I visited numberless sing-songs, or theatres, in all of which I found the most persevering of instrumental and vocal performers. Some exclusively confined themselves to musical (Chinese) entertainment, while others were devotees of the Chinese Thespis, and, of the two, I think the latter preferable; for, although their principal hits consist of a tremendous crash of gongs, drums, horns, &c. (which invariably places the audience in ecstasies of delight), there is not so much of the shrieking falsetto of the singers, or the scraping of that excruciating tympanum-piercing instrument of torture—the Chinese fiddle. The nation has certainly obtained its knowledge of musical concord from the vicinity of Pandemonium, its idea of discord must come from somewhere considerably beyond that place.
Some of the sing-songs combined creature comforts with those more intellectual; but these were permanent institutions, and not simply for the occasion. These establishments are open free of charge, but care is taken to have a select audience. The female performers considerably outnumber the male, and have the cramped small feet. After shrieking themselves hoarse, in a higher pitch of voice than I ever heard before, they approach the visitors to receive largess. Now, their manner of doing this I denounce as the most revolting specimen of self-distortion and pedestrianism imaginable. I can think of no juster simile than a frog trying to walk upright with half its hind legs amputated and stilts fastened to the stumps. Why the deformed feet should ever have been termed "small" I am at a loss to imagine, all that I have seen being quite the reverse. The bottom of the foot, it is true, is bandaged, and compressed into a hoof-like smallness, with the toes all forced into the sole, and on this the shoe is fitted; but look at the ankle, instep, and heel, and you will see nothing but an immense shapeless mass, closely resembling the foot of an elephant.
Whenever the Celestial vocalists have hobbled up to you and taken a seat,—perhaps on your knees if they should happen to take a fancy to you,—the polite thing is to order supper for the company ad libitum, and by this means the proprietors and musical talent of the establishment recompense themselves; for although there is no entrance-charge, by George! they do make you pay for supper.
It is a pity some of the members of teetotalism do not undertake a proselytizing expedition to China, for in these intellectual entertainments of the people they would find a fair field for their labour. The etiquette of the sing-song is that a man must never refuse the wine-cup from the hand of one of the attendant sirens, and I am quite sure the sirens use the strongest persuasion and their most fascinating arts to ply it. It sometimes unfortunately happens that a victimized Chinaman becomes unduly elated, and attempts to steal a kiss; and when this happens, as the ladies are thickly befloured and daubed with paint, the poor fellow quickly assumes a floury appearance, while the lady's countenance becomes variegated with irregular lines of commingled colour.
The Chinese have another polite mode of making beasts of themselves, consisting of a sort of forfeit game, in which one holds up his fingers and the other, before seeing them, quickly guesses the number held up, the loser's penalty being to swallow a cupful of wine or samshoo, and then, to show his superior breeding and capacity, to hold it aloft, bottom up, after each draught.
The professional ladies are always open to an engagement, and are usually invited to attend evening parties, to enliven the guests by their melody and flirtation. Upon these occasions each siren carries a fan, upon which is inscribed her list of songs, and this is handed round the company to select from. The wives and daughters of the host are never present at these soirées musicales, for they, poor creatures, being only upon a par with the goods and chattels, are considered unworthy to mix with their lords in public. In all affairs but the most private domestic ones they are entirely ignored, and it would be the greatest breach of good manners for one Chinaman to ask another after his wife's health, and would be vulgar to talk of female relatives at all. Of course, where woman occupies such an inferior position, her rights are frequently usurped; and it is no uncommon thing for one of the singing ladies to monopolize a man with several wives.
While at Hong-Kong I had the satisfaction of visiting a grand New Year exhibition that only takes place once every ten years. It consisted of an immense building of bamboo and matting, after the general style of Chinese theatres. The people excel in this style of building, and will finish one of these temporary structures in a few days, and without using a single nail in the work. The walls and roof are simply bamboo, lashed together with rope, then thatched with rushes, and covered with matting; the whole completely watertight, and strong enough to resist the wind and weather. That which I visited was designated the Temple of some long-named Chinese divinity, and was of vast extent, covering several acres of land. The interior contained a little of every production of China, a fair sprinkling of European articles, and an endless variety of shows and amusements. Some parts were devoted to stalls of raw produce, while others contained every kind of manufactured article. One of the most attractive scenes for the Chinamen was a show of models of a great variety of wild animals, comprising almost everything, from a mouse to a camelopard. Although this dummy menagerie gave the greatest satisfaction and elicited numberless "Hi-ya's!" from the astonished Celestials, I am pretty certain that many of the supposed representations could never have found an original, and I am quite sure that had a tiger seen the tremendous monster intended for himself, it would have certainly frightened him. Theatres, sing-songs, lecturers, quack-doctors, mountebanks, tumblers, jugglers, fortune-tellers, all were to be enjoyed for the sum of two dollars paid at the door.
The Temple was said to contain 1,000,000 lanterns, and was altogether remarkably well got up. I met the Chinese jugglers for the first time at this place, and I must say they are remarkably dexterous. One of the best tricks I saw them execute is this—the performer, after showing the audience that he has nothing concealed about him and going through a series of gymnastics to convince them, will suddenly stop, stoop down, and from under his ordinary Chinese robe produce an immense bowl filled to the brim with water; so full, indeed, that the slightest movement would spill some, yet the trick is executed without a drop falling to the ground.
While lounging through the "palace of 1,000,000 lanterns," I found the first opportunity to study that absurd jargon, "pidgeon English." I was watching one of the most expert jugglers, when a fine, portly, evidently well-to-do Chinaman came up, and addressed me with—
"Hi-ya! this piecee man belong numbah one. Can do so fashon? ga la!"