Onto this gloomy stage in mid-July, 1808, strode the so-called Chinese mandarin, Punqua Wingchong, and before two months had passed this Oriental fraud had half the country hooting with derisive laughter and the other half red-faced with rage.
Punqua Wingchong. It’s a name to remember in American history because he helped to bamboozle a President of the United States in one of the gamiest confidence games ever pulled against a trusting Chief Executive. But he was only the puppet; the man who pulled the strings behind the scenery was John Jacob Astor, the merchant prince.
The hoax began to unfold in June, 1808, when Astor and the Boston firm of J. & T. H. Perkins applied to the government for permission to send a ship to Canton to bring back certain property allegedly owned by the applicants. The government refused to lift the embargo for such a venture and as a matter of policy rejected the application.
The rejection would have discouraged the average merchant, but John Jacob Astor did not build his fortune by being an average man. Soon after the application was refused, Senator Samuel L. Mitchill of New York was told a disturbing story. An anonymous informant advised him that a distinguished Chinese mandarin, who divided his time between New York City and Nantucket, was the unfortunate victim of the shipping embargo. It was said that the mandarin, Punqua Wingchong, had made the long and arduous voyage from Canton to collect several large debts owing to his grandfather’s estate. Then he had been caught by the embargo and had been unable to return to his homeland to participate in mourning rites for his venerable grandfather, who had died suddenly.
It was suggested to Mitchill that the situation was one which quite possibly could create ill feeling between the governments of the United States and China if Wingchong chose to blame the Jefferson administration for the predicament he found himself in, being a virtual prisoner in a foreign land. Wingchong was reputed to have considerable influence among the government class of China, and this influence could be used against American traders in the future if he were not permitted to return home.
The journals of the time were not clear as to whether the Senator ever met Wingchong face to face. In all likelihood he did not. But he was moved to such sympathy by the pictured plight of the hapless mandarin that he penned a personal appeal asking President Jefferson to intervene. The Senator had a distinguished background in science and literature and was a professor of natural history in the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York City. It was later to be said that Senator Mitchill was “strangely deficient in that useful commodity called common sense,” but his motives seemed sincere enough when he wrote to the President on July 12, saying:
Sir:
Punqua Wingchong, a Chinese merchant, will be the bearer of this note of introduction. He came to New York about nine months ago, on business of a commercial nature, and has resided during that time, part time, partly here and partly in Nantucket. Having completed the object of his visit to the United States, he is desirous of returning to Canton, where the affairs of his family, and particularly funeral obsequies of his grandfather, require his solemn attention.
This stranger is represented to me as a man of respectability and good standing in his country; and is consequently entitled to a corresponding regard and treatment in ours.
The chief object of his visit to Washington is to solicit the means of departure, in some way or other to China, but he feels at the same time a strong desire to see the chief executive officer of the United States. He will be accompanied by Mr. Palmer, an inhabitant of New York, who will aid him in stating his request and explaining his meaning. This gentleman, in addition to many other valuable qualities, possesses admirable skill in acquiring languages; and he is perhaps already master of more living tongues than any person among us—as an evidence of which he has already made considerable progress in China.