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LIFE AND SPORT IN CHINA
LIFE AND SPORT
IN CHINA
BY
OLIVER G. READY, B.A.
_SECOND EDITION_
LONDON
CHAPMAN & HALL, LIMITED
1904
[Illustration: PAGODA, NEAR HANKOW.
_Frontispiece._]
AUTHOR'S NOTE
The British public is greatly handicapped in forming an intelligent
appreciation of happenings in China by a lack of that initial
experience which can only be gained by residence in the country.
In this little work I have endeavoured to place before readers a
sketch of things as I saw them, and to convey to their minds an idea
of how Europeans live there, of their amusements, of their work, and
of those things which are matters of daily interest to them, so that
my book may serve as a kind of preface to that enthralling volume, the
current history of China, as it is daily revealed in the press, in
magazines and in learned works.
While confining myself herein to the lighter side of narrative, I am
not unconscious of those intricate problems and deep studies connected
with the Far East, but to which profound research and matured judgment
must be applied, though information thereon, even when collected and
published, would appeal mostly to the narrow circle of experts on
matters Chinese.
The vast Empire of China with its hundreds of millions of toiling
slaves, with its old, old civilisation reaching back for untold years
prior to the dawn of history in the West, with its manners and
customs so worn into the national character that they almost form the
character itself, with its fertile plains, its sandy deserts, its
lofty mountains, its mighty rivers, its torrid heat and arctic cold,
its devastating floods, its cruel famines and loathsome epidemics,
represents a _mass_, the contemplation of which staggers the mind and
makes one ask, "What is Europe trying to do here? Does she hope to
conquer, to change or to purify?"
After a residence of twelve years in various parts of the country I
instinctively feel that while military occupation by the Great Powers
may be possible, not only is China in a sense unconquerable, but that
she is eminently a conquering nation, though not by clash of arms.
Insidiously, remorselessly and viciously she will subdue apostles of
the West who are sent to her, and unless persistently restrained will
overflow into adjacent lands and conquer there by cheap labour and
unremitting toil.
For the photographs I am indebted to the generosity of Mrs T. Child,
as well as to T.T.H. Ferguson, A.J.E. Allen, Carlos Cabral and the
late H. Hall, Esquires.
CONTENTS
CHAP. PAGE
I. ANGLO-CHINESE LIFE 1
II. SERVANTS AND TRADESMEN 26
III. SHOOTING 46
IV. RIDING 73
V. SAILING 96
VI. JAMBOREES 119
VII. AROUND PEKING 139
VIII. HERE AND THERE 169
IX. THE MARRIAGE TIE 197
X. DISCUSSED POINTS: PEOPLE, LANGUAGE, MISSIONARIES, CHANCES 212
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
PHOTO BY
PAGODA NEAR HANKOW H. HALL _Frontispiece_
THE BRITISH CONCESSION, HANKOW _Chinese_ _To face page_ 3
HOUSE-COOLIE, BOY, COOK,
AND "NO. 2." T.T.H. FERGUSON " 37
HOUSE-BOAT ON THE YANGTSE A.J.E. ALLEN " 50
THE CAB OF NORTHERN CHINA A.J.E. ALLEN " 75
THE OLD GRAND-STAND, HANKOW
RACES, 1888 _Chinese_ " 87
FOOCHOW JUNK, SHOWING EYE T.T.H. FERGUSON " 98
PLAYING FANTAN IN PRIVATE HOUSE CARLOS CABRAL " 133
THE GREAT WALL OF CHINA T.T.H. FERGUSON " 158
AVENUE OF STONE FIGURES, MING
TOMBS T.T.H. FERGUSON " 161
A TYPICAL FARM-HOUSE H. HALL " 177
FISHING-JUNKS IN MACAO HARBOUR
AT CHINESE NEW YEAR CARLOS CABRAL " 189
BUDDHIST PRIEST AND ACOLYTE
HOLDING BOOK T. CHILD " 228
VOCABULARY
=Bund.= The embankment or quay of a concession.
=Concession.= A strip of land conceded by China to another Power
exclusively for the residences of foreigners.
=Camoens.= Portuguese poet who wrote the Luciad at Macao.
=Chit.= Any letter or note, also an I.O.U.
=Chop chop.= Quickly. Hurry up.
=Compradore.= Chinese agent or partner.
=Coolie.= Chinese labourer.
=Cumshaw.= A tip or present.
=European.= In China this word is equally applicable to
Americans.
=Foreigner.= European or American in China.
=Gingall.= Heavy muzzle-loading musket requiring two men to
carry and fire it.
=Han, Children of.= Chinese.
=Kowtow.= To make obeisance by striking the head on the ground.
=Lowdah.= Sailing-master.
=Mafoo.= Groom.
=Native.= Chinese.
=Out-port.= Any treaty port except Shanghai, and Hongkong.
=Papico.= Junk from Ningpo, shaped aft like a duck.
=Pow.= To gallop.
=Praia Grande.= Esplanade facing sea.
=Pumelo.= A coarse fruit resembling an enormous orange.
=Punkah.= Large fan suspended from ceiling for ventilating
room.
=Ricksha.= Small gig drawn by a coolie, who plies it for hire.
=Runner.= Official underling. Police agent.
=Sai.= Here I am. A word used by servants combining Sir and
_Lai_, to come.
=Samli.= A fish resembling salmon.
=Sampan.= Small native boat.
=Samshu.= Spirit distilled from rice or millet.
=Settlement.= Where Europeans have settled on a limited strip of
Chinese territory.
=Shroff.= Chinese accountant, cashier and banker.
=Squeeze.= Recognised cheating.
=Sycee Shoes.= Rough lumps of silver cast in shape of
China-woman's small shoe or of half-globe.
=Tiffin.= Luncheon.
=Treaty-port.= Any port opened by treaty to foreign trade.
=Waler.= Horse from New South Wales.
=Westerner.= European or American.
=Yamen.= Official building.
=Yulow.= A scull worked over the stern.
=Zacousca.= Russian appetiser or snack taken before meals.
Life and Sport in China
CHAPTER I
ANGLO-CHINESE LIFE
Anglo-Chinese life is a sealed book to most people at home, who, if
they ever think about it at all, do so with minds adversely biassed by
ignorance of the conditions, a hazy idea of intense heat, and a
remembrance of cruel massacres.
"Going to China" always elicits looks and exclamations of astonishment
at so rash an undertaking, but which the stock questions as to whether
we eat with chopsticks, whether it is not always unbearably hot, and
whether we like the Chinese, explain as disquietude arising from the
idea of encountering "evils that we know not of."
Our early business relations with the Chinese were conducted at
Canton, to which port opium in particular was shipped direct from
India, but owing to the hostility of Chinese officials towards British
merchants and the legitimate expansion of their trade, quarrels were
frequent, culminating in the so-called Opium War of 1840-42, resulting
in the acquisition by us of the small, barren island of Hongkong, and
the opening to foreign trade of five ports, including Canton and
Shanghai, at all of which small plots of land some half a mile square
were set apart for the exclusive residence of foreigners generally but
of Englishmen in particular. Disputes, however, did not cease, so that
twenty years later England and France in co-operation, attacked China,
and wrung from her the right of foreign ministers accredited to the
Chinese court to reside at Peking, and also that additional ports
should be opened to foreign trade, with a plot of land at each for
residential purposes.
The treaties following on these two wars have since been supplemented
by other treaties opening still more ports, at some of which also
adjoining plots of land have likewise been conceded, and our position
in China to-day is founded on the accumulated result of these various
agreements, which, above all things, guarantee us exterritoriality or
exemption from Chinese jurisdiction, so that Europeans for whatever
misdemeanours, are amenable only to their own consuls.
[Illustration: THE BRITISH CONCESSION, HANKOW.
_To face page 3._]
There are now about thirty treaty-ports, most of them having these
residential plots or concessions some of which, however, have never
been taken up and built on, but where they have been, although
leased from the Chinese Government at nominal rents, they are to all
intents and purposes little detached portions of the British Empire,
kept scrupulously clean and in perfect order, where natives are not
allowed to dwell, but where Europeans of all nationalities live in
security and comfort.
In each of them resides a British consul, who represents his
Government _vis-a-vis_ the Chinese and foreign officials, and who
holds the position of magistrate in relation to his own nationals. An
English doctor also is generally in practice at all, except the very
smallest, ports.
In many instances walls have been built round these concessions, the
gateways in which can be bolted and barred at night to keep out the
natives, a good system of drainage introduced, wide roads laid out and
lighted, public seats placed in pleasant spots facing the water, trees
planted, palatial houses built with gardens attached, a church
constructed, clubs founded, billiard-tables and other insignia of
Western luxury imported, a municipal council elected for managing
local affairs, and a force of native police or Indian Sikhs raised,
with which, under English superintendents, to maintain order in our
streets.
Other countries, notably France, have similar settlements, though far
less numerous, but I shall herein refer exclusively to our own.
Off the frontage or _bund_ is frequently moored a line of hulks
connected with the shore by pontoons, and which in their day were
probably the finest ocean liners afloat, but now, worn out and
dismantled, serve as floating warehouses, alongside which steamers
come to discharge and load cargo. At other places vessels drop anchor
in mid-stream, while between them and the various jetties large cargo
boats constantly pass to and fro laden with merchandise, to be quickly
shipped or landed by gangs of chattering coolies.
Everywhere the foreshore is always crowded with a fleet of native
junks, displaying half mast be it a bundle of wood, a rice measure or
a coal scoop, to show that their cargoes consisting of wood, rice,
coal, etc., are for sale.
Either just on the concession, by permission of the consul, or in
Chinatown immediately outside, are two or three general stores and
butchers' shops, run by either Chinese, Parsees or Japanese,
especially to supply the foreign community with groceries, bread, meat
and other daily requisites.
No one carries money in his pocket, for the Europeans being but few in
number are well known by sight, and any purchase is made by signing an
I.O.U., or _chit_, for the amount necessary in dollars or cents. At
the club you call for say two sherries and one bamboo (half sherry,
half vermouth) and the waiter brings them, together with a small
chit-book in which he has already written down your order in pencil,
and this, after inspection, you simply sign or initial, when it is
torn out and dropped into the till and you see no more of it until the
end of the month, when your club bill comes in, supported by all the
chits you have signed.
For the offertory, pencils and pieces of paper are distributed about
the church, so that the congregation may easily write chits, which are
folded up and dropped into the bag, to be presented at your house next
day by the church coolie for payment. This system, though very
convenient, is apt to prove something of a trap, for signing a chit is
so much easier, and the amount appears to be so much less than if
paying in hard cash, that when the monthly total is made up you are at
first inclined to believe there must be some mistake; but alas!
careful verification too plainly shows that you have signed for more
than you had any idea of.
Amongst Europeans the currency employed is the silver dollar, now
worth about one shilling and sevenpence though formerly rated at five
shillings, together with a subsidiary coinage of fifty, twenty, ten
and five-cent silver pieces, as well as coppers of one and two cents
each.
The Chinese standard of value in universal use throughout the Empire
is copper cash. A cash is about the size of a shilling and equivalent
to one eighth of a farthing in value. Through the centre of each coin
is a square hole large enough to admit a thick string. It is usual to
thread cash, first into bundles of one hundred, each bundle being
about the size and shape of a sausage, and then for ten bundles to be
strung together in pairs, so that the full string of a thousand cash
almost exactly corresponds to a double string of ten sausages. The
value of this full string is about half-a-crown, and owing to its
great weight is usually carried slung over the shoulder.
The _tael_, pronounced tale, is not a coin at all, but means simply an
ounce (of silver). There are many kinds of taels, each of a different
value according to the purity or _touch_ of the silver, which is
chiefly determined by the locality in which the metal is mined.
When a Chinaman sells native produce to a European he always keeps in
mind its value in cash, and wants a corresponding value in dollars or
taels, whatever the price of silver may happen to be. The same with
wages of all kinds; the amount required in each case is based on what
each individual requires in cash.
The whole monetary system, or rather lack of system, complicated by
numberless local banks, each with its own issue of paper money, is so
bewildering that European householders seldom bother about anything
beyond dollars and cents, to which standard, for their especial
benefit, all others are reduced, though always at a certain loss in
the exchange.
Some of these concessions, which are in reality little English towns,
have greatly prospered since their inauguration and are now centres of
voluminous and increasing trade; but others, belying their initial
prosperity, have stagnated, and appear to be gradually slipping back
to the Chinese, who, in contravention of treaty ordinances, have been
allowed to acquire property on them and reside there in
rapidly-increasing numbers.
The thriving settlement of Shanghai, which is situated near the mouth
of the River Yangtse, and which possesses a foreign population of six
or seven thousand, may be considered the metropolis of other
treaty-ports in the northern half of the Empire, or, as they are
generally called, "out-ports"; while the British colony of Hongkong
stands in the same relation to out-ports in the south.
Hongkong has now no connection whatever with China, being entirely a
British possession, and has been converted from a barren rock to a
most lovely, thriving and important commercial town and naval base,
and is the greatest triumph of British enterprise and material
civilisation that I know of.
Nearly all these out-ports are in telegraphic communication with
either Shanghai or Hongkong, and through them with the outside world,
while the postal service is conducted by means of coast and river
steamers which, plying regularly with passengers and cargo, have bases
in these two emporiums, so that in whatever port you reside your
thoughts and your interests are daily and directly concerned with
either one or the other. From them come the daily newspapers,
arriving, maybe, several days after date of issue, but still fresh
reading for those in distant places. From them come the gun-boats
which, besides protection, bring the welcome society of jovial naval
men, and from them come commercial travellers with assortments of
hats, boots, guns, clothes and other necessaries; while to them we go
to embark for home, or, when in need of a social holiday, to chip off
the rust of out-port seclusion, until eventually we look to them for
many of our creature comforts, and through them, as through a window,
to the world beyond.
Existence at both Shanghai and Hongkong is surrounded with so many
Western accessories in the shape of good houses, electric light,
excellent roads, horses and carriages, bands in public gardens and
hourly telegrams, that life at an out-port, while at times very
monotonous, is frequently more interesting, for there, being less
overshadowed by the pleasure of foreign society, you may come into
closer touch with things Chinese, so that if the study of a people the
most antiquated and wonderful under the sun has attractions for any,
this, together with the many facilities for the enjoyment of sport and
outdoor life, should be sufficient to bring occasional contentment to
even the most despondent.
From the extreme north to the extreme south, and from the sea to the
mean west, that is, along the coast line and up the River Yangtse for
fourteen hundred miles to Chungking, these nests of British enterprise
adhere like barnacles to China's stolid bulk, dominating her vast
trade with other countries, appearing as bright oases in the desert of
Eastern heathendom and unfriendliness, and ranging in numerical
importance from say thirty to five hundred Europeans, in accordance
with the amount of shipping which flows through them and is their very
life-blood.
Much depends on the residents themselves whether social life in these
miniature colonies is to be very pleasant or only a deadly monotony.
Nearly every man who comes out from home has been selected from among
his fellows for some particular superiority. Either he is smart in
business, has health and physique to withstand the extremes of climate
to which he may be subjected, is clever and has gained his appointment
in competitive examination, or he may have all these qualities
combined; anyhow, he is a picked man, above the average all round, and
as such has a corresponding force of character.
A number of such men being thrown together in a small place either
co-operate and become fast friends, their wives and children, if they
have any, following suit, when existence is rendered charming, or, on
the other hand, with their marked individualities and business
rivalries they may quarrel, in which case the best thing is to forego
all hopes of social pleasures and wrap yourself up in your own
content. A quarrelsome port provides an amusing study for a short
time, but after that, especially during the depressing dampness of the
rainy season when it is too wet to go out, life becomes very
monotonous and irritating, for the space being so limited you are
continually brought face to face with people who are on bad terms and
who try to attach you to their side. Trivial jealousies, mythical
slights and insignificant nothings which would pass unnoticed in a
larger world here assume such alarming proportions that the club
languishes owing to numerous resignations, few attend church because
one of the rival faction plays the organ, and the evening promenade
beneath the trees along the bund is transformed from a pleasant family
gathering into a funereal procession.
In pleasing contrast is a _nice_ port, where people pull together,
where good-fellowship and hospitality make one feel like the member of
a large family, where you walk into the house of your neighbour, smoke
his cigars and drink his whisky, brought to you while reclining in a
long chair on the verandah with the punkah swinging lazily over you,
waiting for the master's return. This is done with the pleasurable
knowledge that your friend would naturally instal himself in your
house under like circumstances. Here is real charm. Think, too, of the
outdoor life, of those lovely evenings when the air is soft and warm,
the moon at full and of a size never seen in England, when a party of
us would sail out on the lake, drop anchor and dine in the cool
breeze, and after cigars and coffee would sail on again, singing songs
that carried us back to days of yore and bringing a sad yet sweet
strain into thoughts and voices as we glided over the moonlit waters.
Spring and autumn bring the two great events of the year--the races.
Many ports have a capital race-course, which is always circular in
shape, enclosing what are generally the grounds of the recreation
club, while almost every sporting man trains a pony or two, which he
frets and fumes over in a style that would not bemean a Newmarket turf
magnate. Weeks before the meeting, increasing in intensity as the time
shortens and decreasing slowly as the event recedes, the talk is
purely of ponies, ponies, ponies--until the non-racing man droops and
turns away, but without daring to utter one single word of protest
against the prevailing epidemic of pony talk. Race lotteries at the
club afford great excitement to the betting men, when the knowing ones
make books which in the end leave them considerably to the bad, while
those who know nothing rejoice with the joy of fools, thinking that to
their own perspicuity is due the roll of dollars which wanton luck has
thrust upon them.
On the actual race days, of which there are generally two, with a
third or off-day tacked on, things reach a climax. All business is
curtailed or altogether suspended. Everyone wears colours, either his
own or those of a friend, and at eleven o'clock the ladies are driven
to the course in state by happy owners of various nondescript vehicles
furbished up for the occasion. Everyone knows everyone else, the names
of ponies entered have been household words for weeks, while their
supposed merits are open secrets, the jockeys are personal friends,
the weather is bright and warm, the ladies wear their smartest
dresses, the course is kept and order maintained with the aid of
bluejackets from the gun-boat in port, while her drum and fife band or
nigger troupe renders selections of varied merits. A race over, the
successful owner and jockey are seized and carried shoulder high to
the bar behind the grand-stand, where winners and losers alike have
preceded them to secure a glass of champagne at the owner's expense,
with which to drink his health and show a befitting sense of joy at
the victory which has just been achieved.
An excellent champagne lunch is served in the grand-stand, and
presided over by the clerk of the course, who, by virtue of his
exalted office, ranks high in the community, when suitable toasts are
proposed and cordially honoured, followed by an adjournment to the
paddock for a stroll and a smoke, after which attention is again
claimed for the business of the afternoon's racing.
Riding is usually well to the fore, and on an afternoon parties of
ladies with attendant cavaliers trot down the reach by the river and
gallop home across the plain, or wend along the beach, walking their
ponies in the salt water.
For the sportsman game in abundance generally lies within reach, and
nothing of its kind is more delightful than an afternoon with the
spring snipe, or a shooting trip of a few days in company with a
kindred spirit.
Tennis is still a favourite amusement during summer months, and
garden-parties, comprising almost the whole community, meet
frequently, be it on the club grounds or at private houses, when those
who do not play come to watch and chat while partaking of ices and
other refreshments, or smoking peacefully in the cool shade of leafy
trees.
In many places there are good turf courts, but at others, where grass
will not grow sufficiently well to be of any practical value, recourse
is had to either cement or cinders.
Chinese lads in neat cotton uniforms are always in attendance to field
the balls, which they do remarkably well, thereby adding greatly to
one's enjoyment of the game.
Golf has of late years come greatly into prominence, a frequent place
for the links being on the recreation ground enclosed by the
race-track, for which reason it is generally the case that they are
too flat to afford much variety of play, although near to Macao there
are some very rough links which, from the natural advantages and
lovely scenery, could be made almost ideal.
Our club there consisted of six members when at its zenith, and
occasionally two in times of dearth. We had three miles to bicycle
out, and part of the way over a fearful stone road through nauseous
burial-grounds, but once there, a round or two in cool, fresh air,
amongst the hills and pines, overlooking both sea and river, amply
repaid one for the toilsome journey.
Of rowing there is very little, except at Shanghai and Hongkong, where
there are large and flourishing clubs.
Hongkong being on the sea it is not practicable to use light ships,
which, of course, is a great drawback.
At Shanghai there is the harbour and also a small creek about the size
of the Cam, both of which afford ample facilities. The club has two
excellent boathouses and plenty of boats, and is composed of the
finest material possible, all the best men in Shanghai, as is ever the
case elsewhere, going in for rowing at one time or another; but the
rowing is not first-class, and unless things have greatly changed
since I was an active member, a crew capable of sitting a light cedar
ship could not be mustered, all the racing being done in clinker
boats.
The reason for this lack of watermanship is partly due to the
difficulty in coaching otherwise than from the stern of a boat, there
being no towing path on which the coach can ride or run alongside his
men, as is done at Oxford or Cambridge, while the hire of launches is
too expensive. Also, part of the reason is due to beginners being
seldom taken out and coached in tubs by expert senior men who have
had the benefit of a professional or scientific training, but are put
into a bad four and left to develop themselves as best they may. It
would well repay the club to have a path made alongside the creek and
to get a professional out from home for a year or two to initiate a
high-class style, after which the traditions, once firmly established,
would pass down naturally to succeeding generations of oarsmen.
The coxing is on a par with the rowing. I have seen a length lost at a
corner, the rate of striking reduced by ten a minute and the crew
badly pulled to pieces, through the rudder being hard on when the oars
were in the water.
After all, skill in rowing is but a question of degree and of no vital
importance in a place so isolated from other rowing centres as is
Shanghai, while the club is certainly one of the best to get into on
arriving there, especially for youths, as plenty of good, open-air
exercise can thus be obtained in the society of strong, healthy-minded
men.
If hills or mountains be within easy distance bungalows are there
built, to which most ladies and children retire for the hot weather,
the men snatching hasty visits when business allows them to leave the
settlement. At one place down south such bungalows are built on a tiny
island four or five miles out at sea, and there it is never very hot,
while in the evenings it is delightful to bathe, stroll along the
sands, or sit with the pilot on watch up by the old ruined fort, where
you can see rays from the lighthouses flashing far, far across the
waves, watch the lights of steamers as they pass beneath and listen to
the cadenced throbbing of their screws. For those residing in Central
China a sanatorium has lately sprung up near Kiukiang, at Kuling, a
valley some 4,000 feet above sea-level in the Lushan mountains, which
overlook the Yangtse on one side and the Poyang lake on the other.
This valley was unknown to Europeans a few years ago, but has now the
appearance of a country town, there being probably a hundred and fifty
well-appointed bungalows strongly built of stone quarried on the spot,
a church, shops, laundry and a network of roads and paths.
When feeling run down after a long spell of intense heat in the
plains, a trip to this resort is most refreshing, for there it is
always cool enough to wear light tweeds during the day and to sleep
under a blanket at night. The mountain rambles are lovely, be it over
the lofty peaks, through the trees and scrub in the valleys or along
the bed of a stream, where frequent pools of running, crystal water
afford good bathing or a little fishing for those addicted to the
gentle art.
Never shall I forget one glorious day when, accompanying two friends,
we crossed to a far side of the range and looked down on the Poyang
lake. The view was magnificent, and on our return journey the setting
sun flashed every imaginable hue on the mists rolling close above our
heads, on the landscape changing as we moved, on mountain crags and on
the lake, unfolding at each turn dissolving scenes of surpassing
loveliness.
On arrival at Kiukiang by steamer you hire a chair with four bearers
for the ten or twelve miles' journey up the mountains, with additional
coolies to carry your luggage. For half the distance you follow
ordinary country roads, but during the last few miles the path, though
well constructed, is very steep in some places, while in others it
overhangs yawning valleys, where you instinctively grip the sides of
your chair and fervently hope the bearers will not trip.
In the north, Chefoo, Wei-hai-wei and Pei-tai-ho attract a goodly
number of visitors to the seaside during summer months, while others
desiring greater change sail to earth's fairyland, Japan, or even make
the voyage to Canada and back.
We dance whenever and wherever we can. The houses being generally
large, with fine rooms often but lightly furnished on account of the
summer heat or our own nomadic habits, and servants being both
plentiful and willing, the giving of a dance presents no great
difficulties.
It is a common thing at a dinner-party of twelve or fourteen to have
the drawing-room cleared during dinner, so that with the help of a few
more friends who come in afterwards, the evening's entertainment can
be pleasantly varied with a few dances.
I was once at a small port where for a long time there had been only
one lady, who was naturally regarded as the belle of the place.
Presently a rival appeared, and with her two pretty, unmarried
sisters; whereon my messmates and I forthwith gave an impromptu dance.
We cleared our dining-room for the occasion, but found the carpet to
be so old and so tightly nailed down that it would not bear removing,
and we decided to dance on it.
No sooner, however, had we commenced to the strains of an accordion,
not having a piano, than the floor, which was laid on round joists
over the entrance hall, began to vibrate so violently that glasses on
the sideboard were smashed and ornaments fell from the walls, while
dust from the carpet, which evidently had not been beaten for years,
rose in such clouds that, coupled with the heat of a stifling night,
we were literally choked off and obliged to take refuge in the garden.
Fortunately it was a beautiful night and full moon, so we diverted our
dance to a game of hide-and-seek, and a merrier evening I have seldom
spent.
The annual out-port subscription ball keeps everyone in a ferment for
weeks. Owing to the cosmopolitan nature of the community due care must
be taken that the various nationalities are represented on the
committee, to avoid giving offence.
Then the committee has to decide, amongst other things, who are to be
invited and who not, and it invariably happens that some are for
including all, irrespective of station, while others desire to draw
the line after what they consider to be the _elite_. In either case
there is bound to be a certain amount of friction, which at times
rises to a very heated pitch.
One of the leading ladies superintends the decoration of the ballroom,
another is responsible for the supper, while another sees that the
floor is properly waxed and arranges for the piano, as the music is
provided by leading amateurs, there being no band.
After endless discussion and elaborate preparation the important night
arrives, when the guests assemble, frequently with strained feelings
but with a fixed determination to enjoy the passing hour.
Men are largely in the majority, so that ladies of all ages, ranging
say from fourteen to forty, are requested as a favour to dance, and
are assured beforehand of a full programme.
Those men who cannot get partners, or do not care to dance, spend the
evening between cards and occasional visits to the ballroom to watch.
The supper is always very good and not hurried through with that undue
haste so noticeable at home. The assembly, being considerably leavened
with people who are, to say the least, well out of their teens, makes
itself comfortable for an hour or more, doing ample justice to the
delicacies provided; indeed, after the ladies have all departed,
bachelors and wayward husbands usually return to the attack once, and
even twice, so that it is not uncommon to hear an incoherent "For he's
a jolly good fellow" from a belated band of revellers returning home
shortly before daylight.
At Peking, Hongkong and Shanghai dances and balls are very frequent
and carried out on a scale comparable with that of similar festivities
at home.
The club is always a popular institution, where the male element of
the community, frequently representing many nationalities, gathers for
a game of billiards and a chat, and where the home and local papers,
together with a fair number of books and magazines, are to be found.
One evening during the tea season, just before dinner, I counted at
one time fourteen nationalities in the bar of the Hankow Club.
I like those friendly gatherings at the round table, when sport and
other topics of our limited world are discussed, and when one
generally manages to give or to receive an invitation to pot-luck,
with a rubber or a gentle poker flutter to follow.
There, too, is sometimes an American bowling alley, where on cold
nights, or hot, for the matter of that, we roll huge wooden balls down
a raised track for twenty yards, to scatter nine pins at the bottom.
There are two parallel tracks and we make up two bowling parties of
three or four aside, the losers to pay for the game and provide
refreshments all round.
China is so enormous in extent that it embraces almost every variety
of climate, though, speaking generally, the summer is everywhere very
warm, while the winter, from being almost of arctic severity in the
northern provinces, where the sea is frozen and all navigation stopped
for six weeks or two months, gradually becomes milder in lower
latitudes, until snow and frost are seldom experienced, and finally
never seen in the sub-tropical region of the extreme south. Many years
ago snow fell at Canton and the astonished natives are said to have
collected it in bottles to keep, believing that it was a kind of
cotton.
In the Yangtse valley during July, August and September, the heat at
times is well-nigh intolerable both by day and night. You arise in the
morning played out after a comfortless night under a punkah, which,
hung over your bed in the limited space of a mosquito house, is
pulled with a rope passing through the wall by a coolie stationed on
the verandah outside. With the thermometer standing at ninety degrees
in your bedroom you frame the mental query "Can I last through the
day?" as you crawl on to the verandah in pyjamas wet through with
perspiration, to watch the sun rise, hoping, but in vain, for a breath
of air. The insects buzz, a scorched smell pervades everywhere, the
birds hop listlessly about, gasping with wide-open bills, the fans of
coolies who have been sleeping on the grass, beat with hollow flap,
the sun rises like a furnace, and you must retreat again to the shadow
of your room to avoid sunstroke.
As the day advances the temperature creeps up until it is over a
hundred and you feel your eyes dry and heavy in their sockets, with a
throbbing in your ears, when for full-blooded people of any age it
becomes highly dangerous, death by heat apoplexy being painfully
common.
In the evening, after dinner, long chairs are taken out on the bund
and many assemble there in silence, betrayed only in the darkness by a
continual popping of corks and glowing cigar-tips, to catch what
little air there may chance to be, and to watch the lightning in hopes
that the oft-threatened storm will burst and break the heat.
I remember at Kiukiang the daily temperature rising to over a hundred
degrees in the shade for nearly three weeks at a stretch, culminating
in one hundred and seven, when a break came which, at any rate, saved
_my_ life and practically ended the summer.
Many a time, when too hot for sleep, have I played whist till three
o'clock in the morning. Selecting the corner of an upstairs verandah
where there might be some possibility of a faint draught, and having
cigars, whisky and iced soda well within reach, we would take off our
white jackets for greater coolness and sit perspiring in singlets
round the table between guttering candles, when with bare heads and
naked arms we must have had the appearance of desperate gamblers,
though only playing the regulation twenty-five cent points with longs
and shorts and a dollar on the rub, so that the damage could not be
very extensive.
The winter in this locality is very much on a par with that in
England, only shorter, there being generally some frost with a good
deal of snow and occasionally enough ice for skating.
Dinner-parties are very numerous, being the chief method of
entertainment. The _menu_ is, as a rule, excellent, and the import
duty being almost nominal, wine is both plentiful and good.
After a few mental twinges endured by leading personages consequent on
somewhat exaggerated ideas of precedence, the company is seated, and
a good dinner, aided by a lively flow of chit-chat, makes the evening
speed pleasantly and well.
But, you will ask, what besides amusing themselves have these
Anglo-Chinese to do? British steamers swarm throughout the China seas
and up the Yangtse for a thousand miles to Ichang, and it is in
controlling the working of these vessels, in importing and selling
manufactured goods and opium, in buying and exporting tea, silk and
other products of the country, as well as in filling positions in
Government services or any professional calling that agents,
merchants, officials and the professional classes find employment, so
that if in exile we surround ourselves with such luxuries and
enjoyments as are reserved for the wealthy at home it is because they
are ready to hand at but little cost, and that they serve in a degree
to compensate us for the sweet pleasures of home-life which are
forfeited by those who leave Old England to push their ways in distant
lands.