[VOL III] THE WESTERN GATE OF PEKING

THE WESTERN GATE OF PEKING

Cover Image: The Western Gate of Peking / BeiJing China / Drawn by T. Allom Engraved by E.Brandard – ALAMY Image ID:2X55N50

*Western Gate, or West ZhiMen (Xi Zhi Men), located in the northwest of Beijing, is one of the city’s historic gates and areas. It is one of the major city gates in Beijing.

“They bring the varied stores from east and west,
Rich cloth of gold, and floating gossamer;
From southern climes the loose embroidered vest,
And from the colder north, its downy fur.”

THE CITY OF DAMASCUS.

PEKING, or the Northern Court,(* So called to distinguish it from Nanking, the Southern Court; it is also designated “the City of the Nine Gates.”) the capital of the Chinese empire, is situated in a fertile plain, about fifty miles from the Great Wall, in the province of Pe-tcheli, and on the Yu-ho, a tributary to the Pei-ho about fifteen miles eastward of the city. Its form is that of a rectangle or right-angled parallelogram, having an area of about fourteen square miles, exclusive of extensive suburbs, divided into two totally distinct and separate sections. Of these, the northern, King-tching, which is a perfect square, was founded by the Mantchoos, is inhabited by Tartars exclusively, and includes the imperial palace; while the southern, Lao-tching, or Wai-lo-tching, in the form of a parallelogram, is occupied solely by Chinese. Each city is enclosed by its respective walls, the enceinte of one series covering nine square miles; of the other, the imperial, or Tartar, occupying five. The mural defences, like those of other cities of the first class, consist of walls about thirty feet in height and twenty in thickness, constructed in the manner common, in the early ages of architecture, to all countries. Two retaining walls, the bases of stone, the upper parts of brick, having a considerable slope on the exterior, but perpendicular within, were first raised, and the interval afterwards filled up with earth. The summit between the parapets is levelled, floored with tiles, and access to it afforded by inclined planes enclosed within the thickness of the walls. This is the plan according to which the great national rampart is erected; this is also the mode in which our feudal castles of old were built, except that rubble-stone, instead of earth, was thrown between the retaining walls, and mortar poured in amongst them to form a lasting concrete. The south wall is pierced by three gates of entrance, the others, by two each; whence the origin of the second appellation, “the City of Nine Gates;” a name for which history supplies parallels in Heptapolis and Hecatompolis; and the central entrance on the south side opens into the imperial or Tartar city. A moat, filled with water, encircled the whole city at an early period, but the increase of the suburbs rendering this defence simply a separation between the inhabitants, the authorities permitted its waters to evaporate. The walls, on which twelve horsemen may ride abreast, are finished with parapets, deeply crenated, but without regular embrasures, which do not indeed appear to have been required, since the Tartar’s rights rest on his bow.

For more complete security and defence, the walls are doubled at each principal gate, or, more correctly speaking, in front of each entrance is an esplanade enclosed by a semicircular curtain, and used as a “place of arms.” The entrance to the esplanade is not immediately in front of the inner gate, but lateral, a plan adopted in European fortresses; and the battlements above are unprotected by any implements of war.Above and behind these great bastions rise pavilion-roofed watch-towers, of nine stories each, and pierced with port-holes; these, however, are not available in cases of sudden emergency, for the forms which they present are unreal, the cannon shown in each aperture being only painted, sham, or quaker guns, such as frequently ornament the sides of vessels in our merchant-service. Besides these vain port-holes of the many-storied towers, their walls are pierced by numerous loop-holes for the discharge of arrows, and a similar policy is adopted on the mural ramparts, where the embrasures are unoccupied by cannon, but openings for archery are formed in the merlons. At equal intervals, some sixty yards, the distance at which a Tartar’s bow proves fatal, stand flanking-towers, projecting from the curtain-wall about forty feet. These are similar in design, and equal in height, to the great structures that command the gates.

Notwithstanding the vast area enclosed by its walls, Peking does not probably contain a population equal to that of London: it certainly does not exceed two millions. A large portion of the enceinte is devoted to the accommodation of the imperial household; public buildings, of mean elevation but spacious garden-plan, cover a large additional space, while numerous public vegetable-gardens, and large sheets of water, still farther detract from the site on which the city is said to stand. Two principal streets, a hundred feet in width, and four miles in length, connect the northern and southern gates, and two of corresponding breadth extend from east to west. With the exception of these noble avenues, the streets of Peking, like those of all other Chinese cities, and like those also of the old cities of the European continent, are dark, dismal, narrow passages, where light and health are equally forbidden to enter. If any accession to the lonely character of these alleys were required, the style of national domestic architecture would very amply afford it. With apparent inhospitality, the gentry, who dwell generally in the cross or private streets, turn the backs of their palaces to the highway; a long blank wall, with a gate of entrance, never left open for a moment, forming the continuous line of building on either side. Sufficient commotion, and bustle, and business, however, eternally present themselves in the four grand avenues of the metropolis. At their intersection stand a number of Pai-loo, or triumphal records, raised to remind the public of some great legislator, or hero, or benefactor, whose memory is deserving of lasting respect.

Each of the high streets is lined on either side with shops and warehouses, places of entertainment, specimens of the particular merchandise sold in each establishment being exhibited in front of the houses. Above the low projecting eaves, are seen banners waving from a staff, or boards secured to a tall pillar, inscribed, in letters of gold on grounds of green or vermilion, with the name of the ware, and the established reputation of the(* As in Beaumaris Castle, North Wales.) vender. To enhance this record, and attract attention, each motto is generally discovered through the flappings and flauntings of streamers, and flags, and ribbons of the most gaudy colouring, and most profuse employment. The variety of articles offered for sale is naturally infinite, and the singular character of Chinese manufactures gives to European visitors the idea of a fancy-fair, rather than that of an established commercial emporium: the gables, sides, door-posts, and roofs of the houses, are adorned with devices in azure and gold, and the most gay and gaish-looking articles are presented for sale. Amidst the bijouterie that glitters in their stalls, are ready-made coffins; these melancholy mementos of human vanity, are of disproportionate magnitude, and disgustingly adorned with painting and with gold.

But the trade of the Four-ways is not monopolized by the owners of the handsome bazaars that enclose them; itinerant traders, and their moveable workshops, dividing the profits with the wealthier citizens. The continuous hum which rings in the Tchhanyngan-kiai, or “street of perpetual repose,” so named, most probably by antiphrasis, because there never is repose there, evidences the energies of its industrious occupants, for “so work the honey-bees;” and the recollection of the scene can never be obliterated from the traveller’s memory. The whole central causeway is a dense moving mass, composed of operatives in every department of active life—tinkers, cobblers, blacksmiths, barbers, occupy their locomotive shops—booths and tents are erected on the kerb of the footway for the sale of tea, fruit, rice, and vegetables, so that little space remains for passengers, when the accommodation which the specimen-goods before each shop, and the temporary stalls require, is subducted. In the midway are seen, “in most dense array,” public officers, with their retinues bearing umbrellas, lanterns, flags, and numerous insignia of rank and station; coffins, attended by mourners clad in white; brides, conveyed in palanquins of glittering decorations—the cries of sorrow that escape from one procession being occasionally drowned by the shouts of exultation and peals of music that ascend from the other. Mixed with these are troops of dromedaries laden with coals from the Western Mountains, wheelbarrows and hand-carts, and an immense concourse literally struggling for liberty to go in pursuit of either their way or their wants. The confused noise arising from the cries of various venders, and wrangling of purchasers, is occasionally exceeded by a strange twang not unlike the jarring tones of a cracked jews-harp; this successful attraction of notice is merely the barber’s signal for custom, which he makes with his tweezers.

There is yet another class of claimants on public patronage plying their respective, although not respectable, callings, with as much zeal, and even more success, than the honest merchant in his warehouse. In this fraternity are included conjurers, jugglers, peddlers, fortune-tellers, quack-doctors, mountebanks, actors, and musicians. The whole tumultuous assemblage not unfrequently receives an onward impulse, which must inevitably occasion inconvenience, if not injury, to many of its members: whenever a mandarin or great officer of state has occasion to pass along this very public thoroughfare, a company of Tartar cavalry is despatched to clear the way before him; and these remorseless satellites, armed with heavy whips, perform their duty with a fidelity of the most reprehensible description. The situation of those whose nerves are sensitive, whose strength is unequal to continuous pressure, must be painfully alarming; and so much is an occurrence of this sort dreaded, that Chinese females never venture into the busy throng of the four high streets, nor indeed Tartar women, unless mounted on horseback. As the causeway is not paved, the dust in summer is intolerable, and the mud in winter oppressive; to these annoyances is to be added one affording grave accusation against the civic authorities—the want of drainage, or sewers of any kind. Exclusive of the more serious consideration of health, the nuisance that is experienced by every passenger is disgraceful to Chinese national character; nor can the constant employment of perfumes, scented woods, pastiles, odoriferous tapers, and aromatics of many sorts, as correctives, be accepted in palliation of such defective institutions. And it is along this crowded, noisy, dusty way, that the citizen of Peking conducts the traveller whom he desires to admire the civilization of his capital; and it was amidst this moving mob of mountebanks that the authorities thought proper to lead our most memorable embassy at the court of Peking, to the great western gate, through which also lies the principal route to the imperial palace of Yuen-min-yuen.