Henry Pottinger and the End of the Opium War

The First Opium War Ends with the Treaty of Nanjing

Henry Pottinger was fifty-one years old when he was appointed as Britain’s new Superintendent of Trade for China. He was veteran of the British Indian Army and intelligence services.

Pottinger was from an old noble family that claimed direct descent from Alfred the Great’s grandfather. By the time of his birth in 1789, the family’s fortune was in decline. Part of the estate had already been sold off. When he was around 22 years old, the mansion was sold as well. Henry and 4 of his brothers sought fortune in India. Among his other duties, he had helped the tribal rulers of Sind into taxpaying subjects of Britain.

Before the trouble with the British had started, the defences at Xiamen, the island off the coast of Fujian province, were poor. To its south, the Big Fort just had 25 regular soldiers. Another thirty watched the northwest. The southeast was manned by a single soldier.

But since then, a further 3000 soldiers were brought in. The governor added a mile long granite wall along the south coast and installed 100 cannons on it. New forts were built east and west and filled with soldiers and cannons. After spending 1.5 million ounces of silver, the cliffs of Xiamen had 15,000 soldiers under arms and 400 new cannons.

Around 1:30pm on August 26th, 1841, the British attacked. First their long guns fired. Then the Nemesis approached and unloaded infantry. They scrambled up the wall on each other’s shoulders. Once the British were on the wall, they raised their flag. The defenders fired some shots and then retreated. One fort was taken by a single British officer who charged up the hill and through an open gate firing every gun he had. The defenders rushed out of the opposite gate and back down the hill.

By evening, the British were camped out on the cliffs. The next day they entered the city and found it abandoned.

However, Xiamen was not on Lord Palmerston’s list of demands. The previously occupied island of Zhoushan, however, was.

On August 23, the Emperor received a message from the Governor of Zhejiang province about a rumour that British ships were moving up the coast with intentions of attacking Zhoushan again. He asked if he could ignore the Emperor’s command of July 28th to withdraw the soldiers garrisoning the coastal defences.

The Emperor replied to go on with demobilization, to save on costs.

On September 5th, the Emperor received a memo from Yishan in Guangzhou dated August 23rd. A new English leader had arrived. He was sailing north “to beg for ports”.

On September 5th, the day the Emperor found out that Pottinger had arrived in the south, the British were already leaving Xiamen to occupy Zhoushan and two new mainland ports.

On September 13th, the Emperor learned that Xiamen had fallen on August 27th.

When Pottinger had arrived in China, he had sent a letter for Yishan. That his instructions were to gain all the points raised in Lord Palmerston’s letter. He would be sailing up the coast and insisted that this be reported to the Emperor.

But Yishan did not communicate to the Emperor what the British really wanted.

In February 1841, the Emperor appointed Yuqian as his imperial commissioner against the British. Yuqian was a noble of Mongol descent from Genghis Khan’s own clan. Within a few weeks of his appointment, he was also the one who impeached Qishan for having advocated compromise with the British.

His confidence and hatred for the British is what the Emperor wanted to hear. He blamed the defeats to date on a failure of nerves.

He focused on the fact that in the original fall of Zhoushan, only 26 Qing soldiers had died. The rest had run away.

He had never seen a western army or navy, yet he felt confident enough to write:

“The nations of the West know nothing but material profit. They have no other skill than trade....no culture, law or education. Nor does England have enough power to capture cities or seize territory in other countries.”

He admitted that they had large, powerful ships that made victory at sea impossible. It was best to fight them on land because “the enemy could not use fists or swords and their waist is still and their legs are straight. Bound with cloth, they can scarcely stretch at will. Once fallen down, they cannot stand up again.”

Strange, because had he looked into the matter, he would have learned that Britain controlled much of India and many other parts of the world.

Yuqian’s confidence was increased by the British evacuation of Zhoushan on February 24th, 1841. He did not appreciate that Elliott had done so to fulfil a condition of his draft treaty.

Yuqian executed and displayed the bodies of some locals who had worked for the British during the occupation.

When a British ship came with re-supplies, not knowing his countrymen had already left the island, he was sliced to death and his head displayed for all to see. When some opium traders were captured, he had them painfully executed and their heads displayed.

Yuqian prepared for any further attacks on Zhoushan similarly to the previous Qing officials. He built 3 miles of thick mud walls. They were up to 60 feet wide and up to thirteen feet high. He stationed 5600 soldiers and militia there.

He promised the Emperor that defeating the British would now be easy if they tried to attack. Our cannons can hit them, but theirs cannot hit us, he promised.

When the battle did come in October 1841, Yuqian reported it to the Emperor as a six day battle. He reported that his 5000 soldiers bravely resisted, but eventually succumbed to 10,000, 20,000 or perhaps even, 30,000 British soldiers.

The British remember the battle differently. The first five days were reconnaissance, with only the occasional exchange of fire. On October 1st, at dawn, seven warships and 4 steamers pounded the defences. The Nemesis unloaded the infantry, who under the cover of the Nemesis fire, climbed up the hills behind the earthworks and after hand-to-hand fighting, occupied the forts. They then moved up the island’s hill, took control and moved up their artillery. They then fired down on the city. The Chinese then scattered out of the north gate and into the island’s interior.

By 2pm, the British flag flew over the city. The British reported two dead and twenty-eight wounded. Within 3 days, the locals were supplying them and a market had opened. Exchanges were as if the British had never left.

Pottinger was already planning his next attack: Zhenhai, on the mainland. That was the headquarters of Yuqian and the next defence before the city of Ningbo.

Yuqian thought it impregnable. His focus had been on adding defences to Zhoushan Island, which was captured in less than one day of combat.

There were forts on each side and in the mouth of the river, about one mile of muddy shallows. He had, however, added new forts around the crag, guarding the entrance.

Yuqian thought his main issue was his troops. As word of a British attack drew closer, he tried to motivate his troops, extolling them to fight to the death.

His Chief Commander wanted none of it. He mentioned his family and preferred to negotiate. Yuqian would not allow it. He said “If Zhenhai falls, I fall with it.”

On October 10th, two British battleships, a frigate and three sloops moved into position along each bank of the river mouth and pounded all the forts in sight. The British could fire further so they could hit the forts, without the forts’ cannons being able to reach the British ships.

By 11:15am, troops had landed and were scrambling up the bank to the fort overlooking Zhenhai. The Union Jack flag was soon flapping on the walls.

The only thing between the fort and Zhenhai was a set of walls 26 feet high. The British fired upon the defenders and scaled the walls. The remaining defenders then fled out the western gate.

The Chief Commander was responsible for holding the heights at the northern bank and he ordered his men not to fire and hung out a white flag of surrender, then ran down the hill with his soldiers close behind him.

When Yuqian saw this, he had some cannons fire upon them. They kept running but detoured around the far side of the mountain to evade the cannon fire.

On the south side, Major General Gough was leading 5000 men. He divided his army into three parts. Two parts advanced on the left and right unseen. A third in the centre was visible. The Qing soldiers were lured out to meet that smaller central force and then were fired upon from the hidden soldiers of the left and right. They tried to flee upriver, but the casualties were terrible. About 1500 Qing soldiers may have died. Sixteen dead British were counted.

Yuqian came down from the city walls, kowtow bowed towards Beijing and tried to drown himself, but his retinue fished him out. The next day he took poison and died.

Both soldiers and civilians panicked and were heading to Ningbo and beyond.

On October 13th, four steamers and four warships advanced fifteen miles upriver to the city. It was undefended when they arrived. Ningbo was taken without a shot being fired.

But that did not stop the Chief Commander from reporting of gallant struggles with the enemy when his own leg was partly crushed by a British shell. More recent Chinese historians suspect that if he hurt his leg, he did so running away.

On hearing of the defeats, the Emperor wanted to punish Yuqian. But since he had killed himself, the Emperor instead praised him, gave him posthumous and hereditary honours and turned his anger towards the cowardly Chief Commander.

Next up for the Emperor’s was his nephew Yijing. He was appointed the same day that the Emperor learned of Yuqian’s death. His job was to counterattack and to retake what had just been lost.

He didn’t have much relevant experience. He was known for excellent calligraphy. And he was a good painter. He was Director of the Imperial Gardens and Hunting Parks. He had enjoyed a privileged life as a relative of the Emperor and had a series of low risk, high ranking positions.

Later, the Emperor would blame himself for having put someone with so little military experience against the British.

Yijing’s trip south followed an interesting route. He set off for the picturesque canal city of Yangzhou, a kind of Chinese Venice. He paused there, before continuing to Suzhou, where he stayed for two months. It also had canals, villas and gardens, along with fine dining, opera and residents who enjoyed poetry writing and other art forms.

Spies reported to Pottinger about him and called him a “man of pleasure, fond of ease, presents and bribes and a real courtier. He had not made up his mind what course to pursue.”

But he decided that amnesty would be damaging to the country’s prestige and preferred to fight.

In Suzhou, he had a box put out and invited suggestions. 400 suggestions were received. But then 144 new advisors began strutting about, calling themselves Junior Commissioners. As war approached, the box disappeared.

One piece of doggeral poetry from the time may sum up the situation well.

“The prostitutes of Hangzhou brag the loudest

Next year, they’ll all give birth to little Junior Commissioners

After them come the prostitutes of Shaoxing.

Next year, they’ll have little soldiers.

Pity the poor weeping whores of Ningbo

Next year, they’ll all have little foreign devils”

Yijing was waiting for 12,000 reinforcements to arrive. To get there, they had relied on local populations for food and help, while travelling to get to their new post. In at least one case, soldiers commandeered doors and then required locals to carry the soldiers on top of those doors, like a flat sedan chair or litter. This misuse of resources also was seen at the top.

Yijing was a terrible financial manager. He himself admitted that he had no idea what was being spent on the campaign. He gave all receipts to a staff member who put them in an attic. The auditor knew full well that the Emperor should not hear of any of it and new accounts were fabricated.

One example was E Yun. He received 12,000 ounces of silver to hire, feed and reward local militia. But he failed to give them any training and ran away on April 1st.

Another expenditure was the purchase of 19 monkeys, who were to reek havoc, but were never used in battle. They were ultimately abandoned or forgotten after the final defeat and died of starvation or neglect.

The soldiers who arrived were from eight different provinces. There was regional fragmentation, a lack of knowledge of local conditions and poor morale.

The British learned through a spy that the soldiers were in a state of mutiny for lack of pay and provisions.

One group, from western China was mistaken for Europeans and a clash between two different Chinese companies resulted. At least three soldiers were killed.

The original date for the counterattack was to be February 9th, 1842. But that date came and went.

A spy reported that Yijing was willing to bribe the British to leave Ningbo. He would take credit for driving them from the city.

On Chinese New Year, he went to a nearby temple of the God of War to pray for victory. He checked with the spirits and drew a lot that said:

“If men with the heads of tigers do not greet you,

Your security cannot be guaranteed.”

A few days later, on February 13th, 700 Sichuanese aborigines arrived, decked out in tiger skin tunics, heads covered with tiger heads and claws with tails behind them.

That overjoyed Yijing who took it as the sign. He therefore decided to attack at the Hour of the Tiger, on the Day of the Tiger, in the Month of the Tiger, in that year of the Tiger. Which is between 3 and 5 am on March 10, 1842. To lead the attack, he would choose someone born in the year of the Tiger.

He sent advance notice to the Emperor and promised that he would cut off the heads of Pottinger, Gough and a British admiral and present them to his Majesty. While they were still alive, he would eat their quivering flesh and sleep on their skins.

The Emperor himself noted on that memo that “Great success is inevitable.”

Many of the spies worked for Karl Gützlaf, the German missionary who spoke fluent Chinese. The British used him as a magistrate in occupied territories. The Chinese knew him as Daddy Guo.

One of his spies was a failed examination candidate. He said he would work for Gützlaf like a horse or dog as long as Gützlaf would pay for him to travel to Beijing to retake the examinations.

Another was an official who was so well connected enough that when he was caught, the lieutenant governor of Zhejiang arranged that he would not be punished.

The Qing knew about spies and promised death to any traitors and promised that anyone who distinguished himself in guerrilla attacks against the British would be praised to the Emperor and ennobled.

British were indeed at risk from local populations if they wandered too far without protection. From Ningbo, 42 were carried off. Some were killed, but others held as hostages and were eventually released after the peace treaty was signed.

Yijing’s plan was to reconquer all of the British held territories in Zhejiang province all at once. The city of Ningbo, Zhenhai and the island of Zhoushan.

Although the month of the Tiger was considered auspicious by Yijing, that was in early March and the winter snows were melting, making the ground slushy. It was a tough slog for them to move cannons into position.

The British had been warned about the planned attack. But they had received so many varying reports, that its authenticity could not be assured.

But there were enough signs occurred that night that the British were somewhat ready when the Chinese attack began.

Around 4am, a single man carrying a lit torch approached the west gate of Ningbo. He was told to go away and when he did not, he was shot.

Then the south and west gates were rushed both from the inside and from the outside. The attackers in the south made progress inside the city towards the city’s central marketplace. But then the British gunfire pushed them back.

At the western gate, 140 British troops faced what might have been at least 3000 soldiers. For hours, the fire was intense, including the British troops hacking out part of the walls to drop down on soldiers below. There was hand to hand combat and presumably gunfire too. When dawn arrived, the British survived with the arrival of a howitzer. It was used in a narrow street where the Qing soldiers had to squeeze through to attack. It would have been devastating as wave after wave of soldiers would be mowed down by that terrible weapon at short distance.

Among the dead were the Sichuan aborigines in tiger heads. They had been told to minimize gunfire to reduce civilian casualties. They had understood that to mean that they should only bring knives. That misunderstanding might have made the difference.

A few well-placed gun shots on the artillery men might have accomplished that.

Instead, five or six hundred Chinese troops perished.

The attack on Zhoushan Island never happened. They were to have attacked at 4am, but the island is rocky, the sailors were from a different part of China and were unfamiliar with it. The tides were unfavourable then. By the time the tides had turned, so too had the tide of war. They heard about the defeats on the mainland and lost heart. So, for the next month, they sailed up and down the coast without ever attacking. The fleet’s commander had been given 220,000 dollars to cover the campaign costs.

When later threatened with a court martial, he did report back and appears to have lied through his teeth. He told tales of having sunk a large man of war and twenty-one smaller British ships by fire rafts and 200 English drowned and more burned to death. Overtime, those numbers grew larger each time he retold the story. The Zhejiang Governor, Liu, publicly denied the story and later refused to sign any such report to the Emperor. But the story was welcome news to the Emperor and the fleet commander does not appear to have been punished.

Luckily for him, the British also chose to leave Ningbo on May 7th, so credit could be taken for having chased them away.

There was a final battle north of Ningbo. The remaining Qing soldiers, about 8000 of them, many being part of the elite Imperial Guard. They were on the hills around Ciqi. They had the advantages of numbers and height.

But the British had 1200 soldiers, superior field artillery and the Nemesis in a nearby waterway.

The battle was brutal. At least 1000 Qing soldiers died in the battle with many more wounded. Many of the wounded were killed by British soldiers who, under Pottinger, seemed to have even fewer scruples than before. Others seemed to have taken opium for the pain and some died as a result.

For a while, the Emperor was unsure what to do with Yijing for his part in the losing battles. He was then required to account for the expenses on the campaigns. He was charged with improper expenses and for a time was sentenced to death. Ultimately, the Emperor decided that he himself was partially to blame by putting someone so inexperienced with war in such a position. Yijing, along with Lin were sent to Xinjiang, in northwest China. About 11 years later, Yijing died there of malaria.

On May 18 1842, the British approached Zhapu, a pleasant port city that had trade with Korea and Japan. East Asian traders do not appear to have been required to trade through Guangzhou.

It was on the north side of the Hangzhou Bay, that is at the mouth of the river that leads to the famously beautiful city of Hangzhou. Ningbo is roughly on the south side of the bay and Zhapu on the north side of it. This is a few dozen kilometres southeast of Shanghai.

In this attack, 820 British landed on Zhapu and did battle with Manchu bannermen. Those were members of the same minority ethnic group as the Emperor. None of these defenders ran away. They used the narrow streets to defend. They continued to fire on the British from a position inside a Temple, which was on top of a hill. Monks were fleeing the temple. The British suffered some losses and responded by tying a bag of gunpowder to the side of a building and set it alight. It worked and the roof came down and many burned inside.

As the British moved towards the city and through the gates, the remaining Manchu forces fought until they could not. Then, they mostly committed suicide by cutting their own throats. So too, did the Manchu families. It was a gruesome scene with families either being killed by the fathers or taking poison and then being found later with black lips. One officer was captured by the British and he replied that he wanted no mercy. He was here to fight for the Emperor.

One reason for the suicides might have been the accounts reported by the Chinese. They say women were being divided by the attackers. The prettiest for the British and the remaining women for the Indian soldiers.

Next, around June 19th, the British captured Shanghai.

After Shanghai, the fleet turned to the northwest in the direction of Nanjing, the ancient capital. Heavy rains slowed the approach.

Between the fleet and Nanjing was Zhenjiang, a garrison.

It was in a form of civil war, between the Manchu authorities and the local population.

The garrison commander was a Manchu official. He had requested funds for defence but been denied them by the province’s Governor-General Niu Jian. Niu Jian believed that the British would never attack so far upriver in the Yangtze. He also believed the British steamers were powered by oxen.

So the garrison commander repaired the walls, but had no funds for new cannons or extra troops.

The province’s Governor General changed from confidence when he observed the British take a garrison north of Shanghai on June 16th. That garrison had 175 cannons, but it did not stop the British. The Governor General Niu turned white and ran away.

The Manchu garrison commander then deteriorated into a “very excited state”. He began prosecuting real or imagined traitors. The only place where he had cannons facing outwards were the 4 gates. He had others aimed inside. He considered the whole city to be full of traitors. People were killed on the flimsiest of rumours. The locals had no idea what the actual plans for defence were. No militia had been hired.

To prevent soldiers from leaving, he had them locked in. But he had also not fed them. So, when the British attacked, his soldiers had been without food for up to 5 days. Some who were guarding outside the walls, threatened to break into the city, rush their commander and eat him raw.

The British are said to have landed 7000 troops. If so, that would have been their largest landing so far in the war. The 2700 Qing soldiers outside the wall soon vanished. The western gate was soon in British hands and they were on the western wall. On that side, the British faced the most challenges from the heat.

But on the northern wall, ethnic Manchus defended it. The British and Indian troops used climbing ladders to scale the walls. But the fighting was intense and often hand to hand. Those that survived, including the Manchu families, tried to commit suicide. Sometimes the husbands used their swords. In some cases, families hanged themselves. When stopped by British, they would even starve themselves thereafter. It was a terrible and moving scene for the British observers.

The garrison commander died. And it is unclear if he committed suicide or was killed by his troops. He is generally remembered by the Chinese as having been unhinged.

It seems like the only real fighting by the Chinese was when their women and children were close. It was defence of them, or of Manchu for their Emperor, that seems to have motivated them. In other cases, once the strength of the British was clear, the Chinese soldiers preferred to run for their lives.

The British were noting that this was a Manchu war and not a universal one. In Zhejiang, 30% of Manchu Bannermen fighters died. Only 1.6% of the other Chinese fighters did.

Some Manchu thought the Han were so disloyal that they allowed the British to attack or even supported them. That may have had some truth to it.

For example, the British passed one village in easy sight of Zhenjiang during the fighting. The villagers were simply observed eating their bowls of rice and watching the fighting. They seemed to feel no real passion for what was happening.

Once the Manchu were dead, the locals would carry off any of the dead’s valuable possessions they could find.

By this time, General Gough, who had criticized Elliott for not allowing him to attack Guangzhou, wrote that he was “sick at heart of war”.

By the first week of August, the British were approaching Nanjing.

That spring, the Emperor recalled a 71-year-old Manchu office named Yilibu from a Great Wall fortress town. He had been banished there after a trial in Beijing related to his handling of the British occupation of Zhoushan in 1840.

But now, 2 years into the war, the Emperor was still trying to understand basic facts. Where exactly was England? What are Indians doing in their army? Is the Queen really 22 years old? Is she married? He had asked these questions of Yilibu in writing and he had been prepared to answer them. But the Emperor changed his mind and never met with him in person. So, Yilibu simply kowtowed to the gate of the Second Palace and left for Zhejiang through the city’s southern gate.

The Emperor had been punishing those who failed to exterminate the British and even those who reported Qing inferiority to the British. At least temporarily, he praised and awarded those who made up tales of successful battles.

His confusion had been caused by the untruthful reporting of his high officials. But he himself had ultimate responsibility for a system that seemed to prefer lies to the inconvenient truth.

But, as mentioned, Liu Yunke, the Governor of Zhejiang, had refused to sign off on false reports of naval victories in his territory. And while he had a year ago suggested exterminating the British, once Zhenhai had fallen, he changed his tune. The British cannons were too fierce, their soldiers too expert at fighting on land and at sea, the Chinese people too easily bribed into collaboration. Liu mentioned the high cost of the war so far and reviewed the history of controlling and taming foreigners. He said fighting and defending had not worked and they were not allowed to soothe. He added that he had no solution and mentioned his growing illnesses and unsuitability. Liu recommended Yilibu instead. He was known for having captured Burmese bandits 23 years earlier. He had also been better than some other commanders when faced with the British presence in 1840 and 1841. That seems to have been how the Emperor had chosen to recall Yilibu.

He also appointed his old drinking and riding buddy Qiying, a Manchu aristocrat. They arrived at Hangzhou on May 9th, 1842.

Yilibu tried to get the British to put down their arms in exchange for trade and the return of some British prisoners. But the British were already trading and the British wanted much more than just a few prisoners back. The British clarified that their goals remained as per Lord Palmerston’s letter. Yilibu knew nothing about that letter and tried vague peace negotiations, but the British held back. They demanded proof that he had full powers from the Emperor to negotiate, which he did not it.

Qiying was advocating peace, but the Emperor would not have it. He demanded again that the British be exterminated.

But then on July 27, he heard about the massacre in Zhenjiang, and was receiving frantic messages from the Governor General about Nanjing. The Governor General wrote, “The Emergency is inexpressibly serious, please think of something to save us all.” Like that, the Emperor changed his mind and granted Qiying full power to negotiate with the British.

“Act as circumstances require. Sort things out quickly and expediently. Do not waver.” It was put in the express post and arrived on August 1, three days before the first British ship anchored just outside Nanjing.

Now that these officials had the authority to negotiate, what did they do? Send a subordinate.

Yilibu sent Zhang Xi. Little is known about Zhang Xi, but he is believed to have been a failed examination candidate who was part of Yilibu’s long-term staff. That means that Yilibu arranged to have him paid privately. Zhang had been with him by the Great Wall, but Yilibu requested him to follow him to Nanjing. He did not want to come and at first said that he would not be able to handle the “cold winds” which seems strange given Nanjing is much further south of the Great Wall. Then he claimed illness. Eventually, his superior Yilibu pressured him. “Surely you have recovered by now. Come at once.”

He arrived in a city roughly halfway between Shanghai and Nanjing to meet with his superiors. He must have been exhausted, but they sent him through the night to the British to persuade them to hold their fire. They dressed him in a robe of silk and a hat of Qing office crowned by a button indicating high official rank. He travelled by boat, horse and then 30 miles on foot to arrive on August 7th.

There he met with Pottinger, Guetzlaff and two other senior interpreters. He was told that the British simply wanted the terms of the Palmerston’s letter met and if so, then hostilities would be concluded.

That put Zhang in a challenging spot as he had not had time to be briefed and even Yilibu and Qiying had never seen the letter. No Qing official seems to have been able to find it.

But Zhang Xi admitted he did not know those contents, so they were explained to him:

A ransom for the city, indemnities for the confiscated opium, opening of trade ports etc.

When Zhang Xi heard those demands, he went red in the face, got angry and spit.

The British did say they would temporarily postpone bombardment in exchange for three million dollars.

When Zhang Xi returned to his superiors, he was advocating war. He suggested fire rafts (which of course had been tried before) But Pottinger was indeed taking precautions in case of any such attack.

Niu Jian, the province’s Governor General disagreed, “Let’s not play with the tiger’s beard.”

The British continued landing their troops and setting up their howitzer artillery. The Governor General was claiming the city was too poor to pay 3 million dollars.

Around midnight on August 10th, the British warned they would attack the next morning. Yilibu wrote a note to Zhang Xi authorizing acceptance of the reimbursement for opium, the opening of ports and diplomatic equality. The 3 million dollars was promised orally.

A conference was then scheduled for August 12th and again Zhang Xi represented the Qing. The British interpreters carefully wrote down the demands in Chinese and provided a deadline of 24 hours for a response, along with proof that Yilibu and Qiying were acting with the express permission of the Emperor.

Qiying responded to the demands communicated to him by Zhang by saying “There’s no hurry, let’s take our time.”

As the deadline approached, not only had the Qing officials not considered the British demands, they had misplaced them. Zhang became nervous and warned his superiors that the city was in danger. “Don’t worry and talk slowly” is the advice he received.

When his answers to the British questions showed that his superiors neither could show the Emperor’s authorization or agreement to the terms, the British grew angry and promised to begun firing the next day.

When Zhang reported that, there was a scramble on the Qing side. They considered the options of fighting or settling, they found the British demands and around midnight presented the agreed treaty.

Zhang Xi was burning with sorrow. But one of his colleagues reminded him to keep his sense of proportion. The Han dynasty, after all, used to send 5000 pounds of gold to the barbarians to keep them from invading. “You should not feel so badly in your heart.”

The British paid particular attention to the document from the Emperor appointing the Qing officials as his representatives. They wanted to ensure the treaty was binding and authorized by the Emperor. Major Malcolm, Secretary of the legation, showed his Royal Patent that contained Queen Victoria’s Great Seal of the Realm.

Once the treaty was signed, the mood relaxed. Yilibu and Qiying boarded Pottinger’s ship. They bowed deeply to a portrait of Queen Victoria and left soon thereafter. The Governor General Niu Jian was enjoying the cherry brandy.

On August 24th, the pleasantries were reversed and the British highest officials were invited to the Imperial Commissioners apartments, with much food and many speeches.

On August 26th, Pottinger returned. After a feast, they finalized the treaty. But importantly, the Qing officials were quick to agree, but did not want to spend time on the details of the phrasing. The British noted that European diplomats would have agonized over each term. Those terms did not take a moment of the Qing officials’ attention. Instead, they were keen to have the British leave as soon as possible.

This lack of clarity on wording would be a cause of the Second Opium War, which would start before the decade was up.

In the English version of the treaty, traders would have the right of residence in the port city of Guangzhou. But the Chinese understood it to be the right of temporary residence, during trading season. This disagreement on whether traders needed to leave the port city each year led to tensions and was a major cause of the second war.

But for now, the first Opium War was over. The Emperor relented and did not refuse it. There were four copies, two in English and two in Chinese, that were signed on August 29, 1842. The pages were bound together with ribbon, because the British feared the Qing officials would try to hide unpopular pages from the Emperor and wanted him to receive the full treaty. The British were leaving and Nanjing was spared from attack.

Qiying was happy. “To rescue thousands and millions and lives in Jiangsu and Zhejiang is a great savings.”

But ultimately, the Emperor was disappointed with the result. “You have let me down, and the empire,” he told Yilibi and Qiying.

Today, in China, the Opium War is taught as the beginning of a century of humiliations for China and the first unequal treaty.

In Britain, the war is barely remembered at all.