From the ship-yard we proceeded to the garden, which was very large but greatly neglected.  There were neither alleys nor fruit trees, rocks nor figures; but, to make up for these, an insufferable quantity of summer-houses, bridges, galleries, little temples, and pagodas.

The dwelling-house consisted of a large hall and a number of small chambers.  The walls were ornamented, both inside and out, with carved wood-work, and the roof abundantly decorated with points and pinnacles.

In the large halls plays and other entertainments are sometimes enacted for the amusement of the ladies, who are universally confined to their houses and gardens, which can only be visited by strangers in their absence. {112}

A number of peacocks, silver-pheasants, mandarin-ducks, and deer are preserved in their gardens.  In one corner was a small, gloomy bamboo plantation, in which were some family graves; and not far off a small earthen mound had been raised, with a wooden tablet, on which was a long poetical inscription in honour of the favourite snake of the mandarin, which was buried there.

After duly inspecting everything, we set off on our road home, and reached there in safety.

I was not so fortunate a few days later on visiting a tea-factory.  The proprietor conducted me himself over the workshops, which consisted of large halls, in which six hundred people, including a great many old women and children, were at work.  My entrance occasioned a perfect revolt.  Old and young rose from work, the elder portion lifting up the younger members of the community in their arms and pointing at me with their fingers.  The whole mass then pressed close upon me and raised so horrible a cry that I began to be alarmed.  The proprietor and his overseer had a difficult task to keep off the crowd, and begged me to content myself with a hasty glance at the different objects, and then to quit the building as soon as possible.

In consequence of this I could only manage to observe that the leaves of the plant are thrown for a few seconds into boiling water, and then placed in flat iron pans, fixed slantingly in stone-work, where they are slightly roasted by a gentle heat, during which process they are continually stirred by hand.  As soon as they begin to curl a little, they are thrown upon large planks, and each single leaf is rolled together.  This is effected with such rapidity, that it requires a person’s undivided attention to perceive that no more than one leaf is rolled up at a time.  After this, all the leaves are placed once more in the pan.  Black tea takes some time to roast, and the green is frequently coloured with Prussian blue, an exceedingly small quantity of which is added during the second roasting.  Last of all the tea is once more shaken out upon the large boards, in order that it may be carefully inspected, and the leaves that are not entirely closed are rolled over again.