The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864: Devoted To Literature And National PolicyVarious
History
The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No. 6, December 1864: Devoted To Literature And National Policy
Various
Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals; United States -- Politics and government -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Conspicuous among this fleet were the timber vessels, which were so
loaded as to be able to move only with the tide. The art with which
their lading was tied to the vessels, so as to preserve their shape
while stretching far over the water on either side, was admirable; and,
out of fifty timber junks, all seemed to be loaded in precisely the same
manner. This was accomplished by laying the ends of the poles, tied in
fagots, toward the bows, while their smooth, round butts were exposed to
the action of the tide. The sticks being of uniform length and
thickness, tapering evenly, and about twenty feet long, it was easy to
arrange their fagots so as to give them the swelling lines of a ship,
and enable the junk to breast the storms of the coast without damage to
her cargo.
Woosung, itself, is a place of no interest whatever--a filthy village,
with a market place on the river; the remains of old forts in its
neighborhood, and extensive rice and cotton fields about it, presenting
the only points worthy of note.
There is an old Joss house on the outskirts of the village, occupied by
the French as a barracks, or 'garrison of occupation for the protection
of the coast,' as a cadaverous old soldier told us, manned by twenty-six
soldiers, without earthworks or protection of any kind. They constitute
the 'foreign population' of Woosung, and might as well be drafted to
some more healthy locality for any good that they can do. Such as we saw
looked like men just recovering from cholera or yellow fever.
While lying at Woosung waiting for the tide to change, we were
frequently reminded that we could not be far from a great commercial
entrepot of the world, by seeing five or six large ships, of one
thousand tons each, rush past with the tide in as many hours, tea-laden
and bound to Europe; but none of our company were prepared for what we
saw as we first rounded the point where a good view of Shanghai is
obtained, and saw, in the brilliant light of a harvest moon, the dense
forest of masts that filled the river. I have seen the mass of shipping
in the Pool at London, and in the Mersey at Liverpool, in the East river
at New York, and the Delaware at Philadephia, in Boston and San
Francisco harbors, and in all the other ports of China, and among them
all Shanghai holds no mean rank. The summer of 1863, from peculiar
circumstances, the dullness of freights elsewhere, and the depredations
of the Alabama and other piratical cruisers, called to the China coast,
and especially to Shanghai, as fine a fleet of clippers as was to be
found in any port of the world; and on that bright mid-summer night we
found them anchored in three parallel rows, crossing the channel of a
river half a mile wide, and stretching for a mile and a half, if not two
miles, up and down before Shanghai.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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