LETTER II
Shanghai, 10th May 1865.
The Ganges did not leave Hong-kong until the 5th at noon, and we anchored off the lightship in the estuary here on Monday night, but the river is so difficult of navigation that we could not run into Shanghai until the next morning. We had on the whole a fine passage and a very quick one; C. and R., who were my companions at Canton, came on with me, and the captain of the ship being a very well-read, gentlemanlike man, sparing no pains to make every one comfortable, we had a very cheery voyage. We had besides a young French artillery officer on his way to revisit the scene of the campaign he had made in 1860, a few nondescripts, two or three Chinese families, and a Parsee. Of course the Chinamen pigged together separately, and his “odium theologicum” forbade the Parsee to eat with us, which was a benefit to all parties, for he was not a desirable companion by any means. The point of dirt at which the Chinese passengers contrived to arrive during the voyage, and the whiffs which came from their cabins when the doors were opened, surpass belief; one of their great gentlemen here stood over the French officer and myself as we were playing backgammon one day, and manifested the utmost interest in the game, uttering exclamations at every lucky throw, for the Chinese are gamblers to the backbone,—but so noisome was he that we had to leave off playing and rush on deck for fresh air. This being the condition of a “gentleman,” fancy how pleasant the 110 coolie passengers under the forecastle were to sight and smell. The Chinese ladies did not show at all, but they used to send their dirty little brats up on deck to play, and very offensive they contrived to make their small selves. Independently of their dirt, Chinamen are a sorry spectacle on a journey—their heads require shaving (a week’s crop looks even worse on the poll than on the chin), and their tails get untidy and shaggy from being slept upon. Talking of tails, it seems to be the “chic” at Shanghai to lengthen them with white instead of black silk, which does not look near so well. I noticed one man who, like little Cock Robin, had “tied up his tail with a yard of blue bobbin.” (I found out afterwards that these white and blue tails are signs of mourning.)
The voyage from Hong-kong to the north, being principally a coasting affair, is not so dull and uneventful as more sea-going cruises. We were constantly in sight of land—numberless headlands and islands mark the course, but render it dangerous in bad weather. There are plenty of ships to be seen, and all around the rocky islands the sea is alive with fishing-smacks, their crews busily at work. We had no mails on board, nor stern officers in charge, so the captain stopped once and bought a quantity of fresh fish, delicious pomfret all alive and kicking, paying the fishermen in kind with ship’s biscuit, which I hope was as great a boon to them as their fish was to us. It is such a fine sight in one of these narrow island passages, where one can almost hear the sea dashing against the basaltic rocks on either side, to pass a great sailing-ship close on our lee, and steam away from her at top speed. Long before the estuary is reached, the sea, which in these parts is of a deep aquamarine green, becomes clouded and discoloured. This is owing to the immense volume of yellow dirty water which the Yang-tse-kiang pours down. It is much the same colour as the Rhine, and quite as foul-looking.
We began ascending the river soon after daybreak on Tuesday morning. Its banks are low and flat. If it were not for a few trees there would be nothing to relieve the eye from the monotony of the filthy water and vast plain. Here and there a group of European houses and an ensign or two mark a settlement. By eleven o’clock we had threaded our way through the labyrinth of shipping and had reached Shanghai. I landed at once and heard of an opportunity for Tientsing on Friday next, of which I shall avail myself. By the way, I must tell you here, that so far as I can learn, the communications between Tientsing and this place are somewhat uncertain, so if any mail should not carry a letter to you from me, do not pay me the compliment of being uneasy, but let no news be good news.
My good quarters and the kind hospitality which I had met with at Hong-kong seem to follow me on my travels. Here again I have been received with the warmest welcome by Mr. D., a junior partner of C.’s, and I am assured of the same at Tientsing. If all the travellers and officers stationed in China, whom I have met, did not tell me that this hospitality is the universal rule, I should be almost shy of accepting so much kindness.
I have little enough to tell you about Shanghai. The city is ugly and unattractive, the river dingy, and the country a dead level plain. From the top of the club-house the view in every direction is utterly unbroken, there is not a mound the height of dear old Salt Hill. Then, commercially speaking, the town at the time of my visit was a blank. The crisis of which I have spoken to you before has told here more than elsewhere; to my eye the harbour seems full enough of shipping, but I am told that there are not more than a third of the vessels that used to be seen in former years. One of the causes which has brought about this effect has been the speculation in land. When the rebellion panic was upon the Chinese they were only too glad to flock into the settlement for shelter; land rose in value, and was bought up in every direction. Now that the revolt has been put down in this part of the empire the natives have gone home to their own abodes, and of course landed property has fallen, so that those speculators who did not sell in time have their money hopelessly tied up. This, and the competition system practised by the Europeans in contrast to the Chinese, who do everything by combination, together with “hard times,” have brought Shanghai very low. In short, morally as well as physically, it is, for the present, flat.
I have had a good deal of conversation with Sir Harry Parkes, our consul here. You will recollect him as famous for the pluck he showed when he and Loch were taken prisoners in Peking; he is one of the great authorities in China, and one of our ablest officers in the East. He tells me that he considers the state of feeling between the Chinese and Europeans in this part as on the whole satisfactory; that the natives have begun to accept us and our trade as a necessity; to use his own expression, it is a sort of husband and wife arrangement, with slight incompatibilities of temper on both sides. Sir Harry Parkes is a man of extraordinary determination and energy; his knowledge of the Chinese language, customs, and character have given him an immense influence over the natives. He is in every way a remarkable man, and great things are expected of him, even by those who differ from him in opinion. It is only fair to say, that there are many men of judgment and experience out here who do not agree with him in holding that our trade with China stands on a solid footing. They consider that the unwilling spirit with which the natives first received us has by no means died out, and that little by little, always by fair means and without violence,[4] for they know our strength, the Chinese will endeavour to oust us from our position, and return to their traditional conservatism. Perhaps this is a pessimist creed, but still it is largely professed. At any rate the Chinese will find it a hard matter to get rid of us, for no Government will give up a matter of nearly six millions of revenue without a struggle. For the present the British are welcome here. The Ta̔i Pi̔ngs have been driven out of this part of China, and the rebellion has dwindled down to comparative unimportance. The Chinese may be given credit for so much of gratitude as looks upon past benefits as earnests of future favours. We can still be useful, so we are still courted. It remains to be seen whether, when we shall have played our part out, our friends will try to cast us on one side.
When Sir Rutherford Alcock was in authority here he established a municipal system which so long as Shanghai was prosperous answered very well; of course, however, this being Chinese territory, subscription to the authority of the municipality could not be compulsory, nor were its enactments binding; but it suited the interests of the public to accept it, and so it was supported by all the respectable part of the community. Now the failures have told upon this as upon every other institution, and unless better times come, it will fall to the ground for want of funds and strength. It would be a great pity that this should be the case, for there are many improvements needed here; above all, gas-lighting. It is really to be hoped that things will take a better turn soon, for they seem to be quite at their worst.
I must tell you of rather a funny offer of service that I received the other day. R.’s Chinese boy came into me, and after playing nervously with his tail for a little while, said, “My massa talkee my too muchee fooloo; my thinkee more better my walkee Peking side long you.” I felt half-inclined to engage the man for his simplicity, especially as he is a good servant, though certainly not over bright.