I have forgotten to mention that cholera was raging in the town; hundreds of people died daily, and the sanitary conditions of the place were so wretched that nothing could be done to stop it. Considering the manner in which the coolies live, it is only surprising that they do not all succumb. On this account the authorities at first had been averse to the idea of my visit to Mukden, but as there was smallpox in China and typhoid fever in Korea, there did not seem much to choose between the two; and, besides, I was firmly convinced that Providence would let me finish the work I had undertaken to do.
The epidemic broke out three months ago, and had claimed many victims among the Russian troops. The morale of the men was at a very low ebb in consequence. Upon the coolies and the Manchus the effect was different. Their innate fatalism teaches them to look upon death as a benevolent friend, and as they bear away the coffins with the remains of their loved ones, they look as unconcerned as if they were taking them to a place of joy. All the small objects cherished by the dead are placed upon the coffin to be burned at the grave-side, and when the smoke rises up to heaven, popular superstition has it that all these objects assume shape again in a higher sphere, for the gratification of their former owners. It is only right, however, to add, that as the heirs are solicitous to save anything that may be of value, counterfeits of the real things, in paper or cardboard, are often substituted, and so the auto-da-fé takes place only in effigy.
Having been entertained at luncheon by the Chinese Governor, to make the day complete I was the guest of the Russian Resident at dinner. We may criticize the Muscovite system of government, we may censure the ways and means employed by the Russian administration, but there is only one opinion as regards Russian hospitality. No matter what quarter of the globe one comes from, whether one be a political ally or a traditional foe, a Russian never fails in the duties of hospitality. As long as the guest is under his roof he is looked upon as a member of the family. Host and hostess, in fact all the household, go out of their way to show kindness to him. And it is all done on such a lavish scale! His room is overheated, rugs and furs are wrapped round him whether he desires them or not, and above all a special point is made of loading him with food and drink at all hours of the day and of the night.
The Russian Residence, or Consulate, as it is still sometimes called before the world, is a yamen like all other public buildings in China, only perhaps a little more ruinous than those I saw in the morning. The interior is greatly lacking in comfort and luxury. It gives rather the impression of a camp than of a home; there is no furniture beyond what is strictly necessary, and nothing has been done to make it pretty or attractive. The only redeeming feature is the table, which appears to be permanently set for meals. It is covered with quite as many little dishes as the table of the Mandarin, but instead of fruit and sweetmeats, they contain hors-d'œuvres, such as caviare, herrings, smoked salmon, cucumber, and all the innumerable varieties which compose the famous national Zakouska. There was a perfect array of bottles on the table; I do not remember ever seeing so many crowded on to one table. There were wines from the Crimea, various liqueurs, and vodka. During dinner the guests smoked perfumed cigarettes, and talked of their family affairs and distant homes. It was difficult to realize that the boundless plains of Siberia separated us from the banks of the Neva, for the picture before me was so typically Russian, in all its variety of shades and colours. I almost felt as if I were "in company with the gentlemen" of Tourgueniéff.
My visit to Mukden had certainly been full of interest. Not only the town itself, its famous monuments, and its strangely superannuated people, but the whole situation as it is at present, offers endless scope for speculation. Chinese mandarins and Russian generals, Cossacks and coolies, how oddly they are amalgamated in incoherent groups! What developments may not the future have in store? Truly this is a fascinating problem. Will Manchuria be more prosperous under the new régime? Will the people be able to rise to a higher level? As I took leave of the spot, now so desolate, where the mission settlement once stood, I asked myself whether it would ever be rebuilt and whether men would come forward to take the place of those martyrs who had sacrificed their life in the cause of the orphans and forsaken children of China. Casting one last lingering look upon the place, which I should probably never see again, the dismal outline of the ruined bell-tower seemed to rise up in pathetic protest against human intolerance and blind persecution.
*****
THE RETURN JOURNEY
The city of Mukden contained so much that was of interest to me, that my stay there was prolonged beyond my original intentions. The Governor, to whom I had related all the difficulties and discomforts of my journey, very kindly placed a carriage at my disposal and gave me an escort to see me safely back to the station. But perilous as the outward journey had been, the return was no less full of various emotions.
It was a beautiful autumn day when I left the town. Nature seemed to be making one last effort to assert the power of her charms before falling into her winter sleep. As we passed through the precincts of the city, the gardens literally glittered with colour. All imaginable shades, from copper-tinted saffron to bronzed purple, were there displayed. These gardens are certainly most beautifully cultivated. Presently we emerged into the open plain, and now I had the opportunity, which I had missed before, of forming some idea of the fertility of this privileged land. Manchuria is undoubtedly one of the richest countries in the world. The soil is excellent, the hills are thickly wooded, the mountains abound in minerals. Along the route we passed farms where maize and beans seemed to be chiefly cultivated, and all the people, men, women, and children, were at work in the field.
The landscape is rather monotonous. We traversed a wide plain enclosed by mountains which touch the horizon; but although the scenery cannot be called picturesque, it is not devoid of a certain grandeur. It has a charm peculiar to itself, an atmosphere of vague melancholy. All vast plains, those of Egypt for instance, or of Rajputana, have this same undefinable, intangible characteristic, of which one is faintly conscious without being able to describe it. The people who live in such a free atmosphere are naturally affected by it, and the Manchus possess all the characteristics of a race inhabiting an exposed country.