Harry Carr Riding the Tiger: An American Newspaper Man in the Orient, Riverside Press Cambridge, Houghton Mifflin Co.: Cambridge, MA, Boston, MA, New York, New York, 1934. 262 pp. Signed by the author: "Mrs. R.P. Jennings, Sincerely, Harry Carr"; Dust Jacket, See Text
[p. 159] "I had been brought up in California and looked back to a time when nearly every family had a Chinese servant. The loyalty and devotion of those old Chings and Ah Sings and Wings was a pleasant and lovely atmosphere in every household. I remember the collapse of the first real estate boom in 1887. One California family no longer had money enough to keep a servant and the mistress went into the forbidden kitchen to break the news to old Wing. His only reply was to order her out; he permitted no one in his kitchen. She tried desperately to explain that his term of service was done. He finally took her by the shoulders and shoved her out. Until the depression ended and the family was again in funds, Wing not only worked without pay but contributed to the support of the family. In Los Angeles was a family with three beautiful daughters. On Sunday afternoon, the house was rodeo of the eligible young men of the local Four Hundred. One young Beau Brummel Ah Sing would never admit. He would open the door a crack and say: "Nobody home; go way." The [p. 160] only answer he vouchsafed to the angry protests of the belles was: "Him no good." In the end the young man proved to be worse than no good. Ah Sing knew.
[p. 160] "I knew another family in Hawaii who had a Chinese servant for fifty years . . .
[p. 160] "I knew a case in Seattle where a young Chinese boy was employed as a "nurse girl." He had charge of a baby boy . . .
XVI Chinatown Challenges An Empress
[p. 168] "In the early days of this century, I was a young reporter on a newspaper in Los Angeles. I haunted Chinatown. The little shadowy alleys called to me. Wong Sing Hay, the highbinder-who anticipated Al Capone, as a gangster by some years-was my bosom pal. Wong Duck, who kept the little restaurant in August Alley, was a brother. Old Suey Sing, with his gentle, regretful voice, let me hold his new grandchild arrayed in gold and embroidery. Charley Song's white wife, in her white silk pantaloons, admitted me to her house, an honored guest-when she was not too dopey with opium to talk. Wing Gong, in a spirit of high and hilarious adventure brought both his giggling lily-footed spouses for me to meet.
"One day I was astonished to see my friend Liu Ching had cut off the long queue braided with purple thread of which he was so inordinately proud. Stunned, I looked around. Where was Wong Sing Hay's queue-gone! I ran around to August Alley. Wong Duck nodded and said coolly; "Hello, Hallie; long time no see you." As Wong turned around, I saw that he was bearing a boyish bob.
"For explanation, Wong Duck pointed to a bulletin board flaming with inscriptions printed on scarlet paper-chicken-track writing against a sunset blaze of color. Chinatown had challenged the might and majesty of "The Old Buddha," her slight, girlish trim figure stirring uneasily on the Dragon Throne behind the pink walls of the Forbidden City.
"Soon, in the evening shadows, Chinese boys whom I knew were drilling in spick-span uniforms behind Wui Wong's produce market. Watching them wheeling into line and breaking into [p. 169] column, in obedience to the barks of an ex-calvary sergeant of our army, stood a little figure-a hunchback with sharp, wise eyes, his crippled figure in a black uniform, a swagger-stick tucked under his arm, seeing everything, missing nothing, the direst foe of a far-off empress in Cathay. He was Homer Lea, a mysterious eerie character who has played a greater role in the history of the world than we realized then-or anyone has realized since. He was a male Cassandra-a voice unheeded. Two thirds of the people in California-where his career started-did not hear about him at the time and the other third who heard have forgotten; but his name is known in every war office in Europe and the Orient.
"General Lea had been a playmate of mine in our school days-a withering, brilliant mind in a twisted body. He came from an old Virginia family-a family of soldiers. He drank in military tradition with his milk. When he was a baby, he was dropped by a careless nurse, his spine being hopelessly injured. For the rest of his life he wore a steel harness. I knew him first when we were both about fifteen years old. I saw him develop into one of the foremost military strategists in the world-not much known to the general public, but a voice listened to with profound respect wherever experts stick pins into war maps.
"A military career being apparently impossible, his inclination turned to the law. Graduating from the Los Angeles High School, he matriculated at Stanford University. He told me afterward that Blackstone held no thrill for him. He had determined to be a world figure; and world figures are carved out with swords. He said that he felt that some time and in some ways, his chance would come.
"While Lea was at Stanford, a movement started among the young Chinese in Dupont Street, San Francisco. I think, at the outset, it had no connection with any such idea as a republic for China. An organization was formed with a Chinese name which meant, "Movement for Restoring the Emperor to the Throne." [p. 170] The outside world was not much interested in Chinese affairs at that time. It was known, rather dimly, that the old Empress had locked up Kwang Hsu; but no one was inordinately excited about it. Homer Lea became a prominent thinking member.
"Having been drilled until they could hup-hup with proper impressiveness, the Chinese boys began slipping out of Chinatown. We heard that they were headed for China-and war. Presently Homer Lea disappeared. He returned a year or so later-with a price on his head. What he did in China is only hearsay. The accounts that he gave were touched with mysticism. To tell the truth, it was an idea too fantastic for home-consumption. That a boy who sat at the next desk in school, using the same Latin pony, should be a great Pooh-Bah in a war against a Chinese empress didn't seem to "read right." An event occurred that opened all our eyes.
"Kang Yu Wei, the Prime Minister and tutor in foreign ideas to Kwang Hsu, came to Los Angeles. He had fled from Pekin between a night and a day; had taken refuge with the British; to kill him was worth fifty thousand dollars. Arriving in Los Angeles, Kang Yu Wei reported to Homer Lea and remained under his chaperonage during his stay on the Coast. To be plain about it, Kang Yu Wei seemed to take orders from our old schoolmate as though he were a bell-hop. In his wake came an imperial prince who was also in a hurry, as a result of progressive ideas. His name was Liang Kai Chiao. He showed as much devotion and respect to Homer Lea as Kang Yu Wei. We began to see there was something in the story.
"General Lea believed that he was under the protection of a mystic destiny; that he had, in a previous incarnation, been a Chinese in high position, now returning to take up his unfinished work. The Chinese also seemed to share his faith. Homer told me that his life had been largely influenced by a recurrent dream. It first came to his sleep when he was seven years old; perhaps [p. 171] a little younger. In the dream he saw strange men and heard strange sounds and was conscious of the tumult of a battle. When he was twelve, the identical dream came again. He was, by then, old enough to recognize the strange men in his dream as Chinese soldiers. The same dream came again when he was about seventeen. This time he identified the terrifying sounds as Chinese war trumpets. He told me that he knew that his dream was the sign-post of his destiny. Some day he felt confident that he would see the identical scene of the dream; he would then know that his destiny had been fulfilled.
"During his first trip to China, he said that he had the sensation of having seen everything before. Going down little narrow streets of Chinese villages, he would know what was around the corners before he turned those corners. On one occasion, during the sporadic warfare of that revolution, he was met by a howling mob of blood-lusting Boxers. They were running to attack his party. He sent his comrades back and advanced to meet them-alone. The leader of the mob came to a stop like a horse on the edge of a cliff. The rioters behind wavered and hesitated. "His eyes can see nine feet in the ground," yelled the leader; and the marauders turned and fled.
"Once during a thunderstorm, he took refuge in a Chinese temple. One of the priests began telling fortunes by palmistry. He took hold of Homer Lea's hand; looked up, startled, and dropped the hand, "This," he said, "is the hand of a king." Another strange omen occurred during that thunderstorm; a bird which never is seen except in the presence of royalty perched on a bush near the temple. Unfortunately I have forgotten all the bird details of the incident. At that particular period, I am confident that this brilliant little cripple expected to win a throne. One night, in his house, he asked me to leave my newspaper job and join his staff. "How much salary?" I asked, my Scotch blood rising. "No salary," he replied. "Unfortunately," I said, "I have a family with [p. 172] healthy appetites." General Lea smiled. "Get whatever you want and send me the bills. If your wife wants a fur coat or you want a new car, get them and send me the bills. Send me all your bills, water, gas, rent-everything."
[p. 172] "And so-what?" I asked
"We are going to China," he answered. "You will see me either killed on the field of battle or become a king; it will be a good story either way."
"And now I wish I had gone.
"For two or three years Homer waited in Los Angeles. Every day he had a Navajo rug taken out to West Lake Park in Los Angeles. There he lay all day long, studying military strategy. The result was a book that swept through the military world. It was the subject for the thesis of a graduating class at Sandhurst. The German Kaiser ordered every officer in his army to read it. It was called The Valor of Ignorance. It was his warning that the United States had a war to fight with Japan; and that we were naked to our enemies.
"In that book and in other writings of that period, Homer Lea made the startling charge that the forts of the Pacific Coast were a danger rather than a defense; that San Francisco could be captured without firing a shot; that the defenses of San Pedro Harbor (now the base of the United States Navy) were ridiculous; that Los Angeles could be taken with ease and never could be recaptured. He laid the lash of savage and scornful criticism upon the officers who were then planning the defense of Western America.
"He told me then what has since become a fixed axiom in the minds of our navy; that the Japanese will give no warning of war.
"Some day," said Homer, "an operator on the cable between here and Manila will find his instrument suddenly gone dead. That will be all. It will mean that we have lost the Philippine Islands." Perhaps in jest, he added: "Some morning you will be [p. 173] starting for your office and a Japanese sentry on the sidewalk will order you back to your home. It will be just as sudden as that."
[p. 173] "Shortly after his retirement as commander-in-chief of the United States Army, Lieutenant General Adna R. Chaffee studied Homer Lea's criticisms and discussed them candidly with me. He said that he and another general of the army had sat up all one night with maps and charts going into the matter. "Carr," he said, "Lea was terribly right. I am afraid a colossal mistake has been made." I cite these details not for the purpose of scaring the Pacific Coast Rotary Clubs into taking refuge under the bed, but to give Homer Lea's background and authority. The Pacific Coast is still in a shocking condition of defenselessness; but many of the particular elements in the situation have been changed since the development of war planes.
"The force of Lea's personality was overwhelming. I remember how he used to sit in an alcove of the old Alexandria Bar in Los Angeles and hold what amounted to a royal levee. Actors, soldiers, distinguished lawyers, journalists, come to listen with respect. His manner was imperious. I happened to be sitting with him one day when an army major ventured to contradict some of his conclusions. Homer hitched around in his chair, the way cripples do, and looked him over with contempt.
"Major," he said, "I am a consulting strategist by profession. If our country goes to war-as it will-I shall be too busy to suggest a role for you to play; so I will tell you now. When war comes, I want you to drive a mule in a pack-train. Don't try to drive the lead mule because your mental capacity is not equal to the job; select a mule somewhere in the middle of the train."
"The major meekly faded away.
"I am not sure whether it was the year 1909 or 1910, but early one morning I was wakened by a telephone call: the imperious voice of Homer Lea. [p. 174]
[p. 174] "Come down at once to have breakfast with me at the Lankershim Hotel; and hurry up."
"He told me, as we sat at the table, that he had been informed by his physicians that he had Bright's disease in an advanced stage and had not long to live. He seemed more affected by the disgust of being put on a milk-toast diet than by the fact that the Grim Reaper was beckoning. It was the first time during our long friendship that he had ever spoken about his affliction. He spoke of the terrible handicap under which he had lived; and how it had debarred him from commanding troops in the field. I told him that if he had been well and strong he would probably have spent his life as a football coach. "Yes," he said judicially, "I think that is so."
"Homer showed me a cable message from field Marshal Lord Roberts urging him to come to England-offering to send a specialist, or two specialists, to help him on the trip. By way of explanation, Homer said that his mission in England was to consult Lord Roberts and others concerning the defense of the British Empire. I state these facts as they were told to me; I have no way of verifying them.
"While we were at breakfast a spruce, financial-looking young person came in to say good-bye. "Cable me at once,"said Homer, "after you have talked to the Rothschilds." The young man bowed and retired.
"Homer said: "In a few moments we will be joined here at the table by a Chinese gentleman. You have never heard of him, but before long the whole world will be ringing with his name."
"Presently a sardonic Chinese in American clothes came in and I was introduced to Dr. Sun Yat Sen-who was to become the George Washington of China; to overthrow a monarchy that had lasted six thousand years; to become finally a god, worshipped in a temple. Dr. Sun Yat Set had little to say. Homer and I sat on one side of the table together; Dr. Sun Yat Sen sat across [p. 175] from us. Now and then, Homer would appeal to him for statistics.
"Dr. Sen," he said once, "what was the strength of the Japanese navy in the year 1896?"
"Without looking up from his plate of ham and eggs, but instantly, as though a mechanical device had been touched, Dr. Sun Yat Sen replied: "Six first-line battleships, seven cruisers, thirty torpedo boats, six ships of the train." (I am not giving the correct figures.) I remember that he had a deep, sardonic voice.
"The immediate result of Homer Lea's visit to England was that remarkable book, The Day of the Saxon, in which he foretold with sure vision many of the events that have happened since. In this book he predicted the collapse of the British Empire-and the strategic position of Russia. Briefly summarized his points were these:
"The British Empire is an artery extending to various parts of the world. The defense of this empire depends upon defending not land, but an invisible sea lane extending from London through the Mediterranean Sea; through the Suez Canal, and then branching off to Africa, to Australia, to China, to India.
"No European nation can expand in the direction of its destiny without cutting that sea lane-the empire's main artery . . . France, or Italy to the African Coast; Germany to the Persian Gulf (at that time her objective); Russia to the warm waters of the Mediterranean. Every other country had to stand still to make the British Empire safe.
"Homer Lea pointed out that Russia was like a giant glacier-slow, crushing, inevitable, ruthless, impossible to stop. Only by comparing Russia's position at a given point at different periods is it possible to realize her relentless advance. He pointed out the [p. 176] extraordinary anomaly that Russia has lost most of her wars; but after every defeat she has gained new territory-Finland, Poland, and just then, Mongolia.
"[p. 176] England's war strength-as defender of an empire-depends upon the number of troops she can land on a distant shore. In the day of the empire's youth, her ships of war sailed into seas that were ocean deserts; her cannon against native war clubs. Now-as in Leas's lifetime-her warships must sail into harbors where strong warships of the natives lie at anchor. Lea's conclusion was that England had come to the sunset of her power. He foresaw that the crack-up would begin with the opening of the Kiel Canal by the Kaiser. His point was this: British sovereignty of the seas depended upon England's ability to maintain a two-power standard: to have a navy as strong as any two other navies in the world combined. When the Germans developed naval strength in the North Sea, with the Kiel Canal and Heligoland, it became necessary to divide the British fleet; it became necessary to equal the German fleet in the North Sea, the fleets of France and Italy in the Mediterranean, and the growing strength of the Japanese in the Orient. This involved a four-power fleet-an obvious impossibility. It became necessary to protect her Mediterranean sea lane by diplomacy rather than battleships; hence the Triple Entente negotiated by Edward VII.
"Russia, Lea felt, was certain to dominate Europe-perhaps the world. This because of the following military assets: man power; unlimited food supplies; strategic position. Russia was- and is-so situated that she can at any time strike either east or west. If attacked in the Far East, Russia can strike back through the Dardanelles. In fine, Russia fights on the inside of a circle-impossible to invade. She can strike this way and that from the inside; the other powers have to run around the circle to threatened points.