The houses have simply a ground floor and no other storey; but their façades in the streets are of wood sculptured and gilt. The thickness of the ornamentation is considerable, and the carvings are sunk into it with a delicacy quite Chinese in its way. I do not know what one of these house fronts would be worth in France. Let the reader fancy a whole street lined with such shops glittering with gilding under a brilliant sky, and revealing, tastefully disposed in their interiors, embellished with these rich frames, all the wonders of Asiatic fairy-land.
I am sorry to be obliged here to undeceive, perhaps, my readers with regard to the fine Chinese collections which they imagine they possess at home. I am far from saying there are not in Europe admirable specimens of Chinese art. But, generally, all the articles offered for sale in England and France come from the southern cities, from Canton, Hong Kong, and Shanghai, and consequently are the productions of second-rate makers. Pekin art is almost everywhere still unknown, and it will easily be understood why it should be so, when it is remembered that Europeans are not allowed to carry on business in the capital of the Celestial Empire. Our last expeditions have not procured us any more liberty in this respect. The specimens of the art of Pekin are, therefore, almost exclusively bought by tourists on their visits, who do not dispose of them by way of trade. There may be seen in France, it is true, enamels in cloisonné work, but they give no idea of the marvels of the kind of work tourists may admire in the temple of Pekin. But there are entire panels much less known, representing landscapes, produced by the application of lacquer to porcelain; screens, wherein dyed ivory is applied to open-carved woodwork; or lacquered folding screens with ornamentation produced by the coloured transparent stones of Mongolia. The latter kind of work presents objects of incomparable beauty, and one is never tired of admiring them. There are also vases in uniform enamel, generally blue with designs in white, level with the surface, having a most graceful effect. This kind of vase is not rare at Pekin, and yet very little known in Europe.
Whilst I am describing the art of the extreme East, I should like to enlighten the reader a little on Japanese lacquers, though I intend drawing my notes of travel to a close at Tien-tsin, and to say nothing of those Japan islands—a sojourn dear as a souvenir of pleasure and joy. All the productions to which we in France give this pompous title of laque au Japon, consist merely of surfaces of varnished wood. In the true lacquer, on the contrary, the drawings in bold relief are composed of pure gold, and the ground-work is covered with adventurine reduced to a powder before application. Objects in true lacquer command therefore, in Japan, exorbitant prices.
I one day asked at Yeddo the price of a cabinet resembling pretty much those that are become now so common in France, and are generally sold with us for two or three hundred francs. The dealer demanded twenty-five thousand francs for it. A little square box of about four inches each way, of genuine lacquer, is worth, in Japan, from eight hundred to one thousand francs. I shall not enter into the subject of Chinese porcelain, because this alone would form matter for a volume: besides, I did not remain long enough at Pekin to become well acquainted with this delicate department of Chinese art, more difficult to master. I will simply mention two kinds of vases in porcelain which appeared to me much esteemed. The one sort is ornamented with large Chinese figures, having in the middle a medallion representing some scene in character with the surroundings. The other is covered with designs in bold relief, also of porcelain, and coloured. These two kinds of vases, it seems, originated three or four hundred years ago, and are worth generally from four to seven hundred francs. What are known also as pretty little thin cloisonné enamels, date also from about the same epoch, and fetch considerable prices in China. These cloisonné enamels are rather rare in Europe. They may be recognised by their designs being more sunk and less regular than in those relatively modern, and especially by certain parts of them, where the transparency of the enamel permits the copper on which it is laid to be seen beneath.
As I have just mentioned, the streets of the Tartar quarter are lined with shops, exposing in their fronts the beautiful articles just described. In the roadway the throng of people is even greater than in the villages I had passed through.
The crowds of people on foot are obliged to stand aside constantly to make way for the palanquins of the grandees, borne by men; the two-wheeled carriages of the mandarins, who may be seen through the black or green persiennes, wrapped in their long robes of embroidered silk; the horses, the camels, the travelling palanquins with mules, then the marriage and funeral processions. The latter occupy a considerable space, and stretch over five hundred or a thousand yards, according to the dignity of the deceased. The poor carry in the line of procession parasols, poles surmounted with hands in gilt wood, and all kinds of amulets. Then follow the objects that belonged to the defunct; his horse, his carriage, in which is generally set up an effigy in wax representing his features, and if a mandarin, wearing his court costume. At last is seen the coffin, made of oak about two and a half inches thick, and placed on a catafalque. The great bier is borne by at least forty or sixty men. The relatives dressed in white, the mark of mourning, precede the coffin, throwing flowers in the way, burning incense, and going through a ceremony of respect to the dead every eighty or hundred steps. For this demonstration the procession comes to a halt. They spread on the ground a white cloth, and the mourners, prostrating themselves entirely face downwards, strike their foreheads, on the ground. This part of the ceremony finished, they get up and the procession proceeds, with these interludes, to some land belonging to the deceased, where the coffin is deposited on the ground in the open air and left there without burial. When the coffin decays they form a tumulus of earth around it, but it is never put into a grave. The spot remains ever afterwards sacred, and can be used no more for cultivation.
It may be imagined what an immense extent of valuable land the Chinese lose through this custom. It is known what many quarrels it also leads to in the towns along the coast inhabited by Europeans: the subject has been too often discussed to make it worth while to say anything about it here.
Among the great concourse of people in the Tartar city may be seen a multitude of conjurers exercising their wonderful feats in the open air.
Their dexterity is surprising; for they execute their tricks among the spectators without the convenient aid of tables and boxes with false bottoms, which are such valuable adjuncts in theatres. Some of them perform even dangerous feats: they leap head-foremost through a cylinder placed horizontally, bristling with nails and pointed blades. I should never come to an end if I were to describe everything that obtrudes itself on the sight in these wide streets of the Tartar city. Nowhere else can be seen such a varied and picturesque kaleidoscope as here meets the astonished eye.
Unfortunately, side by side with these marvels, one turns with disgust from other sights repulsive to European civilization. All along the streets vast holes are sunk for a purpose it would be embarrassing to explain. There is no city in the world so noisome, and I can easily understand why the personnel of the legations prefer remaining shut up four and five months at a time in their fine residences and grounds, to seeking any recreation in such a polluted atmosphere.