is a convenient point from which to make excursions. On the first Sunday
morning I attended service at the English Cathedral; the building is on
the heights, surrounded by a well-kept close and overlooking a fine
residence portion of the city. I was conveyed to church in a sedan chair
on account of the steep ascent. During our excursion to the Peak, we
first took a railway chair, then a sedan chair; leaving that, we had a
long climb before we reached the summit, where there is a flagstaff.
What a view was before us--mountains in the distance, the harbor and the
islands, shipping of all kinds, and roofs of every description!
Descending, we had tea at the Peak Hotel. Another afternoon we went in a
launch to Kowloon. We took a jinrikisha for a general exploration of the
old Chinese city, and aside from what has been indicated, we went
through the native quarter, saw several temples, visited a Chinese
school, and ascended the high wall for a view. Much of the wall is
unimpaired. A drive in the country followed, and we saw many tiny
Chinese gardens and a number of cemeteries.
The jinrikisha ride to Aberdeen, a fishing village some miles distant,
proved delightful. The roadway was sometimes close to the water's edge;
then we ascended and looked down over low cliffs, with coves ever and
anon dotting the shore. It reminded me continually of the ride from
Sorrento to Amalfi, and again of the Upper Corniche drive from Mentone
to Nice.
Early on Wednesday, March 25th, we left on the steamer _Keung Shang_ for
a visit to Canton, ninety miles distant. Leaving the commercial city and
a fleet of shipping vessels behind us, we had some miles of lake
scenery; then we had islands and the coast line beyond. Soon we were in
Pearl River, and the surroundings grew more picturesque,--now a little
village near the water's edge with a mountain behind, and then more
islands and more mountain ranges. We had a glimpse of Castle Peak, two
thousand feet high. We then passed an immense prominence, called the
Half-Way Rock. At a place known as Tiger's Mouth, fortifications were
seen. The country soon becomes flat, with rice fields and fruit farms;
we saw the Whampoa Pagoda and some miles farther on the Honam Pagoda.
Near Canton, we passed another pagoda, and then the white spire of the
French cathedral gleamed out, and our goal was reached. It is a most
interesting river trip, and is unfortunately more often taken at night,
in order to economize time.
The first impression of Canton is one of noise, a fearful din rising and
falling in a kind of cadence, and seeming to proceed largely from an
immense flotilla of boats extending a long way, tied, in a majority of
cases, seven and eight rows deep--craft of all kinds, sampans, junks,
rice boats, freight, each with its quota of humanity, for this is a
veritable floating city, with a life all its own, and almost wholly
independent of the Canton proper which we were about to visit and which
numbered a hundred thousand souls.
We had not anticipated much enjoyment in Canton, having read of the dirt
and smells, but we had not expected to be deafened at our very entrance,
and I think for the time being it dulled the consciousness of this
wonderful spectacle of a floating independent city just at the door of a
city whose name is famous the world over.
* * * * *
CANTON, _March 25th_: We were soon conveyed up a back canal to the
Shameen (the name of the city of foreign concession), where our
quarters, the Hotel Victoria, were located. My room was situated on the
ground floor, the gallery opening on a large garden or court, abloom
with trees and flowers. There was no key to the door, and strangers were
all about me, but the complacent manner in which I met this fact caused
me to realize that my courage was greater than when at Jeypore in
far-away India.
The first afternoon, a jinrikisha ride convinced us that we were in the
most congested city on the face of the globe; a city of streets so
narrow that two chairs could hardly pass each other; a city of strange
sights and more violent contrasts than any we had yet seen. And the
smells!--the English language does not contain words strong enough to
describe them. In the bazar portion of the city we were diverted by the
box-like shops, with their open fronts, and filled with curios, works in
jade, wood, and unique articles of feather jewelry.
Then the wonderful Chinese signs! We had noticed and admired them in
Hong-Kong, but in size and beauty they now far excelled anything of the
kind we had seen before. They extended from an upper story, for these
bazars were many of them on the ground floor of four-story apartments,
each story having its front gallery where one could witness diversified
scenes of family life. The signs are about a half a yard wide and are
decorated from top to bottom, with gold and brilliant colors, the
Chinese letters forming a large feature of the display. These signs
(sometimes five grouped together) are wonderfully effective, as they
sway back and forth in the wind, and they are a partial indication of
the Chinese industry which prevails.
[Illustration: _A five-story pagoda_]
There were larger shops in better locations in the city, and here we
found the grass linen embroidered articles and the crape for which
Canton is famous.
The following morning, we departed on a more serious sight-seeing
expedition, to include all manner of typical Cantonese places, but
before I had been out an hour I decided that the description of one
temple only would not adequately convey a true impression, for
everywhere we went things seemed unreal and grotesque, but interesting.
First, we entered what our guide termed the Medicine Temple, not so very
large, where on the opposite side of the room huge idols were placed
before all manner of receptacles for holding medicine; next a Buddhist
Temple, very inferior to any we had seen; then a Confucian temple, plain
like the majority of them; while a Shinto temple had the characteristic
torii before it. This latter I will describe when Japan, the land of the
torii, is the topic.
The Five-story Pagoda is quite imposing, as it is placed on the city
wall and commands a wide view. It is the custom for parties to go there
and take their picnic luncheon, and our guide had planned for us to do
this, but unfortunately the pagoda was being repaired and visitors were
not permitted. So we proceeded to a large building on an eminence, which
was furnished like a club house and was evidently for public use. There
was a conventional garden in front, affording a very extended view.
A visit to the so-called "Home of the Dead" followed; this was unlike
anything ever experienced before. We entered an enclosure, laid out
partly as a garden; there were walks leading around, and some of them
had low rooms at the sides, with open fronts, while on a plinth rested
coffins of different styles; the bodies within were awaiting burial.
Flowers were scattered here and there, and I believe fruit, food, and
offerings of various kinds also.
We next visited the place of execution, which was ghastly with its
associations, and the executioner swung the large instrument around, as
the guide explained the process of decapitating heads. But fortunately
for our nerves the place then contained only long rows of jars from a
pottery near by.
The Nambo Prison proved to be a wooden affair, gates and all, but the
poor unkept, unwashed victims who glared at us through the bars looked
too sickly and emaciated to offer any resistance, even had they a mind
to escape.
[Illustration: _Temple of the Five Genii at Canton_]
By far the most interesting place we visited was the Temple of the Five
Hundred Genii, with large brass gods seated on opposite sides of a long
hall,--the Temple of the Five Genii, and the ancestral temple of a
certain royal family of China. We first entered a large enclosure, then
a goodly-sized audience room, and next the temple proper. The three
walls of this room (as I remember them) were fitted up like an immense
cabinet, with rows of drawers, each supposed to contain some document
relating to that particular ancestor. There was one upright vacant space
which the guide said would be filled when that branch of the family
died.
We were here without a "Murray," as in Java and Siam, so we graciously
accepted such information as our most intelligent guide could give us,
who, by the way, was the original guide of Canton, two sons now
following in his footsteps, for the father in his later years rarely
accompanies parties. He is a gentleman, affable, well dressed in Chinese
brocade, and less unresponsive than are most Chinese; it was indeed a
pleasure to be "conducted" by him.
The Hall of Examination is open to the public only once in three years,
when students of high-school grade are examined for entrance to a
university course, eighty-seven of the applicants being chosen. The hall
has, on three sides, little box-like slates about six by eight feet,
furnished with only a plank on which the student must sit and sleep. He
is shut in there for three days, food being given him on entering for
the entire time. This torture is repeated three times, so that nine days
of purgatory have to be endured before the goal is reached.
The aristocracy of Canton is not one of wealth, but of intellectual
honors; many of the Chinamen who are seen wearing horn-rimmed spectacles
are either of a literary turn of mind or are attempting to pass as such.
Seen from the city wall or any very high point, Canton seems a city of
roofs, with scarcely an opening and not a vestige of green. The narrow
streets are many of them covered with awnings. It is a city of great
color, the brilliant signs, the covered palanquin chairs, the costumes
of the wealthy Chinese, all contributing to the riotous effect. It is a
city of very wide contrasts, for rich and poor jostle each other on the
streets and their homes are often side by side.
Canton is, after all, even with the noise, smells, and dirt included, a
fascinating city, and while one would not care to remain long in it, one
should never omit it.
Shameen, the island of concession, where are located two hotels,
consulates, churches, some shops, and the homes of all the foreign
residents, is a most pleasing place. Long avenues of trees are seen on
every side, the grounds of many of the homes sloping to the river,
which of itself adds to the beauty; the water is spanned by two iron
bridges which are locked every night; everywhere a general air of
refinement prevails. This very Shameen furnishes the greatest contrast
of all to hoary, venerable old Canton.
[Illustration: _The San Paulo Façade_]
It is claimed that Canton's origin dates from three hundred years before
the Christian era. The city was then encircled by a kind of stockade
made of bamboo and river mud, and it resembled a camp in most of its
details. A thousand years and Canton is alluded to as a commercial city,
with a special commissioner appointed by the Government to superintend
foreign trade. At an early date the great pass was constructed through
the Mei-hung range of mountains, and this proves to be one of the
principal trade-routes in use at the present time. Another thousand
years and we have the city of to-day, with its peculiar conditions, its
fascinations. Surely its age commands our respect. Its people, seemingly
impassive, are a subject for study, as are all the Chinese. Will the
Western mind ever be able to understand this? I have a theory that
behind the impassiveness there is a certain kind of responsiveness if it
can be reached, but thus far I have only been able to test it upon house
servants in California and those who have served us at different points
in our trip. I have met persons who share my belief, their opinion
being based on an acquaintance with the educated class.
* * * * *
MACAO, _March 28th_: We again took the steamer _Kian Tang_ for an
eighty-mile run to Macao. The scene is quite as varied and pleasing as
the passage from Hong-Kong to Canton. There were numerous islands, and,
on the mainland, villages were seen with occasional forts which told the
story of past invasions. Rice fields and great groves of mulberry trees
indicated some of the chief industries of China. Macao is situated on
the western shores of the estuary of the great Pearl River, sometimes
called Canton River. It was founded early in the sixteenth century by
the Portuguese, who were the first nation to invade the Eastern seas in
the interest of commerce, having aided the Chinese during the invasion
of pirates. As a reward, in the year 1557, the rocky peninsula was given
to them, the Portuguese having previously made use of it as a
trading-station and a naval depot.
[Illustration: _The bund at Macao, called Praia Grande_]
Macao is beautifully located high above the sea, and the approach is
fine; the first impression is of a Mediterranean port, but on landing,
the style of the buildings and the arrangement of the streets reminded
me of Spain, while the blended coloring on the parapet and walls (which
only time can give) was like Ponta Delgada of the Azores. Our hotel
stood on an eminence overlooking the sea, indeed so near the sea that
the moan and swish of the waves were always with us. The view from my
balcony brought to mind the outlook from the old monastery at Amalfi,
Italy. The whole atmosphere of the place was peaceful, and this was its
chief attraction. We were there over Sunday, and the impression was
deepened. Our arrival being early in the morning, we at once commenced
our tour of observation, our guide seeming quite intelligent. We knew
that the population of Macao was about eighty thousand, and, with the
exception of a few Portuguese officials, entirely Chinese, so we were
prepared for Chinese scenes, and it seemed quite consistent that we
should first visit a large opium factory, this drug being one of the
large exports of Macao. Here was explained the entire process of
manufacture, from the poppy leaf to the final shipment; and for a
further object lesson, we were taken into a room arranged for smoking
opium, where sat three richly dressed Chinamen, half reclining; two had
already passed into the temporary land of bliss and the third had the
far-away look in his eyes that betokened semi-unconsciousness.
The fourteenth-century façade of San Paulo greatly interested us aside
from its architectural merit; it stands to-day, as it has stood for
generations, the sole remnant of a fine cathedral which perished in an
earthquake. It is like a sentinel pointing the way to a better life. The
modern Catholic cathedral had no distinctive features. The English
church was unpretentious, but the Protestant cemetery adjoining contains
tablets sacred to the memory of many military and naval officers and
also of missionaries and their families; I remember especially the stone
erected to a Rev. Mr. Morrison, one of the early missionaries to China.
Macao's chief claim to renown is its association with Camoëns, the great
Portuguese poet of the sixteenth century, whose epic poem, "The
Lusiads," has been translated into most known languages. This poem was
written during his ten years' residence in Macao, and the garden,
grotto, and bust of Camoëns are all a memorial tribute from a fellow
countryman, Lorenco Marques. The garden and grotto were interesting, and
the bronze bust which rests on a block whereon is engraved a poem to
Macao by an English scholar, Sir John Bowring, is fine in design and
execution. It is interesting to note that through "The Lusiads" Camoëns
was permitted to return to Portugal to end his days, he having been
banished twice because his views were too outspoken. He died at Lisbon
in 1580.
The shops in Macao were of no special interest, and the street scenes
lacked life and color. A long drive followed luncheon, first to the
wonderful Bund, here called Praia Granda, which is semi-circular like
the harbor, and the street fronting the water is lined with homes or
business houses. Not one discordant note is here found. The drive is
protected on the water side by a high stone coping, and it was being
extended far beyond the original curve on the right-hand side, while at
the left it leads out into a prolonged drive, first on the heights where
are located residences and a club, then on to the country, until we
reach the dividing line between a Portuguese possession and China. This
is marked by an imposing arch. On the outskirts we visited several
factories, one for weaving matting, another for the manufacture of every
form of fire-works (a regular Fourth of July supply), and that the
realism should not be missing, some small boys on the corner exploded a
bunch of fire-crackers.
There were other factories, but the most interesting was one devoted to
the manufacture of silk thread from cocoons. It was very large, and only
women and girls were there employed, and the deft way in which they
caught the silk end from the cocoon (the latter is first placed in
boiling water) and wound it on reels quite won our admiration. We were
then taken to rooms where large twists of silk were placed ready for
shipment to England, a package not over two feet square representing an
investment of many thousands of dollars. The long drive to the hotel
ended an eventful day; the evening was to furnish further excitement in
a visit to some fan-tan parlors for which Macao is noted; indeed, it is
the Monte Carlo of the Far East, and I fear this feature attracts more
tourists than the beauty of the location. Certain it is that the
steamers from Hong-Kong supply a large contingent that comes hither
daily, since both fan-tan and lotteries are prohibited in Hong-Kong. All
the parlors are under Chinese management and are extensively patronized.
Some are said to be very luxurious in their appointments, being, of
course, for the wealthy patrons, who do not, however, sit on the floor
where the gambling is going on, but in a little room arranged with
galleries all around. Their servants sit below and receive from them an
indication as to certain numbers which may win or lose as the wheel of
fortune turns. There are retiring-rooms for the opium smokers and
separate places for serving refreshments. Such a condition represents
the aristocratic status of the game. The reverse aspect is seen in the
miserable "joints," which are too dreadful even to contemplate. Here is
where Macao derives the revenue to carry on its fine improvements, and,
as in Bangkok, there is no intimation of a desire to reform the evil.
The Chinese have also invaded Burma, and intermarriage with the Burmese
maidens is becoming general. Java is not exempt from their presence; in
Siam they are very numerous; in Singapore they permeate everywhere; and
in Macao they are possessors of the field. Truly their colonizing power
is tremendous, and, unlike the British, they commence downward and work
upward, the coolie ever being the advance guard.
On Sunday morning there was no service at the English church, and so two
of our party, by invitation of the missionary, Rev. Mr. Todd, attended a
Chinese service held in rooms which were far from adequate for their
needs. A Sunday-school of about two hundred children was just leaving as
we entered, and their interested faces made me hopeful that this early
influence might save them from the fan-tan attraction. The service was
in Chinese, but the reverend gentleman, not being fluent in the Chinese
language, first gave a paragraph in English, and this was translated by
his wife into Chinese, which made it more interesting and assuredly more
understandable to us. The audience paid the closest attention, and to my
surprise their faces revealed an animated response. The women were
dressed in the long black coats and loose trousers seen everywhere, but
their hair ornaments were of gold, set with jewels, and their earrings
jade or large pearls of great value. At the close of the service a man
arose and evidently made a most impassioned appeal, judging by the
intonation of his voice and the spontaneous applause he received. At the
close Mr. Todd told us that it was an appeal for money with which to
secure a better place of meeting, and that the Chinese women in front
had already given two hundred dollars toward the movement.
On Monday morning the steamer _Suitai_ carried us safely back to
Hong-Kong. The harbor looked more attractive than ever, and we were glad
to be again under English rule. On entering the hotel, an incident
occurred that lent coloring to my "theory." In order to explain, I must
go backward. On my first arrival at the hotel I had placed some
photographs on my chiffonier, and among them was the one of little
Katharine in the dog-cart with Omg, our American China boy, standing by
her. The following morning on entering my room, I saw both of the men
who were in charge of the cleaning gazing intently at the picture;
turning around, one of them asked, "You know China boy?" I assented, and
then told him something of the Chinamen who were employed in California.
This seemed to please them both immensely. On my return from Canton and
Macao, I walked down a long hall to my room and encountered several of
the so-termed "boys," every one of whom smiled and greeted me. I was
puzzled for a moment,--they had formerly seemed so impassive,--and then
I remembered the morning's incident and inferred that all had seen the
picture and had been told that I "knew China boy."
Manila was in our original itinerary, and on our first arrival in
Hong-Kong we were given our choice of a trip there or of the one we had
enjoyed at Canton and Macao, as the visit to Manila would have afforded
us but one day in Canton without even a glimpse of Macao. We thought we
had chosen wisely, but that evening, when we heard the enthusiastic
report of several who had just returned from Manila, I regretted that we
could not have done both, which would be my advice to all future
tourists.
We had three more days in Hong-Kong. There were jinrikisha rides,
shopping, and attendance at a Chinese theatre where much noise, vigorous
action, and very little dramatic talent were in evidence. It was,
however, interesting to watch the people, and to note their enthusiasm,
with no impassiveness now, as well as the peculiar mixture of costumes.
The business streets were full of life and action, and the shops
contained a very tempting array of articles. One afternoon I took a
jinrikisha ride on the Bund, past the great warehouses, or godowns as
they are called, filled with goods or food stuffs for shipment to every
port in China. Hong-Kong also aims to be a centre of supply for the
shipping of the world that comes to her door, and her dockyards and
shops are said to be equal to the demand. Somewhere I have seen this
statement, "that if Hong-Kong could be a port of origin instead of a
port of call, her commercial importance would equal that of London." The
means of transportation are varied, including electric cars, carriages,
jinrikishas, and sedan chairs. These may sometimes be seen following
each other in succession. The streets show the cosmopolitan side of the
city's life, as denizens of almost every clime assemble there, in the
interest of business or of pleasure.
The militia gives a dash of color to the scene,--the officers with their
uniforms, and the ever-present Tommy Atkins in his khaki suit,--besides
the wealthy Chinese in robes of brocade, the first of the kind we had
seen, and the coolie in short jacket and blue knee trousers, the color
being a badge of servitude. The English social life of the city is also
said to be very agreeable to residents, or to those who remain long
enough to participate in it, and I can now understand the enthusiasm of
friends who once resided there. When we left Hong-Kong, we felt that we
could have lingered much longer and been happy.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _The bund at Shanghai_]
SHANGHAI: Our approach to Shanghai was through the Wusung River, as all
large steamers are obliged to anchor at the bar. A launch was taken for
a ride of sixteen miles. The river banks were picturesque, and little
villages were succeeded by a vast amount of shipping, while factories
and warehouses from an artistic standpoint spoiled a large space of the
water front, the redeeming feature further on being a Public Garden, the
Consulates, and a collection of fine business houses.