We anchored in Macao roads about mid-day, perhaps on the very spot,
where a sailor’s malice fired a magazine, and blew high in air, with
a noise like thunder, the atoms that composed the Portuguese frigate
_Donna Maria_, some years before. Macao, though in, is not of China;
instead of the low hut-like structures of unburnt blue brick and
fantastic tile of the Celestial, the eye, as it takes in the fine sweep
of the Praya, rests on large mansions whose verandahs exclude the
sun, whose portals are spacious and stylish, and whose stucco little
discolored by time, only appears all the more impressive, and sees
rising on the eminence behind venerable cathedrals; while garrisons,
crown batteries, and old-looking forts on either side, with the ensign
of Portugal, define its ownership, and make the picture more imposing.
It was here that the zeal of the Jesuit commenced the propagation
of his faith and questioned the ethics of Confucius; it was here
that the “glory and shame” of Portugal—one-eyed Camoens—disgusted
at the country which could neither appreciate his genius nor reward
his courage, spent in voluntary exile five years of his life and
completed the Lusiad—that poem which, when shipwrecked, he saved
from destruction by swimming and holding it above water, and that was
ultimately to meet with the worse fate of being rendered into another
language by Fanshaw. It was here that the English displayed the
surreptitious boldness of carrying away, by the power of arms, from
Portuguese custody, a missionary who had been guilty of the bad manners
and overt nonsense of offending people not his own, by a refusal of
compliance with a very ordinary custom, on the occasion of a catholic
procession, at a time when the authorities and the greater part of the
population were witnessing a boat regatta in their harbor; and it was
at the outer barrier of Macao, that its governor, a few years ago,
while taking an evening ride with one of his aids, was cut to pieces by
the revengeful Chinamen, because of his having caused a road to be made
through one of their burial-places in the vicinity.
On anchoring, a number of us paid a visit to the shore, which was some
distance, in a Chinese “fast-boat,” the ship’s boats being seldom used
in those countries, both because of a sanitary regard for a ship’s
company, who would suffer from long rows under a new and sickly sun,
and because the Chinese conveyances are scarcely the tax of a song: a
“fast-boat,” with a crew of three or four rowers, which also serves
as the floating habitation of the owner and a family composed of as
many more, can be employed for constant attendance on a man-of-war for
a very small number of dollars per month. They are always at hand;
when not going they are made fast astern, and when triangulating
between Whampoa, Macao, and Hong-Kong, they follow with Ruth and Naomi
constancy. Will we forget you, old Ashing?—with your punctuality and
good-natured readiness, whether disturbed at your chow-chow, or called
at late hour of the night? Then, too, your ever equable philosophy;
the Irish pilot knew the rocks in the channel well, especially when he
thumped on top of one; but your foresight, far surpassing his, always
told us, in answer to the question, “Can you take us off?”—“Supposee
too much no good wind, no can catchee ship: Supposee no too muchee bad
wind, can catchee ship,”—which was so solacing. The name “fast-boat”
is a misnomer, except when chased by a good wind, and then they move
through the water, impelled by their large mat-sails, with great
rapidity. They are built in a wedge-like shape, generally some twenty
feet long, with a small indented place with seats under matting for
their passengers, and movable decks, below which the crew stretch
themselves to sleep. Since the days of the “old woman who lived in a
shoe,” nothing can be found which has been made to contain more human
beings in the same space than a Chinese fast, or tanka boat, besides
having room for cooking purposes, a watertank, a spare spar, and a
small altar, in whose front a joss-stick kept burning propitiates their
tutelar deity. Ye pampered denizens of the crowded city, upon whose
elbows the bricks and mortar of more plebeian neighbors crowd too
close, go and learn of those human bees of the world, economy of space.
The water becomes so shoal before reaching the stone pier, that the
little vessel lowers sail and drops anchor—this shoalness is the
result of that want of force or energy, which, shown in the decline
of Goa, could not maintain the fortifications of Point de Galle after
building them, and which from sudden and unhealthy culmination, has
marked the downfall of all the Portuguese possessions in the East.
We were encompassed by tanka-boats—so named from their resemblance
in shape to an egg—a great number of which they could scarcely
contain. Their maiden proprietors, with their pretty teeth, big nankeen
breeches, nicely-plaited hair, small bare feet and braceleted wrists,
at once set up the cry, “Takee my boatee!—takee my boatee!” Some one
having taken the cockle-shell barge of Atti, and some other that of
Aqui, a few moves of the powerful skull of the Celestial Charon at
the stern, as her small feet step back and forth on a neatly-scoured
miniature platform, and a few pulls at the sweep-oar of the Celestial
Charon in the bow, and the boat now is in the sand of the beach. One
of the maidens, with none of the aversion of the feline species, steps
over into the water, arranges a small cricket-bridge, and balance-pole
of bamboo, and with the right hand of fellowship helps you up on the
nice stone jutty. Up, you walk to Franck’s hotel, on the wide and
level praya, leading to the circular promenade on which the Rip Van
Winkle population, when the hot sun is nearly down, go to take their
ante-supper walk and evening airing.
On the 18th of April we left the anchorage of the old Portuguese city,
and started for our first visit to the anchorage of Canton for ships
drawing twenty feet of water. We stood across the wide and turbid
estuary of the Pekiang, and about twelve o’clock we reached the Bocca
Tigris—the proper mouth of the Canton river—and passed the forts
of the Bogue, that the English ships Andromache, Imogen, and others,
handled so badly as they held on their way up to their great city. We
were detained some time before reaching here, by having towed under
an itinerant fast-boat who had made fast astern. It took some time to
right his boat, bail her, and take off the crew who huddled on her
keel. The fellow was attempting to smuggle salt which made his boat too
deep. He afterward fell into the hands of some of the river pirates who
infest the waters of China. We ran through fish-stakes innumerable,
passed pagodas—those lofty, circular, terraced piles of brick and
porcelain, which some of the Chinamen tell you were built to mark
the commencement of learning and civilization with them, and others
that they keep off evil spirits from the country visible from their
tops—and at three o’clock were moored in Whampoa Reach, surrounded by
merchant-ships of all nations; from the mountainous old East Indiaman,
to the (cynosure of all) magnificent American clippers. ’Tis here, of
all the world, in a limited space, that the alpha and omega of naval
architecture are to be seen—the “Flying Cloud,” the “Sea Serpent,” and
the Chinese salt-junk.
After chartering a Peruvian-built bark as a coal-ship for the squadron,
and ordering two officers to her, allowing those of the Mississippi
to make a hurried visit to Canton, and shipping about forty Chinese
coolies, whose names puzzled the purser to enter, we returned to Macao
and then to Hong-Kong. On the 27th April we left the latter place for
the more northern port of Shanghae, where the steam-frigate Susquehanna
awaited the arrival of the commodore, who proposed making her his
flag-ship because of her noble spaciousness. We went out by the Lymoon
passage, and with the ship deeply laden with coal, staggered along up
the Formosa channel. For a few days we had a mist so thick that it
precipitated in rain, and afterward a fog so thick that we ran slowly
and cautiously not to go over Chinese fishermen, and also to take
soundings, for which purpose the engines were stopped at intervals.
Our band played at intervals: the English-coast pilot on board had a
Kanaka servant with him; this fellow would listen to the music with
much interest and seem delighted: the Chinese cooley would move about
the deck the while, apparently perfectly unconscious of, or indifferent
to the sweet strains, or if he observed at all, his smooth and sinister
face looked his disapproval of such a barbarian noise.
Our first of May suggested anything else but floral association. It
was cold and raw; blowing fresh, and a heavy head-sea, which, during
the night, smashed in the port side of the head-rail of the ship; deck
wet, sky overcast; no observations, to determine our position could be
taken; poor little land-birds, ejected from domicil, were perched in
the rigging, too much benumbed to work their passage, and around were
small junks of the Chinaman, “laying-to,” with basket-drags from head
and stern, like floating anchors.
On the 3d, we entered the mouth of the Yang-tse-kiang—it being
remembered that _kiang_ is the Chinese for river. The water is as muddy
as that of the Pekiang. Just inside of an island, bearing the euphonic
name of the orientalist and quasi-missionary, Gutzlaff, we got an
English pilot who gave us the first intelligence of the doings of the
rebel army, up the river, in the vicinity of Nanking. The navigation of
the Yang-tse is exceedingly intricate, owing to hard and shifting bars,
which rendered it necessary for a ship of our size to proceed with much
caution. The shores were low and white, and resembled the coast of
Florida. Shanghae is situated on the Woosung river, which empties into
the Yang-tse at the village of Woosung, and after reaching the village
and anchorage for opium-ships, you run off to the left and southwest
for Shanghae. Nothing can exceed the closeness and thoroughness of the
cultivation visible on the bank on both sides of this tortuous stream;
it looks like one great market-garden, and the wonderful industry of
its cultivators, says to the black soil, month in and month out, “Give!
give!” The unremitting toil, and the uninterrupted use of ammoniacal
fertilizers never allow the earth to be weary of well-doing. No wonder
agriculture is so fostered by the government, and that once a year the
imperial cousin, &c., to the planetary system, should, by holding the
plough in the field, attempt the impossibility of adding dignity to the
labors of the husbandman.
A few hours’ run after entering the Woosung, enabled us to descry
the Susquehanna and the Plymouth, the bend of the river, and the low
and level paddy-fields, causing them to appear as if enclosed by dry
land. The salute of the former came to us over any quantity of waving
rice. The river, at the city, is quite narrow, and we anchored in the
Chow-chow water—which, with the upturned mud, curls and eddies and
turns back and runs on, causing the ships to swing every way at their
anchors—just opposite to the numerous houses of the foreign residents,
and a short row from a stone quay and level walk which imported
cockneyism calls “_the Bund_.”
Below where we lay, across Suchow creek, was to be seen a neat little
protestant church, with a small tower, and the unpretending residences
of the missionaries of protestant churches, whose unremitting labors,
and social deprivation, deserve better reward than the mere partial
success with which they meet. Above the consulate and hongs, commences
the city, its walls approaching the water’s edge, and running some
distance back. A short walk through a crowded and muddy suburb and you
enter one of the gates. The imperial authority, the Taoutae, fearing
an attack from the adherents of the rebel chief, Thae-ping-Wang,
had fortified the place, and most of the silk and other stores were
closed. Previous to our arrival they had experienced the shock of
an earthquake, which had shaken down a wall or so. I passed through
the narrow, sloppy streets, but the scene was far from the animated
one that we had seen in Canton. The population, whose complexions
and persons are better than in the more southern districts, were
evidently apprehensive that there was soon to be “too muchee bobbery,”
or fighting. But nothing can restrain the lower classes from their
insatiate vice of gambling. In the tea-gardens, from morning to night,
it was to be seen going on; while the “sing-song” theatres were amusing
others. At the entrance to a joss-house, and along the streets, were
to be seen the horrible ghastly emaciation, and foamy mouths, of dead
and dying beggars, in filthy tattered rags, to whose presence the
passers-by seemed utterly indifferent. Some had dragged themselves
to die on the flag-stone crossing of a small stream, that they might
possibly get interment; it being said that any one who touched them, is
compelled to have this office performed.
The occupants of the foreign hongs had formed a volunteer, or patrol
company, for the custody of their property, and under the protection
of the guns of quite a large English and American force, were having
their amusement, indifferent to Taontae, or Thae-ping-wang. Dinners
were given at the consulates, _a la Chinois_, at which the American
and English envoys were present; and at night parties were given by
these functionaries, and well attended; or a neatly-printed bill
with “Imperial Theatre, Shanghai, and _Vivant Regina and Princess_,”
requested the honor of your Company, to witness the dramatic doings of
“her majesty’s servants,” of the English brig “Lily.” Then, too, there
was the “spring meeting of the Shanghae races,” which were interesting,
and ridiculous too, at times. The course was not very extensive, but
quite well thronged, here and there a Tartar soldier being visible in
the crowd. The races, in which I noticed Mr. T’hën Tih had entered his
steed Qui-Qui, were:—
1.—THE GRIFFIN’S HANDICAP.—For _China Ponies_ that have run in the
_Griffin’s Plate_, and whose owners have subscribed to this Handicap;
the winner of the _Griffin’s Plate_ excluded.—Heats once round from
the Willows.—Ponies to be handicapped after the _Griffin’s Plate_
is run for.—Subscribers may start two Ponies for one subscription.
Prizes from amount subscribed to be appropriated to 1st, 2d, and 3d
Ponies in six shares.—The winner of the race to receive 3 shares,
the second Pony 2, and the third 1 share.—The second and third
Ponies in the last heat to be the winners of the second and third
prizes.—Entrance $10, and half forfeit if declared on or before 8th
April.
2.—THE TSATLEE CUP,—Value $75, for all _Ponies_.—Entrance $3 each to
second Pony.—Weight for inches.—Winner of the _Manilla Cup_ to carry
14 lbs. extra and of _Chaa-sée Cup_ 7 lbs. extra.—Twice round.
3.—THE PANG-KING-PANG STAKES,—Of $2 each with $20 from the fund for
_China Ponies_.—Weight for inches.—Once round from the Willows.
4.—THE LADIES’ PURSE AND PLATE,—Value $50 for all _Ponies_.—Entrance
$3 each.—Weight for inches.—Twice round.
5.—THE PERSIAN CUP,—Value $50.—Second Pony $15.—For _China Ponies_
only.—Entrance $3 each.—Weight for Inches.—Once round from the
Willows.
6.—THE FORCED HANDICAP,—For all _Winning Ponies_ at this meeting to
be handicapped by the Stewards.—Entrance $3 each with $30 from the
fund.—Once round and a distance.
7.—THE CELESTIAL STAKES,—For all _Beaten China Ponies_ at this
meeting.—Entrance $3 with $30 from the fund. Weight for inches.—Once
round and a distance.
8.—THE NATIVE PURSE,—Value 15,000 cash, for all _Ponies_.—Indian and
Chinese riders.—Post entries to the clerk of the course. No entrance
fee.—Twice round.
The native horses are small, and the native saddles clumsy in the
extreme, with their large iron-lever stirrups; and when John Chinaman,
perched like a monkey on his shoulders, pushed his pony for the purse,
the scene was exceedingly ludicrous. Fourteen cash make one cent, so
the amount won in the last race was not so great as one would think.
On the 9th the commodore, with the customary manning of yards and
salute, shifted his broad pennant from the Mississippi to the
Susquehanna, and the British war-steamer “Hermes,” which had been
to take the English plenipotentiary to the camp of the rebel chief
below Nanking, returned with that functionary, whose mission had not
proven propitious. Her officers stated that on their way up the river,
near Cheang-foo, they were fired at by the rebel forces, and above
Nanking by the imperial troops, but without injury. In an interview
with them, the English assured them that their visit was both friendly
and neutral. The rebels expressed regret at the firing, and said they
would send down an order to prevent its recurrence. There being a
difficulty between Thae-ping-wang and the English embassador, Sir S.
George Bonham, as to the preliminaries of an interview, the “favorite
of Heaven” not willing to make any concessions, the steamer returned,
and was again fired at, one shot striking her hull, and another the
main-yard and backstay. The “Hermes” let slip at them, knocking over
some of their guns, and passed on. At a place called Silver island they
stopped to take a look at the idols the rebels had broken, when one of
their generals came down with an apologetic letter about the firing; it
was a mistake. This general said himself, and those united with him in
the struggle, were protestant Christians; that they did not tolerate
opium, tobacco, or profanity, and worshipped not idols, but the one
God. If they were successful they would open Nanking to all the world.
At that time a great deal of aid to the labors of the missionaries in
China, was predicted from their movements, which subsequent events have
not realized.
The storeship “Supply,” of our squadron having gotten ashore at the
mouth of the Yang-tse on the “North bank,” we were suddenly despatched
to her assistance, but discovered she had gotten afloat before the
Mississippi reached her anchorage. Below Woosung we took in tow a
large teak-wood junk, manned by Chinamen, and laden with coal, which
we were to take aboard after getting over the bar. On the 18th, while
waiting for the Susquehanna, the tide changed, the old junk drifted
into us threatening to crush our quarter-boats, so she was cast off.
The ancient pig-tail mariner who presided over her crew and helm,
though conscious of drifting each moment on a dangerous bank, would not
cast his anchor, because, as it was afterward believed, he thought the
“fanquis” of the American steamer were going to tow him out to sea; the
consequence was, the wind and sea having increased, the junk struck,
and the tide soon falling, she was hard and fast. Boats were sent to
her assistance, but the breakers prevented her from being reached,
before a late hour of the night, when the officer sent with the boats
seeing it impossible to get her off, and seven feet water in her hold,
she was abandoned, and the crew brought aboard of the Mississippi. A
dismal looking set of Celestial scape-graces they were, and presented
a motley group as they sat around their pig-tail Falconer encased in
an antique fur cape, jabbering about their escape. Before our boats
were able to reach them, they had illuminated their cabin altar, burned
perfumed sticks and paper, and chin-chinned Joss with great vim, but
their stupid little tutelar deity not having responded to their prayers
for assistance, they became indignant, tossed Mr. Joss, altar, perfumed
sticks, and all, overboard, and betook themselves to the more sensible
thing of building a raft of bamboos and their huge mat sails, with
which they proposed, when the sea went down, to risk their safety. They
were sent back to Shanghae by the pilot-boat, having subjected Uncle
Sam to some three thousand dollars’ loss, besides nearly all of the
crew of the boat, that slept aboard of her, had the “junk fever,” and
one afterward died from it.
The weather continuing very rough, the wind at times changing in five
minutes to the opposite point of the compass, we laid under Saddle
island for two or three days, when, with the “Supply” in tow, and in
company with the now flag-ship, “Susquehanna,” on the 23d of May, we
took our departure for the Loo-Choo islands.