At Chinese New Year the streets of Peking were gay with all manner of things for sale, such as these brilliantly colored paintings of native artists
At Chinese New Year the streets of Peking were gay with all manner of things for sale, such as these brilliantly colored paintings of native artists
At Chinese New Year the streets of Peking were gay with all manner of things for sale, such as these brilliantly colored paintings of native artists
A rich man died in our street; and among other things burned at his grave, so that he would have them in after life, were this “automobile” and two “chauffeurs”
A rich man died in our street; and among other things burned at his grave, so that he would have them in after life, were this “automobile” and two “chauffeurs”
A rich man died in our street; and among other things burned at his grave, so that he would have them in after life, were this “automobile” and two “chauffeurs”
A neighbor who gave his birds a daily airing
A neighbor who gave his birds a daily airing
A neighbor who gave his birds a daily airing
Just above us on the Tartar Wall were the ancient astronomical instruments looted by the Germans in 1900 and recently returned, in accordance with a clause in the Treaty of Versailles
Just above us on the Tartar Wall were the ancient astronomical instruments looted by the Germans in 1900 and recently returned, in accordance with a clause in the Treaty of Versailles
Just above us on the Tartar Wall were the ancient astronomical instruments looted by the Germans in 1900 and recently returned, in accordance with a clause in the Treaty of Versailles
There may be a gauntlet a block long of merry but habitually unwashed children, chanting their incessant “Ee mao ch’ien! Ee mao ch’ien!” (“One dime money!”) as often as they catch sight of us, and the daily beggar of our section, with his “Lao yea tai-tai! Lao yea tai-tai!” (“Old gentleman lady!”) that wheezes down the scale in so persuasive a manner, is frequently out-shouted by his poaching rivals; but once the gate of the nearest wall-ramp is locked behind us by the keeper who jogs down at the tinkling of his little bell we are as free from such annoyances as from the dust and the forgotten garbage along thehutungs. For the Chinese are not allowed on the wall. That is, the great rank and file are not, and those of the better class who care that much for physical exercise are few, so that the top of the great Tartar Wall is almost a foreigners’ private promenade. None of our servants, not even those born in Peking, had ever been admitted to it until they appeared at the foot of our ramp with “Ha-li” as a passport. For that matter nearly all those wonderful monuments which even the three-day tourist has visited are closed to them, either by rule or by the high cost of admission. Scandalous, no doubt, from the Western democratic point of view; pathetic when we imbue our servants with our own feelings. But it never seems to have occurred to them that it is unjust—if it is. For to throw open the wall to the general public of Peking for a single week would make it an impassable stretch of filth, sleeping beggars, and jostling coolies; and in a month even what is left of its parapets would have been thrown down for the building of new hovels inside it or out.
When we came at the end of summer the top of the wall was a jungle, in places almost impassable, gay with morning-glories and other flowers, a broad hayfield even in its least fertile portions. By December hay-makers and fuel-gatherers had made it a wind-swept concourse almost fit for an automobile race, half a dozen cars abreast, except for that short piece of it between Hata-men and the gate by which the emperor once came and went, where it is in the hands of the foreign legations below. On the brilliant spring Sunday not long ago that I made the circuit of the wall this autumn’s harvest was already promised in the delicate green that was spreading along it, as it was across the great tree-topped city it encloses. That stroll of twelve or thirteen miles is almost a complete course in Chinese life and history, at least of recent centuries; but what lies outside our immediate neighborhood is another story. From that bit of the wall just above us which is our principal playground there is enough of interest within plain view, from the courtyards of our neighbors below to the distant range of the Western Hills half enclosing the plain of Peking, to make it a loafer’s paradise. The streets down below may seem mere miserable lanes to those of us fromthe West, and the dwelling-places drab and uninspiring; but inside the compounds trees are general, so that Peking from aloft is pleasantly, almost thickly, wooded. Every city, from incessantly grumbling New York to the hillside town with its church- and cow-bells, has a voice of its own, and that of Peking resembles no other I have ever heard. It is made up mainly of street-cries, from venders, rickshaw-men asking right of way, from shouting carriage out-runners, never completely blending together but still retaining a certain individuality, so that from the top of her wall Peking sounds like the tail-end of some great football game, with the victorious rooters still sporadically shouting their pæans of glee as they disperse to the four points of the compass.