the most part filled with the dead and dying; an intolerable stench,
arising from putrefaction, which it is impossible by any means to get
rid of, salutes his descent; and to this is added the groans of
lingering sufferers. He may chance, God help him, to be lowered down at
the very hour of the inspecting surgeon's visits. The latter is seated
by a bed, having probably just performed, or in the act of performing,
an operation. The goodly array of instruments meets his eye, and he
wonders, as they are displayed, what these several instruments of
torture can be applied to; the groans of the patient fall upon his ear,
and his nerves are so shattered and debilitated by disease, that the
blood curdles to his heart. The inspector writes the particulars of the
case on a printed form, while the dressers are passing bandages round
the fainting patient. As soon as he is out of the cot which lowered him
down, the new arrival is washed, and clothed in hospital linen, ready to
be put into a bed. Not unfrequently he has to wait till room can be made
for him, by removing the corpse of the last occupant, just deceased. He
is then placed on it, a coarse sheet is thrown over him, and he is left
to await the inspector's visit, which, as that officer has all his
former patients first to prescribe for, may perhaps be not for an hour
or two, or more. At last he is visited, prescribed for, a can of
rice-water is placed at the head of his bed, and he is left to his own
thoughts, if the groans of those around him, and the horror that he
feels at his situation, will permit him to reach them. If he can do so,
they must be any thing but agreeable; and a clever medical man told me
that this admission into the hospital, and the scene which the patient
was introduced to, was quite sufficient, acting upon a mind unnerved by
disease, to produce fever. Excepting that the hospital was too crowded,
which indeed could not be prevented, there was, however, every
arrangement for the comfort of the patients which could be made under
such a climate. No one was to blame--the hospital for the military was
building, and until it was ready for the reception of the patients, the
men of both services were received on board of the Minden. But if the
day is so trying, who can describe the horrors of the night? The
atmosphere becomes still more foul and pestilential, from the partially
closed port-holes, and from the indifference of the nurses to the
necessary cleanliness required. The whole becomes alive with cockroaches
and other vermin, creeping over the patients; and the mosquitoes prey
upon the unfortunate sufferer, or drive him mad with their unceasing
humming preparatory to their attacks. Add these new trials to the groans
of the dying, which, during my residence on board, never ceased, and at
night were more awful and painfully distinct. The nurses were all men,
obtained from the scum of the sea-ports, for no others would volunteer
for the duty--a set of brutes indifferent to the sufferings of others.
As long as they were, during the day, superintended and watched by the
officers, they did their duty, but at night the neglect was most
shameful. In fact, these wretches composed themselves to sleep instead
of watching. Patients may in vain call, in a feeble voice, for
water--the only answer is a snore. On one occasion, having listened to
the call of a poor fellow for more than an hour, and each time in a
weaker voice, for drink, I was obliged to get up myself to wake the
nurse, that the man might not die of thirst.[2]
[Footnote 2: These rascally nurses have all been discharged.
When enlisted as nurses in England, they signed for three
years' service. When their time was expired, they applied to
Admiral Cochrane for their discharge. After some demur their
request was complied with; but their conduct had been so
disgraceful, that, as it was not in the agreement, they were
refused a passage home in a man-of-war. I met some of them
ashore at Hong Kong, looking in vain for employment, and at a
distance of 20,000 miles from their own country. The
retribution was just.]
My cabin, for all the officers were separated from the men, commanded
the whole view of the lower deck, and I was compelled to be witness of
scenes of the most frightful description. An English sailor had been
hung for murder, in consequence of his accomplice, who was by far the
most criminal of the two, having turned queen's evidence. This latter
soon afterwards was brought on board the Minden, having been attacked
with the fever, and never was there such an evidence of the racking of a
bad conscience. In his ravings he shrieked for mercy, and then would
blaspheme in the most awful manner. At one moment the spectre of his
dead comrade would be invoked by him, requesting it to depart, or
desiring those around him to take it away. At others, the murdered man
was standing at his bed-side, and he would attempt to run, that he might
flee from the vision. Thus was he haunted, and thus did he disturb all
around him till his very last hour, when he died in an extreme of agony,
physical and mental. What a relief it was when this poor wretch was at
last silent!
Almost every day there was to be seen a Roman Catholic priest
administering the last unction to some disciple of his faith, some Irish
soldier or sailor, whose hour was come. On these occasions the
amputation table was his altar, and a brass flat candlestick the only
ornament. He never failed to be at his post every day, and was a good
old man. At the same time that the old priest was officiating by the
side of one bed, the chaplain of the ship would be attending the last
moments of some other victim. On these occasions all would be silent on
the deck, even the groans were stifled and checked for the time, and
nothing would be heard but the muttered prayer of the Catholic priest,
or the last, and often futile, attempts of the clergyman of our own
creed to extract some sign of faith and hope from the fast-sinking and
almost senseless patient.
"He dies, and makes no sign! O God, forgive him!"
At times the uproar on the deck would be appalling. Some powerful man in
the strength of delirium would rise from his bed, and, bursting from
some half-dozen of the nurses, would rush through the tiers of beds
roaring like a bull, and dealing blows right and left upon the
unfortunate sick men who fell in his way. Then there would be general
chase after him, until, overpowered by additional help, he was brought
back to his bed and confined by force. An hour or two afterwards, the
nurses who watched him would quit the side of the pallet; a sheet would
be thrown over it; no other communication was necessary to tell me that
the storm had been succeeded by a calm, and that life's fitful fever was
over.
At the forepart of the hospital deck is a bath room; adjoining to that
is a small dark cabin, with no other furniture than a long white-washed
board, laid upon two tressels, with hooks fixed to the carlines of the
deck. Above these the dead bodies are removed: immediately after their
decease a _post mortem_ examination is made by the assistant surgeon, a
report of which is sent into the inspector. A port-hole has a wooden
shoot or slide fixed to it, by which the bodies are ejected into the
boat waiting to convey them for interment.
The church service is read every morning on the hospital deck, and
during the performance the strictest attention was paid by the patients.
When convalescent I enjoyed the privilege of walking on the poop with
the others who had been spared, and truly grateful was I for my
recovery. Such scenes as I have described could not but have the effect
upon me: I hope that I left the hospital a wiser and a better man.
At last the time came when I was pronounced by the doctors to be quite
cured, and at liberty to leave the ship. I hardly need say that I did so
with alacrity. I had always before this considered Hong Kong as a most
disgusting place; but now that I had been so long cooped up with disease
and death, it appeared to me as a paradise. I had made one or two
acquaintances during my former visits, and now found their kind offers
too welcome to refuse them. Having nothing to do, and not being even
obliged to present myself on board of the Mind en, I enjoyed myself
excessively in journeys and excursions to the other side of the island.
My acquaintances were the officers of the 42d regiment, who were
remarkably kind and intelligent men, and during my stay I was a great
deal in their society. We one day made up a party to visit Pirate's Bay,
a spot on the Chinese main, about twelve miles from Hong Kong. Starting
early, we took our guns and the requisites for a pic-nic. When we
arrived at the spot, we hired the only respectable house in the place,
left a native to make the necessary arrangements for our dinner, and
then started on a cruise to view the country. We shot at any thing that
came in our way, and by noon our game-bag contained a curious medley of
ducks, paroquets, swallows, and water rats. By this time the sun became
so overpowering that we returned to the house which had been hired for
our accommodation. Here we dined, and returned to Hong Kong well pleased
with our trip. The roads at Hong Kong, though not particularly good,
have been made at great expence. Large rocks have been cut through to
afford communication, and the quantity of rivulets running down from the
mountains, have rendered it necessary to build innumerable bridges.
There were but few good horses on the island; but I managed to procure a
tolerable one, and in the evening would ride out by "Happy Valley," and
return by dark, the only exercise which the heat of the climate would
permit, and which was necessary to restore me to health. Society is in a
queer state here, as may be imagined when I state, that the shipowner
won't associate with the small merchant, and the latter will not deign
to acknowledge a man who keeps a store. Under these circumstances, the
army and navy keep aloof, and associate with no class. There were very
few ladies at Hong Kong at this time, and of what class they were
composed of may be imagined, when I state that a shopkeeper's sister was
the belle of the place, and received all the homage of the marriageable
men of Hong Kong. Hospitality to strangers is as yet unknown, and a
letter of introduction is only good for one tiffin, or more rarely one
dinner. I made several excursions in the country, but did not find any
thing worth narrating, or describing with the pencil.
[Illustration: TANKA BOAT WOMEN.]
It is here worthy of remark, that there is every prospect of all the
enormous expense which has been bestowed upon this island being totally
thrown away, and that those who have speculated will lose all their
money; in fact, that in a few years Hong Kong will be totally deserted,
and all the money expended upon it will be lost. To explain this I must
mention a few facts, not probably known to my readers.
When, many years ago, the trade with foreigners was first permitted by
the Chinese government, Canton was selected as the port from which it
should be carried on. The Chinese government had two reasons for making
this selection: their first was, their dislike and jealousy of
foreigners induced them to select a port at the very confines of the
empire where the communication with them should take place, so that by
no chance the foreigners should obtain any thing like a footing in or
knowledge of their country; the second reason was, that by so doing they
obtained, at the expence of the foreigners, a very considerable inland
revenue from the tea trade. Canton is situated at least 500 miles from
those provinces in which the tea is grown, and the transit to Canton is
over a very mountainous range, at the passes of which tolls are levied
by the government, which are now said to amount annually to seven
millions. The assertion, therefore, of the Chinese government that they
do not care about the trade is very false, for they have derived a great
revenue from it.
The opening of the more northern ports, which was obtained by the war
with China, has already made a great difference, and every year will
make a greater. Shang-hai, one of the ports opened, and the farthest to
the northward, is situated on the confines of the great tea country, and
vessels going there to take in their cargoes avoid all the duties of
transit, and procure the tea in a much better condition. The merchants
of Canton, moreover, who traffic in tea, are all of them for the most
part people of the province of Shang-hai, who resort to Canton to look
after their interests, but now that the port of Shang-hai is opened,
their merchants are returning to their own country, the English
merchants are settling at Shang-hai, and the vessels are going there to
load with tea direct. Already a large portion of the traffic has left
Canton and gone to Shang-hai, and it is but natural to suppose, that in
a few years the tea trade will be carried on altogether from that port,
as the expence of transit over the mountains and the duties levied will
be avoided, as well as the advantage gained of having the tea in a much
better condition when shipped on board. How the Chinese government will
act when it finds that it loses the great revenue arising from the trade
being carried on at Canton remains to be seen, but it will, probably,
succumb to another war, if such is considered necessary. It will be a
curious subject of interest to watch the fall of Hong Kong, of Macao,
and also of Canton itself, with its turbulent population, which must,
when the trade is withdrawn, fall into insignificance.
The great error of the last war was, our selection of such an unhealthy
and barren island as Hong Kong as our _pied-à-terre_ in China, when we
might have had Chusan, or, indeed, any other place which we might have
insisted upon. We thought that Chusan was unhealthy because we barracked
our soldiers in the swamps, and consequently lost many of the men, when,
as it is a most healthy and delightful climate, had the barracks been
built on the hills, we probably should not have lost a man. Even now it
is not too late. The Chinese dislike our propinquity to their coast at
Hong Kong, and the last expedition will have the effect of increasing
this dislike. I think, with very little difficulty, the Chinese
government would now exchange Chusan for Hong Kong, if it were only to
keep such unpleasant barbarians, as the English have proved to be, at a
more respectable distance. If we had possession of Chusan, the trade
would come to our ports. The Chinese junks would come to us loaded with
tea, and take our goods in return. The trade would then be really thrown
open, which at present it is not.
[Illustration: MAN-OF-WAR JUNK.]
Murders and robberies were of daily, or, rather, nightly occurrence at
Hong Kong, the offenders being Chinese, who are the most daring robbers
perhaps in the world.
[Illustration: TRADING JUNKS.]
I must now detail the events of a cruise of the Samarang during the time
that I was in the Iris, and I avail myself of the private journal of one
of my friends.
May 9th, sailed from Hong Kong to Batan, to complete the survey of the
Bashee group. On the 20th we left Batan to run to Ibyat, about twenty
miles from the former island, and although a high table land, it is low
when compared with Batan. I never saw an island less inviting in
appearance than Ibyat. We landed at the foot of a precipice, nearly
perpendicular, and ascended to the summit by means of rough ladders,
placed upright against large masses of rock; on either side of which
were gaping chasms, the very sight of which were sufficient to unnerve
us. This plan was not only the best for landing on this strange island,
but, as the natives informed us, was almost the only one where a landing
could be effected without great danger. It was near sunset when we
landed; the boats returned to the ship, leaving us to partake of the
hospitality of the padres from Batan, who had taken a passage in the
ship, as they had some spiritual business to transact on this island.
About 8 P. M., we arrived at the village of San Raphael, where we slept
in a house set apart for the use of the padres. This village is situated
in the centre of the island, built in a valley and on eminences which
surround it. The most commanding position is occupied by the church and
mission house, both of which are much larger, although built of the same
materials, and on the same plan, as the houses of the natives. There was
but one room in the mission house, which was scantily furnished with
some heavy wooden chairs, and some cane settees for bed places; however,
thanks to the kindness of the padres, we contrived to make ourselves
very comfortable. There are four villages in the island, San Raphael,
Santa Maria, Santa Lucia, and Santa Rosa; each consisting of about forty
houses, containing about 300 people; so that the population may be
taken, at a rough guess, at about 1200. The natives profess the Roman
Catholic religion, and appear to be very sincere in their devotion.
Divine service is performed morning and evening, at which time the boys
and girls of the village walk to the church in two lines, chanting a
hymn to the Virgin Mary. Each line is headed by the youngest of either
sex, bearing a cross. The boys wore nothing but the middle cloth, and
the girls were almost as scantily clothed; the only garment being a
skirt or petticoat, not larger than a moderate sized
pocket-handkerchief. During two days our friends, the padres, were fully
occupied with the important ceremonies of marriage and baptism. Many of
the parties joined in matrimony were mere children. They all had, on
this important occasion, some addition to their general costume. The
bridegroom, for instance, wore a shirt; some of them had actually a pair
of trousers. The bride had an additional and large petticoat, and an
embroidered handkerchief. They were not at all bashful--there was no
blushing--no tears, and, on the contrary, marriage appeared to be
considered as an excellent joke, and the laughing and flirtation were
carried on to the church door. The padres appeared to be almost
worshipped by the poor natives, who, on their arrival and departure,
respectfully saluted their hands. But their great affection was shown in
a more satisfactory and substantial manner, by the continual supply of
goats, pigs, fowls, vegetables, and fruit, which were liberally supplied
during our stay. I forgot to say that the marriage certificates were of
a very primitive kind; they consisted of a laurel leaf, in which were
rudely inscribed the names of the bride and bridegroom. At length,
having finished our survey, we bid farewell to our hospitable
entertainers, and on the 27th made sail for St. Domingo.
We remained two days at St. Domingo, and then weighed and steered to the
northward. On the 3d of June we landed on the island of Samazana, near
the south point of Formosa. The inhabitants of Samazana are Chinese,
although they pay no tribute to the emperor. This island was first
inhabited, about twenty years since, by a party of Chinese sailors, who
were thrown on shore in a tempest. They afterwards returned to Amoy,
where, having persuaded several families to join them, they returned to
Samazana, and colonised it. The fertility of this island has richly
repaid them for their labour. The village contains about 100 people, who
are located in about ten or fifteen houses. Paddy, sugar-cane, and yams
are grown in abundance, and ground nuts cover nearly one third of the
island. These Chinese settlers keep up a trade with Amoy, from whence
they obtain what they require, in exchange for the productions of their
island. We found these people very civil and obliging, but excessively
dirty in their persons and apparel.
About seven o'clock in the evening, while we were dining on the beach,
an earthquake shook the island, the glasses jingled together, and all
our party were in involuntary see-saw motion, like the Chinese figures.
This lasted about ten seconds. Several of us, who had never before
experienced the sensation, were much relieved when the shock was over,
as it created a suffocating sensation. During the evening there were
several other shocks, but none of them equal to the first in violence.
We remained all night on the island, to ascertain the latitude by the
stars.
On the following morning we returned on board, when we were informed
that the ship had struck on a reef on the preceding evening, at 7 P. M.
The lead was thrown overboard, but no soundings were obtained, proving,
beyond doubt, that the concussion had been communicated to the vessel.
She was about four miles off the land at the time, and many would not
then be convinced that it was an earthquake; although I believe it has
been satisfactorily proved that the shock has been felt by a vessel
which has been out of sight of any land.
On the 6th of June sighted one of the Madjicosima islands. The master in
the second cutter left the ship, with a week's provisions, to survey the
island, while we made sail for our former anchorage at Pa-tchu-san, to
obtain water.
On the 8th of June we arrived at Pa-tchu-san, where we were received by
our friends, the chiefs, who appeared delighted to see us again. We
learnt through our interpreter that a French frigate had left Loo-choo
for Corea two months before--twenty-seven of their countrymen, chiefly
missionaries, having been murdered by the Coreans. It would appear that
the French missionaries, exceeding their vocation, had wished to make
some alterations in the Corean form of government, but their attempts
not meeting the approbation of those in power, they fell a sacrifice to
their good intentions.
On the 9th we sailed for Sabangyat to pick up the two cutters. We
arrived there the next day, and were joined by the master. We received
every attention from the hospitable and inoffensive natives, who
supplied us with pigs, fowls, and vegetables, refusing to accept any
thing in return. We returned to Pa-tchu-san to rate our chronometers,
and sailed on the same day. The next morning we landed on Hoa-pen, an
island, but the cloudy weather prevented us from obtaining the latitude.
We landed during the day, and remained on shore the whole night to
obtain our objects, and, I may add, were most cruelly bitten by the
mosquitoes as a reward for our zeal.
When we were returning to the ship on the following morning, a large
albatross alighted on the water close to the boat. As we passed it, it
made several futile attempts to rise again on the wing. It is well known
that this bird cannot fly while under the influence of fear, and so it
appeared in this instance, for, while we were passing it, a shark
thrust its head out of the water and took the unfortunate bird down with
him.
On the 16th we landed at Tea-qua-san, where we captured great numbers of
albatrosses, ferns, and boobies. They actually refused to move at our
approach. This island is very small and uninhabited, but it was evident
that people had landed on it lately, for in a cave we discovered several
grass beds, remains of game, and remnants of cooking. The weather
prevented us from making any observations, but it did not prevent us
from collecting several hundreds of eggs, which we took on board with
us. The next day we saw a large rock, marked doubtful on the charts. A
heavy squall, which forced us to run before it for several hours,
prevented us from ascertaining its position.
June 19. We found ourselves close to the southern extremity of Loo-choo,
the land of which is low. About noon we anchored in the harbour of
Napa-kiang, and were boarded by several mandarins, one of whom the
captain recognised as the interpreter of the Blossom, whose interesting
cruise has been published by Captain Beechey. The natives of Loo-choo
are so similar to those of the Madjicosima group that it would be
useless describing their manners and customs, the more so as we have
already the works of Captain Hall and Captain Beechey, in which they are
described most accurately. A great many junks were anchored in the inner
harbour, their enormous masts towering far above the highest buildings.
The burial ground is a large tract of land to the left of the town; the
tombs are large, and in shape resemble the last letter in the Greek
alphabet ([Greek: Omega]). Strange that it should be the last letter.
Most of them are painted white, and they have from the anchorage a very
picturesque appearance.
It was the captain's intention to have sailed on the day after our
arrival, but the weather proving unfavourable for astronomical
observations, our departure was postponed for another day, when, having
obtained sights, some live stock, and vegetables, we sailed for Guilpat,
a large island off the southern extremity of Corea. Previous to our
sailing, a French missionary called on the captain. He had been left at
Loo-choo by the Alcimene frigate, with a view of introducing
Christianity into the island, but the chiefs did not appear to relish
his sojourn there, and were anxious to get rid of him. He offered to
accompany us to Corea and Japan; at the latter place he would have been
of great service, as he was acquainted with the Japanese language.
June 24. Sighted the Goth island, a portion of the Japanese empire. The
next morning the wind had increased to a heavy gale, and we were
compelled to reduce our canvass to a close-reefed main topsail,
staysail, and trysail. We rounded Cape Goth within a quarter of a mile,
and lay to under the lee of the island, where the sea was comparatively
smooth. Towards the evening the wind subsided, and we again made sail.
Saw the island of Guilpat, and the next morning anchored off the
north-east side of it, in a channel between Guilpat and a small island.
We landed on the small island, where we were received by about sixty
natives, who did not appear well pleased at our intrusion, but knew that
resistance to us would be useless.
In the course of the day several thousand natives had assembled on the
opposite shore. By the aid of good telescopes we could discern forts and
flags. The natives informed us that Guilpat had a standing army, well
supplied with matchlocks, swords, and bows and arrows. They added that
guns are not wanted to defend the island in case of need. This assertion
we afterwards found, making allowance for a little exaggeration, to be
quite correct.