are a little higher and the barracks have additional wings, but they
remain isolated as before.
It is always a difficult task to throw up defensive works within a
city--even the value of the most efficient is questionable; but, if
these precautionary measures were absolutely needful, it would certainly
have been better to enclose the entire European quarter with a stronger
common wall, as is the case with the Imperial city. This would have
made it possible for the garrisons of the legations to defend any point
attacked conjointly. And it would have had the further advantage that a
really pretty, shady town would have been built in the Anglo-Indian
style, amongst earthworks planted with trees, instead of a number of
insanitary separate walled prisons.
Or would it not have been better to build the European town outside the
city gate, between the canal and the railway, where the movement of
Pekin is least felt? Neither money nor concessions were wanting, and,
both for hygienic and strategical reasons, it would have been far
better. The air is purer there, and, in the event of danger, the chances
of escape or of obtaining assistance from without are far greater.
The present European quarter in Pekin reminds one of a town which has
been rebuilt, after violent earthquakes, on the same spot and in the
same way, on that most unsubstantial foundation--chance.
IV
THE TARTAR CITY
The outward appearance of the city, with the exception of the European
quarter, is the same as of yore. The ground plan of Pekin is very
regular, and is formed of two squares, one the Tartar, the other the
Chinese town, each surrounded by a separate wall, with a total number
of thirteen gates, with gigantic double-roofed towers.
The centre is occupied by the Imperial city, within which is the Purple
or Forbidden City, and inside this we come at last to the Emperor's
palaces, private mansions, villas, tea-houses, and temples. The Imperial
Palace is itself intersected by gardens, lakes, and streams, and looks
more like a city than a palace, nay, like a miniature picture of this
whole-walled country.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE FORBIDDEN CITY "The centre of this
marvellous maze is the Emperor's sanctuary" To face page 158]
From the large gate a broad street leads through the Imperial and Tartar
towns to the great Southern Gate, one of the strangest thoroughfares in
the world. The innermost wall is set in a square of broad moats. Four
arched marble bridges lead to the four gates. The jagged wall, the
pagoda-like towers of the bastions, the arches of the bridges, all are
decorated with finely carved dragons, as rigidly prescribed by law.
Walls, moats, towers, and palaces, are repeated in all parts of the
gigantic palace; the walls of all buildings being painted red. The shape
of the yellow-tiled roofs is that of booths. Everything is planned in
accordance with traditions thousands of years old. The threshold must
not be larger than that which Confucius crossed, nor must the door be
wider than the length of the great teacher's arms.
Every detail of the dwelling, to the minutest ornament, has some
symbolic or mythical significance; for instance, at the entrance one
never fails to find the wall which tradition demands to protect the
peaceful inhabitants from evil spirits, while the ceiling of the house
must not be higher than any of the goblins would care to ascend.
In the same way the trimming or embroidery of the dress of an official
or courtier has its particular meaning. This likewise applies to private
individuals, and the innermost chambers of their homes, simply because
it is required by law.
It is this rigid system that makes China appear so uniform, at any rate
outwardly. This same system, too, gives her her great interest from a
psychological point of view.
There is hardly any nation or people, throughout the whole history of
civilization, whose life has been so profoundly and lastingly influenced
by doctrine as the population of the Yellow Empire has been by the
teachings of Confucius. From the celestial altar (representing the
centre of the universe), where only the Son of Heaven may worship his
Father, down to each separate temple, yamen, and stone of sacrifice,
everything expresses one and the same ethical idea. It is this gigantic
moral system, with its organic life penetrating to the minutest detail,
that keeps China strong, even in her present decadence, and makes
Pekin, even amidst its ruins, one of the greatest cities on earth. It
is the plan, or let us say conception, which makes us wonder. The
metaphysical qualities of this people fascinate us; their ancient
traditions are still their strongholds, and their old systems, however
degenerate, the source of moral strength. But I hope to deal more fully
elsewhere with the psychological side of China. At present I only want
to give a hasty sketch of its capital.
One can scarcely imagine a more systematically laid out city than Pekin.
The throne is in the centre; thence radiates every street, thither leads
every road. It is the focus of the city, the heart of the empire,
but--forbidden ground. The man who sets foot therein forfeits his life,
so sacred and inviolable is it. Within the second wall the Imperial
Family and the Court reside, precious stones set in gold, as the bards
say.
Next comes the so-called Imperial city. The extensive Lotus Lake, the
long marble bridge, the Maisan hill, the summer residence of the Dowager
Empress, are all contained in that vast area--a number of little towns
whose wonders would take whole chapters to describe. Each of them has
its own mysterious history.
There was a time when, among the clusters of the lotus, more blood
flowed than water. Upon one of the islets stands a summer-house, a very
homely building, looking as though its only purpose must be to shelter
happiness; but fate made a most gloomy prison of it. There the young
Emperor was confined, in anguish, like a criminal, and never knowing
whether the morrow would find him alive or lying at the bottom of the
lake.
Poor young Emperor! Though he has regained his liberty--if leaving the
island for the palace walls can be called freedom--his mind is wrapped
in darkness. His youthful dream of making his people happy has vanished
for ever. His lofty ideals have crumbled to dust, and of his early
counsellors, some are in exile, others in the eternal silence.
The new town residence of the Empress is along the south-eastern wall,
and there are other houses enclosed in gardens, all exhibiting the same
architectural uniformity--red walls and yellow roofs. The only
decoration is the marble staircase with carved dragons. In the adjacent
gardens are the quarters of the household staff, and close by the old
Foreign Mission and the cathedral. The Mission exchanged those quarters
for a fine site farther off, where it is now established.
The _Maisan_ (meaning "mount of coal") is an artificial hill in front of
the principal Northern Gate. Its five peaks are adorned with fine
summer residences of unequalled beauty, and roofed with enamelled tiles,
displaying a number of the porcelain towers so familiar to us from our
school-books.
Many versions have come down to posterity as to the origin of the
_Maisan_, but I am inclined to think that originally it was erected for
the same purpose as the walls round the gates--that of protection
against evil spirits. My assumption is rather confirmed by the fact that
in the grove extending along the side of the hill stands the great
death-chamber, a hall supported on colossal pillars, wherein is
deposited the coffin of a deceased Emperor. The funeral procession
passes through the large Northern Gate in front of the graves of the
Emperors. In China, where everything has a meaning, it would be
fallacious to assume that the _Maisan_ did not symbolize something, and
the uncertainty and mystery only enhance the beauty of the evergreen
groves of the place. It is like the Roman Testaccian Hill in this
respect, the only interesting feature of whose barrenness lies in its
mysterious origin.
[Illustration: TRIUMPHAL ARCH "The Maisan is an artificial wall in front
of the principal Northern Gate" To face page 162]
The fourth wall is that of the Tartar city, which is almost square, and
has altogether ten gates--three to the north, three to the south, two to
the east, and two to the west. The wall is about seventeen miles long
and fifty feet high, and so wide that a dozen soldiers abreast can ride
on it comfortably. At its four corners are four three-storeyed
bastions with double-gabled, green-tiled roofs. Over the gates are
towers with similar roofs, and everywhere the same Imperial emblems, the
same dragons and ornamentation. Everything bears the stamp of
uniformity, embodying one canon of taste and one idea.
One can hardly imagine a grander and more sombre structure than the
symmetrical, harmonious walls of Pekin, and the more we see of them the
more we are charmed.
The wall of the Chinese town was added to that of the Tartar city to
form a parallelogram; it is similar to the former, though somewhat more
modest. To the north the three gates of the Tartar city serve as
entrance, while on its eastern and western sides are two gates
respectively, and to the south is the principal entrance to Pekin. Then
come the moats and ditches and the ubiquitous bridges. So any one
desiring to approach the throne must pass altogether through five
cities, seven gates, and five bridges, and in the Imperial city one must
walk through five halls and five courts ere the throne itself is
reached.
The conception of all this is as grand as it is masterly. Nowhere is the
idea of majesty enhanced so infinitely, and nowhere is power adorned to
such an extent as in China. The Winter Palace and Windsor Castle are
merely private dwellings, and even Versailles loses much of its
grandeur when compared to the Imperial Palace in Pekin.
It is only a few months since the Court returned from its protracted
exile to the deserted palaces; and what a brilliant and magnificent
spectacle that grand procession afforded on the long route through five
cities and so many gates and bridges! although the uniforms of the
soldiers must have looked rather shabby and the coats of the mandarins
somewhat worn. The pageant must have been one of the most striking ever
seen.
V
THE CHINESE CITY
The skill of the mechanics and industry of the Chinese artisans are
proverbial, and it is a never-ending source of interest to watch them,
or to study the commercial spirit of the people. I have lately seen a
good deal of the commercial life of Pekin, though I am more familiar
with that of Niu-chwang. The long rows of caravans, coming from the
western frontier and Tibet, and laden with merchandise peculiar to those
regions, are characteristic of the former.
The centre of trade is in the Chinese city; but how can I convey an idea
of this to those who do not know this people and this part of the
world? What a blending of colours! what noise and dust! what an infinity
of light and shade! what a wonderful mosaic! Who could ever grasp the
total effect in all its splendour? Who could ever understand it in all
its mystery?
Every detail is so novel, and everything I see comes as a surprise.
During my prolonged stay I go out every afternoon on some extended walk
of exploration, and the greatest charm of my wanderings is that I come
across famous monuments when I least expect them. I divide the city into
different portions, and each day I visit another quincunx. My task is
the easier owing to the fact that the town is built on a chess-board
plan, like a military encampment. Strictly speaking, it is composed of
several towns, each having its own distinct characteristics and purpose,
and each a peculiar architecture, while each is inhabited by a different
caste. The so-called Tartar city is the home of all the Manchus, who
followed the present dynasty from their native land. They are mostly
public officials, or enrolled in the Imperial army.
The Inner, or Imperial city, is reserved for mandarins and higher Court
dignitaries, and encloses the more restricted area with the three
consecutive cities--the Purple, Forbidden, and Sacred. One part of the
Purple City is entirely reserved for the Empress Dowager, and the other
part contains the abodes of the Court and their guardians. The centre
of this marvellous maze is the Emperor's sanctuary.
On the southern side of the Tartar city extends the Chinese city, set
apart entirely for commercial purposes, where all the Chinese live,
whence its name. All the famous shops are there, and there a bustling
trade is carried on from morning till night.
"Are the Pekin sights worth seeing?" is the universal question of new
arrivals. It would be easier to give an answer if one were asked, "What
is _not_ worth seeing, and what can be omitted in Pekin?" Among my many
excursions there was not one devoid of some striking discovery--a fine
building, unknown spot, or quaint scene; and even when I did not come
across any regular sight, I was always surrounded by a world full of
interest, a world by itself.
If I were to give my opinion, I should advise the foreigner, before
everything, to examine this quaint world which surrounds him, and to
seek to understand its exuberant life; and it would be a great advantage
to visit the different parts of the city at different hours of the day,
to watch the sun rise from the city walls when the town seems to awake
with the sudden burst of light, and to pass the morning hours in the
narrow lanes, overcrowded with shops; at midday to pay visits to the
official yamens and to local grandees, or to drive in the afternoon to
one of the temples, or make an excursion to the neighbouring shrines and
watch the sun set from the eastern hills, or the top of the famous
pagodas, lost amidst the country.
From an artistic standpoint there are a great many gems to be found,
while so far as nature is concerned, the surrounding hills are
unsurpassed in their scenery.
The Imperial deer-park is very fine too, and in its quiet melancholy
offers a charming haunt for solitary rides. Another place for an outing
is the famous Princesses' Tombs, which are worth while visiting in every
respect. And there is the charming old Portuguese cemetery, with its sad
graves of the first Christians, who played such a leading part at the
Emperor's Court in the seventeenth century. The inscriptions on the
monuments and white marble crosses are so many records of the first
missionaries' work. And farther on is one of Pekin's architectural
marvels, the well-known so-called Thirteen-storeyed Pagoda. Its walls
are richly carved with uncanny figures, and it is covered with an
indescribable roof, looking like thirteen umbrellas put one on top of
the other.
There are, moreover, the two Summer Palaces, one of rich French rococo,
but now lying in ruins, and the other, which still serves as a summer
abode, occupying a vast area, scattered over with many kiosks,
tea-houses, and yamens, laid out with marvellous gardens, artificial
fishponds, and marble bridges. Unluckily, entrance to it is strictly
forbidden, and a trespasser would be punished by decapitation. Until
quite recently permission was never accorded to a foreigner to penetrate
this forbidden paradise. Now on certain occasions the diplomatic body is
received within, and at such a function I was an invited guest; but as I
have endeavoured, in another chapter, to give a description, however
inadequately, of this wonderland of china pagodas, hanging gardens
belonging to the modern Semiramis, and forests planted with miniature
orchards and pines, I will not enlarge upon them here. It would indeed
be impossible to depict in words what can only be realized by sight. I
can only hope that others may have the same privilege.
I would give the same advice with regard to the Imperial Palace in
Pekin, which, after all, is the greatest wonder of this wondrous city.
While rambling in Pekin, no one should omit to explore the main
thoroughfares of both cities, to visit the side lanes, nor to stop
before the great Chinese Gate, or Ta-chin-men, and look straight down
and enjoy the marvellous panorama of the Ch'ien-men, or Great Street.
Sitting on the marble balustrade of the Ch'ien-men San-tau Bridge, one
could spend hours in watching the extraordinary scene. The whole
population of this gigantic city seems to assemble here at certain
hours of the day. Rich mandarins on horses with elaborate trappings and
humble coolies, princes coming from Mongolia, carried in splendid
litters, are stopped by the half-naked members of the celebrated
Beggars' Guild. There are shops on both sides and booths in front of
each shop, displaying more modest wares; and besides this double row of
shops, there is a third row of goods for sale; but this department
consists merely of mats or sheets of paper spread out in the gutter,
where ragamuffins offer the treasure-trove of the preceding night.
Behind the Ch'ien-men Street is a maze of alleys, packed with warehouses
and richly carved fronts, which form the most marvellous bazaar ever
seen. And the effect of this fairyland built of cardboard and tinsel is
enhanced by the sun coming through the open spaces in the awnings in
shafts of light. Indeed, I would strongly recommend every one to take
his first reconnoitring walk through the Ch'ien-men quarter.
As for sights and architectural treasures, there is such an amazing
number of them that it is necessary to employ a little discrimination
and to put aside the ambition of the average sightseer, which is to say,
"I did them all."
Among the temples, the Hall of the Classics, or Pi-yung-kung, also
called the Temple of Confucius, which contains the complete text of the
nine King or Classical Books, the foundation of ancient Chinese
literature, is one of the most remarkable. There are several interesting
buildings in its shady grounds, and the entrance arch, covered with
beautiful yellow porcelain, is a triumph of Chinese art. Kwo-tsze-chien
is another fine pile, and its foundation dates from the time of the Yuan
dynasty, which reigned in the thirteenth century. The main hall contains
a most interesting wooden tablet, with a characteristic inscription as
follows: "The tablet to the soul of the most holy ancestral teacher,
Confucius."
The best known and most often described temple is that of the famous
Lama monastery, which is a town in itself, composed of many buildings
and still owning many art treasures, some very good pieces of cloisonne,
and excellent jade work. At certain hours of the day the monks have
services with wonderful ritual, and a procession of the Great Lama, clad
in royal purple and saffron-yellow, followed by his silk-draped staff,
wearing helmets and crests bristling with feathers. It is a spectacle of
unquestionable novelty to a European.
Outside the wall one must not omit a visit to Hwang-ssu, where, in the
centre court, stands a white marble monument, erected by the Emperor
Kien-lung to the memory of the Teshoo Lama, who was the uncle of the one
in Lhassa, the Dalai Lama, and who, during a visit to the Imperial
city, where he was the guest of the Emperor himself, died suddenly, as
the inscription says, of malignant smallpox. Not less famous is the
Ta-chung-ssu, or Temple of the Great Bell. It was built in the sixteenth
century, and contains the largest bell in the empire, which a century
and a half before was cast by order of Yung-Lo.
But among all the temples, as its name indicates, the finest is the
so-called Temple of Heaven, where only the Emperor has the right to
offer sacrifice. It stands in a grove, occupying over a square mile, in
the south-eastern quarter of the Chinese city, and although it consists
of but a few buildings only, each is one of the marvels of the East.
The main hall is a rotunda, a kind of pagoda built on top of a platform,
which, with its balustrade and the flight of steps skirting it all
round, are of finely carved marble. The colonnade, supporting the
umbrella-like roof, is of purple lacquered timber, the tiles being of
blue porcelain; and I think it is the only building which is permitted
to be covered with the colour of the sky. From this unique shrine,
across the grass and through the grove, leads a marble pathway to the
Imperial altar.
This altar, if so it can be called, is really another platform like the
previous one from which we came, but it is even more imposing, higher,
and surrounded by more elaborate stairs and finer balustrades. It has no
shrine and no pagoda on the top of it; its colonnade is formed by the
cedars and cypresses of the grove which surround it, and the dome of
this spotless white marble pedestal is the cloudless blue sky.
[Illustration: THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN "The main hall is a rotunda" To face
page 172]
It would be vain to try to make the beauty of this spot comprehensible.
Besides, my aim is not to trespass on the domain of a guide-book, which
very likely would give a whole chapter to this place, and even so, I am
afraid, would never succeed in conveying the poetic impression of the
unique shrine.
I must, however, mention a few other places of interest. The Temple of
the Earth, for instance, which is also very extensive, has some very
fine buildings, a delightful old sundial, and an emblematic well. In an
open space there is a field of rice, the symbol of fertility, where the
Emperor ploughs the first furrow of the year.
Of course, the two huge towers which look down upon us at a distance
through all our wanderings should not be omitted either. One is the
Tower of the Gong or Bell, and the other that of the Drum. They are, in
fact, two belfries, for announcing all good or evil news to the
citizens.
I would also recommend everybody to go where the two Gothic spires lift
their graceful forms towards heaven, and to pass an afternoon at the
Mission of Pei-tang, where they will meet with an excellent reception
and be offered sincere hospitality. They may still see traces of the
Boxer vandalism, ruins and shells piled up in pyramids, a small cemetery
where all the martyrs are buried--soldiers and priests, starving
children and helpless women--and a small commemorative chapel. It will
unquestionably please them to see that most of the ruins have been
restored, and that the extensive orphanage houses several hundred
children. Pei-tang is a centre, not only of faith but of work, and the
children go through hard training schools before they are able to earn
their daily bread. The boys as a rule become artisans or tradesmen, and
those who show greater aptitude become silversmiths, or cloisonne
makers. Those who like study can enter the adjoining grammar school or
the seminary. Needlework is the main occupation of the little girls, who
make beautiful lace and fine embroideries, and their products find an
easy market in the European or Legation quarter.
Pei-tang is certainly worth visiting, and most edifying, and not only
co-religionists will find satisfaction in all they see, but any one
interested in history, art, education, charitable work, and civilization
in general, will gather useful information and find valuable documents.
As for the evenings in Pekin, even the best guide-book will fail to give
advice. At sunset everything is closed and everybody retires; the city
gates are barred, and traffic is stopped. Even the famous theatres are
deserted, and the plays, which begin early in the morning, must finish
at dusk. During the night Pekin is wrapped in silence and darkness. It
is only in the European quarter that lights are to be perceived, and
loud talk, hoarse laughter, or a hackneyed chorus, issues from a newly
opened bar--sad recreation ground for the Allied Troops, giving the
Chinese but a sorry example of the European idea of amusement.