Ch 19 - The Western Foothold in AsiaThe Third China WarBritish and French forces marched on Beijing from Tianjin to enforce China's adherence to the Treaties of Tianjin. Defeated and humiliated by the West, China signed the Convention of Beijing, which granted expanded economic and territorial concessions to the West and ensnared the Asian giant in an an ironclad treaty system. Throughout the mid-nineteenth century, Chinese officials operated under a policy that could best be described as: "cover up and fill up; drift along and take it easy." At the height of the Opium Wars, Emperor Wenzong's two most trusted advisors effectively hung a "do not disturb" sign on the door to the Imperial Court. The loss of the Dagu Forts and the allied occupation of Tianjin, just 60 miles from Beijing, represented a serious threat. The Imperial Court hurriedly sent Grand Secretary Guiliang, Governor Hangfu and Hangki to Tianjin with instructions to bargain for time and try to halt further allied advances. Lord Elgin and Baron Gros agreed to meet the Chinese envoys and sent diplomatic assistants Harry Parkes and Thomas Wade to present the Allied terms. The men held a series of meetings and discussions that seemed to be going well, but when the time came to sign an agreement, it became apparent that none of the Chinese envoys had the emperor's official Seal of State, nor did any have the authority to agree to anything. The Chinese had reverted to their old trick of delaying to bargain for time, trying to keep the Allies in Tianjin until winter arrived, hoping the onset of cold weather would drive them away. Lord Elgin had played this game before and meant to convince the emperor that when terms were accepted, even under duress, they must be kept. Elgin and Gros quickly left Tianjin to avoid giving the Chinese any time to prepare new defenses and advanced toward Beijing along the Hai River under the close guard of 400 to 500 soldiers. Elgin ignored the almost daily pleas from the Chinese to halt his advance, replying that because they had tried to mislead him, he would not think of signing any agreement until he reached the city of Dongzhou, just ten miles southeast of Beijing.
Harry Parkes returned to Dongzhou under a white flag of truce, escorted by a few dozen troopers of the King's Dragoon Guards and Fane's Horse Cavalry. After Parkes and his party, including a correspondent from The Times, inspected the proposed campsite near the walled-town of Zhanjiawan on the flat plain between the main road and the Hai River, they were escorted on to their quarters in a temple at Dongzhou. Parkes again met with Commissioner Tsai and his staff to make a few final arrangements. Parkes read Lord Elgin's letter to Prince Tsai accepting the conditions of a convention and expressing his desire there would be no delay in being received at Beijing. The Commissioner became almost offensive in tone and refused further negotiations until Parkes agreed to reduce the size of Lord Elgin's escort party and defer any discussion of terms for a convention. Prince Tsai did agree to establish and provision a camp for the British and French near Zhanjiawan and issue a proclamation to announce that peace had been established between the Emperor of China and the Allies. When Parkes and Wade returned to Zhanjiawan the next day with the Allied advance party, they were surprised to find Chinese troops busily occupying the area, building gun emplacements and stationing cavalry nearby in an obvious attempt to entrap the entire Allied force when it arrived. Parkes could not locate Prince Tsai, who, having hatched the plot, was already on his way to Beijing to report his success. Despite riding under a flag of truce, the British and French party was suddenly ambushed and nearly decimated by Prince Sange Linsin, still smarting from his earlier defeat at the Dagu Forts. Only two officers, a few cavalry troops and two civilians managed to escape with their lives and return with a report of what happened. The Chinese took over thirty French and British prisoners, including Harry Parkes, the very embodiment of British imperialism, the chief instigator of trouble in Canton and probably the most hated foreigner in China. The Allied prisoners were jailed at Yuan Ming Yuan, where many of them died from torture, physical abuse and infectious diseases. News of the Zhanjiawan ambush and the horrifying treatment of prisoners by the Imperial Court virtually ensured some form of punitive action. His patience at an end, Lord Elgin ordered an immediate assault on Beijing. With the French on the right, the British infantry and artillery in the center, and the cavalry on the left, the Allies swept up the Hai River from Tianjin toward Dongzhou. Emperor Wenzong, his family and the entire Imperial Court hurriedly fled Beijing to the fortified city of Chengde in a wild and rugged mountain pass on the China-Manchurian border one hundred miles northeast of Beijing. Prince Gong (Yi Xin), the emperor's twenty-eight-year-old younger brother, and grand councilors Guiliang and Wenxiang were left to deal with Lord Elgin and Baron Gros and take charge of the peace settlement. During the intense fighting along the advance route, Manchu bannermen degenerated to a point where they could no longer defend the dynasty. On the morning of September 22, the day after French troops defeated an elite Chinese Imperial Guard unit in a bloody fight at the stone bridge near Balijiao, Prince Gong sent a flag of truce to the Allied encampment at Zhanjiawan with word that the emperor would cease fighting if the Allies agreed to restore the Dagu forts and leave China. Elgin replied that no terms would be discussed until all prisoners were returned. If they were not, he would immediately storm Beijing; a difficult decision, since General Hope Grant did not want to advance without the heavy weapons - 8-inch guns, howitzers and 8-inch mortars - needed to breach the city's massive outer walls. Meanwhile, Prince Gong, having already threatened to kill the prisoners if the Allies attacked, moved Harry Parkes and H.B. Loch, Lord Elgin's private secretary, to comfortable quarters near Beijing's Anding Gate, where they were used as a conduit for communications with the Allies. While planning the final attack on Beijing, Elgin lost contact with General de Montaubon's French force on his left, which had moved a few miles north of the city. As soon as de Montaubon learned that Lieutenant-General Grant intended to march on Yuan Ming Yuan and the Emperor's Summer Palace At the end of the wall, where it turned sharply to the north, the French got their first view of a broad expanse of water through which the road continued along a raised, tree-lined causeway. At the far end of the causeway stood an impressive Chinese temple, well-shaded by tall trees. General Jamin established his headquarters camp near the temple, while the main body of the French force under General de Montauban set up camp on the opposite side of the road in a grove of trees. Just beyond their camp lay the impressive grand entrance to Yuan Ming Yuan, guarded on either side by a pair of colossal metal lions sitting atop granite pedestals. Except for their size, the bronze-colored statues attracted little serious attention from the French, who assumed they were made from the same bronze alloy commonly found in China. Only after returning to Shanghai some months later did the French learn what nearly all China knew; that the two massive gold statues were only painted a bronze color. The stone and timber gateway to Yuan Ming Yuan sat at one end of a large courtyard, enclosed on three sides by richly decorated guardhouses. About twenty poorly-armed eunuchs, the sole remaining guardians of the palace grounds, rushed out to meet the French, shouting, "Don't commit sacrilege. Don't come within the sacred precincts of his Majesty's palace." They made a brief pretense of resistance, but the French quickly disposed of them and burst open the doors, exposing the Qing emperor's residence to "the sacrilegious gaze of the barbarians." Entering the palace grounds, French troops discovered a vast, enchantingly beautiful park of hills, gardens and artificial lakes, recreations of China's finest landscapes. They immediately began to plunder the imperial halls, palaces and over 200 summer houses and other royal structures scattered throughout Yuan Ming Yuan Daybreak the following morning literally arrived with a bang, as twenty-one cannon fired from high atop the earthen ramparts near the British encampment. The cannonade and the large camp fires that had burned all night signaled both French forces and British cavalry units in the area where the Allied headquarters had been established. A small cavalry patrol set out near dawn with orders to locate and establish contact with the French, who were soon discovered looting the summer palace, about two miles off the British cavalry's left flank. Lt General Hope Grant and Lord Elgin rode out to meet with General Montaubon, who assured them that looting was forbidden, even as French soldiers continued helping themselves to all the jade, jewels, bronze pieces, furs, silks and chinaware they could carry. In the end, the British agreed to let it go on in exchange for a share of the auctioned booty. Lieutenant-General Grant could have easily allowed each of his regiments to ride out one by one and join the French looters, but the sorry state of the French army and fresh memories of British atrocities committed after the capture of Dehli, India, forced General Grant to prohibit his men from leaving camp. Shortly after visiting Yuan Ming Yuan on October 7, Grant ordered all British officers to turn in every piece of booty taken from the palaces to British "prize agents," officers who would then sell it on the spot by public auction and distribute the proceeds among the British troops. The auction went on for two days and proved to be a source of great amusement to all who attended. Men eagerly bid against each another, often paying a ridiculously high price for an item that, had it been given to them for nothing, they might have thrown away. With the approach of colder weather, not to mention a rumor that Lord Elgin intended to station a garrison division at Beijing for the winter, fur coats and all articles of warm clothing were hotly-contested items. The novel public auction raised about $123,000. It also kept the British from looting, maintained military discipline and, in the end, everyone seemed pleased with the results. After General Grant renounced his claim to any of the money and Major Generals Sir John Michel and Sir Robert Napier refused to participate, the prize agents issued every British private a share equal to $17, or about £4 Sterling. Among the items taken from the palace were the gifts presented to the Qing Emperor by Lord Macartney during his unsuccessful mission in 1793. French soldiers discovered numerous watches of all shapes, sizes and ages and sold them individually to British officers. Even Lord Elgin's 1858 Treaty of Tianjin was found lying about with other official papers in Emperor Wenzong's private room. The loot also included official documents, books of Song Dynasty, Buddhist classics, and the four complete volumes of Chinese Classics. Eleven horses and some fine saddles recognized as having belonged to Mr. Harry Parkes' ill-fated party were found in one of the courtyards. One of the more unusual discoveries encountered at the Summer Palace was a curious breed of small dog bred to resemble a Chinese heraldic lion. Some British dog-fancier took a number of the dogs back to England, where Captain Hart Dunne of the Wiltshire Regiment presented a "Pekinese" lapdog to Queen Victoria. The little gift from China, aptly named "Lootie," enjoyed the run of the Queen's palace until its death in 1872. Major Charles George Gordon, Royal Engineers, described the aftermath of the French rampage following his visit to the palace grounds on October 8: "You would scarcely conceive the magnificence of this residence or the tremendous devastation the French have committed. The Throne Room was lined with ...as much splendor and civilisation [sic] as you would see at Windsor [castle] ....the French have smashed everything in the most wanton way." With tensions mounting, Hangki convinced Prince Gong to release the surviving Allied prisoners. On October 8, Harry Parkes and a few of the prisoners were released. The remaining fourteen men, less than half the original number, were handed over the following day in a physical state beyond description. Lord Elgin knew that demanding a large sum of money for that crime would fall directly on the Chinese people and their ability to pay any increased indemnity was problematical. An Allied demand to surrender those who actually murdered the Allied prisoners would have resulted in the deliverance of a few petty, probably innocent, officials whom it would have been as difficult to convict as it would have been unjust to punish. General Sange Linsin was most responsible for the crimes against Allied prisoners, but demanding his surrender for trial would have been asking for what everyone knew the Chinese Government would not and probably could not grant. The French were so busy looting and despoiling the Summer Palace they did not move toward Beijing until October 9. Lord Elgin set his forces in place for the siege of Beijing and gave the Chinese until midnight on October 13 to surrender. Heavy artillery was moved into position opposite the massive Anting Gate with the intent of demolishing it with shellfire unless the Chinese surrendered. At 11:30 p.m. on the night of October 13, with Allied guns primed and ready to fire into the forty foot high battlement, the Anting Gate suddenly opened and the Allies marched into the city. Angered by the discovery that there was no Imperial Court with whom he could negotiate, Lord Elgin seriously considered replacing the entire Manchu dynasty with a Chinese dynasty and burning the imperial palaces as punishment for the detention of Harry Parkes and the mistreatment of prisoners of war. The Russian and French plenipotentiaries, General Ignatiev and Baron Gros, dissuaded him from that course of action. Still, they felt the Manchu rulers alone were answerable for the murder of allied prisoners and they alone should suffer the consequences. The mandarin's greatest vulnerability was his pride. Lord Elgin's knowledge of human nature and the Chinese character led him to finally decide that since the Chinese viewed everything belonging to the emperor as a measure of his supremacy, the destruction of the beautiful Yuan Ming Yuan would be the most devastating of all blows which could be struck against the Qing Empire's inflated national sense of supremacy. Elgin believed the destruction of the Summer Palace, the scene of the unspeakable tortures inflicted on Allied prisoners, would not only offer the strongest proof of England's superior strength, but would disabuse the Chinese of their belief in the emperor's universal sovereignty. British interpreters prepared special proclamations printed in Chinese that listed the reasons for the destruction of the Yuan Ming Yuan which were posted in every public place the Allies could reach in the hope it would prevent Chinese authorities from accusing the Allies of destroying the Summer Palace solely for the sake of plunder. Major-General Sir John Michel led the British 1st Division from the Allied encampment near Beijing to Yuan Ming Yuan, where he proceeded to carry out Lord Elgin's orders. On October 18, 1860, the once beautiful grounds containing the emperor's royal palaces were set ablaze. Flames raged across Yuan Ming Yuan for nearly two days destroying eighty percent of the buildings and obliterating centuries of Chinese artistry. The famous "three mountains and five gardens," including Yuan Ming Yuan, choked under dense clouds of black, heavy smoke, soot and ash. A gentle northwest wind carried burning embers into the city of Beijing, where they drifted into the streets as silent, unmistakable reminders of the destruction and retribution underway at Yuan Ming Yuan. Royal palaces were reduced to scattered piles of burned timber and a few blackened gables. Only stone structures such as the Bronze Pavilion, the Marble Boat and the the tile archway at the Sea of Wisdom survived the inferno. Charred trunks marked the passing of luxuriant pine trees, many over one hundred years old. By the evening of October 19, Yuan Ming Yuan, the Summer Palace and gardens reminiscent of a magical land from a fairy tale ceased to exist. Ironically, after robbing all the treasure, books, paintings and imperial clothing they could find, the French objected to the British coup de grace and hinted that the complete destruction of the palaces would be an act of barbarism. Yet it was French troops who had already stripped the Summer Palace of its beauty and wealth by the removal or reckless destruction of everything valuable within its walls and who had left the British little more than the bare shells of buildings on which to wreak their vengeance. Major Charles Gordon, whose Royal Engineers participated in the burning of Yuan Ming Yuan, said, "We accordingly went out, and, after pillaging it, burned the whole place, destroying in a Vandal-like manner most valuable property which would not be replaced for four millions. You can scarcely imagine the beauty and magnificence of the palaces we burnt. It made one's heart sore to burn them; in fact, these palaces were so huge, and we were so pressed for time, that we could not plunder them carefully. It was wretchedly demoralizing work for an army. Everybody was wild for plunder. ...It was a scene of utter destruction which passes my description. The people are civil, but I think the grandees hate us, as they must after what we did to the Palace." Lord Elgin wrote a letter to British Foreign Secretary Lord John Russell on October 25, 1860, providing some justification for destroying the Palace. It was necessary, he said, "to discover some act of retribution and punishment," short of attacking Beijing itself, that would "make the blow fall on the Emperor." Although Elgin believed that Emperor Wenzong was clearly responsible for the murder of the British envoys, he did not want to precipitate an action that so terrified Prince Gong as to drive him from the field. The destruction of the Summer Palace left the Beijing authorities awestruck, proving that Lord Elgin's last letter was no idle threat, and sent an unmistakable warning of what they might expect in the Forbidden City unless they accepted Allied terms. Russian ambassador General Nikolai Ignatiev served a valued role as mediator between Lord Elgin, Baron Gros and Prince Gong during the critical month of October 1860. The destruction of the Summer Palace had so terrified Prince Gong that he nearly fled the capital as his brother had done. Ignatiev intervened and persuaded him that unless he remained in Beijing and accepted Allied terms he would face certain destruction. On October 24, at a meeting with Prince Gong, Guiliang and Wenxiang, Lord Elgin dictated the terms for the Convention of Beijing
Prince Gong, Guiliang and Wenxiang agreed to the treaty terms, not as a matter of principle, but because the imminent crisis forced them to do so. With the signing of the Convention of Beijing, Tianjin was made a treaty port and Britain extracted a ninety-nine year leasehold on Stone Cutters Island and Kowloon Point (The City of Nine Hills), the tongue of land that juts from the mainland into Hong Kong Bay and dominates the British colony of Hong Kong. Both France and Britain forced China to pay compensation for the war from its customs duties. Even Portugal benefited from the treaty, finally gaining a confirmation of its hold on Macao. So it was done, and with the peace settlement in hand, Allied troops began to evacuate Beijing on November 8. On November 14, less than a week after the Allies departed China, Ignatiev secured a Supplementary Treaty of Beijing that legalized Russia's previous acquisitions under the Treaty of Aigun. Russia won exclusive sovereignty over the Maritime Province, the territory between the Ussuri River and the East Sea. In addition, the cities of Urga and Kashgar were opened to Russian trade. Thus, the Russians acquired some 300,000 to 400,000 square miles of territory and some impressive commercial concessions without having had a soldier in China and without firing a single shot. With its most-favored-nation treatment, Russia enjoyed all the benefits of the British and French treaties. By the time China's statesmen had discovered who and what they were dealing with, it was already too late. Through a series of violations of sovereignty and a seemingly endless number of concessions to the West, China's loosely held outer layer of territory was peeled away leaving the great core of the Celestial Kingdom exposed to the world for all to see. Spurred by their successes in China, Britain and France began expanding their colonial interests in Southeast Asia. At the cost of another war with China, France secured for itself the provinces of Cochin-China (1862-1867) and a protectorate over Annam and Tonkin (1882). Great Britain annexed Lower Burma, another of China's vassal states and by 1885 added Upper Burma to its colonial rule and extended protectorate status over Nepal and Bhutan to the north. The sad legacy of Western intervention in China during the mid-nineteenth came not so much from the fact the West gained a strong foothold in Asia - that was inevitable - but from the thinking behind it and the way in which it was done. At the time, and for years afterwards, there were Westerners who, perhaps to justify their actions, claimed these empire-building adventures were actually for China's own good. The West actually believed the introduction of machines and industry and Western ideas and commerce would improve the lives of the Chinese and thus profit the entire country. It never happened. At the time, it could not happen. In the first place, China was just too big and Western influence was confined principally to Hong Kong, Macao, Canton, and the treaty ports. In the second place, foreign merchants never really learned or understood the nature of the Chinese market
By 1860, the ancient Celestial Kingdom of China lay defeated and humiliated by the West, ensnared in an ironclad treaty system. Step by step, the maritime powers of Europe and the United States advanced north from Canton to Shanghai to Beijing. As they moved, each vigorously pursued its own particular commercial interests, seeking economic concessions from China through the creation of treaty ports and the expansion of trade. Meanwhile, the vast land power of tsarist Russia pushed south toward Beijing from the Siberian-Manchurian border in pursuit of not only commerce, but territory. The combined advance of these two powerful forces caught the declining Qing dynasty in a grand pincer movement that constituted the major source of foreign pressure on China in the century that followed.
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With the main body of the Allied force delayed in the south waiting for supplies to be brought upriver, Harry Parkes and Thomas Wade rode ahead to Dongzhou to inspect the roads and living quarters available and to negotiate preliminary arrangements for their reception and the ratification of the Treaty of Tianjin. After meeting with the new High Imperial Commissioner, Prince Tsai, Parkes and Wade returned to the main advance with preliminary arrangements apparently all but settled. The plan was for the Allied armies to advance to an encampment just 10 miles from Dongzhou, while Lord Elgin and Baron Gros continued on to Beijing with a large Chinese escort.
