#3 Opium and the exotic East

    China and opium were inexorably linked in the eyes of nineteenth century Westerners. China was the classic example of the decadent, stagnant East against which the modern, active West was contrasted, and the image of the Chinaman was not complete without his opium pipe. Opium was part of the danger associated with Asia. It was a threat to the Westerner who traveled there and it was a threat to spread to Europe and America.

   This account of opium-smoking in North China comes from an account of a trip that George Fleming, an Englishman, took in 1862. At this point it was not easy for foreigners to travel in China and Fleming's book was intended as an account of the mysterious and inaccessible regions of the country. He of course has to say something about opium, and  takes a position on its supposed dangers.[1] The selection opens as he is bedding down in a lower-class inn.

 

 

Scarcely ever was a hard bed so attractive, never came sleep so willingly, but many of the unthoughtful yellow-skins without had awakened from their first nap, gorged their paunches, and set to work to amuse themselves according to their wonted custom. Some smoked tobacco; others played dominoes and cards, by the help of the faint light emitted from the saucer lamps; a few rattled dice out of a bowl within a few feet of us. Their earnest grunting voices sang out as each gambler dashed the cubes on the matting or a little stool, 'Hi yo le-o'—there is another lot of sixes. This medley disturbed our rest; and we sat a long time gazing out on the strange scene, and watching a sensual-looking young man indulging himself in the opium-pipe close to our door, regaling our sense of smell with the not disagreeable fumes of the burnt narcotic. He could not fail to see that his nocturnal orgy was the principal attraction in  the room for the eyes of the strangers, though he proceeded to satisfy his craving for the drug with the greatest un­concern. Since we had entered the house, not an inmate of it appeared moved by sufficient curiosity to raise himself from his lair to visit us.

The opium-smoker lay with his face in our direction, his head raised a little by a wooden pillow, and his whole mind given up to the inhalation of the vapor, and replenishment of the bowl by small doses of the drug picked up and stuck on the pipe from time to time. As the quantity he had smoked began to act upon his system, his features kindled up from the solid composed state they had been in previously. After each installment there was a longer interval, as if he wished to prolong the process; and he muttered away in a low tone to himself, while his black eyes sparkled vividly, and the heavings of his indeed chest denoted increased breathing. Still he lay tranquilly in the same posture with­out any symptoms of uneasiness.

 

The prescribed quantity, to our gratification, was nearly expended. Once more he stretched out his strong muscular arm towards a little tray, on which were the implements employed to charge the  "smoking-pistol"—the long needle or wire with which the opium is lifted was again in requisition—the almost empty  'ka lan' or shell was hurriedly scraped by it, and its contents, now changed from a treacly color and consistency to that of a crumb of gingerbread, steadily carried to the 'yen-tau' or cup of the pipe, which bore a decided resemblance to a magnified gas-burner in shape, and in the small perforation in the center of its top. The opium is placed on this little aperture, into which the needle is pushed to establish an opening between the interior of the vessel and the external air, then the skewer is thrown away, the open end of the 'yeu-ti'—pipe-stem—is taken between the lips, the cup is carried down to the flume of the lamp, and the opium becomes faintly red as the deep in­spirations of the now drowsy-looking man drew air and smoke into the lungs with a weak sputtering noise.

Suddenly it ceases; the pipe and the hand that held it drop together; the solitary carouse is over; the man of pleasure is overcome, and the object is attained, if not already passed by; for he lies so still that it would be difficult to believe that he was in anything but a profound trance or sleep, one so deep that the shouts and quarrels of  those within a few inches of him fail to disturb the vision or rouse his stupefied senses

He looked a sad strange figure in the foreground of that half-wild and novel tableau, stretched out on his back as if dead the scarcely moving ribs testifying that he was not really so. The hand and the  ^'pistol' were still together where they had fallen, and the head resting on the stool showed the deep yellow features but imperfectly by the partial gleam of the half-extinguished lamp that stood near, illuminating but obscurely the corner where the victim reposed. It revealed the saddle and its load of effects laid up against the wall; the journeying wardrobe, wet and soiled, close to our partition; and the heavy odd-shaped sword within easy grasp, of the nerveless hand; while the strong flaring blaze of the large lamp in the background threw marvelously weird-like lights and shadows through the long vista, and brought out in grotesque relief the nude beings coiled up and laid out in sleep; the boisterous gamblers dressed and undressed, engrossed with their play, squatting or reclining in every conceivable way, as well as the miscellaneous agglomeration of all sorts of uncouth articles on beams, posts, and beds; all this gave one a vivid impression of a robbers' den, though the lingering aroma of the poppy's juice was rather out of place.

This was the first time I had seen the beginning and ending of an opium-smoker's orgy, and watched the gradual change through the whole of the stages, from excitement to stupefaction and somnolency.  I was satisfied that it was a very quiet and unobtrusive way of getting dead drunk, however injurious it might be in the long run; and was productive of but little annoyance to the lookers-on.

At Singapore, at Hong Kong, but, more particularly at Tianjin, I had often peeped into the interiors of the opium-shops, fully prepared to meet with some of those fearful wrecks of humanity that rouse the sympathies and curdle the blood of our people at home, when described in pro-China speeches and books; but I beheld nothing more than what I have just described—in fact not so much, for the dens were seldom so agreeable as to be supportable for a period long enough to enable a visitor to see a votary take his allowance out—and everything, as orderly and peaceably as the most sober race of people could desire.

At Tianjin I made many inquires, and haunted for some time a number of the shops in our vicinity, and gathered as much information as any stranger could well do under the circumstances. The number of the 'Yai-pian yan-pu' or opium-smoke shops then was about 300. These are places where opium can be purchased, seethed and prepared for immediate use, in small quantities, by people who use it in their own homes, and where it can be consumed on benches built up in the room usually set apart for that purpose in all these places. There are, besides, many wholesale establishments for the sale of this article to the retail shops, but where it is not per­mitted to be used on the premises by customers.

The smoking-shops are generally in low, dirty, out-of-the-way streets and back alleys, and are kept concealed from view as much as may be compatible with the trade carried out in them. Ruinous hovels, regular dens, a degree or two more forbidding than our dram-shops in the 'slums' and lanes of our large towns, and without sign-boards —for the vice, one would think, is tried to be kept a hidden one—'cribs' which would be passed without any suspicions as to their character. by those who had not been told, are met with in every part of Tianjin city and suburbs.  You are threading your way through some sickening passage formed by gables and fronts, backs and corners of runagate and advancing houses, handkerchief to nose and mouth in one hand, and a strong stick for the benefit of the swarming curs in the other. You are exploring, looking out for novelty and adventure in any shape, but chiefly to study the manners and customs of the people. Every open door has had its share of your attention, every courtyard its scrutiny. Workshops have been entered, the mechanical operations criticized, and the salient characteristics noted. You leave, perhaps wiser, per­haps gratified; and continue your route with the usual disagreeables, until you come to a corner where a great round piece of brown paper clings to the wall, so like the color of the wall itself, that you may have passed a dozen such without your eye catching their outline.  You are on the trail; the scent is strong. You may be as certain of what is about the vicinity of that brown paper, as the North American Indian used to be when he saw a twig snapped from a bough, or a scrap of dress fixed on a thorny bush.

A 'howff" is near, and you search. There is no corre­sponding paper on any of the doors, and you penetrate farther into the maze, when you remember that a courtyard full of rubbish was passed, at the top of which stood a riddled sort of bothy with the windows thickly patched with paper, and the door, well fitting, closed. You turn back, peep behind the courtyard gate, and discover another disc of whiteybrown.

Without any warning to those who may be inside, you advance to the door, and shove, it boldly open.  You will find a darkened room as soon as you close it behind you again, with a couple or so of tiny lamps burning in various places, making the darkness darker still, and reminding you of those lamps which superstition says are ever faintly gleaming in the old Roman sepulchers, and are only extinguished when these, are opened to the light of day. You stand at the floor-post for a minute or two, during which vision is slowly returning, and the proprietor or manager—though he would rather not see strangers enter his secluded abode—makes you welcome. Three or four dark masses are laid on the, ever-lasting benches. They are labourers or some such members of a poor class taking their daily or afternoon dose, after the benefit of the morning one has passed off. Three have just begun, and the fourth is resigning himself to the dreamy sleep. That, is all you can see; and you stay in the mixed flavored dungeon for a few minutes, just to assure the landlord that you intended him a friendly visit.

The sight is a pitiable one—a sad one, but not so repulsive nor so heart-rending as that I once witnessed in what might be called a public-house on a summer's afternoon in Stam-boul, where the opium-chewers were at work and going on like men possessed with demons, until they subsided into lumps of paralytic imbecility, fagging a year of nature in an hour; neither does it affect one half so much as the glare and the misery, the garish display and the ragged brutalized mob, the stir and commotion, the ribald and profane language, or the indecent quarrel and the savage bull-dog-like fight, that may, alas, too often be observed by the stranger who traverses our own land, and who, at a distance—for we would advise him not to enter—surveys the 'life' at the gin-palaces, the taverns, public-houses, drain-shops, and tap-room, decorated by their gay luminous show and superb fittings, to be found in all our great thoroughfares in manufacturing towns and cities, and providing plenty of occupation for the policeman, the jailer, and the hangman.

If opium-smoking is a great evil among the Chinese people —as it is, no doubt, yet they endeavor to hide it—they are ashamed of it—and it offends neither the eyes nor the hearing by obtrusive publicity. It is not made a parade of by night and by day; neither does it give rise to mad revels and murderous riots. Its effects on the health may be more prejudicial than our habit of alcohol-drinking, but yet it is hard to see any of these broken-down creatures that one reads about.

A strong opponent of opium-smoking, and a man who spoke the Chinese language thoroughly, took me to an opium-shop to see some of these examples, but the exhibition was what we should call a failure so far as the exposure of the unhealthy effects of the drug might be considered.

The room was filled with men of nearly all ages, and as robust-looking as the majority of their townsmen. They freely answered all questions, and the result was not particularly unfavorable to the reputation of the habit, compared with the number of lives sacrificed every year by the use of alcoholic liquors and the number of strong constitutions sapped by them in other countries.          

We can recall to mind one old fellow, fifty-two years of age who confessed that he indulged himself as often as he could afford it, which was always twice, often thrice a day. His earnings daily were about two hundred and fifty cash as a coolie, and out of this he spent one hundred in opium.  This man had taken it for twenty-two years, and left it off twice during that period—once voluntarily—when he was induced to begin it again at the instigation his friends (?), and the second time to allay the pangs of hunger after he had abstained from smoking for some months. Two boys— his sons—usually accompanied him, and remained in the shop while he was engaged with his pipe. How like the gin-shop family meetings!

On being asked why he smoked opium, he could not give any satisfactory answer; and his sensations, while under the effects of it, were vaguely described as strength imparted to him, and the production of happiness to a degree he could not find words to express. When he required opium he did not feel well, and experienced a sensation as if his breast was being torn open.  If it were possible, he said he would gladly abstain from it, though he feared he could not voluntarily do so; but if confined in a room for several days, and plenty of food allowed him, he supposed he could then do without the smoke.

Another of my friends, also an anti-smoker, used to select cases of infirm-looking Chinese in the streets as objects who were  succumbing to the narcotic; but unfortunately for his judgment, the greater portion of these disavowed having anything to do with the drug, and gave positive reasons for their sickness. If an impartial observer were to go the rounds of the three kingdoms, and direct his attention to the effects of strong drink and the spectacles it affords, and then do the same in China,—of course I speak of the North more particularly, as I have had more ample opportunities of investigating this matter there than in the South, with regard to the opium question—I can almost, safely predict at what conclusion he would arrive.

One occasionally meets with pictures for sale in the streets, in which are caricatures of emaciated creatures with terrible eagerness clutching the pipe as they lie in a dilapidated house, their clothes in rags, and their toes protruding through their worn-out shoes. And in one of the temples at, Tianjin, where the Buddhist pandemonium was represented in all its horrors, and the punishments to be awarded the transgressors of Fo's precepts portrayed by plastic models with an almost supernatural talent in devising infernal torture, the opium-inhaler is there represented awaiting his doom; yet in spite these illustrations the custom is on the increase. It is a hidden vice, but Chinamen will tell you that every shop ought to or does pay a secret tax—a 'squeeze'—to the mandarins, and that the latter are kept well informed as to the number of new openings which take place, consequent on the flourishing state of business in the drug that briefly cheers, but deeply enervates.

A slave to the narcotic is perfectly well aware of his danger, and the enormity of the offense he is committing against his family and relations—in starving the one, and disgracing the other—but he looks with fear and contempt on a drunken European who reels and tumbles about in the street, kicks up brawls, and sheds blood, and wonders why, if the foreigner is determined to get rid of his senses for a time, he does not do so pleasantly and peaceably, instead of acting like a wild beast.

There is little use in a missionary preaching to the Chinaman about his evil propensity, when the man can point to the preacher's countrymen and ask if the 'samshu' is not worse than the opium; and if you showed him a print of Cruikshanks' bottle, he would tell you --and perhaps you wouldn't quite disagree with him—that opium could never produce such a tableau. It is a vexed subject, as is teetotalism to many people elsewhere, and, as Chinese gambling might be, if viewed in the same light.

Let us quit the midnight amusements of a strange inn and bolting with some care the passage door, seek our room. Before consigning ourselves, however, to repose, with the clatter outside still strong in our ears, the expediency of inserting five bullets in each of our revolvers was not overlooked, and the Japanese chopper was placed in the most advantageous position under M's pillow, ready for a half-asleep hack and thrust; for we reasoned that since the Chinese showed such a fancy for lethal weapons, and manifested so much prudence in their disposal at night, there could be surely no valid objections to our doing the same.