The following morning, at eleven, we were again permitted to land, this time at Wu-ho, quite a large town and evidently the centre for several industries. After wandering through a few native streets, we took jinrikishas and visited the heights above. Here was situated a fine garden filled with rose trees all in bloom, the property of the son of the noted statesman, Li Hung Chang. This was said to be one of his many palaces; at present he is Minister to England. The afternoon afforded us a variety of points of interest to seek out; long low islands, boldly defined mountains, an occasional village, and coves filled with shipping of all kinds, from the sampan to the five-sail junk. The shores were clothed with the wonderful green of Spring, which, to my mind, was excelled only by the matchless verdure of Java.
On the morning of May 15th we met with constant surprises; first, there was the boldly defined little Orphan Rock, the seat of a Buddhist monastery which contained, however, only a small retinue of monks. Two hours later, on the left side of the Yangtse River, there appeared for the first time a long avenue of trees near the water's edge, while beyond it was a range of mountains higher than we had seen. Nestling between two mountains which seemed to hug the water was a village with a remarkable wall stretching from one peak to the other, and curving down, thus encircling the town; this wall had a crenellated edge and was perfectly preserved.
The mountain range continued for some time, and then was succeeded by the more prevailing flat shore, which soon merged again into mountains. Perched high up on a projecting hill, another monastery gleamed white through the encircling trees. We sailed onward toward the right, and the Captain pointed out on our left the entrance to Lake Poyang, which shone in the distance, and rising boldly out of which could be dimly seen the greater Orphan Island, where towered a large pagoda said to be two hundred and fifty feet high. From now on, the scenery changed rapidly, and first one side of the shore and then the other side claimed our attention and admiration; the river being very wide, and the steamer also constantly changing its course, we were thus given a fine opportunity for observation.
Road to Kaling above Kia-Kiang
Our next excitement occurred when we approached Kia-kiang. We first saw a high rocky promontory on which a tall seven-story pagoda stood, like a veritable sentinel; rounding the point, a long shore line was protected by a seawall which stretched to the extreme point of land where Kia-kiang is situated. Near the pagoda were homes and native buildings, then some business houses; farther back from the shore rose another towering pagoda, and farther still another, while a tiny temple was perched on an eminence. Embowered in trees, we also found the white homes of foreign residents, presumably English. There was a great deal of shipping in port which gave evidence of the city's being a business centre. Three hours' time was given us on land, but few availed themselves of the privilege because of a heavy rain. On leaving Kia-kiang a low shore was seen, then a long island, covered with homes of a simple kind, with their little gardens; every inch of ground was under cultivation. The shades of night soon shut off our view, but at 9 a.m. we were again anchored—this time at Wu-such. Only the gleaming lights in the distance were visible. Two more places were to be passed during the night, Wang-tu-kiang and Wen-chou; and Hankow was to confront us on the morrow.
The Yangtse River rises three thousand miles away, near Tibet, and covers the whole of the Empire; thus far we had traversed six hundred miles of it. Despite what we praised, however, we could not help longing to meet with the bolder scenery which a longer trip would have revealed to us. A heavy rain prevented much sight-seeing at Hankow on the first day, which was fortunately Sunday; thus we received our initial impressions of the city from the steamer, a view which took in a long Bund, fronting the water's edge, and filled with fine buildings, evidently of a European style of architecture; we were told that they were the different homes of the English, French, and German consulates, the French even having a special park attached to theirs. At the extreme left were large business houses and a club. Hankow is a great depository for tea, and, with the two adjacent cities of Han-yang and Wu-chang, it has an immense population, reaching into the millions. Many religious denominations are said to be represented in Hankow, but we saw no pretentious churches. The harbor or water-front has a stone embankment; a large amount of shipping is to be seen, many of the boats being of peculiar construction.
The following morning, we had a few hours in which to view the city before taking the train for Peking. We first visited the native quarter. The heavy rain of the previous day caused a great deal of mud, and as we attempted to drive through the narrow streets and bazars, the dirt floors of the little homes and shops were a sea of mud, while the inmates were preparing breakfast and attending to other domestic avocations in perfect unconcern; it was certainly not an inspiring scene, and the worst native quarter we had visited during our stay in China. We did not extend our observation very far, but turned to the more attractive Bund, which is about three miles in extent. Here we had a nearer view of the consulates, from each of which a street led down to the water's edge. In the French concession we noticed the same naming of streets and buildings that we had seen in Shanghai; this was also true of the German and English concessions, thus making of each a little miniature city. There is a fine English club at Hankow, and a long line of tea factories called godowns; the odor of tea was distinctly noticeable for three blocks. From May to the middle of July the tea industry of Hankow is great, and large numbers of dealers and speculators interested in the business congregate there.