<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></SPAN>CHAPTER VII</h2>
<p class="smaller">Sir Thomas Wade demands his passports—Retires to man-of-war
off Tien-tsin—Interviews with Li-Hung-Chang—Convention
of Che-Foo—Description of Ichang on the Yang-tse—The
Manchester of Western China—Pak-hoï and its
harbour—A magnificent pagoda—Ceremony of opening the
port to foreign trade—New Year's <i>féte</i> at Pak-hoï—The
game of Morra—Description of Wenchau—Temples and
pagodas turned into inns—Wahn and its native officials—Dislike
of mandarins, etc., to missionaries—Beautiful surroundings
of the town—An eclipse of the moon expected—The
eclipse does not keep time—Excitement of the people—The
dragon attacks the moon at last—Threatening
message from the Emperor to the astronomers—Two astronomers
beheaded in <span class="smcap">B.C.</span> 2155—Reasons for importance
attached to eclipses in China.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">No</span> good purpose would be served by relating in
detail all the negotiations which took place after
the death of Margary, between Sir Thomas Wade
and the Government of Pekin, on the subject of the
reparation to be made for the murder. It will be
enough to say that after twenty months of shilly-shallying
on the part of the Chinese and dogged
perseverance on that of the British Envoy, the latter
demanded his passports, shut up his legation with
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</SPAN></span>
considerable <i>éclat</i>, and retired on board a man-of-war
in the port of Tien-tsin, whence he issued
a dignified threat of the imminent declaration of
war between England and China if his demands
were not complied with. This brought the Chinese
Government to reason, for the Emperor and his
advisers felt it would be better to yield everything
than to see a victorious English army march a
second time into Pekin. Sir Thomas Wade was
therefore invited to meet the now celebrated Li-Hung-Chang,
who became later so well-known in
London and in Paris, at Che-Foo, a treaty port
on the northern side of the province of Shantung,
and there was signed the famous convention, of
which on account of its great importance a <i>résumé</i>
of the principal clauses is given here:</p>
<div class="sidenote">THE CHE-FOO CONVENTION</div>
<p>A large money indemnity, £60,000, was to be
paid to the English Ambassador, to be distributed
amongst the families of Europeans who should be
in want or have lost their bread-winners in Yunnan.
An Imperial edict would be sent to the Viceroy of
Yunnan, who should discuss with some English
official, a commercial treaty between Burma and
the Chinese frontier province, where Margary met
his fate. England was to have the right of appointing
a representative at Tali-Fow, and he was to be
seconded in his researches by the Chinese authorities;
the country was to be opened to commerce; to
avoid misunderstandings it would be for the Tsung-li-Yamen,
or ministers of foreign affairs, to invite the
various European legations to draw up and submit
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</SPAN></span>
to them a code of etiquette by which alike the
Chinese and foreign signatories to the agreement
should be bound. China should send consuls and
ambassadors to foreign countries; when a Chinese
accused of a crime against a European is tried by
the Chinese authorities, the European authorities
shall have a right to be present in the court, but they
must not interfere; it is to be the same if the guilty
person is a European who is tried by Englishmen.
If, however, the representative of one of the two
powers is not satisfied with the verdict given, he
will have the right to protest. The penalty inflicted
on the condemned will be that prescribed by
the law of the country to which the judge belongs;
the <i>likin</i>, or inland tax, imposed on foreign goods
in transit, is no longer to be exacted in the
concessions belonging to Europeans; China will
permit Ichang in the province of Hupe, Wu-hu in
Anhui, Wenchow in Che-kiang, and Pak-hoï in
Canton to be opened to European trade; consuls
shall also be allowed to reside in each of these towns.
Acting in a spirit of conciliation China will allow
foreign steamers to take passengers and merchandise
to the following ports on the Yang-tse: Ta-Tung,
Anking, Hukow, Wusuch, Ling-hi-Kow, and
Sha-Shi. Furthermore, if foreign expeditions wish
to go by way of the Kan-su and Kokconor route
or by the way of Szechuan to Thibet and thence
to India, the Tsung-li-Yamen will give the necessary
passports to those expeditions, and instructions
will also be sent to the Chinese officials of Thibet
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</SPAN></span>
in order that the explorers may travel in all
security.</p>
<div class="fig_center" style="width: 326px;"><SPAN name="Fig_36"></SPAN><br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/fig36.png" width-obs="326" height-obs="346" alt="" />
<div class="fig_caption">FIG. 36.—PORTRAIT OF HIS EXCELLENCY<br/>LI-HUNG-CHANG.</div>
</div>
<p>This convention, which if fully acted on would
have completely revolutionized the position of
Europeans in China, was signed on the 13th
September, 1876, but though more than twenty-two
years have passed since then, much of it still
remains a dead letter. Now, however, there are
many signs of the inauguration of a very different
state of things; Chinese procrastinations and
delays can no longer avert the final opening up
of the whole country to European commerce and
colonization, the only question being which of the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</SPAN></span>
European powers will secure the largest share of
the undeveloped wealth of the inland provinces.</p>
<div class="sidenote">ICHANG</div>
<p>It will be interesting before going further to
inquire what is the present position of one or two
of the ports mentioned in the <i>résumé</i> just given
of the Treaty of 1876. We will begin with Ichang,
recent events having brought it into considerable
prominence. Beautifully situated on the banks of
the Yang-tse, one thousand miles from its mouth,
just at the entrance to the grand ravines of its
middle course, great things were hoped of Ichang
by the few Europeans who, emboldened by the
delusive promises of the Chinese Government, took
up their residence there in the early eighties. In
1883, we are told by Archibald Little, the intrepid
English explorer, who last year took a specially-constructed
steamer up to Chung-Ting, 500 miles
beyond Ichang, "the foreign community in the
latter town comprised a commissioner of customs
with three assistants; one Scotch Presbyterian
minister and his wife, and two Roman Catholic
missionaries; whilst in 1898 the foreigners had
increased to twelve Europeans employed in the
Imperial customs, and thirty missionaries. The
trade," he adds, "is a busy retail one, but there are
no large banks or wealthy wholesale merchants
such as there are at Sha-Shi, eighty miles lower
down the river, which has been called the 'Manchester
of Western China.' The opening to navigation
of the Upper Yang-tse will doubtless ere
long change all that, and the English owe a debt
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</SPAN></span>
of gratitude to the pioneers who have broken
through the long-sustained opposition of the junk-ring
to the use of steamers. Ichang will, it is
hoped, ere long become what its position marks it
out to be—a centre of foreign trade for the long-closed
border districts of Western China."</p>
<div class="sidenote">PAK-HOÏ</div>
<p>Pak-hoï, another of the Treaty ports of the 1876
Convention, presents a very marked contrast to
Ichang. It is a town of some 10,000 inhabitants
in the province of Canton, on the northern shore
of Tonking, and is likely, now that the concession
for the railway between it and Nanking has been
secured by the French Government, to be of great
importance as a port of export. Unfortunately,
however, it has not a good harbour, and as at
Hankow, large vessels are compelled to anchor in
the offing on account of the lowness of the water
further inshore. The chief imports to Pak-hoï are
cotton and woollen goods, opium and rice, whilst
the exports are sugar, ground-nut oil, aniseed,
betel-vine leaves, and other spices. Lovers of
sport will find plenty of woodcock, partridges,
wild-ducks, and other water-fowl in the neighbourhood
of Pak-hoï. Opposite to the town, in the
south of the bay, is a very celebrated pagoda, one
of the most remarkable in China. From its centre
grows a magnificent plane-tree, in which nest
thousands of sparrows. The branches have forced
their way through the windows of the building,
and the masses of dark green foliage, contrasting
as they do with the stonework, produce a most
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</SPAN></span>
charming and picturesque effect. The bay on
which Pak-hoï is situated is dotted with islands,
and in them many French missionaries have taken
up their abode, adopting the costumes and many
of the customs of the natives, including the wearing
of the pig-tail. One of these devoted soldiers of
the Cross had been an exile from his native land
for nineteen years.</p>
<div class="fig_center" style="width: 389px;"><SPAN name="Fig_37"></SPAN><br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/fig37.png" width-obs="389" height-obs="242" alt="" />
<div class="fig_caption">FIG. 37.—ICHANG.</div>
</div>
<p>Pak-hoï was opened to trade with considerable
ceremony in the presence of the English Consul
and several mandarins of high standing. The
foreign flags were saluted by the Chinese with a
volley from two guns, and the director of the new
Custom House let off a number of crackers amongst
the assembled crowds with a view to warning off
evil spirits, who, in the opinion of the Celestials,
are afraid of them. In spite of the expenditure
of gunpowder, the receipts of the Pak-hoï Customs
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</SPAN></span>
officers have so far remained insignificant, though
there is every probability of a considerable increase
in the near future.</p>
<p>It so happened that when I visited the town the
<i>féte</i> of the New Year was being celebrated, which
prevented my giving as much attention as I might
otherwise have done to the statistics of trade. The
year begins in China fifteen days after the rising
of the February moon, and at this <i>féte</i> the Celestials,
who are generally so devoted to business, throw
aside all occupation and give themselves completely
up to amusement. There is no Sabbath
or weekly day of rest in this land of the yellow
races, which perhaps accounts for the intense zest
with which they enjoy the annual fortnight of
repose.</p>
<div class="sidenote">NEW YEAR'S PRESENTS</div>
<p>On the eve of the holiday the Chinese merchant
puts his business affairs into scrupulous order,
balancing his accounts as he sits at his desk, bending
over his numerous little ledgers, or his calculator
made of tiny balls of ivory, his big spectacles upon
his nose, and a pencil or a reed pen in his hand.
His work done, he locks up his books and hastens
off to don his very best clothes; then holding fast
the indispensable fan, he runs off to the theatres
and the flower-boats, treats his friends and becomes
intoxicated as they do with opium, or with champagne,
to the deafening accompaniment of the
beating of gongs, or the explosion of thousands of
crackers. Or if he is fonder of play than of drinking,
he goes to some sordid gambling-den and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</SPAN></span>
there in a few hours dissipates the results of a whole
year of toil. As in France at the beginning of
a new year many presents are exchanged by the
Celestials, and a well-brought-up Chinaman sends
to each of his friends a little square piece of red
paper on which, side by side with the name of the
donor, is inscribed some wise precept of Confucius.
To the women with whom he is on visiting terms
he will present small lacquer articles, microscopic
shrubs, or quaint representations of fish with red
scales and golden fins. If he is anxious to secure
the patronage of some merchant or trader, he will
send him beautiful fruit, such as Mandarin oranges,
dainty hams, or sugar-candy, according to what he
knows to be the recipient's special weakness.</p>
<div class="fig_center" style="width: 459px;"><SPAN name="Fig_38"></SPAN><br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/fig38.png" width-obs="459" height-obs="302" alt="" />
<div class="fig_caption">FIG. 38.—A CHINESE DYER AT WORK.</div>
</div>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</SPAN></span></p>
<div class="fig_left" style="width: 235px;"><SPAN name="Fig_39"></SPAN><br/>
<ANTIMG src="images/fig39.png" width-obs="235" height-obs="509" alt="" />
<div class="fig_caption">FIG. 39.—A CHINESE VISITING CARD.</div>
</div>
<p>At the <i>féte</i> of the New Year the wives of the
mandarins and other officials exchange visits in
their ornate palanquins, dressed up in their finest
silk dresses, generally
either yellow or blue,
and with their faces
laden with rouge.
Endless is the talk
these decked-out
dames have together,
as they sip their tea
from tiny little cups,
and nibble sweets, or
munch up immense
quantities of dried
and strongly-salted
slices of water-melon.
At these feminine reunions,
too, there is a
good deal of singing,
and the voices are
pitched so high that
a stranger passing by
a house where a concert
was going on
would think a lot of
amorous cats were
yelling on the roof.</p>
<p>None of the lower classes will do any work
on a general holiday, and the coolies, palanquin-bearers,
and boatmen, who have not much money
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</SPAN></span>
to risk, content themselves with playing at the
popular and almost cosmopolitan game of morra
at the street-corners, shouting and laughing over it
with wonderful animation, forty Celestials making
more noise than would five hundred Europeans.
Sometimes the game ends in a quarrel, but even
when he is insulted a Chinaman never fights; his
mode of working off his spleen is quite unlike that
of the corresponding class in the West.</p>
<div class="sidenote">WENCHOW</div>
<p>Wenchow is an important town on the coast of
the fertile and beautifully-wooded province of
Che-kiang, and is about equidistant from Fuchau
and Tsing-Ho. It is the port of embarkation for
great quantities of tea, and considerable trade is
done in it in bamboo, wood, and timber. It is a
bright, clean-looking town, as well kept as any in
the Flowery Land, as Chinese authors love to call
their country, and the streets are said by travellers
to be wider than those of any other city of the
Celestial Empire. There are, moreover, such an
immense number of temples, that inns being scarce,
Europeans often lodge in the sacred buildings, the
natives offering no objection; but it must be
added that in many parts of China, pagodas are
turned to account as caravanserais in which any
one is allowed to sleep and to cook food. In
spite of all the stories told of the bigotry of the
Chinese, and of the awful penalties exacted for
sacrilege, there is really no doubt that taken as
a whole the inhabitants of the Celestial Empire
are really less intolerant than those of Europe, a
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</SPAN></span>
fact which should not be forgotten in passing
judgment upon them. The port of Wenchow has
increased rapidly in prosperity since the Convention
of 1876 threw it open to European trade,
and many foreign vessels are always in the harbour,
discharging their cargoes of various stuffs, or taking
Chinese merchandise on board.</p>
<p>Wu-hu, fifty miles from Nanking, is on the Yang-tse,
and so far has not profited very much by its
new privileges, though it now seems likely to become
a centre of the rice-exporting trade of the
surrounding districts. The story goes that the
first Englishman to settle in Wu-hu wrote to a
fellow-countryman at Shanghai soon after his
arrival, to say he had drunk so much champagne
with the Chinese governor that he was quite unable
to describe his new quarters. He had arrived
in a snow-storm, a happy augury according to the
natives, but far from a pleasant one to a European.
Wu-hu is the residence of a civil magistrate, and
of a <i>tao-tai</i>, whose duties are very much those of
a Prefect in French towns. There are also a
colonel, who has two regiments of soldiers under
him, and two naval officers in the Imperial service.
One of the latter is in command of the fleet
stationed at the mouth of the Yang-tse, the other
looks after the gun-boats which act as the river
police. The town is well built, the chief street is
a league long, well paved and bordered by beautiful
houses, some two storeys high, and all decorated
with red or black lacquer signs on which stand
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</SPAN></span>
out the names in golden letters of the merchants
owning them. When this fine street is lit up by
the oblique rays of the setting sun the effect is
as dazzling as at Canton itself. The climate is
healthy, the people are friendly to foreigners, so
that many causes combine to make Wu-hu a pleasant
place of residence for Europeans. It must,
however, be added that the mandarins and government
officials are alike hostile to missionaries.</p>
<p>On every side of the town, except of course on
that of the river, stretch vast plantations of rice
and corn-fields. A raised causeway crosses these
beautiful and well-kept districts, along which I
went with a fellow-countryman, a French naval
officer, to be present at a noisy demonstration by
the natives in honour of an eclipse of the moon.
On this occasion, however, the satellite of our
earth so much beloved by poets played the
astronomers of Pekin a very scurvy trick.</p>
<div class="sidenote">A FICKLE SATELLITE</div>
<p>The learned members of the Kin-Tien-Kien, or
Imperial astronomers, had with all due solemnity
announced to the Emperor of China, the Son of
Heaven, as well as to all the provincial governors,
that on the 7th February at eight o'clock in the
evening precisely, the dragon who wanders to and
fro in the regions of the air, <i>quærens quem devoret</i>,
will endeavour to swallow the moon. The eclipse
was to be almost total, so the astronomers had
warned the people that the attack of the monster
would be terrible, and that the pale satellite of the
earth would very likely succumb if the shouts and
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</SPAN></span>
the noise of the gongs did not put the dragon to
flight.</p>
<p>Long before the appointed time on the day
when the tragedy was expected to come off,
millions of Chinese issued from all the towns of
the vast Empire to flock out into the open country,
there, nose in air, to watch the wonderful phenomenon
about, as they supposed, to take place.
Those amongst them who had been unable to
get gongs, had provided themselves with saucepans,
rattles, pieces of the hollow stems of the bamboo,
and immense quantities of little red crackers. But,
oh, what a disappointment! Oh, what a fraud!
At eight o'clock the gazing multitudes saw the
moon rise above the horizon in all the untarnished
glory of her full disc, without the slightest sign of
any alteration in her usual appearance. At nine
o'clock she was shining placidly down upon the
watchers, her radiance totally unimpaired. Was
the whole thing a mystification, a fabrication of
the astronomers? But just as all hope was being
regretfully abandoned, a tremendous noise began
on every side, for the watchers saw a change
coming over the face of the planet, which was
assuming a reddish hue like that of blood, whilst
a hideous black spot was slowly advancing across
it. The dragon was beginning his attack.</p>
<p>It is absolutely impossible to describe the rage
with which the Chinese then began to beat their
gongs and saucepans, whirl their rattles, and let
off their crackers. The dragon was evidently
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</SPAN></span>
frightened away by the row, for after an hour of
looking up at the full moon, and seeing nothing
more of the black spot, the crowds, jubilant over
their action, began to disperse, whilst the planet
triumphantly continued her course through space.</p>
<div class="sidenote">HI AND HO BEHEADED</div>
<p>I learnt later that the Emperor sent a message
to his astronomers telling them that next time
they made such a mistake in their calculations he
would relieve them of their appointments and send
them into exile. In the reign of Tchung Kang,
2155 years before the Christian era, his astronomers
named Hi and Ho were beheaded for not having
foreseen an eclipse of the sun. Father Gaubil, in
his interesting <i>History of Chinese Astronomy</i>, explains
the reasons of this very severe punishment
as follows:</p>
<p>"In China an eclipse of the sun or of the moon
is considered of evil augury for the Emperor,
intended to warn him to examine himself and
correct his faults.... Hence an eclipse is always
looked upon as an affair of state in the Celestial
Empire, and the greatest care is taken to calculate
the time when one will take place, as well as to
observe it whilst it is going on with the ceremonies
prescribed on such occasions. Now this time Hi
and Ho had failed altogether to announce the
approaching event, and when the orb of day was
suddenly obscured, the mandarins, not expecting an
eclipse, hastened to the palace in alarmed dismay.
The confusion which ensued of course terrified the
people, who had also been left in ignorance of the
<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</SPAN></span>
approaching phenomenon. The whole course of
the proper proceedings on these occasions is presented
in the ancient book of rites. Directly the
light of the sun begins to grow dim, the chief musician
strikes a drum, and the mandarins are all expected
to hurry at once to the palace armed with bows
and arrows, as if to aid the Emperor, who is supposed
to be the image of the sun. All the officials,
moreover, have to offer their sovereign pieces of
silk. Meanwhile the Emperor and the chief dignitaries
of the court don their simplest garments and
fast. As the astronomers did not give the usual
notice, all these ceremonies, generally so religiously
observed, were neglected, and, although Hi and
Ho were princes as well as men of science, they
had to pay the penalty of their neglect. They
were not at court at the time, but at their country
seats, where, said Rumour, they were conspiring
against their sovereign. They were arrested, and
without any trial the Emperor ordered their heads
to be cut off. Thus dramatically ended an episode
thoroughly characteristic of the Celestial Empire,
where the Son of Heaven has ever been ready to
order those who annoy him on earth to be decapitated,
inquiring into their conduct only when
the proving of their innocence can do them no
good."</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</SPAN></span></p>
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