by Carl Crow
Business men also protected their employees from less disinterested motives. In the early days some of the big British merchants who employed Americans provided them with British passports, there being a preponderance of British gunboats which might offer them protection. The practice as well as the theory was that a consul could intervene with the Chinese officials if a “foreign interest” was at stake, and that was always given a wide and liberal interpretation. All of us leaned on the flag and advertised our nationality. There are probably more flag poles per capita in Shanghai than in any other city in the world. The visitor who comes up the Whangpoo past The Bund usually thinks that some holiday is being celebrated, for a flag of some nation is flying from every roof. Hundreds of them fly daily in the residence sections. One gets so used to seeing them that a foreign house without a flag looks naked. The Shanghailander on visits to great cities in America is always struck by the absence of flags.
During times of civil war the Chinese sailmakers’ shops along Broadway always brought out their stocks of foreign flags and Chinese bought and displayed the emblem of any nation they desired. They knew that marauding Chinese soldiers would hesitate about looting a house which appeared to be of foreign ownership. The Union Jack and the Stars and Stripes were the most popular. In the interior I have seen curious American flags with anywhere from seven to ten stripes and as many stars as the customers would pay for. But flags of all the European nations appeared in time of trouble, their use being entirely unauthorized. Sometimes a wealthy Chinese in the country would display three or four different flags on the theory that if one flag offered protection then he would be safer with a number of them. A large number of junks in the Middle Yangtze flew the Dutch flag for no reason that I could ever discover. Some flagmaker may have sold out his stock at a bargain sale.
There were few of us who did not at one time or the other stretch the flag to make it cover things it was never intended to cover. I had at one time about a half-dozen crews of bill-posting coolies who made monthly trips up the Yangtze as far as Shasi, a distance of about a thousand miles. We obeyed the Chinese laws in the reasonable way followed by most foreigners, which means that we paid taxes where we had to and got out of them if we could. If it seemed expedient we bribed the official and didn’t bother about getting a receipt for the money paid him. In the case of all these special taxes the taxing privilege was always sold to some “tax farmer” who kept all the money he collected so that no one had a troubled conscience in the matter of tax evasions.
But in their monthly visits to more than sixty cities on this route, the coolies almost invariably ran into some one or more petty officials who made trouble for them over matters of unpaid taxes or building permits or anything else that might be settled by the payment of money. So we solved that problem in a typical China Coast fashion. We had passport photographs made of the foreman of each gang and mounted them on an impressive-looking printed form which set forth the fact that the man whose picture appeared hereon was a duly accredited employee of an American firm doing business in China under the protection of the American laws and under rights guaranteed by treaty, etc. If any trouble occurred the bearer of the presents should be treated kindly and the matter referred to the under-signed, who was myself.
Then I went to the American Consulate and made oath that the above statements were true, so help me God, and the great consular seal was affixed with red ribbons. The intent was to deceive and it was highly successful. It was the seal and the ribbons that did the work. The minute a minor Chinese official had a look at that, he apologized and released the foreman. In many cases we escaped the payment of taxes entirely, for in the small places the officials were overawed by this impressive-looking document and uncertain about how far they might go in demanding taxes from an American. Not an official in a thousand could read the text of the statement and we did not provide a translation. I tell of this with neither pride nor shame. It was the way we did business in China and the only way business could be done.
At one time foreigners of a number of nationalities enjoyed considerable easy revenue from the sale of what were known as “transit passes.” The treaties with China provided the terms of the import duty that could be levied on foreign goods and the export duty on Chinese produce. But on the way to or from the port of entry all merchandise and produce was subject to innumerable local taxes known as likin. There were many places for the collection of these taxes on all the rivers and canals and no boat could get past these barriers until the demands of the likin collector had been satisfied. Most of these stations had been set up to raise funds for some temporary purpose such as the building of a bridge or the relief of famine but like most taxes in all countries, once they were established they were very rarely abolished. The collection of likin was very vexatious to foreign merchants and a clear violation of the spirit of the trade treaties.
The problem was finally solved by giving foreigners “transit passes” which would allow the shipment of their cargo from one point to another in the interior of China without the payment of these transit taxes. As has been true of many things in China, the solution of one problem only created others. The transit passes had been in use only a short time before foreigners began taking nominal possession of cargoes belonging to Chinese, securing transit passes and transferring these passes to the real owners of the goods for a sum less than the taxes the Chinese shipper would avoid paying. The system became so widespread and was the source of such easy profits that there were wrathful and indignant protests when the British and American ministers took action to put an end to the practice. Foreigners assumed that the money went to some tax concessionaire and therefore they were justified in using any method to aid their Chinese associates in escaping payment. It was a highly profitable business while it lasted. There have been few British or American diplomats who were popular with the business men of their own nationality in China. The latter have naturally interpreted every treaty right in a way that would mean the greatest profit to themselves. In the discovery of convenient loopholes they have had the most enthusiastic and expert assistance from their Chinese associates. In a great many cases the right a minister has been called upon to defend has all too often turned out to exist only in the mind of some merchant. While the early diplomats had many clashes with Chinese officials over the interpretations of treaties, the more recent ones have had as many if not more with their own nationals in attempts to keep them from encroaching on Chinese rights. The official representations made to the Chinese government have been numerous and vigorous but at the same time many a foreign business man has been hauled over the coals because of his attempts to stretch his rights too far. I am referring of course to the British and Americans. In the case of some of the other countries, a business man or an adventurer could be sure of the most complete support of his consular and diplomatic officials no matter how questionable his enterprise might be.
In the early days at Canton, British and American sailing-ship skippers traded flags back and forth with every local disturbance. When Canton was closed to British shipping the same British ships continued in the trade, sometimes with different names but often the same. The British flag was packed away in mothballs for a few months and a new American flag displayed. No one bothered to refer these supposed changes of registry to the home governments. Every war in China has meant the transfer of property to foreign hands and often it never got back. The first coast and river steamship company organized in China was owned by the great American firm of Russell & Co., which later sold the company to a semi-government Chinese company. Then when war broke out between China and France the American flag appeared again. When that brief war was over, the ships went back to Chinese ownership and there remained until the attacks of Japan. Now they are American again - what there is left of them.
It would not be correct to assume that all of these transfers of property nor all of the other devices which have sprung from extraterritoriality are crooked. Few of them are any
worse than the method I used to indicate to Chinese police officials that my bill-posting coolies had American passports.
X
Beachcombers, beggars and sailors
“There is many a good man to be found under a shabby hat.”
Visitors to Shanghai will note that for a city predominantly populated by people commonly known as “heathen” and notorious for its wickedness there is a surprisingly general observance of Sunday. One would naturally expect the foreign banks to be closed but it is surprising to see so many small Chinese shops tightly shuttered. If one delves into the history of the past he may come across an old municipal regulation smacking of puritanical laws for it expressly prohibited card playing on Sunday by members of the police force.
This rule was not due to an attempt to promote Sunday observance by blue law methods. The regulation was made because Sunday was a day when there were the greatest demands for the service of the police owing to the old practice in British as well as other navies of giving the sailors shore leave on that day. That was a busy day for the grog shops, a busy day for the police but many of the smaller Chinese shops found it advisable to keep their shutters closed until the sailors staggered back to their ships. With better police protection and an attempt by the gunboat commanders to keep some control over sailors on shore leave, Jack ashore is no longer the objectionable person that he formerly was. Customs once established have a long life in China and some of the small shopkeepers close their shutters on Sundays just because their grandfathers did.
The waterfront equivalent of wine, women and song has always been cheap on the China Coast, though with costs rising more rapidly than the sailors’ scale of pay. When I went to Shanghai in 1911 gin of good quality was about two shillings a bottle and Scotch whisky only a little dearer. A few years earlier French brandy could be bought for a franc a bottle. Until a local brewery was established beer was relatively more expensive than the ardent spirits.
Brawls between sailors were and still are of common occurrence and usually follow national lines. A small street in the French concession was named Rue Chu Pao San, after a dignified and highly respected Chinese resident but it is better known as “Blood Alley” because of the frequency of fights between the patrons. The most frequent offenders were the British and Americans. Sailors of both nationalities took boxing lessons not only to qualify for appearances in the ring but in order to make a good showing in barroom brawls. I was never fortunate enough to see one of these encounters but from descriptions of them as supplied by witnesses they must have been much more thrilling than any heavyweight championship.
The British and American sailors bloodied each other’s noses and blackened each other’s eyes with great cheerfulness but usually formed a close and workable offensive and defensive alliance when sailors of any other nationality appeared on the scene. There was a memorable occasion several years before the first World War when a glorious free-for-all between British and Americans was interrupted by the arrival of some German sailors. The combatants dropped their fight long enough to throw the invaders out and then continued. Italian’s and French were particularly detested because of their habit of carrying and using knives. The Italians were the dirtiest fighters and many appeals were made by the police to the Italian commanders to dis-arm their men before allowing them shore leave but nothing ever came of it. When the Italians took part in what would otherwise have been a comparatively harmless brawl there were sure to be a number of ugly knife wounds. Japanese are beer-bottle throwers. Against the ordinary contenders they are fairly successful but not against the baseball-playing American marines. Their only hope of success against a single marine is by mass attack.
There was a particularly curious private feud between Dutch and American sailors which continued for years. No one ever seemed to know just how it started but, there was a legend that at some time in the past an American sailor had been killed by a Dutch sailor. This had happened in Shanghai and the feud was confined to this port. American and Dutch ships might lie alongside each other in Hong Kong or Tsingtao or some other port with no trouble between the crews but let the same boats anchor in the muddy Whangpoo and the ancient grudge began to do its work. It was good, fair fighting on both sides but there were always a lot of casualties. The American and Dutch commanders finally arranged a special shore leave schedule so that sailors of neither nationality would enjoy that privilege at the same time.
Sailors found the China Coast a very attractive place and there were many desertions from the merchant ships. With better pay and improved living quarters on board ship conditions are not now so bad but in the sailing-ship days a skipper usually had difficulty rounding up enough men to get his ship out of port. As a result the word Shanghai became an English verb. According to Webster it means “To intoxicate and ship a person as a sailor while in this condition.” This was not the only place where this custom was followed but it was probably more prevalent here than in any other port. There were always idle sailors in port and a state of helpless intoxication could be produced at less cost by the use of kiaoliang brandy than by any other known method.
As long ago as 1857 the American consul complained about the quality of the liquor that American sailors bought in Shanghai. History does not record the source of supply at that remote period for although the manufacture of bogus Scotch was one of the first Japanese ventures into foreign trade they could hardly have started that early. But from a date shortly after that there was a constant stream of poisonous whisky and gin produced in Osaka and smuggled into Shanghai to escape the very low import duty. From the time the first poisonous bottle was produced the flow of Japanese-made Scotch whisky into ports of the Far East has never ceased. The distillers of “Black and White” Scotch managed to trail down the Japanese who was putting out an imitation brand. The evidence was complete. The label on the bogus product was a perfect counterfeit. The Japanese judge weighed the matter carefully and then rendered his decision. The Japanese whisky was so vile, he decided, such a poor imitation of the genuine article that no one would be deceived and so the suit of the plaintiff was dismissed and the manufacturer left free to continue selling his imitation product.
The deserting` sailor who wasn’t Shanghaied into a berth on some ship stayed on in Shanghai. He could live quite comfortably on the odd change he might pick up from the charitable or the few dollars he might earn by carrying a small parcel of opium past Chinese guards or acting as watchman at a Chinese gambling establishment.
We found beachcombers of other nationalities picturesque and interesting but the presence of unkempt and drunken Americans was very painful to our national pride. Until shortly after the turn of the century there was an un-written rule that they must be picked up off the streets and sent away somewhere. It didn’t matter much where he was sent, so long as he was not around Shanghai and bringing the name of Americans into disrepute. Americans in the other ports seemed to think the same way about the presence of ragamuffin fellow nationals, for the vagabonds we shipped to Manila or to Japan soon came back. For years a number of Americans who had a constitutional aversion to work had a pretty easy time of it, enjoying leisurely trips from one Far Eastern port to another. We finally had to adopt the very expensive policy of shipping them all the way to America and though some came back it took them a long time to save enough money for the fare.
The British did the same thing, though they drew the line on British half-castes and in general were much more practical and hard-boiled about it than we were. A few of the more accomplished among these sea tramps were able to simulate both a British and an American accent and were especially favored beneficiaries of concern for national pride. With uncanny accuracy they knew whether to appeal for a quarter or a shilling, whether to be in urgent need of a cup of coffee or be “perishing for a spot of tea.” That was during the period when the prestige of the white man was high - or we thought it was. After the first World War we had such an influx of foreigners of all sorts, all of whom were
in need of a bath and a shave and a cup of coffee, that we gave up trying to take care of all of them, and the prestige of the white man had to rock along as best it could. The only Americans we sent home were those who through old age, or illness, or lack of native ability were unable to panhandle a living. Indeed the few years following the close of the first World War brought such an influx of destitute foreigners of many nationalities that relief agencies broke down along with the prestige of the white man.
The beachcomber is in the lower brackets of the social scale but even he has his rank and prestige to consider. Eddie Nelson and I were listening one afternoon to the story of one of our beachcomber friends who was telling about his exploits at smuggling and gunrunning. It was a good story and I was enjoying it very much, but I stupidly interrupted it by asking him about his experiences in “running dope,” which is the vernacular for what is known in more polite circles as “the narcotic traffic.” Our gunrunning friend was so indignant at the suggestion that he could be connected with anything so vile, that we couldn’t get him back to his original story and never did find out what happened to the machine guns he was taking to Borneo. His idea about a dope runner, or anyone else connected with the narcotic traffic, was that they were murderers and should be executed immediately on conviction, in which I thoroughly agree with him.
British hospitality went so far as to provide accommodations for American prisoners. We had no jail and so they served their terms in the British gaol in Shanghai. This arrangement continued for some time until a retiring American consul went home without settling for the board and lodging of the American prisoners, and his successor disclaimed all responsibility in the matter. As a matter of fact Congress had neglected to provide any funds for expenses of this nature. It looked for a time as if American malefactors would have to be put in Chinese jails and then a public-spirited American came to the rescue and warded off this blow to national prestige. He built a jail at his own expense and allowed the consular authorities to use it at a nominal rental. It was not until several generations later that Americans built their own churches, schools and clubs.
