Empires and Emperors of Russia, China, Korea, and Japan Part 6

It was dawn when I looked out of my carriage window--a dull grey dawn.

The sky was covered with leaden clouds and the rain came down in torrents. The river banks were entirely submerged, and the train stood still in a sea of mud. The scene of general deluge vividly recalled my ideas of the Flood, and it was like stepping out of the ark when I alighted from my carriage. Close by I saw a modest structure, one storey high, more like a peasant's hut than anything else, and I could scarcely believe that this was the station intended for Mukden, the capital of Manchuria. To my consternation I learnt that the train would go no farther that day. It might go on to-morrow or perhaps in a week's time.

There was plenty of time therefore to explore Mukden, although the town was over twenty miles away. But how was I to get there? There was no road to be seen and no vehicle anywhere about. I made inquiries from the station-master, a Russian officer, with a long beard and resplendent with gold lace. He advised me to send my interpreter to one of the neighbouring farms, where I might possibly obtain a Chinese cart, a driver, and a couple of mules, to convey me to Mukden in as short a time as the state of the roads would permit. I followed this advice. The courier wasted the greater part of the day in arguing with the farmers, while I was left in my carriage at the mercy of the hurricane, and occupied the time in writing down my unpleasant impressions, wind and rain supplying the accompaniment of music.

Towards the close of the afternoon my faithful Sancho returned, and pointed to a kind of cabriolet on two wheels with three mules harnessed in tandem fas.h.i.+on, and driven by a crooked little Chinaman. I cannot deny that the effect was extremely picturesque. The car was lacquered yellow, the hood covered with blue; the mules were grey, and the little driver was sheltered by a huge umbrella of gold-coloured oil-cloth. But although picturesque, it was far from comfortable. The vehicle had no springs and no seat; in fact, it consisted simply of a wooden board about two and a half feet square, on which one had to sit cross-legged like a Turk or a tailor. If the occupant happens to be neither the one nor the other, he suffers agonies before five minutes have pa.s.sed. The only attempt at comfort was a small calico rug at the bottom of the cart, but this was a poor protection against the extremely hard wood of Manchuria.

I hesitated a moment before venturing to enter this uncomfortable conveyance, and pictured vividly to myself the horrors of a night's journey in it. But I had promised to visit, if possible, the site of our Mission station, which had been pillaged and burned in the last Boxer insurrection, and which had been the scene of so much n.o.ble martyrdom.

So after all I made up my mind to go.

Little Li-Hu cracked his long whip, which, by the by, looked more like a fis.h.i.+ng rod than a whip. And indeed, I might have amused myself with some angling on the way, for the mules were up to their fetlocks in chocolate-coloured liquid mud.

The first sight which attracted my attention on the road was a one-storeyed building, used as barracks and occupied by Cossacks. I learnt that it served as an encampment for the protection of the railway station.

Then followed a long stretch of road without anything remarkable to be seen.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FROM MUKDEN FLATS ON TO THE TOWN AFTER A WATER-COLOUR DRAWING BY THE AUTHOR "Then followed a long stretch of road without anything remarkable to be seen" To face page 80]

There were fields on both sides of the way, but they could not be seen because all the land was entirely submerged as in Egypt at the rising of the Nile. I presumed that we were on a road, for we advanced between two rows of irregularly planted trees; I also concluded that at one time this road had been paved, perhaps centuries ago, but it was decidedly b.u.mpy now.

These speculations were presently confirmed when we arrived at a bridge delicately arching a creek. It was a very fine structure, carved in Chinese fas.h.i.+on, and of great architectural beauty. I left my carriage to examine it more closely, and when I had sc.r.a.ped off some of the mud with which it was encrusted, I found that it was entirely built of white marble.

After crossing the river the road became still worse. I was jolted up and down, thrown from side to side, my head was knocked against the wooden frame of the hood, and after a mile or so of this torture I could bear it no longer and decided to try the back of one of the mules.

Riding without a saddle on the back of a thin Manchu mule cannot be said to be a comfortable mode of travelling, and my agonies are better imagined than described.

Here was I, in an unknown country, surrounded by a desert which seemed more desolate than ever in its flooded condition, the rain coming down as if all the sluices of heaven had been opened, while the tiny driver at whose mercy I was, might, for all I knew, be a cut-throat.

My vocabulary was as yet limited to two words, _how-di_ and _poo-how_.

Perhaps they are written quite differently, but this is how they sound.

The former stands for everything that is good, pretty, pleasant (I have never had occasion to use it); the other expresses the reverse, and I was quite tired of saying it, because it never proved to be of the slightest effect.

We encountered no one on the road, but pa.s.sed one little vehicle like mine, in which I counted at least ten visible occupants. Four were seated on the shafts, some on the mules, and the others outside on the hood. I could not see how many there were inside. All the outside pa.s.sengers had large umbrellas of oil-cloth, the same as my driver, and they looked like big sunflowers. It was quite cheering to see those people so perfectly happy, laughing and joking under such wretched conditions.

Their stoicism gave me relief, and I shook the water from my dripping clothes and felt a little better too. But as night approached and the desolation became more oppressive, my self-confidence fell from hour to hour. Darkness magnified all the surroundings, and gave them a fantastic aspect. The lights in the distant farm-houses looked like will-o'-the-wisps; the trees became phantoms, and the barking of the dogs sounded like the roar of the dragons, which, as every one knows, are natives of the Yellow Empire. All the fairy stories of my childhood came back to my memory, and a.s.sumed a shape in the reality of my surroundings.

I must add, too, that what I had read lately about Manchuria was not encouraging. The country, I knew, was still in a state of agitation and suppressed revolt. Gangs of bandits traversed the country in all directions, burning farmsteads, pillaging villages, murdering travellers. Skirmishes often took place between them and the Cossacks, and more than once during my journey I heard the firing of shots. The most dreaded of all these ruffians are the Chunchuses; they are formed into more or less organized bodies, like the bandits of ancient Italy, and they possess as much influence as the Mafia of Sicily.

It was getting late and we had travelled for many hours without seeing any trace of houses. I could ask no questions, because I could only say those two words, _poo-how_ and _how-di_. Even if Li-Hu had been of a communicative turn of mind I should not have understood his explanations, so we continued our lugubrious ride in perfect silence, I perched on the back of a mule, with the shafts of the cart for stirrups, while Li-Hu had the carriage all to himself. He wriggled about like a serpent and finally sought consolation for the bitter reality of the present in the happy dreams of the past.

At last the will-o'-the-wisps drew nearer, the phantoms took the form of ordinary trees, and the roars of the dragons resolved themselves into the barking of dogs.

I scarcely dared to believe that I had reached my destination, lest I should be disappointed. Li-Hu was sound asleep, but the mules made straight for a dismal-looking building, and stopped as by instinct in front of a conspicuous signboard. By the same instinct, I suppose, Li-Hu awoke and I asked eagerly, "Mukden? Mukden?" But evidently I was wrong, for he emphatically shook his head.

After a while the innkeeper appeared on the threshold and looked even more forbidding than the house itself, through the open doors of which escaped thick clouds of opium-smoke. I should have preferred to remain on the back of my mule, as there was no possibility of stretching my legs because of the mud, but they were already unharnessing my beast, so I had no choice, and was obliged to enter the house.

The place was lugubrious in the extreme. It looked like a witch's cave, and all things combined to complete this impression. There was the cauldron hanging on a chain over the fire, while enormous logs of wood diffused a sulphurous flame in the light of which the inmates of the place looked truly terrible. At least a dozen men were crouching on the floor, and several others lay asleep on the kang or heated earthen bench which ran all along the dwelling. They were smoking opium in small bronze pipes.

At my entrance most of them roused themselves from their stupor, and their small eyes expressed astonishment, united with curiosity, mistrust, and hatred. I could detect all the hostility of the East against the West in that look. The ill-will of the yellow race towards "the white devils" manifested itself in all its bitterness and force. I must confess that I did not feel quite at my ease in this uncanny company, and it was only the deep interest which I felt in these people, in the den and its surroundings, the novelty of the situation and my pa.s.sionate interest in human nature, which helped me through the ordeal.

What was going to happen? Would they remain pa.s.sive, or were they going to attack me? They were interrogating Li-Hu. It was like a play to watch the proceedings. Without understanding the language, it was easy enough to follow the drift of the argument. "Who is it? Where is he going? What has he got?"

From the expression of Li-Hu's face and his hesitation in answering, I gathered that the information he had to give concerning his charge was not satisfactory, but I also noted with interest how cleverly he concocted a story to his own advantage. Evidently the shrewd Chinaman had in his mind two strong points in my favour. In the first place I had not yet paid him, and in the second place I had been entrusted to his care by the station-master, by whom he was known. I also detected that he did not want to rouse the animosity of the other men, consequently he never mentioned my private car, probably also by the advice of the station-master, and from the expression of his face and the manner in which he turned out his pockets, he was clearly representing me as a poor missionary who was going to Mukden to fetch his pay at the bank, and whom it would not be worth while to kidnap on his way there.

The minutes dragged on like so many hours; the night seemed endless.

Finally, to pa.s.s the time, I began to draw with some coloured chalks.

Would that interest them? I wondered. I could not be sure at first, but the ruffians slowly gathered round me and I never had more complacent spectators. Those men who, a few minutes ago, would have taken my life, or at least my purse, suddenly became quite friendly. Like the lyre of Orpheus, my pictures did wonders, soothing the savage instincts and softening the pa.s.sions of these brigands. It was the greatest triumph my modest crayons ever won for me.

At last there was a general stir. Li-Hu prepared his cart, and we started once more. It was still dark, but the rain had ceased and the cold rays of the moon from time to time broke through the parting clouds. By means of these occasional flashes of light I discerned in the distance, silhouetted against the horizon, the dark outlines of a paG.o.da. Surely that was the point we were making for. We had long since left the so-called main road, and were jolting and jerking along by fields of turnips and Indian corn. The shocks were perhaps not quite so rough as before, on the half-paved highroad, but their violence was yet amazing.

It was daybreak when we arrived before the princ.i.p.al gate of Mukden, and after the night of darkness and peril the glories of the city seemed enhanced. The sky was cloudless and intensely blue, as if enamelled in cobalt on a golden ground. The richly sculptured fronts of the houses shone with truly Oriental splendour. It was the early hour of the morn.

People poured out of the city gates to start their daily tasks in the fields and farms. Every one wore bright-coloured garments, and looked happy and cheerful. Everything breathed contentment: the effect was charming. It was the victory of light over darkness.

The sun, like a great magician, had waved his wand, touched and dispersed clouds and gloom, and thrown, so it would seem, a veil of oblivion over the sadness and misery of the past night, to give courage and hope to begin another day.

IV

THE CAPITAL OF MANCHURIA

My surprise on first beholding the famous city of Mukden was as complete as it was agreeable. The scene before me was simply delightful. At first I could not distinguish anything clearly, neither lines nor forms. I was dazzled by the intensity of colour and light.

The facade of every house was ornamented with strange carvings and mouldings; never before had I seen such fantastic prodigality of human imagination. All the lines curve upward, and every house resembles a paG.o.da on a small scale. So many motives, so many different colours; red, yellow, green, blue, in endless profusion, the effect being increased by rich gilding.

In front of the houses are shops or booths, where are exposed--generally in the open--goods and merchandise of all kinds, arranged in fanciful pyramids in accordance with Oriental caprice. Embroideries, rich silks, artificial flowers, fans, and umbrellas, anything, in fact, to tempt the local taste or satisfy the daily demands. The displays of porcelain are particularly attractive, also the shows of silver and bra.s.s ware. Most fascinating are the stalls of the bric-a-brac dealers with their fine lacquer-work, fluted vases of priceless value, old porcelains, cloisonne boxes, and artistically designed snuff-bottles.[B]

[B] The Chinese do not use boxes, but snuff-bottles of great value.

Before every booth a tall mast or pole is dressed, from which floats a flag as signboard, and both are elaborately inscribed with advertis.e.m.e.nts of wares sold inside the shop. The bootmakers' insignia are particularly artistic and only surpa.s.sed in splendour by the rich festoons of gold which mark the p.a.w.nbrokers' shops. The main thoroughfare, with its endless variety of cabalistic design and rich colouring, is like an Oriental bazaar or the gorgeous scenery of a theatre. But what struck me most was the enormous vitality and activity of this marvellous city.

It was like watching an ants' nest to see this surging tide of human beings incessantly flooding the squares and streets. Men and women, young and old, of all ranks and all nationalities, push and press past one another. Some are carried in beautiful chairs, others content themselves with a modest kind of wheelbarrow, in which six or seven persons can be accommodated on a narrow board, and which is pushed along by a famished-looking coolie. These wheelbarrows answer the purpose of omnibuses in the Manchu capital, and they take a person from one end of the city to the other for about a quarter of a halfpenny. "Rickshaws"

have recently come into fas.h.i.+on; they are a great improvement on the old means of conveyance, for instead of being pushed they are pulled along.

All true Manchus, however, prefer riding on horseback to any other mode of locomotion.

Whatever room is left in the street is taken up by pedestrians, labourers carrying enormous loads, and coolies going about their daily business. It is an impressive sight, and once more I came to the conclusion that the intrinsic character of a place is not expressed in the arrangement of its streets, or in the height and style of its buildings, but in the general manifestation of its activity.

While the eye takes in all these various details, the ear need not be idle. The air is full of sound. Strains of music proceeding from the tea-houses, costermongers' cries, shrieks of quarrelsome children, and high-pitched voices in admonition; shouting and noise of all sorts and in endless variety are heard.

At every step there is a fresh surprise. Fortunately, so far, no guide-books have been written to describe the attractions of the Manchu capital, and no c.u.mbersome descriptions spoil the effect of its genuine charms.

To form an idea of the plan of the city, imagine an oblong chess-board.

Like all Chinese towns, it is regular in the princ.i.p.al lines. There are two main streets in the form of a cross, intersected by innumerable narrow lanes, and in the middle of the town, where the two chief thoroughfares cross, stands a high tower from the top of which a drum and a gong announce the beginning and the close of the day. Also from this high vantage ground the alarm is given in case of danger, and a detachment of soldiers, stationed in a sort of pigeon-holes, spend the hours of their watch in peaceful slumber.

It would be difficult to enumerate all the places of interest which Mukden contains, for everything is interesting to the Western mind, even to the smallest cottage with its curiously shaped roof and quaint style.

And the interest lies not only in their material conception or in their exterior, but also in their inner qualities, and especially in the fact that they give expression to the mental and artistic ideas of the nation. As has already been said, it is at first the general effect, the picturesqueness, and the novelty, which strike one as so charming. Some of the houses are very dilapidated, the walls lean over, and the roofs are covered with a tangled growth of moss and gra.s.s. But all this makes them the more attractive from an artistic point of view.

Among the most interesting public edifices are the yamens belonging to the Government, and occupied by the Governor and some others of the mandarins of high degree; one or two Lama monasteries; the large buildings where the Russian Consul and the Commander-in-Chief reside; and last, but not least, the building occupied by the famous Russo-Chinese Bank and its agents.