the contrast between this peace-loving, agricultural population, and the
armed Cossacks who lined the route. The nearer we came to the coast the
more numerous they seemed to become, and there were more and larger
barracks also. Yet the Russian military and the Chinese farmers appear
to live on friendly terms with one another. I frequently saw Russian
soldiers and Chinamen sitting at the same table, merrily talking
together, and I even noticed signs of Russification among the natives,
for many pigtails were twisted up and hidden under a Russian _schapka_.
They eat the same food with an equally good appetite, and appear to have
many tastes in common. If, during the Boxer agitation, the Russian
troops behaved with exceptional cruelty towards the natives, it is
certain that at present there is a perfect understanding between them.
And after all they belong more or less to the same stock; their historic
past is very similar, and they both live the same primitive life.
* * * * *
I was now nearing the end of my journey, and although the progress had
been slow it had been full of incidents. The last obstacle on the route
we encountered at Liaoyang, where a bridge had been swept away. I was
prepared for this delay, for some weeks before, the station-master at
Harbin had given me a thrilling account of the accident. I remember
wondering at the time whether he was exaggerating and trying to dissuade
me from penetrating further into the interior of Manchuria; but when I
saw the state of affairs at Liaoyang I realized that his story had been
perfectly true. The scene before me was one of general confusion.
Thousands of Russian soldiers and Chinese coolies were engaged in
carting sand, cutting poles, and fixing rails; all talking and shouting
at once in different tongues and dialects.
It was a veritable babel. About a thousand men were occupied in
constructing a bridge of stone and iron. A few thousand others were
throwing up sandbanks to check the water, while another gang of workmen
was making a pontoon. We stopped several hours and no one seemed to know
how or when we should get across. But the scene was so exciting, and
gave me such an excellent opportunity of watching the Chinese at work,
that I did not grudge the delay. At last some engineering officers
suggested dividing the train and trying to take it across by the pontoon
in portions.
How it was exactly managed I am unable to describe, for what with the
jerking and bumping of my carriage, and the whistling, creaking, and
groaning of the engine over the swaying pontoon, I had no chance of
making observations. And when the temporary rails over the pontoon
became submerged and the waves dashed up to my carriage door, I followed
the example of the stoker and the guard and stood on the step,
barefooted, ready to jump and attempt to swim to land if the whole
tottering structure should collapse and disappear under the waves.
Thus ended my journey across Manchuria. Many delays and excursions into
the interior had retarded my progress, but at last I arrived safe and
sound at Port Arthur, where I remained two days, including a visit to
Dalny. Port Arthur, as I saw it, was merely a military station on the
extremity of the peninsula of Liaotung. At one time it was the chief
naval arsenal of China, but after the war with Japan its defences and
military works were destroyed. When, in 1898, the Russians leased the
two places, Port Arthur and Dalny, they made the former into a great
military and naval fortress. It was placed under the control of an
admiral who had chief command over the troops and the maritime forces.
He had under him a double staff of naval and military officers,
comprising the commander of the port, the chiefs of the naval staff, the
riflemen, the artillery, the engineering service, and the intelligence
department, the harbour master, the chief of the torpedo division, the
first assistant to the commander of the port, the second assistant, the
commander of the commercial port, the ordnance officers of the
Governor-General, the civil governor, the diplomatic agent, the
secretary of finances, and the chief of the police.
Port Arthur undoubtedly has a very complicated form of administration,
and at first it was suggested that it should be made into an eastern
Kronstadt, or the Asiatic citadel of the great empire. The place itself
and the surrounding hills are full of fortifications, and I have been
assured over and over again that it would be perfectly impossible to
take it by sea. It is one long line of arsenals, torpedo depots,
barracks, and encampments. The fact that Port Arthur is essentially a
military port is not disguised; there are only a few buildings,
including those of the East China Railway Company and the Russo-Chinese
Bank, which do not openly serve military purposes.
A new town has grown up on the opposite side to satisfy the demands of
trade. This is called Dalny, and is situated on the bay of Talienwan, to
the north-west of Port Arthur. The territory, like that of Port Arthur,
was given in lease by China, and it is intended to make this into a free
port connected by the Manchurian Railway with Vladivostok, Moscow, the
Black Sea, and the Baltic. It might in time become the great commercial
centre of the extreme East. The port is about six miles long and very
deep, and offers exceptional facilities for navigation.
Dalny in its present condition has a somewhat paradoxical aspect.
Palaces emerge from the sands, public monuments fill the deserted
squares, avenues and boulevards are traced out on the shore. Dalny is
the hope of the partisans of Russian commerce and progress, while Port
Arthur is the pride of the military party. The development of the former
is encouraged by the energetic efforts of Mr. White; the latter finds a
powerful protector in General Kuropatkin.
[Illustration: GENERAL KUROPATKIN To face page 124]
Port Arthur impressed me greatly on account of its strategic importance,
but what I saw of Dalny did not inspire me with much confidence as to
its commercial future. During my visit I saw all that has been
accomplished since 1898, and certainly, although many things are still
far from perfect, and the mistakes made are very palpable even to the
uninitiated, one cannot fail to recognize that much has been done in so
short a time. But if we knew at what cost all this has been
accomplished, our admiration would probably be considerably reduced.
No boat for Taku was likely to start for some time, so I decided to
continue my journey to Pekin by rail. As far as Ying-tse we travelled
over the main Manchurian line, whence a branch line runs to Niu-chwang.
This is the most northerly port of the Yellow Empire open to foreign
trade. It is situated at a distance of thirteen miles from the mouth of
the river Liao, which discharges into the gulf of Liaotung, a
continuation of the gulf of Pechili. The railway line, which brings
Niu-chwang into direct communication with Siberia and Pekin, was just
finished. Branch lines in the direction of Tien-tsin had existed before
this, but they were destroyed in the late Boxer troubles. To give my
readers a somewhat accurate idea of the importance of this town I
will try to quote from the Official journals:--
The town of Niu-chwang is rapidly growing in importance since the
construction of the railway. The East China Railway between Port Arthur,
Dalny, and the junction of Ta-shik-chia, whence a branch line runs to
Port Arthur, was finished as far as Mukden towards the close of 1899.
The Chinese Imperial line was also completed then. It was subsequently
decided to deal systematically with the mineral resources of Manchuria,
owing to the East China line having laid open the coal-mines at
Mochi-Shan and Z'mershan near the Liaoyang, and at Wafungtien in the
south of the Liaotung peninsula. The railway line runs right along these
rich exploitations. An unprecedented commercial activity has accompanied
these developments, resulting in an increase of 49 per cent. for 1898.
The chief articles of trade for this port are beans and oil-cake, with
an export of 2,241,053 piculs of the former and 2,289,544 piculs of the
latter in 1899. The net quantity of opium imported in 1898 was 92 piculs
as against 2453 in 1879. The importation of opium has been steadily
declining in the course of the last few years, the poppy seed being
largely and successfully cultivated in Manchuria. The total figure of
the trade of this port for 1899 has risen to 48,357,623 taels as
against 32,441,315 in 1898. The port figured conspicuously in the
disturbances of 1900; the Chinese troops which attacked the town being
defeated by the Russians, who took possession of the port. Trade was
necessarily at a standstill in 1900.
Niu-chwang was a revelation to me. I saw for the first time a real
Chinese town in all its immensity. It appeared an inextricable labyrinth
of streets and alleys overflowing with people. All our Western ideas are
reversed here; indeed, buildings and people alike seemed to belong not
only to another hemisphere, but to another planet. The lines are so
strange, the colours so brilliant, the sounds so sharp, that one is at
once deafened, blinded, and astonished. Beyond the city, on the solid
earth, is the floating town on the river. The Liao at this point, little
more than half a mile wide, is literally covered with vessels of every
description.
It is a thronged mass of large merchant ships, smaller boats, and wooden
junks. Each boat is a home, in which always one, and often several,
families are housed with all their belongings: children, pigs, and
poultry filling the decks. Those of the better classes who can afford it
have regular summer-houses on the river, built like pagodas, elaborately
furnished and surrounded by artificial gardens with dwarf trees in
costly pots. In between this confusion of boats, narrow passages and
regular canals are left free on the water, in which graceful canoes are
seen gliding and winding about like gondolas. Both on land and water,
the crowds of human beings, and exuberance of life, are overwhelming.
One feels ill at ease and lost among this surging mass of humanity. The
narrowest streets and the largest squares, the courts and the floating
houses, all teem with life; and, in contrast with the sleepy, passive
multitudes of India, all are active here, from the youngest to the
oldest. All seem intent on their business, all appear to have some
strenuous end in view. The capacity for work which this race possesses
manifests itself everywhere from morning till night. Chinese strength
and vitality are here seen in all their original energy and force.
Niu-chwang is an important place even now, but it has every possibility
and likelihood of becoming one of the great commercial centres of the
future. Its international trade has been hitherto hindered by the fact
that the river is frozen for three months in the year, but since the
completion of the Tien-tsin line the town has become easy of access by
land. A railway bridge over the Liao is projected, and when this is
built the train will run directly from Pekin to St. Petersburg. At
present travellers have to cross the river in wooden junks, and
continue their journey by the Chinese trains.
In the centre of the commercial town is the settlement of the Catholic
Mission. Buried in a maze of tortuous streets, it is almost lost sight
of in the bustle and noise of the adjacent fair, giving the impression
of some Oriental bazaar. The little church, and the few small houses
belonging to the Mission, are enclosed as far as possible by a
whitewashed garden wall, which is but a poor protection in case of siege
or serious disorders. If the populace were to show signs of hostility
that ruinous wall would not hold out long against the mob; but they who
join the Mission, who devote their lives to deeds of charity, who feed
the starving, and care for the destitute, put their trust in a defence
stronger than the strongest towers of this world. From the time that the
missionary leaves his native land and offers his life to the Almighty,
he spends his days in a constant state of uncertainty. From the moment
that he sets foot on the shores of the Yellow Empire dangers of all
kinds crowd around him. These martyrs to duty are continuously exposed
to open and secret persecution, terrible epidemics, privations, and
hardships of all kinds. Yet in spite of manifold trials and dangers,
young priests and nuns who have only just taken the vow, go over to the
Far East, happy and full of zeal, ready to devote their lives to the
noble spiritual work.
On the day of my departure from Niu-chwang I had the good fortune to
witness an historical event, the official transfer of the railway to the
Chinese Governor-General of Manchuria. Since the last war the route
between Niu-chwang and Hankau-chwang had been under the military control
of Russia, while the other route between the latter town and Tien-tsin
was held by British troops. There were great festivities in honour of
the day. The station buildings were decorated with all the pomp of
Asiatic taste; everywhere Venetian masts, floating banners, Chinese
inscriptions, and Russian trophies, announced the great event, with
laurel garlands symbolizing victory, and olive branches speaking of
eternal peace. Ambitious mandarins and gold-bedizened Russian generals
exchanged salutes and bows in sign of mutual respect. No doubt it was a
case of "live and let live," for all appeared quite satisfied.
An interminable programme marked the order of the festivities, and if I
had had an aptitude for journalism I could have written columns upon
"The Official Transfer of the East China Railway Line by Russia to
China." I could have indulged in lengthy descriptions of the receptions,
presentations, floral offerings, banquets, with streams of champagne,
and endless flow of toasts. But the best correspondent could not have
said more than I have done here upon the principal event, the actual
transfer of the railway. He could not have pierced, any more than I
could, that thick veil which hides from us the knowledge as to whether
that railway has actually become Chinese property or not.
The country between Niu-chwang and Hankau-chwang is at first flat and
uninteresting, although rich in vegetation. Nearer to the sea it becomes
more varied, and in parts it is quite picturesque. Some of the bays of
the Yellow Sea--which, by the by, is intensely blue just there--resemble
the fjords and are dominated by craggy rocks. We advanced slowly and
stopped at many stations, the Russian soldiers still always
predominating over the native contingent.
It was late in the evening, when our train, with much noise, passed
through the breach in the famous wall, by which I was greatly impressed.
That enormous mass of masonry, one of the most colossal structures ever
made by human hands, is here seen to the best advantage, skirting the
steep inclines of the mountains, ascending to the tops of the highest
peaks, or descending into the plains to lose itself finally in the
unfathomable depths of the sea.
It is indeed a wonderful sight, and, like that other gigantic human
undertaking, the Pyramids of Egypt, this wall is interesting, not only
for its own sake, but also as marking a stage in the history of the
civilization of the world. I gazed at it, and looked at our powerful
engine, with its long train of American-built carriages, as it passed
through the breach, and in that one glance there was much to comprehend
both from the past and for the future of Asia.
At Hankau-chwang a surprise awaited me. The English troops had finished
their mission, and on this momentous occasion the commander gave a
dinner. The guests were assembled in the little yamen near the station.
The dining-room was tastefully draped and hung with pretty watercolours.
Books and knick-knacks lay about, and the table was covered with an
immaculately white cloth and set out with a dinner-service of severe
simplicity, but scrupulously clean. A simple abode it was, but every
detail of it would bring to temporary inmates the pleasant recollections
of the comforts and the charm of their English homes.
Another interesting stage of my journey was from Hankau-chwang to
Tien-tsin, through one of the richest districts of China. Our train
stopped frequently, for we touched many important towns. Trade is brisk
in this part. In places the ground was cultivated like a vegetable
garden, but the real wealth of the district lies in its coal-mines. In
the way of structural curiosities the two chief sites on the road were
the country house of Li Hung-Chang and Fort Taku.
The late Viceroy and great politician had also been a clever financier.
His weakness for speculation and commercial enterprise was well-known
throughout the country. The coal-mines of this neighbourhood were partly
his property. He not only looked well after his personal affairs, but
also took care to inquire into the financial position of those with whom
he dealt. Whenever he entertained a foreign diplomatist, or granted an
interview to the director of some international company, or even the
head of some ordinary business house desirous of gaining information
about special concessions or privileges, the first question the Viceroy
asked invariably was: "What is he worth? How rich is he?" The success of
a petition depended, so I was told, to a great extent upon the sum of
money poured into the coffers of the statesman as a preliminary
investment.
Fort Taku does not need to be described at length. It has played a
conspicuous part in the history of the last five-and-twenty years--in
the struggles between the West and the East, the White and the Yellow
races. It has been several times bombarded, destroyed, and rebuilt. At
present it is again in ruins.
There is now a new commercial town in course of erection. In the place
of the old-world style, modern colonists have introduced a somewhat
vulgar and insipid form of architecture, which possesses neither the
picturesqueness of the old Chinese towns nor the advantages of our
European cities. The colony is as yet in its infancy, and only counts a
few rows of small houses and some miserable shops.
The last stopping-place on my journey was Tien-tsin. Situated on the
crossing of the Peiho and the Grand Canal, this is one of the most
important towns of China. It has a population of over a million, and is
divided into the city proper, the foreign confines, and the suburbs. The
old part is a perfect specimen of a Chinese town, overpopulated,
brilliant, noisy, and dirty; a hustling, bustling crowd of humanity
living like bees in a hive. It contains many interesting monuments,
although the chief attraction of the city no longer exists, I mean its
enclosure, the wall which surrounded a square of four thousand feet. It
was pulled down to make room for trade traffic.
The European quarter is very different in character; it has large
squares, shady avenues, and beautiful buildings. Each nation represented
there has a little colony of its own, with barracks, commercial offices,
and consular residences. The English colony, which is close to the
French, boasts of the best buildings, has large, well-kept streets, and
is guarded by some very fine-looking Sikhs. The large dwelling-houses,
the homely bungalows, and the turbaned figures of the tall soldiers,
remind one of some Indian cantonment. The Italian and Austrian quarters
are on the other side of the canal, and almost lost among the native
town. Since the occupation of the Allied Troops the importance of
Tien-tsin has grown considerably, and in time it is likely to become a
powerful rival to Shanghai as far as international commercial interests
are concerned. In fact, it has all the commercial advantages of
Shanghai. When we consider that at the time of the Ming dynasty it
occupied only a secondary position, its development is the more
remarkable. Tien-tsin is about eighty miles distant from Pekin, and lies
near the sea; its commercial advantages as the market for export and
import trade are therefore evident.
The railway has added another considerable advantage to the many already
possessed by Tien-tsin, namely that of bringing it into direct
communication with the mainland. Li Hung-Chang, who, in his capacity of
Viceroy, resided there for many years, was a strong supporter of the
place. Under him it became, not only a large commercial centre, but with
the normal schools for the organization of army and navy, other elements
were attracted towards the place, and different occupations introduced.
Tien-tsin, in fact, has become the home of the progressive party.
Pamphlets, daily papers, literary and political clubs, have propagated
the views and ideas of the great Viceroy. It was Li Hung-Chang who
started the first coal-pit in the neighbourhood of Tong-shan, about
thirty years ago, and the export of coal is making rapid progress. The
output amounts at present to nearly three hundred thousand tons. Another
local industry of great importance is the production of salt. This is a
Government monopoly, and is obtained through the evaporation of
sea-water. The salt lies piled up in heaps along the banks of the river.
Spirituous liquors are distilled in large quantities and sent into the
interior. The exports include wines, furs, skins, bristles, and wood.
Export trade, which did not exist five-and-twenty years ago, now reaches
a total of about fifteen million taels per annum.
From the time of the first European expedition in 1858, Tien-tsin has
been the scene of much fighting and many desperate battles. During the
last rebellion the disturbances were greater there than anywhere else,
and it was there also that the Boxers, in the beginning of June, 1900,
set fire to the Foreign Mission settlements. At first no one seemed to
realize the imminence of the danger, and it was not until the second
half of the same month, after the bombardment of Taku, that hostilities,
attended with all the horrors of war, were seriously commenced. The
attack on the European colony, the blockade of the barracks, the
destruction of the railway station, and the massacre of the missionaries
and Christians, followed each other rapidly. Eye-witnesses have given us
graphic descriptions of the atrocities committed during the
insurrection. The bravery of the troops, the missionaries, the Christian
women, and the children, has excited the admiration of the world. Many
ruins still testify to this prolonged siege.
The chief event of my stay in this place was my visit to the Viceregal
Palace. If Li Hung-Chang had been a great statesman, his successor was
not unworthy of him. Yuan-tsi-Khai and Chan-chi-Tung are the two most
prominent men of modern China. Nature has endowed them very differently,
but they are alike zealous in their endeavours to rouse China from its
apathy. Although the ways and means by which they hope to effect their
object are different, the end in view is the same. Chan-chi-Tung is a
peace-loving man, an ardent follower of the doctrine of Confucius, and
strongly attached to the national principles of morality. He favours
reform in undertakings of a purely commercial and industrial nature, in
financial transactions; but in intellectual and spiritual questions he
is very conservative. In his own province he has made successful
attempts at improvement. He has established factories, cotton mills and
looms, forges, local railways, and an important arsenal on the
Yangtse-kiang.
His adversaries--and he has many, like every one who rises above the
common level--accuse him of being an idealist. But in most cases his
ideas, practically carried out, have proved to be of very real benefit
to his country. He is a deep thinker and a most pleasant and interesting
companion. His writings on various political and social questions are
fine specimens of human philosophy.
Yuan-tsi-Khai is, on the contrary, before all a man of action, a soldier
at heart. He loves to fight his enemies and to press forward without
considering the difficulties in the way.
My sojourn at Tien-tsin was of special service to me in obtaining
clearer ideas as to the actual conditions of China. I made the
acquaintance of many interesting persons, some of whom are the makers of
the history of our time. They were not all of the same nationality, nor
did they all pursue the same vocation, nor were they all of the same
mind; their opinions also were widely different. But it is to a certain
extent owing to the antagonism of their views that I was enabled to form
some provisional conclusions.