He says the “barbarians” have “filched Chinese titles for their rulers:” thus “assuming the airs of great authority,” which he acknowledges to be “no concern of ours;” but they will not accept any designation denoting dependency, nor adopt the lunar calendar, nor acknowledge patents of royalty from the “son of heaven.” They are so “uncivilized,” so “blindly ignorant” of propriety, that to require them to recognize becoming “inferiority” and “superiority,” would “lead to fierce altercation;” and after all, he recommends disregarding these “minor details,” in order to carry out “an important policy.” He presents to the “sacred intelligence” this hasty outline of the “rough settlement of the barbarian business.”[5] On the general character of the official papers seized in Yeh’s yamun, Mr. Wade reports:—
“The foreigner is represented as inferior in civilization, unreasonable, crafty, violent, and in consequence dangerous. The instructions of the court are accordingly to lecture him fraternally or magisterially, and by this means it is hoped to keep in hand his perpetual tendency to encroach and intrude. A stern tone is to be adopted on occasion, but always with due regard to the avoidance of an open rupture.”
There were grave omissions in Sir Henry Pottinger’s treaty of 1842. It left the shipping and commercial relations of the British colony of Hong Kong in a very unsatisfactory state, encumbering them with regulations to which it was found impossible to give effect; and the trade emancipated itself by its own irresistible energies to the common advantage of China and Great Britain. The treaty contained no clause declaring the British text to be the true reading, and the consequence was, various and embarrassing interpretations of the intentions of the negotiators; the Chinese naturally enough contending for the accuracy of their version, while, quite as naturally, our merchants would abide only by the English reading.[6] There is no condition providing for the revision of the treaty, and it is only under “the most favoured nation” clause, which concedes to us everything conceded to other powers, that we have a claim to a revision; but we cannot demand such revision, unless and until it is granted to the French or the Americans.
But the most fatal mistake of all was that which fixed on Canton as the seat of our diplomatic relations with China. It removed our influence from the capital to the remotest part of the empire—to a province always looked upon with apprehension and distrust by the supreme authorities at Peking, and among a population remarkable alike for their unruly disposition and their intense and openly proclaimed hatred to foreigners. It had been Keying’s calculation (and his assurances were most welcome to the court) that the emperor would thus get rid of all annoyance from Western “barbarians,” who would be kept in order by the indomitable spirit of the Cantonese. No provision was made for personal access to the high commissioner charged with the conduct of “barbarian affairs,” still less for communication, even by correspondence, with the capital. This was the first great triumph of Chinese policy, and has been fertile in producing fruits of mischief and misery.
Sir Henry Pottinger never visited Canton; he never examined the ground on which he placed the future representatives of Great Britain; he listened to the declarations of Keying, that the difficulties in the way of a becoming reception there were then insuperable; that they would be removed by time, which might render the turbulent Cantonese population more reasonable; he relied on the assurance that everything would be done to prepare the way for a happier state of things. No doubt there were difficulties; but they were not invincible: they ought, then and there, to have been surmounted. Pottinger little knew with what a faithless element he had to deal, and little dreamed that delay would be taken advantage of, not to lessen, but increase the resistance; that it would be employed not to facilitate, but to thwart our object—not to soothe, but to exasperate the people. Pottinger deemed his treaty a bridge to aid—Keying meant it to be a barrier to resist—our entrance into China. But Sir Henry, before his death, acknowledged his error, and deeply lamented that his confidence had been misplaced. Abundant evidence has since been furnished that the treaty was signed, not with the purpose of honestly giving effect to its conditions, but to get rid of the “barbarian” pressure, and to bide the time, when the treaty obligations could be got rid of altogether.
Proofs were not wanting of this dishonest purpose, and, in consequence, after some hesitation, it was deemed necessary by the British Government to remind the Chinese that their obligation to admit her Majesty’s subjects into Canton had not been fulfilled; and they were advised that the Island of Chusan, which we held as a guarantee, would not be surrendered until security was given for the compliance with the treaty stipulation. A short delay was asked by the Chinese, and the assurance, under the authority of the “vermilion pencil,” was renewed, that arrangements would be made for our having access to the city. Chusan was in consequence given up to the Chinese authorities; but no steps were taken to prepare the “public mind” to receive us as friends and allies within the walls of Canton. On the contrary, incendiary placards, breathing the utmost enmity to foreigners, continued to be promulgated and pasted on the walls. In 1847, Sir John Davis, naturally impatient at Keying’s procrastination and subterfuges, determined to capture the Bogue forts, to move with military forces upon Canton, and to threaten the city into compliance with obligations so long trifled with and disregarded. Keying asked for time, and entered into a formal written engagement that the city should be opened in April, 1849. When the time was at hand, Sir George Bonham, who had succeeded to the governorship of Hong Kong, sought an interview with Seu, who had replaced Keying as imperial commissioner. Seu did not hesitate to say that the ministers had been engaged in a common purpose of deception—that the Chinese and British were both aware the gates were not to be opened—that each had avoided the responsibility of bringing the matter to issue, and had left it to their successors. Seu said he would refer the question to the emperor. The emperor’s reply was the stereotyped instruction to all mandarins, who have any relations with foreigners: “Keep the barbarians at a distance if you can—but above all things keep the peace.” Now, though we had a large fleet at Hong Kong, the imperial commissioner had undoubtedly obtained information, from some quarter or other, that the fleet would not be employed hostilely, and that he might “resist the barbarian” without compromising the public tranquillity. So he negatived the demands of the British.
That our forbearance was a grievous mistake there can be little hesitation in affirming. But the importance of the concession then made was little understood, except by the Chinese, and to it may be attributed the embarrassments which have since entangled our negotiations with China. As the British Government determined to leave the Canton question in a state of abeyance, Sir George Bonham prohibited the Queen’s subjects from attempting to enter the city—a prohibition which was taken immediate advantage of by the mandarins, who proclaimed that our right to enter the city had been finally and for ever withdrawn. By the orders of the emperor, who wrote to the high commissioner that he had read “with tears of joy” the report, which showed with what sagacity and courage he had, without the employment of force, thwarted “the seditious demands of the barbarians,” six triumphal arches were erected at the various entrances of the city of Canton, to celebrate the wisdom and valour of the authorities; and the names of all the distinguished Cantonese who had contributed to so glorious a consummation were ordered to be inscribed upon the monuments for immortal commemoration, while dignities and honours were showered down upon the principal actors. A grand religious ceremonial, in which all the high authorities took part, was also ordered to be celebrated in the Temple of Potoo, which is dedicated to a foreign deified idol, who is supposed to control the affairs of “Western barbarians.” These triumphal arches—magnificently built of granite—were blown up by the Allies after the capture of the city.
It had indeed been long evident that it was the fixed purpose of the Chinese authorities to escape from treaty obligations as soon as they fancied that they were menaced by nothing more than a remote and uncertain danger; the bow returned to its original bent as the tightness of the string was relaxed. It was only while the pressure of our presence was felt that any disposition was shown to respect imperial engagements. The consuls of the United States and of France had at first been received becomingly in Canton, by the viceroy; but, in 1849, on the arrival of Consul Bowring, very subordinate mandarins were appointed to visit him: the imperial commissioner altogether refused any interview at any place. No official reception was therefore given by the high mandarins to the British consular authorities, who were utterly excluded from personal intercourse with them. The stipulation of the treaty that the mandarins should, in conjunction with the foreign authorities, assist in the arrangement of differences between Chinese and British subjects, was absolutely a dead letter; and the obligation on the part of the mandarins to aid officially in the recovery of debts due to foreigners was utterly disregarded, when the Chinese debtor was in a condition to bribe the native functionaries.
The alienation and repulsion which had become the system and the rule of the Chinese authorities, had been productive of consequences most detrimental to their amicable relations with foreigners. Personal intercourse affords the greatest facilities for the arrangement of difficulties; and, even had the correspondence with the mandarins been of the most frank and friendly character, the settlement of all questions would have been greatly aided by frequent interviews. But these were always avoided, and often on pleas the most untenable: sometimes it was said that the weight of administrative business prevented the granting an audience—sometimes that the viceroy was preparing to attack the rebels, and might be visiting the interior—sometimes that an auspicious day must be waited for. Replies were sometimes long delayed; sometimes never given; and it was seldom that an answer was otherwise than evasive or unsatisfactory. There were many occasions on which the cabinets of the treaty powers directed their representatives to make communications, through the imperial commissioner, to the court of Peking; but only one instance occurred of any attention being paid to such communications: it was that connected with our entrance into the city, and the imperial reply was such as to encourage the viceroy in his perverse and perilous policy. The impossibility of obtaining personal access to the imperial commissioner was, in fact, not only a great grievance in itself, but it was the cause of the non-redress of every other grievance. It is not in the field of diplomatic controversy that European functionaries can have any fair chance with those who, preserving all the forms of courtesy, will deny facts, or invent falsehoods to suit the purposes of the moment.
So great had been the disposition of the Chinese authorities to bring back matters to their position anterior to the treaties of 1812, that in Foochow Foo, the only other provincial city to which we had a right of access, and in which a viceregal government exists, the high authorities had refused all personal intercourse with the representatives of Great Britain, though the consular offices are established within the city walls. The superior officers of the great provincial cities have the right of direct intercourse with the court of Peking and with the emperor himself,—a right not possessed by any of the functionaries in the ports of Shanghae, Ningpo, or Amoy, but confined to those of Canton and Foochow, the one being the capital of the province of Kwantung, the other of the province of Fookien. The importance of our being in direct communication with those through whom alone we can communicate with the ministers, or the sovereign, at Peking, can hardly be over-estimated. Sir John Bowring visited Foochow, in 1853, in a ship of war, and after much resistance from the viceroy, was finally and officially received by him with every mark of distinction; and the result of that friendly reception was the amicable and satisfactory arrangement of every question—and there were many—then pending between British and Chinese subjects in the Fookien province. It is true that on more than one occasion the viceroy of Canton offered to receive the British plenipotentiary, not in his official yamun, but in a “packhouse” belonging to Howqua; and there were those who held that Sir John Bowring should have been satisfied with such condescension on the part of the Chinese commissioner. It should be remembered that in all the treaties with foreigners, the emperor has engaged that the same attentions shall be shown to foreign functionaries which can be claimed and are invariably shown to mandarins of similar rank. It was always a part of the policy of the Chinese to maintain in the eyes of the people that superiority of position which national pride and vanity had for ages rendered habitual; and the recognition of the right of foreign authorities to be elevated to the same height was one of the most important of the treaty concessions. But it was a treaty concession, and ought never to be allowed to become a dead letter. In our relations with Oriental governments, the only security for the observance of treaty engagements, is to be found in their rigid, but quiet and determined enforcement. To be considerate as to what you exact, is the dictate alike of prudence and of policy; but the attempt to disregard or violate any formal treaty stipulation should be resisted at its very earliest demonstration.