grounds of a great Buddhist temple, and here are still preserved the
mortuary temples of several Tokugawa Shoguns, Ieyasu, the founder of
that dynasty, having chosen it as the temple where the funeral tablets
of himself and of his descendants should be enshrined. There are several
temples in the park, and they rank among the chief marvels of Japanese
art. They are somewhat after the style of the temples at Nikko. All of
them have a wonderful setting of green, the many fine trees and the
beautiful park forming an excellent background. Each of these mortuary
temples consists of three parts, an outer oratory, a connecting
gallery, and an inner sanctuary. In each of these the decorations are of
gilt and different colors, with elaborate patterns which are almost
dazzling to the eye.
On one occasion we visited Ueno Park, famed for its temples and tombs of
the Shoguns; it is a most popular resort in Tokio, and is celebrated for
its display of cherry blossoms in the month of April, during which
season there are held gala times. Six Shoguns, members of the Tokugawa
family, lie buried at Ueno. In general style the tombs here resemble
those at Shiba Park.
There are many objects of interest in Ueno Park other than its temples.
One is the bronze image of Buddha, twenty-one and a half feet high,
known as Dai-butsu, near which is a massive torii. We passed along an
avenue of stately cryptomerias where stands an ancient pagoda. There is
also a long row of very large stone lanterns, presented as a tribute to
the memory of the Shogun, Ieyasu. While in Ueno Park the attendant
pointed out, in a small enclosure, two diminutive trees,--a hinoki,
planted by General Grant, and a magnolia by Mrs. Grant during their
visit to Tokio.
The Ueno Museum proved interesting, particularly in the historical and
archæological departments. Near the Museum is a public library and
reading-room--the largest in the Empire. In the distance we saw the
Imperial University, which has a very high reputation, even foreign
students attending there for the purpose of studying art.
[Illustration: _Court of the Temple Shiba at Tokio_]
* * * * *
ASAKUSA: The district of Asakusa possesses a fine park, and here also is
the spacious Temple of Higashi Hongwanji, the chief religious edifice of
the Monto sect of Buddhists. It is very plain in its architecture, but
is noted principally for its proportions. The area of the matted floor
of the nave alone is one hundred and fifty mats, and around the front
and sides is a wooden aisle one hundred and twelve feet wide.
Tokio has many other temples and parks, but of these, as I have said,
Ueno is the most popular; around us were crowds of gayly dressed grown
people and children, all in holiday attire; various games for adults and
children were in progress, and there was a tea-house where refreshments
were being served. To me this appeared in very truth a park for the
people.
The Botanical Garden is also quite interesting. A long, imposing street
led down to it from Ueno Park, and on this were situated the principal
shops of the city, with curio nooks in abundance. These, of course, were
larger and more pretentious than the bazars spoken of elsewhere, some
of them being three stories in height, the first of the kind we had seen
in Japan. Taken as a whole, Tokio is a large, populous city, with a
bright future before it. I now was obliged to turn my face toward
Yokohama, it being a comparatively short distance from Tokio. Here I
found a number of friends whom I had met at different points and who
were about to leave for San Francisco,--my own departure for North China
to occur the following morning.
To visit North China, I was compelled to return to Shanghai in order to
join the Collver Tours party I had met at Kyoto. I left Yokohama on
March 3d by rail for Kobe, arriving at the Oriental Hotel about 9 P.M.
The route by day was very pleasant, as we saw much fine scenery, and for
some time Mt. Fujiyama rose before us in the distance. At Kobe I found
that the steamer, _Mongolia_, would be delayed, and therefore I would
need to remain there until the second day. The following morning, I took
a jinrikisha ride to the country and revisited several points of
interest.
[Illustration: _Gate of Chionin in Kyoto_]
[Illustration: _Ueno Park Pagoda_]
* * * * *
_June 6th_: I was awakened at seven on the morning of June 6th by the
voice of the guide saying, "We are now in the narrowest part of the
Inland Sea." I arose quickly, and, glancing out of the port-hole,
beheld a scene of loveliness which caused a spontaneous exclamation,
"Oh, how beautiful!" Before me on the left was an island clad in
verdure; behind, the towering mountains; then farther off, a lesser
peak, sloping down to the sea; a promontory jutted out at the right,
ribbed with terraces from which peeped forth tiny shoots of delicate
green. Scarcely had I time to catch a glimpse before the panorama
changed. This scene was repeated with slight variations until suddenly
there appeared a break, and in a cove were moored many little boats;
next came a tall mountain sloping down to the sea, with a wealth of
foliage along the side, while on the top was a fringe of tall trees,
like so many hills seen in Japan. I had cause to wonder if this too was
not one of the many expressions of Nature's artistic sense.
One scene succeeded another, and I became almost oblivious to all
thought of dressing until the gong rang for breakfast. I felt
rebellious, and, on that morning at least, the meal seemed a
desecration, the sacrifice of an opportunity. Once before, I had a
similar early morning experience; that was at Laggan, on the Canadian
Pacific Railway, when, on awakening, I beheld directly opposite my
window lovely Lake Louise and the beautiful glacier mirrored within the
opalescent blue. This day in Japan ended with a glorious sunset, and,
as the gold and azure melted away into nothingness, it was a fitful
close to hours of rare enjoyment.
On the morning following, I was again awakened, this time by the magic
word Nagasaki, and I beheld another never-to-be-forgotten scene. The
harbor and shipping lay in the foreground; beyond the shore line rose
large buildings, smaller ones creeping up the mountain side; this whole
panorama was bathed in sunlight. Immediately on landing a jinrikisha
ride was enjoyed, and I was propelled about in an aimless fashion,
enjoying the street scenes, visiting the heights, and the Horse's
Temple. It was a restless, irresponsible kind of day that I enjoyed, and
I returned to the steamer at five o'clock with considerable regret. Half
an hour later we were sailing away for Shanghai; and again we saw
islands, promontories, and inlets quite like those of the day previous.
On Saturday morning, the 9th, we were anchored at Wusong, waiting for
the arrival of the health officer. Thereafter we took a ride of an hour
in the steam launch. Shanghai seemed more European on our second
arrival, and the Bund on the front more attractive. We made the Palace
Hotel our destination, and learned with regret of the non-arrival of the
Trans-Siberian party from Manila. Some steamer friends and other
acquaintances were at Shanghai, and the time passed pleasantly amongst
them.
I attended divine service at St. John's Cathedral on Sunday morning, and
in the evening the delayed party arrived; I was so fortunate as to have
two home friends among the number.
Monday began by a general tour of sight-seeing for the party; to a
certain extent I thus went over the ground again, taking jinrikisha
rides through a portion of the European native city, and visiting the
entire French concession. French names were on the business houses and
on many of the streets. This concession is governed by a municipality of
its own.
Four restful days were passed at Shanghai, and at ten on the evening of
May 12th, we went to our steamer, the _Tuck-Wo_, for a trip on the
celebrated Yangtse River. The steamer was large and airy, with pleasant
decks; everything wore a thoroughly homelike air. The scenery on the
lower Yangtse is rather flat and disappointing, but in the morning there
were some vegetation and many agreeable glimpses of life, with vistas of
modest homes and little patches of cultivated ground around them. The
shores were covered with tall vegetation which, we were told, grows
quite tall and is then cut, dried, and used as fuel by the natives. At
first, during our trip, there had been only a low fringe of trees in the
distant background; now mountains appeared as a striking variation, and
thus we had alternating scenes which added to the spatial interest from
this time on. There were occasional picturesque points and promontories
that jutted out into the sea; clustering around, were many large and
smaller craft; once I counted thirty-six in one place.
The steamer anchored at Chang-wang-kong on the second evening, and we
were permitted to go ashore for two hours. We had noticed a brilliantly
lighted building, four stories high, every window gleaming and
presenting an imposing appearance; we naturally expected some artistic
effect in the interior, but, when we came to visit it, the illusion
vanished, as the first and second stories were cut up into small rooms,
each filled with Chinese folk intent upon securing their evening meal;
adjacent rooms were devoted to the culinary operations. Dirt and
confusion and odors permeated everywhere, and we declined to ascend to
the upper story, where the Chinese game of fan-tan was in progress.
Certain homelike English buildings clung near the water front, and we
walked through the usual crowded Chinese streets. The town was laid out
in one long thoroughfare, overlooking the water and sloping backward to
the lesser mountains. We returned, content with the good cheer aboard
our steamer, and were soon sailing on.
[Illustration: _The Little Orphan Rock in the Yangtse River_]
We passed Nanking, formerly the southern capital of China and once a
place of great importance--indeed, a seat of learning and of art. Only
the distant walls could be seen. A little north of Nanking are located
two of the Ming tombs.
The following morning, at eleven, we were again permitted to land, this
time at Wu-ho, quite a large town and evidently the centre for several
industries. After wandering through a few native streets, we took
jinrikishas and visited the heights above. Here was situated a fine
garden filled with rose trees all in bloom, the property of the son of
the noted statesman, Li Hung Chang. This was said to be one of his many
palaces; at present he is Minister to England. The afternoon afforded us
a variety of points of interest to seek out; long low islands, boldly
defined mountains, an occasional village, and coves filled with shipping
of all kinds, from the sampan to the five-sail junk. The shores were
clothed with the wonderful green of Spring, which, to my mind, was
excelled only by the matchless verdure of Java.
On the morning of May 15th we met with constant surprises; first, there
was the boldly defined little Orphan Rock, the seat of a Buddhist
monastery which contained, however, only a small retinue of monks. Two
hours later, on the left side of the Yangtse River, there appeared for
the first time a long avenue of trees near the water's edge, while
beyond it was a range of mountains higher than we had seen. Nestling
between two mountains which seemed to hug the water was a village with a
remarkable wall stretching from one peak to the other, and curving down,
thus encircling the town; this wall had a crenellated edge and was
perfectly preserved.
The mountain range continued for some time, and then was succeeded by
the more prevailing flat shore, which soon merged again into mountains.
Perched high up on a projecting hill, another monastery gleamed white
through the encircling trees. We sailed onward toward the right, and the
Captain pointed out on our left the entrance to Lake Poyang, which shone
in the distance, and rising boldly out of which could be dimly seen the
greater Orphan Island, where towered a large pagoda said to be two
hundred and fifty feet high. From now on, the scenery changed rapidly,
and first one side of the shore and then the other side claimed our
attention and admiration; the river being very wide, and the steamer
also constantly changing its course, we were thus given a fine
opportunity for observation.
[Illustration: _Road to Kaling above Kia-Kiang_]
Our next excitement occurred when we approached Kia-kiang. We first saw
a high rocky promontory on which a tall seven-story pagoda stood, like
a veritable sentinel; rounding the point, a long shore line was
protected by a seawall which stretched to the extreme point of land
where Kia-kiang is situated. Near the pagoda were homes and native
buildings, then some business houses; farther back from the shore rose
another towering pagoda, and farther still another, while a tiny temple
was perched on an eminence. Embowered in trees, we also found the white
homes of foreign residents, presumably English. There was a great deal
of shipping in port which gave evidence of the city's being a business
centre. Three hours' time was given us on land, but few availed
themselves of the privilege because of a heavy rain. On leaving
Kia-kiang a low shore was seen, then a long island, covered with homes
of a simple kind, with their little gardens; every inch of ground was
under cultivation. The shades of night soon shut off our view, but at 9
A.M. we were again anchored--this time at Wu-such. Only the gleaming
lights in the distance were visible. Two more places were to be passed
during the night, Wang-tu-kiang and Wen-chou; and Hankow was to confront
us on the morrow.
The Yangtse River rises three thousand miles away, near Tibet, and
covers the whole of the Empire; thus far we had traversed six hundred
miles of it. Despite what we praised, however, we could not help
longing to meet with the bolder scenery which a longer trip would have
revealed to us. A heavy rain prevented much sight-seeing at Hankow on
the first day, which was fortunately Sunday; thus we received our
initial impressions of the city from the steamer, a view which took in a
long Bund, fronting the water's edge, and filled with fine buildings,
evidently of a European style of architecture; we were told that they
were the different homes of the English, French, and German consulates,
the French even having a special park attached to theirs. At the extreme
left were large business houses and a club. Hankow is a great depository
for tea, and, with the two adjacent cities of Han-yang and Wu-chang, it
has an immense population, reaching into the millions. Many religious
denominations are said to be represented in Hankow, but we saw no
pretentious churches. The harbor or water-front has a stone embankment;
a large amount of shipping is to be seen, many of the boats being of
peculiar construction.
[Illustration: _The Hankow bund_]
The following morning, we had a few hours in which to view the city
before taking the train for Peking. We first visited the native quarter.
The heavy rain of the previous day caused a great deal of mud, and as we
attempted to drive through the narrow streets and bazars, the dirt
floors of the little homes and shops were a sea of mud, while the
inmates were preparing breakfast and attending to other domestic
avocations in perfect unconcern; it was certainly not an inspiring
scene, and the worst native quarter we had visited during our stay in
China. We did not extend our observation very far, but turned to the
more attractive Bund, which is about three miles in extent. Here we had
a nearer view of the consulates, from each of which a street led down to
the water's edge. In the French concession we noticed the same naming of
streets and buildings that we had seen in Shanghai; this was also true
of the German and English concessions, thus making of each a little
miniature city. There is a fine English club at Hankow, and a long line
of tea factories called godowns; the odor of tea was distinctly
noticeable for three blocks. From May to the middle of July the tea
industry of Hankow is great, and large numbers of dealers and
speculators interested in the business congregate there.
We took the train at 11 A.M. for Peking, with every expectation of
arriving there at 4 P.M.
* * * * *
PEKING, _March 18th_: The railway trip from Hankow to Peking is not
interesting, for it is largely over a vast extent of plain without
foliage or vegetation. Occasionally we passed small towns with a few
planted trees. The latter part of the way seemed almost like a desert;
there being little to observe, one had time to reflect, and, in some
inscrutable manner, the immensity of China, its extreme age, its teeming
population, and its unreality, judged by Western standards, began to
dawn on me. I had previously failed to realize that I was actually in
China. Having seen the Chinese at several points before reaching
Hong-Kong, that city with its English environment did not impress me
greatly. Canton seemed an unrelated place, a kind of a by-play. The
Shanghai I knew was modern.
As we approached Peking, we caught a glimpse of the Great Wall, a
massive gray bulk, with the immense corner tower, which produced a
feeling of awe, standing as though it were an entrance into a city of
mystery--a walled town of over twenty miles in circumference which was
virtually the product of four walled cities in one. We were housed in
the new and spacious Grand Hôtel des Wagons-lits. Our stay was to cover
just a little over a week; hence vigorous sight-seeing was at once
inaugurated, and the first impression received was the great age of
everything that surrounded us.
[Illustration: _The Great Wall at Peking_]
Peking was made the capital of the whole Empire by Mongol Kublai Khan,
the Wise, a munificent ruler who laid the foundation plan of what we see
to-day; but the origin of the city dates back some centuries before the
Christian era. The Ming Dynasty extended over nearly three centuries;
then China, being threatened by an invasion of the Manchus from the
north, was aided in her resistance by the Manchus at home, and, through
a peculiar combination, they secured possession of the throne and have
held it ever since. The foreign rule is hated by the true Chinese.
The four sections of Peking are: (1) The Forbidden City, called the
Purple City by the Chinese because formerly only purple mortar was used.
It consists virtually of a palace and adjacent buildings, and embraces a
population of nearly six thousand. This portion of the city has for ages
been closed to foreigners, with the exception of a few months
immediately after the Boxer trouble in 1900, when excursions to the
Forbidden City were made, photographs secured, and also a small
guide-book prepared. (2) The Imperial City surrounds the Forbidden City,
and is now in great part closed. (3) The Tartar City surrounds the
Imperial City, and is called the "city within" because it lies within
the walls. (4) The Chinese or Southern City is south of the Tartar City,
and extends somewhat beyond it to the east and west.
Next to the Great Wall, the gateways should demand our interest. There
are several, and Hata-men is the one which we frequently passed through.
It was always thronged. The most densely crowded entrance, however, was
the Chinese gate, Chien-men; here, at times, it was almost impossible
for the jinrikisha to make a passage. The street scenes in Peking are
wonderful because of their variety, and the length of the streets adds
to their picturesqueness, although they are not quite so spectacular as
those of Jeypore, India.
Many different styles of dress are seen. I noticed the long flowing robe
of the Manchu women, with the Manchu head-dress and a remarkable
arrangement of hair on a frame, spreading at the back with a sort of
elongated butterfly effect, and held in place by a bright gold hairpin.
The bands of hair are brought over in a way to give the impression of
long loops, and they are decorated with bright flowers. The Manchu women
are taller than the Chinese women, and walk with a statelier tread, as
their feet have never been bound, the present Empress many years ago
having issued an edict prohibiting that custom. The edict is, however,
evaded, as Chinese fathers and husbands insist that the custom be kept
up, seeming to imagine that abolishing it would have some peculiar
effect on the character of the wife, perhaps resulting in
insubordination. The Chinese women part their glossy black hair in the
middle, wear it in smooth bands down the side of the forehead, and dress
it in the back in a great variety of low loops. They also wear
jewelled and gold hairpins that are really very artistic. Their dress
consists of the long black sack coat and loose trousers, much like those
of a man. The children of Peking, unlike those of the Orient, where
clothes are virtually dispensed with, wear long-sleeved, high-necked
garments reaching to the feet.
[Illustration: _Hata-men Gate_]
The bazars and shopping streets in Peking were interesting, many of the
buildings rising four stories in height, and having the same long narrow
decorated signs that I described in Canton. At intervals along the way
very high poles are erected, and on these are placed different kinds of
signs, giving these streets a brilliant appearance. The usual throng of
dealers and of diverse nationalities are represented, resulting in a
great deal of bustle and activity, a great deal of noise and dirt. The
crowds around some of the gateways included rows of vehicles and
sometimes a group of camels; but the most individual of all conveyances
is the Peking cart; indeed, I have never seen any inanimate object that
wore so individual an air, and when viewed in large numbers, their
appearance is most peculiar. This cart is two-wheeled, with a roof, and
with sides and back enclosed. One horse is used. In the front opening
sits the driver, some one usually at his side, while behind him, far in
the back, may be seen the faces of the occupants peering out. Many of
the carts used by the ordinary people have no windows or openings on the
side; others have windows covered with a kind of netting which admits
some air.
The Llama Temple is considered to be one of the most important places to
visit; it is in the eastern quarter of the Tartar City. The rule has
been that just as soon as an emperor ascends the throne, the palace that
he had previously occupied shall be changed into a temple. Such was the
origin of the Llama Temple, once presided over by three thousand Mongol
Llamas, and, at the head of them, a living Buddha. The temple has six
parts: first the outside gate, then the entrance gate, then a large hall
of very imposing proportions, in front of this a tablet upon which is
inscribed the history of Llamaism. Before this tablet rests a bronze
incense burner eight feet high, and on the southwest wall of the temple
hangs a picture of the universe, upheld by the four-clawed feet of a
huge sea-monster with three eyes. There are also three lofty pavilions.
Beautiful silken rugs used to be laid on the floor of the impressive
hall, and on the walls were very fine hangings. Many precious articles
were carried away in 1900, at the time of the Boxer trouble, and some
may still be hidden.
[Illustration: _Peking girls_]
[Illustration: _Llama Temple_]
There is a colossal Buddha here of very evil countenance, towering three
stories, and said to be seventy feet high. To those versed in Buddhist
lore, these buildings are full of interest; it is only within a few
years that the place has been open to the public. The Llama monks
present a very impressive appearance at their evening service, with
their long gowns crossed over, and their high caps like ancient Roman
casques.