An Australian in China

In Short

This travelogue records the remarkable journey of George Ernest Morrison, an Australian doctor who walks and sails across China from Hankow to Burma in 1894. Armed with little more than a cane, a few words of Chinese, and a light purse, Morrison traverses inland provinces including Szechuen and Yunnan. He chronicles the day-to-day realities of provincial life: the treacherous rapids of the Yangtse, the operation of native post offices and banks, the stark poverty and systemic infanticide, the pervasive presence of opium, and the practical workings of Christian missions. It survives as a vivid, refreshingly candid portrait of Qing-dynasty China.

The Story

Morrison sets out from the river port of Hankow with the intention of crossing the Chinese interior to reach British Burma. Beginning his journey along the Yangtse River, he travels by boat through its perilous gorges and roaring rapids. Guided by local boatmen whose nerve and navigational precision under extreme danger win his lasting admiration, he safely negotiates treacherous stretches like the Yehtan rapid before reaching the inland commercial hubs of Wanhsien and Chungking.

Leaving the river behind at Suifu, Morrison trades water transport for overland foot travel along narrow, paved stone causeways that wind through the mountains and terraced agricultural fields of Szechuen and Yunnan. Travelling quietly with a small troupe of hired Chinese porters and local guides, he depends entirely on native hospitality, staying in local inns and dining on regional fare. His route carries him through remote districts struggling against famine, where he observes crumbling mud-walled towns such as Tak-wan-hsien and witnesses the harsh toll of poverty in Chaotong, where unburied dead line open pits and discarded children are left to the elements.

Throughout his passage across Yunnan, Morrison encounters a landscape deeply marked by endemics and social ills. He notes the widespread occurrence of severe goitre and cretinism among mountain villagers, the universal cultivation of the opium poppy on every arable hillside, and the routine use of opium by the local police and soldiers assigned to protect him. Along the way, he stops at French and Protestant mission stations, offering an unsentimental assessment of their real influence, their modest success in securing genuine converts, and the luxurious isolation of certain foreign outposts compared to the squalor surrounding them.

As he approaches the borderlands near Talifu and Tengyueh, Morrison observes the complex ethnic tapestry of the frontier, encountering Shan soldiers, Kachin tribesmen, and exiled outlaws sheltered in the border mountains. Navigating local administrative hurdles, official bureaucracy, and occasional native curiosity, he relies on his cool demeanor and the practical protection of Chinese customary law. Crossing the final mountain barriers into Upper Burma, he reaches Bhamo, completing an extraordinary cross-continental trek across the heart of the Middle Kingdom and bringing his journey to a peaceful close along the Irrawaddy.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins Starting from Hankow, Morrison travels up the Yangtse River by boat, marveling at the incredible dexterity of his Chinese boatmen as they steer their fragile vessel through the hazardous cataracts and roaring gorges of the upper river.

Overland through Szechuen Disembarking at Suifu, he hires a small team of native porters—including a reliable mission convert—to carry his luggage along narrow flagstone paths through rich, terraced agricultural landscapes dotted with ancient memorial arches and banyan trees.

Witnessing frontier hardship Ascending into the impoverished mountain districts of Yunnan, Morrison passes through decaying towns like Tak-wan-hsien and Chaotong, where he encounters grim scenes of famine, open burial pits, and systemic cruelty born of extreme economic distress.

Observations in the provincial capitals In Yunnan City and Talifu, he examines the inner workings of Chinese administration, noting the surprising efficiency of native banking and postal networks alongside the pervasive influence of opium smoking among local mandarins and police.

Reaching the Burmese frontier Passing through Tengyueh and the Shan borderlands, Morrison observes frontier garrisons, encounters local hill tribes, and safely navigates the final mountain stages under the guard of native escorts armed with rusty muzzle-loaders.

Arrival in Bhamo The long journey concludes as Morrison crosses out of Chinese territory into Upper Burma, arriving at the river town of Bhamo where he reflects critically on foreign missionary efforts before taking steamship transport down the Irrawaddy.

The People

George Ernest Morrison The author and narrator, an Australian medical doctor who seeks to cross China to Burma with minimal equipment and no military escort. He wants to experience the reality of interior China firsthand without foreign privilege, relying on native transport, local inns, and common sense. Confronted by immense physical hardship, disease, and bureaucratic absurdities, he remains rational, observant, and largely sympathetic to the common people he meets.

The Boatmen (Laoban and Boys) The crew hired to navigate the treacherous Yangtse rapids above Kueichow. They want to deliver their passengers and cargo safely across dangerous cataracts to earn their living. Facing imminent shipwreck at every turn, their cool daring and precise judgment save Morrison's life, earning his deep respect for their remarkable skill under pressure.

Laohwan A headman hired in Chaotong to lead Morrison's overland porters to Tongchuan. Recently married to a new wife, he wants to escape domestic life and travel as far away as possible to Burma. He serves as an energetic, active guide during the five-day mountain trek.

Monseigneur Fenouil The venerable French Vicaire Apostolique in Yunnan City, who has resided in the interior of China since 1847. Having survived the horrors of the Mohammedan insurrection, he wants to maintain the Catholic mission's presence and minister to thousands of local converts, thinking and speaking in pure Chinese after decades in the region.

In Its Own Voice

"Standing on the stern, managing the sheet and tiller, and with his bamboo pole ready, the laoban yelled and stamped in his excitement; there was the roar of the cataract below us, towards which we were fast edging stern on, destruction again threatened us and all seemed over, when in that moment we entered the back-wash and were again in good shelter."

Morrison describes the terrifying, split-second maneuvers required of his native crew while navigating the dangerous rapids of the Yangtse River.

"In this law-abiding country the peasantry conspicuously follow the Confucian maxim taught in China four hundred years before Christ, 'Do not unto others what you would not have others do unto you.'"

Walking along the narrow paved causeways of Szechuen, Morrison reflects on the orderly conduct of rural farm communities living without fences or land disputes.

"I have never been accompanied by either a chairen or a soldier who did not smoke opium, nor have I to my knowledge ever met a chairen or a soldier who was not an opium-smoker."

Observing the local escorts provided by regional magistrates, Morrison dryly highlights the gaping divide between official Imperial anti-opium decrees and the daily reality on the ground.

What It's Really About

Beneath its simple travel narrative, the book explores the vast disparity between Western perceptions of China and its internal social reality. Morrison continually contrasts the efficiency of native institutions—such as its reliable postal systems, sophisticated banking networks, and law-abiding peasantry—with the rampant corruption of its officials and the hypocrisy of foreign commentary. He examines the root causes of Chinese poverty, highlighting how economic desperation drives practices like infanticide and child selling, while dryly critiquing Western institutions like Chicago municipal politics or Christian mission boards that claim moral superiority over a civilization far older and more complex than their own.

Why Read It Today

Morrison's narrative remains an exceptionally lively, historically sharp travelogue that captures late Qing-dynasty China from the ground level. Readers who appreciate historical exploration, social commentary, and unpretentious prose will find his voice remarkably modern, free from the bloated melodrama or patronizing imperial posture common to nineteenth-century travel writing.

The book does present challenges typical of its era: unvarnished descriptions of severe physical suffering, open burial grounds, stark poverty, and the occasional use of period terminology regarding native populations. Furthermore, Morrison's clinical, medical eye leaves little out when documenting graphic diseases like goitre or administrative cruelties like prison starvation cages. Yet these elements are balanced by his genuine warmth toward the ordinary porters, boatmen, and villagers who assist him along the way. His account provides a grounded, visually rich record of everyday life across inland Szechuen and Yunnan, offering readers an authentic window into a vanished world before the turn of the twentieth century.