Lawrence M. Kaplan Homer Lea: American Soldier of Fortune. The University Press of Kentucky: Lexington, Kentucky, 314 pp., 2010, 1912, 1905
[p. 182] Final Crusade
. . . In early February 1912, after the Manchus finally announced their intention to abdicate, Sun Yat-sen prepared to hand the reins of the new republic over to Yuan Shih-k'sh, as he had promised earlier. Sun Yat-sen would still hold a post in the republican government, but Lea would be removed from the limelight and center of power that he had waited so long to be near.
. . .
" . . . [Lea] suddenly collapsed from a stroke on February 11 [1912], three days before Sun Yat-sen resigned from the presidency . . . [p. 183]
Initially Lea was not expected to live. The physician called in to treat him, Dr. Urbanek, a neighbor, diagnosed the cause of the stroke as a blood clot on the brain. Lea's diabetic condition very likely contributed to the stroke. He remained in a deep coma for three days, and his condition worsened. Dr. Henri Fresson, a French physician and surgeon working in Shanghai, rushed to Nanking on a special train to help care for him. Lea eventually regained consciousness, but was left completely paralyzed on the left side of his body. His vision also was severly impaired. As he showed signs of improvement, Dr. Urbanek's prognosis turned optimistic, especially since Ethel's careful nursing appeared to help. Dr. Urbanek, aware of Lea's controversial reputation, observed, "There are no symptoms of any great defect in intellect, though the patient has many maniacal ideas, but all of them are to a person acquainted with the extremely imaginative mind of General Homer Lea, easily explainable.
Lea's doctors believed he would be better off returning to California for his recuperation. When he was well enough to begin the long journey back home, he and Ethel traveled to Shanghai, where on April 12 they departed for San Francisco on the Japanese ship Shinyo Maru. When the ship stopped at Japanese ports, delegations were on hand to greet and welcome Lea. Ethel, meanwhile, made arrangements to keep their impending arrival in San Francisco secret to avoid the unnecessary excitement of reporters and welcoming delegations. Lea was still in no condition to receive either. He was confined to a wheelchair, almost blind, and had no desire to explain his Chinese adventures to inquiring crowds. The ship arrived in San Francisco on May 6 with little fanfare.
Lea and Ethel took up residence at a small Santa Monica cottage overlooking the ocean, at 135 South Wadsworth Avenue, for his recuperation. At first he believed he was going to die and became especially concerned about Ethel's future. He contacted his old friend Marco Newmark for help. Newmark explained:
"A day or two after their arrival, Homer sent for me. I found him sitting in a wheel chair. He said to me, "I know, Marco, that I am going to die. I called you here for two reasons.
"Do you remember that time when you became engaged [p. 184] to be married. I told you you were a damn fool, that now you will have a family, that you will lead a monotonous life and be of no use to anybody? Well I wanted to say to you that I made a mistake.
"The second reason is that after I have gone I want you to keep in touch with Ehel and watch over her."
"Ethel's devotion and support no doubt helped Lea alter his outlook on life and raise his spirits for recovery. He soon began looking forward to the day when he could smash his wheelchair and return to China. The atmosphere of China pervaded his cottage. It was furnished with Chinese decor and Lea entertained distinguished Chinese visitors along with his closest friends on a regular basis. His visitors also occasionally accompanied him along the waterfront in his wheelchair.
As he anxiously awaited the publication of The Day of the Saxon, he began dictating several literary projects to Ethel. His plans included writing a twelve-volume history of China, five books on governments of the world, and at least one romance novel. In one case, he began dictating a book on China, but later became dissatisfied with it and tore it up. He commented: "I can do better a little later, and I will soon commence on the twelve volumes of history.
In The Day of the Saxon, published in June, Lea broaded his vision of doom and announced his intention to complete a third volume for a trilogy, but offered no details about it. In The Day of the Saxon he expressed his belief that the entire Anglo-Saxon race faced a threat from German (Teuton) and Russian (Slav) expansionism. He believed that while Russia moved against India, the Germans, operating under the inspiration of Bismarck, would strike at England, the center of the British empire. He thought the Anglo-Saxons faced certain disaster from their military opponents. Only a rejuvenation of the race could save the English-speaking peoples in the coming racial war. It they failed to do this, then, according to Lea, theirs would be the "fate of nations as they have laid themselves down to sleep throughout the ages . . . in all their glory and hope and vanity, only to awake at a predetermined hour to find themselves upon a savage dawn, stripped and desolate."
Lea had hoped that The Day of the Saxon would be his crowning work to date, but it was not received as well as The Valor of Ignorance had been, It lacked the immediate relevance to awaken interest in [p. 185] the American public. There were no plans or maps foretelling a German invasion on the Atlantic coast to grab the attention of Americans. Moreover, many reviewers agreed that Lea had simply gone too far with his dogmatic and pessimistic appraisals. The Japanese remained interested in Lea's writings, and at least one of Japan's largest booksellers later placed orders with Harper and Brothers for copies of the book. Even though it eventually went into a German translation, its popularity in Germany was not comparable to that of The Valor of Ignorance in Japan. If anything, it only added to the antagonisms and tensions that were already growing between Anglo-American and German interests.
Lea's prognosis brightened considerably after three months of recuperation. He began planning his return to China when his physicians expressed confidence that he would fully recover. On July 27 he wrote Sun Yat-sen of his intentions:
"I will be able to return to China about the middle of September and will again devote myself to whatever tasks you have for me there. This has been a very severe sickness but I now feel almost quite recovered."
On August 3 Lea granted his first interview since returning from China to Willard Huntington Wright, literary editor of the Los Angeles Times. Wright greatly admired Lea and had recently written a flattering review of The Day of the Saxon. Now he called Lea, "the greatest military strategist in America . . . one of the greatest men in America and on of the most remarkable minds of this decade." He also contributed to the growing mythology surrounding Lea, characterizing him as a man of mystery and "dominating power;" behind the scenes in China.
In the interview Lea elaborated on his plans for a third volume to complete a trilogy with The Valor of Ignorance and The Day of the Saxon. In the new book he wanted to advance his social Darwinist beliefs by discussing the spread of democracy among nations. He explained: "The principle of democracy is the principle of weakness, of the disintegration of power; that is why the Saxon race is daily evolving into a race of weakness . . . My next book, the third of the trilogy will deal with this phase of government as it pertains to the interrelation of world powers."
[p. 186] Lea's plans to return to China coincided with a visit in mid-August from General Lan Tien Wei, one of the Chinese republican revolution's most distinguished commanders. General Lan Tien Wei had worked with Lea in China, and in the course of visiting Los Angeles called on him to pay his respects and thank him for his work on behalf of the revolution. They no doubt discussed Chinese affairs and Lea's intended return as Sun Yat-sen's advisor.
During Lea's recuperation, Ethel's son, Albert H. Powers, often wheeled Lea along the boardwalk at Santa Monica Beach, where they enjoyed fishing from the pier. Occasionally the inquisitive onlookers stopped to talk. but Lea had little patience with their questions. Albert recalled:
"Every day that I wheeled the general down the beach in Santa Monica, one or two people stopped us to ask various foolish questions of his experiences in China. Most of these questions were about the manner in which he became paralyzed. As these questions annoyed him his answers were short and they generally put an end to the conversation.
One day a well-dressed man, about 25 years old asked, how did you get hurt, General?
The reply was, "Well it was this way. I was standing on a street corner, one day and a lady ran into me with a baby buggy and knocked me down. The shock paralyzed me in my left side."
The silence was oppresive for a few seconds and then the man walked away.
Another answer was, "A black cat jumped on me one day and scratched me on the face. Since then, I haven't been able to use my left arm or leg."
In October Lea appeared to have won his fight for survival. He was finally strong enough to walk and thought about working with Sun Yat-sen and returning to China. Although still in pain, he would not let that stand in his way. He confided to Van Loan: "Physical pain-that is a mere trifle when you are used to it. I cannot remember that I have ever passed a day in my life which was free from pain." He was guardedly optimistic about his health and wrote Belford: "This is now the tenth month of convalescence and for the first time have [the word definite is crossed out] hopes of complete recovery although it may take some time yet." When Marshall Stimson dropped by for a visit on October 27 he found that "partly blind, and in a wheelchair, Lea still had something of his old fire. He . . . denounced commercialism and political corruption of the United States, the lack of wisdom in her leaders in failing to prepare for the great wars that Lea said were coming on and expressed his contempt for the softened, luxury and vice, of American livintg."
In the year since the revolution began Lea's reputation may have improved in China. The republican government reportedly accorded him a distinct honor by prominently displaying his picture at the inauguration of a hall of fame in Peking, commemorating the one-year anniversary of the October Revolution. Furthermore Sun Yat-sen wrote in mid-October that he hoped to meet Lea in Paris in about two months.
Unfortunely, Lea and Sun Yat-sen would never meet again. On October 27, after spending an evening entertaining some friends, Lea unexpectedly suffered another stroke, from which he did not recover. Ironically, during the evening entertainment he remarked to Ethel he was confident about soon returning to China. The Los Angeles Tribune reported on Lea's sudden decline: "Entertaining a party of writers and other friends . . . General Lea was unusually brilliant and seemed to enjoy the occasion thoroughly. He retired in good spirits but was stricken that night and could not rally."
Lea died at his cottage on November 1, 1912, shortly before 2:00 in the afternoon. Ethel, his sister Hersa, and Robert Belford were at his side. It was eleven days before his thirty-sixth birthday. When news of his death reached Chinatown in Los Angeles, the Chinese community immediately acknowledged its great loss. According to the Los Angeles Examiner:
"Within an hour after the news of General Lea's death had been received in Chinatown yesterday, the Chinese Chamber of Commerce, Chinese-American League of Justice and Chinese Protective Association, three of the largest Chinese organizations in the United States, called a special meeting and adopted resolutions of regret, extending to General Lea's widow the condolences of the three societies. The resolutions, as translated, stated that General Lea had "devoted considerable of his life and energy to the cause of freeing China from the Manchu yoke, and that his death was a blow that would be deeply felt by the Chinese people throughout the world."
[p. 188] Lea's funeral, held on the afternoon of November 2, was private and quiet. He had expressed wishes that he be dressed in his general's uniform and that there be no ceremony of any kind. In the morning, his body, dressed in his uniform, lay in state at his cottage while friends called to pay their respects. Only his immediate family and more intimate friends attended the funeral. Ethel, Hersa, O'Banion, Newmark, Van Loan, Belford, and Isaac O. Levy, a high school friend, gathered at his cottage to bid him a final farewell. Newmark described the scene:
"He lay on a bed, clad, in the uniform of a lieutenant general of the Chinese army, his cherished swagger stick beside him.
There was no service. Two men came in with a casket, placed in it the wasted little body that had been the home of so mighty a spirit and conveyed it to a crematory.
In the afternoon a hearse from the Breese Brothers funeral home, escorted by the funeral party, slowly drove Lea's body to the Rosedale Cemetary crematory in Los Angeles. The funeral party arrived at the crematory about 4:00 and attendants placed Lea's plain black casket, adorned with several simple wreaths, in the chapel. After the funeral party took seats in the chapel there was a moment of silence, some whispered consultation, and then the mourners left to return to Santa Monica. A Los Angeles Times reporter covering the event observed it was "impressive in the extreme from its absolute simplicity in the absence of any services or last rites."
[p. 209] Filmmakers first became interested in Lea and his writings in the early 1920s. In 1922 Japanesse-born Sessue Hayakawa, a leading Hollywood film star and movie producer, adapted the Vermillion Pencil to the screen. The film, among several with Asian themes Hayakawa both starred in and produced in the 1920s received mixed reviews.