The builder himself will, in all
probability, be obliged to rest contented with the consciousness of
his talent.
From the ship-yard we proceeded to the garden, which was very large
but greatly neglected. There were neither alleys nor fruit trees,
rocks nor figures; but, to make up for these, an insufferable
quantity of summer-houses, bridges, galleries, little temples, and
pagodas.
The dwelling-house consisted of a large hall and a number of small
chambers. The walls were ornamented, both inside and out, with
carved wood-work, and the roof abundantly decorated with points and
pinnacles.
In the large halls plays and other entertainments are sometimes
enacted for the amusement of the ladies, who are universally
confined to their houses and gardens, which can only be visited by
strangers in their absence. {112}
A number of peacocks, silver-pheasants, mandarin-ducks, and deer are
preserved in their gardens. In one corner was a small, gloomy
bamboo plantation, in which were some family graves; and not far off
a small earthen mound had been raised, with a wooden tablet, on
which was a long poetical inscription in honour of the favourite
snake of the mandarin, which was buried there.
After duly inspecting everything, we set off on our road home, and
reached there in safety.
I was not so fortunate a few days later on visiting a tea-factory.
The proprietor conducted me himself over the workshops, which
consisted of large halls, in which six hundred people, including a
great many old women and children, were at work. My entrance
occasioned a perfect revolt. Old and young rose from work, the
elder portion lifting up the younger members of the community in
their arms and pointing at me with their fingers. The whole mass
then pressed close upon me and raised so horrible a cry that I began
to be alarmed. The proprietor and his overseer had a difficult task
to keep off the crowd, and begged me to content myself with a hasty
glance at the different objects, and then to quit the building as
soon as possible.
In consequence of this I could only manage to observe that the
leaves of the plant are thrown for a few seconds into boiling water,
and then placed in flat iron pans, fixed slantingly in stone-work,
where they are slightly roasted by a gentle heat, during which
process they are continually stirred by hand. As soon as they begin
to curl a little, they are thrown upon large planks, and each single
leaf is rolled together. This is effected with such rapidity, that
it requires a person's undivided attention to perceive that no more
than one leaf is rolled up at a time. After this, all the leaves
are placed once more in the pan. Black tea takes some time to
roast, and the green is frequently coloured with Prussian blue, an
exceedingly small quantity of which is added during the second
roasting. Last of all the tea is once more shaken out upon the
large boards, in order that it may be carefully inspected, and the
leaves that are not entirely closed are rolled over again.
Before I left, the proprietor conducted me into his house, and
treated me to a cup of tea prepared after the fashion in which it is
usually drunk by rich and noble Chinese. A small quantity was
placed in a China cup, boiling water poured upon it, and the cup
then closed with a tightly-fitting cover. In a few seconds the tea
is then drank and the leaves left at the bottom. The Chinese take
neither sugar, rum, nor milk with their tea; they say that anything
added to it, and even the stirring of it, causes it to lose its
aroma; in my cup, however, a little sugar was put.
The tea-plant, which I saw in the plantations round about Canton,
was at most six feet high; it is not allowed to grow any higher, and
is consequently cut at intervals. Its leaves are used from the
third to the eighth year; and the plant is then cut down, in order
that it may send forth new shoots, or else it is rooted out. There
are three gatherings in the year; the first in March, the second in
April, and the third, which lasts for three months, in May. The
leaves of the first gathering are so delicate and fine that they
might easily be taken for the blossom, which has no doubt given rise
to the error that the so-called "bloom or imperial tea" is supposed
not to consist of the leaves but of the blossom itself. {114} This
gathering is so hurtful to the plant that it often perishes.
I was informed that the tea which comes from the neighbourhood of
Canton is the worst, and that from the provinces somewhat more to
the north the best. The tea manufacturers of Canton are said to
possess the art of giving tea that has been frequently used, or
spoiled by rain, the appearance of good tea. They dry and roast the
leaves, colour them yellow with powdered kurkumni, or light green
with Prussian blue, and then roll them tightly up. The price of the
tea sent to Europe varies from fifteen to sixty dollars (3 to 12
pounds) a pikul, of 134 lb. English weight. The kind at sixty
dollars does not find a very ready market; the greater part of it is
exported to England. The "bloom" is not met with in trade.
I must mention a sight which I accidentally saw, one evening, upon
the Pearl stream. It was, as I afterwards heard, a thanksgiving
festival in honour of the gods, by the owners of two junks that had
made a somewhat long sea voyage without being pillaged by pirates,
or overtaken by the dangerous typhoon.