Much was said of the so-called tea-gardens of Shanghai; but, on reaching them, great was our astonishment to find that they ought rather to be called tea-ponds. According to our notions, land and grass, and plants and flowers, are supposed to belong to gardens—even to tea-gardens; but, at Shanghai, it is quite the reverse, for water predominates.
Ornamental gardening in China, properly so called, is extremely uncommon. At Canton there is a very good garden belonging to a Hong merchant; but, generally speaking, the land is too precious, for the purpose of producing food, to permit the Chinese to devote much space even to fruits.
At the entrance to the tea-gardens our approach was greeted by the plaintive voice of an old woman, who professed to sing songs to the accompaniment of an instrument of a peculiar kind, covered with snakeskin. It had three strings fastened to a long handle, with a small drum at the end of it, and was played with a bow.
The gardens were more remarkable from their novelty than their beauty. The place consisted in reality of a sheet of nearly stagnant water, with paths or platforms, or little islands, intersecting it in various directions, upon which were built summer-houses, or pavilions of various shapes, in Chinese style, in which the good citizens of Shanghai assemble to drink tea (at any hour of the day), and smoke the pipe, which is a Chinaman's invariable companion, for recreation. There were also a few walks among heaps of stones, called artificial rocks, with seats scattered here and there; but in most respects the whole place greatly disappointed our expectations.
Among the most remarkable objects at Shanghai were the enormous ice-houses, both within and without the city, in which ice is stored for public use. This was a perfect luxury to our soldiers and sailors when the place was taken.
We spent the night in a deserted joss-house, close to the landing-place; and, during the evening and the following day, crowds of curious visitors came to look at us, and made themselves agreeable as well as they could. They seemed to be particularly pleased with the Company's new rupees with the queen's head upon them, and willingly gave half a dollar each for them;—being rather more than their value. Glass bottles were in great request, and the brandy was pronounced excellent.
One of the principal mandarins came down to pay us a visit, preceded by criers and runners; then came whippers-in, and a couple of executioners, with chains in their hands, as a sign of their calling; then came the great man, seated in a very gay sedan-chair; next followed a couple of dirty-looking fellows with gigantic fans; and two or three men mounted on ponies closed the procession. The people stood on either side the street, and gazed in silence. They had little curiosity about the movements of the great man, but a vast deal concerning every step or look of the strange-looking foreigners. The mandarin was extremely courteous and well-bred towards us, and we observed that he was treated with great deference, and no one except ourselves dared to sit in his presence.
An interesting incident occurred at Shanghai, not long after the peace. Sir Henry Pottinger, on his return from Nankin, went up in a steamer to Shanghai, to make arrangements about the future place of residence for our consul, and also to settle about the ransom-money of the city. One morning, a boat came alongside the steamer, having on board a very respectable-looking man, in Chinese costume, who sent up his card as "M. l'Evêque de Nankin," at the same time requesting an interview with the plenipotentiary.[67] This was readily acceded to. It now appeared that this gentleman was the head of the Roman-catholic missionaries of the province or district of Nankin; that he had been many years in China, suffering great tribulation, and in continual danger of his life; that the missionaries had suffered great hardships, and many of them had lost their lives. For a great length of time he had not been able to hold any communication with his fellow-labourers in any other part of China, and had been deprived of all tidings from any other country. He had lived in fear and trembling, but had personally escaped persecution by leading a very retired and unobtrusive life, and particularly by avoiding all interference in public matters. He had been afraid to make himself known, or to have any communication with Europeans, as long as the war lasted, as it would probably have caused him trouble. His flock was numerous, but scattered. He had supported himself entirely by his missionary labours, and had now joyfully seized the opportunity to request that letters might be conveyed for him to Macao. He had removed from Nankin, on the approach of our forces; and altogether there was much interest attached to his history.