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Copyright 2001-7 by Sue Brown & Dr. Bill Order Books Xiamenguide Forum
Amoy Mission Main Page 
Note: Please click thumbnails for larger photos
"The China Story--Recollections of a Little Girl's Life in Amoy, China" (1851-1859)  Part 2
by Mary Augusta Doty Smith, Daughter of Elihu Doty, RCA Missionary to China, 1844-1864
Part 1     Part 2      Part 3      Part 4      Part 5      Part 6    Elihu Doty Page     Amoy Mission
Ms. Jean Watson, Secretary, New Jersey Postal History Society, and author of "Doty's Garden", providing this copy of Mary Augusta Doty Smith's (1851-1937) fascinating 80-page account of her first eight years of life on Amoy.  (She is nicknamed "Pussie" in the story).
Mr. Elwood, Geiger,of South Dakota, a descendant of Elihu Doty, kindly provided the Doty photos, and permission to use Mary Doty's story.  Mary J. Geiger was given a carbon copy, with handwritten corrections and additions, and retyped it in Spring, 1972.
Obtain more Doty infofrom Reformed Church of America (RCA) archives at www.rca.org

Continued from Part 1
[Communication then and now]  Think of the contrast¡ªbetween that day of burdened and anxious waiting for months, for good or ill news; and this day when a few hours' time circles the globe, while day by day, if needed, communication can be made!

Soon after getting settled in their new home, a typhoon tore off the roof and let water pour in on them, which involved hurried moving to temporary shelter until a better building could be raised.

It appears as if father were somewhat of an architect, for among his papers there are drawings made to scale of the interior of the new home and also of the exterior as it would appear when completed, all in his own penmanship.

My brother Charley came late in 1849, and my birthday was in September, '51. One of the first experiences met by my parents was in connection with the ¡°Taiping Rebellion¡± In which "Chinese Gordon", as he was called, was British leader and here on the English side. I remember being shown a bullet hole in a stair rise behind which mother with her babe, Charley, in her arms was in hiding for protection against Chinese and British bullets, which flew all about the house.

One had come through this stair rise, just above her head. We often looked with awe at another, imbedded In a window casing, which came in at this same period.
Another time, within my own remembrance, there was a riot on the streets and wharfs about us. At breakfast father talked to mother in a serious, anxious tone, which¡ªlittle child as I was¡ªI felt troubled over. When shots and screams were heard, and later I saw bloody bodies floating by, I was taken away by mother or father (for he was always a helper, and guardian and caretaker), very naturally as we would think now, but I remember wanting to get back to the window, but was hindered!

A later time brought the scene of a quarrel in a boat at high tide, in which the boat upset; and when the tide went out, under the verandah windows was the body of one of the men. Charley was with me this time, and we were quickly led away; always there was the need of alertness in guarding the children from distressing or evil scenes. An insane man was chained between two logs, in a sail yard opposite our side windows, and left to cry and scream; and in a severe storm, the yard was flooded; and still he was there, causing tears of pity in parents and children. I often think of this scene, when reading of the demoniac among the stones in the Bible story.

I cannot follow events in sequence, or give assurance of their being really correct; and some of the maturer pictures had been made clear to me through having read their accounts in letters written by mother to her home circle. They were all included within seven full years, (for me) four of which must have held very dim, or no memories.    Sam came late in '53, so there was a baby to love and watch over.

[Boxes from Home]   As long back as my memory can carry, boxes came from the homeland, from family and friends. Very dimly, at first, is the impress made. It seemed something very unusual had been happening, and great exclamations and greetings from friends who came in to see the things and talk them over.

Then, in time, there came a box with daguerreotypes, and tears of joy and brushing them away and talking softly over them¡ª¡°this was ma¡± and ¡°this pa¡±¡ªO! so good and precious to look upon and pore over. And there were books for the children suitable for our tender age, and older ones as we grew older. Perhaps the wonderful Rollo books , which we pored over with thrills all the days we lived in Amoy, or "Songs for Little Children at Home". Clothes were sometimes sent, wonderful ones we thought, and when they were for the children, we thought they looked like the ones worn by the girls and boys in the Rollo books,¡ªlike American children¡ªthe height of our ambition.

Dried cherries and preserved currants¡ªso happily received by our parents¡ªwere just little hard stones and seeds to us, which we did not like! Methods of sending to the Tropics, with long months of salt sea air surrounding them, had not developed, as in our day, and many things would not bear transportation. Only dried fruits could be counted on, as apples and cherries.

A trial was made of sending fresh apples, wrapped thoroughly in paper and in other ways protected. I can recall mother's and father's eagerness over them, as they unwrapped one, with bated breath, to see and taste the first fresh apple since they left "home", right from one of their choicest trees! But it was a solid mass of black decay! Then another one was unwrapped¡ªjust as spoiled! I remember mother saying, "Maybe there will be one good one, so we must try every one." But, alas, to no purpose! Then there was a bit of silence, while we children wondered.

A quilt was sent, quite early in the years, I think. Each one of many friends had made a block¡ªwith name and sentiment in the center¡ªout of print material that mother would recognize as worn by friends in the homeland. The blocks were joined by white strips and on these, the names of all the brothers and father, and friends among her acquaintance, had been written, some with sentiments attached. Even "old Jack" and "Granny" and other colored members of the family asked an "humble corner" written by grandmother's own hand.

Whenever mother was sick, or just resting a day off, she had her quilt spread over her, and would pull it about her, to find one and another name with loving reflections. The great delight it was to her made a deep impression on me, as she would exclaim, "Oh, here is a piece of ma's dress"¡ª¡°There is one of little Molly's baby dresses"¡ª¡°Here is Eliza Cobb's name", and so on through the whole number of dear ones, brought near by name, or dress material she remembered their wearing. It has always remained with me, as one of the happy memories of my mother.

[Hogsheads of Butter]   Butter was a great luxury, not to be procured in Amoy, or anywhere in that region, but it was sent to her from the loved home.
Through the great labor of love of her mother, preparing the butter herself, lest all the buttermilk and water should not be absolutely extracted in the process of being made (knowing its being preserved, pure and sweet, depended on this work) it was made possible to send it to her in a well preserved condition.

And then the painstaking care of her father in packing it in small wooden kegs¡ªpreviously prepared to receive the butter¡ªsealed, and put into a hogshead covered with strong brine and headed up, completed its preparation.

This was continuously done for the beloved daughter during all her days, and after, until we all returned to this country, and by them shared with their friends. The coming of these hogsheads was another great event.

[Naughty MKs]   Sometimes there were naughty children who carried even in those tender years a sense of guilty consciences, but not heavy enough to cause confession of sins¡ªonly fear of exposure!

I was ringleader, I think, in throwing sand into some cups of rice in a basement window below us, but within our reach. Charley, Sam and I did this thing, and for all we knew or cared, in our hard hearts, it may be very likely that it caused some poor Chinese people to go hungry that day, since the poor always lived just on the borderland of starvation.

We often heard rough, angry talk among boatmen, with boats lying close to the wharf below the verandah of our house, and sometimes, on seeing us, they called us names¡ª¡°foreign devils", and other angry words.

Altogether, we children felt called upon to either rebuke their quarrels, or avenge our wrongs, so one time we poured a large carton of water down upon their heads, and were really quite frightened at the volley of curses poured out against us..

They were not overheard by our parents, or our cause of fright might have had more reason to exist! But I remember begging not to go down on the wharf to our boat (which we used often to go for a ride here and there) in that same afternoon, and it was with fear and trembling that we guilty children clung close to mother's skirts or father's hand, as we peered about to see if our enemy would appear! But all went well with the young sinners.

Our house was built on piers of stone and timber work. It was narrow across the front, but ran back several rooms deep to the city street. It was on a corner of land surrounded by tide water on two sides, with a wharf running by the side, the whole length back to the street. The back of the house faced the street, and contained quarters for the Chinese nurse and her family, and the servant.

Beginning from these quarters¡ªtoward the front and the waters were a hall and stairway and study. Then our parlor, or best room; next, a large storeroom with closets to the ceiling on three sides, and space for playroom too; beyond, two bedrooms and bathroom, following out to the narrow front of the house: all of these, aside from the "quarters", opened out on a verandah which embraced all of them back to the street or "quarters¡±.

The veranda was shielded by sliding shutters, used to shelter from sun or storm, or drawn aside for breezes.

On the floor below these living rooms, on the street level, were the kitchen, and a bedroom for Jambi, the Malay cook. Toward the front was the dining room, and beyond, a room for meetings and gatherings with Chinese men or women, at different hours, for study or sociability with father and other missionaries.
There were bookcases here containing matter of interest to them.

Opening on our front water, through a heavily barred window high up from the floor, was a play room and catch all. At times of typhoons, the water would rise so high that it came within a few inches of the window-level on front and side of the wharf. One of our memories is of sitting on the deep window seats in the dining room and paddling in the water after one of these great storms, when, in usual weather, even at high tide, the water did not cover this part of the wharf, and men walking up and down could not reach up to our windows. Looking down upon them from our high perch, within our window seats, we could hear them talking to themselves about us, evidently. Occasionally, men who had never seen a foreigner passed and we heard, "See the blue eyes!"_"Look at the pink skin!" or "Their hair is not black like ours, but different colors¡ªred, brown, and so forth."
Our furniture was, naturally, very simple¡ªwhite, or red and white check mattings, and a good deal of rattan in chairs and settees, with some of the noted carved pieces of native make.

The parlor, where guests of many nationalities and different ranks of society were entertained, as became a representative of one of the larger and most influential countries, had better furnishings.

The piano (first drawing card) and mahogany center table, some beautiful Chinese bric-a-brac, a marbleized mantelpiece with a grate, on both sides of which were Chinese vases about two and one-half or three feet high, were the chief articles. Tall stalks of rice paper flowers, much like double magnolia blossoms, pink and white, and leaves of cloth very naturally imitated, stood about four feet high in these vases. The vases I have here, you all know.

The carpet was of velvet, dark red with bright flowers over it. It seems to me it was bought in Boston and brought to Amoy with my parents, or it may, quite readily, have come from England with things brought by English or Scotch people.

It was much admired by our native and foreign friends: to the latter, "it looked like home"; to the former, very remarkable, but not nearly so fine as their own white mattings of soft, choice materials, woven into many figures¡ªquite artistic indeed.

A singular incident about this carpet is that after coming to America, on the first visit we made to Aunt Marcia Kitchell (Willis) to her home near Madison, N.J., we all exclaimed that the carpet was exactly like our own in Amoy, father confirming it, too. The two sisters had shown the same taste, and chosen carpets alike; one bought in Boston in 1848, the other in New York City in 1858 or '59¡ªboth carpets very likely sent from England originally. The world did not move quite so rapidly as in our day, and was content with good value for longer than now.
Continue to Part 3

Please Help the "The Amoy Mission Project!" Please share any relevant biographical material and photos for the website and upcoming book, or consider helping with the costs of the site and research materials.   All text and photos will remain your property, and photos will be imprinted to prevent unauthorized use.  Thanks!  

Dr. Bill   Xiamen University MBA Center
E-mail: amoybill@gmail.com  
Snail Mail: Dr. William Brown 
Box 1288  Xiamen University, Xiamen, Fujian  PRC   361005

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