V 
 
 $ 
 
 
 SEP 20 1910 
 •26/CAL 
 
 Division D3710 
 
 f-mn ."R(o 
 
 Section 
 

 / 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2016 
 
 https://archive.org/details/chinaasisawitwomOOroea 
 
CHINA AS I SAW IT 
 

 
 
Frontispiece. TEMPLE AT TENG-CHEO-FU. 
 
CHINA 
 
 AS I SAW IT 
 
 A WOMAN’S LETTERS FROM 
 THE CELESTIAL EMPIRE 
 
 A. S. ROE 
 
 WITH 39 ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 
 NEW YORK 
 1910 
 
 BY 
 
Printed in Great Britain 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 I should like to take this opportunity of expressing 
 my thanks to those who, either consciously or un- 
 consciously, have helped in the “ making ” of this 
 book. 
 
 Amongst the former I would include those who 
 have permitted me to use their sketches and photo- 
 graphs, and amongst the latter the members of the 
 China Inland and other missions through whose 
 hospitality we were enabled to stay in places where 
 native accommodation would have been worse than 
 indifferent, and to whose intimate knowledge of the 
 language and the people we owe much of the interest 
 of our travels and their comparative freedom from 
 dangers and difficulties. 
 

CONTENTS 
 
 PACK 
 
 Shanghai ( May 27 th, 1907) 
 
 • 
 
 1 
 
 Chefoo (June 20 th) 
 
 
 17 
 
 Teng-Cheo-Fu (September 10 th) . 
 
 
 3i 
 
 Chefoo (October 10 th) . 
 
 
 5° 
 
 Peking (October 18 th, 1907) 
 
 
 60 
 
 Hankow (November 10th , 1907) . 
 
 
 82 
 
 Ichang (November 28 th) 
 
 
 99 
 
 On the Upper Yangtse (December 3rd) . 
 
 
 no 
 
 Ch’ong King (January , 1908) 
 
 
 M5 
 
 On the Main Road between Ch’ong King and Chentu 
 ( January , 1908) . . ... 
 
 158 
 
 Chentu (February) 
 
 
 176 
 
 On the River Min (February, 1908) 
 
 
 201 
 
 Gankin (March, 1908) 
 
 
 229 
 
 Chefoo .... 
 
 
 236 
 
 Huai Luh (September, 1908) 
 
 
 248 
 
 Ping Yao (October 28 th) 
 
 
 274 
 
 Nanking (December, 1908) 
 
 
 293 
 
 Hangcheo (January, 1909) 
 
 
 3°3 
 
 Shanghai (February, 1909) 
 
 ■ 
 
 322 
 
 vii 
 
 Index 
 
 • 3 2 9 
 

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PACING PAGP. 
 
 The Shanghai “Hansom” . ... 2 
 
 A Common Sight in China . ... 2 
 
 Teng-Cheo-Fu . . ... 30 
 
 A Girls’ School at Teng-Cheo-Fu . 42 
 
 Mule Litter . . . 52 
 
 Entrance to British Legation, Peking . . 64 
 
 Temple of Heaven, Peking . . 70 
 
 Entrance to Lama Temple, Peking . . .72 
 
 Lama Temple, Peking . . . . 80 
 
 Grotesque Gods . . ... 88 
 
 In the Yangtse Gorges . . . .112 
 
 Tong Lin Rapid . . . . . 114 
 
 Chin Rapid . . . . 120 
 
 Trackers pulling a Boat up the Rapids . .138 
 
 Typical Street . . . . 146 
 
 Riverside Houses at Ch’ong King . . .146 
 
 Two Members of our Military and Civil Escort . 166 
 
 On the Road to Chentu . . . . 166 
 
 Portable Kitchen . . . . . 184 
 
 New Year Salutations . ... 184 
 
 Temporary Dam, Kuan Hsien . . . . 194 
 
 Artificial Gorge . . . . . 194 
 
 Pagoda and Village on the Yangtse . . . 208 
 
 Embankment of Bamboo Baskets 
 
 212 
 
List of Illustrations 
 
 FACING PAGE 
 
 Bridal Pair at Ch’ong King Wedding . . .216 
 
 Shi Pao Temple on the Yangtse . . . 224 
 
 Wu-Pan on the Yangtse . ... 224 
 
 A Mandarin with his Attendants . . . 230 
 
 South Gate at Tai Y( 3 en Fu . . . . 254 
 
 Pagodas at Tai YOen Fu ... 268 
 
 A Shansi Inn . . ... 274 
 
 A Shansi Cart . . ... 284 
 
 Avenue of Stone Animals, Nanking . . . 296 
 
 Stone Figures, Nanking . ... 298 
 
 Five-roofed Bridge at Yangcheo . . . 300 
 
 Western Lake, Hangcheo . ... 306 
 
 Tower of the Thundering Peak, Hangcheo . . 308 
 
 Our Boat on the Tsien Tang River . . . 318 
 
 Tailor in Ba Kiao Ts'i’s House . . .318 
 
CHINA AS I SAW IT 
 
 Shanghai, 
 
 May ijth, 1907. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 Here we are actually in China, but it is un- 
 commonly difficult to realise. Imagine yourself trans- 
 ported hither on the magic carpet of the Arabian 
 Nights. You wonder, perhaps, where you are. Cross- 
 j ing a magnificent bridge over a river that consists 
 half of brown mud and half of brown boats — junks 
 and sampans — you stray into beautiful gardens of 
 velvet lawns and bright flower-beds in which are 
 English children and English nurses. There is even 
 an English policeman in khaki uniform, and for the 
 moment you think yourself back in England. 
 
 Walk down the riverside “ Bund ” under the trees 
 and look across at the stately mansions, the banks, 
 and the clubs, and the Custom House, and you will 
 see the last new thing in motor-cars whizzing down 
 the street ; the passers-by are talking German, or 
 Italian, or American, and you fancy yourself in some 
 Continental city ; but there are unfamiliar touches, 
 the Japanese rickshaws, for instance, and the Shanghai 
 wheelbarrows, and the Sikh policeman. 
 
 B 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 You go on a bit further and find yourself in France. 
 There are French names over the shops, French people 
 on the pavement, Parisian “ fiacres ” in the streets, 
 and a French air about the houses ; but the police- 
 men wear “ queues,” and in spite of their French 
 uniforms are evidently Chinese. Persevere and you 
 will come to China. 
 
 You started from something very like China, by 
 the way, on the other side of the bridge, but I forgot 
 to mention the fact, and by this time you are sur- 
 rounded by tumble-down shops, and houses like 
 decayed stables ; and the long-“ queued ” natives in 
 cotton-cloth garments of cornflower blue, who have 
 never been wholly lacking, increase tremendously in 
 numbers, and swarm over street and pavement. 
 
 There are no motor-cars any longer, but plenty of 
 wheelbarrows, and the wheelbarrow — the Shanghai 
 “ hansom ” as they call it — is a typical feature. It 
 consists of a wheel and very little else, and can carry 
 half a ton of luggage or a whole family party. The 
 great point to be considered is the balance, and it is 
 no uncommon sight to see a sturdy pig securely roped 
 to the ledge on one side of the wheel, whilst one or 
 more adults balance its weight on the other. When 
 the load is heavy the barrow man strains every muscle, 
 and staggers under its weight. It waggles ominously. 
 Every moment one fears it will turn over altogether, 
 but it never does. 
 
 Then there are the burden bearers — men with 
 bamboo poles across their shoulders, from either end 
 
THE SHANGHAI “HANSOM ' 
 
 From Drawings by X alive Artists. 
 
 A COMMON SIGHT IN CHINA 
 
 Page 2 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 of which heavy loads are suspended, men carrying 
 portable barber shops, portable kitchens and res- 
 taurants, portable anything, in fact. They say you 
 have only got to give a Chinese a pole and a bit of 
 rope, and there is nothing that he will not be able 
 to move — if you give him time. Men are cheaper 
 than horses in Shanghai, though horses are cheap 
 enough, and a heavily laden cart — a thing like a raft 
 on wheels — will be drawn along by a straining, per- 
 spiring team of bare-backed men. 
 
 The Sikhs in khaki uniforms at the corners of the 
 streets are superbly fine and large, and blissfully un- 
 perturbed. Their brilliant turbans of scarlet, red, or 
 pink — bright spots of colour above the crowd — re- 
 mind one of stately poppies in a field of cornflowers ; 
 not that the stolid Celestial is very much like a corn- 
 flower, but the everlasting cornflower blue of his 
 cotton-cloth garments provokes the comparison. Some 
 of them are not of cotton cloth, by the way, but of 
 rich brocaded silk ; even so the favourite colour is blue. 
 
 At home one would expect these grandly attired, 
 stately looking creatures to dwell in lordly mansions. 
 Possibly some of them do. In the residential streets 
 of Shanghai there are many magnificent houses in- 
 habited by wealthy Chinese — retired officials, etc., 
 who, having feathered their own nests, escape from 
 the extortions of their successors by dwelling under 
 British rule. But it is only a very few comparatively 
 who care to appear wealthy, and if you chance to 
 notice the wearer of an especially beautiful brocade 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 go back to his abode, you will probably be amazed to 
 see him disappear up a damp and odoriferous passage, 
 like a back entrance to a stable mews, and enter in at 
 a musty, dingy dwelling-place. If you glance in 
 through the open door you will most likely see nothing 
 but a blank wall, as the inner door, to be correct, 
 must open at right angles in order to keep off evil 
 spirits. Probably in that shadowy background there 
 are quite a number of people peering out to see who 
 is coming in. They are members of the brocaded 
 gentleman’s family. 
 
 We went out to dinner the other night at the home 
 of some of those well-to-do Chinese. The daughter 
 of the house had been educated in England, and was 
 a friend of Kay’s — Kay, my sister-in-law, under whose 
 wing, as you know, we have come to China. I be- 
 thought me of the stable mews as we turned out of 
 a busy thoroughfare into one of those unspeakably 
 obnoxious passage ways and round a corner. Most 
 things in China are round a corner ! We felt our 
 way — it was getting dark — up a step and down a step, 
 through a shadowy archway, and across a clumsily 
 paved court till we arrived at a door in a wall. This 
 led into a tiny courtyard. The guest-hall was divided 
 from the courtyard by large doors with glass panels, 
 in style of architecture akin to that of an English 
 coach-house plus glass panels (or they might have been 
 paper panels) to the coach-house doors. 
 
 We were distinctly late, but in China it seems there 
 is no necessity for punctuality at a dinner-party. The 
 
 4 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 usual plan is to arrive an hour or two before dinner, 
 and come away the moment the last mouthful has 
 been swallowed. The guest-hall seemed crowded 
 with people and tables. I perceived Kay with folded 
 hands hugging her fifth rib in the approved Chinese 
 style, bowing vigorously with many ejaculations in 
 front of a young Chinese — the son of the house — who 
 was also bowing vigorously, also with ejaculations, 
 also with folded hands ; but being a man, he raised 
 his hands before him and see-sawed the air with them. 
 The ladies clustered at the back of the room, and 
 evidently did not expect any attention until the 
 greeting with the lord and master was over. 
 
 Finally we placed ourselves formally in seats — 
 solid chairs of dark wood, ranged with their backs 
 against the wall. (The Chinese, by the way, very 
 much object to our untidy way of littering chairs 
 about the room.) Conversation, however, would have 
 been distinctly at a low ebb had it not been for Kay’s 
 fluent Chinese, for our host’s English was of uncertain 
 quantity. He filled up the gaps in his vocabulary, 
 however, by genial smiles, and all went blissfully. 
 
 When at last we were bidden to the feast there was 
 no longer any need for conversation. People have not 
 much time for talking at a Chinese meal. It reminded 
 me of some amusing game : the large round table 
 covered with Lilliputian dishes, the size of a doll’s 
 dinner service, or very little larger, and before each 
 guest a pair of chop-sticks and a china spoon shaped 
 like a tea-scoop. 
 
 5 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 This, fortunately, was a quiet family dinner, not 
 a feast, hence the rice — the duplicate of our bread — 
 was brought in at the beginning instead of the end. 
 A delicate porcelain basin heaped to the brim was 
 placed before each guest, and with its advent all 
 stiffness and formality was cast aside. Everybody 
 seized their chop-sticks and dug them vigorously into 
 any dish that appealed to them, dragging out lumps 
 of the contents, and spilling the half of them possibly 
 on the polished wood table (but that was quite “ en 
 regie ”), and dumping their booty either into their own 
 basins or their neighbour’s. To be polite the first 
 tit-bit, or any especially succulent morsel, should be 
 awarded to the neighbour. 
 
 The novice smiles bravely and eats courageously as 
 far as the chop-sticks will permit, but chop-sticks on 
 a first trial are as unmanageable as Alice’s flamingo 
 croquet mallet. The new-comer’s usual mistake is to 
 hold them too tightly and too low down. It is also 
 difficult for a beginner to finish the contents of his or 
 her rice-bowl. No sooner is the end in view than a 
 well-intentioned friend throws some fresh dainty into 
 the last layer of rice, and vigorous protests are mistaken 
 for polite thanks. And perhaps the most difficult 
 thing of all is to remember to make sufficient noise 
 while one is eating. To sip and “ suzzle ” loudly is 
 taken as a mark of appreciation ! 
 
 Strange mixtures were in those Lilliputian dishes — 
 shrimps smeared with green paste tasting of Gregory’s 
 rhubarb powder, fishes’ fins fried in lamp oil, sugared 
 
 6 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 pork and bamboo shoots, lotus bulbs and shredded ham 
 and chicken — gravies rich and juicy, and throughout 
 that indescribable taste of mouse-traps and black- 
 beetles in which one recognises the familiar smell of 
 a Chinese street. The tea came last, green tea, 
 appallingly wry, but served in exquisite old rose cups 
 on gilded stands. 
 
 The table, covered with greasy litterings, was 
 wiped over with a damp cloth and the refuse matter 
 sent on to the floor, whilst before the advent of the 
 tea, towels steamed in boiling water were handed 
 round with which to wipe our hands and faces. I have 
 wondered sometimes whether the Chinese share the 
 Japanese view and think that we, the foreign bar- 
 barians/* are dirty ” — “ dirty, lazy, and superstitious,” 
 isn’t that the Japanese version ? In some of their 
 ways the Chinese, taken as a whole, are cleaner than 
 we are. What do you think, for instance, of this 
 washing performance at the end of dinner, and how 
 about the “ tongue-scraper ” which I bought the 
 other day, and which most well-brought-up Chinese 
 use as regularly as we use tooth-brushes ? On the 
 other hand, in the muddy waters of the Suchow Creek 
 here at Shanghai, they will wash clothes and vegetables 
 indiscriminately ; and the floor under the table in 
 a Chinese guest-hall is literally unspeakable after 
 dinner is over, and not immaculate even to begin 
 with. 
 
 In spite of all, however, I found my first experience 
 of a Chinese meal distinctly amusing, though it 
 
 7 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 lacked some of the spicy details which I hear of at 
 other people’s dinners. Imagine a dish of “ garden 
 worms,” deliciously cooked, no doubt, but a “ worm’s 
 a worm for a’ that ” ; and even more revolting than 
 worms, the “ piece de resistance ” at a dinner given by 
 a wealthy Chinese merchant to the foreign members 
 of his firm. At either end of the table a couple of 
 rice basins were turned upside down ; these basins 
 were seen to move now and again rather suspiciously, 
 and when the last course of a very elaborate dinner 
 was over, the basins were taken away at a given signal, 
 and for one brief moment the table swarmed with 
 tiny live crabs scuttling in every direction. It was 
 only for a moment, however. With more speed than 
 dignity, the chop-sticks of the epicures arrested the 
 hurried flight of the escaped prisoners, and, dipping 
 the unhappy creatures into the inevitable black sauce, 
 raised them in a state of — let us hope quiescence — to 
 their epicurean mouths. 
 
 I forgot to mention the black sauce, by the way. 
 They tell me it is the basis of our Worcester sauce 
 in England, and no Chinese dinner is complete with- 
 out it. It appears on every dinner-table, and the 
 Chinese use it with their food and think it delicious. 
 To me it accentuated the black-beetle flavour, which, 
 however, they say one gets used to. 
 
 I suppose everyone who comes to China talks of 
 the “ swarming numbers ” of the Chinese, although, 
 according to one eminent authority of the present 
 time, the population of the country as a whole is said 
 
 8 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to have been overstated. I like to watch the crowd 
 coming and going. In some of the less foreignised 
 streets it seems to fill up the whole roadway from side 
 to side. It is a comfort to know that there is work 
 enough and to spare after the condition of things in 
 our homeland. As one watches their inscrutable faces 
 and notices their purposeful ways and unwearying 
 perseverance, one realises what a power they might 
 be, and will be, perhaps, some day. They are num- 
 bered — and no wonder — amongst the three great 
 peoples of the future. The Westerner comes and 
 goes, flitting over the surface of things, restless and 
 hurried like a buzzing bee. He gathers his honey, it 
 is true, but drops some of it in passing, which the 
 thrifty Celestial turns to his own account and smiles 
 inscrutably. He can afford to bide his time. He is 
 patient — it is another of his characteristics. 
 
 This afternoon we went to see these thrifty celes- 
 tials in their own haunts. We paid a visit to the native 
 city, the old original city of Shanghai, very nearly 
 the same to-day as it has been for many hundreds of 
 years, and I think one realises there something of the 
 obstacles which still stand in the way of progress. 
 We dismounted from our rickshaws outside the gates, 
 and, joining the ever-flowing stream of Chinese, 
 crossed the little bridge which spans the moat and 
 entered in at the massive black gates, studded with 
 huge nails like the gates of an old Norman castle, in 
 great stone walls blackened with age. Inside the gates 
 poor leprous beggars crouched in the shadows ap- 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 pealing for alms. We had entered into the eerie 
 haunts of fear and superstition. 
 
 Our path swerved suddenly to the left, and led us 
 by a deviating way to the inner gates. Had we been 
 wandering spirits bent on mischief we should have 
 been considerably baffled at this unexpected turn, 
 for, according to theory, evil spirits always fly straight. 
 Hence the inner gates of a city are at right angles or 
 some kind of an angle to the outer. A narrow stone- 
 flagged passage led us down under the shadow of the 
 wall, then, turning suddenly, plunged us into a narrow 
 alley-way oozing with blue-gowned people and gay- 
 coloured shops — tiny one-storied shops, shops of jade 
 and ivory, silk and silver, bristling with shop-signs 
 and scrolls and hanging lanterns — chiefly red and gold. 
 There was just room enough to walk, hardly more. 
 Now and again the people in the crowd pressed back 
 one against the other to let a sedan-chair be carried 
 by — a bright green chair, covered in on every side 
 so that none might see who sat therein. 
 
 The contents of some of the little shops filtered out 
 on to the flagstones of the alley-way. In the res- 
 taurants — dark hovels with mud floors and dirty 
 tables — culinary operations on rough brick stoves, 
 half in the shops and half out, were going on in full 
 view of the passers-by ; and in a dyer’s establishment 
 close to, cloth was publicly undergoing the process 
 of being dyed blue. On the other hand, there were 
 places of merchandise which seemed at first sight to 
 have nothing to sell ; the wares, probably silk or some- 
 
 IO 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 thing of the kind, were kept out of sight in the shadowy- 
 background, wrapped in paper and put away on 
 shelves. 
 
 Most of the shops were uncommonly dark — too 
 much light is dangerous and might tempt evil spirits 
 to fly in and take up their abode. And whitewash is 
 unlucky, as white is the colour of mourning. These 
 evil spirits give the shop people no end of trouble. 
 When the apprentices are taking down the shutters 
 in the morning they must be careful not to talk to 
 each other in the street, or the demons may be at- 
 tracted by their voices and enter the shop. Then the 
 “ abacus ” every day must be taken up and well shaken 
 and carefully dusted, just in case a demon has lodged 
 in it during the night.* At the beginning of the year, 
 and on any especial feast day, the “ god of riches ” 
 must be shown especial attention, in order to ensure 
 good luck. 
 
 High-flown sentiments, presumably from the clas- 
 sics, are doubtless considered lucky. Hardly a shop 
 was without something of the kind written up some- 
 where. 
 
 The narrow streets in this strange city were like 
 the pathways in a maze. Somewhere in the midst of 
 them there is a temple and a picturesque tea-house 
 on a tiny lake with fantastic bridges — the original, 
 so people say, of the “ willow pattern ” — but to get to it 
 we had apparently to turn in the opposite direction, 
 like Alice in the Looking Glass garden. It seems that 
 * Chinese Superstitions , by Joshua Vale. 
 
 ii 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 it is not possible to go straight to anything in China, 
 so we kept on turning corners and finding ourselves 
 in fresh alley-ways crowded with shops and seething 
 with people. The little houses were squeezed up 
 together with never a bit of free space anywhere. 
 
 What is done with the rubbish ? one asked. Some- 
 body replied that there wasn’t any. The only two 
 things China has ever been known to waste are time 
 and feathers. And another suggested that the 
 scavenger dogs, of which we have come across several 
 pitiable objects, ate up all the refuse matter. Just 
 then, however, the mystery was solved. A particu- 
 larly filthy pail of water was brought forth and poured 
 between the yawning crevices of the paving-stones 
 on which we were walking. Looking down, one per- 
 ceived the glint of black water and realised that under 
 our feet lay an open drain. 
 
 The famous “ willow pattern ” tea-house was 
 reached at last ; I need not describe it to you, for you 
 know it quite well from the plates. It was picturesque 
 enough, or would have been if only the water round 
 the building with pagoda roofs had been more like 
 water and less like mutton broth. In another instant 
 we found ourselves as though by magic in the outer 
 court of the city temple. One thought of the “ tables 
 of the money-changers, and the seats of them that 
 sold doves.” There were the tables of the fortune- 
 tellers and the scribes, the public letter writers and 
 the lottery ticket vendors. There were booths like 
 the booths in our country fairs, and food stalls on 
 
 12 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 which the one thing I noticed was a large tub full 
 of floating slugs. 
 
 In the outer porch of the temple Gogs and Magogs, 
 with horribly distorted faces of painted wood, kept 
 guard over the portals of the inner sanctum. At first, 
 in the dim light, it was difficult to make out more 
 than the faintest outline of the great idol raised on 
 curtained da'fs in the place of honour. The city god 
 this, in whose hands lies the fate not only of the dead, 
 but also more indirectly of the living. In the nether 
 world, you must know, there is a phantom city the 
 counterpart of this one, over which the city god, 
 with a staff of phantom officials, holds sway. Due 
 honour and attention must be paid not only to the 
 god himself, but to his attendants — represented by 
 the giant figures in the outer porch — for in the phan- 
 tom Yamen, as in the real Yamen, the official’s under- 
 lings must be propitiated if one desires a favour from 
 the chief. 
 
 On our way back through the city we lingered a 
 moment in the outer court of the real Yamen, the 
 palace of the governing mandarin. Through open 
 gateways we caught a glimpse of the “ seat of justice ” 
 at the far end of a long, narrow court, draped in gold 
 and scarlet, where at certain times and seasons the 
 mandarin “ tries ” the cases that are brought before 
 him. But the very thought of the “ seat of justice ” 
 in China conjures up scenes of blood-curdling torture 
 and stories of cruel injustice. 
 
 The “ skeleton at the feast ” is everywhere in 
 
 13 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 evidence ; almost more conspicuous than the shops 
 for the living are the shops for the dead. In some of 
 these were houses for sale, the size of dove-cots ; 
 sedan-chairs ; boats ; even men and horses made of 
 brilliantly coloured paper, cleverly fashioned. 
 
 Should you wish to give some relative in the other 
 world a sedan-chair with bearers, you would buy one 
 of those and a certain number of paper men and 
 have them burnt at the temple or by the priests. 
 
 Then there are the money shops, hung with long 
 strings of “ silver and gold ” money, shaped in large 
 lumps the size of hoofs and covered w r ith tin-foil. 
 This also is for the dead, for in the phantom city 
 money is as necessary as in the real one, and many 
 thousands, if not millions, of dollars are spent every 
 year in the purchase of tin-foil “ silver,” great quanti- 
 ties of which are also offered in worship to the gods. 
 
 Then there are the red candles to be burned in 
 temples, the incense sticks, the crackers, the lanterns, 
 the paper dragons, and, more conspicuous than all, 
 the coffins — coffins of immense size and thickness. 
 Indeed, one of the most acceptable presents you can 
 make in China is a coffin. 
 
 One would suppose that the shadow of this dreaded 
 nether world must take all the sunshine out of this, 
 but no, the shadow falls but fitfully. There is a 
 current saying in China which I have heard given in 
 these words : — 
 
 “Worship the gods as if the gods were there, 
 
 But if you worship not, the gods don’t care.” 
 
 >4 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 And gradually in this great city of Shanghai the old 
 order is changing, giving place to new. The young 
 men of the coming generation are not slow in availing 
 themselves of the opportunities offered for the acquire- 
 ment of “ Western learning,” and as in the majority 
 of cases this can only be got through mission schools 
 and colleges, they are brought into contact with that 
 which may mean far more to them than all the rest 
 of the “ ologies ” put together, for in the words of 
 an eminent author * of the present day, “ That which 
 China needs is righteousness, and in order to attain it 
 it is absolutely necessary that she have a knowledge 
 of God and a new conception of man as well as of the 
 relation of man to God.” 
 
 Meanwhile superstition dies hard. It meets one 
 on every occasion and in the most unlikely ways. 
 Close to where we are staying in Shanghai stands the 
 tower in which the fire-bell hangs. Whenever there 
 is a fire, and fires are numerous, the bell peals forth 
 a sonorous warning, announcing by the number of 
 strokes the district in which the fire is raging. For 
 the first three or four months after the palatial new 
 Custom House was built there happened to be an 
 unusual dearth of fires in Shanghai. The fire-god, 
 so said the Chinese, had mistaken the chimes of the 
 Custom House clock for the fire-bell, and, concluding 
 that the city was having fires enough, need not be 
 troubled by any more ! How he discovered his mis- 
 take history does not relate. 
 
 * Dr. A. Smith. 
 
 15 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 But you will have had enough of Shanghai by this 
 time. I, too, am quite ready to move on. For 
 Shanghai, like the curate’s egg, which was only 
 “ good in parts,” is only Chinese in parts. Wait till 
 we get inland ; we shall have something interesting to 
 write about then. To-morrow we go on to Chefoo to 
 shelter from the heat of the summer, and after that 
 expect to start on our travels. 
 
 Deborah, by the way, does not mean, and never 
 did mean to go inland ; but then Deborah did not 
 really want ever to come to China. She came under 
 protest, and now she is enjoying it more than I am. 
 But then, of course, Shanghai is not China ! 
 
 Yours as ever, 
 
 VERONICA. 
 
 j6 
 
Chefoo, 
 
 June 20 th. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 We have been three and a half days getting 
 here, because, forsooth, we travelled by a German 
 boat, and the German boats spend the best part of 
 a day at Tsingtau taking in cargo. Tsingtau, as I 
 dare say you know, belongs to Germany, and out- 
 fatherlands the Fatherland. It has obliterated 
 “ China ” altogether and has great aspirations — 
 political, commercial, and otherwise — which, so says 
 the little green bird, are doomed to failure. 
 
 I can’t say I was particularly attracted by the place, it 
 is too unfledged. The roads are painfully new, the little 
 trees planted along the sides are hardly more than over- 
 grown plants ; the houses, and there are streets upon 
 streets of houses, are heavily built and thick-set, 
 and always of two colours, yellow picked out with 
 white, and red with grey. The town, however, is 
 prettily situated in a sheltered bay, and the streets 
 climb up and down hill, which gives a natural 
 beauty to an otherwise prosaic little “ German ” 
 town. 
 
 And Chefoo — what of Chefoo ? My first idea of 
 it was a harbour closely packed with shipping and a 
 bobbing steam launch reached by a desperate leap 
 c 17 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 from a swaying gangway, which landed us finally c 
 a stone quay amongst a clamouring crowd of excite( 
 Chinese coolies, who fell like birds of prey on our 
 boxes and thrust their rickshaws up against us in the 
 hopes of a fare — the strongest and most insistent 
 winning the day. 
 
 But the harbour, with its shipping and the clamour- 
 ing coolies, have been left behind in the foreign 
 settlement, and the sketch I would like to draw you 
 of Chefoo is that of a little town circling round the 
 shores of a bay in the bluest of blue seas, nestling at 
 the foot of the hills — bare, woodless hills, rising 
 suddenly. 
 
 We are staying by especial favour at the China 
 Inland Mission Sanatorium, a great verandahed, be- 
 balconied house, charmingly situated on the slope of 
 a hill five minutes’ climb above the sands, with a 
 garden of flowers around it, and behind it the little 
 road crawling up over the hills with its never-ceasing 
 procession of wayfarers in blue cotton gowns. 
 
 There are few sounds in the air save the murmur of 
 the sea and the sleepy tinkling of the passing mule 
 bells, and were I a Chinese I should add the “ music ” 
 of the scissor-grinders screeching in the willow trees, 
 and the squeaking of the wheelbarrow wheels. There 
 are numerous wheelbarrows at Chefoo, used for carry- 
 ing heavy loads, and the wheels always squeak. A 
 squeak is lucky, and is, moreover, a pleasant sound 
 in the ears of a Celestial. A wheelbarrow without a 
 squeak is like a dead thing. Someone overheard two 
 
 18 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 barrow men discussing the merits of their respective 
 barrows the other day. 
 
 “ Ah ! ” said one regretfully, “ I had a good barrow 
 once. It would carry three hundred catties and sing 
 all the time like an army of crickets.” 
 
 The sound of the cricket means to a working man 
 in China the happiest time of the year, when the 
 fields are ripening to harvest and he can rest awhile 
 from his strenuous labours basking in the sunshine. 
 
 I long to be able to understand what they say — 
 these passers-by. They look at one with a calm in- 
 terest and a slight air of superiority. Most of them 
 are hard at work — bearing heavy burdens or wheeling 
 heavy barrows, or guiding a couple of mules with 
 a litter. They do not talk much, these men, and 
 what they say is probably not worth listening to ; but 
 their calm, intellectual faces are interesting, and, as I 
 say, I long to be able to understand their language. 
 
 As a first step I am taking lessons in Chinese, and 
 though I begin to doubt whether I shall ever learn 
 enough to be of any use, the study is as fascinating as 
 the study of some intricate puzzle. 
 
 Our first teacher was old and decrepit, and swathed 
 in a blue gown with sleeves so long that his hands were 
 invisible. His method of teaching reminded one of 
 a gramophone. At the beginning of a certain Chinese 
 primer there is a list of useful words commencing 
 with “ O, Ni, Ta,” and ending with “ Bing-Ding.” 
 Our little man hobbled to his seat, bowed, and started 
 declaiming in a loud, sonorous voice the list of words 
 
 19 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 from “ O, Ni, Ta,” to “ Bing-Ding,” and having got to 
 the end, began again at the beginning. He never 
 once stopped or allowed us to interrupt in any way 
 whatever. We might repeat the words after him 
 if we liked or remain silent. Our proceedings 
 were of absolutely no consequence to him. Un- 
 consciously we had wound up our mechanical toy, 
 and must wait patiently until the machinery ran 
 down. This did not happen, alas ! until the end of an 
 hour. We had engaged him for an hour, and seeing 
 by the clock that time was up, he rose suddenly, 
 bowed profoundly, and hobbled out of the room. 
 
 Our present teacher is less intellectual in appearance 
 than the aged automaton, but fortunately he is also 
 less mechanical in his methods. He is heavily built 
 and heavy featured ; his manner is somewhat servile, 
 his clothes are old and worn, his cloth shoes are all to 
 bits, his oil-paper umbrella is in holes, and the tidiest 
 thing about him is his fan. He makes up for his 
 poverty-stricken appearance by a slow, ponderous 
 gait, resting first on one foot and then on the other 
 in a manner supposed to be dignified and befitting 
 to a learned B.A. He suffers from chronic catarrh, 
 and uses the window as his pocket-handkerchief, 
 which is somewhat distressing ; but his cold, I begin 
 to think, is the only thing that keeps him awake. Even 
 that fails sometimes. 
 
 Learning is held in great reverence in China ; 
 scholars are looked up to with respect — but all the 
 same are miserably paid for their services. Imagine 
 
 20 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 about six shillings a month to a Bachelor of Arts 
 for an hour a day ! 
 
 Whether we are to blame or the teacher I know 
 not, but our progress in the language is certainly not 
 rapid. It is some comfort to think that there is not 
 a Chinese living who can “ recognise ” the whole of 
 the forty-four thousand characters. To “ recognise 
 character,” by the way, means to be able to read. 
 But apart from the characters the idiom presents 
 untold difficulties to a Western mind. With a view 
 to future conversations I learnt by heart such com- 
 monplace sentences as these : — 
 
 “ Middle Kingdom talk, speak get come, speak not 
 come ? ” * * * § 
 
 To this imaginary question I picture myself an- 
 swering : — 
 
 “ Some clause words speak get come.” 
 
 I learning slowly, end not attain.f 
 At this point I change the subject abruptly, as the 
 following is a sentence which can be easily remem- 
 bered, and ask : — 
 
 “ He is this in of man, eh ? ” t 
 It is to be hoped that there is a “ he,” by the way, 
 to give point to this question, which in the imaginary 
 conversation has the rather improbable answer of : — 
 “ He is outside Kingdom man.” § 
 
 * Do you speak Chinese ? 
 
 t I speak a little. I learn slowly. 
 
 | Is he a resident of this place ? 
 
 § He is a foreigner. 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 But alas ! when you have mastered the idiom a 
 greater difficulty still confronts you. It is more than 
 likely that in using the wrong tone of voice you have 
 conveyed an absolutely different meaning to the one 
 you intended. By speaking in the upper level tone 
 instead of the lower level tone, or the vanishing tone 
 instead of the entering tone — it sounds horribly con- 
 fusing, doesn’t it ? — you have spoilt the whole thing, 
 and by some slight mistake of this kind have said 
 river * instead of fire,* or sleep f instead of water, t 
 or duck’s eggs t instead of Adam.t 
 
 Or possibly you have aspirated the letter “ k ” 
 that should have been left unaspirated, and this may 
 make all the difference between a wife and a fowl. 
 A story is told of two young missionaries who sent 
 out their servant to buy them fowls, but they used 
 the sharp “ k ” instead of the soft one. The man, 
 puzzled, went out and never came back again until 
 the evening. He was crestfallen and disconsolate, 
 having failed in his quest. He had been out all day 
 trying to get wives instead of fowls. 
 
 In a monosyllabic language of forty-four thousand 
 different characters and only about four hundred 
 and sixty sounds, it stands to reason that there are 
 numbers and numbers of words which sound exactly 
 alike, and very often cannot even be distinguished 
 by a tone of voice. Under the sound of “ chi,” 
 
 * River, fire = “ ho.”j 
 t Sleep, water = “shui.” 
 
 } Adam, duck’s eggs = “ ya-tan.” 
 
 22 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 a certain well-known dictionary gives nearly two 
 hundred different words. Imagine a sentence of 
 this kind : — 
 
 “ chi chi chi chi, chi chi chi, chi chi ch’ih.” 
 
 It sounds like stammering, doesn’t it ? but it is 
 quite a sensible sentence.* 
 
 Did I tell you, by the way, that printed paper in 
 China is sacred ? “ The eyes of the gods,” they call 
 the printed characters, and the devout accumulate 
 merit in the world to come by collecting printed 
 paper that no one wants and taking it to the temple 
 to be burnt by the priests. 
 
 “ What’s in a name ? ” might well be asked in 
 China. Smallpox marks, for instance, are talked of as 
 “ heaven’s flowers.” This might almost lead one to 
 suppose that they are considered a mark of beauty. 
 The Chinese standard of good looks differs appreciably 
 from our own. A square face, large ears, and a 
 broad mouth, for instance, in a man are much ad- 
 mired. In many cases the bridge of the nose is so 
 far non-existent that the one eye can, an it please, 
 look across and see the other eye ! Very possibly the 
 high official in whose august presence we found our- 
 selves yesterday evening would be considered strikingly 
 handsome from a Chinese point of view. He seemed 
 to me strikingly hideous. All the same, I should much 
 have liked to be introduced to him. My companion, 
 
 * When one’s hunger is keen, one recollects that there are fowls to 
 be had, and makes an arrangement by which one can get them to eat 
 (somewhat free translation). 
 
 23 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 however, Mrs. W., who had known China in the days 
 when our very presence (as women) at any public 
 gathering would have been an unpardonable infringe- 
 ment of etiquette, impressed me with the fact that 
 we must keep as much in the background as possible, 
 turn our faces away on the entrance of the officials, 
 rivet our eyes on the ground, and give no sign of in- 
 telligence. 
 
 It was, after all, a very informal kind of gathering. 
 A missionary lately returned from the famine district 
 in the province of Kiang-si had been invited by the 
 Tao-tai of the place to give an account of the relief 
 works which he had been organising for the benefit 
 of the sufferers. The inhabitants of the town — only 
 the male inhabitants (as goes without saying in China) 
 — had been invited to be present. 
 
 The meeting was held in a beautiful garden of 
 trees of graceful foliage, softly illuminated by gor- 
 geous rose-tinted paper lanterns. When we arrived 
 everybody was there except the Tao-tai himself — 
 rows upon rows of solemn-eyed men with high fore- 
 heads and clean-shaven faces — in front of them an 
 open space and a small table with teacups, by the 
 side of which a rotund and be-spectacled minor 
 official in silk brocade bowed smilingly, see-sawing 
 the air with his folded hands. To Western eyes the 
 smile of polite society over here is distinctly overdone. 
 It is so set, so intense as to lose all the charm of an 
 ordinary smile and to acquire some of the character- 
 istics of a fiendish leer. 
 
 24 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The rotund official made a little speech, and, after 
 having waited for some time in vain for the “ great 
 man ” to appear, proceedings commenced without 
 him. 
 
 “ Be careful how you sit,” whispered Mrs. W. 
 “ Don’t loll. Sit up straight. Don’t look about ! ” 
 
 Suddenly shouts from the street outside announced 
 His Highness’s approach. Somew'here in the back- 
 ground a great commotion was going on. A silence 
 fell over the circle round the teacups, and from the 
 shadowy regions beyond the light of the lanterns 
 one of the Yamen attendants, in scarlet dress and 
 mushroom hat (he reminded me of a knave in a pack 
 of cards), darted forward, whispered a word in the 
 ear of the rotund official, who no longer smiled, and 
 dived back whence he came. 
 
 The whole assembly rose to its feet, and the rotund 
 official advanced to meet His Excellency the Tao-tai. 
 A long line of knaves — diamond knaves or heart 
 knaves — carrying giant lanterns of red silk, all glowing 
 brightly, appeared out of the darkness, and, standing 
 to one side, allowed their chief to pass forward in 
 state. 
 
 “ Don’t look at him,” whispered Mrs. W. “ You 
 must not appear to see him.” And so literally was 
 her advice taken that I am sure the Tao-tai must have 
 thought the “ foreign barbarians ” wanting in man- 
 ners. I heard afterwards that being an enlightened 
 Tao-tai, who had travelled and knew something of 
 our strange customs, he had looked in our direction 
 
 25 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and had given a courteous bow. Mrs. W., however, 
 would permit no regrets. 
 
 “ He would have seen,” she said, “ that we knew 
 how to behave.” 
 
 His Excellency was ungainly in figure — his back 
 round and stooping, his general appearance lumpy ; 
 but this is the “ literary ” stoop, they tell me, and 
 the correct attitude for a civil dignitary. His pro- 
 truding eyes were made the most of by heavily rimmed 
 spectacles — another mark of dignity in China. He 
 had a heavy black moustache — a great glory in a land 
 where all moustaches are forbidden by etiquette 
 before the age of forty, and are by no means always 
 achieved in later life. On his head he wore a hat of 
 the nature of a white cardboard lamp-shade, orna- 
 mented by a scarlet and black fringe and a red coral 
 button. His garb was of pale blue-grey silk, singu- 
 larly beautiful in tone of colour, and from the jewelled 
 girdle round his waist was suspended his fan-case. 
 
 The address over, one of the attendants stepped 
 forward to pour out tea from the teapot on the table, 
 which, having “ stood ” so long, was uncommonly 
 nasty. We, of course, were not supposed to have any, 
 but in our shadowy corner it seemed to me it mattered 
 very little what we did or did not do. The officials, 
 over their teacups, had entered into conversation with 
 the foreigners. 
 
 It was getting late, and Mrs. W. was anxious to 
 “ slip away.” Outside in the road the Tao-tai’s 
 escort reminded one of a gipsy caravan broken into 
 
 26 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 by a Guy Fawkes procession : shaggy ponies standing 
 in the gutters, slovenly soldiers sitting on the kerb- 
 stones, Yamen runners leaning against the walls, sedan- 
 chairs and Chinese lanterns made a quaint medley. 
 
 It is curious the poverty-stricken air which wealth 
 often assumes in China. The grand house with its 
 shabby gateway, the broken-down, ill-groomed pony 
 with rope-mended harness in an official’s escort, the 
 soldier in a battered “ sailor ” hat, the dirty, untidy 
 shops with mud floors, in which valuable bits of 
 delicate porcelain stand side by side with the com- 
 monest of earthenware on dust-lined shelves ; and 
 where the wealthy proprietor sits down with his sons 
 and employees at a dingy table in the back of the shop 
 to a meal of rice and pickles. Rice, by the way, up 
 here in the north of China is called “ rich man’s food,” 
 as it has all to be brought from other parts of the 
 country. 
 
 We came across many of these “ wealthy ” shops 
 the other day in the native streets of Chefoo — streets 
 of mud broken into holes and puddles, with an 
 occasional stepping-stone, between low, one-storied 
 buildings, sadly dilapidated, built with open fronts, 
 which are closed in at night by shutters. The fruit 
 shops looked the most attractive. Never have I seen 
 such beautiful fruit or tasted any that had less flavour. 
 The deep rose-tinted peaches of wet pulp, the golden 
 pears and crimson apples of wood and water, and an 
 insipid carmine-pink water-melon with a green skin — 
 they were all alike. 
 
 27 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Now and again a better-class establishment, prob- 
 ably a wholesale opium store or a money-changer’s, 
 stood up above the rest of the houses on flights of 
 steps. Through the wide-open green doors at the 
 back of the building a tiny courtyard with a pink 
 oleander in the middle of it formed a picturesque 
 setting to the sombre place of business. 
 
 At a street stall near by a man sat busily making 
 paper fans. The wall behind him was covered with 
 bright - coloured paper, like gay “ posters,” which 
 would soon be deftly twisted and fastened into shape. 
 At the opposite corner, under a giant umbrella fixed 
 into the ground, iced treacle water was being offered 
 for sale, and a professional letter writer leant over a 
 small table inscribing Chinese characters at great 
 speed, while an interested crowd looked on. 
 
 Most shops owned a bird in a cage — for luck. 
 Besides which, birds are great pets in China. One 
 meets them in the streets being taken out for airings, 
 and very strange it looks to see a rough, poorly 
 dressed labouring man gently carrying along his cage 
 with its tiny feathered occupant, or sitting on the 
 roadside with some acquaintances who have all got 
 their bird-cages with them. In the disastrous Chino- 
 Japanese war people who saw the Chinese soldiers 
 fleeing through this part of the country say that 
 many of them were carrying bird-cages as well as 
 their bows and arrows. 
 
 Weary of shopping, we finally strayed into a native 
 restaurant to dine in Chinese style. We entered a 
 
 28 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 dirty black shed filled with cooking stoves and culinary 
 utensils, which looked more like a blacksmith’s forge 
 than anything else, and, diving down a tiny passage 
 which served as a larder, we stepped through into the 
 dining-room — a small, square, roofed-in enclosure — 
 one could hardly call it a room — in which there were 
 two or three tables of dark polished wood surrounded 
 by high stools. The “ waiters ” said they had never 
 had “outside Kingdom men” to dine there before, 
 and were evidently much amused. A boy, bare to 
 the waist, his face wreathed in smiles, poured weak 
 tea into small, handleless cups by way of a beginning. 
 Then came the basins of “ mien,” a kind of native 
 macaroni, to be eaten, of course, with chop-sticks. It 
 was like tackling worms with penholders, but we suc- 
 ceeded in the end, leaving, however, a goodly portion 
 for the bare-backed boy to finish. After the “ mien ” 
 basins of strange mixtures were brought in, half a 
 dozen at a time — bamboo sprouts and sugared pork, 
 decayed fungi and some famous dainty from Hong 
 Kong — a kind of slippery seaw'eed with the flavour of 
 iodoform. We did our best and tasted bravely of 
 everything. Then came the bill. Six of us had dined 
 and there had been many courses. How much do 
 you think it was ? Thirty-eight cents in all ! A little 
 more than one penny per head ! 
 
 This letter has been a long time getting finished, 
 but the weather has grown so hot one has hardly 
 sufficient energy even to write letters. 
 
 I think I forgot to tell you, by the way, that I have 
 
 29 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 changed my name. We all do this in China, and the 
 queer thing is that you have to take one of the names 
 mentioned in the book of the hundred names. In 
 reality I believe there are nearly three hundred to 
 choose from, but that, of course, is little enough. The 
 result is that the same name comes over and over 
 again in the same place, and the head mandarin and 
 the cook and the coolie and the teacher and the 
 foreigner are probably all called “ U ” or “ Li,” and 
 cannot improve matters like the Smiths and the 
 Browns at home by adding on another name and a 
 hyphen. When a foreigner takes a Chinese name he 
 either translates his own, if it is translatable, or gets 
 the nearest equivalent in point of sound. My own 
 name now masquerades as “ Lo.” I will sign myself 
 by it for fun. 
 
 30 
 
TENG-CHEO-FU 
 
Tenc-Cheo-Fu, 
 
 September io tb. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 We have been here a week, seeing something 
 of real unforeignised China, and though this place is 
 only sixty miles or so from Chefoo, it would have 
 taken us two days to get here by road. Fortunately, 
 however, we chanced on a toy steamer, which did the 
 journey in about five hours, and landed us on a sandy 
 shore ever so far away from anywhere ; but as a 
 matter of fact, the city was only about half a mile off, 
 hiding behind its great walls. Sedan-chairs carried 
 us through the surf to the shore, and we were borne 
 quickly along across the ragged, unkempt stretch of 
 “ no man’s land,” past crops of millet on rough scraps 
 of cultivated ground and houses of the cow-shed order. 
 Finally we dived under one of the arched gateways 
 in the great castellated wall — built in 300 b.c., and 
 still just the same as it was then, so people say — and 
 were soon inside the city, threading our way through 
 a perfect labyrinth of walls. Whatever else is lacking 
 in China, a wall of some kind is essential. If you have 
 no stone, build it of bricks or pebbles ; and if pebbles 
 are not possible, use mud and seaweed, or anything 
 that may suggest itself. The streets seemed to me to 
 be mere passage ways between the walls, the houses 
 
 31 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 were lost to sight behind the walls, the sounds were 
 deadened and muffled by the walls, the only breaks 
 were doorways within the walls, and the few people 
 one met stood gazing after us, edging up tightly 
 against the walls. We wound round corners and 
 turned at sharp angles, and were suddenly taken by 
 surprise to find ourselves face to face with a little 
 English church opposite a stream of water under the 
 willows, a curious contrast to its walled-in surround- 
 ings. We knew we could not be far off now, and 
 another turn or two brought us to a gate under a 
 porch in a creeper-clad wall, overshadowed by trees 
 about which there was a familiar touch of home. 
 That was my first view of Teng-Cheo-Fu. 
 
 My next was from the top of the city wall, where 
 there is a broad, grassy, bramble-grown road on which 
 the “ foreign barbarians ” like to walk in order to get 
 away from the smells and the closeness of the narrow 
 streets. Looking down from those airy heights, you 
 no longer see walls, but roofs — one great level plain 
 of them, the same breadth, the same pattern, two 
 sloping sides from a curved ridge, and here and there 
 a dark smudge of green where a handful of trees 
 breaks the line of roofs ; or a cloud of gold dust in the 
 air, which points out the site of a threshing floor. 
 They are like the old Biblical threshing floors ; the 
 same primitive implements of two thousand years 
 ago are still in use, and just now they are busy thresh- 
 ing out the newly harvested millet. 
 
 We stayed till the sun went down and the city wall 
 
 32 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 stood out fierce and black against the rose-red fire of 
 the western sky. Away to the north the sea lay in 
 shadow, and below us a gossamer veil fell over the 
 dusky grey of the roof-tops and made one vast blur 
 of the whole. 
 
 As we sit sometimes in the shady verandah of our 
 hostess’s house, only a stone’s throw from the street, 
 it is difficult to believe we are in the midst of a great 
 city — the air is strangely and uncannily silent. There 
 are people passing, passing all the time — we neither 
 see them nor hear them. Their cloth shoes or their 
 bare feet, as the case may be, give no sound. There 
 is no wheeled traffic, and the mules treading through 
 the dust make as little noise as the men. Now and 
 again the persistent whining of a beggar rises and 
 falls in mournful cadence, and for three days and 
 three nights, at frequent intervals, in a house not far 
 away there were sounds of loud lamentations as a 
 bereaved widow wept and wailed for the appointed 
 space of time. Occasionally, if money is no object, 
 someone is hired to do the requisite amount of crying 
 for the chief mourners. Tears without cries are of 
 no avail, the weeping must be loud and agonised, so 
 that all men may hear and know. 
 
 Just lately a sad tragedy has taken place in the home 
 of one of the leading families of the town. The only 
 son has died from the results of burns caused by the 
 mosquito curtains of his bed catching fire one night 
 while he was asleep. Our hostess is on very friendly 
 terms with the dead man’s mother and sister and the 
 
 D 
 
 33 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 poor young widow. They all live together in the 
 approved Chinese style, in a palatial house not far 
 from where we are staying. 
 
 Our hostess, returning from a visit of condolence, has 
 actually brought with her an invitation for Deborah 
 and myself. This is only the first week of mourning, 
 yet the bereaved mother will be “ very pleased ” if 
 we will go and see her. Is it not extraordinary from 
 our point of view ? But, as you know, everything 
 is contrariwise out here, and a certain amount of 
 publicity is courted at times of great mourning. We 
 must even dress as gaily as possible, we are told, as 
 this will be expected of us. 
 
 I will finish my letter after our visit is over, as you 
 will be interested to hear how we got on. 
 
 It was the strangest visit I have ever paid. We 
 arrived to find the great doors of the palatial house 
 draped and festooned in white sackcloth. The gate- 
 keeper ushered us in, and silently we walked through 
 an outer court into an inner court, and still further. 
 
 At this point some of the ladies of the house came 
 to meet us — dainty, gently smiling little women, with 
 soft, clinging ways. They took our hostess’s hands 
 and held them affectionately. They were, of course, 
 in mourning — the plainest of dark blue cotton tunics 
 and trousers, and the orthodox white mourning shoes. 
 They led us up the steps into the house. The poor 
 bereaved mother, a solemn, elderly little woman, with 
 
 34 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 a refined and intellectual face, clad in the same simple 
 blue garments, with the same tiny white shoes on her 
 poor bound feet, the size of small hoofs, stood awaiting 
 us. She took our hands — Deborah’s and mine — in 
 the same pretty, clinging way, and led us through into 
 an inner room — a small room, and filled almost entirely 
 by a coffin of enormous size placed on trestles, and 
 in front of it a table with a picture of the dead man 
 under a glass case and flowers and other mementoes. 
 It was a difficult moment, especially for us, with our 
 limited knowledge of the language. They say, how- 
 ever, the Chinese know a great deal more than we do 
 by intuition. It almost amounts with them to a 
 sixth sense. Let us hope, therefore, that they realised 
 our sympathy to the full, though we could not ex- 
 press it in words. 
 
 Out of compliment I think to our hostess, for whom 
 they evidently entertained a very affectionate regard, 
 we were finally conducted into the inner room, the 
 bedroom, as it turned out, of the mistress of the house, 
 a comfortless apartment enough, consisting chiefly 
 of the “ Keng,” a brick bed, in which a fire is lit in 
 winter, and on which at night the wadded quilts of 
 the bed itself are laid ; but in the daytime, apparently, 
 it is spread with a strip of white matting and serves 
 as a sofa. Round the wall, cupboards like large har- 
 moniums and massive mahogany chairs and tables 
 were placed in stiff and somewhat crowded array. 
 The brick bed made a most uncomfortable seat. We 
 sat on it, three in a row, our feet dangling, as we 
 
 35 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 were too high up to reach the floor. Behind us a 
 large window with wooden slats and paper panes. 
 Opposite to us another window of the same descrip- 
 tion. 
 
 Conversation, as you may well believe, laboured 
 under difficulties. Mrs. W., our hostess, was engaged 
 in talking to the old grandmother, who had just ap- 
 peared on the scene. Deborah and I were left with 
 a room half full of people, who not one of them spoke 
 a word of English. We had given our “ unworthy 
 names ” and our “ unworthy ages,” and were too 
 shy to ask, as we might have done, for their “ honour- 
 able ” ages in exchange. We had tried to explain 
 why we had no husbands, a matter exceedingly diffi- 
 cult for the Chinese to understand. In my case it 
 was simple enough. They expressed sympathy ; but 
 why Deborah was not married — that indeed was 
 puzzling in the extreme. I puzzled them still more, 
 however, a moment later by reverting to one of my 
 lesson-book sentences. 
 
 “ Middle Kingdom talk, understand get arrive, 
 understand not arrive ? ” 
 
 They stared in amazement. 
 
 “ You are asking them if they understand Chinese,” 
 Deborah whispered. 
 
 Alas ! I had meant to ask them if they understood 
 English. 
 
 Fortunately, at this moment tea was brought in 
 and handed round, with pastry cakes stuffed with 
 squashed prunes. Glad of an occupation I drank a 
 
 36 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 good deal of tea, but, alas ! my cup, like the widow’s 
 cruse, was as full at the end as it was at the beginning. 
 Every time I took a prolonged sip the serving woman 
 approached with a kettle and made good the de- 
 ficiency, and I finally severed my connection with the 
 cup by smuggling it on to the top of a neighbouring 
 cupboard when my hostess was not looking. 
 
 Just then a sad little procession entered the room. 
 The young widow, quite a girl, with soft brown eyes 
 and a pale oval face, garbed from head to foot in white 
 sackcloth, followed by two baby boys of three and 
 five years of age, also in sackcloth, came up and knelt 
 before each one of us in turn, this attitude of humility 
 being apparently the correct thing under the circum- 
 stances. The two little boys are now the centre of all 
 their hopes. In a Confucianist family only the male 
 members of the house can carry on the religious rites 
 before the ancestral tablet. 
 
 Dreary indeed would have been the outlook in life 
 for the little widow if her children had chanced to be 
 girls instead of boys. Even so it is sad enough, with no 
 sure and certain hope of anything either in this world 
 or the world to come, only nameless fears and haunt- 
 ing terrors of evil spirits and offended demons, and a 
 revengeful dragon whose movements are mysterious, 
 and whose power is limitless. 
 
 For a hundred days she must mourn in white sack- 
 cloth, humbled and heavy-hearted, but during those 
 hundred days there are many things that may be 
 done. The “ seven animal spirits ” which have gone 
 
 37 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 down ten or twelve feet into the earth will be return- 
 ing some time between the seventh and the fourteenth 
 day after the date on which death took place. The 
 priests will know when to expect them, and food for 
 the occasion will have to be prepared. As to the 
 voracious Yamen runners, who will accompany them 
 from the nether world, they must be kept busy. So 
 for them eggs in a jar and pairs of chop-sticks are 
 provided. It will take them some while to get at the 
 eggs with only the help of the chop-sticks. Meanwhile 
 the “ soul ” will have time to worship the “ spirit 
 tablet ” of his ancestors, and possibly also the “ kitchen 
 god.” * 
 
 The priests, if well paid, will be able to do a good 
 deal in one way and another. Finally there is the 
 money to be thought of — plenty of gold and silver 
 must be coined for the use of the dead man in the other 
 world. 
 
 Later on, when some of the ladies of the house took 
 us round to show us the great guest-halls and various 
 courtyards and pavilions, we came to a long, low 
 building, through the open windows of which we 
 could see a number of men in white sackcloth work- 
 ing diligently. They had been working all day, and 
 would be working for many days to come making 
 tin-foil money for the dead son of the house. 
 
 On the opposite side of the courtyard a pathetic 
 suite of rooms was shown us with especial pride as 
 having belonged exclusively to the dead man, and been 
 * Chinese Superstitions , by J. Vale. 
 
 38 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 furnished by him in “ foreign ” style. The chairs 
 and tables, most of them made in China after English 
 models, were crowded and huddled together like 
 things in a furniture shop. 
 
 This great house through which we were wander- 
 ing was built in one-storied buildings round tiny 
 paved courtyards. From one court to another we 
 followed our guides, the little knobs of their poor 
 bound feet in the white shoes twisted over painfully, 
 as though too small and weak to bear the weight of 
 the body. We were taken into a great guest-hall, 
 built like a temple, with a carved wooden reredos on 
 the wall, the framework of ancestral tablets, and chairs 
 and tables of black lacquer, inlaid heavily with mother- 
 of-pearl. The walls were decorated with an orna- 
 mental trellis-work and bright green enamel. 
 
 Now and then the paved courts changed of a 
 sudden into gardens, queer, formal little gardens, 
 in which palms in pots stood under a solitary 
 tree, and pink begonias, blue and white asters, 
 and sweet-scented white crocuses clustered in tiny 
 beds surrounded by paving-stones. Our companions 
 gathered a nosegay of flowers, and apportioned them 
 out in exactly even quantities to the three of us, one 
 crocus to each. The crocuses were evidently thought 
 a great deal of, and the scent of them was certainly 
 very fragrant. 
 
 By this time shyness had worn off, and our new 
 friends took courage to do that which I am sure they 
 had been longing for all the afternoon, namely, to 
 
 39 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 inspect some of the small trinkets we were wearing 
 and examine our hats and gloves. The gloves were 
 especial objects of interest. They do not wear 
 any themselves, of course, and probably think the 
 custom a strangely barbaric one, though they were 
 far too polite to say so. On the contrary, the burden 
 of their remarks was “ Hao Kan ! Hao Kan ! ” (Good 
 to look upon) ; and I — if I had known how to say it — 
 should have answered disparagingly, acknowledging 
 the contemptible inferiority of my possessions and 
 extolling the surpassing beauty of their own. 
 
 Finally we were escorted back to the melancholy 
 coffin chamber to bid farewell to our hostess. The 
 family gathered round us, bowing and smiling. 
 There were so many of them, and they all looked so 
 much alike, that I found myself considerably puzzled 
 as to who was who, and was told afterwards that I 
 had smiled especially sweetly to one of the serving 
 women ; but this did not matter as, fortunately, I 
 had not “ raised my hands ” to her. At each corner 
 on our way out through the courtyards we turned once 
 again to give another bow, always finding that our 
 hostesses had followed in our footsteps, till finally they 
 came as far as the outer gates, and we were backing 
 down the street, still bowing. We should hardly 
 have done more, if as much, had we been in the pre- 
 sence of royalty. 
 
 Our visit has evidently been a success. Another 
 invitation has come for us to go again in a few days’ 
 time, to hear the Buddhist priests chanting over the 
 
 40 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 coffin. One wonders how long the coffin will remain 
 above ground. 
 
 In a still grander mansion near by, belonging to an 
 official family, the head of the house — a General 
 something — died a few years ago. He was thought so 
 much of that the Emperor had him canonised as a 
 saint after his death, and presented the memorial 
 chapel which has been built here in his honour with 
 magnificently embroidered silk umbrellas. The royal 
 gift also included a hoe and a spade with red handles 
 for the digging of the grave. But the grave was not 
 dug for two whole years. They waited until the baby 
 heir should be old enough to perform the ancestral 
 rites. Meanwhile the coffin was kept in the General’s 
 house, and though some said it was not objectionable, 
 others said it was. Probably the matter depended on 
 the way of the wind. 
 
 The other day we found ourselves by accident at a 
 funeral feast, but we did not stay. In one of the 
 narrow, cobble-paved streets, under a temporary erec- 
 tion of straw matting, men in dingy white sackcloth 
 were droning out melancholy “ bagpipe ” sounds 
 from unmusical instruments and drumming gaily on 
 monster drums. An interested crowd had gathered 
 round, and people were swarming in and out of the 
 open doors of the house like bees in and out of a hive. 
 Our escort, a Chinese professor, made signs to us to 
 enter. 
 
 Stepping in through a dark passage, we found 
 ourselves in a courtyard, which had been turned into 
 
 4i 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 a kind of temporary kitchen. Everywhere there were 
 cook-pots. Pink morsels of flesh and fish, floating 
 in large basins of greasy water, and vegetables, cut 
 and minced together in messy heaps. Numbers of 
 cooks were hard at work, the smell of burnt oil and 
 squashed ladybirds permeated the air. 
 
 Threading our way through their midst, we stepped 
 through a dark ante-chamber into a dimly-lit inner 
 room, the crowd pressing on behind us. The centre 
 of the floor was occupied by a temporary altar, on 
 which a feast of choice dainties in Lilliputian dishes 
 was spread out in front of a glass case occupied by a 
 slip of paper bearing the name of the dead man. 
 Sitting on seats planted against the walls were the 
 ghostly figures of the mourners, swathed in white 
 sackcloth, silent and motionless, and on the floor on 
 either side of the “ altar ” the dead man’s two sons 
 were kneeling solemnly. A group of small, grimy 
 boys — only hired mourners these — in dirty, tattered 
 garments of white sackcloth and long pheasants’ 
 feathers in their unwashed hands, gazed at us in 
 curiosity. We could go through if we wished ; the 
 coffin with the dead man was in the next room, the 
 doors of which were open, but we desisted. From 
 our point of view, our intrusion as perfect strangers 
 into the house of death seemed an unpardonable 
 liberty. Evidently, in the Chinese professor’s eyes 
 it was nothing of the kind. 
 
 You will wonder how we came to be out with a 
 Chinese professor. In inland China such a thing 
 
 42 
 
A GIKLS’ SCHOOL AT TENGCHEO-l-U 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 would be the height of impropriety. In inland China, 
 so I am told, even husbands and wives are not often 
 seen together in public, but here at Teng-Cheo-Fu 
 foreigners have lived for forty years or so, and the 
 people have grown accustomed to their eccentric 
 ways. Our learned companion was merely one of the 
 teachers from the girls’ school where we are staying. 
 
 Did I tell you, by the way, that our hostess is the 
 principal of a large American Presbyterian school 
 for girls ? The pupils, in order to graduate in the 
 approved American style, must go through a nine 
 years’ course. Besides Chinese classics they study 
 Western subjects (in their own language) — algebra, 
 geometry, history, and physiology, and so forth — 
 and some develop eventually into teachers themselves. 
 
 A very different kind of school this to one in an 
 inland province that was described to us the other 
 day. The principal, a Chinese lady of rank, having 
 received a good education herself, had started a school 
 on her own account. Her pupils were any age from 
 eight to forty, and many of them wives of high 
 officials. Eager to display her knowledge of Western 
 customs, she — the principal — dressed herself “ a l’an- 
 glaise ” in a purple, sack-like tunic, belted in at the 
 waist (a foreigner must always have a waist, just as 
 we think a Chinese must always have a “ queue ”), a 
 shiny black sailor hat lined with flannelette and 
 trimmed with real flowers that had withered away, 
 and lastly, brown boots on her poor little misshapen 
 feet. 
 
 43 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 “ And what do you teach them ? ” asked my friend, 
 who was interested in this new species of school. 
 
 “ Oh,” whispered the little lady confidentially, 
 “ they don’t really learn anything, you know, but 
 they like to come, and their husbands like them to 
 come.” 
 
 “ What do they do, then ? ” 
 
 “ They just talk, and play and smoke their 
 water-pipes, and if there is any matter of dispute, 
 their husbands sit in committee and decide the 
 question.” 
 
 “ But what a pity,” said my friend ; “ could you not 
 urge them to make a better use of their time ? ” 
 
 “ Well, there was one,” said the little lady sadly, 
 “ who could have learnt if she had wished to. She 
 had plenty of ability, but when I pressed her to study 
 she complained to her husband that she was being ill- 
 treated, and that was an end of it.” 
 
 There is certainly a pathetic side to this new craze 
 in China for education and Western knowledge in 
 any shape or form. Even the man who advertised 
 that he could “ teach the English language up to the 
 letter G ” probably did not lack for pupils. 
 
 Our Chinese professor made a very useful guide. 
 He even succeeded in getting us through into the 
 sacred precincts of a Confucian temple on a day when, 
 as we afterwards heard, women were especially ex- 
 cluded. We noticed a considerable demur amongst 
 the men at the gates before they consented to let us 
 pass. The crowd gazed after us wonderingly as the 
 
 44 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 gates closed to behind us. After the paved courts 
 and crowded buildings of most of the other temples, 
 the grounds of this one looked delightfully spacious 
 and rural. The great pavilion-like edifice was painted 
 red, the orthodox colour of all Confucian temples, 
 and stood on a slight rise up amongst the trees on the 
 further side of green “ lawns.” A herd of goats 
 grazed placidly out in the sunshine, and a great black 
 bullock stood patiently beneath the trees. 
 
 After some hesitation the doors of the temple 
 were opened to admit us. Alas ! instead of the 
 solemn dignity of the usual Confucian temple — the 
 twilight hall, empty save for dust and cobwebs on 
 the walls, and an altar-like table drawn up before the 
 Confucian tablet — we stood amazed to find ourselves 
 face to face with a huge effigy of the great sage, 
 whose blackened face and hideous, distorted features 
 reminded one of some horrible Taoist idol. And 
 on either side, ranged in long rows down the side 
 wall, were equally hideous though less gigantic 
 effigies of his disciples. What horror he would 
 have felt could he have seen those grotesque images 
 of himself and his followers ; and this apparently 
 was the day on which the autumnal sacrifices were to 
 be offered, one of the great days of the Confucian 
 year. 
 
 Our rural bullock and grazing goats were now 
 pathetic details of the scene. Another hour or two 
 would see them slaughtered beneath the trees, and 
 as the day passed into night the grounds would be 
 
 45 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 crowded by excited throngs of eager men. Officials 
 from the highest to the lowest would be there in state 
 with their escorts, and, after welcoming the spirit of 
 Confucius in their midst, the carcase of the bullock 
 would be offered to him in sacrifice, and the dead 
 goats apportioned one apiece to the disciples. Finally, 
 at the close of the ceremony, the spirit of the sage 
 having been bowed reverently away, the beef and the 
 goats’ flesh would be shared out amongst the officials 
 according to rank and status. And this in the name 
 of the great teacher who condemned sacrifices and all 
 that savoured of idolatry. 
 
 Even our Confucian friends — the poor bereaved 
 family whom I told you of — are only Confucian in 
 theory. 
 
 This afternoon we accepted the invitation to go 
 and hear the Buddhist priests chanting over the 
 coffin. Such a strange scene ! The doors of the 
 coffin chamber had been opened wide, and the little 
 courtyard in front roofed in and gorgeously draped 
 in superb hangings of blue and silver and other colours. 
 At long narrow tables eleven Buddhist priests, “ shaven 
 and shorn,” in loose grey gowns of some coarse material, 
 sat turning over the leaves of great books which lay 
 on the table before them, without, however, appearing 
 to look at the pages. They sang over monotonous 
 words to a monotonous chant while one of their 
 number beat time by tuneless thuds on a gourd- 
 like drum. Some of the words were Indian, wholly 
 unintelligible probably to everybody present, and 
 
 46 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the daughters of the household, who sat by my 
 side, beguiled the time by making a minute inspection 
 of the braiding on my coat and the style of my 
 hatpin, a matter of great interest. 
 
 Between the priests and the coffin a table was laid 
 out for a repast, every delicacy imaginable in a dozen 
 or so dishes, especially prepared, not for the living, 
 but for the dead ! And in an outer courtyard, on a 
 table set before a scroll on which the name and de- 
 scription of the deceased man and his son and heir 
 were inscribed, an oil painting of the “ king of the 
 devils ” stood between two large basins of cooked 
 vegetables, sprinkled with flour and millet. The 
 mistress of the house explained that this food was to 
 be taken out and scattered in the streets for the benefit 
 of the poor wandering beggar spirits in the nether 
 world. She readily admitted that the food would in 
 reality be eaten by the living, probably by the scaven- 
 ger dogs, and not by the dead. 
 
 But that did not matter, she said, the meaning was 
 symbolical, and by scattering the food broadcast in 
 the streets the wandering spirits would receive benefit ; 
 she knew not how, only that this was so ! 
 
 I have heard it said that China lives more for 
 the dead than the living. One is constantly reminded 
 of this. Not far from Chefoo people die of cold in 
 the winter with a wealth of coal under their very 
 houses, because they dare not disturb the ground to 
 get at the coal for fear of disturbing the spirits of 
 the dead. Railways were opposed for the same reason, 
 
 47 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and though the opposition has been overcome to a 
 certain extent, it is a case in many instances of — 
 
 “ He that complies against his will 
 Doth hold the same opinion still,” 
 
 and many are the misfortunes attributed to the 
 foreign barbarians’ “ fire carriages.” No wonder pro- 
 gress is slow. 
 
 As we walked home from the Buddhist ceremony 
 we passed down one of the main thoroughfares of 
 the city, no longer silent grey walls, but a long double 
 line of blurred colour, open-fronted, booth-like shops 
 hung with gay shop signs — red, scarlet, and gold — 
 lanterns and scrolls, and across from side to side a gay 
 triumphal arch (in reality a memorial arch), one blaze 
 of enamelled tiles, blue and green, and gilded carving. 
 The narrow pavement beneath our feet was cleverly 
 contrived of old mill-stones set in pebbles smooth with 
 age. 
 
 A quaint procession passed us — mourners — girded 
 with sackcloth, on their way to a funeral. One thought 
 of the old Biblical days, the places of merchandise, 
 the sellers of purple and fine linen, the vessels of 
 brass and bright iron, the money-changers and those 
 who “ weigh silver in the balance,” Lazarus at the 
 gates of Dives and the traveller riding on his ass, and 
 out in the more open land beyond the market-place 
 the “ threshing floor of Oman the Jebusite,” and the 
 “ lodge in the garden of cucumbers ” (only you must 
 read water-melons instead of cucumbers). They were 
 
 48 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 all there, just as they used to be hundreds of years 
 ago. But changes are making themselves felt even 
 here in this city of 300 b.c. 
 
 We passed out of the old-time streets into the 
 school compound, where the forty Chinese maidens, 
 embryo American graduates, were imbibing Western 
 knowledge with the best will in the world. A young 
 visitor was waiting for us on the verandah. Originally 
 he had served as a cadet in the Chinese Navy, but, 
 refusing to “ worship ” Confucius, he had been obliged 
 to give up his profession, and was now engaged in 
 educational work under the foreigners at Teng-Cheo. 
 He talked excellent English, but our conversation, 
 alas ! was brought to an abrupt close by a messenger 
 rushing in to tell us that our steamer, which we had 
 not expected till to-morrow, was in sight. So my next 
 letter will be from Chefoo. 
 
 In haste, 
 
 Yours, etc. 
 
 £ 
 
 49 
 
Chefoo, 
 
 October io th. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 I have never known such a difficult place to get 
 away from as Teng-Cheo-Fu. We have done it at 
 last, however, and here we are back at Chefoo in a 
 perfect ferment to be off on our journey to Peking, 
 as we are a whole week behind time, and are to meet 
 some friends at Hankow who have promised to escort 
 us up the River Yangtsi to the far west. 
 
 We spent a week trying to catch a steamer, but 
 without success. My own impression is that the 
 servants were at the bottom of this. Mrs. W., who 
 happens to be all alone just now, had pressed us to 
 stay a little longer to keep her company, and the 
 servants, being devoted to their mistress, were deter- 
 mined to hinder our departure by every means in 
 their power. We even kept a man on the city wall 
 who was to bring us word should a steamer anchor 
 in the bay. He certainly brought us word, accord- 
 ing to instructions, but a trifle too late to be of 
 any use. On another occasion we even got our- 
 selves and our luggage in sedan-chairs as far as the 
 gates of the city, when a messenger came running up 
 to say the boat had gone. 
 
 Finally, with some trepidation we made up our 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 minds to do the overland journey by a mule litter. 
 Here, again, the servants blocked the way. It was the 
 time of the wheat harvest, they said, and there was 
 not an animal to be found, they were all out in the 
 fields. 
 
 Mrs. W., however, spoke severely to Hun-Ding- 
 Jing, her right-hand man, whom she had kindly pro- 
 mised to lend us for the journey, and said that, come 
 what might, a mule litter must be found. 
 
 The next morning it was at the door, the queerest- 
 looking conveyance you can well imagine — something 
 like a huge dog-kennel or a Diogenes tub slung on 
 poles between two mules — one mule in front, one 
 behind. The arched roof was of rough straw matting, 
 the floor presumably of wood, but Hun-Ding-Jing 
 had covered it thickly with wadded quilts and cushions, 
 so that, by the time we were ready to start, it bore the 
 appearance of a bed made up in a dog-kennel more 
 than anything else. Our other luggage — and by this 
 time, you will remember, in addition to our boxes we 
 had bedding and crockery and food and lights — was 
 packed away, some on the litter, and some on the 
 back of a mule. Still a second mule was provided 
 for Hun. 
 
 The first ascent into our strange conveyance was 
 easy enough. We crawled in like two huge St. Bernard 
 dogs, and then turned round as best we could and 
 faced out. Thereupon came the critical moment. 
 Every able-bodied man in the vicinity lent a hand. 
 With excited shouts they lifted the now heavily- 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 weighted “ kennel ” between them, and tried to sling 
 the shafts of it deftly into the harness of the two 
 mules. Not a bit of it ! If the mule behind stood 
 still the mule in front moved forward, and vice versa. 
 The shouts and the yelling increased, and the litter 
 seemed in momentary danger of falling with a crash 
 to the ground. Picture the feelings of Deborah and 
 myself cramped up on all fours inside it ! but all of 
 a sudden the thing slipped into position as though by 
 magic, and the mules were safely attached. 
 
 We started off, but it took us some time to find out 
 how to sit. We seemed altogether too large for our 
 abode and got entwined occasionally like snakes in a 
 small cage at the Zoo. We finally discovered that the 
 correct attitude was to squat cross-legged in tailor 
 fashion, or like a couple of demure Buddhas one be- 
 hind the other. We noticed this was the way other 
 people sat in litters which we met on the road. The 
 motion was distinctly jerky. I believe it makes some 
 people seasick, and owing to the jerk it is almost 
 impossible to read or write, or do anything but try 
 to sit still. 
 
 We peered out at the view, but the view was mono- 
 tonous — a beaten track (called by courtesy a road) 
 through miles upon miles of flat country laid out in 
 vegetable fields. They reminded one of gigantic al- 
 lotment gardens, sprinkled now and again by a handful 
 of dwelling-places — low, hut-like buildings, protected 
 by scraggy trees. After something like fifty “ li ” 
 of this (sixteen miles) we drew up suddenly in a 
 
 52 
 
A MULE LITTER 
 Travelling from Teng-Cheo-Fu to Chefoo 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 village street outside an inn. The street and the inn 
 instantly became packed with people. Our litter was 
 lifted down from the backs of the mules, and, crawling 
 out in as dignified a manner as could be assumed 
 under the circumstances, we stretched ourselves and 
 stood upright. Oh ! the relief of it, after sixteen 
 miles curled up in a kennel. 
 
 Hun-Ding-Jing became master of the ceremonies. 
 He invited us into the inn, and led the way, bearing 
 our rugs and cushions in a lordly manner. We 
 followed him through the inn kitchen (inn kitchens 
 in this land of “ contraries ” are generally right at 
 the front instead of right at the back), and, passing 
 through a courtyard crowded with men and animals, 
 and surrounded by the inn bedrooms, we were ushered 
 into the grandest guest-chambers on the further side. 
 They reminded me of large-sized poultry houses, 
 minus the poultry and the perches. Time and smoke 
 had painted the walls a dingy black, cobwebs and 
 spider webs adorned the rafters with their feathery 
 lace. On two brick “ kengs ” in the innermost apart- 
 ment Hun-Ding-Jing spread our rugs, and on the 
 wooden chest — the only other bit of furniture the 
 room possessed — he laid out a paper toilet-cover, 
 washing basins, soap and towels, etc., with the deft 
 touch of a trained housemaid. 
 
 Mrs. W. had kindly provided us with cold chickens 
 and jellies for luncheon, so we were fortunately in- 
 dependent of the savoury dishes of the inn kitchen 
 which we had smelt in passing. 
 
 53 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 A two hours’ rest saw us on the road again. Occa- 
 sionally we sought to vary the monotony of the way 
 by walking a mile or so. Unfortunately, however, it 
 was not at all easy to get in and out of the mule litter. 
 The mules, strangely enough, were always averse to 
 standing still. In any case it was difficult to achieve 
 the descent in a becoming manner ; one had to shunt 
 out backwards, gather one’s skirts together, and drop 
 down on to the road. The litter dipped over like a 
 boat in the water. It was not unlike a boat in some 
 ways. The muleteer every now and then indicated 
 that we were to sit more to the right or more to the 
 left in order to trim it properly. 
 
 The day was waning when we reached our resting- 
 place for the night. Chinese are always loth to travel 
 after dark for fear of the evil spirits that have got 
 loose from the “ infernal regions ” and are roaming 
 about seeking for substitutes to send back to take their 
 place in the nether world. 
 
 We entered the inn courtyard under a big archway, 
 and Hun-Ding-Jing stepped forward and led us to 
 a stable door by the side of the finest and most miry 
 pigsty I have ever seen. One quite wondered that 
 the little pigs did not sink out of sight altogether in 
 the slough of black mud. The door led into the bed- 
 rooms ! the inner one more or less a duplicate of 
 our poultry house, and the outer one partly filled with 
 chicken coops and cattle pens. It boasted, however, a 
 small table, on which Hun laid our repast, and the inn 
 kitchen provided us with tea — very hot and very bitter. 
 
 54 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The yard was thronged with people and with 
 animals — pigs, mules, and chickens. We wandered 
 round it in the twilight, and finally came to a tiny 
 black kitchen, something like a coal-cellar just emptied 
 of coals, in which some Chinese women were at work. 
 A small lamp — a wick floating in a saucer of evil- 
 smelling oil — shed its light on a woman, ladling 
 out buckets of soapy water from a steaming open 
 copper. I asked her if it were “ Kai shui ” (boiling 
 water) ; she replied it was “ food.” The room 
 seemed full of people, most of whom were busily 
 engaged in culinary operations over brick stoves 
 and almost invisible fires. After supper Hun-Ding- 
 Jing made up the beds, and I sprinkled Keating’s 
 powder by way of a precautionary measure. Alas ! 
 it was not of much good. The creatures — especially 
 the musical ones — “ laughed ” at Keating’s powder, 
 and so disturbed my slumber with their merriment 
 that I was still desperately sleepy when a knock came 
 at the stable door and Hun announced the unwelcome 
 fact that the “ day had dawned.” 
 
 We had agreed to start at daybreak, and apparently 
 without our breakfast ; the mules were harnessed, 
 the things packed and all in readiness. Hun had 
 filled a biscuit-tin with eatables, so that we might 
 feed on the way. I realised with sinking heart that 
 this must have been what he was trying to explain 
 last night, when, proud of my progress in the lan- 
 guage, I had answered “ yes.” It was a case of pride 
 before a fall. I knew he was discussing breakfast, 
 
 55 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 but had not arrived at the main drift of his argument, 
 which was that we should eat it on the way in the 
 shape of jam sandwiches. We had still eighty “li” 
 or so to go, so it seemed a pity to wait about for a 
 breakfast which, after all, might not be forthcoming. 
 As to the muleteers, they had not even the sandwiches 
 with which to fortify themselves for a walk of twenty- 
 six miles, but swallowed a cake the size of a penny bun, 
 and that seemed all-sufficient. 
 
 We had a weary march before us, over a long stretch 
 of desert sand in a valley of desolation by the sea. 
 At last we came to a broad river, on which a ferry-boat 
 was plying. The muleteer divested himself of most 
 of his clothes and let down the blue curtain in front 
 of the dog-kennel. He plunged in knee-deep, and 
 deeper still into the river, the mules wading in be- 
 side him. The water swept past with a strong current 
 and splashed up against the sides of the litter. If the 
 mules started swimming, it would soon be flooded — and 
 what then ? I pictured the ferry-boat coming to the 
 rescue ; but, peeping out under the curtain, we saw 
 that the worst was over, and ere long were plodding 
 through the sand on the opposite shore, and soon found 
 ourselves back on cultivated ground. There were fewer 
 vegetables and more trees, and the houses increased 
 rapidly as we neared the outskirts of Chefoo. Between 
 one and two o’clock we arrived in the foreign settle- 
 ment, having done the twenty-six miles without a stop 
 of any kind, and the total cost of the journey, as I am 
 sure it will interest you, was about thirteen shillings, 
 
 56 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 for one litter and four mules and two men, and an 
 inn for the night for three people, and two days’ food 
 for the invaluable Hun-Ding-Jing. 
 
 A very little money certainly goes a very long way 
 in China. And this reminds me of my “ sun-bride.” 
 I don’t think I told you that I had acquired a protegee 
 at Teng-Cheo-Fu in the shape of a “ sun-bride.” 
 That, apparently, is the name given (in this part of 
 China) to a girl who has been brought up in the house 
 of her prospective mother-in-law with a view to be- 
 coming the wife of the son of the house when he shall 
 arrive at a marriageable age. This is one of the least 
 expensive ways of getting a wife. A very small sum 
 is probably paid to the girl’s own people when, as a 
 child, she becomes a member of her future husband’s 
 family. If she happens to be a capable girl, they usually 
 get a good deal of work out of her in one way or 
 another. 
 
 “ Glory Flower,” my protegee, is a particularly 
 capable girl, about twenty-one years of age according 
 to Chinese reckoning ; that means about twenty 
 according to our reckoning, as the Chinese count one’s 
 age from New Year’s Day. If a child, therefore, is 
 born on New Year’s Eve it enters its second year on 
 the second morning of its life. 
 
 But poor “ Glory Flower ” has fallen on evil days. 
 In course of time the bridegroom that was to be, did 
 what so many young Chinese in the north are doing at 
 the present time : he went off to Manchuria, tempted 
 by higher wages, and has chosen, so report goes, 
 
 57 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 another wife. His “ sun-bride ” was no longer wanted. 
 Her own people were dead ; the home of her adoption 
 wished to be rid of the burden of her ; her only rela- 
 tive, a grandmother, refused to take her back unless 
 she would consent to worship idols again and give up 
 the Christian school. Another four years there would 
 enable her to graduate as a teacher. The Mission was 
 ready to pay a certain amount towards the schooling ; 
 a very few dollars were needed to make up the sum 
 required, and once again, as I said before, a very little 
 money goes a very long way in China, and “ Glory 
 Flower ” was embarrassingly grateful. 
 
 To-morrow we start for Peking, and thence to 
 Hankow and on to the far western province of 
 Szechuan. It will be months before we are back on 
 the coast. If you do not hear of us any more you will 
 realise that something has happened — not that there 
 is any reason why anything should happen, though 
 pessimists say that China just now is in a very restless 
 state. In one part of the country they are rebelling 
 against the new opium taxes ; in another they are 
 resenting the educational changes, which have re- 
 sulted in some cases in the disappearance of the 
 old schools and the non-appearance of the new, 
 because, forsooth, the officials have pocketed the 
 money. 
 
 Moreover, last August a comet appeared on the 
 scene. For two nights it was plainly visible, so, at 
 least, I am told, and a comet in China is looked upon 
 as an evil omen. The Dowager-Empress wished to 
 
 58 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 send out soldiers to have it punished ! but Prince 
 Ching advised her to let the matter pass, as in the 
 present state of the country the sight of the troops 
 firing guns might create a disturbance. 
 
 I will write from Peking, so no more for the present. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 VERONICA. 
 
 59 
 
Peking, 
 
 October 18 th, 1907. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 Here we are in what is probably the most 
 interesting city of China. We travelled by steamer 
 as far as Tientsin, about thirty hours all told, including 
 two on the bar of the river waiting for the tide, and 
 six more through the dreariest country you can well 
 imagine — up a brown river, winding in and out in 
 serpentine coils between flat brown banks, accentuated 
 now and again by mud forts and mud hovels, and an 
 elongated town built entirely of mud ; the khaki- 
 coloured houses of which were low and lumpy and 
 looked like a kind of eruption on the face of the mud 
 shore. 
 
 I mistook this place at first for Tientsin. I realise 
 now what a mistake I made. Tientsin — the foreignised 
 Tientsin — has been practically rebuilt since the reign 
 of terror in 1900. It is still raw and red, and hope- 
 lessly new and unfinished. The “ Veneerings ” are 
 there in force, people who made their fortunes in 
 1900, and money is spent lavishly in bricks and mortar. 
 Numbers of imposing “ European ” buildings push 
 their way into the best streets, and there are still some 
 “ eligible building ” sites. Commercially speaking, 
 
 60 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the place is growing in importance, but ugh ! how 
 glad I was to get away from it. 
 
 We travelled by train from Tientsin to Peking, 
 starting off early — too early , so they told us at the 
 station, to get the luggage labelled ! People with 
 servants (we hadn’t one) very often send their boxes 
 third class with servants to keep guard over them, 
 instead of in the luggage van. The third class looked 
 like an open cattle truck and must have been 
 desperately uncomfortable. At the end of our 
 compartment — we travelled second — culinary opera- 
 tions were going on at an oil stove. Our fellow- 
 passengers, however, judging by their handsome silk 
 and satin gowns, seemed to belong to the well- 
 to-do classes, and were mostly men. Some few were 
 officers in Western uniforms of bright blue face 
 cloth and cheese-cutter German caps, under which 
 their long pigtails looked slightly “ de trop.” 
 
 We arrived at Peking, as it happened, on a “ lucky ” 
 day. Why lucky I don’t know, but all the brides and 
 bridegrooms of the city seemed to be taking advantage 
 of the occasion. I am told that it is a significant 
 fact that lucky days generally come in the autumn, 
 when people have more time for them. The streets 
 every now and again were crowded with wedding 
 processions. Picture two long lines of strangely 
 garbed figures in long green coats, flapping in 
 the wind, walking in single file, and bearing 
 tall red poles, from the top of which red and 
 white lanterns hung tremblingly. There was no 
 
 61 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 smartness about the lantern bearers. They were 
 shambling, shabby, despondent-looking creatures, and 
 reminded one of London sandwich-men. Behind 
 them came the musicians in an untidy crowd, thump- 
 ing away on brightly gilded drums and blowing on 
 trumpet-like instruments, which emitted a deep bass 
 wail as the procession came down the road — a most 
 mournful sound, but probably in harmony with the 
 feelings of the bride in her red sedan-chair as she was 
 borne along to her future home. She was doubtless 
 quaking with fear, and half asphyxiated. I heard of 
 one once who, when at last the moment came to open 
 the closely fitting doors and hangings of the chair, 
 was found to be dead of suffocation ! 
 
 Although a wedding in China is called a “ Hsi s'f ” 
 — a matter of rejoicing — it is very often anything but 
 that from the bride’s point of view. She has been 
 practically purchased by a man whom she has prob- 
 ably never set eyes on. It may be that even he has 
 had no choice in the matter. The affair has been 
 arranged for him by his relatives, and above all by 
 the fortune-teller. Should the fortune-teller have 
 discovered that the “ Pah tsl ” (the eight characters) 
 representing the year, month, day, and hour of birth 
 of the future bride and bridegroom clashed in any 
 way, or harmonised too well, the marriage would in- 
 stantly have been decided as impossible. All being 
 considered propitious, however, the fortune-teller 
 chooses a “ lucky day,” and the bridegroom, in 
 addition to the money paid to the parents, sends 
 
 62 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in the bride’s trousseau and a complete set of 
 ornaments ! 
 
 A horrible custom is still kept up in some places, 
 which ordains that for the first three days after her 
 marriage the poor little bride must sit in a room 
 the cynosure of all eyes. Everyone who comes in 
 makes remarks, either pleasant or unpleasant, and 
 though they may criticise as freely as they please, 
 etiquette forbids her either to smile or scowl, 
 much less to answer. The poor girl usually looks 
 her worst rather than her best, as her front hair, 
 worn before marriage in a heavy, straight fringe across 
 her forehead, has been plucked out by the roots on 
 the eve of her wedding. 
 
 But to return to the streets of Peking. How I wish 
 you could see them in all their picturesqueness. But 
 if you want to do that you will have to make haste, for 
 here, as elsewhere, new things are crowding out the 
 old. The gorgeousness of the scene is beyond descrip- 
 tion. There are the shops hung with red lanterns and 
 gilded scrolls, and the upper story, if there is one, 
 ornamented with an open trellis-work, reminiscent 
 of the sides of a green-and-gilt bird-cage ; the street 
 pedlar in his blue gown, squatting by his magic 
 carpet spread with wares ; a fruit-stall ablaze with 
 shining golden persimmons, scarlet pomegranates, and 
 crimson chillies ; the ever-moving crowd of men 
 in gowns of blue and purple, mauve or grey ; the 
 Manchu women in long, graceful robes of rich 
 dark shades of silk, and wearing the Manchu head- 
 
 63 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 dress of spreading black wings and bright artificial 
 flowers. 
 
 The broad highway is thronged with a strange 
 medley of creatures and vehicles, from the familiar 
 rickshaws to the Pekingese cart, which resembles 
 a great box on big wheels, covered by a hood of 
 brilliant cornflower blue. In wet weather there is 
 a blue awning as well as the hood, but the hood covers 
 the cart, and the awning covers the mule. Then 
 there are the donkeys — magnificent creatures — some 
 of them jet black, and arrayed in velvet saddles and 
 rich trappings ; and the fleet-footed, long-tailed 
 Mongolian ponies — ridden furiously. Sometimes one 
 of these, with a rider in long, flowing robes wearing 
 an official hat, dashes by at breakneck speed. This 
 is a messenger from the palace bearing important 
 despatches. A European motor-car snorts impatiently 
 whilst a bullock wagon stops the way, and, solemn 
 and unperturbed in the midst of confusion, long 
 strings of supercilious camels step by haughtily on 
 their “ indiarubber ” feet, looking neither to the 
 right nor to the left, taking no interest apparently 
 in the affairs of this world, and on their way to 
 the next. 
 
 The strangest touch of all is the sudden appearance 
 of a monstrous traction engine from Western lands, 
 which reminds one of Gulliver among the Lilliputians, 
 and lumbers down noisily into the tangled crowd. 
 At the corner a man is watering the street, ladling the 
 water with a large wooden soup-ladle out of a big tub 
 
 64 
 
ENTRANCE TO BRITISH LEGATION, PEKING 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and shedding its contents upon the road — a spoonful 
 at a time ! 
 
 Some of the roads in the Tartar city are of immense 
 width. They remind one of the aisles in a great 
 cathedral, a wide centre aisle and two side aisles, 
 divided possibly by a bit of rough ground or a deep 
 ditch and a line of booths. Occasionally a memorial 
 arch spans the centre. There is a magnificent white 
 one, elaborately carved, put up in memory of the 
 German Ambassador assassinated in 1900. The 
 Chinese believe, and always will believe, that it was 
 erected in honour of the assassin. 
 
 In the Chinese city the streets are narrow, the 
 houses squeezed together, and the colouring more 
 gorgeous than ever. I went there to try and match 
 some silk and had a most amusing time. The streets 
 are mere passage-ways festooned with gay-coloured 
 scrolls, banners, and shop signs and the shops 
 themselves are literally ablaze with gilded woodwork. 
 Queer little shops they are, too, reminding me of 
 the toy shops of my childhood, with their open fronts, 
 green counters, and neat little rows of drawers and 
 shelves at the back of the little green counter, and 
 a neat little blue calico figure squatting on the ground 
 in front, or mounted stiffly on a chair with a long pipe 
 in his hand. 
 
 The silk shops, of which there are many, are usually 
 shops in which little or nothing is displayed for the 
 benefit of the passer-by. Behind a long counter 
 a host of young men in the inevitable blue cotton 
 f 65 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 gowns stand about with no particular interest in 
 customers either present or future. On the shelves 
 at the back there may be, and probably are, rolls upon 
 rolls of choice silk all carefully concealed in paper. 
 It requires patience and a good deal of careful ex- 
 planation before anyone can be sufficiently interested 
 to take the trouble to show you anything worth look- 
 ing at. It may be that in this courteous land the 
 request has been unconsciously couched in terms 
 which to a Chinese mind are lacking in politeness, but 
 the fact remains that the answer is often a negative 
 one when very possibly the thing you wish for is there 
 all the time wrapped up in paper in the background. 
 
 The Chinese City lies outside the Tartar City, and 
 inside the Tartar City crouches the Forbidden City, 
 the habitation of mystery and power shut away 
 behind its walls — walls the “ colour of blood that has 
 dried ” — and invisible to those who stand without, 
 forbidden to all save the very few, yet dominating 
 the whole city with its power and casting over all the 
 shadow of dark tragedies of which the half will never 
 be told. 
 
 Pierre Loti has described the city from within. 
 He was with the allied troops in 1900 ; the Dowager- 
 Empress and the young Emperor had fled, the Im- 
 perial city was abandoned, and Pierre Loti took up 
 his abode for a time in one of the deserted palaces. 
 He describes the ancient temples half hidden in the 
 great woods of sombre cypress trees and cedars, 
 and the fantastic palaces with their glittering gilded 
 
 66 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 tiles, the famous lotus lake, once covered with rose- 
 pink flowers, the bridge of marble, “ white and 
 solitary.” 
 
 Suddenly, in the midst of the woods, he comes across 
 a prison-like fortress with double ramparts “ d’un 
 rouge de sang ” and a moat ninety feet wide filled 
 with dead and dying rushes. And this is the “ Ville 
 Violette,” where the young Emperor, the “ Son of 
 Heaven ” (but practically a prisoner in his own palace), 
 has lived through his dreary days. 
 
 Pierre Loti draws a melancholy picture of the 
 Emperor’s room — the dim light, the closely sealed 
 windows of rice paper, the alcove bed with its cur- 
 tains of dusky blue, “ colour of the night,” the absence 
 of seats, of books, of everything save dust and a few 
 coffers of black wood, on which ornaments under 
 glass globes are “ standing pensively.” The air is 
 full of the “ scent of tea leaves and dried flowers 
 and old silk ” — “ a colossal tomb,” he calls the place. 
 
 Deborah and I walking outside the “ blood-red ” 
 walls caught sight from afar off of one of the palace 
 roofs, with its glittering yellow tiles, and would fain 
 have peered in through the great gates to see what we 
 could see, but while still some twenty yards away, an 
 armed soldier stepped forth and waved us imperiously 
 aside. 
 
 This morning we came on one of those melancholy 
 scenes which recalled again the shadow of the city of 
 mystery. 
 
 The traffic was blocked as we rode down one of the 
 
 67 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 principal streets in our rickshaws by a mournful pro- 
 cession of Pekingese carts guarded by a body of soldiers 
 with unsheathed swords. How many carts there were 
 I know not, but there seemed a great number, and 
 each cart was full — crowded with men in chains, on 
 their way to the execution ground to be beheaded. 
 Some few of them, strange to say, looked out with 
 interest at the “ foreign barbarians.” Behind the 
 carts one poor unfortunate, already tortured almost 
 out of existence, was being carried in a basket ! A 
 melancholy troop ! especially when one realised that 
 very possibly quite half of the unhappy victims were 
 wholly guiltless of crime. One marvelled, though, 
 at the apparent callousness in the face of death of 
 those who craned their necks to see us pass by. It is 
 said they are often drugged with opium or stupefied 
 with wine before the actual execution takes place. 
 
 There is less cruelty now than there used to be 
 in the time of Abbe Hue, who describes seeing some 
 prisoners on their way to judgment — the constables, 
 having forgotten the fetters, nailed the prisoners’ 
 hands to the cart ! 
 
 Punishments also have been modified somewhat of 
 late. The most terrible of all deaths — the death of 
 the hundred cuts — has been abolished. Those who 
 in former days would have suffered the extreme 
 penalty of the law are now beheaded, those who 
 would have been beheaded are strangled, and those 
 who would have been strangled are condemned to 
 banishment. A Chinese would far rather be strangled 
 
 68 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 than beheaded. He is haunted by a dread of appear- 
 ing in the next world in a headless condition. It is 
 the one thing he fears. Therefore his relatives, for 
 their own sakes as well as for that of the dead man, 
 follow him to the execution ground, and, when the 
 authorities permit, sew the severed head back on to 
 the body ! 
 
 We were on our way from the “ Temple of Heaven ” 
 when we met this procession of death. I suppose no 
 one goes to Peking without visiting the “Temple of 
 Heaven,” and though I know you don’t feel a bit 
 interested in temples, I insist on telling you about 
 this one. It is absolutely unique — there is nothing 
 like it anywhere. It ought to be numbered amongst 
 the wonders of the world, it is certainly one of the 
 wonders of China. To get to it from the Tartar 
 City we had a long drive before us, through the Chien- 
 Men, one of the finest of all the gates, past the great 
 wall on which, by the way, six coaches or more could 
 drive abreast, out into the Chinese City, and away 
 through the crowded streets, till we found ourselves 
 riding along a broad yellow sanded road — the road 
 along which the “ Son of Heaven ” travels on those 
 three days during the year (summer and winter 
 solstice and the beginning of spring) when custom 
 ordains that he shall intercede for the sins of his 
 people at the “ Altar of Heaven.” When the Em- 
 peror passes, it is as it was in Coventry when Lady 
 Godiva rode through the streets, and all “ must 
 keep within, door shut and window barred.” 
 
 69 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 On either side of us great wooded parks slumbered 
 behind high walls. The Imperial road, with its Im- 
 perial yellow sand, seemed never-ending. Suddenly, 
 however, the long line of straight wall was broken 
 by a temple gateway. Passing through, we drove 
 up a grass-grown roadway under the trees, through 
 the silent park. There were other gates to pass — 
 gates innumerable, but at the next gate we had to 
 dismount from our rickshaws and go the rest of the 
 way on foot. A gang of Chinese gate-keepers barred 
 the entrance, demanding money. Fortunately, our 
 companion could argue the matter in Pekingese. 
 After a stormy scene and the payment of an infini- 
 tesimal sum she contrived to get the doors unlocked. 
 
 We were all expectant. Now at last we should 
 see those “ acres of polished marble ” of which we 
 had heard so much — but not a bit of it. Before us, 
 raised on a flight of marble steps, stood a circular 
 temple, one blaze of enamelled tiles of every colour 
 of the rainbow, and this apparently was the “ Hall 
 of Fasting,” where the “ Son of Heaven ” prays 
 and meditates before going up to the great altar to 
 worship. The interior of this radiant building was 
 simplicity itself — just the Emperor’s seat, an ex- 
 quisitely carved screen, an ebony “ tea-table,” and 
 nothing more. 
 
 We passed out again and back into the shadowy 
 cypress woods and the pine-scented atmosphere and 
 the almost death-like stillness. We walked on and 
 on, a couple of silent Chinese leading the way. We 
 
 70 
 
From a Photograph by E. Murray. 
 
 TEMPLE OF HEAVEN, PEKING 
 
 Page 70 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 had gone some distance, when suddenly there burst 
 into view one of the now familiar “ blood-red ” 
 walls, edged along the top by dazzling porcelain tiles 
 of blue and green and yellow, but chiefly blue. The 
 shabby door under an arched gateway opened at our 
 approach, and we passed through into the “ Holy of 
 Holies.” “ The sun in his course looks on nothing 
 built with hands so sublime in its suggestions as the 
 ‘ Ara Cceli ’ of Peking.” That is what a great au- 
 thority on things Chinese has said. 
 
 How shall I describe it to you ? It is immense ! 
 two hundred and ten feet wide at the base, ninety 
 feet at the top, and it stands in solitary magnificence, 
 with nothing above but the sky, and nothing around 
 but the grass — a great altar of polished marble, 
 white as the winter snow, rising tier above tier in 
 circular terraces, with beautifully carved balustrades. 
 We climbed up the marble steps and stood on the 
 topmost terrace, a wide open space, in the centre of 
 which a single round stone marks the spot where the 
 Emperor kneels before “ Shang-Ti,” the one supreme 
 God. 
 
 But even as the present form of worship is a cor- 
 ruption of the old, so grass and weeds and sapling 
 trees have pushed their way through the marble 
 slabs of the altar and the crevices of the marble 
 steps, and moss and lichen cling to the sculptured 
 balustrades. 
 
 Dr. Martin speaks of the ritual as “ the most ancient 
 now observed on the face of the earth,” with a 
 
 7i 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 “ record behind it of forty centuries.” The cere- 
 mony in these days is somewhat an elaborate one, 
 whatever it may have been in days gone by. On the 
 great braziers at the foot of the altar, not only 
 are animals sacrificed, as in old Jewish times, but 
 masses of rich brocade are offered up, and a beautiful 
 piece of blue jade (symbolic of heaven) is cast into 
 the fire ! And before the various tablets of deceased 
 Emperors and astral bodies lights and incense are 
 burnt and delectable foods are placed. 
 
 Strangely at variance are these crude rites with the 
 simple grandeur and reverent atmosphere of the sur- 
 roundings. From the sacred precincts we passed on 
 into still another walled enclosure, to visit the “ Pagoda 
 Temple,” on a triple platform of white marble, where 
 the tablets of deceased Emperors are kept. The 
 outside of the temple shines with glittering blue 
 tiles (symbolic again of heaven), and the inside 
 is exquisitely lacquered in gold and scarlet. It is 
 absolutely empty save for the tablets in carved 
 wooden frames around the walls. These, by the 
 way, are only copies of the real tablets, which are 
 preserved in sacred seclusion in a closed building at 
 the back. 
 
 We retraced our steps through the silent cypress 
 woods, and the last of the many gates clanged to 
 behind us. Sixteen times over we had been obliged 
 to produce money in order to get through. Thanks 
 to our Chinese-speaking companion, however, ten- 
 cent pieces had answered the purpose of dollars. 
 
 72 
 
From a Photograph by Murray . 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The “ Lama Temple ” was a great “ come down ” 
 after the “ White Altar.” That, too, is an Imperial 
 temple, and its buildings are roofed with Imperial 
 yellow tiles. They are said to shine like gold in the 
 sunlight, but they reminded me more of yellow- 
 ochre slabs. The great buildings round the paved 
 courtyards were shabby with the wear and tear of 
 five hundred years, and the red paint (composed 
 partly of pig’s blood) was peeling off the woodwork. 
 The Lama priests kept cropping up behind corners, 
 dogging our footsteps, barring the way, and whining 
 for money ; they made one think of a growth of some 
 horrible fungi ; their degraded, low-type faces, their 
 diseased appearance and dirty apparel were repulsive. 
 
 Dust and dirt met us at every turn, especially 
 amongst the valuable old cloisonne vases and the 
 grotesque idols with blackened faces which loomed 
 forth from shadowy backgrounds. The pride of the 
 “ Lama Temple ” is a giant image of Buddha of gilded 
 wood seventy feet high. A staircase leads to a gallery 
 at the back of its head ; but we were warned not to 
 go up it, as the Lama priests have an unpleasant little 
 way of locking the door behind one, in order to extort 
 money. 
 
 We were just beating our retreat when a low, 
 prolonged boom from an invisible horn announced 
 the approach of the chief Lama, in other words, the 
 “ Living Buddha.” Our persecutors, the whining 
 priests, ducked down behind walls and corners to 
 make themselves as invisible as possible, but the 
 
 73 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 “ Living Buddha,” a man of medium height, with a 
 small, dark face, and tired, careworn expression, 
 passed on, turning neither to the right nor to the left. 
 He wore a dingy, claret-coloured robe, wound in 
 loose folds around him, and the strange Lama hat 
 made of tufts of yellow wool and shaped like a gigantic 
 coxcomb. The two secondary Lamas who followed 
 in his steps a minute or two later were more worldly 
 than their chief. They made no secret of their 
 interest in the “foreign barbarians,” and looked us 
 up and down. 
 
 After a while the embryo Lamas made their ap- 
 pearance — boys of all ages in mustard-yellow gowns 
 of every shade of colour and in every stage of wear — 
 from those that were almost brand new to those in 
 tatters — and, of course, the inevitable coxcomb hat. 
 The boys came through the court in an untidy 
 crowd, and lined up outside the temple into which 
 the “ Living Buddha ” had disappeared. 
 
 Through the open doors we could catch a glimpse 
 of the secondary Lamas in ornate ecclesiastical vest- 
 ments passing and re-passing, engaged in some elaborate 
 ritual to the sound of monotonous chanting. After 
 a while the pupils entered and joined in. Poor little 
 “ Lama ” boys — for ever dedicated to a life which 
 had turned out creatures of the type of the “ fungi.” 
 In Mongolia, so they tell me, every family is called 
 upon to give up one of its sons to the Church — hence 
 there is a continual supply of recruits. 
 
 You were wondering in your letter where we should 
 
 74 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 go in Peking, as the only possible hotel is so expensive. 
 At the last moment it turned out that Kay had friends 
 here, to whom she gave us an introduction, and we are 
 now staying with them in a beautiful old Chinese 
 house. I expect the Chinese call it a “ palace,” but 
 here, as elsewhere, the dark days of 1900 have left 
 their traces. This stately mansion represents “ in- 
 demnity,” and was given over by the authorities 
 to take the place of a great building for the blind, 
 which was razed to the ground by the Boxer troops. 
 And the “ blind,” what happened to them ? All 
 except two, who escaped as beggars to Manchuria, 
 were massacred cruelly and without mercy by their 
 own countrymen ! The two who escaped have re- 
 turned, and are helping in the training of the new 
 pupils in the new institution. 
 
 The founder of the old institution and inventor of 
 the first (and some think the best) system by which 
 the Chinese blind are taught, toils on patiently as 
 ever, devoting his marvellous talents to the work 
 to which he has given the best years of his life, but 
 the tragedy of 1900 has left its indelible mark. 
 
 The house is of one-storied buildings, with pic- 
 turesque curved roofs built around paved courtyards, 
 some of which are bright with flower-beds, and some 
 have been turned into quaint rock-gardens, where 
 Lilliputian hills, fantastic bridges, and rocky dells 
 play at “ make-believe.” The great entrance gates, 
 with the gate-keeper’s lodge, are round mysterious 
 corners and down side passages. With characteristic 
 
 75 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Chinese indirectness one is obliged to enter the 
 precincts by an unnecessarily circuitous route. 
 
 Our palatial residence opens into a fashionable 
 residential street — in bad weather almost impass- 
 able, however, with deep water and deeper mud, 
 and at all times the receptacle of egg-shells and 
 potato parings and decaying vegetable matter. The 
 public highway apparently acts as a dustbin to 
 our wealthy neighbours. The street is a relic of 
 the old Peking, which is so rapidly vanishing away, 
 and there is a charm about it in spite of the mud and 
 the egg-shells ! 
 
 The foreignised Legation quarter, with its tidy 
 kerb-stones and trim acacia trees, the raw red railway 
 station, the European bank, American stores — the 
 improvements, in fact, harmonise with old Peking 
 about as well as the traction engine harmonises with 
 the blue-hooded mule-carts and the velvet-saddled 
 donkeys. Western civilisation, like the traction engine, 
 is lumbering down amongst the mule-carts and the 
 donkeys. 
 
 Peking has a great future before it — that is what 
 everyone says. And though there are very few 
 Celestials who will admit that the “ outside King- 
 dom man ” has come to stay, there are very many 
 who are willing to accept and eager to make use 
 of his “ fire carriages ” and his “ lightning breath ” 
 (electricity). Meanwhile one stands outside the 
 cannon-riddled wall at the end of the British Legation 
 grounds and one reads over again the words inscribed 
 
 76 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 thereon, “ Lest we forget.” But there is no danger 
 of that yet awhile. 
 
 I am glad to say there are still a good many bits of 
 old Peking left. The country outside the walls of the 
 Tartar City in the direction of the “ Bell Temple ” 
 remains as “ Chinese ” as ever it was. 
 
 Vast flat stretches of vegetable fields, roads which, 
 like Topsy, have simply “ growed,” no hedges, hardly 
 any trees, no houses except an occasional “ cow-shed ” 
 behind a wall, which, in spite of appearances, turns 
 out to be a human habitation. We rode for six 
 miles on velvet-saddled donkeys, sometimes on the 
 road and sometimes off the road — there was not 
 much to choose between it and the adjoining fields — 
 and finally made a bee-line to the temple straight 
 across a gigantic onion garden, and whether there 
 exists a more trodden way in or not still remains a 
 mystery. 
 
 The Bell , you must know, is another of the wonders 
 of China, and possibly of the world. But to an old- 
 time Celestial China means the world — “ Tien-Hsia,” 
 they call it (literally “ all under Heaven ”). 
 
 The Bell is said to be fourteen feet high — it looked 
 more — and is embossed with eighty thousand characters 
 from Buddhist classics. It is made of bronze, the 
 largest bell — not that was ever cast — but that has 
 ever been hung. The only person who sounds it 
 is the “ Son of Heaven ” himself, who, in times of 
 great drought, repairs to the temple to ring the bell 
 and pray for rain. Custom ordains that he shall 
 
 77 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 remain on his knees until the rain begins to fall : 
 history prefers not to relate whether he actually 
 does so or not. He has been there this year, so the 
 priests told us — only a few months ago. They 
 showed us the suite of rooms reserved for his use — 
 surprisingly fresh and clean, considering the state 
 of some other parts of the temple — almost dazzling, 
 in fact, with white paper and white paint, and white 
 silk scrolls richly embroidered. We dismounted from 
 our donkeys in the outer court, and were shown 
 through into an inner courtyard, and given tea and 
 salt cakes sprinkled with millet seeds, in an extra- 
 ordinarily’' well-furnished guest-hall. The keng, or 
 raised brick couch, which occupied the whole of one 
 end of the room in the usual style, was covered in rich 
 blue brocade quilts. There were priceless bits of 
 old china, presents from Emperors of the Ming 
 dynasty, on black ebony stands, ebony chairs, and 
 carved “ dower ” chests along the walls, and (a very 
 unusual object in Chinese rooms) a large full-length 
 mirror, in which first the chief priest’s servant, and 
 later on the chief priest himself, tried on the cap of 
 the young Englishman who was with us, admiring 
 the effect ! The chief priest is a very important 
 person. He belongs, as a rule, to some influential 
 family, and rules over the temples of many sur- 
 rounding districts. He wore very unpriestlike gar- 
 ments, a gown of handsome blue silk, a sleeveless 
 jacket of black brocade, and white shoes, which prob- 
 ably meant that he was in mourning. He conducted 
 
 78 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 us himself to the Bell tower, and up the dusty, 
 rickety stairs, which led to a narrow wooden plat- 
 form, from which we could look down on to the top 
 of the great bronze monster coated with the dust 
 of five hundred years. A small hole in the very 
 centre of the top is suggested to the unwary visitor 
 as a fit destination for copper coins. A coin thrown 
 with unerring aim will strike the gong and make it 
 sound. Needless to say, however, people go on 
 throwing and throwing, and it never does sound, 
 but temple underlings who stand below gather up 
 the copper coins. 
 
 The chief priest showed us with pride a library 
 in an upper story in another part of the building, 
 by which he evidently set great store. Alas ! the 
 whole place was literally crumbling with dust, the 
 books, the tattered wall-paper, the decayed wood- 
 work, the broken floor — all in “ one brown burial 
 blent.” Through the open slats of windows, where 
 cobwebs had superseded the paper panes, a superb 
 tree with vivid scarlet leaves hung over the broken- 
 down building like a canopy of flame. 
 
 “ Hao puh hao ? ” * asked the chief priest, meaning 
 the library. 
 
 “ Hao ! ” we answered truthfully, meaning the 
 scarlet tree. 
 
 Our time in Peking, I grieve to say, is drawing to 
 an end, but we finish, as we began, with a “ lucky 
 day.” 
 
 * “ Good or not good ? ” 
 
 79 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 I heard sounds of jubilation in the street this 
 morning, and looked to see a gay procession coming 
 along, not a wedding this time, but a funeral ! and, 
 instead of the bride’s chair, the coffin borne on the 
 shoulders of a number of men, gorgeously draped in 
 rich brocade. The band played lustily, and the 
 gilded drums, like gigantic golden persimmons, 
 were as much in evidence as in the wedding pro- 
 cessions. Pekingese carts brought up the rear, and 
 in them sat the mourners dressed from head to 
 foot in white sackcloth. Every relation, near and 
 distant, and you may be sure that on these occasions 
 their name is legion, can, if they come to the funeral, 
 demand a complete new costume of white sackcloth, 
 and very becoming it is to them — far more so than 
 the ubiquitous blue. 
 
 To us, however, this has been anything but a 
 lucky day. All the best hours of it have been spent 
 in — how should you think ? Why, in getting our 
 tickets on the Belgian-Chinese railway from Peking 
 to Hankow ! 
 
 We furnished ourselves with dollar notes for the 
 requisite sum at the bank. Arrived at the station, 
 however, all the notes, except those on the Russo- 
 Chinese Bank, were promptly refused by the Chinese 
 clerk. No tickets could, therefore, be bought that 
 morning. We made another pilgrimage to the bank, 
 changed the notes for heavy rolls of Mexican dollars, 
 went all the way back to the station in a springless mule- 
 cart, alighted somewhat bruised and battered, proffered 
 
 So 
 
From a Photograph by E. Murray 1 
 
 LAMA TEMPLE, PEKING 
 
 Page So 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the dollars to the booking office factotum, who this 
 time could not refuse to take them, but looked at 
 us suspiciously, and asked us to write down our names 
 in full ! Finally the tickets were produced, and then 
 he proceeded to punch them, but the punching 
 machine was broken. We waited patiently ; the 
 afternoon was drawing to a close when he finally 
 handed us over our hardly earned possessions. We 
 congratulated ourselves on having listened to advice 
 and bought our tickets beforehand ! 
 
 We start to-morrow, and when I write again, we 
 shall, I hope, be eight hundred miles further on our 
 journey. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 G 
 
 81 
 
Hankow, 
 
 November loth , 1907. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 China, it is still China, the very heart of China, 
 in fact, but we are living in a foreign settlement again, 
 and the streets seem drearily commonplace after those 
 wonderful kaleidoscopes of colour in Peking. The 
 journey down through the provinces of Chili, Honan, 
 and Hupeh would have amused you. It was like a 
 journey in a dream, so strangely unreal did that 
 Belgian train seem to us steaming away through 
 inland China, across the vast flat stretches of vegetable 
 fields dotted here and there by blue-gowned peasants 
 or a scarecrow tree, a highly cultivated but weirdly 
 empty country ! On rare occasions the dark line of 
 a city wall, like the wall of an immense prison, showed 
 up some distance away, for the Chinese will not have 
 the “ iron road ” or the “ fire carriages ” any nearer 
 to their homes than they can help, for fear of “ evil 
 influences,” and the long line of Chinese soldiers 
 ranged along the platform at every station proves 
 that there still exists a danger of active opposition 
 on the part of those who eye with suspicion the doings 
 of the “ outside Kingdom man.” 
 
 The train was excellently appointed. We travelled 
 second class, for they say the only difference between 
 
 82 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 first and second lies in carpet versus oilcloth. Deborah 
 and I had a compartment to ourselves, next door to 
 a pantry, where hot water could be obtained at any 
 hour of the day, and three Chinese boys were there 
 to wait on us. When we returned to our carriage after 
 our evening repast in the dining-car, we discovered 
 that the seats had been neatly transformed into beds, 
 and very comfortable beds they were ! 
 
 In the middle of the night we crossed the famous 
 Yellow River, on the bridge which everybody vowed 
 a year or two ago could never be constructed with 
 any success. The shifting sands offered great diffi- 
 culties. Finally hollow piles were buried in their 
 depths, and other piles screwed into the inside of 
 these ; but whether the structure will remain firm 
 or not time alone will prove. The bridge is evidently 
 still treated with great care and caution. In the 
 early days of its existence the heavy engine was 
 changed to a light one for the journey across. 
 
 The train stood shivering on the brink of the river a 
 good ten minutes or so before venturing over (pre- 
 sumably while the line was inspected), and when it did 
 venture it crept along tremblingly at a timid pace. The 
 bridge was brilliantly lit up by electric light, and never 
 have I seen a more desolate scene, a great waste of 
 water and barren mud flats, which must at times be 
 flooded by the river. I have heard it said that the 
 distance of the mud flats and the river combined is 
 seven miles across at one particular point. The Yellow 
 River goes by the name of the “ Chinese Sorrow,” 
 
 83 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 as I dare say you know. In 1852 it changed its course 
 entirely, and made itself a new route to the sea, 
 many miles away from the old. In 1887 it burst its 
 bonds once more and tried to force a passage to the 
 Yangtse, but was brought back again at an almost 
 fabulous expense. The common belief is that the 
 day will come when it will revert to its original 
 bed. 
 
 By the electric light we could plainly see the 
 swirling yellow water, too rapid to admit of navigation, 
 and on the near shore one lonely patch of light and 
 the shadow of a roof pointed out the site of a tiny 
 foreign bungalow, the solitary home possibly of some 
 Belgian engineer ; a weirdly dismal habitation be- 
 tween the mud flats and the whirling water. 
 
 Further south the scenery improved. The vegetable 
 fields had disappeared for the time being, and the 
 wooded hills on the borders of Hupeh were intersected 
 by terraces half under water, from which stubbly 
 green stalks were sprouting — our first sight, this, of 
 rice fields. 
 
 The next afternoon, exactly thirty-two hours after 
 leaving Peking, we reached Hankow ; but the wooded 
 hills had vanished long ago, the whole country 
 was half submerged in water, and villages of melan- 
 choly houses built on piles stood in the midst of 
 swamps. 
 
 The platform at Hankow swarmed with Chinese 
 troops, in semi-Western uniforms of bright blue, or 
 black with red pipings. Three military bands, 
 
 84 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 formed on German lines, were playing lustily, but 
 unfortunately they had each of them chosen a 
 different tune. I dare say the effect was considered 
 “ all the more Western.” This military display 
 was in honour of the new brigadier-general, who 
 had come down on the train from Peking. We 
 had noticed him in the dining-car, with his sharp, 
 bony face and horn spectacles and magnificently em- 
 broidered silk gown. The long peacock’s feather 
 dangling from his red-buttoned cap showed him to 
 be an official of high standing. 
 
 At the station the confusion was immense. Shoals 
 of Yamen servants pushed themselves to the front in 
 the overbearing, blustering way characteristic of 
 Yamen underlings. The luggage van seemed public 
 property. People invaded it from every side, seizing 
 their belongings. The Chinese entrust their goods 
 to it in the most confiding way, small personal objects 
 unlabelled and unpacked are pushed in amongst the 
 boxes and bags. I saw one of the official troop 
 fetch out a small wicker basket containing a couple 
 of pots of jam ! 
 
 We arrived at our destination to find that, owing 
 to our delay at Teng-Cheo-Fu, we had missed the 
 friends who were to have escorted us up the Yangtse. 
 The only thing to do now is to wait here until some 
 other people whom we know, and who are also bound 
 for Szechwan, come up the river at the end of the 
 month. 
 
 Again I don’t know where we should be if Kay 
 
 85 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 had not given us an introduction here to missionary 
 friends of hers, who very kindly are allowing us to 
 stay with them. 
 
 November 20th. 
 
 Hankow does not depress me as much as it did. 
 When we first arrived it rained all the time, and had 
 been raining, so they said, for a whole month. The 
 swollen river, the dripping trees along the Bund, 
 the European houses with their wet plaster walls, 
 the watery roads, and the bare feet of the drenched 
 coolies pattering through the puddles made up a very 
 dreary picture ; but when the rain stopped the sun 
 came out, and the sunshine here is simply glorious, 
 so much hotter and so much brighter than it ever is 
 in England. 
 
 The garden is full of flowers, in spite of the long 
 downpour. Geraniums in any number, plumbago 
 and violets grown in pots fill the air with fragrance, 
 palms and bananas adorn the beds. Across the lawn 
 stands a magnificent tree, the size of a big laburnum, 
 which is one mass of double pink blossoms, resembling 
 in form and colour a pink hollyhock ; but the flowers 
 fall off almost as soon as they come out, which has 
 probably earned for the tree the sobriquet of “ puh 
 iong ” (“ no use ”). The old gardener whom I 
 questioned as to its real name could give no help. 
 
 86 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 I found his information peculiarly limited in this 
 respect. 
 
 “ This piece call what ? ” I asked, indicating a 
 violet. 
 
 “ Blue flower,” he answered. 
 
 “ That piece call what ? ” I went on, pointing to 
 a geranium. 
 
 “ Red flower,” he answered. 
 
 We have found our way beyond the commonplace 
 grey stucco houses to the native streets. There is 
 one, a particular favourite of mine, three miles long, 
 and like a picturesque arcade most of the way, 
 splashed with gorgeous colour. The hanging scrolls 
 and sign-boards from the low-roofed houses almost 
 meet overhead. There is no wheeled traffic, there 
 is no room for any, but the pavement is crowded 
 with pedestrians, and the air is filled with shouts of 
 men who, bearing burdens on bamboo poles slung 
 across their shoulders, cry out incessantly for room to 
 pass. They have a way of saying, “ Fish, fish ! ” or 
 “ Oil, oil ! ” whether this is true or not, so that the 
 crowd, fearing to soil their gowns, instantly stand on 
 one side for them to go by. But the men with the 
 sedan-chairs yell louder than the burden-bearers as 
 they force their way ruthlessly through the people, 
 never waiting a moment for anybody. 
 
 The shops are of every variety, mingled indiscrimi- 
 nately in a way characteristic of China. A prosperous 
 silversmith’s stands side by side with a dried fish shop, 
 or a little sweetmeat stall, in which rice toffee and 
 
 87 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 sugared monkey-nuts hold a prominent position. The 
 more unattractive the shop the more high-flown prob- 
 ably the motto on the swinging shop-sign. Imagine 
 the dingiest of narrow passages described as the “ Alley 
 of Virtuous Prosperity,” and a second-hand clothes’ 
 shop, “ Clothes’ Repository for Perpetual Spring.” 
 A medicine store promises “Ten Thousand Years of 
 Life ” to its customers. A jeweller announces “ Peace 
 to All.” And a money-changer’s masquerades under 
 the title of “ Happy Life.” The owner of a cloth 
 shop goes so far as to assert that “ he who opens an 
 account there will obtain eternal joy.” 
 
 The shops themselves are full of surprises. The 
 walls of one large emporium are so gorgeously hung 
 with gay scarlet and gold scrolls that one takes it for 
 a scroll shop ; not a bit of it — its stock-in-trade turns 
 out to be beef, pork, and lottery tickets. In a funeral 
 store, amongst the magnificently embroidered funeral 
 garments, two large green birds are standing in 
 flower-pots. On closer inspection we discover they 
 are ingeniously made of small yew trees, grown and 
 clipped in the shape of birds. The bold, staring eyes 
 and lifelike beaks are formed of some artificial 
 substance, and the whole effect is most realistic. 
 
 Hankow, it seems, is only one of three great cities — 
 Hankow, Woochang, and Hanyang — and the three 
 are welded into one, or rather the one is divided into 
 three, by the great rivers of the Yangtse and the Han, 
 which join forces just below. 
 
 From a high ridge on the further side of the 
 
 88 
 
GROTESQUE GODS 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Han River one can obtain a magnificent bird’s-eye 
 view of the whole — the wide waters of the rivers 
 (the Yangtse alone is about a mile across), the 
 flooded meadow land, and the sea of roofs. At 
 first sight there seems more water than land. Han- 
 yang, to the right and the left of us, scarred in Western 
 fashion by the smoking chimneys of the biggest iron- 
 works in China ; the muddy waters of the Han, 
 thronged with native craft, dividing Hankow, with 
 its flat masses of roofs, from Hanyang with its chim- 
 neys ; while the River Yangtse, larger and even 
 yellower than the Han, stretches itself at ease be- 
 tween Hankow and Woochang. 
 
 A Buddhist temple stands in solitary grandeur at the 
 far end of the ridge on a height overhanging the river. 
 A priest in a straw hat like a parasol, sitting on the 
 threshold of one of the arched gateways smoking his 
 water-pipe, courteously ushered us in and regaled us 
 on tea and rice-flour biscuits, monkey-nuts and melon 
 seeds. Four grotesque gods, with vermilion and ultra- 
 marine faces, viewed us from afar, and in the courtyard 
 a carved serpent coiled round an enormous stone 
 turtle * eyed us stonily. We asked the priest for an ex- 
 planation of this. He could give none, however. It 
 seems they very seldom can. As we took our departure 
 he mildly announced that the Buddhist and Christian 
 religions were practically identical. Possibly he does 
 not often come down from his lonely temple on the 
 hill to see what the rest of the world is about. 
 
 * Attributes of the northern god. 
 
 89 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The “ outside Kingdom ” doctrine has done a great 
 deal for Hankow and her sister towns. Hospitals 
 crammed with patients, cottages and schools crowded 
 with students, preaching chapels thronged with 
 hearers, and a great cathedral in which the trained 
 choir and even some of the officiating clergy are of 
 Chinese birth, show in some measure the results of 
 long years of devoted work. It has been a revelation 
 to me. One only hears half the story at home, one 
 needs to come out to these parts to hear the rest, 
 though the story is not finished yet, not by a long 
 way, but it grows in interest. 
 
 We went over to Woochang the other day, ferrying 
 across the river in a sampan. We took one of the 
 Chinese “ boys ” with us. A Chinese is nothing if 
 not practical. He seized this opportunity of plenty 
 of water to be had for nothing, and busied himself 
 washing his “ sheo-jin ” (handkerchief). The “ sheo 
 jin ” is a valuable possession. It is used for mopping 
 the face, drying the hands, for holding provisions, 
 and for tying over the head to keep off the sun — for 
 anything, in fact, except the purpose for which we use 
 it ourselves. 
 
 In Woochang we went to see the big American 
 college in which so many mandarins’ sons are being 
 educated. In the early days boys were paid to come, 
 and now they clamour for admission ; and the fees 
 charged are, from a Chinese point of view, very fairly 
 substantial. The college is conducted as far as possible 
 on the lines of an English public school. We were 
 
 90 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 shown a library where English books by standard 
 authors lined the shelves. The boys may take a 
 certain number back to their homes in the holidays, 
 and read as many as they like, of course, during the 
 term time. Their taste is much more serious than 
 that of English or American boys. As to novels, in 
 American parlance, they have “ no use for them 
 whatever.” 
 
 From the college we went on to a school for girls, 
 a more humble institution, but one which I am sure 
 does an infinite amount of good. Some sad cases 
 were pointed out to us, which made one realise for 
 the hundredth time something of the miseries to which 
 Chinese children, more especially girls, are so often 
 subjected. One, a sweet-faced maiden, is engaged 
 to be married to a leper. All the school authorities 
 can do is to delay the marriage as long as possible. In 
 China, apparently, leprosy constitutes no “ cause or 
 just impediment.” Another, a bonny child, is the 
 daughter of lepers. And a third was once a slave, 
 who was horribly burnt by her owner, the wife of 
 a wealthy fortune-teller, and afterwards buried alive 
 in a wall, where, fortunately, she was discovered by 
 friends before it was too late, and brought back to, 
 at all events, a certain degree of health in the Mission 
 Hospital. An English child would hardly have sur- 
 vived, but the Chinese possess great vitality and 
 “ power of recuperation,” and, considering their in- 
 difference to matters of common hygiene, are aston- 
 ishingly long-lived. They even seem to thrive on in- 
 
 91 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 sufficient and sometimes unwholesome food. I have 
 been told of men who, in a state of poverty, try to 
 make their “ meals ” last out longer by eating them 
 half cooked, so as to prolong the process of digestion. 
 They can certainly achieve with impunity that which 
 would probably be the end of all things to a Westerner, 
 and can eat the flesh of a dog that has died by strych- 
 nine poisoning with no evil results. 
 
 According to general opinion, the Chinese are curi- 
 ously insensible to pain. A Cantonese of wide experi- 
 ence tells me this is more noticeable among northerners 
 than southerners. He remembers a species of “ game ” 
 played by the youths in a northern town in which they 
 vied with each other as to who should slash off the 
 biggest piece of flesh from their own limbs. It is 
 very certain that the women must suffer horribly from 
 their bound feet, yet they hobble about with un- 
 affected cheerfulness. In one case that I heard 
 of, the nails of the toes pressed under the con- 
 tracted sole had forced their way up through the 
 flesh. 
 
 The unrestrained cruelty in these heathen lands 
 would make you shudder. Not far from this place 
 there lived two brothers. The elder having no son 
 was permitted by Chinese law to adopt his brother’s 
 child as his own. The father of the boy in question 
 caused both the child’s legs to be broken, in order to 
 thwart his brother by every means in his power. Not 
 long after the “ offended gods,” so the people said, 
 “ took their revenge.” In the sudden collapse of a 
 
 92 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 wall the father of the injured boy was severely crushed 
 and both his legs cut to pieces. 
 
 At Woochang a high green ridge, called the “ Ser- 
 pent Hill,” divides the town into two parts. Not 
 so very long ago an enterprising official made a cutting 
 through the top of the hill to accommodate a carriage 
 road. Hardly was it completed when he fell ill with 
 a painful disease of the ear. It was represented to him 
 that the serpent, in indignation at having a hole 
 made in his back for the sake of such a paltry thing 
 as a carriage road, had sent this illness by way of 
 punishment. In alarm the official instantly gave 
 orders that the cutting should be filled in and the 
 carriage road done away with, and, needless to say, 
 he instantly recovered his lost health. 
 
 We walked up the grass-grown slope, where there 
 are still traces of the road to be seen. At the foot of 
 the hill a tangled mass of buildings, flaunting brilliant 
 yellow flags, were pointed out to us as barracks, 
 decorated in honour of the Empress’s birthday, which 
 is a movable feast, according to the fancy of the 
 fortune-tellers, who have to decide on a lucky day. 
 A few weak-kneed, depressed-looking horses, with 
 protruding ribs — the “ cavalry mounts ” — were lined 
 up outside the barracks. 
 
 Talking of roads, still another enterprising official 
 over here at Hankow had the brilliant idea of flatten- 
 ing down one of the city walls and turning it into 
 a causeway a mile or so long, across low-lying ground 
 between Hankow and the River Han. Fortunately, 
 
 93 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the dragon expressed no disapproval, and the road 
 has been allowed to remain. We drove along it one 
 day, enjoying the sights. In a shallow stretch of water 
 men were floundering about, diving down and up 
 again. It seems they were catching fish, and by 
 imitating the antics of the creatures themselves, they 
 succeeded in disarming suspicion and enticed them 
 into their clutches. One popped out of the water 
 just as we were passing with a big fish held between 
 his teeth ! 
 
 The open stretches of land where the floods had 
 subsided were gay with colour. Long lengths of 
 blue and indigo cloth, just freshly dyed, lay drying 
 on the ground ; red silk was being wound across 
 skeleton clothes-horses on to gigantic wooden reels ; 
 and further on whole fields were spread from end to 
 end with magenta, pink, and yellowy-brown paper, 
 and amongst the paper, coffins new and coffins old, 
 coffins the right side up and coffins half turned over, 
 were scattered about promiscuously, whether waiting 
 for burial or occupation we were too far off to decide. 
 
 The road ended in a transformation scene. Native 
 dwellings, swamp lands, coffins, and scenes of primitive 
 industry changed all of a sudden into a “ Western ” 
 suburb of bricks and mortar, factories and chimneys 
 side by side with the great rolling river of the Han, 
 “ too full for sound and foam,” and a jumble of boats, 
 junks, sampans, fishing craft, and cargo vessels hugging 
 the shores. 
 
 The factories and chimneys announce the influence 
 
 94 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 of the “outside Kingdom man,” but modern machinery 
 by no means always appeals to the Chinese. Someone 
 was telling me the other day of a new invention which 
 was submitted to the head mandarin. It had the 
 supreme advantage of needing the services of one 
 man only, and of doing the work of a hundred. His 
 Excellency, however, considered this a supreme dis- 
 advantage. A machine that would give employment 
 to a hundred men instead of one would be more to 
 the point, he said, and he would be prepared to con- 
 sider any invention of this kind. 
 
 Some of the native methods of preparing goods 
 for market are said to be wonderfully efficacious, 
 though absurdly simple. We passed a man this morn- 
 ing who was pressing out new cloth. A roll of the 
 cloth on a gigantic wooden reel, placed on a stone 
 slab, was weighed down by a block of granite shaped 
 like a big “V.” On the top of this a man balanced 
 himself by holding on to a beam above his head, 
 and slowly rocked the “V ’’-shaped block from side 
 to side with his two feet. The result, they said, was 
 excellent. 
 
 We have been investing in native wares for our 
 journey up the river. Were there ever a people who 
 could provide so economically and yet so efficiently 
 for their comforts ? Deborah and I have purchased 
 a couple of foot-stoves for about two shillings apiece, 
 brass baskets with perforated lids and large handles, 
 ten or twelve inches in diameter and six or seven inches 
 in depth, which, when carefully filled with wood ash 
 
 95 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and some burning knobs of charcoal, will last for 
 hours and keep one splendidly warm. The Chinese 
 hold them sometimes inside their outer garments, 
 warming themselves back and front, and creating, 
 as you may well imagine, a most peculiar effect of 
 deformity. Furthermore, we have fitted ourselves 
 out with “ pu k’ai,” native quilts wadded with cotton- 
 wool ; but, alas ! we did not take a native with us to 
 “ talk price,” and flattered ourselves we could make 
 this simple purchase on our own account. 
 
 We selected an attractive “ pu k’ai ” shop, and chose 
 a couple of nice clean-looking quilts, with glaring 
 covers of cotton cloth, and, having found the price 
 considerably less than we expected, we returned 
 triumphantly with our purchases. Our hostess looked 
 at them suspiciously, and, unpicking a few stitches, 
 pointed out to us that the shopman had had the best 
 of the bargain — the cotton-wool was full of black 
 specks and horrible suggestions. The cover was new, 
 and that was all ! 
 
 We made a second journey to the shop, with one of 
 the serving women in attendance. I expected a 
 stormy scene, but I was not versed in Oriental methods. 
 The serving woman gently and sweetly made a 
 seemingly polite remark about their sign-board. 
 The magic words took instant effect. The shopman 
 smilingly produced the money we had paid and re- 
 ceived his goods back again without a word of re- 
 monstrance. 
 
 Our next attempt at bargaining was in a china shop. 
 
 96 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Our guide, the serving woman once more, said she 
 would take us to one that she could recommend in 
 the three-mile street. She stopped before a strange- 
 looking place, in which quite half the stock-in-trade 
 consisted of ropes and crabs, and the whole staff was 
 sitting round a table with their basins and chop-sticks, 
 eating a late breakfast. So indifferent were they to 
 the presence of customers at this inauspicious moment 
 that they merely stared at us wonderingly and went 
 on with their food. We went round the shelves and 
 helped ourselves, bringing the things to the counter 
 to “ talk price.” The breakfast party bestirred itself 
 at this juncture, and the discussion became animated. 
 Meanwhile the serving woman sat on a high chair, 
 resting her maimed feet, and smiled, and the smile 
 went round the shop. It occurred to us afterwards 
 that she had taken this opportunity of doing her 
 “ tsin tsih ” (relatives) a good turn, as we discovered 
 later that all the best china shops were in another 
 part of the town. 
 
 Hankow simply hums with industry. The air is 
 full — morning, noon, and eve — of the see-saw chant 
 of the coolies as they trot patiently up and down the 
 roads to and from the river, bearing great burdens of 
 cotton-wool and cloth and tea. Wherever one goes 
 there are coolies carrying burdens, long lines of them, 
 and each one is chanting first a high note, then a low 
 note, in varying keys. Everyone seems busy, and nearly 
 everyone is in a hurry. Even the women, with their 
 stiff “ wooden ” legs, ending off in knobs and looking 
 
 H 97 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 like ninepins in trousers, hobble along at a mar- 
 vellously quick pace. 
 
 The weather is growing colder. The rainy season 
 ended in June sunshine, the June sunshine passed 
 with a rapid swerve to winter cold. 
 
 By this time our preparations are almost complete. 
 We have got our bedding, our foot-stoves, our 
 washing basins, our plates and spoons, our candles 
 and lanterns, and the last week in November will find 
 us on the river. 
 
 Deborah gets rather depressed, and people marvel 
 at us for proposing a trip up the Yangtse merely for 
 pleasure. It seems that the friends whom we were 
 to have gone with started when the water was too 
 high, and have been badly wrecked. They have lost 
 their boat and spoilt all their things. But wrecks 
 are such common events on the upper Yangtse that 
 nobody seems particularly surprised. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 98 
 
ICHANG, 
 
 November 28 tb. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday we 
 travelled by steamer from Hankow to Ichang, and 
 now, I am glad to say, we have finished with steamers 
 for some months to come, as they can go no further. 
 Of all the dreary, weary journeys, those four days 
 from Hankow to Ichang were about the worst. The 
 scenery was a study in sepia — a brown, mud-stained 
 river, low, mud-built banks, occasional sodden clumps 
 of mud - and -wattle huts, a drab-coloured pagoda, 
 mournful and solitary, and now and again a water 
 buffalo, bearing on its solid back a muffled figure 
 hunched up beneath an oil-paper umbrella. 
 
 The weather was as drab-coloured as the scenery, 
 the steamer smelt of paint, and the food came out of 
 tins. Only five people besides our two selves were 
 travelling “ foreign.” Below stairs, however, there 
 were masses of Chinese passengers, who apparently 
 do not mind how they travel, and are satisfied with 
 very little more than standing room. 
 
 When we first arrived here the cold considerably 
 damped our ardour. The house in which we are 
 staying is planned with a view to coolness in summer 
 rather than warmth in winter. I started my Chinese 
 
 99 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 foot-stove, but being a novice in these matters, burnt 
 holes in my shoes and large pieces out of my skirt. 
 
 We imagined we should be off at once on the house- 
 boat journey, but it seems this sort of thing cannot 
 be done in a hurry — not, at least, in China. The 
 selection of the boat and the bargaining over the 
 price is a long and tedious business. Out on the river 
 the boats lie side by side in their hundreds, but it 
 takes an expert to know which to choose and how 
 much money to offer for it. Then ensues a good deal 
 of bother over the cargo, which has to be passed 
 through the Customs, and Dr. and Mrs. P., who have 
 kindly promised to escort us up the river, are taking 
 a large quantity of stores, etc., from the coast. Finally 
 the boatman must decide on a lucky day on which to 
 start. 
 
 Deborah and I, meanwhile, finding everybody busy 
 except ourselves, have plenty of time in which to 
 explore Ichang. Even here, a thousand miles up the 
 Yangtse, there is quite a little colony of foreigners, 
 and at this end of the town the tumble-down native 
 shops are interspersed by trim foreign buildings — 
 Custom House, post office, hospital, etc. When these 
 are passed, however, the scene changes, and one finds 
 oneself in the usual narrow street, five or six feet 
 wide, amongst the now familiar tiny, open-fronted 
 shops. 
 
 The dingiest of these are the tea shops (another 
 point of contrast with Western lands). They are 
 made as uninviting as possible, reminding one of a 
 
 IOO 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 broken-down shed with the front taken out — black 
 rafters in the darkness overhead, black mud on the 
 uneven floor below. Around the unadorned tables 
 there are forms to sit upon, or high stools, and the 
 only crockery consists of small basins, and the only 
 food of weak tea — with, as you know, neither sugar 
 nor milk. The unsophisticated Chinese loathes milk, 
 and says that the “ outside Kingdom man smells of 
 milk and soap,” rather a clean smell according to our 
 notions, but to them it is objectionable. The res- 
 taurants are like the tea-shops, except that the basins 
 are more in number, and filled with a mixture of rice 
 and choppcd-up vegetables, plus a little fish and 
 pork. 
 
 In a shop tidier than the rest I asked the price of 
 a couple of exquisite china vases. They were not for 
 sale, they said, and I gathered that this was a medicine 
 store and my exquisite vases contained drugs ! 
 
 The cotton-wool shops are immensely attractive. 
 Every available space is covered by the great drifts 
 of snowy-white wool, which is sold at about fivepence 
 a pound. 
 
 But the residences in the narrow streets are palatial 
 in comparison with the houses on the shore, which 
 the fisher-folk are busy just now putting together. 
 They are fragile structures, built of bamboo poles 
 and bits of matting, and seem curiously inappropriate 
 to the coldest season of the year. During the summer 
 months, when the river is high, the shore is completely 
 submerged. Three weeks ago it was all under water, 
 
 IOI 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and in six months’ time the river will rise again, and 
 half the bamboo poles and matting will be carried 
 away by the swift current. Under the circumstances 
 it seems strange that anyone should think it worth 
 while to build at all. With surprising lack of foresight 
 in so practical a people they generally wait just twelve 
 hours too long. The water rises, and they lose what 
 they might otherwise have saved. 
 
 Yesterday evening our host, knowing we should 
 like to see as much as possible of all sides of life in 
 China, took us with him to one of the opium dens. 
 The streets, mysterious at the best of times, were 
 distinctly weird at night. The houses, yawning like 
 black caverns, seemed alive with people, of whose 
 presence we were vaguely conscious. The narrow 
 streets were thronged with shadows, dead and alive — 
 dense black shadows, where no light penetrated, and 
 moving shadows of human beings passing from the 
 wan light of a native lamp, a burning wick in a saucer 
 of oil, or a red candle in a paper lantern, into the 
 darkness. Nearly every shop boasted a light of some 
 kind, more or less inadequate. In one or two of them 
 the evening meal was in progress. The street seemed 
 to be public property, and at one point our way was 
 obstructed by a supper-table with a family party 
 gathered round it, out on the pavement. 
 
 Even so it was evident that the day’s work was not 
 yet over. At one particularly well-lighted corner a 
 street reader had gathered an attentive audience. 
 These men, who expound or read aloud the Chinese 
 
 102 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 classics, are usually employed by someone who desires 
 thereby to accumulate merit in the next world ! In 
 the blacksmiths’ forges men were still hard at 
 work. One queried when the day would be over for 
 these busy sons of toil. It was the second watch of 
 the night. The night watchman sounded his gong 
 to that effect as he passed along the street, yet the 
 workers were still working, and the very children 
 were not in bed. A burning incense stick made a 
 pathetic little point of light on the ground in front 
 of most of the shops. It was stuck into the crevices 
 of the wall, and was held competent to keep off evil 
 spirits ! 
 
 In a patch of shadow we arrived at our opium 
 den — a narrow doorway screened by thick hanging 
 curtains from the eyes of passers-by. We raised the 
 curtains and went in, our host leading the way. The 
 room — long, low, and narrow — was crowded with 
 people reclining at full length on hard couches, wide 
 enough to accommodate two at a time, and between 
 the two a small wooden stand held a couple of lamps 
 with glass bowls the size of a lemon, and several small 
 squares of paper on which reposed tiny lumps of 
 sticky black stuff, something like hot sealing-wax in 
 consistency. One of the smokers rolled a bit of it 
 between his fingers, holding it close to the light of 
 the lamp. He was still smoking his water tobacco 
 pipe, but his opium pipe lay ready to hand. 
 
 In many of the big towns, I am told, the opium 
 dens have been closed, but at Ichang nothing has 
 
 i°3 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 been done in this way as yet. Owing, however, to 
 the heavier taxes and restrictions of one kind and 
 another, the “ foreign medicine,” as they call it, 
 has increased considerably in price. 
 
 In our particular den the evening’s orgy had evi- 
 dently only just commenced. The men on the divans 
 were still sufficiently alert to take a great interest in 
 our movements, and were a long way off as yet from 
 that horrible state of conscious paralysis when, as 
 De Quincey puts it, “ the opium smoker lies under a 
 world’s weight of incubus and nightmare ... he 
 would fain lay down his life if he might rise and walk, 
 but he is powerless as an infant, and cannot so much 
 as make an effort to move.” 
 
 Our host had brought some papers on the “ outside 
 Kingdom doctrine.” 
 
 “ Can you recognise character ? ” he asked. (In 
 other words, “ Can you read ? ”) 
 
 “ Renteh, renteh ! ” they answered (“ Can recog- 
 nise ”), and eagerly stretched forth hands to receive 
 any that were offered. 
 
 The people of Ichang seem quite kindly disposed 
 towards the foreigners in these days. Only a 
 very few years ago, however, in the great drought 
 of 1900, things were different. The townsfolk re- 
 sorted to every device that commended itself to 
 their superstitious minds in order to persuade the 
 gods to give them rain. The idols, however, refused 
 to be propitiated. Tears, prayers, sacrifices, were 
 alike unavailing. At last it was suggested that the 
 
 104 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 entire population should be made to laugh , so that 
 the gods, seeing their indifference to trouble, should 
 be won over ! 
 
 In order, therefore, to bring about this state of 
 general hilarity a dog was dressed up as an old man 
 and carried through the streets to arouse laughter. 
 It is hardly to be wondered at, perhaps, that the 
 gods remained obdurate. By this time riots were 
 commencing. Blame fell, as usual, on the foreigners, 
 and two Roman Catholic priests were killed. The 
 Catholic bishop demanded compensation, but the 
 compensation was not forthcoming; thereupon he 
 gave orders that the bodies of the murdered men 
 should not be buried, but installed in the “ Temple 
 of the City God,” until proper reparation had been 
 made. The people rose up indignantly at the insult 
 to the “ God of the City,” and bore the bodies away. 
 The god, in gratitude to his supporters, so the story 
 goes, granted their prayers for rain ! 
 
 To-morrow I hear we are to start up the river. 
 This afternoon our two last preparations were made ; 
 we invested in velvet boots and silver shoes. This 
 sounds like an episode out of Cinderella. The velvet 
 boots, of course, are to wear. They are wadded and 
 beautifully warm, but turn up at the toes like the 
 curved roofs of the houses, and are horribly un- 
 comfortable. The “ shoes ” are heavy blocks of 
 rough silver, worth about seven pounds ten shillings 
 apiece ; and one of them was promptly carried 
 over to the nearest blacksmith’s forge to be heated 
 
 105 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in the fire and broken up into small pieces for ready- 
 use ! 
 
 We bought the velvet boots in a native boot 
 shop not far from the Yamen (the residence of the 
 head mandarin), and the memory of that Yamen 
 haunts me still. Round the entrance gates stood 
 numbers of wooden cages, from which the prisoners 
 had just been removed and put away into the inner 
 prison for the night. The punishment of being 
 shut up in one of those cages is not considered of 
 much account, but occasionally the cage is the scene 
 of a horrible death. The condemned man is sus- 
 pended just twelve inches off the ground inside the 
 bars and left to die. Round the outer courtyard 
 roofed-in cattle pens lurked in the shadows. Pleading 
 faces pressed against the slats of wood looked out at 
 us, and hands seeking alms were thrust forth im- 
 ploringly through tiny apertures. These were the 
 prisoners herded there for the night. 
 
 “ What kind of crime are they imprisoned for ? ” 
 we asked. 
 
 “ Very probably,” our companion answered, “ nine 
 out of every ten are absolutely innocent.” 
 
 And he told us that a Chinese friend of his own 
 is at the present time undergoing a life sentence 
 for no cause whatever except this, that he had be- 
 come unpopular in his native place by opening a 
 chapel for the propagation of the “ Doctrine,” 
 and his neighbours had trumped up a case in which 
 they accused him of obstructing the collection of 
 
 106 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 taxes. There was not a shade of evidence against 
 him. On the very day when he was accused of com- 
 mitting the offence he was away in the country 
 with the foreign teacher doing evangelistic work. 
 The official made a feint of granting him his free- 
 dom ; the same day, however, he was re-arrested 
 by the official underlings and taken back to a prison, 
 where he has remained ever since, and will remain 
 until released by death — and death does not tarry 
 long in these Chinese prisons. 
 
 The power exercised by the official underlings 
 seems unbounded. Woe betide the man against 
 whom they bear a grudge. Horrible methods of 
 torture are resorted to in order to extort bribes, 
 and these so-called “ secret ” punishments are dreaded 
 by the Chinese far more than the official ones, which 
 are often humane in comparison. Not always, 
 though ! They are past-masters in the art of maiming 
 without killing. I have heard of quicksilver being 
 poured down the ears, in order to irrevocably injure 
 the brain without causing death ; and, in the case 
 of theft, the sinews of the legs are sometimes cut, 
 in order to incapacitate the unfortunate victim for 
 the rest of his life. 
 
 But to leave these gruesome subjects and intro- 
 duce you to our house-boat. 
 
 The centre of it is roofed in and partitioned off 
 into four cabin-like rooms. There will be about 
 forty people on board, six of us, thirty or so of the 
 crew, and the captain’s mother, child, and wife 
 
 107 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 (I put the wife last, in the place she probably occupies 
 in the captain’s mind). If we were to apportion 
 the deck space evenly between the lot of us, I sup- 
 pose the sum would work out into seven feet per 
 head — say about enough space to be buried in ; 
 but the sum is not a case of simple division, the lion’s 
 share of the boat, i.e. the roofed-in part, belongs 
 exclusively to the six foreigners. The fore-deck 
 (except the prohibited place at the far extremity of 
 the bows, which is occupied by an invisible god !) is 
 for the crew. I shall be curious to see how they 
 manage to lie down at night. They will have to fit 
 themselves in like bits of a Chinese puzzle. The 
 after-deck, of which a small corner is covered in, is 
 the residence of the captain’s family, the foreigners’ 
 cook, and a few privileged members of the crew. 
 
 But what one lacks in space is made up for by 
 decoration. The windows (sliding glass panels, which 
 slide very badly) are gorgeously painted with un- 
 recognisable landscapes, birds, flowers, and fishes in 
 vivid shades of scarlet and purple and apple-green. 
 Gaudy paper panels adorn the inner wall of the 
 dining-cabin, the ceiling is of brilliant red, the 
 beams of green and blue, the frieze (?) of scarlet, 
 embossed in gold. 
 
 Deborah and I have a bedroom measuring just 
 six feet across. The bedsteads, made of boards on 
 trestles, are at right angles to each other, there are 
 three feet to spare in front of a tiny square table 
 which holds our washing basin, and when Deborah 
 
 108 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 stands up I suppose I shall have to lie down, and vice 
 versa, but even so we shall be luxuriously lodged in 
 comparison to the poor crew on the fore-deck. I 
 am not sure how many there are of them yet, and 
 we must be truly Chinese and not venture to count 
 numbers, as this is held to be unlucky, and will mean 
 the loss of one or more before the end of the journey. 
 
 We leave to-morrow, so I will post this before I 
 go. It is the last time for many days to come that 
 we shall have a chance of sending anything by steamer. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 109 
 
On the Upper Yangtse, 
 
 December yrd. 
 
 Dear Joan, 
 
 We are off at last ! It reminds me at present of 
 a pirate scene in a pantomime ; the pirates are the 
 crew and we are the prisoners. A rough-looking lot 
 of men they are, too, some only half clad, others 
 simply smothered in garments, their heads swathed 
 in cloths, black or otherwise. The deck is stained 
 with blood — the blood of the cock sacrificed to the 
 river god to ensure his protection on the journey, 
 and crackers in his honour are going off like a volley 
 of guns in our ears. We have been bundled on board 
 with our goods and chattels, and have hardly standing 
 room until things have been unpacked a bit and made 
 shipshape. The boat’s cook, meanwhile, is preparing a 
 feast for the “ pirates ” with which to celebrate the 
 occasion. The ship’s kitchen is merely a square hole 
 in the middle of the fore-deck ; the hole contains 
 both the cook and the fire plus the culinary utensils. 
 Only the cook’s head and shoulders are visible. He 
 is leaning over stirring the contents of a huge cauldron 
 and adding ingredients. Two or three joints of meat, 
 a fowl all complete, even to the head and neck, are 
 simmering gaily as the cook flings in a bucketful of 
 sliced vegetables, which he pats down with a caressing 
 
 no 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 hand, and then adds a bundle of something that looks 
 like the wicks of a lamp (probably some species of 
 native macaroni). 
 
 The crew consists chiefly of “ trackers,” and a 
 tracker’s life, I am told, is one of the hardest of lives, 
 even here in this country of hard work and plain 
 living. They belong to an army which counts its 
 members by the thousand, and toil from daybreak till 
 dark, and often longer, with only short intervals for 
 food, at the rate of twopence three farthings a day, 
 and their work is arduous. Either they are pushing 
 and pulling at the fin-like oars or long paddles, by 
 which the boat is propelled, or they are clambering 
 over the rocks on the shore, climbing precipices, 
 and racing down slopes, hauling the boat along all 
 the time by means of great bamboo ropes. Woe 
 betide one who takes it easier than the rest ! The 
 overseer, whip in hand, is down on the slacker with 
 blows fast and furious, and when the day comes 
 that their strength fails them (and with one at least 
 of our crew that time looks as though it were not far 
 off), nothing remains for them to do but to fall out 
 of the ranks and lie down on the shore to die. 
 
 This evening we moored early — our own boat and 
 its attendant satellites — the small “ wu pan,” for 
 carrying the trackers to and fro, and the official 
 red boat, with its picturesque crew of river marines 
 in scarlet silk jackets slashed with black velvet. This 
 is the life-saving boat, granted as a favour by the life- 
 boat service, and when, amidst much yelling and 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 shouting the trackers came on board, bamboo poles 
 were brought forth, and over them an awning of 
 matting spread by way of a roof. The feast over, 
 they laid themselves down, the head of one against 
 the feet of the other, and wrapped in quilts and quilted 
 garments, they covered the deck space from side to 
 side and corner to corner like a padded carpet. 
 
 Second day on board. 
 
 This morning we stepped forth to find ourselves in 
 a changed world. The great river, which used to be 
 a mile wide, has dwindled down to about a hundred 
 and fifty yards, and is shrinking and cowering between 
 giant precipices of rock ; blue, shadowy spectres of 
 hills close in one behind the other, hiding alike that 
 which is to be and that which has been. We realise 
 that we are passing through the first of the famous 
 gorges. Ping-Shan-Pa with its orange groves has 
 been left behind, and the river, dark and gloomy 
 and of depth unknown, flows deep down at the foot 
 of the precipices, whilst our trackers — one long, 
 tortuous line of yelling, howling creatures — clamber 
 over unseen paths across apparently unclimbable rocks, 
 dragging at the bamboo rope which, fastened to the 
 mast of our boat, is sometimes nearly a quarter of a 
 mile in length. Occasionally the shouting increases. 
 The excitement amongst those of the crew left on board 
 grows intense — the rope has caught round a jutting- 
 
 112 
 
IN THE YANGTSE GORGES 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 out rock. He who hesitates is lost ! In a flash a 
 tracker, stripped to the skin, plunges into the water 
 from goodness knows where, climbs up some im- 
 possible place, and sets the rope free. A few moments 
 more and we might have landed on the rocks. As 
 it is, on more than one occasion we drift perilously 
 near the formidable cliffs. 
 
 Third day on board. 
 
 We are entering into dreamland — gliding with 
 sails set and the trackers towing on the shore, out of 
 a sea of white fog into a land of sunshine veiled in 
 summer haze — a land of solitary dwelling-places with 
 low walls and curved roofs, of feathery bamboo 
 groves shadowed by pines, of shores where the rocks 
 have been hurled back pell-mell by the river in its 
 wrath, and wooded hills crowned by solitary pagodas. 
 There is no one about, only on the rarest occasions 
 a lonely fisherman in his cotton cloth of cornflower- 
 blue, standing patiently on an isolated rock wielding 
 his fishing-net. 
 
 Fourth day on board. 
 
 Our wonder-world grows in splendour. This 
 morning, in the radiant sunshine, we find ourselves 
 making rapid progress up the glittering, diamond- 
 spangled river, the waters of which rush past us in 
 mad haste to leave behind the land of enchantment. 
 
 i 
 
 113 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 But on ahead our way seems barred ; the river 
 appears to come to an end altogether at the foot of 
 the precipices. Walls of rock, black in the shadow, 
 rise a thousand feet or more above the water, and 
 on the broken heights the crimson foliage of some 
 low-growing shrub casts gory splashes of colour 
 across the sunlit green. But the river forces a way 
 through where no way seems possible, and suddenly 
 the rocks open out as though by magic. Again though 
 and yet again the mountains beyond — veiled sentinels 
 robed in pale amethyst, violet, and dusky purple — 
 marshal their forces together, and the frowning 
 precipices gather round to bar the way. And so 
 it goes on, broken ever and anon by cliffs that 
 have crumbled into sand and rocky boulders, and 
 the boulders — some of them — have rolled down into 
 the river, obstructing the flow of the water and 
 helping to form the boiling, seething torrents — the 
 white foam and the black whirlpools of the justly 
 dreaded rapids. The old adage, “ Familiarity breeds 
 contempt,” does not hold good on the upper Yangtse. 
 I am told that it has exactly the opposite results with 
 the native boatmen. 
 
 The whirlpools are most dangerous when the water 
 is high — say in the summer months ; but even now 
 they fill one with a certain amount of awe when the 
 swirling water gimlets down in the centre to a depth 
 of four or five feet, and with weird suddenness closes 
 up again, as though no harm were meant ! 
 
 This morning we passed up the famous Tong 
 
The rock in the centre ot the water was that upon which the German steamer “ Shui Hsiang” was wrecked. 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Lin rapid — a boiling cauldron above a great black 
 rock in the centre of the stream, whereby there 
 hangs a story. I was reading an account of the 
 Yangtse the other day and came across these w’ords : — 
 
 “ In 1899 foreign enterprise placed upon the river 
 small steamers . . . which will probably revolutionise 
 the traffic in a few years. . . .” 
 
 As far as I know, the first and only passenger 
 steamer on the waters of the upper Yangtse came to 
 grief against this very rock at the foot of the Tong 
 Lin rapid on its trial voyage. The native pilot, 
 knowing the eccentricities of the river, advised the 
 captain, a German, to steer straight for the middle 
 of the rock ; the captain thought he knew better, and 
 steered for the clear water at the side. The swift 
 current flung the steamer full tilt against the 
 wall of rock. Hopelessly damaged, it was hurled 
 stern foremost down the rushing stream, and a 
 hundred yards or so below the rapid sank to the 
 bottom of the river, and there it still lies, without 
 causing so much as a ripple on the surface of the water, 
 to mark the spot. 
 
 They give us a good deal of excitement, these 
 rapids. As a rule we go on shore and clamber over 
 rocky boulders to a bit of higher ground, where a 
 tottering row of dishevelled hovels constitute the 
 homesteads of a tattered company of men and women 
 and small boys, who earn a livelihood by helping to 
 tow ; and as, according to one authority, ten thou- 
 sand boats pass up the river in the course of the year, 
 
 ”5 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and the big cargo junks need three hundred men or 
 so to haul them through the rough water, and may 
 take hours, possibly a whole day, on the way, one 
 realises that there is plenty of employment of a 
 kind for the inhabitants of these miserable-looking 
 hovels. 
 
 The crowds who gather round us are immensely 
 interested in two things — my gloves and my camera. 
 They press their eyes to the view-finder, and cannot 
 understand why they fail to see anything. 
 
 “ Look not see ! ” they say in disappointed tones, 
 and when, after some trouble, I succeed in taking 
 a snap-shot, they gather round to get a glimpse of 
 the result, and are distressed to find that nothing is 
 visible. The distant beating of a drum announces 
 the oncoming of our boat. The weird, mysterious 
 thud, thud, thud of a drum in the distance will 
 always carry me back to the Yangtse rapids. At 
 critical moments it is sounded incessantly, and by it 
 signals and directions are given to the trackers. 
 The drum is answered by a wild yelling as a long, 
 bending, tortuous line of men and boys comes round 
 the rocks, just below us, pulling for dear life — each 
 one almost bent double in his effort to advance — 
 each one chanting “ Tseo ! tseo ! tseo ! ” so fervently 
 that the chant becomes a groan, as he holds on with 
 every muscle strained to the knotted sling attached 
 to the bamboo rope above his head, and clings with 
 bare feet to slippery ledges of rock, on which an 
 ordinary pedestrian would find but a scanty foot- 
 
 116 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 hold. Meanwhile it is touch and go ! Our boat 
 is battling with the turbid water of the rapid and 
 does not move a foot. For a few breathless moments 
 it seems to be slipping backwards. It is like an ex- 
 citing tug-of-war — the boat struggling at one end of 
 the rope, the men at the other. Tattered trackers 
 from the hovels are enrolled as recruits, and the men 
 win the day. There is always a danger of the rope 
 breaking. It is a common saying that a Chinese 
 values a few cents more than a life. His first idea in 
 a wreck is to save his quilt, and in the case of these 
 bamboo ropes he is so loth to throw them away until 
 they are absolutely broken, that he will often go on 
 using them when they are worn and frayed and quite 
 unsafe. When the rope breaks, the boat swings 
 back down the rushing stream, and very likely loses in 
 a few minutes the ground that has taken the best 
 part of a day to cover. 
 
 After safely getting up the Tong Lin rapid, we 
 passed through the Niu Kan gorge. The wind was in 
 our favour, and with sails set, we sped at an unusually 
 rapid pace along the sun-flecked water in the deep 
 cleft between gigantic cliffs. The river was dotted 
 with sails of other junks. They tracked from side 
 to side, and raced along two or three abreast of each 
 other. The trackers, who were all on board, whistled 
 for the wind. As a matter of fact, they didn’t 
 “ whistle,” but called, and their voices took a high 
 falsetto note, which re-echoed from the cliffs. The 
 official red boat, crimson in the sunlight, and adorned 
 
 117 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 with spreading sails of vivid blue, darted in and out 
 from side to side of the river like a monster dragon-fly. 
 At times the junks came so close together that a 
 collision seemed inevitable. Finally, with a crash, 
 the windows on one side of our “ saloon cabin ” 
 smashed to smithereens ; but that was a small matter 
 in comparison to another collision that same day. 
 I was standing at the cabin door looking on to the 
 fore-deck. With a wild yell the captain sprang to 
 his feet, and dashing over to the handful of men 
 who were working the sweep, added his exertions to 
 theirs. Too late ! With a resounding smash as of 
 all the windows and all the crockery in the boat 
 falling to the ground, we came quivering to a stand- 
 still. Those in front rushed to the back of the boat 
 to see what had happened, those at the back tried 
 to press forward and found their passage barred. 
 The boat was literally impaled on a projecting tooth 
 of rock, which had made short work of the wall 
 and the windows of the passage-way at the side of 
 our cabin, and was sticking its fangs right through 
 into the cabin itself, upsetting the washstand and 
 sending the crockery flying. 
 
 It was a critical moment, but only a moment. 
 In an incredibly short space of time we were free 
 again, pushed off by dexterously applied boat poles, 
 and the thudding of the drum announced to the 
 trackers out on the towing-path that all was right 
 once more. The window-frames and the woodwork 
 floated gaily away on the brown water. The “lao- 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 pan ” (captain) came and looked with a smile at the 
 damage done, his wife swept up the debris, and one 
 of the crew took down a cabin door and nailed it over 
 the yawning gap. Had the rock struck below the 
 water-line, the boat must inevitably have gone to the 
 bottom. It was a narrow escape ! 
 
 We had hardly settled down again when the sound 
 of wildly rushing waters warned us of the approach 
 of the famous Chin rapid. Our cook, who cooked 
 on placidly through rough water and smooth, through 
 collisions and disasters, had just boiled the kettle 
 and set the table for tea. It went against the grain 
 to go on shore and leave the tea untasted. Our chief 
 was firm, however, and said the Chin Tan was one 
 of the most dangerous of all the rapids, and no one 
 who could help it must stay on board. We clambered 
 along a narrow path, half sand, half rock, beneath 
 a steep, wooded hillside, to which houses were cling- 
 ing, but with so slight a grasp as to seem in momentary 
 danger of toppling over. Their picturesque brown 
 roofs and low walls, with shuttered openings for 
 windows, reminded me of Swiss chalets ; but the 
 pagoda roof of a temple perched high above the dark 
 pines and feathery green bamboos gave the requisite 
 Chinese touch to the picture. Here and there a 
 clump of brilliant crimson foliage or an orange or 
 pumelo tree, laden with golden fruit, showed that 
 the autumn had come ; but the day was as warm 
 and sunny as a June day in England. A couple 
 of our marines, in their picturesque scarlet silk coats, 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 formed themselves into our escort. We walked on 
 and on, but the Chin Tan seemed never-ending. 
 It was divided into three sections, and the last ap- 
 parently was by far the most turbulent of the lot. 
 We arrived at a point from whence we could watch 
 our boat. On ahead of us, somewhere on the towing- 
 path, a hundred trackers or more were pulling for 
 all they were worth on to the great bamboo ropes ; 
 but the boat, buffeted on every side by the tumbling 
 waters, seemed too petrified to move, and suddenly 
 the wild yelling of the trackers ceased — the silence 
 in its abruptness betokened calamity of some kind, 
 and in another moment we perceived that the rope 
 had given way. The boat reeled helplessly back at 
 the mercy of the torrent, and the men, fleeing in 
 pursuit, clambered over the rocks and were lost to 
 sight. 
 
 We were left alone. 
 
 It was growing dusk ; the waters of the Chin Tan 
 splashed and roared impatiently, waiting for fresh 
 prey. Our boat had been hurled down stream, no- 
 body knew how far. Even our marines had dis- 
 appeared. An inquisitive crowd gathered round the 
 strange barbarians, and one old crone expressed a 
 desire to try on Deborah’s motor-cap. We appeased 
 her by handing over a glove for her to examine. 
 It was almost dark; we were just contemplating 
 a night on shore, when news came that the boat 
 had been hauled up the rapid again, this time on 
 the further side of the river, where it had moored 
 
 120 
 
CHIN RAPID 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 for the night. The official red boat had reappeared 
 on the scene, and in it we were rowed swiftly across 
 the smooth water above the rapid to the opposite 
 shores. Then, by the light of flaming torches made 
 of old bamboo rope, we scrambled over slippery rocks, 
 and slithered down a stony bank, till we finally landed 
 on a friendly plank put out to help us back to our 
 deserted saloon cabin, with its table still set ready for 
 afternoon tea. 
 
 The seventh day of our voyage we passed the “ Yeh 
 Tan,” and, in spite of the fact that all went smoothly, 
 it took us the best part of the day. There were many 
 boats bound in the same direction, and we had to 
 wait our turn. 
 
 We whiled away the long hours in the hot sunshine 
 bargaining for Mandarin oranges, grown on the spot 
 and sold for something like twenty a penny, brown 
 cakes that tasted of oil, and rice toffee, which is 
 said to be most nutritious. 
 
 Deborah brought out her paint-box, and was 
 instantly accosted by a decrepit man, who proceeded 
 to disengage from its wrappings a leg covered with 
 open sores, and offered it for her inspection. He 
 had naturally concluded that the paint-box was a 
 medicine chest, and every foreigner in the eyes of 
 the unsophisticated Chinese is a physician. 
 
 On our ninth day we entered the Wu Shan gorge, 
 with a strong head wind obstructing our progress. 
 This is the longest of all the gorges, over twenty 
 miles in length, and one prolonged series of sharp 
 
 121 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 corners and dangerous places. On the rapids them- 
 selves so many precautions are taken that the dangers 
 are somewhat minimised ; but at rocky points like 
 those in the Wu Shan gorge, owing to the many 
 cross-currents and the rush of the water, which tears 
 along at something like eleven miles an hour, and a 
 strong wind blowing into the bargain, collisions are 
 only avoided by the exercise of great skill and prompti- 
 tude. The boat hugs the shore, in order to keep as 
 much as possible out of the wind. One false move 
 turning these sudden corners might mean destruc- 
 tion. 
 
 Often and often every spare hand — the “ mother- 
 in-law,” the cook, even the passengers, throw aside 
 any occupation they are engaged in, and seize on 
 brooms, mops, sticks, or a boat pole, if there is one 
 to be had, and rush to the rescue, pushing with all 
 might and main against an overhanging wall of rock 
 between which and the moving boat lie but a few 
 inches of open space. The “ mother-in-law’s ” 
 strident tones sound shrilly above the chanting of 
 the boatmen and the splashing of the waters. We 
 call her the “ bird of evil omen.” At the first sign 
 of danger, or in any quarrel, her voice is always to 
 be heard. At other times she retires into private 
 life in the roofed-in cabin at the stern. The “lao- 
 pan ” grows wild with unrestrained excitement at 
 these critical moments. I have seen him bound in 
 the air over and over again, like a child skipping, to 
 emphasise the directions which he is bawling out 
 
 122 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to the boatmen on deck and the trackers on the 
 shore. 
 
 His excitement, perhaps, is hardly to be wondered 
 at, when one reflects that his only means of livelihood 
 is bound up with the safety of the boat. Most of 
 these men live from hand to mouth. Unless they 
 have exceptionally good fortune, the intervals wait- 
 ing at Ichang for fresh cargo or passengers generally 
 land them deeply into debt, so that most of the 
 passage money paid in advance goes to the creditors 
 before starting. If they cover expenses on the voyage 
 up they are satisfied ; but on the return journey 
 they hope for a profit. From June till October the 
 water is too high to be safe for navigation ; the work- 
 ing year is, therefore, never a long one. 
 
 Our eleventh day on board we nearly came to 
 grief. All seemed going well. We were being hauled 
 up a small rapid, and by the lazy, indifferent manner 
 of the boatmen and the sleepy way in which the 
 captain was thud, thudding at the drum, there was 
 evidently no cause for alarm. The water boiling 
 up around us had no power to stay our progress. 
 In another moment we should be through, but in 
 another moment the aspect of affairs had changed. 
 The bubbling waves leapt triumphantly against the 
 sides of the boat. The men seized violently upon 
 the sweep, and their chanting changed to yells. 
 The “ lao-pan ” deserted his post at the drum, and 
 snatching a handful of cooked rice from a basin 
 near by, flung it into the water. He hoped thereby 
 
 123 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to appease the dragon ; but the dragon refused to 
 be won over so easily. The rope had neither slipped 
 nor broken, but had got entangled in the sweep, and 
 we were swirling round wildly, helplessly, in the 
 raging torrent. Again and still again the captain 
 stopped to throw out more rice, but the boat 
 had turned broadside on and was drifting swiftly 
 and surely down the stream. All hands available 
 worked at the oars, but without any apparent 
 effect. 
 
 We were losing the well-fought ground of that 
 morning, and going down in a few minutes the stream 
 that had taken us many hours to come up. The Hsia 
 Ma rapid of yesterday haunted our memories. If we 
 got as far as that, there was no telling how much further 
 we might drift, or whether the end would be a 
 smashed-up wreck amongst the rocks. But suddenly, 
 as though by chance, we slipped into a patch of quiet 
 water — where gentle ripples lapped the scattered 
 boulders on the sand. There was no time to be lost. 
 In another minute it would be too late. We were 
 rapidly floating past our haven of refuge, when one 
 of the boatmen leapt with marvellous agility — it was 
 a wonderful athletic feat — from the deck of the 
 moving junk to the top of a projecting rock. He 
 had a rope with him, which with quick dexterity he 
 wound around and around a jutting-out boulder, 
 and the situation was saved, but much time had been 
 lost. We had to wait patiently until our trackers 
 came back to tow us up the river again ; and this 
 
 124 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 time the dragon, sleepy after his feast of rice, left 
 us to ascend the rapid in peace. 
 
 The next day we made the passage of the famous 
 “ Wind-Box ” or “ Bellows ” gorge, only four miles 
 long, but one of the grandest of all the gorges. The 
 great river shrinks down to something over one hundred 
 and twenty yards in width, and cuts itself a way 
 between precipitous cliffs, many of them two thousand 
 feet in height. The tiny path used by the trackers is 
 of curious construction. Seen from the river, it 
 looks like a smooth groove worn away along the face 
 of the wall of rock about a third of the way up. 
 The lower edge of the groove forms the path, the 
 upper edge an overhanging roof. The “ Wind-Box ” 
 gorge is said to take its name from the curious square 
 holes high up in a cliff near the end of the gorge, 
 there being a certain similarity between them and 
 the bellows or “ wind-box ” (as the Chinese call it), 
 which is still to be found in every blacksmith’s forge, 
 and which, though primitive in make, is extremely 
 efficacious. Some say, however, that these same 
 square holes have been made the receptacles of coffins, 
 though why and how they were placed in this seem- 
 ingly inaccessible spot remains a mystery. At the 
 mouth of the gorge a great mass of rock called the 
 “Goosetail” rock blocks up the middle of the stream, 
 dividing it into two narrow channels. It stands 
 forty feet or more above the water ; when, however, 
 the river is high, it is completely submerged, and the 
 danger is so great that no junks are allowed to pass. 
 
 125 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 That evening we arrived at the city of Kuei Fu. 
 The sun was low in the western skies as we glided 
 slowly along the peaceful waters and squeezed our 
 boat in amongst the other boats which were moored 
 two and even three deep in a brown, tattered fringe 
 of craft along the shore. We looked up and saw the 
 town rising above us, built on a tongue of land which 
 jutted out below the blue-grey hills. The soft brown 
 and dusky whites of the walls and the roofs and the 
 contrasting poppy-red of a Confucian temple were 
 framed in by the mauve and amethyst haze of distant 
 mountains. 
 
 A very few years back Kuei Fu was not considered 
 safe for “ outside Kingdom ” travellers, and even the 
 missionaries failed in obtaining a lodgment inside 
 the city gates until 1903, when the China Inland 
 Mission opened a station there, and by now, only 
 four years later, things have so changed that the C.I.M. 
 representative, on being asked if we could not see any- 
 thing of the town, made answer that we could go 
 wherever we pleased. We were to spend the Sunday 
 at Kuei Fu, so we had a whole day before us. 
 
 A long flight of stone steps steered picturesquely 
 up through the shadowy archways of the city gates. 
 
 The narrow street beyond climbed the hill as 
 steadily as the steps. It seemed literally oozing with 
 pedestrians, with loiterers, and with beggars — and 
 all the shops appeared to be food shops of one kind 
 or another — fruit shops where oranges ready feeled 
 were offered for sale (the peel, by the way, is sold to 
 
 126 
 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the druggists), vegetable shops, grain shops, tea shops, 
 restaurants, and, saddest of sad sights, in the hollows 
 under the brick stoves, where food was being cooked, 
 beggars had thrust in as much of themselves as there 
 was room for, seeking warmth. They looked mere 
 bundles of rags. Sometimes a face was visible, 
 swollen with leprosy, or a head covered with sores ; 
 sometimes the bundles lay motionless, with strange 
 rigidity. One shuddered to think that possibly all 
 that now remained was a corpse ! 
 
 At the end of the street another flight of steps 
 led up to the high grey walls and gracefully curved 
 roofs of the palace, the gardens of which are re- 
 nowned for their beauty. Our friends kindly offered 
 to take us to call on the owners. There are two 
 palaces, an old and a new, belonging to the same family, 
 and over them hangs the shadow of past tragedy. 
 In the reign of terror of 1900 the head of the house, 
 a high official in the province of Cheh Kiang, was 
 accused of having brought about the massacre of 
 four missionaries and a little child and sentenced to 
 death. He swallowed “ gold,” * as the saying goes, 
 and died by his own hand. The widowed Tai Tai 
 retired into the old palace, as it is called, and the 
 
 * I am told that this “ gold ” is the poisonous blood of some bird 
 called “jin,” the same sound though not the same character as gold, 
 and that all officials carry it about with them in tiny pockets at the end 
 of the bands at the back of official coats, which bands are called re- 
 spectively “ filial ” and “ loyal,” representing the idea that one is 
 always ready to take one’s own life should one’s emperor or one’s 
 father so command. 
 
 127 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 “ new palace,” with its famous gardens, was given 
 to a relative of her dead husband. Strangely enough, 
 the Tai Tai and her family, instead of feeling 
 any antagonism towards foreigners, are unusually 
 kindly disposed towards them. They evidently 
 belong to that somewhat small section of better- 
 class Chinese who approve not only of Western 
 learning, but of Westerners themselves. 
 
 We naturally expected a good deal of grandeur 
 in this palatial home ; but here, as elsewhere, we 
 were confronted by the same strange mixture of 
 grandeur and squalor. 
 
 At the great gates a half-bred dog stood on the 
 defensive. A call brought the gate-keeper on the 
 scene — a shabby, dishevelled-looking individual, who 
 signed to us to advance. An untidily dressed girl in 
 faded blue cotton trousers and tunic, probably a 
 slave-girl, shot round a corner and escorted us by 
 a series of right-angles through various paved court- 
 yards to the guest-hall, a palatial room, with the 
 usual long double line of square chairs, alternating 
 with square tea-tables, ending in the seats of honour at 
 either extremity of a larger table raised on a kind of 
 da'fs, under a wall decorated stiffly with scrolls. Re- 
 membering Chinese etiquette, we were careful to 
 sit on the seats near the door while waiting for the 
 Tai Tai to enter. To be strictly within the bounds 
 of Chinese etiquette, merely the ladies of the party 
 should have come to call on the Tai Tai, whereas 
 we had arrived “ en masse,” and this, of course, made 
 
 128 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 it possible for our hostess’s brother-in-law to appear 
 on the scene. He flashed across the sombre guest-hall 
 in a magnificent pale violet brocade coat, lined with 
 white fur, and was followed a moment or two later 
 by the Tai Tai, who hobbled in on feet about three 
 inches long, shod in pale blue silk shoes, a meek little 
 woman, with pallid face and projecting, dark eyes, 
 her tunic and trousers of dusky purple, and round 
 her head a closely fitting piece of black crepe studded 
 with jewels and green jade. 
 
 Behind her came a large, heavily made girl, about 
 fifteen or so, with unbound feet arrayed in clumsy 
 velvet boots. Her fat, dull face was thickly powdered 
 and heavily rouged ; the rouge was not put on in 
 imitation of nature, but rather the reverse, on the 
 eyelids, for instance, and the chin, and in the centre 
 of the lips a brilliant scarlet dab, round like a cherry, 
 gave the strangest expression to the mouth. She 
 divided her attention between sucking a sweetmeat 
 and gazing at the foreigners. In her spare hand she 
 held an orange wrapped in a dingy pocket-handker- 
 chief ; but a handkerchief in any shape or form is a 
 proud possession — in China. 
 
 Everybody was introduced, but conversation hung 
 fire. I endeavoured to awaken some interest in the 
 mind of the daughter of the house, though my 
 halting questions in broken Chinese failed, as far as 
 I could tell, to make much impression. I discovered 
 later on, however, that I had inspired a distinct 
 feeling of affection, the first visible sign of which 
 k 129 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 was the presentation of the orange in the hand- 
 kerchief. It was a relief to move on into the gardens. 
 Our host led the way, and finding his fur-lined 
 brocade a little warm, divested himself thereof, dis- 
 playing an inner coat of flowered silk, with an 
 apple-green girdle, and a massive gold watch-chain 
 of Western manufacture. In his freedom of manner 
 and disregard of ceremony he would have shocked 
 a Celestial of the old school. Chinese formality was 
 evidently on the wane in this Kuei Fu palace, and 
 Western manners had not been adopted in its place. 
 The lack of both the one and the other brought 
 about some rather ludicrous situations. 
 
 The Tai Tai with her maimed feet kept in the 
 background — walking was evidently a great difficulty 
 to her. A little slave-girl followed close behind, who 
 every now and then held out a water tobacco pipe, 
 from which her mistress took a whiff, but so rapidly 
 that the interruption was hardly noticeable. The 
 daughter of the house put her arm in mine and 
 stroked my hand, and in this affectionate attitude 
 she remained through most of the afternoon. Our 
 host flashed restlessly about like a fidgety dragon- 
 fly. He possessed a few words of English and kept 
 urging the loiterers to “ come by him.” 
 
 We dived round dark corners and along paved 
 passages, and took a short cut to the new palace by 
 the back regions of the old. A strange air of neglect 
 and sadness hung over the precincts. Now and again 
 a solitary figure (probably that of a servant) lurked 
 
 130 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in a shadowy corner, and watched us furtively. 
 Suddenly we dipped into an old Norman hall, or 
 the Chinese equivalent. It was dark and disused, 
 and from the presence of cooking stoves and culinary 
 utensils, suggested the palace kitchen. A subway 
 led from these deserted regions up a steep incline 
 out into a courtyard surrounded by neglected build- 
 ings, the entire centre of which was one huge pond 
 covered with lotus plants. One more narrow passage- 
 way brought us to the garden, a garden as unlike 
 our home gardens as the palace was unlike our home 
 palaces. Its chief beauty lay in its glorious situation 
 — terrace above terrace, on the steep hillside, looking 
 down through a veil of trees, across the great river 
 to the shadowy blue mountains, while the roof-tops 
 of the beggar-haunted town were below us in the 
 depths, and blotted out. 
 
 As to flower-beds and velvet lawns, they were 
 practically non-existent. Moss-grown paths and 
 untidy shrubberies led by zigzags up to the highest 
 terraces and lost themselves amongst the trees — 
 and the trees were, some of them, very beautiful. 
 A red monthly rose was still in flower, and doubtless 
 in early spring or summer, roses, clematis, honey- 
 suckles, and azaleas would make a goodly show of 
 blossom amongst the palms and the evergreens. 
 
 Our new friends seemed loth to say good-bye. 
 The Tai Tai, moreover, was anxious to seize this 
 opportunity of consulting a Western physician. Since 
 her husband’s death she had contracted the opium 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 habit, and was anxious and willing to give it up. 
 Thus it came about that the whole party — the Tai 
 Tai, the gentleman of the violet brocade, and the 
 girl — expressed a wish to visit us that evening on our 
 house-boat ; and the latter, clinging to me with a 
 caressing hand, accompanied us on foot, whilst the 
 Tai Tai followed a little later in a sedan-chair. 
 
 You will remember the limited space we had to offer ; 
 there were not even chairs enough to go round. The 
 Tai Tai and the girl sat in a state of mute passivity, 
 looking on. Whether they were interested did not 
 appear until the happy thought suggested itself to 
 show them our cabin. Whereupon their eyes lit up 
 with pleasure. Side by side they sat upon my bed, 
 keenly scrutinising our “ barbaric ” tooth-brushes, 
 soap-dishes, hand-mirrors, and so forth. 
 
 In the midst of proceedings great hampers of 
 oranges and native cakes were brought in by the 
 palace servants, by way of an offering, which Mrs. 
 
 P , in correct Chinese style, accepted by refusing. 
 
 She “ could not venture,” “ did not dare,” to take 
 them, etc., etc. All we could think of on the spur 
 of the moment to give back in return was a packet 
 of butter-scotch, which was, however, much approved 
 of. Our supper-time came and went, the evening 
 drew on, the gentleman of the violet brocade glanced 
 at his watch and said, “ it was still early in the ex- 
 treme.” The primary cause of the visit — the medical 
 consultation — in accordance with true Chinese eti- 
 quette, was postponed till the very end, and then 
 
 132 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 merely alluded to as a thing of absolutely no im- 
 portance. Under the circumstances, it would prob- 
 ably have been highly incorrect to take any notice of 
 the patient herself. The advice given was entrusted 
 to her brother-in-law. The Tai Tai sat by humbly 
 like a child who should be seen and not heard. She 
 looked ill, and was said to be taking an ounce of opium 
 a day, and her poor discoloured teeth were loose in 
 their sockets. 
 
 As our guests finally took their departure, they 
 gave me a pressing invitation to go and stay with 
 them in their country house, on my way down the 
 river in the spring. Personally I wished I could, 
 but the idea was not encouraged. 
 
 The next morning we started in the cold grey 
 dawn ; an east wind penetrated through the thin 
 wooden partition and shivered round our beds. 
 Huddled under our wadded quilts we sang the song 
 of the sluggard, “ They have roused me too early, 
 I'll slumber again,” when the boat, fighting through 
 some rough water, heaved over heavily and with a 
 crash came trembling to a standstill. 
 
 “ Get up as quickly as ever you can,” came the 
 order ; “ we are on the rocks ! ” 
 
 We tumbled into the first clothes we could find 
 and stood ready for developments. The “ mother-in 
 law’s ” strident tones sounded shrilly above all else ; 
 but the imperturbable cook went on steadily sweeping 
 the floor of the saloon cabin. The “ lao-pan ” was 
 shouting himself hoarse, while a crowd of boatmen 
 
 *33 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 stood forcing a heavy wooden post under the boat, 
 to raise it from the rocks on which it was impaled. 
 Luckily we were close to the shore, but the water 
 was swirling past us, a mass of bubbling foam. A 
 sudden subsidence of voices gave the signal that we 
 were free again, but the water had flooded the bows, 
 drenching the trackers’ bedding and some of the 
 cargo and making havoc of the “ kitchen.” There 
 was evidently a large hole, but nobody seemed a bit 
 concerned. The captain’s wife brought some white 
 wax and cotton wool and a piece of leather, the pilot 
 sawed off a bit of wood from a plank, and all damage 
 was soon repaired ! Occasionally boiled rice is re- 
 sorted to for stopping up holes, and with marked 
 success ! 
 
 On the 1 8 th December we came through the new 
 rapid, one of the most dangerous at low water, and 
 formed only twelve years ago by the subsidence of 
 the hillside. At first it was absolutely impassable. 
 Then the assistance of foreign engineers was called 
 in. Their blasting operations made navigation pos- 
 sible, but the rapid is still looked upon with dread, 
 and sometimes as many as seven ropes are put out 
 from one solitary boat and many extra trackers 
 engaged. The approach in itself was exciting. A 
 corner in a rough swirling current must be safely 
 rounded and a dash made for the shore, but so 
 neatly as to stop short of the rocks. Our boat achieved 
 the feat successfully, but the big cargo junk behind, 
 neglecting to take in its sweep in time, snapped it 
 
 i34 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in two on the rocks. An old peasant woman busy 
 at her washing hardly more than a foot away did not 
 even look up, but went on steadily with her work, 
 whilst the onlookers stood petrified, thinking she 
 must inevitably be done to death by the advancing 
 boat. So much for Chinese imperturbability ! 
 
 As we got further west the vegetation altered 
 somewhat. Bright green patches on the hillside 
 announced sugar-cane plantations, and bamboos — 
 green and golden, plumed and feathered — were of 
 more luxuriant growth than ever. High up on the 
 tops of the hills we were shown the “ gai-tsl,” walled 
 enclosures used in the old days of internal warfare 
 as cities of refuge — now half overgrown and wholly 
 neglected. 
 
 On the 20th we reached Wanhsien, “ The Myriad 
 City,” and as the most dangerous part of the river 
 journey had been accomplished, our official life- 
 boat took its departure. After that the Hsien magis- 
 trate sent us Yamen soldiers. We changed them at 
 every fresh prefecture. They lived on board, and 
 spent their time squatting on the deck, often half 
 asleep. 
 
 When I think of Wanhsien I see myself being 
 carried in a sedan-chair up interminable flights of 
 slimy stone steps, through a fog-bound city, past 
 miserable riverside hovels, clinging to sand and rock 
 and banks of crumbling earth, along narrow streets, 
 where all was damp, and dank, and dark, and dreary. 
 A creek from the great river slices the town in half, 
 
 135 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and over it a beautiful bridge, one lofty stone arch 
 crowned by a long, low building and climbed by two 
 flights of stone steps, forms one of the most picturesque 
 features of Wanhsien. Our chair-bearers avoided the 
 bridge and crossed the creek lower down. It was 
 comparatively dry, but at certain seasons in the year 
 is a rushing torrent. As we, or rather our chair- 
 bearers, climbed steadily up through the piled-up 
 streets of the city, we literally shivered with cold, 
 and the wet fog wrapped us round. 
 
 Then suddenly came a transformation scene. The 
 first rays of the sun had penetrated the fog and shone 
 on the gold characters inscribed on the doorpost 
 of the great gates open to receive us. The chair- 
 bearers set down the chairs in a large and well-kept 
 courtyard, beautifully paved and surrounded by 
 picturesque verandahed buildings with upper stories, 
 latticed fretwork and balconies, and throughout that 
 air of order and cleanliness so often lacking in this 
 land of the Celestials. But the biggest surprise was 
 yet to come. A flight of broad steps led us to 
 a spacious foreign house built on a higher level, 
 and from the cold grasp of the fog we entered a 
 cosy “ English ” drawing-room, scented by white 
 and yellow jonquils, and warmed our icy hands at 
 a blazing “ English ” fire. You will have guessed, 
 of course, that we had found our way into the hos- 
 pitable home of the China Inland Missionaries. They 
 made us warmly welcome, and later on, when the 
 sunshine had melted down the fog, we were shown 
 
 136 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 round the Mission compound, the church and dis- 
 pensary, the opium refuge, the guest-hall, and so 
 forth. In every detail all was spruce and well kept. 
 This in itself must be a good object-lesson to the 
 Chinese, who, with their characteristic disregard 
 of comfort, and seeing no pecuniary advantage to 
 be gained by a clean and well-ordered house, adopt 
 a “ laisser aller ” policy in these matters, but are 
 ready enough to appreciate order and cleanliness 
 when it is brought before them. The “Myriad City” 
 is beautifully situated, piled up terrace upon terrace 
 on the banks of the great river, and watched over by 
 the mountains — richly wooded mountains, hillsides 
 embowered in green — oranges, pomegranates, bam- 
 boos, and cypress trees (the cypress wood, they say, 
 is much in request for building the junks, as it is 
 both strong and pliable). In the spring and early 
 summer the floral display must be exquisite. Even 
 when we were there in December, we gathered our- 
 selves a handful of wild flowers in the vegetable 
 fields above the Mission compound. 
 
 On starting back for the boat we requested to 
 “ do some shopping ” ; but our new friends looked 
 askance. All through the years of their residence in 
 the place they had never done such a thing in the 
 streets of Wanhsien, and in this land of ceremony 
 and etiquette such a performance would be thought 
 highly unseemly for a woman of a certain rank. 
 W e, however, were in “ barbaric ” English clothing, 
 and would be recognised at once as eccentric “ out- 
 
 137 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 side Kingdom ” folk, and so, finally, the point was 
 yielded in our favour, provided that we took with 
 us a serving woman to act as chaperon and make the 
 actual purchases. 
 
 We had bought a few odds and ends, amongst 
 them a brown glazed flower vase, which turned out 
 to be a native lamp, when we realised that the street 
 was blocked from end to end with a dense crowd 
 of many hundreds who had collected in our honour. 
 It seemed, therefore, advisable to cut short the ex- 
 pedition, and descending the long flights of mud- 
 stained steps, we were soon back in our friendly 
 boat. 
 
 The next morning saw us on our way again — 
 delayed somewhat by head winds and more fog, 
 but the trackers worked on cheerfully. Never have 
 I seen any people so cheerful, even when fighting 
 against “ long odds,” as the Chinese. It seems to 
 help them to chant while they work. The harder 
 the work, the louder the chanting. One would 
 have thought of it as a hindrance, and a waste of 
 breath wanted for other purposes, but with them this 
 does not seem to be the case. There is something 
 peculiarly weird and delightful about this song of 
 the Yangtse boatmen on this up-river journey. (The 
 down-river song is different and less marked.) It 
 swings from the treble to the bass, with a leap back 
 to rippling heights and down to the depths, and on 
 again, with never a moment’s pause, as they work 
 the oars backwards and forwards. Often and often 
 
 • 38 
 
TRACKERS PULLING A BOAT UR THE RAPIDS 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 have those who have listened tried to catch the notes, 
 but they are strangely elusive, and to Western 
 voices seem almost unproducible. Some say this is 
 because we do not open our mouths wide enough ! 
 At Ta Chihko, our next stop after Wanhsien, 
 we spent a Sunday. It was only a big village — 
 built on either side of a giant stone staircase. The 
 little brown houses formed the banisters, and ascend- 
 ing and descending were blue-garbed peasants. Along 
 the shore on a stony beach, men were seeking for 
 gold, and finding it, too, though I believe in very 
 small quantities. Their implements were primitive 
 enough — merely baskets on wooden stands, which 
 see-sawed backwards and forwards, and in them the 
 stones were shaken to and fro and the gold dust 
 sifted out. 
 
 Christmas Day found us moored outside the town 
 of Chung Cheo, celebrating Christmas in approved 
 English fashion. The evening before we had made 
 a raid on a Chinese farm in quest of a Christmas tree. 
 The buffaloes stared at us in mild astonishment, and 
 a dog barred the way, growling furiously. For- 
 tunately the farmer’s wife came to the rescue. We 
 had seen a well-grown cedar in the garden, and prof- 
 fered our request in broken Chinese for a bough or 
 two, emphasising the words with a brass coin (worth 
 about a farthing). She brought forth a hatchet and 
 proceeded to lop off bough after bough. In spite of our 
 vigorous protests that we had “keo-la” (“enough”) 
 she went on lopping ! We took all we could carry 
 
 139 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and beat a retreat, pursued by the dog. The last 
 we saw of our generous friend was of a picturesque 
 figure in blue calico standing on the terrace above 
 us, the hatchet in her hand and a friendly smile 
 upon her weather-beaten face. We decorated our 
 dining -cabin with cedar boughs and red (paper) 
 camellias in lack of holly-berries, and put persimmons 
 and pumelo juice into the plum pudding to make up 
 for some of the missing ingredients. 
 
 Just about Christmas time we were pursued by 
 rumours of brigands. A boat ahead of us had been 
 attacked, so report went, and now and again we 
 passed rocks whereon large white characters were 
 engraved, which ran as follows : “ River way not 
 quiet ; moor early at a wharf.” Mrs. P. told us of 
 their own narrow escape from brigands a few years 
 ago. About forty armed men attacked a mandarin’s 
 boat, thinking it belonged to the foreigners, who, 
 however, had been unexpectedly delayed. The 
 robbers loaded themselves with booty and carried 
 off one of the ladies of the mandarin’s household ! 
 They took the stolen goods and put them up for 
 auction at a town in the neighbourhood, through 
 which the mandarin himself happened to be passing : 
 he was travelling overland in order to save time. 
 Recognising his wife’s clothes, he made enquiries, 
 and was able to get on the track of the brigand 
 troop. 
 
 But the most desperate, perhaps, of all the brigands 
 of the upper Yangtse country was the famous Yu 
 
 140 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Mantst, who, at the head of an army of banditti, 
 about ten years ago, held sway in Szechuan. After 
 a reign of terror the Imperial troops succeeded in 
 effecting his capture. Afraid, however, to put an 
 end to the existence of so powerful a personage, 
 they resorted to a unique plan of restoring the 
 countryside to peace by turning the brigand chief 
 into a high official ! There was only one condition, 
 viz. that he should keep to his own district, and if 
 found trespassing in the domain of others, should 
 pay the penalty of death. For some long time Yu 
 Mants'i lived an exemplary life, and fulfilled his 
 official duties with great success and credit to his 
 ruling powers ; but the day came, alas ! when, grow- 
 ing tired of so limited a sphere, he strayed “ out of 
 bounds,” and came to an untimely end. 
 
 Hardly a day passes without seeing the remains 
 of a wreck. To-day it was a half-sunk cargo boat. 
 Men on board were busily hauling out goods from 
 the hold, and on the shore two forlorn little matting- 
 covered shelters were pitched amidst the wreckage. 
 On another occasion the banks were white with cotton 
 wool, saved from a watery grave and drying in the 
 sun. We have just come through a dangerous stretch 
 of river. Two local pilots were taken on board to 
 get us safely past. The Yangtse had widened out 
 enormously, and to every side of us formidable 
 reefs of rock lay like great grey porpoises above the 
 rushing, foaming water. We marvelled at the skill 
 with which our lumbering house-boat was steered 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 successfully through the narrow channels between 
 the rocks. 
 
 On the 29th December we passed by Feng Tu city. 
 There is a famous temple there said to be built over 
 the main entrance of the Buddhist hells. Often are 
 the cries of the spirits in torment to be heard in the 
 precincts, and the priests do a thriving trade in the 
 sale of passports for Hades ! There are many kinds 
 of these passports, and the ones from Feng Tu are 
 considered the best. All we could see, looking up 
 from the river, was a building half hidden by trees 
 at the top of the steep rocky hill, in which, doubtless, 
 there are many caves and inhabitants of caves. 
 
 The last day of the year was our first wet day for 
 a whole month. In spite of the drenching rain, 
 however, our boatmen kept on cheerily rowing, 
 chanting, tracking, until at last, drenched through to 
 the skin, they put up their matting shelter for the 
 night and “ turned in.” 
 
 A few more days should bring us to the end of our 
 journey, but it is no use asking the captain for a date. 
 To give the exact number of “ li ” to the next place 
 is looked upon as unlucky, and will mean that we shall 
 never get there at all, or only after some mishap. 
 The weather has grown wintry, the scenery is no 
 longer as beautiful as it was ; the river has widened 
 out considerably, and the mountains have dwindled in 
 size. We pass unassuming little towns of one-storied 
 buildings, huddled together round grand stone bridges. 
 There is a saying that to build a bridge and repair a 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 road in this world are two excellent ways of accumu- 
 lating merit in the next. One truly magnificent 
 bridge at Chung Cheo was demolished by floods 
 a few years ago. The mandarin, seeing the havoc 
 caused by the river, grew indignant with the Buddhist 
 priests for being unable to stop the ravages of the 
 water. He ordered them to go out to the falling 
 bridge and pray for help. They were obliged to 
 comply, and every one of them was speedily swept 
 away and drowned ! 
 
 To-day we passed Chang Sheo — the last import- 
 ant town before Ch’ong King, our final destination. 
 
 Years ago, in the grounds of a certain family 
 mansion in Chang Sheo, a stream of water welled 
 up miraculously and bathed the leaves of a wonderful 
 plant, which was said to have the power of conferring 
 the gift of longevity on its possessor. A ruling man- 
 darin of the place determined to appropriate this 
 priceless treasure for his own benefit. Hardly, how- 
 ever, had he commenced to put the plan into action 
 when the well of water dried up and the longevity 
 plant vanished from the face of the earth. 
 
 You will see that we have got into the land of 
 legends. There is a saying which runs something 
 like this : — 
 
 “ Szechuan is an evil spirit region 
 Where truth lies dead and falsehood rules the reason,” 
 
 and they tell me the sorcerer’s shops are in almost 
 every other street in the large cities. 
 
 143 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 January \th. 
 
 Our thirty-two days on the house-boat are at an 
 end. The heaped-up city of Ch’ong King lies above 
 us. First the waterside, with its fringe of masts, then 
 a layer of mat and bamboo huts built on wooden 
 legs, above them strata on strata of walls above walls 
 and roofs above roofs, piled up in inextricable con- 
 fusion, and over all a veil of mist, white and clinging — 
 a likely haunt this for sorcerers and magicians. 
 
 But no more for the present. I will get this ready 
 for the first post-boat that goes. In any case, it will 
 take two months or more to get to you. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 •44 
 
Ch’ong King, 
 
 January , 1908. 
 
 There is a saying in Szechuan that the “ dogs 
 bark when they see the sun,” and the story goes that 
 a small child in this house came running in one un- 
 usually bright morning to ask what “ that queer 
 thing was up in the sky.” Certainly in winter time 
 Ch’ong King is a city of the mist. Often for six 
 weeks at a stretch the sun is practically non-existent ; 
 on other occasions it shines through the mist, but 
 seldom dispels it. If in the morning the fog is so 
 thick that the surroundings are blotted out, there is 
 some chance of a sight of the hills across the river 
 before the day is over ; if, on the contrary, the hills 
 are visible in the early morning, it is a sure sign that 
 rain is on its way. 
 
 We are once more enjoying home comforts, in 
 spite of the fact that we are about one thousand six 
 hundred miles in the interior of China. Mr. and 
 Mrs. B., of the China Inland Mission, have kindly 
 invited us to stay with them. Their house — a sub- 
 stantial foreign house — is situated on one of the higher 
 levels of this town of many layers, and looks down on 
 a sea of roofs built tier above tier on the steep banks 
 of the river. The cellar-like buildings of the “ lower 
 l 14s 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 regions,” through which we were carried in our sedan- 
 chairs the day of our arrival, left a dismal impression 
 on my mind. It was a nightmare ride. From the 
 waterside we were borne up long flights of wet, greasy 
 steps, black with mud ; then the steps turned into 
 steep, uphill alley-ways — one could hardly call them 
 streets — between dark, dank dwellings, with mud 
 floors and windowless walls, and yawning black holes 
 for entrances — more like caverns than houses, and only 
 dignified by the name of human habitations because, 
 peering into them as we passed, we could see impassive 
 faces peering back at us, and blue-garbed figures 
 moving in the shadows as they came forward to look 
 at the “ strange barbarians.” The alley-ways turned 
 into steps again, and as we mounted higher and higher 
 the streets grew cleaner, and shops took the place of 
 the caverns. 
 
 At a sharp corner a lamp-post, enormously high, 
 towering forty feet or so above the roofs of the houses, 
 attracted our attention ; it was meant not for us, 
 but for the “ world invisible,” to guide “ wandering 
 souls ” back to their homes ! You will wonder how 
 they ever managed to get lost. One idea seems to be 
 that when a person is very ill, lying, perhaps, in a state 
 of unconsciousness, he has “ lost his soul ” for the 
 time being ; and there are many ways, they tell me, 
 of bringing it back, all of them just about as sensible 
 as that of the “ sky-lamp.” 
 
 It is astonishing how much trouble is taken to keep 
 away the evil spirits. Would you have thought a 
 
 146 
 
A TYPICAL STREET- 
 
 RIVERSIDE HOUSES AT CH ONG KING 
 
 Page 146 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 little mirror over the door would have been of much 
 use ? It is supposed, however, to be exceedingly 
 efficacious, especially when the characters meaning 
 “ one good ” are inscribed across the glass. There is 
 a saying, “ One good deed will cancel a thousand evil 
 deeds,” and demons, presumably, do not feel at home 
 in the houses of those who have “ cancelled their evil 
 deeds ” (or say that they have done so, which ap- 
 parently comes to the same thing). Besides which, 
 the sight of their own evil faces in the mirror is usually 
 enough to frighten them away ! Other people put 
 a kind of eel-trap over any specially unlucky house. 
 It is made of bamboo, and is so contrived that the 
 demon, having once got in, cannot get out again. 
 
 But this city of “ demon-haunted ” streets, piled up 
 by the riverside, is, as you know, an open treaty port 
 and one of the most important commercial centres 
 in the west of China. It seems to export most things, 
 from opium to coal, from silk to bristles, from salt to 
 wax, from drugs to feathers, and, as far as I can make 
 out, it does not get much from foreign lands instead, 
 except Indian yarn and Lancashire cotton. 
 
 If the streets and the alley-ways are gloomy in the 
 daylight, at night-time they are weird tunnels of 
 mystery. Everyone carries his own oil-paper lantern. 
 They look like brilliant red-and-gold fireflies, flashing 
 here and there. The pavements are narrow, hardly 
 more than six feet across, and often the curved roofs 
 of the houses almost meet overhead. 
 
 Borne along in my sedan-chair, I feel as though I 
 
 i47 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 were being carried through the mysterious alley-ways 
 of some underground world. A few years ago an 
 attempt to provide street lights was made by the 
 authorities, but the beggars stole all the lamfs. This 
 was, perhaps, hardly surprising in a town where there 
 are no police. It seems there was another attempt 
 made to provide police as well as lamps, though, pre- 
 sumably, not at the same time. The police, being 
 absolutely untrained, proved of no use whatever. 
 At the present date, however, a fresh force is under- 
 going special training and is expected to appear on 
 the scene before long. Meanwhile one is astonished 
 that the streets are as orderly as they are, considering 
 the dense crowds of pedestrians always coming and 
 going. 
 
 A few weeks ago the place swarmed with beggars 
 of all degrees in every state of decay. Beggars seem 
 to me one of the saddest sights in the “ Celestial 
 Land.” Begging is a legitimate profession, and in 
 order to qualify for the most lucrative posts, all 
 measures are resorted to. We were told of a case in 
 which a man had had his legs broken as a child and 
 turned back over the shoulders. One ankle was so 
 manipulated as to admit of the foot being twisted 
 round and round independently of the leg. The 
 poor, tortured owner crept round the streets as best 
 he could, and showed off to an inquisitive audience, 
 by means of a piece of string, the wonders of the 
 moving foot. 
 
 In many places the residents pay a tax to the chief 
 
 148 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 of the beggars to secure peace ; people who refuse 
 to do this may be subjected to untold annoyance. 
 The beggars gather in their hundreds — I had almost 
 said thousands — and clamour as one man until they 
 have received that which they consider their due. 
 
 Just outside the upper gates of the city the officials, 
 following the lead of their colleagues in the capital 
 of the province, have built a large and substantial 
 building, or set of buildings, in walled-in grounds, in 
 which all the beggars of Ch’ong King — or all, at least, 
 who could be discovered — are now collected, and 
 are divided, so they tell us, into two classes : — 
 
 1. Those who can work and will are well fed. 
 
 2. Those who can work and won't are badly fed. 
 For the sick ones, of course, especial provision is 
 made. 
 
 At the present time Ch’ong King is the fortunate 
 possessor of a very able Hsien magistrate. Owing to 
 his strenuous efforts the town has been swept of most 
 of its opium dens, as well as of its beggars. People 
 live in a good deal of awe of him ; he has an uncom- 
 fortable way of looking into things with his own eyes 
 and is not easy to hoodwink. Every now and again 
 he rides out in state with his servants and military 
 escort, and enters some place where he has business 
 to transact. His retinue waits outside for him to 
 reappear ; but time goes on and there is no sign of 
 him. Meanwhile this energetic official has changed 
 his grand silk clothing for the humble attire of a 
 coolie, and has gone home by some back way, dropping 
 
 149 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in on unsuspecting citizens, in order to see if sundry- 
 commands given in the past have been obeyed. 
 
 “ Who are you ? What business is it of yours ? ” 
 they ask indignantly of the strangely well-informed 
 but most inquisitive coolie. 
 
 “ I am the ‘ Pa Hsien,’ ” comes the answer in tones 
 that are unmistakable. 
 
 Thanks in great measure to the energies of the 
 “ Pa Hsien,” opium cultivation in the district round 
 Ch’ong King is rapidly being put a stop to. Our host 
 tells us of great tracts of country which a year or two 
 ago were ablaze with poppies — white, mauve, and 
 pink — and now not a vestige of the plant will be 
 found there. In various places along the banks of 
 the river we have noticed fields in which vegetables 
 and poppies are growing side by side, the practical 
 Chinese having no doubt thought to himself that 
 supposing the authorities ordered the poppies to be 
 destroyed, he would at least have the vegetable crop 
 left to go on with. 
 
 This morning, for the first time since our arrival 
 here, the sunshine has broken through the mist. 
 It is like a warm spring day in England, and Deborah 
 and I started forth for a long walk amongst the 
 graves. It sounds a gruesome place to choose, but we 
 could not very well help ourselves. I will explain 
 why. Ch’ong King is a kind of peninsula, built 
 on a tongue of rock, or rather a narrow, rocky hill 
 wedged in between two rivers, the Yangtse and the 
 Kia Ling. There is only one land gate to the city, 
 
 150 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and that gate leads out down flights of steps past a 
 handful of tiny shops and houses to the “ city of the 
 dead.” 
 
 Down in a dell stands the newly erected beggars’ 
 home, and around and beyond for several miles lie 
 the grass-grown mounds of many generations of 
 graves. 
 
 We walked and we walked along the main road to 
 Chentu between the graves. There was a great deal 
 of traffic, coming and going — men carrying burdens, 
 men carrying sedan-chairs, men carrying only them- 
 selves, or sitting on the backs of donkeys or minute, 
 emaciated ponies, almost hiding the creatures from 
 view with their voluminous garments and saddle- 
 bags. 
 
 At last we arrived at a tiny village, with streets so 
 narrow and houses so crowded and overhanging that 
 the sunlight barely squeezed through at all, and as 
 we stood for a moment looking round, a strange burden 
 was borne past us on a litter. We caught sight of a 
 pair of little feet in daintily embroidered shoes peep- 
 ing out from beneath a coverlet of gorgeous silk, and 
 on the top of the coverlet a hale and hearty cock of 
 pale plumage stood at ease surveying the scene. 
 There was something suspiciously stiff about the atti- 
 tude of the feet, something curiously rigid about the 
 well-dressed head of the recumbent owner, and, 
 looking again, we realised that the men who stepped 
 along so briskly through this indifferent crowd were 
 bearing a dead burden. The cock, which should have 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 been a white cock, was in attendance in order to lead 
 the spirit in the right direction. Eventually the bird 
 will be killed and the coffin sprinkled with its “ sacred ” 
 blood. The dead girl had been dressed, of course, 
 in her best clothes, according to approved custom, 
 and probably in an odd number of garments, as an 
 even number is considered unlucky and might entail 
 the death of another member of the family. There 
 is only one thing tabooed, namely, fur , for fear that 
 the wearer in the next world may be transformed into 
 an animal ! 
 
 On our way back, after re-entering the land gate 
 of the city, we turned off on to an open stretch of 
 levelled ground, called the “ Parade Ground,” sur- 
 rounded on two sides by the city wall, from whence 
 one can obtain one of the best views of Ch’ong King 
 — the tangled mass of shabby brown roofs on the 
 verge of toppling into the great river below, the grave- 
 grown hills to the north, the grave-grown hills to 
 the west, and to the east the Kia Ling River flowing 
 on towards the Yangtse. 
 
 The river bed is partly sand, partly water, at this 
 time of the year, and already the thrifty Celestial 
 has planted the sand out in vegetable crops ! No 
 place is too poor, no hill-slope too inaccessible, no 
 river bed too shifting, no trouble too great for Chinese 
 industry. As we craned our necks to get a view 
 of the outer side of the wall — we were standing on 
 the top of the wall at the time looking over the 
 edge — little patches of bright green lettuce plants 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 peered up at us from the earth that was clinging be- 
 tween the crevices of the foundation stones. 
 
 On our way down to the Mission compound more 
 signs of thrift met us at every turn. Feathers were 
 lying in their millions drying on the ground, the very 
 air seemed disagreeably full of feather down. Cotton 
 cloth, freshly dried, was hanging from a line, and the 
 women at the doors of their hovel-like houses were 
 busy pasting strips of rag of every sort and every 
 colour on stiff bits of sandy brown paper. The paper 
 was in lengths of about a foot and a half square, and 
 each was covered from end to end with the scraps of 
 coloured rag. They were hung on lines to dry, and 
 laid out on flat stones for the same purpose. 
 
 “ These piece things call what ? ” we asked. 
 
 And what do you think they were ? Why, the 
 embryo soles of native shoes. Thus when a garment 
 becomes too old to wear any longer — although the 
 Chinese women mend their garments so superbly 
 that their existence as garments is often indefinitely 
 prolonged — but when the day does arrive when 
 they are finally torn up, there is no question of 
 throwing away the rags, they are merely made into 
 shoe soles . 
 
 It is said that Jews are almost unknown in China — 
 save for a remnant of the race at Kai Feng Fu — and 
 the reason given is that they have never been able to 
 compete with the Chinese in matters of thrift and 
 economy and all-round cleverness. Certainly they 
 are a wonderful people. The idea that they are down- 
 
 153 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 trodden and oppressed is quite an erroneous one. 
 The masses have great power and know how to use it. 
 Should the authorities enact a new law, or impose 
 a new tax which the people consider unjust, they 
 protest in so practical a manner that the law is either 
 repealed or modified, or the tax rescinded. I will 
 give you an instance of a case of this kind here in 
 Ch’ong King a few years ago. An enterprising official 
 passed a law to the effect that every article purchased 
 in the town and taken out of the town should pay 
 duty to the Government. In order to enforce this 
 new regulation officials were stationed at the city 
 gates to search all goods carried out. 
 
 The people protested, but to no purpose. They 
 forthwith inaugurated a plan which in a few days 
 would have had the most far-reaching results. They 
 organised a strike amongst the rice-carriers. No one 
 was permitted to bring rice into the city. Shop after 
 shop was closed, and business of almost every kind 
 was at a standstill. 
 
 The offending mandarin, in the indirect manner 
 approved of in the “ land of the Celestials,” appointed 
 a “ middle man ” to enquire into the matter, which 
 meant practically that the people had won the day. 
 The new tax was repealed, the blame fell on the 
 “middle man,” who had been installed in office for the 
 simple purpose of providing a “scapegoat,” and thereby 
 the mandarin, as the saying goes, “ saved his face ” ; 
 and the “ middle man,” of course, had none to lose, 
 as everybody knew that his share in the business was 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 purely fictitious. The people got what they wanted, 
 and the “ scapegoat ” was secretly rewarded with a 
 sum of money. 
 
 This “ saving of face ” — of appearances (though it 
 means much more than that) — is of far greater im- 
 portance to a Chinese than a Westerner. It seems 
 the keynote to much of their social life, and crops 
 up on most unexpected occasions, turning black into 
 white and vice versa. Someone was telling me, for 
 instance, of a conversation between a missionary and 
 a Chinese the other day on the subject of the “ Parable 
 of the Vineyard.” Discussing the case of the two 
 sons, the one who said he would go and didn’t go, 
 and the other who said he wouldn’t go and went, the 
 Celestial answered that the former was the more 
 commendable, as he not only “ saved his own face, 
 but his father’s ” ! 
 
 But I must not linger over these metaphysical sub- 
 jects when all our packing has still to be done for 
 the road journey of three hundred miles or so across 
 country to the city of Chentu. It is by no means 
 ordinary packing. The luggage has to be carefully 
 weighed into packages neither over nor under forty 
 “catties” * apiece. Each coolie will carry two of these 
 packages, one at either end of his bamboo pole. They 
 must balance each other evenly, otherwise he will 
 complain, and time will be lost readjusting the bur- 
 dens. If both weigh less than forty “ catties ” apiece 
 the other men will complain, and they know almost 
 * A “ catty,” one English pound and a third. 
 
 155 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 at a glance if there is any difference in weight be- 
 tween their own burdens and their neighbour’s. Our 
 cabin trunks, however, have to be arranged differently. 
 They are carried slung on a pole borne between two 
 men, and the rule to be observed in this case is not 
 twice eighty, but twice sixty. Unless you have done 
 it yourself, you would hardly believe how difficult it is 
 to get the weight exactly right. It comes a bit over 
 or a bit under all the time. As to the bedding, it is 
 first rolled in bundles, covered with stout oiled sheet- 
 ing, and then packed into gigantic hampers to be 
 slung on poles. 
 
 The food for eleven days (ten travelling days and 
 one Sunday), the plate, glass and linen, etc., are being 
 brought by Mr. and Mrs. P., of the “ L. M. S.,” 
 who are journeying to the capital at the same time 
 and have kindly permitted us to join them. They 
 will have their three servants, so we shall not need to 
 take one of our own. 
 
 It will be quite a cavalcade : four sedan-chairs with 
 three or four bearers apiece, eight or nine coolies 
 carrying luggage, three servants, one “ futeo,” * and 
 two Yamen runners or “ tsai-ren,” a kind of military 
 escort, not in the least necessary, but insisted on by 
 the officials, who feel that by taking these precautions 
 they at least will be able to say that they have done 
 their part in trying to protect the foreigner should 
 anything happen. They bear with them an official 
 letter, a species of passport, concerning us, which has 
 * Foreman over the coolies. 
 
 156 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to be shown at the Yamen at each new “ hsien ” 
 city, when the military escort is changed. 
 
 We start to-morrow morning, January 13th. 
 
 Fortunately, by this time we have been drilled into 
 chair etiquette, and know that it is only permitted 
 to a man to step over the cross-bar in front of the 
 chair in getting in or out. We, as belonging to the, 
 in China, distinctly inferior sex, must be scrupulously 
 careful to step over the side, otherwise the front chair- 
 bearer may refuse to go further, and will in any case 
 consider himself horribly injured, imagining that boils 
 will grow out on his shoulders if he touches them with 
 the cross-bar which has been so ruthlessly stepped 
 over. 
 
 I wonder how many other points of etiquette there 
 are to remember. 
 
 Let us hope we shall get to the end of the journey 
 without a scene ! 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 157 
 
On the main road between 
 
 Ch’ong King and Chentu, 
 January, 1908. 
 
 By this time we have been three days on the 
 road. It is like a journey in a dream. One feels 
 detached from one’s surroundings, as though one 
 were an idol being carried in a procession, sitting 
 propped up in a sedan-chair in solitary state, visible 
 only when the curtain in front is raised. The people 
 who pass by look at one curiously, and some of them 
 stand and gaze. 
 
 Hour after hour, mile after mile, the bearers go 
 on and on, seldom absolutely stopping, but every 
 hundred yards or so lingering for half a minute, 
 chanting out, “ Pang go ! pang go ! ” and shifting 
 from one shoulder to another the short shoulder pole 
 from which the long poles are partly hung. This 
 they do with the regularity of a machine, and mean- 
 while we are being borne along one of the famous 
 roads of China, for six hundred miles paved with stone 
 slabs laid crosswise, which change as the country 
 grows mountainous into stone steps ; but the road 
 is seldom more than five feet wide, and sometimes 
 less. 
 
 From the grave-strewn hills of Ch’ong King 
 
 *58 
 
 we 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 passed along the mountain-side and looked down 
 through a lattice of fir boughs on to a sea of mist 
 below. The mountain was a ridge between two rivers, 
 the Yangtse and Kia Ling, but we could see neither 
 the one nor the other on account of the mist. Under 
 memorial-stone arches, which cropped up suddenly 
 and unexpectedly with no apparent reason, like things 
 do in dreams, the paved road dipped downhill once 
 more and meandered amongst rice fields, where the 
 surface of the water was covered with crimson weed. 
 
 On the second day we started forth before it was 
 light, a picturesque cavalcade lit up by glowing red 
 and yellow paper lanterns. The dawn was slowly 
 breaking, a weird, mysterious twilight in a blue, 
 shadowy world. We climbed steep steps up into the 
 mountains again, past groups of plumed bamboos 
 in clusters of three, like gigantic Prince of Wales’s 
 feathers, past clumps of dark pines and rocks dripping 
 with ferns and moss, and back as by magic to the 
 interminable stretches of vegetable fields, homesteads 
 which might have been cowsheds, and buffaloes care- 
 fully shod in straw sandals. We rubbed our eyes to 
 make sure we were awake, and the next creatures that 
 came along were pigs, also carefully shod. It seemed 
 they had a long way to go to market, and this was done 
 to protect their feet ! 
 
 The road disappeared now and again through 
 arched doorways. We followed it, and found our- 
 selves not in a house, but in a street, and realised 
 that our arched door was but the covered way into 
 
 i59 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 a village. We were carried through dense, seething 
 crowds in country markets. The greater the crowd 
 the quicker we seemed to go. “ Pei-a, pei-a, pei-a ! ” * 
 shouted our chair-bearers, and swept on regardless of 
 opposition, pushing aside those who got in the way, 
 and crashing ruthlessly into the ribs of any who did 
 not move far enough aside. 
 
 The rule of the road appears to be that when a 
 chair-bearer has warned people by his shouts that he 
 is coming, he is perfectly at liberty to push over any- 
 one who still obstructs his path. Considering that 
 there is hardly standing room for all even before the 
 advent of the chairs, one marvels that they can make 
 sufficient space to let us get by. It gives one rather a 
 start sometimes to see a woman carrying a baby on 
 her back turn resolutely round and make a buffer 
 of the baby. On closer inspection, however, one 
 realises that there is “ method in her madness.” 
 The baby is rendered almost invulnerable by the 
 thick wadded garments in which it is swathed, and 
 so held that no real harm is done. 
 
 A prosperous merchant in purple silks and a wind- 
 bonnet of scarlet and turquoise-blue cloth “ danced ” 
 before us like a will-o’-the-wisp on the first day of 
 our journey. We never succeeded in catching him 
 up, and at each inn he arrived before us and took the 
 best rooms. We had to be content with the second 
 best. 
 
 Here in the west of China there arc no “ kengs ” 
 * “ Mind your back ! ” 
 
 160 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 as in the north, but wooden bedsteads, very decayed 
 in appearance, which fill up most of the available 
 space ; walls trimmed with cobwebs artistically 
 draped, and a mud floor that seemed suspiciously 
 soft under the beds ; a table one inch deep in grease 
 and dirt, on which a saucer of oil with a lighted wick 
 gave forth more smell than light. The windows were 
 of torn paper, and the barn-like roof seldom rain- 
 proof. Our oil sheeting was invaluable. We spread 
 it over the bed and turned it up against the wall 
 by way of a fortification to ward off likely excur- 
 sionists, and kept ourselves and our belongings as 
 much as possible out of reach of the marauders, 
 which fortunately at this winter season are by no 
 means as active or as numerous as they are in the 
 hot weather. 
 
 Wang San, the servant, on arrival at these inns brings 
 us hot water from the inn kitchen. There is often 
 a slightly culinary smell about it, and occasionally 
 a suspicious piece of cooked vegetable floating on the 
 top. Still, it is a boon to be able to get hot water at 
 all. But water of a sort seems plentiful enough, and 
 the inns on the high-road to Chentu are said to be some 
 of the best in China. I am getting used to them now, 
 but they were rather a shock to begin with. 
 
 The gentleman of the scarlet wind-bonnet started 
 earlier than we did the second day of our journey, 
 and was no longer there to seize on the “ shang 
 fangts't ” (the best rooms) before our arrival. 
 
 These Szechuan inns are built in a different 
 m 161 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 style to the northern ones. The entrances even now 
 take me by surprise. Suddenly, in the midst of a 
 crowded thoroughfare, the chair-bearers turn suddenly 
 to the right or the left and dip into what appears to 
 be a narrow, dark paved passage in the middle of an 
 eating-house, where culinary operations are in pro- 
 gress. It turns out to be the inn kitchen, but the 
 chair-bearers do not stop. They hurry off up the 
 paved passage, which becomes a long, narrow yard. 
 It reminds one of a stable mews, but it is the main hall 
 of the inn, and the doors opening on to it on either 
 side are the bedrooms ! At the far end, on a slightly 
 higher level, stands a small pavilion ; this is the 
 “ shang fangtsY.” It is sometimes shut off from the 
 main yard by a thin wooden partition, or a screen, 
 highly ornamental, fixed in front of the doors, which 
 helps probably to check the ingress of evil spirits. As a 
 rule there are two side rooms leading out of the 
 “ shang fangtsY,” and this suite is annexed by the 
 first guest who is willing to pay the price, which, at 
 the outside, comes to about threepence -halfpenny 
 of our money ! 
 
 A coolie, for twenty “cash” (a little less than a half- 
 penny), can even hire a quilt as well as a place to lie 
 down in for the night ! There is only one stipulation, 
 viz. that he shall first wash his feet and ankles. These 
 ablutions go on in public, and those who pass must 
 pick their way carefully through the spilt water. 
 
 The “ shang fangtsY ” is larger and loftier than 
 the other rooms, but it usually smells of pig-sties. 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The floor is of wood, the furniture consists of a 
 big table and a few substantial chairs, and a classic 
 touch is supplied by some high-flown sentiment in 
 gold characters inscribed over the doors — queer little 
 phrases, unintelligible save to a Chinese scholar, and 
 very possibly each scholar would give a different in- 
 terpretation. What would they make, I wonder, of 
 “ stars many, clouds wait,” or “ gold horse, gem 
 hall ” ? 
 
 In the courtyard of a temple we saw some of the 
 militia men belonging to the “ tuan ” (district) 
 assembling for drill. We happened to be on foot at 
 the time, and lingered for a moment to see the mili- 
 tary display. The embryo soldiers gathered round us 
 with much interest and allowed us to look at their 
 rifles. They were of the oddest, most primitive pat- 
 tern and horribly rusty. On one the trigger had been 
 securely tied down with string, but in the apparent 
 absence of any ammunition the trigger was quite as 
 serviceable one way as the other. Probably the 
 owners of the rifles have to pay for their own powder 
 and shot. This, I remember, was the case with the 
 armed police at Chefoo, with the result that none 
 was ever used. 
 
 We asked one of the riflemen his age. “ Over ten,” 
 he replied. Someone murmured sixteen, but he 
 looked about twelve ! However, even the rusty rifles 
 were an advance on the bows and arrows which were 
 still in use only a few years back (1898). In those days 
 the “ attitude of the bowman when discharging his 
 
 163 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 shaft was of more consequence than the hitting of 
 the target ! ” * 
 
 People at Chefoo used to tell us they remembered 
 the Chinese soldiers after the Chino-Japanese War 
 fleeing from a disastrous engagement, many of them 
 still carrying fans and bird-cages ! 
 
 According to one eminent authority, they have all 
 the characteristics of a good soldier, being “ sober, 
 obedient, easily managed, and very quick at learning.” 
 
 Later on there passed us a cavalcade moving 
 rapidly along the flagged path amongst the vegetable 
 fields, soldiers in the bright scarlet silk jackets slashed 
 with black velvet, their “ queues ” wound round their 
 heads, and hidden from view by a black cloth worn 
 turban fashion, guns slung across their shoulders, 
 and umbrellas of shining yellow oilskin. They were 
 guarding a long line of coolies, each of whom carried 
 two heavy wooden boxes containing silver, the con- 
 tributions, namely, granted by the various cities we 
 have passed through for the maintenance of the pro- 
 vincial army. The soldiers are paid about three 
 “ taels ” (nine shillings) a month and have to keep 
 themselves ! What would Tommy Atkins say to that ? 
 
 Coming from the opposite direction a wedding 
 procession approached, headed by men carrying the 
 wedding presents — joints of pork, fowls (still alive, 
 of course), cotton cloths, silk garments, sweetmeats on 
 trays, furniture, etc. — followed by a troop of little 
 boys waving flags, then the red bridal chair with 
 
 * Break-up of China , by Lord C. Beresford. 
 
 164 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 scarlet curtains drawn, and finally a ragged band of 
 musicians playing nasal music and beating drums. 
 
 Yesterday we did forty miles, a long stage, and 
 stopped for the night at an unusually well-kept inn, 
 “ The Fount of Spring.” To-day our men have 
 had an easy time of it to make up, but poor Deborah 
 a hard one. An hour and a half brought us to the 
 banks of the Ni River, where we embarked in boats 
 — chairs, coolies, passengers — and dropped down with 
 the swiftly flowing current between steep, wooded 
 banks from which feathery bamboos bent over to 
 catch the reflection of themselves in the water. We 
 were enjoying the change of locomotion when, alas ! 
 the sight of our coolies (several of whom were suffering 
 from scabies) reclining at ease amongst our cushions 
 in the chairs which we had temporarily deserted, and 
 which had been hoisted on to another boat, somewhat 
 overshadowed the future. 
 
 We halted for midday at one of the best inns we 
 have yet come across. Our lunch-table stood in- 
 vitingly in a courtyard in front of the guest-room, 
 shut off from the inn yard by elaborately ornamented 
 green gates, and adorned by shrubs and oleanders in 
 pots, but the meal was delayed by the disappearance 
 of Deborah. The “ futeo ” was summoned, messen- 
 gers despatched, and we waited anxiously. A card 
 had just been sent to the mandarin with a request 
 for Yamen runners to scour the streets, when the 
 
 165 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 missing chair was carried in at the gates. The men, 
 it seemed, had gone right through the town to some 
 eating-house of their own ; Deborah had been set 
 down outside to await their pleasure. The blame 
 was the “ futeo’s,” who should have kept his men 
 together. 
 
 Hardly had we commenced our repast when the 
 mandarin himself arrived post-haste to look into the 
 matter, and to apologise, if there were anything to 
 apologise for ! I only mention this to show the care 
 that is taken of “ foreigners ” in these days of com- 
 pensations and indemnities. There is a saying in 
 China that “ when the officials frown the dogs frown,” 
 and just now the frowns have changed to smiles, and 
 the dogs follow suit. 
 
 This morning five trim little soldiers instead of 
 two appeared to escort us on our way, a mark of 
 especial attention on the part of the mandarin, each 
 with blue cotton bag containing sword and umbrella 
 slung across his shoulders like golf clubs ; but we 
 contrived to get rid of three of them before we had 
 gone far, thereby reducing somewhat the expenses of 
 the day. We had a shrewd suspicion that of the re- 
 maining two, one “ sweated out ” his job to a tramp, 
 whose sole mark of office (lent for the occasion) was 
 an official hat with scarlet crown and turned-up brim ; 
 his feet were bare save for a pair of old sandals, his 
 blue cotton gown old and shrunken, and his spreading 
 
 1 66 
 
TWO MEMBERS OF OUR MILITARY AND CIVIL ESCORT 
 
 ON THE ROAD TO CHEXTU 
 
 Page 166 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 mushroom hat of straw hung down his back to make 
 room for the borrowed “ plume.” 
 
 In the afternoon we came to the salt wells. Salt, 
 as you probably know, is a Government monopoly, 
 but even so it is absurdly cheap. The wells lined the 
 banks of a river, a blue-green river the colour of an 
 Alpine lake. The apparatus was of the simplest and 
 consisted of a wheel, made of wood and bamboo, 
 worked by a buffalo, and a bamboo rope about three 
 hundred feet long to which was attached a bamboo 
 cylinder. This was lowered into the well and by 
 suction brought up the saline water, discharging it 
 into a large vat to be well boiled, then shifted into 
 other vats to be re-boiled, and so on. 
 
 To-day, Sunday, we have spent at Tsi Cheo. 
 Unfortunately, the best room was occupied on our 
 arrival yesterday by the soldiers with the silver who 
 had passed us on the way. Our bedroom has no 
 window at all, but there are holes in the roof to allow 
 for ventilation. A latticed door leading into a back- 
 yard can be opened on occasions to give light. This 
 is the first place we have come to on our road journey 
 in which we have seen any English-speaking people. 
 An American mission has a station here, and they 
 kindly invited us to spend the day at their pleasant 
 “ American ” house on the slope of the hill overlooking 
 the town. 
 
 Above us, on the top of the hill, stands a great 
 
 167 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Buddhist temple, built in memory of a water-carrier 
 who after his death was canonised, and his likeness 
 is said to be preserved in a graven image of a very 
 plebeian cast of countenance. Long, long ago, so the 
 story runs, the water-carrier spent day after day, year 
 after year, carrying water from the river below to the 
 top of the hill. He worked well and faithfully, but 
 the day came when his strength failed him. In 
 despair he sat himself down and wept, and as he 
 wept, behold, the gods showed pity. From the 
 very ground at his feet a well of clear water oozed 
 forth. It is still there, and the stone basin of it almost 
 fills the inner court of the temple. 
 
 We wandered through the deserted buildings, 
 where, on dust-clad altars, gilded gods, painted and 
 bedecked, loomed grotesquely in the shadow. In one 
 single pavilion over a hundred hideous idols, from 
 giants to Lilliputians, lined the walls. There are said 
 to be three hundred and sixty trades in China, and 
 every trade has its patron divinity. That of the 
 tailors goes by the name of “ Hien Yuen,” and we are 
 told that “ before his time men wore raiment of fig- 
 leaves ” ! The god of medicine seemed the most 
 popular in this temple of Ts'i Cheo. Parts of his 
 body had been worn into holes and shiny dents by 
 the supplicants of many generations, who had 
 rubbed their own afflicted limbs against their wooden 
 counterparts. 
 
 1 68 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 On Monday we started betimes and travelled for 
 miles through interminable vegetable fields. At our 
 midday halt the first room of the inn was adorned 
 with a coffin besides the customary furniture. 
 Whether occupied or not we lacked the courage to 
 discover. Fortunately there was no question of 
 spending the night inside it. 
 
 I recollect our host in Peking telling us that he 
 arrived at his destination too late one day to find any 
 sleeping room in the inn. The landlord, as a supreme 
 favour, offered his new coffin, which was there in 
 the house ready for emergencies. Our friend, alas ! 
 hesitated a moment. An onlooker stepped forward 
 and offered to exchange places — he would give up his 
 bed and take the coffin. The offer was accepted, but 
 as our friend lay hour after hour trying in vain to 
 sleep, and almost “ eaten up ” by insects many and 
 various, he realised how much wiser it would have 
 been to have made use of the spotlessly clean and 
 absolutely new coffin. The Chinese apparently do 
 not recoil from coffins as much as we do. I am told 
 that people who are dying are often dressed in their 
 gala clothes and placed there ready for the end ! 
 
 The weather has turned cold again. It seems strange 
 in these wintry blasts to see the sugar harvests being 
 gathered in. Sugar plantations are plentiful in this 
 part of the province, and every now and again one 
 comes across a sugar factory. 
 
 169 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 We dropped into one to see the men at work. 
 Behold again the invaluable buffalo ! A pair yoked 
 together were turning great grinding-stones, by 
 which the sugar-canes were crushed and the juice 
 pressed out. A bamboo pipe or tube conducted the 
 juice into a monster vat boiling over a furnace. 
 There were seven of these vats, the contents of each 
 at a different stage in the process of completion. In 
 the last of the seven the sugar had solidified. It 
 looked like toffee of a dark brown-red colour. Men 
 stood beside the vats stirring, mixing, and ladling the 
 boiling liquid from one vat to the other with long 
 wooden ladles, throwing in every now and then 
 lumps of white grease to keep the sugar from 
 sticking. 
 
 At TsY Cheo and other places there are sugar re- 
 fineries, and I am told that black mud is largely used 
 for this purpose. A thick layer of it is placed on top 
 of the sugar, and in course of time draws out the 
 impurities ! 
 
 Further along the road we came upon an old 
 man sitting under an umbrella awning, with a 
 little table before him, who smilingly stopped the 
 way ! He handed us a book of signatures, and ex- 
 plained that he was collecting subscriptions for the 
 upkeep of this — the main thoroughfare from Ch’ong 
 King to Chentu. We presented him with twenty 
 cents (about fivepence), and he let us pass. 
 
 170 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Our last day on the road — and a wet one ! We 
 spent a cold night in the mountains, and this morning 
 had to climb down the slippery paved path to the 
 Chentu Plain. The chair-bearers could hardly keep 
 their feet. First one slipped and almost fell, and 
 then another. For fear that the chairs should go 
 down altogether we got out and walked, and then it 
 was our turn to slip and slither. The bearers were 
 wearing their hats, things like large limpets made of 
 straw. They have a great objection to getting their 
 heads wet. Superstition has it that every drop of 
 rain that falls on their hair will produce a (hush ! I 
 will whisper the word) — a louse ! 
 
 They have many superstitions, these chair-bearers, 
 and it seems there are three places where nothing will 
 induce them either to set the chair down or shift the 
 shoulder-pole — the front of a temple, as it might 
 offend the idols ; or on a bridge, as the bridge-guardian 
 will be annoyed ; or in front of a chair-shop, for 
 fear that someone will take their job away from them. 
 Rather pathetic this last ! and from a Westerner’s 
 point of view it would not be much of a job. They 
 get four hundred “ cash ” * a day — start work before 
 daylight, and go on very often till after dark — and 
 out of their earnings they must pay forty “ cash ” 
 to the man who “ pao’s ” f them, and forty to the 
 “ futeo ” who looks after them, and buy their own 
 food and pay for their own night’s lodging ; and 
 
 * About eightpence. 
 
 t Recommends them and guarantees their good behaviour. 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 when out of work it must be hard indeed to “ know 
 how to go over the days.” * 
 
 The morning’s trudge brought us to the famous 
 Chentu Plain, said to be one of the most fertile 
 tracts of land in China. The soil bears three, and 
 sometimes four, crops in the year, and even now, in 
 these winter months, amongst terraces of watery 
 rice-fields, there are long green stretches of young 
 peas and budding beans, springing wheat and poppy, 
 and probably quantities of rape, which is grown chiefly 
 for oil and is ubiquitous in Szechuan. 
 
 But the Lilliputian wheelbarrows, which are a 
 peculiarity of the Chentu Plain, interested us more 
 than the crops. They somewhat resemble children’s 
 go-carts made for adults, and have one wheel only, 
 which runs in a deep groove, worn down and smoothed 
 out by many generations of wheelbarrows in the mud 
 track by the side of the paved road. We hired a 
 couple for the cost of one halfpenny each for thirteen 
 “li” (four miles and a bit), the market price, and off 
 we went. The downhill progress was quite inspiriting. 
 By asking the man to “ pao ” (run), and by raising 
 one’s feet from the foot-rest by the wheel so as not to 
 feel the jar, it was like a gentle form of “ coasting.” 
 
 Now and again a barrow would approach from the 
 opposite direction, and observing the strange con- 
 trast of dignity and absurdity in the passive-faced 
 Chinese sitting in state on his lowly perambulator, 
 
 * The Chinese equivalent of our phrase “ to know how to make 
 two ends meet.” 
 
 172 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 keeping his silk robes out of the mud, we were given 
 a chance of “ seeing ourselves as others see us.” 
 
 The safe passing of wheelbarrows is not an easy 
 matter. One, of course, must yield possession of the 
 groove and wallow in the sea of mud and ruts at 
 the side. If the passenger is wise, he will tempor- 
 arily absent himself from his barrow and resume his 
 seat when the wheel has once more got back to the 
 worn track. 
 
 It was getting dark when we passed in at the east 
 gates of the city of Chentu. From the open land 
 and comparative quiet of the vegetable fields we 
 found ourselves suddenly hurled into the midst of 
 a surging crowd, a deafening hubbub — everybody 
 shouting and nobody listening — each one trying to 
 move on, to come in or go out, and everybody ob- 
 structing everybody else’s way. 
 
 As the throng heaved to this side and that I suddenly 
 perceived the servant belonging to our friends of the 
 house-boat, who thrust a letter into my hand. He 
 yelled out something I could not hear, and I shouted 
 in return. At that moment Mr. P. came to our 
 rescue. VVe were expected, it seemed, at the house of 
 some friends of friends in the street of the “ Green 
 Dragon,” in a far-distant quarter of the city. It 
 was getting late, and we had to press on. So bidding 
 farewell to our kind escort, whose road lay in another 
 direction, Deborah and I were borne away into the 
 darkness. 
 
 The streets seemed never-ending, and were but 
 
 173 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 dimly lit, merely punctured here and there by lamps 
 belonging to shops. It was evident the “ futeo ” 
 and his men were not sure of the way. At last, in 
 a dusky side street, our chairs were set down and the 
 bearers gathered round to rest and smoke. Then the 
 “ futeo ” bought some torches. He carried a flaming 
 one just in front of my chair as on we went again. 
 
 It seemed to me we must have got out of the city 
 into the suburbs, out of the suburbs into the country, 
 when finally, after twisting many corners and passing 
 many walls, we found ourselves being carried up the 
 flagged pathway of an English garden, lawns on either 
 side of us, and lights glowing behind windows under 
 a deep verandah. 
 
 A Chinese servant made us welcome. There was 
 no one at home, he said, “ they had all gone to ‘ li- 
 pai. r ” * We were so late that no doubt they had 
 given us up ; but we felt like the invaders of the house 
 of the three bears in the fairy story as we established 
 ourselves in a luxurious English bedroom, got rid of 
 our road-stained garments, and then dined in splen- 
 dour, waited on by the Chinese boy. 
 
 Now we are in a cosy drawing-room that makes us 
 think of home, sunk in the snug depths of arm-chairs 
 drawn up to a blazing fire, with Punch and a Weekly 
 Pimes to remind us that we have not seen an English 
 paper for several months. The only trouble is that 
 Deborah thinks we must have come to the wrong 
 house. The Chinese boy would be too polite to tell 
 
 * Church. 
 
 174 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 us vve were not expected, and his wide smile is in- 
 scrutable. Anyway, I will finish this to post, and 
 will add a P.S. to tell you what happens when the 
 “ three bears ” come home. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 P.S . — The sound of many voices and the stir of 
 many feet aroused us from our slumbers by the fire. 
 The door opened to admit a long stream of people, 
 our hostess amongst them, who allayed Deborah’s 
 fears by giving us the heartiest of welcomes. 
 
 There seem to be nine or ten other guests here 
 besides ourselves. All the foreign residents of the 
 city are apparently keeping open house this week, on 
 the occasion of the “ West China Missionary Con- 
 ference,” at which representatives from all the western 
 provinces will be present, besides various eminent 
 sinologues and ecclesiastical dignitaries from other 
 parts of the empire. 
 
Chentu, 
 
 February. 
 
 Picture fifteen Bank Holidays in England, one 
 on top of the other, with no intermission — shops 
 shut — business at a standstill, pleasure-makers wearied 
 to death, and the world out of joint. Transfer the 
 fifteen Bank Holidays to China and you have the 
 New Year’s festival. 
 
 People will tell you that there is an unwritten law 
 in China which ordains that all debts shall be paid at 
 the close of the old year, and that, in this respect, 
 England might follow the Chinese lead with ad- 
 vantage ; but there is another side to the question. 
 It is quite true that the last few days before the advent 
 of the new year half the population goes out either 
 paying or collecting debts. Very often, however, 
 it seems only a matter of “ readjustment ” — borrow- 
 ing from Peter, for instance, to pay Paul, and settling 
 with Peter by negotiating a loan with Barnabas. 
 No one seems to be above borrowing money — in 
 China. Rich or poor, it is all the same. Debts 
 appear to add a zest to life. But sometimes credit 
 has run so low that “ Peter ” will not lend, but “ Paul,” 
 according to the law of the land, cannot press his suit 
 until the fifteen days of the New Year’s holiday have 
 
 176 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 expired, and there are instances — not a few — in which 
 the debtor goes under altogether, and takes leave of 
 life rather than “ lose face ” in the eyes of his fellow- 
 citizens. 
 
 I now realise why, on leaving Ch’ong King, our 
 chair-bearers were pursued by the innkeepers at the first 
 halting-place, and after a wordy warfare, which in 
 one case ended in blows, the claims were settled, or, 
 at all events, a truce effected, by the intervention of 
 the “ foreign teacher.” 
 
 There having been, therefore, a “ general post ” in 
 matter of debts, the next “ game ” to be played 
 makes “ confusion worse confounded ” — for during 
 the first days of the New Year’s holiday, gambling, 
 one of the curses of China, is actually sanctioned by 
 the Imperial Government, and at this time of the 
 year is indulged in to an almost incredible extent by 
 young and old, rich and poor, in the open street, 
 in the courts and in the houses, at all hours of the 
 day and night. 
 
 I am glad we saw Chentu before it shut up shop 
 and retired into private life. We had heard so much 
 of this western metropolis, with all its modern im- 
 provements, its schools and colleges, its arsenals 
 and mints, its smart troops and well-trained police 
 force, and felt not a little curious to see this ad- 
 vanced city standing alone in its glory, in the midst 
 of towns and villages which savour more of the past 
 than the present. 
 
 In order to get a “ bird’s-eye view ” of our sur- 
 
 n 177 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 roundings, we climbed up to the city wall, and walked 
 for a couple of miles or so on the top of it. Fourteen 
 miles would have taken us the whole way round, 
 but there was no inducement to go so far. It was 
 the dullest walk I have had for some time. The 
 top of the wall — forty feet wide — built of stone, 
 white and bare, made one think of some deserted 
 seaside parade, minus the sea. To one side of us the 
 flat green stretches of the Chentu Plain, inter- 
 minable vegetable fields dotted by tiny wooded 
 islets of cypress and bamboo, and away in the distance 
 a bank of clouds, or the snow mountains of Thibet, 
 whichever you have eyes to see. On the other side 
 the long level stretch of brown roofs, broken by an 
 occasional cluster of trees or a patch of allotment 
 gardens — all so flat, so monotonous, with nothing 
 standing out, nothing to arrest attention. 
 
 Down in the streets themselves, however, there is 
 no monotony. Chentu is getting ready for the 
 New Year. The pavements are crowded with stalls 
 selling New Year’s “ fairings ” ; street hawkers pass 
 carrying huge bundles of grotesque magenta-pink 
 masks — or wooden erections high above their heads, 
 on which are displayed to view highly coloured 
 pictures of door gods, in reds and yellows, blues and 
 purples, for pasting on the doors of the houses. 
 New red lanterns are everywhere in evidence, and 
 toys for the children. Chinese children have very 
 few toys, and those they have are probably bought 
 at the New Year — kites of every size and description, 
 
 178 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 mud animals covered with fur, tops caught and swung 
 on a string (the original, probably, of “ diabolo ”), 
 and stuffed tigers — some of which are used not as 
 toys, but as pillows for children who suffer from 
 restless nights — these being attributed to evil spirits, 
 who are said to be afraid of the “ king of beasts,” as 
 the Chinese call the tiger. 
 
 The streets are well paved and well policed with 
 neat little men in semi-Western uniforms of dark 
 blue cloth and German cheese-cutter caps, which 
 look strangely comical over their “queues.” 
 
 The house in which we are staying is not far from 
 the gates of the Manchu city. In Chentu, as in 
 Peking, there are three cities in one ; but the Im- 
 perial city is but a shadow of its former self, and the 
 Manchu city looks like a neglected village enclosed 
 in crumbling walls and embowered in trees, amongst 
 which, on roadways overgrown by moss and weeds, 
 stand time-worn houses, inhabited by the descendants 
 of the original Manchu garrison. 
 
 For more than two hundred years they have lived 
 “ cursed with a patrimony ” as pensioners of the 
 Government. It is not a large pension — merely two 
 “ taels ” a month (about five shillings and sixpence) 
 and their rice ; but the slatternly women, untidy 
 children, and lazy-looking men, lounging around to 
 see us pass, show the deteriorating effects of this 
 life. Just lately, however, there have been stormy 
 times in the Manchu city. Fearing disturbances 
 amongst the anti-dynastic societies with which the 
 
 179 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 country is said to be riddled, the Government have 
 been trying to curry favour with the Chinese by 
 reducing the Manchu pension. Only a few days 
 before our arrival the irate pensioners had risen in 
 rebellion. The Viceroy had been obliged to come in 
 person to make terms with the rioters. He had 
 quieted them with vague promises. The general 
 opinion is, however, that the Government has firmly 
 decided to put a stop to the pension before long, and 
 to compensate by a gift of land. After more than 
 two hundred years of idleness, it seems hardly prob- 
 able that the Manchus will be able to turn into able 
 agriculturists at a moment’s notice. One might 
 just as well expect a pampered Persian cat to leave 
 its saucer of cream and get its own living in the stable. 
 It is not surprising that the Manchu should feel a 
 little hurt. The old Imperial city was even less im- 
 pressive than the Manchu city. The emperors of 
 olden days would shudder to see the influence of 
 their “tributary vassals,” the “Western barbarians,” 
 amongst the ruins of former glory. There is little, 
 indeed, of the latter still to be seen — save a grand 
 old gateway, said to be two thousand years old — 
 and a bit of an ancient temple recently restored. 
 A desolate place strewn with boulders, weather- 
 stained and crumbling, is all that remains of the old 
 examination cells. The one or two still left standing 
 reminded me of small fowl-houses, built of stone, 
 damp and dark, and hardly long enough to lie down 
 in. No wonder that some candidates in the old days 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 went in never to come out again. I have heard of 
 “ an average of twenty-five deaths daily ” during 
 an examination at Nanking. In those cells students, 
 imprisoned for so many days and nights, had to write 
 their examination essays. In spite of all precautions, 
 cheating was by no means unknown. The essayists 
 would hide their papers up their sleeves, or, by 
 bribing the attendants, smuggle in substitutes to do 
 the work for them. But the old order has changed 
 here, as elsewhere. Side by side with the ruined 
 cells stands the new Government school, built of 
 wood and plaster — new, showy, and unsubstantial. 
 The thin wooden frames to doors and windows are 
 painted a brilliant royal blue, the slender walls are 
 of dazzling white, the buildings — chiefly one story 
 high and built round paved courts — look as fragile 
 as bathing sheds. One asked oneself — how long 
 would they last ? And one thought of old China, 
 rigid and unchanging through the centuries, and new 
 China, starting like a growth of mushrooms in the 
 night, breaking out in patches in unexpected places. 
 I retract the word “ mushroom.” It gives a wrong 
 impression, for Chentu, after all, is marching with 
 the times and doing wonders. It was a wonder in 
 itself to begin with. I remember that Mrs. Bishop, 
 in her travels ten years ago, sang its praises in no un- 
 measured terms, and finished by saying that it was 
 a city which “ owed absolutely nothing to European 
 influence.” 
 
 The “ wood and plaster ” school was deserted on 
 
 1 8 1 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the day of our visit, as the pupils had gone home for 
 the New Year. We were told they consisted of boys 
 who wished to acquire Western languages, with a 
 view to continuing their education in Western lands. 
 In the majority of cases their expenses are defrayed by 
 the Government, which adopts this method of raising 
 up for itself officials trained in Western science. 
 
 From the Government school we passed on to a 
 “ Beggar School,” one of the enterprising reforms 
 of a certain energetic Chentu official. About two 
 hundred beggars were in residence. In one melan- 
 choly room long rows of them were waiting apa- 
 thetically the next turn in their affairs. They looked 
 to be in every stage of dirt and poverty, and some, of 
 ashen hue, stood evidently on the verge of starvation. 
 Our guide informed us that these were some who had 
 only just been brought in from the streets. The 
 other rooms presented a more cheerful appearance. 
 Instruction was being given in trades, such as weaving, 
 glass-polishing, book-sewing, type-cutting, and alto- 
 gether the place looked well ordered and very fairly 
 clean. 
 
 Chentu is an educational centre. There arc large 
 industrial schools, with a depot in the town, where 
 work done by the pupils is offered for sale — silk, 
 brass, lacquer-work, furniture, etc. There are a Normal 
 College, and a school for the sons of merchants and 
 officials from other provinces, a military academy, 
 and, over and above these, the Imperial University, the 
 principal of which is an Englishman. The main street 
 
 182 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 — or one of the main streets — showed Western influ- 
 ence as much as the schools. The cheap “ foreign ” 
 shop, alas ! was much in evidence, reminding one 
 of certain “ shoddy ” emporiums at home, in which 
 everything is labelled “ sixpence -halfpenny ” — and 
 is probably “ made in Germany.” As a matter of 
 fact, the cheap enamelled ware, coloured glass and 
 sham leather, and mirrors framed in cardboard and 
 tinsel over here in China are usually “ made in Japan.” 
 “ Once burnt, twice shy,” the Chinese are beginning 
 to find out that things are not what they seem, 
 and the cheap “ foreign ” shops will soon cease to 
 thrive. Losing our way in the labyrinth of streets, 
 we finally came to the post office and attempted to 
 buy post cards, but they had none left. The English- 
 man in charge very kindly sent a postman with us to 
 show us the way back! 
 
 The Viceroy of the province paid a formal call 
 on the “ foreigners ” the other day. He was a spare, 
 elderly man, disfigured by horn-rimmed spectacles 
 and the literary stoop. The only striking thing 
 about him was his magnificent fur coat. His retinue 
 consisted of passive-faced underlings, who stood on 
 either side with the immovability and something 
 the air of Dutch dolls. They wore wadded garments, 
 but were more rotund, however, than Dutch dolls 
 usually are. The interpreter, who had travelled in 
 Western lands, was the only one who considered it un- 
 necessary to banish all life and intelligence from his 
 face. 
 
 183 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The last days of the old year are the most strenuous 
 ones of the whole twelve months. Are there twelve 
 or thirteen months this year ? I forget — and have 
 no Chinese almanac just now by which to ascertain. 
 
 To begin with, provisions for fifteen days must be 
 stored, and a certain amount of cleaning done — and 
 not before it is needed. Then there are the debts to 
 be seen to, and new clothes to be bought or borrowed 
 or got out of pawn, and new mottoes, proverbs, and 
 sayings from the classics on gaily coloured scrolls 
 pasted on the doorposts (those in mourning have 
 these in blue or white, those out of mourning in 
 poppy red). Finally, the “ door gods ” must be 
 glued upon the doors. These are grotesque portraits 
 of two famous generals of the Tang dynasty. After 
 their death, the Emperor under whom they had 
 served with such distinction fell seriously ill. The 
 story goes that the spirits of the two generals ap- 
 peared to him in a vision, causing him to recover 
 from his illness. The Emperor, in gratitude, deified 
 them as door gods of his palace, and it was supposed 
 that their presence at the gates would prevent the 
 entrance of evil spirits. Occasionally a more en- 
 lightened citizen dispenses with the door gods 
 and has these words inscribed in their place : “ Only 
 seek to keep your conscience void of offence, then 
 what need of having door gods ? ” On New Year’s 
 Day everybody goes out calling on everybody else. 
 The visiting cards are hung above the doors, and the 
 doors of those who have many callers are fringed with 
 
 184 
 
A PORTABLE KITCHEN 
 
 From Drawings by Xative Artists. 
 
 NEW YEAR SALUTATIONS 
 
 Page 184 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 paper ; some, on the contrary, have hardly any. 
 There was something pathetic about the isolated 
 card above a lonely doorway, but anyway, people 
 are perfectly straightforward in this matter, and 
 there is no attempt at “ bogus cards.” The calls, 
 judging from those at which I was present, did not 
 last long. Dressed in their gala clothes, the visitors 
 raised their hands in stately fashion to each occupant 
 of the room, uttered a few polite sentences, smiled 
 effusively — too much so, I thought — and were gone. 
 In the guest-hall tea and cakes were served to all 
 who cared to partake. The one rule in regard to 
 colours in the gorgeous costumes of the girls and the 
 younger women was that they should clash instead 
 of harmonise (or so it seemed to my untrained eye) — 
 trousers of magenta pink, for instance, topped by 
 scarlet upper garments, whilst the “ lin ts'f,” an em- 
 broidered band of silk worn over the head, was a 
 mixture of every colour imaginable, in which violet 
 and pale blue predominated. The faces of all who 
 considered themselves becomingly dressed were plas- 
 tered thickly with powder, and touched up in the 
 most unnatural places with rouge (the tip of the nose 
 and the eyelids being sometimes included). 
 
 On the second day of the New Year two women 
 and a child, whom we had never seen before in 
 our lives, came into the room, and after the cus- 
 tomary salutations, I talked to the child — an attractive 
 little girl of four or five — whereupon the mother 
 instantly offered to give her to me “ for my very 
 
 185 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 own,” and pressed the gift when I laughingly de- 
 clined. 
 
 Feasting is the chief joy of New Year’s Day. 
 “ Tsan,” the kitchen god, becomes an especially 
 important personage at this season of the year. 
 He is credited with an intimate knowledge of every- 
 body’s faults and misdeeds. When he makes his 
 annual journey up to heaven, people smear his lips 
 with sugar before he goes, in order to induce him to 
 give a good report of their doings. He starts on the 
 first day of the year, and all who can afford to do so, 
 furnish him with paper horses and other necessaries 
 for the journey. On the fourth of the month he 
 returns, and great preparations are made for welcom- 
 ing him back. 
 
 On New Year’s Eve everybody sits up to watch the 
 New Year in, in order that their “ days may be long 
 in the land.” As soon as midnight is over the worship 
 of the ancestral tablets takes place, and homage is 
 paid to that part of the heavens indicated by the 
 almanac as being the quarter from which the “ spirit 
 of gladness ” is said to emanate. Then they start 
 in with their fifteen Bank Holidays, one on top of 
 the other, and we meanwhile stand outside “ pawing ” 
 the ground impatiently and longing to be off ; but 
 the first difficulty is a servant — there are none to be 
 had at New Year’s time, and an attendant of some 
 kind is essential for our next journey, as we shall 
 no longer have friends to depend on and must shift 
 for ourselves. The next requirement is a tailor ; 
 
 1 86 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 but at New Year’s time tailors will not work for love 
 or money. It is the same story throughout. The 
 washer-man, the shoemaker, the furrier, all are holiday- 
 making. The more respectable the shop and the 
 better the business, so much the longer do the shutters 
 remain closed. 
 
 Meanwhile, we wait outside and shiver. The 
 weather is cold. They say the coldest part of the 
 winter is always at this season of the year. The wind 
 blows like a snow wind, but it is the rarest thing ever 
 to have snow in Szechuan. One realises, however, 
 it must be warmer than it feels, for there are double 
 daisies blooming in the gardens, and sweet-williams 
 coming into flower. The raw dampness of the air, 
 however, is so penetrating that nobody feels warm, 
 except, perhaps, the Chinese themselves, who are 
 almost twice as large now as they are in the summer, 
 on account of their many layers of wadded and fur- 
 lined garments. They cannot understand why the 
 “ Western barbarians ” waste so much of their money 
 in coal which -perishes, instead of investing it in furs — 
 which last. The Chinese are past-masters in the art of 
 keeping furs ; many of the more wealthy send theirs 
 to the pawnshops for the summer, simply to save 
 themselves trouble. They are returned at the com- 
 mencement of winter — in excellent condition. I 
 have been trying to buy myself a fur garment for 
 my own wear, as, under the erroneous impression 
 that the Szechuan climate was the same as that of 
 the north of Egypt (the latitude of Chentu being 
 
 187 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 nearly similar to that of Cairo), I have not brought 
 anything of that kind with me ; but once again we 
 are met with the unanswerable argument, “ This is 
 the ‘ Ko Nien ’ (New Year), no fur shops are open.” 
 In spite of closed shutters and barred doors, the 
 streets are still full of colour. The red lanterns 
 bobbing over doorways, the red scrolls on the door- 
 posts, the gay portraits of the door gods on the 
 doors, the loiterers and passers-by in festive clothing, 
 baby children in scarlet tunics, elder girls in trousers 
 of poppy red, their fathers in sumptuous gowns of 
 purple silk or pale green and golden plush, and the 
 women with knots of artificial flowers of every colour 
 of the rainbow in their black hair. A Chinese woman’s 
 hair is always immaculately tidy — rich or poor, it is 
 all the same. The smooth, oiled tresses coiled tightly 
 round have almost the appearance of glossy black 
 satin. They shake their heads over the untidy “ curly ” 
 locks of the “foreign women,” and wonder why they 
 do not use a brush and comb 
 
 But to go back to the New Year. 
 
 In one of the principal streets we came across a 
 “ shadow show.” The stage — a rough platform 
 mounted on poles ; the actors — marionettes cleverly 
 manipulated by unseen men in the background. 
 Between the stage and the audience there hung a 
 white curtain, which added a charm and mystery to 
 the scene. Thus the shadows of the marionettes were 
 all one could see, and so strangely real did they ap- 
 pear — softened and idealised by the curtain — that one 
 
 188 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 could almost have imagined them to be real people 
 of a Lilliputian race. Our presence in the crowd had 
 probably been noticed, for after a bit a new marionette 
 appeared on the stage, which, from its pinched waist, 
 hideous hat, and absurd anatomy, suggested the 
 “ foreigner ” as seen and portrayed by the Chinese. 
 The crowd appeared amused ; we could not under- 
 stand what was being said, and considered it best 
 to move on. 
 
 We had thought of travelling back overland by 
 the north of the province, but our friends strongly 
 dissuaded us from doing this. Had they known a 
 reliable man to send with us, it might be different, 
 but just at this time of the year it seems uncommonly 
 difficult to find anyone at all in the way of a servant. 
 The chair-bearers would probably require most 
 of their money in advance, and perceiving our 
 ignorance of the language, and seeing that we were 
 absolutely at their mercy, might very likely set us 
 down in some lonely place and make off — the Yamen 
 runners following suit. We were reminded of Mrs. 
 Bishop’s Yamen runners, who deserted her the moment 
 she was attacked, and afterwards excused themselves 
 by saying, “ Of what use were two against two thou- 
 sand ? ” 
 
 The only alternative that remains is to go back by 
 water, travelling down the River Min till it joins the 
 Yangtse at Sui Fu, and thence on to Ch’ong King. 
 
 189 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 This journey should take about twelve days, allowing 
 for halts by the way. 
 
 Meanwhile we are planning a short overland trip 
 to Kuan Hsien to see the wonderful irrigation works, 
 made something like two hundred years before the 
 Christian era, and to which the plain of Chentu owes 
 its great fertility. 
 
 A servant has at last been found. He is still holiday- 
 making, however, and will not be able to come till 
 next week, but has sent a substitute called Lao Cheo — 
 a respectably dressed “ country bumpkin,” who has 
 never waited on “ foreigners ” before. 
 
 We must have looked a melancholy little party 
 passing out of the city gate the morning of our start. 
 Two “ three-bearer ” chairs, a depressed coolie carry- 
 ing bedding, a couple of Yamen soldiers in scarlet 
 silk jackets and bare feet, and Lao Cheo, with his 
 blue garments tucked up carefully out of the mud, 
 holding a yellow oil-skin umbrella. It was raining 
 piteously, and distinctly cold. Everybody looked 
 miserable — either shivering outside their open-fronted 
 shops over charcoal foot-warmers, or wading dejectedly 
 through the black mud. Most of the pedestrians 
 were bare-footed, some of necessity, others for 
 economical reasons, as it is a pity to spoil boots by 
 wearing them in such bad weather. Our chair- 
 bearers kept shouting to each other “ Hua teh hen ! 
 hua teh hen!” (“Extremely slippery”). It was a 
 
 190 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 marvel that they did not go over altogether — and the 
 chairs into the bargain. We were numbed with cold 
 and suggested walking ; but Lao Cheo and the soldiers 
 shook their heads. “ Tseo puh teh ! ” (“Walk not 
 attain ” !) they said, and they were right. We lunched 
 in a squalid inn, where the best room was a small 
 stable with a bed. Lao Cheo was wishful to help, 
 but horribly puzzled by our strange foods, particu- 
 larly the tinned things. Finally we presented him 
 with a clean dish-cloth and told him to “ wash up.” 
 At which he proceeded to wipe round the greasy 
 plates, etc., with the dish-cloth, and mums water ! 
 We explained ourselves more clearly, and Lao Cheo 
 went off in haste, but this time washed, not the lun- 
 cheon things, but the dish-cloth ! 
 
 That night we stayed at Pi Hsien, and appropriated 
 the guest-rooms. The sitting-room was roofed in, 
 but rather bereft of walls ; and, as the night was cold, 
 we retreated into two little bedrooms at the side, 
 surprisingly well furnished with a couple of chairs 
 and a table, to say nothing of the enormous wooden 
 bedsteads, on which Lao Cheo made up the beds, 
 though considerably puzzled by the English sheets 
 and pillows, and not knowing what to do with 
 them. 
 
 The Chinese, when they go to bed, roll themselves 
 in their wadded quilts, and look like chrysalises. 
 One thick quilt is amply sufficient, yet here were 
 these “ foreigners ” with two thick quilts apiece and 
 blanket rugs, and linen sheets, and a couple of pillows. 
 
 191 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Truly these “ outside Kingdom men ” are strange 
 beings ! 
 
 We ordered “ ki tan ” (eggs) for supper, and when 
 the eggs were brought I asked for “ kan fan ” (rice), 
 which is generally to be found in an inn kitchen out 
 here in this rice-growing province. Lao Cheo was 
 some time gone, and finally brought more eggs. We 
 gave up the rice as hopeless. Probably I had made fan 
 sound like tan , or used a wrong tone of voice. 
 
 We had meant to spend the next afternoon at 
 Kuan Hsien, but we had “ counted without the rain.” 
 For every five steps, it seemed to me, we slipped 
 back one — slithering in the mud. As the day ad- 
 vanced, however, both weather and scenery improved. 
 From the highly cultivated but rather monotonous 
 surroundings of Chentu we passed into the richly 
 wooded plain at the foot of the mountains. Bamboos, 
 cypress trees, a species of myrtle, and willows were 
 growing with almost tropical luxuriance in clumps 
 and groves over a flat stretch of country, which ended 
 suddenly at the foot of steep, mountainous hills, 
 wooded even more thickly than the plain, but wreathed 
 round the summit with freshly fallen snow. 
 
 Early in the afternoon we had sent on one of our 
 soldiers with a note to Mr. and Mrs. H. of the China 
 Inland Mission, asking if they would kindly put us 
 up for the night. We fondly hoped he had arrived 
 some time in advance, but it seems he appeared about 
 two minutes before we did. Our friends swallowed 
 their surprise with commendable skill, and from the 
 
 192 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 welcome they gave us we might have thought we 
 had been expected for weeks. The house was a 
 Chinese house — one-storied buildings round paved 
 courts, and gates leading out of a street lined with 
 memorial arches. T^iere were no stoves, and some 
 of the windows were of paper ; but a picturesque 
 brass pan on an “ ebony ” stand filled with glowing 
 charcoal did excellent duty for a fire in the sitting- 
 room, and was far more artistic than a grate and a 
 mantelpiece. 
 
 The next day (in drizzling rain, alas !) we started 
 forth to see the irrigation works. “ The magnificent 
 engineering feat achieved by the Chinese in the year 
 200 b . c . — and achieved by accident.” This is sup- 
 posed to be a quotation, but I object to the words 
 “ by accident.” Why not say the Chinese invented 
 porcelain, and printing, and gunpowder, and the 
 mariner’s compass also by accident ? but for these 
 things they are given due credit. 
 
 To a certain prefect, Li Ping, and his son is as- 
 signed the honour of the work. A river of no great 
 size flowing from the Thibetan mountains is divided 
 into two (called officially the inner and the outer 
 river). The two are subdivided into three, and all 
 along the banks of the three are innumerable Lilli- 
 putian canals. 
 
 And now for the engineering feat. Leaving the 
 city to the right of us, we made our way along a 
 grass-grown path beneath the trees at the side of 
 a wide, shallow, quickly-flowing river. Fishermen 
 
 o 193 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 wading through waist-deep were fishing for trout. 
 The river disappeared round a wooded corner, and 
 we pursued it in its course, not by way of the 
 banks, but through the grounds of a temple on the 
 height of a wooded knoll ; but the river had changed 
 its character when next we saw it. The waters had 
 narrowed and deepened, and the colour was like the 
 blue-green of a glacier lake, as it flowed at the foot of 
 a shadowy cleft between rocky precipices a hundred 
 feet deep. Over on the rocks, amongst the trees, 
 stands the Er’wang temple, built in memory of 
 the famous Li Ping and his son ; and this river of 
 glorious emerald flowing at the foot of the precipices 
 is not a natural river, after all, but the first of the 
 artificial waterways, and the rocks, one hundred feet 
 high, have been broken through (probably by blasting) 
 as long ago as 200 b.c. ! In summer time, when the 
 river is full, the immense flood sweeping through 
 the gorge might cause unspeakable damage, if left 
 to itself. It has, however, been cleverly contrived 
 that the surplus water, in smashing against the rocks, 
 is thrown back with tremendous force into the 
 overflow, which exactly faces the hill that was cut 
 away by Li Ping, and from the overflow it finds its 
 way back to the original bed. 
 
 Descending from the temple knoll we pursued our 
 steps along the stony banks of the “ emerald river ” 
 beyond the cutting, to see the point at which its 
 waters flow from the parent stream. Men were busy 
 repairing the old embankments, which were formed 
 
 194 
 
ARTIFICIAL GORGE, KUAN HSIEN 
 
 From Photographs by A . Grainger. 
 
 TEMPORARY DAM, KUAN HSIEN 
 
 Pa^e 1Q4 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 of bamboo baskets, like giant waste-paper baskets, 
 ten feet or more in length, packed tightly with stones 
 large and small. When full, the baskets are placed 
 one on top of the other, until a strong fortification is 
 erected. The cost of keeping up these irrigation 
 works is considerable, and is met in part by taxes 
 levied on the various counties (“hsien”) which benefit 
 by the water supply, and in part by the Government. 
 The plain of Chentu measures about two hundred by 
 three hundred “ li,” * and is watered almost exclusively 
 by the streams which have been made to flow from 
 the river of Kuan Hsien. The labour employed is 
 extensive. The embankments of each waterway 
 are thoroughly repaired every year. In order to 
 do this the water is cut off from each one in turn by 
 means which are as simple as they are efficacious. 
 As we arrived at the junction of the “ emerald river ” 
 with the old and original river, the barricade by 
 which the water is to be cut off from the former in 
 a few days’ time was just in process of completion. 
 Great tripods of wooden staves were firmly fixed in 
 the river bed, and between bamboo mats a strong 
 fortification had been made of the ubiquitous stones, 
 the weight of the whole resting for support on the 
 tripods. 
 
 A short walk further up the valley brought us to 
 a famous rope bridge — a quarter of a mile in length, 
 and formed of six strands of stout rope, on the top 
 of which loose planks were strewn crosswise. There 
 * Three “ li ” one English mile. 
 
 195 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 were also rails of rope, and the whole bridge curved 
 in the most graceful fashion, rising where stone sup- 
 ports fixed in the ground kept the ropes up, and dipping 
 downwards between the supports. It swayed con- 
 siderably, but was evidently immensely strong ; 
 sedan-chairs, coolies bearing heavy burdens, buffaloes, 
 pigs, and a never-ceasing stream of people pass 
 and re-pass all day long. We completed our 
 Kuan Hsien excursion by a visit to Li Ping’s 
 gorgeous temple, one of the finest in the whole of 
 China. 
 
 We climbed the hill to the golden gates — gates 
 that are one glittering mass of gilded carving — and 
 passed up long flights of wide steps to one courtyard 
 after another. The whole place was beautifully 
 kept. There was an air of prosperity and dignity 
 very unusual in Taoist temples ; the polished lacquer 
 columns, the dazzle of gold and colour, the carving, 
 and the fretwork, all played a part in the scheme 
 of beauty. We were pointed out Li Ping’s motto 
 inscribed in gilt characters : “ Dig the channels 
 
 deep, keep the banks low.” We passed up flight after 
 flight, through court into court, and still had only 
 seen one-half of the temple buildings. Here and 
 there green and leafy gardens hovered in stray nooks, 
 where, in spite of the inclement weather, primulas 
 and camellias were in full flower. We were taken to 
 a pond of “ sacred ” turtles hiding under rocks 
 wreathed in drooping maidenhair — and we stood 
 under a sacred tree — a myrtle said to be nearly four 
 
 196 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 hundred years old — around which incense sticks were 
 burning steadily. 
 
 The next day, fortunately, the rain held off ; we 
 had slept the night at Chang Lin Pu, and started off 
 at five the next morning, hoping to get to Chentu 
 before the closing of the city gates. The Chentu 
 gatekeepers have a method of their own. At dusk a 
 small candle is lighted by way of warning, and the 
 moment the candle burns itself out the gates are 
 flung to, and may only be opened after that in ex- 
 treme cases of life and death. 
 
 To-day, the sixteenth of the second month, or the 
 fifteenth of the first (according to Chinese reckoning), 
 is the last day of the New Year holidays, and cele- 
 brated in many parts of China by the “ Lantern 
 Festival ” ; but in Chentu — this “ advanced ” Western 
 metropolis — the officials have put a stop to the pro- 
 cession altogether as being a frequent cause of fire. 
 It seemed to me, however, that most of the citizens 
 had gone out that evening, just as we had, for the 
 purpose of discovering if there were anything to be 
 seen ; but besides the dense crowd, the only unusual 
 episode was the appearance on the scene of the 
 “ hsien ” official with his military escort : they were 
 dashing down the street with the fury of a London 
 fire-engine. The crowd fell back in haste to let them 
 pass. Who, I wonder, would care to be a “ hsien ” 
 official ? Like the fire-engine, he has to be always 
 ready, day and night, to go to any part of the city 
 where his presence may be needed. If there are 
 
 197 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 disturbances in the streets, it is he who will be held 
 to blame ! 
 
 February \yth. 
 
 To-day Deborah and I start off on our journey 
 down the Min, but instead of finding our new servant 
 on the scene awaiting our commands, the principal 
 of the University has appeared, and has come to 
 warn us that this excellent servant who has been 
 engaged is an excellent servant of his own. He 
 asked leave a day or so ago to go to his home to “ bury 
 his father.” His master’s suspicions were aroused, 
 and this morning he discovered that the funeral 
 in question was nothing more nor less than a 
 journey down the river with two foreign ladies — 
 the reason for this crooked behaviour being twofold. 
 The servant was desirous of leaving his old situa- 
 tion, as he did not get on well with his fellow-servants, 
 and by obtaining a post as “ ta-si-fu ” * to the 
 foreign ladies, he would succeed in bettering his 
 position, and would henceforth be able to command 
 the higher wage of a cook instead of that of “ second 
 boy,” his present position. According to Chinese 
 etiquette, he could not have given notice in the 
 usual way, as that would have meant “ losing face.” 
 The “ burying of the dead ” seems a time-honoured 
 excuse in China. Hence a Chinese explaining the 
 words, “ Let the dead bury their dead,” said it was 
 
 * Cook. 
 
 198 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 evident that Christ knew there were no dead to bury, 
 and that the people were making idle excuses. 
 
 We feared our journey would have to be postponed 
 once again, but in less than an hour another servant 
 was produced — Lao Tsong — a queer, wizened little 
 man with a sharp face and eyes like a ferret’s. 
 
 He was an excellent cook, they said, but had one 
 great failing, which had cost him one situation after 
 another — namely, a highly developed capacity for 
 “ squeezing ” and over-“ squeezing,” recognising no 
 limit to “ squeezing ” so long as he himself was not 
 “ squeezed.” * 
 
 However, on the boat, our friends suggest, his pur- 
 chases will be of the most limited order, and he will 
 not get much opportunity for exercising his particular 
 weakness. 
 
 By the way, to ensure good health for the coming 
 year we should have taken a stroll to-day on the city 
 walls. All the world and his wife were there — crowds 
 of them — coming and going. The “ Hundred Disease 
 Stroll,” they call it, and the sixteenth of the first 
 month is its day. 
 
 We start on our boat journey this afternoon — 
 the boat a small Wu Pan with an arched roof of 
 matting, under which Deborah and I are to live for 
 twelve days. The rest of the party consists of Lao 
 Tsong, the ferret, a couple of ragged, miserable- 
 looking Yamen runners (probably beggars to whom 
 
 * “Squeeze” — make an illicit profit out of every transaction in 
 which he is concerned. China in Decay. 
 
 199 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 this job has been sweated out), and a small crew of 
 four men, including the captain. Lao Tsong looks to 
 have all his wits about him. The only trouble is he 
 may turn out to be a bit too clever. 
 
 I will post this before we leave. It will be carried 
 overland to Wanhsien, I expect, and get there long 
 before we shall. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 200 
 
On the River Min, 
 
 February , 1908. 
 
 Here we are, two thousand miles in the interior 
 of China on a river that is running dry. For hours 
 upon hours the crew have been pushing and pulling 
 us through the mud and the stones. Now and again 
 our boat is literally carried, not on the water, of 
 which but a few cupfuls remain, but on the shoul- 
 ders of the men. None but Chinese — plodding, per- 
 severing, patient Chinese — would think it worth 
 while to attempt a river journey under such 
 baffling circumstances. 
 
 Various methods were resorted to in order to 
 lighten our weight. The two shabby Yamen soldiers 
 were put on shore to walk, and late in the evening, 
 just as Deborah and I were thinking of turning in, a 
 request came for our boxes. We were loth to let 
 them go, fearing we might never see them again, but 
 Lao Tsong assured us it would be all right. They 
 were to be shipped on to another junk, and we should 
 have them in the morning. The boxes having gone, 
 they proceeded to remove the planks from the bottom 
 of the boat, the cooking utensils, the men’s bedding, 
 even our servant. It was getting late, but apparently 
 no one meant to go to bed that night except Deborah 
 
 201 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and myself. We subsided at last on to our primitive 
 couches, wadded quilts on palm-leaf mattresses spread 
 out on the floor, and fell asleep to the loud grating 
 noise of the boat being dragged through the mud and 
 over the stones, whilst the men shouted instructions 
 one to the other. 
 
 We must have progressed considerably in the 
 night. 
 
 The next morning, mercifully, the river was deep 
 enough for the boat to float. Now and then a stretch 
 of rapid water carried us on at a tremendous pace. 
 By the end of the week we hope to be in Kiating. 
 Meanwhile Lao Tsong, the “ weasel,” turns us out 
 elegant repasts, in spite of the fact that we have 
 furnished him with no cooking utensils whatever, ex- 
 cept a kettle and an egg saucepan, and the simplest 
 of provisions. They say the Chinese are born cooks, 
 and equal to the French ; but they surpass the 
 French in the skill with which they succeed in making 
 “ bricks without straw,” and turn out a dainty dish 
 with ingredients which a French “ chef ” would prob- 
 ably consign to the pig-tub. The captain’s “ ko,” 
 a kind of metal cauldron over a charcoal stove, was 
 Lao Tsong’s kitchener, and by dint of cooking a large 
 number of his dishes in basins by means of steam, 
 placing one on top of the other, he contrived to 
 turn out a meal of several courses — soup, vegetables, 
 sauces, chicken, beef, and sweets. 
 
 He never missed an opportunity of going on shore to 
 do some marketing, and in the evening would come 
 
 202 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 humbly forward and request me to “ suan chang ” 
 (make up accounts). We thought of his “ squeez- 
 ing’’ propensities as he ran over the list of things 
 purchased — charcoal (2^d.), cloves (half a farthing), 
 pepper (^d.), sugar (i£d.), vegetables (|d.), oranges 
 (id.), dish-cloths (^d.), etc., etc. ; but the sum total 
 came to so small an amount, from a Western 
 point of view, that it was only by the twinkle in the 
 ferret eyes that one guessed that the able Lao 
 Tsong was adding another small feather to his private 
 nest. 
 
 At Kiating we spent a couple of days with old 
 Chcfoo acquaintances at the China Inland Mission. 
 Kiating had just awakened from its “ New Year’s ” 
 sleep, and the streets were gaily coloured pictures 
 framed in mist, narrow pavements festooned with 
 red lanterns climbing slowly uphill under elaborately 
 carved and richly ornamented memorial arches. 
 
 We spent a morning amongst the silk and fur shops 
 with our host, and after long hours I effected my 
 wished-for purchase of a fur-lined robe. It was a 
 lengthy business, and in every shop the same scene 
 was enacted. First the wished-for garments had to 
 be unearthed from some back store-house. Looking 
 them over, we detected the greasy stain of a pig-tail 
 down the centre of the back, and we remarked that 
 these garments were evidently not new. The fur- 
 riers, however, smilingly asserted that they were 
 perfectly new, and the stain was of no consequence. 
 The bargaining was conducted in so friendly a spirit 
 
 203 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 that one might have thought some big joke was going 
 on by the smiles and laughter on the part of all con- 
 cerned. Finally, four or five furriers were asked to 
 send up their respective furs to the foreigner’s house 
 for further inspection in the course of the afternoon. 
 It was a significant fact that they all came in turn 
 one after the other without ever colliding, and also 
 that all the garments brought were distinctly second- 
 hand, and the one new one never appeared at all. 
 
 The plan out here seems to be to try and get rid 
 of the rubbish first. We won the day, however, in 
 the long run, thanks to mine host and an ex-Chinese 
 merchant called in to assist. The “ new ” coat (prob- 
 ably even that was not absolutely new) was bought 
 for about five pounds, the furrier protesting angrily 
 at the very end that he did not want to sell. I sup- 
 pose that is all part of the “ contraryism ” of things 
 out here — to look angry when you are pleased, and 
 vice versa. 
 
 We passed a group of Thibetans in the street — 
 huge, wild-looking men with rough, black hair in 
 thick, curling masses and odoriferous clothing of sheep 
 and yak-skin, which had long ceased to be white. 
 One (a priest), in dingy scarlet, was buying devotional 
 trophies in a brass shop, and they were probably all 
 of them on their way to the sacred mountain Omei 
 Shan, thirty miles distant, and looked peaceable 
 enough ; but our friends told us they could soon be 
 roused to fury, and that one day a Thibetan, armed 
 with a sword and seeing a passer-by looking at him 
 
 204 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 with amused interest, whipped out his weapon and 
 would have slashed out at the spectators had they 
 not beaten a hasty retreat. 
 
 Kiating is a typical city of Szechuan — flung down 
 between two rivers and wrapped in mist ; but even 
 now in this damp, cold atmosphere beautiful flowers 
 are blooming in the gardens — tawny red orchids, 
 crimson hellebores and camellias in rich clusters of 
 colour under leafy palms, and giant teak trees which 
 tower against the sky. 
 
 The various mission schools are just recommencing 
 work after the New Year’s holidays. These seem to 
 be the only well-attended places of education in the 
 city at the present time. 
 
 A year or two ago, in the sudden craze for “ Western 
 learning,” the Government made supreme efforts to 
 start Government schools. Large sums of money 
 were expended in the erection of buildings, and such 
 was the general enthusiasm that pupils flocked in 
 numbers to avail themselves of the advantages offered, 
 but, alas ! the advantages were only offered, not given. 
 Properly qualified teachers seemed almost unobtain- 
 able. The “ professors ” engaged did little more 
 than “ profess,” and it turned out sometimes that 
 the scholars knew more than their teachers. Parents 
 naturally resented paying school fees to no purpose, 
 and the pupils this year seem to have dwindled down 
 almost, if not quite, to vanishing point. 
 
 205 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 We came in the mist and left in the mist, and 
 during our three days at Kiating never saw a sign of 
 any hill or mountain of any description, though 
 Mount Omei is less than thirty miles off and ten 
 thousand feet high. As we swept down river on 
 the swift current we passed a trio of house-boats 
 carrying a party of Canadian missionaries who 
 had been ten weeks toiling up thus far from 
 Ichang ! 
 
 One of the most picturesque bits of the river lies 
 just below Kiating. The glass-green water flows 
 under the shadow of brick-red rocks strangely ridged 
 and carved by time and flood, festooned with foliage 
 and wreathed with drooping maidenhair. Here and 
 there on rough ledges idols have been placed, which 
 look down at their own faces in the clear water 
 below. 
 
 After a while the sun breaks through the haze. 
 We are speeding down the widening river, which gives 
 forth again as clearly as a mirror the picture that has 
 burst into view of the red-tinted hills, splashed from 
 base to summit with shadowy trees, and the summer 
 sky above. Away to the west of us range above range 
 of mountains, shading from the palest grey-blue to 
 the most delicate opalescent hues and the softest 
 rose-tinted violet, give token of the splendours of 
 that land which lies between us and Thibet, and 
 which hitherto has been veiled from sight by the 
 vast and impenetrable curtain of mist. 
 
 Now and again the boat bounces like an india- 
 
 206 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 rubber ball as it plunges down the boiling eddies 
 of a rapid. 
 
 Another day on shore — this time at Sui Fu. The 
 river of golden sand (hereafter called the Yangtsc) 
 and the Min join forces at this point. The city of 
 Sui Fu, huddled together on the tops of steep banks 
 of sand, looks down on a vast stretch of water, 
 watched over by veiled mountains. 
 
 An old acquaintance of Chentu, Mr. F., of the 
 China Inland Mission, took us for an interesting 
 ramble through the streets, and we passed from things 
 gay to things sorrowful. But the shops were fascinat- 
 ing. Silver-ware, which appears to be a speciality of 
 Sui Fu, is sold by weight, an ounce for an ounce, and 
 a very little added to the price for the workmanship. 
 We watched men making the “ Kingfisher” ornaments, 
 covering by some ingenious method silver trinkets 
 with the gorgeous blue tips of a kingfisher’s feathers. 
 When finished, they have all the appearance of 
 delicate enamel-work. 
 
 We purchased some horn boxes and opium cups, 
 and artificial flowers like the girls and women wear in 
 their hair ; and this being the first month of the year, 
 all parcels were wrapped in bright red paper ! The 
 copper shops and the silk shops (silks sold by the 
 skein, another speciality of Sui Fu) attracted us not 
 a little, and we stopped with interest to look at the 
 famous insect wax which was being offered for sale 
 
 207 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in great rounded slabs, like wooden bread platters 
 in size and shape, but made of the whitest of 
 white wax. 
 
 The white wax insect has a curious history. Two 
 hundred miles from Kiating, in the valley of Chien 
 Chang, there are trees, a kind of privet they say, 
 which are covered with brown scales full of these 
 useful creatures. 
 
 Every April thousands of porters are sent from 
 Kiating to bring as many scales as they can carry 
 to hang on the “ white wax ” trees, which exist 
 in large numbers in the neighbourhood of Kiating. 
 The porters, with their precious burdens, only 
 travel at night, as the heat of the sun might 
 damage their freight. After one hundred days 
 suspended on the Kiating trees, the insects have 
 excreted the white wax in such quantities that 
 the branches present the appearance of being 
 covered with snow. These same branches are 
 lopped off, and the “ snow ” removed and placed in 
 iron pots of boiling water. When melted, the wax 
 is skimmed and sold in the round moulds which we 
 saw at Sui Fu. 
 
 Year after year the same performance goes on. 
 The creatures come into being in the Chien Chang 
 valley, and are brought to Kiating to make their 
 wax. 
 
 In the midst of the shops we came to the meeting 
 of four cross-roads. This was the execution ground, 
 right in the thickest part of the city, and last year it 
 
 208 
 
PAGODA AND VILLAGE ON THE YANGTSE 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 seems there were no less than three hundred execu- 
 tions on this very spot. There is a strange custom 
 in some parts of China which permits a condemned 
 criminal to take possession of anything that he pleases 
 from the shops along the road by which he is con- 
 ducted to the place of execution ! His movements 
 are somewhat impeded by the chain that is hung 
 about his neck and round his arms, but not sufficiently 
 so to prevent him from making use of his privilege 
 if he so desires. 
 
 The “ Fu Yamen ” (official residence of the highest 
 mandarin of the city) seemed a fitting sequel to the 
 execution ground. VVe mingled with the eager 
 crowd of spectators and looked across the empty 
 courtyard dividing us and them from the hall of 
 judgment, in which we could see the Fu himself 
 sitting in state on the judgment seat, whilst an abject, 
 shrivelled figure knelt on the ground in front. Yamen 
 soldiers in their bright scarlet uniforms were in 
 attendance, and others whom we could not see dis- 
 tinctly. 
 
 The case was a serious one. Fourteen men had 
 been convicted of having put to death an entire 
 family in order to rob them of their wealth. In the 
 course of their trial they accused the three elders 
 of the village of having incited them to do the deed. 
 The “ hsien ” magistrate, who usually tries these cases, 
 had passed it on to the Fu magistrate. If the Fu 
 also failed, it would be passed on again to the 
 Viceroy of the province, but the Fu, on his 
 
 209 
 
 p 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 mettle, was determined to succeed. The trial 
 of the fourteen men was over. They were con- 
 demned to death, and were probably half dead 
 already from the tortures to which they had been 
 subjected in order to make them confess. The con- 
 viction or acquittal of the elders was the matter at 
 present in hand. Supposing them to be innocent, it 
 would cost them a fortune to prove the fact, and 
 rumour goes that they will probably end by forfeiting 
 their lives from confessions, true or otherwise , wrung 
 from them by torture. 
 
 These sons of the “ Celestial Land ” seem to live on 
 a kind of volcano. We passed on to another tragedy 
 of a different nature, and entering a building in orna- 
 mental grounds, which used to be a temple and is 
 now the club-house of the most influential com- 
 mercial guild of the city, we came upon a festive 
 crowd and extensive preparations for a grand feast. 
 Groups of richly dressed men in silk and fur stood 
 around in the front hall, where the God of Litera- 
 ture and the Emperor’s Ancestral Tablet were 
 enshrined. 
 
 It was explained to us that these gorgeous “ butter- 
 flies ” were the “ friends ” of one of the principal 
 bankers of the town who had recently gone bank- 
 rupt ! His ruin had been brought about by the 
 merciless spite of an enemy who had started false 
 reports and induced a sudden “ run ” on the 
 bank, which the banker was unable to meet. His 
 “ friends ” had undertaken to see if anything could 
 
 210 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 be saved for the creditors, and the grand feast 
 in preparation in the back premises must be paid 
 for by the ruined banker in acknowledgment of 
 their services ! 
 
 From bankers we turned our attention to the 
 barbers, many of whom, like London shoe-blacks, 
 ply their trade out in the open. A barber in 
 China will not only shave his customer, but give 
 him a course of massage if he so desires. The forty 
 “ cash ” for a shave (a little less than a penny) 
 will include a cleansing of the eyes and ears. The 
 latter undergo a kind of scraping, and the former are 
 treated equally drastically, the eyelids turned up and 
 rubbed with a small implement that has a projection 
 the size of a pea at the end of it. Although it often 
 causes inflammation, the idea that this treatment is 
 necessary to their well-being is firmly rooted in the 
 mind of the Chinese. 
 
 Sui Fu seems to have distinguished itself in the 
 anti-foot-binding crusade owing to the example of one 
 of the mandarins who worked hard in the cause, 
 writing pamphlets on the subject and leaving no 
 stone unturned to bring about reforms. The upper 
 and middle classes in the city have, with very few 
 exceptions, given up the revolting custom, and only 
 quite the lowest amongst the people still cling to it, 
 probably from the dread that daughters with un- 
 bound feet might be looked upon as slave-girls. 
 
 21 1 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 To-day has been a gala day. That “ queer thing 
 in the sky,” as the Ch’ong King child called it, has 
 been shining from morn till eve. We drifted along 
 in the shimmering light, down the wide, smooth 
 river between low hills dotted with dark trees, and 
 bright with the golden yellow flower of the “ Iu 
 Tsai.” 
 
 We lingered for a few sleepy hours outside the 
 picturesque town of Lucheo, watching the varied 
 blues and greens of the market on the sandy shore, 
 where eager groups of men in blue cotton gowns bar- 
 gained for vegetables and sugar-cane. 
 
 A neighbouring boatman begged me to take a 
 photo of his boat, and looked sadly disappointed and 
 rather incredulous when I said I had taken it and had 
 nothing to show. 
 
 Sunday — in the rain and the mist again ; but we 
 have had a pleasant day, nevertheless, at the mission 
 station of Kiang Tsin, and a not uninteresting walk 
 through the ancient graveyards on the hill at the 
 back of the town. We were pointed out grave- 
 stones consisting of a stone slab, with a worn tablet 
 in the centre, over two hundred and fifty years 
 old, dating from the last dynasty, and more 
 picturesque than these — terraced graves in which 
 the oblong stone recesses of the coffins were built 
 in rows one above the other, and the whole erection 
 covered with earth, but the earth had worn away 
 
 212 
 
EMBANKMENT OF BAMBOO BASKETS 
 

China as I Saw It 
 
 with the years, and even the coffins had turned to 
 dust. There were others, the outer walls of which 
 had crumbled away altogether, displaying to view 
 little suites of tiny stone chambers in which nothing 
 but a bone or two remained, and where apparently 
 occasional beggars lived and had their being. In 
 this land of demon-worship I am told that there 
 are men who go out and live amongst the graves 
 for months at a time in communion with evil 
 spirits ! 
 
 Kiang Tsin is not progressive like Sui Fu. A few 
 years ago an attempt was made to do away with foot- 
 binding, but lately it has come into fashion again 
 with renewed force. As to opium-smoking, the drug 
 having grown too expensive for any but the wealthy 
 to smoke, the poorer folk have taken to eating it 
 instead. When eaten , a lesser quantity is sufficient, 
 but the effects are said to be far more deleterious. 
 
 We hoped to get to Ch’ong King to-day, but 
 the wind was blowing a gale — the men could 
 make no headway. “ Tseo puh teh ! ” they said 
 (“ Go not attain ! ”), and curled up and went to 
 sleep. 
 
 Later on in the day, by a supreme effort the boat 
 was got across the river and moored in a sheltered 
 cove below a small country town — a town of crowded 
 houses on the top of a sandy ridge crowned by a 
 temple amongst banyan trees, and looking down on 
 
 213 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to the sandy shore strewn with timber new and old, 
 where boat-building was in progress. 
 
 Deborah and I ventured forth with Lao Tsong in 
 attendance. As we mounted the long flights of steps 
 leading to the streets we could see from every point 
 of vantage above our heads motionless groups of men 
 and women standing as though petrified, staring like 
 puzzled cows at this curious apparition in their midst 
 of two foreigners dropped from the skies. As we 
 advanced we perceived messengers despatched in 
 every direction to announce our coming. As we 
 passed they fell in behind us, masses of them. It was 
 like some vast army tramping through the streets of 
 a deserted city, for every door was barred, every 
 shutter closed. 
 
 Lao Tsong explained that they were still cele- 
 brating the New Year’s holiday. Yet four weeks have 
 gone by since New Year’s Day ! 
 
 “ Familiarity breeds contempt.” And the crowd 
 answered banteringly, while Lao Tsong tried to keep 
 order in the front ranks. It seemed best to beat a 
 dignified retreat, so, taking the first road that led 
 riverwards, we went back to our boat. Looking up 
 from the shore, the whole length of the steep street, 
 to the highest point visible between the houses, was 
 one slowly moving mass of human beings following 
 in our wake. They gathered in dense crowds round 
 the boat. We shut the doors at either end of the 
 arched tunnel of matting which roofed over our beds 
 and boxes, and sat down on our palm-leaf mattresses 
 
 214 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in the dark. A loud knocking called Lao Tsong to 
 the rescue, and behold a deputation of women who 
 had come to “ shuah ” (have a chat). 
 
 They had never seen a foreigner before, they said, and 
 eagerly the spokeswoman of the party seized my hand, 
 remarked on the colour of my skin, felt the thickness 
 of my sleeve, and enquired if my rings were made of 
 gold. Lao Tsong was very diplomatic. He answered 
 all questions gently and politely, and ushered the 
 would-be callers back to the shore, where a dense 
 crowd of men, like baffled hounds, stood and gazed 
 with straining, eager eyes. 
 
 It was a relief when the darkness came and sent 
 them back to their homes. There had been “ words ” 
 between the boatmen and some of the more restive 
 spectators, and one feared the words might end in 
 blows or stone-throwing. 
 
 Once again we are at Ch’ong King, and we arrived 
 just in time to be present at a Chinese wedding. 
 You would have been amused could you have seen 
 the invitation. A sheet of scarlet paper in a long 
 scarlet and gold envelope. We were told we should 
 answer it either by sending a present or taking one 
 with us to the ceremony. 
 
 Wedding guests usually bring money, either cash 
 or silver ; the latter is placed on a table just 
 inside the door, and the former flung down in a 
 corner on the floor. No one goes empty-handed 
 
 215 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to a wedding feast. At many feasts the guests 
 practically pay in full for all that they eat and 
 drink ! 
 
 Tsin Li Lien’s wedding was held in the Mission 
 compound, as both she and the bridegroom are 
 especial proteges of our friends here. To the hum of 
 voices and the sound of nasal music, the bridal chair, 
 covered with embroidered scarlet silk, was carried in 
 at the gates, and in due course the curtain in front 
 was raised and the bride, a cowed and clumsy figure 
 in magenta-pink garments of wadded silk touched 
 up with scarlet, stepped forth, looking dazed and 
 stupefied. But this was quite as it should be. Unless 
 a Chinese bride appears absolutely miserable and 
 dejected she is thought to be unmaidenly and ill- 
 bred. Her head, moreover, was weighed down by 
 a species of high crown of red and blue and tinsel, 
 ending in a heavy fringe, which dangled forlornly in 
 front of her face, hidden already by a silk veil. No 
 wonder she tottered awkwardly into the church, as 
 she was practically blindfolded. 
 
 An elderly female relative acted as mistress of the 
 ceremonies and piloted her along till she was finally 
 placed by the side of the bridegroom. He was a short, 
 spare man, with a pinched face, large lips, and a 
 massive forehead, and the appearance of his wedding 
 garments, of some dark-hued silk, was entirely spoilt 
 by a number of scarlet sashes wound round his chest 
 and back, and tied in huge, clumsy bows below the 
 shoulders. These sashes are a sign of popularity — 
 
 216 
 
BRIDAL PAIR AT CHONG KING WEDDING 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the more friends you have, the more sashes you are 
 supposed to wear. 
 
 Instead of the ring ceremony a native custom was 
 adhered to, and a small glass of wine handed first to 
 the bridegroom, who put it to his lips, and secondly 
 to the elderly relative, who made a feint of putting 
 it to the bride’s lips also. The performance was 
 gone through again, only the other way about, first 
 the bride and then the bridegroom. The marriage 
 service over, the “ happy pair ” walked miserably 
 out of the church, and now, for the first time in their 
 lives (nominally if not in reality), they saw each other 
 face to face, but only for a minute or so. 
 
 Two more ceremonies had still to be gone through. 
 In an adjoining room, seated side by side at a table 
 planked against the scroll-decorated wall, and with 
 their backs to the assembled company, the bride and 
 bridegroom sat disconsolately before basins of syrup 
 in which boiled eggs peeled of their shells floated 
 uninvitingly. The bride’s veil had been removed. 
 She sat with downcast head, looking at the eggs, 
 which she was evidently not expected to eat, whilst 
 the elderly female relative touched the bridegroom 
 on the shoulder and urged him to make haste. He 
 thereupon seized his chop-sticks, and placing one of 
 his eggs in a third basin, which he handed to his 
 monitor, he hastily swallowed down the remaining 
 two, sprang up, saluted the guests, and departed. 
 But his duties were not yet over. 
 
 A few minutes later the forlorn pair were standing 
 
 217 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 side by side in the room in which the egg rite had 
 been performed, with their backs to the company and 
 their faces towards the wall. The master of the 
 ceremonies called each guest by name, and each in 
 turn stepped in, and standing where the bride and 
 bridegroom could see them, saluted in Chinese fashion. 
 The bridegroom returned the salute ; the bride 
 studied the ground with eyes cast down in sorrow and 
 humility. 
 
 Then, after a prolonged interval, we were invited 
 to the feast ; the men sat in one guest-hall, and all 
 the rest of us in the other, seated at round tables 
 scattered about the room. The centre of each table 
 was spread with Lilliputian dishes, fifteen or sixteen 
 in number, filled with dainties of various kinds, such 
 as eggs that were some years old, pale green in colour 
 and rather nice, fishes’ fins and preserved gristle, native 
 dates and sliced oranges, and a certain “ hair vegetable,” 
 a great delicacy, said to be a species of seaweed, but 
 akin to wet black hair in texture ! 
 
 The sweets and nuts came first in orthodox Chinese 
 fashion ; then course followed course, each dish more 
 substantial than the rest. The meat and herb dump- 
 lings had a suet crust, dabbed in the centre with 
 bright red, the wedding colour. The chicken stew 
 was palatable, but the sea slugs which followed were 
 so large and white and slimy that my jaws grew stiff 
 at the thought of them. 
 
 Half-way through, a basin of hot water was handed 
 round, in which we all rinsed our porcelain spoons, 
 
 218 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 preparatory to helping ourselves to a dish of lotus 
 seeds, about the size of small poppy heads, floating 
 in sweet syrup. After the lotus seeds everybody 
 began again with fresh vigour. Refuse was swept off 
 the table on to the floor, and the table was littered 
 afresh with greasy odds and ends, basins of rice were 
 handed round, pork and baked fish, bamboo shoots 
 and peas in their pods, and finally lumps of pork fried 
 in sugar, held in great esteem by our companions. 
 
 I had marvelled once or twice at the rapidity with 
 which they demolished whole dishes before I was 
 half-way through the contents of my porcelain spoon, 
 but I had forgotten the cardboard boxes. They were 
 given round to the whole party, and our friends, I 
 perceived, had packed theirs so full that it was all 
 they could do to get in a chunk or two of the sugared 
 pork. 
 
 Evidently by now they were “ chih pao liao ” (had 
 eaten enough), and, “ folding their tents like the 
 Arabs, they silently stole away.” Another point of 
 contrast between their customs and our own. Out 
 here in China conversation takes place before the 
 meal, not after, and as soon as you have had as much 
 as you want, and the dinner is at an end, you get up 
 and go ! 
 
 . . . The “ New Year ” has left its traces behind 
 it. Up on the Ch’ong King Parade Ground on a fine 
 afternoon people are still holiday-making. The little 
 girls have their shuttlecocks, fanciful editions of 
 Western shuttlecocks, tipped by a few brown feathers, 
 
 219 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 which curl over gracefully. No battledore is required ; 
 the small maiden, with wonderful ingenuity, hits the 
 shuttlecock with the side of her little foot — and a 
 bound, hoof-like foot seems as serviceable as any 
 other. The boys have kites, and the adults have kites, 
 and fly them with admirable skill. 
 
 The kites are of every shape and form, from those 
 as big as a man to small ones made like butterflies. 
 It is amusing to watch a dignified paterfamilias 
 launching his toy from the top of the city wall, 
 handling it carefully, until finally it soars aloft and 
 drifts like a great crimson bird over the grave-strewn 
 cemetery. 
 
 A kind of Chinese “Tom Tiddler’s Ground” seems 
 to be in vogue amongst the boys, but the Chinese 
 “ Tom Tiddler ” spreads himself out flat on the grass 
 and tries to trip up trespassers with his feet. 
 
 We, too, have been holiday-making, picnicking on 
 the top of the hills on the other side of the river. 
 It was interesting to see Ch’ong King from another 
 point of view, the tangled mass of curved roofs and 
 weather-beaten walls climbing the steep hillside — 
 standing on tip-toe, as it were, leaning over each other 
 to look down on to the swiftly flowing waters of the 
 great river. From afar off, veiled in golden haze, the 
 black mud of the narrow footways, the dripping steps 
 frequented by the never-ceasing trail of water-carriers, 
 the corners heaped high with odoriferous garbage, 
 the dismal squalor of the badly lit, mud-floored 
 houses were all invisible. 
 
 220 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 VVe ourselves were ascending a steep mountain 
 path, up, and still further up, into the glorious hill 
 country, where broad stretches of sunlight crept out 
 from shadowy bamboo groves and tracts of golden 
 crops (“ tsai iu ”), and terraced water-fields climbed 
 with us to the heights where the pine-woods reigned 
 supreme, and the air was full of the scent of pines 
 and the silence of the woods. 
 
 With the magic of a fairy tale we came suddenly 
 on a tiny house with wide verandahs and doors open 
 to receive us. This was the C.I.M. bungalow, where 
 for a couple of months every year in the great heat 
 of the summer the tired workers from the city can 
 flee for shelter, and judging by accounts, it makes all 
 the difference between health and sickness in their 
 ranks. One realises a little what that heat must be 
 in July and August. This is only the 16th March, 
 and the sun shining through the haze is delightfully 
 warm. We lunched out in the open as though it had 
 been the middle of summer. Azaleas were coming 
 into flower, and scarlet geraniums were out in blossom. 
 
 The heat is considered more trying in Ch’ong King 
 than in many other towns in this part owing to the 
 fact that the city is built on a rock. Many of the 
 streets are merely steps in the rock, worn smooth by 
 the feet of many generations. 
 
 We had many amusing excursions amongst the 
 shops of Ch’ong King with Lao Tsong in attendance. 
 It was worth the expenditure of a few cents to hear 
 the “ weasel ” bargain. After deciding on our pur- 
 
 231 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 chases we would turn to Lao Tsong and put the 
 matter into his able hands. With an air of in- 
 difference Lao Tsong enquired the price. The sales- 
 man, with great promptitude, named a sum. Lao 
 Tsong’s face expressed untold scorn. His scorn was 
 too great for words. He merely curled his nostrils 
 and showed his teeth in an ironical “ canine ” smile. 
 The salesman, with less assurance of manner, repeated 
 his words. 
 
 Lao Tsong advanced a step and let forth a volume 
 of indignant protest, finishing by offering a sum 
 about a quarter as much as that asked. 
 
 The salesman smiled sweetly, perhaps a trifle soapily, 
 and said, “ Mai puh tao ” (“ Sell not arrive ”). 
 
 The purchase in question was a length of blue 
 cotton cloth, in quantity about eleven feet. Lao 
 Tsong made an audible calculation as to how much 
 it should cost per foot. The salesman looked dreamily 
 in the air and did a little arithmetic on his own 
 account. Smilingly he lowered his price by an in- 
 finitesimal amount. Smilingly Lao Tsong raised his 
 offer correspondingly ; the crowd of onlookers pressing 
 round the door and blocking the street gave advice 
 which no one listened to. 
 
 “ Mai puh tao,” said the salesman again, and packed 
 up the things. 
 
 Lao Tsong yielded still more. 
 
 The salesman give in a few cents also. 
 
 At this point an appropriate jest may do much 
 towards effecting a compromise. When everybody 
 
 222 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 laughed, Lao Tsong made another offer, and the 
 salesman gave in once more. They went over the 
 same performance again and yet again, when suddenly 
 the salesman broke off with — 
 
 “ Mai teh ! mai teh ! ” (“ Buy attain ! ”) in the 
 tone of one who would say, “ All right ! all right ! 
 Why all this fuss ? ” 
 
 The money was counted out, the loose cash given 
 in change threaded on a string, and without any 
 parting civilities we walked out of the shop, having 
 spent over a quarter of an hour making a purchase 
 the price of which was something under a shilling. 
 
 Possibly all the time the proprietor of the shop, 
 arrayed in handsome silk garments, was sitting near 
 by, smoking his water-pipe, with his teapot close 
 beside him, saying not a word, but looking on with 
 much interest. 
 
 Once again we are preparing for a boat journey. 
 A small boat with an arched roof of matting has been 
 hired to take us as far as Ichang. The invaluable 
 Lao Tsong will go, too, and a crew of eight men, in- 
 cluding the captain. 
 
 Our kind friends here have arranged everything 
 for us. We feel we are travelling royally, with all 
 worry and trouble taken off our shoulders, and even 
 our arithmetic made easy, and we sit by with admira- 
 tion whilst the difference is worked out between 
 Shanghai dollars and Szechuan dollars,* and Ch’ong 
 
 * In China at the present time there are nineteen different kinds of 
 dollars ! 
 
 223 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 King “ taels ” are changed into Ch’ong King dollars, 
 and the silver shoes weighed and valued, and strings 
 of copper “ cash,” which look like huge brown snakes 
 made of copper, are supplied for emergencies. Lao 
 Tsong carries the copper, and wears it slung round 
 his neck like a necklace. 
 
 We started from Ch’ong King on the 17th March. 
 Our crew seemed to think we were in no hurry, and 
 the weather was bad. Three days after our start, 
 however, the sun burst through the mist, turning the 
 water into spangled silver, and robing the mountains 
 in mauve and pale amethyst and opalescent blue. 
 They were mirrored again in the river, the same 
 colours, only fainter, and above the sands and the 
 rocks along the broken shore the fields were green with 
 the spring crops, and sprinkled with the golden butter- 
 cup blossoms of the oil plant. 
 
 We came to a village grouped around the base of 
 a great rock, which stood like a giant’s castle high 
 above the houses and the trees. From base to summit 
 a wonderful temple with curved roofs, tier above 
 tier, was, as it were, glued to the face of the cliff, the 
 rock itself forming the back wall of the temple. And 
 this, we remembered, was the famous “ Shih Pao 
 Miao,” which was hidden in the mist on our journey 
 up. 
 
 We landed and climbed the long flights of steps 
 to the gates, unfortunately rousing the sleeping 
 
 224 
 
W'U-PAN ON THE YANUTSE 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 beggars to activity. On our return they barred the 
 way, stretching out leprous hands for alms. We had 
 to pay toll, a copper “ cash ” to each, before we could 
 pass. Woe betide the traveller who gives more than 
 that to a Chinese beggar ! Mounting the eight 
 flights of wooden stairs, we found ourselves in the 
 main buildings of the temple, on the top of the rock. 
 
 The walls of the first great hall were lined with 
 gilded gods under mouldy canopies. The Goddess of 
 Sight, to whom all who suffer with their eyes go for 
 help, held in her hand a large painted wooden eye 
 of hideous form. We passed by the twelve Buddhist 
 hells — small “ chambers of horror,” in which life- 
 sized models of judges presided over courts where 
 the spirits of the dead (represented also by wooden 
 models, but of dwarf stature) were being subjected 
 by horrible avenging demons to tortures indescrib- 
 able. 
 
 At the end of the courtyard a smiling priest offered 
 us tea and asked us to write our names in a book, 
 chiefly full of Chinese signatures. He conducted us 
 through to a room at the back, in which, so the story 
 goes, in years gone by a miraculous supply of rice 
 was discovered day by day in a mysterious hole. The 
 monks received the gifts the gods had sent with all 
 gratitude for a time, but at length, in an evil day, the 
 feeling of curiosity grew too strong for them. They 
 set to work to discover the secret of the mystery, and 
 lo ! the supply of rice stopped from that day forth 
 for evermore ! 
 
 Q 
 
 225 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Our priest told the tale in all good faith, and we 
 looked with interest at the hole in the floor. It was 
 about the size of a bread platter in diameter, and 
 one could not tell how deep. We wondered what its 
 original purpose could have been. It was much 
 smaller, so the priest told us, long ago ! 
 
 Sunday we spent at Wanhsien. It was a sunny day 
 again for a wonder, and the tangled streets climbing 
 the hillside seemed more crowded than ever, the 
 houses pressing forward over the narrow alley-ways. 
 Flapping scrolls, banners, and lanterns shut out all 
 the sunlight and most of the sky. The beggars, 
 covered in sores and horribly emaciated, ragged and 
 filthily dirty, hovered round like wounded birds of 
 prey. 
 
 After the halt at Wanhsien came our spin down the 
 rapids. We looked forward to them with impatience, 
 held our breath with suspense as we plunged into the 
 boiling cauldron, gasped as we slipped down with the 
 sliding torrent, and thrilled with excitement as we 
 bounded safely through the foam into smooth water. 
 The gorges, though grand and wild and rather awful, 
 had lost the beauty of the autumn foliage and were 
 weeping in the rain. The weather had turned dismal 
 again, and the only exciting moments of the day 
 were spent in shooting the rapids. 
 
 At the famous Chin Tan, however, Lao Tsong ex- 
 plained lugubriously that we should get drenched 
 through if we stayed on the boat. He proceeded to 
 cover boxes and beds with oil sheeting, and the crew 
 
 226 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 shook their heads when asked if there were danger 
 ahead. Opinions seemed unanimous that we should 
 go on shore and leave the boat and the crew to face 
 the rapid alone. 
 
 From our vantage point on the top we watched the 
 tiny boat (it looked so small amongst the tumbling 
 waves) and saw it dive into the torrent. Three times 
 it dipped its “ head ” under the water like a bird, 
 rose again with a bound, and finally shot like an arrow 
 from the boiling foam and was swept on by the 
 current. 
 
 We walked for hours before we came up with it 
 again. Our boatmen were wreathed in smiles, the 
 “ ta shui ” (rough water) had not been half as bad 
 as they expected ; they had got a little wet, that was 
 all, and we might just as well have stayed on board. 
 
 On Thursday we found ourselves back at Ichang, in 
 a changed world, and here we are still travelling on 
 the Yangtse, still journeying by boat ; but the boat 
 is an English steamer smelling of Aspinall’s enamel, 
 and the river is shorn of its gorges and its amethyst 
 mountains, and is melting away more and more 
 into mud. We have come back to the study in 
 sepia ! 
 
 On board there are two young men whom I first 
 mistook for Japanese. They turned out to be Chinese 
 engineers, who are going to Hankow, or rather Han- 
 yang, to buy rails for the proposed line to Szechuan. 
 We have heard a good deal about this railway ; it is 
 by far the most expensive thing of the kind contem- 
 
 227 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 plated in China, and at present hangs fire for want 
 of funds. Our young engineers very naturally took 
 an optimistic view of its future, but I believe there 
 is only money enough at present to construct a few 
 hundred yards. 
 
 Yours ever, 
 
 V. 
 
 228 
 
Gankin, 
 
 March , 1908. 
 
 One more glimpse of a Chinese town before we 
 leave the Yangtse, and though Gankin is many 
 hundreds of miles nearer the coast than Ichang, it 
 seemed to me, as we landed in the darkness of the night 
 into a howling crowd of excited Chinese on a river- 
 side wharf, that we had leapt back with a bound into 
 the far interior. We had asked to be allowed to stay 
 at the China Inland Mission Station, but it was some 
 time before our repeated requests for sedan-chairs 
 took effect, the trouble being that the city gates 
 would be closed before the chair-bearers could get 
 back again to their houses. At last some were forth- 
 coming, and we were borne through the riverside 
 suburb into a deserted city of black alley-ways and 
 windowless buildings, where “ the very houses seemed 
 asleep.” 
 
 The police on the wharf looked on us with a good 
 deal of suspicion. It was explained afterwards that 
 the place was full of revolutionaries, and ever since 
 the assassination of the Governor of the province 
 less than a year ago by one of their number (a Gankin 
 student), the authorities had been especially suspicious 
 of new arrivals. 
 
 229 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Those had been stirring times in the city. On the 
 day of his assassination the Governor was attending 
 some function at a Government school. The student 
 gave himself up, and made no secret of his intention. 
 He was in due course beheaded, and his heart taken 
 out and offered as a sacrifice to the dead body of his 
 victim. According to law the heart should have been 
 extracted before the execution, instead of after, and 
 the man held responsible for this omission was severely 
 punished ! An insurrection in the town was quelled 
 with some difficulty. The shots whizzed over the 
 Mission compound where we are now staying, and 
 for an hour or two it was hard to tell which way 
 things would go. 
 
 We were at Gankin for the Ching Ming Festival 
 (Festival of the Dead), the sixth of the third moon, 
 and walking along the top of the city wall (usually 
 the cleanest and most odourless place in the city), we 
 kept coming across graves and their worshippers. 
 It was somewhat surprising to find graves at all on the 
 inner side of the wall. Possibly in some cases they were 
 temporary ones and the bodies would be removed at 
 a later date. Strewn here and there were coffins await- 
 ing interment, which had been indefinitely postponed 
 either for want of money or for family reasons. 
 
 At the foot of the grass-grown wall a man, busy 
 lighting a number of tiny fires of incense sticks and 
 paper money, told us that his parents and ancestors 
 were all buried there under the ground, though there 
 was no mark to indicate the spot. 
 
 230 
 
A MANDARIN WITH HIS ATTENDANTS 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 A melancholy wailing continuing ceaselessly at- 
 tracted our attention to a woman who was rocking 
 backwards and forwards on her knees over newly 
 turned sods. 
 
 It is at this Ching Ming Festival that masses are 
 sung, and food brought to the spirits of the dead to 
 stave off the pangs of hunger through the coming 
 year. In honour of the occasion an immense pro- 
 cession passed through the streets. From our windows 
 we could see the scarlet umbrellas, shaped like gigantic 
 lampshades, and banners floating in the breeze. In 
 gorgeous red sedan-chairs idols sat in state. The city 
 god was being escorted out to the regions beyond 
 the city walls, so that “ he ” might see that all was 
 in order throughout the length and breadth of his 
 domain ! In the procession musicians many and vari- 
 ous gave forth the sounds of a score of bagpipes and 
 half a score of drums, playing out of tune. 
 
 The comic element was much in evidence. A 
 giant, as primitive in its make-up as the lion in the 
 Midsummer Night’s Dream , was represented by frame- 
 work supported on a man’s shoulders, clothed in such 
 a manner as to give the idea of the head and body of 
 a giant on the legs of a man ; and in a gap made in 
 the clothing the face of the man peered out, de- 
 stroying all illusions. 
 
 We went out to see dear H.’s grave in the little 
 “ foreign ” cemetery, five “ li ” beyond the city walls. 
 We passed from the crowded street into^the Great 
 Peking Road, a rough path of broken flagstones, five 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 feet wide, between desolate vegetable patches. Ahead 
 of us the Dragon Mountain stood out in a bold mass 
 against the sky — blue and mysterious, beyond the 
 fields of golden “ oil plant ” and the vast, billowy 
 stretches of grass-grown graves. 
 
 A stone wall has recently been built around the 
 “ foreign ” cemetery, causing great consternation 
 amongst the officials, who tried to wreak their wrath 
 on the native Christian who had “ dared ” to sell land 
 to the “foreigner.” Amongst the handful of graves 
 in this lonely spot there is one of an American sailor 
 from a gunboat. His “ foreign ” coffin was similar 
 to the cases in which the Chinese store firearms. 
 They were persuaded that the “ foreigners” were seiz- 
 ing this opportunity of smuggling firearms into the 
 place, and storing them away in the walled-in ceme- 
 tery under the pretence of burying an American 
 sailor. In course of time, according to American 
 custom, it is possible that the coffin may be removed 
 to its “ native ” land. It is sincerely hoped that in 
 this case the grave will be allowed to remain undis- 
 turbed, as a move of that kind would only strengthen 
 suspicions in the mind of the Chinese ; and in these 
 days of distrust and unrest the least thing may create 
 a disturbance. 
 
 In Gankin one finds a curious mixture of ignorant 
 superstition and advanced thought. We were pointed 
 out the great buildings of a mint, furnished with 
 machinery for generating electricity. Already there 
 is electric light in the Yamens, and the streets are to 
 
 232 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 follow suit before long. The police force, in semi- 
 Western uniforms and German military caps, looks 
 distinctly smart and efficient. Many of the citizens, 
 they say, have given up idolatry, but have drifted 
 away from faith of every kind. 
 
 There are three to four thousand Mahommedans 
 in the city, especially noticeable by the traveller for 
 gastronomical reasons. In Chinese cities where there 
 are no Mahommedans pork is the only meat to be got, 
 but in Gankin both beef and pork are purchasable. 
 
 The Americans have been making great efforts to gain 
 an influence for good over this anti-“ foreign ” city. 
 They have opened a school for boys, and apparently 
 do not lack for pupils, and have erected a splendid hos- 
 pital, furnished with all the latest improvements. The 
 Chinese, from the officials downwards, came in eager 
 crowds to celebrate the opening of this palatial build- 
 ing, but have been slow at present in taking advantage 
 of the benefits offered. The patients just now are 
 drawn only from the lowest classes, who are either 
 treated gratis or their expenses defrayed by friends. 
 
 We had intended going up the celebrated Gankin 
 Pagoda, but the rain came down in sheets — morning, 
 noon, and night — deluging the city. It leaked in 
 through the roof of our friends’ house and trickled 
 down the walls. 
 
 We had to catch the steamer that night for Shang- 
 hai, and as Gankin is not an open port, none but the 
 Chinese merchant steamers come alongside the wharf. 
 To get on to the others one must trust oneself to 
 
 233 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the mercies of a small boat, and board the steamer as 
 it slackens speed, but does not stop, out in the open 
 river. Our sedan-chairs were borne through the 
 darkness to the water-side between ten o’clock and 
 midnight, our bearers apparently wading through 
 deep floods by the sound of the splashing and the 
 gurgling water. Finally we were bumped down in a 
 melancholy tobacconist’s shop with a herd of fellow- 
 passengers to await the coming of the steamer. 
 
 For half an hour or more we sat waiting, shivering 
 with cold, watching the sleepy shop-assistants making 
 up tiny parcels of tobacco by the dim light of native 
 lamps. Then followed one of the most uncomfortable 
 moments of our journeyings in China. Moving lights 
 in the centre of the river announced the steamer. 
 Fumbling down a slimy slope of mud in the darkness, 
 and across a slippery plank, we stepped into a wide, 
 shallow boat, already tightly packed with Chinese 
 and their bundles. There was no room to sit, there 
 was hardly room to breathe. Wedged in by our 
 fellow-passengers, we stood swaying backwards and 
 forwards in one homogeneous mass as the boat 
 plunged and rocked through the storm-tossed river. 
 The rain was sweeping down in torrents, and, blown 
 by the wind, it seemed as though we must inevitably 
 have been swamped by the moving steamer, which 
 lay ahead of us like an illuminated island swaying in 
 the shadowy waters. Just as the yelling of the boat- 
 men rose to its highest pitch, we made a dive for the 
 side of the vessel and missed the right point ; but 
 
 234 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the sailors on board threw out ropes and the situation 
 was saved. Helping hands hauled us up on to a deck, 
 and a ship’s officer announced that on such a bad night 
 they had hardly expected any Chinese passengers, 
 far less any foreign ones ; and he inveighed against 
 the foolhardy way in which these small boats, crowded 
 far beyond their capacity, are sent out in all weathers 
 to sink or swim. 
 
 And now we are nearing Shanghai — the outside 
 country, as it is called by some of the inland people — 
 and are leaving the “ Flowery Land ” for the “ East 
 Sea Kingdom.” * How delightful it would be if 
 you could join us there. You say there is just a 
 chance. 
 
 ( Interval of several months.) 
 
 * Japan. 
 
 235 
 
Chefoo. 
 
 How wise of you to leave Japan before the 
 rainy season. We waited a whole fortnight longer, 
 and the deluge which commenced on Monday lasted 
 for fourteen days, and was still going on with re- 
 doubled rigour when we came away. 
 
 We should have returned to China via Korea ; 
 I wanted to badly, but the boat I had in my mind 
 Deborah refused to catch, because — “ the washing 
 had not come home.” 
 
 I suppose there were other reasons as well. 
 
 Anyway, here we are back in China. 
 
 Shanghai in July was in a state of loathsome per- 
 spiration. We arrived late in the evening, and as we 
 drove down the dimly lit streets, the open-fronted 
 shops seemed literally oozing with a fleshy mass of 
 bare-backed human beings streaming with heat. 
 Some were resting after the day’s work, others were 
 being barbered, others were smoking, and the crowd 
 swelled visibly. The faint, sickly smell of opium 
 mingled with the musty odour of mouse-traps and 
 black-beetles, which comes, they say, from the oil 
 used in cooking, and is never wholly absent from a 
 Chinese street. 
 
 The next day we perceived a great change to have 
 
 236 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 come over the town. The seething mass of coolies, 
 the burden-bearers, the wheelbarrows, the rickshaws, 
 all edged to one side or the other, whilst whizzing 
 down the middle of the road came the “ lightning 
 carriage.” When these electric cars were first started 
 there were many accidents. It is related that rickshaw 
 coolies, hearing the clanging of the bell, fled precipi- 
 tately, leaving their “ fares ” on the rails to be run 
 over. 
 
 We came on to Chefoo to be cool, but the residents 
 say they have never known such heat for twenty 
 years. Everybody, from the sewing-woman who sits 
 sewing for us on the balcony to the bishop in the 
 little English church, carries a fan. It seems that in 
 this country of forms and ceremonies even the fan 
 denotes the social standing of its owner. There is 
 the scholar’s fan, on which learned sayings are in- 
 scribed in gilded characters, and the tradesman’s fan — 
 a light, willowy construction of thin black silk, with 
 slender slats of an especially fine quality of bamboo, 
 and the palm-leaf fan of the coolie and the sewing- 
 woman. A lady, as a rule, will have a silken fan — 
 either painted or embroidered, of the screen-like 
 shape of the dried palm-leaf. A mandarin suits his 
 to his costume, and his costume to the time of year. 
 At a given date, no matter what the weather may be 
 like, the wadded winter garments are exchanged for 
 summer silk and gauze. It is altogether unseemly to 
 wear a winter silk (of heavy make) in the summer, or 
 vice versa. The Chinese maintain that we foreigners 
 
 237 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 fan ourselves too quickly ; they think they get 
 much better results by the opposite method of 
 procedure. 
 
 The “ queue ” is, apparently, as significant as the fan. 
 A scholar, for instance, would never lower himself in 
 the eyes of the public by displaying a thick head of 
 hair. A thin and scraggy pig-tail is one of the recog- 
 nised symbols of high thinking and low living. A man 
 of wealth and leisure, on the contrary, must be plump 
 and sleek, with a thick, well-groomed plait. The 
 Yamen runners consider a long fat “ queue ” as part 
 of their outfit. It betokens strength and valour, com- 
 bined with high living and low thinking. How the 
 naturally lean man acquires his adipose tissue, or a 
 rotund scholar gets rid of it, history does not relate. 
 The enlargement of the pig-tail is an easy matter 
 enough, as artificial hair is for sale in every town, and 
 can be woven in so dexterously that it is not easy to 
 detect its presence. Some men — chiefly young men — 
 allow the hair at the nape of the neck to grow out in 
 a long straight fringe ; at the same time the “ queue ” 
 is plaited loosely and untidily. The fashion is extra- 
 ordinarily unbecoming, and means, moreover, that 
 the man is something of a dandy and belongs to a 
 “ fast ” set. 
 
 It is the middle of August, and according to the 
 Chinese calendar the autumn has begun, but the 
 heat is greater than ever. The thermometer registers 
 eighty-eight in the early morning, and goes up to 
 ninety-six or so in the coolest places one can find. 
 
 238 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The scissor - grinders * are enjoying themselves 
 thoroughly. In the grove of willows below tire house 
 the shrill screech of the myriads in the branches is 
 like the screech of a million slate-pencils on a million 
 slates. One can hardly hear one’s own voice. The 
 ground under the trees is strewn with the crackly, 
 transparent brown shells from which the songsters 
 have recently withdrawn their presence. Their 
 musical powers do not thoroughly develop until they 
 have discarded this suit of armour. The Chinese 
 keep scissor-grinders as “ domestic pets.” They house 
 them in little boxes, and pit them against each other 
 in fighting matches. It is even said that in some parts 
 of the country scissor-grinders are used as watch-dogs 
 to guard the house from thieves, which may account, 
 perhaps, for the attention lavished on them. They 
 give the signal of an approaching footstep by a 
 sudden, impressive silence, instead of an increase of 
 sound. 
 
 I have been amusing myself lately learning to 
 write “ character.” My gaunt, hungry-looking teacher, 
 with nails more than half an inch long, has been 
 initiating me into some of the mysteries of Chinese 
 letter-writing. The chief aim of a friendly corre- 
 spondent seems to be to string together a number of 
 high-sounding words which, under the circumstances, 
 mean practically nothing, and above all, to avoid 
 giving any personal news. If, however, there is some 
 little matter which cannot be ignored, he must 
 
 * Cicadas. 
 
 239 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 mention it as briefly as possible, hiding the dry 
 bones of fact in empty complimentary phrases. 
 A letter written in the easy natural style approved of 
 in Western lands, and containing interesting informa- 
 tion, would not only fail to give pleasure, but might 
 very likely be a cause of offence, and would certainly 
 be looked upon as a mark of ignorance on the part of 
 the writer. 
 
 I occasionally receive a letter from my “ sun bride ” 
 at Teng Cheo Fu. Her letters are written according 
 to the approved pattern, and the one of six months 
 ago and that of yesterday are practically interchange- 
 able. They begin in this way: “Gracious Teacher, 
 Great One, Unlimited Joy, Perfect Peace,” and at 
 this point, and at intervals throughout the letter, two 
 small characters are inserted at the side, which stand 
 for “ Female Disciple.” She goes on to say that 
 “ Gracious Teacher ” has “ wasted her heart,” that 
 she — the disciple — constantly thinks of her, that at 
 the school she has peace and hopes for wisdom to 
 study, and after launching forth into good wishes on 
 my behalf, signs her name of “ Tiao long Hua,” 
 and indicates that, folding her hands humbly inside 
 her sleeves, she respectfully does me homage. I 
 quake to think how barbarous and uncouth my 
 reply will sound to her, and try to soften my bald 
 phrases by adding a little Chinese polish culled from 
 my gaunt teacher, who would gladly have written 
 the letter on his own account. Annoyed with me for 
 declining his services, he ceased to take any interest 
 
 240 
 
China as 1 Saw It 
 
 in the matter, and sharpened his long nails on the 
 wall and fanned himself. 
 
 “ Virtuous Female Disciple,” I said, “ Know fully,” 
 and ended up with “ purposely this,” and “ no other 
 words to speak,” “ May you have peace.” 
 
 They say it takes many years to acquire a proficiency 
 in Chinese caligraphy. The brush which forms the 
 pen requires very delicate handling, and has to be 
 held straight upright and worked from the elbow. 
 In forming the characters it seemed to me that the 
 first stroke (or that which Westerners would naturally 
 make the first) came last, and vice versa. I argued 
 that the final result was the same, but the teacher 
 only shook his head and would allow no devia- 
 tion from custom. I filled his heart with delight 
 finally by asking him to address the envelope. 
 It took him some time to do this, at which you 
 will hardly be surprised when you realise its com- 
 plications. On the front side these words were 
 inscribed : — 
 
 “ Lo S'f Niang ” (my Chinese name) “ sends a 
 letter.” (One would have thought that wholly 
 superfluous.) 
 
 “ For female pupil long Hua to receive and tear 
 o-pen ! ” 
 
 “ At Wei St Niang School for Girls.” 
 
 “ Sent to reach Teng Cheo Fu inside the city 
 walls to an outside Kingdom place.” 
 
 On the back side the following enigmatical state- 
 ments were made : — 
 
 R 
 
 241 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 “ The Ninth Branch.” 
 
 “ The Fifth Heavenly Stem ” ; and further : — 
 
 “ The Seventh moon, twenty-third day.” 
 
 “ From the East Hill at Chefoo.” 
 
 “ Sealed ! ” 
 
 In China, as you know, time is divided into cycles 
 of sixty years. The ten stems and the twelve branches 
 are gone through over and over again before the 
 sixty years are up — the former six times and the latter 
 five. So the Ninth Branch and the Sixth Heavenly 
 Stem on the envelope simply means the thirty-fifth 
 year of the present cycle. Besides these ways of 
 calculating time, there are twelve “ symbolical ” 
 animals presiding over the years and days, and cor- 
 responding with the twelve branches. By telling 
 a Chinese the animal which ruled over the year of 
 your birth, after a moment’s reflection he will tell 
 you your age at the present time. 
 
 My learned B.A., with his long nails, reminds me 
 of another Peking graduate whose home we visited 
 the other day. His business in life is, however, not 
 educational, but agricultural. In China society is 
 roughly divided into four classes — scholars, farmers, 
 artisans, and last and least, tradesmen. To quote the 
 “ Sacred Edict ” : — 
 
 “ Agriculturists, the world over, are styled the 
 source of power, whilst tradesmen are spoken of as 
 accessories.” 
 
 Wei Sien Seng, our new acquaintance, seemed a 
 person of no little importance. We were conducted 
 
 242 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 through the vineyards surrounding his house, gather- 
 ing the grapes, green, golden, and purple, on our 
 way. The guest-room into which we were shown was 
 arranged in semi-foreign, semi-Chinese style, of all 
 styles the most unattractive, but from the point of 
 view of a modern Chinese extremely “ ti-mien ” 
 (smart). A harmonium and a bicycle formed the 
 most conspicuous articles of “ furniture.” Chairs 
 were placed around a table laden with fruit and cakes, 
 with common Anglo-Japanese cups and saucers, 
 instead of the usual dainty Chinese porcelain, and a 
 cupboard with glass doors was evidently a proud 
 possession. Its shelves were filled from end to end 
 with cheap Brummagem ornaments, foreign photo- 
 graphs in cardboard frames, and other rubbish. 
 It would be interesting to know whether an educated 
 Chinese would look at the heterogeneous collection 
 of Chinese and Japanese curios in an ordinary English 
 drawing-room with the same feelings which arose in 
 our minds at this weird jumble of worthless English 
 knick-knacks in this Chinese interior. 
 
 Wei Sien Seng’s wife, whom we had not the pleasure 
 of seeing, is a very exceptional woman. With her own 
 money she has built a small school, and furnished it 
 with all necessaries, at one end of the gardens, and in 
 it she teaches gratis for a few hours daily a dozen or 
 so small children from neighbouring cottages, who 
 otherwise would get no education at all. 
 
 The cry for education is being answered in one way 
 or another all over China. Here and there the answer 
 
 243 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 takes an unexpected form. A few days ago we went 
 to see a very different type of establishment to Wei S'l 
 Niang’s humble little “ Dame School,” namely, 
 the Naval College, founded and partly built by Yuen 
 Shi Kai, one of the leading statesmen of the day. 
 Up on the hills, behind the foreign settlement, we 
 had long noticed a cluster of native buildings one 
 story high, all fresh paint and plaster, bright, white, 
 and shining, surrounded by grass land and enclosed 
 in white walls. Last year it was still unfinished, this 
 year it is full of naval cadets, and visitors can get 
 permission to go over it. We arrived to find our- 
 selves expected. Two smart young Chinese naval 
 officers, in trim white duck uniforms, which showed up 
 to full advantage their long black “ queues,” bowed 
 us into the guest-hall — a long room furnished in the 
 style of a second-rate English boarding-house. The 
 table in the centre was covered by a garish cloth, 
 and surrounded by chairs and Japanese black and 
 gold screens. Tea was brought in in Chinese style, 
 and lemonade and mineral water served in tumblers 
 in foreign style. Meanwhile the conversation, held 
 in English, was a little strained. Our hosts put pointed 
 questions in the Chinese fashion, asked where we had 
 come from and where we were going to, but knew 
 enough of English etiquette, apparently, not to 
 enquire our ages or the number of our sons. Finally 
 we were taken over the college. The hundred and 
 sixty pupils at present in residence come from all 
 parts of China, from official and other classes of 
 
 244 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 society, and are obliged to stay for four years, after 
 which time they will be sent to sea as embryo officers 
 of the Chinese navy. In order to obtain admission 
 they must pass a certain examination and get a 
 nomination from a Chinese nobleman — but — and 
 at this point we are no longer surprised that the 
 college, which has been only open a very few months, 
 is already supplied with pupils — all expenses of 
 education, etc., are defrayed by the Government ! 
 
 At present the Chinese navy is practically non- 
 existent, never having made good its losses in the 
 Chino-Japanese War of 1895. True, there are some 
 gunboats ; one with a yellow dragon and a big eye 
 painted on the bows was lying in Chefoo Bay at 
 the beginning of the month. Still, the hundred 
 and sixty naval cadets will not be ready for five 
 years or so, and much may be done in that time, if, 
 indeed, the Naval College lives up to its ideals. 
 There is plenty of paint and plenty of whitewash, 
 but something light and airy and unsubstantial 
 about the make of the buildings which bodes ill for 
 the future. We looked in through various glass 
 doors at spick and span class-rooms, where Chinese 
 boys in semi-foreign suits of white duck were sitting 
 at foreign desks on foreign forms, learning from 
 foreign books. In one room they were studying 
 English, in another algebra. There were courts 
 behind courts surrounded by one-storied buildings, 
 and at the end of a long passage a shrine and burning 
 incense, a precautionary measure, doubtless to counter- 
 
 245 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 act the evil influence of the foreign visitors. And 
 yet, forsooth, the very object of the place is to teach 
 our contemptible foreign language and the science 
 of the West, and the very furnishing of the rooms 
 showed in every detail Western influence, more 
 especially, perhaps, than anything else the bath- 
 rooms, twenty or more, with hot and cold water 
 laid on. One isolated two-storied building attracted 
 our attention. 
 
 “ Ah, that,” they said, “ is for the foreign pro- 
 fessors.” 
 
 “ Who are the foreign professors ? ” we asked with 
 interest. 
 
 But they shook their heads. They had none at all 
 as yet, but were hoping to get some later on ! 
 
 “ Man, man, tih,” later on ! That is the answer 
 to many an otherwise unanswered question in this 
 land of the Celestials. 
 
 At present the only foreigner in connection with 
 the place is an instructor in gunnery, the other 
 masters are all of them Chinese. 
 
 Deborah and I have now come to the parting of 
 the ways. She goes back to Teng Cheo Fu, to stay 
 quietly with our friends there, and I dive into the 
 interior again and take steamer to-morrow to Tientsin, 
 then by rail to Huai Luh, and on into Shansi to see 
 something of the bleak north country, where the 
 people are too poor to eat rice, and often have to be 
 content with hot water instead of tea. 
 
 A few weeks ago, when crops were suffering from 
 
 246 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the drought, some anti-foreign members of the Shansi 
 population sought to propitiate the gods of the harvest 
 by burning models made of dough, which were in- 
 tended to represent, by their wasplike waists and other 
 strange peculiarities, the dreaded foreigner. A waist 
 of any kind is repellent to the Chinese, so I have pro- 
 vided myself with a long loose coat to propitiate the 
 Shansiites. 
 
 I will write anon. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 247 
 
Huai Luh, 
 
 September, 1908. 
 
 I had an amusing time yesterday travelling on 
 the Belgian-Chinese line from Tientsin to Shi Kia 
 Chuang with a first-class ticket which I could not use. 
 The only first-class carriage consisted of a “ coupe ” 
 holding six seats and an outer compartment devoted 
 to spittoons and a cooking-stove, and the “ coupe ” 
 was said to be reserved for the Viceroy’s Yamen. 
 The Viceroy’s party, however, dwindled down to one 
 meek-looking little Tai Tai, a mere girl in appearance, 
 with her maid, who sat with her back to the door, 
 so that none might enter, whilst a man-servant stood 
 guard on the other side. They indicated to me that 
 I, the “ foreign barbarian,” must stay in the outer 
 compartment with the spittoons and the cooking- 
 stove, the seats of which were now partly occupied 
 by Chinese soldiers. I objected to this, and demanded 
 a seat in the “ coupe,” where, of course, there was 
 plenty of room to spare. The attendants made ex- 
 cuses. They said the Viceroy had bought tickets for 
 all the seats, but at that moment the ticket-collector 
 came along, which proved the error of this statement. 
 The next reason given was not so easy to refute. 
 The Tai Tai had never seen a foreign lady before 
 
 248 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and would die of “ fright.” On the contrary, I 
 said, she would enjoy the fun of it ; but the Yamen 
 servants had strict orders, apparently, and refused to 
 give in. Finally, the ticket-collector explained that 
 a director of the line had given the Tai Tai permission 
 to take entire possession of the “ coupe.” This, of 
 course, was lie number three, but it seemed useless 
 to argue the matter, and there was no Westerner to 
 be found to see that justice was done, so I settled 
 myself down amongst egg-shells and orange-peel in 
 an untidy second-class carriage, where culinary opera- 
 tions had been in progress. The stove was alight, 
 the day was very warm, and my feelings, moreover, 
 were heated. Later on, however, we took on more 
 carriages and a first-class compartment was again 
 available. 
 
 It was dark before we arrived at Shi Kia Chuang. 
 The platform was alive with coloured fireflies darting 
 this way and that — in other words, gay paper lanterns 
 bobbing at the ends of sticks. An army of coolies 
 besieged the train and a couple of stalwart youths 
 seized my baggage. 
 
 “ I am expecting a foreigner to meet me,” I said. 
 “ Is there one there ? ” 
 
 “ There is ! there is ! ” they answered ; and carrying 
 my things, dashed down the bank beyond the plat- 
 form into the open land beyond. There was no 
 foreigner anywhere in sight, only a seething mass of 
 excited Chinese, who added their shouts to mine 
 and called the runaways back. I held on tightly to 
 
 249 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 one end of my rug-strap and made them take me in 
 tow. We went down the platform and back again, 
 but there was no foreigner of any sort or description. 
 Wondering what to do next, I heard my name called, 
 and, would you believe it, I had got out on the plat- 
 form side of the train and ought to have got out at 
 the other, where there was no platform. My friends, 
 not realising that I was unused to these contrary 
 methods, were giving me up for lost — and in the 
 dim light of paper lanterns it was, of course, un- 
 commonly difficult to make out one person from 
 another. 
 
 Shi Kia Chuang is a junction of the Shansi line 
 with the Peking line, and there being only one train 
 during the day, most travellers to Shansi stay there 
 for the night. There is a modern Chinese inn — 
 cleaner than most, but built in the style of the old 
 camel inns. In the guest-rooms the “ kengs,” or brick 
 beds, occupied the whole of one side of the apartment, 
 like a spacious platform ; but my own room was 
 more meagre, and its chief furniture consisted of 
 cart-wheels, newly made and newly varnished, waiting 
 to be exported to Peking. The next morning we 
 started forth soon after daylight to catch the one 
 train of the day, and arrived at Huai Luh in time for 
 breakfast. I stayed at Huai Luh for two days with 
 friends of Kay’s of the China Inland Mission. 
 
 This was my first introduction to the famous 
 Loess soil — for a long time, according to one eminent 
 authority, a “ geological puzzle,” and said to be the 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 only crop-producing soil in the world which never 
 requires artificial fertilising. Both in colour and 
 texture it resembles dust — khaki-tinted dust — and 
 the effect is mournful in the last degree. There is 
 no getting away from it. The squat, square houses 
 of the town were built of Loess bricks dried in the 
 sun, the flat roofs were the same colour as the walls, 
 the roads were like dried water-courses or wide ditches 
 between crumbling banks of khaki-coloured Loess 
 eighteen and twenty feet or more in depth. One 
 characteristic point about this strange powdery soil 
 is that it has a way of splitting up into clefts which 
 branch out in every direction through all the wide 
 tract of Loess country. In places the formation 
 becomes that of a series of terraces. Wherever 
 cultivation is possible, the land is planted out in 
 crops of sorghum, wheat, millet, sweet potatoes, 
 beans, etc., but fields on the upper level are apt to 
 grow smaller every year as the edges break off or a 
 sudden cleft in the soil carries a part of them to 
 depths below. Consequently the wily farmer usually 
 buys the land at the foot of his field, that he may be 
 none the poorer eventually. There are no hedges, 
 nothing but broken ridges of Loess soil, and owing 
 to the deep clefts and crumbling banks, the surround- 
 ings of Huai Luh reminded one of a collection of 
 building plots, in which the foundations of future 
 houses had been dug out and then deserted. Now 
 and then a spreading tree made a delightful oasis 
 of green on the dun-coloured land, and the hills 
 
 251 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 three miles or so away were soft blue and amethyst 
 in the distance, guarded by shadowy mountains. 
 
 The house where I am staying was one of the 
 houses of tragedy in 1900. In a little book entitled 
 In Deaths Oft, a simple but very impressive account 
 has been given of their experiences by our friends at 
 Huai Luh in that eventful year. They relate how 
 finally they were compelled to flee from their house 
 and took refuge in the hills, first in a temple and 
 then in a cave, finally in a farmhouse, only to be dis- 
 covered in the end by the Boxers and carried forth 
 to die. Seven times over they were in imminent 
 danger of their lives, seven times over miraculously 
 delivered from what appeared to be certain death, 
 and at last, more dead than alive, they were rescued 
 by the Allied Forces. It was not until their return, 
 when the country was again at peace, that they learnt 
 of their landlord’s treachery. For three long weeks 
 before their flight two men had been commissioned 
 to bring about their death, and had lain in hiding on 
 the flat roof of one of the adjoining houses, waiting 
 for them to go out into the street, so that the house 
 itself should be saved from being the scene of the 
 murder. But the men missed their opportunity, 
 after all, and never got it again. The treacherous 
 landlord, who should by rights have forfeited his life, 
 was, by the intervention of the foreigners whom he 
 had tried to destroy, granted forgiveness. At the 
 present time I believe they are actually on friendly 
 terms with each other. 
 
 252 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 That these heroic people should have come back 
 again to the scene of the indescribable sufferings 
 through which they passed, to work again amongst 
 the people who were in league with their would-be 
 murderers, ranks, I think, amongst the finest records 
 of Christianity. 
 
 The railway near Huai Luh runs through an old 
 graveyard of the Ming dynasty. Large compensation 
 was given to those people whose family graves hap- 
 pened to be in the proximity, or had to be moved to 
 allow the line to be built. Such lucrative possessions 
 did these graves become that their numbers increased 
 enormously in a few hours. In many Chinese grave- 
 yards one passes through acres upon acres of grass- 
 grown mounds — all of them exactly alike, with no 
 mark to recognise them by — and one wonders how 
 it is that the Chinese always know their own family 
 graves, and never by any chance make a mistake. 
 They have, it is true, an unerring instinct with 
 regard to the points of the compass, and use the terms 
 north, south, east, and west — or rather east, south, 
 west, and north (as the Chinese put it) — on all oc- 
 casions. For instance, they will say “ the south 
 dish ” or the “ east dish,” instead of “ the dish 
 at the end of the table,” or “ He has gone over 
 to the north,” instead of “ He is at the other side 
 of the garden,” and I was told of a woman the 
 other day who was complaining of a pain in her 
 ear. 
 
 “ Which ear is it ? ” asked the doctor. 
 
 253 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 “ It is the one to the west,” she said, “ and I am 
 facing north.” 
 
 The choosing of a site for a grave is fraught with 
 many difficulties. The geomancers choose a place 
 where the Azure Dragon * and the White Tiger + 
 “ unite harmoniously,” and where there is no water- 
 course which, running straight from the selected 
 spot, may carry away the “ vital breath,” and where 
 also there is no pernicious breath — a straight line, for 
 instance, pointing towards the grave. The straight 
 lines of the “foreign barbarians’” railways have done 
 great damage over and over again, both to the Azure 
 Dragon and the White Tiger. 
 
 Considering how deeply rooted in the minds of 
 the people is this “ Feng Shui ” X superstition, one- 
 marvels that railways in China • have increased as 
 much as they have done. The one I travelled by to 
 Tai Yiien Fu — the capital of Shansi — is “ run ” by 
 Westerners and has only been open a few months. 
 
 The journey took twelve hours, but there were 
 many halts. Every twenty minutes or so we drew up 
 at a solitary station — a toy building on a toy plat- 
 form occupied by a long line of soldiers, which gave 
 a touch of the unfamiliar to the otherwise common- 
 place railway premises. But the country through 
 which we were travelling was by no means common- 
 
 * Positive current. f Negative current. 
 
 J Literally “wind and water.” “Its basic principle is that Earth 
 is but the reflection of Heaven.” China: its History, Arts, and 
 Literature. — Capt. F. Brinkley. 
 
 254 
 
SOUTH GATE AT TA1 YUEN FU 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 place. The train crept laboriously uphill — worming 
 its way through the mountains into the province of 
 Shansi, and meandered along through wide tracts of 
 the Loess country — through cuttings in Loess cliffs 
 hundreds of feet deep, past vast terraced regions 
 of the powdery khaki-tinted soil, on to high ridges 
 from which one looked down on to sunken roads 
 at the foot of precipices and into deep hollows of 
 the crumbling dun-coloured earth. 'The walls of 
 the houses were built chiefly of Loess bricks, 
 ranged in straight rows one on top of the other, like 
 old vellum books on invisible shelves, and covered 
 with plaster, which in many cases had peeled off. 
 The flat roofs and Loess walls being identical in 
 colour to the surrounding soil, the towns were prac- 
 tically invisible from afar. There were no trees 
 anywhere. Now and again large dark, tunnel-like 
 holes punctured the face of a cliff. These turned 
 out to be cave-dwellings, which are favourite resi- 
 dences in this part of the country. 
 
 At Tai Yuen Fu my friend, Miss S., was there to 
 meet me. We crawled on all fours into one of the 
 springless covered carts, and our “ bones were rattled 
 over the stones,” along the rough track to the city 
 gates. My Chinese name was given to the sentry on 
 guard, and we passed through into a wide street lined 
 with high walls and low-roofed houses, and dotted 
 with trees — the very sight of which was a joy in 
 this barren Loess country. A couple of hundred 
 yards down we drew up at shabby double doors 
 
 255 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 under a porch with a curved roof, and following my 
 hostess through a labyrinth of tiny courtyards, each 
 one opening out of the other round some unexpected 
 corner, we came at last to a little garden, round which 
 cheerfully lighted pavilions (they turned out after- 
 wards to be bedrooms and sitting-rooms) announced 
 that we had “ arrived.” 
 
 Tai Yiien Fu interests me greatly. 
 
 A little more than eight years ago it was, alas ! the 
 scene of one of the most terrible massacres of modern 
 times. Every foreigner in the place — man, woman, 
 and child — was done to death, and horrors, the history 
 of which no one fully knows or ever speaks about, 
 save with bated breath — were enacted in this very 
 city before the eyes of all these people whom we pass 
 daily in the streets, and who look at us half in wonder, 
 half in contempt. A little more than eight years 
 ago they flattered themselves they had got rid of 
 the “ outer barbarians ” for ever. 
 
 But it was not so. 
 
 Here they are all back again in greater numbers 
 than before ; the buildings that were razed to the 
 ground have been re-erected and are twice the size 
 of the old ones ; new “ foreign ” houses have sprung 
 into existence. The dreaded “ iron road ” and “ fire 
 carriage ” have ventured to within half a “ li ” of 
 the city gates, and an “ Imperial University ” for 
 the acquirement of Western learning, with two 
 
 256 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 hundred Chinese graduates in residence, has cropped 
 up in their very midst under a staff of Western 
 professors, and is approved of and smiled upon by 
 His Excellency the “ Fu,” who on the occasion of 
 a recent examination attended the University him- 
 self day after day for a whole week to “ drink tea ” 
 and lend his countenance to the proceedings ! 
 
 This University was built, by the way, with the 
 indemnity money which the Protestant Missions re- 
 fused to take after the 1900 massacres, stipulating, 
 however, that it should be used for purposes of educa- 
 tion in the city. Other schools and colleges have 
 been started by the Chinese themselves. There are 
 said to be several thousand students in Tai Yuen Fu, 
 so that the two hundred in the Western University 
 are but a small proportion of the whole. 
 
 The Government school for girls is quite a new 
 institution. In their efforts to get pupils, education 
 is given gratis, and some are even paid to attend. 
 
 The two most advanced scholars in my friend’s school 
 were won over by a promise of money ! We went 
 over the buildings one day, and were amused to see 
 that the pupils varied from five and six to fifty and 
 sixty years of age ! Probably, as Chinese women 
 look old for their years, the latter were, in reality, 
 thirty or forty. There seems to be some difficulty in 
 getting efficient teachers. One or two of them are 
 “ Tai Tai’s,” women of position and property, who 
 give their services gratis. From the textbooks one 
 realised that the subjects taught were Western sub- 
 s 257 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 jects. If the letterpress is as ludicrous as some of 
 the illustrations, one wonders in what strange form 
 Western ideas are presented to these enquiring 
 Chinese minds. The books that we saw were dis- 
 tinctly elementary ; but many of the scholars of 
 course, even the elderly ones, were only just beginning 
 their education on Western lines. On the part of the 
 latter it showed a good deal of pluck to begin it 
 at all ! 
 
 The English class had been given up as hopeless. 
 This was hardly surprising when one considered that 
 the teachers had only had something like half a dozen 
 lessons themselves to begin with and had deeply re- 
 sented all corrections. 
 
 A “ Tai Tai ” who lives next door, and comes in 
 sometimes to call, tells us that in a Chinese girls’ 
 school punishments usually consist of blows on the 
 palm of the hand with a flat stick. In the case of a 
 child, however, whose offence has been exceptionally 
 great, the culprit is “ sentenced ” to take the punish- 
 ment into her own hands ! Apparently it is a point 
 of honour to do the deed thoroughly, and a child 
 who has beaten herself will have a horribly bruised 
 and swollen hand for days to come ! 
 
 I have taken on an English class in my friend’s 
 school for a week or two, and the other morning 
 the children gathered round me at the end of the 
 lesson with an eager request. They wanted to know 
 whether my “ front teeth took out,” and when I 
 laughingly refuted the idea their faces fell, and 
 
 258 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 I knew I had distinctly lowered myself in their 
 estimation. 
 
 There is a great charm about these Chinese girls 
 with their dainty, courteous ways and dark eyes 
 which light up merrily at the least encouragement. 
 But everything in China has its surprises, and the 
 gentle little schoolgirls are no exception to the rule. 
 My hostess once planned to give them a treat on her 
 birthday. They were to choose what it was to be. 
 Picture to yourself those dainty little maidens had 
 but one wish — they wanted to go to the execution 
 ground to see the beheading! Needless to say, a 
 second choice was requested. 
 
 This last week we have been paying calls on some 
 of the “ Tai Tai’s ” of Tai Yuen Fu, and others of 
 more humble social standing. Left to myself, I 
 should have found difficulty in telling one from the 
 other, except in a few special cases. As to the guest- 
 rooms, there is a strong similarity between them 
 wherever you go. The chief piece of furniture — a 
 table placed against the wall like an altar, with 
 its set of metal incense burners, its vases and candle- 
 sticks : on either side — two solid chairs of dark wood 
 or ebony — the seats of honour. If there happens to 
 be a cloth on the table, in accordance with Chinese 
 custom, it is hung across the front instead of being 
 spread over the top ! 
 
 The floor is usually of flag-stones more or less uneven, 
 the walls of plaster which is peeling off. A few scrolls, 
 and occasionally a mirror, adorn the walls, and — if the 
 
 259 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 room happens to be a living-room as well as a guest- 
 room — one side of it is filled by the inevitable “ keng,” 
 which at night serves as a bedroom for the whole 
 family, and in the daytime does duty as a sofa, a 
 bench, a table, a bookshelf — anything you please. The 
 windows, of course, are of paper and the light is 
 subdued. 
 
 We were asked to call on a “ Tai Tai ” who be- 
 longed to one of the Yamens, but who, in her desire 
 for a quiet life, had gone to live in a neighbouring 
 “ kong kuan ” (palace). Expecting our visit, she was 
 dressed and “ painted ” to receive us. A group of 
 relatives and handmaidens escorted us across an inner 
 court to the guest-room. After long haggling as to 
 who should have the left-hand seat of honour at the 
 altar-like table, I was pressed into it, as the “ hsin 
 lai tih keh ” (the newly arrived guest). Conversation 
 was difficult, as the “ Tai Tai,” a southerner, was not 
 accustomed to northern mandarin. A bright-faced 
 girl, however, joined in the talk with fluency. It 
 turned out that she was the second wife, and as be- 
 tween the first and the second wife there is apt to be 
 jealousy, care had to be taken to devote most of the 
 attention to our somewhat silent and uninteresting 
 hostess. 
 
 On these occasions, when tea is brought in, eti- 
 quette ordains that one must refrain from raising the 
 cup to one’s lips until especially requested to do so. 
 Even then good manners require one to offer it, first 
 of all, to the hostess, who, however, signifies her 
 
 260 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 refusal, but reiterates her invitation. The handling 
 of the cup requires caution. To be polite, two hands 
 should be used and the cover not removed, only 
 pushed slightly back to allow the tea without leaves 
 to ooze through to one’s lips. Strange cakes of 
 squashed dates in savoury paste are offered, which 
 you must on no account refuse to eat. Nobody be- 
 lieves that you do not want more when you have 
 finished the first. Fingers which are by no means 
 clean thrust a fresh supply of dainties into your hands 
 and pile them up on the table beside your cup. At 
 the end of the visit you hug your waist with many 
 bows and smiles. 
 
 The hostess says, “ When you are not busy, come 
 again and sit a little.” 
 
 “ We will come again to wish you peace,” we reply. 
 And again we all bow. 
 
 “ Forgive my not accompanying you,” she answers. 
 “ Walk slowly.” 
 
 “ Detain your steps,” we hasten to add. “ Do not 
 come out. We do not want to be treated with cere- 
 mony ” (literally, “ not want guest’s breath ”), and 
 again we all bow. 
 
 But the hostess does not retreat. At every corner 
 the performance is repeated. Sometimes she comes 
 as far as the outer gate, and the leave-takings seem 
 endless. According to strict etiquette the person of 
 superior rank must be the first to turn the back, but 
 sometimes, in the case of a Chinese and a foreigner, the 
 social standing is difficult to decide. Neither wishes 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 to pretend to be superior to the other in rank, and 
 much time is wasted. 
 
 On the occasion of our visit to the “ Tai Tai’s ” in 
 the “ kong kuan ” they insisted, to my horror, on 
 paying the fare of the two covered carts which were 
 waiting for us at the door ! 
 
 Etiquette varies, and is not so strict amongst the 
 women as amongst the men. Should a “ Tai Tai ” 
 desire to get rid of a guest who has stayed too long, 
 she simply orders the servant to make some more tea. 
 The guest, recognising the signal, rises immediately ! 
 There are no less than three thousand rules of 
 behaviour. If anyone exists who knows and obeys 
 them all, I cannot say, but to a greater or less 
 degree they permeate all classes of society. The 
 cultivated manners of the cook and the coolie are 
 often astonishing. 
 
 Another day I was taken to call on an elderly 
 Manchu lady who had known the Dowager-Empress 
 in her youth. In those days the Manchu “ Tai Tai ” 
 was in a much better social position than the “ Huang 
 Tai Ho,” but the see-saw of time has sent the one 
 up and the other down ; and whilst the Dowager- 
 Empress rules in power over the Dragon Throne and 
 the “ Son of Heaven ” himself, the old Manchu 
 “ Tai Tai ” lives in a couple of rooms leading 
 into a paved court around which other families 
 have their humble dwelling-places. In the inner 
 chamber, however, into which we were bidden, 
 there were some handsome pieces of furniture 
 
 262 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and choice bits of porcelain — relics of former 
 grandeur. 
 
 The “ Tai Tai ” was seventy-three — the same age 
 as the Empress — but old for her years. Her eyes were 
 very dim and her back was very bent, but her memory 
 retained its vigour. With a little encouragement she 
 told us of the days of her youth, when the Empress 
 Yehonala, a young and strikingly handsome girl, lived in 
 the city of Tai Yuen Fu. Her father, a small official, 
 had died a year or two previously, leaving his family 
 in somewhat straitened circumstances. The mother, 
 much to the indignation of her son, married again. 
 
 The home was not a happy one. Yehonala’s 
 brother, enraged with his mother, did all in his power 
 to thwart her. Yehonala, on the contrary, took her 
 mother’s part. The day arrived, however, when her 
 home life came to an abrupt end. In accordance 
 with custom, a certain number of daughters of Manchu 
 officers, selected on account of their good looks, were 
 sent up to Peking to be passed in review before the 
 mother of the Emperor, who chose from amongst 
 them girls for the Imperial “ harem.” The first 
 choice fell upon the handsome maiden from Tai 
 Yuen Fu. 
 
 In course of time a son was born to Yehonala, 
 whose name had now been changed to “Tzi Hsi,” 
 whereas the Emperor’s real wife had no son. Thus 
 gradually Tzi Hsi, who was very clever as well as 
 very beautiful, became more and more powerful, and 
 when finally the Emperor’s first wife and then the 
 
 263 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Emperor himself “ became guests on high,” Tzi Hsi 
 found herself practically in possession of the Dragon 
 Throne, and mercilessly did she use the power that 
 had become hers so unexpectedly. 
 
 With a bitterly revengeful spirit, she never forgave 
 or forgot an injury, either real or fancied. She hunted 
 down everyone who in any way had been unfriendly 
 towards her dead father, or probably, in the more 
 refined Chinese style, presented them each with a 
 white scarf, which mark of attention would leave 
 them no alternative but to put an end to themselves, 
 and that as speedily as possible. As to her mother, 
 during her lifetime she lavished gifts upon her of 
 great magnificence, but after her death was fiercely 
 determined that the hated brother should in no wise 
 profit by his mother’s property, to which he had a 
 legal right, and gave secret orders that the house 
 should be burnt to the ground and everything utterly 
 destroyed ! 
 
 Listening to the old “ Tai Tai’s ” reminiscences, 
 and thinking of 1900, the shadow of which still 
 haunts the city of Tai Yuen Fu, one felt that the 
 beautiful Yehonala had, alas ! more than fulfilled the 
 promise of her youth. It is said — and by those in high 
 places — that once again before she dies she means to 
 try a second time to sweep the hated foreigner from 
 the country. 
 
 Meanwhile, though there are rumours of unrest, 
 there are no visible signs of any. The gentlest mem- 
 ber of our household, the cook, is a Boxer. He is a 
 
 264 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 man with an engaging smile, who seems to have a 
 magnetic attraction for all the household pets — in 
 other words, two unchained cats and a dog. In the 
 west of China cats were chained up, while dogs ran 
 loose ! 
 
 Anyway, they are far more valuable out here than 
 at home. Abbe Hue tells of some that were used as 
 clocks. From nine till eleven the pupil of the cat’s 
 eye is large and round ; from one till three, pointed 
 at each end ; from eleven till one, a single thread, 
 and so on. 
 
 But to return to our Boxer cook. Not long ago he 
 expressed his wish to take to himself a wife. Not 
 having money enough for the purpose, my friend 
 very generously gave him forty dollars towards the 
 desired acquisition. He found someone who from 
 all accounts seemed suitable. My friend naturally 
 asked for particulars. 
 
 The cook’s face beamed. 
 
 “ She has two cupboards,” he said, “ and a table ! ” 
 “ Yes, yes ! But what is she like — in character ? ” 
 It was hopeless. All the answer she could get was : 
 “ Two cupboards and a table ! ” 
 
 They are excellent servants, these Chinese, as every- 
 body knows, and in the bliss of ignorance there are 
 times when I hanker after bringing a few back with 
 me. I begin to realise, however, some of the diffi- 
 culties in connection with them. 
 
 Thanks to the fact that everybody is in league with 
 everybody else, it becomes uncommonly hard to get 
 
 265 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 rid of a servant who does not want to go, or to engage 
 another against whom the others have an objection. 
 
 The school cook was given notice to quit, as his 
 cooking was not up to the mark. He took his dis- 
 missal cheerfully, and a new cook was engaged to 
 come in the following week. On the morning when 
 he should have arrived a message was sent in to say 
 his “ wife was dying ” and therefore he could not 
 appear for a few days. Thereupon the old cook was 
 asked if he would “ oblige ” for a short time longer. 
 Smilingly he declined, saying he would “ lose face ” if 
 he did so after having been given notice to quit. 
 
 The table boy, therefore, was sent for and told to 
 get in the cook’s brother to serve as a stop-gap, but 
 the table boy had a plan worth two of that ! He 
 returned a moment or so later to say that the old 
 cook would be prepared to stay if, on the arrival 
 of the new cook, he might be given another post in 
 the house, and as more visitors were arriving and 
 extra help would be needed before long, my friend 
 agreed. 
 
 The servants having got what they wanted, the 
 “ dying wife ” regained her health in a few hours 
 and all went smilingly. 
 
 A Chinese cook is never at a loss. In foreign 
 circles, where knowledge of the Chinese language is 
 held at a discount, the affairs of the kitchen are regu- 
 lated in a manner which would surprise not a little 
 the mistress of the house. Should it happen one day 
 that an impromptu invitation to dinner has been 
 
 266 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 given and accepted, the cook when informed that guests 
 are coming, “ Catchee chow this side ” shows no per- 
 turbation of mind. He merely goes off to the house 
 of the invited guests and makes their cook hand over 
 the dinner they would have eaten had they been at 
 home. 
 
 When accounts are given in at the end of the week 
 both cooks are gainers. The cook whose master and 
 mistress went out charges them for the dinner they 
 did not eat and makes a “ squeeze ” out of the cook 
 who “ borrowed ” the dinner, who in his turn charges 
 for the entertainment of the guests. It is difficult 
 to be even with them, as I found to my cost when I 
 suggested to the table boy that I should like to buy 
 one of the embroidered Manchu gowns. 
 
 His face brightened. 
 
 In an incredibly short space of time he appeared 
 with an assortment. The man to whom they be- 
 longed remained in the background. It was (we 
 shrewdly guessed) the table boy who arranged the 
 prices with a view to heavy “ squeezes ” on his own 
 account. For once he overreached himself. We de- 
 cided they were much too dear and would have none 
 of them. 
 
 I little knew what I was doing. Thereafter, when- 
 ever I tried to buy a Manchu gown, the way was 
 barred. The table boy had determined that I must 
 get one through him or not at all. I enquired at the 
 shops ; they had none, or only some that were too 
 small or otherwise unsuitable. I asked the other 
 
 267 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 servants ; they shook their heads, or smilingly said 
 “ yes ” and meant “ no.” 
 
 Finally I confided my difficulties to a neighbouring 
 “ Tai Tai,” and through her succeeded in effecting 
 my wished-for purchase. The table boy had been 
 foiled at last, but he behaved with greater amiability 
 than ever. 
 
 I notice that he makes purses of the lobes of his 
 ears, and extracts twenty-cent pieces from them like 
 a conjurer. This seems to be another thrifty custom 
 of the Chinese ; but though their ears are often 
 abnormally large, their capacity in the matter of 
 coins would soon be exhausted ! 
 
 October 1 1 th. 
 
 I am enthusiastic over the Tai Yiien Fu climate, 
 except on those days when the wind blows the light 
 powdery Loess soil in thick clouds of dust through 
 the air and covers the houses inside and out with 
 grit. The plain whereon the city is situated is 
 two thousand feet above sea-level ; the air is crisp 
 and invigorating. I have a “ mountain ” appetite 
 and energy to match, but they tell me that appetite 
 goes after a while, and sleep fails, and one’s hair falls 
 off, and one’s skin dries up, and one’s bones crack 
 from the excessive dryness of the atmosphere, and 
 that altogether the climate of North China is “ trying 
 to the nerves.” 
 
 268 
 
PAGODAS AT TAI YUEN l'U 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 This statement apparently does not apply to the 
 natives ; one does not hear much of nervous ailments 
 in China : one hears more of plague and famine and 
 fever. The plague is raging not far off at the present 
 time, and Tai Yuen Fu is never free from typhus and 
 smallpox. About thirty years ago this district was 
 partly depopulated by a terrible famine, and is still 
 sparsely inhabited in comparison to many other parts 
 of China. 
 
 The city at the present time contains about twenty- 
 five thousand inhabitants, and there is room for many 
 more. In the country round one is struck by the 
 absence of people and the scarcity of human habita- 
 tions. The surroundings of the city are bleak and 
 desolate. I was lent a horse one day, and rode out 
 with some friends to the two melancholy khaki- 
 coloured pagodas standing side by side on a bit of 
 rising ground — three stories high and touched up 
 with blue-enamelled tiles. Every town of any conse- 
 quence owns at least one pagoda — built to control its 
 destinies, to impart good influences, and repress evil 
 ones. 
 
 Occasionally they have been known to fail in their 
 purpose. I have read of one in West China which 
 was partly pulled down after a few years, not very 
 long ago, as the Dragon was said to be feeling un- 
 comfortable — from the weight of the pagoda pressing 
 on his body. In his irritation he hindered the literary 
 success of the neighbourhood, and no one had attained 
 an M.A. degree for seven years. When, however, the 
 
 269 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 pagoda had been diminished in height a scholar of 
 the city came out with flying colours at the next 
 examination. It was evident to all concerned that 
 the Dragon was appeased ! 
 
 We rode along through wide stretches of more or 
 less level vegetable fields, broken and scarred by 
 sunken paths and roadways like dried water-courses 
 between high “ cliffs ” of dun-coloured Loess soil. 
 From the rising ground by the pagodas we could see 
 for miles around on every side across the treeless, 
 sunburnt, dust-swept plain to the distant hills — blue 
 and hazy in the waning light of the day. 
 
 As to the city itself, three miles to the west of us, 
 like all Chinese cities, it “ hides its light under a 
 bushel.” There is nothing to be seen of it but the 
 city wall — mud-coloured and darkened with age. 
 The gates are shut at six (seven in the summer), and 
 only in a case of life and death can they be reopened. 
 From the top of the wall, however, a Chinese city 
 often appears to be what it is not — a charming rural 
 village, or group of villages, embowered in trees ; but 
 as you come down from the wall and plunge through 
 the dust, ankle deep in the roads around the gates, 
 and enter one of the busy streets and thread your 
 way through some of the narrow alleys, between high 
 walls and past dingy courtyards and unspeakable 
 rubbish heaps, you ask yourself what has become of 
 the trees. They ha"\e disappeared entirely, and are 
 shut inside inner courts, where few may penetrate. 
 
 Just outside the south gate of the city a corner of 
 
 270 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the great wall looks as though it were festooned with 
 crimson hangings, and the trunk of an old tree stand- 
 ing in the shadow is as highly decorated as the wall. 
 
 “ What can that be ? ” I asked, straining my eyes 
 to see more clearly. 
 
 “ Why, that is the tree,” they said, “ where the 
 spirit of the Fox resides,” and we walked across the 
 field to see it. 
 
 The red hangings turned out to be red paper, sheets 
 upon sheets of it, inscribed in characters which to me 
 were enigmatical, chiefly prayers for help in times of 
 sickness and thanksgivings for mercies received. 
 
 For the fox, though veiled in a certain amount of 
 mystery, is said to have strange powers in China. He 
 sees all things, hears all things, and secrets are known 
 unto him. He can transform himself at will into 
 other forms, and when one thousand years old be- 
 comes white or golden, and after that period his 
 powers are greater than ever. 
 
 It is said that a year or two ago this Tai Yuen Fu 
 Fox went away for a time. How it was known that 
 he had come back to his old haunts history does not 
 relate, but it was evident from the masses of paper 
 prayers, etc., which are gradually covering a long 
 stretch of the wall, that his services are much in 
 request ! 
 
 One marvels that the creature of the “ sacred ” 
 tree should be a fox instead of a tiger. The latter 
 meets one on all occasions — painted as large as life 
 and even larger on the walls outside big houses to keep 
 
 271 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 off evil spirits, sold in the form of silver cap orna- 
 ments and stuffed pillows, and embroidered on the 
 toes of babies’ shoes to save them from illness. Yes- 
 terday I saw one made of silk, with a tail curled over 
 at the tip like the handle of a teapot, sewn on to the 
 back of a child’s tunic. It had the power, they said, 
 of warding off infection ! 
 
 To-morrow I am starting off on a little journey 
 down the province in a cart — one of those springless 
 Pekingese carts in which everybody travels in these 
 parts, except those who ride on horseback. I forget 
 whether I have described them to you before. They 
 are the hansom-cabs of Tai Yiien Fu, and we drive 
 out in them on all occasions. There is no seat ; you 
 curl up as best you can on the floor of the cart. You 
 try to keep your balance by holding on with a hand 
 to either side — not, indeed, to avoid falling out, of 
 which there is no danger, but to prevent yourself 
 from being dashed against the wooden sides, against 
 which, in the case of a sudden lurch in an extra deep 
 rut, you may receive a stunning blow on the head. 
 As to sitting up comfortably and enjoying the scenery, 
 that, too, is impossible. The hood of the cart is like 
 a dish-cover planked down on the top of you, and 
 tilted up a little at one end, showing the erratic move- 
 ments of the mule in the shafts. The driver usually 
 walks by the side and seldom holds the reins. He 
 leaves them dangling on the back of the creature and 
 guides by his voice, using a set of phrases which 
 Chinese mules understand better than anything else. 
 
 272 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Hence a foreigner who attempts Western methods of 
 driving is utterly lost. His only hope lies in the 
 acquirement of the approved vocabulary. I know the 
 beginning of it : “ li li ” means “ left ” ; “ iieh iieh ” = 
 “ right ” ; “ tr-r-r-r ” = “ stop ” ; “ te-te-te ” = “ go 
 on.” The right tone must be used, however, or the 
 mule turns a deaf ear. 
 
 After weeks upon weeks of dry weather the rain 
 has suddenly started coming down in bucketfuls. 
 We have delayed a day because of it, and now they 
 say the roads are almost impassable. Whether we 
 shall get anywhere or nowhere remains to be seen, 
 and we are taking spades and “ things ” in order to 
 dig ourselves out if we get stuck ! 
 
 Good-bye for the present. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 T 
 
 273 
 
Ping Yao, 
 
 October 28 th. 
 
 We have been five days on the road doing about 
 eighty miles, and we meant to be two ! But if 
 you could have seen first the vehicles in which we 
 travelled, and then the roads, you would have mar- 
 velled at our ever getting anywhere at all ! I had 
 intended to have one of the Tai Yuen Fu hansom 
 cabs, which I described to you in my last letter, but 
 for some reason or other none could be got, and the 
 “ ta chae ” (big cart) was far more comfortable for 
 a long journey. 
 
 How can I describe it to you ? The wheels were 
 the chief feature — great oval wheels studded with 
 gigantic nails. A few planks loosely put together 
 formed the body of the cart, and the roof consisted 
 of a piece of matting arched over from side to side. 
 A couple of horses and a mule — the strongest in the 
 shafts, the others some distance off, linked on by ropes, 
 made up the team. My bedding was spread on the 
 planks for me to sit on, and my boxes heaped up be- 
 hind to lean against. I was in luxury in comparison 
 to the rest of the party. In the other cart ten native 
 women and two children, shapeless masses of wadded 
 garments, were packed closely together as much out 
 
 274 
 
A SHANSI INN 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 of sight as possible under the matting hood. Mrs. F., 
 my Ping Yao hostess, made the eleventh adult in that 
 other cart until I arrived on the scene. 
 
 As it was, it seemed to me the two of us had none 
 too much room. I marvelled at the good humour of 
 the ten women and the two children. Outside the 
 city gates the roads were a slough more than a foot 
 deep of slimy chocolate mud. One calls them roads , 
 but they are only tracks worn deeper and deeper 
 through many hundreds of years. The very name is 
 significant. In the north of China a road is called 
 “ tao ” (a way) instead of “ lu ” (a road). 
 
 Early in the day we came to an abrupt standstill. 
 The cart with the ten women had sunk so deeply 
 into a rut that no amount of pulling was any good. 
 They unharnessed a couple of our horses and hitched 
 them on to the struggling team, but with no effect. 
 Finally, the carters had recourse to the spades, and 
 the half-buried wheels were dug out. 
 
 At midday we halted for lunch. Of all miserable 
 places in bad weather, a Shansi inn is the worst. The 
 yard into which we were obliged to dismount might 
 have been a pig-sty, and the rooms, with their mud 
 floors and torn-paper windows, were just good 
 enough for cow-sheds. 
 
 The rain had started again, and all the afternoon 
 we dragged on slowly through a river of slush, heaving 
 half over every now and then in a miry pit. We were 
 still a good ten miles from the end of the first day’s 
 stage. It was getting dark, and the road and the 
 
 275 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 fields looked much of a muchness — one dreary stretch 
 of mud and water. 
 
 We drew up suddenly and only just in time. A 
 few more steps would have landed us in a stream. 
 The bridge was broken down — and progress barred. 
 But not a bit of it — a Chinese is never at a loss ; he 
 finds a way out somehow always. With marvellous 
 ingenuity they mended the bridge with bundles of 
 “ ko - liang ” stalks (sorghum), and shovelled on 
 stones and mud with the ever-useful spades. 
 
 But at the next village we came to they were deter- 
 mined to go no further. 
 
 “ Was there an inn ? ” we asked. 
 
 Well, there was something that would do for an 
 inn, and driving us into a mud-yard, we were bundled 
 out into the pouring rain. Much argument ensued. 
 It was evident that there was no room for us any- 
 where. But they were willing to do what they 
 could. 
 
 Seldom have guest-chambers been less inviting. 
 The inner half of the stable, in which a horse stood 
 munching its chopped straw, was turned into a tem- 
 porary bedroom, and the landlord’s family vacated a 
 musty though gratefully warm apartment in our 
 honour. As to the ten women, they were relegated 
 to a barn, in which there was, at all events, no lack 
 of ventilation. We spread our supper cloth on the 
 brick bed and ordered basins of “ mi-t’ang,” a kind 
 of water gruel made of millet in which pieces of 
 pumpkin floated uninvitingly. The pumpkins, by the 
 
 276 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 way, formed part of the furniture of my bedroom, 
 and were piled up tier above tier in goodly array. 
 The walls were black with grease, and one could have 
 planted out vegetables in the mould and dust col- 
 lected on the floor in those places where traffic was 
 suspended ! 
 
 The rain fell incessantly all night and half the 
 next day. When we finally started forth once more 
 the country lay half under water. The main road 
 had quite disappeared ; and this not only on account 
 of the heavy rains, but it seemed that the annual 
 irrigation of the fields had commenced, and as the 
 main road is on a distinctly lower level than the fields, 
 it becomes impassable at this season of the year. We 
 had to take to the by-roads, and they were beset 
 with difficulties. Time and time again we stopped 
 to repair a broken bridge before we could venture 
 across. 
 
 The Shansi plain in this mournful weather looked 
 bleaker than ever. Nothing but level stretches of 
 half-fledged fields on every side, now and then a 
 thinly clad, angular elm tree or a shivering willow, 
 and nothing to relieve the monotony of the scene but 
 an occasional mud village — little square, flat-roofed 
 houses with mud walls, few doors and fewer windows, 
 huddled round a pond of slush ; the only difference 
 between a street and a road being that the mud was 
 considerably deeper in the former — so deep, indeed, 
 that one did not wonder that there was nobody about. 
 Men and women in wadded blue cotton garments 
 
 277 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 peered out of the doors of the houses, however, to 
 see us pass, staring at us meditatively as cows might 
 stare. 
 
 There were few other travellers on the road — a 
 pack-mule or so, an occasional hooded cart, and that 
 was all ; but once or twice the deep bass note of 
 camel bells drowned the feverish tinkling of our mule 
 bells, and slowly, silently, like creatures in a dream, 
 gazing with uplifted eyes straight in front of them at 
 nothing in particular, a long procession of the shaggy 
 beasts passed by in single file, pressing the mud down 
 with their huge padded feet. 
 
 We only did ten miles that day, and the next day, 
 a Sunday, stayed at Hsii-keo. That afternoon we 
 were invited to dine at the house of some friendly 
 neighbours. The dinner-hour, by the way, was 
 between three and four ! Our hostess lived with her 
 sons and her sons’ wives and their children in a large 
 and substantial house, built in pavilions round a 
 flagged courtyard. After drinking tea and eating 
 dates preserved in wine we sat down to dinner, four 
 guests in all, whilst our hostess and her daughter 
 merely put their heads in at the door every now and 
 again to see how we were getting on ! The whole 
 duty of the guests seemed to be to eat, and eat largely, 
 and to eat silently, and to do nothing else but eat, 
 except now and again to assist in the transference of 
 morsels, tempting or otherwise, from their own 
 basins to those of their companions. 
 
 On Monday we started again in our quest for Ping 
 
 278 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Yao. The rain held off, but the mud was heavier 
 than ever. In spite of travelling all day steadily, we 
 achieved no more than twenty miles. At the inn 
 where we stopped for lunch the cook, being a Chris- 
 tian, came out eagerly to wish the “ foreign teachers ” 
 peace and begged to be allowed to pay for their 
 food ! 
 
 That night we were in luck’s way, and instead of 
 having to put up at a comfortless inn, were received 
 with friendly hospitality by the Chinese in charge of 
 a China Inland Mission out-station, and who had 
 been expecting us, they said, for days, and had pre- 
 pared a savoury stew and a plate of “ mo-mo ” 
 (steamed bread), tasting partly of dough, partly of 
 putty. 
 
 They burnt a few sheaves of sorghum stalks in the 
 stove under the “ keng,” which filled the room with 
 smoke and warmed up the “ keng ” for us to sit on 
 and afterwards to sleep on. 
 
 There was a sharp frost that night. Next morning 
 ice lay thick on the puddles, and the wind, keen and 
 easterly, blew in our faces. The country was wind- 
 swept and deserted, but had we been travelling that 
 way a few weeks ago we should have met a Thibetan 
 army — in other words, the Dalai Lama on his way 
 to Peking with his immense following — hundreds of 
 mules and camels, priests, soldiers, and attendants. 
 And as he advanced on his “ royal progress ” the order 
 went forth that all men should fall on their faces and 
 do homage to him as he passed. 
 
 279 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 My Ping Yao friends — Mr. and Mrs. F., of the 
 China Inland Mission — were on their way back from 
 a country journey at the time and came face to face 
 with the lordly Thibetan. Naturally they made no 
 attempt to comply with the command, but the 
 soldiers, perceiving them to be “ outside Kingdom 
 folk,” offered no protest. The Dalai Lama and his 
 following had stayed one night only at the town of 
 Ping Yao, but the bill for that night’s expenses, paid 
 by the citizens, came to nearly four hundred pounds ! 
 
 At a temple outside Tai Yuen his visit, of some 
 weeks’ duration, had considerably impoverished the 
 local treasury. He is now on his way to Peking. The 
 evil doings of his undisciplined followers have left a 
 dark trail behind him, and the Dalai Lama himself 
 was not blameless. At one place it is said that, seeing 
 women in the crowd gathered to watch him pass 
 (whereas the presence of women had been forbidden), 
 he gave orders to his soldiers to beat them to death ; 
 and the story goes that the order was carried out 
 then and there. 
 
 Five days I have stayed at Ping Yao, enjoying the 
 hospitality of Mr. and Mrs. F. in a house which 
 was once a camel inn and is still surrounded by camel 
 inns (I hear the deep note of their bells as they pass 
 in the night). We are outside the west gate of the 
 city — the open country, bare and treeless and ending 
 in hills, looks empty and desolate — and often as the 
 light is waning one can see, so they tell me, the 
 sneaking shadow of a wolf seeking for prey. 
 
 280 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 No one would think, from the appearance of it, that 
 Ping Yao was famous for its wealth. It is said to be 
 the richest city in the whole province and is a perfect 
 nest of bankers. To quote a familiar saying : “ Shansi 
 men love gain, but do not value their lives ! ” Their 
 financial ability is recognised all over China. Shansi 
 bankers have found their way not only into the 
 whole of the eighteen provinces, but through into 
 Central Asia. 
 
 Even a pawnshop hardly hopes for success without 
 a Shansi man for its manager. Pawnshops are great 
 institutions in China — patronised more or less by all 
 classes. There are three grades, and the top grade 
 numbers those in high places amongst its clients, and 
 even occasionally is called upon to lend money to the 
 Government ! The banks, by the way, transmit 
 messages one to the other by carrier pigeons, and 
 with great success. Pigeons are household pets over 
 here. The ordinary species is often furnished with a 
 whistle attached to its tail, and as it flies the wind 
 blows the whistle. 
 
 On my drives in hooded carts through the streets 
 of Ping Yao I look in vain for signs of its wealth. 
 Mud seems the chief characteristic of the town. The 
 centre of the road is wet mud, the sides of the road 
 are dry mud banked up seven or eight feet in height. 
 When another cart comes along — fortunately this 
 seldom happens — one or the other has to climb up 
 the bank at the side to make room. Most of the 
 shops vie with each other in keeping their goods out 
 
 281 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 of sight ; but one recognises the “ cash ” shops, of 
 which there are seventy or more, by the long 
 strings of copper coins dangling from the roof. The 
 grander places of merchandise are protected from too 
 much publicity by strips of black cloth, which hang 
 like straight blinds across the upper half of the open 
 front. In the main street of the city a three-storied, 
 pagoda-roofed, drum tower, one mass of gorgeous 
 colouring, a blaze of enamelled tiles, blue, green, and 
 scarlet, and woodwork richly painted and gilded, 
 looks as out of place as a jewelled throne in a farm- 
 yard ! 
 
 A Taoist temple, surrounded by buyers and sellers, 
 barbers and fortune-tellers, stands near the east gate 
 of the city, and in it the City God, a painted wooden 
 idol, sits enthroned. I was told an interesting fact 
 the other day with reference to idols. When a new 
 one is made it is sent to the temple for which it is 
 intended, complete in every detail save one — it has 
 no eyes ! and until these are added it is a thing of 
 naught. Just as soon, however, as the eyes have been 
 put in, the living spirit of the being supposed to be 
 represented by the idol enters into possession. Once 
 in my life, and only once, have I seen an idol’s “ soul,” 
 a metal pendant made up of tiny models of interior 
 organs — heart, kidneys, lungs, etc. These are all 
 shaken up together with a living fly, and as the fly 
 suffers martyrdom its life passes into the pendant 
 and becomes an idol’s soul ! 
 
 Further along inside the east wall, in striking con- 
 
 282 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 trast to the Taoist temple, stand the great solemn 
 buildings of the Confucian edifice, opening on to 
 a silent court planted with trees. A rusty key was 
 turned for me in a rusty lock, and I entered the 
 “ sacred ” precincts. In the dim light one could just 
 make out the Confucian tablet, over an altar, in the 
 centre of the hall. The absence of idols, and of 
 tawdry symbols, impresses one with a sense of dignity 
 in these Confucian halls ; but the lack of up- 
 keep, the dust and the cobwebs, the general air 
 of disuse, are always apparent. They are charac- 
 teristic, these temples, of the doctrine they represent, 
 the high ideals and excellent theories travestied by 
 the empty rites and ceremonies, and the neglect of 
 all those precepts which happen to be inconvenient. 
 As one eminent authority has said, “ the answer to 
 Confucianism is China.” 
 
 I started back across country, taking rather a different 
 route to the one I had come by, and wondering how 
 I should get on now that I was all by “ my wild lones,” 
 and had not even a servant in attendance ; but it 
 was hoped that I should arrive that night at Taiku, 
 one hundred “ li ” off, where Americans were living 
 who would probably take pity on me for the night, 
 and the next day, all being well, I should catch the 
 one train of the day at Utsi and go on to Tai Yuen Fu. 
 I travelled in a hooded cart this time, harnessed to a 
 couple of mules, the front one of which had a way of 
 
 283 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 going off on its own account, and at one time, when 
 we were passing through a grove of trees, it got its 
 ropes entangled round a trunk, and plunging furiously, 
 nearly upset the whole concern. 
 
 As the day closed in we were out again on the open 
 plain, and still far from Taiku. The moon shone 
 through upon us, and we plodded on steadily and 
 silently. In order to keep from the men the slender- 
 ness of my Chinese vocabulary I refrained from any 
 attempt at conversation, and for hours together my 
 companions never uttered a syllable except an occa- 
 sional “ Te, te, te,” or “ Ueh, iieh, iieh ” to the 
 mules. 
 
 A few months ago I should not have thought it 
 possible to be travelling all alone with a couple of 
 Chinese carters across that very province which was 
 blackened by the cruellest deeds of horror in 1900. 
 And now I am here nothing could be more peaceful, 
 though for how long ? Nobody knows, but meanwhile 
 progress is the order of the day. The railway, which 
 now goes only as far as Tai Yuen Fu, is “ man man 
 tih ” (later on) to be carried through the province, 
 and Shansi has a great future before it. An authority 
 on matters of the kind maintains that there is 
 enough coal in Shansi to supply the whole world 
 for thousands of years ; probably also enough iron 
 as well, and other minerals besides. The Imperial 
 Government is at last taking steps on its own 
 account to find out the extent of its riches. 
 Whether the Azure Dragon and the White Tiger will 
 
 284 
 
A SHANSI CART 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 still interfere with mining operations remains to be 
 seen. 
 
 We reached Taiku that night. 
 
 “ You are late ! ” said the gate-keeper of the 
 American compound as he flung open the gates. We 
 drove through a bit of grass-land and drew up out- 
 side a two-storied foreign house. 
 
 Then followed a transformation scene from the 
 old world to the new. The curtain fell on the rough 
 mule-cart standing forlornly in the cold moonlight 
 outside the silent walls of the ancient city, and rose 
 on a merry little supper-party of two Americans and 
 myself in a cosy, lamplit American room, warmed by 
 a giant American stove. 
 
 The next night was a sad contrast. I had meant to 
 be back at Tai Yuen, but the best-laid plans of mice 
 and men “ gang aft agley,” and I am not sure that 
 my plans either were so particularly well laid. I had 
 seventy “ li ” to do over indifferent roads or no roads 
 at all, and a train to catch which went any time 
 between four and six ! 
 
 At one o’clock we were only half-way, halting at 
 a crowded inn for the mules to be fed. A young man 
 of superior class espoused my cause, and helped me 
 explain matters to the carters and to hurry them on. 
 I ordered hot water with which to wash, and the young 
 man produced from his pocket a capacious coloured 
 handkerchief and offered it for a towel ! I thanked 
 him and explained I had everything I needed. He was 
 determined, however, that I should accept something, 
 
 285 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and forthwith produced a foreign cigarette case 
 from his pocket and asked if I smoked. Failing in that 
 also, he fetched a handful of “ English lump sugar ” — 
 a rare sight in these parts — and to gratify him I 
 accepted a couple of lumps, and clambered back 
 into my cart eating them. I felt like some Zoo- 
 logical specimen nibbling at sugar through the bars 
 of my cage, while an admiring crowd stood and 
 watched. 
 
 The young man transgressed all rules of Chinese 
 propriety by helping me into the cart and arranging 
 the rugs, etc. It was evident that somewhere or 
 other he had seen something of the Westerners and 
 their ways, and instead of feeling contempt, wished 
 to emulate. 
 
 That last thirty-five “ li ” to Utsi was the most 
 exciting ride I have had. The mules were forced into 
 a trot. I had to hold on with both hands to keep 
 myself from being pitched against the side of the 
 cart. As it was, I got many hard knocks and painful 
 jerks. We bounded over stones, carried away bits 
 of walls as we banged round corners, and almost cap- 
 sized into deep ruts and ditches. Had we been left 
 to ourselves we should have achieved our purpose, 
 but the rule of the road in this land of opposites is 
 that the light vehicles give way to the heavy, and the 
 nearer we got to Utsi the more heavy traffic did we 
 meet. Time and time again we had to draw up and 
 possess our souls in patience while a lumbering bullock 
 wagon crawled at the slow pace of a reluctant cat 
 
 286 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 along a road on which there was only room for one 
 vehicle at a time. 
 
 As to the streets of Utsi, they were densely blocked 
 by carts and wheelbarrows. Imagine trying to catch 
 a train under these circumstances ! Well, we missed 
 it by five minutes and had to wait twenty-four hours 
 for another ! 
 
 There was nothing for it but to go to an inn. I 
 chose one just outside the city gates and near the 
 railway, which looked promising, and asked for the 
 best room. “ It was too large for me,” they said ; 
 but I insisted, knowing I should have to pay for it in 
 any case, and found myself finally in a spacious apart- 
 ment, with two big “ kengs ” and a table. 
 
 I ordered “ hsi fan ” (wet rice) from the kitchen, 
 and supped with an admiring audience looking on. 
 Then I barred the door with its wooden bar — there 
 are no locks to these inn doors in China, at least I 
 have never seen any — and made up my bed on the 
 “ keng,” and fell asleep to the sound of men and mules 
 coming and going, harnessing and unharnessing in 
 the courtyard. 
 
 Some hours later I woke with a start to feel a 
 stealthy footstep creeping over me with the soft, 
 cautious tread of a cat. Fortunately, when I shook 
 the bedclothes no opposition was offered, but by the 
 scratching and scraping sounds on the other side of 
 my pillow I realised that I had fellow-companions on 
 the “ keng ” in the shape of rats. I dared not light 
 the candle for fear I might see more than I bargained 
 
 287 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 for, and pulling a knitted shawl over my head and 
 face as a precautionary measure, I fell asleep again. 
 
 They were bold creatures, these rats. The next 
 day I saw first one and then another taking its morning 
 constitutional quite regardless of my presence. I 
 complained to the inn servant. He smiled. Those 
 were little rats, he said, and of no consequence. 
 They had large ones sometimes, twice the size of 
 those ! 
 
 The second week in November found me on my 
 way back to Chefoo. I had intended paying another 
 visit to Peking, but was prevented at the last minute. 
 Little did we any of us know then that the dreaded 
 shadow of death was hovering darkly over the portals 
 of the Forbidden City. 
 
 “ Le garde qui vieille aux barrieres du Louvre 
 N’en defend point nos roi.” 
 
 On the 15th November the news arrived. 
 
 The Emperor of China is dead ! The flags are at 
 half-mast and the Chinese are smiling. They tell 
 the news one to the other and smile as they do so. 
 Not because they are rejoicing over the evil tidings, 
 far from it, but the fact has often been remarked 
 that at the sight of a coffin and at the mention of 
 death the faces of most Celestials will lighten with 
 a smile. Some say this is merely the effect of nervous- 
 ness. One wonders whether originally it was a trick 
 by which they sought to deceive the gods. By feign- 
 ing indifference the disembodied spirits might pass 
 
 288 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 them by. When witnessing an execution, I am told, 
 they clap their hands and laugh in order to frighten 
 the spirit away. Yet with strange inconsistency many 
 of these very people will go provided with a piece of 
 bread, and when the head is severed from the body, 
 rush forward and dip the bread in the blood and 
 devour it greedily, in order to absorb a little of the 
 courage and daring of the man executed ! 
 
 This morning it was reported that the Emperor 
 was dead, and this evening the news runs that the 
 Dowager-Empress has died also. 
 
 The Chinese go on smiling. 
 
 But everybody else asks what has happened. 
 
 From the Chinese point of view the matter came 
 about quite naturally. The Empress, who has been 
 suffering from dysentery, or so it is said, knew that 
 her own life was drawing to an end, and simply gave 
 orders to the court physicians that the Emperor’s 
 death should precede her own. 
 
 But the secret has been well kept, and the silence 
 of death lies unbroken behind those double ramparts 
 — “ d’un rouge de sang ” — of the Forbidden City. 
 
 With these two royal names at the head of the list 
 the death-roll increases rapidly. 
 
 Report goes that Yuan sh'f Kai, probably the most 
 powerful official in China, has been assassinated ; that 
 Yuan sh'i Kai’s household, forty-one persons in all, 
 have been put to death ; furthermore, that Prince 
 Kalatchin is encamped outside the gates of Peking 
 with thousands of Mongolian troops, that malcontents 
 u 289 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 are burning down houses in the city, and that Pu Yi, 
 the Emperor’s nephew, a three-year-old child, has 
 been elected heir to the throne by the deceased 
 Empress. 
 
 Meanwhile the Chinese go about their work as 
 usual, displaying no interest whatever in the subject. 
 Dubiousness is the golden rule. It is held to be un- 
 lucky to say anything for certain, and to announce 
 the bald fact that the Emperor is dead would be the 
 height of impropriety. He has “ ascended the dragon 
 throne above ” or “ been received as a guest on high,” 
 if you like, but the “ si ” (dead) must not be used. 
 I found myself saying it once in Tai Yiien Fu, re- 
 ferring to a relation of my own, and was quickly in- 
 formed of my mistake. I might say “ passed over ” 
 or “ gone out of the world,” or something of that 
 kind, but never “ s'i ” (dead) of anyone of whom I 
 wished to speak with respect ! 
 
 There is no longer any doubt, however, that both 
 Emperor and Dowager-Empress are dead, and the 
 whole country has gone into mourning, which means 
 that the red buttons of the men’s caps are changed 
 to blue buttons or white, and for one hundred days 
 all men must desist from shaving. Barbers, mean- 
 while, are being given three thousand “ cash ” a 
 month by the Government in compensation. 
 
 The rumours from Peking have died down like a 
 bonfire from lack of fuel. Yuan sh'f Kai and his 
 family are unharmed, though who shall say for how 
 long ? Pu Yi, the baby Emperor, has ascended the 
 
 290 
 
 I 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 throne, or “ divine utensil ” as it is often called, under 
 the name of Hsiian Tung, and issued his first imperial 
 decree ! Honours are to be conferred on many of his 
 subjects — nobles, soldiers, agriculturists, and so forth 
 — and a button of the seventh rank awarded to all 
 over one hundred years old, and one of the sixth rank 
 to any who have attained the age of one hundred and 
 twenty ! The Regent, Hsiian Tung’s father, is, so 
 they say, an able and enlightened man. It is well 
 that he is so, for China in the throes of a new birth 
 will need all the wisdom she can get. And the 
 anti-dynastic parties with which the country is 
 riddled, what of them ? You may well ask. As far 
 as one can make out they are smiling like the rest, but 
 nobody knows what they are thinking. 
 
 At Gankin, on the Yangtse, where the anti-dynastic 
 feeling is especially strong, the soldiers have mutinied, 
 but the last news gives out that the rebellion has been 
 quelled and the ringleaders beheaded. 
 
 Through the northern province of Shansi a “ Luh 
 peh Li Chi ” (a six hundred “ li ” messenger) was 
 sent from Peking to the various cities bearing an 
 imperial command that all revolutionaries should be 
 beheaded. These “ Luh peh Li Chi ” are recognised 
 by the bundle of singed feathers stuck in a con- 
 spicuous position on the packet of despatches which 
 they carry on their backs. They go for six hundred 
 “ li ” without stopping. All city gates throughout 
 the empire must be opened at any hour of the day 
 or night to let them through, and if anyone causes 
 
 291 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 delay to these royal messengers they can be instantly 
 beheaded. 
 
 Next week I hope to go on to Nanking, the old Ming 
 capital and a hot-bed of anti-dynastic societies ; but 
 the country is perfectly quiet, say the foreigners, and 
 the Chinese say nothing. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 V. 
 
 292 
 
Nanking, 
 
 December , 1908. 
 
 The Shanghai -Nanking Railway, opened a few 
 months ago, belongs to an English company, and seems 
 up till now to have won favour in the eyes of the 
 Chinese. It goes in more for comfort than speed ; one 
 hundred and ninety miles from Shanghai to Nanking 
 in nine hours can hardly be called quick travelling, 
 but even the second-class passenger is provided with 
 every luxury. Breakfast, lunch, dinner — anything 
 you like, in Chinese style or foreign, can be served at 
 any time. A newspaper “ boy ” patrols the train, 
 and at short intervals cloths steamed in boiling water 
 are brought round with which to wipe one’s face and 
 hands ! 
 
 Every fifteen minutes or so we drew up at a brand- 
 new station — a miniature house with a bright red 
 roof, bright green shutters, and a white paling on a 
 tiny platform — like a thing out of a box of toys, and 
 glided on again through long level tracts of highly 
 cultivated, highly monotonous country. The ever- 
 lasting fields, divided the one from the other by strips 
 of brown turf, reminded me of lengths of green paper, 
 ruled and lined, and the lines were the brown turf. 
 
 It was difficult to realise that this was China, except 
 
 293 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 at those moments when the great black wall of an 
 invisible city, some miles in extent, blocked one’s 
 view of the sky-line ; or a pagoda in the far distance 
 warned one of the “ Azure Dragon ” ; or a buffalo 
 dragging a plough, followed by a man in the inevitable 
 blue cotton cloth, gave a touch of characteristic life 
 and colour to the otherwise desolate scene. 
 
 The city of Nanking has a glorious past and a great 
 future, but rather a meagre present. In the fourth, 
 fifth, and sixth centuries, and again in the fourteenth, 
 it was the capital of China, and its manufactures of 
 silk, satin, cotton, rags — or rather paper — are still 
 held in such great repute that all over the country 
 articles superior in workmanship to the common run 
 are spoken of as “ coming from Nanking,” though 
 the chances are that they have never been near the 
 place. 
 
 In point of climate Nanking has nothing to boast 
 of. It lies on a plain which some people call a half- 
 drained marsh. One hears of strange maladies — a 
 disease, for instance, called “ the Sand,” a species of 
 blood-poisoning which the natives cure, or pretend to 
 cure, by cicatrising the least fleshy parts of the body 
 with a copper “ cash.” 
 
 I have only lately realised the medicinal properties 
 of a copper “ cash.” To suck one — steadily and 
 carefully — in the early stages of cholera will prove a 
 sure and certain remedy ! By way of proof, my in- 
 formant assured me that cholera was wholly unknown 
 in the East amongst brass and copper-workers ! 
 
 294 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 It was a grey, cold winter’s day when we sallied 
 forth to see all that remains of Nanking’s former 
 glory — the tomb of Hung Wu, the Ming Emperor. 
 In his day the city walls were thirty-five miles round. 
 The great area enclosed, however, was by no means 
 entirely built over, and in the time of the Tai Ping 
 Rebellion a large part of the old city was utterly 
 destroyed. 
 
 We passed along the narrow sunless streets, where 
 people huddled up in wadded garments stood around 
 the cheerless little dank, dark shops. We lingered a 
 moment by the gateways of the Viceroy’s Yamen 
 — fragile structures of painted wood, like signboards 
 mounted on stilts — and looked in at the crowd that 
 hummed around the inner gates — the Chinese soldiers 
 in Western garb, the Western carriages in Chinese 
 garb, the merchants in silk and furs, the coolies in 
 blue calico, the melancholy ponies, and the “ East 
 Sea Kingdom chairs,” as rickshaws are called in the 
 land of the Celestials. 
 
 We crossed the Manchu town of squat little grey 
 houses in straight rows along roads planted with 
 trees, and came to that scene of desolation — the ruined 
 city of a fallen dynasty. In these days it is nothing 
 but a dreary waste of broken stones and crumbled 
 walls, a “ valley of dry bones ” blackened by age and 
 weather, and all that remains of the imperial palace 
 of the Ming Emperors is a grand old archway falling 
 into decay, but still imposing, and a solid stone 
 building like a farmer’s granary, in which the re- 
 
 295 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 fractory wives used to be imprisoned, and which — 
 oh, irony of fate — is now used as a gunpowder 
 factory ! 
 
 From this city of the dead and gone, over which 
 the grey shadows of death are creeping, we passed 
 out on to the undulating grass-land, devoid of human 
 habitations, and scanned the distance in search of 
 that which we had come to see — the tomb of Hung 
 Wu, the Emperor. 
 
 But there was no sign of anything to break the 
 monotony of the scene save a herd of donkeys and 
 their eager owners, who gathered round us, making 
 a formidable barricade of their animals across the 
 path. 
 
 “ Chi go Liitsze Ba ! ” * they shouted in deafening 
 chorus, and with characteristic persistence a detach- 
 ment of them accompanied us the whole way in the 
 hope of scoring a victory in the end, and by proffering 
 information at the right moment secured a pro- 
 prietary right over our movements, and laid us under 
 an obligation which they well knew would be fulfilled 
 sooner or later. 
 
 A mile and a half across the plain brought us to 
 an avenue of stone animals — monster camels, ele- 
 phants, lions, and some queer beast which the donkey- 
 boys explained was a dolphin — all ten and a half feet 
 high, carved out of solid blocks. They were in double 
 pairs — one pair kneeling, the other standing — and the 
 avenue culminated in a gigantic stone turtle under a 
 * “ Won’t you have a donkey to ride ? ” 
 
 296 
 
AVENUE OK STONE ANIMALS, NANKING 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 roof, bearing on its back a huge tablet. These stone 
 turtles (creatures doomed to spend their existence 
 weighed down by the burden of heavy tablets) 
 are called by the Chinese “ Pi Ti,” the meaning 
 of the word being, “ one who has to bear much 
 sorrow.” 
 
 “ But where,” we asked, “ is the tomb ? ” 
 
 The donkey-boys indicated the barren moorland 
 hills to the east of us. We made our way in that 
 direction, and found ourselves passing along still 
 another avenue of stone images — not animals this 
 time, but giant warriors in armour guarding the way, 
 standing like pillars of salt on the plain of Sodom, 
 and ending again in a stone turtle, roofed over and 
 bearing a tablet. 
 
 On the top of a flight of steps a deserted temple, 
 a hollow, wind-swept place, containing an ancestral 
 tablet over a da'fs, made us think we must have arrived 
 at last. 
 
 “ And the tomb ? ” we asked. 
 
 Further on, they said ; and descending through 
 paved courtyards and through temple gates, we found 
 ourselves at the entrance of that which appeared to 
 be a tunnel. 
 
 The donkey-boys indicated that we should enter. 
 A kind of subway on a steep inclined plane led us out 
 into a ruined building on a higher level. 
 
 “ And where is the tomb ? ” we asked. 
 
 The most intelligent of our companions waved his 
 hand majestically towards the wooded hill rising 
 
 297 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 steeply just ahead of us, and entered into a voluble 
 explanation only a few words of which did we under- 
 stand. 
 
 We had arrived — so much was clear — and later on 
 the mystery was solved. 
 
 For some strange reason the burial-place of Hung 
 Wu, the Emperor who died more than five hundred 
 years ago, was never to be divulged. 
 
 The wooded hill, composed of soil from the eighteen 
 provinces of China — according to tradition — has held 
 its secret through the years. All those who assisted 
 in the burial ceremony were beheaded then and there, 
 in order that none should ever know the exact spot 
 of the imperial tomb ! 
 
 In later days — as short a time back as 1901 — a 
 different method was resorted to in order to ensure 
 secrecy. When, after the Boxer Rebellion, enquiries 
 were set on foot with a view to the punishment of 
 offenders, the miscreants guarded themselves to the 
 best of their ability by having the tongues cut out of 
 those men who could have given recriminating evi- 
 dence. 
 
 The Temple of Ten Thousand Gods in the midst 
 of the city, built twenty years ago, was a crude con- 
 trast to the ancient ruins of Nanking. Gilded images 
 of the Goddess of Mercy, large and small, but mostly 
 small, were there in their thousands, lining the walls 
 from floor to ceiling, covering the roof, resting on the 
 beams, swarming here, there, and everywhere, like a 
 pest of gilded locusts held spell-bound. A young 
 
 298 
 
STONE FIGURES, NANKING 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 Buddhist priest, with an intellectual face, stood 
 guard over them, and enquired with interest where 
 we had come from. 
 
 “ Our unworthy kingdom is England,” we answered. 
 
 “ Ah ! is that so ? And the idols, too, come from 
 England ! ” he said, in the tone of one who would 
 pay a compliment. 
 
 At Chinkiang, two hours by rail from Nanking on 
 the way back to Shanghai, the Grand Canal flows 
 into the Yangtse, and at Chinkiang we started forth 
 on a steam launch to the city of Yangcheo. The only 
 available first-class cabin was like a large egg-box. 
 We were packed into it with a couple of bulky Chinese 
 in wadded silks and satins, two Chinese ladies, and a 
 child the shape of an extenuated bolster in its padded 
 garments. The tiny slits of windows were too high 
 up to see out of, there was no room to open the door, 
 and to intensify the discomfort one of the native 
 ladies coughed ominously with a view to being sea- 
 sick. 
 
 At Yangcheo, after two hours in the “ egg-box,” 
 excitement became intense. The rule on these 
 occasions seems to be, “ Each for himself, and the 
 d — 1 take the hindermost.” Everybody shouts at 
 once, and he who can bawl louder than his fellow 
 wins. 
 
 Yangcheo is one of the largest cities in this part of 
 China, and is a favourite place for retired officials 
 
 299 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 and merchants, who come hither and fritter their 
 substance away in idle pleasures. There was only an 
 apology for a landing-stage. A greasy plank connected 
 the launch with a flight of slippery, rickety steps 
 climbing a steep mud-bank. On the steps a howling 
 mob tried to board the launch ; on the launch a 
 howling mob tried to board the steps ! 
 
 I had forced my way on deck in order to “ keep 
 an eye ” on the luggage, and found myself nearly 
 pushed overboard by two combatants. Below stairs 
 a still fiercer fight was going on ; one man had got 
 another down and was jumping wildly on his chest, 
 and all for the sake of a few “ cash ” of “ wine money ” 
 which a passenger had declined to give to the 
 “ steward.” 
 
 Fortunately a servant had been sent to meet us. 
 We saw him at the back of the crowd waving an 
 English letter as a signal, and leaving him to extricate 
 our luggage as best he could, we climbed into sedan- 
 chairs and were borne swiftly away from the pande- 
 monium on the shore — through back streets silent 
 and vault-like, winding in and out between high 
 walls, till we came to the busy thoroughfares hung 
 with shop-signs — red, yellow, black, emerald green, 
 and royal blue — and fantastic lanterns — crimson and 
 gold — which swayed above the heads of stately 
 Celestials in silk and fur, stepping ponderously along, 
 and hurrying coolies, chanting lustily, bearing heavy 
 burdens on bamboo poles, and keeping time with their 
 feet to the see-sawing tune of the chant. 
 
 300 
 
FIVE-ROOFED BRIDGE AT YANGCHEO 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 To quote a translation I came across the other day 
 of some Chinese lines : — 
 
 “ Books, drawings, chess and music with odes and 
 wine and flowers, 
 
 These pleasures seven were once the joy of rich 
 men’s leisure hours ; 
 
 But now the tune of life is pitched to a totally 
 different key, 
 
 ’Tis only fuel and rice and oil, salt, vinegar sauces, 
 and tea ! ” 
 
 And to these one should add — “ and the opium pipe 
 and the dice.” 
 
 Amongst the wealthier classes the ladies have little 
 or no education and no useful occupations, and 
 Yangcheo apparently shows no desire to emulate other 
 cities of China in the pursuit of Western learning. 
 The Yangcheo people go on in their old way absolutely 
 content, but even so the town gives one the impression 
 of prosperity. The main streets, seven feet wide, are 
 stirring with life and ablaze with colour. Those who 
 can afford to do so ride in sedan-chairs, the others 
 patronise the wheelbarrow, and their dignity on those 
 occasions was my “ envy and despair.” I sat on the 
 little ledge by the side of the wheel and was bumped 
 ruthlessly up and down. My coat kept trailing in the 
 mud, and I had to hold on to keep from falling off 
 as we rattled over the broken flagstones and tumbled 
 in and out of ruts. 
 
 The smaller streets are hardly more than four feet 
 wide, creeping along between high white walls, re- 
 minding one of passages in a cellar. 
 
 301 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The Grand Canal, Yangcheo’s link with the outer 
 world, has been in existence, I suppose, for more than 
 six hundred years, and is as useful now as ever it was. 
 On my way back to Chinkiang I had an “ egg-box ” 
 to myself, and could see all there was to be seen of 
 the mud-coloured river low down between steep 
 mud-coloured banks, on the top of which every now 
 and again a row of peasants showed up against the 
 ky, towing a haystack floating on the water, which 
 turned out on closer inspection to be a cargo-boat 
 filled with straw, but the boat itself was so heavily 
 laden as to be practically invisible. 
 
 302 
 
Hangcheo, 
 
 January , 1909. 
 
 We are on our way to one of the two cities of 
 China. According to a Chinese proverb : “ Heaven 
 is above and Hangcheo and Sucheo lie below.” The 
 Hangcheo train, as they call it, from Shanghai to 
 Hangcheo, consists of a number of passenger barges 
 strung together, one behind the other, and towed 
 by a small steam-launch. The boats are provided 
 with cabins of the nature of fowl-houses. You 
 struggle into them through a door about three 
 feet high, and plunge down a steep ladder into their 
 darksome depths. Most of them contain two berths 
 on either side and a table across the end. On the roof 
 of the cabins the third-class passengers “ roost.” 
 They sit huddled up in their wadded clothes like hens 
 on a perch with their feathers fluffed out, and eye us 
 solemnly, much as a row of hens would turn suspicious 
 eyes on intruders. 
 
 Gliding down the Sucheo creek into the Huang Pu 
 River on that winter’s evening we saw Shanghai in a 
 new light. Hovels of the Middle Ages, with gilded 
 shop-signs and crimson lanterns, side by side with 
 European buildings crude and gigantic, picturesque 
 
 303 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 junks with tawny sails and gorgeously painted wood- 
 work, and modern gunboats and merchant steamers 
 plain and solid — the old and the new “ smudged ” 
 together into one glorious “ Turneresque ” picture 
 of a fiery sunset smouldering ’midst clouds of smoke, 
 and smoke-like clouds in sky and water. 
 
 For twenty-four hours we must travel in this 
 Hangcheo “ train,” a good eight hours of which, 
 however, have been absorbed by the night. The 
 “ fowl-house ” proves a more comfortable room 
 than we anticipated, and Wu Ma, our new servant, 
 attends carefully to all our wants. 
 
 It is a cold, sunless day ; the wind shivers through 
 the leafless trees on the banks of the Grand Canal, 
 into which we have now found our way. It is more 
 picturesque here than it was near Yangcheo, and 
 meanders along past banks studded with orchards of 
 mulberry trees, bare now and scraggy, varied by 
 clumps of fir and bamboo thickets. Now and again 
 a large grey stone “ Noah’s ark ” crops up unexpectedly 
 on the bank, and turns out to be a grave. At fairly 
 frequent intervals a village comes in sight. The 
 clustering houses look down long flights of steps into 
 the water. The most striking feature of the place is 
 usually a stone bridge, rising high in the centre and 
 towering above the low white plastered buildings on 
 the shore. 
 
 The Hangcheo “ train ” is long and unwieldy, and 
 
 3°4 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 every now and then its tail gets jammed against a 
 bridge, or hung up round a corner. It is dark before 
 we arrive, and too late, according to VVu Ma, to get 
 into the city that night. 
 
 Hangcheo you must know has gone one better than 
 its rival city of Sucheo and has started the first 
 genuinely Chinese railway in the whole of China 
 — financed by the Chinese, built by the Chinese, 
 and run by the Chinese. True, at present it only 
 runs for a few miles, but it calls itself by the name 
 of the province, and means to do great things in 
 the future. Its ways are peculiar to itself. When 
 the train is sufficiently full it starts off, irrespective 
 of the fact that the appointed hour on the time-table 
 has not yet arrived, and on one occasion an ardent 
 passenger was considerably baffled by hearing that 
 the train would not run that day because there were 
 so few people ! It is said that the “ Company ” is 
 feathering its own nest, that instead of paying hand- 
 somely for the land, they more or less commandeered 
 it — “ bought ” a good deal more than they needed 
 and are selling it at a profit. 
 
 We amused ourselves reading the notices put up in 
 English and Chinese in the carriages. 
 
 “ Only -petty things and hand-baggage are allowed 
 — and people who are dirty, sick, mad, or drunken 
 are not to be admitted,” and so forth. 
 
 The train landed us outside the city gates, but 
 report goes that ere long the sacred precincts of the 
 city itself are to be invaded by the “ iron road ” and 
 x 3°5 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the “ fire carriage,” which proves how “ advanced ” 
 Hangcheo has become. 
 
 You would be amused to see our dwelling-place — 
 a suite of half -furnished rooms over a boys’ school, 
 and the school is in charge of a native pastor who, 
 with his wife and family, live in the adjoining house, 
 and who treat us in some measure as their own guests. 
 I welcome the fact that we are not absolutely staying 
 with them in their own abode. They are kindness 
 itself ; but as the greatest politeness a Chinese hostess 
 can show her guest is to share her room with her at 
 night, I think we are more comfortable as we are. 
 We have brought with us all that is necessary — 
 bedding, washing basins, cooking utensils, and foreign 
 food and foot-stoves, and Wu Ma, for a penny 
 or so, has purchased himself a thing made of burnt 
 clay called a wind-stove, on which he does our 
 cooking. 
 
 Fortunately we are out a good deal, otherwise we 
 might find the unceasing din of the recitations in 
 the schoolroom below stairs a little trying. Between 
 us and the boys we have only a few slender planks of 
 wood somewhat cracked and decayed. Soon after 
 daybreak they start their Herculean task — learning by 
 heart and out loud a series of text-books, beginning, 
 probably, with the Trimetric al Classic , continuing 
 with the Century of Surnames, going on with the 
 book of the thousand characters and the odes for 
 children, Ten Canons of Filial Duty, and the Juvenile 
 Instructor. Picture a dozen boys or more, each learn- 
 
 306 
 
WESTERN LAKE, II ANGCHEO 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 ing his own lesson out loud, some shouting in the 
 treble, some shouting in the bass, some declaring, 
 “ All men at the beginning have a virtuous nature,” 
 others chanting, “ If one does not learn, one is in- 
 ferior to animals and insects,” and a third section 
 droning forth, “ Humanity, justice, propriety, wisdom, 
 and truth, these five cardinal virtues are not to be 
 confused.” * 
 
 We presume they must have stopped sometimes 
 for meals, but the interval was hardly noticeable. 
 
 Hangcheo, renowned for its beauty by writers old 
 and new, is a city of white- walled buildings massed 
 around the “ Hill of the Golden King ” on the shores 
 of enchanted seas. The hill is wooded from base to 
 summit and crowned by a Buddhist temple. Look- 
 ing down from its heights over the wide expanse 
 of houses stretched out on the flat, one is irresistibly 
 reminded of some gigantic bed of mushrooms, by the 
 white walls and black roofs pressed closely together, 
 the white predominating. Out to the west the wonder- 
 ful Western Lake (said to be twelve miles round) lies 
 asleep amongst shadowy blue hills, and in front of us, 
 hardly more than a mile away, an open stretch of 
 sky and haze betokens the sea 
 
 Our “mushroom beds” turned into noisy streets. 
 We rode through them in sedan-chairs, and our 
 chair-bearers, racing through the crowd, kept up 
 
 * These are the books used in an ordinary Chinese school. Prob- 
 ably, in the case of the Hangcheo scholars, Western literature played 
 a part in the curriculum. 
 
 307 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 a continuous shout, calling to the people to make 
 room for us to pass. There is no rumbling of vehicles 
 or tramp of horses in these busy Chinese thorough- 
 fares, but the loud, excited voices of the people, 
 the thud, thudding of drums, beating of gongs, and 
 rattling of rattles keep up an incessant din. Most 
 of the street pedlars have an instrument, either 
 musical or unmusical, a bell, gong, or rattle, by which 
 they announce their presence. 
 
 In the midst of them all a woman ran through 
 the crowd, tears streaming down her face, crying 
 in agony, with a child’s clothes in her arms. “ Come 
 home, come home ! ” she shrieked, and called the 
 words piteously again and again. Her child must 
 be dangerously ill, they told us, probably lying in a 
 state of unconsciousness, and she, thinking his soul 
 had escaped, was seeking for it through the city, 
 calling it eagerly to return to its owner, and the 
 clothes were a kind of bait! 
 
 Arrived on the shore of the Western Lake we 
 stepped into a gilded barge and glided forth on the 
 enchanted sea — so clear was the water, hardly more 
 than two feet deep, and the wooded mountains 
 girding the shores solemnly viewed themselves in 
 the crystal mirror. At certain seasons of the year 
 the glossy green of the camphor trees mingling with 
 the purple leaves of the tallow and the dark foliage 
 of the “ arbor vitae ” make a glorious setting to this 
 inland sea. 
 
 On a tree-clad headland the “ Tower of the Thun- 
 
 308 
 
TOWER OF THE THUNDERING PEAK, HANGCHEO 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 dering Peak ” stands in majestic solitude, just as it 
 stood more than a thousand years ago, when Suchuen 
 the beautiful was imprisoned beneath its walls. 
 One hundred and twenty feet high, it is an almost 
 solid block of masonry, chipped and crumbling a 
 little with time, but still good for many years to 
 come ; fortunately so, say the geomancers. In the 
 lonely glades at the foot of the hill a silent temple 
 presides over graves without number, and in tiny rows 
 of white-walled houses coffins are mouldering with 
 the years. From the shores of the dead and gone 
 our boat drifted across the silvery water to a lotus 
 island. Over the lotus ponds a serpentine bridge of 
 carved stone winds in and out, covering, perhaps, 
 half a mile of ground. A Confucian temple and a 
 famous garden of elusive paths hiding amongst 
 rockwork are the sights of the lotus island, and out 
 in the water of the lake close by grey stone pillars 
 of ancient date are held in great veneration, and 
 worshipped by the Hangcheo officials on the fifteenth 
 day of the eighth moon. 
 
 Six hundred years or so ago Hangcheo was the 
 capital of China. The blood-red walls of the old 
 imperial palace are still mirrored in the waters of 
 the lake, but on the “ sacred ” shores below the great 
 pagoda which “ controls ” the literary influences of the 
 city, and side by side with the very pagoda itself, the 
 houses of the Western “ barbarians ” have doubtless 
 
 3°9 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 in their time created discord between the “ Azure 
 Dragon ” and the “ White Tiger.” But now the old 
 and the new live together in harmony ; and Hangcheo 
 stands in the front ranks of the progressive army. 
 The sanatorium by the side of the pagoda and 
 the leper hospital at the foot of the hill are off- 
 shoots of the great medical work started in a small 
 way some years ago by an English doctor, and 
 now, thanks to his untiring energy and marvellous 
 ability, the one small original house has been trans- 
 formed into great buildings, a hospital for men, 
 another for women, a medical college for the train- 
 ing of native doctors, a convalescent home, and so 
 forth. 
 
 In the city, at the present time, properly qualified 
 medical men, who owe their training to these Western 
 hospitals, are engaged in practice amongst their own 
 countrymen. The Chinese are said to be especially 
 able surgeons, and the doctors trained in foreign 
 schools are much in request ; but prejudice dies 
 hard. If the case goes badly the patient will often 
 insist on calling in quack physicians as a last 
 resource, and that, as a rule, is the end of all 
 things. 
 
 Native methods sound ludicrous to Western ears, 
 but in some diseases native treatment is curiously effec- 
 tive. As to the drug shops, their name is legion, and 
 some of their wares are excellent. I would recommend 
 centipedes, for instance, soaked in oil in the case of 
 a burn, and for a tonic — elephant hide planed off into 
 
 310 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 thin strips. Moreover, there is a preparation of 
 rats said to be most beneficial when one’s hair is 
 coming out, and pounded bones and animals’ teeth 
 are all useful in their way, to say nothing of armadillo 
 scales used for scratching an irritable place. Amongst 
 native prescriptions some doubtless are of great 
 value, and a wide field of research stands open to 
 the student of chemistry who is also versed in the 
 intricacies of the language. 
 
 In China the soul is thought to reside in the liver, 
 the emotions in the pit of the stomach, and thoughts 
 come from the lungs. The brain seems of no con- 
 sequence whatever, but the right kidney is called the 
 “ gate of life.” A native doctor has to rely chiefly 
 on the pulse for his diagnosis, and in the case of a 
 female patient a bamboo screen blocks his vision. 
 First the left wrist and then the right are put 
 forth for his inspection. There are three points in 
 each pulse pregnant with meaning. A light pres- 
 sure in one case reveals the state of the stomach, 
 and a heavy pressure the condition of the spleen, 
 and so on through the different internal organs. 
 
 I have been told that the Dowager-Empress was 
 attended of late years by a French physician, who, 
 however, never saw her face to face, but was permitted 
 to feel her pulse. 
 
 Post-mortem examinations are practically impossible 
 in China ; the people have an unspeakable dread of 
 passing into the next world in a mutilated con- 
 dition. Even a dentist (over here) must give back 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the teeth he has extracted, and their owner preserves 
 them carefully against the day of his burial. Talking 
 of teeth reminds me of the Lanchi woman dentist, 
 but I am coming to that later on. 
 
 We travelled to Lanchi by the Tsien Tang River, 
 which flows within a mile of Hangcheo. “ You won’t 
 like it,” they all said ; “ the boats are the worst in 
 China, and at this time of the year, when winds 
 are strong, you will probably take seven days getting 
 as far as Lanchi.” 
 
 But the prophets were wrong. 
 
 True, there was a tearing wind, but it blew behind 
 us and helped us on our way ; and as to the boats, 
 they were covered with a matting roof arched over 
 from side to side, and were not so unlike our “ wu pan ” 
 on the Yangtse, except that (and therein lies the chief 
 discomfort) the arched roof was open at either end, 
 making a channel for the wind, and, as Deborah aptly 
 remarked, on the occasion of our first meal — “ it was 
 like sitting down to dinner in a draughty tunnel.” 
 At this time of the year the wind is glacial. For 
 warmth and privacy only one thing was possible, 
 namely a four-sided curtain, made like a small tent, 
 to cover over each bed, and fortunately we had brought 
 these with us. 
 
 When too cold to stand the wind in the tunnel 
 any longer we retired to our respective tents, and sat 
 cross-legged on silken divans like Arabian princesses, 
 waited on by the attentive Wu Ma, who served us 
 up dainty meals on improvised tables, brought us 
 
 3*2 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 basins of hot water to wash in, and filled our foot- 
 stoves with glowing charcoal . Occasionally we emerged 
 and looked at the view. We were being swept on by 
 the winds along a winding river of reseda hue, be- 
 tween the wooded hills, feathery bamboo groves 
 darkened by clumps of pine, to a shadowy land where 
 mountains veiled in blue gauze faded into clouds. 
 The men put up the sail and rested on their oars, 
 except at those moments when the rushing sound 
 of many waters warned them of the approach of a 
 rapid. Then, filling the air with fiendish yells, 
 they pressed the oars forward with their bodies, 
 as being probably more efficacious than their hands, 
 bending almost double in their exertions, and then 
 suddenly, as though by magic, the shouts and the 
 splashing of the waves ended in silence, the captain 
 got out his pipe with a smile, nobody said a word, 
 but one felt that a sense of relief had fallen on the 
 company. 
 
 Thanks to the gale sweeping us on we did a 
 record journey, three hundred and sixty “ li ” in 
 three days, and Lanchi, with its white-walled 
 houses huddled together by the waterside like a 
 frightened flock of sheep, lay before us. A long 
 flight of slimy wooden steps led up the steep mud- 
 bank on the shore, and the city gates standing 
 on the top of a second flight looked as though they 
 had just drawn back in time to prevent themselves 
 from falling over into the water. 
 
 Our friend of Lanchi — Ba Kiaotsi, as VVu Ma 
 
 313 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 called her — came down the steps to meet us. She 
 was the only Westerner in the whole city just at 
 that time, and so well known and highly thought 
 of, that with her for a guide we felt that the people 
 who thronged to look at us in the streets eyed the 
 “ foreign barbarians ” with less contempt than usual. 
 The mud lay an inch or more thick on the steps 
 climbing up to the city gates, and flooded in a stagnant 
 stream the narrow, arcade-like streets. The sky 
 was practically non-existent, and instead of it, gay 
 lanterns of poppy red, resplendent shop-signs, black 
 and gold and royal blue, inscribed with gilt lettering, 
 made one long blaze of colour as far as the eye could 
 reach. The reds and golds of the oranges and pu- 
 melos, the scarlet chillies and crimson “ iang-mei,” 
 the clothes shops, in which brocaded gowns in purple, 
 amethyst, blue, and imperial yellow were suspended 
 like gay banners from aloft, the copper-ware burnished 
 and beautiful, and the stately drug stores, the finest 
 of all in outward appearance, and with no apparent 
 stock-in-trade, save a few handsome jars of delicate 
 porcelain — all played a part in the wonderful scheme 
 of colour. Once or twice the crowd pressed too 
 closely on our heels. The mild remark, “ I fear 
 your parents died too early,” made in polite tones, 
 instantly dispersed the aggressors ! They had “ lost 
 face ” in the eyes of the crowd, who laughed at their 
 discomfiture. We passed a shaven Buddhist priest, 
 in his grey gown, who was accumulating merit in the 
 next world by going down on his knees every few 
 
 314 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 minutes in the black slime, and a little further on 
 at a street corner a woman dentist stood awaiting 
 custom. She wore a chop-stick in her hair, the 
 sign of her trade. By clever manipulation of a 
 decayed tooth with the chop-stick she extracts a 
 tiny worm, of the nature of a maggot, whereupon 
 the sufferer, relieved of pain, goes away rejoicing. 
 How the worm is produced nobody knows. I imagine 
 the same worm has to officiate on all occasions. 
 But far more curious than the worm treatment is 
 some extraordinary drug used in the form of a 
 powder by a native dentist of the neighbourhood. 
 When well rubbed into the gum of a decayed tooth 
 it so loosens the fangs that they practically come out 
 of their own accord. 
 
 Nobody knows what the drug can be, and it is 
 said that the use of it has a harmful effect on the rest 
 of the teeth. 
 
 Leaving the streets behind us, we passed out amongst 
 the graves. On some of the grass-grown mounds a 
 handful of white lime had been placed by those who 
 were doing good deeds with a view to the next world 
 and worshipping at the graves of those who had no 
 belongings of their own. Here and there we came 
 across an unburied coffin, but the lime and charcoal 
 with which it was partly filled prevented any in- 
 sanitary odour. 
 
 We climbed the hillside, which later on will be 
 covered with azaleas and lilies, and gathered a few 
 violets and looked down over the surrounding country 
 
 3i 5 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 — the city of Lanchi, far below us, the white patches 
 of the many walls reminding one of some gigantic 
 washing-ground, in which white sheets were spread 
 out to dry. Beyond it the Tsien Tang River, cold 
 and grey, branching out into a fork just above the 
 town, meandered away between wide sandy shores 
 round the foot of the hills. 
 
 Descending by steps worn to the smoothness of 
 ice by many generations of feet, we looked in at the 
 temple of the “ King of Hell,” a dreary, neglected 
 place, with dust instead of paint on the wooden images 
 and on the doors and the pillars. Strange shadowy 
 images peopled the nooks and corners, the remnants 
 of the idols. There is a project on foot to subscribe 
 five thousand dollars towards the renovation of this 
 dismal abode. The authorities, however, are not 
 at one in the matter. There are some who wish the 
 money to be given to our friend Ba Kiaotsi for the 
 establishment of an opium refuge. The question 
 has yet to be decided, but Ba Kiaotsi thinks the 
 “ King of Hell ” will win. 
 
 Our hostess’s medical knowledge has won her 
 fame in every part of Lanchi. She took me with 
 her to the house of one of her patients, the wife of 
 a mandarin. Former experiences of wealthy Chinese 
 mansions have taught me that the more one expects, 
 the less one will probably find. From the narrow 
 street of black mud and closely packed houses we 
 stepped through palatial gates into a dirty outer 
 courtyard, where an orange stall was set up. We 
 
 316 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 passed from courtyard to courtyard, the inner ones 
 cleaner than the outer, occasional pots of flowers 
 and bits of rockwork suggesting a garden. One- 
 storied buildings, like so many pavilions, surrounded 
 the courtyards and formed the living-rooms of the 
 six sons and their wives, and doubtless of many other 
 relations as well. 
 
 We were invited through to the bedroom of the 
 little “ Tai Tai,” the wife of the sixth son, whom 
 Ba Kiaotsi had come to see. 
 
 It was a narrow room built like a long passage, and 
 seemed literally packed with women ; how many 
 were “ Tai Tai’s,” how many were merely attendants, 
 it was at first difficult to make out. 
 
 I discovered the patient to be the minute lady 
 with thickly powdered face and immaculately dressed 
 hair, who was sitting at a table placed against the 
 wall, feeding herself with her chop-sticks from a 
 variety of tiny basins full of savoury chopped meats 
 and gravies, and displaying an appetite uncommonly 
 good for an invalid. 
 
 I am told that one of the few things about 
 Westerners that the Chinese really admire is the way 
 in which a family party can sit down to dinner and 
 partake of the same dishes without discord. 
 
 In a Chinese family each member likes his own 
 vegetables, pickles, sauces, etc., and each requires 
 something different to the others. We, the Westerners, 
 they say, have more crockery on our tables, but they, 
 the Chinese, have more food. 
 
 317 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 The invalid with the chop-sticks looked listless 
 and disinclined to talk. It appeared to me the ser- 
 vants did most of the conversation, and to my 
 surprise, nobody asked me my honourable age and 
 the number of my sons. All interest was centred 
 in my clothes, which, of course, I explained were 
 “ contemptible foreign things ” and came from 
 “my unworthy country, England.” The “ Tai Tai” 
 quite brightened up over the question of the clothes, 
 and became radiant when Ba Kiaotsi diagnosed her 
 complaint as non-serious. They thanked her most 
 effusively, and clung affectionately to her as she said 
 good-bye, and extended their gratitude even to me. 
 “ Walk slowly,” they said, “ Sit slowly,” said we, and 
 left as honoured guests. It was, therefore, rather 
 a shock to me to see the family altar all ablaze with 
 candles and incense on our way out, and to be told 
 (afterwards) that it was done in self-defence, to 
 combat any evil influences we might have left 
 behind. 
 
 As we retraced our steps through the city we came 
 to a little lakelet enclosed by the walls of houses, 
 silent and peaceful, nestling in this secluded out-of- 
 the-way corner. But the stillness was the silence of 
 death. 
 
 It was getting dark, and even as we passed in the 
 shadow a crouching figure moved forward close to 
 the wall, and slipped away again when she saw she 
 was not alone. 
 
 It is said they come to this silent pool to drown 
 
 3*8 
 
OUR BOAT ON THE TSIEN TANG RIVER A TAII.OR IN BA Kl ' 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the poor girl-babies who arc not wanted. Some- 
 times it is only a case of burial, but at others — 
 and one thought of Victor Hugo’s words in Les 
 Miser able s : — 
 
 “ Est-ce qu’ils etaient touts morts ? 
 
 On dit que non.” 
 
 But to turn to more cheerful subjects. 
 
 We have been investing in some Chinese coats 
 made by an excellent Lanchi tailor. He worked 
 here at the house, provided his own food, and charged 
 fivepence a day. An astute observer of the Chinese 
 says that they seem to be able to do almost every- 
 thing by means of almost nothing. All I got for my 
 tailor was a length of silk. He arrived with his paste- 
 pot, his iron, his needle and thread, and his “ grey 
 mouse ” — in other words, a tiny bag the size of a 
 mouse filled with chalk, through which a little cord 
 is drawn, in order to mark out seams to be cut. In 
 true contrariwise fashion, Chinese tailors chalk the 
 table and not the material, and place the latter in 
 the chalked-out divisions. Their accurate calculations, 
 resulting in great economy of cloth, would be a lesson 
 to many a cutter-out in Western lands. Finally, 
 after about three days’ work, behold a dainty garment 
 complete in every detail — the buttons, cords, braided 
 trimming, etc., etc., have all been evolved from the 
 one length of silk plus the paste-pot and the iron and 
 Chinese ingenuity. 
 
 As we went back to our boat, moored amidst 
 
 319 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the bamboo rafts at the foot of the wooden steps, 
 an intelligent-looking man stopped Ba Kiaotsi to 
 ask a question concerning these two strange foreign 
 ladies. 
 
 “ Do those feathers ” (they were really quills) 
 “in their hats mean that they have official degrees ?” 
 he asked ; “ and which is the highest rank, the blue 
 or the white ? ” 
 
 After all, the question was not so absurd in a 
 country where different-coloured buttons worn on 
 the caps show the rank of the wearer and a peacock’s 
 feather is one of the highest honours. 
 
 Close to the landing-stage a small wooden house 
 had just been erected for the reception of the dead 
 body of one of Ba Kiaotsi’s neighbours. He was the 
 prosperous owner of a cracker shop and had died 
 suddenly on a boat coming up from Hangcheo. 
 This had meant enormous expense to the bereaved 
 family. First the boatmen had been heavily com- 
 pensated ; they could expect no more passengers 
 that year, after a death on their boat ; and then this 
 temporary abode for the coffin had had to be built, 
 as it is unlucky in the highest degree to take a corpse 
 into a house, and no city will allow one to be brought 
 within its gates. 
 
 As we drifted down river our last sight of Lanchi 
 was of the cracker-maker’s mortuary chapel and Ba 
 Kiaotsi standing waving a farewell on the top of 
 the steps, whilst the cook and the teacher and the 
 table boy stood like solemn sphinxes eyeing the 
 
 320 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 departing guests. The sun was out in all its 
 splendour, the silver-spangled river dipped down 
 between green hills shaded by spreading camphor 
 trees, but the tops of the mountains were wreathed 
 in snow. 
 
 i 
 
 Y 
 
 321 
 
Shanghai, 
 
 February , 1909. 
 
 New Year’s Day, January the twenty-third, found 
 us back in Shanghai. The native city is like a 
 disturbed ant-heap. A recent snowfall has made 
 everyone happy, for snow at this season is looked 
 upon as an omen of good fortune in the coming 
 year. At the temple of the city god those who can 
 afford to do so are making supreme efforts to secure 
 the favour of the hidden powers. They have brought 
 with them long strings of silver money and bunches 
 of red candles. The gogs and magogs of painted 
 wood guarding the doors have their share of the spoil. 
 Great bonfires of the tinfoil “ silver ” are burning 
 fiercely in front of them, and first one worshipper and 
 then another steps forward hastily, flinging new 
 strings of this strange coinage on the burning pile, 
 and as the flames leap up, licking in this fresh fuel, 
 the donor turns away with a sense of relief. He has 
 not only propitiated the god of his city, but also 
 squared his attendants down in Hades, and by so 
 doing has doubtless been of assistance to the spirits 
 of his deceased relatives, and saved them maybe 
 
 322 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 from the merciless hands of the phantom Yamen 
 runners. 
 
 The interior of the temple, usually dark and de- 
 serted, is ablaze with candles, the air heavy with 
 incense ; the crowd is surging back and forth and 
 there is hardly room to stand. Portly citizens in 
 rich furs and costly brocades are “ ko teo-ing ” many 
 times in succession before the brilliantly lighted 
 altar, praying probably for sons and riches, long life 
 and honour, and one after another shakes a bamboo 
 box full of wooden labels until one jumps out from 
 amongst the rest. This is then carried to a priest, 
 who sits behind a tiny counter in the shadow near by. 
 In exchange for it he hands back a yellow slip of 
 paper, on which is shadowed forth in mystical language 
 the luck or ill-luck of the coming year. A young 
 man resplendent in superb silk garments had just 
 tried his fate as we approached. He read down the 
 slip of paper and his face fell. 
 
 “ Good or not good ? ” we asked. 
 
 “ Not good,” he answered, and taking up the 
 bamboo box once more, he tried his luck again. 
 
 Out in the courts of the temple the crowd waxed 
 thicker than ever, and in every nook and corner 
 gambling in some form or other was going on. A 
 fortune-teller with his bird pursued a thriving trade. 
 We watched them with amusement. A slim little 
 canary, with a sagacious tilt of the head, eyed his 
 master’s client knowingly, then hopped down the 
 table, picked out a slip of paper from the pack, and 
 
 323 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 was rewarded by the present of a seed, whilst the 
 enigmatical sentence inscribed upon the paper was 
 listened to as the voice of the gods. 
 
 A devout Chinese will sometimes keep a “ moral 
 account book.” There is a volume called The Rules 
 of Merit and Transgression , in which the commercial 
 value of deeds is given. For instance : To pay the 
 debts of a father counts ten to the good. To worship 
 at his burial fifty. And to bury a bird or lend an 
 umbrella one. On the other hand, to love a wife 
 more than a father or mother takes off a hundred, 
 and to dig up a worm in winter cancels the burying 
 of a bird. 
 
 On New Year’s Day, when China puts on its best 
 clothes and goes round to “ pai nien,” * it is pre- 
 sumed that there are some of the household who 
 stay at home to receive. I believe in most cases the 
 ladies of the family do not pay their own calls until 
 the fourth or fifth day of the New Year. I went to 
 Kay’s rooms to assist in dispensing tea and confec- 
 tionery to her guests, and found every chair and sofa 
 occupied by silent, well-dressed Chinese, with solemn, 
 dignified manners. It seemed to me that some of 
 their faces were strangely familiar. They sat sipping 
 their tea, joining now and again in the conversation 
 with perfect ease of manner. At last one made a 
 move, and bowing low, with many polite expressions 
 one after another, bade a courteous farewell. During 
 
 * Pay New Year calls. 
 
 324 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 the course of the morning I met some of them again, 
 but they had doffed their silk gowns and were en- 
 gaged in household duties, and our dignified guests 
 were, of course, the servants of the house, who had 
 been doing the correct thing in paying New Year 
 calls upon us dressed in their best clothes, some of 
 which probably had been hired or borrowed for the 
 occasion ! 
 
 A few days later there was a return of civilities 
 on the part of the heads of the household, in the form 
 of the Chinese equivalent of a tenants’ ball — a New 
 Year’s feast, to which fifty-three people were in- 
 vited. The “ tsing ! tsing ! tsing ! ” * with which 
 each one invites his neighbour to start eating always 
 reminds me of the clucking preparatory to a meal in 
 a poultry yard, and when once the business of eating 
 has commenced, the ensuing silence is also reminiscent 
 of our feathered friends. 
 
 This, however, is hardly fair on our dignified 
 guests, who are always willing to transfer the most 
 succulent morsels to their neighbours’ mouths, and 
 “ Tsing ! tsing ! tsing ! ” before dipping their own 
 chop-sticks into a fresh dish. 
 
 And this, I fear, will be my last Chinese meal, 
 not that I have ever acquired a taste for the flavour 
 of squashed lady-birds and mouse-traps, but my 
 interest in the people themselves has increased steadily. 
 I suppose I have fallen under that magnetic spell 
 
 * “ Please ! please ! please ! ” 
 
 325 
 
 V 2 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 which has influenced, either with or against their 
 will, so many foreign residents in China. 
 
 Was it not Bacon who said : “ Since things alter 
 for the worse spontaneously, if they be not altered 
 for the better designedly, what end will there be of 
 evil ? ” 
 
 At last there are signs that things in China are 
 being altered for the better designedly. There was a 
 time, and only a few years ago, when the Western 
 nations gathered round the prostrate form of their 
 Celestial neighbour and talked of his approaching 
 end. “ The decay of China,” “ the break-up of 
 China,” “ the last days of Peking ” — words such as 
 these rang forth through the world. Like Mother 
 Hubbard in the nursery rhyme, 
 
 “ They went out to buy him a coffin, 
 
 And when they came back 
 They found him a-laughin’.” 
 
 And now they pitch their tune to a totally different 
 key, and write of the “ uplift ” and “ the awaken- 
 ing ” of China, and quote a far-seeing author of 
 fifty years ago, who, speaking of the Chinese and the 
 old Egyptians, pointed out that they had survived 
 the Egyptians, survived the Persians, survived the 
 Greeks, survived the Romans, and were still there, 
 possessing “ as much youth and vitality in them as 
 the youngest of young nations.” 
 
 326 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 1 have been looking back over my travels through 
 the country, and thinking of the material which will 
 go to make one of “ three surviving nations of the 
 future ” — the untiring energy and skill of the men 
 who have navigated the waters of the Upper Yangtse 
 through many centuries, undismayed by difficulties and 
 dangers ; the physical vitality which enables them to 
 live and thrive in any climate, and in “ neglect of most 
 hygienic laws ” ; the patience and perseverance of the 
 gold-seekers on the rock-strewn shores of the river ; the 
 pluck and zeal of the scholars in the new Government 
 schools, who, at the age of forty years and over, have set 
 themselves to master a Western education ; the cheer- 
 fulness of the coolies, who spend their lives in one 
 incessant trot, weighted down by burdens ; the “ gift 
 of common sense ” with which, according to Sir 
 Robert Hart, the Chinese are so richly endowed ; 
 the intellectual and financial ability, the thrift and 
 economy out-rivalling even that of the Jews ; the 
 “ talent for industry pervading all classes.” 
 
 But now comes the rift in the lute. Whilst her 
 leading statesmen say, “ China needs armies, navies, 
 arsenals ; and the Westerners add, currency, rail- 
 ways, and scientific instruction,” there is still another 
 and deeper side to the question. I am quoting the 
 author of Chinese Characteristics. “ China’s needs 
 are few, they are character and conscience ; nay, 
 they are but one, for character is conscience.” 
 
 But I must not “ moralise ” further. 
 
 We go on board the steamer to-day, and a 
 
 327 
 
China as I Saw It 
 
 coolie, with his wheelbarrow, is waiting for the 
 luggage. 
 
 To quote the closing phrase in “Glory Flower’s” 
 last letter : “ Other words again discuss,” and for 
 the last time, with Chinese brush on Chinese shores, 
 I sign myself 
 
 328 
 
INDEX 
 
 Barbers, Chinese, 21 1, 290 
 
 Beggars, in China, 127, 137, 
 148, 225 
 
 Belgian -Chinese Railway, 80, 
 248 
 
 Brides, Chinese, 62, 216 
 
 Brigands, 209 
 
 Carts in North China, 64, 272, 
 274 
 
 Chefoo, 18, 237 
 
 — Naval College at, 244 
 
 Chekiang Railway, 305 
 
 Chinese vitality, 91 
 
 — thrift, 134, 153 
 
 — patience and perseverance, 
 201, 327 
 
 — cheerfulness, 138, 142 
 
 — industry, 97, 152 
 
 — imperturbability, 119, 135 
 
 — recklessness, 117, 235 
 
 — excitability, 122, 173, 237, 
 299 
 
 — callousness in face of death, 
 68 
 
 — indifference of pain, 92 
 
 — politeness, 262 
 
 — ingenuity, 276 
 
 Chinese disregard of comfort, 
 4 , 35 , 99 , 259 , 275 
 Ch’ong King, 144-147 
 
 beggar refuge at, 149 
 
 parade ground, 152 
 
 wedding at, 216 
 
 Coal, 47, 284 
 
 Coffins, 35, 94, 152, 169, 230, 
 3 i 5 , 320 
 Coinage, 223 
 Cooking, talent for, 202 
 Custom, a strange, 209 
 
 Dalai Lama, 279 
 Dentists, in China, 312, 315 
 Dowager Empress, reminis- 
 cences of, 263, 264 
 death of, 289 
 
 Ear purses, 268 
 Engineers, Chinese, 227 
 Emperor of China, death of, 
 288 
 
 Etiquette, 5, 26, 128, 157, 260, 
 262, 325 
 
 Examination cells, 180 
 Fans, 237 
 
Index 
 
 Feng-Tu, passport for Hades, 
 142 
 
 Fortune teller, 323 
 Fruit, 27, 119, 121, 243 
 
 “Gai-tsi,” 135 
 Gankin, 229 
 Gambling, 177 
 Gold seekers, 139 
 
 — to swallow, 127 
 Grand Canal, 302, 304 
 
 Hangcheo, 307 
 
 — western lake at, 308 
 Hankow, 36, 89, 94, 98 
 Hanyang, 88 
 
 House-boat on the Yangtse, 
 108 
 
 Hsii-keo, a dinner at, 278 
 Huai-Luh, 251 
 
 Ichang, too, 101 
 Idols, 282, 298 
 
 Inns, 53, 54, r6i, 250, 275, 
 287 
 
 Kiang Tsin, 212 
 Kialing river, 150, 159 
 Kiating, 203 
 
 Kingfisher feather ornaments, 
 207 
 
 Kuan Hsien, 192 
 
 irrigation works at, 193- 
 
 195 
 
 rope bridge at, 195 
 
 Kuei Fu, 126 
 palace at, 128 
 
 Lanchi, 2^-321 
 Language, 21-23 
 Legends, 143, 168, 225 
 Letter, a Chinese, 241 
 Li Ping, 193 
 
 Medical remedies, 294, 310, 
 3 1 1 
 
 Memorial arches, 65, 159 
 Military display, 85 
 
 — escort, 166 
 Militia men, 163 
 Min river, 201 
 
 Mission work, 15, 75, 137, 233, 
 253 
 
 Money for the dead, 14, 38, 322 
 Mourning for the dead, 33, 42, 
 231 
 
 Nanking, 294 
 
 — Manchu city at, 295 
 
 — Ming tomb at, 296 
 
 Official, an energetic, 149 
 Opium, 150 
 
 — den, 102-104 
 
 Pawnshops, 281 
 Peking, 61-67 
 
 — Forbidden City at, 66 
 
 — Temple of Heaven at, 69-7 1 
 
 — Lama Temple, 73 
 
 33 ° 
 
Index 
 
 Peking, Bell Temple, 77 
 Pigeons, 281 
 Pigs in shoes, 159 
 Ping Yao, 280-283 
 Points of the compass, use of, 
 253 
 
 Power of the people, 154 
 Punishments, 68, 106, 107, 230, 
 
 258 
 
 Pu Yi (Hsiian Tung, the new 
 Emperor), 290 
 
 Queues, 238 
 
 Restaurants, 29, 101 
 Roads, 158, 231, 275 
 Rules of the road, 160, 286 
 
 Salt wells, 167 
 Scissor grinders, 239 
 Schools, 43, 44, 90, 91, 182, 
 205, 243, 257, 306 
 Servants, 190, 198, 199, 265 
 Silver shoes, 105 
 Shadow show, 188 
 Shanghai, 1-3, 236. 322 
 — native city of, 9-1 1 
 Shi Kia Chuang, 249 
 Shops and shopping, 10, 65, 
 87, 88, 96, ioi, 137, 183, 
 203, 222 
 
 Sugar factory, 170 
 I Superstitions, 11,13, 28, 37, 47, 
 54. 93. i°3. no, M3. 146, 
 147, 152, 171. 184, 186, 254, 
 289, 308, 320 
 j Surgeons, Chinese, 310 
 | Surnames, Chinese, 30 
 
 Tailor’s God, 168 
 Teng-Cheo-Fu, 31-33 
 — Confucian temple at, 45 
 Tientsin, 60 
 Thibetans, 204 
 ; Trackers, 101, 116 
 Tsien Tang River, 312 
 | Tsingtau, 17 
 
 Visit, a strange, 34 
 
 j 'Vanhsien, 1 35-137 
 Wedding processions, 61, 164 
 Woo Chang, 90 
 
 Yangtse River, no 
 
 — Tong Lin rapid, 115 
 
 — Chin rapid, 1 19 
 
 — Wu Shan gorge, 122 
 
 — Wind-Box gorge, 125 
 
 — Shi Pao temple, 229 
 Yang Cheo, 299-301 
 
y 
 
 X 
 
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 WII-LIAM BRENDON AND SON, LTD 
 PLYMOUTH 
 

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
DS710 .R6 
 
 China as I saw it : a woman's letters 
 
 Princeton Theological Seminary-Speer Library