CHAPTER VII
Early Hongkong from Portuguese and other records –
Departure of Captain Elliot
For close on three hundred years, from the year 1557, Macao had been the “home from home” not only of Portuguese nationals but also of subjects of other countries who came seeking commercial relations with the Chinese. It was as much Camoens’s “land of sweet sadness” as it was the “Gem of the Orient Earth” of the staid British diplomat, the “haven of refuge” of the merchant and the woman pioneer, or the missionaries’ “bridge” to the almost hermetically sealed city of Canton. Here in this pleasant little city – a bit of Portugal transplanted on the shores of China – all were able to live in peace and tranquillity, and engage freely in their lawful pursuits.
Macao had known days of glory and had prospered greatly. She had had ups and downs, but the hospitality of her shores had not been denied to anyone. Here, early in the year 1841, officials of the British Government were actively engaged in preparations for the setting up of an establishment at Hongkong, ceded to Great Britain by China under the Chuenpi Convention.
Before introducing the young Macao “hopefuls” who were about to emigrate to the barren, mountainous island which the British had chosen as their outpost in the Far East, mention may be made of certain physical features of Hongkong which are of historical interest. The most striking is the eastern approach to the harbour of Hongkong: it is known as Lyeemun Pass and is the passage way through which most ocean-going vessels enter and leave Hongkong Harbour.
There exists, in the library of the Academia das Sciencias in Lisbon, an old Portuguese portulan map in original, of the coast of South China from Ilha de Carapuça de Mandarin (the same name is preserved in present-day British Admiralty charts) to Pedra Branca, east of Hongkong, in which Lyeemun Pass, the eastern entrance to Hongkong Harbour, is distinctly shown, but the Portuguese had another name for it. On that map Lyeemun Pass is called by the Portuguese Boca do rio do sal (The Mouth of the Salt River).
There are various theories to explain this curious name. One of them is that the narrow entrance to Hongkong Harbour was then so called because it was believed in those days that there were salt-pans on the mainland, not far from old Kowloon City, similar to the saltpans that can be seen at the present time in the New Territories on the southern side of the roadway linking the village of Taipo-Tsai with the district of Saikung to the North. It is more likely, however, that the name refers to the passage running from Tun-Mun (between Lintin Island and the mainland at Castle Peak) through Cap-Sui-Mun, Hongkong Harbour and Lyeemun Pass, forming a sort of channel or “river” of sea-water between the two points of Tun-Mun and Lyeemun. The early Portuguese navigators, it should be observed, were in the habit of testing the water upon the approach of their vessels to any opening in the coast where a swift current was noticed, to discover whether they were in the vicinity of an entrance to a river or to a strait. The test they applied was to cast an empty bucket at the end of a length of rope into the water and draw up a small quantity of water which they tasted. If the water happened to be salty they concluded that had found a strait, but if it was “fresh” the inference was that they were near the mouth of a river. It was this test which indicated to Magellan, for example, that the strait which now bears his name was a passage from the Atlantic to the Pacific Oceans. The test at Lyeemun proved that the Portuguese mariners were right in their supposition of the existence of a strait running the whole length from the mouth of the Canton River, at Tun-Mun, across Castle Peak Bay, through Cap-Sui-Mun, and the Harbour of Hongkong to Lyeemun Pass, at the sea end of the beautiful natural landlocked anchorage which bears the name of Hongkong Harbour. While the salt-pans theory should not be dismissed as without any foundation whatsoever, the explanation just given is more likely to be the correct one.
I can discover no printed books in any European language mentioning Lyeemun Pass by the original Portuguese name of the Mouth of the Salt River; but that name can be found in a Portuguese manuscript, now lying in the archives of the Public Library of Ajuda in Lisbon. The text of the manuscripts was published for the first time, with notes and correlated documents from the Macao archives, by Major C. R. Boxer and Mr. J.M. Braga. From that account we may learn that Father Pimentel, a Portuguese Jesuit, writing of the Embassy of Manuel de Saldanha to the Court of Peking, mentions the place. He begins by referring to the losses sustained by the Chinese government as a result of the enforcing of the Edict issued by the Regents of China in 1662. This edict, published during the minority of Emperor K’ang Hsi, ordered that all the inhabitants of China living near the coast should retire into the Chinese interior from the littoral, and aimed at depriving the Ming-supporting pirates under Koxinga of all trade and, so the authorities believed, of all means of earning a livelihood. Father Pimentel explains that that Decree was so prejudicial to the Chinese themselves that “the Emperor lost large revenues, in the ‘Salt River’ not far from Macao, among other places, which amounted to 18,000,000 taels a year”.
This is a reference to the taxes collected at the Revenue Station which once existed at Lyeemun. Dues were collected there on all merchandise passing from the coast of China, through Hongkong Harbour via Cap-Sui-Mun to Tun-Mun and so on to Canton. The closure of the Customs stations on the Coast meant the loss to the Manchu Government of many millions of taels of revenue each year.
Might not “Customs Pass” on the summit of the new Clear Water Bay road beyond “Jat Pass”, traversed by the old Anderson military road in the New Territories, be a reminder of the old Ming revenue-collecting station, the abandonment of which mean the loss of so much revenue annually to the Emperor’s chest in Peking?
Mr. S. F. Balfour, who specialises in research into the early history of the region of Hongkong and the New Territories, has published the results of his researches, from rare Chinese sources, in a contribution to the T’ien Sha Monthly,62 reproduced in book form under the title of Hongkong before the British. From the pages of the booklet
63 are reprinted the following extracts of considerable historical interest:64
“There are so many isthmuses and shallows, the most important being Mirs Bay itself, the Taipo Sea and the Sha Táu Kok isthmus, above which is the highest mountain of all Ng T’ung.
“This region has a country population consisting of four distinct communities known in Chinese as the Tanka, the Hoklo, the Punti and the Hakka.
“The Tanka or the Tan people are the Cantonese-speaking fishing population. The word Tan is a proper name and dictionaries define it.
“In 1723 an imperial edict was passed allowing them all the privileges of ordinary Chinese citizen, except the right to compete in the public examinations which they never obtained.
“The word Hok is a dialect variation of Fukien, and Hoklo are the Fukienese fishing people of our region, but there is another term for them always used in literature, Man. We have already seen that the Tanka are considered a branch of the Man tribe. The word is very ancient and is used synonymously for ‘barbarian’ or ‘uncouth’. From the name alone you can judge that the Hoklo were once considered by the Chinese as barbarians.
“The Punti are the Cantonese-speaking peasants, The word means ‘native to the country’ and is a weak adjective of the type used by one man to describe himself in relation to a different person. It therefore gives no clue to the origin of the people bearing it. They themselves claim to be of pure Chinese stock and to have colonised the province of Kwangtung from North China, and they refer to themselves as men of T’ang, meaning the T’ang dynasty. In many cases they can trace their ancestry back to Chinese settlers of northern stock, though there is no record of any arriving in the region earlier than the Sung dynasty (A. D. 960).
“The word Hakka means the ‘stranger people’; it is used to describe the peasants of a different dialect to Cantonese, who have settled in the hills and along the coast of our region. They themselves acknowledge that they are the latest comers into the region, and that they migrated from exclusively Hakka-speaking country between Kwangtung, Fukien and Kiangsi provinces. The Hakka of those parts declare that they migrated from North China and this tradition is confirmed in every way by scholars, often Hakka themselves, who have collated separate family histories. From these studies it is possible to know that the Hakka did not migrate south of Kiangsi before the 10th century A. D. and we can infer this that their appearance in this region was several centuries later.”
Elsewhere in his booklet,65 Mr. Balfour writes of the mass withdrawal of the population from the littoral of South-east China, mentioned by Father Pimentel, enlarging on the Jesuit priest’s brief reference to the subject:
“From the very beginning of the dynasty the coastal population was looked upon by the government with extreme suspicion. They were accused of being in sympathy with the cause of the Ming dynasty which was still being kept alive in certain centres along the coast. The Manchu government was never able to muster a good enough fleet to defeat the Ming remnants… the coastal shipping had been the last refuge of the defeated dynasty, the last hope of the Ming dynasty was centred in a fleet which they based at Formosa where they were entirely independent.
It occurred to the Manchus that the only way to avert the danger was to move the entire population of the China coast inland and to fortify the coast more completely. This colossal undertaking was put into practice without much organisation and without a thought of the suffering it entailed. The official reason given was the danger of pirates and the necessity of protecting the population against them …
“The evacuation was announced by a proclamation giving the people three days in which to remove behind a boundary which had been set up roughly 50 li from the coast. This was disregarded and soldiers had to be marched in to drive the people away… A second and more stringent evacuation took place … The evacuation in fact led to more disorder on the coast than there had ever been before … In 1663 for instance the Tanka fishermen who were prevented from earning a livelihood revolted all over the Canton estuary and at one time attacked Canton itself … In spite of this evacuation lasted from 1662 to 1669 … The return from evacuation was allowed partly because it had led to greater disturbance than before and partly because of the loss in taxes, which was estimated at 300,000 taels.”
I have mentioned the eastern gateway to Hongkong – Lyeemun Pass. There are two other entrances to Victoria Harbour: Sulphur Channel, the western approach from the open Sea, which lies between Green Island and Hongkong, and Cap-Sui-Mun Pass, known among the European sea-faring community as the “Inner Passage”. Cap-Sui-Mun has been described by the late Mr. Justice Lindsell as “the Gate through which water is sucked in”66 “The metaphor is taken from a fish inhaling, or more probably Kap Shui Mun, the gateway of rushing waters. In either case the name is obviously derived from the swirling currents which make the navigation of the Pass very tricky. “This channel connects the Canton River with Hongkong Harbour.
Having digressed to touch upon some of the geographical characteristics of Hongkong Harbour, let us now follow the steps taken in connection with the constitutional changes necessitated by the settlement of Hongkong and its merging into the British Dominions.
Captain Charles Elliot in a Circular dated 20th January, 1841, written from Macao, after the cessations of hostilities with the Chinese, declared that
“pending Her Majesty’s further pleasure, all British subjects and foreigners residing in, or resorting to, the island of Hongkong, shall enjoy full security and protection, according to the principles and practice of British law, so long as they shall continue to conform to the authority of Her Majesty’s government in and over the island of Hongkong, hereby duly constituted and proclaimed.”
Another proclamation issued in the joint names of the Commander-in-Chief Sir J.J. Gordon Bremer, and Captain Charles Elliot, Plenipotentiary, made known to the inhabitants of the Island of Hongkong “that that island has now become part of the dominions of the Queen of England, and all native persons residing therein must understand that they are now subjects of the Queen of England, and to whom and to whose officers they must pay duty and obedience. The inhabitants are hereby promised protection in Her Majesty’s Gracious Name, against all enemies whatever; and they are further secured in the free exercise of their religious rites, ceremonies and social customs and in the enjoyment of their lawful private property and interests. “
The British flag was hoisted in Hongkong, according to O Portuguez na China,67 on Tuesday, 26th January, 1841, when “the English took possession in the name of Her Majesty Queen Victoria of the new establishment ceded by the Chinese to the British. ” Shortly after the cession, a number of British and foreign merchants residing at Macao, went over to Hongkong to ascertain the possibilities of the new colony for themselves. With the merchants went missionaries also. Suitable sites for dwellings, store-houses, schools and churches were selected.
From the first, members of the Portuguese community at Macao were among the emigrants to the new British colony. Doubts existed, at the beginning, as to the permanency of Hongkong as a settlement; hence most of the British and foreign merchants continued to reside in Macao with their families. They preferred the greater salubrity and better security of the place which they knew and liked so well to the uncertainty of life on the bleak, rocky island of Hongkong, especially in view of the continued hostility in Canton against the British, despite Elliot’s eloquent appeal to sink their differences. On the 27th January an Imperial Chinese Edict declared inter-alia that
“A report had been received from Ke-shen, setting forth the attack on and capture of certain forts by the English. The rebellious dispositions of these foreigners being plainly manifest, there remains no other course but to destroy and wash them clean away, and thus display the majesty of the empire. Troops from Szechuen, Kansi, and Hunan, in all 100,000, were ordered to Canton.”
In the beginning of February the Chinese Government announced the renewal of war, and hostilities were resumed on the 18th February, 1841. The Battle of the Bogue commenced on the 26th, all the forts guarding the entrance to Canton falling in quick succession to the British troops commanded by Sir Gordon Bremer. After the fall of the city of Canton, hostilities ceased for the time being.
Among the bombards and culverins taken in the Chinese forts in the course of the hostilities were five bronze guns manufactured by the Portuguese at Macao in 1627, and which the Portuguese had presented to the Ming emperor at the time of the Manchu invasion of China. In a report appearing in the Macao weekly,68 the guns were described as very fine and valuable. They were distributed: 2 to the frigate H.M.S. Melville, 2 to H.M.S. Blenheim, and 1 to the ship Queen. The same newspaper stated that guns similar to those found at Ananahoy Fort were to be found at Ceylon, Bombay, Malacca and in other places which formerly belonged to the Portuguese, and which are to-day British possessions. These guns had been manufactured by Manuel Bocarro in Macao, and have been described by Major C. R. Boxer in his recent history Macao Three Hundred Years Ago.69 As stated by Major Boxer, one of these fine guns may be seen at the present time in the Tower of London.
Though Captain Elliot had hoped that the occupation on the South China capital would have led the Chinese to realise that the British were in earnest in their desire that conventions should be respected, the Canton authorities persisted in their hostile attitude towards the ‘barbarian’ invaders. The Manchu Court of Peking dismissed Ke-shen, and the next commissioner, Eleepoo, was also removed from office for not succeeding in defeating the British. All communication between Canton and Hongkong was strictly forbidden by the Chinese Government and other provocative edicts were published. Eventually, hostilities broke out again, and Canton was invested once more (26th May, 1841), and a new treaty signed. It might have been thought that the Chinese had had enough of defeats, but fighting continued at intervals for some time longer.
Even while the hostilities were going on, a few of the more enterprising foreign merchants in Macao began setting up their businesses in Hongkong. With the help of the Chinese labourers from Macao (for workmen were not available from Canton) it did not take long for a number of temporary sheds to be erected on the foreshore of Hongkong Island for the storage of merchandise and for use as shops. A few Chinese shop-keepers, also from Macao, transferred to Hongkong, and so went to increase the population of the young settlement. There was no trade to speak of, business for the most part being conducted at Macao, as in the past.
In between spells of hostilities, Captain Elliot found time to devote to plans for the development of Hongkong. A number of ordinances for the regulation of the new settlement were accordingly framed and put into force. The port was declared to be free, and traders of all countries were invited to bring their vessels into the waters of Hongkong; lots of land with marine frontage were sold by public auction to persons contemplating the building of houses; and various parts of the colony were laid out for commercial development and for residences, barracks, hospitals and churches.
Among the merchants who were anxious to try their fortunes in Hongkong none had greater faith in the new colony than Mr. James Matheson; but the majority of the British community in Macao had no good word for Hongkong, especially after terrifying reports began to circulate that a deadly fever caused by “morbific poison”, as they called it, arising from the soil,70 and fatal dysenteries, and intermittent ague were taking heavy toll among the pioneers of the new settlement. Captain Elliot was loudly blamed for having chosen a place “that had nothing to recommend it save a good anchorage and good water”.
The British Superintendency of Trade continued to function at Macao, where the Hongkong Government Gazette was published till 1842. As a matter of fact only the most enterprising of the traders were not disheartened by the obstacles encountered in Hongkong. With the help of their Portuguese clerical assistants and Chinese artisans and tradesmen from Macao, the various parts of the new settlement began to take shape.
Echoing the feelings of the community generally in Macao, early in the month of July, a dismal note was struck in the Macao weekly newspaper71 regarding the future of Hongkong when it referred to the damage Hongkong had suffered, more than had been thought likely, from the ravages of white ants and fever, the former destroying buildings and often clothing, and the latter killing many officials and soldiers. “If this state of things continues,” the newspaper went on, “Hongkong will have for its name ‘the Island of the Dead’, or the ‘Hospital of the Sickly’ “. In this respect O Portuguez na China anticipated the gloomy views expressed later in the columns of the English journals in Hongkong itself, and even in England, concerning the poor outlook for Hongkong.
Despite this early pessimism, Hongkong survived the perilous period of its infancy. Soon O Portuguez na China was able to report72 that 1,500 labourers were engaged in site formation, road levelling, and construction of the barracks and Government offices, etc. in Hongkong. The wages paid the workmen of the coolie class consisted of the modest sum of $5 each a month. It was difficult to secure a sufficient number of mechanics and artisans for employment because of the scarcity of skilled labour at that time.
In those early days, the buildings in Hongkong were of the native matshed type, but these were followed not long afterwards by houses of a more substantial nature, consisting of a ground floor of stone, or brick and stone, with a brick and wooden upper floor. The lower portion of the building was generally used for the storage of merchandise, and the first floor as offices or residence. This type of structure had been first adopted by the Portuguese in their colonies in the Far East, and many fine old buildings in this style may still be seen not in Macao but in cities like Malacca and a score of other places first colonized by the Portuguese.
As increasing numbers of masons and carpenters and other artisans arrived in Hongkong, residences for the officials and merchants were, in course of time, built on the lower slopes of the hills, above the city itself. Tradesmen, like shopkeepers, tailors, washermen, etc., were able to find scope for their activities in the new settlement. A report appeared in O Portuguez na China, the Macao weekly, to the effect that such a large number of tradesmen had gone from Macao to Hongkong, that the Portuguese colony was suffering somewhat. The paper stated that it had been informed that Chinese officials had warned the families of the Chinese in Macao having relations in Hongkong that if these relations did not return to their former homes their families would be handed over to the mandarins. The Portuguese authorities did not, however, restrict the freedom of the people. Nor does it appear that the Chinese officials actually carried out their threat.
In Hongkong everything pointed to progress, in spite of sickness and the heavy mortality. Unfortunately there occurred “during the summer of 1841 one of the worst typhoons that ever visited Hongkong”. A vivid description of the storm appears in Basil Lubbock’s book The Opium Clippers.73 “At daybreak on July 21”, he writes,
“the anchorage was crowded with shipping; all the men-of-war, transports and store-ships were in the harbour, getting ready for the descent upon Amoy. In addition there were a great number of merchant ships – Indiamen and free-traders from London and Liverpool; country craft from Bombay and Calcutta; opium receiving ships, clippers and coasters; American fur traders and South seamen; sandalwood and beche-de-mer brigs and schooners from the Fijis; one of the Bobby Towns’ decrepit Sydney-side island traders; and several nondescript traders of various nationalities, which had come ‘seeking’ to the new free port.
“Daybreak found nearly every ship preparing for the worst, furling awnings, sending down yards, housing top-masts, veering cable, putting on extra lashing, etc., though even at 6 o’clock there were about a few slack ships with royal yards across the awnings blowing about.
“Several transports, which had been busy transhipping stores, etc., alongside each other, now hurried to cast off and find clear berths, whilst hundreds of tanka boats, lorchas and junks were busy getting under way in the hopes of being able to get across to the Kowloon shore, where they would find shelter and smooth water.
“On the high stern of every junk stood a man beating a gong with all his might in an attempt to appease the storm-fiend; others of the crew were busy letting off crackers.
“In the midst of these unnerved Chinamen, a daring little schooner stood away for Macao. She had treasure aboard – 100,000 dollars so it was said – and two or three passengers. She was never seen or heard of again.
“Up above the growing town of Victoria, on the brow of the hill, was a hospital, built of bamboo and palmyra leaf, 200ft. Long by 18ft. broad, which was crowded to overflowing with officers and men from the 37th Regiment, some with fever, some with wounds, some with dysentery; indeed there was only one officer out of 18 and 100 men out of 600 still fit for duty. The doctor, MacPherson, was halfway through his rounds when this whole hospital was picked up by the storm and removed several feet away from its foundations. One can hardly imagine the terrifying scene; the shrieks and groans of the crushed patients, the crash of breaking beams, the howling of the wind, the splash and hiss of the rain, all combined to stun the senses of those who were striving to rescue the unfortunates pinned under the uprooted building. Barrack after barrack was levelled to the ground like the hospital, the wind even tore up the wooden flooring; officers’ quarters fell, and the wreckage was piled up and hurled along by the storm-fiend, so that it was dangerous to stay in the lines and there was a general sauve qui peut into the bush. Along the shore, the sea was soon flooding in far beyond the high-water mark, until it met the cascades of rain water which was pouring off the hills. The breakers, a mass of drift-wood, wreckage, bilged sampans and tanka boats, and mangled corpses, swept the beach, whilst masses of loose stones, rolling down the mountains, destroyed shops and godowns, whose inmates ran out into the storm, shrieking for help from their indifferent gods.
“The damage done by this typhoon was reckoned to be 9 vessels totally lost, viz., 2 barques, 1 ship, 1 brig, 4 schooners, and H. M. cutter Louisa.
“That historic little cutter, the Louisa, which had a peculiar knack of finding herself in the thick of everything, was wrecked in this typhoon.
“Both the Plenipotentiaries – Captain Elliot and Sir Gordon Bremer – were on board of her and barely escaped with their lives. They were on their way across from Macao. Soon after sunset of the 20th, it being calm and the tide against them, it was decided to anchor about 3 miles S. E. of the S. W. point of Lantao.
“Finding they were drifting down to Tchow, Captain Elliot ordered the cable to be slipped and a shred of the mainmast set. It was in the strain and stress of raising the head of the mainsail, with every wave sweeping the cutter from stem to stern, that her commander was knocked overboard by the boom and drowned.
“Captain Elliot at once took the helm and succeeded in steering the Louisa through the middle of the Luna islets, escaping rocks which could only be seen at the very last moment by a hair’s breadth.
“However, when the island of Myloo appeared right ahead, it was seen that the only chance was to anchor; but they were already in breaking water and no anchor could hold in such heavy surf, so that in a very short time the Louisa had bilged herself on the rocks and filled.
“In various ways, everyone managed to get ashore, some crawled over the rocks, others swam, and a few were hauled by means of a rope.
“For the rest of the night they crouched in a fissure in the side of the cliff, down which a torrent was pouring. At daylight they were discovered by fishermen who had come down to pillage the wreck. They had hardly bargained to be landed at Macao for 1000 dollars when another lot of fishermen arrived; these last stripped them of all their clothing including a star of the Hanoverian Guelphic Order.
“By this time bodies of dead Chinamen, some lashed to spars, some horribly lacerated, were being washed up on the shore, and for a time black looks were turned upon the Europeans as if they were the cause of the typhoon.
“Luckily Captain Elliot happened to know two of the fishermen, and with them he bargained for the shipwrecked crew to be taken to Macao for 3,000 dollars. But their trials were not over.
“On their way they were hailed by an armed mandarin boat, looking for wrecks. Luckily the fishermen had made Captain Elliot, Sir Gordon Bremer, Lord Amelius Beauclerk and one other hide in the bottom of the boat under the floor mats, for there was a reward of 50,000 dollars offered for either Plenipotentiary alive and 30,000 dollars dead. But the fishermen remained staunch; and presently Captain Elliot stepped ashore at Macao clad in a pair of striped trousers and a monkey jacket without a shirt, the commodore being even further disguised in a blue worsted frock.
“In this plight they were recognised by the Portuguese officer of the guard, who would have liked, but tactfully refrained, from turning out the guard in their honour.”
This typhoon was followed by a second, five days later. Starting at five o’clock in the morning, the storm went on increasing in violence until 10.00 a. m. and the barometer fell from 29.34 to 28.94. Further heavy damage was done at sea and shore, and one historian went so far as to state that “the last days of Hongkong seemed to be approaching”. The damage of the two typhoons was still being repaired when a conflagration broke out among the matsheds and huts forming the commercial and residential district of the Chinese (12th August 1841), and destroyed almost all the frail structures.
To make matters worse for the new British colony, the Canton authorities continued to cause trouble. They had, in earlier days, drawn perquisites from the foreign trade of Canton, and the setting up of a free trade policy in Hongkong, over which the Chinese had no control, meant that the profits of office in Canton had practically disappeared. It is not surprising, therefore, that they did all they could devise to harass the infant colony of Hongkong. Rewards were offered by them not only for the high British officials mentioned by Lubbock in the quotation above, but for any other “red-headed devil” seized and delivered to the Chinese authorities.
Macao continued to extend a friendly welcome to all who sought a haven from danger, and its sanctuary was availed of then, as it had been availed of in earlier days and has been on more than one occasion since; often it has been given in Portuguese homes. This hospitality has not been confined to Europeans only. It has proved, in a very real sense, a bond of friendship with the Chinese, too, from the earliest days of the little colony’s existence, and continues to the present time.
In the early stages of the existence of Hongkong as a British colony, there was a sense of rivalry it is true between the old colony of Macao and the young township of Hongkong, yet, although the Portuguese realised that in Hongkong the British were steadily building up a trading centre that would some day overshadow Macao, a feeling of intimacy, and even of friendship, continued between the colonists of the two European countries, born in all probability of hardships endured and dangers faced together in Macao during the troubled years before peace between Britain and China was restored. It is significant that that friendship – marred at times by thoughtless actions on the part of irresponsible, impetuous individuals, or sectarian enthusiasm shown by some misguided visitor – has endured through all these years. Official relations between the representatives of the Governments of the neighbouring colonies have been maintained on a most cordial basis, engendered by the mutual understanding and respect existing for centuries between Great Britain and Portugal. It would be well for succeeding generations to recall the good fellowship of the past and to remember that the Portuguese have never failed their friends in adversity.
On the 29th July, 1841, information reached Captain Elliot that the British Government had expressed disapproval of the Chuenpi Convention, and had appointed Sir Henry Pottinger to succeed him as British Plenipotentiary in China. Twelve days later Sir Henry Pottinger arrived at Macao, and Elliot surrendered his office to the new Plenipotentiary. A feeble attempt to preserve Elliot’s name in Hongkong was made when what is now known as “Glenealy” was first named “Elliot’s Vale”; but even that poor recognition was ungraciously withdrawn by an official of a later generation. The spot which at one time bore Elliot’s name is a beautiful hollow, or glen, through which runs a road with a profusion of tropical verdure on both sides, descending from Conduit Road at the entrance of the late Sir Paul Chater’s house – “Marble Hall” – to Queen’s Road at its junction with Wyndham Street.
With the departure from Macao for England, on the 24th August, 1841, of Captain Charles Elliot, R. N., on board H. M. S. Atlanta, let me bring this Chapter to a close; and, incidentally, let the curtain drop on the eventful career in China of a British official of rare intellect and gifted with the ability and resolution to steer a safe course for British honour through the most stormy period in the whole history of Anglo-Chinese relations.
When the sails of the Atlanta had filled to the breeze and the stately ship got under way on her long voyage homeward bound, the Portuguese accorded the usual honours due to the high rank of Captain Elliot with a salute of thirteen guns fired from the Monte Fort. It was a fitting “farewell”. Though his countrymen failed to recognise his worth, Elliot left the shores of Macao bearing the good-will of the Portuguese colonists, from whom he had earned sentiments of high respect and esteem. The warm send-off he was given from Macao was not the “bowed-out-of-Macao” gesture which Eitel so sarcastically calls it in his book Europe in China. The Macao Government’s procedure was the customary and correct one, in accordance with International usage, and there was no reason why it should have been otherwise. Governor Silveira Pinto directed the adoption of the most courteous proceedings in the departure ceremony, in keeping with the dignity of Captain Elliot’s position and in token of respect from the representative of the Portuguese Government to a distinguished colleague of a friendly government.