Inside Canton. Melchior Yvan

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      In the great commercial houses, the comprador—that is to say, the man entrusted with the purchases of the house—acts as tester; but at Macao and Canton there are some persons who make it a special profession, and who go from house to house to verify the sums received. I saw at M. de Lagrené's a man who was a type of the class. When he had money to examine, he took up his position beneath the verandah of the embassy, and went conscientiously to work. But he only used his right hand; his left seemed to be paralysed, and to be condemned to perpetual repose, the fact being that each finger was surmounted by a nail whose length was greater than that of the finger itself.

      These pieces of yellow horn were frightful; they were like those wax puppets which the conjurors of the streets exhibit with their dirty fingers to the great admiration of little children. He never used his left hand, except when it was necessary to spin some doubtful piastre in the air. The Chinese men of fashion leave these exaggerations to parvenus who ​ape the gentleman, and do not wear their nails any longer than ourselves. This man told me that he took a great deal of trouble in order to avoid breaking his hideous claws; he shut them up every evening in a bamboo case. I proposed to amputate his hand so that he might keep it carefully preserved in a drawer, and thus prevent the great misfortune which he dreaded so much.

      The first floor of the American factory is devoted to the offices. The clerks go there the first thing in the morning, and come away at four in the afternoon. From this moment they are free to go and dine and to walk about the enclosure of the square in front of the hong. The whole of the second storey is divided into a multitude of apartments, great and small; it even includes the most modest cells, so that, still according to the phalansterian principle, each one may find an habitation corresponding to his position and fortune in this magnificent palace.

      In the evening, the American garden is the rendezvous of all the European residents, who go there chiefly for the sake of the sea breeze. These reunions, which are composed almost entirely of men, are remarkable for the excellent manner in which all present are dressed. The young merchants are nearly all in yellow gloves, the clergymen of course wearing their white neckerchiefs. This stiffness has a certain beneficial influence; it does not allow the ​relations existing between the exiles to degenerate into undue intimacy. What the French call camaraderie has a disastrous effect in the confined space of a ship, or on the small tract of land conceded to the factories; sufficient protection does not exist for the dignity of the individual. A man, whoever he may be, must always lose by being seen every moment without preparation, as by permitting indiscreet questions concerning his intimate impressions and thoughts. The Americans and the English, who have understood this, have imposed a limit to familiarity which is never crossed.

      After walking about for some time they return home, assemble for some hours at the house of a friend, or go out upon the terrace of the palace. Alas! it is not, as on the borders of the Bosphorus, the song of a fair odalisque that descends from the height of this aërial promenade. If the voice of a woman is raised in the midst of this group of men, it is certainly one whose discreet lips have never pronounced a tender confession, nor permitted an amorous sigh to escape them. Such is the life of the European merchants—laborious, monotonous, and somewhat contemplative.

      Some of these young merchants possess elegant pleasure-boats, in which they row about on the Tchou-kiang. Not being able to make use of their legs in this intolerant land, they are determined, at all ​events, to exercise their arms on the water. This fatiguing amusement always provokes the mirth of the corpulent mandarins, who are unable to understand how any one can row or dance for his own pleasure.

      The other factories are inhabited by Europeans whose mode of life is quite identical with that which I have just described. At the same time, the merchants of other nations differ essentially in manners, language, and dress from the English and Americans, whose cold, reserved, and dignified attitude is well worthy their imitation.

      As one of the streets in the quarter of the factories is called the French hong, I am obliged to speak of it, if only from humility. This double row of ugly houses belongs to my friend Pan-se-Chen. During our stay in China, our country had to hire No. 7, which was called the French Consulate, and it was there that our laborious commercial delegates resided. But upon the departure of M. de Lagrené's mission, France relieved herself of this burden, and for a certain time our flag ceased to fly in this port, where all nations of any importance exhibit their colours with pride. The Government of his Majesty Louis Philippe and that of the Republic had, it is true, a minister plenipotentiary in China, but he lived at Macao! that is to say, at a place where for years past there has not been a single Chinese official, and ​where the Governor has scarcely any communication with the official personages of the Celestial Empire. So that we, who unfortunately hare scarcely any commercial interests in the country—we, whose diplomatic action ought to be limited to an incessant political intervention in favour of the Catholics of the Celestial Empire—had agents who cared so little for the interests of our fellow-religionists, that, merely from motives of personal convenience, they live at a distance of thirty-five leagues from the residence of the Chinese functionaries. Instead of this, a French chargé d'affaires who wishes really to do his duty, ought to keep the cunning mandarins constantly in check; he ought to complain incessantly of the wrongs the Government has committed, of those which it commits now, and of those it may commit at any future period, towards the Catholics. It is only by means of continual and unflagging attacks, that the security of our missionaries and their disciples can be insured.

      Leaving the wall which surrounds the American factory, and walking towards the east, we come to a noisy public place, the rendezvous of the Chinese populace; immediately adjacent is the street called "Old China," or, if the reader prefer it, "T'sing-youen;" then the French hong, and afterwards the street called "New China," or "Toung-wan."

​These two streets, which have been often compared to our passages, are long alleys paved with slabs of granite, and covered over with mats, which preserve the pedestrian from the rain and the sun. At intervals there are certain aërial edifices of bamboo—kinds of bridges, on which the night-watchmen stand; and on each side of the street are shops with large windows and blinds. The houses of Old and New China Street consist of only one storey, the greater part of which is occupied by the stores. To form some idea of these two streets of European China, it is sufficient to imagine the gallery of the old Bains Chinois^[1] turned into an entrepôt for all those lacquered and enamelled playthings, and all that common porcelain, which for some years past have blocked up the Palais Royal and several of our passages.

      I never saw anything in China so stupidly dull as these two insipid passages and their trade. During three parts of the day there is not a soul to be seen; but as soon as a European heel resounds on the granite, every door exhibits a Chinaman with a naked head and a flat face, lighted up with an assumed smile, which is intended to tempt a customer to his shop. The most remarkable thing in T'sing-youen and Toung-wan is the perfect similarity of the ​houses, the shops, and the proprietors: the houses are not much more than four yards broad; the shops are carefully lacquered and varnished; and the proprietors, who are very stout, very fat, and as yellow as ochre, are all dressed in long blue robes, and fan themselves automatically with screens of painted silk.

      Old China Street and New China Street form really, a part of the European ghetto; never does a Chinaman venture into them, especially if he wants to purchase anything. A native will no more go and be taken in by the traders there, than a Parisian will visit certain shops into which provincials and foreigners plunge. The shops in these two Chinese streets of the factories are, in reality, only make-shifts: if, some fine day or other, the sovereign mob of Canton were to prohibit the barbarians from repairing to the suburbs, a traveller, pressed for time, might, in an extreme case, purchase his curiosities in the above thoroughfares. He might also, on his return, assert that he had seen real Chinamen and brought back real Chinese porcelain and fans. Such, in truth, are these two celebrated passages, of which people talk so much. I can swear that, if there СКАЧАТЬ