hostess--accompanied by two of the leading guests, descended into the
paved court and took her place before the altar. Deep-toned bells were
touched by small boys whose shaven heads and priestly robes denoted
that they, like little Samuel, were being brought up within the courts
of the temple. The Princess took a great bunch of incense in her two
hands, one of her attendants lit it with a torch prepared for that
purpose, the flame and smoke ascended amid the deep tones of the bells,
as she prostrated herself before the goddess. She looked like a
beautiful fairy herself as she stood with the flaming bunch of incense
held high above her head. Three times she prostrated herself and nine
times she bent forward, fulfilling all the requirements of the law.
At the close of this ceremony the ladies were invited to partake of a
feast prepared wholly of vegetables and vegetable oils. It requires
much more skill to prepare such a feast than when meat and animal oils
are used. The food furnished interesting topics for discussion. Most of
it was prepared by various temples, each being celebrated for some
particular dish, which it was asked to provide for the occasion.
It is not uncommon for a Chinese lady to take upon herself a vow in
which she promises the gods to observe certain days of each month as
fast days, on condition that they restore to health a mother, father,
husband or child. No matter what banquet she attends she need only
mention to her hostess that she has a vow and she is made the chief
guest, helping others but eating nothing herself. After this full month
feast the baby was seen, its presents admired, the last cup of tea
drunk, the farewells said, and we all returned home.
[3] The remainder of the chapter is from Mrs. Headland's note-book.
XVII
The Chinese Ladies--Their Ills
My home is girdled by a limpid stream,
And there in summer days life's movements pause,
Save where some swallow flits from beam to beam,
And the wild sea-gull near and nearer draws.
The good wife rules a paper board for chess;
The children beat a fish-hook out of wire;
My ailments call for physic more or less,
What else should this poor frame of mine require?
--"Tu Fu," Translated.
XVII
THE CHINESE LADIES--THEIR ILLS[4]
[4] Taken from Mrs. Headland's note-book.
One day a eunuch dashed into the back gate of our compound in Peking,
rode up to the door of the library, dismounted from his horse, and
handed a letter in a red envelope to the house servant who met him on
the steps.
"What is the matter?" asked the boy.
"The Princess is ill," replied the servant.
"What Princess?" further inquired the boy.
"Our Princess," was the reply.
"Oh, you are from the palace near the west gate?"
"Yes," and the boy and the servant continued their conversation until
the former had learned all that the letter contained, whereupon he
brought me the message.
I opened the letter, written in the Chinese ideographs, and called the
messenger in.
"Is the Princess very ill?" I inquired.
"Not very," he answered, "but she has been indisposed for several days."
"When does she want me to go?" I inquired, for I had long ago learned
that a few inquiries often brought out interesting and valuable
information.
"At once," he answered; "the cart will be here in a few minutes."
By the time I had made ready my medical outfit the cart had arrived. It
was very much like a great Saratoga trunk on two wheels. It was without
seat and without springs, but filled with thick cushions, and as I had
learned to sit tailor fashion it was not entirely uncomfortable to ride
in. It had gauze curtains in summer, and was lined with quilted silk or
fur in winter, and was a comfortable conveyance.
When I reached the palace I was met by the head eunuch, who conducted
me at once to the apartments of the Princess. Her reception room was
handsomely furnished with rich, carved, teak-wood furniture after the
Manchu fashion, with one or two large, comfortable, leather-covered
easy chairs of foreign make. Clocks sat upon the tables and
window-sills, and fine Swiss watches hung on the walls. Beautiful jade
and other rich Chinese ornaments were arranged in a tasteful way about
the room. On the wall hung a picture painted by the Empress Dowager, a
gift to the Prince on his birthday.
After a moment's waiting the Princess appeared attended by her women
and slave girls.
"I beg your pardon for not having my hair properly dressed," she said,
as she took my hands in hers, the custom of these Manchu princesses and
even the Empress Dowager herself, in greeting foreign ladies. "I
welcome you back to Peking after your summer vacation."
When the usual salutations had been passed she told me her trouble and
I gave her the proper medicine, with minute instructions as to how to
take it, which I also repeated to her women.
"The cause of my illness," she explained, "is over-fatigue. I had to be
present at court on the eighth of the eighth month and I became very
tired from standing all day."
"But could you not sit down?" I asked.
"Not in the presence of the Empress Dowager," she replied.
"Of course, I know you could not sit down in the presence of Her
Majesty, but could you not withdraw and rest a while?" I inquired.
"Not that day. It was a busy and tiresome day for us all," she replied.
While we were talking the young Princess, her son's wife, came in and
greeted her mother-in-law in a formal but kindly way, and gave her
hands to me just as the Princess had done. She remained standing all
the time she was in the room, as did four of the secondary princesses
or wives of her husband. They were all beautifully dressed, but they
are beneath the Princess in rank, and so must stand in her presence. If
the Prince's mother had come in, as she often did when I was there, the
Princess would have to stand and wait on her. All Manchu families are
very particular in this respect.
"You will be interested," said the Princess, "in one phase of our visit
to the palace." Then turning to one of her women she said: "Bring me
those two pairs of shoes."
"These," she explained, "are like some made by my mother-in-law and
myself as presents for the Empress Dowager. On the eighth of the eighth
month we have a feast, when the ladies of the royal household are
invited into the palace, and our custom is for each of us to present
Her Majesty with a pair of shoes."
The shoes were daintily embroidered, though not so pretty as some I
have seen the Empress Dowager wear. Some of her shoes are decorated
with beautiful pearls and others are covered with precious stones.
"The Empress Dowager," continued the Princess, "is very vain of her
small feet; though," she continued, as she put her own foot out,
encased in the daintiest little embroidered slipper of light-blue
satin, "it is not so small as my own."
It seemed very human to hear this delicate little Princess make a
remark of this kind. Of course, both she and the Empress Dowager have
natural feet.
It was late in the afternoon, some months after my visit to the
Princess, that a very different call came for my services.
The boy came in and told me that a man wanted me to go to see his wife,
who lived in the southern city outside the Ha-ta gate. It has always
been my custom never to refuse any one whether they be rich or poor,
and so I told him to call a cart.
It was in midwinter and a bitter cold night, the room was without fire
and yet there was a child of three or four toddling about upon the kang
or brick bed whose only garment was a long coat.
"You should put a pair of trousers on that child," I said, "or it will
catch cold and I will soon have to come again."
"Yes," they said, "we will put trousers on it."
"You had better do it at once," I insisted.
"Yes," they continued, "we will see that it is dressed."
After attending to the woman, and again urging them to dress the child,
I wrapped my warm cloak around me and started home, though I could not
forget the child.
"It is a cold night," I said to the driver as we started on our way.
"Yes," he answered, "there will be some uncomfortable people in the
city to-night."
"In that house we just left," I continued, for I could not banish the
child from my thoughts, "there was a little child playing on the bed
without a shred of trousers on."
"Quite right," said he; "they pawned the trousers of that child to get
money to pay me for taking you to see the sick woman."
"To pay you!" said I, with indignation, and yet with admiration for the
character of the people for whom I was giving my services--"to pay you!
Then drive right back and give them their money and tell them to go and
redeem those trousers and put them on the child!"
"The city gate will be closed before we can reach it if I return," said
he, "and we will not be able to get in to-night."
"No matter about that," I insisted, "go back and give them the money."
He turned around with many mutterings, lashed up his mule at the top of
his speed, gave them the money, and then started on a gallop for the
city gate. It was a rough ride in that springless cart over the rutty
roads. But my house seemed warmer that night and my bed seemed softer
after I had paid the carter myself.
Among my friends and patients none are more interesting than the Misses
Hsu. They are very intelligent, and after I had become well acquainted
with them I said to them one day:
"How is it that you have done such wide reading?"
"You know, of course," they said, "that our father is a chuang yuan."
I asked them the meaning of a chuang yuan. Then I learned that under
the Chinese system a great many students enter the examinations, and
those who secure their degree are called hsiu tsai; a year or two later
these are examined again, and those who pass are given the degree of
chu jen; once more these latter are examined and the successful
candidates are called chin shih, and are then ready for official
position. They continue to study, however, and are allowed to go into
the palace, where they are examined in the presence of the Emperor, and
those who pass are called han lin, or forest of pencils. Once in three
years these han lins are examined and one is allowed to obtain a
degree--he is a chuang yuan.
Out of four hundred million people but one is allowed this degree once
in three years.
"Your father must be a very great scholar," I remarked.
"He has always been a diligent student," they answered, modestly.
"What is his given name?" I inquired, one day.
"If you will give me a pencil I will write it for you; we never speak
the given name of our father in China," said the eldest, and she wrote
it down.
"How many sisters are there in your family--eight, are there not?"
"Yes. You know, of course, that number five was engaged when a child of
six to the son of Li Hung-chang."
"No, I was not aware of the fact; and were they married?"
"No, they were never married. The young man died before they were old
enough to wed. When word of his death was brought to her, child that
she was, she went to our mother and told her she must never engage her
to any one else, as she meant to live and die the widow of this boy."
"And did she go to Li Hung-chang's home?"
"No, the old Viceroy wanted to take her to his home, build a suite of
rooms for her, and treat her as his daughter-in-law, but our parents
objected because she was so young. The Viceroy loved her very much, and
his eyes often filled with tears as he spoke of her and the son who had
passed away. When the Viceroy died she wanted to go and kotow at his
funeral, and all his family except the eldest son were anxious to have
her do so, and thus be recognized as one of the family. But this son
objected, and though Lady Li knocked her head on the coffin until it
bled he would not yield, lest she might want her portion."
"And what has become of your sister? How is it that I have never seen
her?"
"She withdrew to a small court, where she has lived with none but her
women servants, not even seeing our father or brothers, and not
allowing a male servant to go near her. And she will not permit the
word Li to be spoken in her presence."
"And what does she do?" I asked. "How does she employ herself?"
"Studying, reading, painting, and embroidery. When young Li refused to
allow her to attend his father's funeral her sense of self-respect was
outraged and she cut off her hair and threatened to commit suicide. She
often fasts for a week, and has tried on several occasions to take her
own life."
I asked them if they did not fear that she might succeed finally in
this attempt to kill herself.
"Yes, we have constant apprehensions. But then, what if she did? It
would only emphasize her virtue."
It was some months after the young ladies told me what I have just
related that they called, for they had taken up the study of English
and I had agreed to help them a bit.
"How is your sister?" I inquired, for the sad fate of this young girl
weighed like a burden on my heart.
"She fasted more than usual during the early summer, but she bathed
daily and changed her clothes, dressing herself in her most beautiful
garments. She had not been sleeping well for some time, and one day she
ordered her women to leave her and not return until they were called.
They remained away until a married sister and a sister-in-law-a niece
of Li Hung-chang--called and wanted to see her. We went to her room but
found it locked. We knocked but received no answer. We finally punched
a hole through the paper window and saw her sitting on her brick bed,
her head bolstered up with cushions and her eyes closed. We supposed
she was sleeping, but on forcing open the door we found that she had
gone to join her boy husband, though her colour and appearance was that
of a living person."
"And are you sure she had not swooned?"
"She remained in this condition for twenty-two hours without pulse or
heart beat, and so we put her in her casket."
I could not but feel sad that I had not been in the city, and had had
an opportunity to help them to ascertain whether her life had really
gone out. But the girls seemed proud of the distinction of having had a
sister of such consummate virtue. Numerous embroidered scrolls and
laudatory inscriptions were sent her from friends of the Li family as
well as of their own, and it is expected that the throne will order a
memorial arch erected to her memory.
On another occasion I was requested to go to the palace of one of the
princes. The fourth Princess, a beautiful little child of five, was ill
with diphtheria, and the first greeting of the mother as I went in was
that she "was homesick to see me." The child had been ill for several
days before they sent for me, and I told them at once that the case was
dangerous. I wanted to do all I could for them and at the same time
protect my own children from the danger of infection. After the first
treatment with antitoxin she seemed to rally, her throat cleared up,
but I soon found that the poison had pervaded her entire system, and so
I stayed with her day and night.
I found that the child had contracted the disease from another about
her own age, who was both her playmate and her slave. It is the custom
among the wealthy to purchase for each daughter a companion who plays
with her as a child, becomes a companion in youth and her maid when she
marries. These slaves are usually treated well, and when this one
became ill the members of the family visited her often, taking her such
dainties as might tempt her appetite. As a result I had to administer
antitoxin to eight of the younger members of the household, so careless
had they been about the spread of this disease; indeed I have found
that the isolation of patients suffering from contagious diseases is
wholly unknown in China.
One of the most attractive of all my Chinese lady friends and patients
is the niece of the great Viceroy, Li Hung-chang, the daughter of his
brother, Li Han-chang, who is himself a viceroy. I have been her
physician for eighteen years or more and hence have become intimately
acquainted with her. She has visited me very often in my home and, of
all the women I have ever known, of any race or people, I have never
met one whom I thought more cultured or refined than she. This may seem
a strange statement, but the quiet dignity that she manifested on all
occasions and her charming manners are not often met with. I have never
felt on entering a drawing-room such an atmosphere of refinement as
seemed to surround her.
That the Chinese take very kindly to foreign medicine there is no
doubt, though it is sometimes amusing how they go back to their own
native methods.
One day my husband brought home a physiological chart about the size of
an ordinary man. It was covered with black spots and I asked him the
reason for them.
"That is what I asked the dealer from whom I bought it," he replied,
"and he told me that those spots indicate where the needle can be
inserted in treatment by acupuncture without killing the patient."
When a Chinese is ill the doctor generally concludes that the only way
to cure him is to stick a long needle into him and let out the pain or
set up counter irritation. If the patient dies it is evident he stuck
the needle into the wrong spot. And this chart has been made up from
millions of experiments during the past two or three thousand years
from patients who have died or recovered.
This was practically illustrated by a woman who was brought to the
hospital. Having had pain in the knee she sent for a Chinese physician
who concluded that the only method of relieving her was by acupuncture.
He therefore inserted a needle which unfortunately pierced the synovial
sac causing inflammation which finally resulted in complete destruction
of the joint. Such cases are not infrequent both among adults and
children in all grades of society, due to this method of treatment.
One day I was called to see a lady who was in immediate need of
surgical treatment. She had three sons who were in high official
positions in the palace, and if their mother died they would have to
withdraw from official life and go into mourning for three years. When
men are thus compelled to resign the new incumbent is not inclined to
restore the office when the period of mourning is over. They were
therefore doubly anxious to have their mother recover. They had tried
all kinds of Chinese physicians and finally sent for me.
I explained the nature of the operation necessary, and gave them every
reason to hope for a speedy recovery, while without surgical treatment
she must surely die. They consented and the operation was successful.
She recovered rapidly for a few days until I regarded her as
practically out of danger. But one day when I called I found her bathed
in perspiration, shaking with fear, weeping and depressed. Her wound
was in an excellent condition and I could find no reason for her
despondency. I cheered her up, laughed and talked with her, gave her
such articles of diet as she craved, and left her happy. The next day I
again found her in the same nervous condition.
"Something is wrong with your mother of which you have not told me," I
said to her son.
"Before we sent for you," he said, "we had called a spirit doctor, who
went into a sort of trance, claimed to have descended into the spirit
world where he saw them making a coffin which he said my mother would
occupy before the fifteenth of the month. It is because that time is
approaching that she is filled with fear."
I talked with the lady, showed her how her wound was healing,
encouraged her to rest easy until the fifteenth, when I would spend the
day with her, after which she immediately began gaining strength and
soon recovered.
At another time I was called to see the wife of the president of the
Board of Punishments. I found an operation necessary. The next day I
found the patient delirious with a fever, and asked the husband if my
directions had been followed.
"I assure you they have," he answered. "But the cause of the fever is
this: Last evening while the servants were taking their meal she was
left alone for a short time. While they were absent, her sister who
lived on this street, a short distance from here, committed suicide.
When the servant discovered it she ran directly to my wife's room, and
told her of the tragedy. My wife began to tremble, had a severe chill,
and soon became delirious. I suspect that her sister's spirit
accompanied the servant and entered my wife."
In spite of this explanation I cleaned and dressed the wound and left
her more comfortable. The next morning she was somewhat better, without
fever and in her right mind.
"What kind of a night did she have?" I asked her husband.
"Oh, very good," he answered. "I managed to get the spirit out of her."
"How did you do it?" I inquired.
"Soon after you left yesterday, I dressed myself in my official
garments, came into my wife's apartments, and asked the spirit if it
would not like to go with me to the yamen, adding that we would have
some interesting cases to settle. I felt a strange sensation come over
me and I knew the spirit had entered me. I got into my cart, drove down
to the home of my sister-in-law, went in where the corpse lay, and told
the spirit that it would be a disgrace to have a woman at the Board of
Punishments. 'This is your place,' I said, in an angry voice; 'get out
of me and stay where you belong.' I felt the spirit leaving me, my
fingers became stiff and I felt faint. I had only been at the Board a
short time when they sent a servant to tell me that my wife was quiet
and sleeping. When I returned in the evening the fever was gone and she
was rational."
XVIII
The Funeral Ceremonies of a Dowager Princess
There are five degrees of mourning, as follows:--For parents,
grandparents and great-grandparents; for brothers and sisters; for
uncles and aunts; and for distant relatives. In the first sackcloth
without hem or border; in the second with hem or border; in the third,
fourth and fifth, pieces of sackcloth on parts of the dress. When
sackcloth is worn, after the third interval of seven days is over the
mourners can cast it off, and wear plain colours, such as white, gray,
black and blue. For a parent the period is nominally three years, but
really twenty-seven months, during all which time no silk can be worn;
during this time officials have to resign their appointments, and
retire from public life.--Dyer Ball in "Things Chinese."
XVIII
THE FUNERAL CEREMONIES OF A DOWAGER PRINCESS[5]
[5] Taken from Mrs. Headland's note-book.
One day I received a large sheet of white paper on which was written in
Chinese characters the announcement of the death of the Dowager
Princess Su, and inviting me to the "third-day exercises." The real
meaning of this "chieh san" I did not comprehend, but I knew that those
who were invited sent presents of cakes or fruit, or baskets of paper
flowers, incense, gold and silver ingots made of paper, or rolls of
paper silk, all of which were intended for the use of the spirit of the
departed. The paper presents were all burned on the evening of the
third day, while the spirit feasted upon the flavour of the fruit and
cakes.
As I did not feel that it was appropriate for me to send these things,
I had a beautiful wreath of white chrysanthemum flowers made, and sent
that instead. While I appreciated the invitation, I thought it was
probably given only as a matter of form, and that I was not expected to
attend the exercises, and so I sent my Chinese maid with the wreath,
saying that as I did not understand their customs I would not go.
It was not long until the maid returned saying that they were anxious
to have me come, that under no circumstances must I refuse, as they
wished me to see their funeral ceremonies. The Princess sent her cart
for me, and according to the Chinese custom, I took my maid seated upon
the front, and set out for Prince Su's palace. As we neared our
destination we passed numerous carts and chairs of princes who had been
at the palace to pay their respects. The street leading off the great
thoroughfare was filled with carts, chairs, servants and outriders, but
the utmost order prevailed. There were scores of soldiers and special
police, the latter dressed in long garments of gray with a short jacket
of white on the breast of which was his number in black. These gray and
white uniforms were mourning colours, and were given by the Prince.