Building up Steam: Steamship Technology in 19Th Century East Asian Colonial Warfare Matthew Mclin

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2012 Building Up Steam: Steamship Technology in 19th Century East Asian Colonial Warfare Matthew McLin

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BUILDING UP STEAM: STEAMSHIP TECHNOLOGY IN 19TH CENTURY EAST ASIAN COLONIAL WARFARE

By MATTHEW MCLIN

A Thesis submitted to the Program in Asian Studies in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Master of Arts

Degree Awarded: Fall Semester, 2012

Matthew McLin defended this thesis on October 25th, 2012. The members of the supervisory committee were:

Jonathan Grant Professor Directing Thesis

Claudia Liebeskind Committee Member

Charles Upchurch Committee Member

The Graduate School has verified and approved the above-named committee members, and certifies that the thesis has been approved in accordance with university requirements. ii

To Nami

iii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS I would like to express my thanks to Dr. Jonathan Grant for his direction in the preparation of this thesis. His guidance made the process far easier and rewarding than expected. Also, I would like to thank Dr.

Whitney Bendeck for her constant guidance and advice in my graduate career and this thesis. She has set me a fine example for the support professors should give to students, and the professionalism necessary in an academic career.

TABLE OF CONTENTS Abstract ...... vi

1. INTRODUCTION ...... 1

2. THE BURMA WARS: MARCH 1824-FEB. 1826 & APRIL 1852-DEC. 1852 ...... 12

3. THE FIRST ANGLO-SINO WAR: NOV. 1839 -AUG.1842 ...... 32

4. THE PERRY EXPEDITION: JULY 1853 - APRIL 1854 ...... 58

5. CONCLUSION ...... 76

REFERENCES ...... 82

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH...... 85

ABSTRACT The invention of the steamship had a widespread effect on both the world of trade and military

conflict. However, current scholarship does not give sufficient credit to how important this piece of technology was. While not the sole cause of victory in colonial warfare, nor a guarantee of victory, the steamship was an indispensable tool in the expansion of colonialism in the 19th

century. Allowing for the tactics of gunboat diplomacy, lightning fast wars, and vast

improvements in logistics, the path of European colonialism was shaped by the steamship.

In the Anglo-Burmese Wars, First Anglo-Sino War, and the Perry Expedition steamships

were used to great effect in gaining favorable concessions and terms of trade for Europeans.

Specifically, steamships allowed European forces to penetrate far further inland than was

previously possible. Without such penetration, the large, centralized capitals of Ava, Peking, and

Edo could not be threatened. Facing political challenges at home, the humiliation and danger of

submission to foreign will had to be balanced by sufficient threat to these governments’ very seats of power. Connected to this was improvements in logistics and the health of troops would see the cost of conducting these wars to a point of cost-effectiveness necessary. These conflicts were largely undertaken in an attempt to create new sources of revenue for European countries, and the steamship was invaluable in reducing the cost of waging war to an acceptable level. Lack of political unity and centrally located governments on the Asian side increased the efficacy of steamships. While not an immutable guarantee of victory, the steamship molded the type of imperialism seen and thus the world we know today.

CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION Technological innovation has affected the course of history, playing a part in many major historical events. The history of European imperial expansion from the 16th to 20th centuries would likewise be facilitated by new technologies. The ability of European powers to use superior technology in order to impose their will upon less technologically advanced people has shaped the modern world.

The initial wave of expansion, led by the Portuguese and Spanish empires, would see trade and colonies established in the Americas, Asia, and Africa. Later, England, France, and others would expand their borders in these areas as well. Britain, in particular, would see great success in establishing dominion over Africa and Asia. With the exception of India, however, their control would be limited to the coasts of these large continents. Technologically weak but large inland empires such as Burma and China would remain unassailable, due to European's lack of ability to project military power inland (Headrick, p. 18). Likewise, nations like Japan would present other geographical challenges that could not be overcome until the 19th century.

With few exceptions, the idea of marching troops far inland, away from supply lines, was suicidal. European troop levels were generally quite low in colonial areas, and while many battles of the 19th century would show how a small force of Europeans wielding firearms could overcome vastly numerically superior local forces, lack of resupply, the inability to carry heavy artillery along, and the constant threat of disease would make such inland campaigns impractical or impossible (Headrick, pp. 45; 50; 63). The notable exception to this trend, that of the British conquest of India, was made possible largely due to the considerable lack of political unity in the

Indian subcontinent, and the patient exploitation of land grants by the East India Company 1

(Moon, p. 5). Even then, Britain was assailed by France for much of the early period of their time in India, and the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857 would show how vulnerable the EIC was to even a semi- organized resistance to their rule (Moon, p. 734).

However, by the dawning of the 20th century, colonial possessions of European powers had expanded to around sixty-seven percent of Earth's landmass; an expansion from thirty five percent in 1800 (Headrick, p. 4). These expansions were mainly into the interior of previously unassailable Asian powers and the interior of Africa. While improvements in firearms and medicine, as well as political instability in these nations would help, another key piece of technology facilitated these conquests to a large degree. The steamship, while acknowledge in scholarship as an important piece of technology, was a tool without which many colonial conflicts could not have been won by European powers. This work will be an attempt to redress the lack of emphasis place upon the steamships tactical importance in colonial warfare during the

19th century. Scholars1 have failed to fully appreciate just how crucial steamship technology was in these conflicts, and thus European success in conquering a greater part of the world's landmass cannot be properly understood. As stated before, percussion cap muskets and quinine, among other inventions, were likewise vital to these conflicts. However, without steamships the victories of European powers in Burma, China, and Japan simply could not have been accomplished.

The steamship, first suggested in the 17th century, went through a long period of trial and error before it would finally be developed to the point that governments would consider including them as auxiliary naval forces. However, with a few minor exceptions, most navies

1 For the research done for this thesis, authors such as Feifer, Bruce, Elleman, Gelber, and Headrick to a lesser extent make mention of steamship technology. However, they fail to connect this technology concretely to a wide range of victories 2

around the world were quite hesitant to have steam-powered ships replace those driven by sail.

Fuel efficiency, danger of boiler explosions, limited range and cargo space were among the issues that would see steam relegated to a secondary propulsion source until the introduction of the iron screw steamer after 1850.

While many naval forces were hesitant to allow steamers to grow in proportion to their sail counterparts, the East India Company, and the US Navy to a lesser extent, would embrace the technology with far more fervor.

The East India Company would be a voracious consumer for steamers, offering prizes for those inventors that could establish a faster connection to Europe, and buying up whatever vessels happened to come into their ports. The Peiho, Pearl, Irrawaddy, Indus, Yangtze, and

Euphrates rivers all could be penetrated once steam vessels arrived in Asia. Additionally, the lack of enemy battleships in the area allowed the EIC to focus on building a purely steam navy

(Gardiner “Shellfire”, p. 27, p. 28) Likewise, new routes home were rendered far more viable by the utilization of steam. Specifically, the use of steamers between the United Kingdom and

Alexandria would provide the first leg of a new mail route that would decrease the time taken to communicate with London considerably, down from around two years to as little as two months

(Headrick, p. 130). The Honorable Company would also attempt to build steamers locally in

India. Teak, available in large quantities in eastern India and Burma was superior to English oak in that it was more resistant to rot in the humid weather of Asia (Gardiner, p. 37). However, the

Company would most generally buy these ships and have them either sail directly to India, or dissemble them and have them shipped via the Horn of Africa on sailing vessels (Gardiner, p.

37).

For the EIC steamers presented a possible solution to their growing financial woes. Their holdings in India were having difficulty meeting the Home Charges due to London, and economic depression in the 1820's would only exacerbate the problem (Cain, p. 282) . By improving the speed and reliability of shipping to allowing annexation of neighboring territories in order to "create new revenue streams" the steamer presented a new hope for Governor

Generals like Dalhousie (Cain, p. 280). Likewise, the exportation of opium to China would provide a healthy source of income to the Company and the First Anglo-Sino War would be, in part, an attempt to open a market for Britain and India's cotton goods (Cain, p. 362). While rarely fully successful, the ability to either outright annex valuable territory like Pegu or pressure sovereign states in opening their markets helped the EIC deal with an increasingly grim balance sheet (Cain, p. 281).

The United States Navy would, at first, adopt a lukewarm attitude towards steamers until their worth was proved in the Mexican-American War (Gardiner “Shellfire”, p.

27, p. 27). Like many other nations of the era, the United States was most concerned with the power of the British on the sea. However, as most steamers of the Royal Navy were limited to service in Asia, the Channel, and the Mediterranean, the threat of hostile steamships appearing off America's coast was remote (Gardiner “Shellfire”, p. 27, p. 27). The Navy was concerned, however, with American's westward expansion. As the United States was caught up in the fervor of Manifest Destiny, the issue of how to protect these new acquisitions on the other side of the

Appalachian Mountains had to be addressed (Gardiner, p. 63). Until the creation of an extensive and reliable railway system, steamships provided the best way to access these distant territories, helped by the fact that wooded areas on the banks of American rivers offered free fuel to steamers (Rowland, p. 44). America has a number of large rivers giving extensive access to the

country; an arterial system the navy could make use of to provide quickly deploy military force

to where it was needed. In the Mexican-American War, steamers would provide excellent service in river combat, and convince the navy of the need to expand the American steam navy; many merchant steamers had to be pressed into service during the conflict. Not wanting to be caught unprotected again, American investment in steam would expand (Gardiner “Shellfire”, p. 27).

Thus, when America would send a veteran of that conflict, Matthew Perry, to Japan to demand the establishment of relations and trade, America was in possession of a steam fleet larger than most other countries.

For all its successes in East Asia, the steamship was not the only factor that facilitated victory nor an absolute guarantor of victory. Early expeditions up the Niger river would fail due to disease, mainly malaria, sometimes costing entire European crews their lives. MacGregor

Laird, an advocate of the steamship in Britain, would be permanently crippled by a bout of malaria on such a trip (Headrick, p. 62). Even with the invention of quinine, it would be some time before its efficacy was proven sufficiently to see it embraced by the larger medical

community and proper dosages agreed upon (Headrick, p. 69). However, still being hideously expensive it would only be in the very last decades of the 19th century when new stocks of the drug could be created in the Dutch Indies and India (Headrick, p. 71). Then also was the fact that different strains of malaria reacted differently to the medicine and further stalled progress into the African continent. While the steamship provided the transportation, it would be a long time before medicine caught up, rendering the progress in steam power a moot point in Africa until the 1880s (Headrick, pp. 67, 71). Likewise, other pieces of technology cannot be discounted. In the Second Burmese War and Opium Wars, British troops would be armed with the percussion cap musket. Able to fire even in inclement weather, it was an important improvement that

allowed for fewer troops being lost in combat (Elleman p. 26). Also, as stated in the study on the

Second Burmese War, improvements in logistics would see disease rates drops, allow troops to penetrate further inland, and provide better shelter for the troops (Moon, p. 631). Additionally, the evacuation of soldiers under medics most likely helped stem the tide of communicable diseases like cholera and dysentery.

It is not the suggestion of this study that the steamship alone paved the way to European domination of Asia in the 19th century. Rather, the steamship was an invaluable tool in that domination. Without accompanying technologies and the necessity of these wars due to financial woes of the EIC and financial aspirations of the Americans, the steamship could not be said to have been anywhere near as important. Yet, its invention allowed for the course of imperialism seen to have played out in the 19th century, and thus its importance should be highlighted in order to better understand the course of history.

Current studies of 19th century colonial warfare do make mention of the importance of steamship technology in these conflicts. Many examples are given of difficult campaigns undertaken by Europeans forces; the hardships due to the inaccessibility to the interior and the illness inducing climates common of conflict areas. Headrick's Tools of Empire quite explicitly mentions the importance of both quinine and, importantly for this study, that of the Nemesis in

China. Otherwise, there is little that gives due weight to the importance of steamships in colonial conflicts, especially in Asia. While the First Anglo-Burmese war would see the first use of a steamer in war, the Diana, no study at present makes explicit how much more quickly the East

India Company under Marquis Dalhousie was able to establish bases before the illness inducing monsoon season set in. Likewise, no source that this author is aware of discusses the tactical advantage of being able to proceed against the current of the Irrawaddy in the dry season. Bruce's 6

The Burma Wars: 1824-1886 is a wonderful accomplishment in showing from records of soldiers themselves just how difficult the situation was in the First Burmese War and how much improved the situation was in the second conflict. Moon's The British Conquest and Dominion of

India does make note of how the EIC planned the invasion during the first war along the

Irrawaddy. However, both of these authors fail to connect victory in the second war with the introduction of steamships. Without steam, the British forces were forced to travel with the favorable monsoon winds and in deeper water during the rainy season. Even taking the introduction of quinine mentioned by Headrick into account, the difference in disease statistics between the two conflicts is staggering. Marquis Dalhousie's correspondence is quite valuable for examining the day-to-day decision-making process in the Second Burmese War. However, such letters must be examined with a critical eye as such sources may be biased, redacted, or otherwise affected by the political landscape at the time.

As stated before, Headrick's book in one of the only studies available that is explicit on the importance of the Nemesis and her sister ships in allowing access to the Yangtze and Peiho rivers during the First Opium War. Other sources, such as Gelber's Opium, Soldiers, and

Evangelicals, paints a very realistic picture of the difficulties the mostly sepoy army faced in

China and his Dragon and the Foreign Devils sets out the pattern of inequality during early

English missions to Peking. Elleman, in Modern Chinese Warfare, also mentions the ability of the Nemesis to ascend the rivers of China. Yet, few authors, among which Headrick stands out, connects the weakness of available British troops and the intransience of the Chinese court to agreement to British terms. Without demonstrating that major Chinese cities at the heart of the

Qing's holdings could be taken, a demonstration aptly given by the Nemesis, Peking was not likely to weaken their hold over the throne by capitulating to foreign interests.

Finally, the study of Perry's expedition to Japan seems to rest upon the assumption that

the Japanese were horribly behind in technology, and could not have held back an American

attack. Much of the scholarship around the expedition tends to revolve around Perry himself, such as Barrow's The Great Commodore or Morison's Old Bruin. Otherwise, as in Breaking

Open Japan, great emphasis is placed upon the political turmoil present in Japan at the time, and

Feifer should be highly praised for his examination of Japanese primary sources which illuminate the previously unknown politicking that took place on the Japanese end. However, in the collected journals of Perry and others on the expedition, it is clear that the American mission did not hold such a feeling of invincibility that is given by some later biographers of Perry.

Journals, while always necessitating wariness due to their inherently biased nature, can provide a wealth of data that is more or less uncolored by the views of the writer. Additionally, Perry must be praised for demanding many military and civilian officers of the expedition keep journals.

Thus, we have a gamut of viewpoints and opinions on the American side. The journal of Heine, that of a rather unbiased military man, provides interesting insight into the practical military situation, and the journal of Dr. Williams provides a half academic, half missionary point of view. Additionally, we are fortunate that many officers kept such detailed journals, occasionally failing to hand them over to Perry after the mission, and thus can learn a great deal from their marine expertise and gain, potentially, insight into their, feelings and views free of self- censorship.

During the initial meeting between Perry and the representatives of the military government, American firepower had been rendered moot by the fact the Americans were face to face with 17,000 Japanese soldiers (Morison, p. 325). The two steamers in gun range could not fire for fear of killing their own men and the three hundred or so sailors could not have held out

long against the far larger Japanese forces; one sailor estimated it would be a slaughter that would only take the Japanese half an hour to complete (Feifer, p. 121). Current research seems to dismiss these facts, occasionally stating that larger American forces would have invariably come to extract revenge had Perry been touched. Yet, Perry was repeatedly denied additional forces for his return voyage, and was never given the force he was promised (Walworth, pp. 128-132).

Trouble was brewing, in the form of the Taiping, elsewhere in Asia. Likewise, the American

Navy was not strong enough to bring overwhelming force to bear on the Japanese. It is estimated some 500,000 samurai could have been raised to fight off any invasion, and plans were suggested to arm the peasantry. While any American force would possess far more advanced technology, Japan has no navigable rivers to allow supply lines to be maintained with troops inland (Pineau, p. 96). Japan was also far more united in the face of foreign intervention than many other countries. America may have been able to defeat the Japanese in an all-out war, however as Headrick points out, it is unlikely such actions would have been approved unless such a conflict was economically viable (Headrick, p. 11). It is highly unlikely, given the lack of tradable goods possessed by Japan and the limited size of a potential market that such a war would be seen as cost-effective; Perry's orders were explicit in their insistence of peaceful path to trade and coaling depots.

The reason that the Japanese acquiesced to American demands was quite simple and has not been proposed by any other source, to the knowledge of this author. Perry’s steamers, particularly the Mississippi, were able to do what no other ship before could have done; they could enter the Bay of Edo and bring her terrible Paxihan guns within range of the bakufu's capital. While Japan could be united in the face of an alien invasion, the bakufu's rule was beginning at this time to become deeply unpopular among the samurai class. Trouble was

brewing, and boiled over once the treaties with foreign powers were signed, especially among the lower unemployed samurai. The idea of the Emperor being restored to sovereignty over the nation had been suggested, and the bakufu needed to show they still had the right and ability to rule the country. Perry had shown the military government very clearly that he, if rejected, could burn the locus of their power to the ground. Perry’s mission, and other European victories discussed herein, was facilitated in large part by the steamship. While other factors most certainly contributed to the success of colonial wars of the 19th century, it is unlikely these missions could have succeeded without the vessels developed from Newcomen's original invention. For those whom gravitate to a technological superiority emphasis when studying colonialism, the steamship is an innovation which merits closer attention.

That the invention of the steamship was important to naval history and colonial warfare has been touched upon by other authors. However, no study currently available goes into any great depth as to how exactly steamships facilitated European victories in colonial conflicts. The omission may be due to many causes, but perhaps simply that it is generally accepted that this piece of technology was important. The extent to which it was invaluable in colonizing Asia is simply the next step in these studies. Whether through forcing kingdoms to treat was numerically inferior forces, facilitating better communication and supply lines, or reducing the cost of conflict to economic feasibility, the conflicts listed herein could not have ended in European victory without the steamship. While other technological and political factors were also necessary for these same victories is not in contention. Rather, the steamship’s place as an indispensable factor in the dizzying expansion of colonial holdings in the 19th century will be the focus of this work. Faced with a wide range of technological innovations present in the 19th century, it is a natural to avoid putting emphasis on one advancement and crediting it with too

much. Yet, at the very least, Burma, China, and Japan could not have come under such

overwhelming foreign influence without the steamship. We must acknowledge this fact if we

expect to come to a deeper understanding of how exactly this expansion occurred; that

understanding being invaluable for making sense of how the current socio-political state of the world came to be.

CHAPTER 2 THE BURMA WARS: MARCH 1824-FEB. 1826 & APRIL 1852-DEC. 1852

The First and Second Anglo-Burmese wars present an abject lesson in how acute a difference

the presence of steamship technology played in 19th century imperial wars. While other factors

such as better planning and more clearly defined objectives would make the second of these two

conflicts far less costly both in terms of money and men the introduction of a large number of

steamers was a critical advantage. They allowed British forces to capture vital points far more quickly, move supplies more efficiently, evacuate those men who could not be treated in the field, and most importantly allow operations along the Irrawaddy River and its tributaries even outside of the illness-inducing monsoon season.

The First Anglo-Burmese War arose out of considerable border friction. Until the late 18th century, the state of Arakan had acted as a buffer between the expansionist Burmese Empire and the equally voracious British. However, Arakan fell to the Burmese in 1784, and bring their borders into contact very near the city of Chittagong in the Bengal region (Cady, p. 68). At first, the East India Company, facing war with the Marthas and lack of attention from the home government due to Napoleon's actions in Europe, attempted to cooperate with the Burmese state

(Trager, p. 27). Likewise, the court at Ava was more concerned with conflicts with the kingdom of Siam in the south (Cady, p. 69). Trouble frequently occurred due to the thousands of

Arakanese refugees then living in Chittagong, but initially promises by the British to repress banditry from the area kept relations friendly. Yet, as the number of refugees rose during the

1790's, frictions would rise as banditry turned to rebellions staged from Chittagong (Cady, p. 70)

The court at Ava demanded that these refugees, for the crime of staging rebellions from Bengal, 12

should be turned over to them for prosecution. Initially agreeing to do so, the British became

reluctant to extradite after some of the refugees were starved to death in Ava (Moon, p. 443). The

border, and importantly the rebels in Burma, became a constant source of friction between Ava

and Calcutta. However, through diplomacy and the death of rebel leader Nga Than De in 1803,

tensions were kept below the boiling point (Cady, p. 70).

In 1811, however, the son of Nga Than De, Chan Byan, led a rebel army to reclaim Arakan and petitioned the British for suzerainty over the area; his recruitment bolstered by the 40,000 people fleeing conscription by Ava (Myint-U, p. 18). The Burmese court assumed that the

British were involved, and the crisis continued until 1815 when Chan Byan died. However, the

British refusal to turn over those rebels in Chittagong and Chan's petition for suzerainty would guarantee Burmese suspicion and ire (Cady, p. 72). The next king of Burma, Bagyidaw,

continued conquering along the border, annexing the states of Assam and Manipur while

menacing British guaranteed Chahar in 1824. A large Burmese army presence, following on

years of expansionist activities brought matters near the breaking point (Cady, p. 72).

Other fears added to tensions between the two states. Even Napoleon's defeat and exile to St.

Helena did not end the competing force of French imperialism in Asia. As France increased its influence in east Indochina, the East India Company began to fear an alliance between Ava and

Paris would allow the French to use Burmese ports as staging areas for assaults on British India; a worry carried over from the 18th century (Trager, pp. 19; 22). Additionally, the Irrawaddy presented a possible route for trade into China, and a hostile court in Ava would prevent the

British from using this route; this would become more and more vital as ports in mainland China were opened to all Western countries as the century wore on (Aung, p. 224). Yet, the Directors of the East Indian Company were hesitant to engage in war; previous conflicts had drained

Company coffers to dangerously low levels (Woodman, p. 68). Additionally, the teak imported

from Burma was too risky to lose, it being essential material for shipwrights in India (Trager, p.

22).

The small island of Shahpuri in the River Naaf, the border between the two states, presented the cassus belli for Britain. Both Calcutta and Ava claimed it, and it was garrisoned at the time by Indian sepoys. Burma attacked and drove the sepoys out. The island traded hands a number of times, partially due to the fact no garrison of any size was viable there due to the unhealthy environment (Moon, p. 434). When two British naval officers were kidnapped and imprisoned while trying to survey the British-Burmese border, Governor General Amherst declared war on

March 5th, 1824 (Hernon, p. 25).

In terms of a land invasion, Britain was at a considerable disadvantage. The border region between India and Burma was an area of mountainous jungle with no fit roads for the conveying

of artillery; a key part of British warfare. The English would suffer more than enough losses due

to disease in this war, and the idea of marching across this territory into Burma was out of the

question, especially once the monsoon has started. Instead, Assam and Arakan were to be taken

to act as a buffer between Burma and Chittagong (Bruce, p. 39). However, the attacks on Assam

gained Britain little and Maha Bandula, Burma's greatest general, was successful in smashing

British forces in the north. In early May he was victorious over the garrison between Arakan and

Chittagong and gained a clear field into Bengal. In fact, Chittagong could very well have been taken, if the general had pressed on. He could not know, however, that is was but lightly held

(Bruce, pp. 41- 45).

Bandula would be forced to abandon his invasion of Chittagong as British forces sailed through the Bay of Bengal to Rangoon, taking the city in early May just as the monsoon began

(Bruce, p. 46). The government in Calcutta would release 11,000 men and a large flotilla of ships

for an assault on Burma via the Irrawaddy River, on the mouth of which sits Rangoon (Cady, p.

72). The flotilla, led by the HMS Liffey and commanded by General Sir Archibald Campbell, was almost immediately fired upon once they had anchored off the city (Bruce, p. 33). A few broadsides from the British ships silenced the shore batteries and two brigades of soldiers landed, raising the Union Jack over Rangoon a scant twenty minutes later; the first battle of the war had not occasioned a single British casualty (Bruce, p. 34) However, instead of finding a populace that would at least sell them supplies, the British force found a deserted city. The lack of supplies in Rangoon was critical, as the trip from India had drained British stores of beef and fresh water.

(Bruce, pp. 32; 34-35). "Deserted, as we found ourselves, by the people of the country, from whom alone we could expect supplies - unprovided with the means of moving either by land or water, and the rainy monsoon just setting in - no prospect remained to us but that of a long residence in the miserable and dirty hovels of Rangoon, trusting to the transports for provisions, with such partial supplies as our foraging parties might procure...by distant and fatiguing marches into the interior of the country." wrote Major Snodgrass, military secretary to General

Campbell, summing up the difficult position the British garrison found itself in (Bruce, p. 35).

The situation was not helped when, that evening, troops found a cellar of brandy and became so intoxicated they burned down a considerable portion of the city and along with it potential housing for the rainy season (Hernon, p. 27)

The season benefited the ships at least, with only one exception being sail vessels (Bruce, p.

28). The monsoon winds provided propulsion up the river towards the capital. As the monsoon was inundating the area with rain, the rivers were also flowing far deeper, allowing for the deeper draft vessels to pass, the expectation being that Ava could be reached in four to six weeks

(Moon, p. 436). Indeed, without the river any conquest of Burma was nigh impossible. British command had, from the beginning, believed that any victory would have to come via maritime actions (Woodman, p. 63) No roads capable of moving a large, European style force existed, and so a flotilla accompanying troops marching on the riverside was necessary. However, as

Campbell explored further up from Rangoon, usually sending out scout boats, it became apparent the number of stockades the Burmese had constructed along the river. To send the flotilla upriver would expose them to a great deal of fire both from the stockades and Burmese vessels

(Bruce, p. 49). Therefore, Campbell proceeded with men along the riverbank, attacking stockades in coordination with the navy. The tactic was highly successful; the casualties on the

British side were usually quite light whereas hundreds of Burmese were often killed by the end of such encounters (Bruce, p. 50).

However, this plan, while the only viable option at the time, had two major drawbacks. The first was the narrow time limit for the war. After the monsoons ended around September, the ships would have far less propulsion and would be facing a constantly dropping water level on the rivers. By late fall, the ships would either be slowed, run aground, or have to fall back to

Rangoon, essentially cutting all supply and troop lines.

Secondly, the monsoon season was an incredibly difficult time for soldiers and sailors to move or even garrison. Illness, especially cholera, killed far more troops than Burmese weapons. While provisions were made that allowed soldiers to shed the most onerous parts of their uniforms, the intense work of hauling artillery without pack animals probably did little to help the troop's immune systems; coupled with thready supply lines and marches through the jungle made for a large number of troops being incapacitated (Bruce, p. 53; 61) At some points, only 36% of the garrison at Rangoon would be in fighting condition due to illness (Cady, p. 72). Those marching

through the jungle, with incredible heat and humidity fared even worse. By June, General

Campbell began to fear that he would soon not be able to field an effective force; too many men

were being lost to disease and no fresh supplies were coming in to help improve the health of the

men. The Larne as well was, by July, no longer an effective ship; disease was waylaying the navy as well (Bruce, p. 66). An ensign of the force would write; "To be on the doctors list was almost certain death. The wounded men too, died in an unusual proportion, a mere scratch, from the aforesaid case, often ending in mortification and death. The total want moreover of fish, fresh meat, milk, bread or vegetables rendered the dieting of the sick a most difficult task. Funerals were now of daily occurrence; in our own regiment three, four, five, sometimes six men were carried out at a time. On one occasion I remember ten men of the regiment being buried in one day..." (Bruce, p. 65).

However, despite the illness, Campbell continued his advance upriver, depending more and more upon the naval forces (Bruce, p. 67-68). Victories continued for the British, and eventually

the entire Burmese coast was occupied. However, Godwin's numbers were dwindling and by

October only 1,300 British troops were fit for service beyond Rangoon (Bruce, p. 76). As the

British Adjunct-General had predicted before the war, all the army found in Burma was "jungle,

pestilence, and famine." (Woodman, p. 62).

The general Bandula, forced to break off his invasion of Bengal due to British forces being

present in Burma, turned his back on India and marched back to Ava to receive new orders.

Starting out in August, during the worst of the rains, he marched his men across some of the

worst terrain in the country back to Ava to receive new orders; a feat one author has compared to

Hannibal's crossing of the Alps (Hernon, p. 31). Upon his return, he was ordered by King

Bagyidaw to lead a 60,000-man host to march in relief of Rangoon (Myint-U, p. 19). The British,

ill-supplied and wracked by illness could muster about 4,000 were now facing over seven times

their number. On December 1st, at the fort at Kemmendine outside Rangoon, Bandula appeared

with his army (Bruce, p, 80). Yet, the repeated large-scale attacks against the fort and the city

itself was consistently beaten back. There are two major reasons why the British were able to

repel Bandula's army. First, it is estimated only about half of his army had muskets, and these

were an older 18th century variety that would have been far less reliable compared to the modern

British muskets (Aung, p. 213). Secondly, Bandula decided to fight in a way that favored the

British; he attacked head on attempting to storm the city after digging a series of trenches.

Woodman suggests that such tactics arose from a desire to capture or kill as many British

soldiers as possible, rather than depending on the far better tactic of guerrilla warfare. By sticking to such tactics, Bandula could have simply held the British off until disease thinned their ranks to the point of retreat (Woodman, p. 73). In the face of exploding shells they advanced, only to find an entrenched foe that could fire almost twice as fast as them and charged the

Burmese lines with bayonets as they reloaded. Only 7,000 of Bandula's army was able to retreat

to Danubyu at the head of the delta (Aung, p. 213).

Two failed British attempts to send reinforcements overland to Rangoon were abandoned

when the territory through Cachar and Arakan could not be penetrated (Moon, p. 437). The

upside to the Arakan expedition, though it also occasioned an act of rebellion by sepoys, was that

the province was officially taken from the Burmese (Moon, pp. 438-439)

After the Rangoon army was resupplied from Calcutta in early 1825, General Campbell

proceeded north along the Irrawaddy, accompanied by the naval vessels providing artillery

support and acting as supply ships (Moon, p. 44). The attack at Donabyu situated at the head of

the Irrawaddy river delta, though it would cost the British "severe casualties", ended as an

important victory for the British; Bandula was struck by a shell and instantly killed. The

Burmese garrison immediately withdrew after losing their commander (Moon, p. 440). It turns out that Bandula, dishonored by his defeat at Rangoon, refused to take shelter from the British bombardment saying, "If I die the enemy will attribute victory to that. They cannot say our soldiers were not brave." (Bruce, p. 107). Refusing even to eschew his gilded umbrella, he was a clear target for gunners (Myint-U, p. 29).

It was to be the turning point of the war. Burmese troops were fatally demoralized and the war party had lost its greatest advocate; the King's brother, Prince Tharrawaddy, abandoned Prome and returned to the capital to "implore [his brother] to make peace as the only means of saving the remains of the empire." (Moon, p. 440). After taking the next city of Prome along the

Irrawaddy, the British garrisoned through another monsoon season. After an unsuccessful counterattack, in which yet another Burmese general was killed, the Burmese sued for peace but rejected initial British terms (Woodman, p. 79). It was only after the British advanced to

Yandabo fifty miles from the capital that the court acquiesced to their terms, harsh as they were

(Aung, p. 214).

The treaty was, in any consideration, incredibly punitive. First, Ava would cede Arakan,

Tenasserim, and Assam; thus losing not only the status of possessing conquered territories but also their valuable income. They would recognize Manipur, Cachar, and Jainta as British territory. An indemnity of one million pounds sterling would be paid in four installments. The first had to be paid immediately, the second within a hundred days, and the balance within two years. Until the second installment was paid the British would not leave Burmese territory. A

British resident had to be accepted at Ava and one sent in return to Calcutta. Finally, Ava was forced to sign a commercial treaty with the East India Company (Aung, p. 214). The terms were

not only humiliating, but hamstrung the court financially. Aside from the astronomical

indemnity, one author noting it would have been "a colossal sum" even for a European nation at

the time, the Burmese had just lost two of their three maritime provinces (Aung, p. 214). This

would be the beginning of the end of the Ava government. The rest of its existence would be

spend fighting various rebellions and bandits that had lost faith in the government and resented

its harsh rule, aside from two more conflicts with the British.

However, the East India Company was not terribly happy with the outcome of the war either

(Moon, p. 441). The war had been terribly protracted, lasting from 1824 to 1826. It had cost, from initial estimates, upwards of fifteen million pounds, though Marquis Dalhousie would declare later that this was highly inflated and the war had cost only four million (Baird, p. 213).

Even at this rather more conservative number however, the indemnity did not begin to cover the cost of the war, and yet Calcutta could not ask more without occasioning outright refusal from

Ava or the complete collapse of the dynasty; Bagyidaw had great difficulty coming up with the first payment alone (Bruce, p. 124). Only able to come up with 50,000 pounds, the queen was forced to make up the remaining 200,000 from "her own resources" (Bruce, p. 126).

15,000 men had also been lost, mostly to disease; an ignominious victory indeed (Hernon, p.

43). At Rangoon, of the 3,265 men killed, only 150 of those died in action; the rest were victims of disease and mortification of their wounds (Woodman, p. 80).

Yet, the two provinces they gained from Burma, though not rich, would provide much benefit for the Honorable Company as bases for the next war some thirty years later (Lee, p. 423). The trade agreement would, if not giving the rice and silver Calcutta had hoped for, provide a profitable trade in teak (Bruce, p. 129). Also, by taking two of the three maritime provinces, the

Company had taken away that many possibilities for Ava to host French ships; one of the

original causes for Calcutta's concern (Cady, p. 79).

However, what if Ava had refused the terms set out at Yandabo? Perhaps the British could have marched the remaining fifty miles to Ava, but what then? They would have been far from supplies and reinforcements. The battle would have been bitter, especially given that they would have probably not been able to drag any artillery with them; one author suggests that such pieces could only be drug a few hundred yards per hour by the men (Bruce, p. 62). With soldiers dropping like flies from disease, any attack would have been far bloodier than any previous one.

Likewise, having the flotilla sail up was out of the question. In the second war Marquis

Dalhousie, then the Governor General would note that only a couple of his steamers would have been able to make the trip during the dry season (Baird, p. 231). It is doubtful that any vessel in the first war, perhaps excepting the Diana, could have made it to Ava, especially in the dry winter season with water levels so low and lacking monsoon winds.

If the British managed to take Ava, it is no guarantee that the war would have ended. It is

possible, as Dalhousie would fear later on, that the court would simply pick up and carry

resistance on from the north part of the country (Baird, p. 217). The veracity of this claim is

questionable, given that much of the king's power came from his physical occupation of the

throne and to lose that would have probably occasioned a coup or revolt (Cady, pp. 4; 7).

Assuming that the court fell or was defeated, then the problem would have become the

annexation of Burma. The cost of garrisoning, supplying, and pacifying the entire country would

have been ruinous, especially after spending fifteen million pounds till the end of the war

discounting the financial cost of the assault on Ava. Dalhousie, in the second war, would suggest

only taking Pegu for this exact reason; if Britain ever wanted the rest of the country nothing

would stop them from taking "a second bite of the cherry" (Lee, p. 442). Better to take Burma piecemeal, and only when it made financial sense to do so.

The interwar period saw little improvement in relations. The Burmese court convinced themselves that their "clemency and generosity" had led to the end of the war (Trager, p. 36).

The next king, Tharrawady, after renouncing the Treaty of Yandabo marched 15,000 men to

Rangoon in what some see as an attempt to intimidate Britain into returning Tenasserim while they were distracted with the First Afghan War. The bluff was called however and nothing came of it; Tenasserim remained in British hands. (Trager, p. 37). His failure to return the territory to

Burma, and his favorite queen participating in a plot on his life have been suggested as possible causes for his slide into insanity. His son, Pagan Min, would act as a regent and then succeeded him in 1846 (Aung, pp. 224-225). He would be on the throne when the Second Anglo-Burmese

War broke out half a decade later.

The occasion given for war in 1851 has caused some skepticism to Dalhousie's claims that territory was the last thing Britain wanted (Aung, p. 227). The court at Ava had eventually allowed a British resident in the capital in 1830, but never sent one to Calcutta as it was merely a dependency of England and in the end ran the British resident out of the country through refusing to deal with him (Aung, p. 222). However, repayment of the indemnity did go forward, if slowly, but that can be put down to the ruinous amount required. Trade was expanded, but British captains began to complain of maltreatment at the hands of Burmese officials. Burma would claim that these captains were flouting just regulations, while the British put it down to vile abuse (Aung, p. 225). Eventually, the imprisonment and fining of two captains caused Dalhousie, then Governor General, to send Commodore Lambert with three steam frigates to demand around a thousand pounds in recompense (Cady, pp. 86-87).

Lambert would, from the first, take a very belligerent attitude (Bruce, pp. 132-133). This stance seems quite odd, given the commodore's record in Sumatra; he had refused there to believe merchants claims of abuse without sufficient proof and "refused to establish trade by force." (Pollak, p. 69) The theories for his change in policy are varied, but the assertion that

Dalhousie sent him to start a war seems to be, in light of the marquis' private correspondence, rather unlikely. Rather Pollak's assertion that, under time constraints due to orders sending him to the Persian Gulf and advised by the staunchly anti-Burmese Captain Latter and Missionary

Kincaid, the commodore had his reality colored and his patience shortened seems to make the most sense. Lambert was under pressure to conclude the Burmese business quickly, or be stuck through the monsoon season in India. If forced to wait through the monsoon season, the year- long delay in responding to orders to sail to the Persian Gulf would reflect poorly on the commodore (Pollak, p. 70). Likewise his advisors all had a personal interest in making sure

Lambert did not take the side of the Burmese government. Latter was later accused of purposeful mistranslation and illicit activities in Burma; his "mysterious murder" removing the need for further investigation. Kincaid held a grudge over the Burmese governor’s restrictions for the distribution of religious tracts, and the motivation of merchants to manipulate Burma into greater

Company control is obvious (Pollak, p. 71).

Disliking the way in which his representatives were received by the first governor, wearing his shabbiest clothes and smoking a cheroot, Lambert demanded that he be replaced even though such action was only to be taken if the governor had been unwilling to negotiate

(Moon, p. 630). This was agreed to by the court, and a new governor was dispatched. However, the officials Lambert sent to meet the governor refused to dismount before entering the governor’s compound; a show of courtesy even Burmese princes were expect to do perform.

Additionally, it was claimed that some of the party had arrived intoxicated. An insult given, the

governor refused to meet the officials, citing their shockingly rude behavior aside from the fact

Lambert's underlings were far too junior for a governor to deal with (Aung, p. 226). Lambert

claimed insult to the British flag, seized the king's barge in the Irrawaddy River, and destroy the

Burmese gun emplacements when they fired upon his vessels (Bruce, p. 138). The commodore

ordered a blockade of "the rivers of Rangoon, Bassein, and the Salween above Maulmin." (Lee,

p. 418) The marquis, rather than provoking war, simply acceded to the necessity of it once

Lambert had acted under ill council and outside his orders (Pollack, p. 82). While Dalhousie

would personally assign all blame to Lambert, he was unwilling to criticize a military man and

publicly call the navy's honor into question (Woodman, pp. 135; 145).

From there, the situation deteriorated rapidly. Dalhousie demanded from the Burmese an apology from the king's ministers, and indemnity of 100,000 pounds, to treat the British

Representative with respect in Rangoon, and that Rangoon and Martaban be ceded until the indemnity was paid (Bruce, p. 139). Since it was unlikely that the king would accede to such harsh terms and that war would most likely follow, Dalhousie assigned General Godwin, a veteran of the First Anglo-Burmese War, to command. Dispatched with 6,000 men plus several additional steamers, Godwin was ordered to seize Rangoon. Logistics were far better this time around, aside from food and medical supplies, timber was sent with the flotilla for the construction of barracks at Rangoon (Moon, p. 631).

The British opened their invasion with rapid attacks in April 1852 against three major port cities, Rangoon, Martaban, and Bassessin. The delta basin was in British hands before the monsoons began, as planned (Bruce, p. 140). Moreover, unlike 1824, British troops found that locals returned far sooner after their conquest of areas and were more disposed to trade with

them for supplies (Lee, p. 430). Also, the naval forces, in shallow drafting steamers, did not need to proceed quite as cautiously; the steamers were able to proceed to Bassein without having to slow to take soundings of the river (Baird, p. 205). In June, a flotilla steamed up and took Pegu, but it would be abandoned during a Burmese counter attack. After the monsoon, it was retaken

(Bruce, p. 145). All of these actions speak of a highly coordinated plan of attack, and a notion of lessons learned from the first war. Godwin would express his worry over illness to Dalhousie before the war, and efforts were made to see the men more properly supplied, and proper barracks erected in garrison towns like Rangoon and Prome, which would be taken after the monsoons ended (Lee, p. 422). With Prome taken on October 9th and Pegu on November 22nd, all major objectives for the war had been met within seven months (Cady, p. 88). After the commander in chief of Burmese forces surrendered at Pegu there was little enough fight left in

Ava (Moon, p. 633) On December 20th, the Marquis Dalhousie declared Pegu the third province of British Burma (Cady, p. 88).

While the British press demanded that the war be taken to Ava, Dalhousie had his doubts about such an attack. He estimated that, due to the Irrawaddy falling to under fifteen feet, only eleven of his vessels could move men and stores, limiting the British to a force of 1,200 men per trip from Rangoon (Lee, p. 441). However, it must be noted that Dalhousie's military advisers did not agree; they stated that thirteen steamers could be floated (Baird, p. 221). While this was better than the case in 1826, it seemed to Dalhousie to be totally unnecessary, and horrendously expensive. No roads existed between Prome and Ava, and traversing through swamps and jungles without pack animals and through a devastated countryside that could not be foraged from would cost an incredible amount of money and lives (Lee, p. 441). As the British did not want to annex the entire country quite yet, it was totally unnecessary, taking Ava being

compared to "an armful of worthless rind" (Lee, p. 441). The marquis also did not want to advance a foot beyond what would be taken as recompense for war costs, as any "retreat" could have been interpreted by the Burmese as a victory (Moon, p. 632). Yet, in preparation for the possibility of an assault on Ava becoming necessary, three hundred transport elephants were assembled to carry supplies and artillery to Prome through Arakan in January, beginning to arrive in March (Bruce, p. 148). General Godwin was originally of the opinion that once these reinforcements and supplies had arrived, a march on the capital was the best strategy. However, as Dalhousie pointed out to both his commander in chief and London, the cost of such a march would be horrendous, leaving the river meant all supplies had to be carried in light of the scorched earth policy of the Burmese army, communication with Rangoon would be difficult, and if Ava was taken the troops would have to billet there for the 1853 rainy season without the comforts given to them in Rangoon and Prome (Lee, p. 434). London and Godwin both agreed with Dalhousie's plan and 2,500 men were brought up to reinforce Prome (Lee, p. 435).

The point was rendered moot when the King, Pagan Min, was deposed in favor of his anti-war brother Mindon. While Mindon would not sign any treaty ceding territory to the British, it was essentially agreed that no further hostile actions would be taken and Pegu was declared, by

Dalhousie, to be a British province (Bruce, p. 148). This seizing of territory, without treaty has been described as "naked imperialism" and yet Dalhousie argued that treaties are rarely worth the paper they are written on if one party feels especially injured (Moon, p. 632). He would sign off with a warning to the court at Ava that should there be any more hostilities, "it must of necessity lead to the total subversion of the Burman state and to the ruin and exile of the king and his race." (Aung, p. 229). British forces, before hostilities ended, progressed some fifty miles farther

north to Myede to ensure an increased supply of teak; the village would now serve as the border

point between British and Ava controlled Burma (Cady, p. 89).

The war cost a fraction of the first, only one million pounds (Bruce, p. 148). Considering that the fertile region of Pegu was gained for such a small cost, the Company looked upon this war with far more approval than the first. Possessing an income of 250,000 to 300,000 pounds per year, Pegu would pay for itself in less than half a decade (Baird, pp. 217-218). It cannot be

disputed that Dalhousie gleaned a large amount of information from the failing of the first war,

but perhaps his most important lesson was that of ships. In 1823, steamships like the Diana were

incredibly new to Asia. In fact that vessel was the first steamer to be used by armed forces in

combat (Hernon, p. 26). However, by 1852, the steamer was far more widespread, and presented

Dalhousie with an easy solution to many of his problems. The marquis himself wrote in his

personal correspondence about the excitement he felt at this new technology, and the importance

he placed upon it (Baird, p. 223).

While the timing of insults demanded that the war begin in April, the speed and reliability of

steamships allowed for the coordination of attacks on the three major port areas of Burma. The

attacks could be completed before the monsoons started, a feat that would probably have been

impossible if under the power of the sail; the round trip between Calcutta and Rangoon took on

average fourth months in 1824 (Lee, p. 423). The time between Calcutta and Rangoon had been

cut considerably and allowed Dalhousie to strike before the torrential rains began, though better

planning most definitely played a part. Afterward, steamers could be used to reliably bring

supplies to the troops, including the all-important wood to build barracks. Without the necessity

of supplying crews for a two month one way trip, more cargo space on steamers could be set

aside. Three hundred elephants had set out from Arakan to Prome in order to move artillery for

an attack on Ava, but did not reach British troops until the conflict was over. In terms of

supplies, such a long process would have been impractical; only steamers could be depended on

for supplying troops in Burma. Better food and quarters saw disease rates among the men fall to around 10% (Baird, p.214). In some places it would dip below the normal peacetime rates in

India (Lee, p. 424).

While sail ships would have been forced by necessity of wind and water depth to conduct the war during monsoon season, Godwin was free to allow his men to pass the unhealthy season in comfort. There was no need to conduct the war during inhospitable weather and with a steadier stream of supplies coming in via steamer the troop's health was much improved. When the rains had passed the steamers could move on their own power and would not run into trouble with water depth until very later into the year. Indeed, when Dalhousie complained that only 1,200 men could make the assault on Ava via river in December, he meant at that time. Had the British waited for the water levels to rise again in the early monsoon season, far more men could have made it for the assault. Godwin had assumed that he could march during the cooler winter months to Ava from Prome, but Dalhousie dismissed this as unnecessary. Ava wasn’t really needed, and even if it had to be assaulted due to orders from London, it was better to wait until spring and simply sail there (Moon, p. 632). The worry was occupying Ava during the rainy season might lead to illness on the scale of Rangoon thirty years previously, perhaps because materials needed for barracks were not available and resistance was sure to be fiercer around the capital.

The idea of staying near the Irrawaddy was proven, time and again, to be for the best. When

Godwin was tasked with clearing out the area around Prome of the remaining resisting forces, he did not meet with easy success in the jungle, which favored the Burmese fighters. In thick jungle,

the percussion cap muskets of the British would have been less useful; most times it would have come down to bayonets versus spears or, even worse, the crude but effective rockets the

Burmese rigged in trees to fire down on passing British troops (Hernon, p. 27). The river was the preferred area of the British to fight, and they wisely stayed by it. The introduction of steamers vacated the seasonal requirements of the war, and allowed the British to stay far healthier both in terms of allowing movement outside the monsoon and guaranteeing better supplies. Accessibility because of shallower draft was not the only reason for better supply lines; the trip between

Calcutta and Rangoon had been shortened by the introduction of steamers. While the bases gained in the last war would have helped to provide supplies, a line to Calcutta was desirable both in terms of supply and communication. Likewise, injured troops could be more reliably sent back down river; sail ships going back down the Irrawaddy would have been faced with sailing into the wind, stalling progress (Lee, p. 424). Removing ill troops most likely helped stem the tide of communicable disease.

The end of Burmese independence came in 1885.While the details of this conflict fall somewhat out of the scope of this discussion, it is important to note that the victories won with the help of the steamers in the Second Anglo-Burmese war helped to weaken Ava enough to allow the British to take the rest of Burmese territory at their whim. When, over a dispute involving the fining of the Bombay-Burma trading company and a proposed Burmese-French treaty, the British proceeded once again up the Irrawaddy in steamships, little resistance was given (Bruce, pp. 152; 156-158). Once again, the presence of steamships would allow the British to move upriver outside of the monsoon season, the war on this occasion starting on November

11th, 1885. Quickly defeating the remaining Burmese forces, they would seize the capital along with the Queen and King on 28th November 1885. Drained from two earlier wars and almost a

century of internal strife, the kingdom fell in just over two weeks. Burma was formally annexed on January 1st, 1886 (Bruce, p. 159). The second bite of the cherry was taken, and Burma would remain part of Britain until after the Second World War, shrugging off its colonial masters as so many other nations did at the same point.

Without the power of steamships, a British victory in the Second Anglo-Burmese War may have been possible. It is more a question if the East India Company had been willing or even able to pay for it. Dalhousie constantly worried that some action of his would lead to recall, especially if he seemed to be expanding the war beyond the cost/benefit ratio (Baird, p. 215).

The marquis often expressed exasperation with Godwin, not because he failed to win battles, but because he would often wait until the situation was tactically sound and did not win any truly

"glorious" victories (Baird, pp. 227; 233; 236). Dalhousie needed to convince the Company that this war would be worth it to them, or at least hold off his critics until victory was won (Lee, p.

440). Steamships allowed the entire Burmese coast to be taken quickly, and a string of victories to be won up until Prome. Dalhousie himself seems to have understood the value to steamers, stating in a private letter that regarding the initial attack on Pegu, "They have had a little humbugging expedition to Pegu, which they had much better have let alone, since they did no real good, and broke the back of a second out of the very few river steamers I have, and on which so much depends in the future." (Baird, p. 207).

Even with Godwin's retreat, all objectives for the war had been taken by December, just seven months into the war. Had the forces been at the mercy of sail, the monsoons may have beaten them to the war, and progress up the Irrawaddy could have been halted due to illness or lack of supplies. Thanks to the steamships made available to the expedition supply lines, troop movements, and health were all vastly improved in the Second Anglo-Burmese War, buying

enough time to convince the Company to invest in the war and setting up a final annexation of

Burma thirty years later.

CHAPTER 3 THE FIRST ANGLO-SINO WAR: NOV. 1839 -AUG.1842 Few conflicts have been as studied or debated as the First Anglo-Sino War, also known as the First Opium War. Though opium is often given as the main cause for the conflict, it was in fact far more complicated. A variety of cultural, social, and economic issues led to this conflict, which was not so easy a victory for British forces as has sometimes been suggested. Both belligerents had good reason to come to blows, and both possessed strengths and weaknesses which made the conflict's resolution far from certain. In the end, a brand new piece of technology, whose deployment the Qing court could not have foreseen, would clinch victory for the British. The Chinese prosecution of the war had, until that point, been as competent as was possible under difficult circumstances. The introduction of that new technology, the shallow- draft steamer, would prove to be the coup de grace, and would precipitate a series of events that shaped China as we know her today.

Opium, a depressant drug that has been cultivated since the time of the ancient Egyptians, was introduced to China in the 7th century by Arab traders via the Silk Road (Gelber, “Opium” p. 34). The drug was used largely for medicinal purposes and only imported in small amounts until the 17th century, when it would become widely abused, largely because of the new fashion of smoking it (Gelber, “Opium” p.34).

Opium, however, was only a part of the war; a small (albeit key) cog in the greater machinery of conflict. There were great societal changes occurring, especially in Europe, which caused Eastern and Western philosophies of state and politics to come into conflict. A primary

change was that of free trade. Since the first contact with China, Europe had held a largely 32

mercantile view. Business was business, and should be left to businessmen, who would in turn

share the profits with their home states. This view meshed well with Chinese perception of trade being a low class activity, not suited for the higher castes. The first Europeans to come to China in search of trade were the Portuguese, and in 1557 were awarded the right to trade at Macao for the service of helping the Chinese suppress piracy in the area (Holt p. 28). Other powers would follow, including Britain and, after the Revolutionary War, her former colony of America (Holt p. 30). These first traders were allowed several ports, but eventually were required to trade at

Canton for a fixed period of time every year, reside in Macao in the off season, and trade only through the Cohong, a special group of Chinese merchants who were the only people licensed to trade with the foreigners (Gray p. 24). The strict and occasionally humiliating restrictions placed upon the traders by the Canton system were accepted, if only for the sake of profit. (Graham, p.

Mercantilism vs. Free Trade

However, the philosophy of trade was changing in Europe. Adam Smith, writing his

classic The Wealth of Nations in 1776, began popularizing the idea of trade carrying more than

simply goods across the word, a theme other authors would pick up with zeal (Gelber, “Opium p.

27). Trade, being free, could benefit all parties through the spread of ideas and greater social

justice. Quoting Lord Palmerston, who acted as Foreign Secretary before and during the war, "I

may say without any vain glorious [sic] boast...that we stand at the head of a moral, social, and

political civilization. Our task is to lead the way and direct the march of others

nations..."(Gelber, “Opium” p. 28). A major shift had occurred from business being for the

businessmen, to business being a tool of nations to promote their idea of civilization and peace.

Europeans, now seeing it as not only their right, but also their duty to crack open reluctant 33

nations and spread trade and their version of civilization, set their sights on China. "[Palmerston]

certainly did not accept the right of any backward country to exclude English influence."

(Gelber, “Opium” p. 22). The East India Company's monopoly in China was fully rescinded by

Act of Parliament on August 28th, 1833, and trade was opened to all (Holt p. 44). This

fundamental shift in how trade was viewed by the West, and the Chinese continuing to view

trade as they had for so long, would be a great part of why conflict erupted.

A Question of Status

Much and more has been written of the embassies of Lord Macartney and Lord Amherst

to Peking. These missions, meeting with various degrees of failure, underline another important

cultural incompatibility that would push all parties towards conflict. China had, for so long,

viewed itself as the center of the world. All other nations were simply tributary states, and other

rulers were in their position only by the benevolence of the Son of Heaven (Gelber, “Dragon” p.

160). To what extent the Qing court believed this to be literally true is debatable, but their

attitude in dealing with foreigners was not. Macartney, coming first, was received warmly

enough in 1792, but his requests to establish normal relations were rebuffed by the court, stating in a letter to King George III, "Our dynasties’ majestic virtue has penetrated into every country under Heaven, and Kings of all nations have offered their costly tribute by land and sea...I set no value on objects strange or ingenious, and have no use for your country's manufactures...It behooves you, O King, to respect my sentiments and to display even greater devotion and loyalty in the future...” (Gelber, “Dragon” p. 164). The mission was ordered to leave and in the words of

Macartney's valet, "we entered Peking like paupers, we remained in it like prisoners and we

quitted it like vagrants." (Gelber, “Dragon” p. 164).

The message, for all the politeness it had been wrapped in, was clear. Englishmen may

trade, but under Chinese rules. China has no need of any relationship with England beyond one

of tributary and suzerain. England will suffer if they disobey. The Chinese did not see the British

as even needing official residence, because as tributaries they were only allowed to offer tribute and to trade; “Moreover, the distance to Macao, the place where trade is conducted, and the capital is nearly ten thousand li (5370km-6450km), and if he [the proposed consul] were to remain at the capital how could he look after it?” (Gregory p. 64). There was either no understanding or no acknowledgement of the idea of states interacting as equals. Tragically for all those who would suffer from the opium trade, during Lord Macartney’s embassy to Emperor

Qianlong, he had been instructed by London to offer the opium trade up as a sacrifice for better trade concessions, should the topic have come up. The opium trade question was evidently never broached (Gregory p. 60).

Lord Amherst was dismissed more brusquely, called to the Emperor in the middle of the night, without any time to rest from his journey or even change clothes. His refusal to immediately attend the Emperor saw him dismissed, unable to meet with the Son of Heaven

(Napier pp. 80-81). Had either embassy deigned to kowtow, it is unlikely they would have gained anything. The message was clear; China did not consider England, her King, or any foreigner for that matter, her equal. Other embassies had kowtowed, why should Britain be considered special? (Gregory p. 68). The kowtow was counterproductive to what the British wanted, equal status, an idea that was as foreign to the Chinese as it was dangerous. This was not a situation an empire on which the sun literally never set would endure for long once it became directly involved, and not merely through its agents in the form of the East India Company.

The coming of Lord Napier, as a replacement for the Select Committee of the East India

Company, was another unmitigated disaster. While the Chinese had indeed suggested this

replacement, they had been imagining a taipan, a headman of trade (Holt p. 44). What the British sent was a Scottish laird, a member of the House of Lords, a Navy captain who had served under

Nelson at the Battle of Trafalgar, and a close, personal friend and former shipmate of King

William IV (Napier pp.3, 5, 7, 8). This friendship and his extensive titles may have been why he was chosen, for he had no qualifications as a diplomat (Napier p. 11). It was King William himself who endorsed Napier when he applied to Earl Gray, the Prime Minister, for the appointment as Superintendent of Trade at Canton in 1833 (Napier p. 9). The appointment was ratified and William John Napier departed Plymouth aboard the Andromache, arriving in Macao in July 1834 (Napier p. 12; Holt p. 44).

The trouble began almost immediately. Napier saw no reason to dally and immediately set off to Canton. He landed and began to demand that his letter be delivered to the Viceroy, Lu, at once. (Holt p. 52). Such an action was hugely insulting. Napier had come to China without any prior introduction. He had received no official ambassadorial status, and his title was, after all,

Superintendent of Trade. Lu refused to receive any letter not submitted through the Hong and properly titled a "petition". Furthermore, as Napier had come to Canton without a passport, he was to retire immediately to Macao and apply for the necessary permits properly. (Holt p. 53).

Lu wrote to Napier, stating; "Even England has its laws; how much more the Celestial Empire!"

(Holt p. 53). Napier refused, and Lu had the factory at Canton surrounded by troops. A great degree of back and forth carried on for a time, during which Napier contracted a "malarial fever and began to suffer incredibly " (Holt p. 55). Eventually, a settlement was reached, and Napier agreed to withdraw to Macao. However, on the way there, boat traffic held up his ship. At all

hours a huge amount of noise was made, and Napier could not rest. It was the opinion of many

that this trying time taxed his health beyond all repair, and the blame for his later death at Macao

could be placed squarely on the shoulders of the Viceroy in Canton who was suspected of

ordering the disturbance. (Napier, pp. 193-194). From the beginning Viceroy Lu had refused to

treat with Napier as an equal, seeing him as a "barbarian eye", a taipan, and in no way a government official from a nation that had equal status to the Celestial Empire. Such a thing was simply inconceivable. However, the British most definitely did not see things this way, and were determined to bring the Chinese into the modern world, whether they liked it or not. Insults, such as translating Napier's name as "hard laboring vile beast" did not help matters whatsoever either

(Napier, p.126).

Threats to the Mandate of Heaven

The Emperor of China had been seen since the Zhou dynasty as ruling with the mandate

of Heaven. From time to time, a dynasty would lose the mandate, and it would become

acceptable in Chinese society for the old regime to be overthrown and replaced with the new Son

of Heaven (Gelber, “Dragon” pp. 12-13; 16-17). While natural disasters were seen as a classic

sign of the loss of the mandate, weakness before a foreign threat had previously proved the

downfall of a dynasty. Even the great Tang had been fatally weakened by barbarians, specifically

An Lushan (Gelber, “Dragon p. 53”). Therefore, the Qing Emperors, whose own rule was

tenuous as they themselves were foreigners, were right to fear what these new barbarians might

bring to China's shores. Additionally, half of the land of China at the time was populated by

peoples other than the Han (Gelber, “Opium” p. 31). The ethnic Han also caused problems when

settling into new areas, as it created friction with other ethnic groups. They also had not been

absorbed well into Manchu culture; they still had their own culture and a lingering resentment 37

over the fall of the Ming (Ellemen p. 7). China was not a united nation; it was a fractured group of peoples who did not always live in peace.

Opium was one cause of concern, but the ideas of greater personal liberty, representative government, and the reintroduction of Christianity were every bit as threatening, if not more so.

Emperor Qianlong would in fact write to King George III in response to Macartney’s mission that, “…Emperors and wise rulers have bestowed on China a moral system…there has been no hankering after heterodox doctrines…your Ambassador’s request that barbarians should be given full liberty to disseminate their religion is utterly unreasonable.” (Napier p. 74). To the Chinese throne, Christianity was heterodox and dangerous to the Confucian social order. Christ could not replace the Son of Heaven as the Supreme Ruler, or how could the Qing assert they had the

Mandate? “Why try to change the existing order of things to humor an importunate, distant kingdom? That might only upset the current harmonious balance between Heaven and Earth, and perhaps precipitate a transfer of the mandate.” (Gregory p. 66). Opium may destroy a man's body and rob him of his mind, but the plague of ideas threating to spill into China could cause far more damage, and did, in the end.

By the time of the Opium War, the new Emperor Daoguang was “earnest, dutiful, well- meaning but not very effective in trying to reform a corrupt court and government and to deal with signs of dynastic decline such as growing corruption and peasant unrest.” (Gelber, “Opium” p. 29). Threats were growing to the mandate, and the humiliation of recognizing a far distant barbarian king as the Son of Heaven's equal was a far greater threat to stability than the possibility of the British attacking a few southern towns. Their numbers were never enough to truly threaten Peking, and if they attacked the Han population, what of it? At worst, the Manchus were rid of a few more peasants who might rally against them, and at best the barbarians would 38

stoke anger against themselves, and drive the Han populace into the arms of the Manchu rulers.

The devil you know, indeed.

The Opium Problem

Opium, as stated before, had entered the Chinese empire in the 7th century via Arab traders. It had been used medicinally since then in China and the rest of the world. The drug was a definite necessity, as it was, "the only effective painkiller before the invention of modern synthetics.”

(Gelber, “Opium” pp. 34-35). In London it was freely available, usually used as laudanum, and was even an ingredient in children's cough medicine. One of the most used drugs in modern medicine, morphine, derives from opium (Gelber, “Opium” p. 88). The British themselves imported 196,200 lbs. of opium from Bengal in 1840 (Gelber, “Opium” p. 88).

However, the problem was that, from the 1700's on, the drug was largely smoked in

China. (Gelber, “Opium” p. 34). Medically speaking, when a drug is taken orally, it will have to be absorbed through the taker's gastro-intestinal tract. This, along with the filtering effect of the kidneys and liver, will greatly reduce the amount of the drug reaching the brain, and hence give a lesser effect. Smoking, however, enters the blood stream much more quickly, and in much larger doses via the lungs. A larger dose will lead to a greater dependency, faster (Gregory, p. 79). By

1839, 1% of the population of China, 4 million people, were consumers, most of them in the coastal provinces (Gregory p. 79). It was estimated that, around 1900, there were around 13.5-14 million opium addicts in China. (Gelber, “Dragon” p. 224). At the height of the trade, some

80,000 chests of opium, or some 12,000,000 lbs. would be imported with 12-40 million addicts by the 1930’s, about 10% of the population of China (Gregory p. 85). The drug, needing an increasingly large dose to produce the same effects, was incredibly insidious.

The addicts were not only peasants either. Officials and soldiers were also among those

who were addicted. Memorials to the Emperor pointed out one campaign in 1832 where the army

had been so stoned on opium, they had been unable to put down a Yao aboriginal uprising (Gray

p. 39). The mandarinte was also noticed to have been affected (Gelber, “Opium” p. 35). Clearly opium was not only rotting the roots of Chinese society, but also working its way up the trunk.

Opium could very well render the entire empire helpless.

Then there was the question of trade deficits. Emperor Qianlong had said, in his letter sent to King George III that “I set no value on objects strange or ingenious, and have no use for your country's manufactures...” (Gelber, “Dragon” p. 164). At first, foreign traders coming to

China were forced to pay for almost all items purchased with silver. By 1817, £150,000,000 had been paid to China and imports of tea to England amounted to 12,000,000 lbs. (Holt pp. 36-37).

The drink had exploded in popularity after Parliament had passed the Commutation Act in 1784 that slashed duties on tea from 110 percent to 10 percent. (Gray p. 25). So valuable, and crucial, was tea that an Act of Parliament was passed, requiring the East India Company to keep a year’s supply in stock at all times. Tea earned a huge amount for England in duties, earning about 1/10th of revenue (Holt p 37). Yet the trade deficit began to cause major financial problems, and a substitute was sought. Opium, grown in Bengal under the monopoly of the East India Company provided an excellent solution. Though illegal in China since the 18th century, and fully prohibited in 1800, the drug was a huge money earner for the country traders operating outside the East India Company (Morse p. 176). There are accounts of ships making roughly $100,000 per shipload of opium. (Morse p. 181). Opium importation was constantly on the rise, increasing from 4,494 chests imported from 1821-1828 to a staggering 30,000 chests in 1835-1839 (Morse

180-182). Each chest contained something like 130-160 lbs. of opium (Gelber, “Opium” p. 34).

That would work out to, at a minimum, 584,220 lbs. in 1821 to 3,900,000 lbs. by 1839. By 1833,

China had a trade deficit of between £1,500,000 and £2,000,000, payable in silver. (Holt 64-65).

Silver prices were also increasing due to rising scarcity of the metal (Ellemen p. 15). Silver was

desperately needed by the government at the time to deal with rebellions, including Muslim

revolts in Xinjiang (Ellemen p. 15). It would be galling to lose so much hard currency to a drug,

but even more so when your war effort was also being negatively affected by it.

By 1832, opium was earning British India 1/18th of its total revenues, to rise to 1/7th in later years (Holt 64). Clearly, a huge amount of opium was being pumped into China and was costing the Imperial Government an unacceptable loss of hard currency. However, only about

25% of the silver paid out in China actually left the country. Some of the remainder was used to buy the tea and silks that had started the problem (Gray p. 28). The payout of silver that did go abroad, illegal payoffs to officials by traders, and speculative hoarding, led to "powerful deflationary effects, and since imperial taxes had to be paid in silver, meant effective tax rises for ordinary Chinese" (Gelber, “Dragon” p. 186). As copper cash was the everyday currency in

China, it was the rising imbalance between the value of copper and silver that would cause those effective tax hikes, a dangerous situation when civil order is already tenuous. The copper currency was further deflated by over minting and reducing the weight of the new coins,

severely deflating their value (Gray p. 28)

Whatever the true cause, the situation was untenable both socially and financially, and

many Chinese advisors placed blame solely on opium (Gray p. 28). Britain, however, gained too

much of her revenue both at home and in her costly colony of India to want to give up the trade,

unless acceptable alternatives could be found. The repeated refusal of the Chinese to treat with

the foreigners and open up additional ports made opium the only product the British had that the 41

Chinese wanted. Moreover, the British government never saw stopping the trade as their job.

They could not very well patrol the whole of China’s coasts, enforcing Chinese rules on other

nations. Even if they did, opium would simply flow in from other nation's traders and sources

outside India. (Gelber, “Opium” pp. 81, 89). It was neither financially possible, physically

possible, nor even necessary in the British mind to end the opium trade; "But so long as willing

sellers could find willing purchases they could see no conceivable reason why they should stop

supplying the drug..." (Holt, p. 62).

Lin's Blunders

Lin Tse-hsu, ethnically Han, was born in 1785 and passed the Jinshi level degree in

Peking in 1811, placing seventh. (Waley, p. 12). He held several high posts, including the governorship of Hupeh and Hunan where he was successful at suppressing opium use. (Holt, p.

77). Taken with this, and his memorials to the throne on the opium question being, “the fullest and most painstaking”, it comes as no great surprise that Emperor Daoguang would appoint him

the High Commissioner at Canton on December 31st, 1838 to “"investigate port affairs”, which

in practice meant to discover a method for suppressing the opium trade." (Waley, pp. 12; 13).

Lin was, from the first, feared and respected by the Chinese at Canton. Viceroy Teng, himself heavily involved in the opium trade, swooned for an hour when he heard Lin was coming (Holt,. p. 78). While most likely not the literal truth, corrupt officials on the take had cause for concern. Indeed, there was a great amount of graft going on at the time. The foreign traders were more than happy to pay the "squeeze", and had even set up a fund to secure future payoffs, amounting to some $40 per chest of opium, or roughly $100,000 a year. (Gelber,

“Opium” p 35). The patrol fleet in charge of stopping opium smuggling, led by Admiral Han,

took a monthly bribe of 36,000 taels of silver or about £500,000 in modern terms. (Gelber,

“Opium” p. 45). Clearly, Lin was coming into a situation that would have considerable

opposition to his mandate.

He wasted no time engaging the new Superintendent of Trade, Captain Charles Elliot.

Lin demanded the surrender of all opium the traders had, and the signing of a bond that traders would not, on pain of death, engage in opium smuggling again. He eventually had the factories surrounded with soldiers. (Waley, 35-40). Elliot agreed to surrender the opium, but with one provision. All 20,000 chests of opium were turned over, but only after control of the opium had been given to Elliot by the traders. Thus, as Elliot was an official of the British government, Lin was seizing British, not private, property. Elliot wrote, "[he] held himself strictly responsible, faith fully, and with all possible dispatch, to deliver up 20,283 chests of British-owned opium."

[emphasis added] (Morse, p. 225). Afterwards, the siege lifted, Elliot and the British contingent retired to Hong Kong and stopped their trade (Morse, p. 229).

It should be noted that Lin's actions did virtually nothing. True, after the destruction the price of a chest of opium spiked at $3,000 up from its normal $500, but soon dropped back to

$700. (Gelber, “Opium” p. 72). All Lin had managed to do was put even more money in the pockets of traders.

When a villager, Lin Weihi, was killed in a brawl with British sailors, Lin demanded the culprits be turned over. After a trial aboard a ship, Elliot refused stating that it was impossible to identify the killer among the six sailors involved, and he would not give up a sacrifice, though he did pay a $2,000 dollar indemnity to Lin Weihi’s family (Graham, p.95). The British and other foreigners had, on occasion, turned over sailors to Chinese justice to gruesome results. Law in

China was, "designed to preserve the social order and the imperial system. There was no notion

of a "higher" law, stemming from divine will or from universal" human rights”…. [or] “due

process”.” Foreign sailors had also been put to death, occasionally for accidents that had been

beyond their control. (Gelber, “Dragon” pp. 182-184). The British would most certainly not hand

over someone when they believed he would receive, by their standards, an unfair trial and almost

certain death.

This, along with the refusal to sign the bond by Elliot and many traders, caused Lin to order the British, including women and children, to leave Macao and board British ships.

(Gelber, “Opium” pp.74- 75). On November 3rd, 1839 when a British ship, Royal Saxon,

attempted to sign the bond and slip past Elliot, they were fired upon by other British ships.

Chinese junks moved to protect the Royal Saxon, and the first shots of the Opium War were fired. (Gelber, “Opium” pp. 75-76). Lin demanded the end of the opium trade and the signing of the bond, but for the English, the threat to British civilians, especially women, pushed the issue to a point at which trade could be risked, at least temporarily, to answer an insult to the nation's honor. (Gelber, “Opium” p. 79). The treatment of the top British official, Elliot, and traders as hostages in the factories for six weeks, followed by an expulsion of women and children from

Macao with supplies denied to them, and menaces by Chinese junks towards them stressed

British forbearance to the breaking point (Gregory p. 83). With the shots fired in defense of the

Royal Saxon, the Chinese, as much of a moral high ground they held in demanding the opium trade be stopped, had provided the spark that would ignite British anger in Canton and in

London. While not yet in possession of technology that allowed the British to take the fight to

Peking, punishment could be inflicted, and better trading conditions demanded.

Lin has also been criticized for his misleading and occasionally totally fictitious reports to Peking. However, almost every official and solider, in the hopes of gaining a reward or avoiding imperial wrath, added to the embroidery of the “myth of victory” (Ellemen, p. 18)

While Lin had less reason to believe the lies told to him as he was close at hand, there seems to be a systematic failure on the part of all to accurately describe engagements. However, to what extent the court was really fooled by all this in unclear. In fact, when presented with a letter from

Lord Palmerston declaring the grievances that had led to conflict and a summary of action up to that point blaming Lin for almost all of it, the Emperor wrote to Lin, “You are just making excuses with empty words. Nothing has been accomplished but many troubles have been created.

Thinking of these things, I cannot contain my rage. What do you have to say now?” (Ellemen, p.

21) Lin was shortly thereafter put on trial for incompetence, but it is interesting to note that the

Emperor does not accuse Lin of lying to him, only that he had handled things very badly.

It may have been more that defeatist talk, even in correspondence, was unpopular even if it was accurate. “The Six Smashing Blows”, or three engagements the Chinese actually lost which were doubled to six and reported as victories, was a fiction that may have been indulged in by the group, for the sake of preserving precious unity (Ellemen, p. 15). Appearing strong, even with knowledge of one’s weakness, would be very important to those concerned with appearing to keep the mandate, which at this time was quickly slipping out of the Qing’s hands (Ellemen, p.

28). The White Lotus Rebellion, the assassination plot of Lin Qing, Muslim unrest, the anti-

Manchu Heaven and Earth Society, and the growing quasi-Christian Taiping movement led by

Hong Xiuquan were all among the domestic threats the Qing had to deal either shortly before or concurrently with the First Opium War (Spence, pp. 167-171; 187). Admitting any defeat before foreign enemies when beset by domestic opponents would have been potentially destabilizing.

Chinese Military Decay

After the Napoleonic Wars, Britain was almost indisputably the world’s greatest power.

In retrospect, the 1800’s have been called “the British century” and the “Pax Britannica." This was in large part due to her immense naval strength, but also because of her soldiers, who had conquered from India to Afghanistan, Waterloo to Egypt. Part of the pride the American nation feels in its story of independence was that they took on the world’s greatest military power and came through victorious. Leaving aside the problems with this, Britain was definitely not a power to be trifled with. Even more so when one considers that the Chinese had begun to fall dangerously behind in technology after partially sealing their country during the Ming Dynasty and allowing her great fleet to rot. (Gelber, “Dragon” p. 89) However, China, perhaps more than any country on Earth, understood the dangers neighbors can pose. The Xianbei, the Mongols, and the Russians had all troubled her northern borders, but she had come through time and again

(Gelber, “Opium” p. 31). Though her military had fallen behind greatly, the more dangerous aspect was that a major lack of military leadership and discipline had set in. A proper army, when well commanded, can overcome incredible odds. However, without a proper head and soldiers who know their business, no armament in the world can save one from defeat. The Qing court was very aware of their military disadvantages, however. They simply saw the military as another cliff upon which the foreigner tide would crash and spend its strength; another force like malaria, angry peasants, or hunger that would help them win.

The knowledge that they had fallen behind was quite apparent even from the first Anglo-

Sino interaction. When Captain John Weddel was not allowed to trade in 1637, he forced past the

Bogue forts, firing on and defeating them before going on to commit acts of piracy. He was eventually brought to heel, but only after he had stepped off his powerful ship. (Holt, p. 29). 46

From the beginning, China knew she could not keep a determined foreigner out, though once he was there, matters could change.

Secondly, the embassy of Lord Macartney had involved a thinly veiled threat in this same vein. Among the presents brought by the British representative were pieces of modern artillery and a model of a new ship of the line, along with the information that it carried 110 guns, twice as many as Anson’s ship, which towed the Manila Galleon into Macao some years before. “Were the British sending a message about possible things to come, and was the old emperor, who would not live to see those things but had been on the throne when Anson had come to Canton, receiving it?” (Gregory, p. 59). It is impossible to say for sure, but such a heavy-handed reference was not likely to have been lost on the Emperor and all the scholars assembled there.

In the run up to the Opium War itself, there was an incident that shows the reigning

Emperor, Daogaung, was made aware of Western military power. When the British delegation headed by Napier was besieged in the factory at Canton in 1834, the British frigates Imogene and

Andromache forced their way past the Bogue forts in order to provide some relief to Napier. The ships had to pass several forts, which were armed with something around a hundred guns.

Moreover, these were sailing ships, at the mercy of the wind and forced to tack to make forward progress, leaving them incredibly vulnerable to attack by the forts. After an hour and countless shots fired, the immovable guns and inexperienced Chinese gunners had failed to inflict anything more than cosmetic damage (Napier, 172-174). When informed by Viceroy Lu of this, the

Emperor wrote, in vermillion ink, that, “It seems that all the forts are erected in vain; they cannot beat back two barbarian ships; it is ridiculous, detestable.” (Holt, p. 56). The Emperor was clearly aware of the failure of his armies.

Moreover, the Chinese were fully aware of the British takeover of India, and neighboring states such as Burma (Gelber, “Opium” p.32). While they would not have considered these states their equal, it would have been disquieting to have neighbors viewed as one’s “children” taken down with apparent ease.

But what specific problems plagued the Qing’s military, and why did the Qing not try to correct them if they had been aware since at least the early 18th century of their own military weakness?

First and foremost was a devastating lack of command ability in the Qing armies. These men were not military-minded; they were in fact mandarins who earned their place through the exam system (Ellemen, p. 5). They were simply not capable of the task. The exam system itself had become rigid and unimaginative, a tool to check prior indoctrination rather than the ability to come up with novel solutions to national problems. (Holt, p. 23). This would be bad enough in a magistrate, but for an army officer, inability to react to emerging and evolving situations would have been deadly.

The men also posed a problem. While Manchu Banners gave stiff resistance, occasionally threatening to overwhelm the British in various battles, the Han Chinese were “far less willing to fight on behalf of the Manchus [at Zhenjiang]. Perhaps they saw the foreign invasion as one

“barbarian” fighting another.” (Ellemen, p. 30). This Green Standard Army was actually only a gendarmerie (Holt, p. 20). They were meant to keep the peace, and did not get much respect from the people. Add to this the fact the Green Banners had failed in putting down rebellions due to problems with opium addiction, a matter clearly stated to the court in memorials on the opium problem, and the court could not be said to have had absolute confidence in their men (Gray, p.

39). Why should any Chinese man have wished to become a solider? There was little enough

money in it, let alone glory or respect. As “one does not take good iron to make a nail, or an

honest man to make a solider” was a popular saying in the day, the military could be said to be in

poor shape in regards to leadership, character, public opinion, and espirte de corps (Holt 20).

Though the Green Banners had some 660,000 men after the White Lotus rebellion, they had a lack of military zeal, poor equipment, and a defensive view of warfare that did not mesh well with the situation at hand (Ellemen, pp. 6-7) The court was aware of this and relied upon the distance between China and Britain, an angry populace, disease, hunger, and cost to end the war for them. As Viceroy Lin put it, “What expense did not ruin, disease would destroy.” (Graham p.

189).

While the Green Banners were either unwilling or unable to put up stiff resistance, the

Manchu banner men were quite another story. They had during the later course of the war held off, for a time, an equally sized British force (Elleman, p.29). The battles against the Manchus could also be quite costly for the British; on one occasion, just 2,000 Manchu troops had squared off against 5,000 British and killed 1,500 of the invading enemy before succumbing (Elleman, p.

30) However, perhaps because of a false sense of security based on the “myth of victory”, or a lack of desire to fight a more offensive war based on traditional teachings, the Manchu banners were never massed against the British threat. (Elleman, pp. 32-33) This lack of aggression, and an assumption that Pottinger would be like Elliot, a man who they could delay while building up their forces during ceasefires, were more to blame for their military defeat than any technological difference (Graham, p. 135) However, it must be remembered that until very late in the war,

Peking was under no real threat from the foreign forces; they were simply too far inland to be a

realistic target (Graham, p. 116).

Perhaps they thought they need not lift a finger. Peking was impenetrable, and the

foreigners could not cause too much trouble. A deal, even while the Qing military was in a pitiful

state and could do little to check the barbarian horde directly, would have hurt their claim to the

Mandate far more. Besides, as Ellemen states, giving the Green Banners new weapons could

easily have seen those armaments turned on the Emperor himself (Ellemen, p.33). Let the British

devils kill the Green Banners; those were simply future rebels who were no good for anything

anyway. Better they be cannon fodder now than burning down Peking in a year.

British Military Weaknesses

While the British were technologically superior in matters of warfare, victory for England

was hardly assured for several reasons. Supply issues, troop numbers, illness, and lukewarm

political support from London, to name a few.

In 1840, forces to the tune of 4,000 troops, 20 war vessels, and 28 troop ships were

dispatched to help Superintendent Elliot, a naval captain, to deal with the problem of Chinese

aggression over the opium trade (Gelber, “Opium” p. 102). Elliot was an intelligent man who

understood the situation of the Chinese government all too well, and would spend a great deal of

time talking rather than fighting, even coming to an agreement that would be sadly rejected by

London and almost cost his Chinese counterpart, Ch’i-san, his head. (Waley p. 143) But why

would Elliot, if he possessed a technological advantage, seek to treat so early; why give “ill-

timed mercies” as one American missionary put it (Gelber, “Opium” p 119)?

First of all, a good deal of those troops under his command were Indian sepoys who,

while cheaper to outfit, were less reliable and showed growing resentment at being shipped around the world by the British. Also, the Hindu sepoys were very vulnerable to sickness; about

1/3rd would fall ill and be unable to fight (Graham, pp. 208, 228). Strangely, as Graham points out, the Muslim sepoys were almost unscathed by sickness (Graham, p. 228). Napier himself, when advocating a military solution before his death, had advised against the use of sepoys as well (Graham, p. 54). The Indian troops did not carry much confidence with the British government.

Also, as they took towns, the new possessions had to be occupied to secure supply lines, such as they were. But with only 4,000 men even on paper, every town reduced his firepower that much more. (Gelber, “Opium” p. 110) The firepower mentioned was largely in the form of flintlocks for the sepoys, which had the decided disadvantage of being rendered useless in the rain; a major problem when one is fighting in Asia. (Gelber, “Opium” p. 110). Finally, Elliot had been given 4,000 men, but only 1/3rd or as few as 1/4th were ever fighting fit. The rest were sick with various diseases like malaria and dysentery, or disappearing as angry locals kidnaped and murdered troops in the night. Attrition made this already stretched force dangerously close to the breaking point (Gelber, “Opium” p. 110).

Additionally, there were problems with local knowledge. The best information the British forces had on the countryside surrounding Peking was based on old Jesuit information (Graham p. 201). Elliot’s attempts to conduct an acceptable peace, which included the seceding of Hong

Kong, gained him intense censure at home and a rough dismissal. Queen Victoria would write of

Elliot, "... [He] completely disobeyed his instructions and tried to get the lowest terms he could."

(Gelber, “Opium” p. 116-117). More military minded men were dispatched with reinforcements, led by Sir Henry Pottinger, and the expedition continued. (Gelber, “Opium” p. 125). Now the army was around 9,000 men and far more percussion muskets were issued, valuable for being much more rugged and firing under inclement conditions (Elleman, p. 26). However, the basic 51

problem remained. They had 9,000 troops, nowhere near enough to occupy enough land to force

the Chinese to terms. As Graham states, “As with the Napoleonic legions who marched on

Moscow, the Empire of China might well have become their burial ground.” (Graham, p. 189).

They faced similar conditions; spread out, without proper supply trains, unable to forage, a lack

of food brought with them (it had rotted on the passage from India), and attrition (though in this

case from disease rather than cold). In fact, the British were losing more soldiers to "booby-traps and murder than they had in battle" (Graham p. 179; Gelber, “Opium” p. 137).

The new commanders were more aggressive, but how to break the Dragon Throne's will?

From the Qing's point of view, time, disease, and angry locals would do their work for them. The foreign devils could not strike far enough inland to hurt internal trade, of which Nanking was the lynchpin, and any concession would have hurt their claim to the Mandate far more than the loss of a few, unimportant port towns. The barbarians were cutting off their own nose to spite their face, to use a Western turn of phrase. External, costal trade was far more important to the British;

their blockade of Canton not only would cost them friends among the other foreigners, but would

hurt the British Empire significantly. The tea must flow.

To force any real capitulation, the British had to hurt the Qing’s mandate more than any

deal ever could, and a few coastal areas could not do that. They had to take Peking (Graham p.

190). But how to do so? The city was too far inland, and the British commanders rightly did not

want to separate their troops from the support of the fleet, “[it is impossible] that an army can be

landed with a view to an operation upon the city of Peking itself, unless in daily communication

with, and supported by the fleet.” (Graham, p. 196). Landing marines under artillery fire to take

the city was impossible. 9,000 foot soldiers, against the increasingly stiff resistance from

Manchu Banners, and against large walled cities could not have carried the day without artillery 52

cover. "[the approach via river to] Beijing was still full of sandbanks, making it an uncommonly

difficult area for ships, and worse for an opposed landing." (Gelber, “Opium” p 127). Of course,

they would have had less than that 9,000 due to illness and occupying some other towns. They

would suffer horrendous casualties while landing from archers at the least, and then be on a

killing ground with no way to carry the walls

The Nemesis

So how did the British carry the day and threaten Nanking and Peking? The H.M.S.

Nemesis and other subsequent shallow-draft steamers provided the answer. A new technology,

these steamers sat far shallower in the water, and had some new armaments including rockets

and shell guns that would prove devastating to the Chinese junks and hastily prepared

fortifications (Graham, pp. 146-147). Previously, the Peiho river mouth had been too sandy and

narrow for all but the shallowest draft to cross; an older model steamer in the squadron, the

Madagascar, drafted eleven feet and could barely make it into the river (Graham, pp. 130, 133).

The inner harbor of Canton was equally shallow, only allowing ships drawing five feet or less to

pass (Graham, p. 120). The Nemesis and her sister ships only needed five to six feet to float, and

sometimes as little as 4 ½ (Ellemen, 25-26). Suddenly, the Pearl River Delta, the Peiho, the

Yangzi, and the Grand Canal were accessible. The Yangzi was eventually settled upon as it

allowed troops and the supporting fleet to be closer than if they went up the Peiho to Tientsin

(Graham, pp. 203; 207). The going was tough, as the Yangzi is not an easily navigable

waterway; "Admiral Parker now had a fleet of 11 men-of-war, including the Cornwallis (Elliot's flagship) herself, 10 steamers, some troopships and 48 transports... [they were towed up] almost

300 miles of the uncharted Yangzi with its heavy currents, rapids, and sharp bends...It had to be a highly disciplined operation" (Gelber, “Opium” p.142). The rivers and canals of China had 53

become navigable, giving unprecedented access to foreign nations and distinct military advantage to naval powers.

Although the river was largely uncharted, these new ships were able to chart new routes; the Nemesis “practically slithered along the muddy river bed.” (Graham, p. 155). It was rather slow going, and occasionally led to great difficulty; a steamer managed to find its way into a rice paddy and was stuck with no way to get back out (Graham, p. 153). All in all though, these ships suddenly opened up China in a way undreamed of before. Captain Elliot would later bemoan not having the Nemesis and ships like her, “I should feel we were strong indeed…’ if the Nemesis had been with the squadron at the mouth of the Peiho, he concluded, it was ‘highly probable we should have concluded our Treaty at Tientsin” (Graham, p. 153). He was right, as it has been estimated any ship drafting under 12 feet could have made it into the Peiho, towing others to threaten Tientsin on the outskirts of Peking (Graham, p. 134).

Previously, Elliot’s flagship had to anchor so far from Peking that land could not even been seen from the top of the mainmast (Gelber, “Opium” p. 111). Not until the new flat bottomed steamers, which could not only paddle up these shallow rivers but could also tow larger frigates up with them, were the walls of large cities assailable. The expedition set its sights on Nanking, a prudent choice for its importance along the Grand Canal as a hub for internal trade; Nanking, previously protected like Peking by its distance from the sea and walls, went from a fortress to a tomb. Without those ships' guns, Nanking was safe, but now they were in very real danger. Peking would have been more so. The loss of Nanking would have meant losing control of internal trade and thus the entire south of the country (Ellemen, p. 28). It also would have probably meant a Han uprising, cut off as they were from their Manchu overlords.

And if the barbarians could assault and take Nanking, Peking would be next. If these English 54

devils took the Forbidden City, and even worse captured the Emperor, "it would inevitably be the

end of the dynasty." (Gelber, “Opium” p. 143).

It was this sudden danger to previously unassailable cities that precipitated the end of the

war. Pragmatic to the last, the Qing agreed to make a deal, and signed the Treaty of Nanking on

August 29th, 1842. The consequences of this would eventually lead to the last emperor, Pu Yi, being forced to abdicate in 1912 by the constitutionalists, but it was either a stay of execution or an immediate trip to the gallows for the dynasty (Gray, p. 144). What else to do but endure the humiliation and attempt to build up militarily? This was never a true surrender. After all, in the

Chinese view at the time, an agreement was always renegotiable, and one signed under duress was no agreement at all (Gelber, “Opium” pp. 162-163). This was a play for time, one that would not work, but which made sense at the time.

The Qing were not ignorant of their military disadvantages, nor did they dismiss the abilities of their foes. They were definitely proud and did not openly acknowledge their weaknesses, but it was in the name of preserving a tenuous grip on the country they had taken by

force 200 years previously. They, ironically, were also foreign to China. Cooked barbarians as

they had been when they took over, they were still foreigners, and always had to be conscious

they ruled only tenuously, especially at the time. Militarily weak as the court was, they had read

and reacted to the situation quite well indeed. It was a matter of weighing lesser evils, which the

dynasty did rather admirably.

The dynasty well understood its own weakness and vulnerabilities, as well as their

strengths. Until the introduction of the Nemesis, they had been acting in a perfectly correct

manner, militarily speaking. It was far better to starve the barbarians out, to bleed them white

slowly and make it simply too expensive to continue an aggressive course, all while building up new fortifications during ceasefires. Had the British understood the position of the Son of

Heaven slightly better, maybe they would have been more willing to play along, as the EIC or

Capt. Elliot had been. But then London was far away, had many other concerns and Lin after all had failed to understand the British mindset as well. The Chinese position, demanding foreigners obey their rules and not introduce poisonous substances into their kingdom is today a very reasonable and normal mandate. However, at the time, the British position also had its credits. It was not their job to deal with customs in China; that was the Chinese government’s job. As

Palmerston wrote,“[we cannot stop] for the purpose of preserving the morals of the Chinese people, who were disposed to buy what other people were disposed to sell them.” (Gregory p.

84).

Had the Chinese allowed the devolvement of trade a little more, perhaps other goods could have supplanted opium, which was a position the English had desired from the beginning.

Insults to British citizens and officials, to English pride, would harden public opinion against the

Qing, one officer stating at the end of the war, “The English will henceforth be respected in

China as elsewhere, and they will never again deem it necessary to admit to degradation or ill treatment to obtain the highest commercial advantages.” (Graham, p. 213). On the other hand, opening up the country more could have led to further instability of the dynasty. Truly, things had come to such an impasse that conflict became inevitable, partly through both sides failure to understand the other, but also from the unforgiving laws of economics. Countries today still struggle with trade imbalance, and still worry these problems may lead to conflict. One may observe the United States has such an imbalance with China that we are becoming more and

more influenced by what that government wishes. The tables have truly turned. As Napoleon once warned, “Let it sleep, for when the dragon wakes the world will tremble.” (Gregory, p. 61)

CHAPTER 4 THE PERRY EXPEDITION: JULY 1853 - APRIL 1854 The Perry Expedition, undertaken by Presidential order in 1852, was spurred, as can be seen most clearly in the letters of Aaron Palmer to Congress, by the desire to open commercial interaction with Japan, disregarding that nation’s desires (Palmer, p. 6). The supposed maltreatment of sailors would give an acceptable reason to approach Japan, and was used as the thin edge of the wedge to open trade negotiations (Feifer, pp. 73-74).

One may ask why trade was desired with Japan at all. The closed nation produced little that was of interest to American consumers. Tea and silk could be more easily obtained from

China, especially after the recent Opium War. Japan was two hundred and fifty years behind in technology, and could produce little that the West could not. Yet, there was one thing that

America and other Western nations were jealous of Japan in; her position in the Pacific. The

China trade was becoming fantastically profitable, aided by the treaties signed after the Opium

War, and America's recent expansion into Oregon and California meant the time taken to sail to

Asia was cut dramatically (Feifer, pp. 182-183). Along with the new invention of steamships, one that was adopted in no small part due to the urging of a younger Matthew Perry, the trip to

Asia was measured in days, not months (Morison, p. 127).

However, as with almost every new technology, it created just as many problems as it solved. Steamships would require an enormous amount of coal, burning through about a ton per hour. In order to make room for cargo, coal carried aboard had to be kept to as much of a minimum as possible. This meant that coaling stations needed to be secured in as many ports as could be convinced or coerced to supply fuel (Feifer, p. 189). The United States expansion on 58

Hawaii and other Pacific islands was largely inspired by this need, and in fact Perry would force

open the Ryukyu kingdom for the exact same reason after his first visit to Japan. He would gain,

among other concessions, a promised supply of six hundred tons of coal in Naha (Pineau, p.

108).

Japan, however, was not one of these small island kingdoms that could be easily cowed

with a few hundred soldiers. While the samurai had become, in many cases, more than a little

soft in the ensuing peace after Sekigahara, there were estimated to be some 500,000 samurai who

could be mobilized to defend the Land of the Gods (Feifer, p. 195). This does not include the

commoners, whom the bakufu would consider arming after Perry's arrival; all four classes of

both genders were considered worthy for combat under this plan (Feifer, p. 229). Unless a nation

wished to commit a horrendous amount of time, money, and lives, the Japanese could not be

conquered; even then it is unlikely the Japanese would have submitted meekly to foreign

occupation.

The bakufu had shown themselves hostile to foreign interaction since the expulsion of the

Portuguese in 1639 (McOmie, p. 3). They had not warmed to Westerners at all in the intervening

period, confining the small Dutch contingent to the miniscule island of Dejima, and Christianity

remained illegal for any Japanese subject to practice (McOmie, p. 15). Perry was assigned,

through peaceful means unless first attacked, to somehow convince the Japanese to at least

promise better treatment of shipwrecked sailors and to supply ships with fuel, food, wood, and

water (Williams, pp. 1-2). The more he could get, the better in the minds of Washington politicians, but Perry was to gain much more than many expected. Although consistently

reminded by his superiors in Washington to use only peaceful means, the Commodore would put

forward a hand in friendship while making very sure the Japanese could not miss the other he 59

had raised to strike should they rebuff him. This was overstepping his mandate, but would show

to be brutally effective. Whether or not the Tokugawa bakufu believed that Perry would actually

attack if not given what he wanted, the danger of American aggression was too real to gamble

with. What made his threats so plausible was that same piece of technology that made Perry’s

efforts necessary in the first place; the steamship.

Steaming in aboard the Susquehanna and Mississippi, the sail sloops Plymouth and

Saratoga in tow, Perry's squadron caused an immediate stir among the people. "The price of rice

soared and no fresh fish was delivered to the markets, presumably because the fisherman didn’t

dare launch their boats, and the daimyo...were warned, "to stand in readiness to meet an

emergency." It was as if all Edo "was to be burnt to ashes this very moment."" (Feifer, p. 30)

Fishing junks made all speed away from the American vessels, and the news of their arrival

caused a widespread panic in Edo; fires would be observed that night by the Americans, perhaps

caused by the panic (Feifer, p. 31).

Ignoring a proclamation written in French, telling the Americans not to anchor at their

own peril, the Commodore gave orders that none but high officials, and then only three at a time,

would be received upon the flagship. No other ships could be boarded, and he himself would

only meet with a high official of the Empire (Pineau, pp. 90-91). The first Japanese aboard,

Nakajima Saburosuke, claimed to be a vice-governor of the surrounding area of Uraga. In truth

though he was a police commander and aide to the vice-governor (Feifer, p. 108). After being told the American's purpose, to deliver a letter to the Japanese Emperor from the President of the

United States requesting better treatment of shipwrecked sailors and amity between the two nations, he was sent off to fetch someone of higher rank. However, before he went, the

Commodore warned that the swarm of armed Japanese guard ships that had put out to hem in the 60

American vessels should immediately retreat, "Our boats are now armed and ready, and we

cannot allow you more than fifteen minutes to give your orders and to keep them off. At the end

of that time you must suffer [italics added]." (McOmie, pp. 94-97). Any attempts to forcibly

board the American ships would be met with violence.

From the beginning of his time in Japan, Perry showed that he had studied previous

unsuccessful embassies to the country. His predecessor, Commodore Bittle, had hosted a number

of Japanese officials aboard, but was told that he could not land or speak with anyone regarding

any official relations; this on top of the indignity of being surrounded by guard ships that brought

a constant stream of curious visitors and spies to inspect his squadron (Heine, pp. 1-5). Perry had

decided, upon reading this account and others, that he would take a different tact. He would hold

himself aloof, and book no disrespect. He would use threats of force, and repeatedly hold

Japanese law in contempt to display that he had not come as a tributary, but as an equal

expecting and demanding respect. His steamships and their large guns would be the backing to

his menaces.

The next day, another official claiming to be the governor of Uraga came aboard, but

Kayama Eizaimon was in fact another police commander. Immediately, this faux governor

ordered Perry to Nagasaki, citing that all official business with foreign nations was conducted there. Perry, refusing to meet with Kayama, answered through his subordinates that he would not go to Nagasaki, either to deliver the letter or receive its reply, as he considered the submissive position occupied by the Dutch insulting to American honor. Furthermore, if his letter could not be received in the area around Uraga, he would simply steam up the bay and enter Edo itself, only an hour away (McOmie, pp. 102-103). This was in fact somewhat of a bluff, as the few charts in the mission's possession were woefully inadequate, to the point that one of the ships on 61

the return trip, the Macedonian, would be crippled by a previously unrecorded reef (Pineau, p.

156).

Perry's capability of immediately steaming up to Edo aside, the claim was given more credence once the Japanese understood what the smaller American cutters were doing; they were sounding the bay for depth. Though Kayama would complain that this was against Japanese law,

Perry would simply reply through his intermediaries that it was against American law to not sound in a new bay, and he was as bound by that law as were the Japanese officials by theirs; the action again reinforcing that he considered himself their equal (Pineau, p. 94). While these sounding ships could normally have been easily turned back by the small fleet of junks and

17,000 samurai called to arms in response to Perry's arrival, the steamer Mississippi made such an attempt suicide (McOmie, p. 119). If these sounding boats had been unprotected, or under the guns of a sail ship, they could have been easily assaulted or prevented from moving further up the bay. The sail sloops Plymouth and Saratoga were fairly well armed with twenty-two guns each, but were at the mercy of the wind (Zabriskie, p. 7). The weather at Uraga would continue

to prove a problem for the sloops in the future, but with the steamships, the sounding boats could

be carefully guarded and discourage any of the Japanese from blocking the American's

outrageous actions. Additionally, the superb maneuverability of the ships allowed for more

effective protection. Even if Perry could not immediately travel to Edo, the soundings would

soon allow him to and any attempt to stop them was doomed to fail.

In fear that Perry could actually make good on his threat, the bakufu would eventually

agree to send some mid-level officials to receive the President's letter at Kurihama, slightly south of Uraga city. In a great display of pomp and ceremony, the Commodore landed, along with an honor guard of around three hundred sailors and marines. Trouble had been anticipated on both 62

sides. The Americans, in dress uniform, were all required to carry a musket or pistol and a

sword. Even Dr. Williams, a missionary and scholar, was required to arm himself with a sword

(Williams, p. 59). The Japanese, for their part, had 10,000 soldiers arrayed, including muskets

and cavalry, and an additional 7,000 in the immediate area (Morison, p. 325). Each American

had been issued twenty rounds of ammunition, and told they might have occasion to use each

one (McOmie, p. 119-120). If every American had twenty rounds of musket ammunition or Colt

revolver, which were only issued to officers, the party had about two rounds of ammunition per

foe (Heine p. 67). That would also only be terribly useful until the Japanese were upon them, at

which time they would be facing spear, swords, and heavy cavalry. The Commodore must have

been very aware that if violence occurred, a Japanese victory was all but assured.

The Mississippi and Susquehanna had been ordered to cover the shore with their guns;

the Plymouth and Saratoga were stuck out of gun range due to a lack of wind (Perry, p. 291).

Despite some academics currently considering this a safety net for the American party, an important fact is often overlooked or omitted. The Americans and Japanese were standing next to each other. The guns might wreak some havoc on the samurai farther out, but even with the landing party so heavily armed, it is unlikely any significant number of Americans would have made it out alive. Major Zeilin, commander of the marines, "vowed to fight to the last man"

(McOmie, p. 119). The Commodore, especially, once he had entered the tent where the letters were to be delivered, was assured death if things went sour. Ten samurai had volunteered to cut down Perry if it became necessary, and were concealed within a secret compartment below the treaty tent, prepared to break out and slay the Commodore at a signal from the party above

(Feifer, p. 122).

Why, with the American party in an incredibly weak position, did the Japanese not

attack? Outnumbered twenty to one, one American sailor had estimated it would have only taken

fifty minutes for the Japanese to wipe out the American party (Feifer, p. 121). Aside from

perhaps a sense of honor in not attacking an emissary, there were two threats. Perry had

overstated the size of American naval power in the Pacific, saying, "The steamships of

increasingly great America could, he exaggerated, reach Japan in eighteen or twenty days and

would soon "cover the seas." (Feifer, p. 124). The other was those steamers who were

menacingly close to the shore and could perhaps attack Edo within an hour if provoked.

Whether or not they believed Perry's exaggeration, the threat of a war with a

technologically superior foe was not one the bakufu relished. Yet, there were many daimyo,

afterward polled by Abe Masahiro, the head of the Regency Council or roju, who advocated this

course of action. Better to die in battle than accept the shameful position China was put in

(McOmie, p. 138). Still others, well informed of the Opium War through the Dutch at Dejima,

advocated opening the country, not in a spirit of internationalism, but for Japan to advance her

arms enough to enforce an exclusion policy in the 19th century (Feifer, pp. 193; 210). The roju

was split along similar lines, and it was decided that accepting the letter was not a sufficient loss

of face to risk war over and would provide time to discuss the next step (Feifer, p. 118).

Putting caution before pride, the officials were ordered by Edo to receive the President's

letter, but not to speak; they were directed to keep silent while they received the letter with the exception of exchanging compliments (Perry, p. 285). This they did, and after gave Perry a receipt that included, depending on which translation is read, either an order or a request to depart. Perry, again showing he was not to be dismissed like some tribute bearer, actually spent the rest of that day and the next sounding even further north to Kawasaki (Barrows, p. 290). He 64

had observed that the closer he moved, or threatened to move, towards Edo, the more pliable the

Japanese became (Pineau, p. 100). It was a trick he would use once again the following year.

Though Perry would always keep up the pretense that ships moving within cannon range of Edo

would not fire unless fired upon, he was also, even after the letter was received, not afraid to

claim openly that if it came to war, America would win. In fact, Perry had two white flags delivered along with instructions in their use (Feifer, p. 126).

Only a fear of causing a panic and damaging his own position caused Perry turn back.

The point had been made; he would not be ordered anywhere (Walsworth, p. 108). His sounding also helped to support his previous suspicion that his steamers could enter the bay. When Perry sounded the bay to Kawasaki, within five miles of Edo, he was reporting a depth of twenty fathoms, or 120 feet, further from shore. Furthermore, according to a chart of the bay drawn by the expedition, gun range depth to Kawasaki was limited to around seven fathoms, or 42 feet

(Perry, p. 262). This was large enough to float the large ship of the line, the Vermont, that Perry had been promised (Pineau, p. 102). As Perry cruised further up the bay, he observed that only two steamers of very shallow draft could most likely make it in range, that is to say two miles, of

Edo (Feifer, p. 27).

This target, more than any other, is most likely what caused the bakufu to agree to the Treaty of Kanagawa the following year. If the American fleet had fired on Edo, the symbolic and actual locus of Tokugawa power would burn. The Japanese officials boarded Perry's flagship had seen the Paxihan guns and immediately recognized, probably from descriptions via the Dutch, what they were; explosive shell cannon (Perry p. 287). If they fired on the castle and Edo proper, the town would burn to the ground. The sloops, not equipped with the Paxihans, were also limited by the often-difficult winds in Edo bay, and may not have been able to even get into gun range of 65

the capital due to their draft. Perry was rather explicit that only shallow draft steamers were likely to be able to make it. Any attack on the Americans may have slain Perry, but promised to see Edo burn as an immediate reprisal.

The following day, the squadron would steam out of the Uraga channel, once again towing the sail ships, much to the relief of the Japanese officials. Yet, Perry left with the promise not only to return the following spring for an answer, but that he would bring even more ships

(Walsworth, pp. 101; 110)

Even in his leaving, Perry calculated how to save face perfectly. The squadron was running low on supplies, and had they demanded an immediate answer could have been stalled until they were forced to withdraw in ignominy (Perry, p. 315).

While Perry returned to Canton via Okinawa to resupply and await the rest of his squadron, Abe Masahiro began his aforementioned polling. Abe, a young but talented head of the roju, was the true power in Japan. The aged shogun was close to death, and in fact the news of Perry's arrival would be the shock from which he would never recover. While the Imperial court under Emperor Komei was attempting to elbow its way back into temporal matters, Abe was the man charting Japan's future course (Feifer, pp. 201; 209). This is not to say he was an autocrat, either in practice or nature. It was reportedly his way to always attempt to reach a consensus, or at least make all of the daimyo affected by new policy feel as if they were involved in the process. It would earn him a reputation as indecisive, yet it added greatly to his stability of rule (Feifer, p. 204).

In these incredibly difficult times, Abe took the amazing step of appointing his archrival, the daimyo of Mito, as defense adviser for the country. The daimyo, Tokugawa Nariaki, had

been under house arrest for too loudly criticizing the lack of coastal defense under the bakufu,

and advocating for the Emperor to regain some of his temporal power. Abe had him released and immediately asked his opinion (Feifer, pp. 102; 197). From the first, Nariaki was in favor of war.

He felt that, given time, Japan could shore up her defenses enough to beat back Perry if he dared to attack. He stated that as Britain had only begun industrializing fifty years before, Japan could easily catch up (Feifer, p. 200). Doubtless this was wishful thinking, but it does show the thought process of a major pro-war daimyo of the time. At this time, work was undertaken to strengthen shore batteries and warships were ordered from the Dutch (Walworth, p. 152). It quickly became obvious, however, that such measures would not be enough. Japan would need five or six years, not the scant eight months it had, to even begin to imagine possessing enough strength to prevent foreign steamships from entering Edo Bay (McOmie, p. 199). A letter was sent via the Dutch consul general in the Dutch East Indies to inform Perry of the "Emperor's" death, actually the shogun, and to inform him that this would naturally lead to a delay in Japan's answer. However, the roju did not put much faith in the hope that Perry would believe or honor this, as he indeed did not (Perry, p. 373).

Nariaki came, eventually, to Abe's way of thinking. Japan had to be opened so that new technology could be obtained in order to better defend Japan. Yet while Nariaki stated that the

Americans should be "cordially received", he still felt that war was inevitable and insisted Japan had to prepare (McOmie, p. 196). Put in the words of Dr. Williams, the chief interpreter, when asked how the Japanese could learn tactics, "Only by your going abroad or letting us come here."

(Williams, p. 63). By turning the greatest war advocate to his side, Abe gained critical political capital for what was to come in the spring.

However, Perry would not wait for spring. Canton was abuzz with news of the ongoing

Taiping Rebellion, and pressure was put on the Commodore to help protect American interests.

His precious coal was every day eyed jealously by other Western powers, and eventually some of

it was sold to the British. Calls from Washington reminded him to only use peaceable tactics, and

government agents in China were attempting to requisition some, if not all, of his ships

(Walworth, p. 128-132). While President Franklin Pierce was a personal friend of Perry's, his

request for reinforcements for the casualties he had incurred, and a replacement for the Vermont was flatly denied; he was told he had more than enough to accomplish his mission (Morison, pp.

288; 347).

Perry realized that by not returning to Japan with the overwhelming force promised, and within the time frame he had set, his position would be damaged critically. The American government in Canton was less concerned with Perry's goals than protecting American interests around China, and Perry may have been wary of staying too long. He may very well have found himself ordered to remain in China if orders from Washington arrived before he left for Japan

(Morison, p. 344).

Then too there was the issue of Russia. Rumors had been swirling that Russia was reviving old attempts to open Japan as America was currently doing, and now a mission was reported as going to Nagasaki (McOmie, p.168). The mission was doomed to failure, partly because its commander did not have the aggressiveness of Perry, and they would eventually be stalled for so long that the Russian admiral would sail home in frustration (McOmie, p. 167-168).

Still, the news that other nations were circling was alarming. By adding rivals to the mix, Japan may have been able to play one off the other, or grant limited rights to one in exchange for preventing the Americans sailing to Edo. Fearing he would lose his chance, and perhaps glory as 68

the Secretary of the Navy suggested, Perry would not wait for his entire squadron (Pineau, pp.

138-139). Giving up one ship to protect Americans in China, he set sail for Japan again in

January of 1854 with ten ships, stopping off in Okinawa, and arriving off Uraga in early

February (Walworth, p. 133; 155).

The Japanese, again informed via Nagasaki of Perry's arrival, greeted him fairly warmly.

The decision had already been made to promise to better treatment of shipwrecked sailors, their

abuse having been exaggerated as it was, and to provide provisions and fuel at one port. As for

trade, nothing had been decided, many calling for promising it, and then stalling its

implementation (Feifer, pp. 229-230).

Perry had not lost his touch in dealing with the bakufu, however. When the Japanese

suggested the previous area of Uraga or Kamakura for a place to treat, Perry would flatly refuse,

stating that Uraga was too dangerous of a port. Kamakura, where his ship Macedonian would get stuck on a reef, was likewise not safe enough (Pineau, pp. 158; 160). The Japanese pointed out that Uraga had previously served, and refused to move the meeting. It took Perry once again threatening to go up to Edo if he was not received opposite the new American anchorage to get the Japanese to agree to Kanagawa for treaty discussions (Pineau, pp. 158-164). It should be said that while the squadron was suffering from the foul weather of Uraga, Perry states quite clearly in his journal that he was perusing his highly successful policy of not bending to any Japanese request he considered damaging to the perception of his equality (Pineau, p. 164).

The discussions would go well for the Americans. Aside from the assurances for shipwrecked sailors and the one port, Perry used similar strong arm tactics to have Hakodate added, and for the Japanese to wave off Naha as being the responsibility of the Okinawan king.

Additionally, trade would be opened, and Americans given permission to land in Japan. Consuls

were also permitted to take up residence at the port of Shimoda, on the island of Honshu (Pineau,

pp. 169-172). Perry, evidently finally willing to allow the Japanese side to gain a little bit, apologized to the head negotiator, Hayashi, for any trouble he may have caused and for his

"ignorance of Japanese law" (Feifer, p. 254). Despite this, to drive the nature of the new arrangement home, Perry would take the steamer Powhatan far enough into Edo bay to see both

Edo castle, and to assure himself and the Japanese that he could easily come within gun range.

He was only dissuaded from issuing a "salute" to the "Emperor" by the commissioners present on the Powhatan threatening to commit seppuku if the Americans dropped anchor, and to physically block the cannon with their bodies if they were loaded (Feifer, pp. 254-255). Perry would relent, but the point of such a demonstration was lost on none present.

While the Americans would feel that they had gained what they wanted without imparting any lasting damage, their actions and the bakufu capitulation would change Japan forever. This would be the start of the bakumatsu, or the end of the last bakufu. Emperor Meiji would become head of the country in 1868, and the office of shogun abolished. The bakufu's inability to turn the barbarian out would lead to such widespread samurai discontent as to cause the Boshin War and eventual Restoration.

Yet, the bakufu was perfectly well aware that agreeing to the American terms would be a humiliation that would shake their power to the core. They had failed to defend the Land of the

Gods. The Chinese characters that make up the full title of sei-i-taishogun (征夷大将軍) mean

"great barbarian-crushing generalissimo". Their actions had literally violated the very title the

Tokugawa family had held for 250 years (Feifer, p. 201). The Minamoto had fallen partly due to similar fallout after the Mongol invasions. Why, if this is the case, did they submit to Perry's 70

demands? As many daimyo pointed out, the Americans might have simply have gone away if they said no or stalled (Feifer, p. 209). Indeed, had the Japanese not attacked the Americans,

Perry's hands would have been tied; he had already somewhat exceeded his writ by even threatening violence. If he attacked unprovoked, he would have been in direct defiance of a presidential order.

Even, if it came to war, Perry had only the ten ships carrying roughly 2,000 men, not all of whom were fighters (Pineau, p. 225). The Japanese were also aware of the Taiping rebellion and the fact America would have been somewhat focused there. They could not hope to defeat the tens of thousands of samurai in the immediate area, let alone what daimyo could be pressed to provide if the war continued.

The sloops and supply ships Perry had with him were not heavily armed, and may not have even been able to reach Edo. Additionally, while the large sixty-eight pound Paxihans were the main armament of the Susquehanna, the sloops were not carrying such heavy guns; they may not have been able to fire on the shore without coming into range of the Japanese batteries if they could get that close to begin with (Feifer, p. 64). Being closer to the shore also meant a defense could still be launched via the large armada of junks there, a threat many took seriously, "The boats of the Japanese - fast, well built, skillfully maneuvered - therefore remained the greatest threat. And in battle the sturdy Japanese soldiers would have proved to be champions of cold steel." (Heine, p. 68). The Emperor was even praying to the gods for deliverance and many others hoping for another divine wind. Indeed one would come down on the squadron as they left in July of 1853 (Feifer, pp. 4; 35).

The answer comes down to the steamships. The bakufu had heard of China's fate from

the Dutch, and while the common people ran in terror or stared in wonder at the floating

volcanoes of the barbarians, the officials who visited the ships so often never showed even a hint

of surprise. They were interested and studied them in minute detail, but were not surprised. They

had heard of the power of these ships, of the Paxihan guns, and seen for themselves how they moved against the wind (Perry, p. 287). Nakahama Manjuro, an exception to the law that stated

Japanese returning from abroad would be put to death, shared his experiences in America with

the roju, and various daimyo were known to have access to journals, newspapers such as the

London Illustrated News , and to collect books, especially those on "military matters and

shipbuilding." (Walsworth, p. 145). Indeed, that divine wind in 1853 had failed to drown any

sailors, cause significant damage, or sink a single ship; even the gods could not defeat these

ironclad vessels (Heine, p. 75). Whether or not Perry would make good on his threat, the fact

was that now, as never before, he could make good on it. If Edo, and especially the castle,

burned to the ground, the damage done to the bakufu would be too great in both a political and

very real sense. Fallout from the capitulation could perhaps be handled; the destruction of Edo

could not.

There are additional other factors that affected this decision. Edo was largely dependent

on supplies of rice being shipped in via junks traversing Edo bay. It is possible, in order to apply

pressure to the bakufu and avoid overstepping his mandate, Perry could have blockaded the bay

and caused a food shortage (Feifer, p. 228). If his menaces thus far would not earn him censure,

it is unlikely anything short of firing the first shot would. Whether an overland route existed that

could have immediately picked up the slack is unknown, but the major centers of Osaka, Kyoto,

and Tokyo were connected by the Great Eastern Sea Road.

Secondly, unbeknownst to Perry, the bakufu was in dire straits financially. Abe would be hard pressed to come up with the money to shore up coastal defenses, and there were simply no new sources of income, one official stating to the roju that, "Unless I tell you frankly about the condition of the treasury, you cannot appreciate the situation. If you saw the accounts you would be startled, and would learn at a glance the hopelessness of going to war." (Walworth, p. 143).

Yet, the government was able to purchase ships from the Dutch, and to make some attempts at improving the shore batteries. Perhaps this is why Abe was so keen to involve daimyo not traditionally aligned with the bakufu when gathering opinions; if you have a rich lord advocating war it is far easier to squeeze him to pay for it.

These issues aside, the largest motivation in this capitulation was due to American steamship power. Japan was mostly sealed from foreigners, but was not unaware of world events; the Dutch brought them news of various goings on, including the American Revolution some eighty years previous and the more recent defeat of China in the Opium War (Feifer, p.

101). The Japanese were painfully aware of what these ships could do, and Perry was not afraid to intimate that a refusal would see him anchor off Edo, and aggression would cause him to level the city.

Even having the bay violated by American ships would have been humiliating, even if they had not attacked. Additionally, if an opposed landing became necessary, having access to

Edo via the bay was vital; Japan unlike China had no rivers that would be navigable to large warships. Perry himself noted that the largest rivers surrounding Edo "[could] admit junks of 70 or 80 tons" (Pineau, p. 90). The lightest ship in Perry's squadron, the Southampton, was a two- gun store ship with a compliment of only 45 men and weighed 567 tons (Zabriskie, p. 7). If Edo was not assailable via bombardment from anchor in the bay, any American forces would be 73

forced to land elsewhere and march inland to reach the capital, outside cover of the ship's guns and into a land of which they had no concept of geography. Otherwise, if forces were landed from Edo bay itself, they would be landing against an entrenched foe with a large number of junks to meet them before they even got to the shore. Having to land under fire from shore batteries and archers, whatever men made it to the shore would be hopelessly outnumbered.

Either course was suicidal.

However, as the Americans approached closer to the capital, and with the ill feeling that could be caused by Japanese refusal and the current American violation of Japanese sovereignty, it was becoming more and more likely something would happen to spark a conflict. If it came to battle the steamships, in the opinion of Perry, could come into range, and rain fire down upon

Edo as no other ship in history could have done before.

Abe as well could not have set upon his preferred course of limited opening without the steamships. While the threat of war may have been a possibility even without steamships, opponents like Nariaki most likely would never have agreed to any sort of conciliation unless the threat was significantly dire. When he requested the opinions of all the daimyo and Imperial court, almost three fourths were committed to war (Feifer, p. 210). The shore batteries of the time in Japan had limited range, but were not useless, reaching out about 800 yards (Feifer, p.

65). Given the weakness of maneuverability in sail ships, the lack of American willingness to commit large forces and ships to the mission given the looming conflict at home and the current troubles in China, it is possible Japan could have fought off a fully sail squadron from the shore and suffered no immediate retaliation from the Americans. Even if a landing was managed, the numbers would never have been in favor of the Americans.

Japan may not have known of American domestic trouble caused by slavery, but the sloops

alone would not have been overly menacing. Indeed, next to the steamships, they were the best

vessels Washington was willing to divert. Perry had been promised the Vermont, a true battleship, but the Navy had been unable to crew such a large ship due to lack of funds.

(Morison, p. 275). When he had requested a replacement, he had been told frankly that no more troops or ships were forthcoming (Morison, p. 374).

The panic the steamships caused among the common people and the specter they raised over Edo were enough to overcome domestic Japanese opposition to the treaty. The parallels between the Opium War and what was happening in Japan would not have been missed by the well-informed roju, nor the vital part steamships had played in that conflict.

The course set by Abe and eventually acceded to by Nariaki was the only sensible one at the time. Japan should open, become strong enough to be the military equal of any Western nation, and then demand its sovereign rights. This is precisely what she did during the Meiji

Restoration, building what would become one of the strongest naval powers in the world.

CHAPTER 5 CONCLUSION European successes in Burma, China, and India could only have been accomplished in the situations presented by the introduction of the steamship. The Irrawaddy, Yangtze, Peiho, and Edo Bay could not have been accessed by these forces without shallow draft steamers.

Traditional sailing ships simply rode too deeply in the water to bring their more advance guns to bear on large Asian population centers and support troops marching overland. For navies operating out of European and American ports, steamers were unreliable, expensive, and very dangerous experiments that could not serve more than an auxiliary role. For colonial areas, however, the steamship could operate in areas where ships of the line could not go and where troop movements were limited by lack of supplies, lack of roads, and usually a lack of basic geographic knowledge. Without being able to threaten cities like Ava, Nanking, and Edo it is unlikely the local governments would accede to, at best, disadvantageous trade agreements and at worst ruinous terms of surrender. While it may have been possible to bring large armies and artillery to these locations via foot or pack animals, the costs, both in terms of human lives and money, would simply have been too high. As Headrick rightly points out, quinine would do something to reduce the cost in terms of human lives, but these men still had to be equipped, fed, paid, and medically treated in case of illness or injury (Headrick, p. 66). Likewise, quinine would only protect soldiers from malaria. While a deadly disease was reduced in severity, soldiers still suffered from its effects and the host of other illnesses they encountered. The military forces would not as quickly see their forces reduced to unsustainable numbers, but attrition was still an issue; quinine was not a magic bullet against the loss of soldiers to disease.

The conquests discussed herein were mainly undertaken by budget-conscious members of government, who carefully weighed the potential gains from trade before engaging in warfare

(Headrick, p. 11). Spending large sums on gaining access to new markets had to offset the cost of conducting operations; this being the reason for the fallout in the East India Company after the

First Burmese War. Advantageous trading positions were usually what these powers desired when going to war; in the case of China and Japan this was the explicit purpose behind the missions. One may win the war to prove a point, but if a nation spent far more than it was ever likely to recoup from concessions, the war was pointless and potentially disastrous. Honor would only motivate a nation so far. The EIC was motivated in its conflicts by the desire to create new sources of revenue to assure its continued governance of India and America by the desire to increase her share of the China trade and enrich herself (Cain, p. 280; Palmer, p. 6). It should also be remembered that both the United States and Great Britain were not countries with autocratic governments; ruling parties that authorized these conflicts needed to justify them politically. During the Opium War, Parliament would spend more time discussing where the money was coming from rather than the justness of the war. It was also clear at the time that the

Whig opposition in the Commons was simply not going to agree to a large expenditure on the conflict; the government had to create at least a finically zero sum war (Gelber, p. 87).

Likewise, these Asian powers also calculated the cost of capitulation versus resistance. In all three cases, these conflicts would begin the process of seeing the governments in power deposed. The court at Ava, the Qing, and the Tokugawa bakufu would all fall more or less directly as a result of these conflicts. Yet, had they resisted in the fact of powers with steamship technology, they most likely would have immediately lost power. Without that technology, the political and social turmoil caused by capitulation would have been far greater than an invasion

that could not penetrate to the capitals of these Asian nations. However, being ejected from Ava,

Peking, or Edo would most likely have been an immediate death sentence for these rulers' authority, if not a literal one for the rulers themselves. Power rests in where the people believe it rests, and to see that perception demonstrated positively false by foreign seizure of the capital is far worse than taking a submissive position in trade and foreign policy. Without that threat on the seat of a government's power, however, very little could outweigh that aforementioned humiliation. That these nations had a central seat to threaten further weakened their position; as large central powers they could not abandon their capitals to fight in the hills. The Burmese court would spend the rest of its rule fighting rebels striking from both its own provinces and British controlled Bengal. China would deal with a number of large rebellions and revolutionaries; Sun

Yat-sen himself was directly involved in no fewer than seven (Spence, p. 258). The bakufu’s inability to protect Japan from foreign assault would see most of the daimyo not traditionally aligned with them gain confidence in their opposition to the military government. Young, lord- less samurai would descend upon Kyoto, shedding blood in the name of restoring the emperor and expelling the barbarians. Ii Naosuke, the power behind the bakufu and the last chance for their recovery, was cut down by these same young samurai for the crime of signing one of the hated treaties (Jansen, p. 295). Soon after armies of the south would rise and march upon Edo to force the shogun to abdicate and place the Meiji emperor as head of the country for the first time in a millennia.

The expansion of British India to include Burma, the fall of the Qing, and the Meiji

Restoration are all major events in the late 19th to early 20th century that had their beginnings in foreign powers steaming into previously inaccessible rivers and bays. Set into motion by these invasions, the entire balance of power in Asia would shift dramatically. The world would see the

rise of a militant expansionist Japan, a decaying and chaotic China that would suffer almost continual conflict until 1950, and the formerly powerful Burma put directly under the control of the British Empire. While there is a wealth of factors that led to all of these events, and one could almost never say with any certainty that the removal of one event would prevent a similar course in history, the introduction of the steamship to Asia had a massive pull on that course. It cannot be denied that those particular intrusions were only made possible by the steamship technology possessed by those powers. Had the threat not come, quite literally, to their doorstep, it is unlikely these Asian powers would have capitulated. To do so was a thoroughly destabilizing act, and it is unlikely that without the extra reach provided by steamers that European powers would have been able to make a cost justified decision for war. It is not possible to predict what Britain or America would have done, faced with a war that would cost them far more to win then they would ever regain, but it is logical to assert that it is highly unlikely they would have continued these conflicts past the point of profitability; this being especially true in the case of the EIC with its main objective being the creation of new revenue (Cain, p. 279). The entire reason European fleets had sailed from their home ports to fill in the blank spaces on their maps was in search of profit, and the power and prestige that an economy strengthened by colonial possessions can bring. Likewise, in a Europe that had just seen the defeat of Napoleon and the horror of the

Crimea, it is unlikely that any power on that continent would have been willing to risk pouring funds into pacifying a colony today that might be needed for a war at home tomorrow.

As pointed out before, current scholarship recognizes the immense importance in technological disparity between Asia and Europe in these conflicts. Yet, while better arms and medicine played their part, only the steamship can truly be labeled invaluable. This claim is not revolutionary or heterodox in the face of current research; instead it is an extension of the

arguments that have been made previously. Good research can and should be built upon to gain a

clearer understanding of the course of history. By understanding the part that steamship

technology played in the opening of Asia, we gain a better understanding of how the entire

course of imperialism and 20th century history in Asia came about. While only one factor among

many other important ones, this technology is an important, and previously underappreciated,

reason for European victories in colonizing Asia and expanding trade. Many scholars touch upon

the importance of the steamship, but few give to it the importance it deserves; even Headrick’s work only details how vital the Nemesis was in the First Opium War. To simply label technological disparity as the main reason for European victories in colonial warfare is not to acknowledge the exact details of the part technology played in those wars, nor the other factors that were also important. This work has not been an attempt to assign the steamship sole credit for colonial victories in the 19th century. Rather, it has been an attempt to redress the lack of emphasis placed upon the steamship and argue that without this technology these wars would, most likely, have not been won. Other factors were important, and perhaps equally as valuable, but steamships were a definite prerequisite for victory. The ability of European powers to

suddenly project their power far further inland than before, allowing for much more secure

supply and communication lines and better troop mobility was made possible by use of the

steamship. This intrusion was vital in tipping the scales between resistance or capitulation to the

latter in the minds of these Asian powers. That capitulation would lead to an Asia, and a world,

profoundly changed from the dawning of the 19th century. Steamships were vital in forging the world that would see the political order of Asia completely changed. In these wars presented here, a few thousand men and a handful of ships brought down some of the most powerful nations in Asia. A study of the steamships role is vital in understanding how such a feat came

about. Without such technology, it is unlikely that almost 70% of the Earth's surface would be under European control by the dawning of the 20th century.

REFERENCES

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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH After graduating from Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas, Matthew traveled to Toyama, Japan where he worked as an English teacher for nearly four years. After returning to the United States in 2011, Matthew enrolled in the Florida State University’s Asian

Studies program that fall. He was advised by Dr. Jonathan Grant in the preparation of this thesis.

His research interests include Japanese history, Chinese history, military history, and politics in

Asia. After graduating from Florida State, Matthew hopes to pursue a PhD in History at

International Christian University in Tokyo, Japan.