Inside Canton/Chapter 1
INSIDE CANTON.
CHAPTER I.
The discussion of the articles of the treaty between France and the Celestial Empire rendered frequent communications necessary between the French ambassador and the viceroy of the two Kuangs. During these repeated interviews, the two diplomatists contracted a genuine friendship. The agreeable manners and the distinguished attainments of the French representative charmed the Imperial commissioner, and the latter behaved with so much frankness and good-nature, that he gained the esteem and affection of M. de Lagrené. Ki-in, with characteristic nobility, gave no special marks of his consideration and attachment for the emissary of the French Government, until the discussion of diplomatic affairs had been brought to an end. Then, in words full of Chinese atticism, he begged our plenipotentiary to visit the capital of his kingdom, in order to continue, as he said, an acquaintance which had become so agreeable to him. M. de Lagrené accepted this invitation. The Mandarin Pan-se-Chen placed at his disposition one of the houses, or rather one of the palaces, which he possesses at Canton. But the cordial politeness of the mandarins did not cease here; they also invited MM. Barnard d'Harcourt, Callery, and myself to accompany the French minister on his journey.
Chinese customs often expose Europeans, and above all European ladies, to surprises of a very embarrassing nature; for this reason, M. de Lagrené requested the interpreter and the physician of the embassy to precede him, in order to overlook the preparations that were to be made for his reception.
We took our passage on board a faï-ting, and started for Canton five days before M. de Lagrené. The faï-tings, which the English call "fast boats," and the Portuguese lorchas, are excellent vessels, of about fifty tons, well built, good sailers, and doing the same duty that is performed on our coasts by steamers. When we arrived on board, Callery led me to the mainmast.
"Can you read?" he said.
"Why, yes," I replied.
Then, pointing maliciously to an inscription in Chinese, he said, "Well, then, read that."
"The joke is not bad," I said, with a laugh; "but read it yourself, you mongrel Chinaman."
"I will read it, then—‘Take care of your purses.’ Do you understand?"
"Perfectly well. I like tke style of the notice; it is plain, concise, and direct, and moreover it appears called for," I added, casting my eyes upon my travelling companions.
There were forty passengers on board the faï-ting. There were costumes of all kinds: coolies in blue chams and straw hats; sailors in brown chams, with pig-tails twisted round their heads; boys in white chams; students in long flowing robes, wearing on their heads caps like those worn by French abbés, and surmounted by tassels of gold. The commander of the lorcha, dressed like the sailors, came towards us, and told us that our boys had placed our baggage in the general room, where we should find ourselves very comfortable. Indeed, according to the Chinese custom, we had sent on board of this floating omnibus of the Celestial Empire a mattress, a bolster, a mat, and a mosquito curtain.
"But are there not two stern cabins?" inquired Callery.
"Decidedly," said the Chinese; "but they are occupied by two merchants from Nankin."
This positive answer rendered it useless for us to endeavour to obtain private rooms, and we entered the general saloon. This apartment is at the rear of the vessel. It forms a long square, and is furnished with tables, seats without backs, and lanterns suspended from the ceiling. There are two doors, one at each end, and several steps above the lower deck. Over one of the entrances, that of the fore-deck, there is a long inscription, in which the wonderful qualities of the vessel are enumerated—its great quickness, its superior construction, the experience of the captain, and the skilfulness of the sailors. Our boys, like persons who knew their business, had taken possession of two corners, and, by way of avoiding all possible discussion, had arranged our mattresses as if we intended to lie down directly we arrived. We lauded their zeal, and after warning them not to lose sight of our luggage for a single instant, returned to the deck.
This took place towards the end of October, some days after our return from San-Cian, the celebrated island where St. Francis Xavier died three centuries before. The sky was so pure and transparent that it resembled a dome of crystal; the wind was fresh, as the sailors say, and the waves danced joyfully. A squadron of fishing vessels and faï-tings were preparing to depart at the same time; on the right, on the left, before us and behind us, the sound of the gong was heard; then there was a firing of cannons, and we set sail.This is how we started:—Four Chinamen, armed with long poles, thrust them to the bottom of the water, and leaning on them with all their weight, caused the rounded belly of the vessel to glide through the liquid mud. When it was afloat, a sailor hung, fastened to the end of a stick, a long chaplet of grenades, the explosive materials of which were enclosed in cylinders of red paper, and then set light to the cartridge which terminated this inflammable chain, so that, as the fire spread from one end to the other, sudden detonations were heard, which sounded like platoon firing, executed by badly-drilled soldiers. During this time, a man at the foot of the mizenmast struck repeatedly on a gong; the dry sharp explosions and the vibrations of the metal harmonised very well; the saltpetre went off with a rumbling noise, like the roll of a drum, while the sonorous vibrations of the gong filled the entire atmosphere, like the waves which extend over the immensity of the ocean. This cabalistic ceremony terminated, we hoisted our sails. The faï-tings have no keel, and draw very little water; everything had been calculated to ensure these vessels the greatest possible speed; hence their name, which signifies "fast boat." A high wave, an unexpected gust, cause the rounded hulls to capsize, but they right with extreme facility. A faï-ting resembles those joyous birds of the sea who disport themselves in the midst of the waves, like colts in the high grass. The sails having been hoisted, the vessel seemed to be left to the care of Heaven. A single sailor remained at the rudder; the others went away to take or prepare their meals. Soon at the stern of the vessel columns of steam were seen to rise from the boiling saucepans, in which rice was being cooked, while the most hungry of the crew eat the grains which had already become swollen out by the moist heat, accompanied by dried fish. The passengers walked about, and smoked the detestable tobacco of the Celestial Empire, or they collected in groups, and devoted themselves with phrensy to the fetal passion of gambling. The Chinese, for the most part, are born with a taste either for gambling or gastronomy. They never lose a chance of having a feast. Marriages, births, and burials are all so many pretexts for a banquet. It is the same thing with gambling; a Chinaman plays with dice, with cards, and with his fingers, and, in his eyes, every subject is a subject for betting. Our companions, by way of dramatising the ordinary chances of play, intrusted the defence of their money to some unfortunate fowls, who, in order to satisfy the passions of their masters, engaged in a most desperate combat. In general, all the gallinacious race have warlike instincts, and the Chinese have profited by this martial inclination to teach quails how to kill one another. These birds are much smaller in China than with us; their plumage is varied in the same manner; but the quail of the Celestial Empire appears more irascible, more petulant, than its European sister.
A circle of men crouched together in the unnatural position peculiar to the Chinese, formed the spectators to this combat. The birds were enclosed in baskets of bamboos, with openings at the top, through which it was just possible to pass one's hand, and they were only taken out of this prison to be placed on the field of battle. I assisted at the commencement of the action. The adversaries were removed from their respective cages; their feathers were smoothed, a few words of encouragement were addressed to them, and, with a sharp pinch on the lower part of the beak, they were placed opposite to each other. The birds looked at one another at first with an air of defiance; then, as if moved by the same impulse, they sprang forwards. This first shock decided the victory; one of the combatants seized with his beak of steel the skin which covered his adversary's head, and pulled it back over his eyes. The unfortunate bird who was thus blinded uttered a cry, and ran away. A new enemy was opposed to the conqueror. This one waited firmly for the attack, and when he saw his antagonist rushing towards him, struck out at him with his feet, and upset him. Then profiting by the surprise of his adversary, he took him by the throat, tore a quantity of feathers from him, which he threw to the wind, and then resumed his place, waiting bravely for a second attack; but the recent conqueror, like a clever tactician, now prudently beat a retreat. As has been seen, a few passes sufficed to terminate the combat; however, on one occasion, two duellists of equal skill and valour prolonged the struggle for a long time. After each attack they separated to regain force, until, fatigued by their ineffectual efforts, they ceased to fight. In the hands of the avaricious Chinese, they resemble the plumed warriors whom rival ambitions cast upon the field of battle.
I withdrew from this barbarous spectacle, and went to the rear of the vessel to sit down, near the moveable fire-places, where the sailors were cooking their meals. Whilst I was examining their culinary processes, I suddenly heard the peaceful voice of a cricket, which was chirping in the loudest manner. I experienced a childish pleasure in finding on this floating habitation the guest of our humble hearths, the sprite of the smoky cabin, who, in European climates, continues to sing when all else is silent, as if to remind us of the beautiful days that are past, and to make us think of the slumbering inhabitants of the air, who are soon to be awaked. I went up to Callery. "The Chinese," I said, "are really a patriarchal people; even when travelling they surround themselves with everything that can remind them of family life—of the joys of their homesteads. Will you believe that these poor sailors have brought with them the lively singers of the domestic hearth—these dear little crickets, whose voice during the winter mingles with that of the spinning-wheel, who, during the summer, follow the reapers to the fields, in order to repeat to the sound of the sickle the songs they have sung by the fire-side?"
Callery maliciously allowed me to finish my sentence, and then, with a shout of laughter, said, "You are a strange kind of traveller, my friend; before seeing with your eyes, you see with your imagination. Do you wish to know why the Chinese have brought crickets on board?"
"Certainly," I replied, somewhat annoyed.
"Well, then, simply in order to make them fight. These sylphs of the hearth are in their eyes knights in black armour, destined to perish in order to defend the sapeiks of their masters. The betting will soon open, and you will assist at a strange combat."
In the meanwhile, the cricket I had heard continued his joyful cry, his deep and powerful voice testifying to his robust organisation. Soon afterwards a new singer appeared on the stage. This one had a clear sonorous voice, and was in fact a tenor—a genuine tenor.
"This is a contest in the style of those between Virgil's shepherds," said Callery; "or, if you prefer it, it is a duet between Lablache and Mario."
"As for the duet," I replied, "in spite of my pacific instincts, I would rather assist at the duel you promised me."
My wishes were gratified that very moment. Two Chinese took down a couple of cages of bamboo, adorned inside with green leaves, two little palaces filled with silky herbs, and sat down before me. The two palaces contained Lablache and Mario, who were taken out and placed in a porcelain bowl. Lablache was just what I had fancied him from from harmonious testimony of his voice: his rounded paunch caused the segments of his cuirass to bulge out; his powerful forelegs were armed with hooked nails, and through his brown visor could be seen two arched tusks, which lifted up his lips. Mario, on the contrary, was slim and graceful; his black armour fitted tightly round his waist, and his tusks were completely concealed by his mask of steel.
The two insects endeavoured at first to escape, but the polished sides of the bowl formed an insuperable obstacle to their attempt. Accordingly, they took up their positions at the bottom of the bowl, where they would have probably remained at peace with one another, but for the intervention of Chinese perfidy. The two backers were each armed with a long straw, but in the hands of the wicked the most harmless weapon becomes formidable. Mario's master, with the most abominable intention, pushed the blade of grass insolently beneath the nose of his champion; the latter thinking the insult came from Lablache, who at this moment appeared to be beating time with his antenæ, sprang at his head, and struck to the ground the horn on which he laid the guilt. Indignant at this unmerited aggression, the insect that had lost its horn flew at its adversary, and lamed him with the first blow. Mario looked for an instant with stupor at his forefoot, deprived of the right torsus, and listening only to the voice of passion, seized Lablache by the hair, and dragged him three times round the bowl. Alas! it was not Achilles with the body of Hector; for Hector, suddenly disengaging himself, fell with all his weight upon his adversary, crushed him in his embrace, and devoured a portion of his head. After glutting his wrath, the conqueror took up his position in the middle of the bowl, and waited for a new assailant; but no other knight had the audacity to present himself. Lablache returned in triumph to his palace, shaking proudly his solitary horn. All day long our faï-ting was the theatre of similar scenes.
The Chinese never remain idle; when they do not work, they eat, play, or smoke. Night surprised us half-way between Macao and Canton, at the mouth of the Tchou-kiang, which the Europeans call the Bogue. There we passed the night at anchor. The next day with the rising tide we cleared the ports of the Tiger (Bocca Tigris, as the navigators say). This narrow pass obtains its name from an island which protects the entrance, and of which the double summit has some resemblance to a kneeling camel. From this moment, the banks of the Tchou-kiang became narrower and narrower, and we arrived before the village of Whampoa, where, a few days before, the French plenipotentiary and the viceroy of the two Kuangs had signed the treaty which was to bind France and China together for ten thousand years.
Whampoa is situated on the slope of a vast hill, and European ships have been accustomed to cast anchor at its foot. It is in some sort a succursal to the port of Canton, which the avaricious mandarins have ceded to the barbarians. One day this concession will be real, and I am convinced that England will command sooner or later at Whampoa, as she commands now at Hong-kong. The landscape we discovered in ascending the river is unparalleled in richness; as far as the eye can see there are nothing but rice plantations, bordered in the most remarkable way by litchi and banana trees, in the midst of which groups of trees stand out, casting their shade over pagodas, temples, hamlets, and villages without number. This luxuriousness of growth has nothing in common with the unregulated fertility of land left entirely to itself; here nature has submitted with docility to the hand of labour; the smallest shrub, the most unimportant tree, only exists because it satisfies the wants or contributes to the enjoyment the master who has given it a place in the sun.
In the midst of these immense carpets of verdure, solitary towers rise up at certain intervals, like trunks of giant trees struck by lightning, or stripped by the hand of winter. These octagonal monuments, with five, seven, and nine storeys, were constructed in ancient times, in order, it is said, to attract the essences of the earth, and by the concentration of its mysterious fluids to insure the fertility of these countries. Certainly the inhabitants had no need to have recourse to these cabalistic means; they possess within themselves wonderful secrets for subjecting rebellious nature and fertilising barren fields: the love of labour and prosperity, the spirit of order and economy. The aspect of the river itself testifies to the laborious habits of this enterprising race; on the bank women, naked to the haunches, are seeking in the mud of the Tchou-kiang for shells with which to make lime; while fishermen, on fragile rafts, pursue the unintelligent inhabitants of the waters, and follow them in the labyrinths which they have formed of flint in the bed of the river.
The Tchou-kiang is the sole means of communication by which the commerce of Canton is carried on with the barbarians. It is by this channel, which twice a day runs in a different direction, as if to assist Chinese activity, that the manufactures which the European ships bring every year to the Celestial Empire, and the precious products which they take back, are exchanged. This prodigious amount of commerce makes the Chinese river one of the most animated water-routs in the world, compared with which the great rivers of France are timid brooks, bearing in their sinuous course a few insignificant cargoes. Six hours before reaching Canton, native vessels of all kinds and sizes are going and coming, amongst which some schooners of light build are seen, and a few steamers, elegantly constructed, and bearing the free standards of England and the United States. Shortly after our departure from Whampoa the flotillas of junks, faï-tings, and tankas, became so numerous that our ship furled its sails of reed, and we only proceeded with the oars, striking from time to time against all kinds of floating machines. At last night came, and half-an-hour afterwards we stopped before an impassable barrier formed by a compact mass of boats. Our men ceased to row, and the anchor was thrown out, and Callery said to me,—
"We are at Canton."
I cast my eyes in every direction. I was anxious to penetrate the darkness which surrounded it, in order to get at least the outline of the celebrated City; but the mysterious veil was not lifted for me that night. I could see nothing except some spherical globes at the tops of the masts, whose opaque light reminded me of those great phosphorescent Medusas which, in tropical regions, are seen rolling in the midst of the azure waters of the ocean. My travelling companions told me that we were in one of the poorest suburbs of the floating city. The laborious inhabitants of these agitated abodes were already asleep: all was silent around us, except that confused murmur which proceeds at night from the bosom of great towns, and which reached us through the distance. Occasionally, too, the sound of various stringed instruments was heard in the midst of this general hum.