STEAMER EMPRESS OF JAPAN,
YELLOW SEA, October 4, 1895.
Seated at the table with the first officer, who proves most loquacious
and intelligent, we discuss the "Prince of Wales," the English rule in
foreign lands and the works of George D. Curzon, a man of great
expectations and great possibilities. He loaned me "Problems of the Far
East," which I found most entertaining, clear and authentic. On my left
are seated Dr. and Mrs. Ashmore. The former has been forty-five years in
the missionary field in China. Mrs. Ashmore, as Mrs. Brown, was the
founder of the "Mary Colby Seminary" at Yokohama, afterwards removing to
China with her second husband. One of her daughters married Mr. Curtis,
editor of a Kobe paper, the other, Mr. McCarty, a transportation
merchant of Yokohama. Mrs. Ashmore expressed her views freely regarding
the Dobisha school in Kiota. The great extravagance in building and in
furnishing the university had forced it to the verge of bankruptcy. Dr.
and Mrs. Ashmore labor under the Baptist auspices, and both feel that
the most encouragement is offered the missionary in China rather than
Japan. The conversion of the Chinese was far more permanent when once
accomplished than that of the Japanese; they were more truthful and with
less varnish. We have on board Isabella Bird Bishop, gray-haired and
with mild blue eyes, rather below the average height of woman. She
writes so much in favor of Japan that the freedom of the hotels is
offered her. After the third day of smooth sailing we anchor in the
Yang-tse-kiang, as one writer says, "a stream of lofty dignity of
conscious might." Broken short ridges of mountains are seen from a
distance, with valleys and plains interspersed. The great plain lying on
the sea coast is alluvial, made so by the deposit of the Hoang-Ho and
the Yang-tse-kiang (Broad River) combined. The former river often bursts
its confines, causing great destruction to life and property. The mouth
of the Yang-tse-kiang to-day is far removed from where it was many years
ago. The Hoang-Ho is for the greater part of the year unnavigable, owing
to floods during the summer months, the disasters being so great it is
sometimes called the "Chinese sorrow." Fish abound and is the flesh food
of the average Chinaman, although pork is his delight. The mode of
fishing is varied; often men and boys dive for them, but the more
entertaining method is by the cormorant. A dozen or more of these
trained birds are perched on a bamboo pole across the bow of a boat, but
before diving, a cord is placed around their throat to prevent them
from swallowing their prey, and they rarely fail to bring up one or
more fish. Their eagerness for success is most noticeable, and they are
rewarded after having satisfied their owner, by being given some of the
small fry. Our steamer anchored fifteen miles off of Shanghai, and our
heavily freighted tender was two hours reaching land. The harbor was
filled with bright colored sailing vessels, junks and sampans,
stern-wheel kickaway and chop boats; also the bateaux of the "Tanka"
girls who work the ferries. The form of the natural eye painted on these
vessels is most apparent; the reason for so doing is, the Chinese will
reply, "No eye, no see."
We at once contrast the well-built and improved bund which skirts the
water's edge with the less pretentious Japanese ports. It is not until
we enter the Chinese quarters, with its low dwellings and apparent
squalor, that we realize what the English concessions are to the
traveler. The dress of the Chinese is refreshing to the eye after our
sojourn in Japan, where among the coolies little was left to the
imagination.
The drive to the "Bubbling-Well," a square enclosure of stone some eight
feet in dimension, reveals a spring of water whose surface was green
with slime, from which issued two clear streams of pure crystal fluid.
Well-dressed, painted Chinese women, guarded by eunuchs, drive in
landaus along this fashionable drive, which leads to club houses and
well laid out grounds. The tiny feet of the women as they peep out from
under the richly embroidered gowns assured us that navigation to them on
foot was almost impossible. This process of deformity is begun about the
sixth year of their lives and rarely fully accomplished before the
seventeenth. The suffering is said to be intense. Government has in many
provinces interfered, and as civilization advances it is to be hoped
this cruelty will be abolished. A missionary told me, in appealing to
the Chinese, "to desist from this vain and sinful habit, they would at
once retaliate by replying, 'Why do American or European women deform
their waists?'" The rough, uncultivated fields attached to the homes
along the drives we are told are burial places of their dead. Mere
hillocks of earth, so scant as to allow the caskets to be seen plainly,
and oftimes skeletons protrude. Do you wonder that epidemics prevail?
The warning is constantly given the travelers to keep away from native
quarters, but curiosity leads us into temptation. Warehouses,
manufactories, shops, theaters, dwellings and temples are crowded
together; the streets offensive and disgusting. The shops for silks in
the English concession are most fascinating. Beauty of coloring and
quality, with most unique designs, are offered at such low prices that
one must have great control over herself to resist buying in quantities.
The better class of Chinese are most elaborately gowned in these gold
embroidered textures--far more costly than the simple embroidered
kimonas of the Japanese. The absence of jewelry in the latter makes the
love of it with the Chinese most conspicuous. Anklets, imitation of jade
and silver bangles are always in evidence.
Jugglers throng the piazzas of the hotel, and for a trifling
compensation will swallow a sword three feet long which he flaunts
before our eyes and which disappears to all appearances down his throat
with great strangling; this we do not ask him to repeat.
A charming sail of three days brought us into the harbor of Hongkong.
The city is built on the mountainside; a narrow strip along the water's
edge is laid out in a fine driveway, warehouses, hotels and club houses
facing the water. The dwellings, with beautiful gardens attached, are
built upon the terraces of the mountains, which can only be reached in
sedan chairs, borne by coolies. The botanical gardens are most
attractive and are within walking distance of the hotel. Alongside of
these gardens is the St. John's Cathedral, in Gothic style of
architecture. The clock tower is a conspicuous building from which all
local distances are measured. On the summit of the mountain overlooking
the city is Victoria Gap. An inclined railway, worked by means of cable
to an elevation of fourteen hundred feet, leads to it. It cost the city
140,000 Mexican dollars, and pays about five per cent on the investment.
The round trip is fifty cents. The views are grand in extent, but it
requires considerable nerve to face the apparent danger. However, we
find ourselves on the summit in an incredibly brief space of time. The
ten square miles of harbor is spread out before you with its myriads of
vessels and floating hospitals. The enjoyment of this scene quite repays
one for the undertaking. Queen's road (the principal street of Hongkong)
runs parallel with the water; from this street, running toward the
mountain, the grade is uphill. We ascend stone steps, twenty to thirty
in number, to reach the street beyond; consequently we do not frequent
them often. Flowers are in profusion for sale and most artistically
arranged. The drive to the "Happy Valley," the burial place of the
European, Parsees and Mahometans, each within their own walls, is indeed
aptly named. We were preceded by two sedan chairs borne by four coolies,
each dressed in red kilted skirts and white turbans. The occupants were
two small boys, eight and ten years of age, with their amia, or nurses,
who bore quantities of lovely flowers. On alighting we followed them to
two freshly made graves; from these the boys removed decayed flowers and
placed most lavishly those they had brought with them. It was a touching
sight. We imagined the parents had been the victims of a scourge that
was still hovering over the city. It is a trying climate. The American
consul, Mr. Hunt, from Tennessee, called upon us, and we returned the
visit at his home, nestled among the palm trees and alongside the
botanical gardens. His family were feeling the effect of their
protracted sojourn here and yearned for a change.
The distance from Hongkong to Canton is ninety-five miles by the river.
We were somewhat surprised to find the captain of our vessel from
Prairie du Chien, Wis., whose family was still residing there. It is
said that a population of 300,000 people live in boats upon these waters
and have no other home. With the baby on her back the mother swings the
heavy scull, while the other children act as ducks in the water, some
being tethered to the vessel, apparently without any sense of danger. At
the slightest indication that one of these boats are needed, fifty or
more will rush to the spot, clambering in loud voices for their rights;
while the wonder is that the baby's head does not roll off of its
shoulders. The mother is seemingly indifferent as to its existence.
Along the shores of the river are rice fields and orchards, interspersed
with pagodas, which from a distance look like hanging gardens. Chance
wind bears sand and seed to these overhanging roofs, and shrubs and
flowers grow and bloom. Whampun and Homan, two lofty pagodas, made
famous by their age and height, are seen from the steamer, and an
occasional dead body of a Chinaman floats by us. As we near the landing
of Canton small boats filled with lepers come alongside soliciting alms.
They are most pitiful in appearance and, judging from the coins thrown
them, it is the only means of their maintenance.
Guides are in waiting at the steamer's wharf, and we only feel safe when
protected by them. Six chairs with four men each, made up our van. Mr.
Wilder, of Honolulu, had joined us. These coolies groan as they trot
along. With the thermometer about 80 and no clothing save the loin
cloth, they stop only long enough to change the pole from one shoulder
to the other, which are lacerated and in great welts. If it were not for
the novel sights that meet the eye the sympathy aroused would be too
trying for the traveler. Canton is called the "City of Rams," or the
"City of the Genii." These names are derived from the supposed visit of
fire-protecting spirits that came from heaven two thousand years ago. It
is the chief trading city of southern China. Foreigners first visited
here in the eighth century. In 1568 the Portuguese were in China, and in
1615 the Tartars invaded it. We passed through what is known as the
Tartar town; it was neater and cleaner than the other quarters. Later
the East India Company took possession and for a century and a half
controlled the foreign trade. The British invaded the city of Canton in
1841 and took possession, but the ransom of six million was made for its
redemption. Again in 1857 the allied forces of British and French
captured it, and for nearly four years it was in the hands of
foreigners, its government being administered by a joint commission. It
has now its European concession. Canton is a typical Chinese city, the
contracted streets, not exceeding six feet in width except in spaces
where some official residence or temple is built. It is with great
difficulty we make any headway through these narrow lanes, and are often
compelled to leave our chairs and with our guide pursue our way on foot.
If by chance a shop is entered a gaping crowd so surrounds you that you
are not only in danger of being robbed, but of losing your guide. The
foreign quarters are separated from the mainland by a stream of water
connected by two bridges. A wall encircles the native quarter and the
gates are closed at night and guarded; the discharge of firecrackers in
the early morning announce their opening, and from the river boats
another discharge, almost deafening, which is supposed to keen them from
the "evil one" through the day.
The Temples of Confucius, Buddha and Shinto religions are much alike in
their construction. One of the most famous of these is that of the five
hundred Genii, founded in five hundred, the year of our Lord, and was
rebuilt forty years ago. In the midst of these immortal five hundred
images is that of "Marco Polo," who visited here in the twelfth century.
The Temple of Horrors, whose tableaux in brass and wood represent the
punishments meted out to those in Buddha's purgatory, boiling the
culprit in oil, or grinding him in a mill, or still worse, to place him
in an upright position between two planks of wood and then sawing him in
pieces--all these pleasant reminders are heightened by the
reincarnation against the will of a man's soul into that of a wild
beast, destined to another life here on earth, which is too realistic to
dwell upon.
The Examination Hall, where all males from eighteen to eighty years of
age may compete for honors, is well worth a visit. Stalls are built for
12,000 students, in which are placed a table and chair. Once the man is
seated there is no release for three days. A strict watch is kept to
prevent any communication; even if a death occurs a hole must be knocked
in the surrounding wall to transport the body, for under no
circumstances are the gates opened during the trial. A subject for an
essay is given, and each applicant is forced to render an example of his
ability. Less than two score of these receive degrees, and from this
examination they go to a higher court in Pekin and there high honors
await them in official positions. No caste is observed. The water clock,
built five hundred years ago, is composed of three copper vessels placed
on top of each other with an indicator in the lower one. The passing of
time is indicated by the raising of the water in this lower one, into
which trickles the same fluid from those above. The prisons seemed
crowded; the inmates were chained to stones or bars of iron, all
apparently in one large hall, separated from the spectators by upright
bars of iron. When we approached they made a rush toward us as well as
their heavily burdened limbs would allow, and begged for money with
which their freedom could be bought. The yoke some wore was most
torturing. I could think only of Dante's inferno. The execution grounds
was a most grewsome place, about twenty-five feet long and ten or twelve
feet wide, used daily for drying and storing pottery. The prisoner was
made to kneel, bowing his head, while the executioner's ax did the work.
We saw a head which had been decapitated before our arrival. From the
wall of Canton we could see mountainsides, which seemed to be one vast
number of graves, whose entrance were in the form of a horseshoe. In the
city is a building they call the "Old Man's Paradise." It is kept up by
the wealthy class. The remains of the male dead can be left here for
five years, incased in a huge lacquered wood coffin, costing $1,500.
Under it is placed plates of lime to prevent white ants from destroying
the wood. Before the coffin is a drop curtain to shield it from the gaze
of the passer by, in front of which is an altar decked with tinselled
flowers; beside this is an empty chair, around which are grouped wooden
images supposed to be the servants of the departed master waiting his
return, with rice and tea prepared and placed near by. A couch for a
servant who guarded the body was occupied each night. The place was
rather attractive than otherwise. We lunched upon the walls of Canton in
a deserted building, but old with memories. We visited some shops where
the crepe, for which the manufactory is noted, can be found in almost
all colors, some beautifully embroidered, for moderate prices. The
markets are disgusting with the skinned rats and bloody fish which are
offered for sale, and a few days' sojourn amidst such surroundings
satisfies the traveler.
On our return to Hongkong (the port from which we sailed) the sight of
the French steamer "Melbourne," which was to bear us on our journey, was
an agreeable vision, although on that line of steamers little is done
for the pleasure of the passengers. We took on at Saigon the Governor of
Siberia, his wife and secretary; also the Siberian Minister to China,
with his wife, with many Russians. The ladies of the party were
handsome, and often regaled us with their beautiful voices. A Japanese
colonel, who had by his feats of bravery made himself famous, sat at my
right at the table, and it was with great interest I listened to him
telling of his trip on horseback from Russia on the Trans-Siberian line
to China, which took seventeen months to accomplish, with the use of
three horses. The extreme cold of Siberia, 45 degrees below zero, with
those sluggish people, made the days he spent with them most memorable.
He averaged twenty-five miles a day, traveling through grand forests,
and, as daylight continued till midnight, he was enabled to travel much
at night during the summer months. He was in the employ of the Japanese
government. We afterward met him at Cairo. Two days out from Hongkong
(Oct. 19, 1895) we skirted the Island of Hainan, which is separated from
the mainland of China by the Gulf of Tonquin, and passing the Empire of
Anan we enter the St. James River, eight degrees north of the
equator--Far. 83. The river in width is about forty rods, the banks of
which on either side are covered with dense jungles. The mango and
banana tree were strangely intermingled with vines covered with flowers,
while groups of monkeys keep up a perpetual chatter and bright plumed
parrots were seen at every turn, to say nothing of the wild boar that
were hid among the jungles. The low thatched huts along the shore,
surrounded by the waving palm tree, looked rather attractive at a
distance. The dress of the Coachin-Chinamen consists of long, loose
flowing trousers, with a black or white robe falling from the shoulders,
and a red or white turban on their heads. The heat at Saigon in October
was oppressive, and we were advised to keep aboard the vessel till late
in the evening. Our ride to the botanical gardens over smooth roads of
red clay in the jinrikisha, with a bright turbaned coolie, was most
picturesque amid the perfection of tropical growth of plants and trees.
Convoys of storks, plumed golden pheasants, the Coachin China chickens,
cages of monkeys, leopards and bears all amuse and entertain the
traveler. Saigon is a French concession and has at least 100,000
inhabitants. Late in the afternoon the Governor General of Coachin China
boarded the vessel with his son. Citizens in their white duck suits and
pith helmets and soldiers escorted him to the steamer in their bright
uniforms with great ceremony to bid him bon voyage to France to
negotiate a loan in behalf of a projected railroad. The governor wore
the decoration of the Legion of Honor and was most dignified in his
bearing.
A smooth sea and fair breeze made the next two days and a half fairly
enjoyable, but the heat was overpowering at times; the nights were spent
by many on deck, where the firmament could be enjoyed, as the Southern
Cross was seen in its great beauty. Singapore, the next stopping place,
afforded us a fine drive in a chariot through the country. These
vehicles seat comfortably four persons, a charioteer, who drove, and an
outrider seated behind. Their turkey-red calico sacques, with a white
cheese cloth skirt and high red turban, gave them a showy appearance,
while the diminutive animal which drew us in the most submissive fashion
plodded his way over the well-rolled roads of red clay. The tropical
growth of trees and shrubbery almost hid from view the bungalows of the
better class of people. These buildings were one story in height,
surrounded by wide verandas, the roofs of which were thatched with huge
palm leaves, while the bamboo split in two formed excellent gutters to
convey the water to the ground. Dates hung in profusion upon the trees
alongside of the road, and bananas half as long as your arm were offered
you, the taste of which is very unlike ours. The palm and rubber trees
grow like the forest trees in our own land. The red and white arbiscus,
running wild over trees and house, with the ox-eyed daisy, almost as
large as the sunflower, and the marigold, which is the flower that the
Indian idolater uses in his worship, grows in profusion here. The
abundant moisture from frequent showers, followed by a blazing sunshine,
produces that tropical luxuriance for which this portion of the Orient
is celebrated. To sit upon the steamer's deck at early dawn one sees
close to the horizon in the north the Pole Star, in the south a few
degrees higher the constellation of the southern cross is in full view,
while on land the scene of the greatest activity is at this hour. The
rude cart, drawn by cream-colored, humped-back, reversed-horn cattle,
driven by a coal-black Tamil in a bright red turban and perhaps a loin
cloth, lends interest to the picture, and the superb shoulders of the
natives are well exhibited, as they unload from barges drawn close to
the steamer's side huge sacks of coal, which they heave to one another
till they reach the hold of the vessel. This is performed mostly by
women with a weird chant of "heave ho" that seems to render the task
less irksome.
Singapore was purchased by the British. It is the greatest tin producing
country in the world. Sago is grown in quantities and shipped to every
port; it is the pith of the tree trunk. Here the gum of the rubber tree
is gathered and dried in chunks, placed in gunny bags and sent to all
quarters of the globe in the crude state. The rattan, which is
elaborately woven by the natives into chairs and other useful pieces of
furniture, is light in weight and capable of great endurance. The tree
grows like a palm to a great height, throwing above ground long tendrils
extending a half mile. These are cut in lengths of thirty feet, soaked,
scraped and ready for use. The indigo bush is cut and dried, then
boiled, the sediment forming the dry substance exported. Tea is also
cultivated successfully. Mangoes, yellow as pumpkins, in shape of pears,
with disagreeable flavor, but most in favor with the natives, as well as
the children of adoption, are the Dorean fruits, with custard-like
contents, offensive to the smell, but agreeable to the taste. The
business portion of the city is substantially built, but we were told
that the use of opium, like the Upas tree, casts a blight on this fair
country and its inhabitants. We invited a missionary to dine on the
steamer with us. He conducted a boys' school of 600 pupils. The building
cost $20,000, built by local contributions of the English and Chinese.
They practice the Salvation Army methods in gathering audiences for
Bible instruction, and those who accepted Christianity closely adhered
to their vows.
We now enter the straits of Malacca, as smooth as a river, but clouds
and showers render the atmosphere low and depressing. We meet on the
steamer those who have spent years in this climate. A lady from Holland
told me that it was so exhausting that life was almost unendurable. She
spoke of the Queen of Holland, the young "Wilhelmina," and of her
mother, the Dowager Queen Emma, now acting as regent. She was the second
wife of King William of Holland, and had this only daughter. He had
three sons by his first wife, all deceased. This present widow was a
German princess, and at this time (1895) was thirty-four years old and
her daughter fifteen. It was very evident from the conversation of this
Holland lady that Germans were in disrepute with her people--the Holland
Dutch. From the straits we run into the Indian Ocean, "with a wet sheet
and a flowing sea, and a wind that follows fast." To forget the swell I
take up a sensational novel, "The Old Love and the New," but that
influence is not enough to drive away mal de mer, that soon gets the
better of the passengers and drives us to our cabins. Four days of
sailing brings us to Ceylon's shores, where we fail to catch the spicy
breezes of which we have so often sung. We are on deck early to realize
the descriptions given of the southern coast of this island, then turn
northward and round into the harbor of Colombo. The hotels and
government buildings are located along the quay. The forest of cocoanut
palms and the lofty peaks of the mountain form an impressive background.
Ceylon is two-thirds as large as Ireland and is in possession of the
English. Some English writer has said "that in the train of England's
conquests comes the broadest, wisest and most tolerant statesmanship the
world has ever witnessed. To be humbled by her is to be exalted by
her." There seemed a good feeling between the natives and their rulers.
The Oriental Hotel swarms with people of all nations. Breakfast is
served in your room, consisting of coffee, toast, fruit and sweets.
Luncheon is a hasty meal, but dinner to the foreigner, served at 7 or 8
p. m., seems thoroughly enjoyable. The Englishman, dressed in black
trousers, broad sash-belts of black or red silk, which seems to make
more pronounced the smooth shirt bosom, with a spotless white
pea-jacket, forms a refreshing costume. Ladies almost invariably are in
low-neck black dresses, with a broad piece of white lace which droops
gracefully as a bertha, with bright flowers in their hair, while a band
of stringed instruments makes the scene enlivening. The broad arcade
from which you enter the dining hall is after dinner filled to
overflowing with guests seated around small tables, where brandy and
coffee is served, and is the harvest time of the tradesmen, who are
allowed to spread before you their embroideries, laces, jewels and
baskets of curious workmanship and bright colors, together with
elephants of ebony and ivory. Close to the entrance of the hotel are
jugglers with their baskets of cobras, whose poisonous fangs have been
extracted; together with the dwarfed trees which miraculously grow
before your eyes, and divers tricks are performed to entertain the
stranger and to earn for themselves a scant livelihood. The Singhalese
and Tamil women, men and children, whose features seemed carved in
ebony, are of the Aryan race--so different from the Mongol Malay race.
It is amusing when riding to be followed by the native children crying
"No papa, no mamma, no rice." And when these claims are recognized they
laugh immoderately and wait for other persons to attack with the same
pathetic appeal. A drive to the Cinnamon garden, in the midst of which
is a fine museum with a rare collection of sea urchins; these fasten
themselves to a rock, in which with their black, stiff, cigar-shaped
feelers they dig a cell, resembling machine work so accurate are they in
their measurement to fit their bodies. Here we are shown the original
tooth of Buddha, which looks more like a small tusk of an elephant. This
is placed under a glass cover; the sea-horse suckling its young, the
myriads of birds, besides every wild beast of the forest are finely
preserved. The bungalows of more wealthy inhabitants are built along
these beautiful drives, and are almost concealed by the dense foliage,
and must necessarily be damp, as the sun's rays can scarcely enter. We
are offered neatly bound bunches of camphor wood and cinnamon by
children on the road, but which have little aroma left. The men are
athletic in appearance, erect and graceful, hair black and curly. The
Singhalese wear a circular shell comb to confine their glossy curls. The
men are semi-clad; the women wear low-neck corset covers with an ample
strip of cloth that is pinned around the body for a skirt, which shows
the ankles with their silver anklets, while the black neck and arms are
adorned with gilt beads and bangles, the nose and lobes of the ear being
pierced and fairly weighed down with jeweled rings. The deformity is
appalling among the lower class; their only compensation is that the
stranger never passes them by without bestowing some gift, denoting
their sympathy. We are in Ceylon in the tail end of a monsoon (October
30). Such sheets of water, deluging alike streets and people, are
scarcely heeded--so soon do the sun's rays dry up the roads. We take a
cart drawn by two bullocks, goaded by a small boy, who sits on the yoke
and so close to the animals that one can scarcely detect his mode of
thrusting a sharp steel instrument into the body to make them move, but
this is his great incentive, as he easily could outwalk them; it is the
novelty that attracts, not the speed. We are landed close by the market,
where all fish, fowl and vegetables are sold. We purchase a bunch of
Betel leaves, neatly piled one upon the other. The nut of the same bush
is cut into small pieces, mixed with a teaspoonful of slackened lime,
and a little tobacco or more often opium. This mixture laid upon a leaf
is rolled and we are asked to try it. We give that pleasure to our small
boy or guide. One of these leaves will be material enough for two or
three hours' pleasure, and the coolie is seldom seen without this
delectable morsel in his mouth. He seldom expectorates but seems to
swallow the fluid, which is like red ink in color; the habit is most
disgusting, but assuages hunger.
We frequently see on the children's naked body a cord around the loins.
The placing of this is a religious ceremony, with a religious
signification. The drive along the beach is grand, and the roads smooth.
The crowds of English and Australians taking their evening outing,
cheered by the music of the military band and stimulated by the dashing
of the breakers on the sea-girt shore add to the pleasure. If you are
walking you are waylaid at every step by some drummer who represents his
own or the shop of some one whose jewels are displayed in the greatest
profusion. Sapphires, diamonds, rubies and pearls and other stones are
shown the customer until the eye fairly wearies of the sparkle. If you
decide not to purchase them but to call again, woe be to you if you do
not keep your word, as you are followed and the cry of "Lady, come back,
you promised!" becomes a trifle wearisome.
To visit Kandy, situated eighteen hundred feet above the sea, in the
mountains of the interior of Ceylon, we take passage on a railroad of
marvelous engineering. To quote a traveler's words may give you some
idea of the beauty of the views obtained: "As one skirts the flanks of
the mountains and looks down into an enormous gorge, its sides clad with
the most beautiful and varied foliage of flowers and trees, and on the
level bottom lands can be seen cascades, which are formed by the
artificial lakes that overflow the exquisitely delicate green of the
young rice." Our attention is directed to the Tollipot tree, which
flourishes for sixty years, and blooms just before it dies. The bloom is
at the top of the tree and reminded me of huge bunches of pampas grass.
The distance from Colombo to Kandy is seventy-eight miles. Roundabout
this region live the tea planters with their families. Kandy is a
resort, during the summer season, for the inhabitants of the lowlands,
and is built on the shore of a charming little lake, its banks shaded by
the Tamarind and royal palms. The vine-clad bungalows add to its
attractiveness. Within sight of the hotel is the Malagawa Buddhist
temple, the most sacred of the shrines of Buddhism. We are again shown
an actual tooth of the Deity, two and one-half inches long and one inch
wide.
On the evening of our arrival a great festival was held at the temple.
The procession was headed by eight standard bearers, dressed in full
white skirts, followed by eight more in red costumes. Their waists were
uncovered. They bore aloft flaming torches, followed by the most
fantastically dressed musicians beating drums and dancing in a frantic
manner. Close behind these were the "Devil dancers," four in number,
whose skirts of gay-colored silks were elaborately studded with jewels
and turbans to match. These skirts were so full that when making their
convolutions they looked like inflated balloons. The contortions of
their bodies were painful to witness, and as the reflection from the
torches lit up their faces one could but feel they were aptly named.
Three elephants walked abreast, most gorgeously apparelled, and moved
with a dignity most surprising. They wore jewelled masks, their bodies
enveloped with jewelled mantles, while on the back of the center animal
rested a gilded cage, in which, in a pagoda-shaped vessel, was the
sacred tooth. Following the elephants were more drummers, more Devil
dancers and other elephants, whose huge tusks were incased in gold. Each
animal was closely guarded by his keeper, while riders sat astride in
the most gorgeous-colored skirts and turbans. The chief man of the
temple, representative of the old Kandy kings, rivaled Falstaff in his
appearance. He wore a full white skirt, a large white hat, with a white
mantle or cape thrown over his shoulders. His dignified tread was akin
to that of Jumbo, and was greeted by all along the procession. We were
told he was the banker of the village. During the August festival the
procession is much more impressive, as three hundred elephants are in
line. The festivities ended by a feast at the temple. Along each side of
the entrance the poor of the village sat with their empty vessels, which
were to be filled by those in authority. Buddha was most conspicuous on
the altar of the temple, carved woods and ivories surrounding the image,
where later a dance was performed; but we were too unholy to be
permitted to remain and witness it. A description of the Paradeniza
gardens would be like attempting to picture to one's imagination the
Garden of Eden. The two hundred and fifty varieties of palms, the
bamboo, one hundred feet high and growing in clumps one hundred and
fifty feet in circumference, give some idea of the tropical growth. We
see spicy cinnamon, the chinchona, the upas tree, the latter bearing to
a great height its lofty head, not unlike a palm in growth, with its
bark gray and spotted like a snake. It is not indigenous to the soil,
but comes from Java, where its dense groves are called the "Valley and
Shadow of Death," and when I stood under its shade without knowing the
tree, I will confess a superstitious fear came over me when I was told
by our frightened guide that I was in danger. The candle tree produces a
fruit shaped like a candle, but not edible. The traveler's palm gives
the thirsty traveler a refreshing drink when an incision in the stem of
its leaves is made. Cocaine grows in profusion, while alongside, coffee
and tea plants and nutmegs and other spices grow apace. The Jacqueminot
and La France roses grow to the size of saucers, while the orchids
fasten themselves like grape vines over wooden props, beautiful and
varied in color, and are native to the jungles, brought therefrom and
sold by coolies to the traveler for a pittance. The governor's palace is
beautifully located. From its windows we gaze upon a beautiful river,
while the grounds are watered from the spray of fountains. The palace
was unoccupied and we were permitted to go through its spacious rooms
and halls. The drives all about Kandy are fascinating, and are made more
so by now and then a temple hid almost from sight, but of interest when
visited, while the industrious weaver of straw mats, a yard and a half
in length and a yard wide, meets us along the way, urging us to buy--a
temptation we cannot resist, although we wonder what we shall do with
them when we get them. But adieux must be made to Ceylon, with its spicy
breezes, for the "Steamer Pekin" lies at anchor off Colombo which is to
bear us over 1,300 miles to Calcutta, the voyage only broken by a short
stay at Madras, where a brief visit is long enough, for the heat and
dust are oppressive. We see the juggernaut car lying in disuse on the
roadside under a temporary covering of a palm thatched roof. A most
cumbersome vehicle, the wheels of which are so closely set together that
one can imagine the poor victims over whose body it rolls, could easily
be reduced to powder. Government interferes in its further usage, save
in territories not easily managed. The official buildings are European,
but the homes of the natives are of burnt clay, with no windows--a
small open door reveals its inmates stretched out sleeping, almost
devoured by flies. The filth of the quarter makes it uninviting; the
botanical garden is hardly worth the ride there. We take the only small
vessel in use to carry us back to the steamer awaiting us in this
beautiful Bay of Bengal. The governor's house is lofty in appearance,
the exterior dingy from dust and dirt, but we are told the household
appointments are magnificent, the decorations partly in the oriental and
some of them in European style; servants by the score, hundreds of
coolies who do nothing but keep the Punkas (swinging fans) in motion in
every part of the building by day and night. The natives of Madras are
quite dark in color, with straight hair and regular features, diminutive
in stature, slender forms, with small hands and feet, and have a pensive
look and manner. The deformity among the beggars is revolting, and we
fear to alight from our chariot, lest we may come in contact with these
poor, unfortunate beings. We learn that the wheels of government move
slowly in these oriental countries. If an audience with the governor is
desired, a book is given you in which the name of the solicitor is
registered. At the end of two weeks the governor gives notice that he
will give a public breakfast at the palace, and those who have
registered their names will be received and their requests will be
heard. Time seems not to be considered of any import.
The calm waters of the Bay of Bengal, with its southern breezes, makes
the journey pleasant, as the traveler seeks his extended chair on deck
of the steamer, protected from the scorching sun by its broad awnings.
On entrance to the Hoogly River, a native pilot comes aboard--for here
the ever-moving sands render navigation uncertain and perilous--until
the dangerous sand bars of the James and Mary rivers are passed; every
sailor must be at his post as the steamer wends its way through the
treacherous channel, and each passenger silently congratulates himself
when he is assured the Rubicon is past. The bottom of these rivers is a
vast quicksand. The vessel entering must await the tide. The banks are
low and sandy. Straw thatched huts, shaded by clusters of date palms,
gave a picturesque appearance to the shores, and the tropical growth
grew richer and more dense as we approached Calcutta. The excitement on
arrival of the steamer is intense; custom house officers present
themselves: all baggage is ordered from the cabins on deck, even to the
smallest hand-bag; search is made for fire arms: strict laws regarding
them are enforced, and if you are unfortunate enough to have one in your
possession, as was one of our party, you are quickly relieved of it, and
only by paying as much as the original price, with much red tape, are
you enabled to regain it.