The prospect, as you approach Great Loo-Choo island, clothed in masses of deep green, is very delightful to the eye, after it has been resting for days on the slate-colored ocean. We reached our anchorage late in the afternoon in the midst of a heavy rain, on the 26th of May. The roadstead off the city of Napa is enclosed by large fields of coral, and the entrances through the reefs are quite narrow. When we had gotten inside, large numbers of the natives appeared on the shore, no doubt greatly astonished at the sight of the two large steamers; and shortly after, the sloop-of-war “Saratoga,” from Hong Kong, also arrived. In a short time a rude dug-out boat came off to our ship, containing some officer, but as the flag-ship had previously made signal forbidding any communication with shore, he was directed to that ship—now the Susquehanna. He wished to know what we wanted in their harbor; the answer to this was, “Ask no questions and I’ll tell you,” &c. He was given to understand that he was rather too “small pigeon” for our commodore to see, and that he must go back and send off their “first chop” mandarin, as we could hold no intercourse with any other. This was trying on the dignitate early, but nothing else will answer in the East; any concession of equality, or manifestation of too great courtesy, would be at once construed by them into an admission of their superiority.
Our stripes and stars were a new sight to them, and the sudden advent of our ships in their waters was more than they could comprehend. At night their chief men took counsel together, and came to the conclusion that we were in want of kam-yum-muru, or something to eat; so the next morning off came, in a string of canoes, bullocks, pigs, chickens, and vegetables, as presents. These were sent back with the information that we could not receive presents. Become quite uneasy about our presence, they consented to their prince regent’s coming off to the flag-ship, which he did at an appointed hour, with a suite in their canoes. He was well received, and given the cheap salute of three guns, which small compliment he would have preferred to dispense with. They were shown over the ship: the engines were moved for their observation, and they evinced immense surprise: some of the attendants, however, when the great pistons moved, bolted up the hatchway and made for their boats. The higher officers were quite dignified in appearance and demeanor, but the lower class showed a simplicity most childish. They giggled at a looking-glass, and continually felt behind it; a sight through a spy-glass was most puzzling; a wine-glass they held tightly with both hands, and elevated to the forehead before tasting contents; a watch was most miraculous, and as they gathered round they were all wonderment, and imitated its “tick tick;” when the works were exposed to them, their exclamation of surprise was more like one of pain. The contents of the purser’s chest when exposed to them they seemed to think quite shiny and pretty, but evidently were unaware of the value or use of eagles, dollar-pieces, &c. On a chart of the world, in the cabin one day, I showed a number of them their country, and then designating my own, traced the track by which we had come to their island, which they appeared to comprehend. It was quite amusing to see the rapidity with which they would let go the polar handles of a small galvanic battery, which much persuasion and the example of some of the men were first required to get them to take hold of, as soon as it was slightly charged by pushing in the needles. They would drop their hands and rub their wrists in amazement.
The dress of the Loo-Chooans consists of a loose gown reaching to the knees, with large sleeves, made of a species of grass-cloth, of their own manufacture, and confined at the waist with a wide sash, pendent from which they wear a tobacco-pouch and small pipe. After the interchange of salutations, the pipe is always produced. On their feet, which are generally bare, they wear a coarse straw sandal, secured by a strap passing through next to the great toe, and one around the instep. Like the Japanese, the better classes carry a fan; but only the high officers wear a hat, made of crape, the first class yellow, and the second red—more particularly as a badge of authority. Their hair is brushed up all around the head, and its ends secured in a knot on the summit of the head, transfixed by silver or brass pins.
LOO CHOO.
We knew that Loo-Choo had been visited in 1846 by a French missionary, Forcade, who had subsequently left, but were rather surprised on anchoring abreast of a tall and singular formation, called in the surveys of the “Alceste and Lyra,” “Capstan rock,” but which more nearly resembles a large old barn, with dark thatched roof, and huge projecting eaves—to see flying from its summit the English flag. We afterward ascertained that it was a flag giving protection to Dr. Bettelheim, a converted Hungarian Jew, who had married an English lady, and had been sent by an English naval mission society, some seven years before, as a missionary to Loo-Choo. He did not appear to be a man whose disposition and temperament were calculated to afford him success in his labors, although he had persevered in his study of their language until he could preach to the natives in it, and had occupied his lonely position for years, with no other Christian faces than those of his wife and three children. The Loo-Chooans had tried every way to get rid of him; they had addressed, through the Chinese, to the English minister, Lord Palmerston, remonstrances against the mission, which invariably closed with the petition that he would remove Bettelheim. They may not have known Vattel, but they urged with much energy his doctrine, that a missionary should leave a country when his presence was not agreeable to its people. But the Dr. held his ground, though he was made to undergo some rather rough treatment. Himself, by his professional skill in the healing art, and his wife, during the prevalence of the smallpox, had been very attentive to the people, which caused the authorities to become quite jealous. They were followed and hooted at in the streets, and finally, Mrs. B. during a walk, was forcibly separated from her husband, and himself beaten. The British war-steamer “Sphynx” happened to pay a visit to Napa not long afterward, when the authorities made ample apology for the offence, and promised better things in future. They removed his servants, or constantly changed them. They erected spy-houses opposite the gate of his residence, which were constantly attended. If he preached to a crowd in the street, or market-place, at a signal from the Japanese police on the island, his auditors all ran away. If he distributed tracts in their language at night, the next morning, the police brought them back to him, carefully tied up.
They were much disturbed by our presence, and if our sails were loosened to dry, they wondered why we did not sail away. We made a reconnoissance of their harbor to ascertain or confirm the accuracy of the surveys of Beechy, and the flag, or station staffs, we erected on shore for this purpose, around which numbers would gather, sorely perplexed them.
The principal town of Napa, containing about twenty thousand inhabitants, is located behind the rising beach, and can not be seen well from the shipping. Its kiang, or river, forms a harbor for junks from China, Japan, and their coasting trade, and small boats only. The houses of the town which are low, are enclosed in walls of cyclopean masonry, built mostly without any cement, of coral rock. Over these the limbs of the banyan project, and they are mostly fringed on top by a growth of cactus. The entrances to their dwellings are from narrow alleys running from the streets, and concealed by an abrupt elbow turn, so unless you notice close, you will scarcely observe the doorway. The streets are narrow, and laid out like those of Peking, and unpaved, and the reception that we met with on walking them, was anything but sociable; not that the mass of the people, who, after getting a little over the trepidation which our unexpected arrival produced, were not inclined to be friendly, but because of the surveillance of their suspicious and jealous officials. On our approach the shops were closed, and the way in front entirely deserted, while as soon as you had passed, there was a great throng gazing at you from the rear. Those weaving in the open air with their rude looms seizing their children did flee. Old women, awfully ugly, with tattoed hands, hair piled on their heads like a greasy mop, invested with a single salt-sack-looking garment of exceeding brevity, if you came upon them would betake themselves to flight, leaving the sharks’ meat, or vegetables, which they might have for sale, in the market-place, or else bury their faces in their dirty bluish tattoed hands, and so remain until you had passed. We were forced to conclude that our presence was as moving as that of Mr. Nicodemus in the Spectre Bridegroom; or else that an American naval officer, if he caused those old sycoraxes to shun him, must be ugly enough to scare a horse from his oats.
The origin of the married women tattoeing their hands, according to Loo-Chooan story literally rendered, is this: A husband going on a journey had an agreement with his wife for three years, but contrary to the agreement, ten years passed before his return. Her parents repeatedly proposed that she should change, and marry again, but she earnestly defended her chastity, saying, “A woman should not marry two husbands!” Still gainsaying, with blows they were forcing her to marry. She invented a stratagem—she painted her fingers with ink; she spoiled her beauty. Hence it must be, they say, that all women on marrying tattoe their hands.
In our walks we always had the unsolicited company of some government deputies. If you motioned them about anything, they were exceedingly addicted to salaaming, by bowing and raising their hands to their heads, but they remained exactly where they were. A rare and beautiful flower attracted your attention, and you wished to look closer at it, your attendant functionary pantomimically trusts that you will not enter, but passing through the gate, or scaling the coral wall, in a few minutes he will present you with one of the novel flowers. Should one of your company accidentally or intentionally slip out of the sight of these impromptu attendants, they appear most mentally troubled till he reappears.