Mystery of the Chinese Autograph Book

In my last post I mentioned an autograph book from Chester, Connecticut we acquired as part of a collection. Ever since, I've found myself thinking about it until nothing would do but I find it again, buried in a pile of books yet to be listed. It's a dark, dreary day and the battered old black book beckoned like a ship filled with exotic spices and rare silks. Who had owned it and why are there so many photos of young Chinese men mixed in with those of Yankees from both Chester and Hoadley, Massachusetts?

The year it began was 1878 and most entries are from that time, but a few date from 1881-82 and one from 1901. A few pages also appear to be missing, so if there was ever an ownership page it has long since fluttered away, leaving in its wake a mystery now more than a century old. Beneath a photo of a young Chinese man is written "Portrait of Uncle Y.C. Wong", oddly dated 1901, but not located on the last page as one would expect since it's the most recent entry and the only one not signed by the person in the picture. A few pages later I found another photo, undated, which reads "Your cousin, Lew Yuk Lin, Xaing Shan, China." So then. The owner of the book was Chinese, most likely male.

Because the entries by Chinese men are scattered among those of New Englanders it took a second reading to notice something else. While many of the Chinese entries state both Chinese and American locations, all of the ones dated 1881 are signed with only a Chinese address and almost all make reference to Christmas Eve.

"Such is life, F.W. Loo, Sinn Wai, China, Christmas Eve 1881".

"Remember your first Christmas in Tientsin, Che Sun Chu, Canton, China December 24, 1881."

I had been vaguely wondering whether Chester's river location and shipbuilding history played a role in the presence of these young Chinese men in New England, but the reference to Christmas suddenly seemed like a game changer. Quickly I googled "American missionary activity China 19th century" and sure enough up popped an article explaining an evangelical fervor to convert the Chinese to Christianity. It sprang from the work of Hudson Taylor who had arrived in China in 1854 at the age of twenty-one under the auspices of the Chinese Evangelization Society. Six years later he was back in England in poor health, but with no slackening of religious zeal. Article after article flowed from his pen inspiring legions of missionaries from both England and the United States to head for Asia. Could it be that the book owner's family back in China had been converted and then sent their son to America to train as a missionary himself?

The answer of course is elusive, forever lost to time. But the fact that the last photo was added thirty years after the first ones made me think that whether he was part of the Protestant missionary movement, or not, he did not return to China to live. Then again, maybe he did and the last photo was added by someone else and the book's original owner was none other than Uncle Y.C. Wong!

Of course my first guess might also have been right and the owner had descended from a Chinese sailor who had signed on to an American whaler or come to work in Chester’s shipyards. Since immigration from China was not prohibited until 1882, this was legally possible even though Chinese sailors were not as plentiful as those from Portugal and Cape Verde and I could find no reference to Chinese shipbuilders in Chester. Or maybe, as so many Chinese immigrants did, this family had arrived on American shores hoping to find work constructing the transcontinental railroad.

Reluctantly, I closed the book resigned to not knowing. There’s a peculiar sadness in that of course, but the little black book imparts an important lesson. We can't rely on technology to serve as a bridge to the distant future. Blogs, emails and digital photos can all be lost in a heartbeat. If we are to meet the next century and insure that it meets us we have to leave a hard copy. Though I never learned the name or the fate of my book owner, I met him nonethless in the admiration of his many friends. I, for one, would very much like to be met like that. Wouldn't you?