CHAPTER VIII.
While living at Whampoa we went often to Canton, passing, altogether, a month there in visiting friends, and places of interest. Steamers carrying passengers and freight were despatched every alternate day from Hong Kong and Macao, to Canton,—running up and down the estuary and river; but although these boats always stopped at Whampoa, my first sail up the river to the “City of Genii”—as an old legend terms it—was made in a sanpan, which was rowed by three Chinese boatmen, and sculled by a woman.
It was a clear and balmy morning in February,—the weather being more like one of our cool and perfect summer days at home, when one always feels the appositeness of Herbert’s lines:—
The New-Year festival had closed the day previous, but the Chinese vessels and boats were still bedecked with their holiday trappings. The newly painted junks with their butterfly sails, fancy streamers, and red flags, made quite a gay appearance, and together with the passenger-boats, cargo-boats, and sanpans,—from which were also fluttering bright flags, streamers, and red papers,—produced a scene at once unique and brilliant.
The land, on both sides of the river, which is low, is mostly used for the cultivation of rice; and husbandmen, with their rude ploughs drawn by buffalo oxen, were already preparing the soil to receive the seed. The plantain, with its long, heavy clusters of ripening fruit, was growing in great luxuriance upon the borders of the stream.
We had scarcely passed the pagoda in the neighborhood of Old Whampoa, and the towering one of nine stories on Lob Creek, when the Barrier pagoda came full in view. These tall structures, shooting up at different points in a landscape of low, flat country, not only relieve the monotonous sameness of the picture, but greatly embellish the scene. Here we also passed the ruins of the Barrier Forts that were destroyed by our lamented Commodore Foote. We observed while in China that the name of no American naval commander was as frequently mentioned as that of this officer; the most casual allusion to him always bringing forth an eulogium upon his gentlemanly and consistent Christian character, as well as upon his skill and fine judgment as an officer. Above these ruins we met a two-masted vessel of some petty Mandarin. Both wind and tide being against her, she was towed by Coolies, who ran along the river’s bank,—like horses towing a canalboat,—while pulling at the line of rope that was fastened to her. Near this scene an Imperial fleet of four men-of-war and eight gun-boats were lying at anchor. These were newly painted vessels, and although an occasional line of black and white relieved the garish brilliancy of the red, the latter was the prevailing color. This fleet was part of a naval force which was mustering at Canton, and were to be sent North to fight the rebels. For some months it made Canton its rendezvous, and finally numbered sixty vessels of war, besides a large flotilla of covered boats for soldiers. On the 27th of July following, however, when nearly ready to proceed North, it was dispersed and destroyed by one of the most terrible typhoons that ever visited Southern China. The men-of-war were huge junks, with monstrously fierce eyes—such as the Chinese always give their Imperial dragon—painted upon their prows. They were undoubtedly designed to strike the natives with awe; and their wildly grotesque and terrible appearance was admirably adapted for that purpose.
The appearance of Canton, as approached by the river, is low, squalid, and uninviting. The most conspicuous objects are the watch-towers upon the city walls, and the pagodas, which tower above all other buildings. The houses are mostly of one story, and stretch along the river for more than four miles. Those built nearest the water rest on piles which are driven into the sand; and these, with the lower parts of the city, are subject to inundations. Far out into the river, and along the banks, the water was nearly covered with boats of various colors and sizes. The largest and most conspicuous were the Flower and Mandarin boats,—these being, as a general thing, highly ornamented with carvings and gildings, and, being painted in brilliant colors, made a very showy appearance. There was also a long and narrow little craft called the Snake-boat, which is much used in towing larger vessels when they have to stem the tide. Near the city we passed one of these having a Mandarin-boat in tow.
Some of the foreigners at Canton have a pleasure-boat called the Matrimonial, which, luxurious in its appointments, is finely arranged to meet the necessities of a warm climate. Our countryman, Mr. G——, the Commissioner of the Imperial Customs, had one of these, which he kindly placed at our disposal whenever we were in the city; and all our boating, when visiting the places of interest upon the river, was done in it. The spacious cabin, which was furnished with divans and pillows, was also enclosed with Venetian blinds, which were so arranged as to be readily removed if the sun was obscured, or when at evening we visited the Macao Passage, in order to enjoy the cooling influence of the southwest monsoon.
In the middle of the river, nearly where the boat-life is the most animated, there is a little green island, called by the Chinese “Eastern Sea-fish Pearl,” but by foreigners “Dutch Folly,”—which, with its fine old trees, and few oddly fantastic Chinese buildings, adds greatly to the picture of busy life.
Before the bombardment of Canton by the Allies, the business hongs and homes of the foreign merchants, called the “Factories,” were in the western suburb. These being situated on the river had an airy location, which afforded a cool and agreeable residence to Europeans. Since the destruction of these factories, however, the merchants have had their hongs at Honam. This is an island which lies directly opposite the city, and forms one of its extensive suburbs. Foreigners have now a more desirable place for building than that formerly occupied by them in the western suburbs. For this purpose a large portion of ground, also situated on the river, but farther up the stream than the factories, was ceded to the Allies in the last treaty of peace made between them and the Imperial Government. Along its border, facing the river, a high sea-wall has been built, and the whole area prepared for the erection of buildings. The place is called “Shameen,” or “new sand,” “beach face;” and being situated opposite the fork of the river that forms the Macao Passage, it is one of the most airy and desirable localities for foreigners in Canton. This passage is formed by the branching of the river at a point nearly opposite the Shameen. Here a large portion of the water from the rivers of the North (which flow in a southerly direction) passes around the island of Honam. A great part of this water, however, again joins the Pearl River near Whampoa; while the remainder, continuing to flow south, enters the great Delta nearer the sea. During the summer months the southwest monsoon blows with refreshing coolness up this passage, which renders it the favorite resort of foreigners, who in their boats seek the middle of the stream, where, lying on their oars, they enjoy the delicious and gratefully invigorating air. When we were at Canton in the spring of 1862, very few dwellings had been erected on the Shameen. Large bungalows, however, with thatched roofs, and neatly covered verandas, had been put up by some of the merchants as temporary summer retreats from the stifling heat of their hongs at Honam.
“The earliest notices of the city of Canton date back two centuries before Christ; but traders were doubtless located here prior to that time. It grew in importance as the country became better settled, and in A. D. 700, a regular market was opened, and a collector of customs appointed. When the Manchus overran the country, this city resisted their utmost efforts to reduce it for the space of eleven months, and even then was only carried by treachery. Martini says that 100,000 men were killed during this siege,—the whole number who lost their lives while the city was invested being 700,000, if the native accounts are trustworthy. Since then it has been rebuilt, and has increased in prosperity, until it is regarded as the fourth city in the Empire in point of numbers.”[21]
“The foundations of the city walls are of sandstone, and their upper part brick. They are about twenty feet thick, and from twenty-five to forty feet high, having an esplanade on the inside, and pathways leading to the ramparts on three sides. That part of the city within the walls is about six miles in circumference; and its whole circuit, including the suburbs, is ten miles. The streets are narrow, and well paved with stone. Both the land and water population, as computed by the most reliable data, is about 1,000,000.”[22]
The chair-Coolies of Canton are said to be among the best in China. They are very strong, and from much practice acquire a carriage which gives a delightfully equal motion to the chair. They doubtless have learned this from being obliged to carry their own people with care; for if a disagreeable motion is given to the chair of a Chinese gentleman, or lady, the bearer will be sure to receive a reprimand. These men being remarkably fleet of foot, pass rapidly over the ground, and seem to prefer a brisk dog-trot pace to a fast walk. They usually wear a sandal made of strong grass, and with a gait peculiarly their own, touch the pavement with a nervously strong and firm tread.
Several of the American Missionaries live in the suburb called Sun Sha, which is nearly opposite the south gate of the city, and occupying houses that front on the river, they have the benefit of the refreshing summer breeze. The hospital connected with the Mission—which was formerly in the charge of Dr. Parker—is also located there, and is now under the management of Dr. Kerr. A Mission station, and a branch of this hospital, have also been established at Fatshan,—a town on the river, ten or fifteen miles west of Canton,—where the silk fabrics, matting, and most of the other articles exported from Canton are manufactured. This hospital is also under Dr. Kerr’s care, who devotes a certain portion of his time in personal attention to the patients. We were indebted to the kind politeness of this gentleman—who speaks the language, and is familiar with the temples, as well as other places of interest—for most of the enjoyment of our first excursion in looking after the “lions” of Old Canton.
One morning early in March, taking sedan-chairs, with Dr. Kerr in advance, we left the Missionary quarters, and traversing several narrow streets,—among which was that occupied by the butchers and bakers,—finally entered a comparatively broad and quiet street in the New City, where the residences of the Chinese officials were situated. This brought us to the Wan-shau-kung, or Imperial Presence Hall, where, three days before, and three days after the Emperor’s birthday, the high officials and people come to drink tea, and pay adoration to his Majesty.
The dragon,—that never-failing insignia of rank and grandeur in China,—together with the royal color, yellow, were conspicuous in all the embellishments of the establishment. This is the only building in Canton that is roofed with yellow tile. Here a large tablet is erected to the Emperor, upon which the expression,—“The Emperor of ten thousand years; ten thousand times ten thousand years,” are traced in Chinese characters. The characters for “ten thousand years” also appear upon some of the pillars sustaining the presence-chamber, and upon every panel of the low stone fence enclosing the temple. These expressions are doubtless designed to teach the people that their Emperor is an infinite superior,—a sort of deity, and an object worthy of adoration. Guarding the people’s entrance to this temple were two rampant lions—frightful burlesques—sculptured in stone. Our bearers threaded the narrow and crowded streets with perfect ease. The confused bustle, however, together with the noise of our own chair-Coolies, calling out “Lai! Lai!” or, clear the way, combined with that of the hundreds of other Chinamen, who in one unbroken stream were passing and repassing us, was in some degree fearful, and well-nigh deafening.
As we passed on in the midst of these surroundings, we finally entered one of the gates of the Old City, and threading a long street occupied by stone-cutters, reached a Confucian temple, sacred to the Goddess of Literature. The idols of this temple consist of simple tablets dedicated to Confucius, and other sages. Highly ornamented ones, also, of very large size, and brilliantly painted,—having been presented to the temple by different emperors,—were suspended above those of the sages. No tablets of the latter,—not even that of Confucius,—can receive equal honor and adoration with that of the Emperor. At each side of these, on tables or small altars, were arranged smaller tablets of the disciples of Confucius. The handsome roof of this temple—which had the appearance of being groined—was painted in a dark rich brown and deep red, reminding us of the fretted Gothic style.
The entrance to the Temple of Mars—which we next visited—was guarded by fierce-looking lions; and being in mourning for the Emperor, Heen Fung, then recently deceased, was draped with white. The floor was also covered with white calico. Here, when the Emperor dies, the high officials and military men repair; and for three days—bowing and prostrating themselves before an empty throne—mourn and bewail the dead. An appointed groaner leads in these wails and prostrations; and when the mourners have assumed the attitude of humble grief, a signal is given, and the yellow silk curtains in front of the throne being drawn around them, they are left to their sorrow.
Leaving the Temple of Mars, we were carried through several streets to the southwestern part of the town, where the principal college is located. This institution is called the Kung Yuen, or Hall of Literary Examination. Students from the different districts of the province come here for examination, previous to taking their second literary degree.[23] The establishment is extensive, and has a large, open space, in which are eight thousand cells, or low compartments, built of brick, where the candidates for literary honors are confined while writing their essays. A student on entering his cell is only allowed to take with him his writing materials and cooking utensils, and is carefully examined to prevent his secreting any book or manuscript about his person. These cells are only about five feet in length, by three or four in width; being built in parallel rows, and so arranged as to form narrow passages between. The entrance to each passage is guarded by a small dragon gate, upon which the name is traced in Chinese characters. The examination hall, and other apartments fitted up for the use of the examining committees and official visitors, are ornamented with blue, red, and yellow. On the long and spacious avenue leading from the street there are three gates, each opening into a temple; the further one, conducting directly to the cells, being peculiar both in structure and ornament, as well as lofty and imposing. The place was much injured at the bombardment of the city by the Allies, the cells for the students being at that time destroyed. They have, however, been rebuilt, and the whole establishment thoroughly repaired, so that it was in very good condition at the time of our visit.
When going to the eastern gate of the city we traversed a portion of the fine military road that skirts a part of the north wall. It is macadamized, and was made by the English, on their first occupation of the place, for the more convenient carriage of supplies of food and ammunition to the troops stationed on the heights at the north part of the town. In order to have a ready communication between these heights and the city, there was also a line of telegraph wires put up along the course of this road. The houses in Canton are built close to the walls; therefore, in making such a road, many of the citizens were compelled to have their houses removed or torn down. The deep and lofty arch of the great eastern gate is built with outside bastions, and has a double gateway. A sort of citadel, in the pagoda style of architecture, is also built upon the massive walls directly over the arch. At the time of our visit this citadel was occupied by a small number of Chinese troops, who, under an officer called a “leader of sixty,” were stationed there as a guard. From the upper story of this citadel there is an extensive view of the city, its suburbs, and the surrounding country.
The Chinese name of the street extending from the east to the west gate, and passing through the heart of the city, is, when rendered into English, the “Street of Benevolence and Love.” By the foreigners, however, it is called East and West Street. As a striking instance of the “westward march” of the Chinese mind, we observed, in passing through this street, an advertisement of Dr. Jayne’s medicines posted in a conspicuous place near a tablet of the sage Confucius. In this part of the town we visited a Confucian temple, which, malgré its Chinese architecture and ornament, was really beautiful. It belonged to the literati of the district or county, and was an educational establishment or college, where students take their first literary degree.[24] The buildings are of granite, having ornate roofs covered with highly glazed green tile.
Near one of the city prisons we met a deplorable-looking prisoner, who, chained and led by his keeper, presented a fitting introductory scene to the Temple of Horrors, which we were about to enter. The open space fronting this temple was mostly occupied by the stalls of fortune-tellers, gamblers, dealers in incense-paper, beggars, and crowds of Chinese. In fact, the appearance of the outer court was too much like Pandemonium to admit of a very close inspection, and I found myself oppressed with a sensation of fear as my chair was borne through it. I therefore merely took a hurried glance at the interior of the apartments where the different tortures of hell were represented. These were too cruelly shocking, and too painfully suggestive of Dante’s “Inferno,” to allow of any description. Apartments a little off from these were devoted to idols, before whom the poor, besotted people were bowing in worship.
Our transition from this temple of horrid spectacles to the Yamun, or residence of the Imperial Treasurer of the province, was delightfully refreshing. The avenue leading to this place was bordered with ancient banians, and in a large park deer were grazing. The grounds, besides having pretty flower-gardens, were ornamented with arches, rock-work, and little fancy buildings. Large sculptured lions, of fierce aspect, stood guard at the outer gate; but the roar of the Chinese lion has proved itself as deficient in power, as these representations were defective in truthfully delineating that animal, and we found the French flag floating above them. The place, although falling to decay, was like an extensive villa in the heart of a walled city. It was taken from the Chinese when the Allies entered Canton, and, as “might makes right,” in accordance with the demands of the French Government, it fell into their hands. At the time of our visit it was occupied by Baron Trenqualye, a French official, who, in the very tranquil enjoyment of the poor treasurer’s usurped abode, was taking his siesta when we sent in our cards.[25]
At a temple called the Pavilion of the Fire Genii, our attention was directed to the print of a man’s foot in a rock, which, by the Buddhists, is called Buddha’s Foot. The Chinese consider this temple one of the most remarkable “lions” of the city; but we had already seen so many gilded images that the fantastically arrayed genii of this pavilion made but little impression upon us.
In alighting from our chair at the Mohammedan mosque,—which is nothing more than a plain temple,—we were immediately surrounded and pressed upon by a motley crowd of men, women, and children. The greater part of them were miserable beggars, and as some were suffering from disease, as well as poverty, their near neighborhood was not only disagreeable, but fearful. Giving a hurried glance, therefore, at the interior of the building, we returned to our chairs, and were borne to the Tartar portion of the city. There, happy and cheerful-looking women came to the doors, and smiling, bowed as we passed. The ears of these Tartar women were pierced in three places, and from every puncture little hoops of gold or silver wire were pendant.
There is no place in the world where a crowd collects in a shorter time than in the streets of Canton; and a woman from the West, when looking after the “lions” of the city, seems to be regarded with quite as much interest as a whole menagerie of wild animals. Whether at a shop or at a temple, we were immediately followed by a great crowd, so that it was not only difficult, but exceedingly disagreeable to move about. At one of the Confucian temples the students, or literati, occupying it were so eager and curious to see the European woman write her pencilled notes, that some of them drew near and looked over my shoulder. A woman educated to write was a rara avis to these civil and scholarly followers of the wise Confucius. Laughing, however, and chatting very agreeably with Dr. Kerr, they seemed to regard such an encroachment upon the sphere, which is almost entirely monopolized by their sex in China, very good-naturedly. Sometimes, when being carried along the street, I found it difficult to suppress a smile as the natives, with staring eyes and mouths agape, peered and gazed at me through the windows of my chair, or, stretching their necks, essayed to look in at the door.
I can never forget my first Sunday in Canton, nor with what painful sadness I passed through the busy streets of the suburbs of Honam, when on our way to attend service at the English Chapel. It was pitiful to see the poor shopkeepers, artisans, and laborers toiling and pursuing their avocations as usual. The streets were filled with the same restless, noisy, and jostling crowd. There were the open shops, and the money-changers sitting at the corners of the business thoroughfares, with piles of copper cash before them. It was a most melancholy reflection that the people had no Sunday, and knew nothing of its peaceful and soothing influence.
It is hardly possible to realize the sad condition of heathen people until one has lived among them. Perhaps this total ignorance and disregard of the Sabbath, and also of everything growing out of a Christian civilization, when witnessed among a people like the Chinese, who, besides being in a great measure civilized and educated, are much advanced in a knowledge of the arts, and also in the polite amenities of life, is more prolific of grievous thoughts than when met with among the untutored savage tribes. The people, however, were well aware that the day was sacred to the Christian; and a few—among whom I observed some of the better class of Chinese—were gathered in little groups at the corner of a street on which the chapel was situated, where they watched the gathering of the congregation with evident interest.
The marriage processions—which are common in the streets of Canton—are usually more curious than imposing. They consist of a display of highly ornamented and gilded sedan-chairs, which are occupied by the bride, her friends, and also by her trousseau and presents. These are preceded by a band of music, and followed in the rear by a number of men and boys wearing short red robes, and carrying red boxes that contain the marriage feast. If the parties are of high rank, there is a long procession of people carrying honorary tablets, flags, fancy lanterns, umbrellas, and various other articles. We, however, were not fortunate enough to meet any of this class.[26]
Most of the business streets, both of the old and new city, have their specialties. Besides the streets of the butchers and bakers, we passed through several devoted to the dealers in fruits and vegetables, the street of the stone-cutters, a long street occupied by the workers in iron and brass, and also one made up entirely of cabinet-makers. The shops of the latter are large, and in many of them we observed that the mechanics were sawing and preparing their lumber with hand-saws. In Southern China, where there are neither horses nor machinery to aid the people in their labors, it is surprising to observe with what comparative ease and skill they perform their work. A street of old clothes and second-hand furniture shops, is called, by the foreigners, the Chatham Street of Canton. Itinerant tailors, cobblers, and barbers are found, in every part of the city, plying their trades by the wayside.
Groups of squalid beggars, intent upon the destruction of the animated nature that infests their miserable garments, are seen crouching at every vacant spot along the streets, and near the temples of both the city and its suburbs. Sadly diseased people, also,—some of whom were suffering from leprosy,—we frequently met near the temples. These, and kindred scenes, together with the vile odors often encountered, make many parts of the city the most disagreeably disgusting places in the world.
Chinese officials are regarded with great deference by the people; and foreigners also, who are in the service of the Imperial Government, are treated with much respect. In visiting the places of interest in the western suburbs, I was escorted by Mr. G—— and Mr. W——, both of whom belonged to the latter class, and consequently we did not suffer the usual annoyance from street crowds. Although Mr. G—— —who has, in another place, been spoken of as Imperial Commissioner of Customs at Canton—was in some measure acquainted with the language, a Chinese linguist also accompanied us, and going sometimes in advance to clear the way, caused a general stampede of all idlers, and prevented any disagreeable gathering of the people at the places where we stopped.
The gentry of Canton live in the western suburbs, and many of their residences are on Howqua Street, which is one of the widest and cleanest in the city. The private residences—which are built of a gray brick, with walls twenty-five or thirty feet in height—are situated directly on the street, their fronts presenting no opening except the door. Many of them cover a large surface,—stretching far along the street,—and are so constructed as to appear like a series of small buildings, each of which terminates in an angle or recess. To form these angles, the wall, which begins plumb to the street-line, gradually recedes until it reaches a point of perhaps not more than one or two feet back of its commencement, when it turns, and making a right angle, is built straight back to the street line; another turn is then made, and the wall is again carried in the same receding line as at first; and in this manner the work is continued until the front wall of the mansion is completed. The Chinese—who are always propitiating some evil power, or malign influence—believe that these angles will prevent the escape of “good luck” from the street, and thus shield themselves and their families from misfortune.
Howqua and Pun-Tingqua—two well-known Chinese gentlemen of influence and wealth—have their private residences on Howqua Street. The walls of their dwellings are built like those just described; and judging from the great extent of front occupied by Pun-Tingqua, his establishment must be very extensive.
On our way to the western suburbs we passed a large stall at the corner of one of the streets, where nothing but dog-meat was sold. That animal, which we observed carefully skinned and dressed, was suspended and exposed for sale like a lamb at one of our butcher’s shops.
A few streets further on brought us to the cat-market, where the mewing creatures, well fatted and exhibited in cages, were being purchased for the table. We had always been rather sceptical in regard to the assertion that dogs and cats were used as food by the “celestials;” but having this ocular proof of the fact our incredulity vanished.