The Gateway to a Changing China
As our steamer approached Shanghai from the Wusong estuary, the first sight that greeted us was a forest of Western smokestacks piercing the misty horizon. The entire city seemed shrouded in a delicate haze, its contours blurred like an unfinished watercolor. Our vessel docked in a segregated area reserved exclusively for Western ships and personnel – a physical manifestation of the unequal treaties that had transformed this fishing village into a global port.
The year was likely the late 1870s or early 1880s, when Shanghai’s International Settlement and French Concession had already established their distinctive hybrid character. What unfolded before our eyes was a city of jarring contrasts – six-foot-wide paved streets thronged with humanity, where golden shop signs competed for attention with traditional temple roofs. This was the Shanghai of the Tongzhi and early Guangxu eras, where Chinese merchants adapted to foreign presence while Western powers carved out their spheres of influence.
Between Temples and Courtrooms: Shanghai’s Dual Justice System
Our exploration began at a local temple, where our guide – speaking what he proudly called “Canton English” – explained the hierarchy of deities. The chief god occupied the central altar, visible from the street, while lesser deities required closer inspection. We participated in the ritual burning of silver paper, observing how folk religion persisted amid rapid modernization.
The true revelation came through Mr. Wilkinson, special advisor to the Mixed Court. This unique judicial body, established in 1864, embodied Shanghai’s colonial reality – cases were heard jointly by a Qing official and Western consular representative. The courtroom drama we witnessed could have been lifted from a Dickens novel: defendants dragged in by their queues (some cleverly embedding fish bones to thwart their captors), and a striking case of medical malpractice involving a traditional doctor who allegedly prescribed enough poison “to kill ten men.” The court banned him from practicing in the Settlement, though the exotic ingredients in his remedy (including monkey’s nails at 120 silver dollars per dose) for what was simply measles highlighted cultural divides in medical understanding.
The presiding mandarin, distinguished by his red-buttoned hat, later demonstrated various instruments of punishment – bamboo rods for floggings, wooden cangues for public humiliation, and special leather slippers for slapping female offenders. His invitation to witness executions that afternoon was politely declined.
A Wedding Across Cultures: East Meets West in the Home
Our most memorable encounter occurred on Bubbling Well Road (modern Nanjing West Road), where we stumbled upon a remarkable household preparing for a wedding. The residence belonged to a Chinese noblewoman who introduced herself as a relative of the late Li Hongzhang and wife of an Englishman. Her flawless English and hybrid cultural identity represented Shanghai’s emerging cosmopolitan elite.
The wedding preparations revealed fascinating syncretism:
– Two identical square tables for bride and groom, draped in embroidered cloth
– Silver tableware including three pairs of chopsticks (coral, ivory, and pure silver)
– A Western-style bedroom featuring a traditional Chinese canopy bed
– An opium couch discreetly placed in the private quarters
The noblewoman (whom we came to call Mrs. Canning) explained the three-day wedding rituals, where the bride would change increasingly elaborate outfits while maintaining complete silence. When we met the couple later, the contrasts were striking: the groom, a portly Qing official with cataract and scarred neck, spoke excellent English and wore hybrid attire (Manchu court robes with Western-style red sashes). His bride, hidden beneath pearl veils and bound feet, embodied traditional feminine ideals.
Nightlife in the International Settlement: From Opium Dens to Theaters
Our nocturnal explorations revealed Shanghai’s vibrant entertainment scene. Along Foochow Road (modern Fuzhou Road), we observed:
– High-end opium dens where patrons reclined on couches, preparing pellets with specialized tools
– Theatres where cross-dressing male performers enacted dramas to raucous audiences
– Tea houses with rooftop terraces overlooking lantern-lit streets
– A famous actress traveling in a palanquin, her bound feet momentarily visible
The gender segregation in theaters particularly intrigued us – men occupied ground floors while ladies watched from balconies. The “ticket” system, where patrons’ names were recorded for later billing, demonstrated sophisticated commercial practices. Performances blended acrobatics, music, and stylized drama, with all-female troupes (actually male actors) earning substantial sums.
Dining and Death: Culinary Customs and Funeral Rites
At a premium Chinese restaurant (20 silver dollars per person – a substantial sum), we experienced:
– Multiple courses served simultaneously in shallow dishes
– Communal eating with chopsticks and individual rice bowls
– Drinking games reminiscent of ancient Roman customs
– The cultural significance of tea over cold water or milk
Our most poignant encounter came unexpectedly when we recognized Mrs. Canning in full Western mourning attire. Her British husband had died of diphtheria just three days after the wedding we witnessed. This personal tragedy led to reflections on Chinese funeral customs we’d observed:
– Elaborate paper effigies (including mechanized horses) to accompany souls
– Professional mourners with white head coverings
– Theatrical processions featuring velvet-draped coffins
– Burning rituals to facilitate passage to the afterlife
The Legacy of Colonial Encounters
Shanghai in this period stood at the crossroads of empires. Our observations reveal:
1. The resilience of Chinese traditions amid foreign influence
2. The emergence of hybrid cultural forms (like the Mixed Court)
3. The commodification of culture in entertainment districts
4. The human costs of imperial encounters (embodied by Mrs. Canning’s tragedy)
The city’s contradictions – its opium dens and modern courts, its bound feet and English-speaking elites – made it a microcosm of China’s turbulent journey toward modernity. These Victorian-era observations preserve a vanished world whose echoes still resonate in Shanghai’s cosmopolitan identity today.