PREFACE
Less than three years ago I made a journey with a friend, Miss MacDougall, across the Chinese Empire from north-east to south-west, and while my interests in the changes going on there was intensified, a profound anxiety took possession of my mind as to the effect these changes would produce in the national life. The European and other Powers who had wrangled over the possibility of commercial and political advantages to be obtained from the Chinese Government (after the Boxer troubles) have withdrawn to a certain extent, but like snarling dogs dragged from their prey, they still keep covetous eyes upon it, and both Russia and Japan continue steadily but silently to strengthen their hold upon its borders. These borders are Manchuria and Korea, and it is in this direction that fresh developments must be expected. I read all the available literature bearing on the subject, but so rapidly had the changes occurred that books were already out of date, and they failed to make me see the country as it now is.
As an instance of this, let me quote Whigham’s (correspondent to the Morning Post) “Manchuria and Korea,” published in 1904.[1] “One cannot seriously believe that Japan would ever invade Manchuria, unless, indeed, she be caught by the madness with which the gods first visit those whom they wish to destroy; but if ever her army did occupy Moukden she would only find another Moscow in the ancient capital of the Manchus, and when all is said and done what would be the use? She could never hope to hold the Liao valley for ever against Russia; Great Britain might just as well try to hold Normandy again against France.... The conclusion is that as far as Manchuria is concerned, Russia is even now more or less invulnerable,” &c. &c. This was published the year the Russo-Japanese war took place.
Taking heart of grace by the kind reception of my former book on China, I determined to visit Manchuria and Korea, and to try and describe them by pen and brush as I had described the Face of China. My former fellow-traveller was willing and eager to repeat our wanderings, so we set out on February 1st of this year, 1910, via the Trans-Siberian Railway. Much has been written by various travellers about this part of the journey, but the questions that I wanted answered are mostly ignored by them. Baedeker is wholly inadequate. I begin therefore my tale from the point where we crossed the border into Manchuria, so as to give more continuity to the narrative and avoid repetition. On our return journey across Siberia I give details which may possibly be of service to those who intend travelling on that line, and also the general information about the condition of the country at the present time, which I have gathered from reliable sources since my return.
When we started for our four months’ tour we had no intention of extending it to Turkestan, but finding that a railway line connected it with the one on which we were travelling, and that it could be reached in three days from Samara on the Trans-Siberian line, we decided to include it in our programme and so vary the journey home. It proved to be of extraordinary artistic interest, not to mention its historical importance both as the centre of Moslem learning and of Russian experiments in civilizing Central Asia. Russia looks with a jealous eye upon the traveller, and a special permit has to be obtained in order to travel through Turkestan, even on the railway line. Not only is it necessary to apply for this through the British Embassy at St. Petersburg, but several weeks elapse before a notification can be received that the Russian Government graciously permits the traveller to cross Turkestan. We were informed also that when all these formalities had been duly observed, the traveller was still liable to be stopped by the police on the ground that they (the police) had not received official notice of the traveller’s coming, and in that case he would be ordered to return by the way he came. Despite this discouraging information we determined to try our luck, and in due course received a “note verbale” from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at St. Petersburg, addressed to the British Embassy, permitting us to visit Tashkent, Samarkand, and Bokhara. In point of fact our difficulty proved to be not that of getting in, but that of getting out of Russian territory, as will be seen later on.
Despite the difficulties, Russian Turkestan is well worth visiting, and had the scope of this book permitted, I should like to have added further illustrations of Samarkand. All the illustrations suffer from lack of time, and the earlier ones from the inclemency of the weather, but they are an attempt to show as accurately as possible what the countries and people are like, and especially to give correct colouring, in this way supplementing the photographs with which many previous works on these countries have been illustrated.
We were warned before undertaking the journey that great dangers would lie in our path. I should indeed regret depriving the arm-chair critic of the pleasure of threatening us with tigers, brigands, Hun Hutzes, and the lowest class of Japanese ruffian, or of his special satisfaction in shaking his head over the follies of those who run into unnecessary danger; but in the interest of other travellers I must confess that we met none of these things, though doubtless it would have added to the piquancy of the narrative to have done so. The only striped beasts we saw in the forests were chipmunks, and the only people who were to be feared were the monks in a certain Buddhist monastery.
I cannot omit a word of thanks to the many missionaries who helped to make our journey such a pleasant one, and without whose kindly aid we should have missed a large part of its interest. The Medical Mission work of the Irish and Scotch Presbyterians in Manchuria, and the various branches of work of American and Australian Presbyterians in Korea have been briefly described in this book, but their profound value can only be appreciated by those who have come in personal contact with them. In the troublous times of the last decade they have proved their worth, and I only hope that the ominous cloud still overhanging the land may be dispersed and a time of prosperous growth succeed the trials which they have triumphantly endured.
As I write these words the June number World’s Work falls into my hands, and I read what Japanese writers have to say upon the Manchurian question. Adachi Kinnosuke points out that, despite the immense financial strain of the war with Russia, Japan has trebled her army and strengthened her navy to an equal extent during the few years that have elapsed since that struggle, which cost her the lives of 300,000 men. The reason which he assigns for these military preparations is the necessity of being able to face China. At the close of the Russo-Japanese war Baron Komura tried to induce the Chinese Government to open Manchuria to Japanese colonists, but as Manchuria is imperatively needed by China for her own surplus population, which are pouring into it daily by thousands in the early spring, it was only natural that she should resent the proposal, and refuse to grant the desired permission. Hence the present attitude of Japan. “If you do not allow our people to colonise Manchuria peacefully, there is only one thing for us to do: to enter it anyhow.” Yet the density of population in Japan at the present time is considerably less than that of Great Britain, of Belgium, of Holland, of Saxony, of Alsace Lorraine, of Hesse, of Baden; not to mention other non-European countries. The new Russo-Japanese Alliance is concerned mainly with their railways, and Japan insists on China relinquishing her project of a railway into Mongolia. Now it is an open secret that Russia is to have a railway direct from Irkutsk to Peking—the inference is obvious. The situation is an interesting one; but I have neither the knowledge nor the impertinence requisite for prophesying the course of events. My object will be attained if I can in any way succeed in describing the condition of affairs at the present moment.
The latest step in advance is the annexation of Korea, the highroad into Manchuria.
August 26, 1910.