess is maybe 800 million Chinese. Do you think a few thousand missionaries are going to have a significant or lasting effect? I think not, Bob, I think not!”
“What are you yourself doing in China, George?”
“Well, let me tell you it’s certainly a long way from the city of my birth, Geelong in Victoria. I’m 38 now. My father was Headmaster of Geelong College, you know, and he influenced me to go into medical studies, which I started, just to please him, in 1881. I wanted more than that, however. I always loved to write, and I hankered to travel and see a bit of the world. So I became a journo. I first went to Queensland, then New Guinea, North America, the West Indies and Spain. So my travel goals were certainly achieved. After Spain, to please my father again as he kept pestering me, I went to the University of Edinburgh and finished a medical degree.”
“So I have to call you Dr. Morrison?”
“You can if you like, but no-one else does, not that I ever tell anyone, and I never practised medicine. I just love writing, and through a mate of mine I was made a special correspondent for The Times in China. So here I am, in the middle of a bloody war, writing for an imperialistic-mad mob, the well-heeled readers of The Times.”
“I think I might have read a book of yours about China?”
“Maybe you did. It was published in 1895 and is called An Australian In China.”
“That’s it, that’s the one I read.”
“It’s a funny thing, Bob, I’ve seen the world and done a lot. Somehow I have this deep feeling that my destiny lies here in China, a long, long way from Geelong. Frankly, I wonder if I will ever see Geelong again.”
“The way you dash around, George, I’m sure you will. But it struck me when I read your book you have great sympathy for the Chinese people.”
“Yes I do, Robert, for the peasants in particular. The Empress Dowager and her court live a life of extravagance, including that grand eunuch who acts as her chief adviser. They live in the lap of luxury, while the peasants work their arses off from morning to night endeavouring to scratch out a bare subsistence living.”
They had countless conversations in ensuing days endeavouring to unravel, in their own minds, the meaning of the turmoil in which they found themselves, and how many times did they confess to each other how lucky Australians were, living in an isolated country where extreme poverty was a rarity and politics almost non-existent?
George took Robert along to church one Sunday when he had some free time. It was a Presbyterian church which associated itself with the British Legation, and was called the Society for Propagating the Gospel. The Mission School and church were run by a Reverend James Alcaster, from Cornwall, assisted by his wife Agnes.
At the Sunday services there was always a good complement from the British Legation, and about fifty or so converted Chinese. After the services tea was customarily served on the lawn at the back of the church, and Robert observed with a measure of disgust that few of the British ever mingled socially with the Chinese who were there. He, on the other hand, always made it a point to spend his time with them, and he was always impressed by their attempts to speak English, their courtesy and kindness.
As the weeks wore on he gravitated towards the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life, a 20-year-old by the name of Lin Shi-an. Now 25 years of age himself, Robert was a virtual innocent when it came to the opposite sex, his life in the navy completely absorbing him to this point in time. He had taken out a few ladies over the years, but all were non-passionate relationships.
From the very first time he saw Lin Shi-an his life seemed to turn upside-down. He just could not take his eyes off her. She had lustrous, long black hair that went half-way down her back, eyes that dazzled like black sapphires, a face of exquisite beauty, and long and shapely legs that seductively and tantalisingly revealed themselves through the traditional silk dress with a split skirt that she always wore.
Lin Shi-an was always accompanied by her parents, the father being a lawyer and advisor to the British Legation on legal matters.
When Robert first spoke to her parents, he was taken aback by the superb quality of her father’s spoken English.
“You speak very good English, sir”, Robert said.
“I thank you for the compliment, Lieutenant.”
“Where did you learn the language?” Robert asked.
“First of all a little at school, then my father, who was a merchant working with importers, hired an English tutor for me. After a few years I did the Oxford University Entrance Examinations, and my father sent me there and I took Law. I am one of the few experts here in China in British law, and like my father I work quite a bit with imports and exports. I loved the atmosphere of learning that permeated Oxford. I would often go to the Bodleian Library and examine its resources, and I would also spend many hours in the famous Ashmolean Museum.”
“You must have been a rarity, a Chinese at Oxford?”
“Yes, I was, but there were about six others there, a few from Southeast Asia. Not enough for a cricket team, but at least I could practise my native language occasionally.”
Robert had not spoken to Lin to this point. He had been introduced to her by her father, and she had only smiled at him and lowered her head without speaking. Yet each of them had exchanged glances many times, his heart beating faster as their eyes met. There was a certain magnetism between them, and Robert immediately and instinctively knew that she too was affected.
“And your daughter, Lin, does she speak English?” He noticed her blush as he said her name.
“I do not have any other children”, the father went on”, and I want Lin to have the same opportunities that I had. Academic studies are not the norm for women in Chinese society, but I have provided extra tutors for her in mathematics, the piano, and particularly English. The barriers are still not open at Oxford for her, but I do intend to send her overseas in the future for her education. As it stands, I am quite proud of her English.”
“My father is very kind with respect to my knowledge of English, Lieutenant Pride, but he exaggerates my ability”, Lin added, her Chinese accent adding a mesmerising quality to her voice.
Robert nodded and turned respectfully towards her father: “It seems to me, sir, that you have not overrated your daughter’s ability in English.” He then nodded towards Lin, who again lowered her head. “I do hope we will be able to speak again, sir.”
“Most certainly, Lieutenant Pride. I would like to know more about Australia, it seems a fascinating country.”
Robert bowed, glancing once more towards Lin, and then turned on his heels and slowly walked away. His heart was pounding. Even though he had only spoken to her once, he knew that he was completely in love for the first time in his life.
Shortly afterwards he pulled aside his friend George Morrison and said: “George, I have just met the woman of my dreams, a Chinese girl. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever set eyes on.”
George looked at his young friend, and remarked: “Robert, you can look all you like, mate, but that is as far as it will go. Mixed relationships are unusual in China, and mixed marriages – if you ever thought of that – are a complete no-no. It would be all right to go to bed with a Chinese prostitute, but one could not bed one of the upper strata of Chinese society, like she obviously is. You will never get near her, my friend, her parents will be at her side every time you talk to her.”
“We will see”, said Robert quietly, “we’ll see.”
“All right, son, but my advice is just take it slow and easy.”
“I’m prepared for that, George.”
It was not all fun and games for the Australian contingent in Peking, for though the Boxers had in the main been shackled, isolated groups would still attack foreign property, and Robert was called out every few days to repel such attacks. In fact, in the previous week there had been three Australian deaths in the field. Ambush techniques were used by the Boxers, and then a quick retreat. It was extremely difficult to defend against. The principal role of the Australian contingent was to round up the Boxers and summarily execute them without trial, certainly not a very pleasant assignment.
In between his incursions into the battle zone his mind was always on Lin, and every Sunday whenever he could he would go to the Mission church services and single out her family for discussions over a cup of tea.
Then good fortune intervened. The head of the Mission, the Reverend Alcaster, and his wife Agnes, had heard of the young lieutenant’s obsession, and they deliberately let it slip that once a week at night the Mission had Bible readings, and that a certain Lin always attended, with a friend. All this had ceased while the 55-day siege of Peking was on, but enough order had now been restored for normal church functions to resume. Even the Mission had been subject to attack by the Boxers, and many of its buildings had been decimated.
Robert had no particular interest in religion until his China posting, but now, with Lin constantly on his mind, he became an avid reader of the Bible so that he could contribute to the weekly discussions. Each Wednesday evening there were about twenty young people who showed up for the readings, about half of them well-educated Chinese, the remainder from the Mission and the British military. He was the lone Australian in attendance, except when military duties decreed otherwise.
The chairs were always in a circle at the readings, and he made certain that he would be seated next to Lin. He made no demands on her, and said nothing personal to her, but they were each very much aware of the other’s presence, and she would occasionally glance at him. He instinctively knew that he should do nothing to frighten her, that he had to be patient and let things slowly evolve in their relationship.
She always came and left the readings with a friend of hers, a Chinese girl called Ping, as he found out. After a few weeks, when she got up to leave, he said quietly: “May I walk you to your home with Ping?”
She blushed, then nodded her head and said: “That would be very nice, Lieutenant Pride. It is all right so long as someone can chaperone us. My home is about eight hundred yards outside the British Legation. You understand, I am sure, that I will have to advise my parents about this. I have no wish to offend them.”
So the three of them walked slowly to her home that evening. It so happened it was a beautiful autumn night, there was a half-moon, and countless stars flooded the sky. The smells of China, some indelicate, permeated the air, so absolutely different from those of his home in Australia, where the sea, the flowers and the gum trees intermingled gently to produce a distinctive pleasant, Australian smell.
Lin was dressed as usual this evening in a silken dress with a divided skirt, and his heart swelled as he occasionally cast surreptitious glances at her well-formed thin legs, small but distinctive bosom and thin waist. She only came up to his shoulder in height. How delicate and how beautiful she is, and she moves with such grace, he thought.
Lin felt so strange in the company of a westerner. He looked so elegant in his white naval uniform, the jacket tied tightly at the collar, the carefully shined shoes. From the very first she had marvelled at his blonde hair and blue eyes. She thought he looked like a young God, and appeared so strong and assured. She knew she was in love, but her heart ached when she weighed up the impossibility of her situation.
When she reached the door of her house she simply said, ever so quietly: “Thank you, Lieutenant Pride.” She then turned and went inside.
As he said good-bye and walked alone back to the British Legation, he felt a lightness to his body, an exhilaration that swept through him. He knew well enough what it was, though he had never felt it before – he was hopelessly in love!
The following Sunday he again conversed with her parents. The father quickly said: “Lieutenant, my daughter tells me that you walked her home the other night with her friend Ping.”
“Yes sir, I did. I hope that meets with your approval.”
The father went on. “Though it is unusual, her mother and I approve in general terms, so long as a chaperone such as her friend Ping is with her. There is much prejudice in China towards personal associations with people from the west, as the recent Uprising has demonstrated only too clearly. We would not like to see Lin’s character questioned, and there is now an increased danger element f
rom such an association. I hope you understand.” Robert nodded.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Pride. Now tell me more about your country. We know so little about it here.”
Robert then told Lin’s father about his country of birth, the city of Sydney where he lived and his own home, his parents and his younger brother Bill.
Lin’s father listened intently and then stated, rather bluntly: “I have heard that you have a White Australia policy, Lieutenant Pride? So perhaps we Chinese are not alone in our prejudices?”
Robert blanched. It was something he had thought little about. “Yes, sir, that is so. My understanding is that it occurred as a consequence of the Gold Rush, when, for example, in the north of Australia there were up to a thousand Chinese a day arriving to work the gold fields. There were actually race riots in the north during this period.”
Lin’s father intervened. “So you can understand, perhaps, why many Chinese want westerners excluded from our country. Just as you want to preserve your own culture, so it is with us.”
Robert nodded. “I had never quite thought of it like that, sir, but I can now see our situations are very similar. But surely that is not how our world should be?”
“I agree”, her father went on. “When I was at Oxford I did not notice any prejudice or personal animosity toward myself. I would hope, and I believe, that in the next and following generations such prejudice will gradually diminish.”
“I also would hope so”, replied Robert. “We have so much to learn from each other.”
“That is so true, Lieutenant. Now, to less serious matters. My family would be honoured if you would have dinner with us. You will not be the first westerner to grace our home, as we have many friends in the British Legation.”
“I would be very honoured, sir.”
“Then perhaps we might agree on next Wednesday night, after the Bible readings. It will be a trifle late, but it is of little concern. You agree?”
