Gold Mountain Blues - Ling Zhang [84]
Viceroy Li was conveyed from the docks in a special horse-drawn carriage accompanied by Mayor Collins, Mr. Abbott, the General Superintendent of the Canadian Pacific Railroad in British Columbia, and Chief Constable Ward. Li’s entourage (which included his son and a nephew) followed, riding in an ordinary carriage with all the party’s baggage. It is understood that the most important item that Viceroy Li carries with him is a coffin made from superior quality nanmu wood. At seventy-four years of age, the Viceroy anticipates that he may die on his voyage. As the carriage brought him close to the ceremonial arch, the patiently waiting crowds of “celestials” performed their customary welcoming ceremonies. First there was the crackle of firecrackers, followed by the explosions of huge fireworks, thunderous drumming, and the noise of many hundreds of people shouting in unison. This was accompanied by musicians playing their peculiarly fascinating music, and some people sang Qing Imperial songs.
Viceroy Li’s eyes sparkle with intelligence. He sports old-fashioned steel-rimmed spectacles, has high cheekbones in a fleshy, dark-skinned face, and appears to be in good health. He stoops, which makes his six-foot frame visibly shorter. Today he wore an over-jacket of the famous Imperial yellow, shaped rather like a cape and of no obvious practical use. Under this he had on an outer garment of dark blue brocaded silk and, under that, a dark red robe printed with darker flower designs. He wore a pair of boots with thick, white soles and a Manchu official hat, with a deep, swept-back brim, set back to reveal a gleaming pate. Long pigtails tied with silk ribbons hung from under the back of the hat, reaching down to his knees. The brim of the hat was black edged with gold. Velvet ribbons cascaded from the peak of the hat, which was decorated with a huge gem, and a plume of peacock feathers sporting three “eyes.” A diamond ring sparkled brilliantly on the little finger of his right hand.
There were obvious differences in social rank among the crowds who had come to meet the Viceroy. About a dozen Chinese businessmen were permitted inside the roped-off area to meet him. It was clear that these were of the upper classes from the expensive quality of their attire. Indeed, their elaborate garments were a far cry from what we are used to seeing on the Chinese in Chinatown. The ordinary labourers standing some distance away, were dressed in cotton jackets and wide trousers gathered and tied at the ankle. Many of them had closed their laundries and shops for the day and had made the trip here from neighbouring towns and villages, in order to welcome Viceroy Li. All these sons of the Great Qing emperor—wealthy merchants and ordinary labourers alike—continue to wear the long pigtails to which age-old custom has given symbolic value, even though many have lived in Canada for a number of years.
Vancouver World, 14 September 1896
Ah-Fat stood far back in the crowd, squinting up at the flags which hung from the ceremonial arch. They flapped in the brisk autumn breeze, furling and unfurling. The red sun on the Qing flag was the colour of the glistening yolk of a duck egg, and the slender black dragon seemed to writhe madly in a frantic attempt to catch the egg yolk in its mouth. Ah-Fat had seen a flag like this before, in the Chinese Benevolent Association, but he had never seen it displayed on such a fine day. The weather was beautiful, and when the yellow flag completely unfurled flat against a bright