A visit to Japan, China, and India

Preface

. So many travellers round the world have published their journals, that an apology is required for adding to the list. My excuse must be that I have taken the opportunity to allude to a number of questions of public interest in which, both in and out of Parliament, I have for many years taken a deep interest. Gastard, Chippenham, November, 1876. CONTENTS.

Chapter I. From London To Japan

I left London on Wednesday, the 1st of September, 1875, and at one o'clock on Thursday, the 2nd, sailed from Liverpool in the Inman steamer " City of Chester," Captain Leitch. The day was wet and misty, and the night very dark, so that Captain Leitch, being unable to see the Tuscar, very wisely kept in mid-channel, though it took him out of his course. The next day was beautifully fine, as we entered Queenstown Harbour, where we saw the remains of the fleet anchored, and heard of that un fortunate collision in a fog similar to that we had passed through, which occasioned the loss of the " Vanguard." We were detained at Queenstown for several hours, waiting for the arrival of the mail, which gave us the -opportunity of driving round the neighbourhood, and visiting Cork. The mail came on E board in the afternoon, so we sailed about five, and at nine passed the Fastness light, and took leave of the coast of Ireland.

It was my first voyage across the Atlantic, and in a company of more than 200 cabin passengers I hardly met any one who had not made the passage before. I apprehend, however, that our voyage was an ordinary specimen of the sail across the Atlantic. The weather was generally fine, and the passengers amused themselves as well as they could, though the large number on board occasioned some inconveniences. The " City of Chester" is a very fine boat of 4600 tons. Her best day's run was 346 miles, her worst 317. The day's run gives rise to a good deal of betting, which I was afterwards told was not always fair. The passengers were mostly Americans, and I heard long and earnest discussions on the state of politics, and the chances of the next Presidential election. On Sunday Captain Leitch, who is a fine seaman and a courteous gentleman, read the Church service in the cabin.

This service in the midst of the ocean was solemn and striking. About five o'clock in the afternoon of the 10th, a pilot-boat appeared. It was a beautiful sight to see the fine cutter manœuvre, and the pilot put off in a little cockleshell of a boat which rode like a cork on the long waves. It shows the pluck of the New York pilots to come out nearly 600 miles to meet ships. At daylight on Sunday, the 12th we saw the American land before us, and reached Sandy Hook light-house after a passage from Queenstown of eight days, eighteen hours. The sail up the bay to New York is lovely, as the shores are beautiful, and the city magnificent. About half-past eight we reached New York, when I took leave of my fellow passengers, with whom I had passed a pleasant week, and landed on American ground. The United States custom-house is not the common-place affair it is in most countries.

The duties on many articles are enor mous, and Americans returning from Europe have often made extensive purchases. Luckily for me, I had very little luggage, so I passed the ordeal without difficulty, and reached the Fifth Avenue Hotel just in time to attend church. It was pleasant in a foreign land to be using the glorious liturgy we are accustomed to at home, and to be able to thank God that He had so far sped me on my way. Next day I made an excursion to Burlington, New Jersey, to visit a relative, whom I was not so fortunate as to find at home. Crossing the Hudson in pouring rain, by one of the gigantic steam ferries, which are a feature of New York, I took " the cars " (to use the expressive American phrase) at Jersey City, and pro ceeded through a fine park-like country, interspersed with pretty towns, to Trenton, where we left the Philadelphia line, and followed the beautiful banks of the Delaware to Burlington, a foreign-looking town, where the houses reminded me of Holland, but the vegetation was that of a southern clime.

I remained in New York till the morning of Wed nesday, the 15th, and greatly admired that city of B palaces. Broadway, which extends for upwards of four miles, is a magnificent street, with splendid buildings, and the Central Park is very large, and in parts beautiful. The tramways which traverse the streets are very convenient ; but it is remarkable that New York, in common, I believe, with other American cities, is deficient in good street conveyances. In Europe we are accustomed to be carried cheap ; but here, the only carriages plying for hire are lumbering chariots, worthy of the days of Louis XIV., which charge rates that are altogether prohibitory. In fact, everything here gives evidence of a country where money is easily made and carelessly spent. The hotels are magnificent, but their charges are enormous, and the system of making you pay so much per diem, without reference to whether you take your meals or not, is very objectionable.

I was anxious to leave San Francisco by the steamer of October 1st, and I therefore had only eighteen days to spend in America. J concluded it would be better to devote what time I had to the Pacific States, and to leave the Eastern for a future journey. Two lines of railway lead from New York to Niagara — the Erie, of which we have lately heard so much in the City, and the New York Central. I selected the latter because it follows the beautiful scenery of the Hudson which the Americans are fond of comparing to the Rhine. I do not think the comparison very appropriate, as it is a much broader river, and seemed to me more to resemble the Lake of Neuchatel. Winding along the lovely banks, we reached the fine city of Albany, where we left the river, and, traversing a country which, by its wooded aspect, showed that it had been formerly a forest, and passing towns boasting the classic names of Rome, Utica, and Syracuse, arrived at Niagara.

The American railways are very comfort able, though they have nominally only one class. The Pulman cars, however, are attached to each train, in which you can travel at an extra fare. These cars, which have lately been introduced on the Midland, give you comfortable sofas or armchairs by day, and sleeping-berths by night. The American fares are, I believe, low in the Eastern States ; but on the line from Omaha to San Francisco the charge is 100 dollars, which, though it is at a higher rate than we are accustomed to in Europe, is not unreasonable, considering the difficulties under which it has been constructed. The system which enables you to take a ticket at New York for San Francisco, with liberty to stop at any station you please, is a great convenience. After sleeping at the Niagara Hotel on the American side, I started to visit the Falls.

I should recommend any one with leisure to establish himself for two or three days at the Clifton Hotel on the Canada side, where the cataract can be seen to the greatest advan tage. The transit from one side to the other is accomplished by a suspension bridge. The American Fall is exceedingly beautiful, while the Horse Shoe on the Canada side is, I suppose, unquestionably the finest in the world, unless that of the Zambesi, discovered by Dr. Livingstone, must be excepted, though the great volume of spray rising from it is a hindrance to its being appreciated. After walking under the Fall, and admiring the magnificent view from the top of a house close to the Horse Shoe, we drove to the Rapids, about two miles below the Falls, and then to the Whirlpool. The latter is an extraordinary sight, as the river, after running straight from the Falls for some three miles, apparently comes to an end ; but on proceeding a little further you perceive that it turns at right angles very suddenly, and that the turn occasions a whirlpool.

I was familiar with the Horse Shoe from pictures ; but this sudden bend, of which I did not recollect to have heard, surprised and de lighted me. Niagara is among the greatest wonders of this beautiful world, though the surrounding country is not remarkable for scenery. Still, when I remember Moore's enraptured description, — " These are miracles which man, Caged in the bounds of Europe's pigmy plan, Can scarcely dream of, which his eye must see To know how beautiful this world can be," — I think he never can have gazed on those sublime Alpine scenes with which, in these days, every English tourist is familiar. While we were at the Rapids it began to rain, and when the train left the Suspension Bridge station it had increased to such a storm as I have rarely witnessed. The railway is carried over the river by a suspension bridge — a triumph of engineering skill.

The Great Western Railway of Canada carried us past the end of Lake Ontario, through a country of forests, where the stations bear the English names of Grimsby, Woodstock, London, and Chatham, to Windsor, when the train was ferried over by a steam bridge to Detroit. I deeply regretted that time did not per mit me to remain in Canada, because I feel that everything which concerns that great dominion should be of interest to an Englishman. Our great object should be to draw closer those ties which unite Canada to our common sovereign and our common country. The journey from Virginia to Salt Lake City occupied between four and five days of continuous travelling. After leaving Detroit, passing through the States of Michigan and Indiana, we reached Chicago, where Lake Michigan was breaking on the shore like a stormy sea.

Owing to the train being an hour and a half late, I lost the opportunity of driving through this wonderful city, which in three years has been rebuilt after the great fire. I believe its great sight is what was at that moment the largest hotel in the world, though it has subsequently been eclipsed by one at San Francisco. We proceeded across the State of Illinois, through a fine agricultural country, though dull, flat, and destitute of trees, and about nightfall crossed the magnificent stream of the Mississippi to the town of Burlington, in Iowa. Next morning we reached Council Bluffs, on the eastern side of the Missouri, and crossing that river by a very long bridge, rendered necessary by the sand-banks through which its shifting current winds, reached Omaha. The tide of American settlers is constantly sweeping West, so that what a few years ago was a back-wood station is now a flourishing city ; but at the present time Omaha may fairly be considered as the spot where civilization terminates, and you enter on the dismal prairies.

Three railways from Chicago converge at Council Bluffs, while the Union Pacific is the only line beyond Omaha. We continued our journey across the prairies, where is much fine land, which some day will be productive ; but these long, rolling, monotonous tracts, without a tree to be seen, are very uninteresting. Where there are some inhabitants, herds of cattle graze, and ante lopes and prairie dogs are to be seen ; but the Indian and the buffalo, who formerly tenanted these wilds, have disappeared. Much as this railway does for present convenience, it is sad to think it is at the expense of the ancient and lawful owners of the country. Nor are they replaced by better men, as the new-comers are often among the most lawless of mankind. We had three prisoners in the train, who had been arrested for committing a murder, and who narrowly escaped being lynched.

Along this route in former days the Mormons and other emigrants toiled in waggons, dis playing the virtue of indomitable perseverance. The scene is dreary as the Russian steppes between Moscow and Odessa ; but what is very remarkable is that the line attains the great elevation of 8250 feet above the level of the sea by a gradual ascent, without terraces or other engineering works. After crossing the last chain of the Rocky Mountains, we left the prairies and descended through charming ravines, which reminded me of the Valley of the Tchernaya in the Crimea, to the junction station of Ogden. The absence of trees through the whole route is very remarkable. What is called the 1000-mile tree is situated some four or five miles from the 1000-mile post, and I presume is so called from the difficulty of finding one nearer.

On the other hand, the rocks are magnificent, and one is occasionally carried through scenes of wild grandeur. At Ogden the Union Pacific Railway from Omaha meets the Central Pacific Railway from San Francisco, while a short line takes you to Salt Lake City, the Mormon capital. My train was impeded, in traversing this line, by a tremendous storm of wind, but I arrived about 10 p.m. on Sept. 20, and took up my quarters at the Townsend House. In America, hotels frequently bear the name of the owner. The Walker House, the rival hotel, is in the hands of the Gentiles, between whom and the Mormons there seems great hostility. At supper I had a long conversation with my land lord, who came with the early settlers from Nauvoo, and settled here twenty-three years ago, though since that time he has been on a mission to England.

The hardships which these early settlers must have endured in passing through the wilderness which the railway now traverses prove them to have been influenced by strong fanaticism. He told me that the population of the city consisted of 25,000 Mormons and of 3000 Gentiles. He said they accept the Bible in its liberal sense, holding the Book of Mormon to be a sup plementary revelation in regard to the Church in America. He defended polygamy as a check on immorality. Next morning I ascended a hill overlooking the town, which presented a striking appearance. It is laid out in blocks of ten acres, with eight houses to each block, so that every house has one and a quarter acres of land. These are traversed by streets at right angles, through which water is carried, while tramways are laid down in the leading thoroughfares.

The town lies like an oasis in a valley, with barren snow-capped mountains around it, and the Salt Lake in the distance. Whatever we may think of the Mormons, we must do justice to the energy which has converted a wilderness into a smiling garden. The Tabernacle is an immense building, capable of seating 13,000 people. It was hung round with texts of Scripture and moral sentences, while the roof was decorated with imitations of flowers. It would have been interesting to have been here on a Sunday, and to have heard a Mormon sermon. Near it the Temple, another religious edifice, is being slowly built. I called on the Hon. James Cucannon, the represen tative of the territory of Utah in Congress, where he sits with the right of speaking, but not of votino-. J found him a very superior and intelligent man, and was much interested in his views on American politics and the chances of the next Presidential election, as from his position he was able to take a more dispassionate view of the state of affairs than most of those whom I have met with.

I had failed to get a letter of introduction to Brigham Young, or, as he is here designated, " His Excellency President Young," and therefore made no attempt to see that extraordinary personage, though I should have much liked to do so. The ride back to Ogden along the banks of the lake was striking from the clear, serene atmosphere, and the graceful shapes of the mountains. From Ogden I proceeded towards San Francisco, a journey of forty-eight hours. The train stops for meals, which are dignified with the names of " breakfast," " dinner," and " supper," and are charged a dollar each. Every meal, however, is alike, consisting of beefsteaks, pancakes, and coffee. Our ride on the 22nd lay through plains which abound in alkali, and, the day being hot and dry, the dust was very un pleasant. The only vegetation seemed to be sage grass.

The absence of trees continued, and the only difficulty the engineers appear to have encountered has been to protect the line from snow, which requires fences and long galleries. On this day, for the first time, we saw Indians begging at the station. It was a most melancholy sight to behold the remnants of a once noble and powerful race sunk to the lowest state of degradation. We sometimes hear it said that it is a law of nature that the feebler races of mankind should be extinguished by advancing civilization. To me this appears a hollow and worthless excuse for the cupidity and rapacity of mankind. Civilization professes to aim at the elevation and improvement of the human race, while by the precepts of our holy religion we are com manded not to defraud or go beyond our neighbours in anything.

Can it then be said that the only way to elevate the earth is to improve the weaker race of man off its face ? Such a doctrine is a disgrace to civilization, a violation of the principles of Christianity. I know that the improvement of aboriginal tribes is an undertaking of great difficulty; but missionaries going forth in dependence on the help of God have been blessed in their arduous labours, while the State is bound to afford them justice and protection. In this duty most governments have lamentably failed. It is only justice to the Washington Government to say that they have been honourably distinguished by their anxiety to promote the welfare of the Indians, and President Grant in particular has striven to pursue a humane policy. In our own country, King William the Fourth ought to be gratefully remembered for his declaration to Lord Glenelg, in regard to the Caffres, that "he would not have his dominions extended by injustice •" while in France the policy of the unfortunate Emperor Napoleon the Third, in regard to the Arabs of Alo-eria, deserved the admiration of every friend of humanity.

But while, in both the New and the Old World individual rulers have endeavoured to promote the interests of those who have none to protect them, most States have allowed the aborigines to become the prey of the settlers. A quarrel springs up between a settler and a native. It is easy for a man of some education to put the poor native technically in the wrong. The State takes the part of the settler, and either by regular troops, or merely by the exertions of the emigrants, the natives are expelled from their country, or perhaps wholly exterminated. Such, alas ! is the process which has gone on in whatever part of the world civilization has come in contact with barbarous men. Everywhere we see what Macaulay called " the most affecting of human spectacles — the strength of civilization without its mercy."

The aborigines are conquered and en slaved, and drunkenness completes the destruction which oppression has begun. Such has been the history of the destruction of the Indian tribes along the Pacific route. Here they were confronted with men possessing the energy of the American character, but also possessing that reckless ness too often found in those who prefer the wild life of the back-woods to the monotony of a highly-civilized community. The Washington Government was dis tant, and, if it had the power, had not the will to inter fere between its own citizens and the Indians. Con sequently, after many hard contests, they have been deprived of their country, and whisky is completing the ruin of this once-powerful people. They are nojv thrust back on reservations which Congress has set aside for them, and where, it is to be hoped, effectual measures will be taken for their protection and improvement.

During the night we passed Reno, the junction for Virginia City, celebrated for those wonderful silver-mines whose productiveness is now disturbing the currency. I should have much liked to visit them, but unfortunately the time at my disposal did not permit it. On waking next morning, I found myself in a snow-shed, where the train was stopping, owing, as I afterwards learned, to another snow-shed having been on fire, and blocking up the way. In this part of the line it is continually necessary to carry it through long galleries as a protection against the winter snow. The descent of the Sierra Nevada into the plains of California is a triumph of engineering skill amid lovely views. We rounded a mountain called Cape Horn, down which the railway is carried to the town of Colfax. The scenery is certainly very grand, and to an American, particularly to an inhabitant of the vast plains of the Central States, it must appear stupendous, but to an Englishman who has traversed the railroads over the Simmering and the Brenna, over the Apennines and the Black Forest, and who has crossed the wonderful roads which span the Alps, while it recalls many familiar scenes of sub limity and beauty, it has not the charm of novelty.

At Colfax the train stopped for breakfast, and here I took the opportunity to convert my remaining green backs into gold. I found the question of hard money against inflation was exciting great interest ; the com mercial Eastern States as a rule advocating the for mer, the Western States the latter. I was told by a gentleman that the Western States wanted money for railways and other purposes, which they must raise in Europe, and therefore it was necessary in their interests to maintain greenbacks. I remarked that the Western States made a great mistake if they supposed that in flation, as the suspension of cash payments is called, would assist them to raise money. European capitalists like to know what interest they will receive, and they will grant much better terms if that interest is paid in gold than if it is left to a shifting, uncertain rate of currency.

It seems extraordinary, in a rich country like the United States, to find every transaction, down to a few cents., carried on in paper, and no effort made to return to the system of cash payments, or, as they call it, hard money, which prevails in every other pros perous country. In the Pacific States, with their large supplies of the precious metals, they naturally repudiate greenbacks, though they have bank notes, like our own, convertible into gold. All payments are here made in gold instead of currency. They have gold coins for as large a sum as twenty dollars (4L). It struck me that it might be worth the consideration of our own Chan cellor of the Exchequer, whether pieces of five sovereigns might not be useful in England. Leaving the beautiful scenery around Colfax, the hills became gradually lower till at last we reached a plain where the burnt-up aspect showed that we were in a southern clime.

Passing the fine city of Sacra mento, the State capital of California, I stopped at Lathrop, a junction station in the midst of a desolate plain, where I was detained several hours, with little to do but to contemplate a bear kept here for the amuse ment of the public. At length the train started for Merced, whence the stage starts for the Yosemite Valley. Here I found a good hotel, and, after travel ling five nights out of six, I had hoped for a good sleep, though a short one, but my slumbers were disturbed by the plague of mosquitoes. At six o'clock, on the morning of the 24th, I started in the stage, my companions being two ladies and two gentlemen from Indiana. Crossing an arid plain, where the heat was great, we ascended a little, and came to a village called Hornitos. Soon after this we changed with the up-carriage, which was a great advan tage to me, as the previous one had no cover for my head, as I had the box.

This, as the temperature was near 90°, was a great improvement. The road is often little more than a track, while the dust is disagreeable, and the jolting tremendous. We lunched at Mari posa, the capital of the district, round which is an enormous estate of sixteen miles square, given by the Government to General Fremont, and sold by him to a company, of whose management I heard great com plaints. From Mariposa the road was beautiful, winding through wooded vales and over hills. We surmounted a very long ascent just as it got completely dark, but the negro who drove the stage guided us down a four-mile descent with great dexterity, and about eight o'clock we reached a station called Clark's in the midst of forests, where two long ranges of wooden rooms, one for living and one for sleeping in, con stitute what in such a locality is a comfortable inn.

Seeing the Duke of Manchester's photograph on the wall, 1 found, on inquiry, that he had spent a week here. I found the journey to the Yosemite a longer affair than I had contemplated, and that I could not reach San Francisco till the day before the sailing of the steamer. This was inconvenient, and what added to the inconvenience was that, being misled by an adver tisement, I had not allowed for the expense of the trip, and as circular notes are not convertible in these wilds, I had run short of money. This was very unpleasant, particularly in a country where the hotel system does not permit one to economize. However, my landlord, Mr. Moore, whose kindness I gratefully remember, was good enough to give me credit for my bill, which enabled me to scrape through, and I had patiently to submit to the curtailment of my stay in San Francisco.

We went on horseback on the 25th to the Mariposa big trees, and, after ascending through the woods for one hour and a half, we reached what is called the " Fallen Giant," an immense tree stretched along the ground for 208 feet. Proceeding on, we visited others, called the " Grisly Giant," " Ohio," " Indiana," " Illinois," &c. One of them has been found by measurement to be 280 feet high, though Mr. Moore thinks another to be 300. Most of them bear signs of fire, owing to fires kindled sometimes by Indians, sometimes by shep herds, to clear away brushwood. The highest point c we reached commanded a very fine view over boundless forests, though one felt the want of water. After leaving Clark's, the road winds over a mountain chain beautifully wooded, and commanding lovely views of rock and dale, and descends into the Yosemite Valley, passing what is called the Bridal Veil Fall.

The valley is situated at a height 4060 feet above the sea, and is surrounded by mountains rising some 4000 or 5000 feet higher. The scenery is magnificent, owing to the bold, precipitous, and rocky character of the mountains, though it is deficient in those features to which the Swiss traveller is accustomed, the glacier and the avalanche. At the time of my visit there had been a long drought, and consequently the Falls were very low. The Yosemite Fall, opposite the village, which in three different cascades descends for 2634 feet, and I fancy must resemble the Reichenbach at Mey ringen, was dry, and the Mirror Lake, which is so named from the reflection of the surrounding mountains on its waters, was low. A river, entering the valley, comes down from the rocks above by what is named the Nevada Fail, and a little farther on forms another, called the Vernal — both beautiful.

The valley is quitted on horseback, the tourist rejoin ing the stage half-way on the road to Clark's. Here every one rides, guides as well as travellers, the former presenting a great contrast to their hardy brethren in Switzerland. The heat of the climate is some ex cuse for them. The path ascends the mountains at the back of the village, and after a steep climb of two hours and a half, commanding fine views of the valley, reaches Glacier Point (why so named I could not make out, as there is no glacier), whence a splendid view is obtained of the Mirror Lake, the Vernal and Nevada Falls, and the surrounding scenery. We then pro ceeded to the Sentinel Dome, 8540 feet above the sea, where a magnificent panorama presents itself of rocky mountains and richly-wooded valleys. We rode on through a park-like country which reminded me of the line, — " O'er California's pathless world of woods," to the place where we rejoined the stage.

This line of Montgomery's puzzled me a good deal, for though it is appropriate to the hilly region of the Sierra Nevada, yet the coast of California, which was all that was known when the poem was written, is destitute of trees. We saw deer ranging about the forest, and I understand that the poor Indians who are left in these parts hunt them. On leaving Clark's our party was joined by an en gineer engaged on the road, and at Mariposa by a doctor, who complained that practice was so bad in these parts that he could not remain there. After a jolting and hot ride (the thermometer was 92° at 5 p.m.), we reached Merced on the evening of the 29th, and next morning I proceeded by train, through the fertile though arid valley of St. Juan, to Lathrop, on the Central Pacific main line. Merced is a specimen of the way towns spring up in America.