VIEW IN BHAMÔ.
On the 17th, we were agreeably surprised by the arrival of Mr. Margary, looking none the worse for his long overland journey from Hankow, which he had left on the 4th of last September. But for a delay at Loshan of six days, while waiting for new instructions, he would have accomplished this tremendous journey in just four months. Starting from Hankow, and passing the Tung-ting lake, on the Yang-tse, he had ascended the Yuen river through Hoonan, and travelled by land through Kweichow and Yunnan.
The only real difficulty he experienced was at a town called Chen-yuen, in Kweichow, where the boat journey ended on October 27th. Here the populace endeavoured to prevent the removal of his luggage from the boat, and it was only by means of an appeal to the mandarin, who at first was uncivil but speedily yielded to the power of the passports, and the interference of an armed guard sent by that official, that he was enabled to proceed. It was necessary for him to sleep at the Yamen, and leave the town in the early morning. When the mob learned his departure, they wreaked their vengeance on the boatmen, and destroyed their boat. On his land journey the people were everywhere civil, though intensely curious, and the mandarins polite. He described the scenery in Kweichow as splendid, but the roads rough and ragged, carried almost always at a high level along pine-clad hills overlooking valleys far beneath. The province appeared to have been sadly devastated—the cities reduced to mere villages, and the villages to collections of straw huts; everywhere ruins of good, substantial stone houses abounded to show the former prosperity of the region before the Miaou-tse came down from the hills and butchered the whole population. Although twenty years have elapsed since this incursion, the cities still remain like cities of the dead—their extensive walls surrounding acres of ruins, with a few of the wild hillmen dwelling in them.
His reception by the governor of the province at Kwei-yang-fu was very cordial; and the latter promised to compensate the boatmen for their loss in the destruction of their boat by the Chen-yuen mob. From this city twenty days of steady travelling in a chair, twenty miles a day, over fine mountains and through valleys almost deserted, brought him to Yunnan-fu on November 27th. He met with civility everywhere; but the acting governor-general of Yunnan, who was then locum tenens of the absent viceroy, proved himself a most friendly and indeed an unexpected ally. Not content with loading the Englishman with honours and courtesies, he sent two mandarins to escort him the rest of the way, and despatched an avant-courrier bearing a mandate to all the local authorities, which secured marked respect for the traveller, and also sent a quick courier with orders to the mandarins on the frontier to take care of the expedition in case he should not have met us before our entrance into China. From Yunnan to Tali a dreadfully rough road or track of deep ruts and jagged stones led over high mountains and into deep valleys. The ascents were so steep as to require a team of eight or ten coolies harnessed with ropes to drag the chair up the dangerous incline, often skirting the edge of a precipice; and in the narrow and dangerous path strings of mules and ponies laden with salt were often met with, to the great risk of the traveller.
The state of the country is best described in his own words:—“It is melancholy to see these fine valleys given up to rank grass, and the ruined villages and plainly distinguishable fields lying in silent attestation of former prosperity. Every day I come to what was a busy city, but now only containing a few new houses inside walls which surround a wide space of ruins. But the people are returning gradually, and the blue smoke can be seen curling up here and there against the background of pine-clad hills. It must take some few years to re-people the country, rich as it is.”
The last four days’ travelling before reaching the plain of Tali passed through a mountainous district devoid of cities. The authorities of Tali were at first averse to his entering the city, pleading their fear of the turbulent and dangerous populace, against whom he had been already warned by the viceroy; but by an adroit appeal to the laws of etiquette, which constrained him to pay his respects to the high authorities, he got over the difficulty. The much dreaded city populace treated him not only with courtesy but with profound respect, calling him Ta-jen, or Excellency. The several officials received him well, and the Tartar general, an enormously large man, who had been foremost in the storming of the city, placed him in the seat of honour by himself, asked innumerable questions about England and Burma, and promised to invite the mission to stay a few days at Tali-fu.
Yung-chang was reached on December 27th, after passing through “glorious scenery,” by a road leading over high mountain regions, but with nothing so bad as “the horrid passes” previously encountered. A daring robbery had been just committed on the highway, and a halt was necessitated for the soldiers to scour the hills for fear of lurking dacoits. The people were gradually returning to the villages, and burning the jungle grass, which had overgrown the long abandoned fields. The mandarins at Yung-chang were inclined to be obstructive; but those at Teng-yue-chow, or Momien, which was reached in four days from the former city, were “delightfully civil.” Here he received the despatches informing him of the plans of the mission, and in accordance with them he set out for Manwyne, arriving there after a journey of five stages through the Shan country, which he described as a lovely valley, and the people as sociable and amiable. At Manwyne he found the Burmese guard of forty men, who had been sent forward from Tsitkaw to escort him through the Kakhyen hills. Here also he met with the redoubtable Li-sieh-tai, “now a Chinese general,” who was negotiating a tariff of imposts on trade with the Kakhyen chiefs and Shan headmen. Li received his first English visitor with the greatest honour, kotouing to him before all the assembled chiefs and notables. The Burmese officers requested a delay to recruit their men, after the march over the hills, and Margary, who was anxious to press on, endeavoured vainly to induce Li to give him a guard, under whose protection he could advance, leaving his followers and baggage to follow with the Burmese. He recorded his opinion that there were intrigues going on in this district adverse to the advance of the mission, but notwithstanding he relied strongly on the express commands of the all-powerful governor of Yunnan in its favour.
His stay at Manwyne was marked by the most friendly intercourse with the tsawbwa and his family, whose guest he was. He walked through the town and shot over the banks of the river freely and unmolested; and, as he writes, “I come and go without meeting the slightest rudeness among this charming people, and they address me with the greatest respect.”
Under the escort of the Burmese guard he crossed the Kakhyen hills, bivouacking one night in a clearing, as we had done on the former journey, at Lakhon. He passed through eight or nine villages of the Kakhyens, the savage appearance of these hill people striking him forcibly after the civilised aspect of the Shans of the valleys, and they treated him to a specimen of their bold impudence. His servant Lin was menaced by one of these with a large stone, which he raised to strike him with, and another drew his dah and made a daring attempt to rob one of the men of his bag. After remaining a night at Tsitkaw, he and his party descended the Tapeng by boat, and reached the Residency early in the forenoon. It can easily be imagined with what feelings we congratulated the first Englishman who had succeeded in traversing “the trade route of the future,” as he called it, and with what pleasant anticipations we heard of the accounts of his arduous but successful journey, and the reception accorded all along the line of route, crowned by the politeness shown by the dreaded Li-sieh-tai. The astonishment and admiration of the Burmese was even greater. In their own minds they had never realised the existence of English officials in China, and now there appeared a veritable Englishman speaking Chinese fluently, and versed in the use of chopsticks and all other points of etiquette. This Petching meng, or Pekin mandarin, moreover, was attended, besides the rest of his retinue, by a most imposing literate, whose huge round spectacles gave him an aspect of wonderful wisdom, and commanded the greatest respect from his countrymen at Bhamô.