Chapter II: The Flight to Jehol

The causes and history of the invasion of North China by the allied forces of England and France are too well known to need re-stating here, but the part played by Yehonala in the stirring days which preceded and followed the flight to Jehol are not familiar to European readers. Most interesting details are given on this subject by a certain Doctor of Letters and member of the Hanlin Academy, whose diary was printed privately in narrative form several years later, and from this document the following extracts are taken. It was originally entitled “A Record of Grief Incurable” and, as will be noted, it is primarily a monument of filial piety, into which the doings of the barbarians, and the already dominant personality of Yehonala, are artlessly interwoven, with a certain quality of sincerity that attracts. The narrative itself is full of human interest.

“In the 7th Moon of the ‘Keng Shen’ year (August 1860), five or
six days after my mother fell sick, rumours began to circulate
that the barbarians had already reached Taku. It was generally
known that many Memorials had reached the Throne from the
metropolitan and provincial officials, but as no mention of
them had appeared in the Gazette, it was only natural that
there should be a very widespread feeling of uneasiness and
many alarming rumours. So far, however, there had been no
fleeing from the city. His Majesty was seriously ill, and
it was known that he wished to leave for the north, but the
Imperial Concubine Yi and Prince Seng dissuaded him from this
and assured him that the barbarians would never enter the city.

“At this time my mother was suffering from dysentery, but
she ordered the servants to keep it from me. It was only one
day, when I noticed a prescription lying on her table, that I
realised that she was indeed seriously ill. Doctor Liu was in
attendance, as usual, but I never had any confidence in him or
his methods, which seemed to me far too drastic. Nevertheless
he had advised and attended her for seven years, and my mother
and all her household placed implicit confidence in him.
Alas, the Ancients have rightly said that a good son should
know something of the principles of medicine, and surely my
ignorance has been the first cause of my mother’s death. Though
I should give up my life a hundred times, how can I ever atone
for this?

“During the next few days, people began to leave Peking, for
the report was spread that our troops had been defeated at
Taku, and that a Brigadier General was among the slain; the
garrison had fled from Pei T’ang and the forts were in the
hands of the barbarians. Prince Seng had been ordered by
Edict not to fight a pitched battle, so that our forces were
idly confronting the enemy. Nothing definite was known as to
the real cause of our defeat, and the people, being kept in
ignorance, gradually got over their first alarm.

“On the 13th of the 7th Moon, I noticed a change for the worse
in my mother’s condition, and straightway applied for ten days’
leave of absence from my official duties. I kept her ignorant
of the political situation and urged her to abstain from worry
of every kind. But every-day the news was worse, and people
began to leave the city in thousands.

“On the following day, Magistrate Li Min-chai looked in to say
good-bye, as he was leaving to join the troops in Anhui. He
expressed strong disapproval of Dr. Liu’s prescription and gave
me one of his own. My mother was averse to taking his medicine,
but I persuaded her to do so. In the night she was suddenly
seized with shortness of breath, and hastily I sent for Mr. Li,
who assured me that this was in no way due to his medicine.
My mother, however, insisted upon returning to Dr. Liu’s
prescription, so all I could do was to urge him to compound
it of drugs less strong and more suited to a patient of my
mother’s advanced years.

“My mother then bade me to prepare her coffin as she was
certain that her death was near. Fortunately I had bought
the wood eight years before at Mukden, and had stored it in
a coffin shop in Peking, whence I now had it fetched. We set
carpenters to work in our court-yard, and by the 20th, the
coffin was finished. The wood was beautifully thick, and the
whole appearance of the coffin most creditable. Never could
I have expected that at such a time of haste and general
disorder so perfect a piece of work could have been produced.
The carpenters assured me that at the present time such a
coffin would cost at least a thousand taels in Peking.[2] This
comforted me not a little.

“Next morning the lacquer shop people sent over to put on the
first coating of lacquer, in which at least two pounds were
used. We then sent for the tailor and six assistants to make
the grave clothes and purchased the materials for my mother’s
ceremonial ‘going away dress.’ I had a long sable robe made
up, but next day, as my mother appeared to be slightly better,
I decided to postpone having the long outer robes prepared.
Rumours were now rife that the barbarians had already reached
T’ungchou, and were going to bombard Peking on the 27th, so
that everyone was escaping who could leave the city. On the
27th, we put on the second coating of lacquer.

“On that day, our troops captured the barbarian leader
Pa Hsia-li (Parkes) together with eight others, who were
imprisoned in the Board of Punishments. Thereupon the whole
city was in an uproar, and it became known that His Majesty was
preparing to leave on a tour northwards. But the Concubine Yi
persuaded some of the older officials to memorialise, urging
him to remain, none of which Memorials have been published.
All the Manchu and Chinese officials were now sending their
families away and their valuables, but the large shops outside
the main gate were doing business as usual. My mother’s
condition remained much the same, and I applied for another ten
days’ leave.

“On the 1st of the 8th Moon, we applied another coating of
lacquer to the coffin. On the same day Dr. Liu changed my
mother’s medicine, but, the dysentery continued unabated.

“On the 4th my mother called me to her bedside and said: ‘I
cannot possibly recover. See that all is prepared for the
burial. I shall take no food to-day.’ I felt as if a knife had
been thrust into my vitals, and sent straightway for the tailor
to hurry on with the ceremonial robes. My friend, P’an Yu-shih,
called and recommended a purgative, but my mother was very
angry, and refused point-blank to take it. In the night she had
a violent attack of vomiting, which seemed to relieve her—so
much so, that I told the tailor not to be in too great a hurry.
Next morning the robes were finished, but my mother thought
the coverlet too heavy, and I substituted therefor a lighter
material, silk. To this she objected as being too luxurious and
more expensive than she had any right to expect; she observed
that her parents-in-law had not had grave-wrappings of such
valuable stuff. Meanwhile the confusion in Peking was hourly
increasing, and huge crowds were hurrying from the city. Most
of the city gates were closed for fear of the barbarians, but
the ‘Chang-yi’ gate in the southern city was still open.

“On the 7th, our troops engaged the barbarians outside the Ch’i
Hua gate. The van was composed of untrained Mongol cavalry,
who had never been in action. No sooner had the barbarians
opened fire than they turned as one man, broke their ranks and
stampeded upon the infantry in their rear. Many were trampled
to death, and a general rout followed, our men fleeing in every
direction and the barbarians pressing on to the city walls.

“Certain Princes and Ministers besought the Concubine Yi to
induce the Emperor to leave on a tour. His Majesty was only too
anxious to start at once, but the Concubine Yi persuaded two
of the Grand Secretaries to memorialise against his doing so,
and in response to this a Decree was issued stating that under
no circumstances would the Emperor leave his capital. Another
Decree was put out by the Concubine Yi offering large rewards
to any who should slay the barbarians. It was generally
thought that the Emperor would now forgo his intended departure.

“Early next morning we heard the news of another engagement
outside the Ch’i Hua gate, upon which news His Sacred Majesty,
attended by all his concubines, the Princes, Ministers and
Dukes, and all the officers of the Household, left the city
in a desperate rout and disorder unspeakable, affording a
spectacle that gave the impression that hordes of barbarians
were already in close pursuit. As a matter of fact, the
foreigners were still at a considerable distance, and at
the Summer Palace, where the Court lay, there was nothing
whatsoever to cause the slightest apprehension. I cannot
understand why His Majesty was allowed to leave; up to the
very last the Yi Concubine begged him to remain in his Palace,
as his presence there could not fail to awe the barbarians,
and thus to exercise a protecting influence for the good of
the city and people. How, said she, could the barbarians be
expected to spare the city if the Sacred Chariot had fled,
leaving unprotected the tutelary shrines and the altars of the
gods? She begged him to bear in mind that episode in the Chou
Dynasty, when the Son of Heaven fled his capital, ‘his head
covered with dust,’ and was forced to take refuge with one of
his feudatory Princes. The Chinese people have always regarded
this as a humiliating event in the history of their country,
but the present flight of the Court appears more humiliating
still.

“Meantime my mother’s condition was becoming critical, and I
had scant leisure for considering the political situation.
Every official of any standing had either left the capital
by this time or was leaving, and all the merchants who could
afford it were sending their families away. The cost of
transport was prohibitive for many; the price of a cart with
one mule to go to Cho-chou was twenty taels, and to Pao-ting fu
(60 miles) they charged thirty taels. In my case there could be
no question of removing my mother, and there was nothing for it
therefore but to sit still and face the situation.

“As the dysentery grew more acute every day, with Dr. Liu’s
permission I tried Dr. Yang’s prescription. It was, however,
too late, and nothing could help her now. On the morning
of the 12th she was _in extremis_, and had lost the power
of swallowing; so we sent for Li, the tailor, to put a few
finishing touches on the burial robes, and to prepare the
‘cockcrow pillow’ and coverlets. At 11 P.M. she passed away,
abandoning her most undutiful son. Alas, there is no doubt that
her death lies at my door, because of my ignorance of medicine.
Smiting my body against the ground, I invoke Heaven, but ten
thousand separate deaths could not atone for my sins.

“We arrayed her, then, in her robes. First her handmaiden put
on the inner garments, a chemise of white silk, then a jacket
of grey silk, and outside that a wadded robe of blue satin.
Then were put on the robe and mantle of State, with the badge
of her official rank, the jade girdle and necklace of amber.
After the gold hair ornaments had been placed in position, the
Phœnix hat was set upon her head; red mattresses were laid upon
the couch, and we placed her in a comfortable position, with
her head reclining on the ‘cockcrow’ pillow of red satin. Not
a friend came near us, and every door in the neighbourhood was
closed. Next morning I lined the coffin with red satin, and
then padded it with straw to prevent it shaking, and at 3 P.M.
I invited my mother to ascend into her ‘long home.’

“The city was in a terrible tumult, and a friend came in to
advise me to bury my mother temporarily in a temple outside
the city. It would not be safe, he said, to inter her in the
courtyard of this house, for the barbarian is suspicious by
nature, and will assuredly search every house in Peking as soon
as the city is taken. It was impossible for me to consider
calmly what might happen if they were to find and to desecrate
my mother’s coffin. I remembered what has been told of their
doings in Canton under similar circumstances.

“On the 14th, the ‘Chang-yi’ gate was opened, and I found
a temple, suitably situated, which the priest was willing
to allow me to rent. I prepared therefore to watch over my
mother’s remains, sending my family in the meanwhile to live
with an old pupil of mine at Pa-chou. Only the two western
gates of the Chinese city were still open, and as the Hata Men
and the Ch’ien Men had been closed for four days, the stream of
traffic through the Shun-chih Men caused perpetual blocks in
that gateway. All the small pedlars, hawkers and barbers were
fleeing the city, but still the large business houses remained
open.

“On the 19th I conveyed my mother’s remains to the temple;
I found all quiet there, but my progress through the city
gate was very slow because of the crowd. On the 23rd there
were but few people abroad, and these clustering together in
small groups and speaking in low voices. Suddenly, a little
after mid-day, an immense blaze was seen to the north-west,
and speedily it was reported that the barbarians had seized
Hai-tien and the Summer Palace. Our army is said to number
half a million men, and yet it seems that not one of them dare
oppose the barbarians’ advance. They have about a thousand of
cavalry, yet they move about at will in our midst as if in an
uninhabited wilderness! ’Tis passing strange! The troops of
Prince Seng and General Sheng have retreated to the Te-sheng
gate.

“On the 24th all the shops were closed, and the higher the
price of vehicles, the greater the number of people to wish to
engage them. The poorer class were using wheelbarrows, on which
they packed their most valuable moveables for flight.

“Prince Kung sent an Envoy to the barbarians’ camp with a
despatch asking for an armistice. On arriving in the vicinity
of the camp, however, the messenger saw the barbarians pointing
rifles at him, so that he turned and fled.

“On the afternoon of the 24th, vast columns of smoke were seen
rising to the north-west, and it was ascertained that the
barbarians had entered the Summer Palace, and after plundering
the three main halls, leaving them absolutely bare, they had
set fire to the buildings. Their excuse for this abominable
behaviour is that their troops got out of hand, and had
committed the incendiarism. After this they issued notices,
placarded everywhere, in very bad Chinese, stating that unless
terms of peace had been arranged before mid-day on the 29th,
they would then bombard Peking, in which case all inhabitants
who did not wish to share the fate of the city had better
remove themselves to a safe distance.

“On this day it was reported that The Sacred Chariot had
reached Jehol in safety, but His Majesty had been greatly
alarmed, and had issued a Decree expressing regret for his
failure to commit suicide on the approach of the invaders. The
Emperor is reported to be ill, and it is said that the Princes
Tsai Yüan and Tuan Hua are trying to get themselves appointed
to the Grand Council. Should the Emperor die (_lit._ ‘when
ten thousand years have passed’) the Yi concubine will be
made Empress Dowager, but at present she is reported to be at
variance with the Princes, who are endeavouring to prejudice
the Emperor against her.

“I learnt that all was quiet at the temple where my mother’s
coffin rests. Troops were passing there daily, but, so far,
none had occupied it. On the 29th, my servant-boy, Yung ’Erh,
came to tell me that troops from Tientsin in the pay of the
barbarians had occupied the temple, but on proceeding thither I
found them to be General Sheng’s men. Prince Seng’s troops were
also near at hand, so that, if a bombardment had taken place,
what could have prevented the destruction of the temple, and
what would then have become of my mother’s remains? I therefore
decided to engage wheelbarrows and handcarts, at six taels
apiece, to take my family to Pao-ting fu, and I arranged with
the undertakers to hire bearers for the coffin.

“At 11 A.M. of the same day the barbarians entered the
city by the Anting gate, occupying its tower and the wall
adjoining. One large cannon and four small ones were placed
in position on the wall, and a five-coloured flag hoisted
there. With the exception of the officials entrusted with the
duty of negotiating, not one remained in the city. Two days
ago the prisoner Parkes, and his companions, were sent back
to the enemy with every mark of courtesy. Scarcely had they
reached their camp when a special Decree, post-haste from
Jehol, ordered Prince Kung to decapitate them all forthwith
as a warning to the bandits who had dared to invade the
sacred precincts of the Palace. As the Yi concubine had urged
their execution from the very first, it would seem as if her
influence were again in the ascendant.

“On the 1st of the 9th Moon, the ‘Chang-yi’ gate was closed,
but I managed to leave the city by the Hsi-pien Men, where I
was nearly crushed to death in the enormous crowd. Upon my
arrival at the temple, I had a nice wadded cover made to put
over the coffin, and then hurried back to the city to arrange
for the cortège leaving next morning. The President of the
Board of Finance, Liang Hai-lou, was hiding in the temple
precincts with his family and chief concubine, all wearing
common clothes and unshaven. This is a good example of the
condition to which the very highest had been reduced.

“Next morning, on reaching the temple, I found the
coffin-bearers and transport coolies on the spot. But,
unfortunately, in my hurry, I failed to notice that the
undertakers had supplied the frame, on which the coffin is
carried, of a size smaller than had been agreed upon, so that
instead of sixteen bearers there were but eight. We started,
however, and the procession’s appearance of panic-stricken
fugitives was most distressing to contemplate. But what could
I do? The first and only object in my mind was to protect
my mother’s coffin. I have omitted to state that my small
servant-boy, Yung ’Erh, had started to accompany the coffin
on foot. But, after they had started, it occurred to me that
the lad could never stand so long a journey, and that should
my mother be aware of it, she would be extremely anxious about
him. Therefore, I quickly engaged another wheelbarrow for Yung
’Erh, and bade the coolies hurry after the procession.

“On returning home I felt uneasy about the jolting which my
mother’s coffin must have experienced on the undersized frame.
I went, therefore, to the undertakers and expostulated with
them for having cheated me. After much altercation they agreed
to change the frame, but I was to pay two taels more for
the larger size. I subsequently learned that they failed to
keep their promise, but there was no good to be got by suing
them for breach of faith. They are sordid tricksters. Yung
’Erh wrote, however, to assure me that the party had reached
Pao-ting fu in safety, and that the coffin had not been jolted
in the least. On removing the wrappings the lacquer was found
to be undamaged.

“The barbarians were now in full possession of the city, and
rumours were rife on all sides. Everyone in Peking—there
were still a good many people—was terrified, and the Manchus
were sending their families from the Tartar to the southern
(Chinese) city to save their women from being outraged by the
barbarian bandits. The condition of the people was indeed
deplorable in the extreme. One of the Censors had sent a
Memorial to Jehol, reproaching the Emperor for the pass to
which he had brought his people, and for the neglect of
ancestral worship caused by his absence. He blamed His Majesty
for listening to evil advisers, and besought him to return to
his capital.

“The minds of the people were becoming more than ever
disturbed, because it was now reported that the negotiations
for peace had so far failed, either because Prince Kung would
not entertain the barbarians’ conditions, or because the latter
were too utterly preposterous.

“On the 6th, a despatch arrived from the British barbarians,
accusing China of having violated all civilised usage in
torturing to death their fellow-countrymen. For this they
demanded an indemnity of 500,000 taels. At the same time came
a despatch from the Russian barbarians, saying that they had
heard that England was demanding this indemnity, but they (the
Russians) were prepared to use their influence and good offices
to persuade the British to abate their claims. Prince Kung was
of opinion that, even if they should be successful in this
proposed mediation, China would only save some 100,000 taels,
and for this she would place herself under heavy obligations
to Russia. So he replied, declining the offer on the ground
that the British claim had already been accepted by China, and
that further discussion of the matter was therefore impossible.
Thereupon the Russians wrote again, saying that if China had
definitely accepted the British terms there was, of course,
nothing more to be said, but they asked Prince Kung to note
that they had induced England to forgo half of the indemnity of
two million taels originally asked, as a set-off to China for
the destruction of the Summer Palace. On the 9th, Prince Kung
forwarded the 500,000 taels to the British barbarians.

“The whole sixteen articles of the barbarians’ demands have
finally been accepted without modification. The only thing
that our negotiators asked was the immediate withdrawal of the
invading army, and to obtain this they were prepared to yield
everything. Therefore, the barbarians openly flout China for
her lack of men. Woe is me; a pitiful tale, and one hard to
tell! When the Yi concubine heard of Prince Kung’s complete
surrender to the barbarians she reproached the Emperor for
allowing his brother to negotiate, and she implored him to
re-open hostilities. But His Majesty was dangerously ill, and
refused to leave Jehol, so that our revenge must be postponed
for the time being.”

Bearing in mind the frequent allusions made by the Hanlin diarist to the Emperor’s indecision of purpose at the time of the advance of the British and French armies on Peking, it is reasonable to assume that Yehonala prompted, if she did not write, the following vigorous Edict, which appeared on the 3rd day of the 8th Moon in the 10th year of Hsien-Feng (6th September 1860):—

“Swaying the wide world, we are nevertheless animated by one
and the same instinct of benevolence to all. We have never
forbidden England and France to trade with China, and for long
years there has been peace between them and us. But three years
ago the English, for no good cause, invaded our city of Canton,
and carried off our officials into captivity. We refrained at
that time from taking any retaliatory measures, because we
were compelled to recognise that the obstinacy of the Viceroy
Yeh had been in some measure a cause of the hostilities. Two
years ago the barbarian Commander Elgin came north, and we then
commanded the Viceroy of Chihli, T’an Ting-hsiang, to look into
matters preparatory to negotiations. But the barbarian took
advantage of our unreadiness, attacking the Taku forts and
pressing on to Tientsin. Being anxious to spare our people the
horrors of war, we again refrained from retaliation and ordered
Kuei Liang to discuss terms of peace. Notwithstanding the
outrageous nature of the barbarians’ demands, we subsequently
ordered Kuei Liang to proceed to Shanghai in connection with
the proposed Treaty of Commerce, and even permitted its
ratification as earnest of our good faith.

“In spite of all this the barbarian leader Bruce again
displayed intractability of the most unreasonable kind and
once more appeared off Taku with a squadron of warships in the
8th Moon. Seng Ko Lin Ch’in thereupon attacked him fiercely and
compelled him to make a hasty retreat. From all these facts it
is clear that China has committed no breach of faith and that
the barbarians have been in the wrong. During the present year
the barbarian leaders Elgin and Gros have again appeared off
our coasts, but China, unwilling to resort to extreme measures,
agreed to their landing and permitted them to come to Peking
for the ratification of the Treaty.

“Who could have believed that all this time these barbarians
have been darkly plotting and that they had brought with them
an army of soldiers and artillery, with which they attacked the
Taku forts from the rear, and, having driven out our forces,
advanced upon Tientsin! Once more we ordered Kuei Liang to go
to Tientsin and endeavour to reason with them, in the hope that
they might not be lost to all sense of propriety, and with the
full intention that their demands, if not utterly unreasonable,
should be conceded. To our utter astonishment, Elgin and his
colleague had the audacity to demand an indemnity from China;
they asked, too, that more Treaty ports should be opened, and
that they should be allowed to occupy our capital with their
army. To such lengths did their brutality and cunning lead
them! But we then commanded Prince Yi and Mu Yin, the President
of the Board of War, to endeavour to induce in them a more
reasonable spirit and to come to some satisfactory arrangement.
But these treacherous barbarians dared to advance their savage
soldiery towards Tungchow and to announce their intention of
compelling us to receive them in audience.

“Any further forbearance on our part would be a dereliction
of our duty to the Empire, so that we have now commanded our
armies to attack them with all possible energy and we have
directed the local gentry to organise train-bands, and with
them either to join in the attack or to block the barbarians’
advance. Hereby we make offer of the following rewards:—For
the head of a black barbarian, 50 taels, and for the head of
a white barbarian, 100 taels. For the capture of a barbarian
leader, alive or dead, 500 taels, and for the seizure or
destruction of a barbarian vessel, 5,000 taels. The inhabitants
of Tientsin are reputed brave. Let them now come forward and
rid us of these pestilential savages, either by open attack or
by artifice. We are no lovers of war, but all our people must
admit that this has been forced upon us.

“As to the barbarians’ seizure of portions of our territory in
Kuangtung and Fukhien, all our subjects are alike our children
and we will issue large rewards to any of them in the south who
shall present us with the head of a barbarian chief.

“These barbarians live in the remote parts of the earth, whence
they come to China for purposes of trade. Their outrageous
proceedings have, we understand, been encouraged by abominable
traitors among our own subjects. We now command that all the
Treaty ports be closed and all trade with England and France
stopped. Subjects of other submissive States are not to be
molested, and whensoever the British and French repent them of
their evil ways and return to their allegiance, we shall be
pleased to permit them to trade again, as of old, so that our
clemency may be made manifest. But should they persist in their
wicked violation of every right principle, our armies must
mightily smite them, and pledge themselves solemnly to destroy
utterly these evil-doers. May they repent while yet there is
time!”

Three days later Yehonala was present at the morning audience, when the Emperor made the following statement:—

“We learn that the barbarians continue to press upon our
capital. Their demands were all complied with, yet they insist
upon presenting to us in person their barbarous documents
of credentials, and demand that Prince Seng shall withdraw
his troops from Chang-Chia wan. Such insolence as this makes
further parley impossible. Prince Seng has gained one great
victory already, and now his forces are holding the enemy in
check at Palich’iao.”

Orders were issued that the landing of troops from the warships which had appeared off Kinchou should be stoutly resisted.

On the 7th of the Moon His Majesty sacrificed at the Temple of Confucius, but on the next morning he was afraid to come into the city from the Summer Palace, although he wished to sacrifice to the tutelary deities and inform them of his intended departure. Early on the following day Prince Kung was appointed Plenipotentiary in the place of Prince Yi (Tsai Yüan) and the Emperor, despite the brave wording of his Decree, fled from the capital, after making obeisance to the God of War in a small temple of the Palace grounds. In the Decree announcing his departure, the flight was described as an “autumn tour of inspection.”[3]

The Court started in utter confusion, but proceeded only some eighteen miles on the road northwards from Peking, stopping for the first night in a small temple. Here a Decree was issued calling upon all the Manchurian troops to hasten to Jehol for the protection of the Court. On the evening of the following day a Memorial was received from Prince Kung, reporting on the latest doings of the barbarians, but His Majesty ordered him, in reply, to take whatever steps he might think fit to deal with the situation. It was out of the question, said the Rescript, for the Emperor to decide on any course of action at a distance: in other words, the Throne divested itself of further responsibility.

On the 11th, the Court lay at the Imperial hunting lodge north of Mi-Yun hsien. The Chinese chronicler records that the Emperor was too sick to receive the Grand Council, and delegated his duties to Yehonala, who thereupon issued the following Decree:—

“We are informed that the pestilent barbarians are pressing
upon our capital, and our Ministers have asked us to summon
reinforcements from the provinces. Now the highest form
of military art is to effect sudden surprises, carefully
pre-arranged. The barbarians’ superiority lies in their
firearms, but if we can only bring them to a hand-to-hand
engagement they will be unable to bring their artillery to
bear, and thus shall our victory be assured. The Mongol and
Manchu horsemen are quite useless for this kind of warfare,
but the men of Hupei and Ssŭ-ch’uan are as agile as monkeys
and adepts at the use of cover in secret approaches. Let them
but surprise these bandits once, and their rout is inevitable.
Therefore let Tseng Kuo-fan, the Viceroy of Hukuang, send up
at least three thousand of his best troops to Peking, and let
as many be despatched from Ssŭ-ch’uan. Prince Seng’s troops
have been defeated again and again, and the capital is in great
danger. At such a crisis as this, there must be no delay; it
is our earnest hope that a sufficient force will speedily be
collected, so that we may be rid of this poisonous fever-cloud.
For bravery and good service, there will be great rewards. A
most important Decree.”

At the Court’s halting place at Pa-Ko shih, close to the Great Wall, a Memorial came in from Prince Seng Ko Lin Ch’in, stating that small scouting parties of the barbarian troops had been seen in the neighbourhood of Peking, but that as yet there had been no general bombardment. A Rescript was issued as follows:—

“Inasmuch as it would appear that the pertinacity of these
barbarians will only increase with opposition, it seems
desirable to come to terms with them as soon as possible.
With reference to the French barbarian Gros’s petition to be
permitted to discuss matters with Prince Kung in person, at
Peking, we command the Prince to receive him. But should the
bandits attempt to approach the city in force, Prince Seng
should take them in the rear and cut off their retreat. If
by any chance, however, Peking should be already taken, let
the Mongol regiments be sent up to the Great Wall for the
protection of our person.”

After a leisurely journey, the Court reached Jehol on the 18th. On the 20th, the opinion of the advisers of the Emperor seemed to be in favour of continuing the war at all costs. A Decree was issued, referring to the fact that the foreign troops had dared to encamp near the Summer Palace, and forbidding Prince Kung to spare the lives of any captured barbarians upon any pretext whatsoever. To this Prince Kung replied stating that the prisoners had already been released and that the Anting gate had been surrendered to the foreigners. Prince Kung, in fact, was statesman enough to realise that the only chance for China lay in submission; he therefore ignored the Imperial Decrees. Before long the Emperor was persuaded to allow negotiations to be resumed, and on the 15th of the 9th Moon he confirmed the Treaty, which had been signed in Peking, in the following Edict:—

“Prince Kung, duly appointed by us to be Plenipotentiary,
concluded, on the 11th and 12th days of this Moon, Treaties
of Peace with the British and the French. Hereafter amity is
to exist between our nations in perpetuity, and the various
conditions of the Treaty are to be strictly observed by all.”