Islands and mainland rising in green hills from the
water's edge hemmed in the narrow channel. In
about two and a half hours we sighted Macao.
We saw ahead of us a low eminence covered with
the buildings of a European-looking town. Behind
it rose a range of bleak mountains. We passed
along by a gently curving bay lined with houses
and fringed with trees, rounded a cape, and entered
the natural harbour which lies between low hills.
It was crowded with junks and sampans. In the
middle lay a trim Portuguese gunboat, the Zaire,
three-masted, with white superstructure and funnel
and black hull. The small Canton-Macao steamer
was moored to the wharf.
The quay was lined with Chinese houses, twoor three - storied, with arched verandahs.
The
Heungshan ran alongside, the hawsers were made
fast, and gangways run ashore. The Chinese passengers, carrying their baggage, trooped on to the
wharf. One of them in his hurry knocked roughly
against a Portuguese Customs officer who caught
him by the pigtail and boxed his ears in reward
for his awkwardness. It was a refreshing sight
after the pampered and petted way in which the
Chinaman is treated by the authorities in Hong
Kong. There the lowest coolie can be as impertinent as he likes to Europeans, for he knows
that the white man who ventures to chastise him
for his insolence will be promptly summoned to
appear before a magistrate and fined. Our treat-ment of the subject races throughout our Empire
errs chiefly in its lack of common justice to the
European.
Seated in a ricksha, pulled and pushed by two
coolies up steep streets, I was finally deposited at
the door of the Boa Vista Hotel.
This excellent
hostelry—which the French endeavoured to secure
for a naval hospital, and which has since been
purchased by the Portuguese Government —was
picturesquely situated on a low hill overlooking the
town. The ground on one side fell sharply down
to thfe sea which lapped the rugged rocks and
sandy beach two or three hundred feet below. On
the other, from the foot of the hill, a pretty bay with
a tree-shaded esplanade—called the Praia Grande —stretched away to a high cape about a mile
distant.
The bay was bordered by a line of houses,
prominent among which was the Governor's Palace.
Behind them the city, built on rising ground, rose
in terraces. The buildings were all of the Southern
European type, with tiled roofs, Venetian-shuttered
windows, and walls painted pink, white, blue, or
yellow. Away in the heart of the town the gaunt,
shattered fagade of a ruined church stood on
a slight eminence. Here and there small hills crowned with the crumbling walls of ancient forts rose up around the city.
Eager for a closer acquaintance with Macao, I drove out that afternoon in a ricksha. I was
whirled first along the Praia Grande, which runs around the curving bay below the hotel. On the
right-hand side lay a strongly built sea-wall. On
the tree-shaded promenade between it and the roadway groups of the inhabitants of the city were
enjoying the cool evening breeze. Sturdy litde
Portuguese soldiers in dark-blue uniforms and kdpis
strolled along in two and threes, ogling the yellow
or dark-featured Macaese ladies, a few of whom
wore mantillas. Half-caste youths, resplendent in
loud check suits and immaculate collars and cuffs,
sat on the sea-wall or, airily puffing their cheap
cigarettes, sauntered along the promenade with
languid grace. Grave citizens walked with their
families, the prettier portion of whom affected to be
demurely unconscious of the admiring looks of the
aforesaid dandies. A couple of priests in shovel
hats and long, black cassocks moved along in the
throng.
The left side of the Praia was lined with houses,
among which were some fine buildings, including
the Government, Post and Telegraph Bureaus,
commercial offices, private residences, and a large
mansion, with two projecting wings, the Governor's
Palace. At the entrance stood a sentry, while the
rest of the guard lounged near the doorway. At
the end of the Praia Grande were the pretty public
gardens, shaded by banyan trees, with flower-beds, a bandstand, and a large building beyond it—the
Military Club.
Past the gate of the Gardens the
road turned away from the sea and ran between rows of Chinese houses until it reached the long,
tree-bordered Estrada da Flora. On the left lay
cultivated land. On the right the ground sloped
gently back to a blufif hill, on which stood a lighthouse, the oldest in China. At the foot of this
eminence lay the pretty summer residence of the
Governor, picturesquely named Flora, surrounded
by gardens and fenced in by a granite wall. Continuing under the name of Estrada da Bella Vista,
the road ran on to the sea and turned to the left around a flower-bordered, terraced green mound,
at the summit of which was a look-out whence a
charming view was obtained. From this the mound
derives the name of Bella Vista. In front lay a
shallow bay.
To the left the shore curved round
to a long, low, sandy causeway, which connects
Macao with the island of Heung Shan. Midway
on this stood a masonry gateway. Porta Cerco,
which marks the boundary between Portuguese and
Chinese territory. Hemmed in by a sea-wall, the
road continued from Bella Vista along above the
beach, past the isthmus, on which was a branch
road leading to the Porta, by a stretch of cultivated
ground, and round the peninsula, until it reached
the city again.
After dinner that evening, accompanied by a
friend staying at the same hotel, I strolled down
to the Public Gardens, where the police band was
playing and the "beauty and fashion" of Macao
assembled. They were crowded with gay promenaders. Trim Portuguese naval or military
officers, brightly dressed ladies, soldiers, civilians,
priests and laity strolled up and down the walks or
sat on the benches. Sallow-complexioned children
chased each other round the flower-beds. Opposite
the bandstand stood a line of chairs reserved for
the Governor and his party.
We met some acquaintances among the few British residents in
the colony ; and one of them, being an honorary
member of the Military Club situated at one end
of the Gardens, invited us into it. We sat at one
of the little tables on the terrace, where the dlite of
Macao drank their coffee and liqueurs, and watched
the gay groups promenading below. The scene was animated and interesting, thoroughly typical of
the way in which Continental nations enjoy outdoor
life, as the English never can. Hong Kong, with
all its wealth and large European population, has
no similar social gathering-place; and its citizens
wrap themselves in truly British unneighbourly
isolation.
The government of Macao is administered from
Portugal. The Governor is appointed from Europe;
and the local Senate is vested solely with the municipal administration of the colony. The garrison
consists of Portuguese artillerymen to man the forts
and a regiment of Infantry of the Line, relieved
regularly from Europe. There is also a battalion
of police, supplemented by Indian and Chinese
constables—the former recruited among the natives of the Portuguese territory of Goa on the Bombay
coast, though many of the sepoys hail from British
India.
A gunboat is generally stationed in the
harbour. The troubles all over China in 1900 had
a disturbing influence even in this isolated Portuguese colony. An attack from Canton was feared
in Macao as well as in Hong Kong; and the utmost
vigilance was observed by the garrison. One night
heavy firing was heard from the direction of the
Porta Cerco, the barrier on the isthmus. It was
thought that the Chinese were at last descending on the settlement. The alarm sounded and the
troops were called out. Sailors were landed from
the Zaire with machine-guns.
A British resident
in Macao told me that so prompt were the garrison
in turning out that in twenty minutes all were at
their posts and every position for defence occupied.
At each street-corner stood a strong guard; and
machine-guns were placed so as to prevent any
attempt on the part of the Chinese in the city to
aid their fellow-countrymen outside. However, it was found that the alarm was occasioned by the
villagers who lived just outside the boundary, firing on the guards at the barrier in revenge for the continual insults to which their women, when passing
in and out to market in Macao, were subjected by
the Portuguese soldiers at the gate. No attack
followed and the incident had no further consequences. At the close of 1901 or the beginning of
1902, more serious alarm was caused by the conduct of the regiment recently arrived from Portugal
in relief. Dissatisfied with their pay or at service
in the East, the men mutinied and threatened to seize the town. The situation was difficult, as they
formed the major portion of the garrison. Eventually, however, the artillerymen, the police battalion,
and the sailors from the Zaire succeeded in over-awing and disarming them. The ringleaders were
seized and punished, and that incident closed.
The European-born Portuguese in the colony are few and consist chiefly of the Government officials and their families and the troops. They look down
upon the Macaese—as the colonials are called
—
with the supreme contempt of the pure-blooded
white man for the half-caste. For, judging from
their complexions and features, few of the Macanese
are of unmixed descent. So the Portuguese from
Europe keep rigidly aloof from them and unbend
only to the few British and Americans resident in
the colony.
