I. THE OPIUM TRADE.
Its increase caused alarm to Chinese Government by throwing the balance of trade against China—English manufacturers deplored the same fact—Drain of silver—Government opposition to the importation of opium—Official participation in the trade—The reign of sham—Illustrated by Mr Hunter—Captain Elliot volunteers to prevent smuggling—Rebuffed by Canton authorities—The principal patrons of the opium trade—Imperial Government and the opium traffic—Proposals to legalise it—The Empress—Commissioner Lin appointed to suppress trade—His uncompromising proceedings at Canton—Imprisonment of the foreign merchants, and of the British envoy—Surrender of opium by Captain Elliot.
Commerce itself had also for some time been a source of disquietude, and it is an interesting circumstance that it was the same feature of it which caused anxiety to both sides. The balance of trade was against China, which in the year 1838 had to provide bullion to the amount of upwards of £2,000,000 sterling to pay for the excess of imports over exports. English manufacturers deplored the fact that the purchasing power of China was restricted by the paucity of her commodities suitable for foreign markets, while the Chinese authorities saw with genuine alarm a yearly drain of what they deemed the life-blood of their national wealth; for not only was silver and gold bullion exported in what to them were large amounts, but the vessels which brought raw cotton and opium from India were frequently ballasted for the return voyage with the copper coinage of the country. Crude, arbitrary, and quite ineffectual devices were resorted to by the Chinese for the arrest or mitigation of the leakage of the precious metal. Opium, being the commodity which the people most imperatively demanded, was always paid for in hard cash, while ordinary merchandise might be bartered against Chinese produce. It is not therefore difficult to understand how, without prejudice to moral or political considerations, the article opium should have become so conspicuous a factor in the agony which preceded the war.
In characterising the relations then subsisting between the Chinese and foreigners as lawless, it is not meant that China is a country governed without law, although it is true that even in the purely domestic administration of the State legality is systematically travestied. But in connection with foreign relations, and almost as a necessity of the case, every trace of legality was obliterated in practice, and the merchants were constantly entangled in a labyrinth of illusions and pitfalls. No regulation was, or was ever intended to be, carried out as promulgated; it was generally something quite different that was aimed at, and it is literally true that the law was more honoured in the breach than in the observance.
Many Chinese eagles swooped on the carcass of foreign trade; various authorities competed for the spoil; and the constantly changing orders were often merely stratagems by which one set of officials sought to steal an advantage over another. The rules of the game were perfectly understood, and the loftiest professions of public duty were the invariable concomitant of the most corrupt practice.
The two principal trade authorities in Canton were the viceroy of the two provinces, and the hoppo, who held an independent commission from Peking as superintendent of the customs. Smuggling was of course systematic. Though there were severe dormant laws against it whereby unwary individuals might on occasion be entrapped, yet the practice was openly carried on in every department of traffic, its chief patrons being the viceroy and the hoppo. The importation of opium was officially prohibited, but no branch of trade was so effectually protected. The depot ships lay in what was regarded as the outer waters of China—that is, the archipelago in the estuary of the Canton river. But the drug was brought to land in the viceroy's own boats and to his profit. The traffic was conducted under a fluctuating arrangement between the native merchants and the authorities, the latter taking frequent occasion to pick quarrels with the former in order to have a pretext for extortion. The fees levied upon the opium-dealers were divided among the officials, but they could never trust each other to deal fairly in the distribution of the takings. By way of check on sharp practice a Chinese war-vessel was in the habit of visiting the receiving ships, taking from them an account of their deliveries, and at the same time making a small levy for the commanders personal behoof, for which a formal receipt was granted.
A new hoppo came to Canton in 1837, and, as had been the custom with his predecessors, he inaugurated his commission by issuing drastic edicts, in concert with the viceroy, against the sale of opium, even going through the form of arresting some of the dealers. This demonstration, like all that had gone before, was merely intended to cover a heavier exaction than had yet been levied. The dealers and boatmen refused the terms, and by way of protest the latter burned their boats. Whereupon the two high officers built boats of their own, which, with the Government ones already employed in the business, brought the whole of the opium to Canton. In this manner was the trade resumed after a temporary stoppage caused by the strike of the dealers and boat-owners against the extortions of the viceroy and hoppo. Nor was there ever any secret in Peking respecting these proceedings. Indeed the occasion of any high official travelling to the capital was always marked by a great enhancement of the market price of opium, of which the official or his retinue invariably carried a large quantity for sale there. This circumstance was published in the trade circulars printed in Canton, without the least concealment of the name of the mandarin under whose protection the drug was transported. The hoppo was, and still is, an imperial protégé, and it was, and is still, perfectly understood that he divides the proceeds of his Canton harvest with his patrons. It is for that purpose that he receives the appointment. And this was a trade proscribed under extreme penalties by imperial edict! It is needless to trace the network of elusion in which the administrative ingenuity of Chinese officialdom was exercised, and the specimen given above may be taken as typical of the system. "Nevertheless, during the year 1838 very serious and determined measures began to be adopted by the Chinese authorities, directed generally against the trade in opium; and imperial edicts threatened death as the punishment for both the dealers in and smokers of the drug."
It is hardly possible outside of China to realise the systematic make-believe under which public affairs are carried on.
Life and business in Canton, says Mr Hunter,[4] was a conundrum as insoluble as the Sphinx; everything worked smoothly by acting in direct opposition to what we were told to do. Certainly we were told to "listen and obey," to "tremble and not by obstinacy and irregularity to court the wrath of the imperial will"! We were reminded from time to time that we were "sojourning in the land on sufferance." We were threatened and re-threatened with the "direst penalties if we sold foreign mud to the people; truly forbearance could no longer be exercised." Yet we continued to sell the drug as usual. Our receiving ships at Lintin must no longer loiter at that anchorage, but "forthwith either come into port or return to their respective countries." The heart of the ruler of all within the Four Seas was indeed full of compassion and had been indulgent to the barbarians. But now no more delay could be granted, "cruisers would be sent to open their irresistible broadsides" upon the foreign ships. Yet in spite of these terrors the ships never budged. We were "forbidden to wander about except three times a-month, and that not without a linguist," but we walked whenever we pleased, and the linguist is the last person we ever saw.
And so on through a long catalogue of prohibitions to the disregard of which the officials themselves were always parties.
We get an exact description also of the mode in which the opium trade was carried on from the pen of Mr Hunter, himself an actor as well as an eyewitness. It furnishes a perfect illustration of the reign of sham which prevails generally in China:—
We anchored on the inside of the island of Namoa close by two English brigs, the Omega and Governor Findlay. Inshore of us were riding at anchor two men-of-war junks, with much bunting displayed; one bore the flag of a foo-tseang or commodore. Knowing the "formalities" to be gone through with the mandarins, we expected a visit from one, and until it was made no Chinese boat would come alongside, nor would a junk, not even a bumboat. We had no sooner furled sails and made everything shipshape, when his "Excellency" approached in his gig—a sort of scow as broad as she was long.... He was received at the gangway by Captain Forster. His manner and bearing were easy and dignified. When cheroots and a glass of wine had been offered, the "commodore" inquired the cause of our anchoring at Namoa. The shroff gave him to understand that the vessel, being on her way from Singapore to Canton, had been compelled, through contrary winds and currents, to run for Namoa to replenish her wood and water. Having listened attentively, the great man said that "any supplies might be obtained, but when they were on board, not a moment must be lost in sailing for Whampoa, as the Great Emperor did not permit vessels from afar to visit any other port." He then gravely pulled from his boot a long red document and handed it to his secretary, that we might be informed of its purport. It was as follows:—
An Imperial Edict.
As the port of Canton is the only one at which outside barbarians are allowed to trade, on no account can they be permitted to wander about to other places in the "Middle Kingdom." The "Son of Heaven," however, whose compassion is as boundless as the ocean, cannot deny to those who are in distress from want of food, through adverse seas and currents, the necessary means of continuing their voyage. When supplied they must no longer loiter, but depart at once. Respect this.
Tao-kuang, 17th year, 6th moon, 4th sun.
This "imperial edict" having been replaced in its envelope and slipped inside of his boot (for service on the chance of another foreign vessel "in distress"), his Excellency arose from his seat, which was a signal for all his attendants to return to the boat, except his secretary. The two were then invited to the cabin to refresh, which being done, we proceeded to business. The mandarin opened by the direct questions, "How many chests have you on board? Are they all for Namoa? Do you go farther up the coast?" Intimating at the same time that there the officers were uncommonly strict, and were obliged to carry out the will of the "Emperor of the Universe," &c. But our answers were equally as clear and prompt, that the vessel was not going north of Namoa, that her cargo consisted of about 200 chests. Then came the question of cumsha, and that was settled on the good old Chinese principle of "all same custom." Everything being thus comfortably arranged, wine drunk, and cheroots smoked, his Excellency said "Kaou-tsze" (I announce my departure).... Chinese buyers came on board freely the moment they saw the "official" visit had been made. A day or two after, several merchant junks stood out from the mainland for the anchorage. As they approached we distinguished a private signal at their mastheads, a copy of which had been furnished to us before leaving Capshuymun. We hoisted ours, the junks anchored close to us, and in a surprisingly short time received from the Rose in their own boats the opium, which had been sold at Canton, and there paid for, deliverable at this anchorage. It was a good illustration of the entire confidence existing between the foreign seller in his factory at Canton and the Chinese buyers, and of a transaction for a breach of any of the conditions of which there existed no legal redress on one side or the other.
MACAO.
From his asylum in Macao Captain Elliot thought he saw an opportunity for making a fresh attempt to ingratiate himself with the Chinese authorities. Disregarding the fact that the only return for his previous efforts at conciliation had been accumulated insult and odious accusations against himself personally, Captain Elliot resolved on trying once more. So, when the opium agitation broke out in 1838-39, he volunteered his assistance in suppressing smuggling in the river. The viceroy, being the head and front of the abuse, spurned the offer, saying, what was perfectly true, that he could stop the traffic himself by a stroke of the pen.
Ignoring the rebuff, Captain Elliot did nevertheless issue an order that "all British-owned schooners, or other vessels habitually or occasionally engaged in the illicit opium traffic, within the Bocca Tigris, should remove before the expiration of three days, and not again return within the Bocca Tigris, being so engaged." And they were at the same time distinctly warned, that if "any British subjects were feloniously to cause the death of a Chinaman in consequence of persisting in the trade within the Bocca Tigris, he would be liable to capital punishment; that no owners of such vessels so engaged would receive any assistance or interposition from the British Government in case the Chinese Government should seize any of them; and that all British subjects employed in these vessels would be held responsible for any consequences which might arise from forcible resistance offered to the Chinese Government, in the same manner as if such resistance were offered to their own or any other Government, in their own or in any foreign country." This gratuitous assumption of the functions of the Chinese executive plunged Captain Elliot into still greater difficulties, and prepared the way for the tragic events which were to follow a year later. In vulgar parlance he "gave himself away" to the Chinese, for in professing to be able to stop opium traffic within the river he tacitly accepted the responsibility of stopping it also in the estuary, where the British depot ships lay at anchor. It was, in fact, the driving home of this responsibility by the Chinese which was the apparent occasion of the war. For it is certain that during his three years of office as representative of the Crown of England Captain Elliot had given no provocation to the Chinese, nor had he in any way withstood their aggression.
But a sudden change now came over the scene. The opium question had been for some time debated in the imperial counsels with considerable earnestness, the issue turning on the alternatives of suppressing or legalising the traffic. It seems likely that in those deliberations the reigning emperor, Tao-kuang, played a very secondary part; indeed as an active factor in the government of the country he appears to have been of little more account than his successors have been. He is described as an amiable but weak man, sensible of the difficulties of his country, but misinformed with regard to them by the favourites around him. The most interesting personality about the Imperial Court at that time appears to have been the empress, who had raised herself to that exalted position by her talents as well as by her fascinations. Though her career was a very short one, she exercised a potent influence on affairs throughout the whole empire. She was credited with a rare power of judging men and of selecting them for offices of trust. She was a reformer of abuses and a true patriot; but what was most remarkable, considering the order of ideas which surrounded her, she held liberal views as to the extension of foreign intercourse, and was at the head of the party which was in favour of legalising the opium traffic. A memorial addressed to her urging this measure was submitted by the emperor to the governor of Canton, Tang, who with his colleagues reported on it favourably. The success of the empress's policy enraged her enemies and stirred them to the most strenuous efforts to compass her fall. The emperor, it is said, remained neutral in this strife. The opposition party prevailed, gaining over the emperor to their side while he was smarting from the grief caused by the death of his own son from opium, an event which enlisted his personal feelings against the drug.
So far, however, had the question been carried, that the legalisation of the opium trade was fully anticipated by Captain Elliot up to the very hour that the storm burst.
The final decision of the Government was to put an end to the trade, for which purpose they sent an imperial commissioner to Canton, armed with full authority to carry out the emperor's edicts. He arrived at his post, March 10, 1839. Commissioner Lin, the best known character, with the exception of Captain Elliot himself, in connection with the war, was a man of uncommon energy and resolution, and was therefore in some respects well chosen for the extraordinary task which was imposed upon him. He was a native of Fukien province, an official of high standing, having been Governor-General of the Central Provinces, the Hu Kwang. He was now appointed Governor-General of the Two Kwang and Imperial Commissioner for dealing with the opium question. As a Chinese administrator he had been popular, and was no doubt possessed of many high qualities.[5] It is possible that had he taken time to study the foreign question with which he had to deal, and had he not been betrayed by his too easy initial successes, he might have been the means of placing the foreign relations of his country on a footing of mutual accommodation. A reasonable man would have perceived the utter impossibility of preventing the Chinese people from purchasing a commodity for which they had an overmastering desire. He showed great ignorance of human nature in proposing to break his countrymen of opium-smoking within a year, after which time offenders were to be beheaded.[6] This was but a sample of his violence and of his incapacity to see two sides of a question. It must be remembered, however, that he had undertaken to carry out the emperor's instructions, and it is difficult to pronounce what amount of latitude he might have allowed himself in the interpretation of them.
His proceedings were of an uncompromising character most unusual with Chinese. Possessing full authority, he exercised it to the utmost, terrorising all the local officials into absolute subservience. The governor of Canton, himself deeply implicated in the opium traffic, a fact well known to the Imperial Commissioner, was constrained to save himself by affecting the utmost zeal in executing the commissioner's behests. Having thus disposed of all the opposition with which Chinese high officials have usually to reckon from their subordinates, Lin gave the rein to his headstrong temper, and instead of effecting reform, plunged his country into a war which shattered the imperial prestige.
Within three weeks of Lin's arrival in Canton the drastic measures against foreigners, and particularly against the opium trade, culminated in his imprisoning the whole of the merchants within their factories at Canton, menacing them with further outrages on their person. At this crisis Captain Elliot, having left his residence at Macao, made his way under difficulties to Canton, that he might share the captivity of his countrymen and act as their head and mouthpiece. Having thus got the superintendent of trade into his power, Commissioner Lin preferred most extravagant demands upon him, including the delivery to the Chinese of all opium owned by British merchants, which amounted to 20,000 chests valued at upwards of £2,000,000. The imprisoned merchants had no choice but to yield to the demand made upon them by the representative of the British Crown; and as the recent agitations had interfered greatly with the course of trade, their assent to the terms was no doubt soothed by the reflection that they were making a clearance sale of their goods to a solvent purchaser, her Majesty's Government. They issued their delivery orders for the opium on the 27th March 1839. It is to the credit of Commissioner Lin that in a memorial to the throne he commended the loyalty of certain of the British merchants.[7]
This grand concession to the demand of Commissioner Lin was but the climax of all the antecedent steps of British submission. There was no haggling, but a prompt and unconditional surrender in the following terms:—
Elliot to the Imperial Commissioner.
Canton, March 27, 1839.
Elliot, &c., &c., has now the honour to receive for the first time your Excellency's commands, bearing date the 26th day of March, issued by the pleasure of the Great Emperor, to deliver over into the hands of honourable officers to be appointed by your Excellency all the opium in the hands of British subjects.
Elliot must faithfully and completely fulfil these commands, and he has now respectfully to request that your Excellency will be pleased to indicate the point to which the ships of his nation, having opium on board, are to proceed, so that the whole may be delivered up.
The faithful account of the same shall be transmitted as soon as it is ascertained.
Captain Elliot did not even give himself time to verify the figures, and in his haste committed himself to the delivery of more opium than was actually in being. The consequence was that he could not deliver until fresh importations arrived, when he was obliged to enter the market as an opium merchant and purchase sufficient to enable him to fulfil his engagement.