long ago hit upon an application of the share principle, by means of which
wedding and funeral feasts become quite practicable, which would otherwise
remain an utter impossibility. It can seldom be known with certainty how
many guests will attend a wedding, or funeral, but the provision must be
made upon the basis of the largest number likely to appear. Each guest, or
rather each family, is not only expected, but by a rigid code of social
etiquette required, as already mentioned, to contribute to the expenses of
the occasion by a "share." This will sometimes be in food, but the general
practice is to bring money, according to a scale which is perfectly
understood by every one. The amount varies greatly in different places,
from a trifling sum of the value of about five or six cents up to a
quarter of a dollar or more, according to the degree of intimacy between
the persons, and the ability of the guests to contribute. In some parts of
China, the ordinary amount taken to such a feast seems to be twice as
great as in others. Sometimes the standard is so well understood, that the
phrase "a share" has a local meaning as definite as if, for example, the
sum of 250 cash were expressly named.
In some places while the rate of "a share" for a funeral is 250 cash, that
for a wedding is just double. This is because the food at a funeral is
"plain" (_su_), while that for the wedding is of meat (_hun_) and much
more expensive. It is not uncommon to find that "a share" for a person who
comes from another city or district is two or three times that of a native
of the place where the feast is given. To give only the same as a native
would do would be considered for the person from a distance as a loss of
"face"!
It is a characteristic example of Chinese procedure that the sums
contributed upon occasions of this sort are in reality seldom what they
profess to be. If local custom considers ninety-eight or ninety-six cash
as a hundred, the temptation to put in a less number as a contribution is
generally too strong to be resisted; the more so as in the confusion of
receiving the numerous amounts, it is generally difficult to tell which
particular string of cash was sent in by which persons, although the
amounts are all entered in an "account," to be presently noticed.
Those householders who are very anxious to keep exact track of the
relative honesty of the respective contributors, sometimes do so by having
ready a long cord to which each successive sum of cash is tied by its
string, after the sum is entered on the account. When the proceedings are
ended, it will then be possible for the master of the house to go over the
multitudinous strings of cash, ascertaining how much each one is short,
and tracing it to its donor by its place on the cord, corresponding to the
order of entry in the account-book. But this plan is not regarded with
favour by the guests, and is not generally adopted, because it makes so
much trouble. The advantage of it is that it enables the householder to
pay off the debt to the family which gave short cash, at exactly the same
rate, whenever they invite him to a wedding or a funeral. In some places
it is well understood that though each guest contributes "a share" of 250
cash, it will take five "shares" to make 1,000, since every "hundred cash"
is in reality only eighty.
It is the duty of the committee which looks after the finances, to take
charge of all sums which may be brought by the guests, and to keep a
record of the amount paid by each. This is a matter of great importance,
as every such contribution occupies the double position of a repayment of
some similar gift to the family of the giver, by the family which now
receives the gift, and also of a precursor of similar return gifts in time
to come. The amount which is sent by each person will depend upon the
relations existing between the families, and especially upon the amount
received by them on some former similar occasion. To disregard the
unwritten code which demands from guests proportional contributions, is
regarded as a grave offence against decorum, because of its serious
consequences to the family concerned, in diminishing their receipts.
To attend a feast, but not to bring any contribution, either in money or
in kind, seems to be practically unknown, though it constantly happens
that the quantity of food which on certain occasions may be substituted
for money, is less than half of what is eaten by the donor. This is
especially the case when the giver is a woman, who, as already mentioned,
is likely to bring one or more voracious children, who must be pacified by
food at every stage of the performances, their capacities being apparently
absolutely unlimited.
In cities and large towns, the business of managing a wedding or a funeral
feast, is conducted much as it would be in any country of the West. A food
shop contracts to deliver so many bowls of food of a definite quality and
at a fixed price. Provision is also made for additional supplies should
the number of guests be unexpectedly great. But if the feast is to be on a
large scale, it is not unlikely that the cooking will be done on the
premises by the professional caterers. It is usual to speak of an affair
of this sort as embracing so many "feasts," a "feast" denoting not a
single individual, as might be supposed, but the number who can sit at one
table. This number, like everything Chinese, varies in different places.
Sometimes it is eight, and the phrase, "eight fairy table" is the common
designation of the articles of furniture required for the purpose.
In other regions, while all the tables are of the same size and shape as
these, one side is left open for convenience in passing the food, and a
"feast" signifies six persons only. When the feasts are provided by
contract, the establishment also furnishes waiters, who convey the food to
the guests, and to these waiters a small gratuity is given at the close.
The number of families who are within reach of facilities such as these,
is but a small proportion of those who are obliged to arrange for feasts
at weddings and funerals. For those to whom no such resource is open,
there is no other way but to put the matter into the hands of certain
experts, of great experience in such matters--a class of persons to be
found everywhere. Every village or group of villages can furnish a
professional cook, who devotes much of his time to the conduct of affairs
of this sort. If he is a man of wide reputation, and employed by rich
families, he will have a number of assistants who work under his
direction, all of whom at the close of the feast will be rewarded with
suitable gratuities.
The staff of persons into whose hands the business of arranging for a
feast is committed, is divided into three departments or committees, the
Stewards (_chih fang_), the Culinary Department (_ch'u-fang_), and Finance
Department (_chang-fang_). Each of them is a check upon the other two,
although in the smaller and less expensive affairs all three will
naturally run together and be merged in a single head. The Stewards
purchase such supplies as are supposed to be necessary, embracing the best
which the local market affords.
In the northern part of China, the two items which prove the most
expensive are wheaten bread-cakes (_man-t'ou_) and wine. If the
accommodation of the dwelling admit of it, the articles which have been
bought for the feast are placed in a separate apartment, under the
exclusive charge of one of the stewards, by whose order alone can anything
be paid out to the kitchen, on demand of the head cook. But in practice it
is found that at this point there is always a serious leak, for many of
the relatives and neighbours of the family which is to have the feast,
will send over their children to the storeroom to "borrow" a few
bread-cakes, or a few cups of wine. For a steward to refuse (as a
foreigner would be likely to do), is to incur the ill-will of the family
which wishes to "borrow," and the only advantage to the steward would be
that he would be reviled, which no Chinese relishes. As a matter of
practice therefore, it is customary to "give to him that asketh," and from
him that would "borrow" not to turn away, even though, as the old English
saying runs, "Broad thongs are cut out of other people's leather."
It not infrequently happens that the stewards who are in charge of the
entertainment are smokers of opium, in which case the expenses are sure to
be much heavier than otherwise. It has also come to be a custom in some
regions, to furnish opium to the guests at weddings, and this may become
an item of a very elastic nature. Besides this, a man who smokes opium is
naturally incapacitated from taking even ordinary care of the stores under
his charge. If he is himself a smoker, and if opium is one of the articles
provided for the occasion, it will not be strange if all his opium-smoking
comrades embrace the opportunity to visit him, when they must be invited
to take a pipe--of course at the expense of the master of ceremonies.
The disappearance of wine and bread-cakes, on occasions of this sort, even
before a single bowl of food has been set before a guest, suggests the
evaporation of water on a hot summer day. It was reported to the writer,
that on the occasion of a funeral in a neighbour's family, about sixty
catties of wine vanished, without leaving behind any trace of its devious
course.
The reason for such occurrences, which are of universal notoriety, is not
that the stewards are not able to do that which they are set to do, nor is
the explanation necessarily to be found in their indifference to the
interests of the host. The real seat of the difficulty is, that every
family sufficiently well-to-do to have a large feast is surrounded with a
swarm of poor relatives, who have no other opportunities than these to
make their connection of any service to themselves, and who on such
occasions are determined not to be ignored. A poor family of the same
surname as the host will stand at the door of the mansion where a great
feast is in preparation, with bowls in hand, demanding that a share of the
good things in course of being served shall be apportioned to them. Even
if the master of the house should absolutely refuse his consent, and if
the stewards should follow his directions and give nothing, it would be of
no avail, for the poor family would raise such an uproar as practically to
prevent further proceedings, and all the guests would take the part of the
poor relatives, exhorting the host to give them what they asked.
The habit of levying tribute upon those who happen to be in a position to
pay it, is, as already remarked, deeply rooted in Chinese life. To what
this practice leads, may be seen in the extreme cases of which one now and
then hears, such as the following, detailed to the writer by the principal
sufferer. A man had a dispute with one of his uncles about a tree, the
value of which did not amount to more than a dollar. As he was a person
without force of character, and unable to get his rights, he was obliged
to "eat loss." This enraged his wife to such an extent that she hung
herself. It was now open to her husband to bring a suit at law, accusing
the other party of "harrying to death" (_pi ssA-_) the deceased wife.
Perhaps this would have been the best plan for the injured husband, but
"peace-talkers" persuaded him to compromise the matter for a money
payment. The other party had a powerful advocate in a relative who was a
notorious blackleg, expert in lawsuits, and who freely gave his advice.
Even under these advantages, the middlemen into whose hands the matter was
put, decided that the uncle should pay 30,000 cash to the family of the
woman, as a contribution to the funeral, which was done.
It is not usual to make much parade over the funerals of suicides, unless
the sum to be expended is exacted from those who are supposed to have
impelled to the suicide. In this instance, half the amount paid would have
been amply sufficient for the funeral and for all its expenses. The
"family friends" of the husband, uncles, cousins, nephews, etc., took
charge of the proceedings, which they contrived to drag out for more than
a week, and when the funeral was over, the husband, whose crops had been
that year totally destroyed by floods, ascertained that these "family
friends" had not only made away with the 30,000 cash awarded as a fine,
but that he was saddled with a debt of immediate urgency amounting to
20,000 more for bread-cakes and wine, which had been consumed (as alleged)
by the "family friends" during the protracted negotiations. No clear
accounts of the expenditure were to be had, and the only thing of which
the poor husband was sure, was that he was practically ruined by his
"family friends."
It is always taken for granted by the Chinese, that any family rich enough
to spend a large amount of money on the funeral of a parent, will be
mercilessly pillaged on that particular occasion. The reason for this is
that, at such a time, the master of the house is (theoretically) overcome
by grief, and ordinary propriety requires that he himself should take no
part in the management of affairs, but should give his exclusive attention
to the mourning rites. Even though he clearly perceives that everything is
going wrong, he must act as if he were blind and deaf, and also dumb. Long
practice has made the Chinese very expert in such an accomplishment,
which, it is needless to say, for an Occidental would be difficult, not to
say impossible. If the householder is a man for any reason generally
unpopular, his disadvantages will be greatly increased, as is illustrated
by the following case, narrated to the writer by a man who lived within
two miles of the village in which the event occurred.
A wealthy man lost his father, and made preparations for an expensive
funeral. He took a hundred strings of cash in a large farm-cart, and went
to a market to buy swine to be slaughtered for the feast. On the way he
was waylaid _by a party of his own relatives_, and robbed of all the
money, in such a way as to render recovery of it hopeless. Having
afterward bought four swine and an ox (a most generous provision for the
feast), the arrangements were put into the hands of managers (_tsung-li_)
as usual. These persons found themselves wholly unable to restrain the
raids made upon the stores by "friends," neighbours and others, and the
night before the funeral was to occur, thieves broke into the storeroom
and carried off every scrap of meat, leaving nothing whatever for the
feast. The managers were frightened and ran away. The feast was of
necessity had with nothing but vegetables and was of a sort to bring the
householder into disgrace. As a result he was afraid to try to have any
more funerals, and there are at present on his premises two unburied
coffins awaiting sepulture, perhaps by the next generation.
As soon as the "shares" have all been sent in and reckoned up, it is known
how much the host is out of pocket by the affair, and this information is
so far from being private that it is sometimes at once announced to the
guests, and if the amount is a large one the host gets credit for doing
business on an extensive scale, regardless of expense. This gives him a
certain amount of honour among his neighbours, and honour of a kind which
is particularly prized. Among poor families, where "face" is of much less
consequence than cash, it is not uncommon to find the feasts on a scale of
such extreme economy that the cost is very trifling, although the "shares"
are as great as at much better entertainments. It occasionally happens
that a family is able to reduce the expenses so that the contributions are
large enough to cover them, and even to leave a margin. A man who has
carried through an enterprise of this sort is regarded as worthy of a
certain admiration; and not without reason, for the feat implies
generalship of no mean order.
Another illustration of the application of coA¶perative principles is found
in the organization of the men of a village into details, or reliefs, as
bearers of the catafalque of a specified size, each having its own leader.
Whenever a funeral is to take place, notice is sent to the head of the
division whose turn it is to serve, and he calls upon the men of his
detail in a regular order. If any one is not on hand to take his turn, he
is subjected to a fine.
In country districts, the funeral catafalque, with its tremendous array of
lacquered poles upon which it is borne, is often the property of a certain
number of individuals, who are also ordinary farmers. On being summoned to
take charge of a funeral, they often perform the service gratuitously for
people living in their own village, but charging a definite sum for the
rent of the materials, which sometimes represent a considerable capital.
Wedding chairs are often owned and managed in the same way, of which the
advantage is that an investment which it is so desirable for the community
to have made, and which is too large for an individual, is made by a
company, the members of which receive a small dividend on its cash outlay,
and an acknowledgment in food, presents, etc., of the manual labour
involved in serving those who invite their aid.
The principle is capable of indefinite expansion. The writer once lived in
a Chinese village, where there was a "Bowl Association," owning 100 or 200
bowls which were rented to those who had occasion for a feast, at such a
rate as to be remunerative to the owners, and at the same time more
economical to the householder than the purchase of a great number of
dishes for which on ordinary occasions he would have no use.
[Illustration: A BRIDAL PAIR.]
[Illustration: TEMPORARY FUNERAL PAVILION.]
Societies for the assistance of those who have funerals are of common
occurrence, and are of many different kinds. There is special reason for
the organization of such leagues (called _pai-shAȘ_), since, while weddings
may be postponed until suitable arrangements can be made, it is generally
difficult, and sometimes impossible, to do the same with a funeral.
Sometimes each family belonging to the league pays into the common fund a
monthly subscription of 100 cash a month. Each family so contributing is
entitled upon occasion of the death of an adult member of the family (or
perhaps the older generation only) to draw from this fund, say, 6,000
cash, to be used in defraying the expenses. If there is not so much money
in the treasury as is called for by deaths in families of the members, the
deficiency is made up by special taxes upon each member. According to a
plan of this sort, a subscriber who drew out nothing for five years would
have contributed the full amount to which he is entitled, without
receiving anything in return. A mutual insurance company of this nature is
probably entered into on account of the serious difficulty which most
Chinese families experience in getting together ready money. From a
financial point of view there may be nothing saved by the contribution,
but practically it is found to be easier to raise 100 cash every month,
than to get together 6,000 cash at any one time.
Another form of mutual assistance in the expenses of funerals is the
following: A man whose parents are well advanced in life knows that he may
at any time be called upon to spend upon the ceremonies at their death an
amount which it will be difficult to raise. He therefore "invites an
association" (_ch'ing hui_), each member of which is under obligation upon
occasion of the death of a parent to contribute a fixed sum, say 2,000
_cash_. The membership will thus be composed exclusively of those who have
aged parents. The number of names may be forty, which would result,
whenever a call shall be made, in the accumulation of 80,000 cash. With
this sum a showy funeral can be paid for. It is customary to provide in
the document which each signs, and which is deposited with the organizer
of the association, that the funeral shall be conducted on a specified
scale of expense, nor can the funds be diverted to any other use than for
a funeral.
Whenever a member wishes for his own use to make a call for the quota from
each member, he must previously find two bondsmen, who will be surety for
him that he will continue to pay his share on demand, otherwise the other
subscribers might be left in the lurch. Only those known to be able to
meet their assessments would be likely to be invited to join such an
association, and if for any reason a member should fail to furnish his
quota, he would be heavily fined.
At each funeral, all the subscribers to the funeral fund are present _ex
officio_, and it is not necessary for them to contribute any other share
than that represented by the 2,000 cash of the assessment. Each member of
the association appears in mourning costume, and wailing as would become a
near relative of the deceased. The presence of so large a number of
mourners in addition to those really near of kin, gives a great deal of
"face" to the individual whose parent has died, and this is perhaps quite
as attractive a feature of the arrangement as the financial assistance.
If it should happen that for a long time no one dies in the families of
any subscribers to the funeral fund, it may be thought best to summon the
members to a feast, at which the project is broached of making a call for
a share to be used for a wedding, or some other purpose outside of the
constitutional limits of the society. In any arrangement of this nature
the feast is an indispensable concomitant of the proceedings. Without it
nothing can begin, and without it nothing can end.
Associations of this nature are much more common in connection with
funerals than with weddings, yet they are not unknown for the latter
purpose. A family, for example, wishes to marry a son on a scale which the
family resources will not warrant. It then resorts to an expedient, which
is called "drawing friends by means of other friends." Let us suppose that
it is desired to raise the sum of 100,000 cash. A hundred cards of
invitation are prepared, ten of which are sent to ten friends of the
family, who are invited to a preliminary feast. These friends receive the
extra cards of invitation, and each one gives a card to nine other
"friends" of his own, who agree to attend the wedding in question, each
one bringing with him as a share a string of cash. By this means a family
with little wealth and few connections is able suddenly to blossom out at
a wedding with a hundred guests (many of whom nobody knows), and all
expenses are provided for by the liberal contribution of the "friends,"
and of the friends of the "friends."
The only motive for the act, on the part of the original "friends" is
friendship, and the gustatory joy of the wedding feast. The only motives
for the friends of the "friends," are their friendship, and the same
joyful feast. It is needless to observe that the 100,000 cash thus
suddenly raised is a _debt_, which the family receiving it must repay in
future contributions.
To a Westerner, it doubtless appears a preposterous proceeding to saddle a
family with a liability of this sort, for the mere sake of a temporary
display. But love of display is by no means confined to the Chinese,
although doubtless they are satisfied with manifestations of it which to
us are far from being attractive. It is a characteristic in the Chinese
conduct of affairs, to make heavy drafts on the future in order to satisfy
a present need. Many a family will sell all their land, and even pull down
their house, to provide for a funeral of a parent, because to bury the
deceased without a suitable display would be a loss of "face." And this
irrational procedure is executed with an air of cheerfulness and of
conscious virtue, which seems to say, "Behold me! I will do what is
becoming at any personal inconvenience whatever!"
The elaborateness of a Chinese funeral may be roughly determined in
advance by calculating the product of two factors, the age (especially the
rank of the deceased by generations) and the social rank of the family. As
soon as a death occurs the wailing begins, and at once, or possibly at
sunset, the temple of the local-god is visited to make the announcement to
him, accompanied with more wailing. Further exercises of this sort take
place on "the third day," that is in some regions the next day, which is
held to be to all intents "the third"! In case of an affair of great
ceremony there will be special performances on every seventh day (a
strange and apparently unique survival of the hebdominal division in
China) for seven times, the funeral occurring on the forty-ninth day.
During the whole of this period there is no quiet time for the distracted
family. Perhaps both Buddhist and Taoist priests are chanting their Sacred
Books in extemporized mat-shed pavilions of a tawdry splendour; for it is
often considered safest in the dim uncertainty as to the best way to reach
the regions of the blest, to take passage by both of these religious
routes. Excruciating music rends the air from morn till eve, and bombs are
detonating at frequent intervals to terrify malignant spirits, and to
delight the swarms of village boys who riot in ecstasies during the whole
procedure.
English-speaking peoples have been criticised for taking their pleasures
sadly. The Chinese, on the contrary, often contrive to get through their
mourning not without considerable enjoyment. Under no other mundane
circumstances is so much to be had to eat on such easy terms. The adage
says truly,
"When old folks die, the rest feed high."
The strain upon the exiguous resources of a single courtyard or set of
yards in preparing food simultaneously for the guests, often numbering
hundreds, is very great; yet the inevitable waiting, the crowding, the
turmoil, and discomfort are all borne without a tenth of the complaint and
resentment which a tithe of the same annoyances and provocations would
probably cause the readers of these lines. In China there is no other way
to bury the dead, and there never has been any other way. Ceremony is the
very life of the Chinese race, and on no other occasion is ceremony so
triumphantly tyrannical as at a Chinese funeral. Yet in the most showy
pageantry there is likely to be an element of unutterable shabbiness. In
city processions flags, banners, umbrellas, screens, and handsome wooden
tablets shining with lacquer and glittering with gilt are carried in great
numbers before and behind the coffin of notables, but the bearers are not
infrequently dirty, ragged beggars, straggling along without aim and
without order. Little or nothing of this is to be seen in the rural
districts, but the confusion and disorderliness are omnipresent and
inevitable. There is in the Chinese language no word meaning solemn, for
there is no such thing as solemnity in the Chinese Empire.
White being the mourning colour, at a funeral swarms of people appear,
some with a mere fillet about their head, others with square caps, and
others with a more abundant display, up to those whose near relationship
to the deceased requires that they be covered entirely with the coarse
cloth which denotes the deepest depth of mourning, their feeble steps
being supported by a short stick of willow upon which they ostentatiously
lean, particularly at the numerous junctures when wailing is to take
place. Generally speaking, the wearers of white are those who come within
the "Five Degrees of Relationship" (wu fu), that is, all directly
descended from one's grandfather's grandfather (the steps being indicated
in Chinese by separate names for each generation, to wit, _kao_, _tsAȘng_,
_tsu_, _fu_, and _shAȘn_, viz., three generations of "grandfathers," my
father, and myself). The family in mourning furnishes material for all the
cloud of mourners, but if the married daughters are provided by their
husband's family with a supply, this is a mark of special honour.
Sometimes women are seen proudly carrying a huge bolt of wholly
superfluous cloth on their arm all through a funeral, furnishing a public
testimonial that their husbands or fathers-in-law have done the correct
thing, thus giving the daughter-in-law a large supply of "face."
Since family graveyards are surrounded by planted fields, if a funeral
happens to be held in the spring or early summer, it is inevitable that by
the trampling of so many persons much damage should be done to growing
crops. A space twenty feet wide or more would be required by the bearers
of a catafalque, and if the funeral is a large one it will be followed all
the way by a dense crowd. The unhappy owners of adjacent land sometimes
provide themselves with shovels, and throw quantities of earth into the
air so as to fall on the heads of the trespassers on their grain, as a
protest (like all Chinese protests wholly futile) against the invasion of
their rights.
Angry words and reviling are not infrequent concomitants of Chinese
funerals, for the provocation is often grievous. To interfere with a
funeral is a serious offence, but disputes sometimes arise between the
participants. The writer once saw a coffin left for many days by the side
of a public road because the bearers of the two coffins that were to have
been buried together, differed as to which set should first leave the
village, the disagreement terminating in a fight and an angry lawsuit,
pending the settlement of which the dead man could not stir.
It is when the almost interminable feasts are at last over, and the loud
cry is raised, "Take up the coffin," that the funeral's climax has
arrived. Sixteen bearers, or some multiple of sixteen (and the more the
better) wrestle with the huge and unwieldy burden of the ponderous coffin
and the enormous catafalque supporting it. Only the bearers in the
immediate front can see where they are going, so that it is necessary that
a funeral director take charge of their motions, which he does by shrill
shouts in a falsetto key ending in a piercing cry by no means unlike the
scream of a catamount. To each of his directive yells the whole chorus of
bearers responds with shouts resembling those of sailors heaving an
anchor. These cries mingled with the ostentatious wails of the mourners
piled into a whole caravan of village farm-carts, combine to produce a
total effect as remote from our conception of what a funeral ought to be
as can easily be imagined. When, by a slow and toilful progress, the
family graveyard has been reached, the lowering of the coffin into the
grave--sometimes a huge circular opening--is the culminating point of the
many days of excitement. The cries of the director become shrieks, the
responses are tumultuous and discordant, every one adding his own
emendations according to his own point of view, and no one paying any
attention to any one else. Thus, amid the explosion of more crackers and
bombs, the fiercer wails of the mourners, the shouts of the bearers and
the grave-diggers, and the buzz of the curious spectators, the Chinese is
at last laid away to his long rest.
XIX
NEW YEAR IN CHINESE VILLAGES
If the foreigner who has lived in China long enough to take in its
external phenomena, but not long enough to perceive the causes of them,
were to explain to one of less knowledge his views as to the leading
features of the change from one Chinese year to another as exhibited in
the life of the Chinese, he would probably name (and with much
plausibility) one or more of the following particulars.
DUMPLINGS
The customs of different parts of the wide empire doubtless vary, but
probably there is no part of it in which either dumplings or some similar
article are not inseparably associated with New Year's Day, in the same
way as plum-pudding with an English Christmas, or roast-turkey and mince
pie with a New England Thanksgiving. As compared with Western peoples the
number of Chinese who are not obliged to practice self-denial either in
the quantity or the quality of their food, and in both, is small. The diet
of the vast mass of the nation is systematically and necessarily
abstemious. Even in the case of farmers' families who are well enough off
to afford the year round good food in abundance, we do not often see them
indulging in such luxury. Or if the males of the elder generation indulge,
the women and children of a younger generation are not allowed to do so.
Hereditary economy in the item of food is a marked Chinese trait. To "eat
good things" is a common phrase denoting the occurrence of a wedding, a
funeral, or some occasion upon which "good things" cannot be dispensed
with. To eat cakes of ordinary grain on New Year's Day, and not to get
any dumplings at all, is proverbially worse than not to have any New Year.
Moreover, the keen joy with which every member of a Chinese family looks
forward to the dietetic aspect of their New Year, the still keener joy
with which every member is absorbed in devouring all he can get of the
best there is to be got, and the scarcely less keen joy with which each
one recalls the details of the menu when the family is once more launched
upon the Sahara of ordinary fare--these are full of suggestion and
instruction to Occidentals who habitually have so much to eat that they
seldom secure the best sauce of gnawing hunger, and are more likely than
not to be bored by being asked out to an elaborate dinner with many
courses. The most robust imagination finds it impossible to conceive of a
Chinese who should take this view of what always appeals to the finest
feelings of his nature. There is therefore much reason in placing
Dumplings in the forefront of a Chinese New Year.
REUNION
No feast-day in any Western land--the two previously mentioned not
excepted--can at all compare with Chinese New Year, as regards powers of
traction and attraction. We consider the gathering of families on these
special occasions as theoretically desirable, and as practically useful.
But we have this fatal disadvantage; our families divide and disperse,
often to the ends of the earth, and a new home is soon made. Whole
families cannot be transported long distances, especially at inclement
seasons of the year, even if average dwellings would hold them all.
But in China, the family is already at home. It is only some of its male
members who are absent, and they return to their ancestral abode, with the
infallible instinct of the wild fowl to their southern haunts. If vast
distances should make this physically impossible--as is the case with the
countless Shan-hsi men scattered over the empire doing business as
bankers, pawn-brokers, etc., or as happens with many from the northern
provinces who go "outside the Great Wall,"--still the plan is to go home,
perhaps one year in three, and the time selected is always at the close of
the year.
A cat in a strange garret, a bird with a broken wing, a fish out of water
are not more restless and unhappy than the average Chinese who cannot go
home at New Year time. In addition to his personal deprivations, he has
the certainty of being ridiculed not only by the persons with whom he is
obliged to stay, but also by the people of his own village when he does go
home. The Chinese dread ridicule, even more than they dread the loss of a
good meal, and unless the circumstances are altogether exceptional, one
can depend upon it that every Chinese can only be kept away from his home
at New Year by circumstances over which he has no control. There is,
therefore, good ground for regarding reunion as a leading feature of a
Chinese New Year.
NEW CLOTHES
Whoever takes even a superficial view of the Chinese in their towns,
cities and villages during the period from the first day of the first moon
to the fifteenth of the same, will be struck with the display of new and
bright-coloured garments. Every article of apparel, both of the men and of
the women, and still more of the children, may be of any or all the colors
of the rainbow. The Chinese do not seem to us to be conspicuous for what
we call good taste, but rather at times to emulate the vagaries of the
African savages, and never more so than at this time of holiday show.
Combinations of colour which would cause Western ladies to shrug their
shoulders, and to shiver with horror, appear to recommend themselves to
the Chinese taste as the correct thing, and as good form. Bright green and
blue, accompanied by deep scarlet, purple, lilac or orange, do not seem to
"kill each other," as our modistes would shudderingly affirm, but they
convey such evident and such universal pleasure to wearers and spectators
alike, that it becomes plain to the most prejudiced foreigner, that here,
at least, his standards do not apply. In consideration of the stress which
the Chinese lay upon this feature of their great anniversary, we should be
justified in assuming fine clothes as a main characteristic of the
occasion.
RELIGIOUS RITES
The very first aspect in which Chinese New Year presents itself, no matter
in what part of the world we happen to meet it, is that of noise. All
night long, there is a bang! bang! bang! of firecrackers large and small,
which, like other calamities, "come, not single spies, but in battalions."
The root of all this is undoubtedly connected with religion, as in other
similar performances all over the world. But though the explosion of
gunpowder is the most prominent, it is far from being the most important
act of New Year worship. There is the despatch of the last year's
kitchen-god, generally on the twenty-third of the twelfth moon, and the
installation of his successor at the close of the year. On the last
evening of the year, there is the family gathering either at the ancestral
temple, or should there not be one, in the dwelling-house, for the worship
of the tablets of the past few generations of ancestors. In some parts of
China ancestral tablets are comparatively rare among the farming and
working people, and the place of them as regards the practical worship at
New Year's eve, is taken by a large scroll, containing a portion of the
family genealogy, which is hung up, and honoured with prostrations and the
burning of incense. On the morning of the second day of the new first
moon, perhaps at other times also, all the males of a suitable age go to
the family or clan graveyard, and there make the customary offerings to
the spirits of the departed. There has been considerable controversy among
foreigners expert in Chinese affairs as to the true value of these various
rites from a religious point of view, but there is no doubt on the part
of any one that they constitute a most essential ingredient in a Chinese
New Year, and that in the present temper of the Chinese race, a New Year
without such rites is both inconceivable and impossible. We do well,
therefore, to place Religious Rites prominently in our catalogue.
SOCIAL CEREMONIES
It requires but a slight acquaintance with the facts, however, to make us
aware that while the ceremonies connected with the dead are important,
they are soon disposed of once for all, and that they do not form a part
of the permanent New Year landscape. It is quite otherwise with the social
ceremonies connected with the living. The practice of New Year calls, as
found in some Western lands is a very feeble parody of the Chinese usage.
We call on whom we choose to call upon, when we choose to go. The Chinese
pays his respects to those to whom he must pay his respects, at the time
when it is his duty so to do and from this duty there is seldom any
reprieve. For example, not to press into undue prominence local practices,
which vary greatly, it may be the fashion for every one to be up long
before daylight. After the family salutations have been concluded, all but
the older generation of males set out to make the tour of the village, the
representatives of each family entering the yard of every other family,
and prostrating themselves to the elders who are at home to receive them.
This business goes by priority in the genealogical table, as military and
naval officers take rank from the date of their commissions. Early
marriages on the part of some members of a collateral branch of a large
clan, late marriages on the part of other branches, the adoption of heirs
at any point, and other causes, constantly bring it about that the men
oldest in years are by no means so in the order of the generation to which
they belong. Thus we have the absurd spectacle of a man of seventy posing
as a "nephew"--or, if worst comes to worst--as the "grandson" of a mere
boy. One often hears a man in middle life complain of the fatigues of the
New Year time, as he being of a "late generation," is obliged "to kotow to
every child two feet long" whom he may happen to meet, as they are "older"
than he, and in consequence of this inversion of "relative duties," the
children are fresh as a rose, while the middle-aged man has lame knees for
a week or two!
If the first day is devoted to one's native town or village, the
succeeding ones are taken to pay calls of ceremony upon one's relatives
living in other towns or villages, beginning with the mother's family, and
branching into relationships the names of which few foreigners can
remember, and which most cannot even comprehend. That all this social
ceremony is upon the whole a good thing cannot be doubted, for it prevents
many alienations, and heals in their early stages many cases of strained
relations. Yet, to us such a formal and monotonous routine would prove
insufferable.
To the Chinese, these visits are not only an important part of New Year,
presumptively they are in real sense New Year itself. Every visit involves
a "square meal," and (from the Chinese point of view) a good time. To omit
them, would be not only to deprive oneself of much pleasure, it would be
to commit a social crime, which would almost certainly give great offence.
NATIONAL LEISURE
Greater familiarity with the conditions and details of Chinese life lead
us to wonder that so laborious a people find _time_ for all this junketing
and vain display. The marvel is indeed a permanent one, but it ceases to
surprise us when we have once taken in the fact that the whole Chinese
race have as a unit, practically agreed to deduct from the twelve
available months, an entire half moon, from New Year till the Feast of
Lanterns. Within this twenty-fourth part of the year, nothing shall be
done which can be left undone. The outgo is to be put down to the expense
account of the whole year, and the main purpose is to have a good time.
This period thus becomes a safety-valve for the nation, which else might
go distraught in all its otherwise ceaseless toils. If the Chinese did not
as a rule, work so hard, they could not so heartily enjoy their long
vacation. If they did not so heartily enjoy their vacation, they could not
during the rest of the year work so well. We are therefore authorized, in
arranging our table of contents of the Chinese New Year, to give large
place to the almost complete cessation of productive industry. It is the
epoch of national leisure.
GAMBLING
It is a venerable maxim that "Satan finds some mischief still, for idle
hands to do." Probably no race that ever lived could resist the strain of
such a sudden transition from constant industrial activity, to complete
industrial inactivity, to be followed half a month later by the old
routine and another year of bondage. They could not resist the strain,
that is to say, without a corresponding reaction; neither can the Chinese.
It is not in human nature to find consecutive enjoyment merely in the
directions which have been named, without trying to go farther and to get
more. This is precisely what the Chinese do, and they do it by the
excitement of gambling. This, with opium smoking, is the greatest vice in
China, and the most ruinous. But after all, taking the country districts
through, the proportion of gamblers among the working classes, so far as
we are aware, is limited, though vast sums are everywhere annually
squandered in this way. But the remarkable thing is that at New Year's
time all restrictions seem to be removed, and both men and women give
themselves up to the absorbing excitement of cards, dominoes, etc., with
money stakes of varying amount, and with no fear or even thought of future
evil harvests. In the abstract, gambling is of course recognized as wrong
and not to be indulged, as likely to lead to trouble. But at New Year's
time "everybody does it," "it is only for amusement," and "there is
nothing else to do,"--the latter an important fact to be taken account of
at a time when even cooking is often prA|termitted as much as possible.
Merchants do not take down their shutters, but one can hear the clerks
noisily gambling inside. Innkeepers will not open their front doors, but
landlord and servants are all gambling together and will refuse to stop a
game to feed your animals or get you a meal, telling you that it is no
time to travel, and that business is business, and amusement amusement.
Old women and young women squatted on their mats or their _k'angs_,
feverishly shuffle their cards and pay their little stakes, and all are
having a good time.
That this state of things will not stop suddenly on the day after the
Feast of Lanterns, is obvious. It often never stops at all, but goes on
with a widening and lengthening trail of ruin, not ending even with the
grave, but lasting to the third and fourth generation. Surely we are right
in calling gambling a leading feature of a Chinese New Year. And yet after
all, perhaps we have not got to the bottom of the matter.
DEBT-PAYING
However little attention he may pay to the Chinese calendar, every
foreigner in China is sure to be reminded in a very effective way of the
approach of the close of the Chinese year, long before the edge of the New
Year is to be seen above the horizon. At some time during the twelfth
moon, the "boy" makes his appearance, and with an unusual animation in his
unanimated face, explains that owing to a combination of circumstances
which seem to be to a large extent incapable of elucidation to us, he is
obliged to request the advance of his wages for the current month, and
also for the one to come. This may be contrary to rule, doubtless is so,
but owing to the combination above alluded to, is an imperative necessity.
Otherwise ruin impends. It is not long before a similar statement is made
by the cook, with regard to his affairs, and by the various coolies as to
theirs. In each case the necessity turns out upon investigation to be so
real, and the pressure of the combination of circumstances so powerful,
that we are, in a manner, forced to do violence to our own judgment, in
order to avert the imminent ruin of those who are in our employ, and in
whom we feel, perhaps, some interest. But it is a long time before it
occurs to us to look into the matter more deeply than sufficiently to
ascertain what everybody knew before, that Chinese New Year is preceded by
a universal season of debt-paying from which no one is exempt. If we
insist upon following up any specific case with a rigid examination into
its remoter causes, we soon learn from the principal party such facts as
appear to justify his assertion of an emergency, and also that there is
nothing peculiar in his case, but that other people are in the same
predicament. If these inquiries are carried far enough, and deep enough,
they will bring to light the seven deadly sins of Chinese social
financiering.
1. _Everybody always needs to borrow._ That the business of the world even
in Western lands depends upon the borrowing of money, and that credit is
the largest factor in trade, are positions which we do not for a moment
forget. But Chinese borrowing is of a different type from that with which
the great expansion of modern commerce has made us familiar. We do not
affirm that there are not Chinese who do not need the money of other
people for the conduct of their affairs, but only that these people are so
rare that they may as well be disregarded. The whole scale of Chinese
living and the whole system of economics are of such a sort, that as a
rule there is but a narrow margin of financial reserve. With all their
practicality and skill in affairs, it is a constant source of wonder that
so few Chinese ever have anything to fall back upon. One reason for this
is the fact that it is very difficult for them to accumulate a reserve,
and another equally potent is the fact that there is nothing which can be
safely done with it pending its use. There are no savings-banks, and there
are no investments which are safe. The only thing which can be done with
ready money, is to lend it to those who need it, which is generally done
with some reluctance, as the lender justly fears lest he should never
again see either interest or principal. Whoever has a wedding in his
family, is liable to have to borrow money to carry it through, and if it
be a funeral the necessity will be still more urgent. He needs money to
start in business, and he needs more to settle up at the end of the year,
when, if their own accounts are to be trusted, nine Chinese out of ten who
engage in business in a small way, find that they have "lost money";
though this often signifies that they have not realized so much as they
had hoped. In short it is hard to find a Chinese to whom the loan of a sum
of money at any time, would not be as welcome as "water to a fish in a dry
rut." It is this all-prevailing need which smoothes the surface of the
spot where the pit is to be dug.
2. _Everybody is obliged to lend money._ We have just remarked that the
man who happens to have a little surplus cash does not like to lend it,
lest he should never see it again. But there are various kinds and degrees
of pressure which can be brought to bear upon the capitalist. One of these
is connected with the solidarity of the Chinese family, or clan. If one of
the members has money which he might lend and another is desperately in
need of it, the latter will get a member of the generation higher than
that to which the capitalist belongs, to intercede for him. This may be
done unwillingly, but it will probably be done. To a sufficient amount of
pressure of this ancestral description, the capitalist will find it best
to yield, though not improbably against his financial judgment. But every
Chinese is from infancy accustomed to the idea that it is seldom easy to
have one's own way in all things, and that when one cannot do as he would,
he must do as he must. If the borrower does not belong to the same family
or clan as the lender, the difficulty will be greater, but it may perhaps
be overcome by the same description of pressure, by means of friends. A
would-be borrower is often obliged to make a great many kotows before he
can secure the favour of a loan (at an extortionately high rate of
interest), but he is much aided in his efforts by the Chinese notion that
when a certain amount of pressure has been brought to bear, a request
_must_ be granted, just as one of a pair of scales must go down if you put
on enough weights. Thus it comes about that in all ranks of Chinese, the
man who has, is the man who must be content to allow to share in his
wealth (for a handsome remuneration).
3. From the foregoing propositions, it follows with inevitable certainty,
that _almost everybody owes some one else_. There is never any occasion to
ask a Chinese whether he owes money. The proper formula is, How much do
you owe, and to whom, and what is the rate of interest?
4. _No Chinese ever pays cash down, unless he is obliged to do so._ To us
this may appear a most eccentric habit, but it seems to be almost a law.
The Chinese has learned by ages of experience, that he no sooner pays away
money to satisfy one debt, than he needs that same money to liquidate
other debts. In their own figuratively expressive phrase, a single cup of
water is wanted in three or four places at once, and the supply is always
as inadequate, as the classical "cup of water to put out the fire in a
cart-load of fuel." Knowing this with a keenness of apprehension which it
is difficult for us to appreciate, the Chinese holds on fast to his cash
till it is wrung from him by a force which overcomes his own tenacity of
grip.
5. _No Chinese ever pays a debt till he is dunned._ To us this also seems
a strange practice. Most of us have grown up with a fixed idea that as a
debt must be paid, "if it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well it
were done quickly." The mind of a Chinese operates in quite a different
way. His view is, "If it must be done, it were best done when it is done
as deliberately as the case admits."
6. It seems also to be the rule, that _no Chinese will pay his debts till
he has been dunned a great number of times_. Here again he is at the
opposite pole from that which we occupy. We do not like to be dunned, and
would rather make considerable sacrifices than to have needy persons
dogging us for the collection of debts which we honestly owe, which we
must ultimately pay, and not to arrange for the payment of which at once
is more or less of a disgrace. By "we" we mean of course the average
foreigner, for it is not to be denied that Western lands have their full
proportion of impecunious and shameless rascals who "live off the interest
of their debts," and who swindle all those whom they can. But the Chinese
of whom we are speaking do not belong to this class. The mass of the
Chinese people we believe to be honest, and they fully intend to pay all
that they owe, but they do not intend to pay until they are ready to do
so, and neither gods nor men can tell when that will be. It is a current
saying that when a person has many debts he is no longer concerned about
them, just as when one has many parasites he ceases to scratch!
7. In a large proportion of cases, _the Chinese who pays a debt, pays but
a part of it at a time_. The rest he will try to get together in the
"third month," "the ninth month," or at the "end of the next year." The
practical outcome of these last three peculiarities is, that the twelfth
moon of every Chinese year is a time of maximum activity all over the
empire. One would suppose that a vast amount of work was being
accomplished, but the facts are otherwise. One is reminded of the Witch in
"Alice Behind the Looking-Glass," where the child was hurried along on a
broomstick at such a rate as to take her breath away. She thought she must
be traversing illimitable space, but when this idea was communicated to
the Witch, the latter only laughed, and replied that this was nothing at
all, for they had to go like that to "keep up with things" and if they
were really to get ahead to any extent, the rate of travel must be
enormously faster than that! The racing around of the Chinese in their
final moon, is just "to keep up with things." Every shop, no matter how
trifling the sum total of its business, has its army of runners out, each
"demanding debts," or rather endeavouring to do so; for to achieve it is
no such easy matter. The debtor is himself a creditor, and he also will be
occupied in the effort to call in the sums which are owing to him. Each
separate individual is engaged in the task of trying to chase down the men
who owe money to him, and compel them to pay up, and at the same time in
trying to avoid the persons who are struggling to track _him_ down and
corkscrew from him the amount of his indebtedness to them? The dodges and
subterfuges to which each is obliged to resort, increase in complexity and
number with the advance of the season, until at the close of the month,
the national activity is at fever heat. For if a debt is not secured then,
it will go over till a new year, and no one knows what will be the status
of a claim which has actually contrived to cheat the annual Day of
Judgment. In spite of the excellent Chinese habit of making the close of a
year a grand clearing-house for all debts, Chinese human nature is too
much for Chinese custom, and there are many of these postponed debts which
are a grief of mind to many a Chinese creditor.
The Chinese are at once the most practical and the most sentimental of the
human race. New Year _must not_ be violated by duns for debts, but the
debt _must_ be collected New Year though it be. For this reason one
sometimes sees an urgent creditor going about early on the first day of
the year carrying a lantern looking for his creditor. His artificial light
shows that by a social fiction the sun has not yet risen, it is still
yesterday and the debt can still be claimed!
We have but to imagine the application of the principles which we have
named, to the whole Chinese empire, and we get new light upon the nature
of the Chinese New Year festivities. They are a time of rejoicing, but
there is no rejoicing so keen as that of a ruined debtor, who has
succeeded by shrewd devices in avoiding the most relentless of his
creditors and has thus postponed his ruin for at least another twelve
months. For, once past the narrow strait at the end of the year, the
debtor finds himself again in broad and peaceful waters, where he cannot
be molested. Even should his creditors meet him on New Year's day, there
could be no possibility of mentioning the fact of the previous day's
disgraceful flight and concealment, or indeed of alluding to business at
all, for this would not be "good form," and to the Chinese "Good Form"
(otherwise known as Custom), is the chief national divinity.
An ingenious device by which to secure the desirable result that a family
shall be sure to have a supply of the food most indispensable for a proper
treatment of guests at the festive New Year season, is found in what are
called New Year Societies. Each member of the society contributes a few
hundred or perhaps a thousand cash a month for the first five months of
the year, until the wheat harvest in June when wheat is at its lowest
price, for example 1,200 cash for 100 catties or picul. During the five
months which have elapsed, the money thus assessed upon the members has
been put at interest, and has already accumulated a handsome income. As
soon as the new wheat is in the market, the loans are all called in, and
the treasurer takes the whole of the sum belonging to the association and
invests it in wheat. This he keeps until the close of the year, by which
time it is not at all unlikely that the price of the grain has doubled. He
then exchanges the wheat, at the current rate, with some maker of
bread-cakes (_man-t'ou_), and these are divided among the stockholders. In
this way, each one gets not only the benefit of the interest on loans for
five months, but also nearly or quite double the value of the wheat bought
just after harvest. Sometimes the monthly payments are continued
throughout the year, and the sum is then expended in a lump for
bread-cakes, wheat, cotton, or whatever each family most needs for the New
Year season. In societies of this kind, the rate of interest is sure to be
at least three per cent. per month, and perhaps four per cent. The amounts
borrowed are usually small, and each borrower must have a security from
among the contributors to the fund. In case payment is not forthcoming at
the due date, the next step is to raise an uproar, and if possible to
collect the debt by force. The inevitable and universal uncertainty and
difficulty attending the collection of any money on loan, give emphasis to
the adage that "where the profit is large, the risk is correspondingly
great."
Extortionate as are the ordinary rates of Chinese interest, ranging from
twenty-four to forty eight or more per cent. per annum, there are other
ways than direct loans, by which even greater profits may be gathered. The
passion for gambling seems to be all-pervasive among the Chinese, and it
is perhaps a greater bar to the prosperity of the common people than any
other habit of their lives. Many of the phenomena of Chinese coA¶peration
are associated with gambling practices, from which the profit to those who
manage the finances is very great. In all cases where there is money to
loan, it is possible to employ it for gaming, under the direction of the
managers, or trustees. Those who are in the habit of gambling do not stop
when their supply of money fails, but draw upon the bank of the loan
association at terms which are agreed upon, but which differ according to
circumstances. In an emergency, it might happen that a person whose
fortune had failed him, would be obliged to borrow of the bank, say 800
cash, which in a short time he must replace with 1,000. At the end of the
year when the accounts are made up and the money paid in, it is equally
divided among the contributors of the society, whether they may have used
the capital for gambling or not. In case they have borrowed a part of the
capital and are not able to repay it, their debt is set against their
contribution, and they lose their investment.
XX
THE VILLAGE BULLY
No adequate understanding of the life of the Chinese is possible without
some comprehension of the place therein of the bully, and conversely it
might almost be said that a just apprehension of the character and
functions of the Chinese bully is equivalent to a comprehension of Chinese
society.
So far as we know, the Chinese bully is a character peculiar to China. By
this it is not of course meant that other lands do not have and have not
always had their bullies, but that the mode in which Chinese bullies exert
their power is unique. It depends largely upon the peculiar
characteristics of the Chinese race, prominent among which is the desire
for peace, and a reluctance to engage in a quarrel. The traits of a bully
among a savage and warlike people such as our ancestors once were, and of
a bully among such a quiet folk as the Chinese, are inherently different.
The Chinese have many terms to designate the individual whom we have
termed a bully, among which one of the most common is that which means
literally "bare-stick" (_kuang-kun_), in allusion to the fact that those
who are most frequently bullies are generally those who have no property
to lose. But the general term is applicable to any one who plays the part,
whatever his social condition may be, and it is in this sense that we
shall employ it.
In considering the social functions of the bully, it is necessary to
distinguish him from several classes of persons, to any one of which he
may belong, but from each one of which he may be different. These four
classes are,--first, headmen of the village (called also, as we have
already remarked, by many other names); second, intermediaries (not
"middlemen" in the technical sense, but those who as peace-talkers,
intervene in the affairs of others) etc.; third, beggars; and lastly
thieves.
In China next in importance after the division of human beings into two
sexes, is another classification which every Chinese instinctively adopts.
According to this arrangement, all members of society are rated according
to their probable behaviour under bad treatment, just as the chemist
considers all substances in the light of their capacity for combination
with other elements.
In the popular speech of the people, every Chinese villager is said to be
either "_lao-shih_" or not "_lao-shih_." The words "_lao-shih_" mean
literally "old and solid," or in a derived sense gentle, tractable, from
which again arises a third signification of stupid, and gullible. The
highest degree of this latter quality is expressed in the phrase
"_ssA1/4-lao-shih_," which literally denotes one who is "dead-stupid"; that
is, one who can be imposed upon to any extent. Such a one, in a common
adage, is compared to the toes on an old woman's feet, which have been
suppressed all their life, without any power of asserting themselves.
The village bully is, (as we used to be taught of vulgar fractions) of
three kinds, simple, compound, and complex. The simple bully is a unit by
himself, managing his own affairs with his own resources. The compound
bully calls to his aid the power of numbers, and the mysterious and almost
irresistible talent for combination inherent in the Chinese. The complex
bully is not a bully merely, but has some business or profession, in the
management of which he is materially aided by the fact that he is a man to
be feared.
In his simplest form, a Chinese bully is a man of a more or less violent
temper and strong passions, who is resolved never to "eat loss," and under
all circumstances to give as good (or as bad) as he gets. Fortunately for
the peace of society, the overwhelming majority of the Chinese belong to
the "_lao-shih_" variety. In order to secure the reputation of being _not
"lao-shih,"_ a shrewd villager will sometimes adopt the expedient, not
unknown to other lands, of wearing his clothes in a loose and rowdy-like
fashion, talking in a boisterous tone, and resenting contradiction or any
overt lack of compliance with his opinions.
His cap is worn studiedly awry; his outer garment instead of being
decorously fastened, is left purposely unlooped; his abundant hair is
braided into a loose cue apparently as thick as his arm, the plaiting
beginning several inches away from the head: the end of the cue is
generally coiled about his neck or over his head (a gross breach of
Chinese etiquette), as if to show that he thirsts for a fight. His outer
leggings are not improbably so tied as to display a lining which is more
expensive than the outside; and his shoes are invariably worn down at the
heel, perhaps to make an ostentatious display of a silk embroidered _heel_
to the cotton stocking--a touch of splendour adapted to strike awe into
the rustic beholder. In a time of intense excitement over alleged
kidnapping of children, we have known a man to be apprehended in open
court and examined as a bad character, because the colour of his clothes
was unusual.
By persistently following out his peculiar lines of action, he will not
unlikely succeed in diffusing the impression that he is a dangerous man to
interfere with, and will in consequence be let severely alone. A cat of
even a small experience will not improbably manifest considerable
hesitation before attempting to swallow a lizard. It is evident,
therefore, that if any small reptile is obliged to associate with cats,
the art of simulating a lizard is a valuable one. The grade of bully of
which we are now speaking is in all Chinese society too common to attract
much notice, and he can be avoided by letting him alone. His weapons, like
the walls of Chinese cities, are defensive only.
Much more to be dreaded is the bully who will not let others alone, but
who is always inserting himself into their affairs with a view to
extracting some benefit for himself. The most dangerous type of these men
is the one who makes very little ado, but whose acts are ruinous to those
whom he wishes to injure. Such a one is aptly likened to a dog which bites
without showing his teeth.
The tactics which such a man adopts to establish his claim to the rank of
"village king," are the same with which we are only too familiar in other
lands, and which an advancing civilization has not yet succeeded in
rendering wholly obsolete. If there is no overt act which he sees his way
to commit, he can always pick a quarrel by reviling, which is regarded as
throwing down a glove of defiance. Not to notice such a challenge is from
a Chinese standpoint almost impossible. "To be reviled and to feel no
pain," this is the Chinese ideal of shamelessness. Nothing is rarer than
to find a Chinese who has been reviled, and who, when he was strong enough
to demand an apology, has allowed the matter to drop.
The intricate constitution of Chinese society is such that there is a
great variety of acts which, while they may not be directly hostile, must
be understood in the light of a challenge. If for example a bully has let
it be known that he is determined that a theatrical representation shall
take place the next autumn in his village, for some one to oppose it might
not improbably be such an act of hostility as to amount to a challenge.
The bully must then see that the theatre is engaged, or his "face" is
lost, which one may be sure will never happen as long as he is able to
prevent it.
There is always about one of these village bullies a general atmosphere of
menace, as if he were thirsting for an opportunity to issue an ultimatum.
He often does so, in a singularly vague manner, the significance of which
is, however, perfectly well understood. If A is the bully, and B is known
to oppose him, then A publicly states that if B does so and so, A will
not put up with it (_pu suan t'a_, literally, "will not take the
account," but insinuating a dark hint as to consequences). If B takes the
hint and quietly retires, there is peace, but otherwise there is war.
One of the qualifications which is very convenient for the village bully,
although not absolutely indispensable, is physical strength. One of the
nicknames of the local bully as just remarked, is that of village king.
Among those whose _forte_ is violence, the king must be a man who has
inherent power, "the man who can," for it is impossible to say at what
moment all his strength will be needed in some fight.
It is in view of this consideration, that it is very common for young
fellows who wish to distinguish themselves among their comrades, to take
systematic lessons in "fist-and-foot," that is, in gymnastics. A high
degree of skill in wrestling, and the ability (as alleged) to deliver such
a blow with the fist as shall knock out a brick from a wall a foot thick,
are in many circumstances valuable accomplishments.
The writer is well acquainted with a young man who enjoyed the reputation
of being the strongest person in his village. Being sent on an errand to a
distant city, he had occasion to pass through a smaller city some forty
_li_ from his home, where he was not known. Here a number of bullies, who
happened to be gathered in front of the district yamAȘn, struck with his
rusticity, stopped him, and demanded who he was and where he was going.
His replies to their inquiries not being sufficiently prompt to give
satisfaction, he was set upon by several men, who attacked him
simultaneously. Here his "fist-and-foot" skill was of great service; for
though two men were on top of him, he was able to seize the ankle of one
of them and to give it such a fearful twist as almost to dislocate the
joint, whereupon his assailants, howling with pain, were only too glad to
release him. At a later date the matter was looked into, and at the feast
which the attacking party was compelled to give, by way of apology, one of
those present hobbled around in a particularly feeble manner, and freely
expressed the opinion that upon this occasion he had mistaken his man!
In the numerous cases in which persons are imposed upon by a bully who is
too much for them, their earliest thoughts are how it may be practicable
to collect a band of men, expert in the "fist-and-foot" practices, and
make an attack upon the aggressive party, by which means he may be
suppressed. The writer once met a man whose home is in a village noted as
the headquarters of a daring and unscrupulous band of thieves. Having been
robbed by them with no prospect of any redress through legal channels,
this man collected a band of athletes and attacked the thieves in the
vicinity of the village where they made their home, so belabouring them
that the band removed its headquarters elsewhere.
It is a useful, but by no means a necessary qualification of the bully,
that he should be a poor man, with nothing to lose. Poverty in China is
often a synonym for the most abject misery and want. The entire
possessions of great numbers of the people would not amount in value to
five dollars, and thousands of persons never know whence the next meal is
to come. Such persons would in European countries constitute what are
called "the dangerous classes." In China, unless their distress is
extreme, they do not mass themselves, and they seldom wage war against
society as a whole. But individuals of this type may, if they have other
requisite abilities, become "village kings," and order the course of
current events much according to their own will.
Such persons, in the figurative language of the Chinese, are called
"barefoot men," in allusion to their destitute condition, and it is a
common saying that "the barefoot man (otherwise known as 'mud-legs') is
not afraid of him who has stockings on his feet," for the former can at
once retreat into the mud, where the latter dare not follow. In other
words, the barefoot man is able to hold in terror the man who has property
to lose, by an open or an implicit threat of vengeance, against which the
man of property cannot safeguard himself.
The forms which this vengeance will take vary according to circumstances.
One of the most common is that of incendiary fires, which, in a thickly
inhabited village, where there is often a large accumulation of fuel
stacked up, is a mode of attack particularly to be dreaded. It is always
easy to set a fire, but difficult and frequently impossible to extinguish
it. We have known numberless instances of this sort, in which, despite all
diligence, no one was ever detected in setting the fire. The terror which
such fires inspire is so great, that the man who is thought to be
specially liable to them may be marked and avoided for that reason alone.
It is considered unsafe to have anything to do with him, much less to aid
him in extinguishing his fires. In one case of this sort, the same
individual was repeatedly visited with incendiary fires, and on the last
occasion all his carts were totally destroyed, nothing remaining but the
tires of the wheels. It was afterward found that strong leather straps had
been used to bind the wheels to the framework of the shed in which they
were kept, so that any attempt to drag the carts out was certain to fail.
Another method by which the bully signifies his dissatisfaction with his
enemy, is by injuring his crops. In a country where the farms are
subdivided into mere fragments, every farmer's land is contiguous to that
of a great number of other persons. As already mentioned a large farm will
often consist of scores of different pieces of ground, which have been
bought as opportunity offered. When the land is planted, and again when
the harvest is gathered, excellent opportunity is afforded for disputes.
The little bushes which serve as boundaries of the fields of different
owners, in regions where stone posts are too expensive, are readily
destroyed or removed, and in any case the boundaries are more or less
inexact, leaving room for uncertainty as to the precise point at which one
piece of ground ends and another begins.
It is in such situations as this that the bully is at his best. It is well
understood that _he_ will suffer no loss, and that whoever happens to be
his neighbour, will literally have "a hard row to hoe." There are
sometimes sections of ground, such as those belonging to public uses,
river embankments, the land of certain temples, and the like, which no one
but a bully could cultivate at all, because the crops must be defended
against invasion from all quarters, and only a bully can furnish the
necessary skill and ferocity to protect himself.
In his essay on Lord Clive, Macaulay mentions the circumstance which was
still remembered in Shropshire, that in his boyish days the great Indian
soldier "formed all the idle lads of the town into a kind of predatory
army, and compelled the shopkeepers to submit to a tribute of apples and
half-pence, in consideration of which he guaranteed the security of the
windows." Young Robert Clive had hit upon the precise principle by which
the Chinese bully maintains himself in perpetual rule, a principle indeed
as old as the race:
"The good old rule, the simple plan
That those should take who have the power,
And those should keep who can."
The means of enforcing these exactions is always at hand, and is expressed
in one fateful and compound noun, _law-suit_. The bully who understands
his business is well acquainted with every one at the district yamAȘn, and
is in fact one of their best customers, or rather the man who brings them
their custom. The yamAȘn is the spider's web, and the bully is the large
insect which drives the flies into the net, where it will go ill with them
ere they escape.
If his adversary is rich, the bully may adopt the plan of leaving a bag of
smuggled salt in the doorway of the rich man, at the same time taking care
to have a "salt inspector" ready to seize the salt, and bring an
accusation against the man of means as a defier of the law. The "salt
inspectors" are themselves smugglers, selected for their expertness in the
art, and like all other underlings in Chinese official life they are
quite free from the trammels of any sort of conscience. From a suit of
this kind no rich man would be likely to escape without the sacrifice of
many thousand strings of cash, being not improbably forced to furnish the
funds for repairing a city wall, for rebuilding a temple, or some other
public work. The capacity to conduct successfully a lawsuit is in China
what it must have been in Bagdad during the time of the Caliph Haroun Al
Raschid to wear the Cap of Darkness and Shoes of Swiftness. Such agencies
defy all foes except those similarly equipped. And as in the Arabian
Nights there are many stories of magicians warring with magicians who also
"did so with their enchantments," in like manner when Chinese bullies meet
in a legal fight at a yamAȘn, it is a battle of giants.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO A YAMEN.]
[Illustration: CHINESE COURT OF JUSTICE.]
The most expert of all this dreaded class is the bully who is also a
literary man, perhaps a _hsiu-ts'ai_, or Bachelor of Arts, and who thus
has a special prestige of his own, securing him a hearing where others
would fail of it, guaranteeing him immunity from beating in open court, to
which others are liable, and enabling him to prepare accusations for
himself or others, and to be certain of the bearing of these documents
upon the case in hand.
These advantages are so great, that it is not uncommon to find persons who
make no secret of the fact that their main motive in submitting to the
toils requisite to gain the lowest literary degree, is that they may be
able, during the rest of their lives, to make use of this leverage as a
means of raising themselves and of harming their neighbours. Any Chinese
bully is greatly to be feared, but none is so formidable as the literary
bully.
One other type of Chinese bully must not fail of mention, for it is in
some respects the most unique of all, to wit the female bully. Her traits
are, _mutatis mutandis_, the same as those of the individuals already
mentioned, but her mere existence is so great a departure from our
ordinary conceptions of Chinese social life, that it needs a word of
explanation. She is simply an evolution of her surroundings. Skill in
speech, physical violence in act, and an executive talent are her
endowments, and her usefulness to the perennially hungry "wolves and
tigers" of the yamAȘn is such that she is called their draught-horse to
draw victims. Like her male compatriots, she is able from her value to the
underlings of the yamAȘn to conduct a lawsuit of her own, without any of
those numberless and vexatious expenses which suck out the lifeblood of
ordinary victims. This makes her a terrible, if not an invulnerable, foe,
and those who are wise will beware of her. According to a Chinese proverb,
a woman is more to be dreaded in such cases than a graduate of the second
degree. It is a saying of a certain humorous philosopher, that "one hornet
can break up a whole camp-meeting, when he feels well." How much mischief
one Chinese bully can accomplish in an average lifetime, it is impossible
to estimate.
While the government of China appears to have elements of extreme
stability, it is at the same time often practically weak in the very
points where it most needs strength, namely, in its capacity to put forth
powerful and sudden efforts. Whenever any uprising of the people takes
place, there is generally nothing to prevent its gaining a great momentum,
owing to the incapacity of the local authorities to cope with it. The same
phenomenon is seen in any personal affray between single individuals.
There are no police to arrest the one who commits a breach of the peace,
and it is only by the intervention of third parties, friendly to the
principals, that order is restored. But if either of the parties is able
to bring a large force to bear upon the person whom he attacks, he is
almost certain to be victorious.
It is at this point that the organisation of the followers of the bully
proves a formidable foe to the peace of Chinese society. Let us suppose
that a man has a violent personal quarrel with an enemy. An outbreak of
their feud occurs at a great fair, such as abound at almost all seasons of
the year. One of the men is intimate with another man who is a
professional bully and who has within call a number of associates who can
be depended upon in an emergency. The man who knows the bully goes to him
and tells him of the grievance and asks his help. The bully lets it be
known among his comrades that a friend is in need of assistance, and that
their services will be called for. The party assembled goes to that
section of the fair-ground where congregate the dealers in sticks used for
supports for awnings, etc., and each man "borrows" a stout sapling,
promising to return it later. With this lawless band, like the forces of
Robin Hood, the bully sets upon his victim and wins an easy victory. None
of the spectators will interfere in a brawl of this sort, for the
consequences might be most serious. It does not follow that there is any
regular organization among the rough members of the dangerous classes who
are assembled, except that they are ready to unite in anything which
promises the joy of battle, and a probable reward in the shape of a
complimentary feast.
Cases of this sort, which are by no means of infrequent occurrence,
exhibit the weakness of the Chinese government, but they also exhibit its
strength. If the millions of China were not satisfied with the existing
rule, nothing would be easier than for them to unite and overthrow it. But
the security of the government is based mainly upon the well-understood
and well-ascertained fact that the people as a whole have no wish to
overturn the system under which they live, as well as upon the equally
indisputable fact that, with the Chinese, effective combination is an
exceedingly difficult matter.
The assemblage of bands of men under the virtual direction of a leader is
a menace to the peace of the whole region in which they live, and it is
not strange that Magistrates of such Districts live a life which is not to
be envied. As plunder is often the real object of these combinations, the
yamAȘn of the Magistrate is as likely to be the point of attack as any
other place, which makes it necessary that the official shall provide
himself with trained athletes, who shall be able to meet and repel
assaults made at night. Cases are occasionally reported in the _Peking
Gazette_, where in spite of this precaution the yamAȘn was robbed, and the
seal actually carried off, to the ruin of the Magistrate, upon whom
perhaps the people are glad to be revenged.
The existence of such small and lawless forces in the midst of Chinese
social life, quiet and orderly as that life ordinarily is, renders it
certain that outbreaks will continually occur. But these attacks are not
all from one side. There are in Chinese many proverbial sayings referring
to the tiger, which have a metaphorical significance, and really denote
the person whom we have named the bully, who is regarded as a social
tiger. One of these sayings is to the effect that a tiger who has wounded
too many men, is liable to fall into a mountain ravine. This means that
the bully who has made enemies of too many people will at last himself
fall into trouble, and then his enemies will be able to have their revenge
upon him.
Cases of this sort are constantly occurring, and often result in one or
more murders, which must be reported, and which are sometimes narrated in
detail in the _Peking Gazette_. It is not uncommon to hear of instances in
which bullies have been attacked by large bands of men, many of them
formerly the victims of the bully. Sometimes he is kidnapped, and
sometimes he is killed outright. The method by which the village wars and
clan fights of the Fu-kien and Kuang-tung provinces are conducted,
probably bears a close analogy to these proceedings. They appear to be
trials of strength between neighbouring rivals, conducted upon the plan of
warfare during the middle ages in which the feudal system reigned. The
local Magistrates take care not to interfere too soon or too far, lest it
be the worse for them. When the fight is over the officers put in an
appearance, arrests are made, and the machinery of government recovers
from its temporary paralysis.
We have spoken of the literary bully as one of those most to be dreaded
in China. But there is another qualification which a bully may possess,
either with or without that of learning, which makes him an almost
irresistible enemy. If he belongs to a family, one or more members of
which are in official life and have a certain degree of power with the
official class, such a man is a dangerous foe. Instances are constantly
coming to light, not only in the native papers of China but also in
memorials in the _Peking Gazette_ (to which we have so frequently had
occasion to refer), showing how difficult, or rather how altogether
hopeless, it is to deal with such offenders. Even in cases of the most
wanton murder, there is always some way by which the matter can be
adjusted, and there is no assurance that the influential culprit gets any
real punishment at all.
The following instance which occurred more than a generation ago, in a
District near to that in which the writer lived for a long time,
illustrates the kind of proceedings to which reference is made.
During the eighteenth century there lived in that County a family named
Lu, one of the members of which attained to the lofty eminence of _Ko
Lao_, or Grand Secretary. A family of this class, especially if it should
be the only one of the sort in the District, exerts a commanding
influence, and it is necessary for the local Magistrate to conduct himself
discreetly, in order not to win the ill-will of such a powerful
corporation. It is well if he is able to collect from them even the
ordinary land-tax, which all the soil of the empire is supposed to pay.
It is related of this family that, upon one occasion having been ordered
by the District Magistrate to collect this tax, the local constable was
unable to do as he was told. Having been repeatedly beaten for his
delinquencies in this respect, he presented himself at the entrance of the
premises of his wealthy neighbour, and with earnest prostrations begged
the gatekeeper to intercede for him, and get the tax paid.
The elderly widow who was the manager of the establishment, having been
informed of this plea, ordered her cart harnessed, and proceeded to the
District Magistrate's yamAȘn, for an interview. The official perhaps
entertained a wild hope that she had come to settle up her arrears of
taxes, and even planned to borrow a sum of money of her, but she soon
dispelled this idea, by telling him in so many words that she herself
required a "loan" of a certain number of thousands of tA|ls, which the
Magistrate was obliged to promise to get for her, at the earliest possible
moment. As she rose to take her leave, she remarked incidentally that her
gatekeeper had been much annoyed by some of the yamAȘn underlings who hung
about the premises under pretence of wanting a grain-tax, adding that she
should expect to hear no more of such proceedings in future!
Upon another occasion, while the _Ko Lao_ himself was alive, a complaint
was made to the District Magistrate that a son of the _Ko Lao_ had a
maidservant, who was virtually imprisoned in the family mansion. She was
originally hired having been betrothed, but although it was time for her
to be married, her employer refused to let her go. The Magistrate sent for
the son of the _Ko Lao_, made known the charge, and desired the release of
the person detained. He even went to the length of beating the attendant
of the Lu family, who had accompanied his master, the latter being himself
too lofty a subject for punishment. The son went to his home in a towering
rage, and wrote a letter to his father in Peking, detailing the
circumstances. Soon after this, the Magistrate received the news of his
promotion from the grade of Sub-prefect to that of Prefect, in the
province of SsA--ch'uan.
The journey to a new post is often a most serious matter for an official,
and where, as in this case, he has the entire empire to cross, the trouble
and expense are very great. He had no sooner reached this distant post,
than he received a notification that he was promoted to another in the
province of YA1/4n-nan, again involving an expensive and tedious journey.
When he had at length taken up the duties of this office it was only to
be informed that he was promoted afresh to the high rank of Tao-t'ai in a
region beyond the Great Wall. He now began to perceive the significance of
this strange series of events, and wholly unable either to bear the ills
which he already had, or to support the prospect of perhaps greater ones
yet to come, he "swallowed gold," and thus escaped further promotion and
ruin!
XXI
VILLAGE HEADMEN
Many of the phenomena of village life which we shall have occasion to
notice, are instances of the Chinese talent for coA¶peration.
Perhaps no more important exemplification of this principle is to be found
in Chinese society than that embodied in the local self-government of the
small communities of which the greater part of the empire is composed. The
management of the village is in the hands of the people themselves. At
first this condition of affairs is liable to be mistaken for a pure
democracy, but very slight inquiry is sufficient to make it evident that
while all matters of local concern are theoretically managed by the
people, in practice the burden falls not upon the people as a whole, but
upon the shoulders of a few persons, who in different places are called by
different titles and whose functions differ as much as their designations.
The apparent dead-level uniformity of China is found upon investigation to
be subject to surprising variations, not only in parts of the empire
remote from one another, but in those which are separated by but a short
distance. On this account it is difficult to generalize in regard to the
government of villages in general, but easy to describe that of some
villages, with the explanation that elsewhere the same results may be
attained by means slightly different, or by the same means under different
names.
Every Chinese village is a little principality by itself, although it is
not uncommon for two or more which are contiguous and perhaps otherwise
linked together, to manage their affairs in unison, and perhaps by the
same set of persons. These headmen are sometimes styled _village elders_
(_hsiang chang_, or _hsiang lao_), and sometimes they are termed merely
managers (_shou shih jAȘn_). The theory in regard to these persons is that
they are chosen, or rather nominated, by their fellow-townsmen, and
confirmed in their position by the District Magistrate. In some regions
this is actually done, and for the good conduct of the headmen in their
office the leading land-owners are required to become a security.
The designation "village elders" might be understood to denote that the
persons who bear it are the oldest men in the village, but this is not
necessarily the case. Neither are they necessarily the wealthiest men,
although it is probable that every family of property will be in some way
represented among them. They are not necessarily men of literary
attainments, although this may be the case with a few.
In those regions where the method of selection is most loose, the number
of headmen has no necessary relation to the size of the village; the
position is not hereditary, neither is there any fixed time of service. A
man may act in this capacity at one time, and refuse or neglect to do so
at another time. Where this plan prevails, the headmen are not formally
chosen, nor formally deposed. They drop into their places--or perhaps
climb into them--by a kind of natural selection. The qualities which fit a
villager to act as headman are the same which contribute to success in any
line of business. He must be a practical person who has some native
ability, acquainted with the ways of the world, as well as able and
willing to devote upon occasion an indefinite amount of time and attention
to the affairs which may be put in his charge.
The duties and functions of the headmen are numerous. They may be
classified as those which have relation to the government of the District,
those which relate to the village as such, and those which concern private
individuals, and are brought to the notice of the headmen as being the
persons best able to manage them.
Of the affairs which concern the government, the most important is the
imperial land or grain-tax, the nature of which and the mode of collecting
which vary greatly. Calls are constantly made by the local officials for
government transportation, provision for the entertainment of officers on
government business, materials for the repairs of the banks of rivers,
work on river-banks, patrols for the Imperial roads at the season of year
when travel is at its maximum, and many other similar objects.
The medium through whom the District Magistrate communicates with the
village, is the "local constable," (called the _ti-fang_ or _ti-pao_,) and
this individual has necessarily intimate relations with the headmen, who
constitute the executive board, through which alone definite action is
taken.
Among affairs which relate to a village as such, are to be named the
construction and repair of the wall (if it has one), and the care of the
gates (if they are closed at night), the establishment and supervision of
fairs and markets, the engagement of theatrical companies, the organized
watching of the crops, together with the punishment of persons detected in
violating the rules which have been agreed upon, the building and repair
of temples, the sinking of wells for the use of the village, or the
cleaning of those which are already in use, and a great variety of other
similar duties, depending upon the situation of the village and its
traditions and circumstances.
It is a noteworthy fact that the government of China, while in theory more
or less despotic, places no practical restrictions upon the right of free
assemblage by the people for the consideration of their own affairs. The
people of any village can if they choose meet every day in the year. There
is no government censor present, and no restriction upon liberty of
debate. The people can say what they like, and the local Magistrate
neither knows nor cares what is said. The government has other security
for itself than espionage, and by a system of graded responsibility, is
able to hold all its subjects under strict control. But should
insurrection break out, these popular rights might be extinguished in a
moment, a fact of which all the people are perfectly well aware.
The methods of Chinese management being what they are, it is not
surprising that those who are in the position of headmen find it, or
rather make it to their advantage to stay in it. The ways in which this
comes about are numerous.
There is in every village an unceasing supply of matters which do not
belong to the public, but which must be adjusted by some man or men who
are in the habit of transacting business, and who not only know what is to
be done but how to do it. There are always Chinese who like to engage in
these affairs, such as the adjustment of domestic quarrels, differences
between neighbours, and the like. The headmen of the village will be
certain to be frequently called upon for services of this sort.
But such labours, onerous as they often are, will be acknowledged only by
the thanks of those interested, and a participation in the inevitable
final feast. It is quite otherwise with such public matters as the
collection of material for public uses, and the disbursement of public
funds. Every village has numerous enterprises which involve the handling
of money, and these enterprises must be in the hands of those competent to
take charge of them.
There is not in such cases that constant struggle between the "ins" and
the "outs," which is seen in lands where the democracy is of a more
flagrant type than in China. Yet even in China such contests do sometimes
occur. We know of one village in which the public business had for a long
time been monopolized by a band of men who had subjected themselves to the
criticisms of those who, although younger, felt sure that they were not on
that account the less capable. The result of the criticisms was that the
incumbents withdrew from their places, leaving them to those who offered
the criticisms, a method of adjustment which is known to be practiced in
the government of the empire.
But it is probable that cases of such easy victory are relatively rare,
for the reason that the "ins" have every opportunity to keep themselves in
their position and they are for the most part not at all sensitive to
criticism, being quite content to reap the substantial benefits of their
position, and to leave the talking to spectators. In the ordinary matters
of routine, it is easy for them to find abundant precedents for almost any
irregularity, and to the Chinese precedents are most precious, as marking
out the natural limits of human action.
In many villages but a small portion of the population can read well
enough to inspect accounts, and many of those whose knowledge is equal to
this strain upon it, have no practical familiarity with public business,
with which they have never had any opportunity to become acquainted.
Many who clearly recognize the evils attending the methods in which the
business of their village is managed, do not for two excellent reasons
make any protest. In the first place, to do so would raise a storm about
their heads, which they have no wish to encounter. Even if the movement
should prove completely successful, and the present incumbents should all
be removed from their places, it would be difficult, not to say
impossible, to find others who would manage matters upon any plan
essentially different. A change would be simply the removal of a well-fed
swarm of flies, to make way for a set much more hungry, a substitution
against which the fox in the fable wisely remonstrated. The Chinese wholly
agree with the sagacious fox.
The course which matters take when complaint is really made, may be
understood by an illustrative example with which the writer is acquainted.
During one of the years in which the Yellow River made destructive breaks
in central Shan-tung, an order was issued that all the counties in the
province accessible to the river should furnish a certain quota of millet
stalks to be used in the repair of the river-banks. These stalks were to
be paid for in ready money by the government agents. But as some of the
counties were situated more than two days' journey from the river-banks,
the amount received for the stalks did not cover the cost of the feed of
men and animals for so long a journey. Besides this, the government
officials had a ready means by which to exercise complete control over
those who brought the stalks, by refusing to take over the material or to
weigh it until such time as the officials might be ready. By this means,
both men and teams were kept on expense, so that at last the persons who
hauled stalks were only too glad to be allowed to depart without any pay
at all for the loads which they had brought.
Abuses of this sort were said to be exceedingly common at that time,
although on subsequent occasions we have been assured by those who have
taken stalks to river-embankment, that full pay in good money was
invariably given. In the village to which we refer, the business of
providing and delivering the stalks was put by the District Magistrate
into the hands of an elderly headman, a literary graduate. This man
naturally called about him some of his former pupils, who did the
practical part of the work. They took stalks three times to the place of
deposit, and received in payment about 70,000 cash. Taking advantage of
the general uncertainty which prevailed in regard to payments, these
managers rendered no accounts to the village, but proceeded to appropriate
a certain part of their receipts to their own use.
Matters continued in this way for more than a year, when some of those who
were dissatisfied, called a public meeting in a village temple, and
demanded a clear account of receipts and expenses, which for reasons well
understood, it was impossible to give. Finding that the affair was
becoming serious, the graduate got some residents of the same village to
"talk peace" to the excited villagers. Their argument was this: "If we
press this matter, and take it before the District Magistrate, the old
graduate, who is really altogether innocent, will lose his button and will
be disgraced. The others concerned will all be beaten, and this will
engender hatred and feuds which will last for generations." The middlemen
then proposed that by way of settlement a feast should be prepared by the
graduate, at which a representative of every surname in the village should
be present, and this plan being adopted, because nothing else was
feasible, the matter was buried in compulsory oblivion. This is a type of
a large class of cases.
In many villages, there are those who are never so happy as when they are
in a disturbance with others, and such men will be a thorn in the side of
any "board of aldermen" to whose councils admission is not to be had. It
is very common indeed to hear of lawsuits arising about village temples,
and there is good reason to believe that it is exceptional to meet with a
large ancestral temple, in connection with which quarrels have not arisen
and perhaps lawsuits been prosecuted.
In some districts the temples are built rather from a general impulse to
do as others do than from any sense of the need of such structures, which
become a perpetual tax on the revenues of the people and a source of
dispute. In such regions it is a common thing to meet with temples from
which the priests have been ousted, or which they have voluntarily
abandoned, finding the place too hot for them.
In one instance of this description, which occurred near the writer's
home, a certain prominent headman set on foot a lawsuit which drove
several priests from a Buddhist monastery, and left only one priest where
before there had been many. After the priests had left, this headman
kindly took charge of the temple lands, and absorbed the entire income
himself to the exclusion of the priest, dispensing altogether with
rendering any account whatever for the proceeds. Even the cart and the
harness which belong to the temple, are in this man's yard as if they were
his own.
Intelligent men of this village, when asked why some of them do not
protest against this usurpation, always make the same reply: "Who wants to
stir up a lawsuit, out of which he will gain nothing but loss? It is
certainly no affair of mine." This particular village is scarcely a type
of the average, but it is a very fair sample of the more flagrant cases in
which a small knot of men fasten themselves upon a Chinese community, by
the same process by which many years ago the Tweed ring saddled themselves
upon the city of New York. If any objection is made to their procedure,
the ring inquire disdainfully, in the language of Mr. Tweed, "What are you
going to do about it?" And all the people hasten to reply, "Oh, nothing at
all. It is all right as it is."
An instance of the facility with which trouble may arise in village
affairs was afforded in this same town, during one of the years in which
heavy rains threatened the lands of the village. A part of these lands
were situated in a region subject to inundation, and the rest on higher
ground. As soon as the danger of a flood became apparent, the village
headmen ordered relays of men to work on a bank, which was made of
whatever soil was at hand, and in order to strengthen this bank, the
standing millet was pulled up by the roots, and buried in the earthwork.
Those whose crops were thus ruined, had for this loss no redress whatever.
It is held that the exigency of a public need justifies any injury of this
kind, the persons who benefit by the sacrifice, always largely in the
majority, having no disposition to make up the incidental losses. Some
days after this occurred, the headmen went about collecting a definite
assessment from each acre of land in the village, for the purpose of
paying for the labour upon the bank previously made. They visited the
house of one of the men whose crops had been destroyed, at a time when he
chanced to be away from home and were met by his son, who not only
manifested no awe of the village authorities, but expressed his
indignation at the destruction of the family crops, and declared that
instead of being called upon to contribute to the cost of the ruin which
had been wrought, his family ought to be reimbursed for their own losses.
However compatible such a view may appear with abstract justice, to the
minds of the village headmen this was nothing less than rank treason of
the most dangerous type.
When the head of the family returned, it was to find that the headmen had
already left the village on their way to the District city, to enter a
complaint against him, as one who refused to pay his just dues to the
defence of the village. A lawsuit begun upon such a basis meant nothing
less than a calamity greater than any flood that was likely to overtake
him, so the distracted father hastened to pursue the headmen with offers
of adjustment, made through third parties. By dint of an immense amount of
talking, the headmen were induced to return to the village, without
entering the city and making a formal complaint.
The father of the offending lad then appealed to certain friends living in
another village, to come and intercede for him with the outraged guardians
of the welfare of his own village. In the course of the next forenoon, the
persons who had been entrusted with this difficult task, made their way to
the village, and had interviews with some of the headmen. It was
impossible to get all of these men together at any one time, but one set
was first seen, and then another, until the matter had been thoroughly
discussed in all its bearings. These conferences, including plans of
adjustment offered, modified, rejected, amended, and afterward brought up
again and again, actually consumed the whole day, and all the next night
until the crowing of the cocks announced the dawn, and it was not until
daylight on the second day, that the weary and disgusted "middlemen"
returned to their own village, having at last succeeded in securing a
reduction of the proposed fine, which was to have been an exemplary one,
to a merely nominal amount.
This instance is a type of countless cases everywhere in which the evil
forces of Chinese society effect a coA¶peration of their own, seriously
modifying all other social phenomena, and leading to results of great
importance.