The Closing Events of the Campaign in China

The Operations in the Yang-Tze-Kiang; and Treaty of Nanking

Granville G. Loch

• Publisher: Left of Brain Books
• Year: 2021
• ISBN:
  9781396319921
• Topic: History
• Subtopic: Chinese History
• Index: History

The Opium Wars happened in the 19th century and like the world wars, they came in two parts; the first happened between China and Great Britain and the second pitted Britain and France against China. The USA may not have fought in the war, but they were certainly part of the action. Seems strange that these great countries would be fighting over a narcotic drug, but the Opium war was so much more than that and Captain Granville Loch has a first account of what happened in the First Opium War, because he fought in it. In this book, he gives a detailed record of all that happened during his time in the war, especially noteworthy moments such as the dismantling of the Woo- Sung Forts, the capturing of Chinkiang Foo, and the signing of the Treaty of Nanking. These moments are of historical importance, not just because of the wars, but because their aftermath eventually led to China becoming a Republic. If you are a student of history or you are fascinated by the Chinese dynasty, or you'd simply like to know why these world powers fought over opium, this is the perfect read.

Chapter I.

Straits of Sunda. — Equatorial Changes. — The Monsoons. — Banca and Sumatra. — The Dugong. — Malay Superstitions. — Singapore. — Population and Trade of the Island. — Chinese Etiquette. — Visit to the Jos-House.

LATE on the evening of the 26th of April, 1842, we rounded Java Head and entered the Straits of Sunda, the great western entrance to the China Sea.

Our passage so far had been prosperous; we sailed from Plymouth Sound on the 23d of January, and anchored in Simon’s Bay on the 21st of March. To our surprise, we there found Lord Saltoun and his troops. They had left England five weeks before us, and we may attribute our good fortune in overtaking them to the light and variable winds they experienced between Rio de Janeiro and the Cape. They sailed the forenoon after our arrival, and four days before us: it remains to be seen whether we have gained stronger and better winds since leaving the Cape by steering a parallel latitude farther south, and continuing it farther to the eastward than the usual track vessels follow, or Horsburgh recommends. Hitherto our daily runs have been particularly good, having accomplished a distance of 5752 miles in 31 days.

Wednesday, 27th of April.—I rose before sunrise to enjoy a sight that is seen to greater advantage in this climate than in any other, and to appreciate fully the satisfactory sensation of a ship sailing in smooth seas after an antarctic passage.

The water was as little disturbed as an inland lake,—only slightly rippled by a six-knot breeze, wafting “the spicy gales of the sweet South” to our up-turned noses. No pack of fox-hounds were ever more anxious to sniff Reynard’s tail than we were to inhale the smell of the land.

For the last few days the winds have been light and variable, and the temperature extremely oppressive; to us particularly so, who only a week before had snow upon our decks.

This is the month of change, the month in which the easterly winds and fair weather are ushered in by lightning and tempests, violent tornadoes, and deluges of rain. After a short period the heavy clouds disappear; the atmosphere expands; the air becomes pure and refreshing; nature revives, and the earth is once more clad with beautiful verdure. In September, nature begins to droop; the strongest are oppressed with languor; clouds assemble in huge masses, which, in October, burst forth in thunder, lightning, and heavy squalls. These squalls frequently ripen into gales; and thus the rainy S. W. monsoon sets in, continuing until the sun is again within the tropic of Cancer.

This is the climate of the islands to the south and upon the equator. The great continent of Asia alters the direction of these winds. The summer monsoon of Java and Sumatra is N. E.; it is N. W. over China and Hindostan; in like manner the S. W. monsoon of the Archipelago is the S. E. of the mainland.

During the day three canoes came off with some unripe fruit, fowls, and paroquets; they were manned by Malays, all ready and anxious to take every advantage in disposing of their commodities. The canoes are scooped from single trees and finished in the rudest manner. It is strange how much the natives of the South Sea Islands excel in neatness and ingenuity these people, who, in some of the useful arts, are their superiors.

We skirted the verdant shores, which were every where beautiful, exhibiting all the rich variety of tropical vegetation;— the teak, owing a borrowed fragrance and bloom to the parasitical plants that clung to it; the gigantic suren, dying within the embrace of a creeper larger than itself; the palm and the valued cocoa nut; the bamboo and the betel nut; the sago palm of Amboyna, and its sister in produce the Sagurus rumpnii; the wax and the cotton tree, and other plants supplying every want to a lazy race; and in the arid spots, we learned, that the pitcher plant, Nepenthes distillatoria, is found, with its beautiful provision for securing and retaining sufficient moisture for its support under an equatorial sun.

The famous upas, or poison tree, also flourishes here, distinguished by its straight and stately stem rising to the height of seventy or eighty feet; too noble a vegetable, one would suppose, to have ever obtained so bad a reputation.

We were also told of that fearful valley within which no living creature can exist; and a story of a poor convict, who, having escaped from Batavia, had, in his anxiety to elude pursuit, overlooked the dangerous vicinity, and perished within its fatal precincts.

At sunset we shaped our course to the north ward. The “Button” and the “Cap” (two small round islands) were far astern, and Batavia, the old queen of the East, where Chinamen pay a tax to wear their pig-tails, far on our starboard quarter.

30th of April.—This morning we sighted the island of Banca, and are now running between its shores and those of Sumatra. Pirates and a colony of Chinese tin miners are, I believe, the only inhabitants of the former island, and have, from long practice and industry, arrived at great proficiency in their separate pursuits. Stretching from north to south, we saw on our left the low coast of Sumatra, covered by a continuous forest to the water’s edge, which affords shelter to a greater variety of savage animals than perhaps exists in any other country. The single and double horned rhinoceros, the elephant, and a tiger whose strength and ferocity are said to be superior to those of the better known native of Bengal, are amongst the largest. Numbers of people are annually carried off by the latter animal; but still the simple natives as frequently endeavour to propitiate them by offerings of fruit and flowers as they do to destroy them by energetic means.

I believe no sea within the tropics contains so large a family of Cetacea as the Eastern Archipelago. Perhaps the most peculiar is the Dugong. Its body is bulky, tapering to a broad horizontal tail; instead of fins, it has two webbed paws, armed with talons; its head in shape is very peculiar, and its mouth is furnished with browsing teeth. Its food consists entirely of herbage, which it crops at the bottom of the sea. In size it varies from ten to twenty feet in length, and the flesh resembles young beef, and is highly appreciated by the Malays. The females are strongly attached to their young, and allow themselves to be taken if their offspring are destroyed. They utter sharp and plaintive cries, and are said to shed tears, which are carefully preserved by these most unsophisticated cut-throats.

The Malays, pre-eminently superstitious, even amongst nations remarkable for such a tendency, have numerous legendary stories of the wonderful qualities of many of this tribe of fish; they have obtained a supernatural connection, in their simple imaginations, with many of the sounds and appearances that arise from natural causes amid the wild and beautiful scenery by which they are surrounded. While gliding in their swift prohas among their romantic islands, now through the bright moonlight, and now within the deep shadows cast by each wood and headland, every faint echo, the flutter of a startled bird, or growl of savage beast, even the fall of a distant paddle on the calm sea, are not unlikely at such a moment to acquire a mysterious import.

6th of May.—For the last few days we have been running between patches of beautiful islands covered with fine trees, literally embedded in dense and luxuriant underwood. Numerous roots of huge aloes and palms, long bamboos and branches, carried out by the currents from the rivers of Sumatra, have been daily drifting past. They will doubtless accumulate, as we have remarked, in these seas; ground in shoal water, and form a deposit around them; and from this nucleus Nature will cause vegetation to extend her territory.

Yesterday we saw for the first time two Malay prohas full of men: I suspect they disliked our appearance as much as a pickpocket does that of a police-officer.

To-day we are in sight of the flag-staff close to Singapore; and if the light air increases, shall hear from old England before nightfall, and also, I trust, a great deal about the Chinese war. A steamer and five or six large ships are in sight, and we are in a state of great expectation; it would not be easy to describe the mingled feelings of anxiety and hope that at such a moment assail a man.

Saturday, 7th of May.—Last night the wind fell, and we were obliged to anchor within a few miles of the port—a most tantalizing occurrence. The transports we saw in the morning had to do the same; so the Captain sent a boat to gain intelligence. These four vessels contain the last of the detachment of 5000 men despatched from India for China. We heard of Lord Auckland’s return; of the Ning-po business, and of the increasing obstinacy of the Chinese; and Keppel learned what justly pleased him much—that the Dido was the first ship out of a batch of five men-of-war that left England five, and some even six, weeks before us.

We anchored in this fine harbour about noon in the centre of a fleet of merchant ships.

On the crest of a round hill topping the town, free from jungle and ornamented with nutmeg and other trees, and covered with a compact green sward, worthy of England, stands the governor’s handsome bungelow. At the hill’s base, on the flat and even ground in front and to the right, extend the houses of our luxurious Eastern merchants—spacious buildings, with fine Roman Doric porticoes, and separated from each other by inclosed gardens. Beyond these appear the humble dwellings of the Chinese colonists skirting the edge of the dense jungle, acres of which are annually cleared, making way for spice plantations, which richly repay the industrious proprietors.

The unvaried luxuriance of vegetation, although very pleasing at first, after some time becomes tiresome. The eye longs for a clear expanse, or the abrupt interruption of a rugged crag. Here there is merely a diversity of gentle hills and shallow dales, all alike clothed with the same thick foliage.

Well-made roads now intersect the island in different directions; and they, indeed, in conjunction with every other improvement, have been planned and executed through the indefatigable exertions of the clever and energetic Governor, Mr. Bonham.

When the British flag was first hoisted by Sir Stamford Raffles in 1819, the population did not exceed 200 souls. In 1820 the numbers had increased to 10,000, principally Chinese; and now the trade (as Lord Jocelyn has correctly stated) is equal to that of Bombay, and the population, consisting of Europeans, Malays, Bengalees, Arabs, Buggis, and others, is nearly 30,000.

Singapore is a free port, which is a pity, for a light harbour due would not prevent vessels from coming to a place of such commercial importance, and would more effectually defray the expenses of the straits, and enable the Governor to prosecute many projected improvements, which, from a paucity of funds, he has been obliged to defer.

At day-dawn, when the sky receives its first bright tints from the rising sun, and the morning mist yet shrouds the marshes and hangs about the damp verdure, the harbour is alive with boats and resounding with the noisy hum of awakened crowds;—the long low canoe of the Malay, propelled by twenty or thirty paddles, each stroke accompanied by their peculiar cry; punts, the undoubted progeny of the mother junks, conveying to the shore the Chinese mariner with his fan and umbrella; the sanpans, with their clean matted seats and plaintain-leaf awnings, waiting for passengers, and promiscuously manned by the Hindoo, the Moor, the Malay or the Arab, the wild native of Borneo or Amboyna, Madura or the more independent and manly inhabitant of Bali; the unwieldy junk herself, with painted eyes, which are presumed to guide it in safety clear of shoals and dangers, its large masts without rigging, mat sail, high-peaked stern (not unlike ours of the fifteenth century) bedaubed with flying dragons, painted devils, and proverbs, and the poop entirely occupied by the indispensable jos, disgorging scores of chattering Chinese; boats laden with fruit of every description, amongst which pineapples predominate, arriving from distant creeks, ready for the morning market; and the light fishing canoe, with its patient occupant, who will sit for hours under the shade of his light grass hat, are amongst the many novelties that attract the attention of the stranger.

I went on shore with Captain Keppel to call upon the Governor. We found him at his office, a large building near the beach; he received his old friend Keppel most heartily. His active duties, he says, have greatly accumulated since the commencement of the Chinese war, and it is lucky for the naval service that there is so excellent a manager to supply their demands.

In the evening we relanded to dine with Mr. Bonham. A palankin drawn by a spirited little Timour poney, not larger than a Shetlander, conveyed us up the ascent at an active trot: the very pretty approach to the house, winding round the east side of the hill and flanked by nutmeg groves interspersed with some fine timber, is kept in very excellent order. White jackets and a punker, open doors and a free current of air, made the temperature delightful.

The house commands a fine view of the town and adjacent country. The former, although built on a marsh and’ surrounded by vegetation, is very healthy, owing to the sea covering the lower ground at every tide, and thus preventing putrefaction, which would inevitably ensue from the great heat, if the water was not so regularly renewed.

I was glad to hear that the war has not destroyed the confidence of the Chinese traders, and that the same number of junks continue to arrive, and as richly laden as before. When it is considered how defenceless these valuable vessels are, and that they are generally sailing within sight of numerous little islands separated by winding channels, yet unsurveyed, and containing creeks and harbours unknown to and screened from the passing vessel, it is surprising that so few acts of plunder are committed by the Malays, many tribes of whom regard these seas theirs by right of prior possession, and a black mail exacted in their way as lawful taxation. Such exactions they do not consider piracy, nor do they regard them otherwise than did our old borderers their frequent forays. We may hear eventually of some flower of Battan, like the one of Yarrow, displaying a crease instead of spurs on an empty dish.

Alligators abound in every inlet; tigers in the jungle. It was only the other day that one of the former capsized a canoe with its tail, and devoured the proprietor; and about the same time an Indian was carried away by one of the latter while walking on the road close to the town. I was informed on good authority that upwards of forty persons are annually destroyed by these savage beasts, which singular to say, did not exist on the island of Singapore before we formed settlements there.

8th of May.—I drove through the town this morning with Keppel. The principal proprietors and inhabitants are Chinese: there are streets full of Chinese blacksmiths —fine athletic fellows; others, of shoemakers and tailors; and some containing open booths, under canvas awnings, resembling the Persian and Turkish bazaars.

I understand that our celestial subjects here do not treat us with the same outward respect practised by their brethren of Java towards their more tyrannical masters, the Dutch. Here, they never think of letting fall their tails (which, for greater convenience, they wear twisted round their heads) when they speak to you. In China, such an omission is considered as great an insult as it would be in England to enter a room with a hat on; in Batavia, they not only drop their tails, but stand or squat until Mynheer passes. What struck me particularly was to see in common use the various (and to our habits inconvenient) utensils which are in England considered mere curiosities or ornaments, as for instance, the small china tea-cup and cover, large glazed paper lantern, and porcelain stool, chopsticks, painted umbrella, glass cloth shirts as fine as cambric, paper soled shoes, and china jars.

Drove to the jos-house, so well described by Lord Jocelyn. It is built close to the sea-shore, in the centre of the Chinese quarter of the town; the materials were brought from China for the purpose. It is dedicated to Fo. The outer gates conduct to an open court, neatly tiled and surrounded by a verandah, under which the embroidered silk canopies of procession appropriate to the various idols are arranged. On the beams, stone pillars, cornices, and wood-work, insects and flowers, birds and monsters are carved, with depth and boldness, in every variety of grotesque form. The corners and gable ends, curving upwards, are surmounted by porcelain dragons with forked and gaily coloured tails; the roof is covered with glazed tiles made of the same material, but of courser texture, and underneath the projecting edge, upon a white china belt, flowers and creepers are exquisitely embossed and coloured.

In the midst of the temple, behind the high altar, and placed between a blue and red devil, each the size of life, sits an image of the Tien-How, or Queen of Heaven—a most ungainly idol. At the feet of this image are a number of little devils, each fronted by its pot full of incense sticks. The devotees seek for the protection of a grinning elf of sandal wood, or endeavour to propitiate some favourite idol of porcelain, much after the fashion and practice among the most superstitious of the followers of the Romish Church: as Père Intorcetta said, as if the Devil had run a race with the Jesuits to China, and, having got the start of them, had contrived these things for their mortification.

 

Chapter II.

Departure from Singapore. — Drumming Fish. — Lema Islands. — Hong-Kong. — Pedestrian Excursion. — Chinese Reverence for the Aged. — Trip to Macao. — Chinese Boat-Women. — Mercenary Character of the Chinese. — Kidnapping. — Portuguese Settlers. — Return to Hong-Kong. — Departure of the Fleet for the Scene of Operations.

WE sailed from Singapore on the afternoon of the 11th of May, leaving the Rattlesnake and Serpent, two of our outstripped and crestfallen vanguard, actively employed completing provisions and water. When about five miles from the harbour, we passed within hail of H. M. frigate Thalia, Captain C. Hope. He, like the rest, had experienced lighter winds by keeping a lower latitude.

In the evening we heard, for the third time since we entered the Archipelago, an extraordinary noise under the ship’s quarters and round her stern. It resembled the buzzing of a multitude of bees, and caused a tremulous motion, which was distinctly felt by placing the hand on the vessel’s side. The profound among us speculated upon the phenomenon, and reasoned most learnedly on every ideal probability. One ...