Due West; Or, Round the World in Ten Months

by Maturin M. Ballou

Philologists have vainly endeavored to trace any affinity between the Chinese language and that of other nations, ancient or modern. It is unique,—an original tongue, and, what is equally remarkable, no other nation, except the neighboring Japanese, have ever borrowed from it, or amalgamated any of its elements with their own. It must have risen in its written form from the untutored efforts of a primitive people. Like the Egyptian tongue, it was at first probably composed of hieroglyphics, which, in the course of time, became symbolic as they stand to-day.

The foreign population of Canton, American, English, French, etc., live upon a spacious and beautiful island by themselves. The island is connected with the city proper by a stone bridge having iron gates, through which no native is permitted to pass unless in the domestic employment of the residents, and then they are obliged to show their written permits each time to the guard on duty at the gate of the bridge. All of the foreign consuls with their families reside here in elegant quarters, surrounding their European style of dwellings with fine gardens, trees, and pleasant walks, and here they extend to travelers hospitality only too open-handed and generous. They are completely isolated from the outer world socially, and intelligent visitors from abroad are cordially welcomed by them.

An inexhaustible agricultural capacity remains unimproved in China, and the same may be said of her rich store of mineral wealth, which, under American enterprise and facilities, would soon revolutionize the country in its products and exports. Save the districts which are traversed by the canals, the present means of communication between different parts of the country are scarcely superior to those of Central Africa. The so-called national roads are nearly impassable. No other country in the world would be so surely and rapidly benefited by a thorough system of railroads as would China. Gold and silver are found in nearly every province of the Empire, the former being still procured by the most primitive processes, such as washing the river sands by hand, which are recharged by the freshets from the mountains,—a mode that would satisfy only Chinese labor. Coal is the most widespread, most valuable, and most accessible of all the buried treasures. If the twelve thousand miles of coal-fields have made Great Britain the workshop of the world, what may not be anticipated from the four hundred thousand square miles of Chinese coal-fields, which are capable of supplying the whole world, at the present rate of consumption, for thousands of years?

The depressing monotony in the customs, habits, and ideas of the Chinese, as contrasted with their neighbors, the Japanese, forces itself upon the notice of the traveler. There is no variety among the race, either in manners, dress, or architecture; one section of the country seems precisely like another, so far as the people are concerned, however widely divided, and all follow one model. There is no individuality. They look to the past not to the future. There is no such possibility as a nation's standing still; it either retrogrades or progresses. China, whose people do everything in a left-handed manner, advances like a crab, backwards. It would seem as if she must eventually dry up and die of old age; and yet, within the limits of the Chinese Empire is probably comprised one fourth of the human race. Strive as much as we may to be fair and liberal, it is yet impossible to disguise our strong dislike to the people whom we were now about to leave. A sense of relief on departing from pestilential Canton was inevitable, and there was little to attract us longer at Hong Kong, to which city we returned in the steamship Powan.

It is not wise to shut our eyes to facts which have passed into history, or be too strongly influenced by personal prejudice. The Chinese have long been a cultured, reading people. Their veritable records take them back to the days of Abraham. Five hundred years before the art of printing was known to Europe, books were multiplied by movable types in China, and her annals thereby preserved. Whatever of ignorance may attach to the people as it regards matters extraneous to their empire, the detailed and accurate knowledge of their own country and its statistics is evident enough from the elaborate printed works in the native tongue. Every province has its separate history in print, specifying its productions, a brief record of its eminent men, and of all matters of local importance. Reliable maps of every section of the country are extant. The civil code of laws is annually published and corrected. In the departments of science relating to geography and astronomy, they have long been well advanced. A certain amount of education is universal, eight tenths of the people being able to read and write. The estimate in which letters are held is clear, from the fact that learning forms the very threshold that leads to fame, honor, and official position. Competitive examination is the mode by which office is disposed of, those who hold the highest standard of scholarship bearing off the palm. The art of printing has been referred to as having its origin in China. In two other important discoveries this nation long precedes Europe; namely, in the use of gunpowder and the magnetic compass, the knowledge of which traveled slowly westward through the channels of Oriental commerce, by way of Asia Minor or the Red Sea. It is only just and fair for us to look on both sides of the subject.

On the night of December 11th, being the day previous to that of our departure from Hong Kong, a slight shock of earthquake was experienced, recalling a similar event at Yokohama; but as these are not of uncommon occurrence in either place, little was thought or said about the matter. We embarked on the P. and O. steamship, Brindisi, for Singapore, by the way of the China Sea and the Gulf of Siam. The northeast monsoon favored us, as we rushed like a race-horse over the turbulent sea, with a following gale,—the threatening waves appearing as if they would certainly engulf us if they could catch up with the stern of the ship. The Philippine Islands were given a wide berth, as we steered southward towards the equator. The cholera was raging among the group; and in illustration of the fact that misfortunes never come as single spies, but in battalions, Manilla, the capital, had just been nearly destroyed by a typhoon. Leaving Borneo on our port bow as we neared the equatorial line, the ship was steered due west for the mouth of the Straits lying between the Malay Peninsula and the Island of Sumatra.

While running off the Gulf of Siam we got our first view of a veritable water-spout. It was from four to five miles off our starboard bow, but quite as near as we desired it to be. It seems that both atmospheric and aquatic currents meet here: from the China Sea northward, from the Malacca Straits southward, and from the Pacific Ocean eastward, mingling at the entrance of the Gulf of Siam, causing at times a confusion of the elements. At least this was the captain's theory, and it seems that he had more than once met with water-spouts at this point. They are nothing more or less than a miniature cyclone, an eddying of the wind rotating with such velocity as to suck up a column of water from the sea to a height of one or two hundred feet. This column of water appears to be largest at the top and bottom and visibly contracted at the middle. If it were to fall foul of a ship and break, it would wreck and submerge her as surely as though she were run down by an iceberg. Modern science shows that all storms are cyclonic, that is, are circular eddies of wind of greater or less diameter.

No two geographers seem to agree as to what constitutes the Malay Archipelago, but the five islands nearest to the Peninsula should undoubtedly be thus classified; namely, Singapore, Penang, Borneo, Sumatra, and Java,—the latter containing more volcanoes, active and extinct, than any other known district of equal extent. If the reader will glance at a map of the Eastern Hemisphere, it will be observed that many islands dot the equatorial region between Asia and Australia. Some maps include New Guinea in the Malay group, though it is situated far to the eastward, and forms so independent a region, being larger than Great Britain. Lying in the very lap of the tropics, the climate is more uniformly hot and moist than in any other part of the globe, and teems with productions in the animal and vegetable kingdoms elsewhere unknown. The most precious spices, the richest fruits, the gaudiest feathered birds, are here seen at home; while man is represented by a race quite distinctive and peculiar, whose type will be looked for in vain beyond the limits of this region. Climate, vegetation, and animated life are all specially equatorial. The elephant, rhinoceros, tapir, and the man-like orang-outang are all indigenous. It was quite natural to reflect upon these well-known facts as we came down the China Sea and crossed the broad Gulf of Siam.

On the 15th of December, at noon, latitude 9° 1', longitude 108° 57', we found ourselves just half round the world from our starting-point, Boston. The capital of Massachusetts was exactly beneath us on the opposite side of the globe, a physical fact somewhat difficult to realize.