of the railway around the horseshoe bend of the Kwang Tung Peninsula,
but no commercial traffic is now brought lower down than Dalny. A
destroyed city indeed, a precious ice-free port of commerce and a
sunny bund of society, deserted by force of arms, a secret base and a
masked fort yet being silently strengthened. The fleet that holds the
Pacific holds Port Arthur at its will, and the hand that holds Port
Arthur can hold all China north of the Yangtze and up to the Amur River
in its iron grasp, if there is a will and an exchequer to launch the
force. Russia allowed commerce, travel and society to come with war to
Port Arthur. Japan only allows war to mark time here. True, the Yamato
Hotel is there yet, but it is exclusively for the garrison artillery
life of the little brown men who by edict of government have given up
sitting on mats that their legs may grow as tall as their minds and
ambitions, despite Matthew 6:27. Whether there are Anglo-Japanese,
Anglo-American, Sino-American, American-Japanese, Russo-Germanic,
Anglo-French, or Four-Nation alliances or entente cordiales, this
question will always come up: “Well, what about the deserted,
shell-swept city of the Far East, the masked and granite fort, Port
Arthur?”
What happened to Port Arthur can happen to any city of China north of
Hongkong, unless China is put on her feet and has an army of defense.
Under whose tutelage shall that force arise? Not a true man lives who
wants to see another Dead City of the East. There this one stands,
terrible to-day as eight years ago, the most terrific, oppressively
silent, shell-blown, mine-scarred, tunnel-cut, war-cursed, sap-seared,
skeleton-grinning, warped, agonized, Luciferian monument of bloody war
that the world exhibits. Tuck it away in the toe of the Tiger’s Tail
in far-away China, and let busy altruistic mankind, yellow and white,
forget it. Forget it! Yes! but I hear the hammering and riveting, the
cranking of the siege guns, the piling of the ammunition, the digging
and blasting of the deep docks still going on. In the midst of peace
and life we are yet in the midst of war and death. Yet the Dead City
of the Far East, in dying, won something for progress; it checked the
Russianization of China and the obliteration of China’s best son,
Japan; it prevented the clash of Britain and Russia, and the eventual
clash of America and Russia perhaps in the Philippines and Manchuria.
It loosened a little the ruthless hand of the Russian oligarchy upon
the neck of Dumas, and the Ochrana detectivization of the people.
In dying, it brought some dangers, too, that a not sufficiently
representative Japan would take the place of Russia in greed, and
bring altruistic America upon her fleet; for the American people,
loving freedom for all, and now writing text-books on that subject,
are committed by John Hay’s “non-partition of China” policy to seeing
that Japan stops her imperialistic expansion with the absorption of
Korea, and that China, the Mother of the East, is left to pursue her
new glorious destiny in peace, with no more of her sacred territory
imperiled, until she can put liberty in free stride from the hot
Tonquin border to the Amur’s ice-fringed rapids.
Newchwang, which means “ox depot”, is on the Liao River fifteen miles
from the sea, Jinkow being its port. The bar permits of eighteen-foot
draught, but could be dredged deeper. The river is icebound from
November till April. The exports are beans, bean cake, bean oil, gold,
silver, silk, black oxen, mutton, wool, wheat, kaoliang, little millet,
pulse, spirits, tobacco, paper, lumber, furs. Coal and iron would be
a heavy export if there was not railway discrimination on the part of
the Japanese. The imports are flour, machinery, cotton, etc. There is
an important foreign settlement, and foreign hongs should move their
advance posts here for the attack on Manchurian trade. The city was
invested by the Russians in 1898 and 1900, and the Japanese to-day are
almost as active, having linked the city by railway with their Dalny
line. They have established a Japanese settlement on the water-front,
with hotels, hospitals, tea-houses, banks, etc. The Chinese national
railways give a direct service north and south via Kinchow. Newchwang’s
commerce is fed by the immense fleet of 20,000 junks of the Liao River,
which gather cargo even north of Mukden. Perhaps the most celebrated
British consul and diplomatist who has been stationed here is the
author, A. H. Hosie. In the Japan-China War of 1894 a great battle was
fought at Newchwang.
Mukden, the home city of the Manchu race, lies one hundred miles
northeast of Newchang on the Shin River, a branch of the Liao River.
It has connection with the Japanese and Chinese railway systems,
and northward it connects with the Russian system. The stone and
brick-walled inner city is one mile across; the outer wall, with
eight double gates, is fourteen miles around, and there are important
suburbs. It is a smaller Peking in plan. East of Mukden there are
walled tombs of the Manchu emperors, and of Shun Chih and Narachu,
the founders of the dynasty, which tombs suffered in the Russo-Japan
War. A plain mound, with a growing tree upon it, covers the founder’s
tomb. Winged griffins guard the southern gateway, which is so stern
in architecture as hardly to suggest the Orient. There are the usual
pailoo memorial arches, rising on the backs of tortoises, and two
unique pillars with lions on top, which design is copied from the Ming
emperors, whose throne the Manchus ravaged. The north gate oddly is
single, and not triple in Chinese style, and is guarded by a plain,
two-roofed pagoda. The court is stone laid. The main avenue of the tomb
is guarded by monster statues of lions, camels, horses, elephants and
warriors. The ancestral temple contains a tortoise which bears the
tablets. Mourning houses, temples, stone screens and vases add to the
ensemble.
The old Chung Cheng yellow-tiled palace is at the south gate of the
city, and has been tenanted by notable and progressive viceroys, one
of whom attempted to reconcile the Eastern and Western religions. The
imperial palace, Wen So Ko, has the imperial library of 7,000 cases.
Its rich museum of priceless bronzes, vases, tapestries, etc., was
largely looted by the Manchu princes, who sold the treasures to the
curio collectors who flocked like vultures to Peking in the financial
troubles of the revolution. The Fei Lung Ko treasury is on the east
side and the Hsiang Feng Ko treasury is on the west side. There is a
modern Chinese commercial museum; the Yamato Hotel in the extensive
Japanese section; a Japanese railway medical college; an Astor Hotel;
a Chinese medical college; and the medical college of the Scotch
Presbyterians outside the east gate, with which the noted author,
Doctor J. Ross, is connected. Doctor Christie, of Mukden, was another
hero of the terrific pneumonic plague in Manchuria in 1910–11. The
usual favorite Fox Temple of the Manchu race is to be seen. There is
a Taoist Temple of Hell, with horrible statues. The Temple to the God
of Literature is the most beautiful in bare Manchuria, because of the
artistic proportion of its walls, galleries, roofs and stairs; but
the temple has little independent meaning, because the Manchus have
absolutely no original literature, possessing in their perpendicular
Syriac-like script only copies of Chinese literature.
Not only the Japanese are conspicuously in evidence; Russian droshkes
are pulled at the gallop and trot along the Meridian Street of the
Drum Tower. The unique tall shop signs are carved on pole and capital
not unlike Alaskan totem poles. Differently from the cities of South
China, many ponies and mules are seen on the street, and man is not
here, as in Middle and South China, the beast of burden. The best
frozen game, pork and mutton, and fish shops of China are in Mukden.
Outside each angle of the walls is a Lama monument. Mukden is famous
for its black pigs, many of which, frozen, are shipped to Liverpool and
London markets. The Japanese have erected fine railway, administration,
bank, school, etc., buildings in their settlement. The city has
telephone, telegraph, electric light, mail and water service. Wen
Hsiang, the most enlightened Manchu prince connected with international
dealings with China at Peking in the Victorian age, was a Mukden man,
and is buried near the east gate. The foreign settlement has the usual
clubs and churches, a brewery, and a large modern concrete factory
of the British-American Tobacco Company, for when opium went out the
cigarette came in, in disgusted Cathay! The Chinese hotel is the Hai
Tien Chun, near the entrance to the west gate. There are horse-tram
railways, electric trams, a Chinese provincial mint, and great fur,
skin and coal markets. Mukden will yet be a leading center for land,
mine, agricultural, machinery, food and clothing interchange of the
world, for rich, black-earth Manchuria is destined to be the granary of
more soil-impoverished countries of the Pacific than China.
XXII
NATIVE CITIES OF CHINA
Singan or Sian (meaning “Chinese”), the capital of Shensi province,
dates back to the twelfth century, B.C. The whole valley is full of
the monuments, mounds and relics of kings of many ancient dynasties.
As its name appropriately shows, Singan was the original capital of
China, when the tribes first united in mutual recognition of kinship,
and it is a shrine, therefore, appealing to antiquarians. Out on the
plain the Emperor Tsin, builder of the Great Wall, “burned the books”
of China, and buried the scholars under mounds of contumely. The most
remarkable pyramidal pagoda in China lies beyond the south wall. It
has seven stories, surmounted with a turban, and temple buildings with
rich screens are attached. To this city the Empress Dowager Tse Hsi
retreated from Peking in a springless cart over sunken loess roads
before the march of the European allies and the American column in
1900. Its walls and large forts, filled with ports, are the oldest and
best preserved of all Chinese cities.
The Bankers’ Guild building is famous for its many-pinnacled roof and
ornate tiling. Its monuments relate the intellectual communion of China
and India in the seventh century A. D. Very old buildings exhibit a
four-leaf clover design in stone screens, and the fish-scale design
in wooden and bamboo balustrades. There are wonderful gardens with
pavilions and wavy stone bridges. Pailoos, bearing legends, are built
over the entrance stairs to temples and guild houses. The square space
within the walls is six miles long each way. One reason for its strong
fortification is that it is in the Mohammedan section of China, and the
Mohammedans are always rebelling. It withstood a Mohammedan siege of
two years in 1870–1.
If Russia aimed to cut off eastern from western China, she would strike
at Singan, as it is the strategic base which holds Turkestan, Tibet and
Szechuen to the empire. Its trade is vast and various. From a religious
and antiquarian point of view, hardly any Chinese city equals it in the
interest of Occidentals, for here the famous Nestorian Tablet, dated
781 A.D., stands in the park of a heathen temple. This tablet records
the communion of the earliest Chinese Christians. A copy of this
supremely venerable and artistic stone was placed in the Metropolitan
Museum of Art, New York, in 1909. The National Library, Paris, has
had a replica since 1850. The Pei Lin Park contains a library cut in
1,300 stone tablets; the “Stone Forest”, it is called. The city lies
in a plain, and presents a striking appearance from the limestone
and loess hills which surround it. In these hills, to the northwest,
are cut the cave dwellings, temples and statues of prehistoric and
early civilizations. In one cave temple is the sandstone and gilt
colossal Ta-Fu-Tsze Buddha, fifty-six feet high, the largest statue
in China, showing the tremendous zeal of the Buddhist movement in the
brilliant Tang dynasty in the seventh century, when our Europe was in
intellectual darkness. Two colossal statues of Buddha’s pupils are also
in this temple.
The city presents a brilliant kaleidoscope of nationalities:
Mohammedans with red turbans, Tartars wearing red panels; Mongols with
blue turbans; high-booted, bewhiskered Russians; booted Tibetans;
blue-gowned Chinese; yellow-robed Lamas; now and then a top-knotted
aborigine; robed Manchus; and descendants of the original Tsin and
Chou tribes of Chinese who came east to China from the cradle of
the race, seated in the saddle of pioneer conquerors; and with the
Hebrews, these Singan men can probably boast that they bring down the
purest blood from the dispersion of Ararat. Descendants of kings and
generals of many a dynasty now plough farms on the plain, and they
will tell you: “Yes, I am the son of a king.” Near here the builder of
the Great Wall, infinitely the greatest mason and military commander
of history, the Emperor Tsin, 220 B. C., had his capital at Hsien
Yang. His huge pyramidal mound, and other burial mounds, are among the
world’s greatest curiosities. On the plain are the two unique marble
arches, with four roofs, erected by Governor Lu to the memory of his
mother and wife, in the China where some writers say women meet with no
honor. A stone bridge of seventy arches over the Pa River, and the hot
sulphur springs of Lin Tung, are notable. The round, instead of square
stone piers, are unique in China, and show Moslem influence. Not all
Chinese cities were without attention from the sanitary engineer. Old
culverts and drains constructed by the ancient kings of the north exist
in Singan and elsewhere, and some of the southern cities have drainage
canals, sewage canals not being considered necessary, as the night-soil
is collected for fertilization. China, however, is going to drain her
cities so as to carry off expectoration and decaying matter. The smells
which the tourist revolts at are not as dangerous as they seem, as
opium, peculiar incense, and vegetable cooking oils, such as sesamum,
peanut, bean, etc., contribute the most malodorous portion.
Chingtu stands in a wide plain in the heart of the vast empire. The
walls are fifteen miles around, and the gates of these walls are
never opened at night, except to the “chi” (government messengers).
Either Chingtu or the Hankau cities will be the capital of the nation
eventually. It is an intellectual center, and there are many publishing
shops. Two rivers, the Min and To, border the plain, and are broken up
into the widest system of irrigation canals that the world shows. No
garden of the earth is so rich as this warm moist Eden. Every tree,
herb and plant of the tropics and sub-tropics is raised, and more men
are supported here to the acre than anywhere else in the world. It
is the earth’s model school of intensive farming, and would delight
the professors of the specializing University of Wisconsin! In the
sandstone and loess hills are the cliff dwellings of prehistoric man.
There are hundreds of bridges and ferries, many temples, arches,
cemeteries and villages, the latter often populated by one family clan.
The great walled city of a million inhabitants has the widest streets
of any native city except Peking. There is a Tartar walled city within
the Chinese city. The forts over the gates are of three stories. The
loyal General Chao Ehr Feng, the hero of the Tibet campaign in 1910,
held Chingtu for many months against the republicans in the fall of
1911.
The Provincial Assembly proclaimed reform in September, 1911, from
a wonderful, circular, double-roofed temple in Chingtu. There is a
large Mohammedan population, and mosques are therefore conspicuous.
Marco Polo was a traveler here. There are wide Tartar parade grounds
and rifle butts. The markets and fairs held in the temple grounds
(religion and business being partners in China as in that Boston church
that uses its basement for stores!) are the best in the empire. It is
the splendid capital of the largest and richest province; a center
of independent provincials who are crying “China for the Chinese.”
It has a modern union university, which teaches English, science and
Chinese; trade, military and girls’ schools; musk, silk, brass, salt,
horn-lantern, oil, fur, spice, lace, porcelain, cotton and wool shops;
a few iron shops; decorated yamen and guild halls. Its traveling
kitchens, its porters and wheelbarrow brotherhoods are unique. One
temple, erected to the Sheep-god in particular, is remarkable for two
reasons: first, that it is a Taoist and not a Buddhist monastery: and
second, that it is one of the finest examples of architecture in the
empire. It is the beautiful Ching Yang Kung (Temple of the Golden
Sheep) monastery outside the south gate. The Chu Ko Liang monastery,
with its circular doors, is another chef-d’œuvre.
Many nations and faiths have missions here, and their medical schools
and hospitals have won the hearts of the Chinese even ahead of their
excellent schools. Chingtu is one of the centers that the Canadian
missions have selected for special work. One meets many foreign
engineers, and there are also native engineers. The climate is far more
endurable for foreigners than that of South China at the seacoast.
Many Lolo and Miaotse aborigine mountaineers, with their hair worn
in a top-knot, are seen on the busy streets. Rice and wheat mills
are being erected, and furniture, florist, book, bronze and picture
stores abound. Chingtu will be the center of the commercial attack on
rich Southeast Tibet, as the main pass of Ta Chien is not far away.
Britain plans to link Chingtu to her Burmese and Indian railways by
loaning the Chinese the necessary money. The Chingtu gentry started a
railway to Ichang on the Yangtze River, and differences with the Peking
authorities over the nationalization of this railway in September
precipitated the October, 1911, rebellion at the Hankau cities. There
is an arsenal, a mint, a military school and police barracks, the
police being uniformed in modern style, with the addition of arms.
The French are also in evidence at Chingtu, as they would like to run
their railway up from Yunnan City. Railways are planned to run north to
Singan, east to Ichang through exceedingly difficult country, south to
Chungking, and west to Batang and Burma. Politically the Chingtu people
are progressive and fearless like the men of Hupeh province, whence
they came, as in 1644 Chang Hsien Chang depopulated Chingtu.
Chungking, the second city of vast Szechuen province, is a riverine
port with a great future as a railway, boat, trading and manufacturing
center; a future Pittsburgh, perhaps. It is built on a rocky peninsula
just like Macao, the Yangtze and Kialing Rivers forming two sides,
and a wall the third side of a triangle. From the hills outside the
wall, the graves of the ages look down on the busy scene, as the
carriers set out on the long stone road toward the capital, Chingtu.
Chungking is famous for its water-gates, overhanging buildings propped
over the rock with long poles. Some of its streets are exceptionally
clean, wide and well paved. It is called the “piled-up” city, like the
lower part of rocky Hongkong, the roof of one row of buildings being
part of the street of the tier of buildings above. There is a great
parade ground, and a military school by the land wall. The city is a
center for fitting up expeditions which are bound for the prosperous
capital in the north, the rich hilly south, or the wild west. Drugs,
vegetable and mineral oils, water-proof paper, salt, coal, furs, iron,
tea, lanterns, cement, agricultural products including sugar, bamboo,
silk in particular, boat builders’ and chandlers’ supplies, placer
and quartz gold, are all specialties of the district. Fine pagodas,
with beautiful, up-curling galleries, overlook the river, and there
are excellent “Li Pais” or mission compounds, and modern educational
institutions. There are fine guilds, as one could expect of the Hupeh
and Hunan province merchants, and the Ho Gai Monastery reveals a
delightful touch of the old times. Beautiful pailoo arches span the
roads. The Guild of Benevolence is famous for its extremely beautiful
pavilions and terraces. As at all the riverine ports of the Yangtze,
the great flights of wet stone stairs are characteristic. Chungking was
once the second worst opium hell in the kingdom, but the people awoke
to their danger in a wonderfully surprising way, and in the years from
1908–11 largely threw off the curse.
In Chungking the rebels of 1911 recruited many of their first
patriots, and the first attacks were planned from here. The people
are an earnest-looking set, yet the place for centuries, like its
great winter mists which float down from Tibet, was the center of
sorcery, superstition, fortune-telling and folk-lore. It was just the
place to raise soothsayers, poets and astrologers. The only man who
had a stronger wand like Aaron’s which swallowed up all the rest,
was the American or British medical missionary, who by 1910 grew to
be heartily beloved, so much so that every foreigner was welcomed by
rich and poor, and implored to “come in here, see my art treasures,
and (incidentally!) before you go won’t you please heal my child, my
beloved and my old parent?” It was enough to make every traveler swear
that if he returned home safely he would at once study medicine and
come back to China as a physician of the body first, and the soul and
economic state afterward. The boat people of the port are famous for
their courage and skill, and the mountain coolies are noted for their
endurance. Much of the blood of the race is from Hupeh, which means a
strong strain of “China for the Chinese”. The city is surrounded with
hills and ranges, and there are many mountain health resorts used by
natives and foreigners, which are exceedingly welcome in the moist hot
summer. There is the Golden Buddha range to the south, with its fine
temples and many aborigine dwellers. Ho Ih Shan Mountain is to the
north. The Gong Gorge is a scenic spot of great beauty. The British
have a palatial consulate at Chungking, with a bungalow adjunct in
the hills so as to afford escape from the terrific summer. This is
the policy that the Hongkong Bank long ago instituted in China; mess
quarters over the bank for winter occupancy, and airy bungalow quarters
on Hongkong peak for summer occupancy. There are many Mohammedans in
Chungking, and four of the industries which they control are bakeries,
butcher shops, inns and common carrying.
Wuhu, on the Yangtze, half-way up to Hankau, is recovering from the
blow dealt it by the Taipings in the 60’s. It will take a prominent
place in the coming industrial China because of riches in land, mine,
silk, tea and bamboo near it. It is one of the new strongholds in
education and medicine under American and European auspices. It has
a foreign colony in the hills. The Hwangchi River brings grain and
produce down to its marts, and the great Yangtze sweeps by its harbor
bund. Game, such as pheasant, quail and duck, abounds. There are very
fine pagodas, and in particular a Buddhist rock temple with the figures
of men, animals and birds cut solidly out of, or in relief on the solid
rock, the shrubbery and grass serving for hair and beard in a startling
way. Excursions can be made to the Chin Shan and San Shan hills,
temples, lily lakes and flowery restaurants. The town is full of the
festival spirit, and the beauty of lanterns, arches, flags and matting
shelter is often delightfully exhibited. Wuhu early went over to the
rebel movement of October, 1911. Wuhu is a great sufferer from floods.
They were so deep in August, 1911, that Lion Hill became an island. The
Yangtze, instead of mounting willingly up to Nanking, tries at Wuhu to
break across country for Shanghai. The result is deplorable flood and
resultant famine, involving millions of people.