RIVER AT SHANGHAE
London, John Murray, Albemarle Street.
Shanghae is by far the most important station for foreign trade on the coast of China, and is consequently attracting a large share of public attention. No other town with which I am acquainted possesses such advantages: it is the great gate—the principal entrance, in fact—to the Chinese empire. In going up the river towards the town, a forest of masts meets the eye, and shows at once that it is a place of vast native trade. Junks come here from all parts of the coast, not only from the southern provinces, but also from Shantung and Peechelee: there are also a considerable number annually from Singapore and the Malay Islands. The convenience of inland transit is also unrivalled in any part of the world. The country, being as it were the valley of the Yang-tse-kiang, is one vast plain, intersected by many beautiful rivers, and these again joined and crossed by canals, many of them nearly natural, and others stupendous works of art. Owing to the level nature of the country, the tide ebbs and flows a great distance inland, thus assisting the natives in the transmission of their exports to Shanghae, or their imports to the most distant parts of the country. The port of Shanghae swarms with boats of all sizes, employed in this inland traffic; and the traveller continually meets them, and gets a glimpse of their sails over the land, at every step of his progress in the interior. Since the port has been opened these boats bring down large quantities of tea and silk to supply the wants of our merchants who have established themselves here, and return loaded with the manufactures of Europe and America, which they have taken in exchange. Our plain cotton goods are most in demand amongst the Chinese, because they can dye them in their own peculiar style, and fit them for the tastes of the people. From what we know of the geographical nature of the country, there can be no doubt that all the green teas, and perhaps the greatest portion of the black, can be brought to Shanghae at less expense than they can be taken to Canton, or any of the other southern towns, except, perhaps, Ning-po; and as the tea-men incur less risk in taking their money home from the North, owing to the peaceable nature of the inhabitants, this will be another very great inducement to bring their teas to Shanghae. I am aware that people generally suppose the black-tea districts to be nearer the port of Foo-chow-foo than either Ning-po or Shanghae; but it must be recollected that very few of the black teas now imported to England are from the Bohee hills, as these teas are considered coarser, and much inferior in quality to other kinds, which are from a very different country, much farther to the north, and on the northern side of the great mountain range. The large silk districts of Northern China are close at hand; and there can be no doubt that a large proportion of that commodity in a raw state will be disposed of at Shanghae. Taking, therefore, all these facts into consideration—the proximity of Shanghae to the large towns of Hangchow, Soo-chow, and the ancient capital of Nanking; the large native trade, the convenience of inland transit by means of rivers and canals; the fact that teas and silks can be brought here more readily than to Canton; and, lastly, viewing this place as an immense mart for our cotton manufactures, which we already know it to be,—there can be no doubt that in a few years it will not only rival Canton, but become a place of far greater importance. And, when I add that the climate is healthy, the natives peaceable, and foreign residents respected, and allowed to walk and ride all over the country to any distance not exceeding a day's journey, it will be acknowledged that, as a place to live at, it has many advantages over its southern rival.
I have already said that this part of China is a complete net-work of rivers and canals. These were often most annoying to me in my travels over the country, when I happened to get off the Emperor's highway, a circumstance of no rare occurrence. I have often been obliged to press a boat into my service much against the will of the owners, more particularly when I visited this region for the first time, because I was then unacquainted with the localities, and the Chinese always seemed to fear I might take, or rob, their boats if I succeeded in getting into them, such were the opinions formed of foreigners at that time.
One day, in particular, I had been a considerable distance inland to the westward of Shanghae, and on my return, by some means or other, I got off the beaten track, and in pursuing my way, as I supposed in the proper direction, I was "brought up" by a large and deep canal. About two miles from where I stood, I saw a bridge, and, as it was nearly dark, I made for it as fast as I could. Unluckily, however, just as I thought my difficulties were over, being within gun-shot of the bridge, I was again stopped by another canal, which crossed the former one at right angles. I was now completely brought to a stand still, but in a few minutes I perceived a boat approaching, and a man tracking it on the same side as that on which we were. As soon as it came near, we called out to the men on board to pull the boat towards us, and allow us to get across to the other side. They seemed much frightened, and after making the man who was tracking the boat come on board, they pulled her into the middle of the canal, and then sculled away with all their might. They would soon have passed far beyond our reach, and left us to feel our way in the dark, or plunge through the deep muddy canal. Necessity, they say, has no law. "Call out to them," said I to my servant, "that if they do not immediately stop I will fire into the boat and kill the whole of them," and at the same moment I fired one of my barrels a little way ahead. This was quite sufficient. They immediately came towards us, and put us quickly over to the other side. I paid them for their trouble, and desired them to be more civil to the next traveller they might meet in the same circumstances. They went off in high spirits, and we heard them laughing and joking about the adventure long after they had passed out of our sight.
As an agricultural country, the plain of Shanghae is by far the richest which I have seen in China, and is perhaps unequalled by any district of like extent in the world. It is one vast beautiful garden. The hills nearest to Shanghae are distant about thirty miles. These have an isolated appearance in the extensive plain, and are not more than two or three hundred feet high. From their summit, on a clear day, I looked round in all directions, and was only able to see some few hills, apparently having the same isolated character, far away on the horizon, to the south; these, I have since ascertained, are near the Tartar city of Chapoo. All the rest of the country was a vast level plain, without a mountain or a hill to break the monotony of the view. The soil is a rich deep loam, and produces heavy crops of wheat, barley, rice, and cotton, besides an immense quantity of green vegetable crops, such as cabbages, turnips, yams, carrots, egg-plants, cucumbers and other articles of that kind which are grown in the vicinity of the city. The land, although level, is generally much higher than the valleys amongst the hills, or the plain round Ning-po; and, consequently, it is well adapted for the cultivation of cotton, which is, in fact, the staple production of the district. Indeed this is the great Nanking cotton country, from which large quantities of that article are generally sent in junks to the north and south of China, as well as to the neighbouring islands. Both the white kind, and that called the "yellow cotton," from which the yellow Nanking cloth is made, are produced in the district.
The soil of this district is not only remarkably fertile, but agriculture seems more advanced, and bears a greater resemblance to what it is at home, than in any part of China which I have seen. One here meets with a farm-yard containing stacks regularly built up and thatched in the same form and manner as we find them in England; the land, too, is ridged and furrowed in the same way; and were it not for plantations of bamboo, and the long tails and general costume of the natives, a man might almost imagine himself on the banks of the Thames.
A very considerable portion of the land in the vicinity of the town is occupied by the tombs of the dead.[1] In all directions large conical shaped mounds meet the eye, overgrown with long grass, and in some instances planted with shrubs and flowers. The traveller here, as well as at Ning-po and Chusan, constantly meets with coffins placed on the surface of the ground out in the fields, carefully thatched over with straw or mats to preserve them from the weather. Sometimes, though rarely, when the relatives are less careful than they generally are, I met with coffins broken or crumbling to pieces with age, exposing the remains of the dead. I was most struck with the coffins of children, which I met with every where; these are raised from the ground on a few wooden posts, and carefully thatched over to protect them from the weather—reminding the stranger that some parent, with feelings as tender and acute as his own, has been bereaved of a loved one, whom he, perhaps, expected should cheer and support him in his declining years, and whose remains he now carefully watches. Those in the higher ranks of life have, generally, a family burial-place at a little distance from the town, planted with cypress and pine trees, with a temple and altar built to hold the josses or idols, and where the various religious ceremonies are performed. A man with his family is stationed there to protect the place, and to burn candles and incense on certain high days. Others, again, are interred in what may be called public cemeteries, several of which I met with in the vicinity of Shanghae. These are large buildings, each containing a certain number of spacious halls or rooms, and having the coffins placed in rows around the sides.
A flat and highly cultivated country, such as I have just described, cannot be expected to be rich in indigenous plants. There are, however, many beautiful clumps of the bamboo growing round all the villages and small farm houses, which give a kind of tropical character to the scenery, but it is the only type of the tropics met with in this district, at least as regards trees. I have already mentioned the clumps of cypress and pine trees planted in the cemeteries of the rich, which are seen studded all over the country, and form one of its most striking features. Among these, I met for the first time with the beautiful Cryptomeria japonica, a species of pine not unlike the Araucarias of Norfolk Island and Brazil. When growing luxuriantly, it is highly ornamental, rising from the ground as straight as a larch, and sending out numerous side branches almost horizontally from the main stem, which again droop towards the ground in a graceful and "weeping" manner. The wood of the tree has a kind of twisted grain, and possesses great strength and durability. It is highly valued by the Chinese, and from its beauty and straightness is often used by the mandarins and priests for those long poles which are generally seen in front of their houses and temples. It is also well known and highly prized by the natives of Japan. My first seeds and plants of this beautiful fir were sent from Shanghae, in the autumn of 1843, and fortunately reached the garden of the Horticultural Society, at Chiswick, in excellent order. It is to be hoped that it will prove hardy, and if so, it will form a striking feature in the woods of England.