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Peiping 北平
(Peking)
October 5, 1936
How Peking grows on one. Riding through the streets by rickshaw I get views and impressions that I shall always remember. I was on my way back to the College of Chinese Studies after an afternoon looking around Flower Street in the Chinese City. It was beginning to get dark as I came to Hatamen Gate, and the lamps of the rickshaws were all lit up. These are hung low near the foot of the occupant, lighting up his face and the boy’s back in an eerie fashion.
The massive gate, ninety-nine feet high, was a great blotch against the darkening sky, while through the narrow, tunnel-like passage below, passed in steady but confused succession swarms of rickshaws, street vendors with creaky carts, kimono-clad men and women on foot, numerous beggars cringing, donkey carts and even a string of camels. Those are things, together with an occasional honking automobile, that make up many a street scene in Peking. But at nightfall it looks more bizarre and Oriental than ever. Tonight, as always, I got a thrill going through the gate in that press of animals and humanity. |
Tsingtao 青岛
November 28, 1936
Tsingtao is a pretty red-roofed town passed down from the German occupation of the port and control of the surrounding region. It has a perfect bay with bright blue water dotted here and there with picturesque little islands, junks and sampans. There is even a Chinese temple along the shore. The three Japanese destroyers anchored out in the middle of the bay give a realistic touch to the picture. Behind the bay, on all sides, rise immediately jagged hills. No wonder it is called the most beautiful spot in all China.
Tsingtao
April 28, 1937
The Coronation Ball was a splendid affair with many nationalities present and many, many uniforms. Chinese and Japanese officials are impressive at a formal occasion like that. All the Englishmen were decked out in their war medals, and it was a sorry man that didn't have at least three. After a buffet dinner, preceded by twenty-five hundred martinis, we were to have gone to the veranda of the hotel for a fireworks display, but a fog came in and it was no use.
Tsingtao
September 28, 1937
This war has developed into one of the most inhuman struggles ever waged. Tsingtao is the only major city in China, except for Chungking and Chengtu (1,500 and 1,600 miles up the Yangtze), that has not been bombed. From reports we have had through Reuters News Service, the New York and London papers are thoroughly aroused about the intensive bombings of noncombatants. The Japanese have already bombed Lienyunkang and Tsinan and several other points I have visited in the past, and now it looks as if all Shantung is to be subjected to what Canton, Nanking and Hankow have experienced.
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Chungking 重庆
My house, known as the Red House because of the red stucco, is well known by everyone in Chungking and is easily one of the most interesting landmarks of the South Bank. It has an interesting history, having been built by Archibald Little, whose story is supposed to be the foundation of Alice Tisdale Hobart’s River Supreme. It is either the oldest or next to the oldest foreign residence in all Chungking. In more recent years it has been used as an officers’ club for the United States Yangtze Patrol when they have a gunboat in port. Last summer it was the residence of Captain Hughes, commander of the ill-fated Panay, and his family.
Chungking
July 9, 1938
It is two hours after sundown and I can see the lights across the river while I am writing on my porch. It is hot, so I have the ceiling fan on over my head. Just below my porch at the riverbank, a Butterfield and Swire steamer is unloading a cargo from Ichang. The yo-hoing of the coolies mixes with the chirpings of thousands of crickets. Sometimes I can hear the beating of gongs across the river and occasionally, the terrified squeal of a pig as it is carried upside down with its feet tied together on a bamboo pole. Outside the porch screen a lizard is chasing a moth. The incense coil is burning away to discourage mosquitoes, which can make life unpleasant. Tien is preparing my bed for the night with the netting. It is one of those nights, when in spite of a few discomforts, one feels that life is good.
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