The North Star and the Southern Cross: being the personal experiences ... of M. W, in a two years' journey round the World

Front matter

THE NORTH STAR AND THE SOUTHERN CEOSS. VOL. I. THE NORTH STAR AND THE SOUTHERN CROSS BEING THE PERSONAL EXPERIENCES, IMPRESSIONS, AND OBSERVATIONS OF MARGARETHA WEPPNEK, IN A TWO YEARS' JOURNLY ROUND THE WORLD. TWO VOLUMES. Vol. I. LONDON: SAMPSON LOW, MAESTON, LOW, AND SEARLE, CROWN BUILDINGS, 188, FLEET STREET. 1875. All Rights reserved. londox : vr1nted by william clowes and sons, ST-AHFOIH) STBKET AND CHARING CROSS. TO MY KIND AND BENEVOLENT FRIEND, PETEE COOPEE, ESQ., THE WELL-KNOWN PHILANTHROPIST AND FOUNDER OF THE "COOPER UNION*' IN NEW YOHK, A FREE INSTITUTION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF KNOWLEDGE, SCIENCE, AND AHT ; AND WHO IN HIS USEFUL AND EXEMPLARY LIFE HAS ATTAINED THE VENERABLE AGE OF 87 YEARS, I geukatc tht0 llavratibr, IN GRATEFUL REMEMBRANCE. MAEGABETHA WEPPNEE CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

Introduction

. TACE Brief sketch of early life — Domestic unhappiness — Novitiate in convent of Angelic Sisters at Augsburg — Empty sanctimoniousness — Fate of a rich miller's daughter — Breach of confidence — Miraculous " Walburga " oil — Exercises to test a spiritual vocation — Withdrawal from the convent — Acquaintance with a Polish " chevalier " at Frankfort — Departure from that city ... 1

Chapter I

Illness at Wiesbaden — Employment as interpreter in Paris Exhibition — Return home, and proposal of marriage from the young Pole — Unexpected revelations of Polish life in Paris — Marriage with Polish " chevalier d'industrie " fortunately broken off — His arrest — Straitened circumstances caused by his swindling — Painful suspense through needless delay — Ecclesiastical dispensations for money — Providential recovery of a lost pocket-book — Arrival at Havre, aud meeting with a victim of the Polish counterfeit bank-note swindlers — Kind friends defray expenses of voyage to New York 26

Chapter II

Departure of the steamer Pereire — Life on board — Death of a young American passenger — Unpleasant pecuniary reflections — Kindness at New York of some passengers and of Captain Johnson — Dishonest coachmen — Peculiar views of justice at the City Hall, New- York — Endeavours to obtain remunerative occupation — Hard work of Americans, and its substantial results — Favourable reflections on American education — Unfavourable comparison of municipal arrangements — Effects of German immigration — Kindness of Dr. Huttner — Intended Manual for German immigrants — Arrival in Boston — Free railway passes to San Francisco .... CONTENTS. VIII 233

Chapter III

pa6b Departure from New York — Homesick and sad — Philadelphia — Mr. Kreutzner — Mr. Scott, vice-president of the Pennsylvania Railroad — Pittsburg — Cleveland — Niagara Falls — Chicago — Dixon — Mississippi — New Jefferson (Iowa) — Omaha (Nebraska) — PrairieB — Salt Lake City— Brighamy, Bigamy, and the Mormons — Union and Central Pacific Roads — Sierra Nevada — San Francisco — Retrospect . ......... 107 CHAPTER TV. Departure for Japan — The Pacific Ocean — A dark woman — The mystery of life — Reflection — General Tom Thumb, his good wife and little Minnie — My friends, Captain Hubbard, and Mr. Brown, a kindhearted Scotchman — My fear on approaching the shore — Niphon — Yokohama — Disappointment and tears — A few noble friends — The chivalrous behaviour of the English and the Americans towards me . , . 163

Chapter V

Native men and women — A high-born official from my home — Jeddo, the capital — A contemptible feUow-countryman — Hotel Niphon — The value of a true friend — An old gipsy — Mr. S. my escort — Excursions — Tea gardens — The drunken people in the streets — Mr. S. and the sad end of his mother — A warning to parents in the West — Intemperance and immorality .... 196

Chapter VI

Rooms not man-proof — Fright — Fearing Jeddo and hating Yokohama, my friend takes me back— Kind-hearted Mr. and Mrs. Goble — The torn purse and my advice — Departure — Triumph and tears — Captain H. my friend to the last — Hiogo — Kind ladies — Nagasaki — Beautiful scenery — Shanghai — Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson — Che-foo — Tien-tsin — Sisters of Mercy — Arrival in Pekin. CHAPTER Yn. What a ruin ! —What a labyrinth of horrors ! — The " treacherous " emerald meadows — Dr. Dudgeon and his wife, and Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Edkins— Nantang — Abbe R., a little king, and Consul Wenzel CONTENTS. IX I'AGH — Excursions in and around the capital — The Great Wall — An invitation from the little king — Alas ! that I had never written that letter ! — My escort to the valley of Buddha . . .281

Chapter VIII

Tho Buddhist temple, Ta-chiao-ssu — "Miss W., my lady" — A sumptuous table and a poor company — Under the acacia-tree — A weepingwillow — A letter unheaded andunsigned — An underling — Mr. F., a chivalrous Teuton, and my only friend in the valley- Return to Pekin on the third day — Farewell on the high-road — Departure for Tien-tsin — Terror on the road — Return to Pekin — The massacre — Second departure — Our fleet — The " guardian angel" — Danger — Chung-how ...... 329

Chapter IX

The grave of the Sisters of Mercy — Departure for Che-foo — The slander of the little king — Dreary days — The news of the Franco- German War — The frigate Medusa — A desperate hour or! the beach — God and nature my comfort — My friend, the horseman from the valley — Reflection on the horrors of war . . . 377

Chapter X

Departure — Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Nelson, my kind friends — Consul- General Annecke — Hong-Kong — A mistake — Canton — Return to Hong-Kong — An uncharitable countryman and his wife — Macao — Sin, Naming and Captain Drage ...... 401

Chapter XI

Canton — Archdeacon Gray — Excursions — A lucky or unlucky grave — Geomancers — White Cloud Mountain — A happy Christmas — The extreme goodness of my host — Hong-Kong once more — Kindness of an English and an American gentleman — Two free passages to Calcutta — The last of the little king in the North — A kind letter from an English clergyman in Pekin — Departure for Singapore — A reflection — Saigon in Cochin China THE NOETH STAR AND THE SOUTHERN CROSS.

INTRODUCTION.

. Before inviting the reader to accompany me on my long journey round the world, I must introduce myself to him hy a brief sketch of my previous life, and state how it came about that I, a lone woman, undertook so perilous an enterprise. I was not, like many, impelled by a desire to travel, but, as the sequel will show, was led to this course by one of those poignant griefs which often cast their shadow across a whole life, and tinge even its brightest days with an indefinable melancholy, even after the main cause of suffering has passed away from what may be called active recollection. Early thrown on the world and my own resources, I became involved in a chain of circumstances which, after many struggles, ended in this tour, from which I returned, restored to peace of mind, and the richer by a fund of valuable and varied experience.

Notwithstanding the hardships to which I have been VOL. i. b exposed, I was neither born nor reared in poverty. My family might have been maintained in affluence but for an unfortunate weakness of its head, viz., a too decided predisposition to make money as profitable as possible in its returns. The mere hint of an outlay for domestic purposes, or the least loss, at once disturbed our household peace and caused many unhappy days. Long before I was old enough to understand why, I knew that my mother was a suffering woman ; and some times when, after long searching, I used to find her in a retired room, my childish question, " Mother, why do you cry so ? " would but increase her grief as she pressed me tenderly to her heart. Despite my mother's wish to give me every advantage, I received only a common school education ; still, through many difficulties, I succeeded in acquiring a knowledge of several languages, and in becoming somewhat familiar with music.

I left my father's roof at an early age, and the separation from my mother and my birthplace was a crushing grief to me for many years. I went to Nancy, where I taught German in a private school consisting of four classes of seventy girls, in return for which I was instructed in French and music, and received my board. Later, I taught German and French in England, learning English on the same terms, and was thus enabled after wards to teach both English and French in Germany. By a similar exchange I also acquired Italian, availing myself of every spare moment during the day and a great part of the night to complete my studies. I gradually succeeded, by means of my acquirements, in saving a ' little money, and had the satisfaction of affording my mother and sisters little pleasures and indulgences, of which they would otherwise have been deprived.

My father's indifference grieved me deeply, because I yearned for his affection, which, knowing his weakness, I endeavoured to purchase. My father is a Khinelander, and loves the Bhine and its beautiful banks, or rather the rich vineyards that cover them, as well as the poet who writes, '■First to purple grape we'll sing, Then pledge ye the flowing Rhine; For the river does but water bring, But the grape gives the sweetest wine." When a vineyard was purchased, and an instalment of the purchase-money became due, I sent my father such sums as I could spare, in the hope of at least winning his approbation by humouring his peculiar weakness. I utterly failed to produce any impression by my well meant but ill-considered attempt, and at the same time deprived myself of what might have served me in a sub sequent calamity.

A disease of the eyes, to which I became subject through over-exertion, necessitated the suspension of my studies. I was obliged to leave London for Paris, where Dr. Wertheimer performed some slight operations on my eyes, and a cure appeared for a time to be the result. A few months after I again went to Nancy, to enter a boarding-school, and it was at this time that I made the acquaintance of a Miss F., who had a considerable share in shaping my future course. Being constantly oppressed with the thought of a home less life, I entertained the idea of entering a convent, to see whether, after the most rigid self-scrutiny, I could b decide upon making it my home, passing my life in seclusion and usefulness. Miss F. was an extremely discreet and diplomatic Catholic, thoroughly versed in all conventual interests, which she understood how to further with pious eloquence.

She was chiefly connected with the convent of the Angelic Sisters at Augsburg, where she was always received with the greatest consideration. When Miss F. found that I wished to enter a convent on probation, she at once overwhelmed me with her fervid eloquence. It was, in her eyes, the only thing on earth which gave a foretaste of a better life : there was but one place which afforded a godly refuge from the ills of the world, and that was the convent at Augsburg. " The sisters there are really not earthly beings," exclaimed Miss F., in her enthusiasm ; " they are all angels, I assure you." I was accordingly introduced to the superior as a rara avis, a costly pearl destined to enrich the angelic chain. But, alas ! before this could be done, the pearl of price was found spurious. I was thrust from the company of the saints, and was once more compelled to take my chance of becoming an angel among ordinary mortals.

Although disposed from the outset to take this step, I was determined on no account to remain in the convent if I found that I could not do so conscientiously. The disapproval of my friends made me still more uncertain ; when it came to the point, however, it seemed the only thing to do, and I determined at least to try. Besides my introduction to the superior, I had letters to Miss Camille S., a young lady who was likewise a teacher in the convent, on the recommendation of Miss F. I stopped at Strasburg on my way, where I had friends, and while there I paid a visit to the grand old cathedral. The solemn gloom which pervades this magnificent house of God affects the mind like a deepen ing twilight. Here slumber the eternal mysteries in unbroken silence ; the Unseen wraps the soul and senses, and we are filled with awe at the nearness of the Divine presence.

Crossing the main entrance I was reminded of Margaret of Anjou, daughter of King Rene, who after the death of her husband, Henry the Sixth of England, came to this portal disguised as a beggar to meet the Earl of Oxford returning from an important mission to Italy. The proud queen offered her last remaining treasure, a costly diamond necklace, to obtain the means of carrying on the war against her antagonists, and to reconquer her crown ; but she found help neither in England nor on the Continent, and finally died broken-hearted at her father's court, amidst the strains of the Troubadours, for whom King Kene had sent to cheer his afflicted daughter. The sweet music, moving Death to pity, gave the poor queen peace, consigning ambition and revenge to the grave. After having spent a few days in Strasburg, I resumed my journey.

My friends took leave of me at the station, with doubts as to my sanity, when they found I was about to immure myself in a convent ; but I considered it was my duty at least to try, and bore their reproaches with patience. The train left Strasburg, and in a few minutes we reached Kehl, the custom-house station between France and Baden. At Nancy, Miss F. had intrusted to my care several hundred francs' worth of nuns' veils, bidding me smuggle them over the border, and, in order to facilitate this, she had packed the veils in a double bottomed trunk. The official asked me if I had anything to declare. I had never smuggled, and now to make my debut in this peculiar branch of business seemed doubly bold and sinful. I therefore answered the official's question with an unusually emphatic "Yes," and lifted the several compartments of my trunk.

Of course they contained nothing liable to duty, and the puzzled officer repeatedly asked where the goods were stowed; I pointed to the double bottom of my trunk, and at last the sacred veils made their appearance. " You must have intended to smuggle these goods," said the officer smiling, " otherwise, why did you hide them ? " "No such suspicions, I beg, sir. The use for which these goods are intended renders them too precious to be with the rest of my things. These are nuns' veils," said I, laughing in my turn — strong presumptive evidence of my unfitness of the assumption of one. I paid five florins duty on them, and went my way. The nearer I got to the convent, the less I wished to enter it. I had constantly to recall the insinuating words of Miss F. to keep up my failing courage. I pictured to myself how happy I should be, were grace vouchsafed me to withdraw from the world.

What more could I desire than to work for and devote myself to others ? I thought how good and kind the nuns would be to me, for had not Miss F. told me that they were angels ? Notwithstanding these arguments, I found a pretext for staying at Stuttgart, in order to defer the dreaded event. Thinking I should hereafter need money no more, I went to the best hotel. My dinner was choice and expensive, affording me ample opportunity for reflecting on the luxury and extravagance of the world; still, I am bound to confess that I saw no reason for refusing the best that was set before me. After this sumptuous dinner I returned to the station more down cast than before, and resumed my journey to Augsburg. On my arrival I engaged a carriage and ordered the driver to take me to the convent of the Angelic Sisters ; but thinking that I was too fatigued by my long journey to go at once to my destination and subject myself to the unavoidable emotion of an affectionate reception, I told the coachman to drive to a good hotel.

It seemed advisable to be fortified against the coming ordeal by a good night's rest, and I entered my room with the feeling of one who has escaped from a great misfortune. I was no sooner alone than all my courage gave way, and I burst into a flood of tears, nor did I show myself again until the following afternoon, when I once more started for the convent of the Angelic Sisters. I was kindly, very kindly received. The pious sisters all beamed with goodness. At bedtime I was shown to the dormitory of the candidates, and assigned a corner near the door of the hall, where every one going in and out of the room had to pass my bed. I had hardly breathed convent air, and already felt oppressed. With a deep sigh I took possession of my corner, which, on the following day, and at my urgent request, was made more private by a screen.

There may be much that is good in the interior arrange ments of convents, but it is certainly wrong to crowd some twenty adult women into a single room, with just space enough between each bed for its occupant to stand up and make her bed and toilet ; it is at once an outrage on delicacy and a danger to health, especially as fresh air is entirely excluded. I may here add that I have found exactly similar arrangements in the many convents I have visited, where teachers, pupils, candidates, and novices are subjected to the same treatment. I have never been in an American or English convent, but I hope that in this respect, as well as in others, concessions have been made which never would be made in a Koman Catholic country. At half-past four in the morning a nun with a lantern passed through the hall to wake a sister whose cell led out of the dormitory ; this was the signal for all to rise and say their prayers whilst making their beds and dressing.

There was not much devotion in this mechanical mumbling, at which I found myself growing more indignant than edified ; but it must be remembered that this method of praying was new to me. A few days after, I received instructions respecting my daily routine. My duties as a teacher were light, and I had nothing to complain of, until the peculiar restrictions of convent life began to fetter me. To my amazement I began to see numberless evils of every description and extent develope themselves quite as strongly as in the naughty world without. The weight of bondage gradually imposed upon body and soul is torture ; it becomes agony to a being gifted with even ordinary power of reflection to feel the mind crippled in its healthy action by perverted teaching, and the body breaking down under unnatural restrictions.

All this is necessary, however, to maintain the seclusion of these institutions, which will exist so long as men and women can be found sufficiently perverted to administer them, and others silly enough to accept such mummeries as a religious discipline. There are some who retire from the world in order to devote themselves to a life of usefulness and self-denial. These are the Sisters of Mercy, to whose ministrations the sick, the poor, and the forsaken testify with thankfulness in every part of the world. The chief object of most orders is to lead an easy, independent life ; to found rich convents and amass wealth ; in many cases to obtain a powerful but secret influence, and exercise extortion and oppression in various forms, which serves rather to strengthen than diminish the blind tolerance of a selfish, sensuous, and useless existence.

Though at that time a good Catholic, and free from all prejudice, I was still doubtful whether I should be able to devote myself to this sort of life. I fully believed all the good I had heard of it, and considered it im possible that any evil could exist in connection with it. My illusions were, however, very soon dispelled, for I not only learned to consider evil possible in convents, but found it actually raging. The assurance of my friend, Miss F., that all the sisters in this convent were angels, needed only qualifying by an adjective. After entering the convent, it soon became clear to me that I had no " vocation," at least not what passes by that name among those who believe themselves the elect. The faults prevalent in convents most repulsive to a truthful and sympathetic nature are, harshness, heartless ness, hypocrisy, and petty ambition.

The bowed sanctimonious walk of the sisters implies a constant attitude of prayer. The downcast eye, the persuasive, whimpering voice, what an example to a truthful, untrammelled nature ! Now and then a forced smile and a deeper drooping of the eyelids relieves the cold, apathetic features of the saintly ladies when they receive the tribute due to their station, which consists in kissing the hand. This is a custom, not a duty ; but displeasure certainly attaches to those who fail to practise humility, a virtue which, in this form, is at times anything but agreeable. Where in our days is there in the civilised world a sovereign who demands the hand-kiss and genuflexion ? What person in authority would suffer an inferior to approach him crouching upon the ground? Yet this is exacted among the Angelic Sisters.

I saw a poor lay sister approach the superior, crawling on her knees to give the kiss of humility. This self-abasement is required by nuns — whether or not by angels I do not know ; and yet the superior takes the vow of humility equally with the poorer sister. I, too, was required to play an unwilling part ; the reader may believe me, it was very repulsive. But who can go upon the stage without acting ? Those who desire to remain true to themselves belong to the world, and not to the convent. From the hour of my arrival I was closely watched, in order to see how I conformed to the prevailing spirit, or, as the phraseology went, to " see if I would do." The superior frequently sent for me, and never dismissed me without asking if I felt the " vocation." I was not attracted by this lady, and the very thought of visiting her apartment made me feel uncomfortable.

She always received me kindly enough, but the conversation which followed was cold, measured, and conventual. She never uttered a sympathising word, nor did she seem anxious to learn anything touching my life, and my natural frankness became utterly paralysed in her presence. It was easy to see, however, that I was considered an eligible candidate for the veil, because the superior herself offered to furnish my outfit, which, in this convent, costs a considerable sum. The spiritual bride is required to bring a rich trousseau. Fine linen must be provided in sets of dozens. The outer garments, though conventual, were made of the costliest and finest fabrics ; the silk for the long mantles and the soft grenadine veils being mostly imported from France, and everything was so amply provided, that renewal was seldom required in a lifetime.

Even this generous offer did not tempt me. I would have yielded more readily to a little sympathy and kind ness ; besides, I discerned a feeling of selfishness at the bottom of it all, for I was aware that my knowledge of languages would be a valuable acquisition to the large school connected with the convent. In Miss Camille S. I found a warm friend ; she had learned to despise as much as I did the empty sancti moniousness of the life around her. Camille was the French teacher in the school, and was not much liked by the nuns on account of her open, energetic nature. She did not intend to take the veil, and was quite independent of the convent, often declaring that she could not stay her year out, because she felt she was becoming too much skilled in deceit, which she said was a strong predisposition to a vocation, and must be resisted.

I suffered much by reason of poor and insufficient food ; and it is amazing to me how opulent parents can subject their growing daughters to years of such privation. The poor children have no opportunity of complaining, because they are never allowed to see their relatives alone : all letters are read before being sent out, and none are given to the pupils unopened. Many were the complaints I heard, many the tears I saw shed, which, if detected by the prying eyes of a nun, and the child questioned, were always explained by a falsehood. The children were afraid to tell the truth. In a few weeks I became so exhausted for want of nourishing food, that I begged the sister stewardess to allow me a glass of ale, which was used freely in the convent. I needed something to give me an appetite for my coarse supper, and to make up for its scantiness, and I told her that hunger kept me awake at night.

Of course it was denied, and my complaint to the superior was dismissed with the brief remark that it was against the rules to allow it. It required patience and endurance to lead this life for six months, to listen to the long prayers at our scanty meals, and to know that the sisters denied themselves no thing, while teachers and pupils were starved for the glory of God, or in other words, for the benefit of the convent. My friend Camille, who, like myself, often suffered from hunger, found means, ready-witted as she was, to obtain better rations. Camille reported herself ill regularly once a week. She had discovered that patients were always supplied t from the nuns' table, and there was no other means of satisfying their hunger . than by simulating illness. " To-morrow," said Camille to me one evening, " I shall leave the class and report myself sick.

Come to me at half-past twelve, and you will be con vinced of the excellence of the nuns' fare, before you profess to have no ' vocation.' There will be soup, meat, and vegetables of the best kind, and a delicate nuns' dessert." I visited her at the appointed time, and found her enjoying a goodly meal. " It is so delicious," said Camille. " Do have a headache, or something that is not dangerous, and make them give you a good dinner for once. I am so sorry for you ! " They served better meals in the dormitories, because the doctor, as an outsider, was not to know what sort of food was prepared for the pupils. This time it was not necessary for me to resort to Camille's ruse to satisfy my hunger ; for, to my joy be it said, I was obliged to keep my room with a swollen face, and while this lasted I found ample time to dispose of any doubt concerning the excellence of the nuns' fare, and it was with regret that Camille and I saw the swell ing disappear.

For two months I had not been allowed to go into the open air, when one day, early in April, I received per mission to go into the garden. I had been there barely five minutes when I was seized with violent vertigo. I leaned against the wall; a deadly faintness came over me, and I slipped to the ground. When I became con scious I found myself in bed with a high fever. Outraged nature had revolted against the want of food, light, and air, for it was this which had so weakened me that I could no longer support the bracing spring weather. I soon recovered, however, and entered upon my duties as usual. The children of the class to which I was assigned became very much attached to me, especially one charming little girl, who became devotedly fond of me, as children will sometimes be of a particular person.

This was noticed by the supervising nun, and the child was severely reprimanded for her innocent affection, and on no account was I permitted to caress little Lina. No child in the school dared to show its real disposition, and yet these warm-hearted little creatures, how gladly would they have lavished their affection on any one who was kind to them ! Miss F., my acquaintance of smuggling memory, who had persuaded me to come to Augsburg, had particularly recommended me to a nun, whom, since my arrival, I visited daily between five and six. She was agreeable, and considered highly intellectual. I was a good deal interested in her, until a breach of confidence on her part severed our friendship. This resulted in the expul sion of an orphan girl, who would have been left home less and helpless had there not existed more merciful hearts to give her protection and shelter.