When the first group of loud, mocking students arrived, Jonathan signaled for Wang Fulin to take over preaching to the other guests while he gathered up the students and invited them back to his study. Jonathan welcomed the students and watched quietly as they were drawn to the globe he had deliberately placed on the center of his desk.
“What’s that big ball?” asked one of the students.
Jonathan pretended to be surprised that anyone had noticed it. “Oh,” he replied casually. “That’s a small model of what the earth looks like.”
“No! It can’t be!” exclaimed a second student. “We all know the earth is as flat as a piece of paper.”
“Yes,” agreed another. “If it were a ball we would all be standing on a curve, not a flat surface.”
“Not so fast,” replied Jonathan. “Let me show you how we know the earth is a ball and how it turns and moves around the sun.”
“Ha,” interrupted another student. “I have never heard anything so ridiculous. Why, if the earth turned, we would fall off at the bottom!”
Everyone laughed loudly, and Jonathan waited patiently for them to calm down. Once they were quiet, he set about explaining to them gravity and the way the planets revolve around the sun.
As the students began to understand what Jonathan was talking about, their jeering stopped and they concentrated closely on what he had to say. It was the first time they had encountered “Western” science and its explanations of how and why the earth and the solar system work the way they do. The students were soon clamoring to know more.
After an hour or so of discussing science and answering the students’ questions, Jonathan turned the conversation to God. He explained how God was not represented by an endless array of gold-covered Buddhas and other idols but rather could be known through studying the Bible and being open to its message.
Many students were fascinated by what Jonathan told them, and they came back day after day to visit him in his study. It wasn’t long before a number of them had decided to become Christians. After their conversions, these students went back to their villages and towns to spread the gospel. As a result of the efforts of Jonathan and all of those at the mission station, Christian groups began to spring up all over the Changte area, until by 1900 there were over fifty groups of Christians meeting together regularly.
Not everyone was happy that Western science or religion, or any other kind of thinking, was gaining a foothold in the ancient land of China. The country was in political turmoil, and as a new century approached, China’s future looked bleak.
Jonathan had great sympathy for the Chinese people’s predicament. He knew that many countries, including Great Britain, the United States, Germany, France, Italy, Russia, and Japan all had their own selfish plans for China. They had met together and arranged to “carve up” China into what they called “spheres of influence.” What this basically meant was that they had agreed together that each nation would take control over the trade from a certain area of China, making enormous profits for themselves and sharing little of them with the local Chinese people.
A secret society called the League of Righteous and Harmonious Fists, or Boxers, as they came to be known, sprang up to help protect China from this foreign intrusion. Its methods, however, were harsh and brutal. The members roamed eastern China, killing missionaries and traders and burning down foreign-owned buildings.
By March 1900, conditions had become very tense in the countryside. It became dangerous to travel because of the bands of thieves who waited outside the city walls. One by one, the services that connected Changte to the outside world were cut off. By June there were no more mail deliveries, and food was getting scarce. To make matters worse, there was a terrible drought in the area. Each night the wail of people pleading with their gods for rain at the various temples and shrines around Changte filled the air.
In the midst of all of this uproar, another tragedy struck the Goforths. Their seven-year-old daughter, golden-haired Florence, became ill with meningitis. Jonathan and Rosalind watched helplessly as once again another of their children died. They buried Florence beside her sister Grace. The family hardly had time to mourn, though. A few days after Florence’s death on June 19, 1900, a messenger from the American consul in Chefoo slipped quietly into the mission compound under the cover of darkness. He had risked his life to bring the missionaries a letter.
The letter was brief and to the point. “Flee south. Northern route cut off by Boxers,” it read. Jonathan read the note and then checked the date at the top of the page. It was dated June 2. His heart dropped. The letter had been written almost three weeks before. There was no way of knowing whether the southern route was still open or whether they should escape in another direction. Jonathan sank to his knees and prayed. The lives of his wife and children rested on what he decided they should do next.
Chapter 8
Headed West
Mrs. Cheng told me an official courier came through Changte today on his way to Kaifengfu to deliver a message to the governor of Honan. Did you hear anything about it?” Rosalind Goforth whispered to her husband.
Jonathan looked up from the books he was packing into a box. “No,” he replied, also keeping his voice low so as not to wake the children, who were sleeping in the next room. “Did she say anything else about it?”
“I’m afraid so,” responded his wife. “She said he had a burnt feather in his cap and that he wore the emblem of the empress dowager.”
“A burnt feather?” repeated Jonathan, the color draining from his face. It could mean only one thing: The courier was carrying a message of life or death importance. And given the rebellion in the countryside, it was most likely bad news, at least for foreigners. Jonathan suspected it could well be an order for the governor to round up all the foreigners left in his province and kill them.
“God promises in the Bible that He will lead us as a shepherd leads his sheep. That’s our only hope, Rosalind,” Jonathan finally said after thinking for a few moments about the courier with the burnt feather. “Let’s pray we do the right thing.”
Jonathan got little sleep that night. Most of the bedding had already been bundled up and loaded onto the convoy of ten hired ox-drawn carts that waited outside in the compound courtyard. As he tossed and turned, part of him wanted to stay with the other Christians at Changte, but it was too dangerous to do so, and they would not hear of it. “Go,” they said. “You have done your part in bringing us the Good News. We are able to stand whatever comes, but you must take your family and go while it is still possible. We may be allowed to live, but you will surely be killed.”
After receiving the warning from the American consul in Chefoo to flee, Jonathan had decided to bundle his family up and head for Fancheng in southern Honan province. There he hoped to hire a houseboat to take his family and the other missionaries at the Changte compound on the ten days’ journey downriver to Hankow on the coast. Originally he had planned to take the more direct route south to Fancheng, but as he had thought about it, a strong feeling came over him that they should head in a westward direction first before looping around to get to their destination. It would be a much longer journey of two weeks by cart, but Jonathan could find no peace about taking the shorter route.
Finally Jonathan heard the clock strike 4 a.m. It was time to begin the long and dangerous journey. An hour and a half later, the Goforth family, along with nine other missionaries from the compound, among them Dr. Leslie, John Griffith, and the McKenzies and their son Douglas, were ready to go. Mrs. Cheng and Wang Fulin also insisted on accompanying them. Scores of Chinese Christians stood silently in the darkness waiting to say good-bye to the missionaries. After tying a few last items onto a wagon, Jonathan waved the convoy forward out the gate. Sitting on the lead wagon beside Wang Fulin was Rosalind, who cradled their newest baby, six-month-old Wallace, in her arms. Three-year-old Ruth sat beside her, sobbing loudly, while Helen rode on the fourth cart. She sat straight-backed, looking anxiously towards the gate and the dangers that lay beyond. Paul, on the other hand, scurried around, running between the carts, trying to help with last-minute preparations before climbing onto the cart beside his father.
Jonathan allowed himself one last look around the compound, studying the courtyard where he had preached to many thousands of Chinese people. He looked towards the study, where he had helped students unlock the wonders of the earth and the solar system, and towards the kitchen, where he and Rosalind had spent so many happy hours studying and praying together. Lastly, he diverted his eyes to the tree under which his two daughters were buried. He wondered whether he would ever be back in Changte, and if he did come back, would there be a single Chinese Christian left alive to greet him? Tears welled in his eyes as he thought about the trials that surely lay ahead for all of them, both those staying in Changte and those leaving.
A yell brought Jonathan back to the present. “God guide you every step and keep you safe, Pastor!” called out Mr. Ho, one of the church workers.
Jonathan cracked the reins. As the oxcart lunged forward, he gave one last wave to the crowd gathered to bid them farewell.
For six days they struggled slowly westward. There were many times when mobs challenged their right to be on the road, and the cry of “Foreigners! Kill the foreigners!” would go up from the crowds that gathered alongside the roads leading in and out of the villages. On the seventh day, Jonathan was very relieved when they met up with a group of foreign engineers who were also fleeing the uprising. The engineers had large wagons and armed guards to escort them to Fancheng, where they also planned to hire boats to take them to Hankow, and then go on to Shanghai.
By the time the joint party arrived at the village of Hsintien, the missionaries were exhausted. The lack of water and the burning hot sun had combined to sap their energy and, as Jonathan noted, the oxen’s energy as well. It was obvious they needed to rest for a few days before traveling on. The engineers were in much better shape, since they had not come as far and were traveling in more comfortable wagons. To Jonathan’s dismay, they announced they wanted to press on ahead as quickly as possible. However, they told Jonathan they were loath to leave the missionaries alone and insisted on leaving behind an armed guard on horseback for their protection.
In Hsintien, hundreds of eyes must have seen the party of engineers and all but one of their armed escorts leave early in the morning, because within minutes an angry mob had gathered outside the inn. Jonathan held Ruth close to him as he and the other missionaries listened as the crowd began to throw rocks against the doors and windows. Finally Mr. Griffith spoke. “I don’t think we should stay here. I know it’s not safe to go outside, but I don’t see what choice we have.”
“You don’t expect us to go out there and harness the oxen do you?” asked the owner of one of the hired carts.
“I won’t go!” exclaimed a second man. “That cart is all I own.”
Jonathan sighed deeply. Since the carts and the oxen were hired, without cooperation from their owners there was no way out for the missionaries. “What if we sign a statement saying we will pay for any damages to your cart and for any oxen that might be injured or killed?” he asked one of the owners.
Even with this offer, none of the cart owners were eager to continue the journey. Eventually, after an agreement was written up and signed, they begrudgingly began to harness the oxen, which had spent the night in the stable next door.
When the cart owners had left, Jonathan took a copy of Clarke’s Scripture Promises from his front pocket and began to read from the small book. All of the missionaries listened as he read promise after promise about how God would go with them and protect them. Jonathan was sure that everyone, even three-year-old Ruth, understood some of the risks that lay ahead on their perilous journey. It was still a long way to Fancheng, and they didn’t have a single friend they could count on along the way. After Jonathan finished reading, the group prayed together, and a wonderful peace came over them all. No matter what happened, they understood they were in God’s hands.
