[Illustration]
The peasant cultivator of China spends a life of intermittent
industry. In the north there is but one annual crop, but in the south
two crops are grown. The principal cultivation being rice, he is
perforce constrained to the system of co-operation, as, there being no
fences, all the rice crop of a large flat area, sometimes minutely
subdivided, must be reaped at the same time, so that when the crop has
been removed the cattle and buffaloes may roam over the flat for what
pasturage they can pick up before the flooding of the land and
preparation for the next crop.
[Illustration: WAITING FOR CUSTOMERS.]
In the event of any farmer being late with his sowing, he must procure
seed of a more rapidly growing kind, some kinds of rice showing a
difference of a month or more in the time that elapses from sowing to
reaping. But even when the crop is down and growing, no grass that
may be found on the edges of the paths or canals is allowed to go
to waste. Small children may then be seen seated sideways on the broad
backs of the buffaloes while the beasts graze upon the skirting
pasture, the children preventing them from injuring the growing crops.
[Illustration]
The first crop is sown about April and reaped early in July, the
second late in July and reaped at the end of September. After the
rice, which has generally been sown very thickly in a nursery, has
been transplanted to the flooded fields and taken root, the ground is
gone over and the mud heaped with the feet around each plant. The
ground is manured when the rice is about a foot high with pig manure,
mixed with lime and earth, and scattered by hand at a time when the
water is low. If the crop looks poor the manure is carefully applied
round each plant, and sometimes if it is still very backward, when the
water is around it, the manure is poured over it in a liquid state.
The water is kept on the rice field until a very short time before
reaping, and after the crop is in full ear the Chinese like to have
three days' rain, which they say improves the yield very materially.
When the rice is six or eight inches over the water, which is then
about three inches deep, large flocks of ducks and geese may be seen
feeding on the frogs, etc., to be found in the paddy fields (paddy is
the term for rice before it has been husked), attended by a man or
boy, who carries a long bamboo pole with a bunch of bamboo leaves tied
at the top. When the evening comes a shake of his pole brings all the
flock, sometimes numbering hundreds, out of the field, and as they
emerge on the path the last duck or goose receives a whack of the
bunch of leaves. It is amusing to see how this is realized by the
birds, who waddle along at top speed to avoid being last. Once on the
path the herd goes in front, and, placing his pole against the base of
a bank, all the flock jump over it, being counted as they go. Ducks
are reared in amazing numbers in Southern China, the eggs being
hatched in fermenting paddy husks. Every country shop has displayed a
number of dried ducks, the fowl being cut in half and spread out under
pressure. But as articles of food nothing comes amiss; rats are dried
in the same way and sold, though the house rat is not usually eaten,
the rat of commerce being the rodent found in the rice fields. Besides
rice, the farmer grows crops of rape, fruit, and a large quantity of
vegetables. Mulberry trees are the main crop in the silk regions, and
in the provinces bordering the Yangtze tea is produced, while to the
westward the cultivation of the poppy assumes large proportions. In
the economy of the Chinese farmer the pig plays as prominent a part
as in Ireland, for the pig is a save-all, to which all scraps are
welcome. The Chinese pig is usually black. It has a peculiarly hollow
back, the belly almost trailing on the ground, and it fattens easily.
A roast sucking-pig is always a _pièce de resistance_ at a feast.
The Chinese farmer is thrifty, but he has his distractions in
card-playing and gambling in various ways that could only be devised
by Chinese ingenuity. He loves a quail fight or a cricket fight, the
latter being an amusement that sometimes brings a concourse of
thousands together. A large mat-shed is erected and in this is placed
the cricket pit. The real arena of the fight is a circular bowl with a
flat bottom about seven inches in diameter. Two crickets being placed
in it are excited to fury by having their backs tickled by a rat's
bristle inserted in the end of a small stick, such as a pen handle.
The rival crickets fight with great fury until one turns tail and is
beaten. Many thousands of dollars are wagered at times upon these
contests, and the most intense excitement prevails. When a man has
been fortunate enough to capture a good fighting cricket he feeds it
on special meal. Such a known cricket sometimes changes hands for a
considerable sum. After all, the value of a cricket, like a
race-horse, is what it may be able to win. As the initial expense of
a cricket is only the trouble of catching it, this is a form of
excitement within reach of the poorest, and the villager may have in
gambling for a cash (the tenth part of a cent) as much excitement as
the richer town-dweller who wagers in dollars.
[Illustration]
The farmer's house is not luxurious in its furniture, but it is
sufficient for his wants. With the exception of the table almost
everything is made of bamboo, which, with the aid of fire and water,
can be bent to any shape, but there is great diversity in the lamp of
pottery or pewter or brass, the latter being somewhat similar in shape
to the ancient Roman lamp. The bed is simply a flat board, over which
a grass or palm leaf mat is laid. The pillow is a half round piece of
pottery about ten inches long and four inches high. A common form is
that of a figure on hands and knees, the back forming the pillow. The
careful housewife places her needlework inside the pillow, which makes
an effective workbasket. In winter the pottery pillow is replaced by
one of lacquer and leather, which is not so cold. Over his door will
be found a beehive, made of a drum of bamboo two feet long by twelve
inches in diameter and covered with dried clay, while his implements
of husbandry--consisting of a wooden plough of the same shape as may
be seen on Egyptian ancient monuments, and which with the harness he
carries on his shoulder to the field, a hoe, and a wooden "rake" of
plain board to smooth the mud on which the rice will be sown--can be
accommodated in the corner. He is not very clean and has a lofty
contempt for vermin; but sometimes he will indulge in the luxury of a
flea-trap, made of a joint of bamboo three inches in diameter, the
sides cut out, leaving only enough wood to preserve the shape. This he
carries in his sleeve, but what he inserts as a trap I have not been
able to discover.
[Illustration]
Apart from his gambling his distractions are a visit to the temple
before or after crop time, a marriage, a funeral, a procession, or a
pilgrimage to one of the seven holy mountains of China. He has not
often more than one wife, who, being entirely at his mercy, rules him
with a rod of iron, and to whom as a rule he leaves the emotional part
of the religion of the family. To her falls all the anxious care of
the children, and horrible fears assail her lest the evil spirits,
against whose machinations all the ingenuity of her religious
superstitions is exerted, should get possession of any of her boys. To
this end she will dress the boys as girls, and indulge in
make-believes that would not puzzle the silliest devil that ever
tormented a Chinese mother. Nor does she neglect religious duties, for
she will be seen in the temple praying devoutly, and then taking up
the two kidney-shaped pieces of wood, flat on one side and round on
the other, that are found on the altar before the god, she will place
the flat sides together between her palms and flinging them up observe
the position in which they fall. If both flat sides come up, it is
good; if the round, then it is evil; if one of each, there is no
answer. This she repeats three times; or going to a bamboo in which
are a number of canes, each bearing a number, she shakes it, as Nestor
shook the helmet of Agamemnon, until one falls out, when she looks for
the corresponding number among a quantity of yellow sheets of paper
hung upon the wall where she reads the mystic answer to her prayer.
It is not easy for the casual inquirer to understand the religious
beliefs of the Chinese. In many ways intensely materialistic, the
people have a living faith, at least in reincarnation or recurring
life; and while their spiritual attitude is rather a fear of evil
demons than a belief in a merciful God, yet there is among them a
spirit of reverence and of thankfulness for favours received. One day
at Chekwan Temple--a very fine and richly ornamented temple on the
Pearl River--I saw a fisherman and his family enter with a basket of
fish and some fruits, which he laid upon the altar. Then, first
striking the drum to call the attention of the god, the family prayed
devoutly, while the father poured a libation seven times upon the
altar. I asked the priest what it meant, and he answered that the man
had had a good take of fish the previous night and was returning
thanks. Sometimes when a member of the family is ill they will go to
the temple and have a prayer written, then burning the paper, they
take home the ashes, and administer them as a medicine. Again, in a
temple in Canton one pillar is covered with paper figures of men,
which are tied to the pillar upside down. Asking the meaning I was
told that these were tied on by the light-o'-loves of young Chinese
who, having taken a wife, had put an end to the temporary arrangements
as common in a Chinese city as in the centres of Western civilization.
The abandoned ones vainly hoped that by timely incantations and tying
on of the figures their protectors might be induced to return to them.
But the great annual excitement to the peasant under normal conditions
is the theatrical performance that takes place in every district. The
company brings its own theatre, an enormous mat-shed erection capable
of accommodating an audience of a thousand people. This is erected in
a few days, and for a week or more historical or social plays are
performed. The actors make up and dress upon the stage, on which the
more prominent members of the audience are sometimes accommodated. All
the actors are men, as women are not allowed to perform; but the men
who take women's parts could not be distinguished from females, and
some are very highly paid. The dresses are very gorgeous. In
historical plays all the actors wear long beards and moustaches which
completely cover the mouth. The bad character of the play is always
distinguished by having the face darkened and with a white patch on
the nose. The play is in the form of an opera in which the singers
intone their parts in a simple recurring time, being accompanied in
unison by a couple of stringed instruments of curious form; but when
an important entry is made or one of the oft-recurring combats take
place, large cymbals clash with deafening noise. This is never done
while the singing dialogue is proceeding. The properties are in a
large box on the stage. If an actor is going over a bridge the
attendants, who are moving about, place a table with a chair at either
side, put over it a cloth, and the bridge is complete. The actor walks
over and the table is removed. Should he mount a horse, or get into a
chair, conventional movements convey the fact to the audience. In the
combats one man is always slain. Then the attendant walks forward and
drops a roll of white paper or cloth before him, when the slain man
gets up and walks out. In Japan matters are somewhat differently
done. There are always two attendants in black with wide flowing
sleeves, who are supposed to be invisible. When a character is slain
one stands in front, spreads his arms, and the defunct walks off, the
invisible attendant moving after him, keeping between him and the
audience.
[Illustration]
In social plays the actors are no longer in gorgeous historic
costumes, but are clad in modern dress. When a very poor man came on
he indicated his poverty by making the movements of cracking vermin on
his clothes between his nails.
It is singular how little one misses the scenery, and the audience
takes the keenest interest in the plays, sometimes being moved to
tears at the tragic parts.
The position of the actor is very low in the Chinese scale, no actor
or child of an actor being permitted to present himself for public
examination; the brotherhood of the sock and buskin is a very large
community.
When the play is finished, if there are wealthy men present servants
come in laden with strings of copper cash, which are laid upon the
stage.
But these are the incidents of country life in normal times. When
rains are short and rivers run low, and the rice crop fails, then
gaunt famine stalks over the arid land, and discontent and misery are
apt to lead to grave local troubles, the people looking upon such a
visitation as a direct intimation that the Emperor, as represented by
the local officials, had incurred the displeasure of heaven and lost
the confidence of the gods. This feeling makes for rebellion, and
rebellion in China, when it is faced by Government, is dealt with in a
manner so ruthless as to make one shudder.
In 1903 a famine with the usual concomitants developed in the province
of Kwangsi, and harrowing descriptions of the condition of affairs
came to Hong Kong, where a relief committee was formed at once. An
official was sent up on behalf of the committee to inquire and report,
and on his return he gave an account of what he had seen. A
troublesome rebellion had broken out, and in the course of its
suppression many prisoners had been taken. These wretches, with large
numbers of criminals, were being executed, a general gaol delivery
being thus effected, the magistrate holding that as there was not
enough food for honest people none could be spared for criminals. The
starving population had been reduced to such extremity that they were
eating the bodies. At the same time the authorities and the gentry
were doing everything in their power to relieve the suffering of the
people; but all were miserably poor, and no taxes were being
collected. The Hong Kong Relief Committee's representative, who had
taken a first consignment of rice with him, was offered every
facility by the magistrate, who not alone gave him a guard, but sent a
launch to tow the rice junk up the river, sending a guard with it. The
state of brutality to which the community had been reduced was shown
by the following occurrence related to the representative by one of
his guards, who told the story with an evident feeling that the
incident redounded to the credit of the "party of order." A short time
before, information having reached the local authority of the
whereabouts of a "robber family," a party, including the narrator,
went to the village and seized the entire family. The man they cut
open, took out the entrails, cooked and ate them in the presence of
the dying wretch. They cut the breasts off the woman, cooked and ate
them in the same way. The woman he described as sobbing during the
operation. The two were then killed. As the "soldiers" did not care to
kill the children themselves, they handed knives to a number of
surrounding children, who hacked the little ones to death.
[Illustration]
This is a lurid story, but the sequel shows that even in China danger
lurks in too ferocious exercise of despotic power, however well
intended. The magistrate was unceasing in his efforts to cope with the
famine, with the added troubles of a rebellion, in fighting which the
advantage was not always with his troops. Rice was being poured into
the famine districts by committees established in Hong Kong and
Canton, and every assistance that could be given was afforded to them
by the magistrate, who was an educated gentleman and apparently full
of pity for the famishing people. His unvarying civility to the
working members of the Hong Kong committee who were engaged in the
distribution was at the close of their proceedings duly and gratefully
acknowledged; but the warm thanks of the committee never reached him.
A new viceroy had been appointed to Canton, who, on proceeding to the
famine district to make personal inquiry, found that the magistrate
had not been just, but had executed as criminals innocent people,
among them being a secret agent sent up by the viceroy in advance to
inquire into the real state of affairs. On finding this he degraded
the magistrate, who thereupon committed suicide. When one reads of the
reckless ferocity with which life was taken it is astonishing that he
was not put an end to by poison long before the interference of the
viceroy; for poisoning is not unknown, the plant named in China
muk-tong being used. It is inodorous and tasteless, but if boiled in
water used for tea it is almost certain death.
[Illustration]
The life of the coast cities where East meets West is full of
interest. Every treaty port has its foreign concession, where the
consuls reign supreme, and a Western system of police and municipal
arrangements is adopted. Tientsin, Shanghai, Ningpo, Fuchow, Amoy, and
Canton, as well as the Yangtze ports, all have on their borders large
areas over which the Chinese Government has abandoned its territorial
rights, and all offences or disputes are dealt with in European
magistrates' or consular courts with the exception of Shanghai, where
for certain offences the cases are tried in a mixed court, under the
jurisdiction of a Chinese and a European magistrate. The sudden
contrast from the foreign concession at Shanghai to the Chinese city
is most striking; on the one side a splendid bund along the river
bank, well kept public gardens, an excellent police force (mounted and
foot), broad streets in which are fine shops displaying the newest
European patterns, well appointed gharries standing on their appointed
ranks for hire at moderate fares, and for the poorer Chinese the
ubiquitous Chinese wheelbarrow--mentioned by Milton--that is palpably
the one-wheeled progenitor of the Irish jaunting-car. The axle of the
barrow is in the centre, the large wheel working in a high well on
either side of which are two seats. There is no weight on the handles
when the legs are lifted; the barrow coolie has therefore only to
preserve the balance and push. These barrows are used everywhere in
the Yangtze region, and are suitable for carrying heavy loads over
interior tracks too narrow for two wheels. In Shanghai they are not
alone used for transport of heavy burdens, but form the usual means of
locomotion for the Chinese of the labouring class who prefer the
luxury of driving to walking. In the morning, as in the evening, when
going to work or coming from it, as many as six people may be seen
sitting three a side and being pushed along by one coolie with
apparent ease, or now and again one or two men on one side are
balanced by a large pig tied on the other.
[Illustration]
Along the river front, where the bund is prolonged into Chinese
territory, the Western influence is seen in the police arrangements,
Chinese police, or "lukongs," being similarly attired as their Chinese
brethren in the "Settlements." But inside the walls the scene changes,
and the Chinese city is found, simple but not pure, as Shanghai city
is among the very dirtiest in all China. Yet it has its picturesque
and somewhat imposing spots near the great temples. Outside the city
bounds is the usual burial-place, on the border of the flat plain that
surrounds Shanghai. Here the custom is to deposit the coffins on the
ground, the tombs being sometimes built of brick, or the coffin being
covered with thatch, while in some cases the coffins are simply left
upon the ground without any covering. It must be explained that the
Chinese coffin is a peculiarly solid case, built in a peculiar manner
with very thick slabs of wood In every direction are peach orchards,
which when in blossom present as beautiful a sight as the famed cherry
blossom of Japan. All around the plain is intersected with deep
drains, the muddy bottoms of which the sporting members of the
Shanghai Hunt Club now and again make involuntary acquaintance. The
position of Shanghai, situated as it is near the mouth of the Yangtze,
marks it out as the future emporium of the commerce of Central China,
through which must ebb and flow the ever-growing trade of nine of the
eighteen provinces of the Middle Kingdom. The social intercourse
between the foreign and the Chinese communities is very restricted, a
restriction that cannot be laid entirely at the door of either side;
but until the division becomes less clearly and sharply marked there
can be no well grounded prospect of such community of feeling as will
make trade relations comfortable, when the now blinking eyes of the
sleeping giant have fully opened and he realizes his strength and
power to command attention to his demand for reciprocal rights among
the great nations of the earth.
[Illustration]
To a foreigner the most impressive city in China is Canton, with its
teeming population and intense activity. The foreign settlement of
Shameen lies along the bank of the Pearl River, and on the land side
is surrounded by a canal, the only entrance to the settlement being
over two carefully guarded bridges. Here everything is purely
Western--Western architecture, Western lawns, Western games; the flags
of all the foreign nations fly over their respective consulates; and
but for the Chinese domestics that one sees here and there, one might,
if he turned his gaze from the river, with its maze of junks and boats
of every kind, forget that he was not walking in the wealthy
residential suburb of a European town. But once over the bridge and
past the solid rows of stores--once the godowns of the European
hongs--every trace of European influence is gone, and we enter through
the city walls into a scene such as has existed in Chinese cities for
centuries. The streets vary in width from six to ten feet, and are all
flagged with granite slabs, and in these narrow streets is a dense
mass of blue-robed Chinese, all intent upon business except when a
foreigner enters into a shop to make a purchase, which always attracts
a curious and observing crowd. Narrow as are the streets, the effect
is still more contracted by the hanging sign-boards, painted in
brilliant colours and sometimes gilt letters, that hang outside each
shop. These sign-boards are sometimes ten to twelve feet long, and
each trade has its own particular colouring and shape. The effect
of the sign-boards, the colour of the open shops, and the gay lanterns
that hang at almost every door, is very fine, and gives an idea of
wealth and artistic sentiment. Every shop removes its shutters in the
morning, and as there are usually no windows, the effect is that of
moving through an immense bazaar, in which every known trade is being
carried on, while the wares are being sold at an adjoining counter. In
one shop will be found the most expensive silks and other stuffs, or
rather in a row of shops, for each particular business affects certain
parts of the street. Thus at one end may be a succession of shops with
the most delicate and beautiful commodities, while the continuation is
devoted to butchers' stalls, or fishmongers', the sudden transition
being proclaimed to every sense, and outraging our feeling of the
fitness of things. In the shops will be seen men at work upon the
beautiful fans for which Canton is famed; in another the shoemaker or
the hatter ply their more homely trade. Tailors, stocking-makers,
carpenters, blacksmiths, all are diligently at work, while here and
there, poring carefully over a piece of jewellery or brass or silver
work, may be seen the feather-worker attaching the delicate patterns
made with the brilliant feathers of the kingfisher, the work being so
minute that young men and boys only can do it, and so trying that
their eyesight can only stand it for about two years. At the corners
of the streets are seen tea-houses, the entire front being elaborately
carved from ground to roof and glittering with brilliant gilding.
Ivory-cutters carry on their trade, and jade and porcelain are
displayed. A great feature in many of the streets is the bird shops,
filled with singing birds or birds of brilliant plumage, of which the
Chinese are very fond, wealthy Chinese gentlemen giving sometimes
large sums for ivory cages for their favourites. In places the streets
are covered for short distances. These gay shops are not usually found
in the side streets, where the rougher trades--the butcher, the
fishmonger, and the greengrocer--predominate. In these particular
streets the smells are to European sense simply abominable, but
appreciation or otherwise of smells is possibly a racial as well as an
individual peculiarity. Among us musk is the delight of some and the
horror of others.
[Illustration: A CHINESE GIRL.]
[Illustration]
Although too narrow for wheeled traffic, the noise of the streets is
considerable, as coolies, carrying great baskets of goods or perhaps
vegetables, shout panting warnings to the crowd, and all must make way
for the laden coolie. Now and again a mandarin rides past, attended by
his servants, or is carried in his official chair, when everybody
makes way for him with the most surprising alacrity. It is easy to
see that the people recognize the all but despotic power that always
notes the officials of a practically democratic community. The general
idea that strikes a stranger when going for the first time through
these narrow streets with their dense crowds is one of awe, feeling as
if enmeshed in the labyrinths of a human ant-hill, from which there
could be no hope of escape if the crowd made any hostile movement. But
the interests of Canton are not exhausted in her crowded streets, with
the marvellous absence of any jostling--the chair coolies never
touching anybody with their chairs, even though they fill up half the
width of the streets--for there are the various temples that have been
described _ad nauseam_; the water clock that has been going for over
six centuries; the mint, where the Government produces from time to
time coins of not always clearly determined fineness; and the City of
the Dead, where for a moderate payment an apartment may be engaged, in
which a deceased member of a family can be accommodated until such
time as the geomancer can find an auspicious position for the grave.
Some of these apartments, which are all kept admirably clean, have
tables on which are left the pipe of the inmate, while paper figures
stand by to hand him, if necessary, the spiritual aroma of his
favourite food when alive.
[Illustration]
The guild-houses of Canton are well built and richly ornamented
structures. These guild-houses are the club-houses of various
provinces, or the local club of the members of different trades. Even
the beggars have their guild in Canton, where strange members of that
ancient and honourable profession may obtain accommodation, and
permission to ply their occupation as mendicants on payment of a fee.
Every beggar so licensed carries a badge, bearing which he has the
right to enter a shop and demand alms. Among the procession of
mandarins with their brilliant entourage who assembled to meet Liu Kun
Yi, the viceroy at Nanking, on his return from Peking, in 1900, was
the mandarin head of the beggars. He was arrayed in the correct and
rich robes of his rank, and had his place in the procession exactly as
the other mandarins, who were each surrounded or followed by their
staff and their troops. The mandarin of the beggars' guild was carried
in his official chair, and around him and following him was the most
extraordinary and motley crowd of beggars, all in their workaday rags
and tatters. Had they but arms of any sort they might have given
points to Falstaff's ragged regiment. Every shopkeeper is visited at
least once daily by a member of the fraternity, and whether by law or
by custom he must contribute some small amount. The system is possibly
a form of outdoor relief, and if one but knew its inner working it
would probably be found to be a fairly satisfactory solution of a
difficulty that is exercising the wits of anxious social investigators
in England.
If the shopkeeper refuses to submit to the customary demand he may
find a beggar, afflicted with some loathsome disease, seated at the
door of his shop, where he will remain until the honour of the guild
has been satisfied by a suitable donation, for there will be no stern
policeman to order the persistent beggar to move on. One of the most
painful sights that I have ever seen was a collection of lepers who
had been allowed to take possession of a small dry patch in the middle
of a deep swamp in the new territory of Kowloon. The only entrance was
by a narrow path roughly raised over the swamp level. Here they had
constructed huts from pieces of boxes, through which the rain entered
freely. Each morning the miserable creatures dragged themselves to the
neighbouring villages, the inhabitants of which charitably placed rice
for them before their doors. I have never seen a more miserable
collection of human beings. I had proper huts erected for them on
neighbouring high ground, where at least they were free from the
danger of being flooded out, and had shelter from rain and wind. There
is a regular leper hospital in Canton.
[Illustration]
It must not be assumed that Canton is entirely a town of retail
shops, for there are many important factories there, some of the
houses of business covering large areas, where hundreds of men are
employed in the various manufactures. Crowded as is the business part
of the city, one wonders that it is not devastated by fire; but over
every shop vessels of water are kept upon the roof, ready for instant
service. The value of land is very great, the average value being
fourteen dollars a square foot, which is roughly about sixty thousand
pounds per acre. But the narrow streets of Canton can be very imposing
when a high foreign official is paying a visit of ceremony to the
viceroy. On one side of the street is a continuous line of
soldiers--the streets are too narrow for a double line--each company
with its banner, while the other side is occupied by a dense crowd
that fills the shops and stands silently to see the procession of
official chairs go by. The streets are not alone swept, but carefully
washed, so that they are perfectly clean. At each ward-gate is
stationed half a dozen men with long trumpets, like those upon which
Fra Angelico's angels blew their notes of praise, and from these
trumpets two long notes are sounded--one high, the other low. In the
courtyard of the viceroy's yamen is stationed a special guard of about
one hundred and fifty men, richly dressed and carrying such arms as
one sees in very old Chinese pictures--great curved blades on long
poles, tridents, etc.--while thirty or forty men stand with banners
of purple, yellow, blue, or red silk, each some twelve feet square,
mounted on poles at least twenty feet long. The effect is singularly
picturesque. The viceroy's yamen is situated more than a mile from the
river, so that a large number of troops are required to line the
streets. The yamen is surrounded by an extensive park, in which is
some good timber. Another fine park surrounds the building once
occupied by the British Consul, but now used by the cadets of the
Straits Settlements and Hong Kong, who on appointment to the Colonies
are sent for two years to Canton, there to study Chinese.
[Illustration]
However busy the high official in China may be, his daily life is
passed in quiet, if not in peace. With him there are no distracting
sounds of street traffic, no hoot of motor-cars, no roar and rumble of
motor-omnibuses, no earthquake tremors from heavy cart traffic. The
streets are too narrow for this, and the yamen and the office are
separated from any possible interference with business by street
noises. The business of the yamen is, however, rarely done in
solitude, for the yamen "runners," as the crowd of lictors and
messengers are called, overrun the entire place, and the most
important conversations are carried on in the presence of pipe-bearers
and other personal attendants, to say nothing of curious outsiders,
that almost precludes the possibility of inviolable secrecy. It is
possible that where foreigners are not mixed up in the matter there
may not be so many anxious listeners, but there are few things about a
yamen that are not known by those whose interest it is to know them.
The official proceeds with his work upon lines that have been deeply
grooved by custom, and however energetic he may be, he is careful not
to make violent changes, nor will he hastily leave the beaten track.
As a rule, no community becomes violently agitated by inaction on the
part of a government or of an official, however much it may be
deprecated. In China the only fear in such a case would be from the
action of the censors, who are appointed in various parts of the
empire, and who have proved by their denunciation of even the highest
officials for sins of omission, as well as commission, that China
possesses among her officials men whose fearlessness and independence
are equal to that of men of other races, whose honoured names have
come down to us in song and story.
[Illustration: JUNKS AT EVENTIDE.]
[Illustration]
The rigid etiquette of China preserves a dignity in the conduct of all
public business, and it is against the first principles of an educated
Chinaman to use rough or harsh terms that would be considered vulgar.
The written language is so capable of different interpretations that
in treaties with China, which are generally written in three
languages--Chinese, French or English--and the language of the
contracting countries, it is always stipulated that in construing the
terms of the treaty one of the two languages, not the Chinese, is to
be taken as interpreting its true meaning. This does not necessarily
infer dishonest intentions on the part of the Chinese; but the fact is
that as each one of the many thousands of Chinese characters may mean
more than one thing, the real meaning has sometimes to be inferred
from the context, so that there are peculiar difficulties attending
the close and accurate interpretation of a treaty or dispatch. It is
popularly supposed that Sir Robert Hart and Sir J. McLeavy Brown are
the only foreigners who have complete mastery of the art of writing
Chinese so as to ensure the accurate expression of the meaning to be
conveyed. The yamen of a high official, with his residence, covers a
large area, as no house is built more than one story high. Such a
building might by its dominating height interfere disastrously with
the _fung sui_ of even a city, and is always bitterly resented. The
steeples of churches have something to answer for in this way in
keeping alive the spirit of antagonism fostered by the daily
maledictions of the Chinese, who bear patiently with submission rather
than acquiescence the presence of a dominant foreign influence that,
if they have any living superstition on the subject, must convey to
them an impression of evil. The yamen usually consists of a series of
courtyards, off which are built the apartments for the numerous staff
as well as the private apartments of the family, and in one of these,
when the business of the day is concluded, the official receives the
visits of his friends and smokes the calumet of peace, or plays one of
those complicated games of Chinese chess to whose intricate rules and
moves our game of chess is simplicity itself. Sometimes after his work
he indulges in his pipe of opium, after the manner of our own
three-bottle men of the last century. The late Liu Kun Yi, the able
Viceroy of Nanking, who with Chang Chi Tung, his neighbouring viceroy,
kept the Yangtze provinces quiet through the Boxer troubles was a
confirmed opium-smoker. But one thing he never does--he never hurries.
Haste is to him undignified, and he eschews it. In his official
dealings he will adopt methods that would not pass muster in our
courts; but from the Emperor to the coolie those methods are
understood and accepted. Much might be written on the ethics of what
we call official corruption; but let the facts be what they may, the
people understand the system, the Government understand it, and there
is no popular demonstration against it. Nor must we forget that
official "irregularity" is not unknown outside China.
The social side of the life of a Chinese mandarin is not confined to
his own yamen. He is fond of visiting his friends and engaging in
intellectual conversation over a friendly cup of tea--and such tea! We
have no idea in Europe of the exquisite delicacy of the best Chinese
tea as prepared by a Chinese host. The tea is made by himself, the
leaves being only allowed to remain in the freshly boiled water for
four or five minutes. It is then poured into cups of delicate
porcelain, about the size of a liqueur glass, and sipped without the
addition of milk or sugar. After the tea has been drunk, the aroma of
the cup is enjoyed. The perfume is delicious.
[Illustration]