July 30, 1874

On the morning, of May 11th, 1874, I found myself in the city of Tientsin, China, en route for Peking. From this place there were two modes of conveyance to the Capital -- by native boat up the Peiho, or by cart across the country. The Peiho is as crooked as the trail of a blind horse, and in the absence of favorable winds boats are towed up the current by muscular force at the rate of 1 1/2 to 2 miles per hour; and as the journey by cart, although far less pleasant, was much shorter and speedier, I resolved to try it, hoping to reach Peking in two days.

The hiring of the cart took up much of the forenoon, and in the afternoon it rained, so that it was Tuesday morning, the 12th, before I was off. The dust had been laid effectually, but the roads were put in a horrible state. My cart resembled an American dray, having very heavy wooden shafts, while the wheels were weighted down with ponderous hubs and iron nails and rivets, making the vehicle incapable of a smash down. Two mules were attached to it, the one in the shafts being a steady but stubborn old animal, while the other was young and inclined to be skittish. This latter was fastened to the axle by long rope traces, which permitted him to walk a little to the right of his companion, but his entire length ahead. The cart had a neat round cover over it, which served as a protection from either sun or rain. The bottom was covered with blankets and matting, on which I ensconced myself, having around me boxes of provisions, valises, and parcels intrusted to me for friends in the Imperial City.

We started at slow walk, and entering the suburbs of the native city, followed a narrow, crooked street around the wall. Mud and filth were abundant everywhere, and the atmosphere fairly reeked with the stench. The Chinese were already stirring, and often impeded our progress by getting in the way of the cart. Passing through an alley only 8 or 10 feet wide, the driver ran over a stone door-step, and lightly turned the cart and its contents over on its side. The twisting of the shafts also brought down the mule between them into a mud hole, where he lay kicking and scrambling about; while the other mule threatened to drag us all away in his fright. Supposing this was only a common feature incident to cart travel, I crawled out and stood waiting while the driver unharnessed both mules and righted the cart. Then he hitched them up again, and once more we were off. Soon we came to a bridge of boats across the Peiho, a rough and steep gang-way of planks leading down to it on each side. A long rope was fastened to the cart, and six or eight Chinamen pulled back on it while we made the descent, and then ran ahead and pulled us up on the other side. We soon crossed a second floating bridge, and at last found ourselves outside the suburbs and on the high road to Peking.

We had not gone far when we met an immense wheelbarrow, loaded down with Chinese bedding, and covered by a large mat. On seeing this prodigy, the head mule stopped short, gazed a moment in fixed astonishment, and concluding that another step forwards would be attended with imminent danger, turned square around in his tracks and started back to Tientsin. The wheelbarrow was stopped, and by dint of pulling and coaxing (Chinamen seldom or never maltreat their animals by beating or kicking), the driver got our animals past. Nothing now interfered with our progress except the mud which stuck to the wheels until it filled the spaces between the spokes. The driver would occasionally stop and deliberately remove it with a thin splinter, manifesting no concern at my impatience. At l1 1/2 A.M. we reached Pu Kon the first stage, where we stopped for dinner. This village was about 40 li or about 14 miles from Tientsin. I took a lunch in the cart, in the presence of a curious crowd of Chinese, who were good humored enough to enter into conversation with me while I was eating.

By the time we were ready to start, the sky, which had been threatening more rain, had cleared up, and the sun was drying the mud. The country was perfectly flat, and a violent wind blew in our faces all the afternoon. We made tedious progress, the mules being tired, lazy and stubborn. The driver was a true Chinese, who did not believe in traveling faster than was agreeable to his team and I had to be constantly spurring him on. His queue was coiled around his head and over it was tied a blue napkin, which he took off when the sun was broiling hot. His ejaculations as he urged his mules forward, at times resembled the cries of a scared child, and at times the half stifled shrieks of a drowning man. He used only one English word -- whoa! and that, judging from the connection in which it was employed, meant go on. The bumping and jolting of the cart would have been intolerable for me, had it not been for the rugs and blankets around me. At 6 P.M. we reached Tsai Tsuan, and turned into an inn to stop all night. The inn consisted of a row of buildings forming three sides of a square courtyard, the entrance gate being on the fourth. In this courtyard the mules were fed, there being quite a number of traveling carts besides our own, and I had quarters in a room furnished with a table, a bench, a stool, and a kang. A kang is a raised platform of hard clay, covered by a mat, and answering for a bed. In winter time it is heated by a fire underneath, from which circumstance it is usually called a stove-bed. After a meager supper I spread out my blankets on the kang, and tried to secure a good night's sleep, but failed miserably in the attempt.

The next morning, we were off at day light. We had a lively day, improved roads, and prettier scenery. Occasionally the crooked Peiho would wind along the road side, but usually its meanderings were far in the distance. At 7 1/2 A.M. we reached the village of Ho Shi Wu, which was the middle stage of the journey. The slow progress we had made the day before, had caused me, very reluctantly, to abandon the hope of reaching Peking by Wednesday evening; but now we were half way there, the roads were much better, and it was still early, so that I was sure we could make the distance by a little effort. So I offered John 300 cash extra if he would bring me to Peking that day, but he shook his

head. I said 400, but the magnanimous proposal failed to move his stolid heart, and I was constrained to let him jog along at his own pace.

I was pleased to find watering places every few miles along the road. The water was drawn out of wells and placed in small tubs or stone troughs very convenient of access. We met quite a number of beggars, who invariably got down on their knees and begged for cash. Some of them, especially the women, were hard looking cases. Once as I was walking on before the cart, I came up to a venerable old man, standing on the opposite of the road, and holding out his hands for money. Looking into his face, I saw both eyes were fast shut, so that he had all the appearance of a man totally blind. -- Moved with compassion I involuntarily put my hand into my pocket; but the instant I did so, the speed and accuracy with which the old pagan darted across the road to receive the cash, convinced me that whatever personal defect he might be laboring under, it could not be dimness of eyesight. At 10 A.M. we reached An Ping, where we took dinner. The sun was very hot. I ordered a moderate supply of rice and eggs, for which the landlord brought in the enormous bill of 120 cash (10 cts.). I put him off however, with 40.

During the afternoon we passed temples, groves of trees, and high sandbanks. The temples were the only respectable buildings I saw. Whatever taste the Chinese have for architecture seems to be exclusively displayed in the construction of their houses for idols and other objects of worship. Hundreds of thousands of dollars are expended in the building of temples, while the masses of the people live in mud huts. Before sundown we reached an old walled town, 50 or 60 li from Peking. There being no other inn, according to the driver's statement, between here and the Capital, we were compelled to stop for the night. I took my supper with a swarm of flies, shaved, read awhile, and then lay down on the kang and slept a few hours. Thursday morning I was up at 2 o'clock, and in an hour we were on the way. By daylight we were out of sight of the town, and at sunrise I was delighted to see a tall pagoda far away on the right. It was an evidence that we were nearing, the Great City.

But if the previous part of my journey was tedious, this was inexpressibly so. The roads were the most wretched I ever traveled; and we made only about 6 miles in 3 hours. The ruts were frequently hub deep, and the mud was fearful. After while we saw the faint outlines of another pagoda far ahead, and after half an age had passed we came to it, leaving it a little on our left. At 7 A.M. we were still 18 li (six miles) from Peking. An hour and a half more and -- hallelujah! -- away in the distance before us appeared, in dim perspective, a section of the outside wall of the Capital! An hour's stretch of mud lay between us and it, and we waded through it at a snail's pace. -- Gradually the outlines of the wall became more and more distinct, and finally, at half' past nine, we "entered through the gates into the city." I found it a Celestial city, however, only in name; the streets, it is true, were paved, and with something equally solid with gold, but far less valuable; the houses were not strictly "mansions"; and the only sounds I heard were the jolting of cartwheels and the cries of street ware-sellers, and the only sights I saw were mingled trains of mules, donkeys, Chinamen and camels. We passed around the inside of the wall, and in half an hour entered a ponderous gateway leading into the city proper.

Now I learned that the first thing which was necessary for a stranger to do on getting into such a city was to find out where he wanted to go. I told my driver I was a "Mei kuajen," and that I wished to go to where the Americans staid. But he did not know the place, and for a time it was doubtful if we should find it. I began to fear we might have to drive up and down those interminable streets all day; and as I was not particularly anxious to see the city just then, the idea was far from agreeable. By good fortune, however, we found the American Legation in half an hour; and Dr. Williams, U.S. Minister to China pro tem, kindly furnished me with a guide to the exact place where I wished to go. -- Back we went over the entire space we had come from the large gate, and crossed the wide street, entered a narrow hu tung, or alley, and at last stopped before a stone gateway. What place is this? It is the Compound of the omnipresent missionaries of the American M. E. Church. And here comes a troop of them to welcome me to their homes and hospitality. I gladly unloaded my baggage, dismissed old John and his cart, and resigned myself into the hands of the friends who had been anxiously awaiting my arrival.

A.S.