November 23rd.—Six P.M.—Arrived off Woohoo at about 3 P.M. We passed the town, and anchored just above it. It is in the hands of the Rebels, but no hostility was shown to us. Wade has been on shore to communicate with the chiefs, who are very civil, but apparently a low set of Cantonese. The place where he landed is a kind of entrenched camp; the town about three miles distant. An Imperialist fleet is moored a few miles up the river. I sent Lay to communicate with the commanding officer, and he recommends the 'Retribution' to go a little farther on to a place in the possession of the Imperialists.
[Sidenote: Rebel warfare.]
November 24th.—Ten A.M.—We set off this morning at about 6 A.M. In passing the fleet we begged from the commander the loan of a pilot. He proves to be a Cantonese, so that the active spirits on both sides seem to come from that quarter. We asked him why the Imperialists do not take Woohoo. He says they have no guns of a sufficient size to do anything against the forts, but that about twice a month they have a fight on shore. They cut off the heads of Rebels, and vice versâ, when they catch each other, which does not seem to happen very often. The war, in short, seems to be carried on in a very soft manner, but it must do a great deal of mischief to the country. While I was dressing I was called out of my cabin to see a fight going on, on the right bank of the river. The Rebels occupied some hills, where they were waving flags gallantly, and the Imperialists were below them in a plain. We saw only two or three cannon shots fired while we passed. As things are carried on, one does not see why this war should not last for ever. My friends, the Commissioners, seem to have acted in good faith towards me, for the Chinese naval authorities all inform me that they had been forewarned of our coming, and ordered to treat us with every courtesy.
[Sidenote: The Imperial fleet.]
November 25th.—Ten A.M.—We have just passed a bit of scenery on our left, which reminds me of Ardgowan,—a range of lofty hills in the background, broken up by deep valleys and hillocks covered with trees; dark-green fir, and hard wood tinted with Canadian autumn colours, running up towards it from the river. With two or three thousand acres—what a magnificent situation for a park! There are so many islets in this river that it is not easy to speak of its breadth, but its channel still continues deep, and, with occasional exceptions, navigable without difficulty. Six P.M.—A very pretty spectacle closed this day. The sun was dropping into the western waters before us as we approached a place called Tsong-yang, on the left bank. We knew it was the station of an Imperial fleet, and as we neared it we found about thirty or forty warjunks, crowded with men and dressed in their gaudiest colours. Flags of every variety and shape. On one junk we counted twenty-one. You cannot imagine a prettier sight. We anchored, supposing that the authorities might come off to us. As yet, however, they have shown no disposition to do so. I presume, however, that the display is a compliment. Figure to yourself the gala I have described at the mouth of a broad stream running at right angles to the river Yangtze, and up which the town lies, about two miles off— the river, plains, town and all, surrounded by an amphitheatre of lofty hills—and you will have an idea of the scene in the midst of which we are anchored, and from which, the golden tints of sunset are now gradually fading away.
[Sidenote: Under fire again.]
November 26th.—Noon.—We have just had another sample of this very unedifying Chinese warfare. About an tour ago we came off the city of Nganching, the capital of the province of Aganhoci—the last station (so we are assured) in the hands of the Rebels. As we neared a pagoda, surrounded by a crenelated wall, we were fired upon two or three times. We thought it necessary to resent this affront by peppering the place for about ten minutes. We then moved slowly past the town, unassaulted till we reached the farther corner, when the idiots had the temerity to fire again. This brought us a second time into action. It is a sorry business this fighting with the people who are so little a match; but I do not suppose we did them much harm, and it was, I presume, necessary to teach them that they had better leave us alone. Osborn, who was aloft, saw from that point a curious scene. The Imperialists (probably taking advantage of our vicinity) were advancing on the town from the land side in skirmishing order, waving their flags and gambolling as usual. The Pagoda Rebels ran out of it as soon as we began to fire, and found themselves tumbling into the arms of the Imperialists. We passed this morning a narrow rocky passage, otherwise the navigation has been easy.
[Sidenote: A pilot.]
Six P.M.—Anchored off Tunglow, a walled town, nicely situated on the river. The sun is sinking to his repose through a mist, red and round, like a great ball of fire. The pilot is the most vivacious Chinaman I have seen,—inquiring about everything, proposing to go to England, like a Japanese. It was from the naval commander at Kiewhein that we got him. Lay was present when the commodore sent for him. He fell on his knees. The chief informed him that he must go up the river with us, and pilot us. 'That is a public service,' says the man, 'and if your Excellency desires it I must go; but I would humbly submit that I have a mother and sister who must be provided for in my absence.' 'Certainly,' said the chief. 'Then,' answered our man, 'I am ready;' and without further a-do he got into the boat with Lay and came off to us.
November 27th.—Eight A.M.—We started well, but there is such a fog that we are obliged to stop till it clears. Our pilot went ashore last night at Tunglow, and has returned with the front part of his head cleanly shaved. I asked him what the people had thought of our appearance. He answered that they were greatly afraid lest we should fire upon them, and their hearts at first went pit-a-pat; but when they heard from him how well we treated him, and that we were no friends to the Rebels, they said 'Poussa' ('that's Buddha's doing' or 'thank God').