Part 12

Talking of horses leads me to dogs. I have had a sad loss in my little dog Nou-nou, of whom I was very fond. I told you what a little Turk he was, always getting himself into scrapes about his amours. Well, the other day he had some words with a big dog belonging to the sergeant of our escort, which ended in his getting a bite in the back that broke his spine and killed him. Everybody in the Legation regrets him, poor little beast; he had been at Peking ever since the foreign Legations first came here, and was quite a character about the place. I was very much grieved at his death.

We have been interested lately in the steps taken by the Russian Government to establish a telegraph from Kiachta to Peking and Tientsing. The Russians wish that it should be a Chinese enterprise, but that they, the Russians, should set it up and help in working it. Accordingly, they have sent an officer of engineers here with a complete apparatus to show the Chinese Government. It is set up in the gardens of the Russian Legation. Some four years ago, when Baron Gros returned to Europe, he sent out to the Prince of Kung a present of an electric telegraphic apparatus. Such was the horror which the Chinese then had of innovations, that the Prince not only refused to accept it, but even to see it. Now, however, the Government is more ripe for taking impressions from abroad. The members of the Foreign Office, and afterwards the Prince, have been to see the machine work, although the Prince took good care not to allow that his visit had any special purpose, and with that view went the round of all the Legations the same day. He watched the working of the telegraph without showing any great astonishment or perception of what was going on; but a few days afterwards M. Vlangaly, the Russian Minister, who had drawn up for the Prince a paper upon the subject of the international utility of telegraphs, received a very satisfactory despatch from the Foreign Office to the effect that one visit was not enough to enable the Ministers to appreciate so wonderful an invention, and that they hoped to be allowed to see it again. M. Vlangaly has had the happy idea of having some intelligent Chinese lads taught to work the telegraph, so next time the Prince comes he will see that his own people can learn to send off and take down messages. This is all a great step in advance. The French, who are always on the look-out to find that other Powers are extending their “influence,” as they call it, and in this case have the additional motive for jealousy in the refusal of Baron Gros’ present, look upon this move of the Russians with great distrust and dislike. We, on the contrary, are all for supporting any Power who will help the Chinese to move forwards. The superstitions of the people would be a great difficulty in the way of carrying out telegraphs, railroads, or any great engineering project in China. They would view with the utmost horror anything which might disturb places deemed sacred, lucky, or unlucky. They have a regular system for determining propitious places, manners of building, and the like. This they call “Fêng Shui,” the wind and water system, and it is universally believed in. No Chinaman, however educated, would inhabit a new house without ascertaining that it fulfilled all the requirements laid down in the books which treat of “Fêng Shui.” Some time ago one of our men was ill; our chief teacher, a man of great learning as Chinamen go, said quietly to Wade that it must be owing to a new chimney which had been built opposite to the sick man’s room, but about a hundred and fifty yards off. Any work which might be undertaken here must be carried out with all respect to the “Fêng Shui,” or it would run the risk of being destroyed. Graves and other sacred places must also not be interfered with. In carrying any engineering project into execution, the best plan would be for the engineer to lay down his line and employ Chinese experts in such matters to see how nearly it could be followed.

I have rather a good story to tell you. One of our subjects of complaint at the Chinese Foreign Office has been our being insulted in the streets of Peking by the riffraff of the place. Their means of annoyance is to howl out “Kwei-tzŭ” (devils) after us when our backs are turned, and then, of course, to look as if they had not done it. Well, the other day M. de Mas, the Spanish Minister, being about to leave Peking, exchanged compliments p.p.c. with all the members of the Foreign Board. Amongst them all Hêng-Chi distinguished himself by his _empressement_, sending M. de Mas a magnificent dinner _à la Chinoise_. M. de Mas went to thank him, and after the two old gentlemen had exchanged banalities to their hearts’ content, the Spaniard knowing that Hêng-Chi had a little son, the child of his old age, of whom he was inordinately proud, thought it would be a very pretty compliment if he asked to see the little boy, who was accordingly produced, sucking his thumb after the manner of his years. Him his father ordered to pay his respects to M. de Mas—that is to say, shake his united fists at him in token of salutation, instead of which the child, after long silence and much urging, taking his thumb deliberately out of his mouth, roared out “Kwei-tzŭ” at the top of his voice and fled. Imagine the consternation of the two old twaddles! Hêng-Chi was horrified, for after all his protestations of friendship to us, which by the bye took nobody in, it bored him not a little that we should find out that his child was brought up in the privacy of his harem to look upon us as devils.

A French missionary has been murdered in the province of Ssŭ-Chuan, in the extreme west. It is said that there are 800,000 Christians in the province. There have been persecutions and disturbances on their account of late, and the Government of Peking will have to take very

## active steps in the matter, or the French will be down upon them. The

central Government are always slow in punishing their provincial authorities, whom they fear; and in this instance they will be the more reluctant, as the governor of the province is a man who has done them good service as an administrator.

We hear rumours of reforms in China. If the present dynasty is to be preserved and China to remain independent, they must be brought about quickly, for the moment is critical. Nothing can be more rotten and corrupt than every branch of the administration, nothing can be more faithless than the conduct of the Chinese towards foreigners. With misery and discontent at home, and angry reclamations for breaches of treaty from abroad, the Government are beginning to tremble for their existence. If the remedy does not come soon it will be too late.

LETTER XVI

PEKING, _5th November 1865_.

I was awakened this morning by such a noise of squibs, crackers, petards, maroons, bombs, cannon, and all manner of fireworks, that I rubbed my eyes and was half inclined to fancy that some good fairy had transported me back to England, where Guy Fawkes’ day was being celebrated on a scale of unprecedented splendour. Not, however, that fireworks are a matter of astonishment here—they are going on at all hours of the day and night; our opposite neighbour, the Prince of Su, is continually letting off pieces which, to judge from the noise they make, would make the bouquet at Cremorne look very foolish. Fireworks and sweetmeats are the favourite dissipation of the Pekingese; the ladies especially take great delight in them, burning and sucking away immense sums. To-day Peking out-heroded itself: never was heard such a fizzing, cracking, popping, and banging; for this is the seventeenth day of the ninth moon, and although the Gunpowder Plot was never heard of here, and if it had been would not have produced any extraordinary sensation, still it is an occasion upon which every devout and proper Chinaman is bound to burn as many squibs as he can afford, or more; for the seventeenth day of the ninth moon is the birthday of a certain little pousa or god, by name Tsai-shên. Now this little god is a very great little god, being intimately connected with tradespeople, and especially with their profits; and as tradespeople here are very numerous, and all have a natural weakness for profits, a great many crackers and squibs are expended to do this little god honour and service—of course _à titre de revanche_; moreover, scraps of paper upon which are written or printed characters of good omen are burnt and scattered to the winds. Furthermore, this little god having been during his lifetime on earth connected with the Mohammedan religion, it is also a matter of decency to eat and invite him to eat mutton all day, for pork would evidently be an insult to him, while beef would be a deep personal affront to Buddha, but mutton satisfies all

## parties, including the eaters, provided that they have enough of it. I

have mentioned this because it seemed to me noteworthy that at the two ends of our hemisphere the same day should this year be from different causes celebrated somewhat in the same way.

The little Emperor leaves Peking to-day for the Tung-Ling, the tombs of the emperors of this dynasty. He goes to place his father’s coffin in the tomb which has been prepared for it, and which has taken four years to build. It is a great state occasion. The Emperor will be accompanied by the Prince of Kung, and all the court and chief ministers, with the exception of Wen Hsiang, who is the real Minister for Foreign Affairs. He remains to take charge of the capital. I shall be able to tell you nothing about the procession, for on these occasions the members of the Legations receive an official notification not to show themselves in certain streets between certain hours. Indeed, the whole thing is conducted within the city with as much secrecy and mystery as the Princess Badroulbadour’s procession to the bath in the _Arabian Nights_; shops are closed and shutters put up, and the streets are cleared along the line of march, for there is no saying what harm might happen to the state if a citizen of Peking were to catch a glimpse of the outside of the chair in which his Emperor is being carried. The consistency of the Chinese in this as in other matters is remarkable, for once the cavalcade is outside the city walls any lout may go and gape at it. The public gains one advantage from these Imperial progresses. The roads over which His Majesty is to pass are repaired, for it would never do for Imperial bones to be shaken and Imperial eyes offended by such roads as are good enough for “the hundred names” (which is the Chinese expression for the common people).

The Chinese-Mesopotamian treaty was signed on the 2nd instant, and I must say that the Chinese come uncommonly well out of the affair. They had already concluded a treaty with Mesopotamia at Shanghai, and had received no notification that the King of that country had refused to ratify it, when all of a sudden a gentleman appeared this summer announcing himself as plenipotentiary sent by the King to conclude a treaty, nothing being said of the former one. The Chinese, after some discussion, named two plenipotentiaries, and offered M. T—— his choice of any existing treaty. He, however, said, “A quoi bon envoyer un négociateur s’il ne doit pas négocier,” and sat down to compose a treaty on the principle of an amateur opera, out of four others. However, as the history of the treaty would not amuse you, it is enough to say that the Mesopotamian showed himself to be _plus Chinois que les Chinois_, while the Chinese exhibited a pliability and a willingness to accept innovations which took us all by surprise. The treaty is an affair of very small consideration; there has occasionally been a Mesopotamian ship seen in the Chinese seas, and there is one Mesopotamian subject in China who was declared bankrupt during the negotiations. But the conduct of the Chinese, as showing a desire to amend in their foreign policy, is of the last importance to us. They have shown in these negotiations that they have read their translation of Wheaton’s _International Law_ with profit, and they have departed from old precedents in a way which was enough to make the old conservatives’ tails stand on end.

The great difficulty with the Chinese has been their foreign policy. Their internal affairs would right themselves if they would accept our civilisation and our standard of official probity. But if they are to preserve their independence they must learn to keep faith with foreign nations and meet honesty with honesty.

Although in our recent dealings with the Chinese they have shown better faith and more loyalty than before, we have still many crows to pick with them. Breaches of treaty are endless. One of the articles upon which we insist the most is that which provides that a British subject offending against the Chinese law shall be handed over for punishment to the nearest consul. The Taeping rebellion has attracted to its ranks a vast number of rowdies, many of them deserters from the Imperialist army. If these men were caught and left to the mercy of the native authorities, it is fearful to think what their fate would be. We are at this moment trying to rescue one man from their clutches, and investigating the case of another whom they reported to have died a natural death while being taken to Shanghai; but as the report was not made until six weeks after his death, we suspect treachery. The central Government shows every disposition to help us, but governors of provinces are strong, and they know it. No stone, of course, will be left unturned to get back the living man (if indeed he be still alive), nor to exact retribution for the death of the other, if there should be proved to have been foul play. It is not yet all rose-colour, you see.

_13th November._

We have no news yet of the mail of 10th September, which brings out our new chief, Sir Rutherford Alcock. I was to have gone to Tientsing to meet him, but I fancied the river journey would be rather cold; and I am very glad I did not go, as I should have been dangling about Tientsing all these days, not knowing what to do with myself. In the meanwhile we are busy preparing for his reception. I am already in my new house, which is rather pretty, with a great deal of Chinese carved woodwork, but eminently adapted for catching rheumatism. It will cost me something to make it wind-tight. I hope, however, by degrees to make it comfortable and cosy.

I am in a state of philological orphanage. My first teacher, Ku, left me to go into some small office—office, however small, being dear to every Chinaman; my second, a most charming person, was caught stealing a dollar off my table. The man was really such a pleasant companion and such a good master that I rather wished to ignore the whole thing; but my servant Chang-Hsi represented that if Hsü Hsien Shêng remained he could be responsible for nothing that was lost, and so I had to pack off poor Hsü. He was a perfectly inexhaustible fund of anecdotes, proverbs, folk-lore, and Chinese small talk, so different from the ordinary run of Chinese teachers, whose only idea of broaching a conversation is to ask some preposterous question about one’s “honourable country.” If he could but have kept his hands from picking and stealing!

LETTER XVII

PEKING, _25th November 1865_.

We are sending off a mail to-day in the hopes that it will yet be able to leave Tientsing for Shanghai before we are finally shut out by the frost from communication with the outer world. After this our posts will be rare and uncertain, going by land to Chihfu and thence on. The winter has well set in; we have had several sharp frosts, which, although they are child’s play to what I have seen in Russia, are aggravated by cutting winds which blow clouds of dust, pricking one’s face like flights of needles. Nothing can be more bare and desolate than this city, now that it is stripped of its leaves. Everything looks gray and black, and the Chinese houses have a poor, pinched appearance that to English eyes, accustomed to see a cheerful fire blazing in even the poorest cottages, is very shivery. The natives are already swaddled up in furs and wadding, and commend me to a cold Chinaman for looking wretched. Their yellow-brown faces get perfectly livid and corpse-like under the effect of the cold winds, a great contrast to the tanned and sturdy Mongols who are beginning to flock into the city. The life in the streets is changed too by the innumerable droves of Bactrian camels with double humps that are pouring in long streams of merchandise.

One great advantage of this time of year is in the improvement of our larder. In summer we are obliged to ring the changes on tough beef and stringy mutton; now we have plenty of game—hares, several sorts of pheasants, wild duck, teal, snipes, and other birds innumerable. Soon we shall have varieties of venison, amongst them that of an antelope of Mongolia which the Chinese call Hwang-Yang, “yellow sheep,” said to be the daintiest venison in the world. Of fruit we have plenty; there is a certain small apple-shaped pear, by far the best I ever tasted. Grapes we have every day in the year, so that nature does as much for us as Mr. S——’s gardener does for him. To be sure, the gardener beats nature hollow as to quality.

The _Peking Gazette_ has just announced an appointment in the Chinese Foreign Office (the Tsung-Li Yamên), which is said to be the most important event, as far as foreign relations are concerned, that has taken place since the signature of Lord Elgin’s treaty. A mandarin of the name of Hsü has been named one of the high Ministers of the Office. This man some years ago was in high office in the province of Fohkien, and while there, he, with the help of certain American missionaries, wrote a work on the geography of the world, in which he examined foreign institutions and men with an interest which no Chinaman had ever before shown. His two favourite heroes were Napoleon and Washington. The book was written in a popular form, and had a large sale. After he had been in office three years he came to Peking to pay his respects to the Emperor, and during his visit was degraded on the plea that he had not conducted his government well, but really on account of the new views put forward in his book, and of his admiration and intelligence of foreign affairs. Now, for the very qualities which before brought him into disgrace, he is raised to the dignity of a red button of the third rank, and appointed to a vacancy in the Board of Foreign Ministers, which was made this spring by the dismissal of a mandarin named Hsüeh, who was degraded on account of his being suspected of attempts to bribe the Prince of Kung at the same time that His Imperial Highness was also out of favour. Hsü’s acceptance of office is looked upon as the beginning of a new era in our intercourse with the Chinese.

Sir Rutherford Alcock has reached Tientsing after a series of disasters. He came in a man-of-war from Shanghai, disdaining the regular steamers, and the consequence is that everything has gone wrong, the last mishap being the loss of the Legation treasure outside the bar at Taku, with 18,000 dollars. The sailors managed to upset the chest into the sea as they were transhipping it into the little steamer which was to bring it up the Peiho. There is a rumour that divers have recovered the chest; if it is true, I think they deserve all its contents for their pains. The weather is not exactly suited for diving. Meanwhile the Legation courtyards are being flooded with carts and packing-cases containing furniture, pianos, harmoniums, and games of croquet; the latter will be hard to use, for there is not a blade of grass nearer than the park round the Temple of Heaven.

LETTER XVIII

PEKING, _4th December 1865_.

The messenger who brought us in the welcome mail of the 26th September also told us that there was still a chance of catching a vessel at Taku, before the final freezing of the Gulf of Pechili—the river, of course, is long since closed—so here goes for the last account of us before we are shut up.

Sir Rutherford Alcock arrived here last Wednesday with his family. They had a terrible journey of it; three days from Tientsing in sedan chairs, sleeping in inns without fires, and only paper windows in different degrees of bad repair.

We are enjoying the _beau idéal_ of winter weather. We have had one fall of snow, which has left its traces in the shade and on the north side of the house-roofs; everywhere else it has disappeared under a sun which at mid-day is always genial; the sharp frosts of the night and early morning keep the ground as hard as iron; the air is perfectly delicious, and for many days we have not been visited by our chief curse, the wind, which comes tearing down from Mongolia to choke and blind us with dust. This weather, fine as it is, comes very hard on the beggars, who go about stark naked, livid with cold. The filth of the furs which the poorer Chinese wear surpasses belief. It is a common sight to see the sunny side of a wall occupied by half a dozen of the natives who have deliberately stripped themselves and are eagerly hunting after the vermin with which they swarm. The principal streets are crowded with sellers of cast-off clothes, rags that would be rejected by a respectable paper factory. They toss these about, singing a sort of monotonous rhythmical chant all the time, after the manner of Chinese hucksters, and they do a thriving trade in filth.