We anchored in Macao roads about mid-day, perhaps on the very spot, where a sailor’s malice fired a magazine, and blew high in air, with a noise like thunder, the atoms that composed the Portuguese frigate Donna Maria, some years before. Macao, though in, is not of China; instead of the low hut-like structures of unburnt blue brick and fantastic tile of the Celestial, the eye, as it takes in the fine sweep of the Praya, rests on large mansions whose verandahs exclude the sun, whose portals are spacious and stylish, and whose stucco little discolored by time, only appears all the more impressive, and sees rising on the eminence behind venerable cathedrals; while garrisons, crown batteries, and old-looking forts on either side, with the ensign of Portugal, define its ownership, and make the picture more imposing. It was here that the zeal of the Jesuit commenced the propagation of his faith and questioned the ethics of Confucius; it was here that the “glory and shame” of Portugal—one-eyed Camoens—disgusted at the country which could neither appreciate his genius nor reward his courage, spent in voluntary exile five years of his life and completed the Lusiad—that poem which, when shipwrecked, he saved from destruction by swimming and holding it above water, and that was ultimately to meet with the worse fate of being rendered into another language by Fanshaw. It was here that the English displayed the surreptitious boldness of carrying away, by the power of arms, from Portuguese custody, a missionary who had been guilty of the bad manners and overt nonsense of offending people not his own, by a refusal of compliance with a very ordinary custom, on the occasion of a catholic procession, at a time when the authorities and the greater part of the population were witnessing a boat regatta in their harbor; and it was at the outer barrier of Macao, that its governor, a few years ago, while taking an evening ride with one of his aids, was cut to pieces by the revengeful Chinamen, because of his having caused a road to be made through one of their burial-places in the vicinity.

On anchoring, a number of us paid a visit to the shore, which was some distance, in a Chinese “fast-boat,” the ship’s boats being seldom used in those countries, both because of a sanitary regard for a ship’s company, who would suffer from long rows under a new and sickly sun, and because the Chinese conveyances are scarcely the tax of a song: a “fast-boat,” with a crew of three or four rowers, which also serves as the floating habitation of the owner and a family composed of as many more, can be employed for constant attendance on a man-of-war for a very small number of dollars per month. They are always at hand; when not going they are made fast astern, and when triangulating between Whampoa, Macao, and Hong-Kong, they follow with Ruth and Naomi constancy. Will we forget you, old Ashing?—with your punctuality and good-natured readiness, whether disturbed at your chow-chow, or called at late hour of the night? Then, too, your ever equable philosophy; the Irish pilot knew the rocks in the channel well, especially when he thumped on top of one; but your foresight, far surpassing his, always told us, in answer to the question, “Can you take us off?”—“Supposee too much no good wind, no can catchee ship: Supposee no too muchee bad wind, can catchee ship,”—which was so solacing. The name “fast-boat” is a misnomer, except when chased by a good wind, and then they move through the water, impelled by their large mat-sails, with great rapidity. They are built in a wedge-like shape, generally some twenty feet long, with a small indented place with seats under matting for their passengers, and movable decks, below which the crew stretch themselves to sleep. Since the days of the “old woman who lived in a shoe,” nothing can be found which has been made to contain more human beings in the same space than a Chinese fast, or tanka boat, besides having room for cooking purposes, a watertank, a spare spar, and a small altar, in whose front a joss-stick kept burning propitiates their tutelar deity. Ye pampered denizens of the crowded city, upon whose elbows the bricks and mortar of more plebeian neighbors crowd too close, go and learn of those human bees of the world, economy of space.

The water becomes so shoal before reaching the stone pier, that the little vessel lowers sail and drops anchor—this shoalness is the result of that want of force or energy, which, shown in the decline of Goa, could not maintain the fortifications of Point de Galle after building them, and which from sudden and unhealthy culmination, has marked the downfall of all the Portuguese possessions in the East.

We were encompassed by tanka-boats—so named from their resemblance in shape to an egg—a great number of which they could scarcely contain. Their maiden proprietors, with their pretty teeth, big nankeen breeches, nicely-plaited hair, small bare feet and braceleted wrists, at once set up the cry, “Takee my boatee!—takee my boatee!” Some one having taken the cockle-shell barge of Atti, and some other that of Aqui, a few moves of the powerful skull of the Celestial Charon at the stern, as her small feet step back and forth on a neatly-scoured miniature platform, and a few pulls at the sweep-oar of the Celestial Charon in the bow, and the boat now is in the sand of the beach. One of the maidens, with none of the aversion of the feline species, steps over into the water, arranges a small cricket-bridge, and balance-pole of bamboo, and with the right hand of fellowship helps you up on the nice stone jutty. Up, you walk to Franck’s hotel, on the wide and level praya, leading to the circular promenade on which the Rip Van Winkle population, when the hot sun is nearly down, go to take their ante-supper walk and evening airing.

On the 18th of April we left the anchorage of the old Portuguese city, and started for our first visit to the anchorage of Canton for ships drawing twenty feet of water. We stood across the wide and turbid estuary of the Pekiang, and about twelve o’clock we reached the Bocca Tigris—the proper mouth of the Canton river—and passed the forts of the Bogue, that the English ships Andromache, Imogen, and others, handled so badly as they held on their way up to their great city. We were detained some time before reaching here, by having towed under an itinerant fast-boat who had made fast astern. It took some time to right his boat, bail her, and take off the crew who huddled on her keel. The fellow was attempting to smuggle salt which made his boat too deep. He afterward fell into the hands of some of the river pirates who infest the waters of China. We ran through fish-stakes innumerable, passed pagodas—those lofty, circular, terraced piles of brick and porcelain, which some of the Chinamen tell you were built to mark the commencement of learning and civilization with them, and others that they keep off evil spirits from the country visible from their tops—and at three o’clock were moored in Whampoa Reach, surrounded by merchant-ships of all nations; from the mountainous old East Indiaman, to the (cynosure of all) magnificent American clippers. ’Tis here, of all the world, in a limited space, that the alpha and omega of naval architecture are to be seen—the “Flying Cloud,” the “Sea Serpent,” and the Chinese salt-junk.

After chartering a Peruvian-built bark as a coal-ship for the squadron, and ordering two officers to her, allowing those of the Mississippi to make a hurried visit to Canton, and shipping about forty Chinese coolies, whose names puzzled the purser to enter, we returned to Macao and then to Hong-Kong. On the 27th April we left the latter place for the more northern port of Shanghae, where the steam-frigate Susquehanna awaited the arrival of the commodore, who proposed making her his flag-ship because of her noble spaciousness. We went out by the Lymoon passage, and with the ship deeply laden with coal, staggered along up the Formosa channel. For a few days we had a mist so thick that it precipitated in rain, and afterward a fog so thick that we ran slowly and cautiously not to go over Chinese fishermen, and also to take soundings, for which purpose the engines were stopped at intervals. Our band played at intervals: the English-coast pilot on board had a Kanaka servant with him; this fellow would listen to the music with much interest and seem delighted: the Chinese cooley would move about the deck the while, apparently perfectly unconscious of, or indifferent to the sweet strains, or if he observed at all, his smooth and sinister face looked his disapproval of such a barbarian noise.

Our first of May suggested anything else but floral association. It was cold and raw; blowing fresh, and a heavy head-sea, which, during the night, smashed in the port side of the head-rail of the ship; deck wet, sky overcast; no observations, to determine our position could be taken; poor little land-birds, ejected from domicil, were perched in the rigging, too much benumbed to work their passage, and around were small junks of the Chinaman, “laying-to,” with basket-drags from head and stern, like floating anchors.

On the 3d, we entered the mouth of the Yang-tse-kiang—it being remembered that kiang is the Chinese for river. The water is as muddy as that of the Pekiang. Just inside of an island, bearing the euphonic name of the orientalist and quasi-missionary, Gutzlaff, we got an English pilot who gave us the first intelligence of the doings of the rebel army, up the river, in the vicinity of Nanking. The navigation of the Yang-tse is exceedingly intricate, owing to hard and shifting bars, which rendered it necessary for a ship of our size to proceed with much caution. The shores were low and white, and resembled the coast of Florida. Shanghae is situated on the Woosung river, which empties into the Yang-tse at the village of Woosung, and after reaching the village and anchorage for opium-ships, you run off to the left and southwest for Shanghae. Nothing can exceed the closeness and thoroughness of the cultivation visible on the bank on both sides of this tortuous stream; it looks like one great market-garden, and the wonderful industry of its cultivators, says to the black soil, month in and month out, “Give! give!” The unremitting toil, and the uninterrupted use of ammoniacal fertilizers never allow the earth to be weary of well-doing. No wonder agriculture is so fostered by the government, and that once a year the imperial cousin, &c., to the planetary system, should, by holding the plough in the field, attempt the impossibility of adding dignity to the labors of the husbandman.

A few hours’ run after entering the Woosung, enabled us to descry the Susquehanna and the Plymouth, the bend of the river, and the low and level paddy-fields, causing them to appear as if enclosed by dry land. The salute of the former came to us over any quantity of waving rice. The river, at the city, is quite narrow, and we anchored in the Chow-chow water—which, with the upturned mud, curls and eddies and turns back and runs on, causing the ships to swing every way at their anchors—just opposite to the numerous houses of the foreign residents, and a short row from a stone quay and level walk which imported cockneyism calls “the Bund.”

Below where we lay, across Suchow creek, was to be seen a neat little protestant church, with a small tower, and the unpretending residences of the missionaries of protestant churches, whose unremitting labors, and social deprivation, deserve better reward than the mere partial success with which they meet. Above the consulate and hongs, commences the city, its walls approaching the water’s edge, and running some distance back. A short walk through a crowded and muddy suburb and you enter one of the gates. The imperial authority, the Taoutae, fearing an attack from the adherents of the rebel chief, Thae-ping-Wang, had fortified the place, and most of the silk and other stores were closed. Previous to our arrival they had experienced the shock of an earthquake, which had shaken down a wall or so. I passed through the narrow, sloppy streets, but the scene was far from the animated one that we had seen in Canton. The population, whose complexions and persons are better than in the more southern districts, were evidently apprehensive that there was soon to be “too muchee bobbery,” or fighting. But nothing can restrain the lower classes from their insatiate vice of gambling. In the tea-gardens, from morning to night, it was to be seen going on; while the “sing-song” theatres were amusing others. At the entrance to a joss-house, and along the streets, were to be seen the horrible ghastly emaciation, and foamy mouths, of dead and dying beggars, in filthy tattered rags, to whose presence the passers-by seemed utterly indifferent. Some had dragged themselves to die on the flag-stone crossing of a small stream, that they might possibly get interment; it being said that any one who touched them, is compelled to have this office performed.

The occupants of the foreign hongs had formed a volunteer, or patrol company, for the custody of their property, and under the protection of the guns of quite a large English and American force, were having their amusement, indifferent to Taontae, or Thae-ping-wang. Dinners were given at the consulates, a la Chinois, at which the American and English envoys were present; and at night parties were given by these functionaries, and well attended; or a neatly-printed bill with “Imperial Theatre, Shanghai, and Vivant Regina and Princess,” requested the honor of your Company, to witness the dramatic doings of “her majesty’s servants,” of the English brig “Lily.” Then, too, there was the “spring meeting of the Shanghae races,” which were interesting, and ridiculous too, at times. The course was not very extensive, but quite well thronged, here and there a Tartar soldier being visible in the crowd. The races, in which I noticed Mr. T’hËn Tih had entered his steed Qui-Qui, were:—

The native horses are small, and the native saddles clumsy in the extreme, with their large iron-lever stirrups; and when John Chinaman, perched like a monkey on his shoulders, pushed his pony for the purse, the scene was exceedingly ludicrous. Fourteen cash make one cent, so the amount won in the last race was not so great as one would think.

On the 9th the commodore, with the customary manning of yards and salute, shifted his broad pennant from the Mississippi to the Susquehanna, and the British war-steamer “Hermes,” which had been to take the English plenipotentiary to the camp of the rebel chief below Nanking, returned with that functionary, whose mission had not proven propitious. Her officers stated that on their way up the river, near Cheang-foo, they were fired at by the rebel forces, and above Nanking by the imperial troops, but without injury. In an interview with them, the English assured them that their visit was both friendly and neutral. The rebels expressed regret at the firing, and said they would send down an order to prevent its recurrence. There being a difficulty between Thae-ping-wang and the English embassador, Sir S. George Bonham, as to the preliminaries of an interview, the “favorite of Heaven” not willing to make any concessions, the steamer returned, and was again fired at, one shot striking her hull, and another the main-yard and backstay. The “Hermes” let slip at them, knocking over some of their guns, and passed on. At a place called Silver island they stopped to take a look at the idols the rebels had broken, when one of their generals came down with an apologetic letter about the firing; it was a mistake. This general said himself, and those united with him in the struggle, were protestant Christians; that they did not tolerate opium, tobacco, or profanity, and worshipped not idols, but the one God. If they were successful they would open Nanking to all the world. At that time a great deal of aid to the labors of the missionaries in China, was predicted from their movements, which subsequent events have not realized.

The storeship “Supply,” of our squadron having gotten ashore at the mouth of the Yang-tse on the “North bank,” we were suddenly despatched to her assistance, but discovered she had gotten afloat before the Mississippi reached her anchorage. Below Woosung we took in tow a large teak-wood junk, manned by Chinamen, and laden with coal, which we were to take aboard after getting over the bar. On the 18th, while waiting for the Susquehanna, the tide changed, the old junk drifted into us threatening to crush our quarter-boats, so she was cast off. The ancient pig-tail mariner who presided over her crew and helm, though conscious of drifting each moment on a dangerous bank, would not cast his anchor, because, as it was afterward believed, he thought the “fanquis” of the American steamer were going to tow him out to sea; the consequence was, the wind and sea having increased, the junk struck, and the tide soon falling, she was hard and fast. Boats were sent to her assistance, but the breakers prevented her from being reached, before a late hour of the night, when the officer sent with the boats seeing it impossible to get her off, and seven feet water in her hold, she was abandoned, and the crew brought aboard of the Mississippi. A dismal looking set of Celestial scape-graces they were, and presented a motley group as they sat around their pig-tail Falconer encased in an antique fur cape, jabbering about their escape. Before our boats were able to reach them, they had illuminated their cabin altar, burned perfumed sticks and paper, and chin-chinned Joss with great vim, but their stupid little tutelar deity not having responded to their prayers for assistance, they became indignant, tossed Mr. Joss, altar, perfumed sticks, and all, overboard, and betook themselves to the more sensible thing of building a raft of bamboos and their huge mat sails, with which they proposed, when the sea went down, to risk their safety. They were sent back to Shanghae by the pilot-boat, having subjected Uncle Sam to some three thousand dollars’ loss, besides nearly all of the crew of the boat, that slept aboard of her, had the “junk fever,” and one afterward died from it.

The weather continuing very rough, the wind at times changing in five minutes to the opposite point of the compass, we laid under Saddle island for two or three days, when, with the “Supply” in tow, and in company with the now flag-ship, “Susquehanna,” on the 23d of May, we took our departure for the Loo-Choo islands.