Several very distinct and beautiful Azal_Three Years' Wanderings in the Northern Provinces of China Including a visit to the tea, silk, and cotton countries; with an account of the agriculture and horticulture of the Chinese, new plants, etc.

collections at Shanghae, as well as many other plants of an ornamental

character which have not yet been described. I fully expect that many

of these will prove hardy enough to thrive in the open air in England,

and that others will make excellent plants for the greenhouse.

Being now well acquainted with the country in the immediate vicinity

of Shanghae, I was anxious to extend my researches into the interior,

particularly as far as some hills which were said to be about thirty

miles distant, in a westerly direction. It was extremely difficult

to gain any information on this subject from the Chinese, who were

particularly jealous of foreigners going any distance inland. Their

suspicious feelings had also been much increased at this time, by the

indiscretion of some of our own countrymen, who had hired a boat and

gone a considerable distance up one of the rivers, taking soundings

with bamboo poles, in the manner of the Chinese. The authorities

suspected that they had some particular object in view in ascertaining

the depth of the river, and immediately complained to Captain Balfour,

the English consul, who was consequently obliged to notice the

circumstance.

Being determined, however, to make an effort to accomplish the object

I had in view, I procured a pony and a pocket compass, and started

off one morning early on a voyage of discovery. The hills were said

to lie westerly, and in that direction I rode for eight or ten miles

without seeing anything higher than a mound of earth. The compass was

my only guide both in going and also in finding my way back again; the

roads were generally not more than four or six feet wide, but still

the country had its highways and byways, and for a length of time I

was fortunate enough to keep on the former; as long as I did so, I got

easily over the numerous canals which intersect the country in all

directions, because wherever these are crossed by the main road, good

substantial stone bridges are erected. At last I got a glimpse of the

hills in the distance, and in my anxiety to take the shortest road, I

lost sight of the highway, and got entangled amongst byways and canals.

I was soon in a somewhat critical position, the bridges which I was

constantly crossing were old, narrow, and rotten, and the feet of my

pony were every now and then getting entangled between the planks.

At length we came to one much worse than the others, and although I

got off and did every thing to persuade the pony to follow me over

it, with great reluctance he attempted to do so, but when about the

centre of the bridge, his feet got fast in the rotten planking, and in

the struggle to free himself, the centre gave way; I had just time to

spring to the bank, when the bridge and pony both fell into the canal.

Luckily for me the poor animal swam to the side I was on, and allowed

me to catch him when he got out of the water: he was completely covered

with mud, and my saddle and bridle were of course in a sad condition.

By the assistance of some labourers who were at work within a short

distance, I was soon enabled to get out of this network of canals, and

regain the main road; but this was a lesson to me, and as long as I

was in China, I never afterwards went off the main road when I was on

horseback.

I reached a small town in the vicinity of the hills about two o'clock

in the afternoon; the pony having had nothing to eat since we left

Shanghae, was much exhausted, and I was therefore anxious to procure

a feed of corn for him at some of the shops. The news of the presence

of a foreigner in the town spread like lightning, and I was soon

surrounded and followed by some thousands of people of both sexes,

young and old, who were all anxious to get a glimpse of my features and

dress. Their behaviour on the whole, however, was civil and respectful,

and the only inconvenience I had to complain of was the pressure of the

crowd. For a few of the copper coin of the country, a boy had promised

to take me to a shop where I could purchase something for the pony, and

we wended our way through the crowd, which was every moment becoming

more dense, towards, as I supposed, a corn or hay shop. At last, to my

surprise, he came to a halt in front of an eating house, and my guide

came and asked me for money to go in and buy some boiled rice. "But I

want a feed for the pony," said I. "Very well, give me the money, and I

will fetch you a basin of boiled rice for him." "You had better bring

him a pair of chopsticks also," said I, as I put the money into his

hand. The idea of a pony eating with chopsticks delighted the crowd,

and put them into high good humour: during my travels in the interior,

I often found the benefit of having a joke with the natives.

My pony seemed to enjoy the meal which was set before him, and I too

had some rice from the same pot. I then proceeded on foot to examine

the nearest hill, and soon came to the conclusion that it would be

advantageous for me to be some days in the vicinity of this place. As I

could not trust the natives with the pony, which belonged to the head

mandarin in Shanghae, I determined to take him home again myself, and

hire a boat with which I could return by any of the numerous canals

which branch all over the country, and stay as long as I pleased. I

reached Shanghae late on the same evening, weary enough, having ridden

at least sixty miles during the day.

A few days after this, having engaged a boat, I started early one

morning, and taking advantage of the tide, which ebbs and flows over

all this part of the country, I reached the hills on the same evening.

The country through which I passed was rich and fertile, cotton forming

the staple production of the fields in the neighbourhood of Shanghae.

After passing the cotton district, I came into a tract of country in

which a cruciferous plant seemed to be principally cultivated. From

this plant a kind of indigo or blue dye is prepared; it is called

_Tein-ching_ by the Chinese. Very large quantities of this substance

are brought to Shanghae, and all the other towns in the north of

China, where it is used in dyeing the blue cotton cloth, which forms

the principal article of dress of the poorer classes. I brought home

living specimens of the plant which produces this dye, and as these are

now in flower in the gardens of the Horticultural Society, the proper

scientific name of the plant will soon be ascertained.[1]

As I approached the hills the level of the country became lower, and

at that time of the year (June) it was completely flooded, and rice

was extensively cultivated. In general, the higher land of this vast

plain is used in the cultivation of cotton and the cruciferous plant

mentioned above; while the lower lands, those which are easily flooded,

are converted into rice fields. Here and there on my way I met with

large trees of the _Salisburia adiantifolia_, which are the largest

and most striking trees in this part of the country. Small patches of

bamboo were seen around all the villages, and groups of cypress and

pine generally marked the last resting places of the Chinese, which are

scattered over all the country.

The hills were very different from any which I had seen in the more

southern parts of China: they are not more than 400 feet in height,

and have none of that bold and rugged character which I have formerly

noticed. Here and there crumbling rocks show themselves above the

surface, but these are not so general as to affect the general

pastoral-looking appearance of these hills. The country is also more

richly wooded than any other part near Shanghae, and, of course,

contains a greater number of species of plants. One curious fact,

however, came under my notice: no Azaleas were met with in this part

of the country, although the hills about sixty or eighty miles to the

south abound in such plants; and, although the other plants, which

accompany Azaleas on the Chusan and Ning-po hills, were here growing in

all their native luxuriance, these, their more lovely companions, were

not to be found. I can scarcely believe that the hills between Ning-po

and Shanghae are the most northern limit for this class of plants; yet

such from my own observations would appear to be the case.

The natives in this part of the country were vastly surprised when they

saw me for the first time; at the different villages and towns, men,

women, and children of all ranks lined the banks of the canals as my

boat passed along, and often requested me to come out in order that

they might have a better opportunity of seeing me. "When I left my boat

for the purpose of ascending the hills, my boatmen used to make a good

deal of money by allowing the people to go in and inspect my little

cabin. A copy of the "Pictorial Times," which I happened to have with

me, was greatly admired, and I was obliged to leave it amongst them. It

is a remarkable fact, however, that nothing, as far as I know, was ever

stolen from me at this time, although several hundred persons visited

my boat in my absence. The boatmen must either have been very sharp,

or the people must have had a superstitious dread of the property of a

foreigner: to put it down to their honour is, I am afraid, out of the

question!

Having finished my researches amongst the hills, I left this part of

the country and returned to Shanghae. The "Helen Stuart," one of the

first vessels which left Shanghae for England direct, was at this time

ready for sea, and I availed myself of this opportunity to send some

cases of plants to the Horticultural Society, which, I regret to say,

arrived in very bad condition. When I had despatched these cases, I

determined on another journey into the interior.

Every one who has been in China, or who is at all acquainted with

Chinese history, has heard of the city of _Soo-chow-foo_. If a stranger

enters a shop in Hong-Kong, in Canton, or in any of the other towns in

the south, he is sure to be told, when he inquires the price of any

curiosity out of the common way, that it has been brought from this

celebrated place; let him order any thing superb, and it must be sent

for from Soo-chow--fine pictures, fine carved work, fine silks, and

fine ladies, all come from Soo-chow.--It is the Chinaman's earthly

paradise, and it would be hard indeed to convince him that it had its

equal in any town on earth. In addition to its other attractions, I

was informed by the Chinese nursery gardeners at Shanghae that it

contained a great number of excellent flower gardens and nurseries,

from which they obtained all or nearly all the plants which they had

for sale, and I was, therefore, strongly tempted to infringe the absurd

laws of the Celestial Empire, and try to reach this far-famed place.

My greatest difficulty was to meet with boatmen who would travel with

me, as they were all frightened for the mandarins, who had issued

very stringent orders to them after the circumstance happened which I

have already noticed. They were told, that they might take foreigners

down the river towards the sea, and up as far as a pagoda a mile or

two above Shanghae, but on no account were they to go up the western

branch of the river. This was a direct infringement on the right which

had been secured to us by the treaty of Nanking, and her Majesty's

consul at this port soon found it necessary and prudent to interfere

in the matter. Some time after this period, when what are called the

boundaries were fixed, the foreign residents were allowed to go a day's

journey into the interior, that is, as far as they could go and come

back again in twenty-four hours.

Having at length procured a boat, we set off on our journey, the

boatmen neither knowing where I intended to go to, or how long I was

to be absent from Shanghae. I simply told them we were going into the

country in search of plants, and that they must take a supply of rice

for several days. My Chinese servant, who always accompanied me, also

informed them, that it was a common thing for me to wander about the

country in search of plants, but that I was _perfectly harmless_,

and would take care that they should not get into any trouble on my

account. This gave them some confidence, and as the wind and tide were

both in our favour, we were soon a considerable distance away from

Shanghae. As I knew pretty well in what direction Soo-chow lay, I took

my course by a pocket compass which I always carried with me. After

getting twenty or thirty miles from Shanghae, I judged it prudent

to break the subject of my wishes to my companions. First of all, I

took my servant aside; he was a most active fellow, and capable of

persuading the others to do any thing he liked. "Now," said I to him,

"I want to visit Soo-chow, and if you will persuade the boatmen to go

on there, I will make you a present of five dollars when we return;

besides, you may tell the men that I shall double the amount of the

hire which I have already promised them." Upon this a long conference

ensued, the result of which was that they determined to accept my offer.

I was, of course, travelling in the Chinese costume; my head was

shaved, I had a splendid wig and tail, of which some Chinaman informer

days had doubtless been extremely vain, and upon the whole I believe I

made a pretty fair Chinaman. Although the Chinese countenance and eye

differ considerably from those of a native of Europe, yet a traveller

in the north has far greater chance of escaping detection than in

the south of China, the features of the northern natives approaching

more nearly to those of Europeans than they do in the south, and the

difference amongst themselves also being greater.

In China, the canal is the traveller's highway, and the boat is his

carriage, and hence the absence of good roads and carriages in this

country. Such a mode of conveyance is not without its advantages,

however little we may think of it in England; for as the tide ebbs

and flows through the interior for many miles, the boats proceed with

considerable rapidity; the traveller, too, can sleep comfortably in his

little cabin, which is, in fact, his house for the time being.

The canal, after leaving Shanghae, leads in a northerly direction,

inclining sometimes a little to the west; branches leading off in all

directions over the country. Some very large towns and walled cities

were passed on our route, at one of which, named _Cading_, we halted

for the night just under the ramparts. I spread out my bed in my little

cabin, and went to sleep rather early, intending to start by times with

the tide next morning, and get as far as possible during the ensuing

day. But, as my countryman says,--

"The best laid schemes of mice and men gang aft agee;"

and I awoke during the night by the cool air blowing in upon my head

through one of the windows of the boat, which I had shut before I

went to rest. I jumped up immediately and looked out, and through the

darkness I could discern that we were drifting down the canal with

the tide, now coming in contact with some other boat, which had been

fastened up like ourselves for the night, and now rubbing against the

branches of trees which hung over the sides of the canal. I lost no

time in awaking my servant and the boatmen, who rubbed their eyes with

astonishment, and exclaimed that some robber must have boarded us. This

had never struck me before, but when I called for a light, I found that

all my clothes, English and Chinese, were gone. Our visitor, who ever

he had been, after taking possession of all the cabin contained, cut

the rope by which we were fastened, and shoved us off into the centre

of the canal, along which we had drifted a considerable way before I

awoke. Fortunately for me, the few dollars I had with me were in my

Chinese purse beneath my pillow.

"What shall we do," said my servant when we had made the boat fast

again to some others on the side of the canal, "your clothes are all

gone?"

"Do," said I, laughing; "I think the best thing we can do is to go to

bed again until daylight." This being agreed to, we were soon all once

more sound asleep. When morning dawned, I sent my servant into the town

of Cading with a few dollars, which procured me another dress, and we

proceeded on our journey.

The city of Cading is large and fortified, although the walls and

ramparts are in a state of decay. It is evidently a very ancient

place. Here a large quantity of the celebrated carving is done, for

which the Chinese in the north are so well known. After leaving this

town, the canal which was narrow, continued in a northerly direction

for a few miles, and then, all at once, our little boat shot out

of it into a broad and beautiful canal, resembling a lake or broad

river, running nearly east and west, and probably connecting itself

with the Yang-tse-kiang river, somewhere between Woosung and Nanking.

The scenery here is extremely striking; the broad and smooth canal

bears on its waters hundreds of Chinese boats of all sizes, under

sail, and each hurrying to its place of destination; pagodas here

and there are seen rearing their heads above the woods and Budhist

temples, which are scattered over this wide and extensive plain. One

of these temples crowns a solitary little hill named _Quin-san_, which

at certain seasons of the year is visited by crowds of people from

Soo-chow and the neighbouring towns; the whole country, as far as the

eye can reach, is one vast rice-field, and everywhere the pleasing

clatter of the water-wheels falls upon the ear, and hundreds of happy

and contented Chinese peasants are seen engaged in the cultivation of

the soil. After continuing its westerly course for some distance, the

canal divided, and the branch we took soon led us to another town named

_Ta-tsong-tseu_. It is a place of great size, walled and fortified like

Cading and Shanghae, and is probably larger than the latter, although

perhaps not so populous. A great number of large old junks are moored

on the canal round the walls, apparently used as dwelling-houses,

being now unfit for any other service. This town too, like Cading, is

evidently in a decaying state, judging from the dilapidated condition

of the houses and fortifications, but teems with an immense population

of men, women, and particularly children.

On approaching Soo-chow some hills were seen, bounding the level plain,

which I afterwards found were some few miles west from the town itself.

The whole country here, as well as near Cading, is one vast rice-field.

Many females are employed in driving the water-wheels, generally three

or four to each wheel: these ladies have large feet, or rather their

feet are of the natural size; indeed, if they were cramped in the

usual way it would be impossible for them to work on the water-wheel.

Small feet, however, are general amongst the lower classes who work in

the fields, for of the hundreds whom I observed hoeing the cotton, or

engaged in other agricultural operations, but a small proportion had

feet of the natural size.

A few miles on the east of Soo-chow there is a large and beautiful

lake, twelve or fifteen miles across, through which the boats from

Sung-Kiang-foo and other places in that direction approach the city.

After passing this lake the canal, which had widened considerably, now

began to contract; bridges here and there were passed, villages and

small towns lined the banks, and everything denoted the approach to a

city of some size and importance. It was a delightful summer's evening

on the 23rd of June, when I approached this far-famed town. The moon

was up, and with a fair light breeze my little boat scudded swiftly,

its masts and sails reflected in the clear water of the canal; the

boats thickened as we went along, the houses became more crowded and

larger, lanterns were moving in great numbers on the bridges and sides

of the canal, and in a few minutes more we were safely moored, among

some hundreds of other boats, under the walls of this celebrated city.

Having taken all the precautions in our power against another nightly

visitor, my servant, the boatmen, and myself, were soon fast asleep.

With the first dawn of morning I was up, and dressed with very great

care by my Chinese servant, whom I then despatched to find out the

nursery gardens in the city, in order to procure the plants which I

wanted. When he had obtained this information he returned, and we

proceeded together into the city, in order to make my selections.

When I left the boat, I confess I felt rather nervous as to the trial

I was about to make. Although I had passed very well as a Chinaman in

the country districts, I knew that the inhabitants of large towns, and

particularly those in a town like this, were more difficult to deceive.

My old friends, or I should rather say my enemies, the dogs, who are

as acute as any Chinaman, evidently did not disown me as a countryman,

and this at once gave me confidence. These animals manifest very great

hatred to foreigners, barking at them wherever they see them, and

hanging on their skirts until they are fairly out of sight of the house

or village where their masters reside.

As I was crossing the bridge, which is built over the moat or canal on

the outside of the city walls, numbers of the Chinese were loitering

on it, leaning over its sides, and looking down upon the boats which

were plying to and fro. I stopped too, and looked down upon the gay and

happy throng, with a feeling of secret triumph when I remembered that

I was now in the most fashionable city of the Celestial Empire, where

no Englishman, as far as I knew, had ever been before. None of the

loiterers on the bridge appeared to pay the slightest attention to me,

by which I concluded that I must be very much like one of themselves.

How surprised they would have been had it been whispered to them that

an Englishman was standing amongst them.

The city of Soo-chow-foo, in its general features, is much the same

as the other cities in the north, but is evidently the seat of luxury

and wealth, and has none of those signs of dilapidation and decay

which one sees in such towns as Ning-po. A noble canal, as wide as

the river Thames at Richmond, runs parallel with the city walls, and

acts as a moat as well as for commercial purposes. Here, as at Cading

and Ta-tsong-tseu, a large number of invalided junks are moored, and

doubtless make excellent Chinese dwelling-houses, particularly to a

people so fond of living on the water. This same canal is carried

through arches into the city, where it ramifies in all directions,

sometimes narrow and dirty, and at other places expanding into lakes

of considerable beauty; thus enabling the inhabitants to convey their

merchandise to their houses from the most distant parts of the country.

Junks and boats of all sizes are plying on this wide and beautiful

canal, and the whole place has a cheerful and flourishing aspect,

which one does not often see in the other towns in China, if we except

Canton and Shanghae. The walls and ramparts are high, and in excellent

repair, having considerable resemblance to those of Ning-po, but in

much better order. The east wall, along the side of which I went all

the way, is not more than a mile in length, but the north and south

are much longer, thus making the city a parallelogram. That part of

the city near the east gate, by which I entered, is anything but

splendid; the streets are narrow and dirty, and the population seems of

the lowest order, but towards the west the buildings and streets are

much finer, the shops are large, and everything denotes this to be the

rich and aristocratic part of the town. The city gates seem to be well

guarded with Chinese soldiers, and all the streets and lanes inside are

intersected at intervals with gates, which are closed at nine or ten

o'clock at night. The Governor General of the province resides here,

and keeps those under his control in excellent order.

The number of nursery gardens in this city had been exaggerated by my

Chinese friends at Shanghae, but nevertheless there were several of

considerable extent, out of which I was able to procure some new and

valuable plants. Among these I may notice in passing a white _Glycine_,

a fine new double yellow rose, and a _Gardenia_ with large white

blossoms, like a Camellia. These plants are now in England, and will

soon be met with in every garden in the country. The Soo-chow nurseries

abounded in dwarf trees, many of which were very curious and old, two

properties to which the Chinese attach far greater importance than we

do in England.

The ladies here are considered by the Chinese to be the most beautiful

in the country, and, judging from the specimens which I had an

opportunity of seeing, they certainly deserve their high character.

Their dresses are of the richest material, made in a style at once

graceful and elegant; and the only faults I could find with them were

their small deformed feet, and the mode they have of painting or

whitening their faces with a kind of powder made for this purpose. But

what seemed faults in my eyes are beauties in those of a Chinaman, and

hence the prevalence of these customs.

Soo-chow-foo seems to be the great emporium of the central provinces

of China, for which it is peculiarly well fitted by its situation.

The trade of Ning-po, Hang-chow, Shanghae, and many other towns on

the south: Ching-kiang-foo, Nanking, and even Peking itself on the

north, all centres here, and all these places are connected either by

the Grand Canal, or by the hundreds of canals of lesser note, which

ramify over all this part of the empire. Shanghae, from its favourable

position as regards Soo-chow, will doubtless become one day a place of

vast importance, in a commercial point of view, both as regards Europe

and America.

I remained for several days in this city, and its neighbourhood, when,

having done all that was possible under the circumstances, I set out

on my way back to Shanghae. When I arrived, I was obliged to go on

shore in my Chinese dress, as the English one had been stolen by my

midnight visitor. The disguise, however, was so complete, that I was

not recognised by a single individual, although I walked up the street

where I was well known, and even my friend Mr. Mackenzie, with whom I

was staying, did not know me for the first few minutes after I sat down

in his room.

In the town of Shanghae, as well as in many other large Chinese

towns, there are a number of public hot water bathing establishments,

which must be of great importance as regards the health and comfort

of the natives. I will describe one which I passed daily during my

residence in Shanghae. There are two outer rooms used for undressing

and dressing; the first, and largest, is for the poorer classes; the

second, for those who consider themselves more respectable, and who

wish to be more private. As you enter the largest of these rooms, a

placard which is hung near the door informs you what the charges are,

and a man stands there to receive the money on entrance. Arranged in

rows down the middle and round the sides of both rooms are a number of

small boxes or lockers, furnished with lock and key, into which the

visitors put their clothes, and where they can make sure of finding

them when they return from the bathing room, which is entered by a

small door at the farther end of the building, and is about 30 feet

long and 20 feet wide; the water occupying the whole space, except a

narrow path round the sides. The water is from 1 foot to 18 inches

deep, and the sides of the bath are lined with marble slabs, from

which the bathers step into the water, and on which they sit and wash

themselves: the furnace is placed on the outside, and the flues are

carried below the centre of the bath.

In the afternoon anti evening this establishment is crowded with

visitors, and on entering the bath room, the first impression is

almost insupportable; the hot steam or vapour meets you at the door,

filling the eyes and ears, and causing perspiration to run from every

pore of the body; it almost darkens the place, and the Chinamen seen

in this imperfect light, with their brown skins and long tails,

sporting amongst the water, render the scene a most ludicrous one to an

Englishman.

Those visitors who use the common room pay only six copper cash; the

others pay eighteen, but they have in addition a cup of tea and a pipe

of tobacco from the proprietors. I may mention that one hundred copper

cash amount to about 4-1/2_d_. of our money; so that the first class

enjoy a hot water bath for about one farthing! and the other a bath, a

private room, a cup of tea, and a pipe of tobacco for something less

than one penny!

[1] It has proved to be a new species, and has been named Isatis

indigotica.

CHAP. XIV.

CHINESE COTTON CULTIVATION.--YELLOW COTTON.--DISTRICT

WHERE IT GROWS.--COTTON COUNTRY DESCRIBED.--SOIL.--MANURE,

AND MODE OF APPLICATION.--PRECEDING CROPS.--TIME OF

SOWING.--METHOD.--RAINS.--SUMMER CULTIVATION.--EARLY RAIN

ADVANTAGEOUS.--TIME OF REAPING AND GATHERING.--COTTON

FARMERS AND THEIR FAMILIES.--DRYING AND CLEANING PROCESS

DESCRIBED.--MARKETING.--INDEPENDENCE OF THE SELLER.--CROWDED STREETS

IN SHANGHAE DURING THE COTTON SEASON.--WAREHOUSES AND PACKING.--HOME

CONSUMPTION.--STALKS USED FOR FUEL.

The Chinese or Nanking cotton plant is the _Gossypium herbaceum_

of botanists, and the "_Mie wha_" of the northern Chinese. It is a

branching annual, growing from one to three or four feet in height,

according to the richness of the soil, and flowering from August to

October. The flowers are of a dingy yellow colour, and, like the

Hibiscus or Malva, which belong to the same tribe, remain expanded only

for a few hours, in which time they perform the part allotted to them

by nature, and then shrivel up and soon decay. At this stage the seed

pod begins to swell rapidly, and when ripe, the outer coating bursts

and exposes the pure white cotton in which the seeds lie imbedded.

The yellow cotton, from which the beautiful Nanking cloth is

manufactured, is called "_Tze mie_ _wha_" by the Chinese, and differs

but slightly in its structure and general appearance from the kind

just noticed. I have often compared them in the cotton fields where

they were growing, and although the yellow variety has a more stunted

habit than the other, it has no characters which constitute a distinct

species. It is merely an accidental variety, and although its seeds

may generally produce the same kind, they doubtless frequently yield

the white variety, and _vice versâ_. Hence, specimens of the yellow

cotton are frequently found growing amongst the white in the immediate

vicinity of Shanghae; and again a few miles northward, in fields near

the city of _Poushan_ on the banks of the Yang-tse-kiang, where the

yellow cotton abounds, I have often gathered specimens of the white

variety.

The Nanking cotton is chiefly cultivated in the level ground around

Shanghae, where it forms the staple summer production of the country.

This district, which is part of the great plain of the Yang-tze-kiang,

although flat, is yet several feet above the level of the water in

the rivers and canals, and is consequently much better fitted for

cotton cultivation than those flat rice districts in various parts of

the country,--such for example as the plain of Ning-po,--where the

ground is either wet and marshy, or liable at times to be completely

overflowed. Some fields in this district are, of course, low and

marshy, and these are cultivated with rice instead of cotton, and

regularly flooded by the water-wheel during the period of growth.

Although the cotton land is generally flat, so much so, indeed, that no

hills can be seen from the tops of the houses in the city of Shanghae,

it has nevertheless a pleasing and undulating appearance, and taken as

a whole, it is perhaps the most fertile agricultural district in the

world. The soil is a strong rich loam capable of yielding immense crops

year after year, although it receives but a small portion of manure.

The manure applied to the cotton lands of the Chinese, is doubtless

peculiarly well fitted for this kind of crop. It is obtained from

the canals, ponds, and ditches which intersect the country in every

direction, and consists of mud which has been formed partly by the

decay of long grass, reeds, and succulent water plants, and partly by

the surface soil which has been washed down from the higher ground by

the heavy rains. Every agricultural operation in China seems to be done

with the greatest regularity, at certain stated times, which experience

has proved the best, and in nothing is this more apparent than in

the manuring of the cotton lands. Early in April the agricultural

labourers, all over the country, are seen busily employed in cleaning

these ponds and ditches. The water is first of all partly drawn off,

and then the mud is thrown up on the adjoining land to dry, where it

remains for a few days until all the superfluous water is drained out

of it, and is then conveyed away and spread over the cotton fields.

Previous to this, the land has been prepared for its reception, having

been either ploughed up with the small buffalo plough in common use in

the country, and then broken and pulverised by the three-pronged hoe,

or, in those instances where the farms are small and cannot boast of

a buffalo and plough, it is loosened and broken up entirely by manual

labour. When the mud is first spread over the land, it is, of course,

hard or cloggy, but the first showers soon mix it with the surface

soil, and the whole becomes pulverised, and it is then ready for the

reception of the cotton seed. Road-scrapings and burnt rubbish are

saved up with care, and used for the same purpose and in the same

manner.

A considerable portion of the cotton lands either lie fallow during

the winter months, or are planted with those crops which are ready for

gathering prior to the sowing of the cotton seed. Frequently, however,

two crops are found growing in the field at the same time. Wheat, for

example, which is a winter crop, is reaped in the Shanghae district

generally about the end of May, while the proper time for putting in

the cotton seed is the beginning of that month or the end of April. In

order, therefore, to have cotton on the wheat lands, the Chinese sow

its seeds at the usual time amongst the wheat, and when the latter is

reaped, the former is several inches above ground, and ready to grow

with vigour when it is more fully exposed to the influence of sun and

air. The Shanghae season--that is, from the late spring frosts to those

in autumn--is barely long enough for the production and ripening of

the cotton, as it is easily injured by frost, and the Chinese farmer

is thus obliged, in order to gain time and obtain two crops from his

ground in one year, to sow its seeds before the winter crop is ready to

be removed from the ground. When it is possible to have the first crop

entirely removed before the cotton is sown it is much preferred, as the

land can then be well worked and properly manured, neither of which can

otherwise be done. The method of sowing one crop before the preceding

one is ripe and removed from the land is very common in this part of

the country; and even in autumn, before the cotton stalks are taken out

of the ground, other seeds are frequently seen germinating and ready to

take the place of the more tender crop.

In the end of April and beginning of May--the land having been prepared

in the manner just described--the cotton seeds are carried in baskets

to the fields, and the sowing commences. They are generally sown

broad-cast, that is, scattered regularly over the surface of the

ground, and then the labourers go over the whole surface with their

feet and tread them carefully in. This not only embeds the seeds, but

also acts like a roller to break and pulverise the soil. Germination

soon commences, the seeds rooting first in the manure which had been

scattered over the surface of the land. In some cases the seed, instead

of being sown broadcast, is sown in drills or patches, but this mode

is less common than the other. The rains, which always fall copiously

at the change of the monsoon which takes place at this season of the

year, warm and moisten the earth, and the seeds swell, and vegetation

progresses with wonderful rapidity. Many of the operations in Chinese

agriculture are regulated by the change of the monsoon. The farmer

knows from experience, that, when the winds, which have been blowing

from the north and east for the last seven months, change to the south

and west, the atmosphere will be highly charged with electric fluid,

and the clouds will daily rain and refresh his crops.

The cotton fields are carefully tended during the summer months. The

plants are thinned where they have been sown too thickly, the earth

is loosened amongst the roots, and the ground hoed and kept free

from weeds. If the season is favourable, immense crops are obtained

owing to the fertility of the soil, but if the weather happens to be

unusually dry from June to August, the crop receives a check which it

never entirely recovers, even although the ground, after that period,

should be moistened by frequent showers. 1845 was a season of this

kind, and the crop was a very deficient one compared with that of the

previous year. The spring was highly favourable, and the plants looked

well up to the month of June, when the dry weather set in, and gave

them a check which they never recovered. Abundance of rain fell later

in the season but it was then too late, and only caused the plants to

grow tall and run to leaf, without producing those secretions which

ultimately go to the formation of flowers and seed.

The cotton plant produces its flowers in succession from August to the

end of October, but sometimes, when the autumn is mild, blooms are

produced even up to November, when the cold nights generally nip the

buds, and prevent them from forming seed. In the autumn of 1844 this

happened on the night of the 28th of October, when the thermometer

sunk to the freezing point, and then ice was found on the sides of the

canals and ponds.

As the pods are bursting every day, it is necessary to have them

gathered with great regularity, otherwise they fall upon the ground and

the cotton gets dirty, which of course reduces its value in the market.

Little bands of the Chinese are now seen in the afternoon in every

field, gathering the ripe cotton and carrying it home to the houses of

the farmers. As the farms are generally small, they are worked almost

entirely by the farmer and his family, consisting sometimes of three

or even four generations, including the old grey-haired grand-father

or great-grandfather, who has seen the crops of four-score years

gathered into his barns. Every member of these family groups has a

certain degree of interest in his employment; the harvest is their

own, and the more productive it is, the greater number of comforts

they will be able to afford. Of course there are many cotton farms of

larger size, where labourers are employed in addition to the farmer's

family, but by far the greater number are small and worked in the way

I have just described. It is no unusual sight to see the family goat

too, doing their share of the work. Several of these animals are kept

on almost every farm, where they are, of course, great favourites with

the children, and often follow them to the cotton fields. Although the

children with their little hands can gather the cotton as well as their

elders, they are not strong enough to carry it about with them, and it

is amusing to see their favourites the goats, with bags slung across

their backs, receiving the deposits of cotton, and bearing it home to

the houses, evidently aware that they too are working for the general

good.

However fine the crop may be, the Chinese are never sure of it until

it is actually gathered in. Much depends upon a dry autumn, for, if

the weather is wet after the pods begin to burst, they drop amongst

the muddy soil, and are consequently much injured, if not completely

destroyed. When the cotton reaches the farm-yard, it is daily spread

out on hurdles raised about four feet from the ground, and fully

exposed to the sun. As the object is to get rid of all the moisture,

it is of course only put out in fine weather, and is always taken into

the house or barn in the evening. When perfectly dry, the process of

separating it from the seeds commences. This is done by the well-known

wheel with two rollers, which, when turned round, draws or sucks

in the cotton, and rejects the seeds. It is a simple and beautiful

contrivance, and answers well the end for which it is designed. The

cotton is now sent to market, and a portion of the seeds are reserved

for the next year's crop.

Early in the fine autumnal mornings, the roads leading into Shanghae

are crowded with bands of coolies from the cotton farms, each with his

bamboo across his shoulders and a large sack of cotton swung from each

end. With these they hurry into the town, for the purpose of disposing

of them to the merchants, who have numerous warehouses from which they

send the cotton to the other provinces of the empire. These coolies

or small farmers--for many of them bring their own produce to market

themselves--are very independent in their dealings. Having reached the

first warehouse, the cotton is exposed to the view of the merchant, who

is asked what price he intends to give for that particular quality;

and should the sum offered be below the owner's expectations, he

immediately shoulders his load and walks away to another merchant.

At this season it is almost impossible to get along the streets near

the sides of the river where the cotton warehouses are, owing to the

large quantities of this commodity which are daily brought in from

the country. It is bought up by the large cotton merchants, who empty

it out in their warehouses, and then repack it in a neat and compact

manner before it is conveyed on board the junks.

Before the cotton is converted into thread for the purpose of weaving,

it is cleaned and freed from knots by the well-known process common in

our possessions in India. This is done by an elastic bow, the string

of which being passed under a portion of the cotton placed on a table,

throws it in the air by the vibration which is kept up by the workman,

and separates the fibre without at all breaking or injuring it. At the

same time the wind caused by the sudden vibrations carries off the

dust and other impurities. After this process the Chinese cotton is

particularly pure and soft, and is considered by good judges not to be

surpassed by any in the world. It is much superior to that imported to

China from Hindostan, and always commands a higher price in the Chinese

market.

Every small farmer or cottager reserves a portion of the produce of his

fields for the wants of his own family. This the female members clean,

spin, and weave at home. In every cottage throughout this district

the traveller meets with the spinning-wheel and the small hand-loom,

which used to be common in our own country in days of yore, but which

have now given way to machinery. These looms are plied by the wives

and daughters, who are sometimes assisted by the old men or young boys

who are unfit for the labours of the field. Where the families are

numerous and industrious, a much greater quantity of cloth is woven

than is required for their own wants, and in this case the surplus is

taken to Shanghae and the adjacent towns for sale. A sort of market is

held every morning at one of the gates of the city, where these people

assemble and dispose of their little bundles of cotton cloth. Money is

in this manner realised for the purchase of tea and other necessaries

which are not produced by the farms in this particular district.

When the last crops are gathered from the cotton fields, the stalks

are carried home for fuel. Thus every part of the crop is turned to

account: the cotton itself clothes them, and affords them the means

of supplying themselves with all the necessaries of life; the stalks

boil their frugal meals; and the ashes even--the remains of all--are

strewed over their fields for the purposes of manure. But even before

this takes place, the system I have already noticed--of sowing and

planting fresh crops before the removal of those which occupy the

land--is already in progress. Clover, beans, and other vegetables are

frequently above ground in the cotton fields before the stalks of

the latter are removed. Thus, the Chinese in the northern provinces

lengthen by every means in their power the period of growth; and gain

as much as they possibly can from the fertility of their land. The

reader must bear in mind, however, that the soil of this district is a

rich deep loam, which is capable of yielding many crops in succession

without the aid of a particle of manure. Nature has showered her

bounties on the inhabitants of this part of the Chinese empire with no

sparing hand; the soil is not only the most fertile in China, but the

climate is capable of rearing and bringing to perfection many of the

productions of the tropics, as well as the whole of those found in all

the temperate regions of the globe.

CHAP. XV.

CLIMATE OF CHINA.--SUMMER AND WINTER.--TEMPERATURE OF HONG-KONG--OF

SHANGHAE.--MONSOONS.--TYPHOONS.--SIGNS OF THEIR APPROACH.--DESCRIPTION

OF A TYPHOON WITNESSED BY THE AUTHOR.--EFFECT PRODUCED UPON

VEGETATION.--RAINS.--WET AND DRY SEASONS.--METEOROLOGICAL TABLE.

In order to understand Chinese agriculture, a knowledge of the climate

of the country is of course necessary. The dominions of the Emperor of

China stretch over twenty-three degrees of latitude--from 18° to 41°

north, and from the 98° to the 123° of east longitude; thus including

both tropical and temperate regions in its vast extent. Being placed

on the east side and forming part of the large continent of Asia, it

is liable to extremes of temperature--to excessive heat in summer,

and extreme cold in winter--which are unknown in many other parts

of the world within the same parallels of latitude. One of our best

writers upon China[1] makes the following very sensible remarks on

this subject:--"Although Peking is nearly a degree to the south of

Naples--the latitude of the former place being 30° 54', of the latter

40° 50'--the mean temperature of Peking is only 54° of Fahrenheit,

while that of Naples is 63°. But the thermometer at the Chinese capital

sinks much lower during the winter than at Naples, so in summer does

it rise somewhat higher; the rivers are said to be frozen for three

or four months together, from December to March; while during the

last embassy in September, 1816, we experienced a heat of between 90°

and 100° in the shade. Now it is well known that Naples, and other

countries in the extreme south of Europe, are strangers to such a

degree of long-continued cold, and not often visited by such heats.

"Europe," observes Humboldt, "may be considered altogether as the

western part of a great continent, and therefore subject to all the

influence which causes the western sides of continents to be warmer

than the eastern; and at the same time more temperate, or less subject

to _excesses_ of both heat and cold, but principally the latter."

From my own tables, kept by Newman's best registering thermometers,

I find that at Hong-kong, in the months of July and August--the two

hottest months in the year--the mercury frequently stood as high as

90°, and one day at 94° Fahr. in the shade. The minimum was generally

about ten degrees lower than the maximum. In the winter, from December

to March, the thermometer frequently sinks nearly down to the freezing

point, and sometimes, although rarely, snow has fallen at Canton and on

the adjacent hills. The influence of the sea, however, in this part of

the empire, has a tendency to check the extremes of both heat and cold;

but these are much greater in the northern interior. The northerly

winds in the winter and spring months are severely cold in the south of

China; indeed, I have suffered more from cold at Hong-kong and Macao in

the month of February, than I have ever done in England.

At Shanghae, in the province of Keangsoo, in latitude 31° 20' north,

the extremes of heat and cold are much greater than what we experienced

in the southern provinces. Through the kindness of Dr. Lockhart, who

kept up my meteorological tables during my absence in different parts

of the country, I have obtained a very complete set of observations

for nearly two years. From these it appears that in July and August

the heat is the greatest; the thermometer in the shade sometimes

standing for several days at 100° of Fahrenheit. The heat during

these days was almost insupportable to Europeans, who, when I was in

Shanghae, were obliged to live in Chinese houses, which, from their

construction, were ill calculated to exclude the heat. In the end of

October the thermometer sometimes sinks as low as the freezing point.

In the evening of the 28th of that month, in 1844, the remains of the

cotton and other tropical plants which are cultivated in the fields

during the summer, were destroyed by frost. December, January, and

February are the coldest months in the year, the cold then being quite

as severe as it is with us in the south of England. In the winter of

1844-45 the thermometer sunk as low as 26° Fahrenheit. On the night

of the 18th of December, and again on January, the 4th, the index

was left at 24°. But that winter, according to Chinese accounts, was

peculiarly mild, so much so, that the usual supply of ice could not be

procured. In ordinary years the ponds and canals are frequently frozen

several inches in thickness, and afford a plentiful supply of ice. I

have, therefore, little doubt that in most years the thermometer may be

found at least twenty degrees below the freezing point, or at 12° of

Fahrenheit, and perhaps even lower. Snow frequently falls, but the sun

is too powerful to allow it to lie long on the ground.

If we except the extremes of heat and cold just noticed, the climate of

Shanghae may be pronounced as fine as any in the world. Even the cold

in winter is highly advantageous to the natives, and still more so to

Europeans and Americans, as it strengthens their constitutions, and

enables them to withstand the effects of the excessive heat. The months

of April, May, and June are delightful, and although the sun is hot in

the middle of the day, in the afternoon the air is soft and agreeable,

and the evenings cool and pleasant. The autumnal months are generally

of the same description; the wind then is cool and bracing, and the sky

is much clearer than in England. The sun, for days, and sometimes for

weeks together, rises in the morning, runs his course, and sets again

in a clear and cloudless sky.

The prevailing winds blow from the south-west from the end of April to

the middle of September; during the remaining portion of the year they

are northerly and easterly: thus forming what are called the south-west

and north-east monsoons. These monsoons blow with great regularity in

the south of China, but are more variable towards the north. In the

latitude of Chusan or Shanghae, although the monsoons prevail, the

wind, not unfrequently, blows from other quarters. In the end of the

summer season, that is, from July to October, the country is frequently

visited by those dreadful gales called by foreigners typhoons. The

name is a corruption of the Chinese word _Ta-fung_ or "great wind."

These storms commit the most fearful ravages both by land and sea. The

barometer gives warning some hours before the gale commences, and,

therefore, foreign ships can always send down their masts and yards,

and, if possible, remove to a safe anchorage. Where that is not to be

had, they have the dreadful alternative of standing out to sea. The

Chinese, without the aid of the barometer, can always tell when the

_Ta-fung_ is coming on by the following signs. The wind, which blows

from the south-west in the typhoon season, changes and blows from

the north or north-cast, becoming gusty and gradually increasing in

strength, the sky lowers and looks wild, the sea rolls in upon the

bench with a dead heavy swell, and every thing portends a coming storm.

When these signs appear, the fleets of fishing-boats on the coast take

their nets in, crowd all sail, and make for the shore as fast as they

can, where the boats are hauled up on dry land, or into some creek

which is sheltered from the force of the winds and waves. The coasting

junks, which are ill fitted for bad weather, lose no time in getting

into some sheltered port where they can ride out the storm in safety.

And, luckily, as a safeguard from the fury of these winds, nature has

provided a great number of excellent well-sheltered harbours on the

coast of China, all of which are well known to the pilots who are

employed on board the junks.

During my residence in China, I witnessed two of these terrific

gales--once at sea, and once on shore. Luckily, in the first instance,

we were able to run into a deep bay, and with three anchors down rode

out the gale in perfect safety. The other occurred on the 21st and 22d

of August, 1844, when I was at Ningpo. I observed the Chinese running

about in great consternation, and calling to each other that the "great

wind" was coming, and to make preparations for it. Mats and rattan

work, which had been placed over the doors and windows to afford shade

from the sun, were hastily removed, and many of the houses, which were

known to be in a weak state, were, in a rapid way, propped up and

strengthened. Nor were the husbandmen less busy in the fields. The

heads of the tall millet, being nearly ripe, were quicky cut, and the

long stalks left to be reaped at another time. Millet is so heavy when

nearly ripe, that had it been left exposed to the wind it must have

been dashed to pieces, and the crop entirely lost. Crops on the sides

of the rivers and canals were removed where it was possible to do so;

otherwise, they would have been blown into the water, and carried away

far beyond the reach of their owners. All the fruit which was nearly

ripe was hastily gathered from the trees, unnecessary branches were cut

away, and others tied up and supported.

The gale gradually increased in force until daylight on the morning of

the 22d, when it seemed to be at its height. In Mr. Mackenzie's house,

where I was staying at the time, we passed a fearful night. The wind

howled and whistled round the roof, every blast seemingly more fierce

than that which preceded it, until I really thought we should have the

building down upon us and be buried in the ruins. At daylight the rooms

presented a dismal appearance; all the floors, chairs, and tables were

covered with dust and pieces of broken tiles and mortar which had been

shaken out of the roof. As the storm still raged with unabated fury,

Mr. Mackenzie and myself, glad to escape from the wreck by which we

were surrounded, went out to see what effect the gale was producing on

the other places in the vicinity. The wind was so powerful, that it

was next to impossible to keep our feet; in fact, we were frequently

blown off the path, and were obliged to scramble back to it again

on our bands and knees. The river, which is generally beautiful and

smooth, had now risen and completely overflowed its banks, having

been forced back by the strength of the wind, and was as rough as the

sea itself. The whole country was one vast sheet of troubled water,

for the branches of the river, and the numerous canals by which it is

intersected, had all overflowed their banks, and had spread in the low

paddy fields. Most of the small boats were safe, as they were either in

sheltered creeks, or drawn up beyond the reach of the water, but many

of the large wood-junks which frequent this port were not so fortunate.

These had been moored off the city, having, as usual, a large portion

of their cargo lashed to their sides. In many instances, the combined

force of the winds and waves snapped the lashings, strong as they were,

and the spars of wood floated from their sides, and were either carried

away by the force of the stream, or thrown on shore. Hundreds of the

Chinese were now ready to seize the wood as it floated to land, and

with a total disregard to the "rights of property" conveyed it at once

to their own houses. No Mandarin or other government officer interfered

to prevent this, and the Chinese servants of the English Consul and

other foreign residents actually brought a considerable quantity to

the houses of their masters, and seemed surprised when reproved for

their dishonesty. The English of course honourably returned the spoil

to its owners, much to the surprise of the Chinese. On the opposite

side of the river, we observed great numbers engaged in the same

lawless occupation. The city walls, here, run parallel with the river,

and these rascals were coolly hoisting the wood over the wails and

ramparts, assisted by their friends inside the city; nor was this

attempted to be checked.

At about nine o'clock in the morning, the wind, which commenced from

the north, had veered round to the east and south, but still raged with

fearful power. On retracing our steps, which we had some difficulty

in doing, owing to the flooded state of the country, and the force of

the wind, we encountered a family group in the fields surrounding a

coffin, which the wind seemed inclined to carry off in spite of all

their efforts to fasten it to the ground. It is customary in this part

of the country to place the remains of the dead upon the surface of

the ground, sometimes supporting the coffins on short stakes, to raise

them a few feet from the earth. In this instance the poor people were

actually fighting with the winds, but were at last able to secure the

remains of their relative, and allow him to sleep the long sleep of

death in peace. At this time the barometer stood at 28° 30', but the

wind was still blowing a perfect gale until about mid-day, when it

gradually became less violent. In the evening, although the sky still

looked wild, it was evident the gale had passed away, and the wind was

then blowing from the south-west. The river soon returned to its former

limits, boats began to sail up and down, and business, which had been

entirely suspended, went on again as usual. Altogether, the typhoon

lasted nearly twenty-four hours.

The following morning was calm and beautiful, but the scene was one of

ruin and devastation. The streets were strewed with broken tiles and

mortar; many of the houses were completely unroofed, walls were blown

down, and every thing evinced the violence of the storm. In the fields

the change was still more striking; but two days before the trees and

hedges were green, the gardens were gay with flowers, and every thing

bore the happy smiling aspect of summer; now vegetation had changed

from green to withered sickly brown, flowers had faded, trees were torn

lip by the roots and broken and shattered, and many of the crops were

completely ruined.

The accounts which reached us from sea after this typhoon proved that

the loss of life had been very great. For many days after the gale had

ceased, our vessels on the coast frequently met with large portions

of wreck floating about, the remains of Chinese junks, which told a

fearful tale. An English vessel on her way to Chusan was obliged to cut

away her masts, and was towed into the harbour a day or two afterwards

by one of the government steamers. Mr. Shaw, one of her passengers,

informed me that during the typhoon they had a perfect calm for some

time, and that then the wind veered round to a different quarter, and

blew with increased violence. This is not unfrequently the case, and

during these short lulls the vessels roll and labour in a dreadful

manner, owing to the heavy swell of the sea, as they are then entirely

at its mercy, and have nothing to steady them.

In the preceding year, this part of the country was twice visited

by typhoons, viz., on the 1st of September and 1st of October. In

the island of Chusan, where they were particularly violent, the most

disastrous effects were produced upon the crops. The little streams in

the island were swollen into large rivers, and carried away every thing

before them. The crops of entire fields, chiefly paddy, were in some

instances swept away, and in others sanded completely up, and rendered

useless. The patched-up houses of our officers who held the island

at the time suffered severely. During the typhoon of 1844, a house

built on the beach by one of the officers was actually lifting up, and

would doubtless have been carried away by the force of the wind, but

fortunately Brigadier Campbell, who was passing at the time, gave the

alarm, and ordered out a number of men from the barracks, who held it

down until it was rendered more secure.

The wet and dry seasons in the southern and tropical parts of China are

more decided in their character than they are in the northern portions

of the Empire. At Hong-kong and in the provinces of the south, the

winter season, that is, from October to March, is generally dry, more

particularly in November, December, and January. The most wet months in

the year are those near the change of the monsoons, in May and June,

and again in September, when the rains fall in torrents, probably owing

to the stagnation produced in the atmosphere by the change in the

direction of the winds.

The author before quoted explains this on the following principles. He

says:--"The north-east monsoon, which commences about September, blows

strongest during the above period, and begins to yield to the opposite

monsoon in March. About that time the southerly winds come charged with

the moisture which they have acquired in their passage over the sea

through warm latitudes; and this moisture is suddenly condensed into

thick fogs as it comes in contact with the land of China, which has

been cooled down to a low temperature by the long-continued northerly

winds. The latent heat given out, by the rapid distillation of this

steam into fluid, produces the sudden advance of temperature which

takes place about March; and its effect is immediately perceptible in

the stimulus given to vegetation of all kinds, by this union of warmth

with moisture. With the progressive increase of heat and evaporation

those rains commence, which tend so greatly to mitigate the effects of

the sun's rays in tropical climates. In the month of May the fall of

rain has been known to exceed twenty inches, being more than a fourth

of all the year, and this keeps down the temperature to the moderate

average marked for that month."

The following table made from observations kept by the late Mr. Beale

at Macao for a number of years, shows the amount of the average monthly

fall of rain in inches:--

+----------------------------------------------+-----------+---------+

| |----------------------------------| Height | Fall of |

+-----------+------+------+-------+------------+-----------+---------+

| January | 57 | 45 | 51 | 65 29 | 30.23 | 0.675 |

| February | 58 | 45 | 51.5 | 68 33 | 30.12 | 1.700 |

| March | 71 | 60 | 65.5 | 79 45 | 30.17 | 2.150 |

| April | 76 | 69 | 72.5 | 84 59 | 30.04 | 5.675 |

| May | 78 | 73 | 75.5 | 86 69 | 29.89 | 11.850 |

| June | 84 | 79 | 81.5 | 89 74 | 29.87 | 11.100 |

| July | 88 | 84 | 86 | 94 81 | 29.84 | 7.750 |

| August | 86 | 83 | 84.5 | 90 79 | 29.86 | 9.900 |

| September | 84 | 79 | 81.5 | 88 75 | 29.90 | 10.925 |

| October | 76 | 70 | 73 | 85 60 | 30.04 | 5.500 |

| November | 68 | 61 | 64.5 | 79 48 | 30.14 | 2.425 |

| December | 63 | 52 | 57.5 | 69 40 | 30.25 | 0.975 |

+-----------+------+------+-------+------------+-----------+---------+

| Means | 74.1 | 66.7 | 70.4 | 81.3 57.6 | 30.03 | |

+-----------+------+------+-------+------------+-----------+---------+

Total rain, 70.625

In the north the rains also fall copiously at the change of the

monsoons, more particularly in spring, at which time they are of

the greatest utility to the crops, which are sown or planted about

that time. Those parts of China, however, which are included in the

temperate zone, cannot properly be said to have a wet and dry season in

the same sense as these terms are generally understood in the tropics.

The winter months which are dry at Hong-kong are far from having the

same character, at Shanghae, for example, where heavy and continued

falls of rain and snow are of frequent occurrence. In fact, the climate

of Northern China has a greater resemblance to that of the south of

England or France, than it has to that of the southern parts of the

Chinese empire; and although hotter, used always to remind me of the

beautiful summers we have in England once in every ten and twelve

years. The sky is for days and weeks together without a cloud, and in

the evening a heavy dew falls and refreshes vegetation.

These remarks will assist the reader to understand more fully the

theory and practice of Chinese agriculture, which form the subject of

the following chapter.

[1] Davis's "Chinese."

CHAP. XVI.

CHINESE AGRICULTURE--EXAGGERATED STATEMENTS REGARDING ITS

ADVANCEMENT.--SOIL OF THE HILLS.--TEA LAND.--SOIL OF THE

PLAINS.--SUMMER CROPS.--RICE AND ITS CULTIVATION.--CHINESE PLOUGH AND

HARROW.--NUMBER OF CROPS PRODUCED.--METHOD OF OBTAINING TWO CROPS OF

RICE IN SUMMER IN THE PROVINCE OF CHEKIANG.--RICE HARVEST.--TERRACE

CULTIVATION DESCRIBED.--THE TEIN-CHING PLANT, FROM WHICH THE

NORTHERN INDIGO IS OBTAINED.--SUMMER HILL CROPS.--CULTIVATION OF

SWEET POTATOES.--EARTH NUTS.--WINTER CROPS.--CELEBRATED SHAN-TUNG

CABBAGE.--OIL PLANT.--WHEAT, BARLEY, ETC.--RIPENING OF WINTER

CROPS.--MANURES--TWO PLANTS CULTIVATED FOR THIS TURPOSE--THEIR

CULTIVATION AND MODE OF APPLICATION.--A MANURE FOR MIXING WITH

SEEDS.--ITS UTILITY.--OTHER MANURES IN COMMON USE.--MANURE

TANKS.--NIGHT SOIL AND URINE--MODE OF APPLICATION.--SUCCESSION AND

ROTATION OF CROPS.

_The profession of agriculture in China_ has been highly honoured and

encouraged by the government of the country, from the earliest times

down to the present day. The husbandman ranks higher here than he does

in any other country in the world, and the emperor himself marks his

sense of the importance of agriculture, by engaging in its operations

at the commencement of every season. In his character of "Son of

Heaven," or mediator between the gods and his subjects, he devotes

three days to solemn fasting and prayer, after which he proceeds to a

field, and with his own hands holds the plough, and throws a portion

of the rice seed into the ground, thus showing the importance which

government attaches to industry in the cultivation of the earth, that

there may be plenty on the land to supply the wants of the teeming

population.

The progress and advancement of the Chinese in agriculture as an art

has been, however, greatly exaggerated by many who have adverted

to this subject in their writings. The Chinese government has been

always so jealous of foreigners entering the country, that those who

were probably able to form a correct opinion on the subject were

prevented from doing so, and were led away by the fertility of their

imaginations; while, on the other hand, the Roman Catholic missionaries

who travelled and resided in the interior, were evidently ignorant

of the art itself, as well as of the progress it had made in other

countries. But it must also be borne in mind, that whilst agriculture

has been advancing rapidly towards perfection amongst the nations of

the western world, the Chinese in this, as with most other things, have

remained stationary, and hence there must be a much greater disparity

between us and them now than there was when the early writers upon

China published their works. To these writers, and more particularly

to those who kept on faithfully copying their works, we must attribute

the erroneous opinions which have been generally held by us in every

thing relating to the agriculture of the Chinese. I have no doubt

that, as a nation, they surpass the natives of India and other

half-civilised states in this art, as they do in most other peaceful

accomplishments; but it is ridiculous, now at least, to compare them

for a moment with our intelligent farmers in England or Scotland. As

well might we compare their coasting junks with the navy of England,

or their merchants with ours, whose ships are met with on every sea,

and whose commercial operations extend to every quarter of the world.

In order, however, that the reader may form an opinion for himself, I

will describe in detail what passed under my own eye connected with

this subject, during my travels of nearly three years in the country.

In that space of time I had an opportunity of seeing repeatedly the

various methods of cultivation and their results, both in the north and

in the south; all of which were carefully noted in my journal at the

time.

I will begin with the southern provinces. These are, of course,

tropical, and differ from those in the north in many respects, both

with regard to soil and the nature of the plants cultivated.

_The soil of the mountains_ in the south of China is of the poorest

description. Rocks of granite are seen every where protruding

themselves above the scanty vegetation, whilst the soil itself is

composed of dry burnt clay mixed with particles of granite in a

decaying or disintegrated state. This soil naturally so poor, is

kept so by the practice of periodically cutting and carrying off the

long grass and stunted bushes for fire-wood. Sometimes the natives

set fire to this upon the mountains, for the purpose of affording a

scanty manure, but nevertheless the soil is miserably sterile. Almost

all the hilly portions of the south of China are in a state of nature

"_stern and wild_" where the hand of man never attempts agricultural

operations, and where it is almost impossible he ever can. Here and

there, near the base of the hills, the far-famed terrace cultivation

may be seen, where the natives grow small patches of rice and other

vegetables, such as sweet potatoes and earth-nuts, but the portion of

land in this part of the country used for such purposes, bears but an

extremely small proportion to the vast tracts in a wild state.

At Amoy and over all that part of the province of Fokien the mountains

are even more barren than those of Quantung. On some of the hills on

the island of Amoy, the traveller may wander for miles and scarcely

see even a weed. On every side there is nothing but masses of dark

crumbling granite, and red burnt-looking clay. This, however, seems the

northern boundary of the most barren part of China. When we reach the

river Min near Foo-chow-foo, there is a great change visible in the

vegetation of the hills, caused, of course, by the richer nature of

the soil. This remark applies to the northern portion of Fokien and to

the whole of the province of Chekiang. I have ascended hills near the

mouth of the Min at least 3000 feet above the level of the sea, which

were under cultivation to their summit. The soil here was composed of

a gravelly loam; and though far from rich, it contained more vegetable

matter or humus, and was also much deeper. This addition of vegetable

matter rendered the soil sufficiently fertile to repay the Chinese

fanner for the labour expended in bringing the crops to maturity. Some

of the hills are of course much more productive than others. The tea

districts, for example, both in the province of Fokien and Chekiang,

are not only more fertile, but are very different from what they are

generally supposed to be. One of the most accredited accounts of China

gives the following analysis of the soil of these districts:--"The tea

soil of China consists almost entirely of siliceous sand in a minute

state of division--84 per cent. of sand, a quantity of carbonate of

iron and alumina, _and only_ 1 _per cent. of vegetable matter_."

Where or how this analysis could be obtained, I have no means of

knowing--most probably from the black tea districts near Canton; but it

is certainly very far from being a correct one if meant to apply to the

rich soil of the great tea districts.

But even here, and over all the most fertile mountain districts of

Central China, it would be ridiculous to assert, as some have done,

that the whole or even the greater part is under cultivation. On the

contrary by far the greater part lies in a state of nature and has

never been disturbed by the hand of man. I am anxious to state this

fact in express terms, in order to set those right who have been led

to believe that every inch of land in the empire, however bleak and

barren, is under cultivation, having given way to Chinese industry and

skill! I myself, before I visited China, was under the same impression;

but the first glance at the rushed mountainous shores soon convinced me

of my error. Unfortunately, our opinions of a distant unknown country

are apt to go to extremes, either fancying it entirely barren, or else

a paradise of fertility.

The _soil of the valleys_ or plains varies quite as much in different

provinces as it does in the hills. The level of these valleys or plains

is generally very low; in many instances below that of the rivers and

canals. In the south the soil consists of a strong stiff clay mixed

with a small portion of sand, but containing scarcely any vegetable

matter or humus. This is its composition about Canton and Macao, and

in fact over all the provinces of the south, unless perhaps in the

vicinity of large towns, where its natural character has been altered

to a certain extent by the influence of manure. Where the hills lose

their barren character, four or five hundred miles to the northward

from Hong-kong, a visible change takes place also in the soil of the

valleys and plains. In the district of the Min, for example, instead of

being almost entirely composed of strong stiff clay it is mixed with a

considerable portion of vegetable matter, and is an excellent strong

loam, not unlike that which we find in some of our best wheat lands in

England and Scotland, and capable of producing excellent crops. As a

general rule it may be observed, that the lower the valleys are, the

more the soil approaches in its nature to the stiff clay of the south,

and _vice versâ_. For instance, the Shanghae district is several feet

higher above the level of the rivers and canals than that of Ning-po,

and the soil of the latter consists more of a stiff clay and has less

vegetable matter in its composition, and is far from being so fertile

as the cotton district of Shanghae.

Rice being the chief article of food is, of course, the staple

production of the country, more particularly in the south, where two

crops of it can easily be raised in the hot months, besides another

crop of some more hardy vegetables in winter.

The ground is prepared in spring for the first crop of rice, as soon as

the winter green crops are removed from the fields. The plough, which

is commonly drawn by a buffalo or bullock, is a rude implement; but

probably answers the purpose much better than ours would, which has

been found to be too heavy and unmanageable for the Chinese.[1] As the

land is always flooded with water before it is ploughed, this operation

may be described as the turning up a layer of mud and water, six or

eight inches deep, which lies on a solid floor of hard stiff clay. The

plough never goes deeper than this mud and water, and consequently the

ploughman and his bullock in wading through the field find a solid

footing at this depth below the surface. The water buffalo generally

employed in the south, is well adapted for this work, as he delights

to wallow amongst the mud, and is often found swimming and amusing

himself in the canals on the sides of the rice fields. But it seems a

most disagreeable and unhealthy operation for the poor labourer, who

nevertheless goes along cheerful and happy. After the plough comes the

harrow; this is chiefly used to break and pulverise the surface of the

soil or to bury the manure. Hence it has not long perpendicular teeth

like ours; but the labourer stands upon the top of it, and presses it

down upon the muddy soil while it is drawn along. The object of both

plough and harrow is not only to loosen the earth, but to mix up the

whole until it forms a puddle and its surface becomes smooth and soft.

In this condition it is ready to receive the young rice plants.

Previously to the preparation of the fields the rice seed is sown

thickly in small patches of highly manured ground, and the young plants

in these seed-beds are ready for transplanting when the fields are in

a fit state to receive them. Sometimes the Chinese steep the seeds

in liquid manure before they sow them; but although this practice is

common in the south, it is not general throughout the empire.

The seedling plants are carefully dug up from the bed and removed to

the fields. These fields are now smooth and overflowed with water to

the depth of three inches. The plants are put in in patches, each

containing about a dozen plants, and in rows from ten to twelve inches

apart each way. The operation of planting is performed with astonishing

rapidity. A labourer takes a quantity of plants under his left arm, and

drops them in bundles over the land about to be planted, as he knows,

almost to a plant, what number will be required. These little bundles

are then taken up, and the proper number of plants selected and plunged

by the hand into the muddy soil. The water, when the hand is drawn up,

immediately rushes into the hole, and carries with it a portion of soil

to cover the roots, and the seedlings are thus planted and covered in

without further trouble.

In the south the first crop is fit to cut by the end of June or the

beginning of July. Before it is quite ripe, another crop of seedlings

is raised on the beds or corners of the fields, and is ready for

transplanting as soon as the ground has been ploughed up and prepared

for their reception. This second crop is ready for cutting in November.

In the latitude of Ning-po, 30° north, the summers are too short to

have the land cropped in the same way in which it is done in the south.

The farmers here manage to have two crops of paddy in the summer

by planting the second crop two or three weeks after the first, in

alternate rows. The first planting takes place about the middle of

May, and the crop is reaped in the beginning of August, at which time

the alternate rows are only about a foot in height, and are still

quite green. After the early crop is removed, the ground is stirred up

and manured, and the second crop having now plenty of light and air,

advances rapidly to maturity, and is ready for the reaping-hook about

the middle of November.

About one hundred miles further north, in the Shanghae district, the

summers are too short to enable the husbandman to obtain a second crop

of rice, even upon the Ning-po plain, and he is therefore obliged to

content himself with one. This is sown at the end of May, and reaped at

the beginning of October.

A large quantity of rain always falls at the change of the north-east

monsoon in May. This is of the utmost importance to the farmer, not

only as regards his rice crops, but also as to many other operations

at this season of the year. We are accustomed to hear a great deal

of the machine-like regularity which pervades all the operations of

the Chinese; but a little investigation of the circumstances in which

they are placed--at least in so far as agriculture is concerned--will

convince us that their practice is regulated, not so much by caprice

and those "Mede and Persian" laws, as by the laws of nature herself,

upon which the success of the varied operations of agriculture mainly

depend. Thus the crops of rice and cotton are sown on the low lands,

and the sweet potatoes are planted on the hills, year after year,

exactly at the same time. But this regularity is not the effect of

prejudice, nor in obedience to the imperial orders; it is simply

the result of experience which has taught the farmer that this is

the proper time for these operations, because there will then be a

continuance of frequent and copious showers, which will moisten the

earth and the air until such time as the young rootlets have laid hold

of the soil and are capable of sending up sufficient nourishment to the

stems.

[Illustration: Water-wheel for Irrigation.]

During the growth of the rice, the fields are always kept flooded when

water can be obtained. The terraces near the base of the hills are

supplied by the mountain streams, and the fields which are above the

level of any adjoining river or canal are flooded by the celebrated

water-wheel, which is in use all over the country. These machines are

of three kinds. The principle in all of them is the same, the only

difference being in the mode of applying the moving power; one is

worked by the hand, another by the feet, and the third by an animal

of some kind, generally a buffalo or bullock. The rice lands are kept

flooded in this way until the crops are nearly ripe, when the water is

no longer necessary. It is also necessary, or at least advantageous, to

go over the ground once or twice during the summer, and stir the soil

up well amongst the roots, at the same time removing any weeds which

may have sprung up. If the weather is wet, the fields retain the water

for a considerable time, and then it is not an uncommon sight to see

the natives wading nearly up to the knees in mud and water, when they

are gathering in the harvest.

When ripe, the crops are cut with a small instrument, not very unlike

our own reaping-hook, and are generally thrashed out at once in the

fields where they have grown. Sometimes, however, and more particularly

in the north, the paddy is tied up in sheaves, and carried home before

it is thrashed; indeed every thing in the northern agriculture of the

Chinese has a great resemblance to what is practised in Europe.

The _terrace cultivation_ of China has been noticed by nearly all

writers upon this country, and, like most other subjects, it has been

either much exaggerated or undervalued. It appeared to me to be carried

to the greatest perfection on the hill sides adjacent to the river Min

near Foo-chow-foo; at least I was more struck with it there than any

where else. On sailing up that beautiful river, these terraces look

like steps on the sides of the mountains, one rising above another,

until they sometimes reach six or eight hundred feet above the level

of the sea. When the rice and other crops are young, these terraces

are clothed in luxuriant green, and look like a collection of gardens

among the rugged and barren mountains. The terrace system is adopted

by the Chinese, either for the purpose of supplying the hill sides

with water where paddy is to be grown, or to prevent the heavy rains

from washing down the loose soil from the roots of other vegetables.

Hence these cuttings are seen all over the sides of the hills, not

exactly level like the rice terraces, but level enough to answer the

purpose of checking the rains in their descent down the mountain. For

the same reason, the sweet potato and some other crops which are grown

on the hills are always planted in ridges which run cross-ways or

horizontally; indeed, were the ridges made in a different direction,

the heavy rains which fall in the early summer months would carry both

the loose soil and crops down into the plains.

Rice is grown on the lower terrace ground, and a stream of water is

always led from some ravine and made to flow across the sides of the

hills, until it reaches the highest terrace, into which it flows and

floods the whole of the level space. When the water rises three or four

inches in height, which is sufficiently high for the rice, it finds

vent at an opening made for the purpose in the bank, through which

it flows into the terrace below, which it floods in the same manner,

and so on to the lowest. In this way the whole of the rice terraces

are kept continually flooded, until the stalks of the crops assume a

yellow ripening hue when the water being no longer required, it is

turned back into its natural channel, or led to a different part of

the hill, for the nourishment of other crops. These mountain streams,

which abound in all parts of the hilly districts, are of the greatest

importance to the farmer; and as they generally spring from a high

elevation in the ravines, they can be conducted at pleasure over all

the lower parts of the hills. No operation in agriculture gives him and

his labourers more pleasure than leading these streams of water from

one place to another and making them subservient to their purposes. In

my travels in the country the inhabitants often called my attention

to this branch of their operations, and I pleased them much when I

expressed my admiration at the skill with which they executed it. The

practice is not confined to the paddy fields; for I remember once,

when superintending the planting of some large trees and shrubs in

the garden of Messrs. Dent & Co. in Hong-kong, after I had given them

a large supply of water at the time they were put into the ground,

I desired the gardener to repeat the dose next morning. But, on the

following day, when I returned to the spot I was surprised to find a

little stream divided into many branches, and meandering amongst the

roots of the newly planted trees. As there was no stream there before,

I went up to examine its source, and found that it had been led from a

neighbouring ravine; a work more easy than carrying a large supply of

water in buckets, and at the same time more effectual.

Several other summer crops are cultivated in the lowlands. In the

southern provinces, for instance, we find large quantities of the

_Nelumbium speciosum_ grown for its roots, which are much esteemed; the

_Trapa bicornis_, the castoroil plant, _Scirpus tuberosus, Convolvulus

reptans_, and several other vegetables, for which there is a great

demand in all Chinese towns. The sugar cane also is extensively grown

both in the provinces of Quantung and Fokien, and probably in other

parts of the empire.

In the district of Kiangsoo my attention was directed to a plant

called _Tein-ching_, which is largely cultivated by the inhabitants

for the sake of its blue dye. In the southern provinces a great deal

of indigo (_Indigofera_) is grown and manufactured, in addition to a

large quantity which is annually imported from Manilla and the Straits.

In the north, however, the plant which we call indigo is never met

with, owing, I suppose, to the coldness of the winters; but its place

is supplied by the _Tein-ching_ (_Isatis indigotica_), the leaves of

which are prepared in the same manner as the common indigo. The colour

of the liquid at first is a kind of greenish blue, but, after being

well stirred up and exposed to the air, it becomes much darker. I

suppose it is thickened afterwards by evaporation; but this part of

the process did not come under my observation. I am very much inclined

to believe that this is the dye used to colour the green teas which

are manufactured in the north of China for the English and American

markets: this, however, is only conjecture.

_The summer productions_ of the hilly country are, of course, different

from those of the plains. From the province of Fokien northward to the

great valley of the Yang-tse-Kiang, the hills are amongst the most

fertile in China. They are frequently terraced in the manner I have

described, and their staple productions, if we except the rice which

is grown on the lower terraces, are sweet potatoes and earth-nuts. In

the southern provinces, when the winters are mild, the roots of the

sweet potato frequently remain in the ground all the winter. In the

north the cold is too severe, and consequently the natives are obliged

to dig up and protect the roots. In April those roots which have been

saved for "seed" are planted thickly in beds near the houses or in

the corners of the fields. They begin to push out their young shoots

immediately, and these are ready to be taken off by the beginning of

May. In the mean time the ground on the hill sides has been prepared,

and horizontal ridges or drills formed about two feet apart. About the

10th or 12th of May these cuttings are taken off and planted, and seem

to grow as readily as couch grass. It is astonishing how well they

succeed, considering the little care expended upon them; but we must

keep in mind that this is the commencement of the rainy season at the

change of the monsoon, that the sky is generally cloudy, that scarcely

a day passes without frequent showers, and that consequently the air is

saturated with moisture. The earth-nuts are grown most extensively in

the southern provinces, more particularly in Fokien; while the sweet

potatoes are better a little farther north, where they form the chief

hill crop.

The _winter crops_ in the neighbourhood of Macao and Canton consist of

large quantities of our European vegetables, such as potatoes, peas,

onions, and cabbages, which are grown for the supply of the Europeans

who reside at Hong-kong or Canton: our potatoes are generally planted

here in October, which is considered the best time to insure a good

crop; but as they always sell well in the markets, the growers manage

to keep up a succession during the greater part of the year. Several

varieties of the cabbage tribe, which seem indigenous to China, are

grown extensively in the fields at this season both in the south and

north. These never produce a solid heart like our cabbages, and are of

no value when imported to England; but the celebrated "_Pak-tsae_" or

white cabbage of Shantung and Peking, is a very different plant; it is

never grown in the south of China, but is produced in the summer months

in the north. Large quantities of this delicious vegetable are brought

south every autumn, in the junks which sail at the commencement of the

north-east monsoon in October.

In the northern provinces the principal winter productions are

wheat, barley, peas, beans, the cabbage oil plant, and various other

vegetables of lesser note. These crops are grown on the hills as well

as on the low lands, and on the ground which produces sweet potatoes

in summer. In the Nanking district they fire generally sown or planted

in October upon those lands which produce rice or cotton during the

summer months. Frequently the sowing takes place before the cotton or

the dry summer crops have been removed from the ground, and the young

plants are seen coming up amongst these crops, and ready to take their

place when they are removed. This is done in order to give a longer

season for the ripening of the different crops, and is very generally

practised in the northern districts. The wheat and barley ripen in

Fokien in April, and in the neighbourhood of Shanghae about the middle

of May. About Chinchew and Amoy the wheat crops are so poor that the

labourers pull them up by the hand, in the same manner as we do in

our moorlands in England and Scotland. They are of course much better

in the rich district of Shanghae, but the varieties of both wheat

and barley are far inferior to ours; and as the Chinese sow them too

thickly, they are generally much drawn, and the heads and corn small.

The beans and peas seem to be exactly the same as our field kinds, and

are certainly indigenous to the northern parts of China. Very large

quantities of the cabbage tribe are cultivated for the sake of the oil

which is extracted from their seeds. They are planted out in the fields

in autumn, and their seeds are ripe in April and May, in time to be

removed from the land before the rice crops. It must not be supposed,

however, that the whole of the land is regularly cropt in this manner,

and that, as some writers inform us, it never for a moment lies idle,

for such is not the case.

In the island of Chusan, and over all the rice country of Chekiang

and Keangsoo, there are two plants cultivated in the winter months,

almost exclusively for manure: the one is a species of _Coronilla_; the

other is _Trefoil_, or clover. Large ridges, not unlike those on which

gardeners grow celery, are thrown up on the wet rice fields in the

autumn, and the seeds of the plants are dropt in, in patches at five

inches apart, on the surface of the ridges. In a few days germination

commences, and long before the winter is past the tops of the ridges

are covered with luxuriant herbage. This goes on growing until April,

when it is necessary to prepare the ground for the rice. The ridges are

then levelled, and the manure plants are scattered in a fresh state

over the surface of the ground. The fields are flooded, and the plough

and harrow are employed to turn up and pulverise the soil. The manure,

thus scattered over the ground and half-buried amongst mud and water,

begins to decay immediately, and gives out a most disagreeable putrid

smell. This mode of manuring is generally adopted in all the rice lands

in this part of China, and the young paddy doubtless derives strong

nourishment from the ammonia given out in the decomposition of this

fresh manure.

Fire-wood is so scarce in the country that a great portion of the

straw, cotton stalks, and grass, which would go to manure the fields,

is used for firing, and, therefore, the plan of growing manure for the

land is forced upon the farmers by necessity. The plan of using manure

in a fresh state, instead of allowing it first to decay, has doubtless

been found from long experience to be the best for the young paddy.

The Chinese farmer is not a chemist; he knows little or nothing of

vegetable physiology, but his forefathers have hit accidentally upon

certain systems which are found in practice to succeed, and to these he

himself adheres, and hands them down unchanged to his children.

When the first crop of rice is cut, the second, which has been planted

in the alternate rows, is left to grow and ripen in the autumn; the

ground is stirred up, and the stubble and part of the straw of the

first crop is immediately worked up with the mud and water between the

rows: this decays in the same manner as the trefoil in spring, and

affords manure to the second crop. Prawns and fish of various kinds are

frequently used for the same purpose and in the same way.

Burnt earth mixed with decomposed vegetable matter is another highly

esteemed manure, and is common in all the agricultural districts.

During the summer months all sorts of vegetable rubbish are collected

in heaps by the road-sides, and mixed with straw, grass, parings of

turf, &c., which are set on fire and burn slowly for several days,

until all the rank vegetable matter is decomposed, and the whole

reduced to a rich black earth. It is then turned over several times,

when it presents the same appearance as the vegetable mould used in

gardens in England. This manure is not scattered over the land, but

reserved for covering the seeds, and is applied in the following

manner. When the seed time arrives, one man makes the holes, another

follows and drops in the seeds, and a third puts a handful of this

black earth on the top of them. Being principally vegetable matter, it

keeps the seeds loose and moist during the period of germination, and

afterwards affords them nourishment. This manure is useful mechanically

as well as chemically in a stiff soil, like that of the low lands

of China, where the seeds are apt to be injured in the process of

germination. The young crop thus planted acquires a vigour in its first

growth, which enables it to assimilate the matter which forms the

strong stiff soil, and to strike its roots firmly into it.

What is commonly known by the name of oil-cake, is broken up and used

in the same manner as the vegetable earth, and is also scattered

broadcast over the land. The oil-cake is the remains or refuse of the

seeds of several different plants, such as the tallow tree, various

kinds of beans, and the cabbage formerly mentioned. There is a great

demand for this manure in all parts of the country, and it forms a very

considerable branch of trade both by sea and land. Bones, shells, old

lime, soot, ashes, and all kinds of rubbish, are also eagerly bought up

by the farmer for the purpose of manure.

In the Fa-tee gardens near Canton the proprietors have a curious kind

of rich mud, which they cut up into small square bits, and sell at a

very high price for the growing of plants in pots. This is obtained

chiefly from the ponds and lakes in the vicinity, where the _Nelumbium

speciosum_ grows. This soil is so much esteemed, that the price for

the best kind is 1 dollar for 3 peculs[2], and for the second 1 dollar

for 4 peculs. The inferior sort has been frequently sent to England in

plant cases from Canton.

For crops in a vigorous growing state no kind of manure is so eagerly

sought after as night soil, and every traveller in China has remarked

the large cisterns or earthen tubs which are placed in the most

conspicuous and convenient situation for the reception of this kind

of manure. What would be considered an intolerable nuisance in every

civilised town in Europe, is here looked upon by all classes, rich and

poor, with the utmost complacency; and I am convinced that nothing

would astonish a Chinaman more, than hearing any one complain of the

stench which is continually rising from these manure tanks. Almost

every Chinese town is placed on the banks of a river or canal, and the

water is generally led not only round the walls, thus forming a kind

of moat, but also through many parts of the city. Long clumsy boats

are placed in different departments of the town, into which the night

soil and urine are emptied and conveyed from thence into the country.

The fields in the neighbourhood of cities are generally supplied with

it by coolies, who go every morning to market loaded with the produce

of their firms. Each brings home two buckets of this manure, slung at

the ends of his bamboo pole. In England it is generally supposed that

the Chinese carry the night soil and urine to these tanks, and leave

it there to undergo fermentation, before they apply it to the land.

This, however, is not the case; at least, not generally. In the fertile

agricultural districts in the north, I have observed that the greater

part of this stimulant is used in a fresh state, being of course

sufficiently diluted with water before it is applied to the crops. And

there can be little doubt that in this the Chinese are perfectly right,

as the manure must be much more efficient in this state than when a

great portion of its ammonia has passed off into the air. The Chinese,

as far as I could learn, have no mode of disinfecting their manure, but

they seem to be perfectly aware, that if allowed free access to the air

a great loss must result, owing to the gases which are given out and

dissipated. Without waiting, then, for fermentation or putrefaction,

this manure is at once applied to the growing crops. On the afternoons,

or on cloudy days, the labourers are seen carrying water from the

nearest pond or canal to the manure tank, for the purpose of diluting

its contents. This being done, they fill their buckets, attaching one

to each end of their bamboo in the usual way, and carry them off to

their destination. When this is reached, each man takes a small wooden

ladle having a long bamboo handle, and with this he scatters the liquid

over the growing crop. A strong stimulant like this would probably in

other circumstances have an injurious effect; but, by using it only

when the crops are young and luxuriant, they assimilate its gases, and

a most marked effect is produced upon their growth and productiveness.

This kind of liquid manure is generally applied to wheat, barley, and

all the cabbage tribe, and other garden vegetables; but not to rice,

which is always flooded during its growth.

This manure is sometimes used after putrefaction and fermentation

have taken place, and even in this state it is very efficient. In the

gardens near Canton it is often dried and mixed with the soil taken

from the bottom of the Lotus ponds, and used for growing plants in

pots, or for enriching any particular tree which may be a favourite in

the garden.

Although the land is sometimes allowed to lie idle for some months, yet

there is no regular system of fallowing, nor is the rotation of crops

much known or practised. Indeed, as regards the low lands, the soil

being a kind of stiff, strong clay, capable of yielding many crops of

rice in succession, without being in any way burthened or impoverished,

no such mode of cultivation is necessary.

[1] Several of our ploughs have been sent out to China, and offered to

the native farmers _gratis_, but they will not use them.

[2] A Chinese pecul is equal to 133-1/4 lbs.

CHAP. XVII.

RETURN TO CHUSAN.--ITS SUPPOSED UNHEALTHINESS.--MORTALITY AMONGST THE

QUEEN'S TROOPS WHEN FIRST STATIONED THERE.--SUBSEQUENT SALUBRITY.--ITS

ADVANTAGES OVER HONG-KONG AS A BRITISH SETTLEMENT.--NEW PLANTS FOUND

ON THE ISLAND.--NINGPO.--GARDENS OF THE MANDARINS.--MANNERS OF CHINESE

LADIES.--SAIL FOR HONG-KONG.--TOMBS OF THE CHINESE.--SITUATIONS

SUPPOSED TO BE THE BEST.--SOOTHSAYERS EMPLOYED.--THEIR METHODS OF

WORKING ON THE MINDS OF THE PEOPLE.--MR. LAY CONSULTED AS TO THE BEST

SITE FOR A GRAVE.--INSCRIPTIONS ON THE TOMBS.--PERIODICAL VISITS TO

THEM BY RELATIVES.--DIFFERENT MODES OF INTERMENT.--COFFINS EXPOSED IN

THE FIELDS.--KEPT IN HOUSES.--TOMB NEAR SUNG-KIANG-FOO.--FAVOURITE

FLOWERS FOR PLANTING ON THE GRAVES.

My first visit to Chusan in 1843 was during the autumn and winter,

but in 1844 I had an opportunity of exploring this beautiful island,

at intervals, from the commencement of spring, until the close of the

season. At this time the first impression regarding the unhealthiness

of the climate had been entirely removed, and the island was looked

upon as the most healthy in the Chinese seas.

It will be recollected that when the island was first occupied by

our troops, the mortality was so great that the place was pronounced

by every one to be the most unhealthy in China. Many a brave soldier

fell a victim to the malignant fever which prevailed at the time. No

regiment suffered more than Her Majesty's 26th, the "Cameronians,"

who were encamped on a green hill which overlooked the city, and

which certainly appeared to be the most healthy spot which could have

been selected for the purpose. That place still bears the name of the

"Cameronian Hill," and is now thickly strewed with the graves of our

countrymen.

It soon became evident, that this great mortality proceeded from other

causes than the paddy fields which surrounded the city of Tinghae.

Invalids from Hong-kong and Amoy were sent here to recover their

health; and the difference in the appearance of the troops stationed

in Chusan, from those in Hong-kong, was most marked. Dr. Maxwell of

the Madras army, who was a most excellent judge in such matters, has

often expressed his opinion, that, with good medical skill and ordinary

care, this beautiful island might have been rendered one of the most

healthy stations for our troops in the East. Indeed, every one now

seemed to regret that we had not secured Chusan as a part of the

British dominions for the protection of our trade in China, instead of

the barren and unhealthy island of Hong-kong; and some even went so

far as to recommend that means should still be taken by our government

to accomplish this desirable end. The time, however, for doing this

had gone by, and I believe that every right-thinking person would have

seen with regret any power exercised by a great and exalted nation like

England to infringe a solemn treaty "which had been entered into with a

nation so utterly powerless as the Chinese; and most assuredly nothing

less than this--no negotiations or promises--would have induced the

Chinese to give up an island like Chusan, which commands the central

and most important parts of their empire. That we committed a blunder

and made a bad bargain is quite certain, but having done so, we must

abide by the consequences. Had we retained Chusan, it would not only

have been a healthy place for our troops and merchants, but it would

also have proved a safeguard to our trade in the north, which must

ultimately become of greater importance than that at Canton. Moreover,

we should have been in a central position as regards a large and

important part of the world, which must sooner or later open its ports

to our commerce. I allude of course to Japan and Corea, both of which

are only a few days' sail from Chusan, and are still in a great measure

sealed countries to Europeans. These regrets, however, are vain.

Chusan in spring is one of the most beautiful islands in the world.

It reminds the Englishman of his own native land. In the mornings the

grass sparkles with dew, the air is cool and refreshing, the birds are

singing in every bush, and flowers are hanging in graceful festoons

from the trees and hedges.

The new plants of the island, some of which I had discovered in the

preceding autumn, I now saw in flower for the first time. Early in

spring the hill sides were covered with a beautiful Daphne with lilac

flowers (_Daphne Fortuni_ Lindl.); _Azalea ovata_ Lindl., certainly

one of the finest and most distinct plants of this kind which I have

introduced, also grows wild on the hills, and was in full bloom at

this period. A fine new Buddlea (_B. Bindleyana_) had a most graceful

appearance, as its long spikes of purple flowers hung in profusion from

the hedges on the hill sides, often side by side with the well-known

_Glycine sinensis_. Another plant, certainly one of the most beautiful

shrubs of northern China, the _Weigela rosea_, was first discovered

in the garden of a Chinese mandarin near the city of Tinghae on this

island. This spring, it was loaded with its noble rose-coloured

flowers, and was the admiration of all who saw it, both English and

Chinese. I have great pleasure in saying that all these plants and many

others, natives of Chusan, are now growing in our gardens in England.

Ningpo is about 40 miles west from Chusan, and is situated on the

mainland. My visits to it at different times during this summer were

attended with much less difficulty than in the preceding autumn. I was

now beginning to speak a little Chinese, and was perfectly acquainted

with the town, and the whole of the places where the different

mandarins' gardens and nurseries were situated. The mandarins were

particularly inquisitive at this time about every thing which related

to the movements of the English, or other foreigners, who were likely

to establish themselves at their port; and I soon perceived that, as we

were able to keep up a conversation together in Chinese, my visits were

very agreeable to them. The nurserymen, too, having found out that my

money was as valuable to them as that which they received from their

own countrymen, threw aside their shyness, and were all anxiety to sell

me any plants I wanted.

The gardens of the mandarins were extremely gay, particularly during

the early months of the year; and, what was of more importance to me,

contained a number of new plants of great beauty and interest. On

entering one of the gardens on a fine morning in May, I was struck with

a mass of yellow flowers which completely covered a distant part of the

wall. The colour was not a common yellow, but had something of buff

in it, which gave the flowers a striking and uncommon appearance. I

immediately ran up to the place, and, to my surprise and delight, found

that it was a most beautiful _new double yellow climbing rose_. I have

no doubt, from what I afterwards learned, that this rose is from the

more northern districts of the empire, and will prove perfectly hardy

in Europe. Another rose, which the Chinese call the "_five coloured,_"

was also found in one of these gardens at this time. It belongs to the

section commonly called China roses in this country, but grows in a

very strange and beautiful manner. Sometimes it produces self-coloured

blooms--being either red or French white, and frequently having flowers

of both on one plant at the same time--while at other times the

flowers are striped with the two colours. This will also be as hardy

as our common China rose. _Glycine sinensi_s is often grown on a flat

trellis in front of the summer-house, or forms a kind of portico, which

affords a pleasing shade. Entwined with one of these trees, I found

another variety, having very long racemes of pure white flowers, which

contrasted well with the light blue of the other. I obtained permission

from the old Chinese gentleman to whom it belonged (my old friend Dr.

Chang) to make some layers of this fine plant, and I am happy to say

that one of these is now alive in the garden at Chiswick.

The Horticultural Society having sent me out some small optical

instruments to be given as presents, I presented some of them to the

Doctor, with which he was much pleased, and offered in return to let

me have whatever cuttings or plants from his garden I might wish to

possess.

We are generally led to believe that ladies of rank in this country are

never seen by visitors. It is quite true that Chinese custom, in this

respect, differs entirely from ours; and that the females here, like

those of most half civilised or barbarous nations, are kept in the back

ground, and are not considered as on an equality with their husbands.

For example, they do not sit at the same table; when a "sing-song"

or theatrical performance is got up, they are put in a place out of

view, where they can see all that is going on and yet remain unseen.

But for all this they are not entirely secluded from society; at least

they used frequently to honour me with their presence, and crowd round

me with the greatest curiosity. At first they used to be extremely

shy, and only took sly peeps at me from behind doors and through

windows; by and by, however, their strong curiosity conquered their

bashfulness, and then they used to stand and look on very composedly.

They generally, however, kept at a little distance, and whenever a

movement was made towards where they stood, they pretended to be vastly

frightened, and ran away; but they soon came back again.

To Mr. Mackenzie, one of our merchants at Ningpo, and also to Mr. Thom,

Her Majesty's consul, I was greatly indebted for their kindness and

hospitality. They did every thing in their power to forward my views,

and to both these gentlemen I take this opportunity of rendering my

best thanks.

After having spent the summer in the districts of Ningpo, Chusan, and

Shanghae, I returned to the last-mentioned place, where my plants were

all collected, intending immediately to sail for Hong-kong, and send

a portion of them home to England; but the exposure to the sun during

the summer was now beginning to affect my health, and when I landed at

Shanghae I was laid up with a severe attack of fever. Providentially

this happened when I was amongst my English friends, and, as I had the

means of procuring excellent medical advice, I recovered in the course

of a fortnight, and was able to proceed to sea, where the change of air

completed my cure. I reached Hong-kong in November, and forthwith made

preparations for sending my collections home in several vessels, which

were at anchor in the bay at this time.

During the summer which had now passed by, I had had frequent

opportunities of inspecting the tombs of the Chinese both in the

northern and southern districts. In the south, the natives form

no regular cemeteries or churchyards, as we do in Europe, but the

tombs of the dead are scattered all over the sides of the hills, the

most pleasant situations being generally selected. The more wealthy

individuals often convey their dead a considerable distance, and

employ a kind of fortune-teller, whose duty it is to find out the

most appropriate resting-place. This man goes with the corpse to

the place appointed, and of course pretends to be very wise in the

selection of the spot, as well as in the choice of the soil with which

the ashes of the dead are to mingle in after years; and upon trial,

should the particular earth appear unsuitable, he immediately orders

the procession off to some other place in the neighbourhood, where he

expects to be more successful. I believe many of the Chinese have this

important point settled before they die; for one day when one of our

principal merchants went to call on old Howqua, the late Hong merchant

at Canton, a tray was brought into the room with several kinds of earth

upon it, which the old man examined with great care, and then fixed on

the one in which he wished to be buried.

A situation on the hill side is also considered of great importance,

especially if it commands a view of a beautiful bay or lake. But I

believe that of all places the one most coveted is where a winding

stream, in its course, passes and then returns again to the foot

of the hill where the grave is to be made. The director of the

ceremonies, with a compass in his hand, settles the direction in which

the body is to lie, which is another point of great importance. An

intelligent Chinese, with whom I was acquainted, informed me that this

fortune-teller of the dead is often very eloquent in his descriptions

of the future happiness of those who obey his directions; he informs

them that they or their children, or some one in whom they are much

interested, shall enjoy riches and honours in after life, as a reward

for the attention and respect they have paid to the remains of their

fathers; that as the stream which they then behold when standing around

their father's grave flows and returns again in its windings, so shall

their path through life be smooth and pleasant until they sink into

the tomb hoary with years, respected, beloved, and mourned by their

children.

These men are generally great rogues, and play upon the prejudices

of the people. It frequently happens, that after a corpse has been

interred for some time, they call upon the relatives, and inform them,

that for some cause which they affect to explain, it is absolutely

necessary to remove and re-inter it. Should the relations object to

this, the answer is, "Very well, I don't care, but your children and

relations will also be regardless of your remains when you die, and you

will be miserable in your graves." The feelings of the poor deluded

people are thus wrought upon, and a further sum of money is extracted

for finding a more suitable grave.

The late Mr. Lay, during one of his rambles amongst the hills on the

banks of the river Min, was present at one of these ceremonies, and the

relatives of the deceased crowded round him and consulted him as to the

site of the grave, under the impression that he was well versed in such

matters. He remarks in his journal, that "much good or much evil is

thought to betide the survivors from a right or wrong position. Keangse

practitioners in this '_te-le_' and '_fung shwuy,_' or soothsaying from

the influence of the earth's local modalities, get large moneys by the

trade; but as they do not agree amongst themselves, the people are fain

to ask counsel of a stranger."

In my travels in the south of China I often came upon graves in the

most retired places amongst the hills; they were all more or less of

the same form, namely, a half circle cut out of the hill side, having

the body interred behind it. Sometimes, indeed generally, there were

several of these half-circles with a succession of terraces in front

of the grave; and in the burying-places of the more wealthy, the

semi-circles were built of brick or stone, and on a more extensive

scale. In the centre of the semi-circle, and of course near the

body, the grave stone is placed with its inscription. M. Callery,

an excellent Chinese scholar, informed me that these inscriptions

are always of the most simple kind, merely stating the name of the

deceased, that he died in such a dynasty, in such a year. This is the

plain and unflattering tale which the Chinese tombstone tells. In some

instances--I cannot tell if in all--after the body has decayed, the

bones are dug up, and carefully put into earthenware vessels, which

are then placed on the hill side above ground. These, as well as the

graves, are visited at stated times by the relatives. They go first to

the grave of the patriarch, or father of the tribe, and then to those

of the other members of the family in rotation, where they perform

their devotions, and offer incense. They afterwards dine together when

the ceremonies are over.

I was once or twice in the wild mountain districts in the interior,

at the time when the natives visited the tombs. Even the most retired

parts had their visitors, and it was both pleasing and affecting to see

the little groups assembled round the graves, paying the tribute of

affection to those whose memory they revered and loved. The widow was

seen kneeling by the grave of her lost husband; children, often very

young, shedding tears of sorrow for a father or mother; and, sometimes,

an old man whose hair was white with age, was there mourning the loss

of those whom he had looked to as the support of his declining years.

All were cutting the long grass and weeds which were growing round the

tombs, and planting their favourite flowers to bloom and to decorate

them.

Three Years' Wanderings in the Northern Provinces of China Including a visit to the tea, silk, and cotton countries; with an account of the agriculture and horticulture of the Chinese, new plants, etc. · 第 24 / 25 章

Several very distinct and beautiful Azaleas were added to my