From the Arctic Ocean to the Yellow Sea

by Julius M. Price

The town of Kalgan stands at the very entrance to China proper, for one enters it through an archway in the Great Wall itself, and it is only, therefore, when the venerable portals are passed that one is really in the Celestial Empire. The suburb of Yambooshan, where the Russian postmaster and tea merchants live, is quite a little town in itself, outside the wall. As I had a letter of credit on one of these gentlemen, a M. Bassoff, of the firm of Kargovine and Bassoff, I went straight to his house, in order to get some Chinese money and to exchange the brick tea I still had left, for this ponderous currency was now of no further use to me. It is almost unnecessary for me to state, that I was received with the usual Russian courtesy and hospitality. M. Bassoff was away, I was informed by his representative, a gentleman clad in white silk, who came out to meet me; but a letter had been received announcing my probable arrival, so a room in the house had been prepared for me. Had I been an old friend of the family it would have been impossible to do more for me; and it may be imagined how welcome all this was after the hardships I had just gone through. Nor was there in my mind any pang of regret at saying good-bye to my camel-cart which had brought me so many weary miles, safely, it is true, but shaken to pieces almost. My one hope was that I should never set eyes on its like again. To have a good warm bath, to get rid of the dust with which I felt literally saturated, was my next move, and I then sat down with my host to the best meal I had tasted since I left Irkutsk, and washed down by a capital bottle of Burgundy. “Roughing it” has its charms, but after all commend me to the comforts of civilization. My friends, the Cossacks, came in shortly after, and I learnt from them that I should be able to spend two days in Kalgan, as the mail would not be ready to start for Peking sooner. So I was to be in clover for the next forty-eight hours.

STREET SCENE, YAMBOOSHAN: SHOWING THE “GREAT WALL” ON MOUNTAIN IN THE BACKGROUND.

[To face [p. 332].

Yambooshan is one of the quaintest little places I was ever in. It looks more like some little far-away village nestling under the Alps in Northern Italy than a Chinese settlement, the high mountains which surround it, and amongst which the houses are perched here and there, helping to carry out the illusion. It is so completely encircled, in fact, by the mountains, that the cold wind from the desert but rarely reaches it, and the temperature when I was there was simply delightful. As I smoked my cigar while strolling round the garden of the house in the genial sunshine after lunch, I felt a sense of enjoyment and physical repose such as can only be experienced after a long spell of discomfort has been endured. It was almost sufficient to compensate me for the wearisome journey I had just finished.

During the afternoon, accompanied by a Chinaman as guide, I went for a ride round the city. Before, however, describing Kalgan itself, I suppose I ought to give my “impressions” of the Great Wall, this huge and indelible record of a nation’s panic, and which is often spoken of as one of the Seven Wonders of the World.

Although there are really two great walls, the one at Kalgan—the “First Parallel,” as it is called—is, I believe, the only real and original one. The other, at the top of the Nankaou Pass, which I shall have occasion to describe later on, though in reality far and away finer, was evidently of much later construction, and possesses real architectural beauty; whereas the one at Kalgan looks at first sight more like an Irish stone fence than anything else. I could hardly realize, on first being shown it from the valley, that this almost shapeless mass of rubble, looking not unlike some huge fossilized serpent, winding away over the tops even of the highest mountains, had been raised as a serious defence of the empire in bygone days. However, I took the trouble to climb up the mountain to it, and it was only when I found how long it took to reach it that I began to realize its size. Of course it is so dilapidated that one can only conjecture what its original appearance was like; but although undoubtedly big, its dimensions were, to me, very disappointing. The base, of course, one cannot measure, as it follows the sinuosities of the ground, and in some places, therefore, is much wider than in others. The height also varies considerably from the same cause, but I should think, at a rough guess, it averaged twelve feet on the inside; on the outside it is in many places à pic with the sides of the mountain. I found I could sit astride the top, so it is not very wide. In shape the Kalgan Wall is conical, its base being formed of huge boulders loosely heaped together; at intervals of half a mile or so are rough towers, each capable of containing a few soldiers.

I found Kalgan even more curious and interesting than I anticipated it would be; in fact, I could never have imagined such a sight as met my eyes. The streets were well-nigh impassable, not only on account of their fearfully badly paved state, but on account of the immense amount of traffic of all sorts. I don’t think I ever saw such a busy or novel scene as presented itself to me on passing through the ponderous gateway, with its huge paper lanterns swinging overhead. The principal street was simply blocked, and I had to wait some little time before I could advance my horse a step. My appearance attracted little or no attention, for I was in a Russian costume, and my Cossack cap was alone sufficient to guarantee me respect—such a wholesome dread have the Celestials of interfering with a subject of the czar. I have not been able to get any reliable figures as to the actual population of this frontier town, but there seemed to be positively myriads of people about, and the first impression was of being in some immense fair, the low-built houses, or rather open booths, on all sides adding considerably to this appearance. However interesting, though, the first visit to Kalgan was, the novel impression caused by the strangeness of the surroundings soon wore off, and then the dirt and abominations of the evil-smelling place were apparent in all their barbarous hideousness. As a matter of fact, this was my subsequent impression of all Chinese cities without any exception, and I believe most travellers will agree with me.

I had learnt that there were two mission-houses in Kalgan, one English, the other American. So I thought I would pay these gentlemen a visit, if only to have a chat, for I had not spoken English for some months. I therefore got my guide to take me first to the envoyés of Uncle Sam. The mission station was a large brick building, standing in its own grounds, which were laid out as an attempt at a garden, and surrounded by a high wall. I was received by a Mr. —— in the usual cold, distant, narrow-minded manner which, so far as my own experiences are concerned, seems peculiar to this particular profession; and after a few trivial remarks about the weather and other everyday topics (for my arrival seemed quite an ordinary occurrence to him), I was asked into the house and introduced to Mrs. ——, and we made some further attempts at a conversation. It was scarcely more than an attempt, however, for my visit did not appear to gratify these worthy people over-much. After about ten minutes of digging out syllables on my part, the gentleman left the room, apologizing for having to get on with his work, or something of the sort; and I took the hint, and my departure also. It is almost needless to add they did not press me to remain or to call again. As I rode away from this inhospitable abode I could not help mentally contrasting the reception I had just received with the hearty welcome I had invariably been shown throughout my travels amongst the Russians, who never can do enough for the stranger within their gates.

A couple of days in dirty Kalgan were more than sufficient to see all there was to see; therefore I was not at all sorry when Nicolaieff came in the next afternoon and announced the departure of the mail for Peking on the following morning; so I had to set to and make my further preparations for the four days’ novel journey to the capital.