The battles of the world

by J. Douglas Borthwick

Yes, we were there, masters of the capital of China—at the very end of the map of the world—at the point which appears to schoolboy minds the limit of creation. We held the massive four-storied keep which frowns like a line-of-battle ship above the Gate of Peace; our troops and field artillery were actually on the walls which commanded the whole of the interior of the city, and they could move to any point along the fifty feet road which the summit of the wall presents. The walls and gates adjoining, together with some few larger double-storied buildings, were the only objects visible from our position varying the universal dun-colour of the city houses and enclosing walls. The broad street which leads from our gate into the city was packed with a dense crowd, anxious to make out the foreigners, and indulging in sonorous “Ei Yaws” at every novelty which met their wondering eyes. Electrified indeed were the Celestials when the bands of a French regiment, and of our 67th and 99th, struck up within the gateway, and guards presented their clanging arms as the Generals rode by; but the climax was reached when Desborough’s guns were spurted up the steep stone ramps which lead from the base to the summit of the wall, fifty feet in height, drawn by six horses of fabulous stature, and driven by the terrible barbarians who eat their enemies.

The surrender was carried out in good faith; but the appearance on the walls of guns of heavy calibre, evidently recently moved into positions whence our batteries were observed, spoke either of divided counsels or of tardy resignation on the part of our enemies.

Still our success was insufficient. No retribution had been exacted for the violation of the flag of truce, and for the murder of our countrymen, and no one seemed to feel certain whether a treaty was to be obtained or not. It was useless to demand the surrender of the persons who had instigated the barbarous treatment of the prisoners, for they were known to be very near the person of the Emperor, and there was therefore no chance of our getting the real offenders. An atonement in money, for the iniquities perpetrated, though repugnant to our feelings, appeared to be the only kind of demand with which the Chinese Government, humiliated and beaten as it was, could be expected to comply. The readiest means of obtaining a treaty was obviously to remain at Pekin until we got it; but the French Commander refused positively to detain his troops at the capital after the 1st November, and the English General was greatly indisposed to incur the risk of keeping his force there through the winter, in the absence of complete and timely arrangements for provisionment, which it was considered the advanced period of the season rendered impracticable.

Accordingly, on the 18th October, an ultimatum was addressed by the plenipotentiaries to Prince Koung, requiring him to reply by the morning of the 20th, whether, after paying, as a necessary preliminary to further negotiations, a sum of money in atonement for the murders committed, he would on an early day sign the convention already agreed upon? His Excellency was told that the Summer Palace, which had been partially plundered before the fate of the prisoners was known, would now be entirely destroyed, that its ruins might present a lasting mark of the abhorrence of the British Government at the violation of the law of nations which had been committed. He was also told, that in case of refusal to comply with the demands now made, the Imperial Palace of Pekin would be captured, plundered and burned.

In support of the ultimatum, the 1st Division of the British force, with cavalry, proceeded on the 18th and 19th to complete the plunder and destruction of the Summer Palace, whose smoke, driven by the northerly wind, hung over Pekin, whilst its ashes were wafted into the very streets of the capital. The French declined to take any part in this act of punishment—first, because they thought the palace had already been destroyed on their quitting it; and further, they feared that this demonstration would frighten the Chinese out of all hope of making any treaty at all.

The result showed that not one-fourth of the Imperial pavilions which constitute the Summer Palace had been even visited in the first instance, much less burned; and great booty was acquired by the troops employed as well as by the members of the embassy, navy, and staff, who were able to accompany the force. And so salutary was the effect produced on the advisers of the Imperial crown, that a letter acceding to all demands was received at daylight on the 20th, to the renewed disappointment of the 2nd Division, who again were under arms for the assault.

On the 22nd, the atonement-money, amounting to £100,000, was paid; and on the 24th, her Majesty’s Plenipotentiary, accompanied by the Commander-in-Chief, and escorted by a division of the army, entered in state and triumph the gates of the dim, mysterious city. The Ambassador was received by a deputation of Mandarins, who accompanied Lord Elgin to the hall, three miles distant, at the far side of the Tartar city, where the Prince Koung, surrounded by the principal officers of state, awaited his arrival.

At five o’clock that afternoon, ratifications of the treaty of 1858 were duly exchanged by the representatives of the sovereigns, and a convention signed, which, commencing with a recital of the Emperor’s regret at the occurrences at the Peiho Forts in 1858, declares Tientsin a free port, and thereby opens the Peiho to within seventy miles of Pekin for the traffic of the world. The provisions of the convention permit free emigration of Chinese, with their wives and families, to all parts of the world, and transfer a territory at Cowloon, opposite Hong Kong, where our troops were encamped in 1860, to the British Crown. An indemnity of three millions sterling to the British is guaranteed; and stipulation is made for the establishment of a British force at Tientsin, until the terms are fulfilled. A portion of the indemnity is to be paid 31st, December, 1860, whereon Chusan is to be evacuated by the English and French troops. But no provision is made for the evacuation of Canton, to which the French are at present understood to be disinclined to agree. The remainder of the indemnity is to be paid by periodical instalments of one-fifth of the gross revenue of the customs of China.

After signing the convention, Lord Elgin expressed a hope that the treaty would inaugurate friendly relations between the powers. Prince Koung replied that he himself had been about to utter the same words; and acknowledging that foreign affairs had hitherto been greatly mismanaged, observed, that as their administration was now exclusively placed in his hands, he had no doubt their future management would be more satisfactory.