File:VIEW OF THE CENTRAL STREET IN THE CHINESE QUARTER OF PEKING.jpg

English: John Thomson: THIS view (No. 21) is taken from the city wall of Peking, close to the Ching-yang-men, or central gate, between the Chinese and Tartar quarters. It is in a direct line with the ' centre of the palace, and is the route which the Emperor traverses on his way to the Altar of Heaven.

In the foreground we see a white marble bridge which spans a kind of city moat. This street, like all the thoroughfares in the Tartar city, is a very wide one, and is a place of great concourse and traffic.

The lofty triple roof of the Temple of Heaven appears in the distance. The brick wall on the left is a portion of the great building which has its counterpart over every gate in Peking. These edifices were originally intended for storing ammunition, but the one shown here served for many years as a depository for the engraved wooden blocks employed in printing books. Formerly it contained the complete blocks for the collection of the Buddhist Scriptures, numbering over six thousand volumes, but these have been recently removed to a Buddhist temple in the north-east angle of the city.

Wheeled vehicles arc forbidden to cross the centre of the bridge, this being reserved for the sole use of the Emperor. It is, however, a favourite resort for beggars — one among many such — and is known, therefore, to the European residents in Peking as the Beggars' Bridge. Here we may see these beggars gambling in groups, or stretched upon the pavement to expose their sores and nakedness to the public gaze. Many of these unfortunate and homeless beings are annually cut off by the keen frosts of early winter, and are found dead on the Imperial Bridge.

There are a great number of stalls scattered along the principal streets, some of which are built like the old booths of the High Street of Edinburgh. In the centre of each street a raised causeway has been made, broad enough to accommodate two carts abreast, and intended for the carriage traffic. Between this raised causeway and the shops on either side of the road run broad spaces taken up with booths, tents, and stalls so closely packed as only to leave a narrow footpath close to the shops on the one side, and a chasm of deep mud pools on the other. From these pools material is taken for plastering and repairing the raised causeway. Most of these pools are stagnant and extremely polluted.

One of my most disagreeable experiences during my visit to Peking was a ride along the road whilst the mud from these putrid pools was being ladled on to the highway to lay the dust. The dust, indeed, was laid, but fumes like those of the decomposing dead were raised in its stead. It would have been still worse had I, as some natives have done, lost my footing in a dark night, and been drowned in the mire. The verge of this slough teems with interesting life.

Those who traffic in the stalls find many eager customers to buy their costly wares. I have seen one of these little booths, no better than that of some London costermonger, laden with over a thousand taels worth of jewels. The booths attract the attention of pedestrians. One finds in them all sorts of commodities for sale, and here and there are closely-packed crowds listening to the clever harangue of some auctioneer, who, with rare and ready wit, is extemporising rhyme in praise of cast-off silks, satins, or furs. In one I recollect a Mahometan butcher was plying his trade : the smiling follower of the prophet, encircled by carcases of sheep, ghastly heads, and entrails, stood behind a small wooden counter, knife in hand, giving a tender cut to a blooming slave girl, whose swarthy face was radiant with smiles, and whose cheeks were adorned with patches of rose-coloured paint. At another counter in this butcher's booth, a care-worn mother, with a nursing child in her arms, was fondling some miserable bones, and pleading with a greasy assistant for a bargain; but, frightful to behold, in the shade of the booth, my attention was riveted by a pair of gleaming blood-shot eyes, not indeed those of some ghastly head spitted on a meat-hook, but the hungry orbs of a street beggar, stark naked but for a thick coating of mud with which his body was smeared. A group of Peking street Arabs were tormenting this wretched being, until at last I saw him seize the ringleader, and daub him over with a ball of moist mud which he carried as a weapon.

Adjoining this booth there was the tent of a dramatic reader, or story-teller, entertaining a well-dressed audience, seated before a long table on two rows of forms. At my approach he laid down his lute, and had a sly thrust at the loitering foreigner, which convulsed his hearers with laughter.

Close by this was a cook's shed, with a series of brick ovens and fire-places in front. From these a powerful savour of roasting meats arose. Above a reeking caldron, puddings, spread on a clean board, were temptingly displayed. A group of boys and beggars were gathered in front to enjoy the pleasures of contemplation. The presiding genius of this cuisine, as he stuffed his puddings with their savoury contents, each time announced the fact in a shrill voice to the neighbourhood. His assistant was engaged with his left hand in kneading dough, while witli his right hand he twirled his rolling-pin on the board, so as to attract the notice of his customers. The agonized shriek of the master, and the twirling of the pin by the servant combined to maintain a constant stir and apparent bustle, which told upon purchasers. I presented a small boy with two cash. This gift enabled him at once to realize his fondest hopes. He invested in a reeking pudding, and, after a brief but affectionate look, devoured it with a relisii that was truly gratifying.

The footpaths, close to the shops, exhibit a scene of great interest. One has frequently to follow along a narrow space left by a number of coal-laden camels, whose drivers are refreshing themselves at the nearest tea-shop, or else to make a dttottr to avoid damaging the wares which some shop-keeper has spread out upon the ground. Occasionally we brush past the cloth-covered sedan of some high mandarin, whose bearers and followers are shouting that the way must be cleared for the approach of The Great. After this, perhaps, a Tartar lady is encountered, rich in her Jewels and her silken attire. Her face, we can see, is carefully enamelled, and her lower lip is finished with a ravishing spot of vermilion, and behind follow her slave women, who add their own charms to their lord's seraglio, and who bear their mistress's purchases and the ills of their lot with equally stolid indifference.

The liveried servants, or Yamen runners, hurry past in their conical extinguisher hats and red feathers, wearing in their faces an expression of sneaking contempt for the foreigner.

Handicraftsmen ply their trades on every vacant space; and well-dressed merchants bustle to and fro, each intent on business of his own; whilst at every hundred steps at least an equal number of natives pass, who possess

no distinctive characteristics, and of whom all that a foreigner can say is that they resemble their neighbours.