THE CHINESE PUNISHMENTS. HE seamy side of Chinese life always had its fascinations for me, and accordingly on one occasion a party of us resolved to assist at an orgy of blood-in other words, at an execution of criminals. The place of execution varies in different towns. In Canton it is literally a potters' field, outside the Tartar, but inside the Chinese walls, the criminals being forced to kneel down in a narrow space, one side of which is bounded by a stagnant ditch running through the pottery quarter, and the other by rows of potters' stalls. The idea evidently is to perform the gruesome work on a spot where it is not easy for dangerous crowds to congregate; the alternative of being pushed into green slime or tumbled amongst fragile earthenware, with only a narrow avenue for escape into the arms of the police at either end, is not an inviting one for the larrikins and the evil-disposed. At Kiungchow the executions took place entirely outside the city walls, upon the Champ de Mars, or drill-ground, of which there is usually one in or near every central town. At Peking the autumn executions, as they are called, are carried out about the middle of the Chinese "winter moon," or eleventh month, at a place called the "Entrance to the Vegetable Market,” about one mile outside the "Easy Government Gate" of the Inner or Tartar city, in the middle of the main street which runs thence through the Outer or Chinese city. The Autumn Revision precedes the executions, and at this revision the Emperor ticks off, or "hooks off," as it is termed, a number of those offenders whose crime presents "solid circumstances" of proof, allowing the remainder to stand over. If a criminal is fortunate enough to pass three such ordeals without being "hooked off," he may consider himself reprieved, and he either languishes in gaol, is exiled, or is banished with or without hard labour; or he may even in time bribe himself free. It is a Peking autumn execution that I am about to describe; minor special executions may take place on the same spot at any time. At an early hour upon the appointed day the traffic is stopped, and a space sufficient for the purpose is barred off, no one but VOL. CCLXXXII. NO. 1993. E Government officials in uniform being allowed within the ropes; "foreigners," i.e. Europeans or Americans, are (or were then) easily able to obtain admittance, the more so that the majority of them are themselves either Chinese customs officials or officers attached to the various legations. So used to this have the Chinese at Peking become, that the official term lao-ye, or "old sire," is usually applied there, by both natives and foreigners, to missionaries as well as to officials; in fact, like the Hindoo sahib, to all whites. On one side of the road a booth or mat shed had been erected for the execution commissioners. In this booth were a number of very shabby tables and stools, backed and armed chairs being comparatively uncommon in the north of China. On the tables were the regulation inkstands, rests for brush-pencils, paper, vermilion, and other official writing materials. The stools were gradually occupied by twenty or thirty mandarins in full dress, each with a blue, crystal, or opaque white "button," according to his rank. These so-called "buttons" or globes are about one inch in diameter, and are worn (with or without a feather or squirrel tail, as a special or further mark of honour) upon the crown of the official cap; official understrappers and mandarins of very low rank wear a brass or so-called "gold" button. These buttons are essentially a Manchu innovation, dating from 1643, having been, like the pigtail, unknown to orthodox Chinese attire. As each mandarin took his place, those who were already seated rose with a smirk to greet the new-comer, who, on his part, deprecatingly implored them not to do him so much undeserved honour. In another mat shed, on the opposite side of the street, were the wretched prisoners, twelve men and two women, all huddling together for warmth: they had been brought during the night from the hideous prison commonly known to Europeans as the "Board of Punishments "--the same in which Sir Harry Parkes and Sir H. Loch were confined thirty-five years ago. Each prisoner had a bamboo pin stuck into the coat collar, and attached to this pin was a slip of paper inscribed with the prisoner's name, crime, and the nature of the penalty-decapitation or strangulation-to be undergone. Decapitation is considered a much more disgraceful death than strangulation, for whilst in the latter case the whole spirit presents itself for admittance to the "shady regions," in the former the guardians of Chinese purgatory raise awkward interpellations as to what has become of the head; yet strangulation is infinitely the more painful death of the two, as will shortly be seen. The list of prisoners in this case included a murderer each from Hu Peh, An Hwei, and Kwei Chou provinces ; a man who had stolen imperial garments from a royal rest-house in Chêh Kiang province (stealing from public buildings is a very much graver matter than an ordinary theft); and four men convicted of stealing or receiving rice from the granaries of Yün Nan province. All these were to be decapitated. Amongst the strangled were a man from Kiang Su province, who had been caught plundering coffins-the Cantonese call such offenders "mountain dogs"; an old man from the same province, who had in some way caused the death of another person-very little, if any, allowance for accident is made in Chinese law, which rather favours the lex talionis; a seal forger from Shan Tung province; a man from Chih Li province, who had beaten another to death; and three thieves from Shan Si province. It is not a capital offence to steal ordinary objects, unless the value exceeds Taels 105, say £20, a sum which compares favourably in point of common sense with the historica English five shillings. It is popularly stated that substitutes can be bought for Taels 50, and most certainly this statement is more than true, so far as the price of human life is concerned; but it is quite another question whether the gaolers and judges can always be bribed. A Chinese magistrate-a very good fellow, who saved my life in a row-once told me in almost as many words that he could always arrange to starve or murder any prisoner in gaol if he found it expedient to get rid of them in that way: his predecessor was a regular trafficker in human lives, and the official servants used to tell me all kinds of categorical stories which quite convinced me that an unscrupulous executive mandarin can practically do what he likes so long as he manages to keep to windward of legal forms and avoid giving personal offence to his superiors. There is a third form of capital punishment called "piecemeal hacking," which is performed upon women who poison or otherwise murder their husbands (usually by running a stiff bristle into the navel whilst asleep); individuals of either sex who cause the death of a parent or senior agnate; traitors, &c. I never saw this performed, but I once saw a snap-shot photograph of a man at Canton upon whom it had been executed. Almost invariably the executioners allow the victim to stupefy himself or herself with opium: the breasts are first sliced off, then the flesh at the eyebrows, then the calves, muscles of the arm, &c., until at last a dagger is plunged into the heart, which is crammed into the mouth of the corpse. Many Europeans, and most Chinese officials, deny that this cruel punishment is ever carried out; but, as I have said, I saw the photograph, and the viceroy was so angry about it that the British Steamer Company had, in their own interests, to remove the engineer who took it. In the present instance all the prisoners presented a most woebegone and haggard appearance, as indeed poor wretches who have been some time in a Chinese gaol invariably do. Yet even this indignation-rousing treatment of prisoners has a reasonable defence; the scale of Chinese life is so low, the common people, who often live like and literally with pigs, spend their days in such a villainous state of dirt and-from our point of view-misery, that there is no way of physically punishing an individual unless you starve and "torture" him, so as to make him less comfortable than he is when he is "enjoying himself" in private misery. None of the prisoners displayed the slightest fear or emotion; those who had tobaccopipes smoked them, and those who had not were quite willing to accept contributions of cigars and food, like so many monkeys in a cage, or to crack jokes with the bystanders. The Chinese have no fear whatever of death; that is, no Chinese will ever hesitate to travel in a rickety boat, walk across a shooting butts, drink stagnant water, live amidst plague, small-pox, or cholera, sail down a dangerous rapid, or go down quietly with a sinking steamer when it appears clear that no means of escape are provided. It is difficult, therefore, to understand what they run away for in war, or why they will never individually stand up to a square pugilistic encounter. The fact is the national mind has evolved itself into a state which abhors a situation nette of any sort; in diplomacy, as in war, it prefers tortuous evasive courses, and invariably collapses before a display of force or a fait accompli; the same thing in most departments of everyday life; commerce, however, is an exception. Whilst the officials in the shed were awaiting the arrival of the imperial commissioner, the "satellites," or police, vigorously plied their scourges upon the rowdy crowd, which largely consisted of roughs and ioafers who had borrowed old official hats for the occasion. In front of the official booth were five yataghans, or executioners' swords, about three feet long by three inches deep, with handles of carved wood representing the imperial dragon, griffin, or other monstrosity. Perhaps yataghan is hardly so suitable a word as butcher's knife, for the inner curve appeared to have been caused by length of use rather than by original art; all were very ancient in appearance, as they grimly stood in a framework protected from the weather by a tiny mat house. Meanwhile, the executioners, wearing yellow cotton aprons, were exchanging pipes and chaff with the crowd, or preparing baskets of bread with which to soak up the blood; sometimes these chunks are sold and eaten in order to "give courage" to the purchaser. In the case of very desperate criminals the heart and liver or lungs (I forget which) are usually-if they can be got at-torn out, and sold for a very high price, in order to literally "put heart" into the craven. When I was in Sz Chuan, some twelve years later, two men once suddenly rushed into the kitchen of the inn, hastily grabbed a frying-pan, threw something into it, and after a short frizzling commenced to eat it; my writer. told me it was the heart or liver of a celebrated highwayman who had just been tortured to death; these were two of the "satellites." Such events are frequently described in Chinese history; in fact, "eat his flesh and sleep on his skin" is a regular literary expression for "revenge." To resume. The one-storeyed houses in the neighbourhood were covered with joyous unofficial spectators, all struggling to get a good view; but I think we Europeans, as we stalked unmolested through the crowd, were as much the centre of attraction as the executions; it was only eight years since the allied troops had entered Peking, and we "foreign devils" came in for our full share of the reflected glory earned by Tommy Atkins. At that time a single foreigner with a stick could scatter a crowd of Chinese, armed or unarmed, like a flock of sheep. None of the prisoners knew whether or not they were actually doomed to execution, for, in accordance with an old custom started by one of the Han dynasty emperors 2,000 years ago, the Emperor has to sign three separate decrecs at short intervals on the morning of the execution in order to escape the risk of precipitately causing the death of an innocent or hardly used man, as once happened to the ancient Emperor in question. At about eleven o'clock a "movement" was apparent; two rows of satellites, wielding bamboo bludgeons, cleared the course for the imperial commissioners, whilst others drove back the crowd with their scourges. The procession was headed by a cavalier wearing on his cap a long crystal button, elaborately mounted in gold, and thus, by its unusual shape, signifying that he had just come from the Emperor's presence; his horse was led for him, as he carried aloft with both hands the Emperor's final warrant wrapped up in yellow silk. Dismounting before the official shed, he placed this packet with an air of extreme veneration upon the central table, and was duly bowed to his appointed seat. Next came a couple of ordinary Peking scatless carts, two-wheeled affairs something like a covered Lancashire market-cart, but smaller, and constructed almost exactly on the principle of those in use 2,000 years ago, as exhibited upon the ancient sculptures recently discovered in Shan Tung province. In the first cart sat or squatted a handsome old mandarin of the third (blue button) rank, and in the second the commissioner himself, with |