At daylight on the morning after leaving Igoon, we were passing the
mouth of the Zeya, a river half a mile wide, flowing with a strong
current. It was along this river that the first white men who saw the
Amoor found their way. It is said to be practicable for steam
navigation three or four hundred miles from its mouth. At present four
or five thousand peasants are settled along the Zeya, with excellent
agricultural prospects. As I came on deck rubbing my half-opened eyes,
I saw a well-built town on the Russian shore.
“Blagoveshchensk,” said the steward, as he waved his arm in that
direction.
I well knew that the capital of the Province of the Amoor was just
above the mouth of the Zeya. It stands on a prairie fifteen or twenty
feet above the river, and when approached from the south its
appearance is pleasing. The houses are large and well built, and each
has plenty of space around it. Some of them have flower gardens in
front, and a public park was well advanced toward completion at the
time of my arrival.
A wharf extended into the river at an angle of forty degrees with the
shore. The steamer Korsackoff was moored at this wharf, with a barge
nearly her own size. The Ingodah tied to the bank just below the
wharf, and was welcomed by the usual crowd of soldiers and citizens,
with a fair number of Manjours from the other bank.
On landing, I called upon Colonel Pedeshenk, the governor of the
Province, and delivered my letters of introduction. The Colonel
invited me to dine with him that day, and stated that several
officers of his command would be present. After this visit and a few
others, I went with Captain Borasdine to attend the funeral of the
late Major General Bussy. This gentleman was five years governor of
the Province of the Amoor, and resigned in 1866 on account of
ill-health. He died on his way to St. Petersburg, and the news of his
death reached Blagoveshchensk three days before my arrival. I happened
to reach the town on the morning appointed for the funeral service.
The church was crowded, everybody standing, according to the custom
prevailing in Russia. Colonel Pedeshenk and his officers were in full
uniform, and almost all present held lighted candles. Five or six
priests, with an Archbishop, conducted the ceremonies. The services
consisted of a ritual, read and intoned by the priests, with chanting
by the choir of male voices. The Archbishop was in full robes
belonging to his position, and his long gray beard and reverend face
gave him a patriarchal appearance. When the ceremony was finished the
congregation opened to the right and left to permit the governor and
officers to pass out first. From beginning to end the service lasted
about an hour.
Colonel Pedeshenk had been governor but a few months, and awaited
confirmation in his position. Having served long on the staff of
General Bussy, he was disposed to follow in the footsteps of his
predecessor and carry out his plans for developing the resources of
his district.
At the appointed hour I went to dine at the governor’s, where I found
eight or ten officers and the young wife of Colonel Pedeshenk. We
spent a half-hour on the balcony, where there was a charming view of
the river and the Chinese shore with its background of mountains. The
governor’s house was more like a mansion in a venerable town than in a
settlement less than ten years old. The reception hall would have made
a good ball-room anywhere out of the large cities.
The charming young madame did not speak English but was fluent in
French. She was from Irkutsk, and had spent several years in the
schools and society of St. Petersburg. She had many reminiscences of
the capital, and declared herself delighted with her home on the
Amoor. After dinner we retired to the balcony for prosaic tea drinking
and a poetical study of the glories of an autumn sunset behind the
hills of Manjouria.
There was no hotel in the town, and I had wondered where I should
lodge. Before I had been half an hour on shore, I was invited by Dr.
Snider, the surgeon in chief of the province, to make my home at his
house. The doctor spoke English fluently, and told me he learned it
from a young American at Ayan several years before. He was ten years
in government service at Ayan, and met there many of my countrymen.
Once he contemplated emigrating to New Bedford at the urgent
solicitation of a whaling captain who frequently came to the Ohotsk
sea.
Dr. Snider was from the German provinces of Russia, and his wife, a
sister of Admiral Fulyelm, was born in Sweden. They usually conversed
in German but addressed their children in Russian. They had a Swedish
housemaid who spoke her own language in the family and only used
Russian when she could not do otherwise. Madame Snider told me her
children spoke Swedish and Russian with ease, and understood German
very well. They intended having a French or English governess in
course of time.
“I speak,” said the doctor, “German with my wife, Swedish to the
housemaid, Russian to my other servants, French with some of the
officers, English with occasional travelers, and a little Chinese and
Manjour with the natives over the river.”
Blagoveshchensk has a pretty situation, and I should greatly prefer it
to Nicolayevsk for permanent habitation. In the middle of the Amoor
valley and at the mouth of the Zeya, its commercial advantages are
good and its importance increases every year. It was founded in 1858
by General Mouravieff, but did not receive any population worthy of
mention until after the treaty of Igoon in 1860. The government
buildings are large and well constructed, logs being the material in
almost universal use for making walls. A large unfinished house for
the telegraph was pointed out to me, and several warehouses were in
process of erection.
Late one afternoon the captain of the steamer Korsackoff invited me to
visit Sakhalin-Oula-Hotun (city of the black river) on the opposite
shore. Though called a city it cannot justly claim more than two
thousand inhabitants. There was a crowd on the bank similar to the one
at Igoon, most of the women and girls standing with their arms folded
in their sleeves. Several were seated close to the water and met the
same misfortune as those in similar positions at Igoon. The Korsackoff
made a much greater swell than the Ingodah, and those who caught its
effects were well moistened. We landed from, the steamer’s boat and
ascended the bank to the village. Several fat old Manjours eyed us
closely and answered with great brevity our various questions.
Sakhalin-Oula stretches more than a mile along the bank, but extends
only a few rods back from the river. Practically it consists of a
single street, which is quite narrow in several places. The houses are
like those of Igoon, with frames of logs and coverings of boards, or
with log walls plastered with mud. The windows of stores and dwellings
are of lattice work covered with oiled paper, glass being rarely used.
The roofs of the buildings were covered with thatch of wheat straw
several inches thick, that must offer excellent facilities for taking
fire. Probably the character of this thatch accounts for the chimneys
rising ten or fifteen feet from, the buildings. I saw several men
arranging one of these roofs. On a foundation of poles they laid
bundles of straw, overlapping them as we overlap shingles, and cutting
the boards to allow the straw to spread evenly. This kind of covering
must be renewed every two or three years. Several thatches were very
much decayed, and in one of them there was a fair growth of grass. The
village was embowered in trees in contrast to the Russian shore where
the only trees were those in the park. I endeavored to ascertain the
cause of this difference, but could not. The Russians said there was
often a variation of three or four degrees in the temperature of the
two banks, the Chinese one being the milder. Timber for both Chinese
and Russian use is cut in the forests up the Amoor and rafted down.
Sakhalin-Oula abounded in vegetable gardens, which supplied the market
of Blagoveshchensk. The number of shops both there and at Igoon led me
to consider the Manjours a population of shop-keepers. Dr. Snider said
they brought him everything for ordinary table use, and would contract
to furnish at less than the regular price, any article sold by the
Russian merchants. In their enterprise and mode of dealing they were
much like the Jews of Europe and America, which may account for their
being called Manjours. Once a month during the full moon they come to
Blagoveshchensk and open a fair, which continues seven days. They sell
flour, buckwheat, beans, poultry, eggs, vegetables, and other edible
articles. The Russians usually purchase a month’s supply at these
times, but when they wish anything out of the fair season the Manjours
are ready to furnish it.
We walked along a narrow street, less muddy than the streets of Igoon,
and passed several cattle yards enclosed with high fences, like
California corrals. In one yard there were cattle and horses, so
densely packed that they could not kick freely. Groups of natives
stared at us while smoking their little pipes, and doubtless wondered
why we came there. Several eyed me closely and asked my companions who
and what I could be. The explanation that I was American conveyed no
information, as very few of them ever heard of the land of the free
and the former home of the slave.
One large building with a yard in front and an inscription over its
gate was pointed out as a government office. Several employees of the
Emperor of China were standing at the gateway, all smoking and
enjoying the evening air. At a hitching post outside the gate there
were three saddled horses of a breed not unlike the ‘Canadian.’ The
saddles would be uncomfortable to an American, cavalry officer, though
not so to a Camanche Indian. According to my recollection of our
equestrian savage I think his saddle is not much unlike the
Mongolians’.
Beyond this establishment we entered a yard in front of a new and
well-built house. Near the door was the traveling carriage of the
governor of Igoon, who had arrived only an hour or two before. The
carriage was a two-wheeled affair, not long enough to permit one to
lie at full length nor high enough to sit bolt upright. It had no
springs, the frame resting fairly on the axles. The top was rounded
like that of a butcher’s cart and the sides were curtained with blue
cloth that had little windows or peep-holes. I looked behind the
curtain and saw that the sides and bottom were cushioned to diminish
the effect of jolting. Two or three small pillows, round and hard,
evidently served to fill vacancies and wedge the occupant in his
place.
[Illustration: MANJOUR TRAVELING CARRIAGE.]
The shafts were like those of a common dray, and the driver’s position
was on a sort of shelf within ten inches of the horse’s tail. There
was room for a postillion on the shelf with the driver, the two
sitting back to back and their legs hanging over the side. The
wheel-tires were slightly cogged as if made for use in a machine, and
altogether the vehicle did not impress me as a comfortable one. Being
without springs it gives the occupant the benefit of all jolting, and
as the Chinese roads are execrable, I imagine one might feel after a
hundred miles in such a conveyance very much as if emerging from an
encounter with a champion prize-fighter.
Sometimes the Chinese officials set the wheels of their carts very far
aft so as to get a little spring from the long shafts. Even with this
improvement the carriage is uncomfortable, and it is no wonder that
the Chinese never travel when they can avoid it.
Entering a hall that led to a larger apartment, we reached the
presence of the governor of Igoon. He was seated on a mat near the
edge of a wide divan, his legs crossed like a tailor’s at his work. He
was in a suit of light-colored silk, with a conical hat bearing a
crystal ball on the top. It is generally understood that the grade of
a Chinese official may be known by the ball he wears on his hat. Thus
there are red, blue, white, yellow, green, crystal, copper, brass, _et
cetera_, according to the rank of the wearer. These balls take the
place of the shoulder-strap and epaulettes of western civilization,
and it must be admitted that they occupy the most conspicuous position
one could select. As I am not versed in details of the orders of
Chinese rank I will not attempt to give the military and civil status
of my new acquaintance. I learned that he was a general in the army,
had displayed skill and bravery in subduing the rebellion, and been
personally decorated by the Emperor.
He was enjoying his pipe and a cup of tea, resting the latter on a
little table at his side. He was an old man,—of how many years I dare
not try to guess,—with a thin gray beard on his short chin, and a
face that might have been worn by the Knight of the Sorrowful
Countenance. I was introduced as an American who had come to see
China, and especially the portion bordering on the Amoor. We shook
hands and I was motioned to a seat at his side on the edge of the
divan.
Tea and cigars opened the way to a slow fire of conversation. I spoke
in French with Borasdine, who rendered my words in Russian to the
governor’s interpreter. The principal remarks were that we were
mutually enchanted to see each other, and that I was delighted at my
visit to Igoon and Sakhalin-Oula.
Several officials entered and bowed low before the governor, shaking
their clenched hands at him during the obeisance. One wore a red and
another a yellow ball, the first being in a black uniform and the
second in a white one. The principal feature of each uniform was a
long coat reaching below the knees, with a cape like the capes of our
military cloaks. Both dresses were of silk, and the material was of
excellent quality.
The floor of the room was of clay, beaten smooth and cleanly swept.
The furniture consisted of the divan before mentioned, with two or
three rolls of bedding upon it, a Chinese table, and two Chinese and
three Russian chairs. The walls were covered with various devices
produced from the oriental brain; and an American clock and a French
mirror showed how the Celestials have become demoralized by commerce
with outside barbarians. The odor from the kitchen filled the room,
and as we thought the governor might be waiting for his supper, we
bade him good evening and returned to the boat and the Russian shore.
During my stay at Blagoveshchensk I was invited to assist at a visit
made by the governor of Igoon to Colonel Pedeshenk. The latter sent
his carriage at the appointed hour to bring the Chinese dignitary and
his chief of staff. A retinue of ten or twelve officers followed on
foot, and on entering the audience hall they remained standing near
the door. The greetings and hand-shakings were in the European style,
and after they were ended the Chinese governor took a seat and
received his pipe from his pipe-bearer. He wore a plain dress of grey
silk and a doublet or cape of blue with embroidery along the front. He
did not wear his decorations, the visit being unofficial.
In addition to the ball on his hat he wore a plume or feather that
stood in a horizontal position. His chief of staff was the most
elaborately dressed man of the party, his robes being more gaily
decorated than the governor’s. The members of the staff wore mandarin
balls of different colors, and all had feathers in their hats. The
governor’s hair was carefully done up, and I suspect his queue was
lengthened with black silk.
Conversation was carried on through the Colonel’s interpreter, and ran
upon various topics. General Bussy’s death was mentioned in terms of
regret, and then followed an interchange of compliments between the
two governors who met for the first time. After this the Chinese
governor spoke of my visit to Sakhalin-Oula, and said I was the first
American he ever met in his province.
“How did I come from America,” he asked, “and how far had I traveled
to reach Blagoveshchensk?”
The interpreter named the distance and said I came to the Amoor in a
ship connected with the telegraph service.
“When would the telegraph be finished?”
He was told that within two or three years they would probably be able
to send messages direct to America.
Then he asked if the railway would not soon follow the telegraph. He
had never seen either, but understood perfectly their manner of
working. He expressed himself pleased at the progress of the telegraph
enterprise, but did not intimate that China desired anything of the
kind. The interview lasted about an hour, and ended with a
leave-taking after the European manner.
There is much complaint among the Russians that the treaty of 1860 is
not carried out by the Chinese. It is stipulated that trade shall be
free along the entire boundary between the two empires, and that
merchants can enter either country at will. The Chinese merchants are
not free to leave their own territory and visit Russia, but are
subject to various annoyances at the hands of their own officials. I
was repeatedly informed at Blagoveshchensk that the restrictions upon
commerce wore very serious and in direct violation of the
stipulations. One gentleman told me:
“Every Manjour trader that brings anything here pays a tax of twenty
to fifty per cent, for permission to cross the river. We pay now a
third more for what we purchase than when we first settled here. The
merchants complain of the restriction, and sometimes, though rarely,
manage to evade it. Occasionally a Manjour comes to me offering an
article twenty or thirty per cent, below his usual price, explaining
that he smuggled it and requesting me not to expose him.”
I asked if the taxation was made by the Chinese government, and was
answered in the negative.
“Thee police of Igoon and Sakhalin-Oula regulate the whole matter. It
is purely a black-mail system, and the merchant who refuses to pay
will be thrown into prison on some frivolous charge. The police master
of Igoon has a small salary, but has grown very wealthy in a few
years. The Russian and Chinese governors have considered the affair
several times, but accomplish nothing. On such occasions the Chinese
governor summons his police-master and asks him if there is any truth
in the charges of the corruption of his subordinates. Of course he
declares everything correct, and there the matter ends.”
How history repeats itself! Compare this with the conduct of certain
Treasury officials along the Mississippi during our late war. The
cases were exactly parallel. The government scandalized, trade
restricted, and merchants plundered, to fill the pockets of rapacious
officers! I began to think the Mongol more like the Anglo-Saxon than
ethnologists believe, and found an additional argument for the unity
of the human race.
If I knew the Emperor of China I should counsel him to open his
oblique eyes. If he does not he may find the conduct of the Igoon
police a serious affair for his dominions. Russia, like Oliver Twist,
desires more. When the opportunity comes she will quietly take
possession of Manjouria and hold both banks of the Amoor. If the
treaty of 1860 continues to be violated the Governor General of
Eastern Siberia will have an excellent excuse for taking the district
of Igoon and all it contains under his powerful protection.
On the day I reached Blagoveshchensk I saw an emigrant camp near the
town. The emigrants had just landed from the rafts with which they
descended the Amoor. They came from Astrachan, near the mouth of the
Volga, more than five thousand miles away, and had been two years on
their travels. They came with wagons to the head waters of the Amoor,
and there built rafts, on which they loaded everything, including
wagons and teams, and floated to their destination. I did not find
their wagons as convenient as our own, though doubtless they are
better adapted to the road.
The Russian wagon had a semi-circular body, as if a long hogshead were
divided lengthwise and the half of it mounted on wheels, with the open
part uppermost. There was a covering of coarse cloth over a light
framework, lower and less wide than our army wagons. Household goods
fill the wagons, and the emigrants walk for the most part during all
their land journey.
I spent a few minutes at the camp near the town, and found the picture
much like what I saw years ago beyond the Mississippi. Men were busy
with their cattle and securing them for the night; one boy was
bringing water from the river, and another gathering fuel for the
fire; a young woman was preparing supper, and an older one endeavored,
under shelter of the wagon-cover, to put a crying child to sleep.
Westward our star of empire takes its way. Russian emigration presses
eastward, and seeks the rising, as ours the setting sun.
[Illustration: TAIL PIECE—TOWARDS THE SUN]