was a favorite article of consumption in China, and its use there had
given rise to an important industry in British India, in the growth of
the poppy. In the year 1800 the emperor, perceiving the growing evil in
the use of opium by his people, issued an edict forbidding its
introduction into China. This did not check the trade, its only effect
being to convert legitimate into smuggling traffic. The trade went on as
briskly as before, the smugglers being openly aided by venal officials
not only at Canton but at other points along the coast. By 1838 the
disregard of the law, and the quantity of opium smuggled into the empire
by small boats on the Canton River, had become so great that the Peking
government determined to take more active steps for the suppression of
the illicit trade. At this time there were more than fifty small craft
plying on the river under the English and American flags, most of them
smugglers. Some of these were seized and destroyed, but as the others
were then heavily manned and armed the revenue officers declined to
interfere with them, and the contraband trade went briskly on.
At length the difficulty reached a climax. Arrests and punishments for
the use of opium became common throughout the empire, three royal
princes were degraded for this practice, a commissioner with large
powers was sent from Peking to Canton, and the foreigners were ordered
to deliver up every particle of opium in their store-ships and give
bonds to bring no more, on penalty of death. As a result, somewhat more
than one thousand chests were tendered to the commissioner, but this was
declared to be not enough, and that official at once took the decisive
measure of cutting off the food-supply from the foreign settlement. This
and other active steps brought about the desired result. Captain Elliot,
the British superintendent of commerce, advised a complete delivery of
all opium under British control, and before night more than twenty
thousand chests of the deleterious drug were surrendered into his hands,
and were offered by him to the commissioner the next day.
News of this event was sent to Peking, and orders came back that the
opium should be all destroyed; which was done effectively by mixing it
with salt water and lime in trenches and drawing off the mixture into an
adjacent creek. Care was taken that none should be purloined, and one
man was executed on the spot for attempting to steal a small portion of
the drug. Thus perished an amount of the valuable substance rated at
cost price at nearly eleven million dollars.
We have described this event at some length, as it led to the first war
between China and a foreign power. The destruction of the opium deeply
offended the British government, and in the next year (1840) Captain
Elliot received an official letter to the effect that war would be
declared unless China should pay for the goods destroyed. As China
showed no intention of doing so, an English fleet was sent to Chinese
waters in the summer of 1841, whose admiral declared a blockade of the
port of Canton, and, on July 5, bombarded and captured the town of
Ting-hai. Various other places were blockaded, and, as the emperor
rejected all demands, the fleet moved upon Canton, taking the forts
along the river as it advanced. In the end, when an attack had become
imminent, the authorities ransomed their city for the sum of six million
dollars.
But the emperor did not know yet the strength of the power with which he
had to deal, and still continued silent and defiant. The fleet now
sailed northward, capturing in succession Amoy, Chin-hai, and Ning-po.
Cha-pu was the next to fall, and here the Manchu Tartars for the first
time came into conflict with the English. When defeated, great numbers
of them killed themselves, first destroying their wives and children.
The forts at the mouth of the Yang-tse-Kiang were next taken. Here the
governor-general took care to post himself out of danger, but in a
grandiloquent despatch declared that he had been in the hottest of the
fight, "where cannon-balls innumerable, flying in awful confusion
through the expanse of heaven, fell before, behind, and on every side,
while in the distance were visible the ships of the rebels standing
erect, lofty as mountains. The fierce daring of the rebels was
inconceivable; officers and men fell at their posts. Every effort to
resist the onset was in vain, and a retreat became inevitable."
The result was the capture of Shanghai. The British now determined on a
siege of the important city of Nanking, the ancient capital of China.
The movement began with an attack on Chin-Kiang-fu, the "Mart-river
city." Here a fierce assault was made, the Manchu garrison resisting
with obstinate courage. In the end, of the garrison of four thousand
only five hundred remained, most of the others having killed themselves.
This victory rendered the capture of Nanking certain, its food-supply
was already endangered by the English control of the river, and the
authorities gave way. The emperor was now convinced that further
resistance was hopeless, and the truce ended in a treaty of peace, the
Chinese government agreeing to pay twenty-one million dollars indemnity,
to open to British trade and residence the ports of Canton, Amoy,
Foo-Chow, Ning-po, and Shanghai, and to cede to the English the island
of Hong-Kong, with various minor stipulations.
This war, which was fought with the discreditable purpose of forcing
upon China an injurious drug against her will, had nevertheless several
very useful results. Other European nations hastened to claim the same
privileges of trade that were given the English, and in 1844 a
commercial treaty was signed between China and the United States, in the
conduct of which a favorable disposition towards Americans was shown.
The eventual result was the breaking down of the barriers of intolerance
which had been so long maintained, that ancient and self-satisfied
government being at last forced to throw open its gates for the entrance
of the new ideas of international amity and freedom of commerce.
But much had still to be done before these desirable results could be
fully achieved. Hostile relations were not yet at an end, annoying
restrictions being placed on the promised intercourse. In 1856 a native
vessel flying the British flag was seized by the Chinese, who refused to
apologize to the British for the act. As a result, the city of Canton
was bombarded and the forts were destroyed. A warlike demonstration was
decided upon by Great Britain and France, the first result being the
total destruction of the Chinese fleet and the capture of Canton. A
revision of the former treaty and the concession of greater privileges
were demanded, which China, warned by the lesson of the opium war, found
itself obliged to grant.
The English and French, however, refused to treat at Canton, as the
Chinese desired, but sailed to the mouth of the Pei-ho, the port of
Peking, up which stream their fleets proceeded to the city of Tien-tsin.
Here arrangements for a new treaty of commerce and the opening of new
ports were made, Russia and the United States taking part in the
negotiations. But on proceeding to the mouth of the Pei-ho in 1859 to
ratify the treaty, the river was found to be obstructed and the forts
strongly armed. The American and Russian envoys were willing to go to
Peking overland, in accordance with the Chinese request, but the British
and French determined to force their way up the stream and to take as
many soldiers with them as they pleased. They attacked the forts,
therefore, but, to their disgust, found themselves defeated and forced
to withdraw.
This repulse could have but one result. It gave the Chinese for the
first time confidence in their ability to meet the foreigner in war. It
humiliated and exasperated the English and French. They determined now
to carry the war to the gates of Peking and force the Chinese to
acknowledge the supremacy of the nations of the West.
The events of this war we can give only in outline. In the summer of
1860 a new attack was made on the Taku forts, troops being landed to
assail them in the rear, in which direction no arrangement for defence
had been made. As a result the forts fell, a large body of Tartar
cavalry, which sought to stop the march of the allies with bows, arrows,
and spears, being taught a lesson in modern war by the explosion of
shells in their ranks. The capture of the forts left the way clear for a
march on the capital, which was at once made, and on the 5th of October,
1860, a European army first came within view of this long-hidden and
mysterious city.
_THE BURNING OF THE SUMMER PALACE._
The "sublime" emperor, the supreme head of the great realm of China and
its hundreds of millions of people, dwells in a magnificence and
seclusion unknown to the monarchs of other lands. His palace enclosure
within the city of Peking, the "Purple Forbidden City," as it is called,
covers over half a square mile of ground, and is surrounded by a wall
forty feet high and more than forty feet thick. Within this sacred
enclosure the Chinese ideas of beauty and magnificence have been
developed to the fullest extent, and the emperor resides in
unapproachable grandeur and state. Outside the city, a few miles to the
north, lies the Summer Palace, another locality on which the Celestial
architects and landscape artists have exhausted their genius in devising
scenes of beauty and charm, and which is similarly walled in from the
common herd. Beyond the Great Wall, on the borders of Tartary, exists
another palatial enclosure, the hunting and pleasure grounds of the
emperor, in the midst of an immense forest abundantly stocked with game.
To the latter his supreme majesty made his way with all haste on hearing
of the rapid approach of the English and French armies. In truth, the
great monarchs of the Manchu dynasty had passed away, and the feeble
reigning emperor lacked the courage to fight for his throne.
On the 5th of October, 1860, the allied armies of England and France
approached the Celestial capital, the officers obtaining their first
view of its far-stretching wall from the tops of some grass-grown
brick-kilns. On the next day the march was resumed, the French force
advancing upon the Summer Palace, where it was hoped the emperor would
be found, the English directing their course towards the city, where a
Tartar picket was driven in and preparations were begun for an assault
in force.
The Summer Palace was found in charge of some three hundred eunuchs,
whom Prince Kung, who had left in all haste the evening before, had
ordered to make a gallant defence. But the entrance gave way before the
impetuous assault of the French, a few of the defenders fell dead or
wounded, and the remainder beat a hasty retreat, leaving the grand
entrance to the Yuen-ming-yuen, the famous imperial residence, in the
hands of the daring and disrespectful "barbarians."
Into the grand reception-hall, which none had heretofore entered except
in trembling awe, the irreverent foreigners boldly made their way, their
spurred heels ringing on the broad marble floor before the emperor's
sacred throne, their loud voices resounding through that spacious hall
where silence and ceremony so long had reigned supreme, as the awed
courtiers approached with silent tread and voiceless respect the throne
of the dreaded Brother of the Sun and Moon.
"Imagine such a scene," says Swinhoe. "The emperor is seated on his
ebony throne, attired in a yellow robe wrought over with dragons in gold
thread, his head surmounted with a spherical crown of gold and precious
stones, with pearl drops suspended round on light gold chains. His
eunuchs and ministers, in court costume, are ranged on either side on
their knees, and his guard of honor and musicians drawn up in two lines
in the court-yard without. The name of the distinguished person to be
introduced is called out, and as he approaches the band strikes up. He
draws near the awful throne, and, looking meekly on the ground, drops on
his knees before the central steps. He removes his hat from his head,
and places it on the throne floor with its peacock feather towards the
imperial donor. The emperor moves his hand, and down goes the humble
head, and the forehead strikes on the step three times three. The head
is then raised, but the eyes are still meekly lowered, as the imperial
voice in thrilling accents pronounces the behest of the great master.
The voice hushed, down goes the head again and acknowledges the
sovereign right, and the privileged individual is allowed to withdraw.
The scene described is not imaginary, but warranted by the accounts of
natives.
"How different the scene now! The hall filled with crowds of a foreign
soldiery, and the throne floor covered with the Celestial emperor's
choicest curios, but destined as gifts for two far more worthy monarchs.
'See here,' said General Montauban, pointing to them. 'I have had a few
of the most brilliant things selected to be divided between the Queen
of Great Britain and the Emperor of the French!'"
[Illustration: STREET SCENE. PEKIN, CHINA.]
General Montauban had declared that no looting should take place until
the British came up, that all might have their equal share, but the
fierce desire of the French soldiers for spoil could not easily be
restrained. Even the officers were no better, and as the rooms of the
palace were boldly explored, "gold watches and small valuables were
whipped up by these gentlemen with amazing velocity, and as speedily
disappeared into their capacious pockets." Into the very bedroom of the
emperor the unawed visitors made their way, and gazed with curious eyes
on the imperial couch, curtained over and covered with silk mattresses.
Under the pillow was a small silk handkerchief, with sundry writings in
the vermilion pencil concerning the "barbarians," while on a table lay
pipes and other articles of daily use. On another table was found the
English treaty of 1858, whose terms were soon to be largely modified.
Meanwhile the nimble-fingered French soldiers had not been idle, and the
camp was full of articles of value or interest, silks and curios, many
of them rare prizes, watches, pencil-cases set with diamonds, jewelled
vases, and a host of other costly trifles, chief among which was a
string of splendid pearls exhibited by one officer, each pearl of the
size of a marble and the whole of immense value.
On Sunday morning, the 7th of October, the orders against looting were
withdrawn, and officers and men, English and French alike, rushed
excitedly about the place, appropriating every valuable which it was
within their power to carry. What could not be carried away was
destroyed, a spirit of wanton destruction seeming to animate them all.
Some amused themselves by shooting at the chandeliers, others by playing
pitch-and-toss against large and costly mirrors, while some armed
themselves with clubs and smashed to pieces everything too heavy to be
carried, finishing the work by setting on fire the emperor's private
residence.
Those who paid more heed to observation than to destruction have given
us interesting accounts of the Summer Palace and its surroundings, whose
vast enclosure extended from the place where the French entered to the
foot of the first range of hills north of Peking, six or seven miles
away. Over this broad extent were scattered gardens, palaces, temples,
and pagodas on terraces and artificial hills. Some of these were like
the one seen by Marco Polo in the palace enclosure of Kublai Khan, being
from three hundred to four hundred feet in height, their sides covered
with forest-trees of all kinds, through whose foliage the yellow-tiled
palace roofs appeared. In the midst of these hills lay a large lake,
containing two or three islands, on which were picturesque buildings,
the islands being reached by quaint and beautiful stone bridges.
On one side of the lake ran the favorite walk of the emperor and his
court, winding in and out for more than two miles among grottos and
flower-gardens, roofed in by flowering creepers. Where palaces touched
the water's edge the walk was carried past on light but beautiful stone
terraces built over the lake. Grandeur was added to the general beauty
of the scene by the high mountains of Tartary which rose in the rear.
The work of looting was followed by a sale of the spoil under the walls
of Peking, the auction continuing for three days, during which a large
quantity of valuable plunder was disposed of. Many of the French
officers had acquired considerable fortunes, and numbers of their men
were nearly as well supplied. For several days intoxication and disorder
prevailed, while the disposition to plunder was extended from the palace
to the neighboring villages.
Meanwhile the preparations for an assault on Peking had gone forward.
The Anting gate was the point selected, the Chinese being given until
the 12th for a peaceful surrender. As noon of that day drew near, the
gunners stood by their pieces, a storming party excitedly awaited the
order to charge as soon as a breach had been made, and General Napier,
watch in hand, timed the slow minutes. Five minutes to twelve arrived.
The general was almost on the point of giving the order, the gunners
were growing eager and excited, when Colonel Stephenson came galloping
hastily up with the news that the gate had been surrendered. In a few
minutes more it was thrown open, a party of British marched in and took
possession, and the French followed with beating drums and flying flags,
forcing the natives back as they advanced.
That afternoon several prisoners were restored to the allies. They
proved to have been inhumanly treated and were in a condition of
fearful emaciation, while the bodies of several who had died were also
given up, among them that of Mr. Bowlby, correspondent of the London
_Times_. This spectacle aroused the greatest indignation in the British
camp. A terrible retribution might have been inflicted upon Peking had
not a promise of its safety been given if the gate were surrendered. But
the emperor's rural retreat lay at the mercy of the troops, and Lord
Elgin gave orders that its palaces should be levelled with the ground.
The French refused to aid in this act of vandalism, which they strongly
condemned,--a verdict which has since been that of the civilized world.
But Lord Elgin was fixed in his purpose, and the work of destruction
went on.
Soon flames appeared above the devoted structures, and long columns of
smoke rose to the sky, increasing in width and density as the day waned,
until the canopy of smoke hung like a vast storm-cloud over Peking, and
the sorrowful eyes of those on the walls saw the flashing fire that told
of the swift destruction of what it had taken centuries to build. For
two days the work of ruin in the imperial grounds went on, the soldiers
carrying away what they could from the burning buildings, though a vast
amount of property was destroyed, the loss being estimated at a value of
over ten million dollars.
Threats were now made that unless compensation should be paid for the
British subjects maltreated and murdered, and the treaty signed within a
fixed period, the palace in Peking would be seized and other steps of
violence taken. There was no redress for the Chinese. They were in the
grasp of their foes and were obliged to submit. On the 24th, Lord Elgin
was carried in state in his green sedan-chair through the principal
street of the city, attended by a force of about eight thousand
soldiers, while multitudes of Chinese viewed the procession with curious
eyes. Prince Kung awaited him in a large hall, and here the Treaty of
Tien-tsin, to obtain a ratification of which the allies had come to
Peking, was formally executed. At the close of the ceremonies the prince
tendered a banquet, but the British declined the proffered honor,
fearing that they might be poisoned by the Chinese cooks. A similar
banquet offered to the French on the following day was readily accepted,
and none of them suffered through their faith in the honor of their
host.
Since the date of this war the process of opening China to the nations
of the West has gone unceasingly on, the policy of exclusion of that old
nation slowly but steadily giving way. In 1873, on the young emperor
Tung-chi attaining his majority, the long-refused audience with the
emperor without performing the _kotow_ was granted, the ambassador of
Japan being first received, and after him those of the United States,
Russia, Great Britain, France, and the Netherlands. For the first time
foreigners were permitted to stand erect and gaze with uplifted eyes on
"the sacred countenance," and the equality with the emperor of the
monarchs of the West was acknowledged by the Celestial court.
_A GREAT CHRISTIAN MOVEMENT AND ITS FATE._
The Chinese are a peculiar people, and have odd ideas of the power and
duty of their monarchs and of their own rights and duties. In their
country no son has the right to resist his father, even if he be treated
with tyrannical cruelty. But in regard to the emperor, though they look
upon him as the father of his people, they claim the right to depose him
and put him to death if he plays the tyrant. So long as he rules with
justice and wisdom both man and nature acknowledge his authority, but if
he violates the principles of justice and goodness the Chinaman claims
the right to rebel, while such evils of nature as pestilence and famine,
destructive storms and earthquakes, are held as proofs that Heaven is
withdrawing from the weak or wicked emperor the right to rule.
The history of the empire is full of instances of popular rebellions
against offending rulers, some quelled, others hurling the monarch from
his throne, and in this way most of the old dynasties ended and new ones
began. The course of events brought about such a state of affairs in the
nineteenth century. Though the Chinese have never been content with
their Manchu rulers, they submitted to them as long as they were just
and public-spirited. But in time this dynasty suffered the fate of all
others, weak emperors following the strong ones, and in the reign of the
incompetent Kea-king, who succeeded Keen Lung, rebellions broke out in a
dozen quarters, pirates ravaged the coast, and the disaffection extended
throughout the realm.
In 1820 this weak emperor died, and was succeeded by Taou-kwang, who
proved even less fit to rule than his father, devoting himself to the
pursuit of pleasure and leaving the empire to take care of itself. Soon
new rebels were in the field, whom the armies proved unable to put down,
and the disorganization of the empire made rapid progress. Even the
Meaou-tsze, or hill-tribes, the descendants of the first inhabitants of
the country, rose in arms and defeated an army of thirty thousand men.
War with the English added to the discontent, which grew greater until
1850, when the emperor died and his son Heen-fung ascended the throne.
This was going from bad to worse. The new emperor was still more selfish
and tyrannical than his father, and under the control of his craving for
sensual pleasures paid no heed to the popular cry for reform. The
discontent was now coming to a head. In the south broke out a revolt,
whose leaders proclaimed as emperor a youth said to be a descendant of
the Ming dynasty, who took the royal name of Teen-tih, or "Heavenly
Virtue." But he and his followers soon vanished before another and abler
aspirant to the throne, the first man with a genius for command who had
headed any of these rebel outbreaks.
The leader of this remarkable movement sprang from the lowest ranks of
the people, being the son of a peasant dwelling in a village near
Canton. Hung Sew-tseuen was a man of ardent imagination and religious
enthusiasm. Strange visions came to him, and held him captive for some
forty days, in which the visitors of his dreaming fancy urged him to
destroy the idols. Some years afterwards he read a Christian pamphlet
containing chapters from the Scriptures, and found it to correspond
closely with what he had seen and heard in his vision. Inspired by these
various influences, he felt himself divinely commissioned to restore his
country to the worship of the true God, and set out on a mission to
convert the people to his new faith.