Copies of the Treaty[225] signed at Pekin on October 24 were immediately affixed to the walls throughout the native city of Shanghai. Crowds of Chinese assembled at various places to read the unwonted documents, printed as they were in their own language. An English version was at the same time published, for the benefit of foreigners, the nine articles comprised in it being to the effect that—(1) The Emperor expresses his deep regret for the affair at Taku; (2) Her Majesty’s representative shall reside permanently, or occasionally, as she may wish, at Pekin; (3) Eight millions of taels (£2,000,000) to be paid in instalments (as indemnity); (4) Tientsin to be opened for trade; (5) Emigration of Chinese to British colonies to be permitted; (6) Kowloon to be ceded; (7) The Treaty of 1858 shall come at once into operation; (8) That Treaty shall be published in Pekin and in the provinces; (9) On the Convention being signed, Chusan to be restored to Chinese (from occupation by the British), the British forces to commence their march from Pekin to Tientsin; that, if necessary, Taku, the north coast of Shantung, and Canton shall be occupied until the indemnity is paid. The morning after that Proclamation had been affixed to the walls, it was found in tatters and defaced!
A visit to the native city and its immediate surroundings introduced us to scenes characteristic of Chinese habits and of the particular circumstances of the time. Within the city and fosse a succession of narrow dirty streets, low-built houses, canals spanned by “willow pattern” bridges, cook shops, vegetable stalls, fur and “curio” shops. Adjoining one such street, a wretched shed, the damp earthen floor partly covered with straw, partly with refuse of very filthy kind. On the floor three human dead bodies, emaciated from starvation; a woman almost devoid of clothing, wasted to an extreme degree, wailing piteously over one of the three; another, still alive, but to all appearance in the last extreme from long-continued want of food. This we were informed is the place to which the miserably poor, and those who give up the battle of life, resort to die. Among the establishments visited were numerous fur shops, an extensive store of china or porcelain ware, a factory in which is woven the beautiful gold embroidery for which Shanghai is famous,—the embroidery being for the most part on blue cloth, its own most characteristic pattern the Imperial dragon, distinguished by having five toes, whereas the more plebeian emblems of the same survival of the pterodactyl has but four. What had been until recently ornamental “Tea” gardens were now occupied by French troops; once highly ornamented buildings within such enclosures converted into barracks for our allies. Uprooted shrubs and valuable plants lay about decayed and withered; rockwork, including fanciful-shaped miniature bridges, cast like so much rubbish into what had been artificial lakes and streams peopled by fish and water-plants. The glory of the place was indeed gone—desecrated, as the Chinese could not inappropriately say, by Western “barbarians.”
To a distance of several miles inland from the city the aspect of the country is more or less that of a continuous burial ground, interspersed with coffins left as they were placed, upon rather than under the surface of the ground, many of them broken and so exposing to view their ghastly contents. Here and there patches of ground were devoted to the cultivation of vegetables, in the midst of graves and coffins; while continuing our walk we met isolated coolies carrying at each end of an elastic piece of bamboo, supported on the shoulder at its middle, a jar containing the bones of their “ancestors,” being so borne away, doubtless, to be reverently disposed of elsewhere. Everywhere the district was intersected by canals and water-courses, raised and narrow pathways across the intervening fields; we seemed to be wandering in the “city of the silent.” Alongside the several canals and pathways were avenues of trees and ornamental shrubs.[226] The presence of the magpie, jackdaw, wagtail, and sandpiper carried our associations away to the “insignificant island in the Western sea.” Game birds were abundant, as we had an opportunity of witnessing in the city market; but since that date we learn that villas, gardens, and ornamental grounds have grown up, and so completely transformed the landscape as seen by us. Almost at every turn we met French soldiers off duty, or in considerable bodies marching from Woosung, at which place reinforcements were being landed from transports; in fact, there was little in the aspect of Shanghai to indicate that it was an English settlement. These and some other excursions were taken in company of Mr. Lamond, to whom I was much indebted for hospitality.
H.M.S. Roebuck, by which I was ordered to proceed northward, left Shanghai on December 11. Three days afterwards we were off the promontory of Shantung; the weather propitious, sky clear, breeze moderate, temperature on deck 48° F. to 44° F., sea smooth. But a rapid change took place. During the night of the 14th, darkness became so intense that Captain Martin, deeming it unsafe to proceed in a region little known and imperfectly surveyed, determined to cast anchor. By midnight we were in a heavy wind storm; it having cleared off by daylight, the ship resumed progress and was speedily among the Meatao Islands; a few hours more and we were in Hope Sound, otherwise a sheltered position in the concavity of the larger island of that group, called Chang Shang, where we found the British fleet collected, that of the French being off Chefoo, not far from our own. The Roebuck was ordered to await dispatches. While so doing, a number of rough-looking natives, brown in hue, Tartar in feature, their clothing partly consisting of wadded cotton, but in addition abundance of furs, came alongside in their boats, bringing with them rolls of bread, vegetables and fruits, similar to those we are accustomed to see at home. The presence of numbers of the common gull, the colder weather, the rougher sea, combined still further to recall the shores of England.
Arrived off Taku,[227] so thick was the haze and mist by which that place and the sea to some distance from it were concealed, that for several hours neither the forts nor coast were visible, nor was it till the following day that we were able to land. The little gunboat the Clown having taken us on board, we were quickly in sight of the forts, some of them very formidable in appearance; in the shallow discoloured water stakes still stood in lines where they had opposed the approach of Admiral Hope’s gunboats, and we were able to estimate the further difficulties on that occasion presented by the long stretch of mud which at low tide separated us from the forts. As evening was closing in, we entered the mouth of the Peiho; in due time were within the southern fort, above which floated the Union Jack, the northern being similarly distinguished by the Tricolour. The great extent of its mud ramparts was seen as we passed the inner gateway; huts in rows that had been occupied by its defenders were now used as barracks by officers and men of the detachment temporarily stationed here, or by military stores. In all directions old gun carriages, broken wheels, furniture, and débris of sorts lay about in a state of confusion. I was under the very unpleasant necessity of begging a night’s accommodation from an officer, a charity which he kindly accorded me.
Mounted on a borrowed horse, without guard or guide, I started next day en route to my destination, the distance to be travelled not less than thirty miles. A midday halt to rest my steed; a solitary ride along an ill-made road, through a flat, uninteresting tract of country, and final arrival without misadventure at Tientsin, completed the day’s proceedings. Already the cold had become severe; the wind, strong from east, swept over the plain; patches of water and canals were covered by ice; thus the journey has left on memory not a very agreeable impression. On arrival, however, I was kindly received by a brother officer.[228]
CHAPTER XXI
1860–1861 TIENTSIN
Arrangements for troops—The city—Absence of Tartar soldiers—Rides—Dogs and birds—Agriculture—Grain-stores—Winter—Great cold—Moderating—Spring—Temples—Chinese “sport”—New Year’s Day—Public baths—Ice-house—Foundling hospital—Story of Roman Catholic bishop—Hospital for Chinese—The “golden lily”—Gratitude—Wounded Tartars—Chinese Christian—Tortured Sikhs—French hospitals—Death of General Collineau—Sickness among the troops.
Arrangements rapidly advanced in regard to accommodation, food supplies, and medical care of the troops. Yamens—i.e., residences of wealthy inhabitants—were hired for temporary conversion into barracks. Markets and shops presented ample supplies of food, clothing, and articles of convenience, their owners showing much eagerness to do business with us. A tendency to pilfer, and other petty crimes, manifested itself on the part of some Asiatic followers and others, but was quickly suppressed by the Provost Marshal and his staff, after which discipline and order reigned among all classes pertaining to our force. Our French allies occupied quarters provided for them in the part of the city on the left side of the Peiho, the British and Indian being on the right of that river.
The city was of great commercial importance, its population some 800,000; streets narrow and filthy, houses low and dilapidated; in extent stretching away to and embracing the point of junction between the Imperial Canal and Peiho, thus covering a space of at least four miles by three. Merchandise from Corea and the south of China arrived abundantly as at a general depôt. Around the city proper a high wall extends, the crowded portion outside being called “suburbs,” but in no other respect different from the intra-mural city. In the Peiho was a Russian gunboat; in the city a small colony of Russian merchants, peacefully carrying on their business, and apparently on the most friendly terms with the people. A few Tartar traders, some leading their strong shaggy ponies, others Bactrian camels, all laden with merchandise, were met with. As we pursued our way through the mazes of the city, the people simply ignored our presence, taking not the slightest notice of us, although by the caricatures of Europeans we frequently came across in shops and elsewhere it was evident that we were by no means welcome guests. In an open space a modeller was occupied in making, with great ease and rapidity, a series of figures in clay, representing, though with droll exaggeration, the Sikh and British soldiers. Women were conspicuous by their absence; virtue in the sex was honoured and commemorated by memorial arches at certain points throughout the city. Everywhere in the crowded, narrow, and extremely dirty streets, foot-passengers jostled each other; the diseased, of whom many suffering from loathsome affections, coming in contact with those better-to-do, and to all appearance healthy. At intervals a puppet show, the prototype of Punch and Judy, or more pretentious “show” attracted crowds; itinerant “doctors,” their carts decorated with exaggerated illustrations of diseases and accidents, remedies for which were vociferously lauded and offered for sale. On either side pawnshops and restaurants; at the doors of the latter customers gambling whether they should pay double or quits for refreshments or foods served to them.