Some of these flowers are exquisite. The Chinese are expert at making artificial flowers which are true to nature in every detail. Often above the flower a beautiful butterfly is poised on a delicate spring, and looks so natural that it is easy to be deceived into believing it to be alive. When the jasmine is in bloom beautiful creations are made of these tiny flowers by means of standards from which protrude fine wires on which the flowers are strung in the shape of butterflies or other symbols, and the flowers massed in this way make a very effective ornament. With the exception of the jasmine the flowers used in the hair are all artificial, though natural flowers are worn in season—roses in summer, orchids in late summer, and chrysanthemums in autumn.

The prevailing idea with the Chinese ladies is that the foreign woman does not comb her hair. I have often heard my friends apologizing to ladies whom they have brought to see me for the first time, and on whom they wanted me to make a good impression, by saying:

"You must not mind her hair; she is really so busy she has no time to comb it. All her time is spent in acts of benevolence."

At the first audience when the Empress Dowager received the foreign ladies, she presented each of them with two boxes of combs, one ivory inlaid with gold, the other ordinary hard wood, and the set was complete even to the fine comb. One cannot but wonder if Her Majesty had not heard of the untidy locks of the foreign woman, which she attributed to a lack of proper combs.

After the hair has been properly combed and ornamented, cosmetics of white and carmine are brought for the face and neck. The Manchu lady uses these in great profusion, her Chinese sister more sparingly. No Chinese lady, unless a widow or a woman past sixty, is supposed to appear in the presence of her family without a full coating of powder and paint. A lady one day complained to me of difficulty in lifting her eyelids, and consulted me as to the reason.

"Perhaps," said I, "they are partially paralyzed by the lead in your cosmetics. Wash off the paint and see if the nerves do not recover their tone."

"But," said she, "I would not dare appear in the presence of my husband or family without paint and powder; it would not be respectable."

The final touch to the face is the deep carmine spot on the lower lip.

The robing then begins. And what beautiful robes they are! the softest silks, over which are worn in summer the most delicate of embroidered grenadines, or in winter, rich satins lined with costly furs, each season calling for a certain number and kind. She then decorates herself with her jewels,—earrings, bracelets, beads, rings, charms, embroidered bags holding the betel-nut, and the tiny mirror in its embroidered case with silk tassels. When these are hung on the buttons of her dress her outfit is complete, and she arises from her couch a wonderful creation, from her glossy head, with every hair in place, to the toe of her tiny embroidered slipper. But it has taken the time of a half-dozen servants for three hours to get these results.

To one accustomed to the Chinese or Manchu mode of dress, she appears very beautiful. The rich array of colours, the embroidered gowns, and the bright head-dress, make a striking picture. Often as the ladies of a home or palace came out on the veranda to greet me, or bid me adieu, I have been impressed with their wonderful beauty, to which our own dull colours, and cloth goods, suffer greatly in comparison, and I could not blame these good ladies for looking upon our toilets with more or less disdain.

It is now after eleven o'clock and her breakfast is ready to be served in another room. Word that the leading lady of the household is about to appear is sent to the other apartments. Hurried finishing touches are given to toilets, for all daughters, daughters-in-law and grandchildren must be ready to receive her in the outer room when she appears leaning on the arms of two eunuchs if she is a princess, or on two stout serving women if a Chinese.

According to her rank, each one in turn takes a step towards her and gives a low courtesy in which the left knee touches the floor. Even the children go through this same formality. All are gaily dressed, with hair bedecked and faces painted like her own. She inclines her head but slightly. These are the members of her household over whom she has sway—her little realm. While her mother-in-law lived she was under the same rigorous rule.

In China where there are so many women in the home it is necessary to have a head—one who without dispute rules with autocratic sway. This is the mother-in-law. When she dies the first wife takes her place as head of the family. A concubine may be the favourite of the husband. He may give her fine apartments to live in, many servants to wait on her, and every luxury he can afford; but there his power ends. The first wife is head of the household, is legally mother of all the children born to any or all of the concubines her husband possesses. The children all call her mother, and the inferior wives recognize her as their mistress. She and her daughters, and daughters-in-law, attend social functions, receive friends, extend hospitality; but the concubines have no place in this, unless by her permission. When the time comes for selecting wives for her sons, it is the first wife who does it, although she may be childless herself. It is to her the brides of these sons are brought, and to her all deference is due. In rare cases, where the concubine has had the good fortune to supply the heir to the throne or to a princely family, she is raised to the position of empress or princess. But this is seldom done, and is usually remembered against the woman. She is never received with the same feeling as if she had been first wife.

One day I was asked to go to a palace to see a concubine who was ill. In such cases I always went directly to the Princess, and she took me to see the sick one. As we entered the room there was a nurse standing with a child in her arms, and the Princess called my attention to a blemish on its face.

"Can it be removed?" she asked.

I looked at it and, seeing that it would require but a minor operation, told her it could.

While attending to the patient, the nurse, fearing that the child would be hurt, left the room and another entered with another child.

"Now," said the Princess when we had finished with the patient, "we will attend to the child." And she called the woman to her.

"But," said the woman, "this is not the child."

"There," said the Princess, "you see I do not know my own children."

But I left our friend receiving the morning salutations of her household. These over, she dismisses them to their own apartments, where each mother sits down with her own children to her morning meal, waited on by her own servants. If there are still unmarried daughters, they remain with their mother; if none, she eats alone.

Since Peking is in the same latitude as Philadelphia my lady has the same kinds of fruit—apples, peaches, pears, apricots, the most delicious grapes, and persimmons as large as the biggest tomato you ever saw; indeed, the Chinese call the tomato the western red persimmon. She has mutton from the Mongolian sheep (the finest I have ever eaten), beef, pork or lamb; chicken, goose or duck; hare, pheasant or deer, or fish of whatever kind she may choose. Of course these are all prepared after the Chinese style, and be it said to the credit of their cooks that our children are always ready to leave our own table to partake of Chinese food.

After her meal she lingers for a few minutes over her cup of tea and her pipe. In the meantime her cart or sedan chair is prepared. Her outriders are ready with their horses; the eunuchs, women and slave girls who are to attend her, don their proper clothing and prepare the changes of raiment needed for the various functions of the day. One takes a basin and towels, another powder and rouge-boxes, another the pipe and embroidered tobacco pouch, not even forgetting the silver cuspidor, all of which will be needed. When she eats, a servant gives her a napkin to spread over her gown; after she has finished, another brings a basin of hot water, from which a towel is wrung with which she gently wipes her mouth and hands. Another brings her a glass of water, or she washes out her mouth with tea, and finally with the little mirror and rouge-box, while she still sits at table, she touches up her face with powder and she puts the paint upon her lip if it has disappeared.

When ready to start, her cart or chair is drawn up as close as possible to the gate of the women's apartments. A screen of blue silk eighteen or twenty feet long and six feet high, fastened to two wooden standards, is held by eunuchs to screen her while she enters the cart. The chair can be used only by princesses or wives of viceroys or members of the Grand Council. But whether chair or cart it is lined and cushioned with scarlet satin in summer, and in winter with fur. It is an accomplishment to enter a cart gracefully, but years of practice enable her to do so, and as soon as she is seated in Buddhist fashion, the curtain is dropped; her attendant seats herself cross-legged in front; several male servants rush up, seize the shafts of the cart, place the mule between them, fasten the buckles (it reminds one of the fire department), the driver takes his place at the lines, two other male servants take hold of the sides of the mule's bridle, and all is in readiness to start. Female servants and slave girls crowd into other carts, outriders mount their mules, and the cavalcade starts with my lady's cart ahead.

As they pass along the streets they are remarked upon by all foot-passengers, and as they near their destination, a courier on horseback spurs up his steed, makes a wild dash forward, leaps from his horse, and announces to the gate-keeper that the Princess will soon arrive. The news is at once taken to the servants of the women's apartments, where the name is given to a eunuch, who bears it to his mistress.

In the meantime the party has arrived. The mule is unhitched, cart drawn to the gate, screen spread, servant descends from front, and the Princess with the help of a couple of eunuchs is escorted through a long covered walk into the court, where the ladies of the household are waiting on the veranda to receive her. As she enters the gateway the hostess begins slowly to descend the steps. The others follow, and they meet in the centre of the court. Low courtesies are made by each and formal inquiries as to each other's health. There is a short stop and certain formalities before the guest will ascend the steps ahead of the hostess. The same occurs again on entering the reception hall, and taking the seat of honour. The luckless foreigner sometimes makes the mistake of conceding to her guest's modesty and allows her to take a lower seat, which is a grievous offense, and she is only pardoned on the plea that she is an outside barbarian, and does not understand the rules of polite society.

After she is seated tea is served, and servants bring in trays of sweetmeats, fruit, nuts, dried melon seeds, candied fruits and small cakes. One of these nuts is unique. It is an "English walnut" in which, after the outer hull is removed, the shell is self-cracked, and folds back in places so that the kernel appears. While partaking of these delicacies the object of the visit is announced, which is that her son is to be married on a certain date. Of course official announcements will be sent later, but she wishes to ask if her hostess will act as one of her representatives to carry the ju yi to the young lady's home.

After the ladies have chatted for a time about the latest official appointments, some court gossip, the latest fashion in robe ornamentation, and the newspaper news at home and abroad—for the Chinese have ten or a dozen newspapers in Peking, among which is the first woman's daily in the world—the hostess invites her guest to see her garden. They pass through a gateway into a court in which are great trees, shrubbery, fish-ponds spanned by marble bridges, covered walks, beautiful rockeries, wisteria vines laden with long clusters of blossoms, summer-houses, miniature mountains, and flowers of all kinds—a dream of beauty and loveliness. After returning to the house another cup of tea is served, and the guest rises to leave. But before doing so her servants bring in a bundle of clothing, and there in the presence of her hostess her outer robes are changed for others of a more official character.

Her next call is at the birthday celebration of the mother of one of the highest officials in the capital. I was present when she arrived. Instead of entering by the front gate, she went by a private entrance directly to the apartments of her hostess. Many guests (all gentlemen) were assembled in the front court, which was covered by a mat pavilion and converted into a theatre. The court was several feet lower than the adjoining house, the front windows of which were all removed and it was used for the accommodation of the lady guests. On the walls of the temporary structure hung red satin and silk banners on which were pinned ideographs cut out of gold foil or black velvet, expressive of beautiful sentiments and good wishes for many happy returns of the day. The Emperor, wishing to do this official honour, has informed him that on his mother's birthday an imperial present will be sent her which is a greater compliment than if sent to the official himself.

It was a gala scene. Fresh guests arrived every minute. The ladies in their most graceful and dignified courtesies were constantly bending as other guests were announced, while the gentlemen, with low bows and each shaking his own hands, received their friends. The clothes of the men, though of a more sombre hue, were richer in texture than those of the women. Heavy silks and satins, embroidered with dragons in gold thread, indicated that this one was a member of the imperial clan, while others equally rich were worn by the other gentlemen, each embroidered with the insignia of his rank. Hats adorned with red tassels, peacock feathers in jade holders, and the button denoting the rank of the wearer, were worn by all, as it would be a breach of etiquette to remove the hat in the presence of one's host.

It would also be bad form for the gentlemen to raise their eyes to where the ladies were seated; just as the latter, who must look over the heads of the men to view the theatre, would not be caught allowing their eyes to dwell upon any one. But no doubt these gentle little ladies have their own curiosity, and some means of finding out who's who among that court full of dragon-draped pillars of state; for I have never failed to receive a ready answer when I inquired as to the name of some handsome or distinguished-looking guest whose identity I wished to learn.

The theatre goes on interminably. Like my lady, they change their clothes, and the scenery, in full view of the audience. The plays are mostly historical, the women's parts being taken by men, as women are not allowed to go on the stage. One daring company, in imitation of the foreign custom, had a woman take one of the parts; but a special order from the viceroy put the company out of commission, and the leader in prison.

The guests were not expected to sit quietly watching the play, but moved about greeting each other and chatting at will. Servants brought tea and sweetmeats and finally a banquet was served. Near the close of the feast it was announced that the imperial present was coming, and the members of the household disappeared. The deep boom of the drums and the honk of the great horns were heard distinctly as they entered the street, and soon the yellow imperial chair, with its thirty-six bearers in the royal livery, moved slowly towards us between two rows of the male members of the household who had gone out and were kneeling on both sides of the street, knocking their heads as the chair passed them. The great gates were thrown open and there in the gateway the female members of the family knelt and kotowed as the chair passed by.

The presents were taken into a room specially prepared for their reception. The head imperial eunuch placed them in position, and, with a low obeisance, departed, the richer by several hundred ounces of silver. The gentlemen guests were first invited to view these tokens of imperial favour. In order of their rank they entered, prostrating themselves before them. Later we ladies were invited into the room, where the Chinese all kotowed. What now were these wonderful gifts before which these men and women of rank and noble birth were falling upon their faces?

They were two squares of red paper, eighteen inches across, printed in outline of the imperial dragon, on which the characters for long life and happiness were written with the imperial pen; and a small yellow satin box in which sat a little gold Buddha not more than an inch in height! It was the thought, not the value, which elicited all this appreciation.

Shall we go with this busy little princess to another festal occasion? I was with her again. It was at the home of the sister of one of the sweetest little princesses in the whole empire. Her baby was a month old and she was celebrating what they call the full month feast. Instead, however, of having the usual feasting and theatricals, the mother, who, for days after her child was born, lay at death's door, sent out invitations to her friends to come and fast and give thanks to the gods for sparing her life.

Though the child was a month old the mother was too wan and weak to leave her couch. She was dressed, however, in festal robes, and received her guests with many gracious words and apologies. Of course only ladies were present. The great covered court was converted into a large shrine. One could imagine they were looking into the main hall of a temple, only that everything was so clean and beautiful. From the centre of the shrine a Goddess of Mercy looked down complacently upon the array of fruit, nuts, sweetmeats and cakes spread out before her. Many candles in their tall candlesticks were burning on every side. Before her was a great bronze incense-burner, from which many sticks of incense sent out their fragrant odour on the air. As each guest passed through the court, she took a stick from the pile, lit it, and, with a word of prayer, added it to the number.

After the guests had all arrived a princess—sister of the hostess—accompanied by two of the leading guests, descended into the paved court and took her place before the altar. Deep-toned bells were touched by small boys whose shaven heads and priestly robes denoted that they, like little Samuel, were being brought up within the courts of the temple. The Princess took a great bunch of incense in her two hands, one of her attendants lit it with a torch prepared for that purpose, the flame and smoke ascended amid the deep tones of the bells, as she prostrated herself before the goddess. She looked like a beautiful fairy herself as she stood with the flaming bunch of incense held high above her head. Three times she prostrated herself and nine times she bent forward, fulfilling all the requirements of the law.

At the close of this ceremony the ladies were invited to partake of a feast prepared wholly of vegetables and vegetable oils. It requires much more skill to prepare such a feast than when meat and animal oils are used. The food furnished interesting topics for discussion. Most of it was prepared by various temples, each being celebrated for some particular dish, which it was asked to provide for the occasion.

It is not uncommon for a Chinese lady to take upon herself a vow in which she promises the gods to observe certain days of each month as fast days, on condition that they restore to health a mother, father, husband or child. No matter what banquet she attends she need only mention to her hostess that she has a vow and she is made the chief guest, helping others but eating nothing herself. After this full month feast the baby was seen, its presents admired, the last cup of tea drunk, the farewells said, and we all returned home.

[3] The remainder of the chapter is from Mrs. Headland's note-book.



XVII

The Chinese Ladies—Their Ills

My home is girdled by a limpid stream, And there in summer days life's movements pause, Save where some swallow flits from beam to beam, And the wild sea-gull near and nearer draws.

The good wife rules a paper board for chess; The children beat a fish-hook out of wire; My ailments call for physic more or less, What else should this poor frame of mine require? —"Tu Fu," Translated.



XVII

THE CHINESE LADIES—THEIR ILLS[4]

[4] Taken from Mrs. Headland's note-book.

One day a eunuch dashed into the back gate of our compound in Peking, rode up to the door of the library, dismounted from his horse, and handed a letter in a red envelope to the house servant who met him on the steps.

"What is the matter?" asked the boy.

"The Princess is ill," replied the servant.

"What Princess?" further inquired the boy.

"Our Princess," was the reply.

"Oh, you are from the palace near the west gate?"

"Yes," and the boy and the servant continued their conversation until the former had learned all that the letter contained, whereupon he brought me the message.

I opened the letter, written in the Chinese ideographs, and called the messenger in.

"Is the Princess very ill?" I inquired.

"Not very," he answered, "but she has been indisposed for several days."

"When does she want me to go?" I inquired, for I had long ago learned that a few inquiries often brought out interesting and valuable information.

"At once," he answered; "the cart will be here in a few minutes."

By the time I had made ready my medical outfit the cart had arrived. It was very much like a great Saratoga trunk on two wheels. It was without seat and without springs, but filled with thick cushions, and as I had learned to sit tailor fashion it was not entirely uncomfortable to ride in. It had gauze curtains in summer, and was lined with quilted silk or fur in winter, and was a comfortable conveyance.

When I reached the palace I was met by the head eunuch, who conducted me at once to the apartments of the Princess. Her reception room was handsomely furnished with rich, carved, teak-wood furniture after the Manchu fashion, with one or two large, comfortable, leather-covered easy chairs of foreign make. Clocks sat upon the tables and window-sills, and fine Swiss watches hung on the walls. Beautiful jade and other rich Chinese ornaments were arranged in a tasteful way about the room. On the wall hung a picture painted by the Empress Dowager, a gift to the Prince on his birthday.

After a moment's waiting the Princess appeared attended by her women and slave girls.

"I beg your pardon for not having my hair properly dressed," she said, as she took my hands in hers, the custom of these Manchu princesses and even the Empress Dowager herself, in greeting foreign ladies. "I welcome you back to Peking after your summer vacation."

When the usual salutations had been passed she told me her trouble and I gave her the proper medicine, with minute instructions as to how to take it, which I also repeated to her women.

"The cause of my illness," she explained, "is over-fatigue. I had to be present at court on the eighth of the eighth month and I became very tired from standing all day."

"But could you not sit down?" I asked.

"Not in the presence of the Empress Dowager," she replied.

"Of course, I know you could not sit down in the presence of Her Majesty, but could you not withdraw and rest a while?" I inquired.

"Not that day. It was a busy and tiresome day for us all," she replied.

While we were talking the young Princess, her son's wife, came in and greeted her mother-in-law in a formal but kindly way, and gave her hands to me just as the Princess had done. She remained standing all the time she was in the room, as did four of the secondary princesses or wives of her husband. They were all beautifully dressed, but they are beneath the Princess in rank, and so must stand in her presence. If the Prince's mother had come in, as she often did when I was there, the Princess would have to stand and wait on her. All Manchu families are very particular in this respect.

"You will be interested," said the Princess, "in one phase of our visit to the palace." Then turning to one of her women she said: "Bring me those two pairs of shoes."

"These," she explained, "are like some made by my mother-in-law and myself as presents for the Empress Dowager. On the eighth of the eighth month we have a feast, when the ladies of the royal household are invited into the palace, and our custom is for each of us to present Her Majesty with a pair of shoes."

The shoes were daintily embroidered, though not so pretty as some I have seen the Empress Dowager wear. Some of her shoes are decorated with beautiful pearls and others are covered with precious stones.

"The Empress Dowager," continued the Princess, "is very vain of her small feet; though," she continued, as she put her own foot out, encased in the daintiest little embroidered slipper of light-blue satin, "it is not so small as my own."

It seemed very human to hear this delicate little Princess make a remark of this kind. Of course, both she and the Empress Dowager have natural feet.

It was late in the afternoon, some months after my visit to the Princess, that a very different call came for my services.

The boy came in and told me that a man wanted me to go to see his wife, who lived in the southern city outside the Ha-ta gate. It has always been my custom never to refuse any one whether they be rich or poor, and so I told him to call a cart.

It was in midwinter and a bitter cold night, the room was without fire and yet there was a child of three or four toddling about upon the kang or brick bed whose only garment was a long coat.

"You should put a pair of trousers on that child," I said, "or it will catch cold and I will soon have to come again."

"Yes," they said, "we will put trousers on it."

"You had better do it at once," I insisted.

"Yes," they continued, "we will see that it is dressed."

After attending to the woman, and again urging them to dress the child, I wrapped my warm cloak around me and started home, though I could not forget the child.

"It is a cold night," I said to the driver as we started on our way.

"Yes," he answered, "there will be some uncomfortable people in the city to-night."

"In that house we just left," I continued, for I could not banish the child from my thoughts, "there was a little child playing on the bed without a shred of trousers on."

"Quite right," said he; "they pawned the trousers of that child to get money to pay me for taking you to see the sick woman."

"To pay you!" said I, with indignation, and yet with admiration for the character of the people for whom I was giving my services—"to pay you! Then drive right back and give them their money and tell them to go and redeem those trousers and put them on the child!"

"The city gate will be closed before we can reach it if I return," said he, "and we will not be able to get in to-night."

"No matter about that," I insisted, "go back and give them the money."

He turned around with many mutterings, lashed up his mule at the top of his speed, gave them the money, and then started on a gallop for the city gate. It was a rough ride in that springless cart over the rutty roads. But my house seemed warmer that night and my bed seemed softer after I had paid the carter myself.

Among my friends and patients none are more interesting than the Misses Hsu. They are very intelligent, and after I had become well acquainted with them I said to them one day:

"How is it that you have done such wide reading?"

"You know, of course," they said, "that our father is a chuang yuan."

I asked them the meaning of a chuang yuan. Then I learned that under the Chinese system a great many students enter the examinations, and those who secure their degree are called hsiu tsai; a year or two later these are examined again, and those who pass are given the degree of chu jen; once more these latter are examined and the successful candidates are called chin shih, and are then ready for official position. They continue to study, however, and are allowed to go into the palace, where they are examined in the presence of the Emperor, and those who pass are called han lin, or forest of pencils. Once in three years these han lins are examined and one is allowed to obtain a degree—he is a chuang yuan.

Out of four hundred million people but one is allowed this degree once in three years.

"Your father must be a very great scholar," I remarked.

"He has always been a diligent student," they answered, modestly.

"What is his given name?" I inquired, one day.

"If you will give me a pencil I will write it for you; we never speak the given name of our father in China," said the eldest, and she wrote it down.

"How many sisters are there in your family—eight, are there not?"

"Yes. You know, of course, that number five was engaged when a child of six to the son of Li Hung-chang."

"No, I was not aware of the fact; and were they married?"

"No, they were never married. The young man died before they were old enough to wed. When word of his death was brought to her, child that she was, she went to our mother and told her she must never engage her to any one else, as she meant to live and die the widow of this boy."

"And did she go to Li Hung-chang's home?"

"No, the old Viceroy wanted to take her to his home, build a suite of rooms for her, and treat her as his daughter-in-law, but our parents objected because she was so young. The Viceroy loved her very much, and his eyes often filled with tears as he spoke of her and the son who had passed away. When the Viceroy died she wanted to go and kotow at his funeral, and all his family except the eldest son were anxious to have her do so, and thus be recognized as one of the family. But this son objected, and though Lady Li knocked her head on the coffin until it bled he would not yield, lest she might want her portion."

"And what has become of your sister? How is it that I have never seen her?"

"She withdrew to a small court, where she has lived with none but her women servants, not even seeing our father or brothers, and not allowing a male servant to go near her. And she will not permit the word Li to be spoken in her presence."

"And what does she do?" I asked. "How does she employ herself?"

"Studying, reading, painting, and embroidery. When young Li refused to allow her to attend his father's funeral her sense of self-respect was outraged and she cut off her hair and threatened to commit suicide. She often fasts for a week, and has tried on several occasions to take her own life."

I asked them if they did not fear that she might succeed finally in this attempt to kill herself.

"Yes, we have constant apprehensions. But then, what if she did? It would only emphasize her virtue."

It was some months after the young ladies told me what I have just related that they called, for they had taken up the study of English and I had agreed to help them a bit.

"How is your sister?" I inquired, for the sad fate of this young girl weighed like a burden on my heart.

"She fasted more than usual during the early summer, but she bathed daily and changed her clothes, dressing herself in her most beautiful garments. She had not been sleeping well for some time, and one day she ordered her women to leave her and not return until they were called. They remained away until a married sister and a sister-in-law-a niece of Li Hung-chang—called and wanted to see her. We went to her room but found it locked. We knocked but received no answer. We finally punched a hole through the paper window and saw her sitting on her brick bed, her head bolstered up with cushions and her eyes closed. We supposed she was sleeping, but on forcing open the door we found that she had gone to join her boy husband, though her colour and appearance was that of a living person."

"And are you sure she had not swooned?"

"She remained in this condition for twenty-two hours without pulse or heart beat, and so we put her in her casket."

I could not but feel sad that I had not been in the city, and had had an opportunity to help them to ascertain whether her life had really gone out. But the girls seemed proud of the distinction of having had a sister of such consummate virtue. Numerous embroidered scrolls and laudatory inscriptions were sent her from friends of the Li family as well as of their own, and it is expected that the throne will order a memorial arch erected to her memory.

On another occasion I was requested to go to the palace of one of the princes. The fourth Princess, a beautiful little child of five, was ill with diphtheria, and the first greeting of the mother as I went in was that she "was homesick to see me." The child had been ill for several days before they sent for me, and I told them at once that the case was dangerous. I wanted to do all I could for them and at the same time protect my own children from the danger of infection. After the first treatment with antitoxin she seemed to rally, her throat cleared up, but I soon found that the poison had pervaded her entire system, and so I stayed with her day and night.

I found that the child had contracted the disease from another about her own age, who was both her playmate and her slave. It is the custom among the wealthy to purchase for each daughter a companion who plays with her as a child, becomes a companion in youth and her maid when she marries. These slaves are usually treated well, and when this one became ill the members of the family visited her often, taking her such dainties as might tempt her appetite. As a result I had to administer antitoxin to eight of the younger members of the household, so careless had they been about the spread of this disease; indeed I have found that the isolation of patients suffering from contagious diseases is wholly unknown in China.

One of the most attractive of all my Chinese lady friends and patients is the niece of the great Viceroy, Li Hung-chang, the daughter of his brother, Li Han-chang, who is himself a viceroy. I have been her physician for eighteen years or more and hence have become intimately acquainted with her. She has visited me very often in my home and, of all the women I have ever known, of any race or people, I have never met one whom I thought more cultured or refined than she. This may seem a strange statement, but the quiet dignity that she manifested on all occasions and her charming manners are not often met with. I have never felt on entering a drawing-room such an atmosphere of refinement as seemed to surround her.

That the Chinese take very kindly to foreign medicine there is no doubt, though it is sometimes amusing how they go back to their own native methods.

One day my husband brought home a physiological chart about the size of an ordinary man. It was covered with black spots and I asked him the reason for them.

"That is what I asked the dealer from whom I bought it," he replied, "and he told me that those spots indicate where the needle can be inserted in treatment by acupuncture without killing the patient."

When a Chinese is ill the doctor generally concludes that the only way to cure him is to stick a long needle into him and let out the pain or set up counter irritation. If the patient dies it is evident he stuck the needle into the wrong spot. And this chart has been made up from millions of experiments during the past two or three thousand years from patients who have died or recovered.

This was practically illustrated by a woman who was brought to the hospital. Having had pain in the knee she sent for a Chinese physician who concluded that the only method of relieving her was by acupuncture. He therefore inserted a needle which unfortunately pierced the synovial sac causing inflammation which finally resulted in complete destruction of the joint. Such cases are not infrequent both among adults and children in all grades of society, due to this method of treatment.

One day I was called to see a lady who was in immediate need of surgical treatment. She had three sons who were in high official positions in the palace, and if their mother died they would have to withdraw from official life and go into mourning for three years. When men are thus compelled to resign the new incumbent is not inclined to restore the office when the period of mourning is over. They were therefore doubly anxious to have their mother recover. They had tried all kinds of Chinese physicians and finally sent for me.

I explained the nature of the operation necessary, and gave them every reason to hope for a speedy recovery, while without surgical treatment she must surely die. They consented and the operation was successful. She recovered rapidly for a few days until I regarded her as practically out of danger. But one day when I called I found her bathed in perspiration, shaking with fear, weeping and depressed. Her wound was in an excellent condition and I could find no reason for her despondency. I cheered her up, laughed and talked with her, gave her such articles of diet as she craved, and left her happy. The next day I again found her in the same nervous condition.

"Something is wrong with your mother of which you have not told me," I said to her son.

"Before we sent for you," he said, "we had called a spirit doctor, who went into a sort of trance, claimed to have descended into the spirit world where he saw them making a coffin which he said my mother would occupy before the fifteenth of the month. It is because that time is approaching that she is filled with fear."

I talked with the lady, showed her how her wound was healing, encouraged her to rest easy until the fifteenth, when I would spend the day with her, after which she immediately began gaining strength and soon recovered.

At another time I was called to see the wife of the president of the Board of Punishments. I found an operation necessary. The next day I found the patient delirious with a fever, and asked the husband if my directions had been followed.

"I assure you they have," he answered. "But the cause of the fever is this: Last evening while the servants were taking their meal she was left alone for a short time. While they were absent, her sister who lived on this street, a short distance from here, committed suicide. When the servant discovered it she ran directly to my wife's room, and told her of the tragedy. My wife began to tremble, had a severe chill, and soon became delirious. I suspect that her sister's spirit accompanied the servant and entered my wife."

In spite of this explanation I cleaned and dressed the wound and left her more comfortable. The next morning she was somewhat better, without fever and in her right mind.

"What kind of a night did she have?" I asked her husband.

"Oh, very good," he answered. "I managed to get the spirit out of her."

"How did you do it?" I inquired.

"Soon after you left yesterday, I dressed myself in my official garments, came into my wife's apartments, and asked the spirit if it would not like to go with me to the yamen, adding that we would have some interesting cases to settle. I felt a strange sensation come over me and I knew the spirit had entered me. I got into my cart, drove down to the home of my sister-in-law, went in where the corpse lay, and told the spirit that it would be a disgrace to have a woman at the Board of Punishments. 'This is your place,' I said, in an angry voice; 'get out of me and stay where you belong.' I felt the spirit leaving me, my fingers became stiff and I felt faint. I had only been at the Board a short time when they sent a servant to tell me that my wife was quiet and sleeping. When I returned in the evening the fever was gone and she was rational."



XVIII

The Funeral Ceremonies of a Dowager Princess

There are five degrees of mourning, as follows:—For parents, grandparents and great-grandparents; for brothers and sisters; for uncles and aunts; and for distant relatives. In the first sackcloth without hem or border; in the second with hem or border; in the third, fourth and fifth, pieces of sackcloth on parts of the dress. When sackcloth is worn, after the third interval of seven days is over the mourners can cast it off, and wear plain colours, such as white, gray, black and blue. For a parent the period is nominally three years, but really twenty-seven months, during all which time no silk can be worn; during this time officials have to resign their appointments, and retire from public life.—Dyer Ball in "Things Chinese."



XVIII

THE FUNERAL CEREMONIES OF A DOWAGER PRINCESS[5]

[5] Taken from Mrs. Headland's note-book.

One day I received a large sheet of white paper on which was written in Chinese characters the announcement of the death of the Dowager Princess Su, and inviting me to the "third-day exercises." The real meaning of this "chieh san" I did not comprehend, but I knew that those who were invited sent presents of cakes or fruit, or baskets of paper flowers, incense, gold and silver ingots made of paper, or rolls of paper silk, all of which were intended for the use of the spirit of the departed. The paper presents were all burned on the evening of the third day, while the spirit feasted upon the flavour of the fruit and cakes.

As I did not feel that it was appropriate for me to send these things, I had a beautiful wreath of white chrysanthemum flowers made, and sent that instead. While I appreciated the invitation, I thought it was probably given only as a matter of form, and that I was not expected to attend the exercises, and so I sent my Chinese maid with the wreath, saying that as I did not understand their customs I would not go.

It was not long until the maid returned saying that they were anxious to have me come, that under no circumstances must I refuse, as they wished me to see their funeral ceremonies. The Princess sent her cart for me, and according to the Chinese custom, I took my maid seated upon the front, and set out for Prince Su's palace. As we neared our destination we passed numerous carts and chairs of princes who had been at the palace to pay their respects. The street leading off the great thoroughfare was filled with carts, chairs, servants and outriders, but the utmost order prevailed. There were scores of soldiers and special police, the latter dressed in long garments of gray with a short jacket of white on the breast of which was his number in black. These gray and white uniforms were mourning colours, and were given by the Prince.

As we entered the gate we saw white-robed servants everywhere, each with a sober face and a dignified bearing, waiting to be of use. My name was announced and two servants stepped out from the crowd, clothed from head to feet in white sackcloth, one presenting his arm to help me through the court, as though I were a bound-footed woman, and the other led the way. We were taken by a roundabout path, through numerous courts and passages, the front being reserved for the male guests, and were finally ushered into a room filled with white-robed women servants, who with one accord bent their knee in a low courtesy.

We were there met by the first and third Princesses, daughters of the Dowager who had just passed away. They were dressed in white, their hair being put up in the Manchu fashion. Instead of the jewels and bright flowers, however, it was crossed and recrossed with bands of white folded sackcloth. As these two ladies were married daughters, and had left this home, their sackcloth was not so coarse as that of the daughters-in-law and granddaughters who dwelt in the palace. It was they who received the guests and conducted them into the room where the mourners were kneeling.

As the white door screen was raised I saw two rows of white-robed figures kneeling on the floor, and as I entered they all bent forward and touched their head to the ground, giving forth as they did it a low, wailing chant.

Not knowing their customs I went up and stooped over, speaking first to the Princess and then to the ladies as best I could. I afterwards watched the other lady visitors and saw that they put their right hand up near their head as our soldiers salute, and courtesied to the Princess, her daughter-in-law and her eldest daughter. They then went over to a little table on which was a silver sacrificial set, consisting of a wine tankard, a great bowl, and a number of tiny cups holding but two tablespoonfuls. They took the cup in its little saucer, and, facing the beautiful canopied catafalque where the Dowager Princess was lying in state, they raised the cup as high as their head three times, emptying and refilling it each time. The mourners prostrated themselves and gave forth a mournful wail each time the cup was poured, after which the visitor arose and came over to where we were, and the ceremony was over.

The third daughter of the late Dowager seemed to regard me as her special friend and guest, and insisted on my coming over to a white curtain that separated us from the view of the gentlemen, and from there I watched the proceedings of princes and officials who went through a similar ceremony. There was this difference with them, however, as they entered through the great canopied court, they were conducted by white-robed servants directly to the altar, and there kneeling, they made their obeisance to the spirit of the departed, after which they went into the room where the Prince and the other male descendants of the dead Dowager were kneeling and prostrating themselves.

There was a heavy yellow curtain over the door that led into the sacrificial hall, and when the servants from without announced a visitor, this curtain was drawn aside, and as the guest and a flood of light entered, the mourners began their wailing which they continued until he had departed. These visitors remained but a moment, while the ladies who were there were all near relatives, and were dressed either entirely or partially in sackcloth.

The room in which these ladies knelt was draped in white. The cushions were all covered with white, and all porcelain and other decorations had been removed. The floor was covered with a heavy rope matting, on which the ladies knelt—all except the Princess, for whom was prepared a small dark blue felt cushion. The Princess knelt at the northwest corner of the room, directly in front of the curtain which separated them from the sacrificial hall. Several of the very near male relatives entered and gave the low Manchu courtesy to the Princess, the son's wife, and the eldest daughter, though none of the other kneeling ladies were recognized. They left immediately without, so far as I noticed, raising their eyes.

The Prince, his sons and the other mourners in the men's room were clothed in white fur, and the servants too, who stood in the sacrificial hall, and at intervals along the way towards the hall, wore white fur coats instead of sackcloth.

To the left of the Princess there knelt in succession all the secondary wives of Prince Su, and if I mistake not there were five of these concubines. Behind the Princess knelt her son's wife—the future Princess Su, and on her left, the daughters and granddaughters of the Prince knelt in succession. The Princess and secondary princesses had bands of sackcloth wound around their heads, though their hair hung down their backs in two long braids, and as I had never seen these princesses except when clothed in beautifully embroidered satin garments, with hair put up in elaborate coiffures, decked with jewels and flowers, and faces painted and powdered in the proper Manchu fashion, it was not easy to recognize them in these white-robed, yellow-faced women, with hair hanging down their backs.

The grandson's wife and granddaughters, on the other hand, had their hair combed, but the long hairpin was of silver instead of jade or gold, and instead of being decorated with jewels and flowers, and a red cord, it was crossed and recrossed with bands of folded sackcloth an inch and a half in width. It was neat and very effective—the black hair and white cloth making a pretty contrast to the Western eye, though it would probably not be so considered by the Chinese.

After I had watched them for a few moments I said to the princess who accompanied me:

"I must not intrude upon your time longer; you have been very kind to allow me to witness all these interesting customs."

"Oh, but you must not go now," she insisted; "you must remain and see the arrival of the priests, and the burning of the paper houses, goods, chattels, and images on the great street. I want you to understand all our customs, and this is the greatest and most interesting day of the funeral ceremonies."

I urged that I ought not to intrude myself upon them at this time.

"No, no," she said, "you must not say that. It is not intrusion; you must stay and dine with us this evening."

When I still insisted upon going she said that if I went they would feel that I did not care for them, and she was so persistent that I consented to remain if the maid might be sent home to the children, which they at once arranged for.

In the interval between the arrival of male guests, the ladies took me out into a large canopied court to see the decorations, and into the sacrificial hall. These ceremonies were all conducted in the house and court which the Dowager Princess had occupied, and where I had often gone to see her when she wanted to thank me for some medical attention I had given her children or grandchildren.

As we passed through the great gate, I noticed that the court was covered with a mat pavilion making a room about one hundred and fifty feet square, lighted by great squares of glass near the top, and decorated with banners of rich brocade silks or satins, of sober colours, blue, gray or white, on which were texts extolling the virtues of the late Dowager or her family. These were the gifts of friends, who had been coming and would continue to come for days if not weeks.

At the north end as one came in at the gate was a gallery running the whole length of the northern court, fitted up with special hangings which separated it into different compartments. Many elegant banners and decorations gave it a striking effect. This was the place where the priests, who had not yet arrived, were to say their prayers day and night until the funeral ceremonies were over.

Directly in front of the catafalque, in the gallery, there was a table on which I afterwards saw the priests place a silver vessel which the head priest carried, and the others regarded with much solemnity.

From the gateway leading into the sacrificial hall the floor of the court had been raised even with the door of the house and the gate, a height of about five feet, and forty feet wide, and was covered with the same kind of rope matting that was on the floors. On the canopied verandas there were stacks of cakes, incense, fruit and money. These were the most novel sights I have ever seen in China. They were ten or twelve feet high. They were a very pretty sight, and it required some scrutiny to discover that they were made of cakes and fruit. How they were able to build them thus, tier upon tier, and prevent their falling when they were touched is beyond my comprehension. What magic there is in it I do not know.

As one entered the door of the sacrificial hall, towering above everything else, was the great catafalque, draped in cloth of gold, and in front of it were stacks of these sacrificial cakes. Near them there was a table on which there were great white, square candles, five inches or more in diameter, the four sides of which were stamped with figures of fairies and immortals. On this table there were also various savoury dishes, together with cakes and fruit, prepared to feed the spirit of the dead. In front of this table again there was another about a foot high on which were placed the sacrificial wine vessels, and before which the guests knelt. As we entered I saw the gentlemen kneeling to the left, while the ladies, separated from them by white curtains, were kneeling to the right.

After we had seen the various customs without, I was taken into the dining-room, where I sat down with the young Princess and her two aunts, daughters of the Dowager. They were very kind and polite, and did all in their power to make me feel at home. We were attended by white-robed eunuchs, who knelt when they spoke to the Princess. There was such a lot of them.

"How many servants do you use ordinarily?" I asked the eldest daughter.

"About four hundred," she replied.

I thought of the task of robing four hundred servants in new white sackcloth, and attending to all the other things that I had seen, in the forty-eight hours since the death of the Dowager Princess. Even the bread, instead of being dotted with red as it is ordinarily, was dotted with black!

As we were finishing our supper we heard the horns of the priests and went to see them arrive. Prince Su, and the other male members of the family, went out to the door to receive them, but we remained within. They first went to the gallery, then the head priest came down into the sacrificial hall and made nine prostrations before the catafalque, without, however, pouring or offering wine. After each third prostration he stood up and raised his clasped hands to a level with his eyes. They then began their weird music, standing on the two sides of the raised platform between the gate and the house, thus allowing a passageway between them for the guests.

The Princess told me that they were about to form a procession to go to the great street. I therefore took my leave in order that I might precede them and see the procession arrive, and witness the burning of the presents for the spirit.

When I arrived on the great street I there beheld a paper cart and horses which were intended to transport the spirit to the eastern heaven. There was a sedan chair for her use after her arrival, numerous servants, money, silk, and a beautiful, big house for her to dwell in, all made of paper. I had not long to wait for the procession, which was headed by the priests playing mournful, wailing music on large and small horns and drums. The priests were followed by the mourners and their friends. When they arrived at the place of the burning, the mourners prostrated themselves upon white cushions before the paper furnishings amid the shrieks of the instruments, the wailing of the hired mourners, and the petitions of the priests for the spirits to assist the departed on her way.

While this was going on, fire was applied to various parts of the paper pile, and in a moment a great flame sprang up into the air—a flame that could be seen from miles around, and in less time than it takes to tell it the whole was a heap of glowing ashes, the mourners had departed, and the little street children were stirring it up with long sticks.

The first three days after death, the spirit is supposed to visit the different temples, going, as it were, from official court to official court receiving judgment, and cards of merit or demerit to take with it, for the deeds done in the body. On the third day it returns to say farewell to the home, and then leaves for its long journey, and all this paper furniture is sent on ahead.

They continue forty-nine days of prayers by the priests, alternating three days by the Buddhists, three by the Lamas, and three by the Taoists, after which the Buddhists take their turn again. Everything else remains much as I have described it. The family, servants, everybody in mourning, and all business put aside to make way for this ceremony of mourning, mourning, mourning, when they ought to be rejoicing, for the poor old Princess had been a paralytic for years and was far better out of her misery.

The Princess frequently sent her cart for me during these days. Once when I was going through the court where there were vast quantities of things to be burned for the spirit, all made of paper, I noticed some that were so natural that I was unable to distinguish between them and the real things. Especially was this true of the furniture and flowers like that which had been in her apartments. There were great ebony chairs with fantastically marked marble seats, cabinets, and all the furniture necessary for her use. Among these things I noticed on the table a pack of cards and a set of dice, of which she had been very fond, and a chair like the one in which the eunuchs had carried the crippled old Princess about the court, and I said to the young Princess who accompanied me:

"You do not think your grandmother will require these things in the spirit world, do you?"

"Perhaps not," she replied, "but she enjoyed her cards and dice, and the chair was such a necessity, that, whether she needs them or not, it is a comfort to us to get and send her everything she liked while she lived, and it helps us bear our sorrows."



XIX

Chinese Princes and Officials

In any estimate of the forces which lead and control public opinion in China, everywhere from the knot of peasants in the hamlet to the highest officers of state and the Emperor himself, the literati, or educated class, must be given a prominent position. They form an immense body, increased each year by the government examinations. They are at the head of the social order. Every civil officer in the empire must be chosen from their number. They constitute the basis of an elaborate system of civil service, well equipped with checks and balances which, if corrected and brought into touch with modern life and thought, would easily command the admiration of the world.—Chester Holcomb in "The Real Chinese Question."

XIX

CHINESE PRINCES AND OFFICIALS

One day while the head eunuch from the palace of one of the leading princes in Peking was sitting in my study he said:

"It is drawing near to the New Year. Do you celebrate the New Year in your honourable country?"

"Yes," I replied, "though not quite the same as you do here."

"Do you fire off crackers?"

"Yes, in the matter of firecrackers, we celebrate very much the same as you do."

"And do you settle up all your debts as we do here?"

"I am afraid we do not. That is not a part of our New Year celebration."

"Our Prince is going to take on two more concubines this New Year," he volunteered.

"Ah, indeed, I thought he had three concubines already."

"So he does, but he is entitled to five."

"I should think it would make trouble in a family for one man to have so many women," I ventured.

He waved his hand in that peculiar way the Chinese have of saying, don't mention it, as he answered:

"That is a difficult matter to discuss. Naturally if this woman sees the Prince talking to that one, this one is going to eat vinegar," which gives us a glimpse of some of the domestic difficulties in Chinese high life. However it is a fact worth remembering that the Manchu prince does not receive his full stipend from the government until he has five concubines, each of whom is the mother of a son.

The leading princes of the new regime are Ching, Su, and Pu-lun. Prince Ching has been the leader of the Manchus ever since the downfall of Prince Kung. He has held almost every office it was in the power of the Empress Dowager to give, "though disliked by the Emperor." He was made president of the Tsung-li Yamen in 1884, and from that time until the present has never been degraded, or in any way lost the imperial favour. He is small in stature, has none of the elements of the great man that characterized Li Hung-chang and Chang Chih-tung, or Prince Kung, but he has always been characterized by that diplomacy which has kept him one of the most useful officials in close connection with the Empress Dowager. It is to his credit moreover that the legations were preserved from the Boxers in the siege of 1900.

Prince Su is the only one of the eight hereditary princes who holds any office that brings him into intimate contact with the foreigners. During the Boxer siege he gave his palace for the use of the native Christians, and at the close was made collector of the customs duties (octoroi) at the city gates. Never had there been any one in charge of this post who turned in as large proportion of the total collections as he. This excited the jealousy of the other officials, and they said to each other: "If Prince Su is allowed to hold this position for any length of time there will never be anything in it for any one else." They therefore sought for a ground of accusation, and they found it, in the eyes of the conservatives, in the fact that he rode in a foreign carriage, built himself a house after the foreign style of architecture, furnished it with foreign furniture, employed an Englishman to teach his boys, and as we have seen opened a school for the women and girls of his family. He therefore lost his position, but it is to the credit of Prince Chun, the new Regent, and his progressive policy, that Prince Su has been made chief of the naval department, of which Prince Ching is only an adviser.

The most important person among either princes or officials that has been connected with the new regime is Yuan Shih-kai. He was born in the province of Honan, that province south of the Yellow River which is almost annually flooded by that great muddy stream which is called "China's Sorrow." As a boy he was a diligent student of the Chinese classics and of such foreign books as had been translated into the Chinese language, but he has never studied a foreign tongue nor visited a foreign country. Here then rests the first element of his greatness—that without any knowledge of foreign language, foreign law, foreign literature, science of government, or the history of progress and of civilization, he has occupied the highest and most responsible positions in the gift of the empire, has steered the ship of state on a straight course between the shoals of conservatism on the one hand and radical reform on the other until he has brought her near to the harbour of a safe progressive policy.

He has always been what the Chinese call the tu-ti or pupil of Li Hung-chang, and it may be that it was from him he learned his statecraft. Certain it is that he always basked in the favour of the great Viceroy, and it may be that he had more or less influence with him in his earlier appointments, for he rose rapidly and in spite of all other officials.

On his return from Korea he was made a judge. He was then put in charge of the army of the metropolitan province, and with the assistance of German officers he succeeded in drilling 12,500 troops after the European fashion.

It was about this time that the Emperor conceived the plan of instituting and carrying out one of the most stupendous reforms that has ever been undertaken in human government—that of transforming four thousand years of conservatism of four hundred millions of people in the short space of a few months.

Given: A people who cannot make a nail, to build a railroad.

Given: A people who dare not plow a deep furrow for fear of disturbing the spirits of the place, to open gold, silver, iron and coal mines.

Given: A people who in 4,000 years did not have the genius to develop a decent high school, to open a university in the capital of every province.

These are three of the score or more of equally difficult problems that the Emperor undertook to solve in twice as many days. In order to the solution of these problems there was organized in Peking a Reform Party of hot-headed, radical young scholars not one of whom has ever turned out to be a statesman. They were brilliant young men, many of them, but they so lost their heads in their enthusiasm for reform that they forgot that their government was in the hands of the same old conservative leaders under whom it had been for forty centuries.

They introduced into the palace as the private adviser of the Emperor, Kang Yu-wei, as we have already shown, to whom was thus offered one of the greatest opportunities that was ever given to a human being—that of being the leader in this great reform. He was hailed as a young Confucius, but his popularity was short-lived, for he so lacked all statesmanship as to allow the young Emperor to issue twenty-seven edicts, disposing of twenty-seven difficult problems such as I have given above in about twice that many days, and it is this hot-headed and unstatesman-like young "Confucius" who now calls Yuan Shih-kai an opportunist and a traitor because he did not enter into the following plot.

After the Emperor had dismissed two conservative vice-presidents of a Board, two governors of provinces, and a half dozen other useless conservative leaders, they plotted to overthrow him by appealing to the ambition of the Empress Dowager and induce her to dethrone him and again assume the reins of government. They argued that "he was her adopted son, it was she who had placed him on the throne, and she was therefore responsible for his mistakes." They complimented her on "the wisdom which she had manifested, and the statesmanship she had exhibited" during the thirty years and more of her regency. To all which she listened with a greedy ear, but still she made no move.

During this time were the Emperor and his young "Confucius" idle? By no means. They had hatched a counterplot, and had decided that what they could not do by moral suasion and statesmanship they would do by force, and so they sent an order to Yuan Shih-kai, who as we have said had drilled and was in charge of 12,500 of the best troops in the empire, urging him to "hasten to the capital at once, place the Empress Dowager under guard in the Summer Palace so that she may not be allowed to interfere in the affairs of the government, and protect him in his reform measures."

The Emperor knew that nothing could be done without the command of the army which was largely in the hands of a great conservative friend of the Empress Dowager (Jung Lu) the father-in-law of the present Regent. Yuan was in charge of an army corps of 12,500 troops, but for him to have taken them even at the command of the Emperor, without informing his superior officer, would have meant the loss of his head at once. The first thing then for him to do was to take this order to Jung Lu. Yuan was in favour of reform, though he may not have approved of the Emperor's methods. Jung Lu hastened to Prince Ching and they two sped to the Empress Dowager in the Summer Palace where they laid the whole matter before her. She hurried to Peking, boldly faced and denounced the Emperor, took from him his seal of state, and confined him a prisoner in the Winter Palace. Kang Yu-wei, the young "Confucius," fled, but the Empress Dowager seized his brother and five other patriotic young reformers, and ordered them beheaded on the public execution grounds in Peking.

Naturally the Empress Dowager approved of the "wise and statesmanlike methods" of Yuan in thus protecting instead of imprisoning her, and thus placing the reins of government once more in her hands, and she appointed him Junior Vice-President of the Board of Works, and when she was compelled to remove the Governor of Shantung who had organized the Boxer Society, she appointed Yuan Acting Governor in his stead. "Yuan," says Arthur H. Smith, was "a man of a wholly different stripe" from the one removed, and "if left to himself he would speedily have exterminated the whole Boxer brood, but being hampered by 'confidential instructions' from the palace, he could do little but issue poetical proclamations, and revile his subordinates for failure to do their duty."

When Yuan was made Governor of Shantung a number of the Boxer leaders called upon him expecting to find in him a sympathizer worthy of his predecessor. They told him of their great powers and possibilities, and of how they were proof against the spears, swords and bullets of their enemies. Yuan listened to them with patience and interest, and invited them to dine with him and other official friends in the near future.

During the dinner the Governor directed the conversation towards the Boxer leaders and their prowess, and led them once more to relate to all his friends their powers of resistance. He fed them well, and after the dinner was over he suggested that they give an exhibition of their wonderful powers to the friends whom he had invited. This they could not well refuse to do after the braggadocio way in which they had talked, and so the Governor lined them up, called forth a number of his best marksmen, and proceeded with the exhibition, and it is unnecessary to add that if the Empress Dowager had invited Yuan to the meeting with the princes when they discussed the advisability of joining the Boxers on account of a belief in their supernatural powers, she might have been spared the humiliation of 1900.

We shall soon see that Yuan cared no more for the "confidential instructions" of the Empress Dowager, when his statesmanship was involved, than for the orders of the Emperor. His business was to govern and protect the people of his province, and thanks to his wise statesmanship and strong character "there was not only no foreigner killed during the troubled season of anxiety and flight" of 1900, and "comparatively little of the suffering elsewhere so common."

And now we come to another plot which indicates the character of Yuan and two other great viceroys, Chang Chih-tung, now Grand Secretary, and Liu Kun-yi, Viceroy of the Yangtse-kiang provinces. It is a well-known fact that during the Boxer rebellion the Empress Dowager was so influenced by the promises of the Boxers to drive out all the foreigners that she sent out some very unwise edicts that they should be massacred in the provinces. Yuan and his two confreres secretly stipulated that if the foreign men of war would keep away from the ports of their provinces they would maintain peace and protect the foreigners no matter what orders came from the throne. So that when these confidential instructions came from the palace to massacre the foreigners, in order to gain time they pretended to believe that no such orders could have come from the throne. They must be forgeries of the Boxers. They therefore refused to believe them until they had sent their own special messenger all the way to Peking to get the edict from the hands of Her Majesty and bring it to them in their provinces. This messenger was also secretly instructed to find out what the contents of the edict were, and if it was contrary to the desires of the Governor, he was to dilly-dally on the way home until the Boxer trouble was ended or until the foreigners had all been removed from the territory. And it was such conduct as this on the part of three Chinese and one Manchu viceroys that saved China from being divided up among the Powers in 1900, a fact which the Empress Dowager was not slow to understand and reward.

In 1900 Yuan was made Governor of the Shantung province, and the court was compelled to flee to Hsian. It was while the court was thus in hiding that an incident occurred which indicates the fertility of the Empress Dowager and the elasticity of all Chinese social customs. Governor Yuan's mother died. In a case of this kind customs dictate, and the rules of filial affection demand, that a man shall resign all his official positions and go into mourning for a period of three years. Yuan therefore sent his resignation to the Empress Dowager, while "weeping tears of blood."

The country was of course in desperate straits and could ill afford to lose, for three years, for a mere sentiment, the services of one of her greatest and most powerful statesmen. However much he may have regretted to give up such a brilliant career which was just well begun, Yuan no doubt expected to do so. What was his surprise therefore to receive from Her Majesty a message of condolence in which she praised his mother in the highest terms for having given the world such a brilliant and able son. Under the circumstances, however, it would be impossible to accept his resignation as his services to the country just at this juncture were indispensable. She would, however, appoint a substitute to go into mourning for him, and this with the knowledge that she had borne a son whose services were so necessary to the safety of the government and the country, would be a sufficient comfort to the spirit of his departed mother, and Yuan was forced to continue in his official position as Governor of the province without the intermission of a single day of mourning. Such is the elasticity and adaptability of the unchanging laws and customs of the Oriental when in the hands of a master—or a mistress—like Her Majesty the Empress Dowager.

One can imagine that in proportion as the Empress Dowager was pleased with the statesmanship manifested by Yuan Shih-kai in unintentionally reseating her upon the throne, in a like proportion the Emperor would be dissatisfied with it as being the cause of his dethronement. This was not, however, against Yuan alone but against the father-in-law of the present Regent and even Prince Ching as well. During the whole ten years, from 1898 until his death, while he was a prisoner "his heart boiled with wrath" against those who had been the cause of his downfall.

It was not until the Boxer troubles of 1900 were over, and Yuan, by the masterly way in which he had disregarded the imperial edicts, had protected and preserved the lives of all the foreigners in his province, keeping peace the while, that honours began to be heaped upon him. And this not without reason as we shall proceed to show.

In 1901 he was made Governor-General of the metropolitan province, and Junior Guardian of the Heir Apparent. In 1902 he was decorated with the Yellow Jacket, placed in charge of the affairs of the Northern Railway, and consulting minister to counsel the government. Wherever he was he gave as much attention to the city government as to that of the province or the nation, and in spite of his having no foreign education himself, he began building up a system of public schools in his province like which there is nothing else in the whole of China. Let us remember also that during ail this time there was suspended over his head, from the palace, a sword of Damocles which was liable to fall at any time. But we will explain that further on as it is the last act of the drama.

When Yuan went to Tientsin as Viceroy of the metropolitan province he found there Dr. C. D. Tenny, the president of the Tientsin University which had been begun by Li Hung-chang some ten or a dozen years before. It had a good course of study and was turning out a large number of young graduates for whom there ought to be a better future than that of interpreters in the various business houses of that and other cities. He therefore called Dr. Tenny to him and inquired particularly about the system of public school education throughout the United States.

"What is to prevent our putting into operation such a system throughout this province?" asked the Viceroy.

"Nothing," answered Dr. Tenny, "except to be willing to submit to the conditions."

"And what are those conditions?" asked His Excellency.

"They are that you open schools in every important town, place in them well-educated, competent teachers, whom you are willing to pay a salary equal to what they may reasonably expect to get if they enter business."

"May I ask if you would be willing to undertake the development of such a system?" he asked further.

"On one condition," answered Dr. Tenny.

"And what is that?"

"That you allow me to open a school wherever I think there should be one, call my teachers from whatsoever source I please to call them, pay them whatever salary I think they deserve, sending all the bills to Your Excellency, and you pay them without question."

The Viceroy had known Dr. Tenny for years, had always had the most implicit confidence both in his ability and his honesty, and so, lightening up his duties in the Tientsin and Paotingfu Universities, he commissioned him to establish what may be termed the first public school system of education on modern lines in the whole empire. This one act, if he had done no other, was reason enough for a wise regent to have continued him in office even though he "had rheumatism of the leg." But it may be that there are extenuating circumstances in this act of the Regent as we shall point out later.

There is one phase of the Boxer uprising that I have never yet seen properly represented in any book or magazine. We all know how the ministers of the various European governments with their wives and children, the customs officials, missionaries, business men, and tourists who happened to be in Peking at the time, with all the Chinese Christians, were confined in the British legation and Prince Su's palace. We know how they barricaded their defense. We know how they were fired upon day and night for six weeks by the Boxer leaders and the army of the conservatives under the leadership of their general, Tung Fu-hsiang. But the thing which we do not know, or at least which has not been adequately told, is the most interesting secret plot of the liberal progressives, under the leadership of "Prince Ching and others," to thwart the Empress Dowager and the Boxer leaders, the conservatives and their army, and protect the most noted company of prisoners that have ever been confined in a legation quarter. The plot was this:

When Prince Ching and his progressive associates in Peking discovered that they could not vote down the Boxer princes, they dared not openly oppose them, but they secretly decided that the representatives of the Powers must not be massacred else the doom of China was sealed. When they discovered that Yuan Shih-kai and the other great viceroys had decided by stratagem to foil the Boxers even though they must set all the imperial edicts at naught, they decided, for the sake of the protection of the legations and the preservation of the empire, that they would do the same. They secretly sent supplies of food to the besieged, which the latter feared to use lest they be poisoned. But more than that they kept their own armies in Peking as a guard and as a final resort in case there was danger of the legation being overcome, and as a matter of fact there were regular pitched battles between the troops of Prince Ching and his associates and those of the Boxer leader, Tung Fu-hsiang. Had the Boxers finally succeeded, Yuan Shih-kai and Prince Ching and their associates would have lost their heads, but as the Boxers failed it was they who went to their graves by the short process of the executioner's knife.

So Yuan was between two fires. He had disobeyed the commands of the Emperor in not coming to Peking and had therefore incurred his displeasure and caused his downfall. He had disobeyed the Empress Dowager in not putting to death the foreigners in his province, and if the Boxers were successful he would surely lose his head on that account. The Boxers, however, were not successful and as his disobedience had helped to save the empire, Yuan, so long as the Dowager remained in power, was safe.

But a day of reckoning must inevitably come. The Empress Dowager was an old woman, the Emperor was a young man. In all human probabilities she would be the first to die, while his only hope was in her outliving the Emperor, who had sworn vengeance on all those who had been instrumental in his imprisonment.

I have a friend in Peking who is also a friend of one of the greatest Chinese officials. This official has gone into the palace daily for a dozen years past and knows every plot and counterplot that has been hatched in that nest of seclusion during all that time, though he has been implicated in none of them. He has held the highest positions in the gift of the empire without ever once having been degraded. One day when he was in the palace the Emperor unburdened his heart to him, thinking that what he said would never reach the ears of his enemies.

"You have no idea," said the Emperor, "what I suffer here."

"Indeed?" was the only reply of the official.

"Yes," continued the Emperor, "I am not allowed to speak to any one from outside. I am without power, without companions, and even the eunuchs act as though they are under no obligations to respect me. The position of the lowest servant in the palace is more desirable than mine." Then lowering his voice he continued, "But there is a day of reckoning to come. The Empress Dowager cannot live forever, and if ever I get my throne again I will see to it that those who put me here will suffer as I have done."

It is not unlikely that this conversation of the Emperor reached the ears of Yuan Shih-kai. Walls have ears in China. Everything has ears, and every part of nature has a tongue. If so, here was the occasion for the last plot in the drama of the Emperor's life, and next to the last in the official life of Yuan Shih-kai.

The problem is to so manipulate the laws of nature as to prevent the Emperor outliving the Empress Dowager, and not allow the world to know that you have been trifling with occult forces. He must die a natural death, a death which is above suspicion. He must not die one day after the Empress Dowager as that would create talk. And he ought to die some time before her. The death fuse is one which often burns very much longer than we expect—was it not one of the English kings who said "I fear I am a very long time a-dying, gentlemen"—and sometimes it burns out sooner than is intended. There were two imperial death fuses burning at the same time in that Forbidden City of Peking. The Empress Dowager had "had a stroke." Hers was undoubtedly nature's own work. But the enemies of Yuan Shih-kai tell us that the Emperor had "had a Chinese doctor," to whom the great Viceroy paid $33,000 for his services. We are told that the Empress Dowager in reality died first and then the Emperor, though the Emperor's death was first announced, and the next day that of the Dowager.

What then are we to infer? That the Emperor was poisoned? Let it be so. That is what the Japanese believed at the time. But who did it? Most assuredly no one man. One might have employed a Chinese physician for him, but the last man whose physician the Emperor would have accepted would have been Yuan Shih-kai's. Had you or I been ill would we have allowed the man who was the cause of our fall to select our physician? But granted that Yuan Shih-kai did employ his physician, and that his death was the result of slow poisoning, could Yuan Shih-kai have so manipulated Prince Ching, the Regent (who is the late Emperor's brother), the ladies of the court, and all those thousands of eunuchs, to remain silent as to the death of the Empress Dowager until he had completed the slow process on His Majesty? No! If the Emperor was poisoned—and the world believes he was—there are a number of others whose skirts are as badly stained as those of the great Viceroy, or long ere this his body would have been sent home a headless corpse instead of with "rheumatism of the leg."

What then is the explanation? It may be this, that the court, and the officials as a whole, felt that the Emperor was an unsafe person to resume the throne, and that it were better that one man should perish than that the whole regime should be upset. They even refused to allow a foreign physician to go in to see him, saying that of his own free will he had turned again to the Chinese, all of which indicates that it was not the plot of any one man.

Why then should Yuan Shih-kai have been made the scapegoat of the court and the officials, and branded as a murderer in the face of the whole world? That may be another plot. The radical reformers, followers of Kang Yu-wei, have been making such a hubbub about the matter ever since the death of the Emperor and the Empress Dowager that somebody had to be punished. They said that Yuan had been a traitor to the cause of reform, that he had not only betrayed his sovereign in 1898, but that now he had encompassed his death.

Now to satisfy these enemies, the Prince Regent may have decided that the best thing to do was to dismiss Yuan for a time. I think that the trivial excuse he gives for doing so favours my theory—with "rheumatism of the leg," to which is added, "Thus our clemency is manifest"—a sentence which may be severe or may mean nothing, and when the storm has blown over and the sky is clear again, Yuan may be once more brought to the front as Li Hung-chang and others have been in the past. Which is a consummation, I think, devoutly to be wished.



XX

Peking—The City of the Court

The position of Peking at the present time is one of peculiar interest, for all the different forces that are now at work to make or mar China issue from, or converge towards, the capital. There, on the dragon throne, beside, or rather above, the powerless and unhappy Emperor, the father of his people and their god, sits the astute and ever-watchful lady whose word is law to Emperor, minister and clown alike. There dwell the heads of the government boards, the leaders of the Manchu aristocracy, and the great political parties, the drafters of new constitutions and imperial decrees, and the keen-witted diplomatists who know so well how to play against European antagonists the great game of international chess.—R. F. Johnston in "From Peking to Mandelay."



XX

PEKING—THE CITY OF THE COURT

In the place where Peking now stands there has been a city for three thousand years. Five centuries before Christ it was the capital of a small state, but was destroyed three centuries later by the builder of the great wall. It was soon rebuilt, however, and has continued from that time until the present, with varied fortunes, as the capital of a state, the chief city of a department, or the dwelling-place of the court.

It is the greatest and best preserved walled city in the empire, if not in the world. The Tartar City is sixteen miles in circumference, surrounded by a wall sixty feet thick at the bottom, fifty feet thick at the top and forty feet high, with six feet of balustrade on the outside, beautifully crenelated and loopholed, and in a good state of preservation. The streets are sixty feet wide,—or even more in places,—well macadamized, and lit with electric light. The chief mode of conveyance is the 'ricksha, though carriages may be hired by the week, day or hour at various livery stables in proximity to the hotels, which, by the way, furnish as good accommodation to their guests as the hotels of other Oriental cities.

In the centre of the Tartar City is the Imperial City, eight miles in circumference, encircled by a wall six feet thick and fifteen feet high, pierced by four gates at the points of the compass; and in the centre of this again is the Forbidden City, occupying less than half a square mile, the home of the court.

Fairs are held, at various temples, fourteen days of every month, distributed in such a way as to bring them almost on alternate days, while at certain times there are two fairs on the same day. It is a mistake to suppose that the Chinese women in the capital are very much secluded. They may be seen on the streets at almost any time, while the temple courts and adjacent streets, on fair days, are crowded with women and girls, dressed in the most gorgeous colours, their hair decorated with all kinds of artificial flowers, followed by little boys and girls as gaily dressed as themselves. Here they find all kinds of toys, curios, and articles of general use, from a top to a broom, from bits of jade or other precious stones, to a snuff bottle hollowed out of a solid quartz crystal, or a market basket or a dust-pan made of reeds.

Peking being the city of the court, and the headquarters of many of the greatest officials, is the receptacle of the finest products of the oldest and greatest non-Christian people the world has ever known. China easily leads the world in the making of porcelain, the best of which has always gone to Peking for use in the palace, and so we can find here the best products of every reign from the time of Kang Hsi, as well as those of the former dynasties, to that of Kuang Hsu and the Empress Dowager. The same is true of her brass and bronze incense-burners and images, her wood and ivory carvings, her beautiful embroideries, her magnificent tapestries, and her paintings by old masters of six or eight hundred years ago. Here we can find the finest Oriental rugs, in a good state of preservation, with the "tone" that only age can give, made long before the time of Washington.

There is no better market for fine bits of embroidery, mandarin coats, and all the better products of needle, silk and floss, of which the Chinese have been masters for centuries, than the city of the court. The population consists largely of great officials and their families, whose cast-off clothing, toned down by the use of years, often without a blemish or a spot, finds its way into the hands of dealers. The finest furs,—seal, otter, squirrel, sable and ermine,—are brought from Siberia, Manchuria and elsewhere, for the officials and the court, and can be secured for less than half what they would cost in America. Pearls, of which the Chinese ladies and the court are more fond than of diamonds, may be found in abundance in all the bazars, which are many, and judging from the way they are purchased by tourists, are both cheaper and better than elsewhere.

The Chinese have little appreciation of diamonds as jewelry. On one occasion there was offered to me a beautiful ring containing a large sapphire encircled by twenty diamonds. When I offered the dealer less than he asked for it, he said: "No, rather than sell it for that price, I will tear it apart, and sell the diamonds separately for drill-points to the tinkers who mend dishes. I can make more from it in that way, only I dislike to spoil the ring." The Empress Dowager during her late years, and many of the ladies and gentlemen of the more progressive type, affected, whether genuinely or not, an appreciation of the diamond as a piece of jewelry, especially in the form of rings, though coloured stones, polished, but not cut, have always been more popular with the Chinese. The turquoise, the emerald, the sapphire, the ruby and the other precious stones with colour have, therefore, always graced the tables of the bazars in the capital, while the diamond until very recently was relegated to the point of the tinker's drill.

There is another method of bringing bits of their ancient handiwork to the capital which most of those living in Peking, even, know nothing about. A company, whose headquarters is at an inn, called the Hsing Lung Tien, sends agents all over the empire, to purchase and bring to them everything in the nature of a curio, whether porcelain, painting, embroidery, pottery or even an ancient tile or inkstone, which they then, at public auction, sell to the dealers. The sale is at noon each day. The first time I visited it was with a friend from Iowa who was anxious to get some unique bits of porcelain. The auctioneer does not "cry" the wares. Neither buyer nor seller says a word. Nobody knows what anybody else has offered. The goods are passed out of a closed room from a high window where the crowd can see them, and then each one wanting them tries to be first in securing the hand of the auctioneer, which is ensconced in his long sleeve, where, by squeezing his fingers, they tell him how much they will give for the particular piece. It is the only real case of "talking in the sleeve" I have ever seen, and each piece is sold to the first person offering a fair profit on the money invested, though he might get much more by allowing them to bid against each other.