Life and Adventures 1776-1801 (8 page)

China—Manners of the Chinese—
Food—Religion—Punishments—
Evasion of Duty—St Helena—
Author Arrives in England.

I
WAS AS
happy as any person ever was to see anything. I scarcely believed I was so fortunate as really to be in China. As we sailed up the river, I would cast my eyes from side to side. The thoughts and ideas I had pictured in my mind of it were not lessened in brilliancy, rather increased. The immense number of buildings that extended as far as the eye could reach, their fantastic shapes and gaudy colours, their trees and flowers so like their paintings, and the myriads of floating vessels, and above all the fanciful dresses and gaudy colours of their clothes—all serve to fix the mind of a stranger upon his first arrival. But upon a nearer acquaintance he is shocked at the quantity of individual misery that forces itself upon his notice, and gradually undoes the grand ideas he had formed of this strange people.

Soon as we cast anchor the vessel was surrounded with sampans. Every one had some request to make. Tartar girls requested our clothes to wash, barbers to shave the crews, others with fowls to sell; indeed, every necessary we could want. The first we made bargain with was a barber, Tommy Linn. He agreed to shave the crew for the six months we were to be there for half a dollar from each man, and he would shave every morning, if we chose, on board the ship, coming off in his sampan.

The Tartar girls washed our clothes for the broken meat or what rice we left at mess. They came every day in their sampans and took away the men’s shirts, bringing them back the next, and never mixed the
clothes. They all spoke less or more English and would jaw with the crew as fast as any women of their rank in England. They had a cage-like box fixed to the stern of their sampan in which was a pig who fed and fattened there at his ease.

Our ears were dinned with the cry of the beggars in their sampans,
‘Kamscha me lillo rice’.
I have seen the mandarins plunder these objects of compassion when they had been successful in their appeals to the feelings of the seamen. I was surprised at the minute subdivision of their money. Their cass is a small piece of base coin with a square hole in it, three of which are a kandarin; sixty cass one mace; one mace equal to sevenpence English money. The cass is of no use out of the country, and when a seaman changes a dollar he receives no other coin from the wily Chinese.

I was on shore for a good while at Wampoa, making candle for our voyage home. I had a number of Chinese under me. My greatest difficulty was to prevent them from stealing the wax. They are greater and more dexterous thieves than the Indians. A bam-booing for theft, I really believe, confers no disgrace upon them.

They will allow no stranger to enter the city of Canton. I was different times at the gate, but all my ingenuity could not enable me to cross the bar, although I was eight days in the suburbs. The Tartars are not even allowed to sleep on shore. They live in junks and other craft upon the river. If employed on
shore they must be away by sunset, but may land again at sunrise in the morning.

The Chinese, I really believe, eat anything there is life in. Neptune was constantly on shore with me at the tent. Every night he caught less or more rats. He never eat them, but laid them down when dead at the tent door. In the morning the Chinese gave vegetables for them and were as well pleased as I was at the exchange.

After the candles were made I removed to Banks Hall to repair the cooper work, and screen sand and dry it, to pack the tea boxes for our voyage home. One day a boy was meddling rather freely with the articles belonging to me. Neptune bit him. I was extremely sorry for it, and after beating him dressed the boy’s hurt which was not severe. I gave the boy a few cass, who went away quite pleased. In a short time after I saw him coming back, and his father leading him. I looked for squalls, but the father only asked a few hairs out from under Neptune’s foreleg, close to the body. He would take them from no other part, and stuck them all over the wound.
⁴⁰
He went away content. I had often heard, when a person had been tipsy the evening before, people tell him to take a hair of the dog that bit him, but never saw it in the literal sense before.

A short time before we sailed all the crew got two months’ pay advance for private trade, and purchased
what articles they chose. The dollars are all stamped by the captain, as the Chinese are such cheats they will dexterously return you a bad dollar and assert, if not marked, it was the one you gave.

With all their roguery they are not ungrateful. One day two Chinese boys were playing in our boat. One of them fell overboard. The current was strong and the boy was carried down with rapidity. I leapt into the river and saved him with great difficulty, as the current bore us both along until my strength was almost spent. By an effort I got into the smooth water, and soon had the pleasure of delivering him to his father, who stood on the beach wringing his hands.

I wished to go on board, but the Chinese would have me to his house where I was most kindly received and got my dinner in great style. I like their manner of setting out the table at dinner. All that is to be eaten is placed upon the table at once, and all the liquors at the same time. You have all before you and you may make your choice. I dined in different houses and the same fashion was used in them all. The Chinese never thought he could show me kindness enough.

We buried our chief-mate, Mr Macleod, whose funeral I attended, upon French Island.

Almost every junk has a mandarin on board who keeps order and collects the revenue and tyrannises over the poor Chinese. They pay money for the liberty of doing anything to obtain a living. Tommy Linn paid seventy dollars for leave to practise as barber and surgeon upon the river.

They cure every disease by herbs. When any sailor or officer was so imprudent as visit Loblob Creek and received the reward of their folly, our surgeons could not cure them, yet the Chinese barber did so with ease.
⁴¹

Every new moon all the men in China must have their heads shaved. If they do not the mandarin makes them suffer for it.

They have the longest nails to their fingers I ever saw. Many of their nails are half as long as the rest of the finger, they take so much care of them and keep them so white and clean. They, I really believe, would almost as soon have their throats cut as their nails. A Chinese will hold, by their means, more dollars in one hand than an Englishman will hold in both of his. Shaking hands will never be the fashion in China.

When the day is wet or thick, which rarely happens, the Chinese will say, ‘Joss too much angry.’ Then the paper sacrifices begin. The whole river is in a smoke. Every junk, down to the small sampan, must burn, under the direction of the mandarin, a certain quantity of paper to please ‘Joss’ their god. The rich must burn fine gilt paper, the poor coarser paper. The mandarin is the sole judge of the quantity and quality—from him there is no appeal. He himself burns no paper; a small piece of touchwood serves his turn. There he will stand in a conspicuous place, and look as steadfast upon it as a statue, until it is all burnt out.

They are the most oppressed people I ever was amongst. They must want even a wife if they are not rich enough to pay the tax imposed by the mandarin. They are summary in their justice. Wherever the theft is committed, there the mandarin causes the culprit to be laid upon his back and beat upon the belly with a bamboo the number of times he thinks adequate to the offence. If the offence is great, they are sent to the Ladrone Islands, their place of banishment for thieves. There they live by piloting vessels and fishing but are not allowed to come up farther than Macau. They are cowardly and cruel. Six half-drunk sailors would clear a whole village; but when they catch one of them drunk and by himself, then they bamboo him in the cruellest manner.

Tommy Linn the barber was the agent we employed. He brought us any article we wanted from the city and, like his brethren in Europe, was a walking newspaper. His first word every morning was, ‘Hey, yaw, what fashion?’ and we used the same phrase to him. One morning he came, and the first thing he said was, ‘Hey, yaw, what fashion? Soldier man’s ship come to Lingcome bar.’ We, after a few hours, heard that a man-of-war frigate had arrived at the mouth of the river. They are allowed to come no higher up. Tommy had seen the red coats of the marines.

They are much alarmed at the appearance of a man-of-war ship, and they often say, ‘Englishman too much cruel, too much fight.’ There were some
English seamen flogged for mutiny while we lay in the river. The Chinese wept like children for the men, saying, ‘Hey, yaw, Englishman too much cruel, too much flog, too much flog.’

Having completed our cargo, we fell down the river. As we came near to the chop-house where the chop-marks are examined (the men having many articles on board in their private trade that had not paid duty, which the Chinese would have seized), we fell upon the old stratagem. When their boat put off two of us fell a fighting and we made the whole deck a scene of riot. These timorous Chinese custom-house-officers did not offer to come on board, but called out, ‘Hey, yaw, what fashion? Too much baubry, too much baubry,’ and put back to the chop-house.

By this manoeuvre we paid not one farthing of duty for our skins which we sold in China—the officers dared not come on board. We landed them as soon as possible and, when once in the factory, all was safe.

We set sail for St Helena where we made a present to the governor of a number of empty bottles. He in return gave us a present of potatoes, a valuable gift to us. While here, I and a number of the crew were nearly poisoned by eating albicores and bonettos.
⁴²
We split and hung them in the rigging to dry. The moon’s rays have the effect of making them
poisonous. My face turned red and swelled, but the others were far worse. Their heads were swelled twice their ordinary size—but we all recovered.

In a few days we set sail for England where I arrived without any remarkable occurrence after an absence of three years, having in that time circumnavigated the globe. We came into the river in the month of September 1788.

Author Engaged as Steward of a
Convict Ship—Anecdotes of Female
Convicts—Sails for New South
Wales—Attaches Himself to Sarah
Whitlam—Singular Punishment—
Crossing the Line—Miscellaneous
Occurrences—Port Jackson—St
Helena.

I
NOW RETURNED
to Scotland with a sensation of joy only to be felt by those who have been absent for some time. Every remembrance was rendered more dear, every scene was increased in beauty. A piece of oaten cake tasted far sweeter in my mouth than the luxuries of eastern climes.

I was for a time reconciled to remain. The love of country overcame my wandering habits. I had some thought of settling for life, as I had saved a good deal of my pay. In the middle of these musings, and before I had made up my mind, a letter I received from Captain Portlock upset all my future plans and rekindled my wandering propensities with as great vigour as ever.

The letter requested me to come to London without delay, as there were two ships lying in the river bound for New South Wales: the
Guardian
and
Lady Julian,
in either of which I might have a berth.
⁴³
The
Guardian
was loaded with stores and necessaries for the settlement. There was a vine-dresser and a person to superintend the cultivation of hemp on board. She sailed long before us. The
Lady Julian
was to take out female convicts.

I would have chosen the
Guardian,
only she was a man-of-war, and as I meant to settle in Scotland upon our return I could not have left her when I chose. My only object was to see the country, not to remain at sea. I therefore chose the
Lady Julian,
as she was a
transport, although I did not by any means like her cargo—yet to see the country I was resolved to submit to a great deal.

I was appointed steward of the
Lady Julian,
commanded by Captain Aitkin, who was an excellent humane man and did all in his power to make the convicts as comfortable as their circumstances would allow. The government agent, an old lieutenant, had been discharged a little before I arrived for cruelty to the convicts. He had even begun to flog them in the river. Government, the moment they learned the fact, appointed another in his place.

We lay six months in the river before we sailed, during which time all the jails in England were emptied to complete the cargo of the
Lady Julian.
When we sailed there were on board 245 female convicts.
⁴⁴
There were not a great many very bad characters. The greater number were for petty crimes, and a great proportion for only being disorderly, that is, street-walkers, the colony at the time being in great want of women.

One, a Scottish girl, broke her heart and died in the river. She was buried at Dartford. Four were pardoned on account of his Majesty’s recovery. The poor young Scottish girl I have never yet got out of my mind. She was young and beautiful, even in the convict dress, but pale as death, and her eyes red with weeping.

She never spoke to any of the other women or came on deck. She was constantly seen sitting in the same corner from morning to night. Even the time of meals roused her not. My heart bled for her—she was a countrywoman in misfortune. I offered her consolation but her hopes and heart had sunk. When I spoke she heeded me not, or only answered with sighs and tears. If I spoke of Scotland she would wring her hands and sob until I thought her heart would burst. I endeavoured to get her sad story from her lips but she was silent as the grave to which she hastened. I lent her my Bible to comfort her but she read it not. She laid it on her lap after kissing it, and only bedewed it with her tears. At length she sunk into the grave of no disease but a broken heart. After her death we had only two Scottish women on board, one of them a Shetlander.

I went every day to the town to buy fresh provisions and other necessaries for them. As their friends were allowed to come on board to see them, they brought money; and numbers had it of their own, particularly a Mrs Barnsley, a noted sharper and shoplifter.
⁴⁵
She herself told me her family for one
hundred years back had been swindlers and highwaymen. She had a brother, a highwayman, who often came to see her as well dressed and genteel in his appearance as any gentleman. She petitioned the government agent and captain to be allowed to wear her own clothes in the river, and not the convict dress. This could on no account be allowed, but they told her she might wear what she chose when once they were at sea.

The agent, Lieutenant Edgar, had been with Captain Cook, was a kind humane man and very good to them. He had it in his power to throw all their clothes overboard when he gave them the convict dress, but he gave them to me to stow in the after hold, saying, ‘They would be of use to the poor creatures when they arrived at Port Jackson.’

Those from the country came all on board in irons, and I was paid half a crown a head by the country jailors, in many cases, for striking them off upon my anvil, as they were not locked but riveted. There was a Mrs Davis, a noted swindler, who had obtained great quantities of goods under false names and other equally base means.
⁴⁶
We had one Mary Williams, transported for receiving stolen goods.
⁴⁷
She and other eight had been a long time in Newgate where Lord George Gordon had supported them. I went once a week to him and got their allowance from his own hand all the time we lay in the river.

One day I had the painful task to inform the father and mother of one of the convicts that their daughter, Sarah Dorset, was on board. They were decent-looking people, and had come to London to inquire after her. When I met them they were at Newgate. The jailor referred them to me. With tears in her eyes the mother implored me to tell her if such a one was on board. I told them there was one of that name. The father’s heart seemed too full to allow him to speak but the mother with streaming eyes blessed God that they had found their poor lost child, undone as she was.

I called a coach, drove to the river and had them put on board. The father, with a trembling step, mounted the ship’s side, but we were forced to lift the mother on board. I took them down to my berth and went for Sarah Dorset. When I brought her the father said in a choking voice, ‘My lost child!’ and turned his back, covering his face with his hands. The mother, sobbing, threw her hands around her. Poor Sarah fainted and fell at their feet. I knew not what to do. At length she recovered and in the most heartrending accents implored their pardon.

She was young and pretty and had not been two years from her father’s house at this present time, so short had been her course of folly and sin. She had not been protected by the villain that ruined her above six weeks, then she was forced by want upon the streets and taken up as a disorderly girl, then sent on board to be transported. This was her short but eventful history. One of our men, William Power, went out to the colony when her time was expired, brought her home and married her.
⁴⁸

I witnessed many moving scenes, and many of the most hardened indifference. Numbers of them would
not take their liberty as a boon. They were thankful for their present situation, so low had vice reduced them. Many of these from the country jails had been allowed to leave it to assist in getting in the harvest, and voluntarily returned.

When I inquired their reason, they answered, ‘How much more preferable is our present situation to what it has been since we commenced our vicious habits? We have good victuals and a warm bed. We are not ill treated or at the mercy of every drunken ruffian as we were before. When we rose in the morning we knew not where we would lay our heads in the evening, or if we would break our fast in the course of the day. Banishment is a blessing for us. Have we not been banished for a long time, and yet in our native land, the most dreadful of all situations? We dared not go to our relations whom we had disgraced. Other people would shut their doors in our faces. We were as if a plague were upon us, hated and shunned.’

Others did all in their power to make their escape. These were such as had left their associates in rapine on shore and were hardened to every feeling but the abandoned enjoyments of their companions. Four of these made their escape on the evening before we left England through the assistance of their confederates on shore. They gave the man on watch gin to drink as he sat on the quarterdeck, the others singing and making fun. These four slipped over her bows into a boat provided for their escape. I never heard if they were retaken. We sailed without them.

Mrs Nelly Kerwin, a female of daring habits, banished for life for forging seamen’s powers of attorney and personating their relations, when on our passage down the river, wrote to London for cash to some of her friends.
⁴⁹
She got a letter informing her it was waiting for her at Dartmouth. We were in Colson Bay when she got this letter. With great address she persuaded the agent that there was an express for him and money belonging to her lying at Dartmouth. A man was sent who brought on board Nell’s money, but no express for the agent. When she got it she laughed in his face and told him he was in her debt for a lesson. He was very angry, as the captain often told him Kerwin was too many for him.

We had on board a girl pretty well behaved, who was called by her acquaintance a daughter of Pitt’s.
⁵⁰
She herself never contradicted it. She bore a most striking likeness to him in every feature and could scarce be known from him as to looks. We left her at Port Jackson.

Some of our convicts I have heard even to boast of the crimes and murders committed by them and their accomplices, but the far greater number were harmless unfortunate creatures, the victims of the basest seduction. With their histories, as told by themselves, I shall not trouble the reader.

When we were fairly out to sea, every man on board took a wife from among the convicts, they nothing loath. The girl with whom I lived, for I was as bad in this point as the others, was named Sarah Whitlam. She was a native of Lincoln, a girl of a modest reserved turn, as kind and true a creature as ever lived. I courted her for a week and upwards, and would have married her on the spot had there been a clergyman on board.

She had been banished for a mantle she had borrowed from an acquaintance. Her friend prosecuted her for stealing it, and she was transported for seven years.
⁵¹
I had fixed my fancy upon her from the moment I knocked the rivet out of her irons upon my anvil, and as firmly resolved to bring her back to England when her time was out, my lawful wife, as ever I did intend anything in my life. She bore me a son in our voyage out.

What is become of her, whether she is dead or alive, I know not. That I do not is no fault of mine, as my narrative will show.

But to proceed. We soon found that we had a troublesome cargo, yet not dangerous or very mischievous—as I may say, more noise than danger. When any of them, such as Nance Ferrel who was ever making disturbance, became very troublesome we confined them down in the hold and put on the hatch.
⁵²
This, we were soon convinced, had no effect as they became in turns outrageous, on purpose to be confined. Our agent and the captain wondered at the change in their behaviour.

I, as steward, found it out by accident. As I was overhauling the stores in the hold I came upon a hogshead of bottled porter with a hole in the side of it and, in place of full, there were nothing but empty bottles in it. Another was begun and more than a box of candles had been carried off. I immediately told the captain, who now found out the
cause of the late insubordination and desire of confinement.

We were forced to change the manner of punishing them. I was desired by the agent Lieutenant Edgar, who was an old lieutenant of Cook’s, to take a flour barrel and cut a hole in the top for their head and one on each side for their arms. This we called a wooden jacket. Next morning, Nance Ferrel, as usual, came to the door of the cabin and began to abuse the agent and captain. They desired her to go away between decks and be quiet. She became worse in her abuse, wishing to be confined and sent to the hold, but to her mortification the jacket was produced, and two men brought her upon deck and put it on.

She laughed and capered about for a while, and made light of it. One of her comrades lighted a pipe and gave it her. She walked about strutting and smoking the tobacco, and making the others laugh at the droll figure she made. She walked a minuet, her head moving from side to side like a turtle.

The agent was resolved she should be heartily tired, and feel in all its force the disagreeableness of her present situation. She could only walk or stand—to sit or lie down was out of her power. She began to get weary and begged to be released. The agent would not until she asked his pardon, and promised amendment in future. This she did in humble terms before evening, but in a few days was as bad as ever. There was no taming her by gentle means. We were forced to tie her up like a man, and give her one dozen
with the cat-o’-nine-tails, and assure her of a clawing every offence. This alone reduced her to any kind of order.