“The old boat is full of nails, and the old man is full of experiences.”
XXXI
AWAKENED INTEREST IN AMERICA
Three recent manifestations, selected from many, will indicate the awakened interest in America in things Chinese and the New China. Like the ostrich which pushed its head in the sand, and concluded that the world that was not seen, did not exist, our stage has for centuries persisted in ignoring Sinim-histrionics. Now Chinese plays are not uncommon. One in particular is worthy of mention. William Winter, the dean of the American critics, says of The Daughter of Heaven, playing at the Century Theater, New York: “I have seen every important spectacle displayed in America during the last sixty years and I think The Daughter of Heaven is superior to anything of the kind I ever saw.” The Liebler Company state that it has cost them $100,000.00 to stage the play. How my eminent Thespian friends in old China will marvel when they read this amount! For the same sum they would agree to give four thousand simultaneous plays in the four thousand walled cities of China! Revenons à nos moutons. There are eight gorgeous scenes, the exact detail of which the stage manager brought from Peking and Nanking, where he specially went for local color, and where the play is laid. Scene one introduces a moving state sanpan boat, lighted by lanterns, as a setting for a beautiful tenor love song. Scene two shows the Manchu emperor’s room in the Peking palace. Scene three is of the Ming empress’ gardens at Nanking. This lovely scene is made realistic by living flocks of sacred cranes and peacocks moving about the stage. Scene four is the throne room of the Ming palace at Nanking, a gorgeous representation of Chinese luxury such as we shall never see again, now that the old royal China has passed away. Scene five is outside the pavilion of the Ming empress. Scene six, in contrast to previous gorgeousness, gives a somber Craig-like setting to the battlements of Nanking, and all the remarkable modern art of the stage manager is called into exercise to produce thrilling battle effects. Scene seven is outside the Chien Men gate at Peking, executions taking place, and all the daily life of the Manchus holding one spellbound by its accuracy. Scene eight is the Manchu throne room at Peking.
Now, as to the plot and theme. Pierre Loti, the Orientalist, of course knows his China, for he fought in the relief of Peking, and I have related elsewhere in this volume, his unique pilgrimage to Angkor. Judith Gautier, his collaborator, knows the passionate human heart, as should the daughter of the famous romantic French poet, Theophile Gautier. They have combined their skill to write a tragic Shakespearean theme in a Chinese setting, but the human heart beats to the same pulse under all colors of complexion. In short, the theme is as follows: As there has been for three hundred years, in this play there is war between the Ming and Manchu races. Neither the beautiful young widow, the Ming empress, nor the bachelor Manchu emperor, has been allowed by the factionists of their respective parties to consider the national suicide of race strife. The Manchu emperor resolves if possible to do two things: to restrain in time his army which is attacking the Mings, and in disguise personally to sue at Nanking for the hand of the remarkable beauty, the Ming empress. He can not sue as a Manchu emperor; he knows the Ming empress has only too much cause to hate his race. This worthy Romeo gains admittance to the audience chamber of the Ming empress, and his unusual address and fire carry away the forlorn empress’ heart, despite herself. He therefore has made the personal conquest that could only be made on love’s unsupported basis, and he can afford to wait. In the meantime, the Manchu emperor’s real character is discovered, but he escapes from the Ming palace. His armies, controlled by a cabal of generals, against his will, overcome the Mings, kill the Ming empress’ adored little son and thus break her heart by destroying the dynasty. The Ming empress is captured by the Manchu armies, and is brought to the Manchu emperor’s palace at Peking. There, in real character, the emperor sues for two things: for the fruition of long deferred love, and for the patriotic union of the warring races, in their marriage. In an awful scene of Homeric passion, the Ming empress finally decides that too much blood has flowed between the races for her selfishly to accept of the offered love and honor. She sees the shades of the leaders of the great Ming race, led by her adored little son, and she decides in Oriental fashion, just as General Nogi did, that duty calls her to follow them into the spirit land. The fiery hearted Manchu emperor stands by spellbound, for he can not refute the Cathayan viewpoint, terrible as is his personal suffering. He, too, must be willing to resign love. The Ming empress allows the Manchu emperor to escort her up the privileged central stairway reserved for royalty, to the widest and oldest throne of the human race, and for a hushed and glorious moment she sits radiant in the place of power. The shades of her race, in clouds, approach and reproach her. She asks the emperor to return to her the pearl which she gave him at Nanking, when, incognito, he was an accepted suitor. He hands it to her, and she suddenly swallows it. The lines of Loti and Gautier draw out passion, as the French feel it, in this scene to the limit of endurance, and to its exquisite pain the brave Anglo-Saxon acting of the actor Basil Gill adds a tempestuous power that is thrilling and convincing. When the Manchu emperor at last realizes that the long silent Ming empress really sits dead on the throne, with overflowing emotion he strikes the great audience gong, and commands “to their knees and kotows” the host of viceroys and courtiers which enters; yes, though proud Manchus, they must, indeed, at last worship a Ming empress. As I have pointed out in a chapter on the Portuguese in China in my former book, The Chinese, such a scene is historically correct, for the frenzied king, Don Pedro, once placed the remains of his beautiful bride, Ignez de Castro, who was murdered for love by his enemies, on the throne and compelled a before unwilling people, to pay homage to her. Such is the deathless pride of true love, which mocks at fate even at the triumphant gates of death.
What further shall be said of the acting of Basil Gill and Viola Allen. He makes a brave, eloquent, manly lover, and his reading of the lines can be heard round and full throughout the immense vault of the Century Theater. Viola Allen, as the Ming empress, touches with finished skill, every chord of emotional acting, ever with burning fire and yet ever with artistic control, which best brings the sympathetic tear. They both ring the changes, both in what they suggest and in what they say, on the noble chord: Dulce et decorum est pro patriâ mori. Compared with the silly themes of some popular plays, what a wholesome one is The Daughter of Heaven. While there is little accurate Chinese music, one wishes for more of it, as the Chinese throughout their plays use more music than this play uses. The costumes, the most gorgeous ever seen, will be seen no more, as the old China has passed away. The Liebler Company have rendered a public service by staging so accurate, expensive and educational a production, even if the actors repeatedly mispronounce the word “dynasty”! All Orientalists eagerly hope that the public will avail themselves of the unique opportunity without delay, as there is no telling how long it will pay the producer to stage such an expensive play. No such spectacle will again be seen; the old China has passed away, but it is caught and preserved in the amber in The Daughter of Heaven.
Among the Americans who deserve special credit for awakening an interest in the New China should be mentioned Professor George H. Blakeslee, of the Department of History of Clark University, Worcester, Massachusetts, who for years has brought together a remarkable World’s Oriental Congress, the influence of which, in its published proceedings, etc., is rolling like a golden wheel around the globe, raying forth information, reconciliation, altruism and a forward Americanism in the Orient, which is pro-Oriental and not incursive in any sense, in the opinion of the Orientals. At the last conference there were thirty-six major addresses by specialists.
In closing this long volume, I would like to make a plea for China. America should at once, without waiting for the “concert of Europe” (the “entangling alliances” which Washington prohibited) recognize the new Chinese republic. For some time, with others, I have been working on such a popular movement (as an American, and in no sense in the pay of the Chinese government), writing to editors, authors and influential men, making addresses before learned and popular bodies, and ascertaining the opinions of Orientalists and Orientals. In public meetings, I have found the sentiment of the American people to be entirely in favor. I wrote Ex-president Roosevelt in full on November 25th, 1912, and the Outlook of November 30, 1912 kindly published an article in favor. The editor of the Independent wrote me that they had long been favorable. From my mail, I quote a few representative sentiments as follows:
“Mr. Carnegie asks me to say that he is confident the republic will be among the first to recognize her sister republic.” The frank editor of the North American Review writes: “We are in sympathy with your belief that the time has come for America’s recognition of, and aid to, the new Chinese republic.” President Woodrow Wilson warmly wrote me from Bermuda: “You may be sure that my interest in the fortunes of China is deep and permanent, and that the subject of recognition to which you call my attention will have my very serious and thoughtful consideration.” The earnest Ex-treasurer of New York, Colonel Arthur MacArthur, editor of the influential Troy Budget, writes: “My paper will continue to publish editorials and information in favor, and help to keep the movement prominently before the people.” The Worcester, Massachusetts, Telegram has been most zealous. These are only samples of what the journals of the country are doing. Honorable Champ Clark, Speaker of the House of Representatives, writes me: “Individually I think the Chinese republic ought to be recognized, but it has been settled definitely in this country that the recognition of governments is an executive function.” Governor William Sulzer, the “father” of the famous Sulzer Resolution which passed Congress, and which congratulated republican China on her new form of government, writes me: “You can rely on me to do all I can in the future, as in the past, to promote the welfare of the Chinese republic.” Professor Blakeslee, of Clark University, wrote me: “I want to tell you how much I appreciate all that you are doing to urge the early recognition of the Chinese republic. Have you thought of getting up another petition? I should be glad to sign it; so would Professor A. B. Hart, of Harvard University, and three-fourths of those who spoke at the Conference would sign it.”
Of course there are some American “Manchus” and Laodiceans who are not in favor of the movement. At our last conference, at Clark University, of Orientalists recently arrived from the Orient, it was the general opinion that China should be helped by recognition, as miniature Portugal and South American republics, some of a moth’s life, have been helped. Americans at the head of Chinese universities have told me: “We are heart and soul in favor.” The able Chinese officials educated in America, are passionate in their appeal for recognition by America now, without waiting for the “concert of Europe” on this one point. Wu Ting Fang, first foreign minister, and Wang Chung Wei, assistant foreign minister of the southern republicans, who won the battles of the revolution, have been asking for America’s recognition since their first formal note of January, 1912. America has from the beginning warmly appreciated the recognition by France, Spain, etc., of our struggling republic in 1778, and leading Chinese ministers of state have told me that China would have the same feeling if recognition is not delayed till China is strong enough not to care so much as now. The forceful idiom of one official, who smiled as he spoke, was: “You know a beggar appreciates those favors the most which were given to him when he was a beggar, and not when he comes into his estate.” Are we waiting till China gives a quid pro quo in concessions or monopolies, or until some future election confirms the revolution, as though the battles won were not a firmer expression of determination than even an election, in which latter, enemies can cloud the issue. Americans have almost entire charge of China’s higher education. The Panama Canal is going to bring trade intercourse with China very dose to the Eastern and Mississippi states of America. Secretary of State John Hay’s note to the powers in 1900, insisting for all time on the “integrity of China,” really commits America now to the recognition of the republic. Delayed recognition is really encouraging certain powers in ignoring the American altruistic doctrine of the “non-partition of China”. I refer partially to the secession of parts of Chinese Turkestan and Mongolia, largely caused by Monsieur Korostovetz’ intrusive visit in the van of Cossacks to the heart of the latter dependency as late as December, 1912.