Chapter 133: The Dutch Telescope

Zhang Dai’s family had a rich collection of books, and with such a family atmosphere, he himself was knowledgeable and well-versed in many subjects. He was familiar with the classics, history, and the works of various schools of thought, and he had delved into astronomy and geography. Although he never achieved official rank, he was dedicated to writing. He wrote tirelessly throughout his life, leaving behind many works, the most famous of which were “Dream Memories of Tao’an” and “The Night-Mooring Boat,” which these men had all read.

Besides his extensive knowledge, he was also a dandy who was an expert in enjoyment. He described himself in his writings: “In my youth, I was a dandy, extremely fond of luxury. I loved fine houses, beautiful maids, handsome boys, fine clothes, delicious food, swift horses, magnificent lanterns, fireworks, opera, music, antiques, flowers, and birds. I was also addicted to tea and obsessed with oranges, a bookworm and a poetry demon.” He embodied both the extravagant and indulgent habits of a dandy and the decadent and worldly style of a late Ming scholar.

Such a person was of little value to the Yuanen Senate, but to the Foreign Intelligence Bureau, he was an important figure.

Zhang Dai was not only a prolific writer, a learned scholar, and a man who knew how to enjoy life, but he was also a member of the Fu She (Revival Society), which had a powerful influence on the political situation in the late Ming Dynasty. Although he was not a politically active person, he participated in many of the Fu She’s activities and was on good terms with many of its key members. Of course, Zhao Yingong thought, such a person would be welcomed everywhere.

The Jiangnan region was the Fu She’s home base, and its local power was extremely strong. The Fu She not only controlled the “public opinion” of the Jiangnan gentry but also, to some extent, influenced the administration of local officials. Many local officials were themselves members of the Fu She or the Donglin Party. For Zhao Yingong to operate in the Jiangnan region, gaining the support or at least the tacit approval of the Fu She was a crucial step.

Zhang Dai was a “dandy with deep cultural attainments.” Clearly, Lin’gao’s “curious and ingenious contraptions” would be able to impress him more quickly. Zhao Yingong’s eager gaze immediately focused on the multi-story boat ahead.

“What’s that place up ahead?” he asked. “Why is Master Zhang’s boat in such a hurry?”

Cai Shi said, “Replying to Master, the dragon boats are out. Everyone is rushing to see them.”

Zhao Yingong nodded. “Follow them. We’ll go see the dragon boat races too.”

In other places, dragon boat races were mostly held on the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, the Dragon Boat Festival. However, in Hangzhou’s West Lake, dragon boat races had been held twice a year since the Song Dynasty. Besides the one on the Dragon Boat Festival, there was another on the eighth day of the second lunar month, said to be in honor of Wu Zixu, while others said it was for the birthday of the True Lord Zhang of Cishan.

The second dragon boat race on West Lake began on the first of the fifth month and continued until the tenth. Scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants from both inside and outside the city, as long as their families were not starving, would all come to watch the excitement.

Hearing the guest’s command, the boatmen quickly poled and rowed, heading towards the Mid-Lake Pavilion where the dragon boats were.

On the lake near the Mid-Lake Pavilion, many boats of all sizes had already gathered. Besides various painted boats and pleasure boats, there were also large “spectator boats” for the common people to watch the races and enjoy themselves. The boats were almost bow to stern, and the scene was very lively.

Zhao Yingong was still looking for Zhang Dai’s boat when the sound of gongs and cymbals, “dong-dong-qiang! dong-dong-qiang!”, rang out. Five dragon boats, cutting through the waves, appeared on the lake. These dragon boats were all fitted with exquisitely carved dragon heads and tails, each one with its head held high and its scales gleaming. Each boat was four to five zhang long. Unlike the canoe-like dragon boats the Yuanen had seen in another time, these were much larger. The middle cabin had two levels. In the front was a child dressed as a “dragon head prince” and a swing set, on which another child was tumbling back and forth, performing various tricks. Beside it was a weapons rack with the eighteen weapons of war—swords, spears, halberds—all neatly arranged, along with various flags. In the middle were five colorful parasols of different heights, and at the stern was a centipede flag. The lower level housed the musicians, who were constantly beating gongs and drums. Twenty strong men, tightly and impressively dressed, sat in two rows on either side of the long, narrow cabin. Each man held a large paddle, and in time with their boat’s gongs and drums, they rose and fell in unison, propelling the boat like a runaway horse, like an arrow from a bow. The eight- or nine-year-old child on the swing set continuously performed various dangerous stunts as the dragon boat sped forward, causing the onlookers to sigh in admiration and break out in a cold sweat for them.

Although it was called a “dragon boat race,” it was not a formal race with a start and finish line like in the old world. The dragon boats would sometimes chase each other and sometimes follow one another in a single file. Some idle people would throw money and trinkets into the water, and the sailors on the dragon boats would leap into the water to retrieve them. The sailor who retrieved them the fastest and entered the water with the most beautiful and graceful posture would often elicit a round of applause, and of course, more money and trinkets would be thrown.

On the pleasure boats, there was music, singing, and the playing of “ten variations.” It was like a brocade of flowers, like oil on a blazing fire. Even the Yuanen, who were used to grand scenes, were moved by such a prosperous and magnificent sight.

If one were to judge by this scene alone, where were the signs of the Ming Dynasty’s impending doom? It was practically an unprecedented “golden age.”

As Zhao Yingong was marveling at the scene, a wet head suddenly emerged from the water, holding a long, glittering yellow object. In the sunlight, it reflected a brilliant flash of light.

The Yuanen on the terrace were all startled—it was the reflection of glass! Xu Ke became tense.

“Old Zhao! What is that?”

Zhao Yingong didn’t speak. He immediately instructed Cai Shi to get that thing.

Cai Shi immediately went to the bow to make arrangements. After a few words, he ran back, panting.

“Master! He wants one qian of silver for a copper tube of unknown use—it’s a complete rip-off…”

Zhao Yingong cut him off. “Give it to him and bring me the thing!”

Cai Shi hurried off again and returned a moment later with the “copper tube” on a tray. Zhao Yingong snatched it, extended it, and looked through it. That’s right, it was a single-barreled telescope.

The finely crafted two-section brass body and the hand-ground glass lenses indicated that this was a Dutch-made telescope, which had only recently been invented in this time. Even in Europe, this thing was quite rare. The Foreign Intelligence Bureau knew that Tang Yunwen had one, and a few officials and wealthy families in Guangdong also had them. Besides the Ming generals, most people treated it as a rare Western toy.

He never expected to find such a telescope in Hangzhou! Of course, there was a Catholic church in Hangzhou, and it was possible that the missionaries had given such “curious and ingenious contraptions” as gifts to local gentry and officials to gain their favor, just as Matteo Ricci had done in Guangdong and Beijing.

Xu Ke took it and looked at it. “The magnification is not great, at most 1-2x.”

“This is a Galilean telescope,” Zhou Dongtian said. “A simple little gadget.”

The Galilean telescope was the earliest type of telescope, with a simple principle and easy to manufacture. However, its magnification was very limited, and it had a series of problems such as distortion. Later, it was mainly used as a children’s telescope and an opera glass.

But in this time, this thing was a very useful military instrument. Who could possibly own such an extremely rare Western item? And why would they throw it into the water?

This rare Western item could not be simply measured in terms of money. When Zhao Yingong was “interning” in Guangzhou, he had seen Dutch telescopes imported from Europe. They were priced at thirty to forty taels of silver. The telescope was only regarded as a “toy” by the people of that time, and the market demand was extremely small. Because of the small demand, unlike glassware, Western cloth, spices, and ivory, which arrived frequently, only ten or twenty would be imported every year or two. It was extremely rare. The owner would never easily throw it into West Lake for fun.

Zhou Dongtian examined it again and said, “It seems to have been in the lake for a while, not just recently thrown in.”

The tube was full of water, and there were traces of mud and aquatic plants, which clearly could not have been caused by being at the bottom of the lake for a moment. It had probably been dropped a few days ago and was accidentally fished out by the sailors on the dragon boat today.

Zhou Dongtian suddenly asked, “Old Zhao, what do you think this is? It looks like writing.”

Zhao Yingong took it and examined it carefully. The characters were very finely engraved on the tube. If one didn’t look carefully against the light, they were almost invisible.

“A self-made instrument of the Fool of Longmian.”

The characters were all in small seal script. If Zhao Yingong hadn’t practiced calligraphy diligently in the training class, these few characters would have been gibberish to him. He thought for a moment. “The Fool of Longmian” should be someone’s hao (courtesy name). From the fact that he had specially engraved his name on the tube, it was clear that he treasured this telescope very much. It was definitely not thrown into the lake for fun; it was most likely dropped by accident.

Zhao Yingong smiled and said, “It’s a pity we don’t know who this Fool of Longmian is. But I can deduce what kind of person he is.”

Xu Ke and Zhou Dongtian both smiled. “I didn’t know you were a great detective. We’d like to hear your reasoning.”

Zhao Yingong deduced: this person was a well-to-do Confucian scholar—an ordinary person would not spend a lot of money on such a rare item with no practical use. Without a certain level of cultural attainment, one would not engrave small seal script on a telescope. This person had a strong interest in new things, otherwise he would not have bought an obscure foreign item. The telescope was lost at the bottom of the lake, which means he had been to West Lake a few days ago and watched the dragon boats. He should have some contact with the Catholic church in Hangzhou or the Christian Confucian scholars; the telescope was very likely obtained from them.

“…Finally, I estimate that he is not old, most likely a young man.”

“That’s not necessarily true. Although young people are the main ones who like new things, Sun Yuanhua and Xu Guangqi were middle-aged when they came into contact with Catholicism and Western science, and they weren’t seen as pedantic.” Xu Ke said.

Zhao Yingong said, “I think young people are more willing to show off their new gadgets. You see, it’s mostly teenagers who wave their iPhones around. People over thirty, even if they buy an iPhone, are not likely to hold it in their hands all day. So I feel this person is at most thirty years old.”