and it is a most interesting trip, especially if you stop at the ports
and see their multitudinous activities. Their variety is most striking:
no two are alike, and even the sails are different in every port down the
coast.
I have already spoken of Hangchow, capital of Chekiang, so the next on
my list is Wênchowfu, in the same province. The approach to it is up
a lovely creek and river, as fair a scene as can be imagined. When I
looked at it in the evening light from the top of a hill, the wealth of
vegetation and the network of river and canals for irrigation show how
rich the land is; the waterways are also the roads by which the district
is most easily visited. Besides lofty trees, there were clumps of bamboo,
which seem to be used for every imaginable purpose. They grow an inch in
a night, and it is usual for bamboos to grow thirty inches in a month:
this is their average height, but some varieties grow to 120 feet. Then
they put out numerous shoots and the main stems harden. The delicate
shoots are eaten like asparagus, and the seeds are also used as food:
there is a Chinese proverb that they are specially numerous when the
rice crop fails. The stem is high and hard and jointed: one joint is big
enough to make an excellent bucket, another will be used for a bottle or
a cooking vessel, and the outer shell is so siliceous that it acts as a
whetstone.
On reaching Wênchowfu I took a ricksha and went in search of the
missionaries. Though an unexpected guest, I received a friendly welcome
from Mr. and Mrs. Slichter, of the China Inland Mission, and they took
me to see the city and surroundings. It is a treaty port, facing the
Eastern Sea, and its streets are bright and clean, full of attractive
shops. Inlaid soapstone is one charming industry: the silks manufactured
here are fine and costly, two or three dollars per foot. The people
are brusque and independent in their manners, but very responsive
to missionary work, and they become staunch and loyal adherents to
Christianity. We visited an interesting temple put up recently by the
local trade guilds to two officers who refused to acknowledge the
Republic. These guilds are thoroughly democratic and date from time
immemorial: they are still all-powerful in China and regulate trade
throughout the empire, despite the changing times. Every self-respecting
merchant belongs to one. The guilds are now showing signs of dealing
with the price of labour, which is a highly significant fact. They do
not brook Government interference with their members, of whom they take
a sort of paternal care.[28] These guilds are not only of great value
to the Chinese, but also to foreigners, who can apply to their members
either directly or by agents, called compradores, belonging to the same
guild, whom foreigners can employ to transact business for them. In
Canton there are no less then seventy-two guilds.
We went to visit an English United Methodist community, but as it was
Saturday afternoon we found no one at home. They have a large work
in a hundred and fifty stations, but only one European worker! They
also have a big hospital, but their one and only English doctor had
been absent two years on furlough, leaving it in charge of two Chinese
doctors: they have no English nurse. It is really deplorable to see such
a condition of things and a slur on England’s good name. As a contrast
we found excellent work both as to numbers and quality by the Chinese,
of whom the C.I.M. have three hundred voluntary workers in their hundred
and sixty-eight stations. Their evangelists give one week per month of
service without payment, and the local institutions pay their salaries.
The Christian Endeavour is a particularly strong branch of the work, and
has produced a body of capable workers, one main object of the society
being to train men, women and children to take part in Christian service
of some kind. Bible schools are another strong point of the work here,
and the interest shown in Bible study augurs well for the future of the
mission.
It may be thought that I have said a great deal—too much in fact—about
mission work in this book, but that is inevitable, because the reforms
initiated in Chinese life are practically all due to missionary activity.
The education of the poor and of women, the care of the sick, the
blind, the insane, were all started by missions, and they are the main
agencies in undertaking relief work in famine and plague measures,
even at the present day. While the people of England sent out thirty
thousand pounds for famine last year, large additional sums were sent
out by the missionary societies, of which there is of course no official
recognition. Happily England still retains some modesty with regard to
her generosity.
My next halting-place was Foochow; this visit was one of the most
delightful events of the trip. The coasting steamers cannot go up the
river, so it is necessary to tranship on to a launch at Pagoda Anchorage.
We had spent more than six hours waiting to cross the bar, and it
was a lovely sight at dawn to see all the myriads of fishing-boats;
as we came slowly up the river they looked like flocks of birds with
widespread wings. It was nine miles up to the city, and as we reached a
stopping-place I inquired from a fellow-passenger if it were the place
for me to get off, but was told the main landing-stage was further up.
Before reaching it a pleasant young Chinaman asked in excellent English
if he could be of service; having heard me mention the C.M.S., said he
belonged to it. He was most helpful, took charge of my luggage, escorted
me to the office where he was employed, telephoned to Trinity College
to say I had arrived, got tea, and finally set me on the road with a
guide. Mr. L. K. Wang certainly was a credit to his school. I met my
kind hostess, Mrs. Norton, on the road to meet me with her servant,
having already sent him down three times that morning to look for me. The
arrival of steamers is a most uncertain business.
Foochow is a treaty port and of no great antiquity: it was founded
in the fourteenth century and was opened to foreign trade in 1861.
The population is reckoned from six to eight hundred thousand, and it
is the headquarters of an ever-increasing number of foreign firms in
consequence of its growing trade. The tea trade is the most important.
The city lies on both banks of the river, and there are two long bridges
called the Bridge of the Ten Thousand Ages connected by a little island,
leading from one part of the city to the other. We took about an hour in
swift-running rickshas to go from the college to the centre of the city
on the further side of the river to visit Miss Faithfull-Davies’ school.
It was just breaking up for the summer holidays, as also Miss Waring’s
girls’ school, which we visited another day; but we saw in full swing
schools for the blind,[29] which seem to be admirably conducted, and an
orphanage, where there was an elaborate plant design in the garden made
by the boys. I asked if it was the name of the school, but was told it
was the date of “the day of shame,” namely of the Japanese triumph; it
is striking to see how deeply this is felt everywhere and that it should
show itself in such a manner.
[Illustration: Storm-Driven Boats.
_Page 209_]
It rained and rained and rained at Foochow, and the floods rose high
round the garden, which is situated on a hill, till we could no longer
go through the main entrance. It was dreadfully disappointing, as it put
all excursions out of the question. However, the days flew past with
great rapidity, and I went on visiting hospitals and schools; the school
of sericulture was interesting, and we saw the various processes. On
leaving, the director paid me the compliment of offering me a handful
of worms! One of the most interesting forms of lacquer work, for which
Foochow is famous, is that done on silk. Bowls are made of it and are as
light as a feather and flexible. They take about eight to twelve months
to make and are wonderfully resistant to water and heat, so that they
can be boiled without injury. Other beautiful lacquer things are made
on finely carved wood, and the lacquer is most lovely in colour when
gold and silver dust are used. They wrap the articles up in the softest,
toughest, thinnest paper I have ever seen; it feels like silk.
It was a matter of continual interest to me to be living in the middle of
a college, and to see the four hundred boys and youths at work and play.
Trinity College is so called because it is part of the Dublin University
Fukien Mission, and was the result of the Pan-Anglican Conference in
London, 1908. The three schools already existed and were combined to form
this college in 1912; a beautiful chapel was also built, a gymnasium,
houses for the masters, and a vernacular middle school in memory of the
martyr, Robert Stewart. The spirit of the place was fine, and I once
again realized how far ahead the mission field is in the spirit of unity
and progress, when the headmaster asked me, woman and Nonconformist, to
address the boys in the chapel: it was an inspiring audience.
I began to be afraid as the floods continued to rise that it would be a
difficult matter to leave Foochow. In order to reach the shipping office
(to take my passage) we had to go through the streets in boats, and
actually through a garden to the window of the office. Boys were having
a great time punting precariously on doors, which served as rafts, and
headlong plunges into the water were greeted with shrieks of laughter. I
left next day, with the water still rising, and was truly sorry to say
good-bye to my friends and Foochow.
The launch took me rapidly down stream to the steamer _Haiching_ which
was due to sail at dawn, and the storm clouds and driving rain formed a
fine background to the encircling mountains. All down the China coast
the scenery is wild, and innumerable rocky islands make navigation very
dangerous. The captain beguiled us at meals with stories of the dangers
we were encountering in this “dirty weather.” When the weather is bad
in the Pacific it alters all the currents round the coast, although
the surface may look smooth. At one point he used to allow a margin
of seven miles to round certain rocks, yet found himself one day just
shaving round them: after that experience he allowed ten miles. The
weather is continually wet and foggy in these seas, but this season was
exceptionally bad, and for the first time in his experience there had
been no cargo from Foochow.
The boat bobbed up and down like a cork. There was a fine mascot on
board in the shape of a black sow. She was very clean and very dainty,
with an appetite for chocolates, and oranges, which she required to
be peeled. She had been five years on board and had gone through the
campaign, when the ship visited Basra and other places on war duty.
The captain was warm in praise of his Chinese crew, preferring them to
all other nationalities: they do their work well and contentedly and
require no bullying. A voyage of twenty-four hours brought us to smooth
water outside Amoy, and the cook from the English Presbyterian ladies’
house came at 6.30 in a sampan to take me ashore, for there is no
landing-stage. It was still raining and very hot.
Amoy is a most extraordinary place, with round black rocks like puddings
in every direction. One of the features of the place is the little
graves, just like plates on the surface of the ground, due to the
curious way they deal with the dead. After they have been buried for a
certain length of time, they take up the coffins and carefully count the
bones that none may be missing and put them in a jar with a lid on: it is
this lid which shows when the jar is put in the earth.
I found my kind hostesses overwhelmed with work, but they nobly made time
to take me to see the various schools and colleges, and also a visiting
missionary took me across the bay to visit some alms-houses (built by a
Chinese lady) and also the first Chinese church built in Amoy. The pastor
took us by a delightful paved pathway to see a noted Buddhist shrine. I
have occasionally met Buddhist present-day saints, but here I saw one in
the making. He is enclosed in a hole in a rock and is locked in, as if
in a cage; once a day his food is brought and we saw a monk unlock the
door and put it in, speaking no word. The embryo saint must never speak.
It takes several years of this stultifying life to attain sainthood. A
much more attractive Buddhist was one of the attendants at the temple, on
whose head I observed the marks of branding. I asked our guide to inquire
how he had endured the torture, and his face quite lighted up as he
replied: “Your Christ felt no suffering on the cross, nor did I for the
joy of winning salvation.”
A charming Chinese secretary, Mr. Wang, showed us over the Y.M.C.A.,
which has the most picturesque building imaginable amongst the black
boulders, to one of which there is a bright red paved causeway. Mr. Wang
took us into the Chamber of Commerce, where we met two Edinburgh trained
engineers who are engaged on a scheme for sanitation and a new road.
Almost every city in China now has a Chamber of Commerce: this is quite
a modern innovation and is a Government concern under the Ministry of
Commerce. Only rich merchants can belong to them because the fees are
so high. They are not very popular among the people because of their
attitude during the student strikes; but they have a certain value for
general trade purposes, although the guilds are much more important.
I had pleasant evenings at our consulate and at the postal
commissioners’, making the acquaintance of the British and American
colony. Their gardens were gay with flowers. But again the rain came
down, and when we visited a Chinese school at Chien Be our day was rather
spoilt by it. Mr. Wang borrowed a little steam launch to take us there,
as it is a considerable distance away. He told us how Mr. Dan had made
a fortune in the Straits Settlements, where he had seen much of the
British and had conceived a desire to imitate their philanthropy. Having
had little education as a boy he decided to build schools and finally a
university on European lines. He was his own architect, and had succeeded
in building spacious and well-planned school house, dormitories, etc.;
he is now putting up a similar school for girls. At present they are
housed in a neighbouring village, while Mr. Dan and his family live in a
cottage in the simplest manner possible. It is really a fine place and
most generously supported in every way. The salaries of teachers are
from twenty-five to thirty-five dollars, whereas in the missions they
receive five dollars. This is one of the new difficulties confronting all
missions: the salaries of their workers must be quadrupled in order to
approach those of Government and other employees.
I left Amoy in pouring rain and had a good little voyage to Swatow on a
most comfortable steamer, reaching it at 6 a.m. Here again one has to
go ashore in a sampan, and the ladies sent their cook in one to fetch
me. The English Presbyterian Mission has charming quarters, their only
drawback being that they are too near the execution ground, and they may
have houses built in front of them. At present they have a lovely view
over the bay. Dr. Heyworth has charge of a nice big women’s hospital,
where there is an admirable Chinese staff of nurses. It is an infinite
pity that there should be so small a European staff—only a man and a
woman apiece for the two hospitals, and they have in addition to train
their own staff. Miss Paton has charge of the girls’ school, and I
must again note how such busy workers found time to give me the most
delightful hospitality. Of course there are European hotels in Amoy,
Swatow and Foochow, etc., for there is an ever-increasing number of
foreign merchants in these cities, but I have had the good fortune to
stay with missionary friends, so cannot speak of the hotels from personal
experience. It makes travelling for foreigners, however, much simpler
than it used to be, and a trip along the China coast is a delightful one,
for the scenery is most beautiful and there are all kinds of interesting
places to visit—when it does not rain!
Dr. Heyworth took me for an excursion by rail up to the town of Chao
Chow, stopping on the way to visit a Chinese family, who have beautiful
ancestral halls and some of the finest modern stone carvings in the
architecture of these buildings. The stone is green, and the effect of
the carving is heightened by cunning touches of green and gold paint.
We went by chair across the ricefields from the railway to the village,
about two miles distant. The rice was being hastily cleared from the
stone threshing floors where it had been husked, on account of a lowering
sky, and the village was humming like a busy hive of bees. Mr. Tan and
a cousin met us on his threshold, and it was a revelation to see this
perfect type of a Chinese country house. The restrained beauty of detail
was great; for instance, a large courtyard had an orange curtain as a
canopy, casting a subdued golden light over the tall earthenware tubs,
from which stately lotus blossoms and leaves reared themselves. The
ancestral shrine faced this courtyard and the tablets were of choicest
lacquer, surrounded by handsomely carved furniture. Mr. Tan’s grandfather
built this family shrine, and it took ten skilled sculptors thirty years
to accomplish it. There were bronzes and a wealth of artistic things
reflected in the marble floors, the only jarring note being the European
lamps and chandeliers. After being introduced to the ladies of the family
we were taken to call at two houses, where we made the acquaintance of
other members of the family. The most noticeable feature of these houses
were the porcelain decorations of the roofs. All sorts of blossoms, rose
and white and other colours, stood out in delicate tracery against the
sky. These porcelain decorations are a speciality of southern Chinese
art, and on the ancestral temple at Canton are most elaborate groups of
figures and even landscapes. Panels of open-work pottery are let into the
walls.
Mr. Tan took us to see a school supported by his family where a hundred
bright smart-looking boys were hard at work. He has a large business in
Singapore, and it is a curious fact that from Swatow and district goes
forth a continuous stream of colonists to the Straits Settlements, Hong
Kong and elsewhere. They always return with accumulated wealth. Swatow
itself is the fifth largest trading port of China, and has a population
of some ten millions behind it, for which it is the natural outlet.
Mr. Tan took leave of us at the Baptist Chapel, where we received a
very friendly welcome. The Southern American Baptists have a great
many village stations and about fifty workers, not counting the
Chinese staff—a great contrast to our English missions! They do mainly
educational and evangelistic, also some medical work. In Swatow they
have a hopeful field for social service, but as they live on the further
side of the bay I had not time to go across to see their fine buildings,
schools, hospital, etc.; they propose building a big church in Swatow.
The American Government has established cinema lecture courses for
Chinese communities, and they get the missionaries to use them in order
to make known American trade and commerce, and American life in general.
We returned by chair to the railway and were met at Chao Chowfu by Dr.
Wight. It is a station of the English Presbyterian Mission, but he
was the sole European representative there at the time. No doubt the
Chinese workers are thereby obliged to take more responsibility and work
than would otherwise be the case, but really it is too hard on the one
Englishman, and how can a hospital be satisfactorily run on such lines?
There was a severe earthquake some years ago which brought the church
and hospital buildings to the ground, but happily all the patients
were rescued in time. We saw over the new hospital, which seemed well
planned and in good working order. The city needs such a hospital, and
one regretted to see the American Mission Colony across the river, so far
away from the busy haunts of men. The bridge was as fascinating as it was
curious—large masonry piers, with stones reaching from one to the other
some fifteen to eighteen feet long. Shops ply a busy trade on the piers
and a big shady tree grows out of one of them. In the centre of the Han
River there is a wide bridge of swaying boats connected on either side by
a stone stairway with the adjacent piers. On the river we noticed most
picturesque boats with threefold sails; these belong to the Hakka people,
an indigenous race, quite different from the Chinese, who live further
inland.
The streets of the town are most attractive, full of amusing shops, and
we noticed that private houses had little doorways for their dogs: some
of these had suspended doors, so that the dogs could push their way in.
As there is a population of some three or four hundred thousand in Chao
Chowfu, with a hundred and eighty villages in the adjacent district, it
is a busy place; and there are sixty to seventy schools in it. One most
interesting Buddhist temple we visited, in which a stone monument has
been put up by the city in honour of Dr. Ross and Mr. James for their
work during a cholera epidemic.
We returned next day to Swatow, where the guide-book tells you there is
nothing to see. On the contrary, I found a great deal to see under Dr.
Whyte’s guidance. A temple was being redecorated with beautiful paintings
of most delicate and imaginative workmanship all along its walls. The
tireless skill and industry of the artists filled me with envy. The
trades of the place were fascinating; as for instance the soldering of
pans with holes in them. The mender has his boiling metal in a portable
heater and handles it with a glove, dabbing little patches round the
hole till it is filled up. While watching with absorbed interest I felt
a stealthy hand taking a few stray cash out of my pocket, but the thief
was so inexperienced that when I caught his hand he dropped the cash
into mine! Another interesting but rather hot sight was the blowing of
glass lamp-chimneys. Yet another less pleasing industry was the canning
of lychees; about a hundred dirty little girls are employed in it. I
will draw a veil over this, or no one would eat the delicacy, which I
had greatly enjoyed up to that time. A vision of Tiptree flashed across
my mind: it would be a beautiful thing to have Tiptree in China. The
fruits at Swatow are so lovely: to see the stalls piled up with pomeloes,
pineapples, peaches, lychees, bananas, dragon’s eyes and other fruit make
one’s mouth water. Equally beautiful—though horrible in smell—are the
fish stalls, but here the names are quite beyond me.
One afternoon we had an amusing ride through the ricefields, where the
process of harvesting was in full swing. The vehicle for such travel is
a comfortable wicker chair to hold two persons (first class), or four
(second class) in a less comfortable chair. The chairs are on runners, on
a light railway line; they are pushed by swift coolies, so that they go
at a good pace. Extra cash = express speed!
We met a few missionaries here on their way for a summer holiday to a
health resort, but it takes time and money to reach any such place, and
travelling up-country here seems very fatiguing, especially with slender
means. I regretfully parted from the congenial group of missionaries who
had conspired to give me such a pleasant time, and set off with several
ladies for Hong Kong.