FOOTNOTES:
[96] See pp. [336], [371]-[7], [382], [386] seq.
[98] The same tendency, with the same result, showed itself in Burma after the annexation to the Indian Empire.
[99] This process, whereby the expelled one ceases to enjoy the rights to which his birth entitles him, is known as ch'u tsu,—"expulsion from the clan."
[100] A tiao is at present worth approximately eighteenpence.
[101] Half a tiao.
[102] Silk-worms are fed on the leaves of the scrub-oak on the open hillsides.
[103] Literally, "not clear" (pu ming).
[104] Han tao mi.
[105] The Government fruit-grower has recommended the Black Hamburgh, Muscat of Alexandria and Malaya—which ripen in succession—as the best varieties of table-grapes for Weihaiwei, while of wine-grapes the most satisfactory are the Mataro, Alicante Bouschet, Black Malvoise, Grenache, Zinfandel, Charbons and Johannesburg Riesling.
[107] The local Government—not very wisely from the point of view of sound economics—levies small "wharfage-dues" on imported timber.
[108] This is the pai-la shu so well known in Ssŭch'uan in connection with the insect-wax industry, which is also carried on to a small extent in Shantung though not in Weihaiwei.
[109] Probably the finest specimen of the ginkgo or maidenhair tree in the Territory is that in the grounds of Pei-k'ou Temple. Besides being very tall, it measures fourteen and a half feet in circumference five feet from the ground. See p. [381] for remarks on another of these trees.
[110] For temporary purposes of trade.
[111] Sale of children by starving parents is a painful feature of famines in some parts of China.
[112] This criticism from a Chinese writer is interesting, when we remember that the practice is much the same throughout the greater part of the Empire.
[113] This is exceptionally rare at the present time. The overwhelming majority of women are married before the age of twenty-five.
[114] Mercenary views are held all the same.
[115] In proportion to the population there are very few concubines in Weihaiwei, and most of them are imported from Peking and other places.
[116] It is a curious fact, and one never yet satisfactorily explained, that people of non-European races all seem to lose their native grace of manner after a period of contact with Europeans. This does not apply to Asiatic peoples (Indian and Chinese) only: it is apparently equally true with regard to certain African races. Miss Bleek, in a recent work published by the Clarendon Press under the auspices of the Royal Anthropological Institute, remarks that the Bushmen are by nature truthful, clean, honest and courteous. "Once another Bushman visited ours for a few days. He was so much rougher than the other that our man was asked why his friend was different. He said, 'Missis must excuse: this man lost his parents early and was brought up by white people.'"
[117] The United States and China, by Wei-ching W. Yen (American Association for International Conciliation: New York).
[118] See illustration.
[119] See illustration. The T'ien Kou is the Japanese Tengu. See Trans. As. Soc. Jap. Pt. ii (1908).
[120] For the magic uses of peach-wood see De Groot's Religious System of China, vol. iv. pp. 304 seq.
[121] "I see no race of men, however polished and educated, however brutal and barbarous, which does not believe that warnings of future events are given, and may be understood and announced by certain persons." Cicero's words, after the lapse of a couple of thousand years, are still true. (See Cic. de Divinatione, i. 1.)
[122] A very similar method of divining is practised in the Malay States. See Swettenham's Malay Sketches, pp. 201-7, and Skeat's Malay Magic, p. 542.
[123] The following remarks in Dennys's Folk-lore of China (pp. 56 seq.) will be of interest to those who are wise enough to regard this subject with unorthodox seriousness: "Divination is in China as popular as, and probably more respectable than, it was amongst the Israelites in the days of the witch of Endor, and it is not perhaps going too far to say that there is not a single means resorted to in the West by way of lifting the impenetrable veil which hides the future from curious mankind which is not known to and practised by the Chinese. From 'Pinking the Bible' to using the Planchette, from tossing for odd and even to invoking spirits to actually speak through crafty media, the whole range of Western superstition in this regard is as familiar to the average Chinaman as to the most enthusiastic spiritualist at home. The coincidences of practice and belief are indeed so startling that many will doubtless see in them a sort of evidence either for their truthfulness, or for a common origin of evil.... It is when we come to the consulting of media, the use of a forked stick, writing on sand, and similar matters that the Chinese practice becomes singular in its resemblance to superstitions openly avowed at home. I would here remark that I am no spiritualist. But how, without any apparent connection with each other, such beliefs should at once be found in full force in the farthest East and the extreme West is puzzling. Is our Western spiritualism derived from China?" It may be added that Japanese "occultism"—to use a disagreeable but useful word—is very similar to Chinese, and offers equally striking analogies with that of Europe. (See Percival Lowell's Occult Japan.)
[124] It is not so well known that almost equally disgusting medicines used to be prescribed in England. One writer says of some old Lincolnshire remedies for ague that they "were so horribly filthy that I am inclined to think most people must have preferred the ague, or the race could hardly have survived." One of these remedies consisted of nine worms taken from a churchyard sod and chopped up small. (See County Folk-lore, vol. v, p. 117.)
[125] Tylor, Primitive Culture (4th ed.), vol. i. p. 84. On this subject see also Dennys's Folk-lore of China, pp. 51-2.
[126] "If the first person who enters a house on New Year's morning brings bad news, it is a sign of ill-luck for the whole of the year."—County Folk-lore: Lincolnshire, p. 168.
[127] The knots or joints of the hemp-stalk are supposed to represent successive stages of advancement.
[128] Ying ch'un. The ceremonies differ from place to place in minor details. Those here described are observed (with variations) at the district cities nearest to Weihaiwei-namely Wên-têng, Jung ch'êng and Ning-hai.
[129] Ch'un Niu.
[130] In Shanghai, and probably elsewhere, a real ox is still sometimes used, and he is led by a real child (T'ai Sui) instead of a cardboard Mang-Shên. See the Rev. A. Box's "Shanghai Folk-lore" in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (China Branch), vol. xxxiv. (1901-2) pp. 116-7, and vol. xxxvi. (1905) pp. 136-7. Needless to say, no blood is shed nowadays, though it seems not unlikely that at one time a living child and a living ox were both offered up in sacrifice to promote the fertility of the crops. In Northumberland, England, it is or used to be a custom to hold rustic masquerades at the New Year, the players being clothed in the hides of oxen (see County Folk-lore, vol. iv.). It would be interesting to know whether the Northumbrian custom was originally a ceremony to promote fertility.
[131] Probably the Spring Ox is still, in some parts of China, made of clay only, not of paper.
[132] Shang Yüan Chieh, Feast of the First Full Moon.
[133] Cf. pp. [262] seq. From Gibbon's Decline and Fall (vol. i. p. 344) we know that long after the establishment of Christianity there was kept up, in Europe, a pagan festival at which it was customary to decorate the doors of houses with branches of laurel and to hang out lanterns. The doors of Roman houses were regarded as being under the special protection of the household gods.
[134] Yüan hsiao.
[135] For some interesting notes on the bridge-walking customs, see Rev. E. Box's "Shanghai Folk-lore," in the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society (China Branch), vol. xxxvi. (1905) pp. 133-4. These practices are not confined to China. In Korea, on the fourteenth and fifteenth of the first month the men and boys of Seoul walk over three particular bridges in succession, in order to safeguard themselves from pains in the legs and feet throughout the ensuing year. (See article by T. Watters in Folk-lore, March 1895.) For the beliefs of many races on the subject of the expulsion of evils in general, see Frazer's Golden Bough (2nd ed.), vol. iii. pp. 39 seq., 70 seq.
[136] This may be compared with the Scottish customs in connection with the guisers or guisards. In Shetland a torchlight procession sometimes formed part of the revelry. (See Folk-lore, vol. iii. [Orkney and Shetland], pp. 203 seq.)
[137] For remarks on the supposed remarkable properties of this shrub, see De Groot's Religious System of China, vol. iv. p. 320.
[138] See County Folk-lore, vol. iv. (Northumberland) p. 73.
[139] In different parts of the Empire the date is variously assigned to the second, tenth, twelfth and fifteenth of the month. For Shanghai customs in connection with this festival, see Rev. A. Box, Journal of the R.A.S. (China), vol. xxxiv. p. 117 and vol. xxxvi. pp. 137-8. In that part of China "the women and children adorn the flowering shrubs with paper rosettes, and recite verses and prostrate themselves in token of respect and in hope of a fruitful season."
[140] Tylor's Primitive Culture (4th ed.), vol. ii. pp. 277-8, 290 seq., 297 seq., and p. 432. See also Frazer's Golden Bough (2nd ed.), vol. iii. p. 251.
[141] Gomme's Folk-lore Relics of Early Village Life, p. 97.
[142] J. M. Robertson in Religious Systems of the World (8th ed.), p. 369.
[143] In 1910 it falls on April 6, which is the 27th of the second Chinese month.
[144] See illustration.
[146] Instances of similar rain-charms may be found in Frazer's Golden Bough (2nd ed.), vol. i. pp. 188-9.
[147] Tuan Wu or Tuan Yang.
[148] See Frazer's Golden Bough (2nd ed.), vol. iii. pp. 268, 270, 274 and especially pp. 337-8. See also Folk-lore Journal, vol. iii. p. 148.
[149] There is supposed to be some magic efficacy attached to brooms, and evil spirits are believed to have a special dread of them. In Europe, as every one knows, a witch must have her broomstick just as she must have her black cat.
[150] Kuei Chieh.
[151] The so-called Indian ink ordinarily used by Chinese.
[152] The ordinary Chinese name is Chung Yüan, a reference being understood to the Shang Yüan, or the fifteenth of the first month, and the Hsia Yüan or the fifteenth of the tenth.
[153] Cf. the offerings to Ashtoreth the Moon-goddess of the Hittites. For mention of similar offerings in England itself, see Dennys's Folk-lore of China, p. 28.
[154] There is a play on this Chinese word, which has the same sound as a different character meaning to go up or to receive promotion. He who eats the cake is supposed to be securing his own advancement in life. There is a similar double-meaning in the phrase têng kao.
[155] For remarks on the ancient custom of drinking this wine, see De Groot, Religious System of China, vol. iv. p. 322.
[157] There is some reason to believe that the Hearth-god was once regarded as an anonymous ancestor of the family, though nowadays this relationship is ignored. The Chinese Tsao shên may be compared with the Japanese Kojin. For some valuable notes on Hearth-worship in general, see Gomme's Folk-lore Relics of Early Village Life, pp. 87 seq. The cult of a hearth-god has been known in western Europe and also in New Zealand.
CHAPTER IX
THE WOMEN OF WEIHAIWEI
The reader who has already learned from an earlier chapter of this book how frequently women figure in the law-courts, will perhaps be prepared for a not too flattering description of Chinese womankind as represented in the leased Territory. If the litigious and quarrelsome females were typical specimens of their sex it would indeed be difficult to utter a word of truthful praise for the women of Weihaiwei. But it is only fair to remember that it is just the turbulent and masterful females that chiefly come within a British magistrate's range of experience. Chaste and filial daughters, gentle and companionable wives, brave and devoted mothers, bring happiness to multitudes of cottage homes and are to be found in every village; but they seldom come under the official notice of the authorities.
Women in Weihaiwei are, indeed, ignorant of nearly everything that is generally implied by education; they are handicapped from childhood by the thoroughly bad old custom of foot-binding; they know nothing of the world beyond the limits of their own group of villages: yet the lives they lead are probably, as a rule, happy, honourable and useful. The Chinese suppose that a woman's proper sphere is the management of the household affairs and the upbringing of her children: and Chinese women seem as a rule to acquiesce willingly and cheerfully in their lot as thus defined.
The woman's position as wife and mother is a highly honourable one: filial piety—the cardinal Chinese virtue—is owed to the mother as much as to the father, and the usual sacrificial rites are conducted in honour of the maternal as well as the paternal ancestors of the family. From prehistoric times the dignity of the mother has been regarded in China as hardly inferior to that of the father,[158] subject of course to the father's headship of the family. It would be a great mistake to suppose that Chinese women are brutally or tyrannically treated by their husbands. That cases of ill-treatment of women are sometimes met with is undoubted, but as a rule the tyrant is not the husband but some female member of the husband's family. Mothers-in-law are the domestic tyrants of rural China. Besides treating the wife with severity they often place the husband in a most unhappy dilemma.
If he wishes, as he often does, to protect his wife from the elder lady's violence or bad temper he runs the risk of being denounced to the neighbours—and perhaps to the local magistrate—as an unfilial son; if he weakly and reluctantly takes his mother's side in a domestic disagreement, or if—as is much more frequently the case—he pretends to shut his eyes altogether to the quarrels of his women-folk, the wife of his bosom may in a moment of anger or despair run away from him or commit suicide. The only source of comfort to a young wife who is unfortunate enough to displease her husband's mother is that some day, in the course of nature, she herself will be in the proud position of a mother-in-law. If she is of a cantankerous or tyrannical disposition, or if her temper has been soured by her own domestic troubles, she will then doubtless treat her son's wife with just as little kindness as she received in her own early days of wifehood, and her daughter-in-law will fear and dislike her just as she herself feared and disliked her own husband's mother. Fortunately there are good and benevolent mothers-in-law in Weihaiwei as well as bad ones: and it is only fair to add that it is not always the wife who is meek and submissive and the mother-in-law who wields the iron rod. Sometimes a high-spirited and obstinate young woman will become absolute ruler of the household—including her husband and his parents—before she has lived a month in her new home, though her tenure of authority will always be somewhat precarious until she has given birth to her first son. "Why do you run away from a woman?" I once asked an unhappy husband whose domestic troubles had driven him to the courts. "Is she not your wife, and can you not make her obey you?" The young man's features broadened into a somewhat mirthless smile as he replied, "I am afraid of her. Eight men out of ten are afraid of their wives."
Women, indeed, are at the root of a large proportion of the cases heard in the courts. No insignificant part of the duty of a magistrate in Weihaiwei consists in the taming of village shrews. The number of such women in China is much larger than might be supposed by many Europeans, who regard the average Chinese wife as the patient slave of a tyrannical master. The fact is that Chinese women, in spite of their compressed feet and mincing gait, rule their households quite as effectually as women do in countries further west, and in the lower classes they frequently extend the sphere of their masterful activity to their neighbours' houses as well. The result is not always conducive to harmony. "For ther-as the womman hath the maistrie," wrote one of the keenest students of human nature many centuries ago, "she maketh to muche desray; ther neden none ensamples of this. The experience of day by day oghte suffyse." This is a statement that multitudes of woebegone husbands in Weihaiwei, were they readers of Chaucer, would readily endorse.
The abject terror with which an uncompromising village shrew is regarded by her male relatives and neighbours frequently creates situations which would be somewhat ludicrous if they did not contain an element of pathos. It is only when his women-folk make life insupportable that an afflicted villager takes the step of appealing for magisterial intervention: but the fact that such cases frequently occur seems to indicate that domestic infelicities of a minor order must be very common. "Two months ago," wrote a petitioner, "I bought a piece of land in a neighbouring village, with the intention of building a house on it. Unfortunately, after the purchase was completed I made the discovery that my immediate neighbour was the most riotous female in the whole village. This was a very annoying circumstance to me. However I proceeded to build my house in a lawful and unostentatious manner and hoped I should have no trouble. All went well until one day when the female issued from her house and proceeded to pull my new walls to pieces on the plea that they interfered with the good luck (fêng-shui) of her own habitation. I stood by and requested her in the kindest manner to leave me and my house alone. She repaid me with the most violent abuse. How could I venture to hurl myself against the spears of the enemy? She is the terror of the whole village and her husband dares not interfere with her. I am sorry I ever bought the land, and I had no idea she was to be my neighbour or I should not have done so. I bought a charm to protect me against violent females, and stuck it up on the doorway of my new house, but it does not seem to have worked very well, and it has not frightened her at all. Meanwhile my house is standing in ruins, and I have no remedy unless the Magistrate, who loves the people as if they were his children, will come to the rescue."
This case was settled easily enough. Another bristled with difficulties owing to the fact that the plaintiff, in his petition, avoided any mention whatsoever of his real ground of complaint. "I have fifty mu of land [about eight acres]. I have two sons, the elder Ta-chü, the younger Erh-chü. In the second moon of this year they set up separate establishments[159] and entered upon possession of the ancestral lands. I was at that time in mourning for my wife, and beyond my yang-lao-ti[160] had no means of support for my old age. After they had left me, what with the expenses of my wife's funeral and my own personal requirements I found myself in debt to the extent of sixty tiao [approximately equivalent to six pounds sterling]. My two sons would not pay my debts: on the contrary they drove me out of my own house and refused to give me food. I am hungry and in hardship. My elder son, Ta-chü, at last relented and wanted to do something for me, but he was knocked down by Erh-chü and is confined to bed. I have reasoned with Erh-chü about his evil courses, but every time I do so he only beats me. The whole village is disgusted with his treatment of me but dares not interfere. Now I get wet through when it rains and I have to beg for a living. There is no rest for me. My lot has fallen in hard places. This son of mine is no better than a hsiao ching.[161] Is this the way to preserve the sacred human relationships?"
In this circumstantial petition no word of complaint is made against the real offender—the petitioner's second son's wife, who, as I soon ascertained, was a shrew of the worst order. To bring the action nominally against his second son was a clever device on the part of the petitioner, for no Chinese magistrate dare—except in almost unheard-of circumstances—take the word of a son against his own father, and an unfilial son is one of the worst of criminals. The old man presumed, therefore, that the case would be at once decided in his favour, and that his son would be imprisoned. His son's wife, the shrew, would then have been compelled to make reparation for her former misconduct and undertake to become a reformed character. When she had done this the old man would return to the magistrate and obtain her husband's release. As it happened, the process was not so circuitous as this, for the woman's misdeeds were discovered by the independent action of the court, and it was she, not her husband, who was sent to gaol. She was released as soon as her own father's family had come forward and entered—very reluctantly—into a bond to guarantee her future good conduct.
It must be remembered that as soon as a woman has left her father's roof and passes under the care of her husband—or rather of her husband's parents, if they are still alive—her father's family have no longer any legal control over her. Her husband's father and brothers become to all intents and purposes her own father and brothers: and to her father-in-law she owes the complete obedience that before marriage she owed to her father. She has in fact changed her family. Yet if she prove "unfilial"—that is, disobedient to her husband's family—a magistrate may call upon her father's family to go security for her future good conduct, on the ground that her unfilial behaviour must be due to her bad bringing-up, for which her father's family is responsible.
An English historian once pointed out that when two men sit on the same horse both of them cannot ride in front at the same time. The reference was to politics, the intimation being that there cannot be two co-ordinate controlling powers in the active government of the State: but the remark applies equally well to family life. If Crown and Parliament (or two separate Houses of Parliament) cannot have co-equal powers in the body-politic, neither can a man and a woman have co-equal powers in the body-domestic: as there must be a supreme authority in the State, so there must be a supreme authority in the Family. Such used to be the theory of Englishmen, and such is still the theory of the Chinese. They have a proverb which recalls Gardiner's criticism of Clarendon's constitutional ideal. The Chinese say: "One horse cannot carry two saddles; the loyal servant cannot serve two masters."[162] But though in China the husband is legally possessed of very extensive powers over his wife and has every right to administer corporal punishment if she disobeys him or fails to treat his parents with proper respect, it is very rarely indeed that one hears of such powers being exercised in Weihaiwei.[163] No Chinese husband within my experience at Weihaiwei has ever been convicted of wife-beating: whereas the physical castigation of husbands by wives is by no means unheard of.
The northern Chinese use a curious and highly appropriate expression to describe a woman of the shrew type. They call her a ma-chieh-ti or "Curse-the-street woman." This is the kind of female who by blows or threats drives her husband out of the house, follows him into the road, and there—if he has sought safety in flight—proceeds to pour torrents of abuse at the top of her voice upon her male and female neighbours and all and sundry passers-by. If the village street happens to be entirely empty she will address her remarks to the papered windows, on the chance of there being listeners behind them. As a rule the neighbours will come out to "see the fun." The abused persons generally refrain from repartee, and the men—taking care to keep out of reach of the nails of the ma-chieh-ti—gaze at her pensively and with impassive features until her spent voice fades into a hoarse whisper or physical exhaustion lays her helpless on the ground. But some quarrelsome female neighbour—herself no mean mistress of words—will often delight in advancing to a contest which is almost sure to end in bleeding faces and torn clothes. Then husbands and grandfathers are reluctantly compelled to intervene, and "peace-talkers" will help to coax the two infuriated combatants into calmness. If their efforts are unavailing, the result may be either a suicide or a lawsuit.
Women of this type feel themselves at home in the courts, and a fit of anger will often send them hobbling off to the magistrate with some trumpery and usually false accusation against a relation or a neighbour. Such was a case brought by one Liu Hsia Shih against a harmless old man whose real offence was that he had recommended her to look after her babies instead of "cursing the street." I despatched a constable to make enquiries into the matter, and she promptly handed him the princely sum of one dollar with the suggestion that he should give me a report favourable to herself. In accordance with very strict regulations relating to bribery, the constable paid the money into court. I summoned the parties to the suit, rebuked the female for attempted bribery, and in dismissing her frivolous action adjudged the dollar to her adversary. Probably the fact that he had got her money was in her view even more exasperating than the loss of her case.
Very frequently a ma-chieh-ti who brings her imagined wrongs to court will point to wounds and scratches on her face and body as evidence that she has been assaulted: whereas the injuries have been in all probability self-inflicted. One Liang Wang Shih brought complaints of ill-treatment against her adopted grandson and his wife. "They behave in a most cruel manner," she said. "He incites her to bite me. She bites my shoulder." She then proceeded partially to disrobe herself in order that the supposed marks of her grand-daughter's teeth might be inspected by the court. Another querulous woman forcibly prevented a neighbour from putting a wall round his own vegetable-garden. "I recently built a new house," explained her unfortunate neighbour. "This woman's grandson died soon afterwards, and she declares that it was my new house that killed him, by spoiling the fêng-shui of her family. She says she will not let me build my garden-wall until I restore her grandson to life."
The marriage customs of Weihaiwei being in principle identical with those prevailing in other parts of China, a detailed description of them would be out of place here. It will be sufficient to say that nearly every one gets married a few years after arrival at a marriageable age, the bridegroom being as a rule rather older than the bride. The majority of marriages are the outcome of long-standing betrothals. A betrothal is in practice as binding as a marriage; indeed, a betrothal that took place in the babyhood of both the principals may, in certain circumstances, be regarded as an actual marriage. If, for example, the youth dies when of marriageable age but before the marriage has taken place, and if he was at the same time an only son, the betrothed girl (whom he may or may not have seen) will often be recognised as his legal wife; and if she preserves her "widowhood" with fidelity her name will appear beside his own on the tombstone and in the family registers. If the girl declares at the death of her betrothed that she is willing to be regarded as his widow, it then becomes possible (in accordance with an old and very curious custom) for the dead youth and his living wife to be provided with a "son" by adoption, and this "son"—who will probably be a young nephew—nominally acts as principal mourner at the funeral, inherits the deceased's share of the family property, and carries on the rites of ancestral worship. If the girl or her family decline (as very naturally they usually do) to recognise the betrothal contract as binding after the bridegroom's death, the parents of the dead youth will proceed to find him a bride in the person of a dead girl. This girl must have died unmarried and should be of suitable age and family: that is to say, a youth and maiden who could not have been betrothed to each other in life should not be joined in matrimony after death.[164]
The arrangements for a wedding of this extraordinary nature are not carried out directly by the parents of the dead boy and girl, but through middlemen appointed by them (known as kuei mei or "ghostly go-betweens"), and many of the other formalities which attend an ordinary marriage are observed with scrupulous care. If the girl has already been buried in the graveyard of her own family her body is exhumed and reburied beside that of the dead bridegroom: and on the tombstone erected at the foot of the grave are duly carved their two names as those of husband and wife. The custom is extremely old: it is mentioned in the Chou Li, a book which deals with the laws and customs of China from the twelfth century B.C. onwards. Its origin may perhaps be traced to the same notions that lay at the root of the widely-prevalent Oriental custom of widow immolation or sati: the theory being that the sacrifice of widows and slaves at the tomb of a dead man provided him in the comfortless world of shades with the companionship to which he had been accustomed in life. But this strange system of weddings between the dead is practised to-day in Weihaiwei only in order to secure the perpetuation of the sacrificial rites connected with the ancestral cult and to bring about a suitable partition of the family property.
If a youth dies unmarried and is an only son, the necessary consequence would appear to be the extinction of the family or the particular branch which the deceased represented. To prevent the occurrence of such a calamity it is necessary in China to provide the deceased with a son by formal adoption. But the matter-of-fact Chinese mind declines to contemplate the possibility of adopting a son for one who, being a bachelor, was not in a position to have a legitimate heir in the ordinary process of nature. It is therefore necessary to begin by providing him with a wife; and this is done by the peculiar arrangement just described, known locally as ka (or chieh) ssŭ ch'in—the "celebration of a dead marriage." As a rule it is not difficult for parents to find a suitable wife for their dead son, for the family of a girl who has died unmarried will always be glad to have their deceased daughter raised to the honourable status of a married woman. Sometimes, however, complicating circumstances arise. A man named Yü Huai-yüeh died, without children and unmarried, in the tenth year of Kuang Hsü—corresponding to 1884. At that time he had brothers living, and as the family was in no danger of extinction it was not considered necessary to take further action. During subsequent years the brothers also died without issue, and the sorrowing relatives of the family decided in 1897 that Yü Huai-yüeh should at last be provided with a wife. In due time it was reported by "ghostly go-betweens" that a bride with a suitable horoscope was to be found in the family of Hsia of the neighbouring village of Chao Chia. This was a girl who had died as long ago as 1876. In spite of the disparity of the dates of death the ceremony was duly performed: thus a bride who had been in her grave for more than a generation was wedded to a bridegroom who died thirteen years before his own marriage.
In ordinary cases the repudiation of a betrothal contract while the principals are both living is by law and custom visited by heavy penalties. Paradoxical as the statement may appear, it is often easier in China to get rid of a wife after the marriage ceremony has taken place than to jilt her during the period of betrothal. There is little or no romance about a Chinese engagement. The parents of bride and bridegroom may or may not be known to each other; as a rule they are strangers, for a girl is rarely married to a resident in her own village. The reasons for this are not far to seek. As we have seen, a typical Weihaiwei village is composed of persons of one surname. The "prohibited degrees" in China are far more comprehensive than those set forth in the English Book of Common Prayer. All persons of the same surname are regarded as blood relations, and as such they cannot intermarry. The father of a family must therefore find husbands and wives for his children in some village other than his own. In accordance with venerable custom, regular marriages are negotiated neither by the parties chiefly concerned nor by their parents. Betrothals are always in practice arranged through go-betweens or middlemen (mei jên) who are understood to be the disinterested friends of both the contracting parties. In return for their services they receive various little presents and welcome invitations to sundry little feasts.[165]
THREE WOMEN AND A HAYRICK (see p. [207]).
THREE GENERATIONS—AT THE VILLAGE GRINDSTONE
(see p. [246]).
It is often declared that in China the bridegroom never has a chance of seeing his bride or making her acquaintance until the fateful moment when she raises her bridal veil: and many are the sad stories told of the bitter disappointment of the girl who unexpectedly finds that her husband is a decrepit old man, or the ardent young bridegroom who suddenly realises that he is lord of an ugly or sour-faced wife instead of the dainty beauty described by the deceitful go-between. But such regrettable incidents are rare in rural China. It is true that marriage is hardly ever preceded by love-making, and that young people have as a rule absolutely no say in the important matter of the choice of a husband. Yet the women of the farming classes in a rural district such as Weihaiwei are by no means concealed from public view; if a young man does not catch a sight of his betrothed at some village festival or a theatrical performance he is sure to have many opportunities of beholding her at work in the fields at harvest time or washing clothes at the side of the local brook. Sometimes, indeed, the young couple grow up together in the same household almost like brother and sister. This happens when, after child-betrothal has taken place, the girl's parents die or are too poor to keep her. She then passes to the bridegroom's family and is theoretically supposed to be brought up as a daughter of the house, though sometimes she is treated as a mere servant or drudge. Such a girl is known as a t'uan-yüan hsi-fu. As an orphan, or the daughter of poor or helpless parents, she is expected to cultivate a more than usually meek and respectful demeanour towards the parents of her betrothed, and to be "thankful for small mercies." When the boy's parents (for the boy himself has no say in the matter) decide that a fitting time for the marriage has arrived, it is customary for the girl to be sent temporarily to the care of some relative, where she remains until the wedding-day. This is in order that in accordance with the usual custom she may enjoy the privilege of being carried to her husband's home in a red marriage-chair. In such a case as this the bride and bridegroom are of course well acquainted with each other's personal appearance and disposition, and have good reason to know, before the wedding takes place, whether their married life is likely to be a happy one. If the prospects are adverse, the bridegroom-elect can only escape his doom by running away, for the betrothal cannot be repudiated. The bride, poor child, has no choice in the matter one way or another.
Marriages in Weiheiwei—in spite of the optimistic dictum of the Chinese chronicler already quoted—are very often, like marriages elsewhere, negotiated in a mercenary spirit and with a keen eye to "business." The Roman coemptio was undoubtedly in origin a system of marriage by purchase; and perhaps the practice if not the theory is in many Western countries the same to-day. In rural China the average father wants to procure for his son the best possible wife at the lowest possible cost; the girl's father wants to give his daughter to the family that will allow him the largest compensation for his own outlay. The financial part of the arrangements is so prominent in the minds of the plain-speaking peasants of Weihaiwei that they will talk of buying and selling their wives and daughters in much the same way as they would talk of dealing in farm produce at the neighbouring market. The local practice (as apart from the law of China) in matters concerning marriage is in some respects curious. "My wife has run away from me," stated a petitioner. "She lived with me nearly three years. I know where she is, but I cannot make her come back to me because I originally got her for nothing. She left me because I was too poor. She took away with her nothing that was not her own. I have no complaint to make against her."
The people of Weihaiwei know nothing of regular divorce proceedings. The man whose wife deserts him or runs away with another man may proceed to take unto himself a second wife without the least fear of a Crown prosecution for bigamy. Under Chinese law a man may, indeed, regularly divorce his wife for a variety of offences—including rudeness to his parents and talkativeness—but in Weihaiwei few husbands avail themselves of their rights in this respect; in the first place the husband is reluctant—especially if he is still childless—to lose the lady for whom he or his parents paid a good round sum in cash, and, secondly, he is afraid of getting into trouble with her family, who will quite probably drag him before the magistrate on a charge of brutal treatment of a gentle and long-suffering wife—their object being to "save face" and to extract from the husband substantial pecuniary compensation. If his wife's family is numerous and wealthy, the unhappy man who is wedded to an untamable shrew is often driven to desperate expedients to break his chains. He may, indeed, emigrate to Peking or Manchuria—the usual resorts of persons who find life unbearable in Weihaiwei—but this will only result in shifting the trouble from his own shoulders to those of his parents or brothers.
Only a few days before the penning of these lines a man named Shih Kuan-yung came to report to me the mysterious death of his younger brother. "His wife treated him shamefully," was the story. "He bore it for several years, but the breaking-point came two days ago. He then went off to his father-in-law's house, and yesterday he died there." On inquiry it turned out that the wretched man, after an unusually bitter passage of words with his wife, swallowed a dose of poison and then went off to die in his wife's father's house as a protest against his wife's bad conduct and as a sure means of bringing trouble upon her relations. His brother suggested to the court that he, as the deceased's only surviving relative, should be empowered to sell the widow and pocket the proceeds as a solace for his bereavement. The court refused to act upon this suggestion, but satisfied public opinion by imposing a moderate punishment on the lady's family and compelling it to defray all the expenses of the funeral.
The fact that the husband in this case could think of no better means of punishing his wife than by dying on her father's doorstep shows that though a woman on marriage theoretically passes from one patria potestas to another and thenceforward belongs solely to her husband's family or p'o chia, her father's family or niang-chia may in certain circumstances retain considerable influence over her destiny as a married woman; and if the family is rich and influential it may make matters intensely disagreeable for the husband and his relations should the woman find her new home less comfortable than the old one. The woman whose niang-chia is poor and without influence (as we have seen in the case of a t'uan-yüan hsi-fu) rarely dares to hold her head high or treat her p'o chia with contempt. She knows that henceforth it will be to her own interest to please her husband and his parents as far as in her lies, for she can look for no help from her father's family in the event of trouble. It is a terrible grief to a young married woman to know that her own family has made up its mind to take no further interest in her. A headman once reported to me that a woman in his village, recently married, had committed suicide simply because when the time came for her to pay the first ceremonial visit to her father and mother after her wedding, no one was sent (in accordance with the usual custom) from her old home to escort her thither. For several days she moped and moaned, her incessant cry being, "I have no niang-chia, I have no niang-chia"; and one day her husband found her hanging dead from a peg in the wall.
Sometimes a girl's family will evince no interest whatever in her doings as a married woman until her suicide gives them an opportunity of showing that "blood is thicker than water." If they do not demand a magisterial enquiry into the cause of death they will at least keep a careful eye on the funeral arrangements and prevent the widower's family from carrying them out with insufficient splendour or too much regard to economy. An expensive funeral on such an occasion is satisfactory to the dead woman's relations from two points of view: it reflects glory on themselves and gives them "face," and it serves as a costly punishment for the bereaved husband who has to pay the bill.
Though nearly every one in Weihaiwei, as in the rest of China, gets married sooner or later, it sometimes happens that through the early death of his betrothed or some other unavoidable cause a man finds himself still unmarried at an age when his contemporaries are the proud parents of large families. The older he is the harder will it be for him to contract a marriage through the customary process of a formal betrothal. He may indeed find a widow who is open to receive an advantageous offer; but in China it is not considered creditable or fitting for a widow to re-marry unless dire poverty compels her to do so. The model Chinese widow is expected to serve and cherish her late husband's parents as long as they live, and to devote her spare time to the careful upbringing of her own children. A woman's second marriage is not attended by the pomp and circumstance of the first. It is only once in her life that a Chinese woman is entitled to sit in the red chair of a bride. A common practice for an elderly bachelor of Weihaiwei is to entrust a friend in Peking or some other large centre of population with the task of procuring a wife for him by the simple expedient of cash-purchase. The friend buys the woman and brings her back to Weihaiwei on one of his return visits; and, as he will very likely have been entrusted with several similar commissions, he will possibly return with a bevy of damsels of varying charms and widely different ages and degrees of comeliness. He is not, of course, expected to go through his trouble for nothing; and indeed the business is regarded as so lucrative that some men will secretly tout for commissions to buy wives, and will go from Weihaiwei to Peking for that express purpose.
The practice is, of course, highly discreditable to every one concerned. It is a punishable offence in China, and is sternly reprobated and discouraged by the British Government. As far as the women themselves are concerned, however, the abuses that attend the system are less serious than might be expected. In most cases they are the daughters of extremely poor parents who cannot afford to support them. By becoming the wives of poor but honest and respectable farmers in a district like Weihaiwei, their position has certainly changed for the better. Most of them are thoroughly cognisant of this fact; indeed, it is rarely that they express a desire to leave their new homes even when the Government offers them a free passage back to their native place. Their position, be it remembered, is not a dishonourable one. Though not always married according to the prescribed rites, they are by general consent regarded as wives, and their children inherit the family property as legitimate heirs. Sometimes, indeed, a poor girl from Peking, who has been led to expect that she is being taken to a rich young husband, feels a pang of bitter disappointment when she finds herself face to face with a poor and elderly man whose entire savings have been exhausted by the purchase of herself; yet in nine cases out of ten she accepts with resignation what the gods have given her, and settles down to the quiet life of a well-behaved matron. It is indeed to the interest of the woman's purchaser that he should treat her with kindness, for if she becomes seriously dissatisfied she may cause him endless discomfort.
Not long ago eight men came to the South Division court at Weihaiwei with a petition on behalf of one of their relatives, Yü K'o-chih, who was married to a woman named Chao Shih, imported from Peking. She had been selected and purchased for him in Peking by his brother, Yü K'o-shun. Now this woman, explained the petitioners, was unfortunately addicted to the luxurious habits and customs in vogue at the capital, and took no pains to adapt herself to the simple life of Weihaiwei. Chao Shih was, in fact, a self-willed person who did exactly what she chose, and when any one remonstrated with her she threatened to run away. Matters remained in this unsatisfactory condition until she at last carried out her threat and disappeared. She was traced to Weihaiwei city, a distance of about twelve miles. Her husband's brother, Yü K'o-shun,[166] accompanied by some of his relatives, went in pursuit of the fugitive, tracked her to her hiding-place, and hired a cart to convey her back to her husband. She resolutely refused to get into the cart and also declined to accept the alternative of riding a mule. She was finally carried off by force and the party set out on the homeward journey. Unfortunately the woman kicked and screamed incessantly, thereby making such a disturbance on the highway that a detective who happened to meet the noisy procession came to the conclusion that it was a case of kidnapping, and promptly arrested the whole party. The petitioners now requested that since the matter had been clearly explained the magistrate would issue an order for the release of the prisoners and allow the troublesome Chao Shih to be returned to the arms of her anxious husband. The magistrate's difficulty in this case was unexpectedly solved by the lady herself, who assured the court that she was weary of a roving life and promised to be a good and dutiful wife for the rest of her days.
Certainly the system of procuring wives from Peking is liable to produce disappointments that are not all on the side of the women. Listen to the tale of woe of one Chung Yen-shêng, a Weihaiwei resident who in an ill-starred hour had decided to obtain for himself a wife from the capital. "I have tried to make the best of her for over two years," he said in court, "but it was no good. When I bought her I didn't know she was an opium-smoker, but she was. I bought her for forty-eight taels (between seven and eight pounds sterling). What with travelling expenses and clothes she cost me altogether seventy taels before she arrived in Weihaiwei. She was a failure. She was very extravagant, and I had to sell some of my land to satisfy her. She suddenly left me of her own accord in the tenth moon of last year. She went to K'ung Chia village. I was glad to get rid of her. She went to the house of K'ung Fu-hsiang. I met him afterwards and I told him he might keep the woman for all I cared, but I wanted some of my money back. He gave me forty-five taels. I think I ought to get sixty, and I have come to court to obtain a judgment against him for the balance of fifteen taels. (Cross-examined) I would not take the woman back on any account. I have no children, but I shall not look for another wife. My younger brother's branch can carry on the ancestral worship of our family."
The old belief, long held by Europeans, that the Chinese habitually practise polygamy probably became extinct some years ago. The fact is, of course, that a Chinese has only one wife, though he may possess legally recognised concubines. Among the agricultural classes in China concubinage is not common, and in Weihaiwei it is comparatively rare. The farmer who takes unto himself a concubine does it not only with the knowledge but usually with the full approval of his wife, and as a duty which (if his wife is childless) he owes to his ancestors. So far as British experience goes in Weihaiwei the practice is not productive of evil effects. If both a wife and a concubine become mothers, the family property, when the time for partition arrives, is divided equally among all the sons without any discrimination.[167] But it sometimes happens that another child is born after the partition (fên-chia[168]) has already taken place. If the mother of such child is the ch'i or wife, the whole of the family property will again be put as it were into the melting-pot and re-divided—the latest-born child being entitled to a share equal to that of each of his brothers. But if the child's mother is only a concubine there will be no repartition, and either the child will be given a portion of his parents' yang-lao-ti[169] or his brothers will be morally obliged to make suitable provision for him out of their respective shares. Practically, therefore, there is very little difference in position between a wife's son and a concubine's son.
A modified form of domestic slavery is occasionally found in Weihaiwei as elsewhere in China: though slavery is indeed much too harsh a term to apply to a form of service which is totally devoid of hardship or degradation. The Chinese are as a rule indulgent masters and are hardly ever (in the part of China with which we are dealing) guilty of deliberate cruelty towards the inferior members of their households. The so-called slaves are generally bought as young girls from poor parents or guardians for the purpose of domestic service. They are treated as subordinate members of the family, and as a rule partake of much the same fare as their masters and mistresses. Their owners are responsible for their good health and moral character, and are expected to help them in due time to obtain respectable husbands. The great majority of the people of Weihaiwei, being only small farmers, are compelled to do their own house-work unaided: slave-girls are thus found only in a few of the most prosperous households. An instance will show that in spite of the indulgent treatment accorded to them, slave-girls are regarded as the absolute property of their purchasers.
A petitioner named Ch'ü Wên-k'uei complained of "the unlawful annexation of a female slave" of whom he declared himself to be the rightful owner. "Five years ago I became by formal adoption the son of my father's elder brother, who died childless. His widow, my adoptive mother, bought a slave-girl two years ago for the sum of one hundred dollars. My aunt and adoptive mother died two months ago and I have inherited her property. The slave-girl is part of the property and therefore by right belongs to me. Unfortunately a short time before her death my adoptive mother lent the slave-girl to the Ts'ung family, and the Ts'ung family now refuses to hand her over to me on the plea that she has been betrothed to one of the little Ts'ungs. As I gave no consent to her betrothal I consider it null and void, and I petition for an order of the court requiring the Ts'ung family to return my slave-girl without further ado." To the surprise of both parties the court allowed the question of her disposal to be decided by the slave-girl herself, and she elected to stay with the family of her betrothed.