[1] Charles Knight and Co., Ludgate Street, 1840.
[2] Prussiate of iron, and sulphate of lime.
[3] The turmeric and gypsum are perfectly innocuous; but the prussian blue, being a combination of prussic acid with iron, is a poison.
CHAP. XII.
CHUSAN ARCHIPELAGO.—STORM IN A SMALL BOAT.—NEARLY UPSET.—KIN-TANG, OR SILVER ISLAND.—ITS INHABITANTS.—THEIR SURPRISE ON SEEING A FOREIGNER.—YANG-TSE-KIANG RIVER.—ITS NUMEROUS SAND BANKS.—OUR SCHOONER AGROUND.—NOVEL METHOD OF GETTING ASSISTANCE FROM THE CHINESE.—VILLAGE OF WOO-SUNG.—OPIUM STATION.—REMARKS ON THE OPIUM TRADE.—ITS EFFECTS UPON THE CHINESE.
In the summer of 1844 I was frequently engaged in exploring the islands of the Chusan Archipelago, more particularly that portion which lies between Chusan and the opposite shores of the main-land. It was of course necessary for this purpose to employ Chinese boats, which are not very trustworthy. The distance from Chusan to the town of Chinhae, at the mouth of the Ning-po river, is about thirty miles. A sail across a sea such as this is generally pleasant enough, because the water, which is hemmed in on all sides, is frequently as smooth as a mill-pond. Sometimes, however, the wind comes down in gusts from the openings amongst the hills, and then the little China boats are all laid nearly upon their beam-ends before the sail can be taken in. Once, in particular, I had a narrow escape from a watery grave amongst these islands. I had engaged a boat to take me across from the city of Ning-po to Chusan; and, as I was in a hurry at the time, I was anxious to reach my destination as soon as possible. The wind blew rather fresh as we were going down the Ning-po river, and when we reached the town of Chinhae, at its mouth, evening had set in, and the sky had a threatening and stormy appearance. The boatmen pointed this out to me, and were anxious to remain where we were until daylight. As I was afraid of being too late for a passage in an English vessel, which was then at anchor in the bay of Chusan, I would not consent to this prudent proposal, but insisted that they should proceed across without further delay. After exhausting all their arguments, they at length unwillingly got up the anchor, and we proceeded on our voyage. The land and hills on our way from Ning-po to the mouth of the river had sheltered us, and prevented me from feeling the full force of the wind; but no sooner had we passed the forts, and reached the open sea, than I found I had done a very foolish thing in urging the boatmen to take me across in such a night, and I would gladly have gone back had it been prudent or indeed possible to have done so. It was now, however, too late, for with a strong spring tide and a heavy head sea, it was impossible to get back again to Chinhae, and we therefore kept on in the direction of Chusan. "Are you not carrying too much sail in such a wind as this, and with such a heavy rolling sea?" said I to the captain of the boat, an old weather-beaten man from the province of Fokien. "No fear, no fear," he replied in his broken Chusan English, "my can manage he." "But I think there is fear, Fokei," I replied; and the words were scarcely said, when a tremendous gust came down upon us, and at the same moment a heavy sea struck the side of our boat, and laid her fairly on her beam-ends. In an instant the boat filled in all her divisions from bow to stern. "Lower the sail, lower the sail, quick, quick," cried the helmsman, "or we shall all go to the bottom." Several of the crew flew to the sail, which fortunately came down readily, and our little craft righted once more, but rolled and plunged very heavily in consequence of the great quantity of water in her hold, and seemed as if she would go down at every plunge, and leave us exposed to the fury of the waves. We again got a few feet of sail hoisted, and kept her away before the wind. It was now dark, not a star was to be seen in the heavens, the mountains, although not distinctly visible, yet loomed through the gloom, and the only objects clearly distinguished were some lights flickering on the distant shore. The crew now surrounded the helmsman, and besought him to try and get back to Chinhae, but I was sailor enough to know that if we attempted to put the helm down and bring the boat round, in all probability we should ship another sea, and had we done so we must have gone down. I immediately went and stood by the helmsman, and kept the crew from interfering, telling him to keep on our course and try to get under the lee of some island as soon as possible. The men now began to throw off their clothes as a last resource, and so completely lost all their self-possession that no remonstrances could induce them to attend to the boat and get some of the water out of her. The captain or helmsman, however, did his duty well, and to his firmness and knowledge we, doubtless, owed our lives. Providentially the wind lulled for a short time, which enabled us to hoist more sail; and soon afterwards we got to leeward of one of the numerous small islands which are scattered over this part of the coast. As soon as we had anchored all hands began baling the water out of the boat. We were in a most pitiful condition, all our clothes and beds being completely soaked with seawater; some plants, but luckily only duplicates, which I had with me, were, of course, totally destroyed; but our hearts were light, and we were thankful that our lives had been saved. Before daylight the boat was all right again, and as the weather had moderated, we were able to proceed on our course to Chusan.
Kintang, or Silver Island, as it is called by the English, is a large island in this archipelago. Although near Chusan, it was seldom visited by any of the English there; but its hills and valleys were very interesting in a botanical point of view, and on that account I was in the habit of anchoring my little boat in some of its numerous bays, and exploring its botanical productions. The surprise of the simple inhabitants, many of whom had never left the island in their lives, was often very great when I came down unexpectedly upon their little villages. The reader will easily credit this, if he will only picture to himself the surprise and astonishment with which a Chinese would be regarded were he to appear suddenly in some secluded village in the highlands of Scotland or Wales, where no such phenomenon had ever been seen before. I remember, on one occasion, that having toiled up to the top of one of the beautiful hills on the island of Kintang, I observed on the other side of the hill, a few yards below me, a Chinese youth engaged in cutting the long grass and bushes for fire-wood. As he was employed he did not observe me, and I approached the place where he was at work, and standing upon a rock a few feet above him, made some noise to attract his attention. He looked up, and never shall I forget the look he gave me. Had I been a being from another world he could not have been more astonished; indeed, I suppose he thought that I had fallen from the clouds, or come out from the bowels of the hills. For a second or two he stood in silent amazement, seemingly completely paralysed, and then throwing his grass-knife away, fled down the hill over rocks and stones with a rapidity hardly credible, nor did he ever look behind, until he had crossed the narrow valley, and reached the village on the opposite side. The news was soon communicated to the villagers, who rushed out of their houses and assembled in great numbers in front of their buildings. I walked slowly and quietly down towards them, and soon removed all their fears. My young friend the grass cutter was very shy at first, but we parted excellent friends.
The port of Shanghae is situated about 80 or 100 miles to the north-west of Chusan, the latter being in lat. 30° north, and the former in 31° 20'. On leaving the Chusan group of Islands, and sailing to the northward in the direction of Shanghae we pass the Bay of Hangchow on the left, and enter the mouth of the noble Yang-tse-kiang, the "child of the Ocean," as its name implies. The country, which, up to this degree of latitude from the south, is very mountainous, now changes, and becomes perfectly level. The shores of the river are, in many places, lower than the river itself, which is kept within its bounds by large and strong embankments. The mountainous scenery disappears entirely, and even from the top of the highest mast of a ship, no hill is seen to bound the distant horizon—all the view is a vast level plain. This is what is called the valley of the Yang-tse-kiang, and is the great northern Nanking cotton district. The land is a deep rich loam, and is without doubt the finest in China, if not in the world.