Silhouettes of Peking

by L. de Hoyer; D. de Martel; Sapajou; D. de Warzee

  The kai men ti preceded them. He stopped and with one hand he raised the curtain before him. It was made of matting and decorated with gilt nails. The host, as a sign of respect came forward and made as if he too, would hold the light hanging.

  He was a tall old man with fine features and a slender figure. A small white beard on his chin made his face look even thinner than it was. His eyelids were heavy, but a bright glance filtered through them, sufficing to animate his face. His complexion of a yellow hue gave one the impression of an old ivory statue. He bowed to Chatours, bidding him welcome; then still showing in the usual way the joy this visit caused him, he led him to the end of the room and made Chatours sit on the ceremonial kang in the place of honour on the left. Strictly observing the etiquette the young man resisted, insisting the old man should sit beside him.

  Meanwhile the Marchioness seated herself on one of the Cantonese wood chairs which are always beside a kang. A large piece of marble is inlaid in the back of these chairs. As Chatours’ Chinese was not fluent enough to keep the conversation going, she translated as he spoke.

  The furniture of this room was fairly quiet. At the side opposite the entrance, a large mirror of the Ch’ien Lung period reached to the ceiling. It was framed in ironwood and rested on a carved foot. In the centre, on a round table, the usual clock of European make had pointed doubtless to the same hour for many years. In a corner on a stand between two artificial plants with leaves and flowers of coloured stone, stood a horned shaped tinted glass vase. Its blue and gold design betrayed its foreign origin. Spittoons were symmetrically placed before the chairs, indiscreet signs of a praise-worthy attention to hygienics.

  On the paper walls, where holes betrayed the curiosity of the servants, whose shadows moved about behind the thin screen, some paintings, appropriate to the season, were hanging. They represented landscapes and birds in beautiful Ming colours.

  A silent-footed boy brought scented tea; the old man filled his guest’s cup himself and waited for Chatours to drink first.

  Chatours who knew the sacred rites of etiquette began by the customary compliments on the Prince’s health.

  “I am glad,” he said, “to see you enjoy a robust old age. The years, while bringing you wisdom have not lessened your strength.”

  “Alas,” said the old man, “I have spent 70 useless years.”

  “You slander yourself, your merit is great and every one is aware of the many qualities you have displayed in the interests of the State.”

  “Yes, eyes have been cast at my humble person, but I was not worthy of the notice. It was wrong to confide for so many years the position of Salt Administrator in the Northern Provinces to me. I know nothing and I still have everything to learn. I am ignorant of all foreign science whereas you, Cha Ta Yen, in spite of your youth, you have a great deal of experience and your knowledge is boundless.”

  While they were exchanging these compliments, the Prince played all the time with two ivory balls. He held them in his right hand and rolled them about to keep his tapering fingers supple.

  Mechanically he stopped.

  “I have read,” he said, “in the Chinese papers that very learned Europeans have discovered the means of curing a great many ailments. Is it true that it is possible for an old man to regain the vigour of his youth or for a man exhausted by disease to obtain new rich blood?”

  It took Chatours some seconds to grasp that his host was alluding to human grafting and to the transfusion of blood. He explained to the best of his ability that it was at last possible for great scientists to perform these wonderful things and that in many cases such operations had saved the patients’ life, when even the most powerful remedies, such as powdered tigers’ claws, so dear to the Chinese doctors, had failed.

  While he was giving these explanations, the old man could not conceal his astonishment. He listened to Chatours attentively, his head turning first to the right then to the left as if he could thus follow the young man’s words with more ease. Stroking his small white beard, the polite and amiable expression he had worn since the beginning of the conversation left his face and he remained lost in thought, for some time.

  Then a boy brought him a water pipe with a long bent mouth piece; having filled the little bowl with his own hands, he took from the servant a lighted paper spill which at one end was burning slowly and holding it to the pipe, he drew a long breath making the flame leap up. Then he offered it to his guest with the usual compliments.

  Just then the curtain against the door was raised and two young men entered. The old man introduced them to Chatours, they were his sons. They were clothed in European fashion and wore with ease their tussore silk suits made for them by the English tailor in Morrison street. Their soft collars, indispensable in the summer time, were fastened under their ties with a gold safety pin, giving them an Anglo-Saxon air. However, this was modified by their large gold rimmed spectacles, the only concession they made to ancient Chinese customs.

  After the habitual polite phrases, the elder one said in French: “I was educated in France. As you know, during the last years of Kuang Hsü’s reign, many of the young generation went abroad to study. Our father, yielding to our earnest wish, allowed my brother and myself to go also to learn something of modern civilization. For four years, I studied in Paris at the School of Political Science and at the Law College. My brother went to Japan for two years and studied railroad construction at the Osaka Engineering College. Afterwards he went to the United States to finish. We returned almost three years ago. My brother is in the ministry for Communications and I am secretary at the Foreign Office.” Then he smiled and continued. “Look, you have a picture of the country before your eyes. My father is of the old School, the Mandarin of Li Hung Chang’s time, we two represent ‘Young China’ as they say in the magazines.”

  “And I must confess we are not always of the same opinion on all questions. But is not that the case everywhere even in Europe, where the conservatives, horrified at anything new, struggle against the progressive party.”

  While the young man was speaking his brother was translating briefly to their father the sense of the conversation. Giving his pipe to the servant behind him, the old man spoke: “You see we only suspected the superiority of your knowledge when you came with your great menof-war armed with long distance guns and settled among us. Even then it took us many years to realize we must adopt your ways and it was only when Japan, who had already modernized itself a little, took Korea after defeating our navy and our army, that we finally understood the necessity of assimilating ourselves. But by then I was already too old. I had to limit myself to sending my sons to steep themselves in those sciences which my mind could never grasp. When a building is finished, it is difficult, not to say impossible, to change the plans. But while the building is but little above the level of the ground, there is time to alter it. Their brain was still capable of adapting itself to the new ways, mine was already fully developed.”

  Chatours nodded approval.

  “It was anyhow a wise thing to allow the future generation to participate in the benefits you have not been able to profit by yourself and I admire your wisdom.”

  “It is small credit to us,” replied the Prince, “Many others have done the same thing. However all is not for the best. The young people are often very presumptuous, those who have lived abroad have forgotten there, I am afraid, the teachings of our old philosophers. The immortal Lao Tzu has said: ‘Without leaving home it is possible to know the whole world, it is not necessary to look out of the window to see one’s way to Heaven; the more one travels the less one can learn; without moving one can know; without looking one can see and it is unnecessary to work in order to obtain results’.”

  “The new generation sometimes seems to lose sight of this fundamental truth. Too often they despise the experience of old men who have studied the things of the past. And we cannot attempt to abolish all at once a civilization of thousands of years and put in its place, wi
thout any transition, new ideas brought without alteration from countries which have lived and progressed without coming into contact with us.”

  “China also has a glorious past; its Emperors of the powerful Tsing dynasty made Asia quake, and Ch’ien Lung, the last of its conquerors, made the name of the Chinese respected even to the far off borders of Turkestan. Our own history can therefore give us examples for the governing of our immense Empire which contains more than four hundred million souls.”

  The old man was getting animated; he no longer played with the two ivory balls so similar in colour to his slender parchment-looking hands. His eyes shone between his half closed lids and he continued as if to himself.

  “Misfortune will fall on those who have too much confidence in themselves; they cannot escape the fate awaiting the presumptuous. As the old Master said: ‘He who is satisfied with himself does not shine; he who boasts has no merit, he who sets himself up above the others will never rise. He is like the remains of a meal or like a tumour on a limb, an object of universal disgust, and those who know will turn aside from him’.”

  As if ashamed of having shown his feelings and betrayed some of his intimate thoughts, the Prince said no more, then his eyes wandered and having regained his impassiveness, he began to play once more with the little ivory balls which rattled between his gnarled fingers.

  Silent up to now, the younger son began to speak. “Obviously,” he said, “our ideas shocked the people accustomed to the old regime; of course we younger ones should consider the existing state of affairs and therefore we can only slowly and cautiously introduce foreign civilization into China. Our father is right to put the younger generation on its guard against too great ambition. Nevertheless we must not be intimidated by the obstacles, put in our path through ignorance and custom; we must make the best of things and even if we should upset centuries-old prejudices, our ideas will finally triumph. Yes, we shall end by giving China a modern administration which will permit it to realize all its riches and to develope its resources. Besides the situation in which we find ourselves is not new. Does not England, for example, like other European countries, hover between two parties one attempting to arrest all progress the other struggling to precipitate things. Our father represents the former my brother and myself the latter. As for the old national philosopher, he certainly left us immortal principles, drawn from the wisest sources, but he should not be our only guide, for certain of his sayings are the absolute reverse to progress as for instance, those founded on the theory of inaction: ‘Practise inactivity, be content to do nothing’.”

  The conversation dragged a few minutes more. Chatours understood it was now time to go. He rose. The Prince, smiling and polite, accompanied him to the door; according to Chinese etiquette, he made as though to go as far as the second courtyard. But the young man, following the customary protocol, refused this honour and some minutes passed in the exchange of protestations. Finally giving in as if with regret, the old man allowed himself to be persuaded; he bowed for the last time to his visitor. His two sons, less stiff, shook hands heartily with him.

  As his motor went rapidly through the streets, Chatours thought of the scene in which he had just taken a part. The amiable old man personified ancient China; he was the great Empress, Tse Hsi’s attendant. Then he had a vision of the mandarins, their magnificent robes iridescent under the sun’s kisses and their ceremonial hats adorned with peacock’s feathers, begging an audience of the Son of Heaven.

  Those days had past. No more flowered robes embroidered with dragons, no more carrying chairs, the commonplace morning coat and the scanty evening clothes had driven away the old ceremonial garments. But could these young men almost at their ease in their European clothes really change the state of affairs and restore the Golden Age as did their predecessors in the Land of the Rising Sun?

  His thoughts had wandered thus far, when the Marchioness, annoyed by his long silence, began to talk, “Little Foreign Devil, do you remember Mr. Li, one of my admirers of whom you were rather jealous? Well, you can now be reassured, he has returned to the Honan, his native province.”

  “Indeed, why is he in disgrace?”

  “Oh, nothing very important. As secretary at the Presidency he ‘squeezed’ too much and they were obliged to remove him, but he will certainly be in favour again within a few months.”

  Chatours smiled and seeking no longer to arrange China’s future, he chattered to the dear little doll seated beside him.

  CHAPTER IX

  THE intense heat had already driven to the sea side those people who were not obliged to stay in Peking. Mme. de Beaurelois, declaring she needed rest and quiet, had deserted Pei Ta Ho for Shan Hai Kwan this year. The latter place was an unpretentious family resort and seemed better suited to the state of mind into which her latest sentimental adventure had plunged her. However, not wishing to find herself quite isolated, she had sung the praises of the place to her set, and nearly every one followed her there.

  On the fine sands washed by the waves of a sea, almost always calm, the merry company, as it had been nicknamed, met morning and evening. Blanche, in love with the picturesque, had refused to live in one of the villas on the coast. With the buildings belonging to the English, French and Italian guards, they formed the entire European village. She settled herself in a large temple some way from the sea, but overlooking the river; it had a broad terrace shaded by a few trees where she could pass the evenings.

  The temple had been abandoned some years ago by the priests. Only painted idols with grimacing faces recalled the primitive purpose of the place. Some Chinese merchants bought it to let to bathers during the summer months. One part of the building, roughly repaired, the rooms whitewashed afresh each season, was large enough to shelter the easily satisfied tenants, amused by the prospect of a lengthy camping out holiday. Of course camp beds were indispensable and the furniture comprised only the absolutely necessary.

  Mme. de Beaurelois had taken the whole temple with the Immerstehts. It could hold about fifteen people. The meals were in common, but except at lunch and dinner where every one met, they all amused themselves quite independently.

  This week Blanche had as her guests the de Wolfs, Graziolli and Miss de Frissonges whose father, recalled to Peking on business, had left her there. The Immerstehts’ guests were Dr. Borioni and a young Dutchman, Van Axel, just come from the South, where, as Councillor for irrigation affairs, he had been to survey some hydraulic works for the Chinese Government.

  After dinner every one assembled on the terrace. A single lamp placed on the stone table gave out a dim light and in the semi darkness the men’s cigars glowed red on the faces in the shadows.

  No one spoke, they were all very pensive; comfortably lazy after their meal and ashamed to disturb the silence of the night. The only sounds were the far off murmur of the waves as the tide rose on the near-by beach and the noise of the stream at the foot of the temple as it rustled through the reeds on the banks. A low-flying sea gull went through the air uttering plaintive cries. That was sufficient to break the charm. The powerful Immersteht who never wasted much time on thought, even when digesting his meals, rose suddenly, fearful of growing fat, from the wicker chair where he had been smoking quietly.

  “You know, my dear,” he said to Mme. de Beaurelois, “you were wrong not to accompany us on our excursion to-day. The heat was not excessive and we reached the Hunchback Temple without tiring ourselves. We had a wonderful view from above. I left Miss de Frissonges and the men to go on horseback and I went on foot taking the short cuts.”

  “But you must be dead tired,” said Mme. de Wolf, “how can you still move about?”

  “Good Heavens,” answered the Collossus, “I can’t take any credit for that, it is just a question of training.”

  And going up to Graziolli he started a long argument with him on the merits of Swedish exercises for keeping the body supple and the muscles in good condition.

  Van Axel took the empty gla
ss Miss de Frissonges was holding in her hand and put it on the table. For a few moments he looked at her; he had quite recently come to Peking; up to now he had lived in Shanghai and Canton; he had arrived here at the beginning of the summer just before every one scattered.

  Mme. de Beaurelois took him at once under her wing. This shy young man with kind blue eyes, frank face and fair hair won all hearts from the start. Blanche made him promise to spend his week ends with her and nearly every week saw him at Shan Hai Kwan. During the excursion to the Hunchback Temple he rode beside Miss de Frissonges talking to her when the pace slackened. Graziolli and the other men annoyed her with their chatter, but he did not bore her and his attentions pleased her. He did not ask for her confidence but she felt he understood and he looked at her tenderly and compassionately. She liked his reserved and respectful attitude towards her, such a contrast to the free and easy manners around her.

  Since the Wan Hei Lo picnic, he was the only person with whom she exchanged ought but the barest commonplaces. He had not sought her confidence but she had shown him a corner of her bruised heart and he had found simple words that acted as a balm on her wounds.

  He was the first to break the silence, asking her to admire the Heavens studded with thousands of stars shedding a dim light from the sky. He named the stars to her, the Greater Bear, Orion, the Swan. Then he spoke of his travels, his last visit to the Dutch Indies where he had stayed some time. In six months his contract with the Chinese Government would expire and he would return to Holland and take up his duties again as engineer in the Dykes Administration.

  Meanwhile, Borioni talked to de Wolf, whose wife, staid and chilly, listened without flinching to the most awful stories being told her by Graziolli. Encouraged by her attitude the young Italian had slyly taken advantage of the darkness to promenade an indiscreet hand over certain rotundities, which did not appear to shun this attention. As however, he became bolder in his actions, she said simply without raising her voice: