In the Eastern Seas

by William Henry Giles Kingston

The ship’s course was now directly through the China Sea—a region in which every variety of weather is encountered, from a dead calm to a furious typhoon. The northern end of the Philippine Islands was sighted on the starboard hand, and afterwards the Bashee Islands to the north of them.

“There is a large island lies away there on our right hand, called Formosa,” said the captain. “The inhabitants are Chinese. They seem even more cruel and treacherous than the rest of their countrymen. Not long ago two vessels were wrecked, and their crews made prisoners. The natives marched them off to their capital, somewhere in the middle of the island, several days’ journey from the coast, and there they kept them prisoners for many months. Some were Englishmen, others Lascars, to the number of forty or fifty. The lives of a few were saved, but they cut off the heads of all the others, declaring they were those of barbarians killed in warfare; and it is said that the chief officers who commanded this massacre gained great credit, and many rewards for their bravery. The others were carried away to Nangking, and were there going to be killed; but the English expedition came out, and were just in time to save their lives.—I don’t like the Chinese,” continued the captain. “They are treacherous, conceited, inhospitable to strangers, grossly superstitious, heartless, and cruel, though perhaps they may not be said to be bloodthirsty. Their streets are dirty in the extreme, and their houses are not much better. However, it cannot be denied that they are very industrious and persevering, and that a Chinaman will make a living where a man of another nation will starve.”

Note. The English have now a settlement in Formosa.

“Perhaps, when we come to know them better, we may find exceptions to this description,” observed Mr Hooker. “Probably we shall discover noble and high-minded men, according to the light that is in them, in China as elsewhere. I do not know that all English towns are models of cleanliness; and certainly, if left to the care of the ordinary inhabitants, many would be found as bad as those in China.”

At length the high land of the south end of Japan hove in sight. As the ship stood on towards the harbour of Nagasaki, we were all eagerly looking out on the beautiful scenery which presented itself. In many parts the coast is bold, in other places it rises from the beach in gentle hills covered with apparently impenetrable forests. The narrow entrance to the harbour now appeared, between lofty overhanging hills covered with rich vegetation. As Captain Davenport had been there before, and the wind was fair, we stood boldly on till a pilot appeared, when sail was shortened to allow him to come on board. On either side, wherever the ground would allow it, the land seemed cultivated to the summit of the highest hills. Here and there, however, the muzzles of guns were seen protruding from amidst green shrubs and trees, ready to destroy any unwelcome intruder.

As the ship advanced the harbour widened out. On one side appeared the beautiful little island of Pappenberg, so named by the Dutch, though the Japanese call it Tacabooco. Its sides rise directly out of the water in lofty precipitous cliffs, their summits crowned with dark luxuriant cedars. It was to this island that a large number of the Japanese who had been converted to Christianity by the celebrated Roman Catholic missionary Xavier were carried when they refused to abjure the religion they had adopted. Conducted up to the summits of the cliffs, they were cast over the edge, bound hand and foot, at low water, meeting certain death as they reached the rocks below. Here the mangled remains lay till the tide coming in carried them off to sea. In late years many hundred Christians were treated in a similar manner in Madagascar. We looked with sad interest at the spot, having just before read an account of the massacre.

The ship continued her progress up the inlet or gulf, which is four miles long, till at length she came to an anchor off the town of Nagasaki. On either side were towering cliffs, precipitous peaks with green and shady groves below, amid which appeared prettily-painted picturesque cottages, not altogether unlike those of Switzerland. Many small bays were passed, in which were moored little boats, kept scrupulously clean, though unpainted. The sails consisted of three stripes of sailcloth or matting, united by a kind of lacework, thus forming one whole sail for light winds. By unlacing one portion, the sail can quickly be reduced in size. The boatmen, unlike the natives of the places lately visited, were almost as fair as Europeans. They wore, however, scarcely more clothing than their brethren in more southern regions. A Japanese boat is moved by a scull in the stern, with which she is steered when under sail—no oars being used: the passengers always sit in the fore part.

As soon as the ship dropped her anchor the Japanese officials came on board, one who spoke a little English acting as interpreter. They were dressed in long flowing robes confined at the waist by a band wound round the body, in which is suspended a case containing a pipe, a tobacco-pouch, an ink-horn, and a small brush used when they write. Over this is worn a transparent dark coat with a white mark on the arms and back. On grand occasions public officials wear a similar dress of a light fawn or dove tint. A person of the rank of a gentleman invariably wears two swords stuck in his girdle. On sitting down he removes the longest, and places it against some piece of furniture at his side; but he never parts with the smaller one, which is kept sharp, and in readiness to kill himself should any accusation of a crime, false or true, be brought against him. The questions put to the captain having been satisfactorily answered, we were informed that we might discharge our cargo. The officers were then invited down into the cabin to partake of cake and wine, which they seemed greatly to enjoy. They then, bowing politely, took their departure, leaving one of their number on board, who was to remain while the ship was anchored in the harbour.

Mr Hooker had a friend here, a merchant, who came on board to see him. Emily and I were introduced; and he invited us, and Grace also, to come and stay at his house with Mr Hooker, while the ship remained off the place. The residence of the merchant was situated on a platform on the side of a hill surrounded by trees, at a little distance from the town. The house had broad verandahs, every door sliding backwards and forwards in grooves, instead of opening and shutting in the ordinary fashion. In the garden were quantities of lovely flowers, and it had a pond in the centre. The pond was full of wonderfully large gold and silver fish, which were always ready to exhibit their lovely tints when bits of bread were thrown in to them. The girls especially were delighted with the beauty of the wild flowers in the surrounding woods, many of them such as would be valued in a garden in England. Surpassing all others, however, were the camelia trees, some fully thirty feet high, their lovely flowers shining out amid their dark-green foliage. We were told that the camelia is so called in honour of a Spanish Jesuit—Camel—who brought it to Europe, where it is known as the Camelia japonica. From one kind, the oleifera, a large amount of oil is extracted, used in Japan for domestic purposes. The beautiful lotus also is common; the Japanese using the root when young for food. When thoroughly boiled, it is very palatable. Mr Hooker was well pleased with the cleanliness of the streets; so superior in that respect to those of China. They are nearly all paved in the centre, which is slightly raised, and have drains running down close to the houses on either side. Thus all impurities are carried away, and they soon become dry, even after the heaviest shower of rain. Large plantations of tea exist in the neighbourhood, the leaf being prepared in the Chinese fashion. The trade in this article alone has greatly increased since the ports of the country have been opened. I give a drawing of a Chinese tea-plantation, which is very similar to those we saw in Japan. The house seen in the sketch is the drying-house. The tea-plant is produced from seed which is dropped into holes, several together, four inches deep and four feet apart, in December. When the rain comes on, the plants spring up and form bushes. In about three years they yield their first crop of leaves. In about eight years they are cut down, that fresh shoots may spring up. The leaves are gathered singly with great care—in three gatherings: the first, when they just open; the last, when fully expanded. When gathered, they are first partially dried in the sun, and then placed on flat iron pans above furnaces in the drying-house. They require frequent shifting and turning. When sufficiently dried, they are removed with a shovel on to a mat or basket to cool, and then to a table to be rolled. This process is repeated, and they are then sifted and sorted. As far as we could learn, both black and green teas are the produce of the same plant, but prepared in a somewhat different way.

I was, of course, very eager to learn all I could about the country; but there seemed so much to learn, and so little time to learn it in, that I was frequently almost in despair. The Japanese, although idolaters, and very unlike Europeans, are evidently a very civilised people. They have had for centuries their manners and customs unchanged, and their ideas are peculiar, according to our notions. Soon after we arrived, our new friend had to pay a visit to the Governor of Nagasaki. The heat was great; but Mr Hooker begged that we might belong to the party. The Japanese, like wise people, except in cases of necessity, do not leave their cool houses during the heat of the day. The town appeared therefore almost deserted. The main street is broad and clean, the inhabitants being generally government officials and retainers of the chiefs, called Daimios. At about every hundred yards there is a barrier gate. These gates are closed every evening, when a light is suspended from the beam above, or a paper lantern is hung from one of the side posts.