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CHAPTER
XVIII. Ascend the Lun-ke
river — A musical Buddhist high priest — Hoo-shan monastery — Its
silk-worms —
Mode of feeding them — General treatment — Their aversion to noise and
bright
light — The country embanked in all directions — A farmer's explanation
of this
— Town of Mei-che — Silk-worms begin to spin — Method of putting them
on straw
Artificial heat employed — Reeling process — Machine described —
Work-people —
Silk scenes in a monastery — Industrious Buddhist priests — Novel mode
of
catching fish — End of silk season — Price of raw silk where it is
produced.
I SPENT a week in the midst of
this beautiful
scenery, and experienced nothing but kindness and civility from the
hundreds of
natives with whom I came daily in contact. During this time I gained a
good
deal of information regarding the hilly districts to the westward,
which I intended
to penetrate before I left this part of the country. I found that a
river of
considerable size flowed up to the west gate of the city, and
apparently
emptied itself into the net-work of canals which cover this extensive
plain;
and I was informed that it was navigable for upwards of twenty miles to
boats
much larger than the one I was travelling in. My object now was to get
my boat
into that river, and as all these rivers and canals are connected this
was
accomplished without the least difficulty. We returned to the south
gate of
Hoo chow, where we found a wide
canal leading round the
walls to the west gate. Following this canal we soon skulled round, and
found
ourselves on a wide and deep river which takes its rise amongst the
hills in
the far west. It is called Lun-ke by the natives, and probably one of
its most
distant sources is near the celebrated Tein-muh-shan — a mountain said
to be
the highest in this part of China. In sailing up this river I
observed that the
plantations of mulberry still formed the staple crop of the country on
all the
flat lands which were raised above the surface of the rice-fields.
About sixty
le west of Hoo-chow-foo I observed a large monastery not
very far from the
banks of the river, and as it seemed situated in the midst of rich and
luxuriant vegetation, I determined to moor my boat to the banks of the
river,
and remain in the neighbourhood for a few days. As I was going up the
road in
the direction of the temple I met an old respectable-looking priest
carrying a
kind of flute or flageolet in his hand, which he induced now and then
to give
out not unmusical sounds. His head was shaven after the manner of the
priests
of Buddha; but the three nails on his left hand were each about two
inches in
length, denoting that he did not earn his bread by the sweat of his
brow, and
that in fact he was one of the superiors in the order to which he
belonged.
This old gentleman met me in the most dignified manner, and did not
express the
least surprise at seeing a foreigner so far from home. He asked me to
accompany
him home to his temple, and when we arrived there he introduced me to
his own
quarters and desired his servants to set tea and cakes before me. He
then led
me over all the halls and temples of the monastery, which, although
very
extensive, were in a most dilapidated condition. They were too much
like
buildings of this kind in other parts of the country to require any
further
notice. If there was little to notice in
these temples with
reference to Buddhism and its rites, there were objects of another kind
which
soon attracted my attention. The halls and outhouses of the monastery
seemed to
be converted for the time into a place for feeding silk-worms. Millions
of
these little animals were feeding in round sieves, placed one above
another in
open framework made for this purpose. So great was the number of the
worms that
every sieve — and there must have been many hundreds of them — was
crammed
quite full. In one large hall I observed the floor completely covered
with
worms. I shall never forget the peculiar sound which fell upon my ear
as I
opened the door of this hall. It was early in the morning, the worms
had been
just fed, and were at the time eagerly devouring the fresh leaves of
the
mulberry. Hundreds of thousands of little mouths were munching the
leaves, and
in the stillness around this sound was very striking and peculiar. The
place
too seemed so strange — a temple — a place of worship with many huge
idols,
some from twenty to thirty feet in height, looking down upon the scene
on the
floor. But to a Chinese there is nothing improper in converting a
temple into a
granary or a silk-worm establishment for a short time if it is
required, and I
suppose the gods of the place are supposed to look down with
approbation on
such scenes of peaceful industry. When from the large number of
worms it is necessary
to feed them on floors of rooms and halls, there is always a layer of
dry straw
laid down to keep them off the damp ground. This mode of treatment is
resorted
to from necessity, and not from choice. The sieves of the
establishment, used
in the framework I have already noticed, are greatly preferred. Whether the worms are fed on
sieves or on the floor
they are invariably cleaned every morning. All the remains of the
leafstalks of
the mulberry, the excrement of the animals, and other impurities, are
removed
before the fresh leaves are given. Much importance is attached to this
matter,
as it has a tendency to keep the worms in a clean and healthy
condition. The
Chinese are also very particular as regards the amount of light which
they
admit during the period the animals are feeding. I always observed the
rooms
were kept partially darkened, no bright light was allowed to penetrate.
In many
instances the owners were most unwilling to open the doors, for fear,
as they
said, of disturbing them; and they invariably cautioned me against
making any
unnecessary noise while I was examining them. At this time nearly all the
labour in this part of
the country was expended on the production of the silk-worm. In the
fields the
natives were seen in great numbers busily engaged in gathering the
leaves;
boats on the rivers were fraught with them; in the country market-towns
they
were exposed for sale in great quantities, and everything told that
they were
the staple article of production. On the other hand, every cottage,
farm-house,
barn and temple, was filled with its thousands of worms which were fed
and
tended with the greatest care. This part of the country is very
populous, villages
and small towns are scattered over it in every direction, and the
people have
the same dean and respectable appearance which I had already remarked
in other
parts of the silk districts. In making my observations on the rearing
of the
silk-worm I visited many hundreds of these towns and villages, and
never in one
instance had any complaint to make of incivility on the part of any one. After staying a few days in the
vicinity of the
temple of Hoo-shan — for such was its name — I gave my boatmen
directions to
move onwards further up the river. We passed a number of pretty towns
and
villages on its banks, and arrived at last at a place called Kin-hwa,
where I
remained for two days, and employed myself in making entomological
collections
and examining the productions of the district. We then went onwards to
a small
town mated Mei-che, which was as far as the river was navigable for
boats, and
from thirty to forty miles west from Hoo-chow-foo.
Here I moored my boat at a
little distance from the
town, and determined to remain in the neighbourhood long enough to
examine
everything of interest which might present itself. Although the country
was
comparatively level near the banks of the stream, yet I was now
surrounded on
all sides by hills, and the flat alluvial plain of the Yang-tse-Kiang
was quite
shut out from my view. In its general features it was rather curious
and
striking. Everywhere it was cut up into ponds and small lakes, and wide
embankments of earth seemed to cross it in all directions. At the first
view it
was difficult to account for this state of things, and I could not get
any
satisfactory reason for it, either from my servants or boatmen. I knew
well,
however, that the Chinese have a good and substantial reason for
everything
they do, and determined to apply to some farmer as the most likely
person to
enlighten me. One day when out on an excursion in the country I met an
intelligent-looking man, and to him I applied to solve the difficulty. "These embankments," said he,
"which
you now see cutting up the country in all directions, were formed many
hundred
years ago by our forefathers in order to protect themselves and their
crops
from being washed away by the floods. The vast plain, through which you
have
come from Shanghae, is scarcely any higher in level than where we now
stand,
for you will observe the tide ebbs and flows quite up to Mei-che. With
this
slow drainage for our mountain streams to the eastward we have
frequently a
large body of water pouring down upon us from the west, which overflows
the river's
banks and carries everything away before it. The embankments which you
observe
running in all directions are intended to check these floods, and
prevent them
from extending over the country." Upon giving the matter a little
consideration I had
no doubt that the explanation given by the Chinese farmer was the
correct one,
and that however strange these embankments might appear they were
necessary for
the safety of this part of the country. Mei-che is a long town on the
banks of the stream,
and as the river is no longer navigable for the low-country boats a
considerable business is done here in hill productions, which are
brought clown
for sale. They are put on board of boats here, and conveyed in them to
the
towns in the plains. This town appears to be almost
the western boundary
of the great silk country. Here the mulberry plantations, although
pretty
numerous, do not form the staple crop of the district, nor do they seem
to grow
with such luxuriance as they do further to the east about Hoo-chow and
Nantsin.
Large quantities of rice and other grains now take the place of the
mulberry.
In the mountains to the west considerable quantities of tea are
produced, and
fine bamboos which are sent down to the low country are made into
paper. A
mountain called Tein-muh-shan, celebrated amongst the Chinese for its
height
and for its temples, lies to the west of this, and further west still
is the
great green-tea country of Hwuy-chow, which I examined during my former
visit
to China. On my way up from Hoo-chow-foo
to Mei-che, and about
the 23rd of June, I observed that many of the worms had ceased to feed
and were
commencing to spin. The first indication of this change is made
apparent to the
natives by the bodies of the little animals becoming more clear and
almost
transparent. When this change takes place, they are picked, one by one,
out of
the sieves, and placed upon bundles of straw to form their cocoons.
These
bundles of straw, which are each about two feet in length, are bound
firmly in
the middle; the two ends are cut straight and then spread out like a
broom, and
into these ends the worms are laid, when they immediately fix
themselves and
begin to spin. During this process I observed the under side of the
framework
on which the bundles of straw were placed surrounded with cotton cloth
to
prevent the cold draught from getting to the worms. In some instances
small
charcoal fires were lighted and placed tinder the frame inside the
cloth, in
order to afford further warmth. In some of the cottages the straw
covered with
spinning worms was laid, in the sun under the verandahs in front of the
doors. In a few days after the worms
are put upon the straw
they have disappeared in the cocoons and have ceased to spin. The
reeling
process now commences, and machines for this purpose were seen in
almost every
cottage. This apparatus may be said to consist of four distinct parts,
or
rather, I may divide it into these for the purpose of describing it.
There is,
first, the pan of hot water into which the cocoons are thrown ; second,
the
little loops or eyes through which the threads pass; third, a lateral
or
horizontal movement, in order to throw the silk in a zigzag manner over
the
wheel; and lastly the wheel itself, which is square. Two men, or a man
and
woman, are generally employed at each wheel. The business of one is to
attend
to the fire and to add fresh cocoons as the others are wound off. The
most
expert workman drives the machine with his foot and attends to the
threads as
they pass through the loops over on to the wheel. Eight, ten, and
sometimes
twelve cocoons are taken up to form one thread, and as one becomes
exhausted,
another is taken up to supply its place. Three, and sometimes four, of
such
threads are passing over on to the wheel at the same time. The lateral
or zig-zag
movement of the machine throws the threads in that way on the wheel,
and I
believe this is considered a great improvement upon the Canton method,
in which
the threads are thrown on in a parallel manner. The water in the pan into which
the cocoons are first
thrown is never allowed to boil, but it is generally very near the
boiling
point. I frequently tried it and found it much too hot for my fingers
to remain
in it. A slow fire of charcoal is also placed under the wheel. As the
silk is
winding, this fire is intended to dry off the superfluous moisture
which the
cocoons have imbibed in the water in which they were immersed. During the time I was in the
silk country at this
time I was continually visiting the farmhouses and cottages in which
the reeling
of silk was going on. As silk is a very valuable production, it is
reeled with
more than ordinary care, and I observed that in almost all instances a
clean,
active, and apparently clever workman was entrusted with the care of
the
reeling process. The old temple at Hoo-shan,
which I visited again on
my way down, was in a state of great excitement and bustle. The
quantity of
silk produced here was very large, and all hands were employed in
reeling and
sorting it. The priests themselves, who generally are rather averse to
work of
any kind, were obliged to take their places at the wheel or the fire.
But as
the silk was their own they seemed, notwithstanding their habitual
indolence,
to work with hearty goodwill. My old friend the Superior, however, was
exempt from labour. When I called, and found all the verandahs and
courts in a
bustle, he was quietly smoking his pipe and sipping his tea with his
favourite
flageolet by his side. I remained with him during the heat of the day,
and in
the evening he walked down with me to the river side where my boat was
moored.
He readily accepted an invitation to come on board, and while there
took a
great fancy to a copy of 'Punch' and the 'Illustrated London News.' I
need not
say I made him a present of both papers, and sent him away highly
delighted. My
boat now shot out into the stream, and as we sailed slowly down I could
hear
the wild and not unpleasing strains of my friends flageolet as he
wended his
way homewards through the woods.
On our way down the river that
night we came upon
some people fishing in a manner so curious that I must endeavour to
describe
it. The boats used for this purpose were long and narrow. Each had a
broad
strip of white canvas stretched along the right side, and dipping
towards the
water at an angle of from thirty to forty degrees. On the other side of
the
boat a net, corresponding in size with the white cloth, was stretched
along
above the bulwarks. A man sat in the stern of each boat and brought his
weight
to bear on the starboard side, which had the effect of pressing the
white
canvas into the water and raising the net on the opposite side. A small
paddle
was used for propelling the boat through the water. This will be well
understood by a glance at the accompanying sketch.
As we approached these strange
fishermen, I desired
my boatmen to take in our sail, and as my boat lay still on the smooth
surface
of the water, I watched their proceedings with much interest. It was a
fine,
clear night, and I could see distinctly the white canvas shining
through the
water, although several inches beneath its surface. The fishermen sat
motionless and silent, and scarcely noticed us when we joined them, so
intent
were they upon their work. We had not remained above a minute in the
position
we had taken up, when I heard a splash in the water, and distinctly saw
a fish
jump over the boat and get caught by the net on its opposite side. The
object
in constructing the boats in the manner I have described was now
apparent. It
seemed that the white canvas, which dipped like a painted board into
the water,
had the effect of attracting and decoying the fish in some peculiar
manner, and
caused them to leap over it. But as the boats were low and narrow, it
was
necessary to have a net stretched on the opposite side to prevent the
fish from
leaping over them altogether and escaping again into the stream. Each
fish, as
it took the fatal leap, generally struck against the net and fell
backward into
the boat. My boatmen and servants looked
on this curious method
of catching fish with as much interest as I did myself, and could not
refrain
from expressing their delight rather noisily when a poor fish got
caught. The
fishermen themselves remained motionless as statues, and scarcely
noticed us,
except to beg we would not make any noise, as it prevented them from
catching
fish. We watched these fishermen for
upwards of an hour,
and then asked them to sell us some fish for supper. Their little boats
were
soon alongside of ours, and we purchased some of the fish which we had
seen
caught in this extraordinary and novel manner. On the following morning, when I
awoke, I found
myself quietly at anchor close by the west gate of Hoo-chow-foo, my
boatmen
having worked all night. I spent the next few days in the country to
the
northward bordering on the T'aihoo lake, and partly near the town of
Nan-tsin,
being anxious to see the end of the silk season. About the eighth, or
from that
to the tenth of July, the winding of the cocoons had ceased almost
everywhere,
and a few days after this there was scarcely a sign of all that life
and bustle
which is visible everywhere during the time that the silk is in hand.
The clash
of the winding-machines, which used to be heard in every cottage,
farmhouse, and
temple, had now ceased; the furnaces, pans, and wheels, with all the
other
parts of the apparatus in common use during the winding season, had
been
cleared away, and a stranger visiting that country now could scarcely
have
believed that such a busy bustling scene had been acting only a few
days
before. During my perigrinations in the
silk country I made
many inquiries amongst the natives as to the price of raw silk in the
districts
where it is produced. An inquiry of this kind is always rather
difficult in a
country like China, where the natives are too practical to believe one
is
making such an inquiry merely for the purpose of gaining information.
On
several occasions the reply to my question was another, wishing to know
whether
I wanted to buy. Most of the natives with whom I came in contact firmly
believed my object in coming to the silk-country was to purchase silks;
and
neither my assurances to the contrary nor those of my servants, who
were
generally appealed to on the subject, were sufficient to make them
change their
opinion. I believe, however, the information I gleaned from various
quarters at
different times will be found to be tolerably correct. At Mei-che the
price was
said to range from twelve to eighteen dollar's for 100 taels of silk.
At Hoo-chow
and Nantsin, where the silk is of a superior quality, the prices in
1856 were
from eighteen to twenty-two dollars for 100 taels. The price of raw
silk, like
that of everything else, no doubt depends in a great measure upon the
supply
and demand, and varies accordingly. |