These ballet dancers seem also to have been talented singers, and were of similar station, though far inferior in talents, to the Hetaræ of ancient Greece. In the time of the last named ruler, there were found on the bank of a river, sixteen ancient musical stones or kings, and the fact that the sovereign esteemed this one of the most glorious events of his reign, shows how earnest and persistent was the endeavor to reclaim the old school of music from oblivion.
Between the years A. D. 8, and 23, many books relative to music were written; the Chinese, however, assert that all of these were founded on a false system and contained many errors. About A. D. 60, the president of the tribunal of rites and music, made great efforts to collect the remains of ancient knowledge, and place music once more upon its old, pure basis. The work written by him was highly esteemed by the literati but unfortunately, the musicians had become used entirely to the newer, and less pure style of music, and were too lazy to care about learning any new modes; therefore all manner of difficulties were placed in the way of Pao-yé, and the reform was unsuccessful.
Tching-ti, A. D. 280, had at his court ten thousand women, who were all proficient singers and players. Ngai-ti, one of his successors, tried to remedy the luxury and effeminacy which had crept into every department of music. He dismissed all his musicians, except those who performed at sacred rites, or in military music (these being countenanced by ancient usage) and all the troupes of singing girls were also broken up. The poor musicians thus thrown out of employment numbered four hundred and forty. The singing girls were yet more numerous.
These reforms seem to have been of short duration, for almost always, after an emperor who enthusiastically attacked these abuses, came one who with equal fervor, protected them.
One sovereign, A. D. 289, had at his palace five thousand actresses, and the fourth successor of the reformer who dismissed his musicians, named Tsin-ou-ti, although a lover of music, was also a great lover of luxury. His greatest delight was to enervate the officials of high rank by inviting them to carousals which he would extend far into the night, and when the censors remonstrated with him on his course, he heard them patiently; he would then invite them to dinner for the same day, and there cause them to drink so copiously that they had to be carried home.[98]
An emperor who reigned about 503 A. D. banished comedy and music from the palace, and also established the funeral festival in honor of Confucius, in which sacred music played a part.
Tay-tsung, who ascended the throne A. D. 626, was an active and thorough reformer in music as in all other arts which needed his helping hand. In the year 640, he turned his attention, after having brought the empire to a state of peace, to bringing music back to its ancient and pristine glory. In pursuance of this design, he ordered that everything relating to ancient music, books as well as instruments, should be sent to his court. An immense quantity of books, fragments, memoirs, old and new instruments, etc., were discovered and collected, which were handed over to a committee of savans, whose duty it was to retain the good, reject the bad, and systematize the whole. Much was discovered by this means; books were printed and the art of music received a strong impetus; but still the Chinese held that the full beauty of the ancient art could not be unearthed, perhaps because they could find nothing in it equaling their expectations: but Tay-tsung for his efforts in the matter, was ever after held in the highest esteem by the Chinese, who rank him with the great and good rulers, Hoang-ti, Yao, etc.
Tay-tsung also composed, or caused to be composed, a war dance, accompanied with the appropriate music; it was intended to inspire the soldiers with virtue and courage, and to make them emulate heroes.
Under the emperors who came immediately after, comedy and theatrical representations flourished. The musicians were always kept within the limits of their caste however. A chief comedian once permitted himself to make an allusion to state affairs, in a play; the emperor listened to him with much attention, (the Chinese politeness is such that they will accord the most respectful attention to a person whom they would like to strangle,) but after the performance called the actor aside and told him that he kept his troupe to amuse, not to advise him, and sent the poor fellow into exile.
Another time a very talented musician committed a murder, and was sentenced to death therefor; several officials endeavored to obtain his pardon, and a number of musicians presented a petition to the emperor acknowledging that the culprit was very guilty and fully deserved his fate, but that his talents in music could not be replaced, and that therefore his life should be spared. The emperor’s reply was a worthy one, “you fear damage to the art of music” said he, “but I fear damage to the laws and government of the empire.” The sentence was executed. One emperor dared to raise a musician to special rank, and thus defied the strong respect for caste, which existed in China.
Y-tsung, the causer of this great scandal, had in his service a great performer, named Li-ko-ki, who was an especial favorite. One day when Li-ko-ki had composed a specially agreeable song, the emperor, without considering his profession, gave him the post of captain of the guards. It caused an immense excitement among the sticklers for etiquette, for all previous emperors, when they gave office to their musicians, first caused them to renounce their profession, while Li-ko-ki still continued in the practice of music; the emperor however carried his point. Y-tsung also showered other unusual honors upon the members of this profession, for it was his custom to give a dozen festivals each month, when the musical corps were allowed to eat at his own table.
In traveling, of which he was very fond, he rarely took along less than five hundred musicians.
Under the last prince of the Tang dynasty there came many disasters upon the Chinese empire, and the successful inroads of the Tartar invaders, were most of all prejudicial to music; at one time the emperor was forced to fly from the capital, his palace was pillaged, and the musical instruments in it, either destroyed, or carried off to Tartary. When peace had been concluded and tranquillity reigned again, there was an earnest effort made to manufacture new instruments, but in doing this, great obstacles had to be surmounted, the models were dispersed or lost, and the official pitch was uncertain. A great search was made for the set of bells which represented the authorized ancient scale, but in vain; large sums were offered to the Tartars if they would make restitution of those which had been carried off at the sacking of the imperial palace, but these savages, after long delays, replied that they could not ascertain what had become of the captured instruments.
Thus another disturbing influence was imported into the Chinese music; but it was still as highly-prized an art as of old, for soon after these calamities came rulers who were passionately devoted to it; Tchowang-song, gave two provinces to a pair of favorite musicians; and a subsequent emperor (a la Nero) took to the stage himself, in spite of the horror of his remonstrating censors.
Music and art took a new impetus under the Song dynasty (A. D. 960 to 1279), and very many books were written, on music especially, but alas! there was now so much uncertainty in the field of ancient (and therefore in Chinese eyes correct) music, that the commentators fell into the same pit which engulfed the modern decipherers of ancient Greek music, i. e., they speedily came to all kinds of varying and irreconcilable conclusions. One thing they resolved however, which was that the bells which gave the official scale were not correct; they therefore founded a new set, which were so satisfactory to the emperor and his advisers, that the former ordered his own official bells to be given to the founders for recasting. The musicians were very ill pleased with the new system, although obliged to conform to it, and yet determined that all trace of the ancient scale should not be lost. They managed by connivance with some officials to save a complete set. The bells were indeed removed from the tribunal of music and rites, but instead of being thrown into the furnace, they were with the tacit consent of high authorities, buried in a court-yard of the palace, and long afterward exhumed.
Tsai-yu, one of the later emperors, studied deeply to place music on a secure footing,[99] and it is remarkable that his researches into the proportions of tones, led him to the same results that were afterwards discovered by the best acousticians of Europe.
Kang-Hi, in the year 1678-9, worked for the art in an extraordinary manner; he founded an academy of music, and made his third son president of the institution; he wrote a work, “The true method of the Ly-lu,” in four books, and had a fifth added “concerning European music.”[100] In a proclamation concerning the diminution of the number of court-musicians, Kang-hi says, “Music has power to quiet the heart, and therefore was beloved by our sages. They also could while enjoying themselves at its practice, benefit themselves, because the fundamental principles of government are contained in the art of music. But such a comparison scarcely is suitable to virtuosity. Why, therefore, expend money on it? I approve of the action of Ngai-Ti, (a former emperor) in discharging them.”
The knowledge of European music, which this emperor attained, in opposition to all previous custom in China, came through the Jesuit missionary Pereira, a Portuguese by birth; and Grimaldi, a missionary of the Propaganda. He found it (contrary to the custom of the Chinese) quite to his taste.[101] He was particularly astounded by the ability of Father Pereira to set down in notes, and sing any melody, after a single hearing. He begged his two guests to prepare a work containing the elements of European harmony, and on their completion of it, he had it printed at his palace in a sumptuous manner, and as an especial honor, he had his own name added to it as their coadjutor. He now forced his musicians to learn and to play French, German and Italian music; they did so quite exactly, but most mechanically and with much unwillingness, for it was contrary to all their ideas of art or propriety. Kang-hi saw that the effort would be useless unless he used severe measures in enforcing his reform, and like a wise man he yielded and allowed his performers to return to their own beloved style of music. But the spirit of reform was yet in him, and so far as he was able, he introduced many innovations and many alterations into all departments of Chinese music.
He made a proclamation saying that the old instruments though very good were quite worn out, and that as new ones were necessary, he had prepared a list of the ones required. One of these instruments, can scarcely be called a musical one, as it was simply a flag, which was to be displayed during the continuance of the musical performance.
Kang-hi is spoken of with much rapture by the Jesuit missionaries, for he was not only European in his taste for music; he not only tolerated, but greatly favored Christianity, and at one time it was feared by his court, that he was about to embrace that faith. The real secret of his intimacy with the Catholic missionaries, seems to have been only a great desire on his part, to acquire new information.
He was greatly interested in the mechanism of a clavichord, which the fathers brought with them to China, and ordered two of his musicians to take lessons from them, upon the instrument; the pupils made very little progress, as they were rather unwilling students.
It was not only in the emperor’s court, at this epoch, that European music began to be known; many persons throughout all the empire, sought to pave the way to Imperial favor by studying the new art. The method of Father Pereira had been sent into each province by the emperor, and the ancient Li were for a time eclipsed by the Do, re, mi, etc., of the “western barbarians.” It might have been a permanent reform, but for the fact that the Chinese had always been accustomed to associate their music in a peculiar manner, with virtue and morality; each tone represented some moral precept, each species of the eight varieties of sound represented to their mind some high thought or noble virtue; it was this association of ideas, which evoked the eulogies of Confucius, and it was this time-honored custom which prevented European music from obtaining any foothold among them. When, a short time after, Amiot endeavored to ingratiate himself with the Mandarins by means of his music, he failed utterly, through the same cause.
He thus relates his effort:—
“I understood music passably well; I played the traverse flute and the clavichord; I used all these little talents to make myself welcome to the Chinese. On different occasions during the first years of my stay in Pekin, I never failed to endeavor to convince those who heard me, that our music, excelled that of their own country.”
It is to be remembered that these were educated persons, able to compare and to judge; persons of the first rank, who honoring the French missionaries with their kindness, came often to their abode to entertain themselves with them, with various matters relative to the sciences or arts cultivated in China.
“The cyclops,” “The savages,”[102] the most beautiful sonatas, the most melodious airs of the flute, none of these made any impression on the Chinese.
“I saw upon their countenances only a cold and vacant look, which announced to me that I had not touched them in the least. One day I asked them how they liked our music, and begged that they would tell me frankly what they thought. They answered in their politest way, that our melodies were not made for their ears, nor their ears for our melodies, it was not therefore surprising, they could not find beauties in our melodies, as they could in their own.”
“The melodies of our music,” said a distinguished doctor (in the service of his majesty, the emperor); “the melodies of our music pass from the ear to the heart, and from the heart to the soul. We feel them, and we understand them; those which you have just played, have no such effect upon us. The airs of our ancient music were something quite different; one needed but to hear them, to be ravished with them. Our books give to them the most pompous eulogies; but they tell us at the same time, that we have, in a great measure, lost the excellent method by which the ancients produced such marvellous effects.”[103] It is interesting to place these remarks beside the reiterated opinion of many writers that the Chinese music is not worthy of being called “music” at all; and then to turn to that most proper definition of the art,—“Music is the art of moving the feelings by combinations of sounds.”
The same obstacles exist to-day against change in the music of the Chinese, as in the days of Kang-hi.
This emperor, in his later days added to the long list of his musical efforts, a volume treating of dances, and also a collection of the most celebrated ancient songs. The missionary who mentions this latter work,[104] assures us that he dares not translate it, lest he should be accused of placing the sentiments of the most noble psalms in the mouth of the Chinese.
During Kang-hi’s reign the flute became quite fashionable in China, the people becoming infatuated with it; Kang-hi himself became proficient in its use, but on finding, later, that he had not benefited himself in any way by its use he gave up the practice.
Young-tching, his successor, published new rules for music and assigned a special music in honor of agriculture and husbandry, which was to be performed each year. He did not take to the Jesuits as kindly as his predecessor, for from A. D. 1724 to 1732 he was busily engaged in expelling them from China.
Khian-long, his son, succeeded him in 1736. There is nothing remarkable in the history of Chinese music from his day to the present time.
Lord Macartney’s embassy (1793) took place during the long reign of this emperor. Many persons were attracted to the embassy’s rooms by the European band which each evening gave a concert. Among the most assiduous of these visitors was the chief of the emperor’s orchestra; charmed with the sound of some of their instruments, yet absolutely refusing to accept of them as a present, he sent several painters to take designs of them on paper. These artists laid clarinets, flutes, bassoons, etc., on immense sheets of paper, on which they traced the exact shape and size of each, while underneath they wrote remarks giving the exact dimensions of each aperture, valve and tube.
The chief announced his determination of making similar instruments from these models, but in different proportions, which he proposed to fix for himself. The result of the experiment is unknown.
The later emperors have all had long reigns, and left music in status quo, the last emperor Hien-fung being only remarkable for his constant drunkenness. Let us now examine more minutely the order of music which has inspired such disgust to European ears, and such rapture to the Chinese from the earliest ages down to the present time.
The Chinese have from the very earliest times divided musical sounds into eight classes, and imagined that in order to produce them, nature had formed eight kinds of sonorous bodies. They divided them as follows:—
1. The sound of skin, produced from the tanned skin, or parchment of various animals. 2. The sound of stone. 3. Of metal. 4. Of baked clay. 5. Of silk, used in the form of strings as we use cat-gut, or wire. 6. Of wood, used often in instruments of percussion. 7. Of bamboo, used in flutes. 8. Of calabash, a species of gourd, out of which a peculiarly constructed instrument was manufactured.
Of the skins of animals, many different instruments are made, all of which may be designated under the general name of drums, but the Chinese possess various kinds of drums of all shapes and sizes.[105] The most ancient variety of these was the Tou-kou, which signifies earth drum, so called because its body was made of baked clay, over each end of which was drawn the skin. An instrument of this description was both fragile and unwieldy; its disadvantages soon caused the clay to be replaced by wood, out of which all subsequent drums were made, the size and shape being varied according to the uses for which they were destined. Nothing is said in the ancient writings as to what varieties of wood were used in the manufacture of the earliest drums, but tradition has it, that at first the wood of the cedar and mulberry, as also sandal wood, were the most used.
The Chinese possess eight kinds of drums. 1. The tsou-kou, which had the shape of a barrel, and was fixed upon a pole which ran through its body. 2. The Yn-kou, similar to the above, but the body more elongated, and the staff or pole which supported it usually thrust into the earth to keep it firmly in position, while that of the tsou-kou stood upon a cross piece at its base.[106] 3. A variety of the tsou-kou called hiuen-kou, of very large size; on each side of this drum is attached a small drum, in shape like a kitchen pot, one of which is to be struck lightly, the other heavily. 4. The kin-kou, another keg-shaped drum mounted upon a pedestal; it is about six feet long, and six feet in diameter. It receives different names according to the way it is decorated; thus, if it bears on its case paintings of storms, it would be called lei-kou; but if it is ornamented with birds of good omen, such as the foang-hoang, or white swans, it is called lou-kou.[107] 5. The great tao-kou, which is still used to give the signal for the commencement of a song, is about one foot in length and diameter. 6. The little tao-kou, a cross between a drum and a baby’s rattle, is about seven inches long, mounted upon a stick, and through the centre of its case a string is passed; at each end of this string are knots; when this drum is played, the performer twirls it about rapidly, the knots fly against the skin, and produce a sort of rattle or drumming. This drum is used to show the completion of a verse or division of any musical composition. It is also used in funeral processions and at commemorative ceremonies.[108] 7. The ya-kou, a small drum which is filled with rice grains. The skin of this drum is not only tanned but is boiled afterwards in pure water. The sound of this instrument is soft and pleasant. 8. The po-sou is a drum of cylindrical shape, and is placed upon a small table; it is played sitting; in all other respects it is like the ya-kou.
These are the eight varieties of drums known to the Chinese; many of them are still in use; there are also some varieties of military drums which do not differ much from the preceding.
It is customary to cover not only the case, but the faces and sticks of the drums with paintings.
Drums are used in China to give the hour at night, to announce persons desiring audience, at some palaces, and for many other purposes as well as for music. The Chinese also sometimes muffle their drums (in all religious ceremonies which take place in presence of the emperor) effecting this not in our manner, but by covering the instrument with ornamented draperies of cloth, which absorb part of the sound.
The custom of making a systematic use of stone, in music, is peculiarly a Chinese institution. In the Chouking, one of the most ancient of Chinese chronicles, we read that already in the almost mythological days of Yao and Chun, the Chinese had observed that certain kinds of stone were adapted to giving out musical sounds, and that these tones occupied the place between the sound of metal and of wood, being less sharp and penetrating than the former, and more sonorous than the latter, and more brilliant and sweet than either.
Even in those days they carved and shaped the stones, in order to extract from them the regular notes of their scale, and made instruments of them which even to-day are used in China, and are named king.
These musical stones were highly valued, and received as tribute as early as 2250 B. C. Those found on the surface of the earth, and near the banks of the rivers, were most esteemed, as it was supposed that their exposure gave clearness and purity to their tone.
These stones, called Yu, are found near the mountain streams and torrents of Yun-nan. They are of extreme hardness and are polished in the same manner as agate and precious stones. Large specimens are extremely rare; those which Amiot saw at the Imperial palace, were three feet by one foot eight inches in size, but they were considered unique.
Their weight (specific gravity) is also very wonderful, for stones which seem to be not too heavy a burden for one man, require four men to move them.[109] Those in the palace were of many colors, milk-white, sky-blue, indigo-blue, yellow, orange, pale green, sea-green, red and gray. Those most esteemed were of a single color throughout, though when five colors blended, it was considered a valuable specimen. It may be mentioned in this connection that the number five seems to acquire a mystical significance among the Chinese, for their music has five principal tones, they recognize five elements, five virtues, five senses, five duties, and five principal ceremonies.[110]
Some of these stones resemble marble, and others seem to be petrifactions of some sort. We are unaware whether those belonging to the emperor have been examined by any recent geologist. The Duke de Chaulnes in the last century, came to the conclusion that the stone was marble, but that its organization differed in some respects from ours; and that iron entered into its composition.
It is very difficult to complete an octave with the best of musical stones. In carving and ornamentation they require most skillful manipulation lest the pitch be endangered.
Under the Han dynasty a most harmonious king was presented to the emperor. The designs traced upon the stones were not quite satisfactory to that potentate; on endeavoring to alter slightly the fashion of the stones, the pitch of the instrument was irrevocably lost, and its harmony destroyed forever.[111] The king has from time immemorial been played by striking the stones with a stick or mallet of hard wood. The skill of the player is shown in the degree of shading he can impart to the tones, by varying the force of his blows. Of all instruments, the Chinese claim that the king blends best with the human voice. The entire Chinese chronicles teem with praises of this peculiar instrument. Confucius was thrown into ecstatic bliss on hearing it for the first time. The musical work entitled Li-ki says: “the harmonious sound of the king invites the sage to think of the end of life. When he hears it, he thinks of death, and fortifies himself in his love of duty.” But this passage refers only to the great king made of Yu (the finest melodious stones), which was only played on great religious occasions; it is not singular that this instrument should be associated with religious thoughts. There were other kinds of kings which were used on lesser occasions. In the imperial palace were several of smaller size, called pien-king, which were composed of sixteen stones each. The tse-king consisted of one large stone, and is used to give the pitch to other instruments, to signalize the commencement of a tune, and according to some writers, was anciently used to beat the time throughout a composition.
The shape of the stones is much like a carpenter’s square; and if sixteen of these tools were suspended from a clothes horse, the shape at least of the king would be attained; but in the most ancient specimens the stones are shaped with much more diversity, fishes, bats, and other quaint forms appearing with much ingenuity in the different pieces. The only modern instrument of similar style to the king, which is known to American readers, is the glass-harmonica, where short strips of glass, being struck by a mallet, give out a melodious, but not very manageable tone, and any person performing on the musical glasses, not by friction, but by percussion, can give a fair representation of the music of the favorite instrument of China.
Bells have been in China from the earliest ages the most esteemed of instruments. At first their duty was to be a sort of tuning fork; one bell being made for chief or fundamental tone, and eleven others giving the various semitones. These bells were much different from our church and tower bells; they rather resemble large hand bells, but were of somewhat greater weight. The smallest bells were used in an instrument called Pien-tchoung, which consisted of sixteen of them, tuned in unison with the sixteen stones of the king. We have already spoken of the efforts made to suppress the bells, and through them, the authentic pitch of Chinese music, by one of the conquering emperors.
Of this the Chinese made a deep-toned whistle, with five to seven apertures called Hiuen. This was probably the primitive instrument in China, as it is mentioned as already existing before the reign of Hoang-ty, about 2637 B. C. An ancient Chinese Dictionary speaks of the two varieties of these, saying, “the larger hiuen should be of the size of a goose egg, the smaller, of that of a hen.”
Under this head come all Chinese stringed instruments, for where we use catgut, the celestials use silken cords. Even in the semi-mythical age of Fo-hi, they made a simple instrument by extending threads of silk upon a board of light wood. Little by little the board was shaped to its purpose better; gradually also, the strings were laid with more precision and exactness, and the cords gave out tones deep or high, according to the tension to which they were subjected, or the number of threads of which they were composed; thus by insensible degrees came into existence the kin, the leading stringed instrument of the Chinese empire. In size, it is larger than all Eastern stringed instruments except the harp, its length being five feet, six inches. It has seven cords which are tuned as follows:—
DO, RE, FA, SOL, LA, DO, RE,
giving it only five tones. The pentatonic character of this instrument is observable in all Chinese music, and causes a slight resemblance between that music and the Scotch. There are several varieties of the kin. The large, medium, and small, only differ in their size, and have each seven cords, but there is a much larger instrument of the same species, which is called the che, which has twenty-five strings, and is nine feet long; it is said that in ancient days there were ches made which had fifty strings.
Both the che and kin were, in true Chinese fashion, made to convey numberless morals and symbols. The breezes of Heaven, the four seasons, the five elements, and the universe were all in some manner dragged into the formation of these instruments. The kin represented life, the che death, and before performing upon either, the player went through certain ceremonies to fit himself for the task, and lighted some perfumed tapers, which were kept burning throughout the performance. To perform on the kin, the Chinese held that one must be well advanced in wisdom and sagacity. Of the che, there exist four different kinds, the great, medium, small and very small; all these differ in size but not in their number of strings, each possessing twenty-five. Amiot[112] found the che to be a more agreeable instrument than any known in Europe in his day (1750 circa), as the softer sounds of the silken cords were preferable to the metallic sound of the wires of the clavichord.
We have no instrument in our music which corresponds to the kin, or che; but the zither if trebled in length, and strung with silk instead of wire would give a very exact idea of this finest of Chinese instruments.
The Chinese have from remotest antiquity, used wooden instruments of percussion; it is most natural that the earliest of instruments used by man, should have been of wood, but it is also natural that most nations should have laid aside these primitive and toneless instruments. Not so the Chinese however; their wooden instruments are still used as they were four thousand years ago; for the historians date their invention from the mysterious reign of Fo-hi.
These instruments are the tchu, the ou, and the tchung-tou, all of which celebrate and typify the most profound moral precepts, a la Chinois.
The tchu is a plain wooden box, about a foot and a half deep, in which a hammer is fastened; by introducing the hand into a small aperture, made for that purpose in the side of the instrument, the hammer is agitated, and swaying from side to side, produces a sort of tattoo on both sides of the box. This scarcely can be called music for it is doubtful if the sound is even rhythmic; but it is not the sound alone which captivates the Chinese ear, the symbol attached to it moves the Chinese heart, for the sages assure us that this clatter represents (in some mysterious way) the advantages of the social intercourse of men, and the mutual benefits of society. The tchu is placed at the north-east of the other instruments and is played at the commencement of a composition.
The ou is an image of a sleeping tiger, and is a symbol of the power which man has over all other creatures. It is placed at the north-west of the other instruments, and is played at the close of a piece of music. Along the back of this image is a row of pegs; when the instrument is well played, six tones can be extracted from these wooden pegs, but usually the performance is ended by the player running the stick, by which the pegs are struck, swiftly along the whole row, and finishing with a couple of blows upon the tiger’s head. This is repeated three times as finale.
The tchung-tou cannot really be classed among musical instruments, since they are only the wooden plates upon which music was sometimes written; their moral is obvious; they bring back to memory the great invention of communication by means of written characters. But they also participate somewhat in the general clatter produced by the other wooden instruments; they are about fourteen inches long, and one inch wide, are twelve in number, to commemorate the twelve sounds of the scale, and serve to beat the measure of the music, by being struck lightly against the palm of the left hand. The twelve pieces are attached to each other by means of cords.
There is besides, a military instrument of wood (though also scarcely to be classed as musical) which is carved in the form of a fish, and is suspended in front of the general’s tent. When any person requires to see that official, he has but to strike this fish with two wooden sticks which are lying near by, and the audience is immediately granted; so greatly have the Chinese reduced language to various musical sounds, that by the mode of striking with the sticks, the applicant intimates, in a general manner, concerning what description of business the audience is requested.
There also exist in China a few other instruments of wood, from which regular series of tones can be produced, and upon which tunes can be played, but these latter seem not to be really Chinese in their origin, and are spoken of by the musical commentators of the country, as “strange instruments which have come into use in China.”
It seems, at first sight, as if this class of instruments should be placed under the head of “wood;” but the Chinese draw a very wide distinction between wood and bamboo, holding the latter in especial esteem, as being of all vegetation, the most useful to man; and they claim that nature in producing it, fitted it especially to the art of music. It is true that it required no great inventive faculty to extract tones from the hollow sticks of bamboo, and it is possible that music drawn from the bamboo was the earliest of the Chinese empire. One of the most famed of instruments made of this reed, is called the Koan-tsee. This is simply a set of pan’s pipes, arranged according to Chinese tonality; the superior (male) tones, called yang being given to one instrument, and the inferior (female) called yn to another, so that to have a melody in any modulations performed, two instruments and two musicians were required. This arrangement was too awkward to last forever; finally the two instruments were united in one, and instead of being weakly bound together by cord, as were the twelve pipes of the koan-tsee, two strips of thin board held the tubes in place; the number of pipes was also increased from twelve, to sixteen, and the new instrument called the siao.[113]
Of course the Chinese possess flutes, as well as other instruments of bamboo. The yo and ty are in some respects similar to our flutes, save that they have usually but three holes, and the tones have therefore to be produced by a more skillful use of the breath than is required on the European flute. An instrument of the flute family the use of which has become somewhat obsolete, is the tche. This is different from all other flutes, and is now but little played in China. The embouchure is exactly in the middle, both ends are stopped, and on each side of the embouchure are three holes. It was considered the most difficult of all flutes to play.
The calabash is a gourd of pumpkin shape, but somewhat smaller. In the instrument which we are about to describe, we shall see that the calabash (called pao by the Chinese) really emits no sound, but serves only as an air reservoir for one of the most wonderful instruments of ancient times. The cheng, which is the only instrument in which the calabash is used, is in fact a portable organ, and when we consider that this intricate instrument was invented about four thousand years ago, we are lost in astonishment that the invention did not lead to greater results; yet the Chinese have frequently, in other sciences as well, advanced to the threshold of great discoveries.
We will not detail to the reader, all the legends, symbols, and mythology attached to the cheng; suffice it to say that animal, mineral and vegetable nature is represented by it, and that to each part of it is appended some mystical meaning. The gourd is pierced and cleaned, and an aperture made for the air to enter, then the ends of from thirteen to twenty-four pipes of bamboo are inserted into as many holes cut in the gourd; each of these pipes contains in it a tongue of copper or gold, the vibration of which causes the sound; beneath this is a hole cut in the bamboo, through which aperture the air rushes without giving any sound, but when the hole is stopped by pressing a finger upon it, the air having no other outlet, is forced up the pipe, and striking the metallic tongue, gives out an agreeable reed sound. A curved mouth-piece through which the performer is to blow, is introduced at the centre of the gourd. The cheng contains all the elements of the reed organ, and it would be a simple matter to produce harmonies with it, and yet with this instrument in the world for four thousand years, it remained for moderns (comparatively speaking,) to discover the art of combining different sounds; but the invention of so well-conceived a reed instrument in such remote ages, certainly entitles the ancient Chinese to the utmost respect of their unconscious imitators, the Europeans.
There exist in China, some instruments which are not classed with either of the above eight kinds of tone. These we have thought best to group under the head of “miscellaneous,” though they are quite as important as any of the preceding, except perhaps, the king, cheng, and kin. The Chinese have long possessed a peculiar variety of fiddle, which at first appearance much resembles a mallet with cords stretched from the head to the handle; but the head of this primitive fiddle is hollow, and holds a sounding board, though a very small one, of gazelle’s skin. The sounds drawn from this oriental fiddle are said to set one’s teeth on edge; it is said to be the most execrable of all Chinese instruments. The invention of this fiddle cannot be ascribed to the Chinese, as it probably came from India originally. There also exist several Chinese instruments of a kind much resembling our guitars or banjos. The number of strings on these are variable.[114]
From remote antiquity, the Chinese have understood the ductility of metal, and it is not surprising that the trumpet is, with them, one of the oldest of instruments. These trumpets are made of all sizes and most peculiar shapes.[115] It appears that they are intended to give but two tones each, although being made of all sizes, a complete scale can be arranged by collecting ten or twelve of them. The music of them (as with the ancient Greeks) is judged only by the degree of loudness with which it is given, and even when several play together, there is no attempt at harmony, but each trumpeter repeats his two notes with vigor and persistency; the result is said to be most distressing to European ears. Yet it is possible to extract beautiful music even from single-toned trumpets, for in Russia, most exquisite melodies are rendered by bands of trumpeters, each of whom performs but one note, in the same manner as troupes of bell-ringers give whole pieces of music with small hand bells.
Tom-toms and gongs also appear frequently in the music of the empire; these are chiefly used to keep the time of the orchestra; there is also an instrument analogous to these, which consists of a series of metal basins, (usually of copper) from eight to ten in number, set in a frame. The whole instrument looks not unlike a cooking range with all its utensils. These basins are struck with a mallet, and produce sounds similar to, but less harsh than the gongs. The name of this unique apparatus is yin-lo.
Singular to relate, the Chinese have in their classification of eight musical sounds, utterly omitted to make any mention of the sound of the human voice. In all their great ceremonies, such as hymns of praise to Heaven, and commemoration of the ancestors, songs are used, but never, on these occasions are female voices allowed. In fact, the female, in music, occupies about the same position in China, as she once did in ancient Greece; the better class of respectable matrons do not study any art whatever; and the less respectable and the slaves, are allowed to perfect themselves in many arts of pleasing, among which a study of the lower branches of music, as well as a certain degree of general education is included. A slave is far more marketable with musical talents than without. But women always participated in orchestral music, and in a manner rather astonishing to us; they sometimes played the wind instruments. The singular custom of allowing the weaker sex to play the part requiring the strongest lungs was quite universal among ancient nations, and the Chinese may be regarded as a nation who have kept their ancient usages almost intact. It is seldom however, that women assist in any concerts whatever; the instrumental playing as well as the singing being almost always wholly rendered by men.
Few travellers have heard a musical Chinese lady sing, and those who have enjoyed this rare event, say it is the most torturing of all Chinese music; from the nose and throat issue the most droning and hideous sounds, and they seem to pile Ossa upon Pelion in the way of unnatural tones.
Although the female voice is therefore lacking in the concerted music of this singular people, the parts sometimes run very high for male voice and the singers for these parts are procured in the same manner in which the papal choir in the last century, procured its highest male voices.[116]
Of the divisions of the vocal parts in singing, very little is as yet known, although many books must exist upon the subject, which have hitherto been inaccessible to foreigners. The natural voice of the Chinese is rather high, and very high tenors are not at all rare in the empire.