Produced by Robert J. Hall.
The Awakening of China
By W. A. P. MARTIN, D.D., LL.D
Formerly President of the Chinese Imperial University
Author of "A Cycle of Cathay," "The Siege
in Peking," "The Lore of Cathay," etc.
[Page v]
PREFACE
China is the theatre of the greatest movement now taking place
on the face of the globe. In comparison with it, the agitation
in Russia shrinks to insignificance; for it is not political, but
social. Its object is not a changed dynasty, nor a revolution in
the form of government; but, with higher aim and deeper motive, it
promises nothing short of the complete renovation of the oldest,
most populous, and most conservative of empires. Is there a people
in either hemisphere that can afford to look on with indifference?
When, some thirty years ago, Japan adopted the outward forms of
Western civilisation, her action was regarded by many as a stage
trick--a sort of travesty employed for a temporary purpose. But
what do they think now, when they see cabinets and chambers of
commerce compelled to reckon with the British of the North Pacific?
The awakening of Japan's huge neighbour promises to yield results
equally startling and on a vastly extended scale.
Political agitation, whether periodic like the tides or unforeseen
like the hurricane, is in general superficial and temporary; but
the social movement in China has its origin in subterranean forces
such as raise continents from the bosom of the deep. To explain
those forces is the object of the present work.
It is the fascination of this grand spectacle that has
[Page vi]
brought me back to China, after a short visit to my native land--and
to this capital, after a sojourn of some years in the central provinces.
Had the people continued to be as inert and immobile as they appeared
to be half a century ago, I might have been tempted to despair
of their future. But when I see them, as they are to-day, united
in a firm resolve to break with the past, and to seek new life
by adopting the essentials of Western civilisation, I feel that
my hopes as to their future are more than half realised; and I
rejoice to help their cause with voice and pen.
Their patriotism may indeed be tinged with hostility to foreigners;
but will it not gain in breadth with growing intelligence, and will
they not come to perceive that their interests are inseparable from
those of the great family into which they are seeking admission?
Every day adds its testimony to the depth and genuineness of the
movement in the direction of reform. Yesterday the autumn
manoeuvres of the grand army came to a close. They have shown
that by the aid of her railways China is able to assemble a body
of trained troops numbering 100,000 men. Not content with this
formidable land force, the Government has ordered the construction
of the nucleus of a navy, to consist of eight armoured cruisers
and two battleships. Five of these and three naval stations are
to be equipped with the wireless telegraph.
Not less significant than this rehabilitation of army and navy is
the fact that a few days ago a number of students, who had completed
their studies at foreign universities, were admitted to the third
degree (or
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D. C. L.) in the scale of literary honours, which means appointment
to some important post in the active mandarinate. If the booming
of cannon at the grand review proclaimed that the age of bows and
arrows is past, does not this other fact announce that, in the
field of education, rhyming and caligraphy have given place to
science and languages? Henceforth thousands of ambitious youth
will flock to the universities of Japan, and growing multitudes
will seek knowledge at its fountain-head beyond the seas.
Still more surprising are the steps taken toward the intellectual
emancipation of woman in China. One of the leading ministers of
education assured me the other day that he was pushing the establishment
of schools for girls. The shaded hemisphere of Chinese life will thus
be brought into the sunshine, and in years to come the education
of Chinese youth will begin at the mother's knee.
The daily deliberations of the Council of State prove that the
reform proposals of the High Commission are not to be consigned to
the limbo of abortions. Tuan Fang, one of the leaders, has just been
appointed to the viceroyalty of Nanking, with _carte blanche_
to carry out his progressive ideas; and the metropolitan viceroy,
Yuan, on taking leave of the Empress Dowager before proceeding to
the manoeuvres, besought her not to listen to reactionary counsels
such as those which had produced the disasters of 1900.
In view of these facts, what wonder that Chinese newspapers are
discussing the question of a national religion? The fires of the
old altars are well-nigh extinct; and, among those who have come
forward to
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advocate the adoption of Christianity as the only faith that meets
the wants of an enlightened people, one of the most prominent is
a priest of Buddha.
May we not look forward with confidence to a time when China shall
be found in the brotherhood of Christian nations?
W. A. P. M.
_Peking, October 30, 1906._
[Page ix]
INTRODUCTION
How varied are the geological formations of different countries,
and what countless ages do they represent! Scarcely less diversified
are the human beings that occupy the surface of the globe, and not
much shorter the period of their evolution. To trace the stages
of their growth and decay, to explain the vicissitudes through
which they have passed, is the office of a philosophic historian.
If the life history of a silkworm, whose threefold existence is
rounded off in a few months, is replete with interest, how much
more interesting is that of societies of men emerging from barbarism
and expanding through thousands of years. Next in interest to the
history of our own branch of the human family is that of the yellow
race confronting us on the opposite shore of the Pacific; even
more fascinating, it may be, owing to the strangeness of manners
and environment, as well as from the contrast or coincidence of
experience and sentiment. So different from ours (the author writes
as an American) are many phases of their social life that one is
tempted to suspect that the same law, which placed their feet opposite
to ours, of necessity turned their heads the other way.
To pursue this study is not to delve in a necropolis like Nineveh
or Babylon; for China is not, like western Asia, the grave of dead
empires, but the home of a people
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endowed with inexhaustible vitality. Her present greatness and her
future prospects alike challenge admiration.
If the inhabitants of other worlds could look down on us, as we
look up at the moon, there are only five empires on the globe of
sufficient extent to make a figure on their map: one of these is
China. With more than three times the population of Russia, and an
almost equal area, in natural advantages she is without a rival,
if one excepts the United States. Imagination revels in picturing
her future, when she shall have adopted Christian civilisation,
and when steam and electricity shall have knit together all the
members of her gigantic frame.
It was by the absorption of small states that the Chinese people
grew to greatness. The present work will trace their history as
they emerge, like a rivulet, from the highlands of central Asia
and, increasing in volume, flow, like a stately river, toward the
eastern ocean. Revolutions many and startling are to be recorded:
some, like that in the epoch of the Great Wall, which stamped the
impress of unity upon the entire people; others, like the Manchu
conquest of 1644, by which, in whole or in part, they were brought
under the sway of a foreign dynasty. Finally, contemporary history
will be treated at some length, as its importance demands; and
the transformation now going on in the Empire will be faithfully
depicted in its relations to Western influences in the fields of
religion, commerce and arms.
As no people can be understood or properly studied apart from their
environment, a bird's-eye view of the country is given.
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CONTENTS
PREFACE
INTRODUCTION
PART I
THE EMPIRE IN OUTLINE
I. China Proper
II. A Journey Through the Provinces--Kwangtung and Kwangsi
III. Fukien
IV. Chéhkiang
V. Kiangsu
VI. Shantung
VII. Chihli
VIII. Honan
IX. The River Provinces--Hupeh, Hunan, Anhwei, Kiangsi
X. Provinces of the Upper Yang-tse--Szechuen, Kweichau, Yunnan
XI. Northwestern Provinces--Shansi, Shensi, Kansuh
XII. Outlying Territories--Manchuria, Mongolia, Turkestan, Tibet
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PART II
HISTORY IN OUTLINE, FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
XIII. Origin of the Chinese
XIV. The Mythical Period
XV. The Three Dynasties
XVI. House of Chou
XVII. The Sages of China
XVIII. The Warring States
XIX. House of Ts'in
XX. House of Han
XXI. The Three Kingdoms
XXII. The Tang Dynasty
XXIII. The Sung Dynasty
XXIV. The Yuen Dynasty
XXV. The Ming Dynasty
XXVI. The Ta-Ts'ing Dynasty
PART III
CHINA IN TRANSFORMATION
XXVII. The Opening of China, a Drama in Five Acts--God in
History--Prologue
ACT 1--The Opium War
(Note on the Tai-ping Rebellion)
ACT 2--The "Arrow" War
ACT 3--War with France
ACT 4--War with Japan
ACT 5--The Boxer War
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XXVIII. The Russo-Japanese War
XXIX. Reform in China
XXX. Viceroy Chang
XXXI. Anti-foreign Agitation
XXII. The Manchus, the Normans of China
APPENDIX
I. The Agency of Missionaries in the Diffusion of Secular
Knowledge in China
II. Unmentioned Reforms
III. A New Opium War
INDEX
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PART I
THE EMPIRE IN OUTLINE
[Page 3]
THE AWAKENING OF CHINA
CHAPTER I
CHINA PROPER
_Five Grand Divisions--Climate--Area and Population--The Eighteen
Provinces_
The empire consists of five grand divisions: China Proper, Manchuria,
Mongolia, Turkestan, and Tibet. In treating of this huge conglomerate
it will be most convenient to begin with the portion that gives
name and character to the whole.
Of China Proper it may be affirmed that the sun shines nowhere on
an equal area which combines so many of the conditions requisite
for the support of an opulent and prosperous people. Lying between
18° and 49° north latitude, her climate is alike exempt from the
fierce heat of the torrid zone and the killing cold of the frigid
regions. There is not one of her provinces in which wheat, rice,
and cotton, the three staples of food and clothing, may not be
cultivated with more or less success; but in the southern half
wheat gives place to rice, while in the north cotton yields to
silk and hemp. In the south cotton is king and rice is queen of
the fields.
Traversed in every direction by mountain ranges of moderate elevation
whose sides are cultivated in
[Page 4]
terraces to such a height as to present the appearance of hanging
gardens, China possesses fertile valleys in fair proportion, together
with vast plains that compare in extent with those of our American
prairie states. Furrowed by great rivers whose innumerable affluents
supply means of irrigation and transport, her barren tracts are
few and small.
A coast-line of three thousand miles indented with gulfs, bays,
and inlets affords countless harbours for shipping, so that few
countries can compare with her in facilities for ocean commerce.
As to her boundaries, on the east six of her eighteen provinces
bathe their feet in the waters of the Pacific; on the south she
clasps hands with Indo-China and with British Burma; and on the
west the foothills of the Himalayas form a bulwark more secure
than the wall that marks her boundary on the north. Greatest of
the works of man, the Great Wall serves at present no other purpose
than that of a mere geographical expression. Built to protect the
fertile fields of the "Flowery Land" from the incursions of northern
nomads, it may have been useful for some generations; but it can
hardly be pronounced an unqualified success, since China in whole
or in part has passed more than half of the twenty-two subsequent
centuries under the domination of Tartars.
With an area of about 1,500,000 square miles, or one-half that of
Europe, China has a busy population of about four hundred millions;
yet, so far from being exhausted, there can be no doubt that with
improved methods in agriculture, manufactures, mining, and
transportation, she might very
[Page 5]
easily sustain double the present number of her thrifty children.
Within this favoured domain the products of nature and of human industry
vie with each other in extent and variety. A bare enumeration would
read like a page of a gazetteer and possibly make no more impression
than a column of figures. To form an estimate of the marvellous
fecundity of the country and to realise its picturesqueness, one
ought to visit the provinces in succession and spend a year in
the exploration of each. If one is precluded from such leisurely
observation, undoubtedly the next best thing is to see them through
the eyes of those who have travelled in and have made a special
study of those regions.
To more than half of the provinces I can offer myself as a guide.
I spent ten years at Ningpo, and one year at Shanghai, both on the
southern seacoast. At the northern capital I spent forty years;
and I have recently passed three years at Wuchang on the banks
of the Yang-tse Kiang, a special coign of vantage for the study
of central China. While residing in the above-mentioned foci it
was my privilege to visit six other provinces (some of them more
than once), thus gaining a personal acquaintance with ten out of
the eighteen and being enabled to gather valuable information at
first hand.
A glance at the subjoined table (from the report of the China Inland
Mission for 1905) will exhibit the magnitude of the field of
investigation before us. The average province corresponds in extent
to the average state of the American Union; and the whole exceeds
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that portion of the United States which lies east of the Mississippi.
CHINA PROPER
---------------------------------------------
PROVINCES | AREA | POPULATION
| SQ. MILES |
-------------------|-----------|-------------
Kwangtung (Canton) | 99,970 | 31,865,000
Kwangsi | 77,200 | 5,142,000
Fukien | 46,320 | 22,876,000
Chéhkiang | 36,670 | 11,580,000
Kiangsu | 38,600 | 13,980,000
Shantung | 55,970 | 38,248,000
Chihli | 115,800 | 20,937,000
Shansi | 81,830 | 12,200,000
Shensi | 75,270 | 8,450,000
Kansuh | 125,450 | 10,385,000
Honan | 67,940 | 35,316,000
Hupeh | 71,410 | 35,280,000
Hunan | 83,380 | 22,170,000
Nganhwei(Anhwei) | 54,810 | 23,670,000
Yünnan | 146,680 | 12,325,000
Szechuen | 218,480 | 68,725,000
Kiangsi | 69,480 | 26,532,000
Kweichau | 67,160 | 7,650,000
-------------------|-----------|-------------
Totals | 1,532,420 | 407,331,000
[Page 7]
CHAPTER II
A JOURNEY THROUGH THE PROVINCES--KWANGTUNG AND KWANGSI
_Hong Kong--A Trip to Canton--Macao--Scenes on Pearl River--Canton
Christian College--Passion for Gambling--A Typical City--A Chief
Source of Emigration_
Let us take an imaginary journey through the provinces and begin
at Hong Kong, where, in 1850, I began my actual experience of life
in China.
From the deck of the good ship _Lantao_, which had brought me
from Boston around the Cape in one hundred and thirty-four days,
I gazed with admiration on the Gibraltar of the Orient. Before me
was a land-locked harbour in which all the navies of the world
might ride in safety. Around me rose a noble chain of hills, their
slopes adorned with fine residences, their valleys a chessboard
of busy streets, with here and there a British battery perched
on a commanding rock.
Under Chinese rule Hong Kong had been an insignificant fishing
village, in fact a nest of pirates. In 1841 the island was ceded
by China to Great Britain, and the cession was confirmed by the
treaty of Nanking in August, 1842. The transformation effected in
less than a decade had been magical; yet that was only the bloom
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of babyhood, compared with the rich maturity of the, present day.
A daily steamer then sufficed for its trade with Canton; a weekly
packet connected it with Shanghai; and the bulk of its merchandise
was still carried in sailing ships or Chinese junks. How astounding
the progress that has marked the last half-century! The streets that
meandered, as it were, among the valleys, or fringed the water's
edge, now girdle the hills like rows of seats in a huge amphitheatre;
a railway lifts the passenger to the mountain top; and other railways
whirl him from hill to hill along the dizzy height. I Trade, too,
has multiplied twenty fold. In a commercial report for the year
ending June, 1905, it is stated that in amount of tonnage Hong
Kong has become the banner port of the world.
Though politically Hong Kong is not China, more than 212,000 of its
busy population (about 221,000) are Chinese; and it is preëminently
the gate of China. By a wise and liberal policy the British Government
has made it the chief emporium of the Eastern seas.
We now take a trip to Canton and cross a bay studded with islands.
These are clothed with copious verdure, but, like all others on the
China coast, lack the crowning beauty of trees. In passing we get
a glimpse of Macao, a pretty town under the flag of the Portuguese,
the pioneers of Eastern trade. The oldest foreign settlement in China,
it dates from 1544--not quite a half-century after the discovery
of the route to India, an achievement whose fourth centenary was
celebrated in 1898. If it could be ascertained on what
[Page 9]
day some adventurous argonaut pushed the quest of the Golden Fleece
to Farther India, as China was then designated, that exploit might
with equal appropriateness be commemorated also.
The city of Macao stands a monument of Lusitanian enterprise.
Beautifully situated on a projecting spur of an island, it is a
favourite summer resort of foreign residents in the metropolis.
It has a population of about 70,000, mostly Chinese, and contains
two tombs that make it sacred in my eyes; namely, that of Camöens,
author of "The Lusiad" and poet of Gama's voyage, and that of Robert
Morrison, the pioneer of Protestant missions, the centennial of
whose arrival had in 1907 a brilliant celebration.
Entering the Pearl River, a fine stream 500 miles in length, whose
affluents spread like a fan over two provinces, we come to the
viceregal capital, as Canton deserves to be called, though the
viceroy actually resides in another city. The river is alive with
steamboats, large and small, mostly under the British flag; but
native craft of the old style have not yet been put to flight.
Propelled by sail or oar, the latter creep along the shore; and at
Pagoda Anchorage near the city they form a floating town in which
families are born and die without ever having a home on _terra
firma_.
Big-footed women are seen earning an honest living by plying the
oar, or swinging on the scull-beam with babies strapped on their
backs. One may notice also the so-called "flower-boats," embellished
like the palaces of water fairies. Moored in one locality, they
are a well-known resort of the vicious. In the fields are
[Page 10]
the tillers of the soil wading barefoot and bareheaded in mud and
water, holding plough or harrow drawn by an amphibious creature
called a carabao or water-buffalo, burying by hand in the mire
the roots of young rice plants, or applying as a fertiliser the
ordure and garbage of the city. Such unpoetic toils never could
have inspired the georgic muse of Vergil or Thomson.
The most picturesque structure that strikes the eye as one approaches
the city is a Christian college--showing how times have changed.
In 1850 the foreign quarter was in a suburb near one of the gates.
There I dined with Sir John Bowring at the British Consulate, having
a letter of introduction from his American cousin, Miss Maylin, a
gifted lady of Philadelphia. There, too, I lodged with Dr. Happer,
who by the tireless exertions of many years succeeded in laying
the foundations of that same Christian college. For him it is a
monument more lasting than brass; for China it is only one of many
lighthouses now rising at commanding points on the seacoast and
in the interior.
In passing the Fati, a recreation-ground near the city, a view
is obtained of the amusements of the rich and the profligate. We
see a multitude seated around a cockpit intent on a cock-fight; but
the cocks are quails, not barnyard fowls. Here, too, is a smaller
and more exclusive circle stooping over a pair of crickets engaged
in deadly combat. Insects of other sorts or pugnacious birds are
sometimes substituted; and it might be supposed that the people
must be warlike in their disposition, to enjoy such spectacles.
The fact is, they are fond of fighting by proxy. What attracts them
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most, however, is the chance of winning or losing a wager.
A more intellectual entertainment to be seen in many places is the
solving of historical enigmas. Some ancient celebrity is represented
by an animal in a rhyming couplet; and the man who detects the hero
under this disguise wins a considerable sum. Such is the native
passion for gambling that bets are even made on the result of the
metropolitan examinations, particularly on the province to which will
fall the honour of the first prize, that of the scholar-laureateship.
Officials in all parts and benevolent societies take advantage
of this passion for gambling in opening lotteries to raise funds
for worthy objects--a policy which is unwise if not immoral. It
should not be forgotten, however, that our own forefathers sometimes
had recourse to lotteries to build churches.
The foreign settlement now stands on Shamien, a pretty islet in
the river, in splendid contrast with the squalor of the native
streets. The city wall is not conspicuous, if indeed it is visible
beyond the houses of a crowded suburb. Yet one may be sure that it
is there; for every large town must have a wall for protection,
and the whole empire counts no fewer than 1,553 walled cities.
What an index to the insecurity resulting from an ill-regulated
police! The Chinese are surprised to hear that in all the United
States there is nothing which they would call a city, because the
American cities are destitute of walls.
Canton with its suburbs contains over two million people; it is
therefore the most populous city in the empire. In general the
houses are low, dark, and
[Page 12]
dirty, and the streets are for the most part too narrow for anything
broader than a sedan or a "rickshaw" (jinriksha). Yet in city and
suburbs the eye is dazzled by the richness of the shops, especially
of those dealing in silks and embroideries. In strong contrast with
this luxurious profusion may be seen crowds of beggars displaying
their loathsome sores at the doors of the rich in order to extort
thereby a penny from those who might not be disposed to give from
motives of charity. The narrow streets are thronged with coolies
in quality of beasts of burden, having their loads suspended from
each end of an elastic pole balanced on the shoulder, or carrying
their betters in sedan chairs, two bearers for a commoner, four
for a "swell," and six or eight for a magnate. High officials borne
in these luxurious vehicles are accompanied by lictors on horse or
foot. Bridegrooms and brides are allowed to pose for the nonce as
grandees; and the bridal chair, whose drapery blends the rainbow
and the butterfly, is heralded by a band of music, the blowing of
horns, and the clashing of cymbals. The block and jam thus occasioned
are such as no people except the patient Chinese would tolerate.
They bow to custom and smile at inconvenience. Of horse-cars or
carriages there are none except in new streets. Rickshaws and
wheelbarrows push their way in the narrowest alleys, and compete
with sedans for a share of the passenger traffic.
In those blue hills that hang like clouds on the verge of the horizon
and bear the poetical name of White Cloud, there are gardens that
combine in rich variety the fruits of both the torrid and the temperate
zones. Tea and silk are grown in many other
[Page 13]
parts of China; but here they are produced of a superior quality.
Enterprising and intelligent, the people of this province have
overflowed into the islands of the Pacific from Singapore to Honolulu.
Touching at Java in 1850, I found refreshments at the shop of a
Canton man who showed a manifest superiority to the natives of the
island. Is it not to be regretted that the Chinese are excluded
from the Philippines? Would not the future of that archipelago
be brighter if the shiftless native were replaced by the thrifty
Chinaman?
It was in Canton that American trade suffered most from the boycott
of 1905, because there the ill-treatment of Chinese in America was
most deeply felt, the Chinese in California being almost exclusively
from the province of Canton.
The viceroy of Canton has also the province of Kwangsi under his
jurisdiction. Mountainous and thinly peopled, it is regarded by
its associate as a burden, being in an almost chronic state of
rebellion and requiring large armies to keep its turbulent inhabitants
in order.
[Page 14]
CHAPTER III
PROVINCE OF FUKIEN
_Amoy--Bold Navigators--Foochow--Mountain of Kushan--The Bridge
of Ten Thousand Years_
Following the coast to the north some three hundred miles we come
to Amoy, the first important seaport in the adjacent province of
Fukien. The aspect of the country has undergone a change. Hills
attain the altitude of mountains, and the alluvial plains, so
conspicuous about Canton, become contracted to narrow valleys.
The people, too, are changed in speech and feature. Taller, coarser
in physiognomy, with high cheek-bones and harsh voices, their dialect
is totally unintelligible to people of the neighbouring province.
As an example of the diversity of dialects in China, may be cited
the Chinese word for man. In some parts of Fukien it is _long_;
in Canton, _yan_ or _yin_; at Ningpo, _ning_; and
at Peking, _jin_.
One is left in doubt whether the people or the mountains which
they inhabit were the most prominent factors in determining the
dividing line that separates them from their neighbours on the
south and west. In enterprise and energy they rival the Cantonese.
They are bold navigators; the grand island of Formosa, now ceded
to Japan, was colonised by them; and by
[Page 15]
them also the savage aborigines were driven over to the east coast.
A peculiar sort of black tea is grown on these mountains, and, along
with grass cloth, forms a staple in the trade of Amoy. The harbour
is not wanting in beauty; and a view from one of the hill-tops, from
which hundreds of villages are visible, is highly picturesque.
Of the town of Amoy with its 200,000 people there is not much to
be said except that several missions, British and American, which
opened stations there soon after the first war with Great Britain,
have met with encouraging success. At Swatow, a district in Canton
Province beyond the boundary, the American Baptists have a flourishing
mission.
Entering the Formosan Channel we proceed to the mouth of the Min,
a fine river which leads up to Foochow (Fuchau), some thirty miles
inland. We do not stop to explore the Island of Formosa because,
having been ceded to Japan, it no longer forms a part of the Chinese
Empire. From the river the whole province is sometimes described
as "the country of Min"; but its official name is Fukien. This
name does not signify "happily established," as stated in most
books, but is compounded of the names of its two chief cities by
taking the first syllable of each, somewhat as the pioneer settlers
of Arkansas formed the name of the boundary town of Texarkana.
The names of some other provinces of China are formed in the same
way; e.g. Kiangsu, Kansuh, and that of the viceregal district of
Yünkwei.
Kushan, a mountain on the bank of the river, is famed for its scenery;
and, as with mountains everywhere else in China, it has been made
the seat of a
[Page 16]
Buddhist monastery, with some scores of monks passing their time
not in contemplation, but in idleness.
The city of Foochow is imposing with its fine wall of stone, and
a long stone bridge called Wansuik'iao "the bridge of ten thousand
years." It has a population of about 650,000. To add to its importance
it has a garrison or colony of Manchus who from the date of the
conquest in 1644 have lived apart from the Chinese and have not
diminished in numbers.
The American Board and the Methodist Episcopal Board have large and
prosperous missions at this great centre, and from this base they
have ramified through the surrounding mountains, mostly following
the tributaries of the Min up to their sources. In 1850 I was
entertained at Foochow by the Rev. Dr. C. C. Baldwin, who, I am
glad to say, still lives after the lapse of fifty-five years; but
he is no longer in the mission field.
[Page 17]
CHAPTER IV
PROVINCE OF CHÉHKIANG
_Chusan Archipelago--Putu and Pirates--Queer Fishers and Queer
Boats--Ningpo--A Literary Triumph--Search for a Soul--Chinese
Psychology--Hangchow--The Great Bore_
Chéhkiang, the next province to the north, and the smallest of
the eighteen, is a portion of the highlands mentioned in the last
chapter. It is about as large as Indiana, while some of the provinces
have four or five times that area. There is no apparent reason
why it should have a distinct provincial government save that its
waters flow to the north, or perhaps because the principality of
Yuih (1100 B.C.) had such a boundary, or, again, perhaps because
the language of the people is akin to that of the Great Plain in
which its chief river finds an outlet. How often does a conqueror
sever regions which form a natural unit, merely to provide a
principality for some favourite!
Lying off its coast is the Chusan archipelago, in which two islands
are worthy of notice. The largest, which gives the archipelago
its name, is about half the length of Long Island, N. Y., and is
so called from a fancied resemblance to a junk, it having a high
promontory at either end. It contains eighteen valleys--a division
not connected with the eighteen provinces, but
[Page 18]
perpetuated in a popular rhyme which reflects severely on the morals
of its inhabitants. Shielded by the sea, and near enough to the
land to strike with ease at any point of the neighbouring coast,
the British forces found here a secure camping-ground in their
first war.
To the eastward lies the sacred Isle of Putu, the Iona of the China
coast. With a noble landscape, and so little land as to offer no
temptation to the worldly, it was inevitable that the Buddhists
should fix on it as a natural cloister. For many centuries it has been
famous for its monasteries, some of which are built of timbers taken
from imperial palaces. Formerly the missionaries from neighbouring
seaports found at Putu refuge from the summer heat, but it is now
abandoned, since it afforded no shelter from the petty piracy at
all times so rife in these waters.
In 1855 Mr. (afterward Bishop) Russell and myself were captured by
pirates while on our way to Putu. The most gentlemanly freebooters
I ever heard of, they invited us to share their breakfast on the
deck of our own junk; but they took possession of all our provisions
and our junk too, sending us to our destination in a small boat,
and promising to pay us a friendly visit on the island. One of
them, who had taken my friend's watch, came to the owner to ask him
how to wind it. The Rev. Walter Lowrie, founder of the Presbyterian
Mission at Ningpo, was not so fortunate. Attacked by pirates nearly
on the same spot, he was thrown into the sea and drowned.
Passing these islands we come to the Ningpo River, with Chinhai,
a small city, at its mouth, and Ningpo,
[Page 19]
a great emporium, some twelve miles inland. This curious arrangement,
so different from what one would expect, confronts one in China with
the regularity of a natural law: Canton, Shanghai, Foochow, and
Tientsin, all conform to it. The small city stands at the anchorage
for heavy shipping; but the great city, renouncing this advantage,
is located some distance inland, to be safe from sea-robbers and
foreign foes.
As we ascend the river we are struck with more than one peculiar
mode of taking fish. We see a number of cormorants perched on the
sides of a boat. Now and then a bird dives into the water and comes
up with a fish in its beak. If the fish be a small one, the bird
swallows it as a reward for its services; but a fish of considerable
size is hindered in its descent by a ring around the bird's neck
and becomes the booty of the fisherman. The birds appear to be
well-trained; and their sharp eyes penetrate the depths of the
water. Another novelty in fishing is a contrivance by which fish are
made to catch themselves--not by running into a net or by swallowing
a hook, but by leaping over a white board and falling into a boat.
More strange than all are men who, like the cormorants, dive into
the water and emerge with fish--sometimes with one in either hand.
These fishermen when in the water always have their feet on the
ground and grope along the shore. The first time I saw this method
in practice I ran to the brink of the river to save, as I thought,
the life of a poor man. He no sooner raised his head out of the
water, however, than down it went again; and I was laughed at for
my want of discernment by a crowd of people who shouted _Ko-ng,
Ko-ng_, "he's catching fish."
[Page 20]
The natives have a peculiar mode of propelling a boat. Sitting
in the stern the boatman holds the helm with one hand, while with
the other he grasps a long pipe which he smokes at leisure. Without
mast or sail, he makes speed against wind or current by making
use of his feet to drive the oar. He thus gains the advantage of
weight and of his strong sartorial muscles. These little craft
are the swiftest boats on the river.
At the forks of the river, in a broad plain dotted with villages,
rise the stone walls of Ningpo, six miles in circuit, enclosing
a network of streets better built than those of the majority of
Chinese cities. The foreign settlement is on the north bank of
the main stream; but a few missionaries live within the walls, and
there I passed the first years of my life in China.
Above the walls, conspicuous at a distance, appears the pinnacle
of a lofty pagoda, a structure like most of those bearing the name,
with eight corners and nine stories. Originally designed for the
mere purposes of look-outs, these airy edifices have degenerated
into appliances of superstition to attract good influences and
to ward off evil.
Not only has this section of the province a dialect of its own,
of the mandarin type, but its people possess a finer physique than
those of the south. Taller, with eyes less angular and faces of
faultless symmetry, they are a handsome people, famed alike for
literary talent and for commercial enterprise. During my residence
there the whole city was once thrown into excitement by the news
that one of her sons had won the first prize in prose and verse
in competition, before the emperor, with the assembled scholars
of the empire--an
[Page 21]
an honour comparable to that of poet laureate or of a victor in
the Olympic games. When that distinction falls to a city, it is
believed that, in order to equalise matters, the event is sure
to be followed by three years of dearth. In this instance, the
highest mandarins escorted the wife of the literary athlete to
the top of the wall, where she scattered a few handfuls of rice
to avert the impending famine.
My house was attached to a new church which was surmounted by a
bell-tower. In a place where nothing of the sort had previously
existed, that accessory attracted many visitors even before the bell
was in position to invite them. One day a weeping mother, attended
by an anxious retinue, presented herself and asked permission to
climb the tower, which request of course was not refused.
Uncovering a bundle, she said: "This is my boy's clothing. Yesterday
he was up in the tower and, taking fright at the height of the
building, his little soul forsook his body and he had to go home
without it. He is now delirious with fever. We think the soul is
hovering about in this huge edifice and that it will recognise
these clothes and, taking possession of them, will return home with
us."
When a bird escapes from its cage the Chinese sometimes hang the
cage on the branch of a tree and the bird returns to its house
again. They believe they can capture a fugitive soul in the same
way. Sometimes, too, a man may be seen standing on a housetop at
night waving a lantern and chanting in dismal tones an invitation
to some wandering spirit to return to its abode. Whether in the
case just mentioned the poor
[Page 22]
woman's hopes were fulfilled and whether the _animula vagula
blandula_ returned from its wanderings I never learned, but I
mention the incident as exhibiting another picturesque superstition.
Chinese psychology recognises three souls, viz., the animal, the
spiritual, and the intellectual. The absence of one of the three
does not, therefore, involve immediate death, as does the departure
of the soul in our dual system.
But I tarry too long at my old home. We have practically an empire
still before us, and will, therefore, steer west for Hangchow.
In the thirteenth century this was the residence of an imperial
court; and the provincial capital still retains many signs of imperial
magnificence. The West Lake with its pavilions and its lilies,
a pleasance fit for an emperor; the vast circuit of the city's
walls enclosing hill and vale; and its commanding site on the bank
of a great river at the head of a broad bay--all combine to invest
it with dignity. Well do I recall the day in 1855 when white men
first trod its streets. They were the Rev. Henry Rankin and myself.
Though not permitted by treaty to penetrate even the rind of the
"melon," as the Chinese call their empire, to a distance farther
than admitted of our returning to sleep at home, we nevertheless
broke bounds and set out for the old capital of the Sungs. On the
way we made a halt at the city of Shaohing; and as we were preaching
to a numerous and respectful audience in the public square, a
well-dressed man pressed through the crowd and invited us to do
him the honour of taking tea at his house. His mansion exhibited every
[Page 23]
evidence of affluence; and he, a scholar by profession, aspiring
to the honours of the mandarinate, explained, as he ordered for
us an ample repast, that he would have felt ashamed if scholars
from the West had been allowed to pass through his city without
anyone offering them hospitality. What courtesy! Could Hebrew or
Arab hospitality surpass it?
Two things for which the city of Shaohing is widely celebrated
are (1) a sort of rice wine used throughout the Empire as being
indispensable at mandarin feasts, and (2) clever lawyers who are
deemed indispensable as legal advisers to mandarins. They are the
"Philadelphia lawyers" of China.
As we entered Hangchow the boys shouted _Wo tsei lai liao_,
"the Japanese are coming "--never having seen a European, and having
heard their fathers speak of the Japanese as sea-robbers, a terror
to the Chinese coast. Up to this date, Japan had no treaty with
China, and it had never carried on any sort of regular commerce
with or acknowledged the superiority of China. Before many years
had passed, these youths became accustomed to Western garb and
features; and I never heard that any foreigner suffered insult or
injury at their hands.
In 1860 the Rev. J. L. Nevius, one of my colleagues, took possession
of the place in the name of Christ. He was soon followed by Bishop
Burden, of the English Church Mission, whose apostolic successor,
Bishop Moule, now makes it the seat of his immense diocese.
Another claim to distinction not to be overlooked is that its river
is a trap for whales. Seven or eight years ago a cetaceous monster
was stranded near the
[Page 24]
river's mouth. The Rev. Dr. Judson, president of the Hangchow Mission
College, went to see it and sent me an account of his observations.
He estimated the length of the whale at 100 feet; the tail had been
removed by the natives. To explain the incident it is necessary
to say that, the bay being funnel-shaped, the tides rise to an
extraordinary height. Twice a month, at the full and the change of
the moon, the attractions of sun and moon combine, and the water
rushes in with a roar like that of a tidal wave. The bore of Hangchow
is not surpassed by that of the Hooghly or of the Bay of Fundy.
Vessels are wrecked by it; and even the monsters of the deep are
unable to contend with the fury of its irresistible advance.
[Page 25]
CHAPTER V
PROVINCE OF KIANGSU
_Nanking--Shanghai--The Yang-tse Kiang--The Yellow River_
Bordering on the sea, traversed by the Grand Canal and the Yang-tse
Kiang, the chief river of the Empire, rich in agriculture, fisheries,
and commerce, Kiangsu is the undisputed queen of the eighteen provinces.
In 1905 it was represented to the throne as too heavy a burden for
one set of officers. The northern section was therefore detached and
erected into a separate province; but before the new government was
organised the Empress Dowager yielded to remonstrances and rescinded
her hasty decree--showing how reluctant she is to contravene the
wishes of her people. What China requires above all things is the
ballot box, by which the people may make their wishes known.
The name of the province is derived from its two chief cities,
Suchow and Nanking. Suchow, the Paris of the Far East, is coupled
with Hangchow in a popular rhyme, which represents the two as paragon
cities:
_"Shang yu t'ien t'ang hia yu Su-Hang."_
"Su and Hang, so rich and fair,
May well with Paradise compare."
[Page 26]
The local dialect is so soft and musical that strolling players from
Suchow are much sought for in the adjacent provinces. A well-known
couplet says:
"I'd rather hear men wrangle in Suchow's dulcet tones
Than hear that mountain jargon, composed of sighs and groans."
Farther inland, near the banks of the "Great River," stands Nanking,
the old capital of the Ming dynasty. The Manchus, unwilling to
call it a _king_, _i.e._ seat of empire, changed its
name to Kiangning; but the old title survives in spite of official
jealousy. As it will figure prominently in our history we shall
not pause there at present, but proceed to Shanghai, a place which
more than any other controls the destinies of the State.
Formerly an insignificant town of the third order (provincial capitals
and prefectural towns ranking respectively first and second), some
sapient Englishman with an eye to commerce perceived the advantage
of the site; and in the dictation of the terms of peace in 1842 it
was made one of the five ports. It has come to overshadow Canton;
and more than all the other ports it displays to the Chinese the
marvels of Western skill, knowledge, and enterprise.
On a broad estuary near the mouth of the main artery that penetrates
the heart of China, it has become a leading emporium of the world's
commerce. The native city still hides its squalor behind low walls
of brick, but outside the North Gate lies a tract of land known
as the "Foreign Concessions." There a beautiful city styled the
"model settlement" has sprung up like a gorgeous pond-lily from
the muddy,
[Page 27]
paddy-fields. Having spent a year there, I regard it with a sort
of affection as one of my Oriental homes.
Shanghai presents a spectacle rare amongst the seaports of the
world. Its broad streets, well kept and soon to be provided with
electric trolleys, extend for miles along the banks of two rivers,
lined with opulent business houses and luxurious mansions, most of
the latter being surrounded by gardens and embowered in groves
of flowering trees. Nor do these magazines and dwelling-houses
stand merely for taste and opulence. Within the bounds of the
Concessions is the reign of law--not, as elsewhere in China, the
arbitrary will of a magistrate, but the offspring of freedom and
justice. Foreigners live everywhere under the protection of their
own national flags: and within the Concessions. Chinese accused of
crimes are tried by a mixed court which serves as an object-lesson
in justice and humanity. Had one time to peep into a native
_yamên_, one might see bundles of bamboos, large and small,
prepared for the bastinado; one might see, also, thumb-screws,
wooden boots, wooden collars, and other instruments of torture,
some of them intended to make mince-meat of the human body. The
use of these has now been forbidden.[*]
[Footnote *: In another city a farmer having extorted a sum of money
from a tailor living within the Concession, the latter appealed
to the British consul for Justice. The consul, an inexperienced
young man, observing that the case concerned only the Chinese,
referred it to the city magistrate, who instantly ordered the tailor
to receive a hundred blows for having applied to a foreign court.]
In Shanghai there are schools of all grades, some under the foreign
municipal government, others under missionary societies. St. John's
College (U. S.
[Page 28]
Episcopal) and the Anglo-Chinese College (American M. E.) bear the
palm in the line of education so long borne by the Roman Catholics
of Siccawei. Added to these, newspapers foreign and native--the
latter exercising a freedom of opinion impossible beyond the limits
of this city of refuge--the Society for the Diffusion of Christian
Knowledge and other translation bureaux, foreign and native, turning
out books by the thousand with the aid of steam presses, form a
combination of forces to which China is no longer insensible.
Resuming our imaginary voyage we proceed northward, and in the
space of an hour find ourselves at the mouth of the Yang-tse Kiang,
or Ta Kiang, the "Great River," as the Chinese call it. The width
of its embouchure suggests an Asiatic rival of the Amazon and La
Plata. We now see why this part of the ocean is sometimes described
as the Yellow Sea. A river whose volume, it is said, equals that of
two hundred and forty-four such rivulets as Father Thames, pours
into it its muddy waters, making new islands and advancing the
shore far into the domain of Neptune.
Notice on the left those long rows of trees that appear to spring
from the bosom of the river. They are the life-belt of the Island
of Tsungming which six centuries ago rose like the fabled Delos
from the surface of the turbid waters. Accepted as the river's
tribute to the Dragon Throne, it now forms a district of the province
with a population of over half a million. About the same time,
a large tract of land was carried into the sea by the Hwang Ho,
the "Yellow River," which gave rise to the popular proverb, "If
we lose in Tungking we gain in Tsungming."
[Page 29]
The former river comes with its mouth full of pearls; the latter
yawns to engulf the adjacent land. At present, however, the Yellow
River is dry and thirsty, the unruly stream, the opposite of Horace's
_uxorius amnis_, having about forty years ago forsaken its
old bed and rushed away to the Gulf of Pechili (Peh-chihli). This
produced as much consternation as the Mississippi would occasion
if it should plough its way across the state that bears its name
and enter the Gulf of Mexico at Mobile Bay. The same phenomenon
has occurred at long intervals in times past. The wilful stream
has oscillated with something like periodical regularity from side
to side of the Shantung promontory, and sometimes it has flowed
with a divided current, converting that territory into an island.
Now, however, the river seems to have settled itself in its new
channel, entering the gulf at Yang Chia Kow--a place which foreign
sailors describe as "Yankee cow"--and making a portentous alteration
in the geography of the globe.
[Page 30]
CHAPTER VI
PROVINCE OF SHANTUNG
_Kiao-Chao--Visit to Confucius's Tomb--Expedition to the Jews
of K'ai-fung-fu--The Grand Canal--Chefoo_
In Shantung the people appear to be much more robust than their
neighbours to the south. Wheat and millet rather than rice are
their staple food. In their orchards apples, pears and peaches take
the place of oranges.
At Kiao-chao (Kiau-Chau) the Germans, who occupied that port in
1897, have built a beautiful town opposite the Island of Tsingtao,
presenting a fine model for imitation, which, however, the Chinese
are not in haste to copy. They have constructed also a railway from
the sea to Tsinan-fu, very nearly bisecting the province. Weihien
is destined to become a railroad centre; and several missionary
societies are erecting colleges there to teach the people truths
that Confucius never knew. More than half a century ago, when a
missionary distributed Christian books in that region, the people
brought them back saying, "We have the works of our Sage, and they
are sufficient for us." Will not the new arts and sciences of the
West convince them that their Sage was not omniscient?
In 1866 I earned the honours of a _hadji_ by visiting the tomb
of Confucius--a magnificent mausoleum surrounded by his descendants
of the seventieth generation,
[Page 31]
one of whom in quality of high priest to China's greatest teacher
enjoys the rank of a hereditary duke.
On that occasion, I had come up from a visit to the Jews in Honan.
Having profited by a winter vacation to make an expedition to
K'ai-fung-fu, I had the intention of pushing on athwart the province
to Hankow. The interior, however, as I learned to my intense
disappointment, was convulsed with rebellion. No cart driver was
willing to venture his neck, his steed, and his vehicle by going
in that direction. I accordingly steered for the Mecca of Shantung,
and, having paid my respects to the memory of China's greatest sage,
struck the Grand Canal and proceeded to Shanghai. From K'ai-fung-fu
I had come by land slowly, painfully, and not without danger. From
Tsi-ning I drifted down with luxurious ease in a well-appointed
house-boat, meditating poetic terms in which to describe the contrast.
The canal deserves the name of "grand" as the wall on the north
deserves the name of "great." Memorials of ancient times, they both
still stand unrivalled by anything the Western world has to show,
if one except the Siberian Railway. The Great Wan is an effete relic
no longer of use; and it appears to be satire on human foresight
that the Grand Canal should have been built by the very people
whom the Great Wall was intended to exclude from China. The canal
is as useful to-day as it was six centuries ago, and remains the
chief glory of the Mongol dynasty.
Kublai having set up his throne in the north, and completed the
conquest of the eighteen provinces, ordered the construction of
this magnificent waterway,
[Page 32]
which extends 800 miles from Peking to Hangchow and connects with
other waterways which put the northern capital in roundabout
communication with provinces of the extreme south. His object was
to tap the rice-fields of Central China and obtain a food supply
which could not be interfered with by those daring sea-robbers,
the redoubtable Japanese, who had destroyed his fleets and rendered
abortive his attempt at conquest. Of the Great Wall, it may be said
that the oppression inseparable from its construction hastened
the overthrow of the house of its builder. The same is probably
true of the Grand Canal. The myriads of unpaid labourers who were
drafted by _corvée_ from among the Chinese people subsequently
enlisted, they or their children, under the revolutionary banner
which expelled the oppressive Mongols.
Another port in this province which we cannot pass without an admiring
glance, is Chefoo (Chifu). On a fine hill rising from the sea wave the
flags of several nations; in the harbour is a cluster of islands; and
above the settlement another noble hill rears its head crowned with
a temple and groves of trees. On its sides and near the seashore are
the residences of missionaries. There I have more than once found
a refuge from the summer heat, under the hospitable roof of Mrs.
Nevius, the widow of my friend Dr. J. L. Nevius, who, after opening
a mission in Hangchow, became one of the pioneers of Shantung. In
Chefoo he planted not only a church, but a fruit garden. To the
Chinese eye this garden was a striking symbol of what his gospel
proposed to effect for the people.
[Page 33]
CHAPTER VII
PROVINCE OF CHIHLI
_Taku--Tientsin--Peking--The Summer Palace--Patachu--Temples
of Heaven, Earth, and Agriculture--Foreign Quarter--The Forbidden
City--King-Han Railway--Paoting-fu_
Crossing the gulf we reach Taku, at the mouth of the Peiho, and,
passing the dismantled forts, ascend the river to Tientsin.
In 1858 I spent two months at Taku and Tientsin in connection with
the tedious negotiations of that year. At the latter place I became
familiar with the dusty road to the treaty temple; and at the former
witnessed the capture of the forts by the combined squadrons of
Great Britain and France. The next year on the same ground I saw
the allied forces repulsed with heavy loss--a defeat avenged by
the capture of Peking in 1860.
In the Boxer War the relief force met with formidable opposition
at Tientsin. The place has, however, risen with new splendour from
its half-ruined condition, and now poses as the principal residence
of the most powerful of the viceroys. Connected by the river with
the seaboard, by the Grand Canal with several provinces to the south,
and by rail with Peking, Hankow and Manchuria, Tientsin commands
the chief lines of
[Page 34]
communication in northern China. In point of trade it ranks as the
third in importance of the treaty ports.
Three hours by rail bring us to the gates of Peking, the northern
capital. Formerly it took another hour to get within the city.
Superstition or suspicion kept the railway station at a distance;
now, however, it is at the Great Central Gate. Unlike Nanking,
Peking has nothing picturesque or commanding in its location. On
the west and north, at a distance of ten to twenty miles, ranges
of blue hills form a feature in the landscape. Within these limits
the eye rests on nothing but flat fields, interspersed with clumps
of trees overshadowing some family cemetery or the grave of some
grandee.
Between the city and the hills are the Yuen Ming Yuen, the Emperor's
summer palace, burnt in 1860 and still an unsightly ruin, and the
Eho Yuen, the summer residence of the Empress Dowager. Enclosing
two or three pretty hills and near to a lofty range, the latter
occupies a site of rare beauty. It also possesses mountain water
in rich abundance. No fewer than twenty-four springs gush from
the base of one of its hills, feeding a pretty lake and numberless
canals. Partly destroyed in 1860, this palace was for many years as
silent as the halls of Palmyra. I have often wandered through its
neglected grounds. Now, every prominent rock is crowned with pagoda
or pavilion. There are, however, some things which the slave of the
lamp is unable to produce even at the command of an empress--there
are no venerable oaks or tall pines to lend their majesty to the
scene.
Patachu, in the adjacent hills, used to be a favourite
[Page 35]
summer resort for the legations and other foreigners before the
seaside became accessible by rail. Its name, signifying the "eight
great places," denotes that number of Buddhist temples, built one
above another in a winding gorge on the hillside. In the highest,
called Pearl Grotto, 1,200 feet above the sea, I have found repose
for many a summer. I am there now (June, 1906), and there I expect
to write the closing chapters of this work. These temples are at my
feet; the great city is in full view. To that shrine the emperors
sometimes made excursions to obtain a distant prospect of the world.
One of them, Kien Lung, somewhat noted as a poet, has left, inscribed
on a rock, a few lines commemorative of his visit:
"Why have I scaled this dizzy height?
Why sought this mountain den?
I tread as on enchanted ground,
Unlike the abode of men.
"Beneath my feet my realm I see
As in a map unrolled,
Above my head a canopy
Adorned with clouds of gold."
The capital consists of two parts: the Tartar city, a square of
four miles; and the Chinese city, measuring five miles by three.
They are separated by imposing walls with lofty towers, the outer
wall being twenty-one miles in circuit. At present the subject
people are permitted to mingle freely with their conquerors; but
most of the business is done in the Chinese city. Resembling other
Chinese towns in its unsavoury condition, this section contains two
imperial temples of great sanctity. One of these, the Temple of Heaven,
[Page 36]
has a circular altar of fine white marble with an azure dome in
its centre in imitation of the celestial vault. Here the Emperor
announces his accession, prays for rain, and offers an ox as a burnt
sacrifice at the winter solstice--addressing himself to Shang-ti,
the supreme ruler, "by whom kings reign and princes decree justice."
The Temple of Agriculture, which stands at a short distance from
that just mentioned, was erected in honour of the first man who
cultivated the earth. In Chinese, he has no name, his title, Shin-nung
signifying the "divine husbandman"--a masculine Ceres. Might we not
call the place the Temple of Cain? There the Emperor does honour
to husbandry by ploughing a few furrows at the vernal equinox.
His example no doubt tends to encourage and comfort his toiling
subjects.
Another temple associated with these is that of Mother Earth, the
personified consort of Heaven; but it is not in this locality.
The eternal fitness of things requires that it should be outside
of the walls and on the north. It has a square altar, because the
earth is supposed to have "four corners." "Heaven is round and
Earth square," is the first line of a school reader for boys. The
Tartar city is laid out with perfect regularity, and its streets
and alleys are all of convenient width.
Passing from the Chinese city through the Great Central Gate we
enter Legation Street, so called because most of the legations
are situated on or near it. Architecturally they make no show,
being of one story, or at most two stories, in height and hidden
[Page 37]
behind high walls. So high and strong are the walls of the British
Legation that in the Boxer War of 1900 it served the whole community
for a fortress, wherein we sustained a siege of eight weeks. A
marble obelisk near the Legation gate commemorates the siege, and
a marble gateway on a neighbouring street marks the spot where
Baron Ketteler was shot. Since that war a foreign quarter has been
marked out, the approaches to which have been partially fortified.
The streets are now greatly improved; ruined buildings have been
repaired; and the general appearance of the old city has been altered
for the better.
Two more walled enclosures have to be passed before we arrive at
the palace. One of them forms a protected barrack or camping-ground
for the palace guards and other officials attendant on the court. The
other is a sacred precinct shielded from vulgar eyes and intrusive
feet, and bears the name "Forbidden City." In the year following the
flight of the court these palaces were guarded by foreign troops,
and were thrown open to foreign visitors.
Marble bridges, balustrades, and stairways bewilder a stranger.
Dragons, phoenixes and other imaginary monsters carved on doorways
and pillars warn him that he is treading on sacred ground. The
ground, though paved with granite, is far from clean; and the
costly carvings within remind one of the saying of an Oriental
monarch, "The spider taketh hold with her hands and is in kings'
houses." None of the buildings has more than one story, but the
throne-rooms and great halls are so lofty as to suggest the dome
of a cathedral. The roofs are all covered with tiles of a
[Page 38]
yellow hue, a colour which even princes are not permitted to use.
Separated from the palace by a moat and a wall is Prospect Hill,
a charming elevation which serves as an imperial garden. On the
fall of the city in 1643 the last of the Mings hanged himself
there--after having stabbed his daughter, like another Virginius,
as a last proof of paternal affection.
From the gate of the Forbidden City to the palace officials high
and low must go on foot, unless His Majesty by special favour confers
the privilege of riding on horseback, a distinction which is always
announced in the _Gazette_ by the statement that His Majesty
has "given a horse" to So-and-So. No trolleys are to be seen in
the streets, and four-wheeled carriages are rare and recent. Carts,
camels, wheel-barrows, and the ubiquitous rickshaw are the means
of transport and locomotion. The canals are open sewers never used
for boats.
Not lacking in barbaric splendour, as regards the convenience of
living this famous capital will not compare with a country village of
the Western world. On the same parallel as Philadelphia, but dryer,
hotter, and colder, the climate is so superb that the city, though
lacking a system of sanitation, has a remarkably low death-rate.
In 1859 I first entered its gates. In 1863 I came here to reside.
More than any other place on earth it has been to me a home; and
here I am not unlikely to close my pilgrimage.
On my first visit, I made use of Byron's lines on Lisbon to express my
impressions of Peking. Though there are now some signs of improvement
in the city
[Page 39]
the quotation can hardly be considered as inapplicable at the present
time. Here it is for the convenience of the next traveller:
"...Whoso entereth within this town,
That, sheening far, celestial seems to be,
Disconsolate will wander up and down,
'Mid many things unsightly to strange ee:
For hut and palace show like filthily:
The dingy denizens are rear'd in dirt;
Ne personage of high or mean degree
Doth care for cleanness of surtout or shirt..."
(_Childe Harold's Pilgrimage, Canto the First_, st. xvii.)
Returning to the station we face about for the south and take tickets
for Paoting-fu. We are on the first grand trunk railway of this
empire. It might indeed be described as a vertebral column from
which iron roads will ere long be extended laterally on either side,
like ribs, to support and bind together the huge frame. Undertaken
about twelve years ago it has only recently been completed as far
as Hankow, about six hundred miles. The last spike in the bridge
across the Yellow River was driven in August, 1905, and since that
time through trains have been running from the capital to the banks
of the Yang-tse Kiang.
This portion has been constructed by a Belgian syndicate, and their
task has been admirably performed. I wish I could say as much of
the other half (from Hankow to Canton), the contract for which
was given to an American company. After a preliminary survey this
company did no work, but, under pretext of waiting for tranquil
times, watched the fluctuations of the share market. The whole
enterprise was eventually
[Page 40]
taken over by a native company opposed to foreign ownership--at an
advance of 300 per cent. It was a clever deal; but the Americans
sacrificed the credit and the influence of their country, and a
grand opportunity was lost through cupidity and want of patriotism.
This iron highway is destined in the near future to exert a mighty
influence on people and government. It will bring the provinces
together and make them feel their unity. It will also insure that
communication between the north and the south shall not be interrupted
as it might be were it dependent on sea or canal. These advantages
must have been so patent as to overcome an inbred hostility to
development. Instead of being a danger, these railways are bound
to become a source of incalculable strength.
Paoting-fu was the scene of a sad tragedy in 1900, and when avenging
troops appeared on the scene, and saw the charred bones of missionaries
among the ashes of their dwellings, they were bent on destroying
the whole city, but a missionary who served as guide begged them
to spare the place. So grateful were the inhabitants for his kindly
intervention that they bestowed on the mission a large plot of
ground--showing that, however easily wrought up, they were not
altogether destitute of the better feelings of humanity.
Continuing our journey through half a dozen considerable cities,
at one of which, Shunteh-fu, an American mission has recently been
opened, we reach the borders of the province of Honan.
[Page 41]
CHAPTER VIII
PROVINCE OF HONAN
_A Great Bridge--K'ai-fung-fu--Yellow Jews_
Passing the border city of Weihwei-fu, we find ourselves arrested
by the Hwang Ho--not that we experience any difficulty in reaching
the other bank; but we wish to indulge our curiosity in inspecting
the means of transit. It is a bridge, and such a bridge as has no
parallel on earth. Five miles in length, it is longer than any
other bridge built for the passage of a river. It is not, however,
as has been said, the longest bridge in the world; the elevated
railway of New York is a bridge of much greater length. So are
some of the bridges that carry railways across swamp-lands on the
Pacific Coast. Bridges of that sort, however, are of comparatively
easy construction. They have no rebellious stream or treacherous
quicksands to contend with. Cæsar's bridge over the Rhine was an
achievement worthy to be recorded among the victories of his Gallic
wars; but it was a child's plaything in comparison with the bridge
over the Yellow River. Cæsar's bridge rested on sesquipedalian
beams of solid timber. The Belgian bridge is supported on tubular
piles of steel of sesquipedalian diameter driven by steam or screwed
down into the sand to a depth of fifty feet.
There have been other bridges near this very spot
[Page 42]
with which it might be compared. One of them was called Ta-liang,
the "Great Bridge," and gave name to a city. Another was Pien-liang,
"The Bridge of Pien," one of the names of the present city of
K'ai-fung-fu. That bridge has long since disappeared; but the name
adheres to the city.
What an unstable foundation on which to erect a seat of empire!
Yet the capital has been located in this vicinity more than once
or twice within the last twenty-five centuries. The first occasion
was during the dynasty of Chou (1100 B. c.), when the king, to be
more central, or perhaps dreading the incursions of the Tartars,
forsook his capital in Shensi and followed the stream down almost
to the sea, braving the quicksands and the floods rather than face
those terrible foes. Again, in the Sung period, it was the seat
of government for a century and a half.
The safest refuge for a fugitive court which, once established
there, has no reason to fear attack by sea or river, it is somewhat
strange that in 1900 the Empress Dowager did not direct her steps
toward K'ai-fung-fu, instead of escaping to Si-ngan. Being, however,
herself a Tartar, she might have been expected to act in a way
contrary to precedents set by Chinese dynasties. Obviously, she
chose the latter as a place of refuge because it lay near the borders
of Tartary. It is noteworthy that a loyal governor of Honan at that
very time prepared a palace for her accommodation in K'ai-fung-fu,
and when the court was invited to return to Peking, he implored
her not to risk herself in the northern capital.
Honan is a province rich in agricultural, and probably
[Page 43]
in mineral, resources, but it has no outlet in the way of trade.
What a boon this railway is destined to be, as a channel of
communication with neighbouring provinces!
I crossed the Yellow River in 1866, but there was then no bridge
of any kind. Two-thirds of a mile in width, with a furious current,
the management of the ferry-boat was no easy task. On that occasion
an object which presented stronger attractions than this wonderful
bridge had drawn me to K'ai-fung-fu--a colony of Jews, a fragment
of the Lost Tribes of Israel. As mentioned in a previous chapter, I
had come by land over the very track now followed by the railroad,
but under conditions in strong contrast with the luxuries of a
railway carriage--"Alone, unfriended, solitary, slow," I had made my
way painfully, shifting from horse to cart, and sometimes compelled
by the narrowness of a path to descend to a wheelbarrow. How I
longed for the advent of the iron horse. Now I have with me a jovial
company; and we may enjoy the mental stimulus of an uninterrupted
session of the Oriental Society, while making more distance in
an hour than I then made in a day.
Of the condition of the Jews of K'ai-fung-fu, as I found them,
I have given a detailed account elsewhere.[*] Suffice it to say
here that the so-called colony consisted of about four hundred
persons, belonging to seven families or clans. Undermined by a
flood of the Yellow River, their synagogue had become ruinous,
and, being unable to repair it, they had disposed of its timbers
to relieve the pressure of their dire poverty.
[Page 44]
Nothing remained but the vacant space, marked by a single stone
recording the varying fortunes of these forlorn Israelites. It
avers that their remoter ancestors arrived in China by way of India
in the Han dynasty, before the Christian era, and that the founders
of this particular colony found their way to K'ai-fung-fu in the
T'ang dynasty about 800 A. D. It also gives an outline of their
Holy Faith, showing that, in all their wanderings, they had not
forsaken the God of their fathers. They still possessed some rolls
of the Law, written in Hebrew, on sheepskins, but they no longer
had a rabbi to expound them. They had forgotten the sacred tongue,
and some of them had wandered into the fold of Mohammed, whose
creed resembled their own. Some too had embraced the religion of
Buddha.
[Footnote *: See "Cycle of Cathay." Revell & Co., New York.]
My report was listened to with much interest by the rich Jews of
Shanghai, but not one of them put his hand in his pocket to rebuild
the ruined synagogue; and without that for a rallying-place the
colony must ere long fade away, and be absorbed in the surrounding
heathenism, or be led to embrace Christianity.
I now learn that the Jews of Shanghai have manifested enough interest
to bring a few of their youth to that port for instruction in the
Hebrew language. Also that some of these K'ai-fung-fu Jews are
frequent attendants in Christian chapels, which have now been opened
in that city. To my view, the resuscitation of that ancient colony
would be as much of a miracle as the return from captivity in the
days of Cyrus.
[Page 45]
CHAPTER IX
THE RIVER PROVINCES
_Hupeh--Hankow--Hanyang Iron Works--A Centre of Missionary
Activity--Hunan--Kiangsi--Anhwei--Native Province of Li Hung Chang_
By the term "river provinces" are to be understood those provinces
of central and western China which are made accessible to intercourse
and trade by means of the Yang-tse Kiang.
Pursuing our journey, in twelve hours by rail we reach the frontier
of Hupeh. At that point we see above us a fortification perched on
the side of a lofty hill which stands beyond the line. At a height
more than double that of this crenelated wall is a summer resort of
foreigners from Hankow and other parts of the interior. I visited
this place in 1905. In Chinese, the plateau on which it stands is
called, from a projecting rock, the "Rooster's Crest"; shortened
into the more expressive name, the "Roost," it is suggestive of the
repose of summer. It presents a magnificent prospect, extending
over a broad belt of both provinces.
Six hours more and we arrive in Hankow, which is one of three cities
built at the junction of the Han and the Yang-tse, the Tripolis of
China, a tripod of empire, the hub of the universe, as the Chinese
fondly regard it. The other two cities are Wuchang, the capital
[Page 46]
of the viceroyalty, and Hanyang, on the opposite bank of the river.
In Hankow one beholds a Shanghai on a smaller scale, and in the
other two cities the eye is struck by indications of the change
which is coming over the externals of Chinese life.
At Hanyang, which is reached by a bridge, may be seen an extensive
and well-appointed system of iron-works, daily turning out large
quantities of steel rails for the continuation of the railway. It
also produces large quantities of iron ordnance for the contingencies
of war. This is the pet enterprise of the enlightened Viceroy Chang
Chi-tung; but on the other side of the Yang-tse we have cheering
evidence that he has not confined his reforms to transportation and
the army. There, on the south bank, you may see the long walls and
tall chimneys of numerous manufacturing establishments--cotton-mills,
silk filatures, rope-walks, glass-works, tile-works, powder-works--all
designed to introduce the arts of the West, and to wage an industrial
war with the powers of Christendom. There, too, in a pretty house
overlooking the Great River, I spent three years as aid to the viceroy
in educational work. In the heart of China, it was a watch-tower from
which I could look up and down the river and study the condition
of these inland provinces.
This great centre was early preëmpted by the pioneers of missionary
enterprise. Here Griffith John set up the banner of the cross forty
years ago and by indefatigable and not unfruitful labours earned
for himself the name of "the Apostle of Central China."
[Page 47]
In addition he has founded a college for the training of native
preachers. The year 1905 was the jubilee of his arrival in the
empire. Here, too, came David Hill, a saintly man combining the
characters of St. Paul and of John Howard, as one of the pioneers
of the churches of Great Britain. These leaders have been followed
by a host who, if less distinguished, have perhaps accomplished
more for the advancement of the Kingdom of Christ. Without the
coöperation of such agencies all reformatory movements like those
initiated by the viceroy must fall short of elevating the people
to the level of Christian civilisation.
The London Mission, the English Wesleyans, and the American
Episcopalians, all have flourishing stations at Wuchang. The Boone
school, under the auspices of the last-named society, is an admirable
institution, and takes rank with the best colleges in China.
At Hankow the China Inland Mission is represented by a superintendent
and a home for missionaries in transit. At that home the Rev. J.
Hudson Taylor, the founder of that great society, whom I call the
Loyola of Protestant missions, spent a few days in 1906; and there
Dr. John and I sat with him for a group of the "Three Senior
Missionaries" in China.
The river provinces may be divided into lower and upper, the
dividing-line being at Ichang near the gorges of the Yang-tse. Hupeh
and Hunan, Kiangsi and Anhwei occupy the lower reach; Szechuen,
Kweichau, and Yünnan, the upper one. The first two form one viceregal
district, with a population exceeding that of any European country
excepting Russia.
[Page 48]
Hupeh signifies "north of the lake"; Hunan, "south of the lake"--the
great lake of Tungting lying between the two. Hupeh has been open to
trade and residence for over forty years; but the sister province
was long hermetically sealed against the footprints of the white
man. Twenty or even ten years ago to venture within its limits
would have cost a European his life. Its capital, Changsha, was
the seat of an anti-foreign propaganda from which issued masses of
foul literature; but the lawless hostility of the people has been
held in check by the judicious firmness of the present viceroy,
and that city is now the seat of numerous mission bodies which
are vying with each other in their efforts to diffuse light and
knowledge. It is also open to commerce as a port of trade.
One of the greatest distinctions of the province is its production
of brave men, one of the bravest of whom was the first Marquis Tseng
who, at the head of a patriotic force from his native province,
recaptured the city of Nanking and put an end to the chaotic government
of the Taiping rebels--a service which has ever since been recognised
by the Chinese Government in conferring the viceroyalty of Nanking
on a native of Hunan.
Lying to the south of the river, is the province of Kiangsi, containing
the Poyang Lake, next in size to the Tungting. Above its entrance
at Kiukiang rises a lone mountain which bears the name of Kuling.
Beautifully situated, and commanding a wide view of lake and river,
its sides are dotted with pretty cottages, erected as summer resorts
for people from all the inland ports. Here may be seen the flags of many
[Page 49]
nations, and here the hard-worked missionary finds rest and recreation,
without idleness; for he finds clubs for the discussion of politics
and philosophy, and libraries which more than supply the absence of
his own. Just opposite the entrance to the lake stands the "Little
Orphan," a vine-clad rock 200 feet in height, with a small temple
on the top. It looks like a fragment torn from the mountain-side
and planted in the bosom of the stream. Fancy fails to picture
the convulsion of which the "Little Orphan" is the monument.
Farther down is the province of Anhwei which takes its name from
its chief two cities, Anking and Weichou. In general resembling
Kiangsi, it has two flourishing ports on the river, Anking, the
capital, and Wuhu. Of the people nothing noteworthy is to be observed,
save that they are unusually turbulent, and their lawless spirit
has not been curbed by any strong hand like that of the viceroy
at Wuchang.[*] The province is distinguished for its production
of great men, of whom Li Hung Chang was one.
[Footnote *: This was written before the Nanchang riot of March,
1906.]
[Page 50]
CHAPTER X
PROVINCES OF THE UPPER YANG-TSE
_A Perilous Passage--Szechuen--Kweichau, the Poorest Province
in China--Yünnan--Tribes of Aborigines_
Thus far our voyage of exploration, like one of Cook's tours, has
been personally conducted. From this point, however, I must depend
upon the experience of others: the guide himself must seek a guide
to conduct him through the remaining portions of the empire.
We enter the Upper Yang-tse by a long and tortuous passage through
which the "Great River" rushes with a force and a roar like the
cataracts of the Rhine, only on a vastly greater scale. In some
bygone age volcanic forces tore asunder a mountain range, and the
waters of the great stream furrowed out a channel; but the obstructing
rocks, so far from being worn away, remain as permanent obstacles
to steam navigation and are a cause of frequent shipwrecks. Yet,
undeterred by dangers that eclipse Scylla and Charybdis, the laborious
Chinese have for centuries past carried on an immense traffic through
this perilous passage. In making the ascent their junks are drawn
against the current by teams of coolies, tens or hundreds of the
latter being harnessed to the tow-lines of one boat and driven
like a bullock train in South Africa. Slow
[Page 51]
and difficult is the ascent, but swift and perilous the downward
passage.
No doubt engineering may succeed in removing some of the obstacles
and in minifying the dangers of this passage. Steam, too, may supply
another mode of traction to take the place of these teams of men.
A still revolution is in prospect, namely a ship canal or railway.
The latter, perhaps, might be made to lift the junks bodily out of
the water and transport them beyond the rapids. Two cities, however,
would suffer somewhat by this change in the mode of navigation,
namely, Ichang at the foot and Chungking at the head of the rapids.
The latter is the chief river port of Szechuen, a province having
four times the average area.
The great province of Szechuen, if it only had the advantages of
a seacoast, would take the lead in importance. As it is, it is
deemed sufficiently important, like Chihli, to have a viceroy of
its own. The name signifies the "four rivers," and the province has
as many ranges of mountains. One of them, the Omeshan, is celebrated
for its beauty and majesty. The mountains give the province a great
variety of climate, and the rivers supply means of transportation
and irrigation. Its people, too, are more uniform in language and
character than those of most other regions. Their language partakes
of the Northern mandarin. Near the end of the Ming dynasty the
whole population is said to have been destroyed in the fratricidal
wars of that sanguinary period. The population accordingly is
comparatively sparse, and the cities are said to present a new and
prosperous aspect. Above Szechuen
[Page 52]
lie the two provinces of Kweichau and Yünnan, forming one viceroyalty
under the name of Yünkwei.
Kweichau has the reputation of being the poorest province in China,
with a very sparse population, nearly one-half of whom are aborigines,
called _shans_, _lolos_, and _miaotzes_.
Yünnan (signifying not "cloudy south," but "south of the cloudy
mountains") is next in area to Szechuen. Its resources are as yet
undeveloped, and it certainly has a great future. Its climate,
if it may be said to have one, is reputed to be unhealthful, and
among its hills are many deep gorges which the Chinese say are
full of _chang chi_, "poisonous gases" which are fatal to men
and animals--like the Grotto del Cane in Italy. But these gorges
and cliffs abound in better things also. They are rich in unexploited
coal measures and they contain also many mines of the purest copper
ore. The river that washes its borders here bears the name of Kinsha,
the river of "golden sands." Some of its rivers have the curious
peculiarity of flowing the reverse way, that is, to the west and
south instead of toward the eastern sea. The Chinese accordingly
call the province "Tiensheng" the country of the "converse streams."
Within the borders of Yünnan there are said to be more than a hundred
tribes of aborigines all more or less akin to those of Kweichau
and Burma, but each under its own separate chief. Some of them
are fine-looking, vigorous people; but the Chinese describe them
as living in a state of utter savagery. Missionaries, however,
have recently begun work for them; and we may hope that, as for
the Karens of
[Page 53]
Burma, a better day will soon dawn on the Yünnan aborigines.
The French, having colonies on the border, are naturally desirous
of exploiting the provinces of this southern belt, and China is
intensely suspicious of encroachment from that quarter.
[Page 54]
CHAPTER XI
NORTHWESTERN PROVINCES
_Shansi--Shensi--Earliest Known Home of the Chinese--Kansuh_
Of the three northwestern provinces, the richest is Shansi. More
favoured in climate and soil than the other members of the group, its
population is more dense. Divided from Chihli by a range of hills,
its whole surface is hilly, but not mountainous. The highlands give
variety to its temperature--condensing the moisture and supplying
water for irrigation. The valleys are extremely fertile, and of
them it may be said in the words of Job, "As for the earth, out of
it cometh bread: and underneath it is turned up as it were fire."
Not only do the fields yield fine crops of wheat and millet, but
there are extensive coal measures of excellent quality. Iron ore
also is found in great abundance. Mining enterprises have accordingly
been carried on from ancient times, and they have now, with the
advent of steam, acquired a fresh impetus. It follows, of course,
that the province is prolific of bankers. Shansi bankers monopolise
the business of finance in all the adjacent provinces.
Next on the west comes the province of Shensi, from _shen_, a
"strait or pass" (not _shan_ a "hill"), and _si_, "west."
[Page 55]
Here was the earliest home of the Chinese race of which there is
any record. On the Yellow River, which here forms the boundary of
two provinces, stands the city of Si-ngan where the Chou dynasty
set up its throne in the twelfth century B. C. Since that date
many dynasties have made it the seat of empire. Their palaces have
disappeared; but most of them have left monumental inscriptions
from which a connected history might be extracted. To us the most
interesting monument is a stone, erected about 800 A. D. to commemorate
the introduction of Christianity by some Nestorian missionaries
from western Asia.
The province of Kansuh is comparatively barren. Its boundaries
extend far out into regions peopled by Mongol tribes; and the
neighbourhood of great deserts gives it an arid climate unfavourable
to agriculture. Many of its inhabitants are immigrants from Central
Asia and profess the Mohammedan faith. It is almost surrounded by
the Yellow River, like a picture set in a gilded frame, reminding
one of that river of paradise which "encompasseth the whole land
of Havilah where there is gold." Whether there is gold in Kansuh
we have yet to learn; but no doubt some grains of the precious
metal might be picked up amongst its shifting sands.
[Page 56]
CHAPTER XII
OUTLYING TERRITORIES
_Manchuria--Mongolia--Turkestan--Tibet, the Roof of the World--Journey
of Huc and Gabet._
Beyond the eastern extremity of the Great Wall, bounded on the
west by Mongolia, on the north by the Amur, on the east by the
Russian seaboard, and on the south by Korea and the Gulf of Pechili,
lies the home of the Manchus--the race now dominant in the Chinese
Empire. China claims it, just as Great Britain claimed Normandy,
because her conquerors came from that region; and now that two
of her neighbours have exhausted themselves in fighting for it,
she will take good care that neither of them shall filch the jewel
from her crown.
That remarkable achievement, the conquest of China by a few thousand
semi-civilised Tartars, is treated in the second part of this work.
Manchuria consists of three regions now denominated provinces,
Shengking, Kairin, and Helungkiang. They are all under one
governor-general whose seat is at Mukden, a city sacred in the
eyes of every Manchu, because there are the tombs of the fathers
of the dynasty.
The native population of Manchuria having been drafted off to garrison
and colonise the conquered
[Page 57]
country, their deserted districts were thrown open to Chinese settlers.
The population of the three provinces is mainly Chinese, and,
assimilated in government to those of China, they are reckoned
as completing the number of twenty-one. Opulent in grain-fields,
forests, and minerals, with every facility for commerce, no part of
the empire has a brighter future. So thinly peopled is its northern
portion that it continues to be a vast hunting-ground which supplies
the Chinese market with sables and tiger-skins besides other peltries.
The tiger-skins are particularly valuable as having longer and
richer fur than those of Bengal.
Of the Manchus as a people, I shall speak later on.[*] Those remaining
in their original habitat are extremely rude and ignorant; yet
even these hitherto neglected regions are now coming under the
enlightening influence of a system of government schools.
[Footnote *: Part II. page 140 and 142; part III, pages 267-280]
Mongolia, the largest division of Tartary, if not of the Empire,
is scarcely better known than the mountain regions of Tibet, a
large portion of its area being covered with deserts as uninviting
and as seldom visited as the African Sahara. One route, however,
has been well trodden by Russian travellers, namely, that lying
between Kiachta and Peking.
In the reign of Kanghi the Russians were granted the privilege of
establishing an ecclesiastical mission to minister to a Cossack
garrison which the Emperor had captured at Albazin trespassing on
his grounds. Like another Nebuchadnezzar, he transplanted them
to the soil of China. He also permitted the Russians
[Page 58]
to bring tribute to the "Son of Heaven" once in ten years. That
implied a right to trade, so that the Russians, like other envoys,
in Chinese phrase "came lean and went away fat." But they were
not allowed to leave the beaten track: they were merchants, not
travellers. Not till the removal of the taboo within the last
half-century have these outlying dependencies been explored by
men like Richthofen and Sven Hedin. Formerly the makers of maps
garnished those unknown regions
"With caravans for want of towns."
Sooth to say, there are no towns, except Urga, a shrine for pilgrimage,
the residence of a living Buddha, and Kiachta and Kalgan, terminal
points of the caravan route already referred to.
Kiachta is a double town--one-half of it on each side of the
Russo-Chinese boundary--presenting in striking contrast the magnificence
of a Russian city and the poverty and filth of a Tartar encampment.
The whole country is called in Chinese "the land of grass." Its
inhabitants have sheepfolds and cattle ranches, but neither fields
nor houses, unless tents and temporary huts may be so designated.
To this day, nomadic in their habits, they migrate from place to
place with their flocks and herds as the exigencies of water and
pasturage may require.
Lines of demarcation exist for large tracts belonging to a tribe,
but no minor divisions such as individual holdings. The members of
a clan all enjoy their grazing range in common, and hold themselves
ready to fight for the rights of their chieftain. Bloody feuds
lasting for generations, such as would rival those of
[Page 59]
the Scottish clans, are not of infrequent occurrence. Their Manchu
overlord treats these tribal conflicts with sublime indifference,
as he does the village wars in China.
The Mongolian chiefs, or "princes" as they are called, are forty-eight
in number. The "forty-eight princes" is a phrase as familiar to
the Chinese ear as the "eighteen provinces" is to ours. Like the
Manchus they are arranged in groups under eight banners. Some of
them took part in the conquest, but the Manchus are too suspicious
to permit them to do garrison duty in the Middle Kingdom, lest the
memories of Kublai Khan and his glory should be awakened. They
are, however, held liable to military service. Seng Ko Lin Sin
("Sam Collinson" as the British dubbed him), a Lama prince, headed
the northern armies against the Tai-ping rebels and afterwards
suffered defeat at the hands of the British and French before the
gates of Peking.
In the winter the Mongol princes come with their clansmen to revel
in the delights of Cambalu, the city of the great Khan, as they
have continued to call Peking ever since the days of Kublai, whose
magnificence has been celebrated by Marco Polo. Their camping-ground
is the Mongolian Square which is crowded with tabernacles built
of bamboo and covered with felt. In a sort of bazaar may be seen
pyramids of butter and cheese, two commodities that are abominations
to the Chinese of the south, but are much appreciated by Chinese
in Peking as well as by the Manchus. One may see also mountains
of venison perfectly fresh; the frozen carcasses of "yellow sheep"
[Page 60]
(really not sheep, but antelopes); then come wild boars in profusion,
along with badgers, hares, and troops of live dogs--the latter only
needing to be wild to make them edible. This will give some faint
idea of Mongolia's contribution to the luxuries of the metropolis.
Devout Buddhist as he is, the average Mongol deems abstinence from
animal food a degree of sanctity unattainable by him.
Mongols of the common classes are clad in dirty sheepskins. Their
gentry and priesthood dress themselves in the spoils of wolf or
fox--more costly but not more clean. Furs, felt, and woollen fabrics
of the coarsest texture may also be noticed. Raiment of camel's
hair, strapped with a leathern girdle after the manner of John
the Baptist, may be seen any day, and the wearers are not regarded
as objects of commiseration.
Their camel, too, is wonderfully adapted to its habitat. Provided
with two humps, it carries a natural saddle; and, clothed in long
wool, yellow, brown or black, it looks in winter a lordly beast.
Its fleece is never shorn, but is shed in summer. At that season
the poor naked animal is the most pitiable of creatures. In the
absence of railways and carriage roads, it fills the place of the
ship of the desert and performs the heaviest tasks, such as the
transporting of coals and salt. Most docile of slaves, at a word
from its master it kneels down and quietly accepts its burden.
At Peking there is a lamasary where four hundred Mongol monks are
maintained in idleness at the expense of the Emperor. Their manners
are those of highwaymen. They have been known to lay rough
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hands on visitors in order to extort a charitable dole; and, if
rumour may be trusted, their morals are far from exemplary.
My knowledge of the Mongols is derived chiefly from what I have
seen of them in Peking. I have also had a glimpse of their country
at Kalgan, beyond the Great Wall. A few lines from a caravan song
by the Rev. Mark Williams give a picture of a long journey by those
slow coaches:
"Inching along, we are inching along,
At the pace of a snail, we are inching along,
Our horses are hardy, our camels are strong,
We all shall reach Urga by inching along.
"The things that are common, all men will despise;
But these in the desert we most highly prize.
For water is worth more than huge bags of gold
And argols than diamonds of value untold."
--_A Flight for Life_, Pilgrim Press, Boston.
Politically Turkestan is not Mongolia, but Tamerlane, though born
there, was a Mongol. His descendants were the Moguls of India. At
different epochs peoples called Turks and Huns have wandered over
the Mongolian plateau, and Mongols have swept over Turkestan. To
draw a line of demarcation is neither easy nor important. In the
Turkestan of to-day the majority of the people follow the prophet
of Mecca. Russia has absorbed most of the khanates, and has tried
more than once to encroach on portions belonging to China. In one
instance she was foiled and compelled to disgorge by the courage of
Viceroy Chang, a story which I reserve for the sequel. The coveted
region was Ili, and Russia's pretext for crossing the
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boundary was the chronic state of warfare in which the inhabitants
existed.
Tibet is the land of the Grand Lama. Is it merely tributary or
is it a portion of the Chinese Empire? This is a question that
has been warmly agitated during the last two years--brought to
the front by Colonel Younghusband's expedition and by a treaty
made in Lhasa. Instead of laying their complaints before the court
of Peking, the Indian Government chose to settle matters on the
spot, ignoring the authority of China. Naturally China has been
provoked to instruct her resident at Lhasa to maintain her rights.
A presumptive claim might be based on the fact, that the Grand Lama
took refuge at Urga, where he remained until the Empress Dowager
ordered him to return to his abandoned post. China has always had
a representative at his court; but his function would appear to
be that of a political spy rather than an overseer, governor, or
even adviser. Chinese influence in Tibet is nearly _nil_.
For China to assert authority by interference and to make herself
responsible for Tibet's shortcomings would be a questionable policy,
against which two wars ought to be a sufficient warning. She was
involved with France by her interference in Tongking and with Japan
by interference in Korea. Too much intermeddling in Tibet might
easily embroil her with Great Britain.
In one sense the Buddhist pope may justly claim to be the highest of
earthly potentates. No other sits on a throne at an equal elevation
above the level of the sea. Like Melchizedeck, he is without father
or mother--each occupant of the throne being a fresh
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incarnation of Buddha. The signs of Buddhaship are known only to
the initiated; but they are supposed to consist in the recognition
of places, persons, and apparel. These lamas never die of old age.
While in other parts of the Empire polygamy prevails for those
who can afford it, in Tibet polyandry crops up. Which is the more
offensive to good morals we need not decide; but is it not evident
that Confucianism shows its weakness on one side as Buddhism does
on the other? A people that tolerates either or both hardly deserves
to be regarded as civilised.
The Chinese call Tibet the "roof of the world," and most of it is
as barren as the roof of a house. Still the roof, though producing
nothing, collects water to irrigate a garden. Tibet is the mother
of great rivers, and she feeds them from her eternal snows. On her
highlands is a lake or cluster of lakes which the Chinese describe
as _Sing Su Hai_, the "sea of stars." From this the Yellow
River takes its rise and perhaps the Yang-tse Kiang. A Chinese
legend says that Chang Chien poled a raft up to the source of the
Yellow River and found himself in the Milky Way, _Tienho_,
the "River of Heaven."
Fifty years ago two intrepid French missionaries, Huc and Gabet,
made their way to Lhasa, but they were not allowed to remain there.
The Chinese residents made them prisoners, under pretext of giving
them protection, and sent them to the seacoast through the heart
of the empire. They were thus enabled to see the vast interior
at a time when it was barred alike to traveller and missionary.
Of this adventurous
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journey Huc's published "Travels" is the immortal monument.
We have thus gone over China and glanced at most of her outlying
dependencies. The further exploration of Tibet we may postpone
until she has made good her claims to dominion in that mountain
region. The vastness of the Chinese Empire and the immensity of
its population awaken in the mind a multitude of questions to which
nothing but history can give an adequate reply. We come therefore
to the oracle whose responses may perhaps be less dubious than
those of Delphi.
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PART II
HISTORY IN OUTLINE FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY
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