Transcriber's note:
Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_).
Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.
The carat character (^) indicates that the following letter
is superscripted (example: M^r.). If two or more letters are
superscripted they are enclosed in curly brackets (example:
MOUN^{T.S}).
* * * * *
[Illustration: PAGODA AND GARDENS OF THE EMPEROR'S SUMMER PALACE,
YUEN-MIN-YUEN.
Photo. by Beato.
(_Frontispiece._)]
THE
SIBERIAN OVERLAND ROUTE
FROM PEKING TO PETERSBURG,
THROUGH THE DESERTS AND STEPPES OF MONGOLIA,
TARTARY, &c.
BY ALEXANDER MICHIE.
[Illustration: TOMB AT THE DEPOT, PEKING.]
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1864.
PREFACE.
The following work has but moderate claims, I fear, to public
attention; and it would probably not have seen the light at all but
for the urgent request of friends, who think better of it than the
author does. It has no pretensions to any higher merit than that of
being a plain narrative of the journey, and an impartial record of
my own impressions of the people among whom I travelled.
Although some portions of the route have been eloquently described
by Huc and others, I am not aware that any continuous account of the
whole journey between the capitals of China and Russia has appeared
in the English language for nearly a century and a half. Important
changes have occurred in that period; and, if I may judge of
others by myself, I suspect that many erroneous notions are afloat
respecting the conditions of life in these far-off regions, and more
especially in Siberia. Observation has modified my own pre-conceived
opinions on many of the subjects touched on in the following pages,
and I am not without a hope that they will be found to contain some
information which may be new to many people in this country.
If I have indulged in irrelevant digressions, I can only say that I
have limited myself to those reflections which naturally suggested
themselves in the course of my travels; and the subjects I have
given most prominence to are simply those which happened to be the
most interesting to myself.
My thanks are due to various friends for useful hints, confirming
and correcting my own observations; but I am especially indebted for
some valuable notes on Siberia, its social phenomena, gold mines,
&c., to Edwin E. Bishop, Esq., whose long residence in the country,
and perfect acquaintance with the language and customs of the
people, constitute him an authority on all matters connected with
that part of the world.
22, BERKELEY SQUARE,
_October 28th, 1864_.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I.
SHANGHAI TO TIENTSIN.
PAGE
John Bell--"Overland" routes--Peking a sealed book--Jesuits--
Opening of China--Chinese jealousy of Mongolia--Errors of
British policy--Their results--Preparations for journey--
Leave Shanghae--Yang-tse-kiang-- Changes in its channel--
Elevation of the delta--Chinese records of inundations--The
Nanzing--Shantung promontory in a fog--Chinese coasters--
Advantages of steam--Our fellow-passengers--Peiho river--
Intricate navigation--Sailors in China--Tientsin--New
settlement--Municipal council--Improvements--Trade--Beggars--
Health--Sand-storms--Gambling 1
CHAPTER II.
TIENTSIN TO PEKING.
Modes of travelling--Carts, horses, boats--Filthy banks of the
Peiho--Voyage to Tungchow--Our boat's crew--Chinese distances--
Traffic on the Peiho--Temple at Tungchow--Mercantile priests--
Ride to Peking--Millet--Eight-mile bridge--Resting place--
Tombs--Filial piety--Cemeteries--Old statues--Water
communication into Peking--Grain supply 23
CHAPTER III.
PEKING.
Walls of Peking--Dust and dirt--Street obstructions--The model
inn--Restaurant--Our boon companions--Peking customs--Rule of
thumb--British legation--Confucian temple--Kienloong's
pavilion--Lama temple--Mongol chants--Roman and Bhuddist
analogies--Mongols and Chinese--Hospitality of lay brother--
Observatory--Street cries--Temple of Heaven--Theatres--
European residents--Medical mission under Dr. Lockhart--
Chinese jealousy of Mongolia--Russian diplomacy--Reckoning
with our host--Ice--Paper-money 32
CHAPTER IV.
PEKING TO CHAN-KIA-KOW.
Return to Tungchow--Disappointment--Priest conciliated by
Russian language--Back to Peking--Negotiations--Ma-foo's
peculation--Chinese honesty and knavery--Loading the
caravan--Mule-litters--Leave Peking--Sha-ho--Cotton plant--
Nankow--Crowded inn--Difficult pass--Inner "great wall"--
Cha-tow--Chinese Mahommedans--Religious toleration--Christians
in disfavour--Change of scene--Hwai-lai--Ruins of bridge--Bed
of old river--Road traffic--Watch-towers--Chi-ming-i--Legend
of monastery--the Yang-ho--Pass--Shan-shui-pu--Coal--
Suen-wha-fu--Ride to Chan-kia-kow 56
CHAPTER V.
CHAN-KIA-KOW.
Arrival at Chan-kia-kow--Focus of Trade--Mixed population--
Wealth--Mongols--Russians--Name of Kalgan--Chinese
friends--Russian hospitality--Disappointment--Proposed
excursion to Bain-tolochoi--Camels at last procured--
Noetzli returns to Tientsin--The pass--Mountains--Great
Wall--The horse-fair--Dealers--Ox-carts--Transport of wood
from Urga--Shoeing smiths--Our Russian host arrives--The
"Samovar"--Tea-drinking in Russia--Change of temperature--
Elevation of Chan-kia-kow--Preparations for the desert--
Cabbages--Warm boots--Camels arrive--Leave Chan-kia-kow--
The pass--Superiority of mules, &c., over camels 72
CHAPTER VI.
MONGOLIA.
Leave China--Mishap in the pass--Steep ascent--Chinese
perseverance--Agricultural invasion--Our first encampment--
Cold night--Pastoral scene--Introduction to the Mongols--The
land of tents--Our conductors--Order of march--Mongol
chants--The lama--Slow travelling--Pony "Dolonor"--Night
travelling--Our Mongols' tent--Argols--Visitors--Mongol
instinct--Camels quick feeders--Sport--Antelopes--Lame
camels--Scant pastures--Endurance of Mongols--Disturbed
sleep--Optical illusions--"Yourt," Mongol tent--Domestic
arrangements--Etiquette--Mongol furniture--Sand-grouse--
Track-- Wind and rain--A wretched night--Comfortless
encampment--Camels breaking down--The camel seasons--No
population--No grass--Mingan 83
CHAPTER VII.
MONGOLIA--_continued_.
Visitors at Mingan--Trading--Scene with a drunken Mongol--
Good horsemen--Bad on foot--Knowledge of money--Runaway
pony--A polite shepherd--Gunshandak--Wild onions--Halt--
Expert butcher--Mongol sheep, extraordinary tails--A Mongol
feast--Effects of diet--Taste for fat explained--Mongol
fasts--Our cooking arrangements--Camel ailings--Maggots--
Rough treatment--Ponies falling off--Live in hopes--Dogs--
The harvest moon--Waiting for Kitat--Lamas and their
inhabitants--Resume the march--Meet caravan--Stony
roads--Disturbed sleep--Gurush--Negotiations at Kutul-usu--
Salt plains--Sporting lama--Ulan-Khada--Trees--Reach
Tsagan-tuguruk--Lamas and black men--Small temple--Musical
failure--Our new acquaintances--Horse-dealing--Greed of
Mongols--Fond of drink--A theft--The incantation--Kitat
returns--Camel lost--Vexatious delay--Start from
Tsagan-tuguruk 102
CHAPTER VIII.
MONGOLIA--_continued_.
Marshes--Camels dislike water--Chinese caravan--Travellers'
tales--Taryagi--Looking for cattle in the dark--
Butyn-tala--An addition to our party--Russian courier--
Water-fowl--Bad water--Kicking camel--Pass of Ulin-dhabha--
Mongols shifting quarters--Slip 'tween the cup and the
lip--Mountains--The north wind--Guntu-gulu--An accident--
Medical treatment--Protuberant ears--Marmots--Ice--Dark
night--Bain-ula--Living, not travelling--Charm of desert
life--Young pilgrim--Grand scenery--Steep descent--Obon--
Horror of evil spirits--Mongol and Chinese notions of
devils--Dread of rain--A wet encampment--Snow--The White
Mountains--The Bactrian camel--Capability of enduring
cold-- Job's comforters--Woods appear--The yak--Change
of fuel 122
CHAPTER IX.
URGA TO KIACHTA.
Maimachin in sight--A snow storm--Hasty encampment--Tolla in
flood--Delay--Intercourse with Mongols--The night
watches--Tellig's family--Rough night--Scene at the Tolla--
Crossing the river--the "Kitat" redivivus--His
hospitality--How Mongols clean their cups--Maimachin--The
Russian consulate--Russian ambition--Its prospects--The
Urga, or camp--Kuren--Fine situation--Buildings--
Horse-shoeing--Hawkers--The lamaseries--An ascetic--The
Lama-king--Relations between Chinese emperors and the Lama
power--Urga and Kara Korum--Historical associations--Prester
John and Genghis Khan--Leave Urga--Slippery paths--
More delays--The pass--A snow storm--Fine scenery--Rich
country--Another bugbear--The Boro valley--Cultivation--
Khara-gol--The pass--Lama courier--Shara-gol--Winter
quarters--The transmigration--Iro-gol--Forced march--
Kiachta in sight 141
CHAPTER X.
MONGOLS--HISTORICAL NOTES.
Early history of Huns--Wars with China--Dispersion--Appear
in Europe--Attila--His career--And death--Turks--Mixture
of races--Consanguinity of Huns and Mongols--Genghis--His
conquests--Divisions of his empire--Timour--A Mahommedan--
His wars--And cruelties--Baber--The Great Mogul in India--
Dispersion of tribes--Modern divisions of the Mongols--
Warlike habits--Religions--The causes of their success
in war considered--Their heroes--Their characters--And
military talents--Superstition--Use of omens--
Destructiveness and butcheries of the Huns and Mongols--
Antagonistic traits of character--Depraved moral
instincts--Necessity of culture to develop human
feelings--Flesh-eating not brutalising--Dehumanising
tendency of war--Military qualities of pastoral peoples--
Dormant enthusiasm of the Mongols 166
CHAPTER XI.
MONGOLS--PHYSICAL AND MENTAL CHARACTERISTICS.
Physical characteristics--Meanness--Indolence--Failure in
agriculture--Hospitality--Its origin--Pilfering--Honesty--
Drunkenness--Smoking--Ir'chi or Kumiss--Morality--Of
lamas--Women fond of ornaments--Decency of dress--
Physique--Low muscular energy--A wrestling match--Bad
legs--Bow-legged--Its causes--Complexions--Eyes--Absence
of beard--Comparison with Chinese and Japanese--Effect
of habits on physical development--Animal instincts in
nomads--Supply the place of artificial appliances--
Permanence of types of character--Uniformity in primitive
peoples--Causes that influence colour of skin--Mongol
powers of endurance--Low mental capacity--Its causes--
Superstition produced by their habits--Predisposed to
spiritual thraldom--The lamas and their practices--
Prayers--Knaveries of lamas--Vagabond lamas--The spread
of Bhuddism--Superior to Shamanism--Shaman rites--Political
result of Bhuddism--The Mongol kings--Serfs 185
CHAPTER XII.
KIACHTA.
Approach Kiachta--Maimachin--Chinese elegance--The
frontier--Russian eagle--The commissary of the frontier--
"Times" newspaper--Kiachta--Troitskosarfsk--Meet a
countryman--Part from our Mongols--Their programme--A
Russian bath--Siberian refinement--Streets and pavement--
Russian conveyances--Aversion to exercise--
Semi-civilisation--Etiquette--Mixture of peoples--Wealth
of Russian merchants--Narrow commercial views--The Chinese
of Maimachin--Domestic habits--Russian and Chinese
characters compared--Chinese more civilised than the
Russians--The Custom-house--Liberal measures--Our droshky--
Situation of Kiachta--Supplies--Population--Hay-market--
Fish--The garden--Domestic gardening--Climate salubrious--
Construction of houses--Stoves--Russian meals--Commercial
importance of Kiachta--Inundation of the Selenga--
Travelling impracticable--Money-changing--New travelling
appointments--Tarantass--Passports--Danger of delay--Prepare
to start--First difficulty--Siberian horses--Post-bell 203
CHAPTER XIII.
KIACHTA TO THE BAIKAL.
Leave Troitskosarfsk--Hilly roads--Bouriats--The first
post-station--Agreeable surprise--Another stoppage--A
night on the hill-side--Hire another carriage--Reach the
Selenga--The ferry--Selenginsk--A gallery of art--
Cultivation--Verchne Udinsk--Effects of the inundation--
Slough of despond--Fine scenery--A dangerous road--A
press of travellers--Favour shown us--Angry Poles--
Ilyensk--An obsequious postmaster--Tidy post-house--A
night at Ilyensk--Treachery suspected--Roads destroyed--
Difficult travelling--An old Pole--Baikal lake--Station
at Pasoilské--A night scene--The Selenga river--And
valley--Agriculture--Cattle, sheep, pigs, dogs 223
CHAPTER XIV.
LAKE BAIKAL TO IRKUTSK.
Morning scene at Pasoilské--Better late than never--
Victimised--Russian junks--Primitive navigators--Storms on
the Baikal--Scene at the shipping port--Religious
ceremony--A polite officer--Inconvenience of the Baikal
route--Engineering enterprise--More delay--Fares by the
Baikal steamer--Crowing and crouching--The embarkation--The
General Karsakof--A naval curiosity--The lake--Its depth--
And area--The "Holy Sea"--The passage--Terra firma--
Custom-house delay--Fine country--Good roads--Hotels Amoor
and Metzgyr 234
CHAPTER XV.
IRKUTSK.
In sight of Irkutsk--Handsome town--Wrong hotel--Bad
accommodation--Suffocation--Bad attendance--The cuisine--
Venerable eggs--Billiards--Meet a friend--Beauties of
Irkutsk--Milliners--Bakers--Tobacconists--Prison--
Convicts--Benevolence of old ladies--Equipages--Libraries--
Theatre--Population--Governor--Generalship--The levée--
Governing responsibilities--Importance of commerce--
Manufactures insignificant--Education--Attractions of
Siberia--Society--Polish exiles--The Decembrists--The
sentence of banishment--Its hereditary effect--Low
standing of merchants--Discomforts of travelling--Engage
a servant--The prodigal--A mistake--Early winter--The
Angara--Floating-bridge--Parting view of Irkutsk 246
CHAPTER XVI.
IRKUTSK TO KRASNOYARSK.
Leave Irkutsk--Roads and rivers--Capacity for sleep--
Bridges--Break-neck travelling--Endurance of Russian
ponies--Verst-posts--Appalling distances--Irregular
feeding--Tea _versus_ grog--River Birusa--Boundary
of Irkutsk and Yenisei--Stoppage--The telegraph wires--
Improved roads--River Kan--The ferrymen--Kansk--A new
companion--Prisoner of war--Advantages and disadvantages
of travelling in company--Improved cultivation--A
snow-storm--Cold wind--Absurd arrangement of stations--
The river Yenisei--Mishap at the ferry--The approach to
Krasnoyarsk--The town--Population--Hotel--Travellers'
accounts--Confusion at the station--The black-book--The
courier service 262
CHAPTER XVII.
KRASNOYARSK TO TOMSK.
Sledges--Sulky yemschiks--Progress to Achinsk--Limit of
Eastern Siberia--Game--The Chulim--Difficult ferry--
Government of Tomsk--Bad roads again--Job's comforters--
Mariinsk--An accident--And another--Resources of a
yemschik--A drive through a forest--Ishimskaya--A
day too late--A sporting Pole--Disappointment--Annoying
delay--Freezing river--A cold bath--Sledge travelling--A
night scene--Early birds--Arrive in Tomsk--Our lodging--
Religion of Russians--Scruples of a murderer--Population
and situation of Tomsk--Fire Insurance--Climate of Tomsk--
Supply of water--Carefulness and hardiness--Skating--Demure
little boys--An extinct species--The gold diggings--The
Siberian tribes 273
CHAPTER XVIII.
TOMSK TO OMSK.
Refitting--The optician--The feather-pillow question--A
friend in need--A dilemma--Schwartz's folly--Old Barnaul
leaves us--We leave Tomsk--A weary night--A Russian
dormitory--Construction of houses--Cross the Tom--And the
Ob--Enter the Baraba steppe--Kolivan--The telegraph--The
ladies of Baraba--Game--Windmills--A frozen marsh--Kainsk--
Reach Oms--Outbreaks on the Kirghis steppe--Russian
aggression--Its effects on different tribes 290
CHAPTER XIX.
OMSK TO OCHANSK.
Leave Omsk--Recruiting--Cross the Irtish--Tukalinsk--
Yalootorofsk--Reach Tumen--Improved posting--Snowroads--
Ekaterineburg--Mint--Precious stones--Iron works--
Englishmen in Siberia--Iron mines--Fish trade--A recruiting
scene--Temperature rising--Game--The Urals--Disappointing--
A new companion--The boundary between Europe and Asia--
Yermak the Cossack--Discovery and conquest of Siberia--
Reach Perm--Too late again--Progress of inland navigation--
Facilities for application of steam--Water routes of
Siberia--Railways--Tatars--Cross the Kama to Ochansk--
Dissolving view of snow roads 305
CHAPTER XX.
RUSSIAN AND SIBERIAN PEASANTRY.
Siberian and Russian peasantry--The contrast--Freedom and
slavery--Origin of Siberian peasants--Their means of
advancement--Exiles--Two classes--Their offences and
punishments--Privileges after release--Liberality of the
government--Its object--Extent of forest--One
serf-proprietor in Siberia--Exemptions from conscription--
Rigour of the climate on the Lena and Yenisei--Settlers
on Angara exempted from taxes--Improvement of Siberian
peasants--A bright future--Amalgamation of classes--Slavery
demoralising to masters--The emancipation of the serfs--
Its results 320
CHAPTER XXI.
KAZAN.--POLISH EXILES.
Road to Kazan--Polish prisoners--Arrive at Kazan--More
croaking--Temptations to delay--Sell our sledge--View of
Kazan--The ferry at the Volga--Ice-boats and icebergs--The
military--Tatars--Polish exiles--Kindly treated by their
escort--Erroneous ideas on this subject--The distribution
of exiles in Siberia--Their life there--The Polish
insurrection--Its objects--Imprudence--Consequences--Success
would have been a second failure 331
CHAPTER XXII.
KAZAN TO PETERSBURG.
A day lost--The moujik's opportunity--Return to Kazan--Hotel
"Ryazin"--Grease and butter--Evening entertainment--Try
again--The ferry--A term of endearment--Ferrymen's
devotions--A Jew publican--"Pour boire"--Villages and
churches--The road to Nijni--Penance--A savage--A
miserable night--Reach Nijni--"Sweet is pleasure after
pain"--The great fair--Nijni under a cloud--Delights of
railway travelling--A contrast--Reach Moscow--Portable
gas--Foundling hospital--The Moscow and Petersburg
railway--Grandeur of Petersburg--Late season--Current
topics--Iron-clads--The currency--Effects of Crimean war--
Russian loyalty--Alexander II. as a reformer--Leave
Petersburg 343
CHAPTER XXIII.
RUSSIA AND CHINA.
Earlier intercourse--Analogies and contrasts--Progress of
Russia and decadence of China--Permanence of Chinese
institutions--Arrogance justified--Not really bigoted--
Changes enforced by recent events--The rebellion--
Fallacious views in parliament--British interest in
China--A bright future--Railways--Telegraphs--Machinery
and other improvements--Resources to be developed--Free
cities 357
POSTSCRIPT 401
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
PAGE
PAGODA AND GARDENS OF THE EMPEROR'S SUMMER PALACE,
YUEN-MIN-YUEN. (From a Photograph by Beato) _Frontispiece._
TOMB AT THE DEPOT. PEKING. (From a Photograph
by Beato) _Vignette._
TUNG CHOW PAGODA. (From a Photograph by Beato) 27
WALLS OF PEKING. (From a Photograph by Beato) 32
PAVILION OF THE SUMMER PALACE OF YUEN-MIN-YUEN. (From a
Photograph by Beato) 37
THIBETIAN MONUMENT IN LAMA TEMPLE. PEKING. (From a Photograph
by Beato) 42
GREAT TEMPLE OF HEAVEN. PEKING. (From a Photograph by Beato) 48
PART OF THE EMPEROR'S PALACE, YUEN-MIN-YUEN. DESTROYED
1860. (From a Photograph by Beato) 55
THE NANKOW PASS 63
HALT IN THE DESERT OF GOBI 104
FORDING THE TOLLA NEAR URGA 147
VIEW OF EKATERINBURG. SIBERIA. (From a Russian Photograph). 307
[Illustration: A GENERAL MAP OF NORTHERN ASIA.
_M^r. Michie's route coloured._
_London John Murray, Albemarle S^t_]
THE SIBERIAN OVERLAND ROUTE FROM PEKING TO PETERSBURG.
CHAPTER I.
SHANGHAE TO TIENTSIN.
The charming narrative of John Bell, of Antermony, who, in the reign
of Peter the Great, travelled from Petersburg to Peking in the suite
of a Russian ambassador, inspired me with a longing desire to visit
Siberia and other little-known regions through which he passed.
Having occasion to return to England, after a somewhat protracted
residence on the coast of China, an opportunity presented itself of
travelling through the north of China, Mongolia, and Siberia, on my
homeward journey. This is, indeed, the real "overland route" from
China, and it may as properly be styled "maritime," as the mail
route per P. & O. steamers "overland." The so-called overland route
has, however, strong temptations for a person eager to get home.
There is a pleasing simplicity about the manner of it which is a
powerful attraction to one who is worn out with sleepless nights in
a hot climate. It is but to embark on a steamer; attend as regularly
at meal times as your constitution will permit; sleep, or what is
the same thing, read, during the intervals; and fill up the blanks
by counting the passing hours and surveying your fellow passengers
steeped in apoplectic slumbers under the enervating influence of the
tropics. The sea route has, moreover, a decided advantage in point
of time. In forty-five or fifty days I could have reached England
from Shanghae by steamer: the land journey viâ Siberia I could not
hope to accomplish in less than ninety days.
But the northern route had strong attractions for me in the kind
of vague mystery that invests the geography of strange countries,
and the character, manners, and customs of their inhabitants.
Ever-recurring novelties might be expected to keep the mind alive;
and active travelling would in a great measure relieve the tedium
of a long and arduous journey. Of the two, therefore, I preferred
the prospect of being frozen in Siberia to being stewed in the Red
Sea. The heat of Shanghae in the summer was intense and almost
unprecedented, the supply of ice was fast undergoing dissolution,
and an escape into colder regions at such a time was more than
usually desirable.
A few years ago it would have been about as feasible to travel from
China to England by way of the moon as through Peking and Mongolia.
Peking was a sealed book, jealously guarded by an arrogant, because
an ignorant, government. Little was known of the city of the khans
except what the Jesuits had communicated in the last century, and
what that prince of travellers, Marco Polo, had handed down from
the middle ages. No foreigner dared show his face there, except in
the guise of a native, and even then at the risk of being detected
and subjected to the greatest indignities. The Jesuits, it is true,
in the face of the prohibition, continued to smuggle themselves
into China, and even into Peking itself, and their perseverance
and tenacity of purpose are entitled to all praise. But they
occasionally paid dearly for their temerity, and not unfrequently
got themselves and their "Christians" into hot water with the
authorities. This received the high-sounding name of "persecution;"
and if any one lost his life for meddling in other people's affairs,
or interfering with the prerogative of the government, he was
honoured with the name of a "martyr." The Jesuits had their day of
power in China, and if they had but used it modestly they might
still have stood at the elbow of the Emperor. They were tried and
found wanting, expelled from Peking, and China was closed against
foreigners, not, it must be confessed, without some reason.
All that has been changed again. The curtain has risen once more;
foreigners are free to traverse the length and breadth of China,
and to spy out the nakedness of the land. The treaty of Tientsin
and convention of Peking, ratified in November, 1860, which opened
up China to travellers for "business or pleasure," was largely
taken advantage of in the following year. In 1861, foreign steamers
penetrated by the great river Yang-tsze into the heart of China.
Four enterprising foreigners explored the river to a distance of
1800 miles from the sea, and many other excursions were set on foot
by foreigners, in regions previously known only through the accounts
of Chinese geographers or the partial, imperfect, and in some
instances obsolete, descriptions of the older Jesuits.
Mongolia, being within the dominions of the Emperor of China, was
included in the passport system; and although the Chinese government
has made a feeble attempt to impose restrictions on foreign
travellers in that region on the ground that, although Chinese, it
is not China, up to the present time no serious obstacles have been
placed in the way of free intercourse in Mongolia; nor can the plain
language of the treaty be limited in its interpretation, unless
the ministers of the treaty powers should voluntarily abandon the
privilege now enjoyed. It is devoutly to be hoped that no envoy of
Great Britain will again commit the error of waiving rights once
granted by the Chinese. However unimportant such abandoned rights
may appear, experience has shown that the results are not so. Sir
Michael Seymour's war at Canton in 1856-7 could never have occurred
if our undoubted right to reside in that city had been insisted on
some years previously. Our disaster at the Taku forts in 1859 would
have been prevented if the right of our minister to reside in Peking
had not, in a weak moment, been waived. What complications have
not arisen in Japan, from our consenting to undo half Lord Elgin's
treaty and allowing the port of Osaca to remain closed to our
merchantmen! We cannot afford to make concessions to Asiatic powers.
Give them an inch and they will take an ell: then fleets and armies
must be brought into play to recover ground we have lost through
sheer wantonness.
Too late to join a party who preceded me, I had some difficulty
in finding a companion for the journey, but had the good fortune
to make the acquaintance of a young gentleman from Lyons, who
purposed going to France by the Siberian route with or without a
companion. We at once arranged matters to our mutual satisfaction,
and proceeded with the preparations necessary for the journey.
Having the advantage of excellent practical advice on this head
from gentlemen who had already gone over the ground, we had little
difficulty in getting up our outfit. A tent was indispensable for
Mongolia, and we got a very commodious one from a French officer. A
military cork mattress, with waterproof sheets, proved invaluable
in the desert. Our clothing department was inconveniently bulky,
because we had to provide both for very hot and very cold weather.
The commissariat was liberally supplied, rather overdone, as it
turned out, but that was a fault on the safe side. The accounts
we heard of the "hungry desert," where nothing grows but mutton,
induced us to lay in supplies not only for an ordinary journey
across, but for any unforeseen delay we might encounter on the way.
We had first to get to Tientsin, six hundred miles from Shanghae,
and two steamers were under despatch for that port. I embarked
on board the _Nanzing_, Captain Morrison, about midnight on the
28th July, 1863. Taking advantage of the bright moon, we steamed
cautiously down the river Wong-poo for fourteen miles, past the
village of Woosung, "outside the marks," and into the great river
Yang-tsze, where we cast anchor for the night. It would be hazardous
to attempt the navigation of the estuary of the Yang-tsze, even in
bright moonlight. Its banks are so flat as to afford no marks to
steer by. The estuary is very wide, but the deep water channel is
narrow, with extensive shallows on either side. The upper parts
of the Yang-tsze-kiang, where the river narrows to a mile or two
in breadth, and flows through a bolder country, are more easy of
navigation. In the broad part of the river, near its mouth, the deep
water channels have a tendency to shift their positions. The surveys
of the river from its mouth to Nanking, made in 1842, were found
inapplicable in 1861. Where shallows were marked in 1842, deep water
was found in 1861, and dry patches were found where the navigable
channels were before. The delta of this noble river is rapidly
growing into dry land; the "banks" are fast rising into islands, and
the channels of the river becoming more circumscribed. The rapidity
with which this process is going on is most remarkable. From a point
nearly fifty miles from the mouth of the river it is divided into
two great branches, called by hydrographers the north and the south
entrances. Twenty years ago extensive shallows lay between, and
many a good ship found a final resting-place on these treacherous
banks. The most dangerous of these are now above water, and are
visible from a distance sufficient to enable the pilot to keep clear
of them. In the small river Wang-poo also, at and below the town of
Shanghae, the land is gaining considerably on the water. An island
has formed and is still growing near the mouth of the Wang-poo,
known to pilots as the "middle-ground." Until a very few years ago
it was entirely under water. In the year 1855 I was aground on the
top of it in a schooner near low water, and the rising tide floated
us off easily. The island is now so high as to remain uncovered
in the highest spring tides. Thus, in the space of eight years,
this island has risen more than twelve, and probably not less than
eighteen feet. The formation is extending itself downwards; the
tail of the island stretching away under water brought up many
vessels in 1862 and 1863, where there was plenty of water a year or
two before. On the south shore of the Yang-tsze-kiang the lines of
embankment mark the different stages of the aggression of the land
on the water. When a dry flat was formed liable to inundations in
high tides, an embankment of mud was built for the protection of
the inhabitants who settled on the reclaimed land. In process of
time more land was made, and another embankment formed. Thus three
distinct lines of embankment, several miles inland from the present
water line, are to be traced from below Woosung towards Hang-chow
Bay, and a very large tract of good arable land has been reclaimed
from the river, or, as the Chinese call it, the sea, within
comparatively modern times. From the causes we see now in active
operation, it is easy to trace the formation of the vast alluvial
plain which now supports so many millions of inhabitants.
There are, indeed, intimations in the Chinese records of some of
these changes. Islands in the sea are mentioned but a few centuries
back, which are now hills in inhabited districts. In the dawn of
Chinese history allusions are made to a great flood which desolated
the land, and the Emperor Yaou has been immortalised for his
achievements in subduing and regulating the waters. Yaou reigned
about 2200 B.C., and the rising of the waters in his time has been
referred by some to the Noachian deluge. But the Chinese empire at
that time extended as far south as the Great River, and included
three great valleys. It is not an improbable conjecture therefore
that there was a large circumference of debateable land barely
reclaimed from the sea. With the imperfect means then at command for
keeping out the water it is easy to suppose that an unusually high
tide would break down the defences and overflow the flat country.
It may also be, of course, that then, as now, the Yellow River
caused trouble by arbitrarily changing its course, and the patriotic
labours of Yaou may have been limited to damming up that wayward
stream, which has been called "China's sorrow." But the chronicles
of the great inundation do not appear to have been satisfactorily
explained, and it may be said of the annals of the reigns of Yaou
and Shun, that the interest which attaches to them is in direct
proportion to their obscurity.
A few hours' steaming on the 29th took us out of the turbid waters
of the Yang-tsze-kiang, but during the whole of that day we
continued in shallow water of a very light sea-green colour. The
weather was fine, and though still extremely hot, the fresh sea
air soon produced a magical effect on our enfeebled digestion. The
voyage was as pleasant as a good ship, a good table, and a courteous
commander could make it. On the 30th a thick fog settled down on
the water, and on the following morning all eyes were anxiously
straining after the Shantung promontory, which was the turning-point
of our voyage. By dead reckoning we were close to it, but there is
no accounting for the effect of the currents that sweep round this
bold headland. The tide rushes into the Gulf of Pecheli by one side
of the entrance, and out at the other. But from the conformation of
the gulf the tidal currents are subject to disturbances from various
causes, of which the direction of the wind is the most potent. A
north-westerly wind keeps the tide wave at bay, and drives the
water out of the gulf, until its level has been lowered several
feet below that of the ocean. Great irregularities in the ebb and
flow are occasioned by this; and when the cause ceases to act, the
reaction is proportionate to the amount of disturbance; the pent-up
waters from without flow in with impetuosity, and the equilibrium is
restored.
In the dense fog, our commander could only crawl along cautiously,
stopping now and again to listen for the sound of men's voices, or
the barking of dogs, take soundings, and watch for any indications
of the near vicinity of land. At length, to our great joy, the fog
lifted over a recognisable point of the promontory, and immediately
settled down again. The glimpse was sufficient however, and the
good steamer was at once headed westward, for the mouth of the
Peiho river, and bowled along fearlessly on her way. As the sun
rose higher the mist was dispersed, and the bold rugged outline of
the Shantung coast was unveiled before us. The clear blue water
was alive with Chinese coasting craft, small and large, of most
picturesque appearance. The heavy, unwieldy junks of northern China
lay almost motionless, their widespread sails hanging idly to the
mast, for there was just wind enough to ripple the surface of the
water in long patches, leaving large spaces of glassy smoothness
untouched by the breeze.
The crews of the northern junks are hardy stalwart fellows, inured
to labour, and zealous in their work. Their vessels are built very
low-sided, to enable them to be propelled by oars when the wind
fails them. The crews work cheerily at their oars, both night and
day, when necessary, keeping time to the tune of their half-joyous,
half-melancholy boat-songs. With all their exertions, however,
they drive the shapeless lump but slowly through the water, and
one cannot help feeling pity for the poor men, and regret for the
waste of so much manual labour. It is to be hoped that this hardy
race of seamen will find more fruitful fields wherein to turn
their strength to account when foreign vessels and steamers have
superseded the time-honoured but extravagant system of navigation
in China. This end has, indeed, been already reached to a certain
extent. China has been imbued with the progressive spirit of the
world, to the great advantage both of themselves and foreigners. The
southern coasts swarm with steamers, and the Gulf of Pecheli, in
this the third year from the opening of foreign trade in the north,
was regularly visited by trading steamers. In all discussions in
England on the subject of the development of trade in China, the
vast coasting trade is generally overlooked, as a matter in which we
have no interest. This is a mistake, however, for foreigners have
a considerable share in that trade directly, and their steamers
and sailing vessels are employed to a very large extent by the
Chinese merchants. All produce is very materially reduced in price
to the consumer by the facilities for competition among merchants
which improved communication affords, and by the diminution in
expenses of carriage, which is the necessary result. The rapidity
with which foreign vessels can accomplish their voyages as compared
with Chinese junks enables the native trader to make so many more
ventures in a given time, that he can afford to take smaller
profits than formerly, and yet on the average be no loser. Or even
if the average results of the year's trade be less profitable to
individuals than before, its benefits are spread over a greater
number, and, in the aggregate, suffer no diminution. The general
interests of the country have been subserved in an important
degree by the extension of the coasting trade, where no disturbing
influences have been at work; and the prosperity of the general
population cannot fail to react favourably on the mercantile class,
through whom the prosperity primarily comes.
Chefoo, the new settlement on the Shantung coast, is frequently a
port of call for steamers trading between Shanghae and Tientsin. We
did not touch there in the _Nanzing_, but passed at a distance of
twelve miles from the bluff rocky headland from which the settlement
takes its name. Before darkness had closed in the view we had
reached the Mia-tau group of islands which connect the mountain
ranges of Shantung, by a continuous chain, with the Liau-tung
promontory at the north of the entrance of the Gulf of Pecheli.
There is not much difficulty or danger in getting through these
islands even at night, but it is always an object to a navigator to
reach them before dark. The course is then clear for the Peiho, and
he has a whole night's straight run before him with nothing to look
out for.
The Peiho river must be an awkward place to "make," except in clear
weather. The land is lower even than that of the valley of the
Yang-tsze-kiang; the shoal water runs out a long distance into the
gulf; and a dangerous sand spit, partly above, and partly under
water, stretches fifty miles out to sea on the north of the approach
to the river. On reaching the outer anchorage, where vessels of
heavy draught lie, the celebrated Taku forts are dimly visible in
the haze of the horizon, and masts may be seen inside the river, but
the low land on either side is still invisible. A shoal bar, with a
very hard bottom, lies between the outer anchorage and the river,
and the _Nanzing_, drawing less than ten feet, was obliged to anchor
outside until the rising tide enabled her to get in.
Our Chinese fellow passengers, who had kept remarkably quiet during
the voyage, as is their invariable custom, became animated as we ran
in between the Taku forts. They were a motley crowd of all classes
of people--mercantile, literary, and military. The students who
go to Peking to undergo examinations for literary degrees travel
now in great numbers by steamer, and doubtless many who, from want
of means, want of time, or from any other cause, might hesitate
before undertaking such a long journey by the old land route, are
now enabled, by means of the coasting steamers, to accomplish the
object so deeply cherished by all Chinese literati. The "plucked"
ones, and there are many such in China, can now more easily renew
their efforts. Men have been known to repair year after year to the
examination-hall from their youth upwards, and get plucked every
time,--yet, undaunted by constant failure, they persevere in their
vain exertions to the winter of their days. The country that can
produce such models of perseverance in a hopeless cause may claim to
possess elements of vitality, and the usual proportion of fools.
Among our Chinese passengers was an athlete from Fokien, who was
bound to Peking to try his prowess in archery. He was a man of great
muscular power, fat, and even corpulent. It is remarkable that the
training system adopted for the development of the muscles should
produce so much fat. I had not observed this before in the Chinese;
indeed, the few feats of strength I have seen performed by them have
been by men well proportioned and free from fat. But the Japanese
wrestlers, who are carefully trained, are generally fat.
The entrance to the Peiho was, as usual, crowded with native and
foreign craft, and so narrow and tortuous is the river that great
care is necessary to work a long steamer through without accident.
Tientsin is distant from Taku, by the windings of the river, between
sixty and seventy miles. By the cart road it is only thirty-six.
The _Nanzing_ made good way up the river until darkness compelled
her to anchor. In the morning the difficulties of the inland
navigation began. The river was actually too small for a steamer
over two hundred feet long, the turns were too sharp, the ordinary
means of handling a steamer were no longer of any avail,--we hauled
round several bad turns by means of anchors passed on shore in
the boats, but were at length baffled after running the steamer's
nose into cabbage-gardens, breaking down fences, and alarming the
villagers, who turned out _en masse_ to watch the iron monster
as she struggled to force a passage out of her natural element.
Partly out of compassion for the men, who were worn out with the
uncongenial toil of trudging knee-deep through heavy mud, planting
anchors and picking them up again, and partly from some vague hope
of a change of tide in the afternoon, the steamer was brought to
anchor and hands piped to dinner.
The crews of steamers on the coast of China are usually of a
cosmopolite character, chiefly Malays, with a boat's crew of
Chinese, the foreign element being reduced to a minimum comprising
the officers and engineers. Asiatic sailors do very well when there
are plenty of them, the estimate of their value being two of them
to one European. They sail for lower wages, but not low enough
to compensate the ship-owner for the additional numbers that are
necessary. But the Asiatics are more easily handled than Europeans;
their regular "watches" may be broken in upon with impunity; they
are easier fed, and less addicted to quarrelling with their bread
and butter than Europeans, and more especially Englishmen. But any
doubt on the part of a shipmaster as to what crew he will employ,
will generally be solved by the sailors themselves, who, if English
or American, will desert at every port the vessel touches at.
Having my saddle and bridle handy I landed at a village, and
borrowing a horse from the farmers, rode to Tientsin, which was
only some eight miles distant by the road. The heat was scorching,
but greatly mitigated by the mass of bright green foliage that
covered the whole country. The soil though dry and dusty is rich to
exuberance, fruit grows in great abundance, and, for China, in great
perfection. Apples, pears, peaches, apricots, loquats, grapes, are
common everywhere in the north, which may be considered the orchard
of China. The waving crops of millet, interspersed with patches
of beans, and here and there strips of hemp, fill up a vast green
ground dotted thickly with villages and pretty clumps of trees. The
houses form a dull contrast to the cheerful aspect of the country.
In most of the villages they are constructed of mud and straw, which
becomes hard enough to be impervious to rain, but the dull parched
colour, the small apertures for doors and windows, and general
cheerlessness of exterior painfully oppress the sight. The dust
of the roads is also an unfavourable medium through which to view
the tame though rich beauties of the country. The north of China
is cursed with dust, the roads generally are as bad as the road to
Epsom on a "Derby day," when that happy event happens to come off in
dry weather.
I got back to the _Nanzing_ in time for the final effort to double
the difficult corner. The first attempt was successful, and we
steamed on gaily through fields and gardens, washing the banks with
the wave formed in our wake, which sometimes broke over the legs
of unwary celestials who stood gazing after the steamer in stupid
wonder like a cow at a railway train. The Chinese take such mishaps
good-naturedly--the spectators are always amused, and the victims
themselves when the shock of surprise passes off laugh at the joke.
The most serious obstacle to our progress had yet to come, however,
the "double," a point where the river bends abruptly like the
figure S compressed vertically. Extra caution being used there,
the appliances of anchors and warps were efficacious, and we passed
the double successfully. The smoke of the _Waratah_, a steamer that
left Shanghae the day before us, and which we had passed at sea,
now appeared over the trees close to us. There were several reaches
of the river between us, however, and we traced the black column
of smoke passing easily round the bends that had caused us such
difficulty. The _Waratah_ was gaining on us fast, and late in the
evening her black hull appeared under our stern, while the _Nanzing_
was jammed at the last bend of the river, unable either to get round
herself or to make room for the smaller vessel. Hours were spent
in ineffectual endeavours to proceed--the tantalised _Waratah_
could stand it no longer--the captain thought he saw room to pass
us, and came up at full speed between us and the bank. But as the
sailors say "night has no eyes" even when the moon is shining, and
our friend paid for his temerity by crashing his paddle box against
our bow. Time and patience enabled us to reach Tientsin at midnight
on the 1st August, after spending half as much time in the Peiho
river as the whole sea voyage had occupied. I have said enough, and
probably much more than enough, to demonstrate the difficulty of
navigating the Peiho river with vessels not adapted to it. No vessel
should attempt it that is over one hundred and fifty feet in length,
for though the risk of loss from stranding is extremely small, the
loss of time to large vessels must be serious.
A marvellous transformation had taken place in Tientsin since
my previous visit to it in 1861. At that time the few European
merchants who had settled there were confined to the Chinese town,
the filthiest and most offensive of all the filthy places wherein
celestials love to congregate. Now in 1863, the "settlement," that
necessary adjunct of every treaty port in China, had been made
over to foreigners, laid out in streets, and a spacious quay and
promenade on the river bank formed, faced riverwards with solid
masonry, the finest thing of the kind in China, throwing into the
shade altogether the famous "bund" at Shanghae. The affairs of the
settlement are administered by a thoroughly organised "municipal
council" after the example of Shanghae, the "model settlement." The
newly opened ports have an immense advantage over the original five
in having the experience of nearly twenty years to guide them in all
preliminary arrangements. That experience shows first--although the
soundness of the deduction has been questioned by some able men--the
desirability of securing foreign settlements where merchants,
consuls, and missionaries may live in a community of their own
entirely distinct from the native towns, within which they may put
in operation their own police regulations, lay out streets to their
own liking, drain, light, and otherwise improve the settlement,
levy and disburse their own municipal taxes, and, in short, conduct
their affairs as independent communities. These settlements have
the further advantage of being susceptible of defence in times of
disturbance with the minimum risk of complication between the treaty
powers and the Chinese government. Much of the importance Shanghae
has achieved of late years is due to the foreign settlement which,
being neutral ground and defensible, has become a city of refuge
for swarms of Chinese who had been ousted from their homesteads by
the rebels. The cosmopolite character of the Shanghae settlement
has entailed various inconveniences, which it is thought might be
obviated in the new settlements by keeping the different foreign
nationalities distinct. Time has not yet pronounced on the success
of this experiment. There will probably be a difficulty in putting
it thoroughly in practice; no arbitrary regulations will be able
to prevent nationalities from fusing into each other to such an
extent as the higher laws of interest and policy may dictate. And
it will be impossible in practice to subject a mixed community to
the laws of any one power. In the meantime concessions are claimed
from the Chinese government by each of the treaty powers separately,
and so far they have been granted. Whether the isolation of the
various concessions be permanent or not, it secures for them at the
outset more unanimity in laying out streets and framing preliminary
regulations for their good government hereafter. This is of great
importance, and the experience of Shanghae is most valuable in
this respect. The narrowness of the streets in the settlement
there--twenty-two feet--is a standing reproach on the earlier
settlers who, with short-sighted cupidity, clung with tenacity to
every inch of land at a time when land was cheap and abundant. This
fatal error has been avoided in the recent settlements.
The municipality of Shanghae established under the auspices of Sir
Rutherford (then Mr.) Alcock, at that time British consul, has
on the whole proved such a success that the same system has been
adopted in the new settlements. The legality of the institution has
often been questioned, but the creation of some such authority was a
necessity at the time, and it has worked so well for ten years that
it has not only subsisted, but gathered strength and influence by
the unanimous will of the community.
Several fine European houses were already built and inhabited on
the Tientsin settlement. The ground had been well raised, so as to
keep the new town dry, and ensure it a commanding position. It is
about two miles lower down the river than the native town, has a
fine open country round it, and plenty of fresh air. It is several
degrees cooler in the British settlement than in the Chinese town,
and altogether the very best site for the purpose has been selected.
The merchants retain their offices in the Chinese town, riding or
sailing to and fro every day. This system will probably continue to
be practised for some time longer, or perhaps altogether, for the
convenience of the Chinese dealers. A small minority of the foreign
merchants would compel all to retain their business premises in
Tientsin, and nothing less than an almost entire unanimity among
them would effect the transfer to the new town.
As a dépôt of trade, Tientsin labours under certain disadvantages;
the shallow bar outside, and intricate navigation of the river,
prevent any but small craft from trading there. Larger vessels
do sometimes, or rather did,--for I fancy the practice is
discontinued,--repair to the outer anchorage. But the expense of
lighterage, and the detention incurred in loading or discharging
at such a distance from the port, are so great as to drive such
competitors out of the field. The other drawback to Tientsin is
the severe winter, and the early closing of the river by ice. This
generally happens before the end of November, and the ice does not
break up before February or March.
However, Tientsin is the feeder of a large tract of country
containing a large consuming population, and the trade is no doubt
destined to increase. Much disappointment has, indeed, been felt
that the extraordinary start made, chiefly in the sale of foreign
manufactures, in the first year of its existence as a port of
foreign trade, has not been followed up. This may be explained,
however, by the circumstance that in 1860-61 manufactured goods
were extremely depressed by over-supply in the south of China.
These goods were introduced into Tientsin, and sold direct to the
Chinese there, untaxed by the intermediate profits and charges they
formerly had to bear when sold in Shanghae, and thence forwarded
by Chinese merchants, in Chinese junks, to Tientsin and the north.
Prices in Tientsin soon fell so low that the merchants were tempted
into large investments during 1861. The markets of the interior
became overstocked, and, before the equilibrium was restored, the
cotton famine began to be felt, and prices of goods (the Tientsin
trade is chiefly opium and cotton goods) rose so high as to deter
purchasers, and in a material degree to reduce the consumption of
foreign cottons. Another circumstance also operated adversely to a
maintenance of the lively trade that grew up in 1861. There were
no exports in Tientsin suitable to any foreign market. The foreign
trade was therefore limited to the sale of imports, which were paid
for in specie. A heavy drain of bullion was the result, more than
the resources of the country could bear for any length of time. This
of itself was enough to check the further development of trade; for
though the precious metals were merely transferred from one part
of the country to another, no counter-balancing power then existed
by which they could be circulated back to the districts whence
they came. There is no good reason why produce suitable to foreign
markets should not be found in Tientsin. Wool and tallow will no
doubt be obtainable in considerable quantities in process of time,
for the country is full of sheep and cattle, and Tientsin is only
six days' journey from the frontier of Mongolia, where flocks and
herds monopolise the soil.
I must mention a circumstance connected with the Tientsin trade,
which is remarkable among an eminently commercial people like the
Chinese. At the opening of the trade, in the end of 1860, the
relative values of gold and silver varied fifteen per cent. between
Tientsin and Shanghae. Gold was purchased for silver in the north,
and shipped to Shanghae, at a large profit, and a good many months
elapsed before an equilibrium was established.
In and about Tientsin, as almost everywhere else in China, the
population is well affected towards foreigners. The British troops
that garrisoned Tientsin from 1860 till 1862 left behind them the
very best impressions on the inhabitants. Not that these troops
were any better than any other well-disciplined troops would have
been, but the Chinese had been taught to regard foreigners as a
kind of aquatic monsters, cruel and ferocious; so when the horrible
picture resolved itself into human beings, civil and courteous in
their disposition, honestly paying for all they wanted, of vast
consumptive powers in the matter of beef and mutton, fruit and
vegetables, and, on the whole, excellent customers, the Chinese
took kindly to the estimable invaders, and had cause to regret
their departure. Foreign merchants were held in high estimation
from the first. The free hospitals for Chinese, set on foot by the
army surgeons, not only did a great deal of good in alleviating
suffering, but prepared the way for mutual good feeling in the after
intercourse between natives and foreigners. It has been questioned
whether the Chinese, as a race, are susceptible of gratitude. But,
at any rate, the respectable classes are sufficiently charitable
themselves to appreciate philanthropy in others; and, in the
self-imposed and gratuitous labours of the surgeons for the benefit
of the sick poor, they saw an example of pure benevolence, which
could not but excite their admiration.
The population of Tientsin is supposed to be about 400,000, residing
chiefly in the suburbs, for trade is generally carried on without
the walls, not only here, but in all Chinese cities. There is an
unusually large proportion of beggars about Tientsin, and loathsome
objects they are, as they whine about the streets, half clad, in
tatters, starved, and often covered with sores. They never sleep but
on the ground. At night, when the streets are quiet, the beggars
may be discovered huddled together at every corner and on every
door-step. Begging is an institution in China, and to qualify for
the craft, men have been said to burn out their own eyes, in order
to excite compassion for their blindness. A Chinese householder
seldom allows a beggar to go away empty. Charity is cheap; a handful
of rice, one copper cash, value the fourth part of a farthing,
suffices to induce the disgusting object to move on to the next
shop. The beggars have seldom any cause to starve in China, but
they do very often, and it is probable they bring diseases on
themselves in their efforts to excite pity, which carry them off
very rapidly. In winter, especially in the north, they seem to die
off like mosquitoes, and no one takes any notice of them except to
bury them--for the Chinese don't like to leave dead bodies about
the streets. In spring they reappear--not the identical beggars,
certainly--but very similar ones, and the ranks of the profession
are kept filled.
The wealthier natives of Tientsin, traders and shopkeepers, are
fond of good living and gambling. They are robust people, and bear
up well against the effects of late hours and gross dissipation.
The close, filthy atmosphere in which they live and breathe does
not seem to injure their health. Epidemics do make great havoc
among them occasionally; one year it is cholera, another year it
is small-pox; but the general healthiness of the people does not
seem to suffer. The climate is exceedingly dry. Little rain or
snow falls; but when it does rain, the whole heavens seem to fall
at once, not in torrents, but in sheets of water. The peculiar
sand-storms, so common in the north of China, have not as yet been
satisfactorily investigated. They often come on after a sultry day.
A yellow haze appears in the sky, darkening the sun; then columns
of fine dust are seen spinning round in whirlwinds. At that stage
every living thing seeks shelter, and those who are afield are lucky
if they are not caught in the blinding storm before they reach
their houses. But even a closely shut-up house affords but half
protection, for the fine powdery dust insinuates itself through the
crevices of doors and windows, and is palpably present in your soup
and your bread for some time after. The most obvious source whence
these sand-storms come, is the great sandy desert of Mongolia, but
such an hypothesis is hardly sufficient to account for all the
phenomena which accompany the sand-storms. It has been supposed that
they are due to some peculiar electrical condition of the atmosphere.
The Chinese are passionately addicted to gambling, and the endless
variety of games of chance in common use among them does credit to
their ingenuity and invention, for it is not likely that they have
learned anything from their neighbours. The respectable merchant,
who devotes the hours of daylight assiduously to his business,
sparing no labour in adjusting the most trifling items of account,
will win or lose thousands of dollars overnight with imperturbable
complacency. Every grade of society is imbued with the passion. I
have amused myself watching the coolies in the streets of Tientsin
gambling for their dinner. The itinerant cooks carry with them, as
part of the wonderful epitome of a culinary establishment with which
they perambulate the streets, a cylinder of bamboo, containing a
number of sticks on which are inscribed certain characters. These
mystic symbols are shaken up in the tube, the candidate for hot
dumpling draws one, and according to the writing found on it, so
does he pay for his repast. So attractive is gambling in any form
to the Chinese, that a Tientsin coolie will generally prefer to
risk paying double for the remote chance of getting a meal for
nothing. On one occasion I volunteered to act as proxy for a hungry
coolie who was about to try his luck. The offer was accepted with
eagerness, and I was fortunate enough to draw my constituent a
dinner for nothing. I was at once put down as a professor of the
black art, and literally besieged by a crowd of others, all begging
me to do them a similar favour, which, of course, I prudently
declined. Had I indeed been successful a second time, the dispenser
of the tempting morsels would certainly have protested against my
interference as an invasion of his prerogative, which is to win, and
not to lose.
The Chinese gamblers are, of course, frequently ruined by the
practice. They become desperate after a run of ill luck; every
consideration of duty and interest is sunk, and they play for stakes
which might have startled even the Russian nobles, who used to
gamble for serfs. In the last crisis of all, a dose of opium settles
all accounts pertaining to this world.
In games of skill the Chinese are no less accomplished. Dominoes,
draughts, chess, and such like, are to be seen in full swing at
every tea-house, where the people repair to gossip and while away
the evening. The little groups one sees in these places exhibit
intense interest in their occupation; the victory is celebrated by
the child-like exultation of the winner, and any pair of Chinese
draught-players may have sat for Wilkie's celebrated picture.