I have already mentioned the prevalence of feast-days, both national
and personal. During my stay in Kiachta there were several of these
happy occasions, and I was told they would last the entire winter. One
man opened his house on his name’s day, and another on that of his
wife. A third received friends on the anniversary of his daughter’s
birth, and a fourth had a regular house-warming. Each kept open
mansion in the forenoon and greeted all who came. There was a grand
dinner in the afternoon, followed by a _soiree dansame_ and a supper
at a late hour. In a population like that of Kiachta there is a weekly
average of at least three feast days for the entire year. During my
stay Major Boroslofski had a morning reception on the anniversary of
the death of a child, but there was naturally neither dinner nor dance
after it.
The dinner and dancing parties were much alike, the same company being
present at all. Even the servants were the same, there being a regular
organization to conduct household festivities. At the first dinner I
attended there were about forty persons at table, all of the sterner
sex. According to the custom among Russian merchants the ladies were
by themselves in another room. Between their apartment and ours there
was a large room, corresponding, as I thought, to the neutral ground
between Kiachta and Maimaichin. Doors were open, and though nobody
occupied the _terre neutrale_ during dinner, both parties retired to
it at the end of the meal.
The dinner would have been a success in St. Petersburg or Paris; how
much more was it a triumph on the boundary between China and Siberia.
Elegant and richly furnished apartments, expensive table ware, and a
profusion of all procurable luxuries, were the attractions of the
occasion. We had apples from European Russia, three thousand miles
westward, and grapes from Pekin, a thousand miles to the south. There
were liberal quantities of dried and preserved fruits, and the wines
were abundant and excellent. Of the local productions we had many
substantials, till all appetites were satisfied.
According to Russian custom the host does not partake of the dinner,
but is supposed to look after the welfare of his guests. At Kiachta I
found this branch of etiquette carefully observed. Two or three times
during the dinner the host passed around the entire table and filled
each person’s glass with wine. Where he found an unemptied cup he
urged its drainage.
After we left the table tea was served, and I was fain to pronounce it
the best I ever tasted. The evening entertainments for those who did
not dance consisted of cards and conversation, principally the former.
Tea was frequently passed around, and at regular intervals the
servants brought glasses of iced champagne.
The houses of the Kiachta merchants are large and well built, their
construction and adornment requiring much outlay. Nearly all the
buildings are of two stories and situated in large court yards. There
is a public garden, evidently quite gay and pretty in summer. The
church is said to be the finest edifice of the kind in Eastern
Siberia. The double doors in front of the altar are of solid silver,
and said to weigh two thousand pounds avoirdupois. Besides these doors
I think I saw nearly a ton of silver in the various paraphernalia of
the church. There were several fine paintings executed in Europe at
heavy cost, and the floors, walls, and roof of the entire structure
were of appropriate splendor. The church was built at the expense of
the Kiachta merchants. Troitskosavsk contains some good houses, but
they are not equal in luxury to those at Kiachta. Many dwellings in
the former town are of unpainted logs, and each town has its
gastinni-dvor, spacious and well arranged. I visited the market place
every morning and saw curious groups of Russians, Bouriats, Mongols,
and Chinese, engaged in that little commerce which makes the
picturesque life of border towns.
From 1727 to 1860 the Kiachta merchants enjoyed almost a monopoly of
Chinese trade. Fortunes there are estimated at enormous figures, and
one must be a four or five-millionaire to hold respectable rank.
Possibly many of these worldly possessions are exaggerated, as they
generally are everywhere. The Chinese merchants of Maimaichin are also
reputed wealthy, and it is quite likely that the trade was equally
profitable on both sides of the neutral ground. Money and flesh have
affinities. These Russian and Chinese Astors were almost invariably
possessed of fair, round belly, with good capon lined. They have the
spirit of genuine hospitality, and practice it toward friends and
strangers alike.
The treaty of 1860, which opened Chinese ports to Russian ships, was a
severe blow to Kiachta and Maimaichin. Up to that time only a single
cargo of tea was carried annually into Russia by water; all the rest
of the herb used in the empire came by land. Unfortunately the treaty
was made just after the Russian and Chinese merchants had concluded
contracts in the tea districts; these contracts caused great losses
when the treaty went into effect, and for a time paralized commerce.
Kiachta still retains the tea trade of Siberia and sends large
consignments to Nijne Novgorod and Moscow. There is now a good
percentage of profit, but the competition by way of Canton and the
Baltic has destroyed the best of it. Under the old monopoly the
merchants arranged high prices and did not oppose each other with
quick and low sales.
The Kiachta teas are far superior to those from Canton and Shanghae.
They come from the best districts of China and are picked and cured
with great care. There is a popular notion, which the Russians
encourage, that a sea voyage injures tea, and this is cited as the
reason for the character of the herb brought to England and America. I
think the notion incorrect, and believe that we get no first class
teas in America because none are sent there. I bought a small package
of the best tea at Kiachta and brought it to New York. When I opened
it I could not perceive it had changed at all in flavor. I have not
been able to find its like in American tea stores.
Previous to 1850 all trade at Kiachta was in barter, tea being
exchanged for Russian goods. The Russian government prohibited the
export of gold and silver money, and various subterfuges were adopted
to evade the law. Candlesticks, knives, idols, and other articles were
made of pure gold and sold by weight. Of course the goods were “of
Russian manufacture.”
Before 1860 the importation of tea at Kiachta was about one million
chests annually, and all of good quality and not including brick tea.
The “brick tea” of Mongolia and Northern China is made from stalks,
large leaves, and refuse matter generally. This is moistened with
sheep’s or bullock’s blood and pressed into brick-shaped cakes. When
dried it is ready for transportation, and largely used by the Mongols,
Bouriats, Tartars, and the Siberian peasantry. In some parts of
Chinese Tartary it is the principal circulating medium of the people.
Large quantities are brought into Siberia, but “brick-tea” never
enters into the computation of Kiachta trade.
[Illustration: LEGAL TENDER.]
Since 1860 the quantity of fine teas purchased at Kiachta has greatly
fallen off. The importation of brick-tea is undiminished, and some
authorities say it has increased.
None of the merchants speak any language but Russian, and most of them
are firmly fixed at Kiachta. They make now and then journeys to
Irkutsk, and regard such a feat about as a countryman on the Penobscot
would regard a visit to Boston. The few who have been to Moscow and
St. Petersburg have a reputation somewhat analogous to that of Marco
Polo or John Ledyard. Walking is rarely practiced, and the numbers of
smart turnouts, compared to the population, is pretty large. There is
no theatre, concert-room, or newspaper office at Kiachta, and the
citizens rely upon cards, wine, and gossip for amusement. They play
much and win or lose large sums with perfect nonchalance. Visitors are
rare, and the advent of a stranger of ordinary consequence is a great
sensation.
Kiachta and Maimaichin stand on the edge of a Mongolian steppe seven
or eight miles wide. Very little snow falls there and that little does
not long remain. Wheeled carriages are in use the entire year. The
elevation is about twenty-five hundred feet above sea level.
There was formerly a custom house at Troitskosavsk, where the duties
on tea were collected. After the occupation of the Amoor the
government opened all the country east of Lake Baikal to free trade.
The custom house was removed to Irkutsk, where all duties are now
arranged.
There were two Englishmen and one Frenchman residing at Kiachta. The
latter, Mr. Garnier, was a merchant, and was about to many a young and
pretty Russian whose mother had a large fortune and thirteen dogs. The
old lady appeared perfectly clear headed on every subject outside of
dogs. A fortnight before my visit she owned fifteen, but the police
killed two on a charge of biting somebody. She was inconsolable at
their loss, took her bed from grief, and seriously contemplated going
into mourning. I asked Garnier what would be the result if every dog
of the thirteen should have his day. “Ah!” he replied, with a sigh,
“the poor lady could never sustain it. I fear it would cause her
death.”
One Englishman, Mr. Bishop, had a telegraph scheme which he had vainly
endeavored for two years to persuade the stubborn Chinese to look upon
with favor. The Chinese have a superstitious dread of the electric
telegraph, and the government is unwilling to do anything not in
accordance with the will of the people.
A few years ago some Americans at Shanghae thought it a good
speculation to construct a telegraph line between that city and the
mouth of the river. The distance was about fifteen miles, and the line
when finished operated satisfactorily. The Chinese made no
interference, either officially or otherwise, with its construction.
[Illustration: RUSSIAN PETS.]
They did not understand its working, but supposed the foreigners
employed agile and invisible devils to run along the wires and convey
intelligence. All went well for a month or two. One night a Chinese
happened to die suddenly in a house that stood near a telegraph pole.
A knowing Celestial suggested that one of the foreign devils had
descended from the wire and killed the unfortunate native. A mob very
soon destroyed the dangerous innovation.
The other Englishman, Mr. Grant, was the projector and manager of a
Pony Express from Kiachta to Pekin. He forwarded telegrams between
London and Shanghae merchants, any others who chose to employ him. He
claimed that his Mongol couriers made the journey to Pekin in twelve
days, and that he could outstrip the Suez and Ceylon telegraph and
steamers. He seemed a permanent fixture of Kiachta, as he had married
a Russian lady, the daughter of a former governor. All these
foreigners placed me under obligations for various favors, and the two
Britons were certainly more kind to me than to each other.
[Illustration: PONY EXPRESS.]
I spent an evening at the club-rooms, where there was some heavy
card-playing. One man lost nine hundred roubles in half an hour, and
they told me that such an occurrence was not uncommon. In all card
playing I ever witnessed in Russia there was ‘something to make it
interesting.’ Money is invariably staked, and the Russians were
surprised when I said, in answer to questions, that people in America
generally indulged in cards for amusement alone. Ladies had no
hesitation in gambling, and many of them followed it passionately.
‘_Chaque pays a sa habitude_,’ remarked a lady one evening when I
answered her query about card playing in America. It was the Russian
fashion to gamble, and no one dreamed of making the slightest
concealment of it. Though I saw it repeatedly I could never rid myself
of a desire to turn away when a lady was reckoning her gains and
losses, and keeping her accounts on the table cover. Russian card
tables are covered with green cloth and provided with chalk pencils
and brushes for players’ use. Cards are a government monopoly.
[Illustration: CHINESE COLLAR.]
[Illustration: SUSPENDED FREEDOM.]
On the day fixed for my dinner with the sargoochay I accompanied the
Police Master and Captain Molostoff to Maimaichin. As we entered the
court yard of the government house several officers came to receive
us. In passing the temple of Justice I saw an unfortunate wretch
undergoing punishment in a corner of the yard. Ho was wearing a collar
about three feet in diameter and made of four inch plank. It was
locked about his neck, and the man was unable to bring his hand to his
head. A crowd was gazing at the culprit, but he seemed quite
unconcerned and intent upon viewing the strangers. The Chinese have a
system of yokes and stocks that seem a refinement of cruelty. They
have a cheerful way of confining a man in a sort of cage about three
feet square, the top and bottom being of plank and the sides of square
sticks. His head passes through the top, which forms a collar
precisely like the one described above, while the sides are just long
enough to force him to stand upon the tip of his toes or hang
suspended by his head. In some instances a prisoner’s head is passed
through a hole in the bottom of a heavy cask. He cannot stand erect
without lifting the whole weight, and the cask is too long to allow
him to sit down. He must remain on his knees in a torturing position,
and cannot bring his hands to his head. He relies on his friends to
feed him, and if he has no friends he must starve. The jailers think
it a good joke when a man loses the number of his mess in this way.
[Illustration: PUNISHMENT FOR BURGLARY.]
The sargoochay met us in the apartment where our reception took place.
He seated us around a table in much the same manner as before. While
we waited dinner I exhibited a few photographs of the Big Trees of
California, which I took with me at Molostoff’s suggestion. I think
the representative of His Celestial Majesty was fairly astonished on
viewing these curiosities. The interpreter told him that all trees in
America were like those in the pictures, and that we had many
cataracts four or five miles high.
To handle our food we had forks and chopsticks, and each guest had a
small saucer of _soy_, or vinegar, at his right hand. The food was
roast pig and roast duck, cut into bits the size of one’s thumb nail,
and each piece was to be dipped in the vinegar before going into the
mouth. Then there were dishes of hashed meat or stew, followed by
minced pies in miniature. I was a little suspicious of the last
articles and preferred to stick to the pig.
[Illustration: CHOPSTICKS, FORK, & SAUCER.]
We had good claret and bad sherry, followed by Chinese wine. Champagne
was brought when we began drinking toasts. Chinese wine, _sam-shoo,_
is drank hot, from cups holding about a thimbleful. It is very strong,
one cup being quite sufficient. The historic Bowery boy drinking a
glass of Chinese wine might think he had swallowed a pyrotechnic
display on Fourth of July night.
We conversed as before, going through English, French, Russian,
Mongol, and Chinese, and after dinner smoked our pipes and cigars. The
sargoochay had a pipe with a slender bowl that could be taken out for
reloading, like the shell of a Remington rifle. A single whiff served
to exhaust it, and the smoke passing through water became purified. An
attendant stood near to manage the pipe of His Excellency whenever his
services were needed. We endeavored to smoke each others’ pipes and
were quite satisfied after a minute’s experience. His tobacco was very
feeble, and I presume mine was too strong for his taste.
The sargoochay had ordered a theatrical display in my honor, though it
was not ‘the season,’ and the affair was hastily gotten up. When all
was ready he led the way to the theatre; the pipe-bearer came
respectfully in our rear, and behind him was the staff and son of the
sargoochay. The stage of the theatre faced an open court yard, and was
provided with screens and curtains, but had no scenery that could be
shifted. About thirty feet in front of the stage was a pavilion of
blue cloth, open in front and rear. We were seated around a table
under this pavilion, and drank tea and smoked while the performance
was in progress. There was a crowd of two or three hundred Chinese
between the pavilion and the stage. The Mongol soldiers kept an open
passage five or six feet wide in front of us so that we had an
unobstructed view.
[Illustration: CHINESE THEATRE.]
A comedy came first, and I had little difficulty in following the
story by the pantomime alone. Female characters were represented by
men, Chinese law forbidding women to act on the stage. Certain parts
of the play were open to objections on account of immodesty, but when
no ladies are present I presume a Chinese audience is not fastidious.
The comedy was followed by something serious, of which I was unable to
learn the name. I supposed it represented the superiority of the
deities over the living things of earth.
First, there came representations of different animals. There were the
tiger, bear, leopard, and wolf, with two or three beasts whose genera
and species I could not determine. There was an ostrich and an
enormous goose, both holding their heads high, while a crocodile, or
something like it, brought up the rear. Each beast and bird was made
of painted cloth over light framework, with a man inside to furnish
action. While the tiger was making himself savage the mask fell off,
and revealed the head of a Chinese. A rent in the skin of the ostrich
disclosed the arm of the performer inside. The animals were not very
well made, and the accident to the tiger’s head reminded me of the
Bowery elephant whose hind legs became very drunk and fell among the
orchestra, leaving the fore legs to finish the play.
[Illustration: CHINESE TIGER.]
Each animal made a circuit of the stage, bowed to the sargoochay, and
retired. Then came half a dozen performers, only one being visible at
a time. They were dressed, as I conjectured, to represent Chinese
divinities, and as each appeared upon the stage he made a short
recitation in a bombastic tone. The costumes of these actors were
brilliantly decorated with metal ornaments, and there was a luxuriance
of beard on most of the performer’s faces, quite in contrast to the
scanty growth which nature gave them. When the deities were assembled
the animals returned and prostrated themselves in submission. A second
speech from each actor closed the theatrical display. During all the
time we sat under the pavilion the crowd looked at me far more
intently than at the stage. An American was a great curiosity in the
city limits of Maimaichin.
The performance began about two o’clock and lasted less than an hour.
At its close we thanked the sargoochay for his courtesy, and returned
to Kiachta. One of my Russian acquaintances had invited me to dine
with him; “you can dine with the sargoochay at one o’clock,” he said,
“and will be entirely able to enjoy my dinner two hours later.” I
found the dinner at Maimaichin more pleasing to the eye than the
stomach, and returned with a good appetite.
Some years ago the Russian government abolished the office of Governor
of Kiachta and placed its military and kindred affairs in the hands of
the Chief of Police. Diplomatic matters were entrusted to a
‘Commissary of the Frontier,’ who resided at Kiachta, while the Chief
of Police dwelt at Troitskosavsk. When I arrived there, Mr. Pfaffius,
the Commissary of the Frontier, was absent, though hourly expected
from Irkutsk.
Mr. Pfaffius arrived on the third day of my visit, and invited me to a
dinner at his house on the afternoon of my departure for Irkutsk. As
the first toast of the occasion he proposed the President of the
United States, and regretted deeply the misfortune that prevented his
drinking the health of Mr. Lincoln. In a few happy remarks he touched
upon the cordial feeling between the two nations, and his utterance of
good-will toward the United States was warmly applauded by all the
Russians present. In proposing the health of the Emperor I made the
best return in my power for the courtesy of my Muscovite friends.