VESSELS IN THE PORT OF SHANGHAI.
The population of Shanghai, rapidly increasing, is probably about 400,000 to 450,000 souls. It swarms with professional beggars. Among the many creditable things cited by Milne regarding the Chinese, is the number of native charitable institutions in Canton, Ningpo, and Shanghai, including Foundling Hospitals, the (Shanghai) “Asylum for Outcast [pg 126]Children, retreats for poor and destitute widows, shelters for the maimed and blind, medical dispensaries, leper hospitals, vaccine establishments, almshouses, free burial societies,” and so forth. So much for the heartless Chinese.
The sailor certainly has this compensation for his hard life, that he sees the world, and visits strange countries and peoples by the dozen, privileges for which many a man tied at home by the inevitable force of circumstances would give up a great deal. What an oracle is he on his return, amid his own family circle or friends! How the youngsters in particular hang on his every word, look up at his bronzed and honest face, and wish that they could be sailors,—
“Strange countries for to see.”
How many curiosities has he not to show—from the inevitable parrot, chattering in a foreign tongue, or swearing roundly in English vernacular, to the little ugly idol brought from India, but possibly manufactured in Birmingham![93] If from China, he will probably have brought home some curious caddy, fearfully and wonderfully inlaid with dragons and impossible landscapes; an ivory pagoda, or, perhaps, one of those wonderfully-carved balls, with twenty or so more inside it, all separate and distinct, each succeeding one getting smaller and smaller. He may have with him a native oil-painting; if a portrait, stolid and hard; but if of a ship, true to the last rope, and exact in every particular. In San Francisco, where there are 14,000 or more Chinese, may be seen native paintings of vessels which could hardly be excelled by a European artist, and the cost of which for large sizes, say 3½ by 2½ feet, was only about fifteen dollars (£3). What with fans, handkerchiefs, Chinese ladies’ shoes for feet about three inches in length, lanterns, chopsticks, pipes, rice-paper drawings, books, neat and quaint little porcelain articles for presents at home, it will be odd if Jack, who has been mindful of the “old folks at home,” and the young folks too, and the “girl he left behind him,” does not become a very popular man.
And then his yarns of Chinese life! How on his first landing at a port, the natives in proffering their services hastened to assure him in “pigeon English” (“pigeon” is a native corruption of “business,” as a mixed jargon had and has to be used in trading with the lower classes) that “Me all same Englische man; me belly good man;” or “You wantee washy? me washy you?” which is simply an offer to do your laundry work;[94] or “You wantee glub (grub); me sabee (know) one shop all same Englische belly good.” Or, perhaps, he has met a Chinaman accompanying a coffin home, and yet looking quite happy and jovial. Not knowing that it is a common custom to present coffins to relatives during lifetime, he inquires, “Who’s dead, John?” “No man hab die,” replies the Celestial, “no man hab die. Me makee my olo fader cumsha. Him likee too muchee, countoo my number one popa, s’pose he die, can catchee,” which freely translated is—“No [pg 127]one is dead. It is a present from me to my aged father, with which he will be much pleased. I esteem my father greatly, and it will be at his service when he dies.” How one of the common names for a foreigner, especially an Englishman, is “I say,” which derived its use simply from the Chinese hearing our sailors and soldiers frequently ejaculate the words when conversing, as for example, “I say, Bill, there’s a queer-looking pigtail!” The Chinese took it for a generic name, and would use it among themselves in the most curious way, as for example, “A red-coated I say sent me to buy a fowl;” or “Did you see a tall I say here a while ago?” The application is, however, not more curious than the title of “John” bestowed on the Chinaman by most foreigners as a generic distinction. Less flattering epithets used to be freely bestowed on us, especially in the interior, such as “foreign devil,” “red-haired devil,” &c. The phrase Hungmaou, “red-haired,” is applied to foreigners of all classes, and arose when the Dutch first opened up trade with China. A Chinese work, alluding to their arrival, says, “Their raiment was red, and their hair too. They had bluish eyes, deeply sunken in their head, and our people were quite frightened by their strange aspect.”
Jack will have to tell how many strange anomalies met his gaze. For example, in launching their junks and vessels, they are sent into the water sideways. The horseman mounts on the right side. The scholar, reciting his lesson, turns his back on his master. And if Jack, or, at all events one of his superior officers, goes to a party, he should not wear light pumps, but as thick solid shoes as he can get; white lead is used for blacking. On visits of ceremony, you should keep your hat on; and when you advance to your host, you should close your fists and shake hands with yourself. Dinners commence with sweets and fruits, and end with fish and soup. White is the funereal colour. You may see adults gravely flying kites, while the youngsters look on; shuttlecocks are battledored by the heel. Books begin at the end; the paging is at the bottom, and in reading, you proceed from right to left. The surname precedes the Christian name. The fond mother holds her babe to her nose to smell it—as she would a rose—instead of kissing it.
What yarns he will have to tell of pigtails! How the Chinese sailor lashes it round his cap at sea; how the crusty pedagogue, with no other rod of correction, will, on the spur of the moment, lash the refractory scholar with it; and how, for fun, a wag will tie two or three of his companions’ tails together, and start them off in different directions! But he will also know from his own or others’ experiences that the foreigner must not attempt practical jokes upon John Chinaman’s tail. “Noli me tangere,” says Dr. Milne, “is the order of the tail, as well as of the thistle.”
Now that most of the restrictions surrounding foreigners in Japan have been removed, and that enlightened people—the Englishmen of the Pacific in enterprise and progress—have taken their proper place among the nations of the earth, visits to Japan are commonly made by even ordinary tourists making the circuit of the globe, and we shall have to touch there again in another “voyage round the world” shortly to follow. The English sailors of the Royal Navy often have an opportunity of visiting the charming islands which constitute Japan. Its English name is a corruption of Tih-punquo—Chinese for “Kingdom of the Source of the Sun.” Marco Polo was the first to bring [pg 129]to Europe intelligence of the bright isles, whose Japanese name, Nipon or Niphon, means literally “Sun-source.”
On the way to Yokohama, the great port of Japan, the voyager will encounter the monsoons, the north-east version of which brings deliciously cool air from October to March, while the south-west monsoon brings hot and weary weather. On the way Nagasaki, on the island of Kiusiu, will almost certainly be visited, which has a harbour with a very narrow entrance, with hills running down to the water’s edge, beautifully covered with luxuriant grass and low trees. The Japanese have planted batteries on either side, which would probably prevent any vessel short of a strong ironclad from getting in or out of the harbour. The city has a population at least of 150,000. There are a number of Chinese restricted to one quarter, surrounded by a high wall, in which is a heavy gate, that is securely locked every night. Their dwellings are usually mean and filthy, and compare very unfavourably with the neat, clean, matted dwellings of the Japanese. The latter despise the former; indeed, you can scarcely insult a native more than to compare him with his brother of Nankin. The Japanese term them the Nankin Sans.