CHAPTER VII.
After nine days of great enjoyment at Macao, our passage having been secured in the American steamer Spark, that plied between the latter place and Canton, we once more embarked, and were soon on our way to Whampoa.[15] The captain and first officer of the vessel were Americans, and our ensign, floating at the stern, reminded us pleasantly of home and Fatherland.
It was on the 11th of February, a beautifully clear, tropical winter morning, and, passing rapidly the fertile and lovely islands of the great Delta, we were soon at the mouth of the Bocca Tigris, or Bogue River. The islands of this delta were formerly greatly infested with pirates, and as we threaded the intricacies of the little Archipelago our attention was frequently directed to certain points noted as having been their rendezvous. Since the establishment of steam navigation, however, between Canton and Macao, and also between the former place and Hong Kong, travellers have rarely fallen into the hands of the pirates whose junks and fishing-boats were at one time common in those waters,—although in a few instances parties of these buccaneers have gone boldly as passengers on board the steamers with the intention of trying to take them. Their designs, however, have usually been discovered and frustrated; but after the disclosure of one of these plots it is customary to search all Chinese passengers on their coming on board, in order to see if they have any weapons concealed about their persons, and an armed guard is then placed over them until it is ascertained to be perfectly safe again to allow them unrestrained freedom. The steamers are armed, and the officers, as well as most of the foreigners, when travelling, carry pistols about them, so that there is now comparatively little to apprehend, for English authority is feared as well as respected in China.
Before reaching the mouth of the Bocca Tigris we sailed over a large expanse of water called the Linten Bay,—a name which it derives from an island situated in the southern part of the bay, and near which the opium ships used to anchor. Here we fell in with numerous trading and fishing-junks, and also with market and passenger-boats, which, in spite of their clumsy rigging, and heavy matting sails, moved with much rapidity through the water. The forms of many of these sails were singularly grotesque, and some of them reminded us very strongly of the wings of an enormous butterfly. Many of the vessels were painted in brilliant colors, and all had eyes traced on their prows. Indeed, it is a very uncommon thing to find a Chinese boat, or even a larger vessel, unprovided with these eyes; and if you ask a Chinaman the reason for so extraordinary a fashion, he usually replies,—“No got eye, no can see;—how fashion can makee walkee?”
The ruins and remains of the Bogue forts, at the entrance of the Bocca Tigris, are sufficient to give one an idea of the frail defences,—which they proved to be,—when exposed to the fire of European guns; and one of our party, at the first glance, remarked “that they must have made a man-of-war laugh.” There were ten of those fortifications, all of which were completely destroyed. One of them, situated on the mainland, was called hie shoe, from its resemblance in form to a Chinese lady’s shoe. A little further on we passed Tiger Island, so called because its outline, as seen when approaching from the river, is not unlike that of a tiger couchant.
Whampoa,—or the yellow anchorage,—where we arrived early in the afternoon, is a reach extending four miles along the river. It is twelve miles distant from Canton. Ships cannot ascend further than this point, but freight is carried to, and from them by means of large cargo-boats. The old town of Whampoa, with its tall pagoda, is situated on an island of the same name, which lies at the north of the anchorage. The banks of the stream on that side are very low; and although only the highest buildings, with an occasional minaret-like cupola, are visible above the foliage of the trees, it is strikingly Oriental in appearance. The people of the town have never been very friendly to foreigners, and consequently the place is but rarely visited. As we neared the anchorage, the low flat shores were far from wearing an inviting look, nor were the two miserably squalid villages of Bambootown, and Newtown,—which are occupied by fishermen and boat-people,—in the least attractive; although acting as foil, they helped to set off the picture, making the green hills and fertile little valleys of the large islands look all the more agreeable. On Dane’s Island are two extensive dry docks,—one belonging to an American firm, and the other to an English company. The latter is a very large stone structure, where the English mail-steamers and naval vessels are repaired and refitted. Although at that time there was less foreign shipping in the harbor than usual, still a number of vessels from the United States, as well as from England, and other European ports, were at anchor in the reach, and that part of the settlement in the vicinity of the docks, bore quite a business aspect.
Foreigners, whose business oblige them to reside at Whampoa, live in floating dwellings, called “chops.”[16] These are built on ships, which, after having seen some service, and their spars and rigging having been taken down, are then used as foundations for houses. They are moored in a part of the reach where the river is very wide, being placed a little on one side of the channel used by the steamers and trading vessels in passing and repassing to and from Canton. The cabins and state-rooms at the stern are converted into store-rooms, pantries, and bath-rooms. The forecastle is used for servants, and over the entire vessel a story is built, that is divided into large and conveniently arranged apartments, and when fitted up with all the necessary comforts of life, are in many ways far more desirable homes than can safely be made on shore. The kitchen is at the bow of the vessel; and from there to the centre,—near which is the boundary of the family apartments,—are the business offices, and also rooms for foreign clerks. On one side, a narrow passage-way leads from the kitchen to the family apartments. There is another similar passage-way on the other side, which, however, has no connection with the house apartments; and for the convenience of men of business visiting the offices, as well as for the servants, steps lead to the water from both of these passages. The flat roof of the family apartments is so constructed as to serve for a promenade. The latter, however, is not enclosed, but has a covering, the frame of which rests on stanchions; and in order to exclude the sun, shades, made of a kind of grass, are arranged so as to drop from the roof. A table, bamboo settees, and easy-chairs occupy a portion of this space, yet there is ample room for the enjoyment of one’s afternoon “constitutional,” when the weather does not allow of boating, or a ramble upon the shore. Some chops have little verandas, or galleries enclosed with Venetian blinds, which are built on each side of the family rooms, and resting on braces, extend from the sides of the ship upward. These are ornamental, and make the house cooler in summer and warmer in winter, thus adding greatly to the comfort of the family.
The low lands and rice-fields in the neighborhood of Whampoa render the climate malarious; but by being out in a stream with so swift a current as that of the Pearl,—called by us the Canton River,—the miasma does not readily reach the inmates of the floating houses, neither is the air loaded with the shocking odors that often greet one’s olfactories when in the vicinity of Chinese settlements. Although the hills and the pleasant vales, on the islands opposite, have many fine locations for dwellings, the time is not yet arrived when the advantages of shore-life can equal those of “chop”-life; and this manner of living, therefore, is preferred by the consuls, officers of the customs, traders, and foreigners generally.
Our steamer stopped when nearly opposite this floating community, and the passengers were conveyed to their homes in the sanpans of the Chinese boatmen. Our chop was a Baltimore clipper which had originally been built for the slave-trade; but not succeeding in that nefarious traffic, she was taken to China, and having been sold to the Imperial Government, a comfortable house was erected on her hull for the accommodation of the chief officer of their customs at Whampoa. Occidentals, who are not acquainted with chop-life in the East, invariably associate it with what they read in reference to the multitudes of poor people living in boats upon the waters of China, and hence imagine it to be a miserably half-civilized mode of existence. To such persons the idea must be accompanied with a poverty-stricken picture of discomfort, and an utter want of all the comforts of life, and the amenities of a cultivated home. On the contrary, however, my own experience in this novel mode of living was not only agreeable, but the oddity of it, together with our strange surroundings, gave it a peculiar charm. Our chop, comfortable in every arrangement, answered in exterior to the description already given of those built with verandas. There was one exception, however, as we had the advantage of an extra flight of steps for family use, which led from our own apartments to the water. The rooms were large and airy, with windows opening to the floors; and the latter being painted in figures and highly varnished, had the appearance of being covered with nice oil-cloth. The furniture,—like that of all foreign houses in China,—was European in the style of its manufacture.[17] Even the beautiful china-ware of the country,—which we admire so much at home,—is rarely used by foreigners when living among the Chinese; the simplest European table furniture being considered far preferable. Carpets are only used during the winter, when they are found to be very comfortable. During the year that I was in China, the winter was colder than usual, and we were glad to use the little American stoves with which our rooms were furnished. One of the few disagreeables of this kind of floating life was the constant change of view. We were continually turning with the ebb and flow of the tide, and consequently, if one sat at the same window a whole morning, there was an entire change of scene, and of course a corresponding change in the points of the compass. An inactive person, however, to whom variety is pleasing, might even enjoy this. The river at the anchorage is very broad and deep, and fearfully rapid,—so much so, in fact, that a person falling into it must be an expert swimmer in order to save himself.
The house-servants in China are all men, but Cantonese women are employed as nurses for children, and also as waiting-maids for the ladies. The enervating influence of the climate obliges Western women to take life easily; and being obliged to drop most of their active pursuits, they usually are greatly dependent upon the services of these women. The Chinese Amahs—as these nurses and waiting-maids are called—often have bright and genial faces; and when introduced into a household where all the servants wear the grave and stolid faces of Chinamen, are a great relief to the every-day picture of domestic life.
We found the men-servants very respectful and obliging, and not only as conscious of kind and fair dealing, but quite as grateful for it as the human race are generally. The Chinese are a patient, persevering, and industrious people, but they have not the appearance of a cheerful race. The respectable serving-women, with whom I came in contact, seemed more cheerful than the men, but even among them I rarely met with a joyous face. This, however, may in a great measure be owing to there being no day of rest like our Sabbath, and therefore no cessation from their daily toil, except on the occasion of some heathen festival. The children of the boat-people learn to work as soon as they can handle an oar; and those of the landsmen whenever their little forms have acquired strength sufficient to bear the bamboo shoulder-piece, and the little buckets of water, or small packages that pend from either end. I have rarely seen young children, or even men, bear such heavy burdens as they are accustomed to carry in China. The river at Whampoa,—always teeming with boat-life,—frequently presented sad objects of suffering poverty. I saw, however, among these boat-people many neat, comfortable, and apparently happy families.[18]
The head-servants employed by foreign families speak the “pigeon” English, and act as interpreters for the other domestics. This patois is nearly a literal rendering of the Chinese idiom into a dialect which is more like “English baby-talk” than anything else I can compare it to, and foreigners readily acquire it. The particular duties of each servant are regulated by fixed rules, and if one should order his “boy,” or head-servant, to sweep his room, or carry his trunk to the boat, the ready answer would be,—“That no my pigeon; my callee house-Coolie.” On the other hand, should the house-Coolie be ordered to purchase the supplies, or polish the silver, the grave but respectful answer would be,—“That no my pigeon; my callee boy.” A Coolie works for certain wages, and makes his own bargains, nor will he serve unless paid his price. Should a foreigner attempt to impose upon or cheat a Coolie, and the fact be made known to him after he had commenced his services, he would leave him directly. A chair-Coolie, under such circumstances, would set down the sedan, and in the most independent manner refuse to move unless his terms were complied with.
I am thus particular in speaking of this class of the Chinese, because the remark has been made to me that the difference as to their position in relation to foreigners, and the wealthier classes of their own people, must be as great as that of American slaves to their masters. But the difference between a people free to go where they please,—to make their own bargains, and to contend with their employers for right and justice,—and the poor enslaved African of the South, is as wide as that between light and darkness. As servants, I found the Coolies very systematic and willing, as well as quick at learning to perform their duties according to our ideas, or, as they would say, “America fashion.” A lady rarely, if ever, enters the kitchen, and all orders are given to the butler or head-servant. On ordering a dish in which the cook is unskilled, he brings his little furnace to a large pantry, where the lady of the house, with the aid of a waiting-man’s “pigeon” English, and an occasional use of unmistakable pantomime, succeeds in giving the grave and stolid-looking representative of the culinary art instruction that will not be forgotten. And ever after, that piece of cookery will be an exact copy of his first, and only needed lesson. On entering upon life in China I was told that I must not expect the servants to be in any degree nice and cleanly, according to our Western ideas. I was, however, so fortunate as not to be conscious of this; and although I regularly penetrated into nooks and corners,[19]—beyond what I should otherwise have done,—in order to mark the difference, the result was always favorable to the general neatness and tidy habits of our Coolies, as compared with most of the foreign servants we have in the United States.
With an Englishman his dinner is said to be the event of the day. It is, however, well known that an American is not altogether indifferent to that meal; but, be that as it may, inasmuch as English customs prevail in the little foreign circles at the ports of China, entertaining by dinner-parties is the dominant mode, and the arrival of a stranger is the signal for a round of “dinings out.” If served by the better class of Chinese servants, even those people who live in the simplest manner have no care nor trouble about such matters of hospitality. All orders in relation to the entertainment are given to the head-servant, who, on being told the number of guests expected, makes all the arrangements en regle, and serves the dinner as handsomely as can be desired. The wealthy merchants live luxuriously, and they, as well as some of the representatives of foreign governments, keep butlers who are proficient in their calling. A well-trained Chinese waiting-man, however, never deviates from the prescribed forms, all of which are carefully attended to wherever he serves.
A gentleman on being invited out to dine takes his servant with him, the latter always coming under the direction of the butler of the host, although the place of each is near the chair of his master, and all are waited on with quietness and precision. Probably the English—who have better trained servants than we have in the United States—may not remark these little matters as readily as an American, who has seen her countrywomen, on account of inefficient domestics, well-nigh appalled at the prospect of inviting a few guests to dinner. To all such, a household served by good Chinese servants would seem, in some respects, an Elysium.
Foreigners usually breakfast at a late hour, and frequently, in the summer, the greater part of the business of the day is transacted before taking that meal. They are served, however, on first rising, with what in India is called the “little breakfast.” This is brought to their rooms, and consists of a cup of tea, a bit of unbuttered toast, and some fruit. There are several varieties of the orange, and during the greatest part of the year that fruit is very abundant. The finest kinds are the mandarin, and the sweet Coolie orange. These, when in season, form a large portion of this early meal; and then the plantain, the lichi, a nice kind of plum, the peach, the mango, custard-apple, and persimmon, together with a few other fruits, reach into the early autumn, when the delicious oranges are again gladly welcomed.
The Chinese language knows but one gender, and when a lady speaks to a servant, he answers—“Sir,” the same as he does to a gentleman. Indeed, among the Chinese, woman seems to be as completely absorbed in the other sex, as some of their devotee bonzes are in the essence of Buddha. For example: if, in telling a servant that guests are expected to breakfast or dinner, he wishes to ask for what number he is to prepare the entertainment, he says,—“How many piece man hab got come?”—or, how many persons are coming? a woman as well as a man being always designated as a “one piece man.”
No reflecting woman, transferred from the pale of Christendom to a heathen land, can live there for any length of time without a profound feeling of gratitude that she was born and educated in a land of Bible religion. Foreigners rarely see the better class of women in China; but the condition of the lower class of females in any country is generally a pretty fair index to that of the higher classes, and judging by this standard, the condition of the highest in the “Central Flowery Land” is lamentable. The women of China carry their infants on their backs, and bind them to their persons with the same sort of contrivances that our Indians use in carrying their pappooses. It is common to see women, with their children thus snugly disposed of, sculling the sanpans, or engaged in other menial employments. This mode of carrying children is much approved by foreigners, whose Cantonese nurses often dispose of their infant charges in the same manner.
Most persons in the East are fond of boating; while those who are confined to “chop-life” are compelled, from the exigencies of their situation, to cultivate a taste for it. The well-appointed gigs and sanpans with which the Whampoa chops are supplied, afford a most agreeable manner of locomotion; the neatly-kept sanpan, in particular, with its nicely cushioned seats, and ample space for full dress, being a desirable substitute for a carriage, either for business or pleasure. Exercise in the open air is never more necessary than when living in a tropical climate; and if the weather did not admit either of boating, or walking on shore, we made use of our promenade. In fine weather, seeking the shores of French, or Dane’s Island, and taking the paths that crossed the unfenced fields in every direction, (there are no roads in China,) we rambled among the graves, or along the hill-sides, where we obtained views that were more or less picturesque, and sometimes very beautiful.
Upon the summit of a lofty hill on Dane’s Island, amid a fine growth of evergreens, is located the cemetery for the Parsee traders living at Canton. There are many charming landscapes to be seen from this eminence; and the country, with its well cultivated valleys, and populous villages, impresses one favorably as being a remarkably fertile region, and the inhabitants an industrious race of people. It not being deemed quite safe, we never ventured far from the river without having some one of our boat-people, in whom we had confidence, with us, as a sort of rear-guard.
The aspect of nature in China is not cheerful; nor does wandering amid its scenes always produce buoyancy of spirits, as it is wont to do in other lands. On the contrary, it is like wandering through a graveyard, for the country is one vast burial-ground, and the little tumuli, which one is constantly meeting at every step of out-door life, are but so many memento mori that lead one to the tenderly solemn thoughts with which one’s own home-places of interment are invested. The place of burial for the foreigners of Canton is upon a pleasant hill-side on French Island. Our first Minister to China—the Hon. Alexander Everett—lies interred there. A granite obelisk marks the spot. At the base of the same hill, where it forms a steep river bank, are the graves of a number of foreign sailors, who were interred there in the early days of the East India Company, when the dislike and opposition of the Chinese to “outside barbarians” was such that they would not allow them to be buried anywhere else. These graves are so near the water, that, at the flow of the tide, many of them are partially submerged.
The Bethel “chop,” which was occupied by the family of the chaplain, was provided with a large apartment built and fitted up expressly for a chapel, where services were held every Sunday. Where, however, as is the case in China, the boat-people, artisans, tradespeople, and pleasure-seekers are as intent in the pursuit of their several callings and amusements on Sunday, as on any other day, the soothing and grateful influences of a quiet Christian Sabbath cannot be enjoyed. The Bethel clergyman had also a place in Bambootown, where, during the week, he performed missionary work among the natives.
No people can exceed the Chinese in their love of noise; hence, fire-crackers, gongs, tom-toms, and other musical instruments of harsh and strangely discordant notes are in request, not only at marriages, and other festivals, but also at funerals. Scarcely a day passed at Whampoa, without some one of these occasions producing a most heathenish racket. If asked what the uproar was about, the answer would sometimes be, “One piece man hab makee die,” or, “One piece man hab makee marry;” or perhaps it was the festival of some heathen god, and then the reply would be,—“Some chin-chin joss,” or, “Some joss pigeon.”[20]
One day Mr. W—— having asked a worker in camphor-wood if he could have some articles which he was making for us completed at a certain time, he was answered with—“No can, my old muder hab makee die; my must go bury he.” Thinking that the woman had just died, and admiring the man’s filial affection, our sympathies were at once excited. On making further inquiries, however, we learned that the man’s mother had been dead two or three years, but that he did not wish to tell a foreigner that the season had come when he must visit the graves of his fathers, and perform the customary ancestral adorations. The first part of April is the season for performing this idolatrous service. It is called pai shan, or worshipping at the hills, and is the time when all the people—men, women, and children—visit their family graves; where, after renewing, or putting them in neat order, they present sacrifices of food, offer libations, and burn incense. After going through various idolatrous ceremonies and prayers, pieces of red and white paper are placed at the back part of the graves or tombs, where they are made secure by placing small fragments of turf upon them. These bits of paper remain a long time as evidence that the customary annual rites have been performed. In our daily walks upon the island, directly after this season, we observed that scarcely a grave had been neglected.
The worship of Manes is the chief idolatry of the nation; and besides their yearly adorations at the hills, nearly every house has an “ancestral hall,” which is a room where wooden tablets, sacred to the dead,—called shin chu, i. e., “house of the spirit,”—are set up and worshipped. These tablets are about twelve inches in length by three in width, and have the name, rank, date of birth, and death, carved in the wood. While at Fuh-chau, the wife of a missionary of the American Board presented me with a tablet which had formerly belonged to, and been worshipped by, an old gentleman who is now a member of the Fuh-chau Mission Church. It was, however, lost when I fell into the hands of the pirates, but fortunately the note accompanying it was among the few papers which I saved; and in order to illustrate more fully the nature of this kind of worship, I quote from it what my friend wrote in regard to the history of the tablet:—
“From the old gentleman to whom the tablet belonged, I have this morning gathered the following facts: It represented his father, and is fifty-six or seven years old. He says he used to think his father’s spirit was in it, but now he regards it as wood, and does not think so. It was worshipped on the first and fifteenth of each month; also at New Year, and at feast times. By a little computation, then, we find that this senseless block of wood has been worshipped more than a thousand times; or rather, we should say, that the spirit which was supposed to inhabit it has thus been worshipped. Of course I cannot say definitely as to the number of times, as circumstances may sometimes have arisen to prevent the regular worship. This reminds one of Elijah’s address to the prophets of Baal. The old man himself is sixty years of age. His name is Ka-Hang, and I believe he has been connected with our church more than a year.”
The English Consul resided at Canton, and the vice-consul, Dr. H——, who was stationed at Whampoa, occupied a three-decker man-of-war, which was the largest “chop” at the anchorage. This accomplished English official,—who is a naturalist, and well known to some of our men of science in New England,—with his cultivated family, added greatly to the attractions and agreeableness of the singularly novel kind of life which we led at Whampoa; while a few other pleasant neighbors, together with frequent intercourse with friends at Canton, afforded sufficient variety to prevent it from becoming wearisome.
Every kind of life has its disagreeable features; our own, during “chop-life,” being made up of occasional fears lest we should be run into by Chinese vessels. Although these were not allowed to sail on our side of the reach, they were sometimes drifted by the current, driven by the wind, or perhaps badly steered, until they came unpleasantly near us. At night, notwithstanding both European and Chinese watchmen were constantly on the alert, if any unusual noise was heard without, the idea of a possible collision with a clumsy junk was fearful. One day, while at dinner, Mr. W——’s attention was arrested by an unusual noise, which evidently proceeded from Chinese sailors. He hastened out to inquire into the cause of the wild commotion, and in a few moments came rushing back, saying that an immense junk was coming upon the chop, and bade me follow him to our private entrance, where he had ordered our faithful boatman, As-sing, to bring round the sanpan and take us off. Our position was fearful; and even if it had not been, the frightful screams and vociferations of the Chinese would have well-nigh made it seem so, their dreadful clamor producing a scene of such terror and confusion, that, for a short time, we were nearly powerless. As we were about stepping into our boat, however, a message came that the vessel was clearing us, and we escaped with only a slight injury to the roof of our promenade. The poor sailors were the more terrified from the fact that they were aware the “chop” belonged to their Government; and knowing that they had no business on that side of the stream, they were appalled by the prospect of the severe punishment which would surely follow should they happen to sink us. Being panic-stricken, and unable to manage their craft, they must have drifted directly upon us, had not an European seaman been sent aboard the junk to get her out of the neighborhood of our vessel.
The mercury was at 80° in April, and averaged from 88° to 90° in May. Unless a thunder-storm was approaching, however, this degree of heat did not oppress us as it would have done at home. Through the spring and early part of the summer, while the rainy season lasted, the dampness, which penetrated everywhere, covered many things with mould. Storms were then quite frequent, and the thunder and lightning very terrific. Sometimes there was one continuous roar and constant blaze during the whole night, while the rain fell in torrents; and on one occasion a fearfully crashing bolt struck the water within a few rods of our “chop.”