Empires and Emperors of Russia, China, Korea, and Japan Part 11

The fourth wall is that of the Tartar city, which is almost square, and has altogether ten gates--three to the north, three to the south, two to the east, and two to the west. The wall is about seventeen miles long and fifty feet high, and so wide that a dozen soldiers abreast can ride on it comfortably. At its four corners are four three-storeyed bastions with double-gabled, green-tiled roofs. Over the gates are towers with similar roofs, and everywhere the same Imperial emblems, the same dragons and ornamentation. Everything bears the stamp of uniformity, embodying one canon of taste and one idea.

One can hardly imagine a grander and more sombre structure than the symmetrical, harmonious walls of Pekin, and the more we see of them the more we are charmed.

The wall of the Chinese town was added to that of the Tartar city to form a parallelogram; it is similar to the former, though somewhat more modest. To the north the three gates of the Tartar city serve as entrance, while on its eastern and western sides are two gates respectively, and to the south is the princ.i.p.al entrance to Pekin. Then come the moats and ditches and the ubiquitous bridges. So any one desiring to approach the throne must pa.s.s altogether through five cities, seven gates, and five bridges, and in the Imperial city one must walk through five halls and five courts ere the throne itself is reached.

The conception of all this is as grand as it is masterly. Nowhere is the idea of majesty enhanced so infinitely, and nowhere is power adorned to such an extent as in China. The Winter Palace and Windsor Castle are merely private dwellings, and even Versailles loses much of its grandeur when compared to the Imperial Palace in Pekin.

It is only a few months since the Court returned from its protracted exile to the deserted palaces; and what a brilliant and magnificent spectacle that grand procession afforded on the long route through five cities and so many gates and bridges! although the uniforms of the soldiers must have looked rather shabby and the coats of the mandarins somewhat worn. The pageant must have been one of the most striking ever seen.

V

THE CHINESE CITY

The skill of the mechanics and industry of the Chinese artisans are proverbial, and it is a never-ending source of interest to watch them, or to study the commercial spirit of the people. I have lately seen a good deal of the commercial life of Pekin, though I am more familiar with that of Niu-chw.a.n.g. The long rows of caravans, coming from the western frontier and Tibet, and laden with merchandise peculiar to those regions, are characteristic of the former.

The centre of trade is in the Chinese city; but how can I convey an idea of this to those who do not know this people and this part of the world? What a blending of colours! what noise and dust! what an infinity of light and shade! what a wonderful mosaic! Who could ever grasp the total effect in all its splendour? Who could ever understand it in all its mystery?

Every detail is so novel, and everything I see comes as a surprise.

During my prolonged stay I go out every afternoon on some extended walk of exploration, and the greatest charm of my wanderings is that I come across famous monuments when I least expect them. I divide the city into different portions, and each day I visit another quincunx. My task is the easier owing to the fact that the town is built on a chess-board plan, like a military encampment. Strictly speaking, it is composed of several towns, each having its own distinct characteristics and purpose, and each a peculiar architecture, while each is inhabited by a different caste. The so-called Tartar city is the home of all the Manchus, who followed the present dynasty from their native land. They are mostly public officials, or enrolled in the Imperial army.

The Inner, or Imperial city, is reserved for mandarins and higher Court dignitaries, and encloses the more restricted area with the three consecutive cities--the Purple, Forbidden, and Sacred. One part of the Purple City is entirely reserved for the Empress Dowager, and the other part contains the abodes of the Court and their guardians. The centre of this marvellous maze is the Emperor's sanctuary.

On the southern side of the Tartar city extends the Chinese city, set apart entirely for commercial purposes, where all the Chinese live, whence its name. All the famous shops are there, and there a bustling trade is carried on from morning till night.

"Are the Pekin sights worth seeing?" is the universal question of new arrivals. It would be easier to give an answer if one were asked, "What is _not_ worth seeing, and what can be omitted in Pekin?" Among my many excursions there was not one devoid of some striking discovery--a fine building, unknown spot, or quaint scene; and even when I did not come across any regular sight, I was always surrounded by a world full of interest, a world by itself.

If I were to give my opinion, I should advise the foreigner, before everything, to examine this quaint world which surrounds him, and to seek to understand its exuberant life; and it would be a great advantage to visit the different parts of the city at different hours of the day, to watch the sun rise from the city walls when the town seems to awake with the sudden burst of light, and to pa.s.s the morning hours in the narrow lanes, overcrowded with shops; at midday to pay visits to the official yamens and to local grandees, or to drive in the afternoon to one of the temples, or make an excursion to the neighbouring shrines and watch the sun set from the eastern hills, or the top of the famous paG.o.das, lost amidst the country.

From an artistic standpoint there are a great many gems to be found, while so far as nature is concerned, the surrounding hills are unsurpa.s.sed in their scenery.

The Imperial deer-park is very fine too, and in its quiet melancholy offers a charming haunt for solitary rides. Another place for an outing is the famous Princesses' Tombs, which are worth while visiting in every respect. And there is the charming old Portuguese cemetery, with its sad graves of the first Christians, who played such a leading part at the Emperor's Court in the seventeenth century. The inscriptions on the monuments and white marble crosses are so many records of the first missionaries' work. And farther on is one of Pekin's architectural marvels, the well-known so-called Thirteen-storeyed PaG.o.da. Its walls are richly carved with uncanny figures, and it is covered with an indescribable roof, looking like thirteen umbrellas put one on top of the other.

There are, moreover, the two Summer Palaces, one of rich French rococo, but now lying in ruins, and the other, which still serves as a summer abode, occupying a vast area, scattered over with many kiosks, tea-houses, and yamens, laid out with marvellous gardens, artificial fishponds, and marble bridges. Unluckily, entrance to it is strictly forbidden, and a trespa.s.ser would be punished by decapitation. Until quite recently permission was never accorded to a foreigner to penetrate this forbidden paradise. Now on certain occasions the diplomatic body is received within, and at such a function I was an invited guest; but as I have endeavoured, in another chapter, to give a description, however inadequately, of this wonderland of china paG.o.das, hanging gardens belonging to the modern Semiramis, and forests planted with miniature orchards and pines, I will not enlarge upon them here. It would indeed be impossible to depict in words what can only be realized by sight. I can only hope that others may have the same privilege.

I would give the same advice with regard to the Imperial Palace in Pekin, which, after all, is the greatest wonder of this wondrous city.

While rambling in Pekin, no one should omit to explore the main thoroughfares of both cities, to visit the side lanes, nor to stop before the great Chinese Gate, or Ta-chin-men, and look straight down and enjoy the marvellous panorama of the Ch'ien-men, or Great Street.

Sitting on the marble bal.u.s.trade of the Ch'ien-men San-tau Bridge, one could spend hours in watching the extraordinary scene. The whole population of this gigantic city seems to a.s.semble here at certain hours of the day. Rich mandarins on horses with elaborate trappings and humble coolies, princes coming from Mongolia, carried in splendid litters, are stopped by the half-naked members of the celebrated Beggars' Guild. There are shops on both sides and booths in front of each shop, displaying more modest wares; and besides this double row of shops, there is a third row of goods for sale; but this department consists merely of mats or sheets of paper spread out in the gutter, where ragam.u.f.fins offer the treasure-trove of the preceding night.

Behind the Ch'ien-men Street is a maze of alleys, packed with warehouses and richly carved fronts, which form the most marvellous bazaar ever seen. And the effect of this fairyland built of cardboard and tinsel is enhanced by the sun coming through the open s.p.a.ces in the awnings in shafts of light. Indeed, I would strongly recommend every one to take his first reconnoitring walk through the Ch'ien-men quarter.

As for sights and architectural treasures, there is such an amazing number of them that it is necessary to employ a little discrimination and to put aside the ambition of the average sightseer, which is to say, "I did them all."

Among the temples, the Hall of the Cla.s.sics, or Pi-yung-kung, also called the Temple of Confucius, which contains the complete text of the nine King or Cla.s.sical Books, the foundation of ancient Chinese literature, is one of the most remarkable. There are several interesting buildings in its shady grounds, and the entrance arch, covered with beautiful yellow porcelain, is a triumph of Chinese art. Kwo-tsze-chien is another fine pile, and its foundation dates from the time of the Yuan dynasty, which reigned in the thirteenth century. The main hall contains a most interesting wooden tablet, with a characteristic inscription as follows: "The tablet to the soul of the most holy ancestral teacher, Confucius."

The best known and most often described temple is that of the famous Lama monastery, which is a town in itself, composed of many buildings and still owning many art treasures, some very good pieces of cloisonne, and excellent jade work. At certain hours of the day the monks have services with wonderful ritual, and a procession of the Great Lama, clad in royal purple and saffron-yellow, followed by his silk-draped staff, wearing helmets and crests bristling with feathers. It is a spectacle of unquestionable novelty to a European.

Outside the wall one must not omit a visit to Hw.a.n.g-ssu, where, in the centre court, stands a white marble monument, erected by the Emperor Kien-lung to the memory of the Teshoo Lama, who was the uncle of the one in Lha.s.sa, the Dalai Lama, and who, during a visit to the Imperial city, where he was the guest of the Emperor himself, died suddenly, as the inscription says, of malignant smallpox. Not less famous is the Ta-chung-ssu, or Temple of the Great Bell. It was built in the sixteenth century, and contains the largest bell in the empire, which a century and a half before was cast by order of Yung-Lo.

But among all the temples, as its name indicates, the finest is the so-called Temple of Heaven, where only the Emperor has the right to offer sacrifice. It stands in a grove, occupying over a square mile, in the south-eastern quarter of the Chinese city, and although it consists of but a few buildings only, each is one of the marvels of the East.

The main hall is a rotunda, a kind of paG.o.da built on top of a platform, which, with its bal.u.s.trade and the flight of steps skirting it all round, are of finely carved marble. The colonnade, supporting the umbrella-like roof, is of purple lacquered timber, the tiles being of blue porcelain; and I think it is the only building which is permitted to be covered with the colour of the sky. From this unique shrine, across the gra.s.s and through the grove, leads a marble pathway to the Imperial altar.

This altar, if so it can be called, is really another platform like the previous one from which we came, but it is even more imposing, higher, and surrounded by more elaborate stairs and finer bal.u.s.trades. It has no shrine and no paG.o.da on the top of it; its colonnade is formed by the cedars and cypresses of the grove which surround it, and the dome of this spotless white marble pedestal is the cloudless blue sky.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE TEMPLE OF HEAVEN "The main hall is a rotunda" To face page 172]

It would be vain to try to make the beauty of this spot comprehensible.

Besides, my aim is not to trespa.s.s on the domain of a guide-book, which very likely would give a whole chapter to this place, and even so, I am afraid, would never succeed in conveying the poetic impression of the unique shrine.

I must, however, mention a few other places of interest. The Temple of the Earth, for instance, which is also very extensive, has some very fine buildings, a delightful old sundial, and an emblematic well. In an open s.p.a.ce there is a field of rice, the symbol of fertility, where the Emperor ploughs the first furrow of the year.

Of course, the two huge towers which look down upon us at a distance through all our wanderings should not be omitted either. One is the Tower of the Gong or Bell, and the other that of the Drum. They are, in fact, two belfries, for announcing all good or evil news to the citizens.

I would also recommend everybody to go where the two Gothic spires lift their graceful forms towards heaven, and to pa.s.s an afternoon at the Mission of Pei-tang, where they will meet with an excellent reception and be offered sincere hospitality. They may still see traces of the Boxer vandalism, ruins and sh.e.l.ls piled up in pyramids, a small cemetery where all the martyrs are buried--soldiers and priests, starving children and helpless women--and a small commemorative chapel. It will unquestionably please them to see that most of the ruins have been restored, and that the extensive orphanage houses several hundred children. Pei-tang is a centre, not only of faith but of work, and the children go through hard training schools before they are able to earn their daily bread. The boys as a rule become artisans or tradesmen, and those who show greater apt.i.tude become silversmiths, or cloisonne makers. Those who like study can enter the adjoining grammar school or the seminary. Needlework is the main occupation of the little girls, who make beautiful lace and fine embroideries, and their products find an easy market in the European or Legation quarter.

Pei-tang is certainly worth visiting, and most edifying, and not only co-religionists will find satisfaction in all they see, but any one interested in history, art, education, charitable work, and civilization in general, will gather useful information and find valuable doc.u.ments.

As for the evenings in Pekin, even the best guide-book will fail to give advice. At sunset everything is closed and everybody retires; the city gates are barred, and traffic is stopped. Even the famous theatres are deserted, and the plays, which begin early in the morning, must finish at dusk. During the night Pekin is wrapped in silence and darkness. It is only in the European quarter that lights are to be perceived, and loud talk, hoa.r.s.e laughter, or a hackneyed chorus, issues from a newly opened bar--sad recreation ground for the Allied Troops, giving the Chinese but a sorry example of the European idea of amus.e.m.e.nt.

Furnished with letters of introduction, which are more necessary in the East than pa.s.sports, the traveller will have an opportunity of pa.s.sing some charming evenings at the different legations, and in the houses of the resident diplomatists, officers, priests, and so forth, and they will be able to see how their compatriots live in exile and discuss the last events that have occurred in the West, and, by the blue smoke of a cigar, forecast the possibilities of the East.

VII

THE DOWAGER EMPRESS AND THE EMPEROR OF CHINA AT THE SUMMER PALACE

The glorious rays of the sun burst through it the eastern hills. From night to day is but a moment. There is no lingering dawn. The country is ablaze with colour, and yet the autumn is well advanced towards the so-called St. Martin's summer. In spite of the early hour, the streets of Pekin show unusual bustle. These endless thoroughfares, which on ordinary mornings are so gloomy and deserted, have awaked to life. At the doors of those quaint and attractive shops, full of the strange odds and ends that are of perennial interest to the wanderer in the East, and at the street corners, groups of people are talking vivaciously. Curious eyes are peeping from little windows, and everybody is evidently in expectation of some unusual sight. But what gives the most unfamiliar aspect to the scene is that there are street-sweepers here and there, more or less busy at their work, and a few policemen, in the most fanciful uniforms. It is the day of the Imperial reception of the diplomatic corps. It is an innovation in the functions at the Court of the Dragon that the representatives of the Western nations should be annually received in state, a favour which has been granted since the Allies entered Pekin, one of the very few concessions, I am afraid, that have been granted.

The Court pa.s.ses the autumn in the beautiful residence some sixteen miles from the city. We are compelled to travel all this way, and by any means we may find convenient, as there is no railway. Some are riding, some are carried in old-fashioned canopied palanquins. I see the conservative representative of Portugal carried by a magnificent team of stalwart Cantonese, with endless pigtails and rich harness--I ought to say livery. Germany, on the contrary, rattles over the most impracticable, neglected highway in a Tyrolean carriage, an object of great wonder and interest to the natives, as it is the first and only four-wheeler in the city.

It is a long journey, but not devoid of interest. We pa.s.s through a series of villages and hamlets, each of them teeming with busy life. I must say the energy and industry of the Chinese fill me with admiration.

All along the road we meet people bearing signs of trade or commerce.

Some are carrying huge baskets of fruit, of flowers, or grain. Others are laden with many kinds of goods. Many push wheelbarrows burdened with more than a European cart could bear. Caravans of heavy Mongolian camels roped together travel to and fro in one never-ending, sinuous line. But the greater part of the traffic is absorbed by the Imperial household.

We must not forget that the Summer Palace is a town in itself, a city inhabited by thousands of mandarins, Court functionaries, attendants, servants, and labourers. The number, I believe, is estimated at ten thousand, and the daily expenses at something incalculable. The country all round is marvellously cultivated. It is interesting to watch the people at work in the fields, and see by what primitive methods they obtain such surprising results.

At last we arrive at the palace, and are met by such a crowd that it is with difficulty that any progress can be made at all. Most of the legations have sent out guards with tents, where the representatives can put on their full dress. We gather afterwards before the palace gates in a typical yamen, a choice specimen of Chinese domestic architecture, simple in conception, but elaborate in detail.

Prince Ching, Minister for Foreign Affairs, arrives; unquestionably a striking figure and an interesting personality. Slim, even fragile, his yellow skin covers the bones of his face like an old parchment, pale and wrinkled, and the brightness of his small, beady eyes makes a striking contrast. The introductions at once begin; but as Prince Ching does not speak either French or English, his secretary acts as interpreter.

If I remember correctly, this gentleman is a member of one of the numerous Li family; but what I specially recollect is his exquisite manner, exceptional refinement, and wide knowledge. He speaks perfect French, has travelled all over Europe, has stopped in our capitals for years, and taken a special interest in our scientific inst.i.tutions. I confess to very much surprise when he began to testify his personal appreciation of my own national university of Buda Pesth. Perhaps it is the old-fashioned Chinese dress, mandarin hat, or pigtail, that causes Western people to feel astonished at finding among natives of the Yellow Empire sometimes a more thorough knowledge of the West and a deeper insight into our minds than we can realize.

The empty compliments have been exchanged--and empty indeed they are. At last an escort of palace guards and mandarins arrives, to lead us towards the inner palace gate.