The canal reaches the Yellow River about 70 miles from its mouth; but before leaving the lakes in the southern part of Shantung, it used to run nearly parallel with that stream for more than a hundred miles, and between it and the New Salt River during a good part of this distance. It is hard to understand how, by natural causes, so powerful a river, as it is described to be by the historians of both the British embassies less than one hundred years ago, should have become so completely choked up. The difference of level near Kaifung is found to be so very little that the siltage there has been enough to turn the current into the river Wei and elsewhere. When Amherst’s embassy passed, the boats struck right across the stream, and gained the opposite bank, about three-fourths of a mile distant, in less than an hour. They drifted about two miles down, and then slowly brought up against the current to the spot where the canal entered. This opening was a sluice nearly a hundred yards across, and through it the waters rushed into the river like a mill-race; the banks were constructed of earth, strengthened with sorghum stalks, and strongly bound with cordage. Sir John Davis remarks, with the instinct of a tradesman, as he commends the perseverance and industry which had overcome these obstacles, that if the science of a Brunel could be allowed to operate on the Yellow River and Grand Canal, “a benefit might be conferred on the Chinese that would more than compensate for all the evil that we have inflicted with our opium and our guns.” The boats were dragged through and up the sluice close to the bank by ropes communicating with large windlasses worked on the bank, which safely, though slowly, brought them into still water.
The distance between the Yellow and Yangtsz’ rivers is about ninety miles, and the canal here is carried largely upon a raised work of earth, kept together by retaining walls of stone, and not less than twenty feet above the surrounding country in some parts. This sheet of water is about two hundred feet wide, and its current nearly three miles an hour. South of the Hwang ho several large towns stand near the levees, below their level, whose safety wholly depends upon the care taken of the banks of the canal. Hwai-ngan and Pauying lie thus under and near them, in such a position as to cause an involuntary shudder at the thought of the destruction which would take place if they should give way. The level descends from these towns to the Yangtsz’, and at Yangchau the canal is much below the houses on its sides. It also connects with every stream or lake whose waters can be led into it. There are two or three inlets into the Yangtsz’ where the canal reaches the northern bank, but Chinkiang, on the southern shore, is regarded as the principal defence and post of its crossing. The canal leaves the river east of that city, proceeds south-east to Suchau, and thence southerly on the eastern side of lake Tai, with which it communicates, to Hangchau in Chehkiang. This portion is by far the most interesting and picturesque of the whole line, owing to its rich and populous cities, the fertility and high cultivation of the banks, and the lively aspect imparted by the multitude of boats. Though Kublai has had the credit of this useful work, it existed in parts of its course long before his day. The reach between the two great rivers was opened in the Han dynasty, and repaired by the wise founder of the Sui dynasty (A.D. 600). The princes of the Tang dynasty kept it open, and when the Sung emperors lived at Hangchau they made the extension up to Chinkiang the great highway which it is to this day. The work from Peking to the Yellow River was opened by the Mongols about 1289, in which they merely joined the rivers and lakes to each other as they now exist. The Ming and Tsing emperors have done all they could to keep it open throughout, and lately an attempt has been made to reopen the passage from Hungtsih Lake north into the old bed, so that boats can reach Tientsin from Kwachau. Its entire length is about 650 miles, or not quite twice that of the Erie Canal, but it varies in its breadth and depth more than any important canal either of America or Europe.
As a work of art, compared with canals now existing in western countries, the Transit River does not rank high; but even at this day there is no work of the kind in Asia which can compare with it, and there was none in the world equal to it when first put in full operation. It passes through alluvial soil in every part of its course, and the chief labor was expended in constructing embankments, and not in digging a deep channel. The junction of the Yun ho, about lat. 36° N., was probably taken as the summit level. From this point northward the trench was dug through to Lintsing to join the Yu ho, and embankments thrown up from the same place southward to the Yellow River, the whole being a line of two hundred miles. In some places the bed is cut down thirty, forty, and even seventy feet, but it encountered no material obstacle. The sluices which keep the necessary level are of rude construction, and thick planks, sliding in grooves hewn in stone buttresses, form the only locks. Still, the objects intended are all fully gained, and the simplicity of the means certainly does not derogate from the merit and execution of the plan.[19]
CANALS.
There are some other inferior canals in the empire. Kienlung constructed a waste-weir for carrying off the surplus waters of the Yellow River of about a hundred miles in length, by cutting a canal from Ífung hien in Honan, to one of the principal affluents of lake Hungtsih. It also answered as a drain for the marshy land in that part, and has probably recently served to convey the floods from the main stream into the lake. In the vicinity of Canton and Suchau are many channels cut through the plains, which serve both for irrigation and navigation, but they are not worthy the name of canals. Similar conveniences are more or less frequently met with in all parts of the provinces, notably those on the Plain and low coast-lands.
A Road-Cut in the Loess.
PUBLIC ROADS.
The public roads, in a country so well provided with navigable streams, are of minor consequence, but these media of travel are not neglected. “I have travelled near 600 leagues by land in China,” observes De Guignes, “and have found many good roads, most of them wide and planted with trees. They are not usually paved, and consequently in rainy weather are either channelled by the water or covered with mud, and in dry weather so dusty that travellers are obliged to wear spectacles to protect their eyes. In Kwangtung transportation is performed almost wholly by water, the only roads being across the lines of navigation. The pass across the Mei ling is paved or filled up with stones; at Kih-ngan, in Kiangsí, are paved roads in good condition, but beyond the Yangtsz’, in Nganhwui, they were almost impracticable, but became better as we proceeded northward, and in many places had trees on both sides. Beyond the Hwang ho they were broader, and we saw crowds of travellers, carts, mules, and horses. In Shantung and Chihlí they were generally broad and shady, and very dusty. This is, no doubt, disagreeable, but we went smoothly over these places, while in the villages and towns we were miserably jolted on the pavements. I hope, for the sake of those who may come after me, that the Chinese will not pave their roads before they improve their carriages. Some of the thoroughfares leading to Peking are paved with thick slabs of stone. One feature of the roads through the northern provinces which attracts attention is the great number that lie below the level of the country. It is caused by the wind sweeping along them, and carrying over the fields the dust made and raised by the carts. As soon as the pools left by the rains dry enough to let the carts pass, the earth is reduced to powder; as the winds sweep through the passage and clear it out, the process in a few years cuts a defile through the loam often fifteen feet deep, which impedes travel by its narrow gauge, hindering the carts as they meet. The banks are protected by revetment walls or turf, if necessary. Those near Hangchau, and the great road leading from Chehkiang into Kiangsí, are all in good condition. Generally speaking, however, as is the case with most things in China, the roads are not well repaired, and large holes are frequently allowed to remain unfilled in the path, to the great danger of those who travel by night.”[20]