Everywhere in the streets blind beggars abounded, each armed with two flat discs of bamboo; the sound produced by constantly beating them against each other became decidedly unpleasant by their very numbers, rendering conversation impossible. Whether a great part of their blindness was due to disease or to artificial means, we had no means of ascertaining.
The Tartar suburb or quarter of Canton comprised narrow streets paved with flag stones, intersected by narrow canals, spanned at intervals by bridges after the style of the “willow pattern plate”; the houses of no more than one storey high, for the reason that in China it is considered pretentious for a man to raise himself above his fellows. The odours that everywhere prevailed exceeded, in variety and intensity, all that had heretofore been experienced. The people, old and young, male and female, poor in circumstances as many of them appeared to be, looked physically hale, strong, and healthy. Traversing the breadth of the city, we arrived at “The Heights,” on the slope of which stood the Yamen of the notorious Yeh; near thereto, “The Five-Storied Pagoda,” now occupied by French troops, and above it waved the Tricolour; while in a series of bell tents were the men of the 87th Royal Irish Fusiliers—the conjunction not altogether a happy one, seeing that the 87th wear on their shakos a French eagle, in commemoration of that captured by them at Barossa. Various temples and other public buildings were visited in the course of our interesting excursion; one of the latter a native prison, ricketty, tottering, and foul, its unhappy inmates lying upon the damp floor, chained, or with cangs on their necks, their existence dependent upon food supplied from without, their naked bodies besmeared with filth and presenting many ulcers. Many of them were not accused of crimes committed by themselves, but were undergoing punishment for the reason that their relatives had joined the ranks of the Taiping rebels. We intentionally refrained from a visit to “the Potter’s field,” or execution ground, immediately adjacent to the prison.
Everywhere along the streets were signs of activity and industry; shops containing all sorts of clothing materials, strangely ornamented umbrellas and lanterns; others devoted to old curiosities, jewelry, or watch-making, a good many to lacquer ware; nor could we withhold admiration of the elegant patterns and workmanship of such articles as cabinets, tables, screens, fans, etc., exposed for sale. But here, as in countries more advanced in certain phases of civilization, signs of superstition are apparent. Above the door of such establishments a horse’s hoof is nailed, and so Satanic influences guarded against. In the enlightened West, a horse’s shoe fulfils the same purpose.
The Temple of the Five Hundred Gods or worthies, then deemed one of the most characteristic sights of Canton, well repaid our visit to it. Among objects within that edifice is a miniature pagoda of eight stages, the whole consisting of beautifully cut marble, its total height twenty-five feet. The figures of the gods or heroes are all life-size. They represent various nationalities, one of their number in feature and dress like an Englishman. According to legend, the person so commemorated was a sailor, cast ashore wrecked on the coast of China. His life being spared, he ultimately rose to high position, and finally was, in effigy, honoured with a place in this Walhalla.
Another portion of the building was devoted to the purposes of a Buddhist temple, in which, at the time of our visit, “service” was being performed, or “celebrated.” The scene within comprised an altar, plain, without idols or other decoration; situated in an open space, bare-headed and shaven priests, some wearing robes of blue, others of grey cloth, all with a yellow-coloured surplice thrown over the left shoulder and brought loosely under the right arm. As they knelt at various distances from the altar, in seeming accordance with their rank, their hands in attitude of supplication, they joined in chanting what, in its intonation, resembled the Litany of our Western Churches; at intervals a small bell being gently struck, as in the Roman Catholic service. A congregation of men was present, but manifestly destitute of reverence or devotion. A few days were thus pleasantly spent; I then returned to duty at Hong-Kong. At the time referred to, that island was noted for the hospitality of residents, and the scale of magnificence upon which it was carried on. It was my good fortune to enjoy much of it, and of friendliness in other ways; among others, from representatives of the great houses of Jardine, Dent, and others, and from Mr. Campbell, then of the Oriental Bank.
Towards the end of August, a French Express boat brought intelligence that the English and French combined forces had landed at Pehtang; that, while advancing thence to Taku, our cavalry had been charged by the Tartar horse, with results disastrous to the latter. A few days more, news reached us that a somewhat sharp action had taken place, with somewhat severe loss to the allies, but leaving in their hands Taku and neighbouring forts; that the whole disposable force was in rapid motion towards Tientsin, in view to carrying out the intention of Lord Elgin to push on to the capital. A short interval passed, when attempts at negotiation at Tientsin having failed, the army continued its onward march. At Tungchow, a very sad occurrence befell it. By treachery, a body of Chinese, headed by the Prince Tsai, captured several officials, officers, and others; namely, Mr. Parkes, Mr. Bowlby (of the Times), Mr. Loch, Mr. De Normann, Lieutenant Anderson, Captain Brabazon, and several troopers belonging to Fane’s Horse. The Chinese army, under San ko Lin Sin, was, however, completely beaten; the road to Pekin left clear. Lord Elgin at once sent a communication to the Emperor, that, in the event of a hair of the head of one of the prisoners being touched, the combined forces would burn the Imperial palace to the ground.
A few days more, and on October 13 the allied army was in possession of the Chinese quarter of Pekin; the palace outside and north of the city given up to loot; the Emperor fled; the Summer Palace in ruins; the Chinese army vanished! Unhappily, news at the same time reached us that, although Mr. Parkes and Mr. Loch had been given up by the Chinese, they had been subject to various indignities before being so; but that others of the prisoners had succumbed under the barbarities to which they were subjected, among them Mr. Bowlby.[222]
Early in November, information reached us that a treaty of peace had been signed in the Imperial capital by Prince Kung and Lord Elgin. In accordance with its conditions, in addition to a war indemnity to be paid by the Chinese, a special sum was to be given for the families of the captives who had been killed or died in captivity. Thus, the object of the expedition had been obtained more speedily than Lord Elgin expected. The forces began their return march from Pekin towards Taku, there to embark, a brigade being detailed to occupy Tientsin until the indemnity should be paid.
In obedience to orders to join “the Army of Occupation”[223] at Tientsin, as the brigade left at that place was now officially called, I left Hong-Kong by the steamer Formosa, on November 28. Next day, we passed the mouth of the river Han, on the western bank of which stands Shah-tew, or, as pronounced in English, Swatow; the day following, traversed the channel that separates the island of Formosa from the city of Amoy on the mainland. Already the temperature was pleasantly cool, sky clear, wind and sea rather high, the effect of these conditions bracing and exhilarating, as compared with that produced by the trying and unpleasant climate we had left behind us. The general aspect of the coast wherever visible, as we advanced on our voyage, was bare and inhospitable. In our course, islands were numerous, the majority apparently uninhabited even by birds, and otherwise uninviting to look upon. As we approached the Yangtse, vegetation covered more and more thickly the islands passed by us; sea-birds were increasingly numerous, the water thick with mud. We arrived at Shanghai on December 3.
In the latter days of August, Shanghai had been seriously attacked by the Taiping rebels. On both occasions, the Imperialists fled before the enemy; but a foreign contingent of British, Indian, and French troops, with a body of volunteers composed of the foreign residents, repulsed the rebels, on whom they inflicted severe loss. During the attacks in question, several buildings had been destroyed or seriously damaged, the ruins being prominent objects in our view. So also were the remains of barricades and other extemporised defences. On the day of our arrival, the Indian Navy vessel, the Feroze, having on board Lord Elgin and suite, steamed up the Woosung River and anchored alongside us. The following day the Grenada arrived, with Sir Hope Grant, his staff, and various senior officers of the expedition, whose allotted task was completed in that the object of the expedition had been attained. But a new phase was about to be assumed by public affairs; arrangements had to be made for events, the shadow, as well as substance, of which affected the immediate vicinity of Shanghai, and extended over a great part of China. Whereas, diplomatic and military action had been directed heretofore against the Imperial power, both were now to be devoted to the support of that power, and against insurrectionary movements,[224] the real object of which was the overthrow of the ruling dynasty. Various bands of marauders, taking advantage of existing disturbances, were devastating the neighbourhood. Piratical bands, in which were enrolled escaped sailors and vagabonds of sorts, were giving so much trouble on the Yangtse, that it was necessary at once to dispatch a small river force for their suppression.