“Typical of them,” said Admiral James Hope, the commander of the British Fleet for this adventure. “They speak out of both sides of their mouth, say one thing, but do another. This is intolerable. We shall have no recourse other than to run up the gunboats and silence those forts. Then we can clear these obstacles and proceed up river.”
That would prove to be more easily said than done. The river was now guarded by a series of forts named after a town at its mouth, Taku. These so called “Taku Forts” were stony outposts, each one with a crenulated wall where the barrels of rudimentary cannons would jut forth to threaten any ships attempting to pass on the river. It was here that the bluster and arrogance of the Westerners would meet its first test, at what became known as the 2nd Battle of the Taku Forts.
The British had the bulk of the naval units at hand, and so Admiral Hope, now succeeding Seymour, organized his flotillas. He had 11 gunboats at his disposal, small craft of 230 to 270 tons, and most having only two guns, one boat, the Cormorant, had four guns, and the best of the flotilla was the Nimrod, a six-gun sloop.
The ensuing engagement would give the Chinese every reason to think they could carry on with their game of delay, bluff, and subterfuge with the British. It was ill managed from the first, when Hope attempted to advance up river at low tide, and could only get four gunboats over the sandbars, Plover, Opossum, Lee, and Haughty.
On the left bank of the river mouth, the “Great South Fort” was a long entrenchment, with three stone parapets and 58 guns of all sorts. Just beyond its southern end was another squarish fort with 10 guns. The matter at hand was to first find a way to silence the enemy guns, so as to permit the bluecoat Marines aboard the gunboats to land and have at them.
Using the word ‘land’ was a bit of a misnomer on two counts. Firstly, the approach to the forts, through the shallows of the river, would quickly become a slog through mud flats. So there was no place to “land,” and the act of attempting to do so would better be described as a wallow, and not a landing. If Hope were to get men over those wetlands to dryer land beyond, he would then be faced with rows of barbed wood piles and other entanglements as a barrier, and beyond this was a series of trenches or moats, the last of which was a deep flooded ditch. Only then could the troops attempt to scale the walls of the fort, and if they did get up, there would be hundreds of Chinese troops waiting for them there.
Against this defense, Hope would fling his leading four gunboats, with two guns each. The British howitzers were newer, more accurate, more powerful, but being outnumbered 58 to 8 was a rather severe handicap. The result was a foregone conclusion.
The day was fine and hot, the Chinese gunfire hotter, and very well ranged. They knew where the enemy boats would have to go, and had plenty of time to practice shooting right into the navigable channel.
Plover was one of the first to take hits, her commander, William Hector Rason, killed by shot from a cannon early on. The poor man was literally cut in two by a round, and died instantly. Admiral Hope’s Flag Lieutenant, George Douglas, took command of the gunboat, where the Admiral himself had been bold enough to plant his flag. It wasn’t long before he was also wounded by a splinter, and that wound, with the fact that Plover was being badly pounded, forced Hope to transfer his flag to the Cormorant, further back in the muddle of the other eight gunboats that had not managed to get over the bar.
Admiral Hope, weakened from loss of blood, turned command over to Captain Shadwell, who was wise enough to see the attack was folly, and ordered the gunboats to withdraw. The Chinese were firing at everything, and had already sunk the Kestrel. Then Lee had to be grounded to avoid going down, and Shadwell could see that the naval engagement had been a disaster. So the little flotilla decided to turn the affair over to the Marines. In addition to their crews, there were 30 to 35 Marines on each gunboat, and so a force of 350 men was wallowed ashore on the left bank, beneath the parapet that had taken the most damage from the ill-fated gunboat sortie.
Of those 350 men, only about 50 would get through all the obstacles, over the flooded ditch, and actually make the attempt to scale the walls. Captain Shadwell would not make it, being wounded himself in the attempt. The Chinese had muskets, and would also rain down stones, hot pitch, and stinkpots on the exposed Marines below. It was soon clear that those 50 men were not going to take this fort, and so now the action became nothing more than an effort to get them safely back, and gather up as many of the wounded and fallen as possible.
The Barbarians had been stopped cold.
Two gunboats were sunk, another burned. 89 officers and men were killed, with 345 wounded. When the news reached Lord Elgin, he was incensed.
“How in the world? For us to be so roundly beaten by these Coolies and bearded Mandarins is an absolute insult! If this matter is to ever be resolved as it should, the Kingdom will have to get serious in the making of war there. I intend to go to Hong Kong Directly, and will wait until adequate forces are dispatched before taking any further action. British prestige is at stake here! This insult must be redressed.”
He might have used the word “avenged,” but would have even more cause to do so later. Lord Elgin’s demand for serious military muscle would be met. 12,600 troops would arrive from British India under command of Lieutenant General Sir Hope Grant. They were tough professional soldiers, the 44th Foot and 67th South Hampshires. To these, the French would add a fresh contingent of 8000 men under General Cousin de Montauban. The military would construct flat bottomed boats to get men over the shallows of the river, and rafts with landing planks. Soon Lord Elgin would lead that force into a maelstrom of wanton, rapacious violence.
It would begin on the 1st of August, 1860, and the action this time would mainly involve the landing of troops near the forts to then make an overland march and attack. General Grant was quite meticulous, a tall thin man, well-schooled, artistic, and an excellent musician as well. The men said he looked like a scrawny old lady, and often called him that, but he was a professional officer, through and through, and he would make short work of the “3rd Battle of the Taku Forts.”
The Chinese, mostly commanded by the Chinese local Governor Hengfu now, had mustered a small army of 5000 infantry and 2000 horsemen to confront the Western Barbarians. This force was not able to stop the allied advance, and Grant then ordered fascines to be built to house and protect his artillery. They would bring six field pieces, three 8-inch mortars, four more 8-in guns (two being howitzers), a pair of 32 pounders, and six more of the newer “Armstrong Guns.” They would pound the forts into submission in a four-hour barrage on the 18th of August, 1860.
With the fall of those forts, Tianjin would fall soon after, and the considerable force that Lord Elgin had assembled would begin its march inland, towards Peking. Only then did the Chinese send ministers proposing peace talks. The Imperial Emissary first encountered Harry Parkes, the man who had first heard the grievances of the hapless master of the Arrow. Parkes had been complaining about the French.