AT WAR IN CHINA
After ten days or so of hard work and exposure on this desert island, I
was sent to the _Nankin_, a 50-gun frigate, and took passage in her to
Hong-Kong, to await events.
Commodore Elliot was hard at the Chinese junks up the Canton River,
when Keppel took his place. As luck would have it, my dear Chief took
me with him; also Prince Victor of Hohenlohe, Goodenough, Charlie
Scott, and Harry Stephenson. Goodenough had command of the improvised
gun-boat, the _Hong-Kong_. Having little or no kit left, I managed to
get a small fit-out at Hong-Kong before joining. Very little sufficed
for that rough work up the river. I had lost nearly all my clothes.
What became of my sea chest I don’t know (nor my poor fiddle I was so
fond of). I expect it was left on the desert island, with what little
there was in it. Sea chest! What a ghastly thing it was! You were
supposed to wash in it. Fancy your stock of white shirts being slopped
over, as well as your uniform, every time you went to your chest to
wash your hands. A certain part of a cockpit could easily have been
arranged with drawers for middies’ clothes, and there might have been a
decent place to bathe in.
We started up the Canton River for the front on the 20th of May, and
joined the Fleet of brigs, gun-boats, and small corvettes at the
rendezvous off the Bogue forts, fortified islands some distance up
the river--I should imagine half-way to Canton. Some of these brigs
were lovely little ships. A 16-gun brig under all sail was one of the
prettiest sights imaginable. I particularly remember a little beauty
called the _Acorn_.
The old _Alligator_ was towed up and turned into a depot flagship. She
was an old 26-gun frigate, as broad as she was long; and, short as I
was, I had to stoop in going along the main deck, lest I should strike
against the overhead beams.
When we were not fighting, or on some expedition, this old frigate
served as our flagship; and, though cramped, we were certainly much
cooler and better provided for. Towards the end of May the plan for
the attack on the Chinese war-junks was completed. Gun-boats were told
off to lead divisions of boats and take them in tow. Our larger boats,
launches, and barges carried brass guns in the bows; cutters were
armed with rockets, besides rifles and cutlasses.
The rockets John Chinaman particularly dreaded: they upset his nervous
system. I wrote home at this time, saying:--
We hate these Chinese; it takes twenty of them to equal one
Englishman, and they are awful cowards. They carry what they call
stink-pots at the mast-heads of their junks, so that when our boats
get alongside to board them, these pots are lowered into our boats,
explode or break as the case may be, causing such a frightful
stench that you are suffocated by the disgusting smell, but if they
will only hold on and not bolt when we get among them we shall pay
them off properly. But they say these chaps cannot stand close
quarters.
What a novelty to me was China--people, customs, costumes, and
eccentricity of the women! I am afraid we treated China very badly. I
remember landing at low water on one occasion at Hong-Kong in company
with several other officers. We had to be carried ashore through the
soft mud on the boatmen’s backs. We were all in nice clean white
clothes. To our horror, on landing we found ourselves besmeared with
cocoa-nut oil. The boatmen had rubbed oil all over their naked hides,
to keep the flies and other insects off. We were a dirty sight;
and retaliated by thrashing the poor wretches with our sticks and
umbrellas. They bore our abuse without a murmur.
On the 30th of May, the attacking force was pushed up the river to a
point where various creeks debouched from the main stream. Up one of
these creeks we were to fight our battle of Fatshan on the 1st of June.
The boats were all towed up by the gun-boats, presenting a very long
string: they were an imposing sight. The _Hong-Kong_, on which vessel
I was serving, flew Commodore Keppel’s broad pennant. We had a good
reconnoitre of the Chinese war-junks on the 31st, while the finishing
touches were being made among our gun-boats and attacking forces.
At sunset we returned to the flotilla, and the last orders for the
morrow’s fight were given out. We anticipated a hard tussle. We were
right. The Chinese had placed stakes in the river at certain ranges,
which we must pass, and all their guns were beautifully laid for those
marks.
There was a fort also on a commanding hill on our left front, which
must be taken before the boats could advance to capture the junks; and
this was to be the first operation.
After supper on the night of the 31st we all lay down in our boats, or
on the decks of the gun-boats, to get some sleep. The gun-boats were
anchored, with boats all lying in single file astern. It was a lovely
calm night, and pretty hot; and beyond the noise of frogs on the banks,
and a few night birds parading about, there was little sound to be
heard. We did ourselves as well as we could: some snoozing; others
smoking, spinning yarns, discussing eventualities; and no doubt many
minds with their thoughts far away. Those who have gone through the eve
of an action know too well the many things that run in the mind. Those
who have not I wish well through it when their time comes; and to all
who may happen to read these pages, luck.
Soon after 3.30 A.M., and before daylight had dawned, the boats were
ordered to be manned; the landing-party told off to assault the fort
were sent on ahead; the rest of the forces followed slowly, with orders
to move on when the fort was carried.
Just at break of day the landing-party were ashore and rushing the
hill at the point of the bayonet, while the leading gun-boats pitched
shot and shell into the fort, to cover the assault. It did not take
long. The Chinamen fired a few shots; but, being overwhelmed by the
fire of the gun-boats, and seeing the gallant marines close at hand,
they bolted like rabbits. On went the flotilla, until one by one they
grounded. The _Hong-Kong_, luckily, drew a foot or so less of water.
We were highly favoured thereby, and got to pretty close quarters with
the junks. As each gun-boat grounded, the tide being at low water, the
boats pushed ahead and came in for a real good dressing, it being now
broad daylight and the sun rising.
Presently the _Hong-Kong_ stuck, and a battery, which was masked by
trees and sheds, opened fire on our right flank, and caused us much
annoyance. Owing to there being many trees about, they could not see
our hull properly; but they made several holes in our funnel and
paddle-boxes.
Soon the tide began to rise. One by one we all floated and scraped on,
as the depth of water permitted, in order to cover our boats, which
were now in the thick of it. Keppel led them in his 6-oared galley.
The fire was very heavy: it has always been a marvel to me that we
did not lose more men, for the shot were ricochetting down the river
as thick as hail, from junks moored across the creek in two lines at
intervals. Some of these junks had eight or ten guns on board, and
many of them 32-pounders, besides endless jingalls. They certainly
looked very formidable, and were decidedly picturesque, being painted
in various colours (generally red and green) and flying streamers and
flags on all their masts. When we reached a distance of 300 yards or so
of the boats, we began firing over their heads; and then, some of the
other gun-boats having come up, we gave the junks goss!
Beyond helping to direct the firing, I had little to do, and was all
this time merely a spectator on the deck of the _Hong-Kong_: so I had
the satisfaction of seeing the whole business well.
Presently we grounded again. I now saw that at a distance of about 300
yards our boats had taken the first line of junks, and were setting on
fire those which had not begun to move off; and these very soon began
to blow up, the explosion being dangerous, as spars and timber were
falling about in all directions. Having passed through the first line
of junks, our boats came under fire of a second fleet, and our poor
chaps were suffering severely. Whole sides of oars were shot away; many
boats came to grief, and some were sunk; each crew had to take refuge
in the nearest boat.
Keppel’s galley was at this time sunk, and five of his crew of six
men were killed or wounded. He got on board a boat belonging to
the _Calcutta_, and, finding his force gradually diminishing, was
compelled to beat a retreat for the time being, and rally with what
was left round the _Hong-Kong_, the nearest _point d’appui_. Noticing
our retrograde movement, John Chinaman doubled his efforts, and the
shot came thicker than ever. We were hulled twelve times in a short
space--in fact, were being well raked. There was nothing now to do but
to await reinforcements. The deeper-draught gun-boats, with their boats
in tow, were coming up to join us.
About this time--I should think 11.30--an unfortunate marine had both
his legs taken off by a round shot; and my (white) ducks, face, and
body were splashed with the poor chap’s blood. Looking over the side
about this time, I noticed a launch close alongside. I actually saw the
whole of one side of her oars cut away, and at the same instant two men
killed on the after-thwart, one poor chap’s skull killing the man on
the thwart alongside of him.
Lieutenant Graham had a round shot between the calves of his legs,
contusing them; but he managed to hang on to his work.
The men were fearfully done up. Keppel gave the order to serve out
quinine and biscuits during the time we were rallying; but I do not
think a dozen men had time to swallow this frugal meal before Keppel,
who was at this moment on top of our paddle-box, suddenly called out,
“The beggars are making off. Man the boats! man the boats!” and,
shaking his fist at them, further exclaimed, “You rascals! I’ll pay
you off for this!” What a rush! Fresh boats had come up; a frantic
cheer was given; and on they raced exactly like boats at a regatta,
indiscriminately, straight at the junks, which now slackened their fire
and appeared to be getting into position with their oars to make away.
Now there was no quarter. Junk after junk was taken. Some ran on the
banks and were fired immediately: Chinamen jumping overboard in all
directions, and swimming for their lives. Some five or so, I believe,
got away. The rest were chased for six miles up the river, towards the
town of Fatshan; but our chaps were done, and, as Fatshan was fortified
and full of troops, we could do no more. So ended a thundering good
fight.
The _Hong-Kong_ went up some distance beyond the junks that had been
captured in the morning, to cover the boats; but, owing to the shoaling
of the water, our progress was slow. We were scraping the mud most of
the time.
When the boats returned it was about 3.30 P.M.: so we had been hard at
it for twelve hours. As I said before, it was simply marvellous that
our casualties were so slight. Between seventy and eighty, I believe,
was our butcher’s bill. I fancy that, as the boats and gun-boats were
all bows-on most of the time, it must be considered that we offered
small targets. Otherwise the smallness of our loss is unaccountable.
I may be allowed, perhaps, to copy a letter from the Commodore that
appeared in _The Times_ soon after the news got to England. It will
naturally be a description better than my account. It was written
on 20th of July, three weeks after the action, from on board the
_Alligator_.--
The three weeks of this month have been full of excitement. We
commenced on the 1st with as pretty a boat action as any ever
recorded in naval history, though it may never be appreciated
because it was fought in China. The troops are now unfortunately
required for India, and, I suppose, we shall not get them before
summer is over. [This is in allusion to the outbreak of the Indian
Mutiny.] So much the better for them, as it is boiling hot here
now. In the meantime we have to keep the Canton River open for
them, it being the high road to the Celestial City, which I suppose
they will have to occupy before Lord Elgin attempts to bring
Commissioner Yeh to terms. I am left here in command of the river,
the fort of Chuenpee, which I took possession of on the 18th,
being my boundary at one end, and the Macao fort at the other.
They are about forty miles apart. All the intermediate forts have
been demolished, and on the 1st we polished off the remainder of
their war fleet, about 180 Imperial war-junks, so that now I have
uncontrolled possession. Our worthy chief, a fine fellow he is,
remains with his flagship at Hong-Kong, paying us occasional visits
in one of the small steamers. I have seventeen ships manned by
about 2600 men, stationed at different distances, and this being
the anniversary of Her Majesty’s accession, they are dressed out
with bunting, and at noon Commissioner Yeh will be edified by royal
salutes fired the whole length of the river from Canton to below
the Bogue forts.
[Illustration: The battle of Fatshan, showing the sinking of
Commodore The Honourable Henry Keppel’s galley, 1st June 1857.]
My poor _Raleigh_ no longer belongs to Her Majesty’s Navy, and
the Admiral has appointed all the officers and myself to the
_Alligator_, with three tenders to do our work. I live in the
_Hong-Kong_, but come here to sleep when not moving about, this old
hulk being a sort of fixture.
We all mess together, viz., Lieutenant Goodenough, Dr. Crawford,
Prince Victor, Autey, my secretary, Lord Charles Scott, Montagu,
and Stephenson. We are very happy and jolly, and this temporary
arrangement is a very good one. We thought we were going to have
a little fight the other day. The Admiral ordered me to take the
Chuenpee fort; we moved down in good order, but the enemy guessed
what they might expect, and very wisely “hooked it.” I am afraid
this is the last little affair that is likely to take place this
summer. The upper part of the river is not considered so healthy as
the rest, so I have the ships relieved every fortnight. There are
two islands near where we are anchored, where the officers and men
assemble every evening and play at quoits and all sorts of games.
Turnour is up at the front; they are obliged to be continually on
the alert to look out for fire rafts and all sorts of infernal
machines. I generally visit them once a week in Hong-Kong. I hope
somebody gave you a good account of our boat fight on the 1st June.
It must have been a beautiful sight to those who viewed it from the
heights. The shallow water obliged the _Hong-Kong_ to ground, or
she would have been in front of everything, but when she grounded
I led on my boats in my gig, but as the tide was rising the
_Hong-Kong_ followed on as fast as she could.
The first division of the Chinese Fleet were simultaneously
attacked by about 1900 men. Spread over a large surface they soon
gave way, but I did not take up more than a quarter of that number
to attack the second division, which was three miles higher up
the river, in a well-situated place, and evidently the _élite_
of their fleet. They numbered exactly twenty in one compact row,
they mounted from 10 to 12 guns each, two in bow and stern being
heavy 32-pounders. I saw I had all the _Raleigh_ boats well up,
and I determined to push on. They fired occasional shots as if to
ascertain our exact distance, but did not open their heaviest fire
until we got to 600 yards’ distance, and then I saw how impossible
it would be to force our way until I had reinforcements. Nearly the
first fellow who had his head knocked off was an amateur, Major
Kearney. I had known him many years. We cheered and I tried to get
on, when a shot struck my boat right amidships, cut one man in two
and took off the arm of another. Prince Victor, who was with me,
jumped forward to tie up his arm with his neckcloth. While he was
doing so another round shot passed through both sides of the boat,
wounding two others on its passage. The boat was now filling with
water and I got on one of the seats to keep my legs out of the
water, and just after stepping up a third shot went through both
sides of the boat not more than an inch below the seat on which
I was then standing. Many of our boats now got huddled together,
the oars of most being shot away. A boat of the _Calcutta_ being
nearest, I jumped into her, pulling our wounded men with us, my
dog Mike refusing to leave the dead body of the man who was his
favourite. We were obliged to leave him. I then gave the order to
retire on the _Hong-Kong_ and reform abreast of her. While we were
going down a shot cut away all the oars on one side. I called to
Lieutenant Graham to get his boat ready, as I would hoist my broad
pennant and lead the next attack in his boat. I had no sooner
spoken to him than a shot disabled his boat, wounding him and
killing and wounding four others. I saw Graham one mass of blood,
but it was from a marine who stood next to him, and part of whose
skull was forced three inches into another man’s shoulder. When
I reached the _Hong-Kong_ the whole of the enemy’s fire seemed
centred on her. She was hulled twelve times in a few minutes, her
deck was covered with the wounded who had been brought on board
from the boats. I was looking at him when a round shot cut down
a marine and he fell on them. From the paddle box I saw that our
heavy firing was bringing up strong reinforcements. The account
of having been obliged to retire had reached them, and they were
pulling like mad. The _Hong-Kong_ had floated and grounded again.
I ordered a bit of blue bunting to be got ready to represent my
broad pennant. I called out, “Let us try the row boats once more,
boys,”[1] and went over the side into the _Raleigh_ cutter, in
which was Turnour and the faithful Spurier[2] bringing the bit of
blue bunting. At this moment there arose from the boats, as if
every man took it up at the same instant, one of those British
cheers so full of meaning, that I knew at once it was all up with
John Chinaman. They might sink thirty boats, but there were thirty
others who would go ahead all the faster. On we went. It was indeed
a lovely and exciting sight. I saw the move among the junks; they
were breaking ground and moving off, the outermost first. This
manœuvre they performed in beautiful order. They never ceased to
fire. Three more cheers and then commenced an exciting chase for
seven miles. As our shot told on them they ran ashore and their
crews forsook them. Seventeen were come up with this way, and only
three escaped. It was in this last chase that my poor Spurier was
shot down by my side. I saw his bowels protruding as he lay in the
bottom of the boat, holding my hand. He asked me if I thought there
was any hope. I could only say--Where there is life there is hope.
But I had none. Strange to say, the good Crawford sewed him up, and
the Admiral’s last letter from Hong-Kong states Spurier hoped to
return to his duties in a few days.
[1] What he did say was, “The rascals are making off.” He shook
his fist at them, and further said, “I will pay you off for
this. Man the boats, boys.”
[2] His coxswain.
We have a surgeon out here who served in the Naval Brigade in the
Crimea. He says he never saw such frightful wounds as these Chinese
shot appear to make. By the way, I ought to record a delicate
attention from the ladies of Macao. My Commodore’s broad pennant
had been lost when my boat sunk. They presented me with a new silk
one, worked with their own fair hands! I hope some day to plant it
on the walls of the Celestial City, where the “Braves,” as they
call themselves, shall respect it.
I will now, in conclusion, give a letter equally gratifying in its
way:--
From REAR-ADMIRAL SIR MICHAEL SEYMOUR.
SIR,--I had the satisfaction of communicating yesterday to the
squadron generally my high sense of the zeal and gallantry
displayed by the officers and men in the decisive action against
the Chinese war junks in Fatshan Creek on the 1st inst., but I feel
it is further incumbent on me to express personally my admiration
of the cool courage and good judgment with which you led the
attack, first in the gun-boats until they grounded, and afterwards
in the ships’ boats up the Fatshan branch, when in the vicinity of
the city of Fatshan the severe struggle with the formidable line of
heavy junks moored across the river commenced, and the _Hong-Kong_
again aground bore so conspicuous a part. Also your subsequent
determined attack with the boats under your command, which finally
dislodged the junk forces, and led to the uttermost success of the
day.
The fact that your galley was sunk under you, and that five out
of six of your crew were killed and wounded, is the best proof
that you maintained the post of honour throughout. I sincerely
congratulate you on your safety, and shall not fail to bring
your services to the notice of the Lord Commissioners of the
Admiralty.--I have the honour [etc.],
M. SEYMOUR, _Commander-in-Chief_.
The action over, all the killed and wounded were placed on board my
ship, and we were ordered to convey them post-haste down to the Naval
Hospital at Hong-Kong. We took down eighty killed and wounded; and,
as we were but a small river steamer,--considerably smaller than an
ordinary tug-boat,--it can be imagined that the poor fellows lay thick
on deck and below. Our troubles were not over. A sort of sequel to the
fight was going on; and a most unpleasant one it was. As we proceeded,
we passed through the junks which we had taken in the morning, now all
on fire; explosions were going on in all directions; and (which was
almost worse) the guns as they got hot (pointing in every direction)
were continually going off. It was a case of running the gauntlet: how
I did watch the muzzles as we passed close by!
Luckily, we were not hit, though our awning caught fire in several
places from falling _débris_; and mighty glad was I to find our poor
craft clear of all these blazing junks and once more out of harm’s way.
I had one very close shave during the fighting. (Probably there were
plenty of others, unknown to me.) I was standing on the sponson,
helping the wounded up out of the boats, when I heard a devil of a
crash close to my head, and, turning round, saw a great bulge and crack
in the pantry bulkhead, at the after end of the paddle-box, exactly
in a line with my head. I could not resist the temptation to look
round, and in at the door, to see what was wrong; and there I beheld an
18-pound shot still pirouetting round on a shelf on which stood some of
our crockery, now all more or less smashed. The missile had gone right
through our paddle-box from one end to the other. A few more grains of
powder or one bulkhead less, and my head would have been unshipped to a
moral.
Luckily, John Chinaman was not in those days enlightened in the use of
shells. Had he been so, we should probably have lost four times as many
men, and we might not have been able to take and destroy the Chinese
Fleet as we did; Still, the Chinamen had grape, and filled their
guns with bags of musket balls; and the jingall was an ugly customer,
throwing a very large bullet.
Once out of fire, on our way down the river, there was time to reflect.
What would we not have given for a good cup of China tea under some
of the groves we passed, and for the privilege of being left in peace
for a short time? Instead of being at rest, we were tearing along
full-speed, leaking like a sieve, owing to the shot holes.
The first thing I did to my outward person was to change my clothes and
make an attempt at a wash. I was covered in blood, begrimed with smoke:
in fact, filthy. I had a hasty feed on what I could get hold of: to
find anything was difficult, with so many poor wounded lying about on
the beds in our cabins, on the sofas, everywhere.
The next trouble was our leaks. Where the shot had gone through our
sides all was fairly well, as the holes had been plugged up and covered
with boarding; but several had stuck in our sides, and the vibration
of the engines loosened them, and the leakage was serious. Pumps were
kept going; but at one time during the night it was doubtful if we
should reach Hong-Kong, as the water was rising to near the stoke-hole
fire-pits. We hung on all night, however, and reached Hong-Kong at nine
next morning.
The remembrance of that evening and night, while we were steaming
down, is heart-rending. It was dead calm, and the cries of the wounded
were unbearable. Many were calling for their relations and friends;
others would rise up in their beds, and then throw themselves down in
despair. Several times I went on to the sponson to have their piteous
cries drowned in the noise of the paddle wheels.
Poor fellows, who had been scorched terribly from explosions of
boats’ magazines, were enveloped in wadding. Some of them sank during
the night from exhaustion: though covered in wadding from head to
foot, they found no respite from their agonies. There was a nice
young fellow, a mate of the _Tribune_, who had a grape shot through
his lungs. It was touching to hear him talking to his coxswain, who
knelt by his side, fanning him the while. The chief subject of his
conversation was his poor mother. He also sank during the early hours
of morning. When daylight broke our decks presented a sorry sight. It
was painful to have renewed the scenes of suffering which the darkness
had mitigated. Some were soon to die; others were in great pain; but
generally all now seemed more still, and, except for the noise of the
paddle wheels, a sort of silence came over us as day dawned: the weary
were more at rest. I shall never forget that night. I snatched an hour
or two’s sleep; but one and all of us did what we could to help the
surgeons, and it was a relief when the dead bodies and the wounded were
taken out alongside the hospital ship and our decks were washed down.
We repaired our shot holes, coaled, and, as soon as possible, returned
to the front that same evening. Next day we took up officers from the
ships to see the scene of the fight of the 1st of June. Some Chinamen
were already trying to raise their guns sunken in the junks; but a few
shots sent them flying. We found we had smashed them up terribly. It
was interesting to seek out details of where we had been only three
days before, and of what we had done in certain localities; also to
note how the Chinese had placed their stakes, many of which were shot
away--only the stumps left.
Again, how extraordinary it was that we had not lost more men! An
action like this--(I verily believe that during the twelve hours it
lasted it could not have been hotter)--is a pretty good test of British
pluck. I can conscientiously say that I did not see the slightest
hesitation in any man from beginning to end. Even when the boats were
fairly beaten off, and Keppel had to retire for reinforcements, there
was no hurry while retiring. The men paddled back at leisure, and took
their licking calmly.
On one occasion there was rather a rush on board to quench thirsts;
but that was only natural.
The _Hong-Kong_ was a large target; but our interest was so much
centred on firing good shots, and in watching the boats amid the smoke
ahead of us, that, while the firing was hottest, we all felt quite
excited, and redoubled our efforts. I enjoyed planting the rockets into
them: you can make excellent practice when your craft is still.