Although the number of Chinese students at Lyon would not be hard to count these days, it was once the gathering place for Chinese students from all over Europe. During the thirty years from 1921 to 1950 there were altogether some 473 Chinese students who read at Lyon's "overseas section" of the Institute.

In search of knowledge and national salvation: "December was incredibly cold," Deputy Professor of the Chinese Department at Lyon's Third University Li Chen-sheng talks of how she once accompanied Professor Wang Te-yao of Amoy University at the University. "Professor Wang was old but it seemed that he really did not know the cold. He would take a step and then recollect, then tell me a story."

The first old building as you enter the gate is the women's dormitory. The women intellectuals who crossed the seas in those days really were the "new women" of the age!

Progressing up the slope of the hill you come to the male dormitory, an auditorium, library, small classrooms, kitchen, refectory. . . . At the top of the slope there is a volleyball court, the ruins of an ancient Roman aqueduct, the remains of the old gun platform and a small church, harmonizing with the flourishing blue-green of the mountain to create a pleasant scene. Every evening the students would return from their lessons and after eating would go to the back of the mountain and play the hu-ch'in humming along and singing songs from Peking opera. Of course, there would also be much gossip. Such was the happiest time of day.

Seventy years ago, while internally China was divided under the control of the warlords and externally she was under pressure from Japanese intrusions and the unequal treaties imposed on her had not been completely revoked, a group of young students came to Lyon to embrace study of the Western system, science and technology in pursuit of the ideal of national salvation. This small piece of land was their safe harbor from isolation and homesickness.

Great help from the city: Strictly speaking, the overseas section of the Institute could only be considered a dormitory. Apart from supplying food and accommodation for the students, there was only a simple language class so that newly arrived scholars could get a grounding in French, after which students would be scattered among Lyon University and the various specialist academies to undertake their studies. The reason for this can be traced to the difficulties faced in the early days of the Republic of China.

When the Paris Peace Conference was convened in 1919, the Chinese delegation used China's position as one of the victor nations to demand a rebate of the indemnities that had been paid for some thirty years since the Eight Armies had extracted them from the Ch'ing court. The so-called "rebate" was in fact no more than a waiving of the remaining small portion still to be paid.

The amount of indemnity that China still had to pay France at that time was still 400 million francs, which was no small sum. With no conclusions coming from the talks, a Chinese student in France, Li Shih-tseng, along with the dean of Peking University, Ts'ai Yuan-p'ei, and a reporter from the journal Su Pao, Wu Chih-hui, raised the suggestion that the indemnity be used for the purpose of education by establishing a Chinese university in France for the education of Chinese students overseas. This idea reached the mayor of Lyon, the dean of Lyon University and a number of people in senior positions there, all of whom gave it their full support. The following was the view taken of the plan for a Franco-Chinese university taken by Jean Lepine, head of the medical school: "The repayment of the indemnity cannot be solved in a day; the repayments will probably take too long. If we wait for the rebate too long, then the Franco-Chinese University may never come about. We might as well first establish a school building and take a small contribution from the indemnity to run a small model and then go on to resolve the problem of the remaining indemnity."

But even if it was a "small contribution," the process of planning the budget was very trying. At first, apart from funds for starting up, the French and Chinese governments promised to supply 100,000 francs per year. But at that time the Chinese civil war was raging and the French were facing post-war conditions. In the end they gave assistance to Peking University and Canton's Hsinan University, but were reluctant to pay for travel and living costs for students. The Lyon city council was of great help in supplying the site, although it only raised one symbolic franc for the kitty; it also opened up all the schools for the students to take up studies.

"Foreign Department" in the twinkling of an eye: But what name was to be given to this stillborn university? Chinese characters came in useful here and the three characters meaning "foreign department" were added.

"Early on, the main consideration was how to raise French contributions. If successful, the name would have to be 'Overseas Chinese University,' it could not be called 'Chinese University--Overseas Department.'" Published in 1921 and still preserved in the Bibliotheque Municipale de Lyon there is a book recording the deliberations under-gone at that time: "As for the situation in Lyon, there was just a few thousand francs coming in here and a few there. If the university was to stand up alongside others, establish departments and extend invitations to foreign scholars, could it really be hoped that it would not end up as a fiasco?"

Peking and Canton also established Insitutes Francochinoises which formed the "base departments," taking on the responsibility for examining students for the "overseas department." In its first year (l921) the Institute at Lyon received 138 students and it carried on without interruption for the next thirty years.

A record from its fifteenth year of establishment commends the Institute's results in these terms: "Graduates in recent years have excelled in their levels of attainment and been praised by public opinion both here and abroad. The number who have reached doctoral level is already not less than fifty."

Soft interlude: In the flower of youth, tasting the open and romantic atmosphere of France, there was still some time for soft interludes during the months of hard study and discussions of national affairs.

"Away from home and lonely, it was easy to fall into love's net when one came across passionate French girls," Li Chen-sheng, whose own parents were of this mixture of races, smiles as she tells some morsels heard from her father. "Chinese students away from home were very bashful and any dating was carried on surreptitiously outside the university. They would never dare to introduce a partner to their fellow students. Yet they would mostly get married in the university chapel." Marriages were quite numerous, but unfortunately not long-lived. Mainly this was because in the traditional Chinese society of the times a son would have a marriage arranged for him before setting off for afar. Once he returned to China the old wife emerged causing most of the French wives to leave. Thus the completion of study was often the completion of the affair.

The enthusiastic students often took the direction of political idealism. The French Communists were making great advances at that time and the Chinese Communists were also active. Many of them, including Teng Hsiao-ping, often went to the University and created an omnipresent leftist tide. "From Chinese and French student publications of the day can be seen the active road taken by the Chinese Communist Party in France," says Jean-Louis Boully, who is responsible for the Chinese collection at the Bibliotheque Municipale de Lyon, as he turns over a 1920 edition of the Chinese magazine Red Lantern.

Still not completely lost in history: In the longer term, the budget was limited and the Institute could only accept twenty new students by its second year. After 1943 it could continue no longer and took in no new students and in 1950 its activities were suspended altogether.

But the institute has not completely disappeared into history. At present a number of enthusiasts have preserved the spirit of the University by organizing a committee to raise funds to assist scholars from mainland China to come and do research. Last year they assisted two people. This year they have raised more money and will help ten scholars.

These days the students do not come in groups of twenty youths. Although they do live at the old site of the Franco-Chinese University, they do so in new-style dormitories and alongside French students. It is only if you look at them from afar and standing alone by the main gate, under the Chinese characters reading "Franco-Chinese University" that you can still create some kind of an illusion.

[Picture Caption]

(Left) The University was the earliest gathering place for Chinese students in Europe. The small church where many of them tied the matrimonial knot is still standing.

(Below) Between 1921 and 1950 some 473 Chinese students passed through the University. Here we see some students of that time gathered, at play, their library and auditorium.

The Lyon University dormitory belongs to the Ministry of Education. Thefour Chinese characters reading "Franco-Chinese University" still seen over the main gate give a clue to its past history.

（Below） Between 1921 and 1950 some 473 Chinese students passed through the University. Here we see some students of that time gathered, at play, their library and auditorium.

The Lyon University dormitory belongs to the Ministry of Education. Thefour Chinese characters reading "Franco-Chinese University" still seen over the main gate give a clue to its past history.