Journeys on the Silk Road by Joyce Morgan Read Free Book Online Page B

cheerful Father Hendricks, a Roman Catholic priest welcomed by Chinese and Europeans alike. In his well-worn Chinese coat topped with a black clerical hat, Hendricks was a familiar sight as he scurried around the oasis—he was always in a hurry—collecting and relaying the latest news. So well informed was the entertaining Father Hendricks that Stein dubbed him a “living newspaper.” Hendricks had arrived in 1885, but his past was a mystery. He never spoke of it, and in all his years in Kashgar he never received a letter. In two decades at the oasis, he made few converts, other than a Chinese shoemaker. Yet he celebrated Mass each day alone in his dingy hovel on an altar made from a packing case and covered with a soiled lace cloth. His chief talent, aside from socializing, was turning the abundant supply of local grapes each autumn into wine. Hendricks had no income and survived on charity. The bearded, bespectacled priest lived on scraps of bread and vegetables until Macartney arrived in Kashgar and began sharing his meals with him. Hendricks eventually moved into Chini Bagh, but insisted on moving out when Macartney married, though he remained a frequent visitor.
    From his Kashgar listening post of Chini Bagh, Macartney represented British interests and subjects in the region. The latter were mostly Hindu money-lenders from distant Shikarpur in India’s Sindh province who had spread across Turkestan plying a trade prohibited to Muslims. About the money-lenders, few had a good word to say. Their interest rates were exorbitant and locals unable to repay their debts risked becoming virtual slaves. So it was little wonder there were tensions between the two groups that Macartney had to smooth out. These had political implications as British prestige and influence could suffer because of the behavior of its subjects.
    Macartney regularly sent his masters secret bulletins apprising them of incidents around the oases. They learned, for example, how a Muslim woman had been caught in the room of a Hindu cook. A 500-strong mob of men wanted her stoned and the cook’s face blackened. Peace was eventually restored and the cook fined fifty rupees—the woman’s fate is unknown.
    As George Macartney kept his eye on British interests and Russian movements, his wife transformed the modest house, which until her arrival had been inhabited by single men, into an oasis within an oasis. The more exotic pets of Macartney’s bachelor days departed. “Wolves, leopards, and foxes did not appeal to me,” Mrs. Macartney commented. Instead, a pair of geese took up residence within the house, and one could often be found nestled beside Mrs. Macartney in the drawing room. Despite the livestock, Stein described Chini Bagh as having all the comforts of an English home. Mrs. Macartney installed lamps and rugs and even a well-traveled Cramer piano that survived at least one soaking in a river on its way across Russia. The couple’s first child, Eric, also survived the accident-prone trip. Born while his parents were on leave in England in the autumn of 1903, the boy was just five months old when he was wrapped in bedding and carried on horseback over mountains. “Baby had three falls, two on the snow . . . & another on the hard ground . . . [but he] did not even wake during these mishaps,” Macartney wrote to Stein. By the time Stein returned to Kashgar in 1906, Mrs. Macartney had just given birth to Sylvia, the second of her three children.
    Mrs. Macartney soon got to grips with local customs, at times to her own embarrassment. She quickly learned that the Hindu guard of honor who greeted her arrival with rupees in the palms of their hands were offering respect. She was expected to touch the money, not pocket it. She created a shady garden and an orchard of peaches, apricots, figs, and mulberries. She took charge of the staff, including three Indian servants in red and gold uniforms topped with white turbans. And she oversaw the gardener, a