The face of Manchuria, Korea, & Russian Turkestan

by E. G. Kemp

Our first expedition at Moukden was naturally to the Foo Ling tombs to see where the great founder of the Manchu dynasty lies buried. It is disappointing to be unable to gain information as to the date of the tomb, but no doubt the Manchus adopted the architecture and arts of China at an early stage of their conquest.

It was by no means a promising morning when we set out, but our time was limited, and we had persuaded the doctor to take an unwonted holiday from his strenuous labours, so delay was impossible. Where no guide-books are obtainable, it is doubly valuable to have kind friends willing to place their knowledge at your disposal, and doctors are skilful at smoothing other things as well as pillows; in fact I can give no better advice to travellers than to try and secure the help of the medical missionary—the busier the better—as a guide to all that is best worth seeing in the foreign field. Dr. Young had kindly procured for us the requisite permit to visit the tombs, which can only be obtained through the British Consul. We set out in a weird glass chariot, quite suggestive of Cinderella’s coach; it had windows the whole way round, and was lined with mouse-coloured plush, not to mention a fine mirror opposite to us. We had a retainer standing on a step behind, who spent all his time jumping on and off, as he required to lead the horse round every corner and over every obstacle in the road. Passing outside the city we saw an endless stretch of graves beyond graves; then we came to a beautiful park-like place where lilies of the valley grow thickly in the spring—but alas! people are digging them up so ruthlessly, that it is to be feared there will soon be none left. The trees seemed to grow finer and finer as we neared the tombs. The wall surrounding them has been damaged by its occupation during the war, when the Japanese troops took possession and were attacked by the Russians: the wall is riddled by bullets, but it is astonishing how comparatively little damage had been done. The gateway is beautifully decorated with green tiles, and there are handsome large green medallions set in the Venetian red wall. Inside is a fine avenue of hoary trees leading to the main avenue, in which are some curious stone animals; these are so familiar to us by photos and by the description of other travellers, that it is unnecessary for me to attempt it. They form but a detail of the fine effect which is created by the lofty buildings among the trees, enclosed within a high wall. The colouring of the building—mellowed by time—is superb, and as we saw it under the fast falling snow, was most impressive.

Some difficulty attended our entrance despite the permit, but the doctor’s tact overcame it, and once inside they were most civil to us, and became quite interested when I began to sketch. The actual grave of Noorhachu, or Taidsoo, the grandfather of the first Manchu Emperor of China (Ching dynasty 1644), is a lofty mound at the far end of the enclosure, and surrounded by a wall of its own. The entrance by which the ruling Emperor approaches the tomb is very fine, a handsomely carved marble pailow surrounded by trees, and as we looked at the whole group of buildings from the top of the wall, along which there is an excellent walk, they form a most impressive sight. The trees are full of mistletoe, but of a different species from ours; it has either yellow or scarlet berries, and in some trees we saw both varieties.

There are many interesting monuments in Moukden, but I venture to think this is the finest of all. The design is copied from the Ming tombs near Peking, and it is said that it was originally planned to carry away the stone animals from the former in order to use them for the Moukden tombs. This design was frustrated, however, for a descendant of the Mings accidentally heard of it, whereupon he at once went and mutilated all the stone beasts, knocking off the ear of one and the beard from another, and thereby rendering them useless. While this explanation is merely a tradition, the fact remains. The Ming tombs, forty miles north of Peking, are designed on a much larger scale than the Moukden ones, and cover a distance of several miles in length, as compared with acres in the case of the latter. In my opinion this detracts considerably from the effect, as only one detail can be properly seen at a time; first the fine marble pailow of five gateways, then at varying distances other gateways (very dilapidated), then a square tower containing a stone tablet on a tortoise, then a dromos of stone animals and warriors facing one another, with a considerable space between each couple, so that the sixteen couples extend over a space nearly a mile in length. Between them and the tombs is a considerably greater distance, and whereas the above-mentioned memorials are all in a straight line, the thirteen tombs are arranged in a fan shape at the base of the hills which enclose the end of the valley.

These Peking tombs date back to the time of the Ming dynasty, which ended in 1644, and the Moukden tombs are considerably later. Their whole design is taken direct from the former, and there is no attempt to introduce any Manchu characteristics. The reason for this is obvious; the Manchus were emerging from a state of barbarism, and possessed no architecture worthy of the name.

After the tombs the most interesting building at Moukden is the palace, for which also an order has to be obtained through the Consul. We visited it twice.

This palace is thoroughly Chinese in appearance (I failed to ascertain its date, but it is at least some centuries old), with its gorgeous golden roofs and Venetian red walls. The façades are decorated with coloured tiles of great beauty and infinite variety of detail: they challenge comparison with some of the majolica most highly prized in Europe. Under the wide eaves there are finely carved dragons, stretching their sinuous length from end to end. The buildings are ranged court beyond court, with a fine staircase leading to the innermost one at the back. But the main object of the visitor is to see the priceless treasures locked up in its rooms, for they contain the most valuable possessions of the Chinese throne. Unfortunately, when admittance has been obtained, it is not easy to see the treasures, for they are carefully wrapped up in cases, or stacked in hopeless confusion in cupboards, and are taken out one by one and laid on a table for the visitor to see them, and then put away again. First we were shown imperial robes, studded with pearls and jewels, then jade-mounted swords. Jade is considered by the Chinese to be the most precious of all stones, and it is one of the hardest to cut. “It was first brought to England from Spanish America by Sir Walter Raleigh,” says Bushnell (“Chinese Art,” p. 134), and he derived the word “jade” from the Spanish piedra de hijade—“stone of the loins.” Vessels of jade are always used in the Chinese Imperial ritual worship, and must be of various colours, according to the particular ceremonial in which they are employed.

After showing us these things the officials began to lose their distrust, and invited us to come inside the enclosure and peer into the dark cupboards, whence we picked out things that looked particularly attractive, but found that the waning light prevented our doing justice to the opportunity.

It was on our second visit that we were shown the much more valuable collection of bronzes and porcelain, the door to which could only be unlocked after prolonged effort, and in the presence of special officials. Other visitors besides ourselves were anxious to enter, but a special permit was required, and they were sent away disappointed. The porcelain was piled in endless heaps in glass cases, which probably remained unopened for decades, and there was no attempt at classification. The beauty of colour and design could be but imperfectly realised, as sets of bowls or dishes were all piled in one another, so as to occupy the least possible space, and there was but little variety in proportion to the large quantity of china displayed. A visit to the British Museum gives a much better conception of this form of Chinese art. It was much the same case with the bronzes, and it was even more difficult to see them than the china. There was one fine example of the “gold splash,” which is so well represented at the South Kensington Museum in Mr. Behren’s collection. To my great disappointment there was little variety of design. It is to be hoped that the Chinese may be sufficiently imbued by the modern spirit to make them copy (to a certain extent) the arrangement of our museums, so that the art treasures contained in the palace may be more accessible to visitors. Outside the palace were the curious fences known as “deer’s horns,” which are also to be seen at the great tombs and outside official buildings. They are long pieces of wood set at right angles to one another as closely as possible, and running through a long heavy beam. The lower ends of the cross pieces are heavy, and are set into the ground, the upper ones taper to a point: altogether the “deer’s horns” form a strong, though simple, barrier. They are usually painted red.