We took the train at 11 a.m. for Peking, with every expectation of arriving there at 4 p.m.
Peking, March 18th: The railway trip from Hankow to Peking is not interesting, for it is largely over a vast extent of plain without foliage or vegetation. Occasionally we passed small towns with a few planted trees. The latter part of the way seemed almost like a desert; there being little to observe, one had time to reflect, and, in some inscrutable manner, the immensity of China, its extreme age, its teeming population, and its unreality, judged by Western standards, began to dawn on me. I had previously failed to realize that I was actually in China. Having seen the Chinese at several points before reaching Hong-Kong, that city with its English environment did not impress me greatly. Canton seemed an unrelated place, a kind of a by-play. The Shanghai I knew was modern.
As we approached Peking, we caught a glimpse of the Great Wall, a massive gray bulk, with the immense corner tower, which produced a feeling of awe, standing as though it were an entrance into a city of mystery—a walled town of over twenty miles in circumference which was virtually the product of four walled cities in one. We were housed in the new and spacious Grand Hôtel des Wagons-lits. Our stay was to cover just a little over a week; hence vigorous sight-seeing was at once inaugurated, and the first impression received was the great age of everything that surrounded us.
Peking was made the capital of the whole Empire by Mongol Kublai Khan, the Wise, a munificent ruler who laid the foundation plan of what we see to-day; but the origin of the city dates back some centuries before the Christian era. The Ming Dynasty extended over nearly three centuries; then China, being threatened by an invasion of the Manchus from the north, was aided in her resistance by the Manchus at home, and, through a peculiar combination, they secured possession of the throne and have held it ever since. The foreign rule is hated by the true Chinese.
The four sections of Peking are: (1) The Forbidden City, called the Purple City by the Chinese because formerly only purple mortar was used. It consists virtually of a palace and adjacent buildings, and embraces a population of nearly six thousand. This portion of the city has for ages been closed to foreigners, with the exception of a few months immediately after the Boxer trouble in 1900, when excursions to the Forbidden City were made, photographs secured, and also a small guide-book prepared. (2) The Imperial City surrounds the Forbidden City, and is now in great part closed. (3) The Tartar City surrounds the Imperial City, and is called the "city within" because it lies within the walls. (4) The Chinese or Southern City is south of the Tartar City, and extends somewhat beyond it to the east and west.
Next to the Great Wall, the gateways should demand our interest. There are several, and Hata-men is the one which we frequently passed through. It was always thronged. The most densely crowded entrance, however, was the Chinese gate, Chien-men; here, at times, it was almost impossible for the jinrikisha to make a passage. The street scenes in Peking are wonderful because of their variety, and the length of the streets adds to their picturesqueness, although they are not quite so spectacular as those of Jeypore, India.
Many different styles of dress are seen. I noticed the long flowing robe of the Manchu women, with the Manchu head-dress and a remarkable arrangement of hair on a frame, spreading at the back with a sort of elongated butterfly effect, and held in place by a bright gold hairpin. The bands of hair are brought over in a way to give the impression of long loops, and they are decorated with bright flowers. The Manchu women are taller than the Chinese women, and walk with a statelier tread, as their feet have never been bound, the present Empress many years ago having issued an edict prohibiting that custom. The edict is, however, evaded, as Chinese fathers and husbands insist that the custom be kept up, seeming to imagine that abolishing it would have some peculiar effect on the character of the wife, perhaps resulting in insubordination. The Chinese women part their glossy black hair in the middle, wear it in smooth bands down the side of the forehead, and dress it in the back in a great variety of low loops. They also wear jewelled and gold hairpins that are really very artistic. Their dress consists of the long black sack coat and loose trousers, much like those of a man. The children of Peking, unlike those of the Orient, where clothes are virtually dispensed with, wear long-sleeved, high-necked garments reaching to the feet.