CHAP. XVI.

[1]Davis's "Chinese."

CHINESE AGRICULTURE—EXAGGERATED STATEMENTS REGARDING ITS ADVANCEMENT.—SOIL OF THE HILLS.—TEA LAND.—SOIL OF THE PLAINS.—SUMMER CROPS.—RICE AND ITS CULTIVATION.—CHINESE PLOUGH AND HARROW.—NUMBER OF CROPS PRODUCED.—METHOD OF OBTAINING TWO CROPS OF RICE IN SUMMER IN THE PROVINCE OF CHEKIANG.—RICE HARVEST.—TERRACE CULTIVATION DESCRIBED.—THE TEIN-CHING PLANT, FROM WHICH THE NORTHERN INDIGO IS OBTAINED.—SUMMER HILL CROPS.—CULTIVATION OF SWEET POTATOES.—EARTH NUTS.—WINTER CROPS.—CELEBRATED SHAN-TUNG CABBAGE.—OIL PLANT.—WHEAT, BARLEY, ETC.—RIPENING OF WINTER CROPS.—MANURES—TWO PLANTS CULTIVATED FOR THIS TURPOSE—THEIR CULTIVATION AND MODE OF APPLICATION.—A MANURE FOR MIXING WITH SEEDS.—ITS UTILITY.—OTHER MANURES IN COMMON USE.—MANURE TANKS.—NIGHT SOIL AND URINE—MODE OF APPLICATION.—SUCCESSION AND ROTATION OF CROPS.

The profession of agriculture in Chinahas been highly honoured and encouraged by the government of the country, from the earliest times down to the present day. The husbandman ranks higher here than he does in any other country in the world, and the emperor himself marks his sense of the importance of agriculture, by engaging in its operations at the commencement of every season. In his character of "Son of Heaven," or mediator between the gods and his subjects, he devotes three days to solemn fasting and prayer, after which heproceeds to a field, and with his own hands holds the plough, and throws a portion of the rice seed into the ground, thus showing the importance which government attaches to industry in the cultivation of the earth, that there may be plenty on the land to supply the wants of the teeming population.

The progress and advancement of the Chinese in agriculture as an art has been, however, greatly exaggerated by many who have adverted to this subject in their writings. The Chinese government has been always so jealous of foreigners entering the country, that those who were probably able to form a correct opinion on the subject were prevented from doing so, and were led away by the fertility of their imaginations; while, on the other hand, the Roman Catholic missionaries who travelled and resided in the interior, were evidently ignorant of the art itself, as well as of the progress it had made in other countries. But it must also be borne in mind, that whilst agriculture has been advancing rapidly towards perfection amongst the nations of the western world, the Chinese in this, as with most other things, have remained stationary, and hence there must be a much greater disparity between us and them now than there was when the early writers upon China published their works. To these writers, and more particularly to those who kept on faithfully copying their works, we must attribute the erroneous opinions which have been generally held by us in every thing relating to the agriculture of the Chinese. I have nodoubt that, as a nation, they surpass the natives of India and other half-civilised states in this art, as they do in most other peaceful accomplishments; but it is ridiculous, now at least, to compare them for a moment with our intelligent farmers in England or Scotland. As well might we compare their coasting junks with the navy of England, or their merchants with ours, whose ships are met with on every sea, and whose commercial operations extend to every quarter of the world. In order, however, that the reader may form an opinion for himself, I will describe in detail what passed under my own eye connected with this subject, during my travels of nearly three years in the country. In that space of time I had an opportunity of seeing repeatedly the various methods of cultivation and their results, both in the north and in the south; all of which were carefully noted in my journal at the time.

I will begin with the southern provinces. These are, of course, tropical, and differ from those in the north in many respects, both with regard to soil and the nature of the plants cultivated.

The soil of the mountainsin the south of China is of the poorest description. Rocks of granite are seen every where protruding themselves above the scanty vegetation, whilst the soil itself is composed of dry burnt clay mixed with particles of granite in a decaying or disintegrated state. This soil naturally so poor, is kept so by the practice of periodically cutting and carrying off the long grassand stunted bushes for fire-wood. Sometimes the natives set fire to this upon the mountains, for the purpose of affording a scanty manure, but nevertheless the soil is miserably sterile. Almost all the hilly portions of the south of China are in a state of nature "stern and wild" where the hand of man never attempts agricultural operations, and where it is almost impossible he ever can. Here and there, near the base of the hills, the far-famed terrace cultivation may be seen, where the natives grow small patches of rice and other vegetables, such as sweet potatoes and earth-nuts, but the portion of land in this part of the country used for such purposes, bears but an extremely small proportion to the vast tracts in a wild state.

At Amoy and over all that part of the province of Fokien the mountains are even more barren than those of Quantung. On some of the hills on the island of Amoy, the traveller may wander for miles and scarcely see even a weed. On every side there is nothing but masses of dark crumbling granite, and red burnt-looking clay. This, however, seems the northern boundary of the most barren part of China. When we reach the river Min near Foo-chow-foo, there is a great change visible in the vegetation of the hills, caused, of course, by the richer nature of the soil. This remark applies to the northern portion of Fokien and to the whole of the province of Chekiang. I have ascended hills near the mouth of the Min at least 3000 feet above the level of the sea, which were under cultivationto their summit. The soil here was composed of a gravelly loam; and though far from rich, it contained more vegetable matter or humus, and was also much deeper. This addition of vegetable matter rendered the soil sufficiently fertile to repay the Chinese fanner for the labour expended in bringing the crops to maturity. Some of the hills are of course much more productive than others. The tea districts, for example, both in the province of Fokien and Chekiang, are not only more fertile, but are very different from what they are generally supposed to be. One of the most accredited accounts of China gives the following analysis of the soil of these districts:—"The tea soil of China consists almost entirely of siliceous sand in a minute state of division—84 per cent. of sand, a quantity of carbonate of iron and alumina,and only1per cent. of vegetable matter." Where or how this analysis could be obtained, I have no means of knowing—most probably from the black tea districts near Canton; but it is certainly very far from being a correct one if meant to apply to the rich soil of the great tea districts.

But even here, and over all the most fertile mountain districts of Central China, it would be ridiculous to assert, as some have done, that the whole or even the greater part is under cultivation. On the contrary by far the greater part lies in a state of nature and has never been disturbed by the hand of man. I am anxious to state this fact in express terms, in order to set those right who havebeen led to believe that every inch of land in the empire, however bleak and barren, is under cultivation, having given way to Chinese industry and skill! I myself, before I visited China, was under the same impression; but the first glance at the rushed mountainous shores soon convinced me of my error. Unfortunately, our opinions of a distant unknown country are apt to go to extremes, either fancying it entirely barren, or else a paradise of fertility.

Thesoil of the valleysor plains varies quite as much in different provinces as it does in the hills. The level of these valleys or plains is generally very low; in many instances below that of the rivers and canals. In the south the soil consists of a strong stiff clay mixed with a small portion of sand, but containing scarcely any vegetable matter or humus. This is its composition about Canton and Macao, and in fact over all the provinces of the south, unless perhaps in the vicinity of large towns, where its natural character has been altered to a certain extent by the influence of manure. Where the hills lose their barren character, four or five hundred miles to the northward from Hong-kong, a visible change takes place also in the soil of the valleys and plains. In the district of the Min, for example, instead of being almost entirely composed of strong stiff clay it is mixed with a considerable portion of vegetable matter, and is an excellent strong loam, not unlike that which we find in some of our best wheat lands in England andScotland, and capable of producing excellent crops. As a general rule it may be observed, that the lower the valleys are, the more the soil approaches in its nature to the stiff clay of the south, andvice versâ. For instance, the Shanghae district is several feet higher above the level of the rivers and canals than that of Ning-po, and the soil of the latter consists more of a stiff clay and has less vegetable matter in its composition, and is far from being so fertile as the cotton district of Shanghae.

Rice being the chief article of food is, of course, the staple production of the country, more particularly in the south, where two crops of it can easily be raised in the hot months, besides another crop of some more hardy vegetables in winter.

The ground is prepared in spring for the first crop of rice, as soon as the winter green crops are removed from the fields. The plough, which is commonly drawn by a buffalo or bullock, is a rude implement; but probably answers the purpose much better than ours would, which has been found to be too heavy and unmanageable for the Chinese.[1]As the land is always flooded with water before it is ploughed, this operation may be described as the turning up a layer of mud and water, six or eight inches deep, which lies on a solid floor of hard stiff clay. The plough never goes deeper than this mud and water, and consequently the ploughman and his bullock in wading through the field find a solid footing at this depth below the surface. The waterbuffalo generally employed in the south, is well adapted for this work, as he delights to wallow amongst the mud, and is often found swimming and amusing himself in the canals on the sides of the rice fields. But it seems a most disagreeable and unhealthy operation for the poor labourer, who nevertheless goes along cheerful and happy. After the plough comes the harrow; this is chiefly used to break and pulverise the surface of the soil or to bury the manure. Hence it has not long perpendicular teeth like ours; but the labourer stands upon the top of it, and presses it down upon the muddy soil while it is drawn along. The object of both plough and harrow is not only to loosen the earth, but to mix up the whole until it forms a puddle and its surface becomes smooth and soft. In this condition it is ready to receive the young rice plants.

Previously to the preparation of the fields the rice seed is sown thickly in small patches of highly manured ground, and the young plants in these seed-beds are ready for transplanting when the fields are in a fit state to receive them. Sometimes the Chinese steep the seeds in liquid manure before they sow them; but although this practice is common in the south, it is not general throughout the empire.

The seedling plants are carefully dug up from the bed and removed to the fields. These fields are now smooth and overflowed with water to the depth of three inches. The plants are put in in patches, each containing about a dozen plants, andin rows from ten to twelve inches apart each way. The operation of planting is performed with astonishing rapidity. A labourer takes a quantity of plants under his left arm, and drops them in bundles over the land about to be planted, as he knows, almost to a plant, what number will be required. These little bundles are then taken up, and the proper number of plants selected and plunged by the hand into the muddy soil. The water, when the hand is drawn up, immediately rushes into the hole, and carries with it a portion of soil to cover the roots, and the seedlings are thus planted and covered in without further trouble.

In the south the first crop is fit to cut by the end of June or the beginning of July. Before it is quite ripe, another crop of seedlings is raised on the beds or corners of the fields, and is ready for transplanting as soon as the ground has been ploughed up and prepared for their reception. This second crop is ready for cutting in November.

In the latitude of Ning-po, 30° north, the summers are too short to have the land cropped in the same way in which it is done in the south. The farmers here manage to have two crops of paddy in the summer by planting the second crop two or three weeks after the first, in alternate rows. The first planting takes place about the middle of May, and the crop is reaped in the beginning of August, at which time the alternate rows are only about a foot in height, and are still quite green. After the early crop is removed, the ground is stirred upand manured, and the second crop having now plenty of light and air, advances rapidly to maturity, and is ready for the reaping-hook about the middle of November.

About one hundred miles further north, in the Shanghae district, the summers are too short to enable the husbandman to obtain a second crop of rice, even upon the Ning-po plain, and he is therefore obliged to content himself with one. This is sown at the end of May, and reaped at the beginning of October.

A large quantity of rain always falls at the change of the north-east monsoon in May. This is of the utmost importance to the farmer, not only as regards his rice crops, but also as to many other operations at this season of the year. We are accustomed to hear a great deal of the machine-like regularity which pervades all the operations of the Chinese; but a little investigation of the circumstances in which they are placed—at least in so far as agriculture is concerned—will convince us that their practice is regulated, not so much by caprice and those "Mede and Persian" laws, as by the laws of nature herself, upon which the success of the varied operations of agriculture mainly depend. Thus the crops of rice and cotton are sown on the low lands, and the sweet potatoes are planted on the hills, year after year, exactly at the same time. But this regularity is not the effect of prejudice, nor in obedience to the imperial orders; it is simply the result of experience which has taught the farmer that this is the proper time for theseoperations, because there will then be a continuance of frequent and copious showers, which will moisten the earth and the air until such time as the young rootlets have laid hold of the soil and are capable of sending up sufficient nourishment to the stems.

Water-wheel for Irrigation.

During the growth of the rice, the fields are always kept flooded when water can be obtained. The terraces near the base of the hills are supplied by the mountain streams, and the fields which are above the level of any adjoining river or canal are flooded by the celebrated water-wheel, which is in use all over the country. These machines are of three kinds. The principle in all of them is the same, the only difference being in the mode of applying the moving power; one is worked by the hand, another by the feet, and the third by ananimal of some kind, generally a buffalo or bullock. The rice lands are kept flooded in this way until the crops are nearly ripe, when the water is no longer necessary. It is also necessary, or at least advantageous, to go over the ground once or twice during the summer, and stir the soil up well amongst the roots, at the same time removing any weeds which may have sprung up. If the weather is wet, the fields retain the water for a considerable time, and then it is not an uncommon sight to see the natives wading nearly up to the knees in mud and water, when they are gathering in the harvest.

When ripe, the crops are cut with a small instrument, not very unlike our own reaping-hook, and are generally thrashed out at once in the fields where they have grown. Sometimes, however, and more particularly in the north, the paddy is tied up in sheaves, and carried home before it is thrashed; indeed every thing in the northern agriculture of the Chinese has a great resemblance to what is practised in Europe.

Theterrace cultivationof China has been noticed by nearly all writers upon this country, and, like most other subjects, it has been either much exaggerated or undervalued. It appeared to me to be carried to the greatest perfection on the hill sides adjacent to the river Min near Foo-chow-foo; at least I was more struck with it there than any where else. On sailing up that beautiful river, these terraces look like steps on the sides of the mountains, one rising above another, until they sometimes reach six or eight hundred feet abovethe level of the sea. When the rice and other crops are young, these terraces are clothed in luxuriant green, and look like a collection of gardens among the rugged and barren mountains. The terrace system is adopted by the Chinese, either for the purpose of supplying the hill sides with water where paddy is to be grown, or to prevent the heavy rains from washing down the loose soil from the roots of other vegetables. Hence these cuttings are seen all over the sides of the hills, not exactly level like the rice terraces, but level enough to answer the purpose of checking the rains in their descent down the mountain. For the same reason, the sweet potato and some other crops which are grown on the hills are always planted in ridges which run cross-ways or horizontally; indeed, were the ridges made in a different direction, the heavy rains which fall in the early summer months would carry both the loose soil and crops down into the plains.

Rice is grown on the lower terrace ground, and a stream of water is always led from some ravine and made to flow across the sides of the hills, until it reaches the highest terrace, into which it flows and floods the whole of the level space. When the water rises three or four inches in height, which is sufficiently high for the rice, it finds vent at an opening made for the purpose in the bank, through which it flows into the terrace below, which it floods in the same manner, and so on to the lowest. In this way the whole of the rice terraces are kept continually flooded, until the stalks of the cropsassume a yellow ripening hue when the water being no longer required, it is turned back into its natural channel, or led to a different part of the hill, for the nourishment of other crops. These mountain streams, which abound in all parts of the hilly districts, are of the greatest importance to the farmer; and as they generally spring from a high elevation in the ravines, they can be conducted at pleasure over all the lower parts of the hills. No operation in agriculture gives him and his labourers more pleasure than leading these streams of water from one place to another and making them subservient to their purposes. In my travels in the country the inhabitants often called my attention to this branch of their operations, and I pleased them much when I expressed my admiration at the skill with which they executed it. The practice is not confined to the paddy fields; for I remember once, when superintending the planting of some large trees and shrubs in the garden of Messrs. Dent & Co. in Hong-kong, after I had given them a large supply of water at the time they were put into the ground, I desired the gardener to repeat the dose next morning. But, on the following day, when I returned to the spot I was surprised to find a little stream divided into many branches, and meandering amongst the roots of the newly planted trees. As there was no stream there before, I went up to examine its source, and found that it had been led from a neighbouring ravine; a work more easy than carrying a large supply of water in buckets, and at the same time more effectual.

Several other summer crops are cultivated in the lowlands. In the southern provinces, for instance, we find large quantities of theNelumbium speciosumgrown for its roots, which are much esteemed; theTrapa bicornis, the castoroil plant,Scirpus tuberosus, Convolvulus reptans, and several other vegetables, for which there is a great demand in all Chinese towns. The sugar cane also is extensively grown both in the provinces of Quantung and Fokien, and probably in other parts of the empire.

In the district of Kiangsoo my attention was directed to a plant calledTein-ching, which is largely cultivated by the inhabitants for the sake of its blue dye. In the southern provinces a great deal of indigo (Indigofera) is grown and manufactured, in addition to a large quantity which is annually imported from Manilla and the Straits. In the north, however, the plant which we call indigo is never met with, owing, I suppose, to the coldness of the winters; but its place is supplied by theTein-ching(Isatis indigotica), the leaves of which are prepared in the same manner as the common indigo. The colour of the liquid at first is a kind of greenish blue, but, after being well stirred up and exposed to the air, it becomes much darker. I suppose it is thickened afterwards by evaporation; but this part of the process did not come under my observation. I am very much inclined to believe that this is the dye used to colour the green teas which are manufactured in the north of China for the English and American markets: this, however, is only conjecture.

The summer productionsof the hilly country are, of course, different from those of the plains. From the province of Fokien northward to the great valley of the Yang-tse-Kiang, the hills are amongst the most fertile in China. They are frequently terraced in the manner I have described, and their staple productions, if we except the rice which is grown on the lower terraces, are sweet potatoes and earth-nuts. In the southern provinces, when the winters are mild, the roots of the sweet potato frequently remain in the ground all the winter. In the north the cold is too severe, and consequently the natives are obliged to dig up and protect the roots. In April those roots which have been saved for "seed" are planted thickly in beds near the houses or in the corners of the fields. They begin to push out their young shoots immediately, and these are ready to be taken off by the beginning of May. In the mean time the ground on the hill sides has been prepared, and horizontal ridges or drills formed about two feet apart. About the 10th or 12th of May these cuttings are taken off and planted, and seem to grow as readily as couch grass. It is astonishing how well they succeed, considering the little care expended upon them; but we must keep in mind that this is the commencement of the rainy season at the change of the monsoon, that the sky is generally cloudy, that scarcely a day passes without frequent showers, and that consequently the air is saturated with moisture. The earth-nuts are grown most extensively in thesouthern provinces, more particularly in Fokien; while the sweet potatoes are better a little farther north, where they form the chief hill crop.

Thewinter cropsin the neighbourhood of Macao and Canton consist of large quantities of our European vegetables, such as potatoes, peas, onions, and cabbages, which are grown for the supply of the Europeans who reside at Hong-kong or Canton: our potatoes are generally planted here in October, which is considered the best time to insure a good crop; but as they always sell well in the markets, the growers manage to keep up a succession during the greater part of the year. Several varieties of the cabbage tribe, which seem indigenous to China, are grown extensively in the fields at this season both in the south and north. These never produce a solid heart like our cabbages, and are of no value when imported to England; but the celebrated "Pak-tsae" or white cabbage of Shantung and Peking, is a very different plant; it is never grown in the south of China, but is produced in the summer months in the north. Large quantities of this delicious vegetable are brought south every autumn, in the junks which sail at the commencement of the north-east monsoon in October.

In the northern provinces the principal winter productions are wheat, barley, peas, beans, the cabbage oil plant, and various other vegetables of lesser note. These crops are grown on the hills as well as on the low lands, and on the ground which produces sweet potatoes in summer. In theNanking district they fire generally sown or planted in October upon those lands which produce rice or cotton during the summer months. Frequently the sowing takes place before the cotton or the dry summer crops have been removed from the ground, and the young plants are seen coming up amongst these crops, and ready to take their place when they are removed. This is done in order to give a longer season for the ripening of the different crops, and is very generally practised in the northern districts. The wheat and barley ripen in Fokien in April, and in the neighbourhood of Shanghae about the middle of May. About Chinchew and Amoy the wheat crops are so poor that the labourers pull them up by the hand, in the same manner as we do in our moorlands in England and Scotland. They are of course much better in the rich district of Shanghae, but the varieties of both wheat and barley are far inferior to ours; and as the Chinese sow them too thickly, they are generally much drawn, and the heads and corn small. The beans and peas seem to be exactly the same as our field kinds, and are certainly indigenous to the northern parts of China. Very large quantities of the cabbage tribe are cultivated for the sake of the oil which is extracted from their seeds. They are planted out in the fields in autumn, and their seeds are ripe in April and May, in time to be removed from the land before the rice crops. It must not be supposed, however, that the whole of the land is regularly cropt in this manner, and that, as somewriters inform us, it never for a moment lies idle, for such is not the case.

In the island of Chusan, and over all the rice country of Chekiang and Keangsoo, there are two plants cultivated in the winter months, almost exclusively for manure: the one is a species ofCoronilla; the other isTrefoil, or clover. Large ridges, not unlike those on which gardeners grow celery, are thrown up on the wet rice fields in the autumn, and the seeds of the plants are dropt in, in patches at five inches apart, on the surface of the ridges. In a few days germination commences, and long before the winter is past the tops of the ridges are covered with luxuriant herbage. This goes on growing until April, when it is necessary to prepare the ground for the rice. The ridges are then levelled, and the manure plants are scattered in a fresh state over the surface of the ground. The fields are flooded, and the plough and harrow are employed to turn up and pulverise the soil. The manure, thus scattered over the ground and half-buried amongst mud and water, begins to decay immediately, and gives out a most disagreeable putrid smell. This mode of manuring is generally adopted in all the rice lands in this part of China, and the young paddy doubtless derives strong nourishment from the ammonia given out in the decomposition of this fresh manure.

Fire-wood is so scarce in the country that a great portion of the straw, cotton stalks, and grass, which would go to manure the fields, is used for firing, and, therefore, the plan of growing manure for theland is forced upon the farmers by necessity. The plan of using manure in a fresh state, instead of allowing it first to decay, has doubtless been found from long experience to be the best for the young paddy. The Chinese farmer is not a chemist; he knows little or nothing of vegetable physiology, but his forefathers have hit accidentally upon certain systems which are found in practice to succeed, and to these he himself adheres, and hands them down unchanged to his children.

When the first crop of rice is cut, the second, which has been planted in the alternate rows, is left to grow and ripen in the autumn; the ground is stirred up, and the stubble and part of the straw of the first crop is immediately worked up with the mud and water between the rows: this decays in the same manner as the trefoil in spring, and affords manure to the second crop. Prawns and fish of various kinds are frequently used for the same purpose and in the same way.

Burnt earth mixed with decomposed vegetable matter is another highly esteemed manure, and is common in all the agricultural districts. During the summer months all sorts of vegetable rubbish are collected in heaps by the road-sides, and mixed with straw, grass, parings of turf, &c., which are set on fire and burn slowly for several days, until all the rank vegetable matter is decomposed, and the whole reduced to a rich black earth. It is then turned over several times, when it presents the same appearance as the vegetable mould used in gardensin England. This manure is not scattered over the land, but reserved for covering the seeds, and is applied in the following manner. When the seed time arrives, one man makes the holes, another follows and drops in the seeds, and a third puts a handful of this black earth on the top of them. Being principally vegetable matter, it keeps the seeds loose and moist during the period of germination, and afterwards affords them nourishment. This manure is useful mechanically as well as chemically in a stiff soil, like that of the low lands of China, where the seeds are apt to be injured in the process of germination. The young crop thus planted acquires a vigour in its first growth, which enables it to assimilate the matter which forms the strong stiff soil, and to strike its roots firmly into it.

What is commonly known by the name of oil-cake, is broken up and used in the same manner as the vegetable earth, and is also scattered broadcast over the land. The oil-cake is the remains or refuse of the seeds of several different plants, such as the tallow tree, various kinds of beans, and the cabbage formerly mentioned. There is a great demand for this manure in all parts of the country, and it forms a very considerable branch of trade both by sea and land. Bones, shells, old lime, soot, ashes, and all kinds of rubbish, are also eagerly bought up by the farmer for the purpose of manure.

In the Fa-tee gardens near Canton the proprietors have a curious kind of rich mud, which theycut up into small square bits, and sell at a very high price for the growing of plants in pots. This is obtained chiefly from the ponds and lakes in the vicinity, where theNelumbium speciosumgrows. This soil is so much esteemed, that the price for the best kind is 1 dollar for 3 peculs[2], and for the second 1 dollar for 4 peculs. The inferior sort has been frequently sent to England in plant cases from Canton.

For crops in a vigorous growing state no kind of manure is so eagerly sought after as night soil, and every traveller in China has remarked the large cisterns or earthen tubs which are placed in the most conspicuous and convenient situation for the reception of this kind of manure. What would be considered an intolerable nuisance in every civilised town in Europe, is here looked upon by all classes, rich and poor, with the utmost complacency; and I am convinced that nothing would astonish a Chinaman more, than hearing any one complain of the stench which is continually rising from these manure tanks. Almost every Chinese town is placed on the banks of a river or canal, and the water is generally led not only round the walls, thus forming a kind of moat, but also through many parts of the city. Long clumsy boats are placed in different departments of the town, into which the night soil and urine are emptied and conveyed from thence into the country. The fields in the neighbourhood of cities are generally supplied with it by coolies, who go everymorning to market loaded with the produce of their firms. Each brings home two buckets of this manure, slung at the ends of his bamboo pole. In England it is generally supposed that the Chinese carry the night soil and urine to these tanks, and leave it there to undergo fermentation, before they apply it to the land. This, however, is not the case; at least, not generally. In the fertile agricultural districts in the north, I have observed that the greater part of this stimulant is used in a fresh state, being of course sufficiently diluted with water before it is applied to the crops. And there can be little doubt that in this the Chinese are perfectly right, as the manure must be much more efficient in this state than when a great portion of its ammonia has passed off into the air. The Chinese, as far as I could learn, have no mode of disinfecting their manure, but they seem to be perfectly aware, that if allowed free access to the air a great loss must result, owing to the gases which are given out and dissipated. Without waiting, then, for fermentation or putrefaction, this manure is at once applied to the growing crops. On the afternoons, or on cloudy days, the labourers are seen carrying water from the nearest pond or canal to the manure tank, for the purpose of diluting its contents. This being done, they fill their buckets, attaching one to each end of their bamboo in the usual way, and carry them off to their destination. When this is reached, each man takes a small wooden ladle having a long bamboohandle, and with this he scatters the liquid over the growing crop. A strong stimulant like this would probably in other circumstances have an injurious effect; but, by using it only when the crops are young and luxuriant, they assimilate its gases, and a most marked effect is produced upon their growth and productiveness. This kind of liquid manure is generally applied to wheat, barley, and all the cabbage tribe, and other garden vegetables; but not to rice, which is always flooded during its growth.

This manure is sometimes used after putrefaction and fermentation have taken place, and even in this state it is very efficient. In the gardens near Canton it is often dried and mixed with the soil taken from the bottom of the Lotus ponds, and used for growing plants in pots, or for enriching any particular tree which may be a favourite in the garden.

Although the land is sometimes allowed to lie idle for some months, yet there is no regular system of fallowing, nor is the rotation of crops much known or practised. Indeed, as regards the low lands, the soil being a kind of stiff, strong clay, capable of yielding many crops of rice in succession, without being in any way burthened or impoverished, no such mode of cultivation is necessary.

[1]Several of our ploughs have been sent out to China, and offered to the native farmersgratis, but they will not use them.[2]A Chinese pecul is equal to 133¼ lbs.

[1]Several of our ploughs have been sent out to China, and offered to the native farmersgratis, but they will not use them.

[2]A Chinese pecul is equal to 133¼ lbs.

RETURN TO CHUSAN.—ITS SUPPOSED UNHEALTHINESS.—MORTALITY AMONGST THE QUEEN'S TROOPS WHEN FIRST STATIONED THERE.—SUBSEQUENT SALUBRITY.—ITS ADVANTAGES OVER HONG-KONG AS A BRITISH SETTLEMENT.—NEW PLANTS FOUND ON THE ISLAND.—NINGPO.—GARDENS OF THE MANDARINS.—MANNERS OF CHINESE LADIES.—SAIL FOR HONG-KONG.—TOMBS OF THE CHINESE.—SITUATIONS SUPPOSED TO BE THE BEST.—SOOTHSAYERS EMPLOYED.—THEIR METHODS OF WORKING ON THE MINDS OF THE PEOPLE.—MR. LAY CONSULTED AS TO THE BEST SITE FOR A GRAVE.—INSCRIPTIONS ON THE TOMBS.—PERIODICAL VISITS TO THEM BY RELATIVES.—DIFFERENT MODES OF INTERMENT.—COFFINS EXPOSED IN THE FIELDS.—KEPT IN HOUSES.—TOMB NEAR SUNG-KIANG-FOO.—FAVOURITE FLOWERS FOR PLANTING ON THE GRAVES.

My first visit to Chusan in 1843 was during the autumn and winter, but in 1844 I had an opportunity of exploring this beautiful island, at intervals, from the commencement of spring, until the close of the season. At this time the first impression regarding the unhealthiness of the climate had been entirely removed, and the island was looked upon as the most healthy in the Chinese seas.

It will be recollected that when the island was first occupied by our troops, the mortality was so great that the place was pronounced by every one to be the most unhealthy in China. Many a brave soldier fell a victim to the malignant fever whichprevailed at the time. No regiment suffered more than Her Majesty's 26th, the "Cameronians," who were encamped on a green hill which overlooked the city, and which certainly appeared to be the most healthy spot which could have been selected for the purpose. That place still bears the name of the "Cameronian Hill," and is now thickly strewed with the graves of our countrymen.

It soon became evident, that this great mortality proceeded from other causes than the paddy fields which surrounded the city of Tinghae. Invalids from Hong-kong and Amoy were sent here to recover their health; and the difference in the appearance of the troops stationed in Chusan, from those in Hong-kong, was most marked. Dr. Maxwell of the Madras army, who was a most excellent judge in such matters, has often expressed his opinion, that, with good medical skill and ordinary care, this beautiful island might have been rendered one of the most healthy stations for our troops in the East. Indeed, every one now seemed to regret that we had not secured Chusan as a part of the British dominions for the protection of our trade in China, instead of the barren and unhealthy island of Hong-kong; and some even went so far as to recommend that means should still be taken by our government to accomplish this desirable end. The time, however, for doing this had gone by, and I believe that every right-thinking person would have seen with regret any power exercised by a great and exalted nation like England to infringea solemn treaty "which had been entered into with a nation so utterly powerless as the Chinese; and most assuredly nothing less than this—no negotiations or promises—would have induced the Chinese to give up an island like Chusan, which commands the central and most important parts of their empire. That we committed a blunder and made a bad bargain is quite certain, but having done so, we must abide by the consequences. Had we retained Chusan, it would not only have been a healthy place for our troops and merchants, but it would also have proved a safeguard to our trade in the north, which must ultimately become of greater importance than that at Canton. Moreover, we should have been in a central position as regards a large and important part of the world, which must sooner or later open its ports to our commerce. I allude of course to Japan and Corea, both of which are only a few days' sail from Chusan, and are still in a great measure sealed countries to Europeans. These regrets, however, are vain.

Chusan in spring is one of the most beautiful islands in the world. It reminds the Englishman of his own native land. In the mornings the grass sparkles with dew, the air is cool and refreshing, the birds are singing in every bush, and flowers are hanging in graceful festoons from the trees and hedges.

The new plants of the island, some of which I had discovered in the preceding autumn, I now sawin flower for the first time. Early in spring the hill sides were covered with a beautiful Daphne with lilac flowers (Daphne FortuniLindl.);Azalea ovataLindl., certainly one of the finest and most distinct plants of this kind which I have introduced, also grows wild on the hills, and was in full bloom at this period. A fine new Buddlea (B. Bindleyana) had a most graceful appearance, as its long spikes of purple flowers hung in profusion from the hedges on the hill sides, often side by side with the well-knownGlycine sinensis. Another plant, certainly one of the most beautiful shrubs of northern China, theWeigela rosea, was first discovered in the garden of a Chinese mandarin near the city of Tinghae on this island. This spring, it was loaded with its noble rose-coloured flowers, and was the admiration of all who saw it, both English and Chinese. I have great pleasure in saying that all these plants and many others, natives of Chusan, are now growing in our gardens in England.

Ningpo is about 40 miles west from Chusan, and is situated on the mainland. My visits to it at different times during this summer were attended with much less difficulty than in the preceding autumn. I was now beginning to speak a little Chinese, and was perfectly acquainted with the town, and the whole of the places where the different mandarins' gardens and nurseries were situated. The mandarins were particularly inquisitive at this time about every thing which related to the movements of the English, or other foreigners, who were likely toestablish themselves at their port; and I soon perceived that, as we were able to keep up a conversation together in Chinese, my visits were very agreeable to them. The nurserymen, too, having found out that my money was as valuable to them as that which they received from their own countrymen, threw aside their shyness, and were all anxiety to sell me any plants I wanted.

The gardens of the mandarins were extremely gay, particularly during the early months of the year; and, what was of more importance to me, contained a number of new plants of great beauty and interest. On entering one of the gardens on a fine morning in May, I was struck with a mass of yellow flowers which completely covered a distant part of the wall. The colour was not a common yellow, but had something of buff in it, which gave the flowers a striking and uncommon appearance. I immediately ran up to the place, and, to my surprise and delight, found that it was a most beautifulnew double yellow climbing rose. I have no doubt, from what I afterwards learned, that this rose is from the more northern districts of the empire, and will prove perfectly hardy in Europe. Another rose, which the Chinese call the "five coloured," was also found in one of these gardens at this time. It belongs to the section commonly called China roses in this country, but grows in a very strange and beautiful manner. Sometimes it produces self-coloured blooms—being either red or French white, and frequently having flowers of both on one plant atthe same time—while at other times the flowers are striped with the two colours. This will also be as hardy as our common China rose.Glycine sinensis is often grown on a flat trellis in front of the summer-house, or forms a kind of portico, which affords a pleasing shade. Entwined with one of these trees, I found another variety, having very long racemes of pure white flowers, which contrasted well with the light blue of the other. I obtained permission from the old Chinese gentleman to whom it belonged (my old friend Dr. Chang) to make some layers of this fine plant, and I am happy to say that one of these is now alive in the garden at Chiswick.

The Horticultural Society having sent me out some small optical instruments to be given as presents, I presented some of them to the Doctor, with which he was much pleased, and offered in return to let me have whatever cuttings or plants from his garden I might wish to possess.

We are generally led to believe that ladies of rank in this country are never seen by visitors. It is quite true that Chinese custom, in this respect, differs entirely from ours; and that the females here, like those of most half civilised or barbarous nations, are kept in the back ground, and are not considered as on an equality with their husbands. For example, they do not sit at the same table; when a "sing-song" or theatrical performance is got up, they are put in a place out of view, where they can see all that is going on and yet remain unseen.But for all this they are not entirely secluded from society; at least they used frequently to honour me with their presence, and crowd round me with the greatest curiosity. At first they used to be extremely shy, and only took sly peeps at me from behind doors and through windows; by and by, however, their strong curiosity conquered their bashfulness, and then they used to stand and look on very composedly. They generally, however, kept at a little distance, and whenever a movement was made towards where they stood, they pretended to be vastly frightened, and ran away; but they soon came back again.

To Mr. Mackenzie, one of our merchants at Ningpo, and also to Mr. Thom, Her Majesty's consul, I was greatly indebted for their kindness and hospitality. They did every thing in their power to forward my views, and to both these gentlemen I take this opportunity of rendering my best thanks.

After having spent the summer in the districts of Ningpo, Chusan, and Shanghae, I returned to the last-mentioned place, where my plants were all collected, intending immediately to sail for Hong-kong, and send a portion of them home to England; but the exposure to the sun during the summer was now beginning to affect my health, and when I landed at Shanghae I was laid up with a severe attack of fever. Providentially this happened when I was amongst my English friends, and, as I had the means of procuring excellent medical advice, Irecovered in the course of a fortnight, and was able to proceed to sea, where the change of air completed my cure. I reached Hong-kong in November, and forthwith made preparations for sending my collections home in several vessels, which were at anchor in the bay at this time.

During the summer which had now passed by, I had had frequent opportunities of inspecting the tombs of the Chinese both in the northern and southern districts. In the south, the natives form no regular cemeteries or churchyards, as we do in Europe, but the tombs of the dead are scattered all over the sides of the hills, the most pleasant situations being generally selected. The more wealthy individuals often convey their dead a considerable distance, and employ a kind of fortune-teller, whose duty it is to find out the most appropriate resting-place. This man goes with the corpse to the place appointed, and of course pretends to be very wise in the selection of the spot, as well as in the choice of the soil with which the ashes of the dead are to mingle in after years; and upon trial, should the particular earth appear unsuitable, he immediately orders the procession off to some other place in the neighbourhood, where he expects to be more successful. I believe many of the Chinese have this important point settled before they die; for one day when one of our principal merchants went to call on old Howqua, the late Hong merchant at Canton, a tray was brought into the room with several kindsof earth upon it, which the old man examined with great care, and then fixed on the one in which he wished to be buried.

A situation on the hill side is also considered of great importance, especially if it commands a view of a beautiful bay or lake. But I believe that of all places the one most coveted is where a winding stream, in its course, passes and then returns again to the foot of the hill where the grave is to be made. The director of the ceremonies, with a compass in his hand, settles the direction in which the body is to lie, which is another point of great importance. An intelligent Chinese, with whom I was acquainted, informed me that this fortune-teller of the dead is often very eloquent in his descriptions of the future happiness of those who obey his directions; he informs them that they or their children, or some one in whom they are much interested, shall enjoy riches and honours in after life, as a reward for the attention and respect they have paid to the remains of their fathers; that as the stream which they then behold when standing around their father's grave flows and returns again in its windings, so shall their path through life be smooth and pleasant until they sink into the tomb hoary with years, respected, beloved, and mourned by their children.

These men are generally great rogues, and play upon the prejudices of the people. It frequently happens, that after a corpse has been interred forsome time, they call upon the relatives, and inform them, that for some cause which they affect to explain, it is absolutely necessary to remove and re-inter it. Should the relations object to this, the answer is, "Very well, I don't care, but your children and relations will also be regardless of your remains when you die, and you will be miserable in your graves." The feelings of the poor deluded people are thus wrought upon, and a further sum of money is extracted for finding a more suitable grave.

The late Mr. Lay, during one of his rambles amongst the hills on the banks of the river Min, was present at one of these ceremonies, and the relatives of the deceased crowded round him and consulted him as to the site of the grave, under the impression that he was well versed in such matters. He remarks in his journal, that "much good or much evil is thought to betide the survivors from a right or wrong position. Keangse practitioners in this 'te-le' and 'fung shwuy,' or soothsaying from the influence of the earth's local modalities, get large moneys by the trade; but as they do not agree amongst themselves, the people are fain to ask counsel of a stranger."

In my travels in the south of China I often came upon graves in the most retired places amongst the hills; they were all more or less of the same form, namely, a half circle cut out of the hill side, having the body interred behind it. Sometimes, indeedgenerally, there were several of these half-circles with a succession of terraces in front of the grave; and in the burying-places of the more wealthy, the semi-circles were built of brick or stone, and on a more extensive scale. In the centre of the semi-circle, and of course near the body, the grave stone is placed with its inscription. M. Callery, an excellent Chinese scholar, informed me that these inscriptions are always of the most simple kind, merely stating the name of the deceased, that he died in such a dynasty, in such a year. This is the plain and unflattering tale which the Chinese tombstone tells. In some instances—I cannot tell if in all—after the body has decayed, the bones are dug up, and carefully put into earthenware vessels, which are then placed on the hill side above ground. These, as well as the graves, are visited at stated times by the relatives. They go first to the grave of the patriarch, or father of the tribe, and then to those of the other members of the family in rotation, where they perform their devotions, and offer incense. They afterwards dine together when the ceremonies are over.

I was once or twice in the wild mountain districts in the interior, at the time when the natives visited the tombs. Even the most retired parts had their visitors, and it was both pleasing and affecting to see the little groups assembled round the graves, paying the tribute of affection to those whose memory they revered and loved. The widow wasseen kneeling by the grave of her lost husband; children, often very young, shedding tears of sorrow for a father or mother; and, sometimes, an old man whose hair was white with age, was there mourning the loss of those whom he had looked to as the support of his declining years. All were cutting the long grass and weeds which were growing round the tombs, and planting their favourite flowers to bloom and to decorate them.

Near Amoy, this scattered mode of interring the dead has been departed from, and perhaps necessarily, in consequence of the large population; in the country, however, I sometimes found tombs in retired and inaccessible parts of the hills here, as well as in the more southern provinces; but these were evidently the property of the wealthy inhabitants.

As the traveller proceeds northward, the circular form of the tombs is less common and they become more varied in their appearance. In Chusan, Ningpo, and various other places in that district, a great number of the coffins are placed on the surface of the ground and merely thatched over with straw. I met with these coffins in all sorts of places,—on the sides of the public highway—on the banks of the rivers and canals—and in woods and other retired parts of the country. Sometimes the thatch was completely off, the wood rotten, and the remains of the Chinamen of former days exposed to view. On one hill side on the island of Chusan, skulls and bones are lying about in alldirections, and more than once when wandering through the long brushwood in this place, I have been entangled by getting my feet through the lid of a coffin.

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