Radio Script #447

Little Talks on Common Things

February 14, 1960

Last week we left William Heath in Hong Kong. There at the end of June, on the opposite side of the earth from his Maine home, William met with a loss that filled him with exasperation and self-accusation. This is what he said about it: “I was born under an unlucky star. March is the month of Mars; Mars is the god of war; and according to good authority, war is the only game at which both parties are losers. So anyone born in March had better expect misfortune. It has surely happened to me. This morning I lost my watch. Oh, how I blush to own it! I am just plain mad with myself. I was offered $45 for that watch by Sam Sing two or three days ago, considering that the case and the mainspring were broken, that was a mighty good offer. It was a gift from my mother, and I told the fellow that nothing could persuade me to part with it; yet I was sorely tempted to accept his offer, since I needed the money very much. I am disgusted with myself. I could do something desperate.”

In 1850 Hong Kong was the base from which many Chinese pirates sailed their junks to prey on ships in the China Sea. Here is the way William Heath described their depredations: “Mr. Ross, a British merchant here, came aboard to see if our captain knew anything about a vessel which had left here a week ago, bound for San Francisco. Mr. Ross says many vessels leave this port and are never heard from again. The pirates even have the impudence to bring to Hong Kong the very goods that had left Hong Kong on vessels that disappeared. Whenever they hear of a vessel being attacked by pirates, the Chinese government sends out a steamer, but it rarely finds the culprits.”

One day William and the ship’s second mate, Santa Cruz, took a walk all over Hong Kong. William was surprised to find the battery fortified by only six guns. By 1850 Europeans and Americans had been for some time in Hong Kong and had already secured many concessions from the imperial government. William commented that there was a very handsome Catholic Church, and that the Episcopalians were erecting a belfry and spire on the church they had built several years earlier. He was amazed to find that the principal street was macadamized and had granite gutters on each side.

Naturally William observed the bound feet of Chinese women. He wrote: “I have always heard that Chinese women have very small feet, but I was not prepared for what I saw. On board last evening were two or three girls 14 to 16 years of age, and not one of them had feet four inches long or four inches in circumference. My thumb and forefinger met easily around one of them. Those girls were very affectionate and I had a terrible time getting them from around my neck. Back home it would have shocked the old Puritans.”

On the first of July William started up the river toward Canton, journeying with a number of other white passengers on a Chinese boat. He wrote: “We are now fairly in China within sight of pagodas and everything peculiar to this country. The sun is very hot, with hardly a breath of air to wake the waves. All the hills along the banks are cut into steps to make tillable terraces.”

That night William was entertained at Wampon by the owner of the river boat on which the American boy was a passenger. He says: “Mr. Wilson and I made a visit to the Chinaman Fu Chi, the compadre of our ship. We went at seven o’clock and were pulled in the sampan up to his door. He met us, shook hands, and led us upstairs to his parlor. We sat down on the sofa and he immediately offered us refreshments, all kinds of wines and liquors, sweetmeats and preserves and Manila cigars. We remained about two hours and enjoyed ourselves very much. He was very polite, and just before we left he had tea and biscuits brought up. And such tea! I had never tasted any so good before. Fu Chi was married when he was sixteen and he has six children. This morning our Captain went up to Canton and wished me to go with him, but I stayed behind to see a bit of Wampon.”

In three days William was back in Hong Kong, where he attended a Chinese festival, or what he calls a joss celebration. On a large stage in the public square were effigies of Chinese warriors and their ladies. It may have been the first puppet show William Heath had ever seen, for he wrote: “The figures moved and appeared to talk to each other; it was very ingenious. There was a tremendous beating of gongs and of hideous sounding instruments.”

On the Fourth of July, 1850 William recorded in his diary: “This is the glorious Fourth, and even here, thousands of miles from home, we celebrated it. At sunrise the American sloop of war Marion, lying in Hong Kong harbor, fired a salute of 21 guns, and on all the American ships here signals were flying from almost every spar. The Captain was invited out to dine, and Mr. Wilson, the mate, determined to have a real Fourth of July dinner. At his request I went on board three other ships and invited their mates to come aboard ours for dinner. We have an excellent meal – flesh, fish and fowl. When I left the table I could hardly see. I bathed my head for an hour in cologne water to get the lead out of it and the scales off my eyelids. We smoked four bunches of cigars and that didn’t help much. I feel a strong desire to sleep, but I won’t until night.”

You will recall that William Heath had intended to remain on the bark Clyde for its return voyage to the United States. He does not say what happened to change his mind, but simply states: “The die is cast and the issue is unknown. I have concluded to stop here, impelled by fate disguised under the mark of circumstances. I shall go to Mr. Smints when the vessel sails.”

Although the diary is not very clear about it, Mr. Smints seems to have been a European merchant in Hong Kong who was ready to give William Heath a job. At any rate on July 9th he went to Mr. Smints’ and was measured for a dozen pairs of trousers, a dozen shirts and two coats, all, as he puts it, “of East Indian style”.

On July 15th William had a thrilling adventure. We will let him tell it in his own words: “Last night Mr. Wilson and I went on board the Barnstable, where I met a Yankee boy about my own age, the son of Captain Timmins. I left Mr. Wilson there and jumped into a sampan to go up to a Chinaman’s by the name of Mo King. I did not know where he lived, but the Compadore had directed one of my boys to his place, so we had no difficulty finding it. We went into the city, where no foreigner is allowed. Leaving me outside the gate, one of the Chinamen went in and soon returned with Mo King. I have been in a good many ticklish places, but I confess in none that hit me worse than this. I was not exactly scared, but I did wish that I was back on board the Clyde or had a rifle and bowie knife or was mounted on my prairie mustang. I had to wait just outside the wall alone at 11 at night and within 40 feet of more than 500 of these piratical Chinese, who would have been only too glad to tie my arms and dump me in a junk. I was relieved when Mo King appeared and I settled my business with him.” Unfortunately William does not tell us what business he had with this Chinese gentleman whom he did not know.

Perhaps the lad was beginning to regret his decision to stay in Hong Kong. On July 17th he wrote: “The ship is expected to sail Saturday, and with it will go all familiar faces, and I shall be left entirely alone. Alone! What a dreadful sound has that word.”

For some unaccountable reason William had a row with Mr. Wilson, the mate of the Clyde. On July 20 William wrote: “My whole judgment of Mr. Wilson has changed and I despise him. All the things he gave me aboard the Clyde I have left there. I retain no remembrance of him except insults. Everybody is kind to me here and I think I shall like it very much with Mr. Smints. I shall write a letter to the folks at home and ask Capt. Kempter to take it to San Francisco on the Clyde.”

On the next page of the diary William returns to the philosophizing that has been his indulgence time and again since he left San Francis~o. This time he says: “When I was at home I never dreamed that in two years I would be in China. It was too improbable. Yet here I am. How strange is destiny. I dare not imagine where I will be even two months from now. Perhaps I shall be wandering destitute and shelterless, unbefriended and unnoticed. But time will develop events now unknown. How unavailing it is to try to see into the future. How many men have dreamed of happiness, then have awakened to bitterness and misery. When Pilate asked, ‘What is truth?’, he demanded an answer that can never be given. The Mohammedan believes that his Heaven is just as enchanting as the Christian Paradise. The American Indian believes that the Happy Hunting Grounds are prepared only for him. What avails it all? What is the power that directs all, that cannot be withstood? What can it do to me that it has not already done? What torture can it inflict that I have not already borne? What anguish is there that I have not suffered? Homeless without a friend to

soothe or direct me, I stand alone and look for aid nowhere but to my own strong will. I lean upon no one for support. I will stand or fall alone.”

Strong words, those, for a sixteen year old boy. There was something strange and awesome, as well as something manly and courageous about this boy who could put in his diary words worthy of the Book of Job.

On August 11th William had a happy surprise. He received at long last a letter from home. Here is his comment upon it: “When Mr. Sweet handed me the letter I was astonished. It was the most agreeable surprise I have had since I left San Francisco. Father shows a good deal of discernment and gives me good advice. He holds out fine inducements for me to return to Maine, but he added an effective butt end in the letter to the Vice-Consul”. It is regrettable that William does not tell us more about the letter which the American Vice-Consul at Hong Kong received from Solyman Heath. Evidently it did not ask that official to put William under arrest and ship him off home as quickly as possible, for nothing like that happened.

All the way across the Pacific William had been writing poetry. On August 13 he tells us that he had sent some verses to a Hong Kong English newspaper and had seen them published. This is what h~ says about it: “Every other day a shipping list is sent down from here to that newspaper. I enclosed my verses in one of those envelopes, and the next day there they were in the paper. The editor, thinking the handwriting was that of Mr. Lima, told Mrs. Wormson of Canton that Mr. Lima had become quite a poet. But one fellow who knew me well declared the writing was mine, not Lima’s. When they came here they all accused me boldly of being the author. Perhaps I shall send in some more stanzas and gather some more roses.”

Those roses did indeed bloom. A week later the same Hong Kong editor stated: “The elegant stanzas published in last week’s issue of the Friend of China were written expressly for this paper by a young, tal.ented American at present residing at Wampon. We hope to have the pleasure of publishing more of this poet’s expressions before he leaves China.”

On August 20th William put into the diary: “Last night was the feast of the lanterns, and all the boats were illuminated and looked beautiful as they moved slowly down the river. A part of the celebration was to the God who takes care of young ladies. I do not know the Chinese name, but we would call him Cupid.”

Next week we shall learn how William Heath left China and where he wandered for many weeks before he got back to his native Maine.

Year: 1960