On the Yangtze: Ichang to Wanhsien
We reached Ichang on Sunday afternoon, and were glad to be in time for
a service in the Presbyterian church, the last really homelike church
we attended till we reached Burma. In all other churches there were
things to remind us that we were in China, but here we were in Scotland
once more, and this is the only station of the Scotch Established
Church in China proper: they have a flourishing work, however, in
Manchuria.
Ichang has quite a colony of Europeans. They were anxious to have
a good road outside the town for the sake of exercise, and when we
visited the tennis club we saw the one they had made. The whole surface
of the ground for miles and miles is covered with mounds (= graves),
so closely packed together that it is impossible to help treading on
them if you leave the path. The Europeans knew there would be great
difficulty in obtaining permission to make the road they wanted, so
they subscribed the requisite funds among themselves and took French
leave to make it. Before the Chinese had recovered from their
surprise, or had decided what to do, the road was made. Then the
Chinese acted in a truly magnanimous way. Instead of simply seizing it,
as they had every right to do (according to my informant’s story), they
paid the Europeans all they had spent upon it, saying they must have
the road in their own hands.
[Illustration: CHINESE GRAVES]
From my sketch some idea may be formed of the vast multitudes of graves
outside Ichang: some have sticks planted in them with little paper
streamers. Wherever we travelled we saw the same sight--endless graves
speaking of the innumerable dead.
It took some time to make an agreement for a house-boat to take us from
Ichang to Wanhsien, as the boatmen prefer to go as far as Chungking,
where they can usually secure a fresh cargo for the return journey; but
eventually the matter was satisfactorily settled. A nice clean boat was
engaged, with three compartments and a good space for cooking at the
back, above which a little god sat in a shrine. We decided to inhabit
the two front rooms, and Mr. Ku and Liu the back one, and we hung up
curtains to supplement the flimsy partitions, as they consisted of a
few loose planks, with gaps of one or two inches wide between them, and
at quite a slight touch they fell down.
It was a great convenience that our interpreter and our servant (who
had also formerly been _his_ servant) shared a room and always had
their meals together. This is quite a usual arrangement in China, as
there never seems to be any desire for privacy amongst the Chinese,
and servants are on a much more intimate footing with their masters
than is the case with us.
The agreement for the boat was drawn up in writing, and the crew was to
consist of nineteen men: the sum to be paid for the whole trip was 95
taels (about £14). As Hosie mentions in his book that he had to pay £45
for his boat to Chungking (about twice the distance, though the latter
half is much the least arduous and dangerous), we were not dissatisfied
with our bargain, although we were told we were paying quite too much.
The captain received 75 taels at starting, ten taels when half-way,
and the remaining ten on arrival. Though the bargain was struck on
Tuesday, we did not succeed in starting till Saturday morning, and in
the mean time both we and the captain were busy with our preparations.
We got wadded Chinese clothes, for it was beginning to get cold, and
we thought (though in this we proved to be mistaken, for no curiosity
was exhibited about us at any place we visited in European clothes)
that they would save us from much inquisitive inspection in the western
provinces. Long fur-lined silk coats we had got in Peking (about £3.
10s.), tall black velvet felt-lined boots (7s. 6d.), wadded silk
jackets (7s. 6d.), black cloth (European) skirt, described on the
bill in Mr. Chang’s best English as “brewen fine cloth beetticoat”
(£1. 2s. 6d.). Our heating and cooking apparatus had to be made--two
impromptu charcoal stoves made out of packing-cases lined with bricks,
a little oven to stand on the top, three pans with lids (made out of
the ubiquitous kerosene tin), two tins, and a zinc kettle, all for the
modest sum of 6s. 6d. As our servant’s cooking capacity proved to be
very limited--he proudly announced he could cook both a chicken and a
pudding--we decided to trust rather to my experience, and we laid in a
supply of stores, which are easily obtainable at Ichang.
The next point was to secure a red-boat (= lifeboat), for which we
applied to the British Consul, and he again had to apply to the
Chinese General, who is always willing to provide one gratis to
foreign travellers. The Consul--like many of his class in China--at
once suggested every possible difficulty, and seemed to think that at
his request we should meekly turn round and go home again. He told
us that he had just refused to give the bishop a passport for some
ladies travelling into Szechwan, and we were thankful that we had got
ours--though not without difficulty and vexation--elsewhere. As we
were backed up by advice received at the British Embassy at Peking
with regard to our journey, the Consul could not refuse to apply for
the red-boat escort, though later in the day he had the satisfaction
of telling us that none was available. Happily, however, one came in
before we started, so that we had No. 48 assigned to us on Friday
evening. It was very wet all day, but I found an interesting subject to
paint in a family ancestral tablet. On the right-hand side is a drum
for worship, and on the altar in front of the tablet is a bronze vase
in which burning sticks of incense are placed. On certain days the
members of the family prostrate themselves before it, and offerings of
cakes and fruit are presented by them.
Ancestral worship dates from the earliest times, and has even to the
present time the strongest hold upon people of all classes. The Emperor
possesses seven shrines, representing his various ancestors; the nobles
are allowed five shrines, and ordinary people have only one. The
offerings are by no means costly or lavish, but at the same time they
must not be mean; and it is related of a certain high official, with
censure, that the sucking pig which he offered for his father was not
large enough to fill the dish! Closely allied with ancestral worship
is that greatest virtue of the Chinese, filial piety; and Confucius
lays stress in his teaching on the spirit in which its duties are to
be carried out, pointing out that it is best seen in endeavouring to
realise the aims of the forefathers.
After dinner we made our way through the rain down the slippery bank to
our boat, across a most shaky plank. The bare boards looked rather dull
quarters for the night, and the wind whistled dismally, so our kind
hosts offered to lend us deck-chairs and a good supply of newspapers
to keep out draughts--an offer we thankfully accepted. Soon we had
everything ship-shape, and began to accustom ourselves to the lullaby
provided by nineteen snorers, packed like herrings into the few yards
composing the forepart of the boat.
[Illustration: ANCESTRAL TABLET]
We made a pretence of starting the next morning between seven and
eight o’clock, heralded by a tremendous trampling overhead on our
little roof, which must have been remarkably tough not to have given
way. The mats used as an awning over the boatmen at night were stacked
on our roof during the day. We slowly made our way by the aid of a
sail for about half a mile up the river, alongside the town; then
the men stopped for breakfast, and we were told that the captain had
gone ashore to buy more bamboo towing-ropes. This took another hour
or two. Again we started, but after another half-mile we drew up
beside an island for a very long spell. _Festina lente_ was evidently
the watchword, and it took a great many exhortations through Mr. Ku,
as interpreter, before we got the men started again. Eventually we
succeeded in reaching the custom-house (ten miles up the river) by
dusk, and there tied up for the night.
From that time we always started soon after daylight, and there was no
lack of interest. The scenery became very grand--the banks were nearer
to each other, and lofty crags rose precipitously from the river-side,
often to a considerable height, 200 or 250 feet. Though the colour of
the water is ugly and muddy, the vegetation is most beautiful, and the
foliage of the azalea added greatly to the charm of the landscape.
There was so little wind that the sail was practically useless, and the
men shouted for the wind in vain. It is curious how much faith they
have in shouting, despite their frequent failure. They were obliged
to row, or go ashore and track. There is one long oar on each side
of the boat, and it is worked by five or six men, who twist it to
the accompaniment of a hoarse vocal noise--it can hardly be called a
chant--and it sometimes rises to a veritable howl! Not infrequently one
of the rowers stands on a plank on the outer side of the oar--namely,
above the river--fixed at right angles to the boat. When the current is
strong the men work in a sort of frenzy and stamp like elephants, their
voices rising to a deafening din, assisted by those of the rest of the
crew. Despite the cold they strip to the waist, and only put on their
thin blue cotton coats when they go on shore to track.
[Illustration: BLUE DAWN]
One of the men, clad in a long coat, utilised an unwonted lull in
his labours to wash his nether garment in the rice-tub which had
just been emptied by the hungry men! His teeth were chattering with
cold, and he shivered wofully in the raw air. The ten men who act as
trackers and tow the boat are as nimble as cats and scale the rocks
with marvellous rapidity, keeping up a rapid trot over the most
uncompromising boulders, while two men follow them to clear the rope
from obstructions. The ropes are made of bamboo, and look little
qualified to stand the heavy strain of pulling the laden junks up the
rapids. To these ropes the men are harnessed by short ropes, which
they detach at pleasure. The trackers are often a quarter of a mile
distant from the boat, for the river is very wide and winding in
places, and frequently extra men have to be hired, augmenting their
numbers up to one hundred or more for the worst rapids. Many a
time a tracker has to dash into the swirling waters to free the rope,
and his scanty clothing is flung off in the twinkling of an eye. Our
red-boat was quite useful in taking the trackers on and off the shore,
where the water was too shallow for us to go--and the red-boat men
were friendly creatures, continually hovering round us night and day,
ready for service. By means of little offerings of hot tea, &c.,
we soon got on the pleasantest terms, and often had little dumb-show
conversations. These boats are very light, and have long narrow blue
sails and blue-and-white striped awnings; the boat and military uniform
are scarlet, so that they are readily distinguishable from all other
craft on the river. Even their chopsticks are red: altogether they
look extremely smart, and the boatmen are skilful and experienced men.
Parcel-post boats have blue-and-white striped sails and a yellow sort
of box in the centre of the boat to distinguish them. The letters do
not go by water, but are carried by men overland.
There have been so many accidents on the river this season, owing to
its fulness, that we determined to go ashore whenever we came to a
rapid, and to take our luggage with us. We duly instructed the captain
and also the red-boat men on the subject, but, to our surprise, on
the third day we discovered that we had already come up one rapid,
and before we knew it we were into a second. The fact is that the
current is so strong, and the river altogether so tumultuous and
vicious-looking, that to the uninitiated the rapids are not always
different in appearance from the rest of the Yangtze, and most of the
way through the gorges seems full of rapids. Getting round the sharp
bends of the river is a difficult matter, and they frequently tie a
rope from the boat round a boulder, while the trackers hold on to
another fastened to the top of the mast, from which it can be lowered
at will by means of a slip rope. The trackers strain every nerve, and
frequently go on all-fours, and yet can’t budge an inch. Sometimes they
are obliged to let go, and then the junk slips back in the swirl of
water, to the great danger of any others that may be in the rear.
The fourth day after leaving Ichang we had a very narrow escape of
this sort. I had been admonishing the captain about his stupidity in
following close behind a heavy large junk, and told him we ought to
have been in front of it, by starting a little earlier in the morning.
He was surly, and complained that it would have been necessary to get
up so _very_, _very_ early; but he was soon brought to repentance by
something much more unpleasant than my words. We were waiting our turn
to get round a sharp corner, and were moored to the bank, so we had
no means of escape when the big junk suddenly swooped down upon us.
A horrible grinding, tearing, crashing sound ensued, accompanied by
violent yells from the men; but we gasped with relief to see our walls
still intact, though our windows were shivered and the shutters torn
off. The damage done was quite small, but it delayed us several
hours that day, and caused us to be at the end of a long string of
boats for getting up the big rapid next day.
[Illustration: YEH TAN RAPID]
The Yeh Tan rapid (nicknamed Mutton Point by the prosaic foreigner)
is one of the most dangerous, and we made great preparations in case
of accident, packing up our things carefully in oiled paper--a most
useful Chinese article, as it is a very cheap kind of waterproof. Our
men made quite other preparations, which they firmly believed in. A
quantity of special sacred paper was waved--burning--over the front of
the boat; incense sticks were fixed up and lighted; finally a cock was
killed, and its blood and feathers plentifully bespattered around. This
was extremely distracting to me, as I was well embarked on a sketch
when it took place under my very eyes. The subject of the sketch was
quite characteristic--a beautiful rosy russet hillside, with a temple
peeping out of the trees, and a long narrow line of village above the
high-water mark of the river. On the shingly river-bed were temporary
booths used as restaurants.
Finding ourselves tied to the bank for an indefinite time, we began to
cook our lunch; but no sooner was the pot boiling than our red-boat
men appeared saying they had got up the rapid (they were not obliged
to wait their turn like ordinary boats), and were come to escort us on
shore. We asked if our boat was allowed to take precedence of the big
junks, and were told that it was; and as our trackers had already gone
ashore, it lent colour to the fiction, and we started off cheerfully
enough. The boatmen shouldered our suit-cases, which we were afraid to
risk, as they contained not only clothes and sketches, but money in
the shape of lumps of silver called “tings,” that were to last us for
several weeks, and which weighed many pounds. It is really tiresome
to have to carry money in this form and have it cut up and weighed in
little bits, with which to buy the cash of the district, before you
can purchase anything. In the more Europeanised East, Mexican dollars
are used, also bank-notes; but from this time on we were obliged
to use only the rough silver lumps and copper cash. Sometimes the
reckoning was by taels and sometimes by dollars. The tael is an ounce
of silver--namely, one and one-third English ounces--but there is no
coin to represent the tael. The silver shoe is about fifty taels, but
the taels vary in value at different places--the Peking tael is not the
same, for instance, as the Hankow tael: altogether, the money system
is hopelessly complicated. It made us feel, however, that we had got
beyond the pale of civilisation, and we never attempted after this to
do any purchasing ourselves, but were fortunate enough to be able to
leave our money matters with perfect confidence in Mr. Ku’s hands. The
result was that we did our journey much more economically than other
similar travellers, and were saved all worry.
It may be of interest to the reader to see one of the latest Government
edicts on the subject of the currency, and to know that it has decided
in favour of a uniform tael, the value of which is fixed at the
astonishing figure of 1549 cash. According to the reports of the
governors of the eighteen provinces, there were eleven provinces in
favour of the tael as against eight in favour of the dollar currency.
As the tael has never existed in coin form, and dollars are largely
used, there is much to be said in favour of the latter; but the
Chinese stick tenaciously to their own peculiar belongings, and in all
financial transactions with foreign countries the tael has been the
term used in the past.
The following edict appeared in the _Peking Gazette_, October 5, 1908:
“An Imperial Decree in response to a memorial of Prince Ching and
other Ministers of the Government Council, and of Prince P’u-lun
and other Members of the Senate, who, in obedience to our Commands,
have deliberated upon the subject of a uniform national currency.
“A standard currency is the fundamental principle of public
finance, and various countries have adopted a gold coin as their
unit of value, with the subsidiary currency of silver and copper
tokens. Under well-framed regulations such currencies have
been found convenient and profitable. But it requires years of
preparation to be ready for such a measure, which can by no means
be attained at one step. The finances of China are in confusion,
and the standardising of the currency is an urgent necessity.
If actual gold coin were to be taken as the standard unit, it
would be difficult to raise the necessary amount; while if gold
were merely taken nominally as the standard unit, grave dangers
would be incurred. It is evident, therefore, that we should first
standardise and render uniform the silver currency, and then
carefully proceed to take measures for a further advance; with a
view to assuring the adoption of a gold standard in the future.
“The memorialists have pointed out that the use of the tael and its
fractions has been so long established that it would be difficult
to substitute any other denomination in its place. The Committee of
Finance in a previous memorial also recommended the determination
of the tael as the silver coin to be used.
“We, therefore, command that a large silver coin shall be struck
weighing one K’up’ing tael, and that large quantities of silver
coins weighing .5 of a K’up’ing tael shall also be minted for
general convenience in use. Also there shall be small pieces of one
mace and of five candareens, of less pure silver, which will serve
as subsidiary currency. The two silver coins aforesaid shall be
.980 fine, while the two small silver pieces will be .880 fine.
“This silver currency, except in so far as calculations under
treaties and agreements with the Foreign Powers will require
to be made as before, shall be uniformly used by all Yamens,
great or small, in Peking or the provinces in all their Treasury
transactions, and all allowances for differences of weight
or touch, or meltage fees, &c. &c., shall henceforth be
perpetually forbidden.
“Let the Governors-General and Governors of Provinces examine the
conditions in their jurisdictions, and devise means in conjunction
with the Board of Finance for determining afresh, either by
increasing or decreasing as the case may be, the allowances and
rice money of territorial authorities and tax-collectors while on
duty, together with the expenditure for travelling on the public
service, and let the rates be published openly by proclamation, so
that the speculations of clerks and Yamen runners may be abolished
for ever.
“As regards the diversity of silver currency in the various
provinces, and differences of touch, which give dishonest traders
and market-dealers the opportunity for demanding discounts and
profits off each transaction, grievous injury is inflicted thereby
on all classes, and the Board of Finance is now commanded to issue
stringent regulations forbidding such practices in the future,
with the view that in a given number of years the national silver
currency may become completely uniform.
“Until the new coinage has been minted in sufficient quantities,
the dollar and subsidiary silver pieces in use in the provinces,
as well as the sycee, may be used as before, for the time being,
on the market; and Treasury payments may still be made in sycee
for the present, but must year by year be diminished by the
substitution of the new silver coinage. On these questions let the
Board of Finance carefully consider the circumstances and take
satisfactory steps for the execution of this measure.
“Let this Decree be generally circulated in all parts.
“Memorial of the Government Council (Hui I Cheng Wu Ch’u)
on the question of a Uniform National Currency.”
To return to our subject: we made our way along the shingly beach,
covered with large loose boulders, past the meat-market, where goats
stood ready to be converted into mutton “while you wait,” up to a broad
platform of masonry, about twenty feet high, from which the trackers
haul the boats up the rapid. They must have been certainly a quarter of
a mile distant, and it takes about half-an-hour for some 60 or 100 men
to get a heavy junk up the rapid--about 100 yards. We waited our turn
from 7.30 A.M. till 5.30 P.M., and there were only thirteen boats ahead
of us.
We found we had a short walk to the red-boat, but the men were so
nice, and had rigged up the awning for us, and were so anxious that we
should be comfortable and rest, that although we felt exasperated at
having left our boat and our meal so unnecessarily early, we could not
be angry with them. The red-boat was exquisitely clean, and the men
clever, daring, and trustworthy: the captain was very tall, and had his
head tied up because of a swelling, which made him look particularly
interesting.
We sent Liu to procure provisions, as our last fowl had just been put
in the pot, and he returned with three live ones (which appears to
be the Chinese equivalent to a pair), price 2s. 3d. The fowls took
French leave to dine on persimmons, which had been left within reach,
casting a furtive glance at intervals to where the boy was sitting
meditating on the bank. The day gradually wore away, and we were very
tired with the deafening noise of drums, guns, crackers, and shouting,
without which accompaniment the junks could not be towed up the rapid
in safety! The men on board yell and wave their arms as if in frantic
desperation to scare away the evil spirits. At last our turn came, and
our boat rode triumphantly up the rapid by means of two towing-ropes
in the space of ten minutes. Ten hours’ wait for a ten minutes’ job!
China certainly needs patience. Our men evidently thought they had done
enough for the day: they tied up to the bank, and were soon snugly
snoring for the night. They lie like rows of sausages, so tightly
packed that it hardly looks possible for one to turn in his sleep,
unless they did like seven sisters whom I know. When they were young
and the house was full, they slept in one capacious bed: when one got
tired and wanted to turn over, she said “turn,” and all the seven had
to turn together!
One of the men groaned heavily for some time, and then began to weep.
This was too much for the others, who put an effectual stop to it, so
that he groaned no more. In the morning I looked for the culprit, but
no one looked particularly ill, as many are opium-smokers and always
look a horrible dead colour.
The scenery grows grander and grander as you go up the gorges, and
the vicious-looking tide grows more and more threatening. Passing
wrecks from day to day is by no means reassuring, but when one sees
the slender rope on which the weight of a heavily laden junk depends,
the marvel seems that any escape being wrecked. To the traveller who
enjoys a spice of danger and loves glorious scenery no trip could be
more attractive than a journey up the Yangtze for a month or six weeks,
and it is quite easy to go almost the length of the empire by it. The
return journey is performed in a very short time, and is certainly
not lacking in excitement; for the boats seem to fly past us, and
all hands on board are needed to keep the junk at all head foremost;
while steering is a work demanding the utmost coolness, strength, and
intrepidity, for the river is full of hidden rocks. The change in the
height of the water adds immensely to the danger and difficulty of
navigation. For the journey downstream the masts are taken down, and on
a large junk fifteen or more men are kept rowing as if for dear life;
and even then the junk often threatens to be carried down sideways.
[Illustration: VILLAGE AND JUNK]
When there is a strong wind blowing it is wonderful to see how the
boats go up-stream, despite the current, while the men sit down with
beaming faces for a few minutes’ rest, or seize the opportunity to do
a little washing. One merry fellow--the wag of the party--explained in
pantomime that he wanted to see the soap with which we wash our hands,
and was delighted when we gave him a little bit with which to wash
a piece of cotton that he wraps round his head. They use very hot
water but no soap for washing, and it is astonishing to see how clean
they succeed in making their things. The tracker’s next bit of work
was philanthropic to a degree! He carefully washed out his mouth, then
filled it again with water and applied it to a gathering on the sole of
the foot of another man, and began to draw out the pus. I put a stop to
it, however, and attended to the foot in a more Western manner. This
was the beginning of my looking after the various sores of our party,
and from this time on I rarely lacked patients. It soon became rather
ludicrous, for any one who got a scratched finger seemed to think
it required my attention, and I much regretted not having supplied
myself with a dresser’s case and a few simple requisites. Directly
the man had had his foot attended to, he had to go on shore to track,
with nothing but a straw sandal to protect the foot from stones and
dirt. The endurance of the men is extraordinary, but happily they are
insensitive to pain. A few days later a man came to me with a dreadful
foot, swelled to almost double its proper size, and it was with great
difficulty that I got the captain to allow him to stay on the boat
instead of tracking (for _one_ day), as he would have forfeited his
wages for the whole trip if he were unable to fulfil his duty on a
single occasion.
At intervals we passed small hamlets, and boats came alongside with
various eatables, or charcoal, for sale. Half a pig was eyed most
longingly by the men, and eventually they secured the head for a
ridiculously small number of cash--exactly how many farthings they
paid I could not see. Five pomeloes were to be had for one farthing
apiece, and the cook was glad to get a fresh supply of charcoal. He
spends the livelong day in his well--I do not know how else to describe
it--with only his head and shoulders above the level of the deck. Close
at hand is the drum on which it is his duty to beat instructions to
the trackers when they are ashore. He is a most attractive subject for
sketching, but is never still a moment except when he takes a nap,
and then his head also disappears into the well, and he curls up, so
that only his toes are visible. In my little sketch of him enjoying
the fruits of his labour his long nails look like talons, and this is
invariably the case when the nails are allowed to grow long: they are
singularly repulsive, and the long silver nail-sheaths used by the
gentry to conceal them are to be commended.
The days on the river slipped by very quickly, as there is always
something fresh to watch, and if not rapids to go up every day, at all
events there are difficult bits of navigation, and a certain anxiety
attends the rounding of corners, when the current twists round with
a threatening snarl. The picturesque villages make one long to stop
and sketch, but one has to be content instead to try and jot down
notes while passing alongside them. The accompanying sketch shows a
typical one: the red flag was in honour of a royal birthday. A similar
village is Kweichow (Hupeh), quite near the big town of Kweichow
Fu (Szechwan). It lies along the high bank, and the lofty city wall
extends in a sort of wide semi-circle up the bank above it, enclosing
quite a large space of cultivated ground on the upper side of the town.
The gates are closed at night, and no one can go in or out after the
keys have been carried to the magistrate’s yamen.
[Illustration: THE LOOK-OUT ON THE YANGTZE]
On the ninth day after leaving Ichang we came to a village which in
the distance we took to be on fire, owing to the dense clouds of
smoke rising from it. It proved, however, to be one of the famous
salt-springs, and had only emerged from the river-bed about a week
earlier, owing to the fall of the water. The people had at once set
to work erecting huts alongside it, and preparing the salt for use;
and they live there till the spring, when the rise of the river drives
them up the bank again. These salt-springs are one of the most valuable
products of the province, but the principal ones are nearer the centre
of Szechwan, and they are all a Government monopoly. Dr. Macgowan
states--as an illustration of the extraordinary patient perseverance
of the Chinaman--that it takes forty years in some cases to bore a
salt-well.
Close to this village is the picturesque city of Kweichow Fu, extending
some distance along the river-bank, with temples and palaces, and a
Union Jack flying over a mission-house, which rises high above the city
wall. The steep slope below it, from which the river had so recently
subsided, was already ploughed ready for a crop of corn. The Chinese
seem always on the watch to use every inch of ground available for
cultivation: they never seem to lose an opportunity, or to grudge
any amount of trouble. We climbed up the bank and a flight of steps,
leading through a lofty gateway into the town. The streets were narrow
and dirty, and thronged with people; but we turned aside to the
attractive Union Jack, where we met with a warm welcome, even before
we announced that we were bringing up belated stores from down the
river. We set out almost immediately to visit an interesting palace,
belonging to an Earl who had become famous during the Taiping war--a
case of “la carrière ouverte aux talents.” The façade and walls of the
palace were curiously decorated with mosaic, formed from broken bits of
pottery. There are shops for the purchase and sale of broken china and
earthenware for this express purpose.
On entering the courtyard we saw handsome square gilt tablets--the gift
of the Emperor to the late Earl--which were set up corner-wise over the
entrance to an inner courtyard. At the farther end of this second court
was a sort of reception-room, entirely open in front, containing chairs
and tables and other beautiful furniture from Canton, a series of
family portraits, and an ancestral tablet, with incense sticks burning
in front of it. On either side of this room were doors leading into the
living-rooms of the family. We wandered through side courts into the
spacious garden, laid out in true Chinese style, with little stucco
fountains and pools and streams, and many summer-houses, all furnished
with couches for the guests attending opium-smoking parties. There were
many kinds of shrubs and trees, some brought from long distances; also
pomelo and orange trees laden with fruit. A beautiful oblong tank was
full of lotos plants, and had a tiny boat on it; but over everything
brooded the sadness of decay and the memory of a departed glory.
As we stood talking to the brilliantly dressed daughters of the house,
a young cousin came in, who spoke excellent English, having been
trained at St. John’s College, Shanghai, and he proved to be a friend
of Mr. Ku’s. He offered to take us round to his father’s palace, which
was close by. It is built on exactly the same plan, and was in every
way similar to the other; but we noticed one curious object in the
reception-room--a large rough stone behind a screen under the ancestral
tablet. This, he told us, was a stone used for divination in time of
war, and above it was a most curious diagram hanging on the wall,
representing men riding on tigers (= soldiers). There was also a scroll
hanging on the opposite wall, given to the family by the Emperor after
the death of the young man’s father, recording the eminent deeds which
he had performed. Among the curios which he showed us were some wooden
ornaments formed out of little shrubs, which had been trained to grow
into peculiar shapes, such as a lion, an old man, &c.; these are
particularly admired by the Chinese. Some parts of the decorations
were quite charming in colour and in design, as for instance the
double doors, decorated with golden bats on a dark-green background,
and the gargoyles, formed like fishes, carved in stone. Altogether
it was a fascinating place and a worthy setting to the courtly
gentleman, who entertained us hospitably and took us round with his
son. Unfortunately, his English was almost as limited as our Chinese. I
should have very much liked to do his portrait, but dusk was coming on
and we were leaving early next morning.
Two rather dreary days succeeded, as there was a west wind blowing,
which took all the colour out of the landscape, just as an east wind
does at home, and at the same time it added colour to one’s temper.
There is really much sense in the old French law, which prescribed
special leniency of judgment in the case of murder and suicide
committed when the mistral was blowing. Sketching was out of the
question, and the poor trackers had a hard time--no rest all day long,
for the wind was blowing dead in our teeth. We laboriously won our way
up some small rapids, but nothing important was gained and we travelled
very slowly.
The last rapid before Wanhsien is the worst, and as usual we got out,
despite the reassuring news that, owing to the considerable fall in
the level of the water, we should have an easy ascent. Our luggage
was hastily transferred to the red-boat--as we imagined, to be taken
ashore as usual--and we then landed, to allow our boat to start at
once, for there were no other boats waiting ahead of us. The red-boat
men, however, got some of our men to help them, and started first. We
stood on a rock watching her come bravely through the flood, and were
in the very act of photographing her, when she seemed to stagger, the
men gave a great shout, dropped the towing-rope, the water dashed over
her, and she was whirled down the stream like an utterly helpless log.
We were horrified to see her carried down and out of sight round a
bend, and the thought of our luggage added not a little, I must admit,
to our dismay. It was some time before the two men on board succeeded
in getting her to the bank, for the large steering-oar in front had
snapped, which was the cause of the disaster. Hence the shout to the
men to loose the towing-rope, or she would have gone on the rocks.
About an hour later the men came back to us, carrying our luggage,
which was none the worse for the wetting; but they told us it would be
impossible for them to accompany us any farther, as it would take some
time to repair the damage. We regretfully took leave of them, as the
men had quite endeared themselves to us by the kindness and courtesy
with which they were always on the alert to render us small services.
Only the night previous our men were noisy and quarrelsome, and I was
obliged to remonstrate sharply. At once the red-boat captain came to
my assistance, and restored peace instantaneously. I wrote a note of
thanks to the general at Ichang for the captain to give him, with our
visiting-cards, when he reported himself on his arrival. I also gave
visiting-cards to the captain for himself, as nothing seems to please a
Chinaman more than this small courtesy, together with a lump of silver
to be divided with his crew, and he received them with a beaming smile
and a military salute.
After the accident we strolled along the bank for some distance,
waiting for our junk to come up, and were much amused by inspecting
a river-bank village. The whole of it is built of the most flimsy
materials, and put together so lightly that it can be taken down and
moved to another spot at the shortest possible notice, according to the
height of the river. Even the god’s shrine is thoroughly perambulatory,
and is dedicated to the god of the earth. Many of the shanties are
lofty erections, but the walls and roofs consist entirely of mats hung
on to poles, which are merely tied together and stuck into the ground.
There was quite a good village street, containing a barber’s shop, a
butcher’s, a draper’s (where most attractive wadded quilts made quite a
goodly show), a chemist’s, greengrocer’s, &c.
There were several delightful restaurants, with pretty bowls and natty
cooking arrangements, which made us long to purchase and experiment
with them instead of using our primitive stove, where my bread refused
to rise, though I never failed with it at home. So far, it can only be
considered successful for making poultices, but we eat a little of
it daily, as there is no sort of bread which we should find palatable
in this part of the empire. The counters of the restaurants had many
tempting dainties displayed upon them, especially tiny saucers full of
relishes; among them we saw several Escoffier sauce bottles, but no
doubt the original contents had disappeared long ago!
[Illustration: RIVER-SIDE SHRINE]
[Illustration: THE CHEF ON THE YANGTZE]
The women of the place seemed nice and friendly and clean, and were
dressed in the gayest colours of the rainbow; green, scarlet, blue, and
black was quite an ordinary combination on one person. They wear tight
wadded trousers to just below the knee, and from there to the ankle
the leg is neatly bound. Often the legs are very thin, and look like
sticks, while the out-turned tiny feet and stiff knees all combine to
give the appearance of goats’ legs. While I was sketching the little
shrine one came and stood beside it, with a very evident desire to
be included in the sketch. I at once took advantage of this unusual
occurrence--they generally flee directly they see I am doing them--but
as the spectators laughed at her, she kept folding her arms across her
face. She had a large basket on her back, and many women carry their
babies in this way.
As one gets farther west the climate changes--growing milder--and the
vegetation is different. Beautiful groups of bamboos are frequently
seen, and crops of sugar-cane in patches of vivid green suggest the
month of May rather than December. You reach the native home of
oranges, and they seem to have a better flavour than anywhere else.
Mr. Ku came to me with a long face one day, to say that he had been
told that the natives of Szechwan were barbarians, “and do you not
think that Liu and I had better wear suits of uniform?” We had no
hesitation as to the answer--a decided veto, having already discussed
the question of carrying firearms, many of our friends having strongly
urged us to do it. I am more than ever convinced that it is apt to
lead to trouble, rather than avert it, and that it is safer to have
none, especially when you have not been thoroughly trained in the use
of them. My friend suggested that if you shot one Chinaman there would
be ten to kill you, and a smile would be at least as efficacious as a
revolver.
The last part of our river journey was rather disturbing, owing to
our twice dashing upon the rocks; but happily no serious damage was
done, and we had an excellent opportunity of seeing how these people
set about repairs. The water was coming in rather fast under the floor
of our cabin, so the carpenter took up the boards, baled out the
superfluous water, and stuffed the hole with cotton wadding, which he
extracted from his winter coat. This he adjusted neatly in the hole by
means of his chopstick, and finally put a plaster over it, composed of
the sole of an old shoe, which he tore up for the purpose, and nailed
it over the spot. A good deal of baling had to be done, and no sooner
was order restored in the cabin than we had a second collision, and
the flooring had to be taken up again to see if there was any fresh
mischief. Happily there was none.
Two sets of our friends have each been wrecked three times this
season on their way up the river, and on one occasion the boat broke
completely in half. Every one hastened to save what they could, except
a Chinaman, who was observed busily washing his clothes with the soap
that was oozing out of one of the cases of stores! No goods are worth
insuring on the Yangtze, as the insurance rates are so high, and it
is so difficult--often impossible--to prove what has been lost. In
the case when the boat was a total wreck, our friends were obliged to
encamp for a week on the river-bank in a hut which they constructed
out of their stores and luggage, with the sail of the boat spread over
the top by way of roof--a somewhat ineffectual one when the rain came
pouring down.
The river-banks are studded with temples, pagodas, and shrines, and
the people in this part of the country are far more assiduous in their
worship than anywhere else: we continually noticed them offering
incense or paper money to the gods. The temples are less interesting
than in the north, and ugly in colour, mostly a cold grey ornamented
with black and white, and they are also less artistic architecturally.
On the fourteenth day we reached Wanhsien, whence we had decided to
travel overland, though we were sorry to miss seeing the celebrated
salt-wells, which we should have passed if we had taken the other
more frequented route to Chengtu. We regretfully said good-bye to our
boatmen, and made the eighteen men thoroughly happy and content with a
gratuity of 7s. to be divided amongst them. We notice that the Chinese
always seem more pleased and satisfied when they get the usual tip than
when they get more. Wanhsien looked doubly attractive to us from the
fact that we saw a British gunboat lying on the farther side of the
river, but in itself the town is eminently picturesque, though dirty.
A camel-back bridge, spanning a stream just before it entered the
Yangtze, was perhaps the prettiest bit of all. Below it were endless
yards of cotton hanging out to dry, after being dyed. This was a sight
with which we soon became familiar, passing through many a village
where the main street was draped in this way.
[Illustration: CAMEL-BACK BRIDGE]