Part 16

My next halting-place was Foochow; this visit was one of the most delightful events of the trip. The coasting steamers cannot go up the river, so it is necessary to tranship on to a launch at Pagoda Anchorage. We had spent more than six hours waiting to cross the bar, and it was a lovely sight at dawn to see all the myriads of fishing-boats; as we came slowly up the river they looked like flocks of birds with widespread wings. It was nine miles up to the city, and as we reached a stopping-place I inquired from a fellow-passenger if it were the place for me to get off, but was told the main landing-stage was further up. Before reaching it a pleasant young Chinaman asked in excellent English if he could be of service; having heard me mention the C.M.S., said he belonged to it. He was most helpful, took charge of my luggage, escorted me to the office where he was employed, telephoned to Trinity College to say I had arrived, got tea, and finally set me on the road with a guide. Mr. L. K. Wang certainly was a credit to his school. I met my kind hostess, Mrs. Norton, on the road to meet me with her servant, having already sent him down three times that morning to look for me. The arrival of steamers is a most uncertain business.

Foochow is a treaty port and of no great antiquity: it was founded in the fourteenth century and was opened to foreign trade in 1861. The population is reckoned from six to eight hundred thousand, and it is the headquarters of an ever-increasing number of foreign firms in consequence of its growing trade. The tea trade is the most important. The city lies on both banks of the river, and there are two long bridges called the Bridge of the Ten Thousand Ages connected by a little island, leading from one part of the city to the other. We took about an hour in swift-running rickshas to go from the college to the centre of the city on the further side of the river to visit Miss Faithfull-Davies’ school. It was just breaking up for the summer holidays, as also Miss Waring’s girls’ school, which we visited another day; but we saw in full swing schools for the blind,[29] which seem to be admirably conducted, and an orphanage, where there was an elaborate plant design in the garden made by the boys. I asked if it was the name of the school, but was told it was the date of “the day of shame,” namely of the Japanese triumph; it is striking to see how deeply this is felt everywhere and that it should show itself in such a manner.

It rained and rained and rained at Foochow, and the floods rose high round the garden, which is situated on a hill, till we could no longer go through the main entrance. It was dreadfully disappointing, as it put all excursions out of the question. However, the days flew past with great rapidity, and I went on visiting hospitals and schools; the school of sericulture was interesting, and we saw the various processes. On leaving, the director paid me the compliment of offering me a handful of worms! One of the most interesting forms of lacquer work, for which Foochow is famous, is that done on silk. Bowls are made of it and are as light as a feather and flexible. They take about eight to twelve months to make and are wonderfully resistant to water and heat, so that they can be boiled without injury. Other beautiful lacquer things are made on finely carved wood, and the lacquer is most lovely in colour when gold and silver dust are used. They wrap the articles up in the softest, toughest, thinnest paper I have ever seen; it feels like silk.

It was a matter of continual interest to me to be living in the middle of a college, and to see the four hundred boys and youths at work and play. Trinity College is so called because it is part of the Dublin University Fukien Mission, and was the result of the Pan-Anglican Conference in London, 1908. The three schools already existed and were combined to form this college in 1912; a beautiful chapel was also built, a gymnasium, houses for the masters, and a vernacular middle school in memory of the martyr, Robert Stewart. The spirit of the place was fine, and I once again realized how far ahead the mission field is in the spirit of unity and progress, when the headmaster asked me, woman and Nonconformist, to address the boys in the chapel: it was an inspiring audience.

I began to be afraid as the floods continued to rise that it would be a difficult matter to leave Foochow. In order to reach the shipping office (to take my passage) we had to go through the streets in boats, and actually through a garden to the window of the office. Boys were having a great time punting precariously on doors, which served as rafts, and headlong plunges into the water were greeted with shrieks of laughter. I left next day, with the water still rising, and was truly sorry to say good-bye to my friends and Foochow.

The launch took me rapidly down stream to the steamer _Haiching_ which was due to sail at dawn, and the storm clouds and driving rain formed a fine background to the encircling mountains. All down the China coast the scenery is wild, and innumerable rocky islands make navigation very dangerous. The captain beguiled us at meals with stories of the dangers we were encountering in this “dirty weather.” When the weather is bad in the Pacific it alters all the currents round the coast, although the surface may look smooth. At one point he used to allow a margin of seven miles to round certain rocks, yet found himself one day just shaving round them: after that experience he allowed ten miles. The weather is continually wet and foggy in these seas, but this season was exceptionally bad, and for the first time in his experience there had been no cargo from Foochow.

The boat bobbed up and down like a cork. There was a fine mascot on board in the shape of a black sow. She was very clean and very dainty, with an appetite for chocolates, and oranges, which she required to be peeled. She had been five years on board and had gone through the campaign, when the ship visited Basra and other places on war duty. The captain was warm in praise of his Chinese crew, preferring them to all other nationalities: they do their work well and contentedly and require no bullying. A voyage of twenty-four hours brought us to smooth water outside Amoy, and the cook from the English Presbyterian ladies’ house came at 6.30 in a sampan to take me ashore, for there is no landing-stage. It was still raining and very hot.

Amoy is a most extraordinary place, with round black rocks like puddings in every direction. One of the features of the place is the little graves, just like plates on the surface of the ground, due to the curious way they deal with the dead. After they have been buried for a certain length of time, they take up the coffins and carefully count the bones that none may be missing and put them in a jar with a lid on: it is this lid which shows when the jar is put in the earth.

I found my kind hostesses overwhelmed with work, but they nobly made time to take me to see the various schools and colleges, and also a visiting missionary took me across the bay to visit some alms-houses (built by a Chinese lady) and also the first Chinese church built in Amoy. The pastor took us by a delightful paved pathway to see a noted Buddhist shrine. I have occasionally met Buddhist present-day saints, but here I saw one in the making. He is enclosed in a hole in a rock and is locked in, as if in a cage; once a day his food is brought and we saw a monk unlock the door and put it in, speaking no word. The embryo saint must never speak. It takes several years of this stultifying life to attain sainthood. A much more attractive Buddhist was one of the attendants at the temple, on whose head I observed the marks of branding. I asked our guide to inquire how he had endured the torture, and his face quite lighted up as he replied: “Your Christ felt no suffering on the cross, nor did I for the joy of winning salvation.”

A charming Chinese secretary, Mr. Wang, showed us over the Y.M.C.A., which has the most picturesque building imaginable amongst the black boulders, to one of which there is a bright red paved causeway. Mr. Wang took us into the Chamber of Commerce, where we met two Edinburgh trained engineers who are engaged on a scheme for sanitation and a new road. Almost every city in China now has a Chamber of Commerce: this is quite a modern innovation and is a Government concern under the Ministry of Commerce. Only rich merchants can belong to them because the fees are so high. They are not very popular among the people because of their attitude during the student strikes; but they have a certain value for general trade purposes, although the guilds are much more important.

I had pleasant evenings at our consulate and at the postal commissioners’, making the acquaintance of the British and American colony. Their gardens were gay with flowers. But again the rain came down, and when we visited a Chinese school at Chien Be our day was rather spoilt by it. Mr. Wang borrowed a little steam launch to take us there, as it is a considerable distance away. He told us how Mr. Dan had made a fortune in the Straits Settlements, where he had seen much of the British and had conceived a desire to imitate their philanthropy. Having had little education as a boy he decided to build schools and finally a university on European lines. He was his own architect, and had succeeded in building spacious and well-planned school house, dormitories, etc.; he is now putting up a similar school for girls. At present they are housed in a neighbouring village, while Mr. Dan and his family live in a cottage in the simplest manner possible. It is really a fine place and most generously supported in every way. The salaries of teachers are from twenty-five to thirty-five dollars, whereas in the missions they receive five dollars. This is one of the new difficulties confronting all missions: the salaries of their workers must be quadrupled in order to approach those of Government and other employees.

I left Amoy in pouring rain and had a good little voyage to Swatow on a most comfortable steamer, reaching it at 6 a.m. Here again one has to go ashore in a sampan, and the ladies sent their cook in one to fetch me. The English Presbyterian Mission has charming quarters, their only drawback being that they are too near the execution ground, and they may have houses built in front of them. At present they have a lovely view over the bay. Dr. Heyworth has charge of a nice big women’s hospital, where there is an admirable Chinese staff of nurses. It is an infinite pity that there should be so small a European staff—only a man and a woman apiece for the two hospitals, and they have in addition to train their own staff. Miss Paton has charge of the girls’ school, and I must again note how such busy workers found time to give me the most delightful hospitality. Of course there are European hotels in Amoy, Swatow and Foochow, etc., for there is an ever-increasing number of foreign merchants in these cities, but I have had the good fortune to stay with missionary friends, so cannot speak of the hotels from personal experience. It makes travelling for foreigners, however, much simpler than it used to be, and a trip along the China coast is a delightful one, for the scenery is most beautiful and there are all kinds of interesting places to visit—when it does not rain!

Dr. Heyworth took me for an excursion by rail up to the town of Chao Chow, stopping on the way to visit a Chinese family, who have beautiful ancestral halls and some of the finest modern stone carvings in the architecture of these buildings. The stone is green, and the effect of the carving is heightened by cunning touches of green and gold paint. We went by chair across the ricefields from the railway to the village, about two miles distant. The rice was being hastily cleared from the stone threshing floors where it had been husked, on account of a lowering sky, and the village was humming like a busy hive of bees. Mr. Tan and a cousin met us on his threshold, and it was a revelation to see this perfect type of a Chinese country house. The restrained beauty of detail was great; for instance, a large courtyard had an orange curtain as a canopy, casting a subdued golden light over the tall earthenware tubs, from which stately lotus blossoms and leaves reared themselves. The ancestral shrine faced this courtyard and the tablets were of choicest lacquer, surrounded by handsomely carved furniture. Mr. Tan’s grandfather built this family shrine, and it took ten skilled sculptors thirty years to accomplish it. There were bronzes and a wealth of artistic things reflected in the marble floors, the only jarring note being the European lamps and chandeliers. After being introduced to the ladies of the family we were taken to call at two houses, where we made the acquaintance of other members of the family. The most noticeable feature of these houses were the porcelain decorations of the roofs. All sorts of blossoms, rose and white and other colours, stood out in delicate tracery against the sky. These porcelain decorations are a speciality of southern Chinese art, and on the ancestral temple at Canton are most elaborate groups of figures and even landscapes. Panels of open-work pottery are let into the walls.

Mr. Tan took us to see a school supported by his family where a hundred bright smart-looking boys were hard at work. He has a large business in Singapore, and it is a curious fact that from Swatow and district goes forth a continuous stream of colonists to the Straits Settlements, Hong Kong and elsewhere. They always return with accumulated wealth. Swatow itself is the fifth largest trading port of China, and has a population of some ten millions behind it, for which it is the natural outlet.

Mr. Tan took leave of us at the Baptist Chapel, where we received a very friendly welcome. The Southern American Baptists have a great many village stations and about fifty workers, not counting the Chinese staff—a great contrast to our English missions! They do mainly educational and evangelistic, also some medical work. In Swatow they have a hopeful field for social service, but as they live on the further side of the bay I had not time to go across to see their fine buildings, schools, hospital, etc.; they propose building a big church in Swatow. The American Government has established cinema lecture courses for Chinese communities, and they get the missionaries to use them in order to make known American trade and commerce, and American life in general.

We returned by chair to the railway and were met at Chao Chowfu by Dr. Wight. It is a station of the English Presbyterian Mission, but he was the sole European representative there at the time. No doubt the Chinese workers are thereby obliged to take more responsibility and work than would otherwise be the case, but really it is too hard on the one Englishman, and how can a hospital be satisfactorily run on such lines?

There was a severe earthquake some years ago which brought the church and hospital buildings to the ground, but happily all the patients were rescued in time. We saw over the new hospital, which seemed well planned and in good working order. The city needs such a hospital, and one regretted to see the American Mission Colony across the river, so far away from the busy haunts of men. The bridge was as fascinating as it was curious—large masonry piers, with stones reaching from one to the other some fifteen to eighteen feet long. Shops ply a busy trade on the piers and a big shady tree grows out of one of them. In the centre of the Han River there is a wide bridge of swaying boats connected on either side by a stone stairway with the adjacent piers. On the river we noticed most picturesque boats with threefold sails; these belong to the Hakka people, an indigenous race, quite different from the Chinese, who live further inland.

The streets of the town are most attractive, full of amusing shops, and we noticed that private houses had little doorways for their dogs: some of these had suspended doors, so that the dogs could push their way in. As there is a population of some three or four hundred thousand in Chao Chowfu, with a hundred and eighty villages in the adjacent district, it is a busy place; and there are sixty to seventy schools in it. One most interesting Buddhist temple we visited, in which a stone monument has been put up by the city in honour of Dr. Ross and Mr. James for their work during a cholera epidemic.

We returned next day to Swatow, where the guide-book tells you there is nothing to see. On the contrary, I found a great deal to see under Dr. Whyte’s guidance. A temple was being redecorated with beautiful paintings of most delicate and imaginative workmanship all along its walls. The tireless skill and industry of the artists filled me with envy. The trades of the place were fascinating; as for instance the soldering of pans with holes in them. The mender has his boiling metal in a portable heater and handles it with a glove, dabbing little patches round the hole till it is filled up. While watching with absorbed interest I felt a stealthy hand taking a few stray cash out of my pocket, but the thief was so inexperienced that when I caught his hand he dropped the cash into mine! Another interesting but rather hot sight was the blowing of glass lamp-chimneys. Yet another less pleasing industry was the canning of lychees; about a hundred dirty little girls are employed in it. I will draw a veil over this, or no one would eat the delicacy, which I had greatly enjoyed up to that time. A vision of Tiptree flashed across my mind: it would be a beautiful thing to have Tiptree in China. The fruits at Swatow are so lovely: to see the stalls piled up with pomeloes, pineapples, peaches, lychees, bananas, dragon’s eyes and other fruit make one’s mouth water. Equally beautiful—though horrible in smell—are the fish stalls, but here the names are quite beyond me.

One afternoon we had an amusing ride through the ricefields, where the process of harvesting was in full swing. The vehicle for such travel is a comfortable wicker chair to hold two persons (first class), or four (second class) in a less comfortable chair. The chairs are on runners, on a light railway line; they are pushed by swift coolies, so that they go at a good pace. Extra cash = express speed!

We met a few missionaries here on their way for a summer holiday to a health resort, but it takes time and money to reach any such place, and travelling up-country here seems very fatiguing, especially with slender means. I regretfully parted from the congenial group of missionaries who had conspired to give me such a pleasant time, and set off with several ladies for Hong Kong.

It is always delightful to me to stay there; it is one of the most beautiful spots in the world, but it makes me feel inordinately proud of being British. It is a feather in our cap that the Chinese love to come and live there. When it was first ceded to Britain in 1841 its native population was 4,000 (including the leased port of Kowloon, across the bay); in 1911 it was 444,664 Chinese and 12,089 other nationalities—that is a remarkable record for seventy years. We have 4,673 British military and naval forces there. It is the greatest shipping and the greatest banking centre of the East. No contrast could be greater than that afforded by a visit to the neighbouring port of Macao, the first foreign settlement in China, and only forty miles away. It was first opened for Portuguese traders to build factories there in 1557, and was the only open port till we obtained Hong Kong. The Portuguese were an adventurous and energetic race in those days: it was the emporium of trade in Eastern Asia for three hundred years. To-day it is the most dead-alive place that I have ever visited, and its population is eighty thousand. It is a charming spot, with delicious sea breezes, making the climate far preferable to that of Hong Kong. Its industries (?) are gambling and opium smuggling, with their attendant vices.

An interesting detail is that the dominant colour of Macao is _red_. The dominant colour in China, on the other hand, is _blue_. It may interest some of my readers to note this, and to compare it with the fact that the dominant colour in India is red, the sensuous, as contrasted with blue, the non-sensuous. It seems to me very characteristic of race differences.

We were fortunate enough to be at Macao for an interesting aeroplane function: the opening of an American aerial service between Macao, Hong Kong and Canton. A large and cheerful party of Americans came to the hotel where we were staying, and there was a turn-out of the whole population to see the ceremony. On every rock and vantage point above the lovely bay figures were perched expectant, and the quay was crowded. Unfortunately the necessary petrol had not arrived, and the machines just put inquisitive noses outside their sheds and then withdrew. We did not succeed in penetrating the mystery why the American Company should have selected Macao for such a purpose. No doubt they have some astute reason. The service between Hong Kong and Canton ought to be a useful one commercially.

The lack of railways and roads in China is a tremendous handicap to the country, and the Government has already turned its attention to aviation. An English firm was successful in obtaining from it the contract (in 1918) to supply a hundred commercial aeroplanes, and to construct the necessary aerodromes, supply and repair depôts, etc. The aeroplanes have already been completed, and a service is started from Peking to Shanghai. It will be most interesting to see how the experiment turns out. The planes are like those used for crossing the Atlantic and can carry twelve passengers and luggage. The adviser to the Chinese Government is Lt.-Col. F. Vesey Holt, who is at Peking, with a staff of skilled pilots and engineers.

We enjoyed the hospitality of the Customs Commissioner, and heard of the difficulties of combating opium smuggling and of working an international customs service. The Japanese unfortunately are pushing the opium trade with considerable success.

I made another excursion from Hong Kong of the greatest interest, namely to Canton. It is now the seat of the Southern Government, which is not recognized, however, by any of the foreign powers. The Cantonese are very different from the Northern Chinese and their language is wholly unintelligible to them. They are the cleverest and most advanced people in the empire, and have traded with Europeans regularly since the seventeenth century; they have in consequence been influenced by Western ideas to a certain extent. The native population is estimated at two millions, of whom two hundred thousand live in boats; there are many foreign merchants as well as missionaries of various nationalities. Its hospitals and schools are justly celebrated. I went by the night boat, arriving about 6 a.m., and had engaged a guide to take a young French lady and myself to see all the main sights. Canton is a most fascinating city, and as one was carried in a chair through its narrow granite-paved streets (their average width is twelve feet, and they are eighty miles in extent), one is dazzled by the wealth of beautiful and curious things displayed on every side.