(Ulrike - Hillemann) - Asian Empire and British Knowledge

Cambridge Imperial and Post-Colonial Studies Series
General Editors: Megan Vaughan, Kings’ College, Cambridge and Richard

Drayton, Corpus Christi College, Cambridge
This informative series covers the broad span of modern imperial history while
also exploring the recent developments in former colonial states where residues
of empire can still be found. The books provide in-depth examinations of empires
as competing and complementary power structures encouraging the reader to
reconsider their understanding of international and world history during recent
centuries.
Titles include
Sunil S. Amrith
DECOLONIZING INTERNATIONAL HEALTH
India and Southeast Asia, 1930–65
Tony Ballantyne
ORIENTALISM AND RACE
Aryanism in the British Empire
Robert J. Blyth
THE EMPIRE OF THE RAJ
Eastern Africa and the Middle East, 1858–1947
Roy Bridges (editor)
IMPERIALISM, DECOLONIZATION AND AFRICA
Studies Presented to John Hargreaves
L. J. Butler
COPPER EMPIRE
Mining and the Colonial State in Northern Rhodesia, c.1930–64
Hilary M. Carey (editor)
EMPIRES OF RELIGION
T. J. Cribb (editor)
IMAGINED COMMONWEALTH
Cambridge Essays on Commonwealth and International Literature in English
Michael S. Dodson
ORIENTALISM, EMPIRE AND NATIONAL CULTURE
India, 1770–1880
Ulrike Hillemann
ASIAN EMPIRE AND BRITISH KNOWLEDGE
China and the Networks of British Imperial Expansion
B. D. Hopkins
THE MAKING OF MODERN AFGHANISTAN
Ronald Hyam
BRITAIN’S IMPERIAL CENTURY, 1815–1914
A Study of Empire and Expansion, 3rd edn
Robin Jeffrey
POLITICS, WOMEN AND WELL-BEING
How Kerala Became a ‘Model’
Gerold Krozewski
MONEY AND THE END OF EMPIRE
British International Economic Policy and the Colonies, 1947–58
Sloan Mahone and Megan Vaughan (editors)
PSYCHIATRY AND EMPIRE
Javed Majeed
AUTOBIOGRAPHY, TRAVEL AND POST-NATIONAL IDENTITY
Francine McKenzie
REDEFINING THE BONDS OF COMMONWEALTH 1939–1948
The Politics of Preference
Gabriel Paquette
ENLIGHTENMENT, GOVERNANCE AND REFORM IN SPAIN
AND ITS EMPIRE 1759–1808
Jennifer Regan-Lefebvre
IRISH AND INDIAN
The Cosmopolitan Politics of Alfred Webb
John Singleton and Paul Robertson
ECONOMIC RELATIONS BETWEEN BRITAIN AND AUSTRALASIA 1945–1970
Kim A. Wagner (editor)
THUGGEE
Banditry and the British in Early Nineteenth-Century India
Jon E. Wilson
THE DOMINATION OF STRANGERS
Modern Governance in Eastern India, 1780–1835
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Customer Services Department, Macmillan Distribution Ltd, Houndmills,
Basingstoke, Hampshire RG21 6XS, England
Asian Empire and British
Knowledge
China and the Networks of British
Imperial Expansion
Ulrike Hillemann
Imperial College, London
© Ulrike Hillemann-Delaney 2009
All rights reserved. No reproduction, copy or transmission of this
publication may be made without written permission.
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permitting limited copying issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency,
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may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
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as the author of this work in accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act 1988.
First published 2009 by
PALGRAVE MACMILLAN
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Printed and bound in Great Britain by
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For my parents and Richard
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Contents
Acknowledgements viii
List of Abbreviations x
1 Introduction 1
1.1 Britain and China – an overview 3
1.2 Methodological considerations 8
2 The Decline of Mythical China 16
2.1 The origin of language 17
2.2 Chinese style and British taste 21
2.3 A Chinese court at Brighton 27
3 At the China Coast 34
3.1 A diplomatic expedition 34
3.2 Chinese law and British rights 45
3.3 The unreliable interpreter 56
3.4 A barren land 64
3.5 Diplomacy and local knowledge 75
3.6 Trade and identity 81
3.7 British honour and opium 91
4 South and Southeast Asian Encounters 106
4.1 China’s neighbour 107
4.2 Chinese subjects for the empire 120
4.3 Co-operator and corruptor 130
4.4 British rule, Chinese societies 135
4.5 Educating the Chinese diaspora 141
5 Asian Networks and the British Isles 150
5.1 British Sinology 152
5.2 Saving China 168
5.3 Forces of free trade 171
6 Epilogue 188
Notes 193
Bibliography 236
Index 254
vii
Acknowledgements
I am grateful to the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the

Cambridge European Trust, who made this work possible with their
financial support. The History Faculty Trust and the St. Edmund’s Col-
lege Tutorial award contributed to financing the travels to archives in
London. I would also like to thank the staff at the Cambridge Univer-
sity Library, the British Library, the SOAS Archive, the Public Record
Office and the Archive of the Baptist missionary society at the Angus
Library Oxford who were always helpful and friendly. I am also grateful
to the Bavarian State Library for granting permission for use of the cover
illustration.
This book is the result of a journey, which took me from Munich
to Edinburgh and then to Cambridge. While I was an undergraduate
at Munich, Eckhart Hellmuth introduced me to the fascinating world
of 18th century British history. This interest was deepened by the
teaching of Harry Dickinson and Nicholas Phillipson in Edinburgh.
Cambridge opened new perspectives, especially on the history of the
Extra-European world.
The person who most influenced the shape of this work and the
development of my understanding of history over the last years was, of
course, my supervisor, Richard Drayton and I thank him for his patient
guidance and unwavering support.
Several people helped me by sharing their knowledge and advice:
Chris Bayly, as well as Tim Harper, Peter Kornicki and Hans Van de Veen.
Michael Dodson provided many useful ideas in the early stages of this
work. Sunil Amrith, Felix Böcking, Christina Granroth, Emma Hunter,
Florian Schui and Tobias Wolfhart read parts of the text and pointed out
the inconsistencies. Matthias Georgi and Georg Vogeler have listened
and discussed this study from its very beginning and even took the pains
of reading through the entire work at the end. Ruth Cassidy also helped
me to avoid some of the traps of the English language. Needless to say
the blame for all the remaining errors lies with me.
My greatest thanks go to my parents, who, without questioning,
helped to finance this work. In addition, my father provided tireless
computer support, which was truly invaluable, particularly in the last
viii
Acknowledgements ix
months. My greatest debt is to my husband Richard Delaney. Not only

did he still pretend to find the topic interesting after all these years, he
also read all the drafts to prevent the worst grammatical mistakes. With-
out his constant loving support and encouragement I could not have
finished this work.
List of Abbreviations
BFBS British and Foreign Bible Society

BL British Library, London
BMS Archive of the Baptist Missionary Society, Angus Library,
Oxford
CFR Canton Factory Records, APAC, BL
CWM Christian World Mission, SOAS
EIC East India Company
LMS London Missionary Society
Mss Manuscript
APAC Asia, Pacific and Africa Collections, British Library, London
PRO Public Record Office, London
SOAS School of Oriental and Asian Studies, London
VOC Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie
x
1
Introduction
China had long enjoyed a mythical place as a prestigious civilisation

at the edge of European experience. At the turn of the 18th to the 19th
century, China was considered an obstacle to the development of Britain
and was also viewed as inhibiting the progress of its own inhabitants,
degenerating under a corrupt and arbitrary government. From being
regarded as the domain of an ideal monarch and the origin of high qual-
ity products, it was now seen as a country that was militarily weak, ruled
by an irrational tyrant, incapable of progress and culturally decayed.
During this period before the Opium War in 1840, China had become
a key focus of British commercial and missionary interests, partly as
a result of British activity in India and Southeast Asia. As merchant
and missionary interest in this great potential market of goods, con-
sumers and souls increased, pressure mounted to acquire knowledge
about China. Yet, this demand for knowledge could not be satisfied
easily. China’s Qing dynasty would not allow European traders and mis-
sionaries to enter China. These twin forces of the will to knowledge
yet the inability to satisfy that desire make China a particularly inter-
esting case for the study of knowledge formation during this period of
British imperial expansion and help to explain the marked deterioration
of attitudes towards China.
The starting point for this book is the diversity of British ideas of
China in the different areas of contact between the British, the Chinese
and the two empires. Neither in 1763 nor in 1840 was there one single
‘idea of China’, formed and changed only in the British Isles. The book
therefore focuses on certain ‘contact zones’ in the system of British inter-
est in the East to understand how the networks of imperial expansion
shaped diverse British imaginations of China. It traces how these imagi-
nations formed and were formed by the British search for new legitimate
1
2 Asian Empire and British Knowledge
and systematic knowledge about China. Here, India and Southeast Asia
could be as important as Canton and the British Isles. At the Bengal bor-
der, China could be considered a mighty power and potential rival of
Britain. Intelligence gathering about this unknown but potentially dan-
gerous power was therefore one of the major impulses for knowledge
formation in this area. In Southeast Asia, however, the Chinese were
increasingly seen as exemplary subjects for the British Empire and in
British eyes knowledge about Chinese law, language and racial features
became key to successfully ruling over them.
This study looks at British groups which had specific interests in Asia,
especially the East India Company (EIC) employees, Protestant mis-
sionaries and free traders. It highlights the way these groups formed
networks that linked the different places of British expansion. Through
these networks, ideas were exchanged and transported between South-
east Asia, Bengal, London and Canton. Concepts and knowledge formed
in one Asian country were considered applicable to other cultures in the
region. Studying these networks, Asian Empire moves beyond the con-
centration on European intellectual history which characterises other
studies of European views of China. It brings India and Southeast Asia
into focus as significant sites of British–Chinese encounter.
Yet, intellectual changes in Britain itself and their significance for
changing perceptions of Asian cultures cannot be ignored. The book
highlights the complex ways in which, for example, ideas of the scale
of civilisations were influencing and were influenced by the British
imperial expansion. In the years studied, the metropolis itself became
increasingly shaped by the growing Asian empire, the ideas it pro-
voked and the goods that were imported from the East. In particular,
the fashion of Chinoiserie, inspired by silk and porcelain from China,
sparked a controversy in Britain, which had a complex relationship with
ideas coming back from Britain’s imperial expansion in Asia. With the
growing empire in Asia, debates arose in Britain about how the British
should deal with a growing non-white, non-settler dependent popu-
lation. Deeply connected to these anxieties were questions of British
identity, both in the metropolis and the periphery.
To provide the background for the following study, this introduc-
tion first gives a brief narrative of British–Chinese relations from their
beginnings to the Opium War in 1840. It then moves to a discussion
of modern historiography of this relationship and European attitudes
towards China before reflecting on the theoretical and methodological
considerations which give a framework to this book.
Introduction 3
1.1 Britain and China – an overview
The first regular contact with China in the early modern period was
through the Jesuit mission to Beijing. The reports sent back by the Jesuit
missionaries generated the enlightened idea of China. Was the Chinese
language the original language or perhaps a model for a universal lan-
guage? Was the Chinese Emperor a rational and moral ruler and were
its scholar bureaucrats to be imitated? Confucius was viewed as the
Chinese Socrates, a philosopher whose doctrines were based on pure rea-
son, and China the shining example of a society in which reason had
replaced superstitious religion. Chinese chronology was considered to be
an important challenge to the chronology of the Bible and was used to
question its authority. For the French physiocrats, like François Quesnay,
China was the model of a state which recognised that all wealth derived
from the land and followed the physiocratic laws of nature.1 As David
Porter has argued, China was seen as a signifier for representational legit-
imacy, conformity and antiquity, whose traditions and language reached
back into the mists of time.2
The second, almost parallel, encounter with China took place through
the import of consumer goods such as porcelain, silk, lacquers and, of
course, tea. These imports inspired the fashion of ‘Chinoiserie’ during
the baroque and rococo periods, the manufacture of Chinese-style items
for interior design and gardens adorned with Chinese-style pagodas, gar-
den seats and bridges. At the other end of society, in the 18th century,
tea changed from an exotic beverage into a drink for the masses.3 The
enthusiasm for Chinoiserie diminished at the end of the 18th century.
Tea was still in high demand, but it was by then seen as a national drink,
mainly disassociated from its Chinese origin.4
In the 17th century, China gained a place in the English imagination
as a huge market for European goods, as well as possessing almost inex-
haustible stores of tea, silk and porcelain.5 The first commercial contact
between Britain and China began in 1635, but with only limited suc-
cess. At this time, the Portuguese had already established themselves in
Macao and the Dutch were attempting to set up a trade at the coast. It
was only from the middle of the 18th century onwards that the British
were able to get a foot into the China trade.6 In the beginning, the EIC
imported mainly luxury goods to Britain, such as silk and porcelain.
However, it was the tea trade which gave China importance to the EIC.
The amount of tea imported by the EIC into England rose steeply from 2
lb and 2 oz in 1664 to 5,857,882 lb in 1783, and in the 1830s it reached
about 30 million pounds.7 Over the course of the period covered, the
EIC overtook their former rivals and by the time the monopoly of the
EIC ended in 1834, the British dominated the European trade at Canton,
creating substantial returns in taxes for the British government.8 British
products, however, never found as much demand in China as was nec-
essary for a balanced trade and to a large extent, the tea had to be paid
for with silver bullion, and in particular, with Indian opium. The acqui-
sition of the opium monopoly in India made the opium trade to China
crucial for the EIC’s finances.9
Along with the growing trade, what came to be known as ‘the old
Canton system’ was established in the 1750s and 1760s. The Qing
Emperor closed all Chinese harbours to the Europeans in 1757, with
the exception of Canton, and reduced the permitted contact between
European and Chinese merchants to the so-called ‘Hong’ merchants,
who were formed into a monopoly organisation, the Cohong. It was
only in these years that the Company established a more regulated
system for their trade with China, with a General Council of Supercar-
goes, instead of several individual Supercargoes. Furthermore, they were
now allowed to remain in China for the entire year, although due to
Chinese restrictions they were obliged to move to Macao outside the
season.10 It was under these peculiar circumstances that Britons estab-
lished first regular contact with the Chinese. The Protestant mission to
China, which started in 1807, equally took Canton as its first stepping
stone.
Meanwhile, the trade of the EIC in India had turned into a battle
for supremacy with the regional rulers, which resulted in the de facto
British rule of Bengal by 1765. The British thus came to be in control of
products like cotton and later opium, which the Chinese were actually
interested in, and which could be traded for other Southeast Asian prod-
ucts sold at Canton. The British were now able to become a more potent
participant in the Asian trade system. At the same time, they encoun-
tered the problem of remitting the income from the land tax in Bengal
and other gains back to Britain, which was mainly dealt with through
the triangular trade between India, China and Britain.
In this context, what became known as the country trade became pre-
dominant. Attempts by the EIC to dominate the trade between India,
China and Southeast Asia largely failed. Private country traders, mostly
British or Parsee merchants, had managed to secure this trade, especially
with opium. Even though the company grew the opium in India, it did
not want to be associated with its sale to China, which the Chinese
government had prohibited.11
Introduction 5
British relations with China were thus becoming intrinsically linked

to British interests in India.12 British expansion into Southeast Asia
resulted partly from the problems of the China trade and its impor-
tance for the EIC in India. From 1750 onwards, several employees of
the EIC tried to establish a British entrepôt in Southeast Asia, to redirect
trade from Canton. Especially during the Napoleonic Wars, the British
extended their sphere of influence in Southeast Asia, mainly to prevent
the French taking root there. The large Chinese diaspora the British
encountered there was to play an increasingly important role not only
for British reflections on the China trade, but also for the formation of
knowledge about China.
The British government tried to formalise its relationship with China
by way of two diplomatic missions, in 1792 and 1816, although this
met with little success. At the same time, the EIC at Canton developed
a stronger sense of itself as a representative of British national inter-
ests. With the end of the EIC’s monopoly for the China trade in 1834,
this form of company diplomacy ended for good and the Foreign Office
became paramount.
The period between 1834 and 1840 saw a significant increase in publi-
cations about China in Britain. Political consideration in the metropolis
still had to change before it could look expedient to Lord Palmerston to
declare war on China. However, the key positions and the key players
which were to become important in the context of the Opium War were
already in place in the early 1830s. The period from 1763 to 1840 is thus
crucial for understanding British–Chinese relations in the 19th century.
However, most studies look at British relations with China in the early
19th century as little more than a prequel to the Opium War and British–
Chinese relations afterwards.13 Almost all historiographies of the Opium
War discuss the British China trade from the beginning to the war itself,
mostly with an emphasis on the years after 1784. They narrate the his-
tory of growing tensions, from the Lady Hughes affair, regarding the
surrender of a British national to the Chinese justice system, via the first
British embassy to China in 1792 to the end of the EIC monopoly, and
the Napier episode. The idea of a ‘clash of culture’ and the unavoid-
ability of a war to overcome China’s restriction of international trade
or to fulfil the needs of the British government in India are the major
themes in these works.14 The opium trade takes a centre stage in most
of the discussions of the development of British–Chinese relations in
these accounts.15 Michael Greenberg has given a detailed study of the
British trade with China, focusing on the emergence of the country
trade, mainly based on the Jardine and Matheson archives.16
There are a few older studies which did examine the period in its
own right, written in the 1930s, by H. B. Morse and his student,
Earl Pritchard. Morse, in his five volume work on the EIC trade with
China, provided a detailed narrative of the EIC records in regard to
the trade and other occurrences at Canton, mainly based on lengthy
quotes of source material.17 Pritchard defined the early years of British–
Chinese contact as ‘the struggle of culture against culture’, determined
by the insurmountable differences between the Chinese and British
civilisation.18
Louis Dermigny has looked at the European trade in general in Can-
ton between 1719 and 1833. He emphasised the diverging economic
and cultural development of Europe and China during the 18th and
early 19th century. Despite the trade between the two regions, he argues,
no mutual understanding or even significant intellectual exchange took
place. In his view, it was inevitable that the industrially developing and
commercially adventurous Britain would have to clash with the back-
ward China. At the same time, the positive image of China distributed
by the Jesuits gave way to a negative one, inspired by the material-
istic world view of British merchants and the impact of the French
Revolution.19
However, in order to gain a full understanding of what China meant
to the British in this period, and which ideas guided their interaction
with China, it is important to set the actions, concepts and ideas of the
British in Canton in the larger context of the intellectual and cultural
history of Britain and the British Empire. For example, there is hardly
any discussion of the development of British legal thought, ideas on
language and religion or British self-understanding in these studies. Fre-
quently, the lack of a discussion of the intellectual and cultural history
of the British at Canton, while Chinese concepts are explained, creates
the image that the British viewpoints on issues like law and diplomacy
were the only reasonable and rational ones.20 These works also, in their
majority, pay little attention to the metropolitan dimension, a fact to
which Glenn Melancon has recently drawn attention, by closely study-
ing the China policy of the British foreign office in the years from 1833
onwards.21
A number of studies from historians and literary scholars have
explored the position of China in early modern European intellectual
or literary history. However, they do in most cases only lightly touch
on the larger context of European interests in Asia or the question of
power, if it is mentioned at all. Explanations of the shift from an early
sinophile admiration of China towards the arrogant attitude of the early
Introduction 7
19th century have thus mainly looked for causes of the changes in the
development of the European intellectual history.22 It has been assumed
that the diminishing credibility given to the reports of the Catholic
Jesuits also damaged the positive view of China they had advocated.
While British imperial expansion and the parallel Protestant mission are
often mentioned, the complexity of their impact is not explored.23 This
is particularly true for the broad overviews, such as by C. Mackerras,
which cover European images of China from antiquity to the present.24
Furthermore, authors such as William Appelton contend that people
had grown tired of the fashion of ‘Chinoiserie’.25 The actual contact
between China and Britain is in most cases discussed in terms of how
contact with the ‘real’ China, contributed to the unravelling of the pos-
itive myths and finally led to a more objective study of China.26 In
particular, the publication of negative experiences and resulting dismis-
sive opinions by British merchants, naval officers and ambassadors are
highlighted.27
Walter Demel has argued that an increased European self-confidence
in their progress in the field of sciences, welfare of the population and
military strength led to a growing perception of Chinese inferiority in
these areas. Especially the reports about many famines in China at the
end of the 18th century replaced the idea of the fabulous riches of
Cathay. At the same time, the ideal of the enlightened absolutisms, for
which China had served as a model, declined. In the context of ideas
that favoured the restriction of the ruler, China was increasingly con-
sidered as just another Asian despotism.28 Jonathan Spence attributes
the change in Western perceptions to the new source of information:
diplomats and travellers rather than the Jesuits, and their more sceptical
writings, which were informed by the spirit of the age of reason. This
coincided with more negative depictions of China by English writers
such as Daniel Defoe.29
In their book The Great Map of Mankind, Peter Marshall and Glyn-
dwr Williams argue that the image of Asia, and with it that of China,
changed due to the shift within the patterns of thought from the ‘tra-
ditionalist’ view, which tried to incorporate new knowledge into that of
the Bible, to a ‘natural history of man’ that placed each nation on a scale
of civilisations. They have also referred to the effect British expansion in
India had on the European view of Asia, without, however, examining
the problem of China in detail.30
Recently, David Porter produced a literary analysis of philosophical
texts as well as Chinoiserie artefacts in his book Ideographia. He argued
that ‘China’ moves from being a signifier for cultural legitimacy and
stability to one for illegitimacy and interchangeability.31 He gives some

interesting insights into how one could understand the 18th century
debate about Chinoiserie as part of the formation of ideas about China,
but also remains limited by this approach. Norman J. Girardot has
offered a very valuable in-depth study of sinology and Orientalism in
the later 19th century in his biography of the missionary and sinologist
James Legge. However, due to his focus on Legge, he takes little notice
of the influence of earlier British studies of China and the way they were
already connected with the British expansion.32
The aim of this book is therefore to bring the focus back on a period
that was formative for both British–Chinese relations and deeply linked
to it, the formation of British knowledge of China and to reconnect it
to the European expansion in Asia in this period.
1.2 Methodological considerations
The latest wave of globalisation has brought with it a new focus by his-
torians on how practices and ideas in different parts of the globe were
connected and how these were transferred between them, in an attempt
to break up the old national narratives.
Chris Bayly has recently highlighted the global connections, exchan-
ges and mutual influences that already shaped the world from the 1780s
onwards, long before today’s globalisation.33 Tim Harper has drawn
attention to the global connections of non-European people in the 19th
century, which was based on networks that pre-dated much of Euro-
pean imperialism.34 The ‘new’ imperial history, which has re-invigorated
imperial history since the 1990s, focuses on understanding the influ-
ence of the imperial expansion on identity and other cultural concepts,
such as gender and race, in both the ‘periphery’ and the ‘metropolis’,
thus re-adjusting our understanding of what constituted the centre or
the periphery for those caught in the webs of imperial expansion.35
Historians are therefore increasingly discussing the interconnectedness
of the different colonies and the metropolis and the transfer of goods
and knowledge between them. These works mainly concentrate on
the modification of ideas within the framework of the British Empire,
often neglecting the interaction with other empires or national cul-
tures. The focus lies on tracing how the British in the colonies did
not only use concepts which they had imported from the metropo-
lis, but also learned from other parts of the British Empire as well as
transferring new concepts back to the metropolis.36 These historians
Introduction 9
explore how the ‘British colonial discourses were made and remade,
rather than simply transferred or imposed’ through these networks.37
Ideas about the governance of colonial people as well as ideas of what
constituted the colonial ‘Other’ had different expressions in the vari-
ous parts of the Empire.38 ‘Imperial Careers’, through which Britons and
other subjects of the British Empire moved between colonies, brought
with them the movement of ideas across the British Empire. As the
contributors to David Lambert’s and Alan Lester’s volume on ‘Colo-
nial Lives’ have recently shown, discourse of colonial governmentality
was formed and re-shaped through the mobility of governors between
different colonies.39 Representations of Irish and Scots could thus, for
example, serve as patterns for images of ‘savages’ in the new colonies
in America, which in turn served as models for conceptualising other
‘discovered’ peoples.40 Thomas R. Metcalf has recently highlighted how
India took a prominent position in this web of Empire in the late 19th
and early 20th century, creating an Indian-centred sub-system to the
British Empire. While he focuses on the period between 1870 and 1920,
this book shows that India was already central to how the British formed
their Asian Empire from the 1760s onwards, not just in terms of eco-
nomic and military logistics, but in particular also with regard to the
ideas and concepts that shaped this expansion.41 At the same time,
as Catherine Hall has shown, the definition of ‘colonial subjects’ and
British experience in the periphery were influential in shaping English
and British identity itself, in the metropolis as well as in the colonies.42
Ann Stoler and Frederick Cooper have highlighted the tensions between
the universalising claims of European ideology in the 19th and 20th
century and the heterogeneous and localised experience of conquest
and colonial rule, thus drawing attention to global concepts and local
transformation processes and transfers.43
For the continental European context, several scholars have tried
to develop alternatives to a ‘comparative history’, which took nations
as self-contained units. They emphasise the exchange and transfer of
ideas between different nations, such as France and Germany.44 Michael
Werner and Bénédicte Zimmermann have developed the concept of
a ‘histoire croisée’, which draws attention to the process and nature
of the international exchange of concepts and ideas. In emphasising
the continuous ‘entanglement’ of this process, they try to overcome
the idea of a fixed starting point and end of a transfer of ideas. They
also problematise the use of national categories in studies of transfer,
offering a perspective on the often hybrid origin of concepts and the
role of migrants in transferring ideas from one community to another.

These travellers often modify ideas when they transfer them, and maybe
re-import a concept significantly changed by their experience outside
their country.45
In reflecting upon European study of Chinese culture and language
and the problem of translation, Haun Saussy has pointed out how global
information networks have to be seen not as a simple one-directional
process, through which fixed knowledge, words and concepts are trans-
ported and might clash in mutual misunderstanding. Rather, one has
to view translations between two languages and cultures as a creative
process of negotiations, through which a meaning is transferred and
modified.46
Many of these studies were influenced by the debate that followed
Edward Said’s book Orientalism and its understanding of the relation-
ship between representation and imperial power.47 These questions have
only briefly been touched upon by a number of scholars with respect
to China. Norman Girardot made the case for different ‘Orientalisms’,
especially a sinological Orientalism.48 Hans Hägerdal argued that ‘Ori-
entalism’ could have different aspects in the context of China, but also
how ideas about China could be influenced by intellectual traditions
unconnected to ‘Orientalism’.49 David Martin Jones in his study of the
place of China in European social and political thought from the time
of the Jesuit mission until the present tries to show that there was a far
more complex view of China than the critique of Said and his followers
suggest. Specifically he argues that China was not simply included in an
overall ‘Orient’ but seen as different from other Asian countries in many
aspects. Although he argues against the simplistic connection between
the orientalistic scholarship and poetry and colonial expansion of the
West, his study concentrates purely on the history of ideas in Europe and
does not even discuss the political and economic context in which these
ideas developed. Significantly he fails, for example, to address the con-
nection between the study of Chinese and the British interests in Asia.50
Challenging the easy connection between Eurocentric discourse and
colonial power, Eugene Irschick has emphasised the dialogic process
of the construction of knowledge in the colonial context, while still
being aware of the violence involved in the colonial encounter.51 Homi
Bhabha has drawn attention to the ambivalence and uncertainty of the
colonial discourse.52 Chris Bayly has argued, in sharp contrast to many
who followed Said’s ideas, that British rule in India depended heavily
on, and was limited by the access to local information networks as well
as the possibility of correctly understanding this information, rather
Introduction 11
than a mere imposition of a European discourse on India, which aimed

at constructing the Indians as ‘the Other’.53 Partly influenced by this
argument, two recent studies have rightly called for more focus on the
social conditions of knowledge and its use in order to move beyond
the binary of ‘colonial discourse’ and ‘objective knowledge’. Christian
Windler, in his study of French consuls in Algiers has urged to study
which social purposes the ‘oriental discourse’ was used for by those
who had contact with the ‘Other’ and through which social practices
these ideas turned into what was perceived as verified knowledge, espe-
cially in contact with their home country. At the same time, the actual
interaction could be dominated by norms different to this discourse.54
Michael Dodson has recently called for a move away from a mere epis-
temology of knowledge in the colonial context, towards understanding
it as a source of social and political power for a variety of actors in this
context.55
These considerations allow us to take a fresh approach to the forma-
tion of knowledge and ideas about China in the period of Britain’s Asian
expansion. Central to this is exploring how a multitude of discourses
and their local contexts combined to shape what Britons considered to
be ‘China’. Bruno Latour’s network theory can be a useful framework
for this. Latour argues, with focus on the social sciences, that one has to
study the networks which construct an object of study and the mech-
anism of associations, which form groups. He has called for a study
of these connections and the process of association, rather than try-
ing to impose a macro-structure as an explanation model on any given
study. To him, ‘society’ and ‘social explanations’ are thus not given enti-
ties, but have to be understood as formed through connections, and
constantly transformed in the process by the actors.56 These reflections
are especially valuable for an understanding of the diversity of connec-
tions and associations which formed what contemporaries understood
as the British expansion and the British Empire, rather than taking these
concepts as a given entity.
To draw attention to the local transformation processes, this work uses
Mary Louise Pratt’s concept of the ‘contact zone’ as a lens to bring into
focus the different kinds of British cultural interactions with China, and
the different networks through which ideas of China were transferred.57
Pratt employed this term to describe ‘copresence, interaction, interlock-
ing understandings and practices, often within radically asymmetrical
relations of power’,58 at what she calls the ‘imperial frontier’. However,
the contact zones I will describe in this work will only occasionally lie
in a colonial context. Although there was frequently an asymmetrical
power relation, this did not always mean that the British were the
ones who dominated the situation. There was a rather more ambiva-
lent relation between the British meanings of China, the creation of
knowledge and the exercise of power. Often the British had to come to
terms with the gap between their self-image, their image of China and
the power relations on the spot. Also, the British were never a homoge-
nous group, but rather made up of a network of persons with diverging
and shifting interests.
This book also understands Britain itself as a zone of contact with
the foreign, even though this was less immediate than in Canton for
instance. The contact here rather took place in the form of goods and
information brought back to Great Britain as well as those Britons
returned from Asia. Nevertheless, as a result, Britain constituted a promi-
nent site for the construction of the meanings of China and the way it
was connected to the meanings of other countries. Here, a discourse of
the ‘Other’ could be used without the complications of a response from
the other culture. In Britain, knowledge of China was verified and inte-
grated into a system of knowledge of the world and it was determined
what meaning China held for the wider British public.
While this work examines the way the British came to terms with
China in the different ‘contact zones’, it does not understand them as
isolated but rather as connected entities, influencing each other through
the travellers going back and forth between them as well as their let-
ters and journals. In each ‘contact zone’, however, the meaning would
be changed by the reaction of those the British encountered and their
versions of China. The British discourses were never unchallenged and
often enough the British tried without success to force their idea of
‘China’ and ‘Britishness’ upon the Chinese. The ‘Orientalist’ discourse
employed by the British should also not distract one from the fact that
the British often developed a close relationship with the Chinese, be
it in Canton or in Southeast Asia, forming the information networks
they needed to create their knowledge of China, and dealing with the
Overseas Chinese population in Southeast Asia.
In this light, India and Southeast Asia were as important for the forma-
tion of the British knowledge of China as China itself, since the British
had to come to terms with the Chinese position in Asia in these places
as well. Similarly, British experience as a dominant power in India would
also influence their attitude towards China. This does not, however,
mean replacing the idea of the ‘metropolis’ with an artificial centreing
of the periphery. Rather one has to trace carefully the genealogy and
Introduction 13
transfer of concepts and the uses made of them under the distinctively
different conditions of each ‘contact zone’ and their varying importance
for each other, within as well as outside the boundaries of the British
Empire. The study uses the terminology of ‘metropolis’ and ‘periphery’
to describe the fact that for those Britons engaged in the British imperial
expansion in most cases Britain remained the central focus. At the same
time, the concept of the ‘contact zone’ allows us to understand each of
these local places of encounter as centre in their own right, which again
were connected to other centres, such as Beijing, Tibet or Bengal.
While this study focuses on the British–Chinese encounter, it does
not see British history in a vacuum. The British idea of China and the
knowledge they created about it were also influenced in a variety of
ways by the competition with the other great European powers, such
as the French, Dutch, Spanish and Russians, but also by the intellectual
contact with individuals from these countries and also from Germany.
However, there was no indiscriminate ‘European’ idea of China. Rather,
knowledge was transferred between these different cultures, and the
meaning of China was linked to the identity of those involved. In
this context, ‘British’ is not understood as a fixed entity, but rather
as a ‘contested terrain, a “sign of difference” the specific meanings of
which depended upon the context of its articulation’59 being shaped and
reshaped through the contact with others and the shifting intellectual
landscape.
This book examines the themes of language, religion, civilisation
and race, law and trade, which were the main categories of knowledge
through which China was mapped by the British. They are traced in
the different ‘contact zones’, highlighting the transfer of ideas as well
as the different meaning attached to knowledge in these contexts. In
particular, this book focuses on how this knowledge and ideas about the
character of the Chinese were used in power relations with the Chinese
and the Chinese Empire in the different ‘contact zones’.
The first chapter looks at the meaning of China in Britain itself, espe-
cially in the fields of philosophy and aesthetics. During this period,
contemporary intellectual developments, as well as first contacts with
the political and economic entity ‘China’, changed and diversified
British images of China. These were inherently British, mainly con-
nected to other European discourses, but not concerned with Britain’s
relationship with China as such.
The book moves on to discuss the ‘contact zones’ in Asia in which
the British came to encounter the Chinese and the Chinese Empire. The
second chapter studies the ‘contact zone’ in Canton closely, including

the two British embassies to China during this period. The conditions
of this meeting place between Britons and Chinese did not only shape
British knowledge about China, but also the way the British here under-
stood their relationship with the Chinese. This section discusses three
areas which were important for the formation of knowledge about
China: law, language and religion. It draws attention to the extent to
which the British experience in India was important in shaping the
British responses to China in these areas. The last part of the chapter
focuses on a discussion of how the influence of the country traders, the
British experience in India and the failure of the second British embassy
led to an escalation in Canton, during which the EIC tried to force the
Chinese to accept their idea of Britishness and the rules of interaction.
It concludes with a study of the events that led to the Opium War.
The third chapter looks at two different ‘contact zones’ which had
an increasing importance for the way the British assigned meaning to
China: India and Southeast Asia. The first part addresses the way China
was perceived as a great Buddhist power at the fringe of British expan-
sion in India, which was potentially dangerous to British interests in
the region. The question of Chinese religion and language were again
important here, but despite the contact between Calcutta and Can-
ton, were transformed into having a different significance, highlighting
different aspects of Chinese language and religion.
In the period under scrutiny, the ‘contact zone’ in Southeast Asia
became very important for the development of British ideas on China.
Here, the British came into contact with a Chinese population on colo-
nial terms. This chapter explores how this shaped a meaning of the
Chinese as industrious workers, but also as possible competitors. The
influence of the Protestant mission meant that the moral improvement
of the Chinese through education and Christianity came to the fore-
front. It is discussed how the encounter with different groups of overseas
Chinese led to the idea of a more diverse China, in contrast to ear-
lier notions of an extremely uniform culture in China. Ideas such as
the stages of civilisation and early race theory therefore became more
important in this context.
The fourth chapter studies how the meanings and knowledge formed
in the ‘contact zones’ in Canton, India and Southeast Asia were trans-
ferred back to the metropolis itself and how they were transformed to fit
into the cultural and political conditions of the regency period and the
debates about reform. When the debate about the renewal of the EIC’s
charter began in earnest in 1830, all these different sites of knowledge
Introduction 15
production about China became significant. The final part of the chapter
analyses how the different parties in the debates of the 1830s and in the
run up to the Opium War used the knowledge created in the ‘contact
zones’ in Asia and shaped ideas of China that suited their interests and
in the end made a war with China imaginable.
2
The Decline of Mythical China
China had long occupied European imagination as a faraway, myste-

rious country. The Romans had marvelled about the fantastic region
from where they imported silk and Marco Polo brought rumours about
Cathay’s fabulous riches back to medieval Europe. However, a new way
of thinking about China began with the Jesuit mission to China in the
middle of the 16th century.1 The Portuguese, and later the French and
German Jesuit monks followed the Portuguese and French traders to the
East and for the first time sent detailed reports back to Europe. Their
translations of Chinese culture created a new idea of China,2 which
would play a significant role in debates about ideas, language, govern-
ment and religion of the enlightenment. These debates placed China
mainly in the philosophical realm, alongside ancient Greece and Egypt.
In doing so, the European literati created their own Europeanised vision
of China.
A similar process took place with regard to the consumer products
which the increasing trade with China brought to European shores, and
which gave rise to the European fashion of Chinoiserie. Both of those
aspects of early modern contact with China will be discussed in this
chapter. They shaped the image of China in Britain significantly. How-
ever, this process mainly took place within a European network and
created an idea of China as a far away, mystical country rather than
a real political entity. Developments in the European history of ideas
transformed the resulting images of China and from the 1750s onwards
a slow change can be noticed in Britain that brought China into closer
connection with India and British interests in the East.
16
The Decline of Mythical China 17
2.1 The origin of language
The reports emanating from the Jesuit mission in Beijing had provided
Europe with a continuous flow of information about China since the
17th century. The Jesuit principle of accommodation, as well as their
need to defend this approach to converting China resulted in very pos-
itive representations of China. Enlightenment thinkers such as Leibniz
and Voltaire were inspired by these accounts to create an image of China
as a rational, enlightened state.3
By the second half of the 18th century, this enthusiasm had receded
and the critics became more dominant. Moreover, The Rites Contro-
versy at the beginning of the century and finally the abolition of the
Jesuit order in 1773 deprived China of their most favourable advo-
cates. Sinophilia had never been that dominant amongst the literati
in Britain, and the suspicion about the reports from Catholic priests
grew. In addition to this, changes in the intellectual climate and epis-
temological standards made the Jesuit reports appear increasingly less
reliable. In the second half of the 18th century, the study of Asia
changed from the framework of the ‘traditionalists’, to a ‘natural history
of man’. The former had tried to incorporate information produced by
the European ‘discoveries’ into the knowledge created by the Bible and
the classical authors. The latter was more concerned with the progress of
mankind and tried to identify different stages through which mankind
had evolved, by observing contemporary societies. In this context, the
Jesuit accounts of China were considered to be increasingly untrustwor-
thy and many members of Britain’s intellectual elite saw the need for
new knowledge about China.4
Despite this perceived lack of knowledge, China still figured in British
philosophical debates of the second half of the 18th century. The Jesuit
letters were still used as a source of information, although the interpre-
tation of them changed. It was subordinated to the idea of progress, so
dominant in the Scottish enlightenment, and the attempt to order the
world according to a stadial theory. What had made China so fascinat-
ing to Leibniz and other enlightenment thinkers, namely its antiquity
and its system of writing, now made it prone to the disdain of the literati
of this period.
China could thus stand for example as a prototype for the agricul-
tural society in Adam Smith’s ‘Wealth of nations’. Even though he still
acknowledged its status as a civilised society, it had not been able to
reach the highest level – that of a commercial society. He thought this
was due to the Chinese neglect of foreign trade, which resulted from
their huge internal market. Only by way of a substantial extension of

their foreign trade could the Chinese hope to learn from other nations
and improve themselves.5 There was no longer the idea that the Euro-
peans might learn from the Chinese, but rather an emphasis on China’s
lack of progression. However, this did not mean that the British, at
a time where agricultural ‘improvement’ figured increasingly on the
political agenda,6 could not admire the seemingly perfect agriculture
of China and the dominant position accorded to it by the Emperor.
Lord Kames, urging British gentlemen to occupy themselves with farm-
ing evoked the image of the Chinese Emperor, ‘who performs yearly the
ceremony of holding the plough, to show that no man is above being a
farmer’.7
The Chinese language, especially, had long fascinated European
minds. Developments of ideas about the Chinese language in the
18th century were strongly connected with the Enlightenment idea of
progress.8 The first accounts of the Chinese language to reach Europe
in the late 16th and early 17th century excited great interest amongst
scholars and philosophers. What were considered to be the character-
istics of the Chinese language – its emphasis on the written language,
its antiquity and its potential to be understood by members of different
linguistic communities – made it the perfect example for those looking
for a common and uncorrupted language in a Europe divided by war
and religious conflicts. Some, like John Webster, also assumed that the
Chinese characters might have a more direct relation to ‘things’ them-
selves and thereby could convey a better understanding of the natural
world and help in the discovery of the ‘real knowledge’ of it. Never-
theless even early on some, like John Wilkins, denied that the Chinese
characters had this quality.9
In the mid 18th century, the Chinese language irrevocably lost its
special status, where it was viewed as a legitimating and stabilising sym-
bol. This was caused by changes within the intellectual framework of
the literati referred to above as well as possibly being influenced by the
association of everything Chinese with the superficial Chinoiserie.10 At
the same time as these changes came the speculations about the origin
of all the arts and sciences in Egypt.
While the search for an universal language did not die completely, the
study of languages in the 18th century was more strongly influenced by
the question of the origins of language,11 and Chinese became incor-
porated into this quest. Here, two opposing concepts prevailed, both
of which had their roots in the 17th century. The one is exemplified
by Descartes, who argued in favour of dualism of spirit and matter.
He claimed that language produced by the body only communicated
ideas of the immaterial soul without influencing them. In the 18th

century, Locke became the greatest counterpart to Descartes’s theory
of language. In his Essay Concerning Human Understanding, he argued
against the Cartesisian assumption that all ideas derive from sensation
and reflection, implying that there were no a priori ideas.12 Develop-
ing these considerations further, Condillac related the progress of the
Copyright material from www.palgraveconnect.com - licensed to University of MN Twin Cities - PalgraveConnect - 2011-04-22
human mind to the development of language and thereby introduced
the dimension of time into the study of language.13
As the dichotomy between the positions concerning the possibility of
immaterial ideas continued throughout the 18th century, the dimension
of time became increasingly important. Even opponents of empiricist
ideas like James Harris agreed that languages developed over time and
stood in correlation to the political system of a people. Languages there-
fore could provide information about the character and culture of a
nation.14 The main focus of the study of language had shifted from
the search for a unifying language, a successor of the original language
that had existed before the confusion of languages at Babel, towards the
quest for the origin of language and its progress, thus linking the study
of language with the developing stadial theory.15 Now, the literati tried
to find connections between languages, in order to determine the level
of progress and character of a language and the people that spoke it.
Chinese was no longer of interest as a model of a universal language,
uncorrupted over ages and protected by an enlightened government. It
had to be placed within the story of the origin and progress of language,
which would also reveal the character of the Chinese nation. The stabil-
ity that had formerly led to it being perceived as the ideal of society, was
now seen as proof for the non-creativity of its people.
As early as 1738, William Warburton had claimed in the Divine Lega-
tion of Moses that hieroglyphic as well as alphabetical writing was an
invention of the Egyptians. In contrast to them, the Chinese, according
to Warburton, were ‘known to be the least inventive people upon earth;
and not much given to mystery’.16 This juxtaposition of Chinese writing
and Egyptian hieroglyphics was taken further by Thomas Percy in his
Miscellaneous Pieces Relating to the Chinese, who similarly to Warburton
argued for the higher antiquity of the Egyptian culture in order to prove
that the chronology of the Bible was accurate. For him however this
meant that the Chinese could not have invented writing at all but must
have received it from the Egyptians. He held the opinion that Egyptian
hieroglyphics had arrived in China as a result of trade between the two
nations.17
About ten years later, the Scottish thinker Lord Monboddo put for-
ward the same idea in his Of the Origin and Progress of Language, making
10.1057/9780230246751 - Asian Empire and British Knowledge, Ulrike Hillemann

a major contribution to the ongoing discussion about the origin of

language. His work displays a continuous tension between ‘conservative
metaphysics’ and a ‘progressive anthropology’.18 He argued that human
beings developed a ‘barbaric’ language on the basis of sensual experi-
ences and due to the need of society, but it was only the ‘art of language’
which made it possible to express, ‘accurately and distinctly all the con-
ceptions of the human mind’. However, not all societies had yet reached
that state of civilisation which enabled them to develop such a language
of art.19 He also firmly believed that these concepts did not derive from
sensation alone, but were a priori ideas, archetypes.20 According to him,
it was the ancient Greeks who had achieved the highest standard of this
artificial language. When compared with this most excellent language,
Chinese was necessarily deficient and inferior, albeit no longer wholly
barbaric: ‘It cannot be called a language of art; nor is it entirely bar-
barous; but it participates of both, and may be said to be an intermediate
stage betwixt the two.’21 He viewed the language as semi-barbarous,
because it made no use of composition, derivation, or flexion. He judged
the Chinese according to a standard which had been set by the Greek
grammar, a typical feature in the early modern study of languages.22
After lengthy considerations on the unsatisfactory development of the
sciences in China, he became convinced that this ‘dull and uninventive
people’ could not possibly have invented the more sophisticated parts
of its language and writing.23 He therefore came to the conclusion that
those must necessarily have been imported to them from the Egyptians,
via India. Monboddo saw another proof for the uninventive character
of the Chinese in the fact that they had obtained their writing from the
Egyptians when it had still been in a very rudimentary state and had not
cared to develop it any further.24
Tracing back the beginning of science and civilisation to the Egyptians
was a popular notion held by the freemasons ever since they came into
being in the 16th century. In the case of Warburton, Percy, Monboddo
and Needham it probably arose mainly from the wish to prove the
chronology of the Bible right. By this they still might, consciously or
not, have joined into a pattern of discourse provided by the adherents of
deism. Percy was delighted by the ‘proofs’ of the Egyptian origin of the
Chinese characters, because ‘it demolishes at once all the pretences of
the Chinese to that vast antiquity, which has been wont to stagger weak
minds, and which has with so much parade been presented by certain
writers as utterly incompatible with the history of the Bible.’25 Consid-
ering that Monboddo attempted decisively to argue against the purely
mechanical and sensualist idea of human language by introducing the
concept of the language of art, it is highly probable that he also tried to

re-establish the Biblical chronology and thereby prove the unity of the
human race.26
China, in any case, could neither continue to serve as a model, nor
could it be seen as the origin of all languages. The change could not have
been greater. From being the nation which could claim the invention of
writing in ancient times, and which might still speak the Adamitic lan-
guage, China was now deemed incapable even of having developed a
system of writing at all. In a time that was no longer preoccupied with
ideas of stability but rather with ideas of progress, the Chinese were seen
as lacking the capability to invent things and to develop. Within this
study of language, Chinese became to be seen not just as stagnant and
an obstacle to progress, but this European perception of it was also seen
as a valid indicator for the state of Chinese culture in general. Moreover,
Chinese antiquity disturbed those who sought to defend Christianity
and the Church from the deists and ‘dangerous’ empiricists. They there-
fore had a vested interest in undermining this claim to antiquity, which
was difficult to align with biblical history. If the Chinese ability to write
post-dated that of the Egyptians, they reasoned, Chinese culture could
not possibly be as old as the Chinese claimed. Rather, it had to post-date
Egyptian culture, which was part of Biblical history.
Up until this time, the study of the Chinese language in Britain was
confined to philosophical discussions. None of the protagonists of the
debate could speak any Chinese nor were they interested in gaining a
better understanding of it. They were not so much concerned with the
study of Chinese and Chinese culture itself but rather used it as an argu-
ment in the search for the origin and development of languages and
civilisations.
2.2 Chinese style and British taste
The reports of the Jesuits from the court of Beijing were hardly the only
goods that were transported back from China. Rather, it was mainly the
growing trade between Europe and China that made this communica-
tion possible. In the 17th and 18th century, this trade was to a large
extent an import trade, supplying Europe with consumer goods such
as porcelain, silk, lacquers and of course tea. These imports inspired
the fashion of ‘Chinoiserie’ during the baroque and rococo periods,
the manufacture of Chinese-style items for interior design, and gardens
adorned with Chinese-style pagodas, garden seats and bridges.
Things, as Arjun Appadurai has noted, have a social life. Their eco-
nomic and social value changes according to specific social and cultural
situations, a process in which the social context of their production,
the knowledge about their appropriate consumption and questions of
authenticity play a significant role.27 As soon as the tea, silk and porce-
lain through which the EIC hoped to transmit its revenues from Bengal
back home left the docks of London they turned from trading goods
into fashion items. In the stores and in the homes of the British, they
joined goods from all over the world, especially coffee and sugar from
the West Indies. The porcelain, while keeping its distinctive Chinese
style most of the time, was already produced in China as an export good
according to the tastes of its European buyers and then set on ‘Chinese
style’ tables and cupboards which were designed by Chippendale and
the Penny brothers. Methods of production for Asian luxury items
such as cotton, silk and porcelain were at the same time reinvented in
Europe in the 18th century, thus stimulating the British manufacturing
industry.28
In 1762, a ‘Chinese visitor’ arrived in London: Lien Chi Altangi.
William Goldsmith’s fictitious citizen of the world was a product of the
Enlightenment’s fashion of clothing criticism of society in exoticism. He
famously mocked the craze for the ‘Chinese style’. Invited to visit a ‘Lady
of taste’, his hostess, delighted by her ‘outlandish’ visitor, asked him to
comment on the Chinese-style pagodas and furniture. Much to her dis-
appointment, however Lien Chi sees them as ‘clumsy and cumbrous’
or fails to recognise them as Chinese at all. Furthermore, he is bewil-
dered by the crowdedness of this ‘Chinese’ interior design. ‘She took
me through several rooms all furnished, as she told me, in the Chinese
manner; sprawling dragons, squatting pagodas, and clumsy Mandarins,
were stuck on every shelf: in turning round, one must have used caution
not to demolish part of the precarious furniture.’29
The trade with China had introduced the foreign into the houses of
Britain, and a meaning of China was created in this sphere of consumer
goods, adaptation, imitation and rococo rebellion against baroque and
classicism. Even though this was not a direct encounter between Britons
and Chinese, the imported goods nevertheless established a ‘contact
zone’, where this supposedly Chinese style could also threaten British
taste and identity.
While tea itself became increasingly ‘British’, the tea services that
accompanied its use were mainly kept in the ‘Chinese style’. The core
element of the fashion of Chinoiserie, which became popular in Britain
in the 18th century for interior design and garden architecture, was its
foreignness and exoticism, despite being produced mainly in Britain or

on the European continent. While there had been earlier examples of
Chinoiserie in England, particularly during the Restoration period,30 it
was only to reach its height from the 1740s onwards, coinciding with
increased imports of tea and porcelain by the EIC. During this period,
numerous furniture and interior designs were fashioned according to
the ‘Chinese style’. While these designs were inspired by the porcelain
and lacquer items imported from China, they were actually invented by
British cabinet makers. They featured pig-tailed little men, Mandarins in
long robes, wizards and exotic birds, playing idly or drinking tea. In the
popular Chinese-style bedrooms and dressing rooms, these were often
combined with tapestries imported from China, which were already
being produced according to the tastes of the European market. The
tapestries and other items were sometimes called ‘Indian’ sometimes
‘Chinese’ and it was not uncommon to see Native Americans depicted
next to a Chinese Mandarin.31 This shows the hybridity of this style,
through which everything that looked foreign might be incorporated
and domesticated as symbols of a delightful, if incomprehensible and
interchangeable ‘Other’ that lent itself to cheerful room decorations,
plays and costumes. Nevertheless, the fashion was clearly generally
associated with China.32 The cabinet-makers, architects and play writ-
ers of Europe, in this period particularly the British ones, had created
their own China. The fashion was first sized upon by the upper classes
of British society. William Chambers built a pagoda in the garden of
Kew for Princess Augusta, and the Duke of Cumberland entertained his
nephew George III on his Chinese yacht.33 To the horror of its classicist
critics, this exotic fashion was highly popular and soon seemed to be
ubiquitous. In 1756, James Cawthorn, in a poem bemoaning the influx
of all sorts of foreign evils into Britain, sarcastically remarked
Of late, ’tis true, quite sick of Rome and Greece

We fetch our models from the wise Chinese;
European artists are too cool and chaste,
For Mand’rin is the only man of taste . . .
On ev’ry shelf a Joss divinely stares,
Nymphs laid on chintzes sprawl upon our chairs;
While o’er our cabinets Confucius nods,
Midst porcelain elephants and China gods.34
‘China’ and ‘Chinese’ had become the objects of consumer desire, thus
giving it a place of importance in British culture, which might equal the
role of China for the British expansion in Asian trade, partly creating the
demand that sustained this role. The meaning China acquired in this
context was quite different from the one it held in the EIC headquarters
in London.
David Porter has recently argued that Chinoiserie with its ‘flow of
unmeaning Eastern signs’ around the middle of the 18th century sub-
stituted the earlier idea of a China that was substantial, knowable and a
place of theological and linguistic legitimacy.35 Altangi’s hostess appre-
ciates her Chinoiserie goods precisely because they are ‘meaningless’ to
her. In Ladies Amusement or, the Whole Art of Japanning Made Easy . . . ,
advice is given to the ladies that
With Indian and Chinese subjects greater Liberties may be taken,

because Luxuriance of Fancy recommends their Productions more
than Propriety, for in them is often seen a Butterfly supporting an
Elephant, or Things equally absurd; yet from their gay Colouring and
airy Disposition seldom fail to please.36
This association with meaningless signs probably made Chinoiserie

desirable for consumers and contributed to a shift in British percep-
tions of China. However, to see this as the main reason for changes
in the intellectual sphere, as Porter does, is somewhat far-fetched. Also,
William Chambers’s curious tracts on Chinese gardening show another
dimension in the use of Chinoiserie. The foreignness of China served to
legitimise an attack on the ‘English’ style of his opponent, ‘Capability’
Brown. In the Preface to his Designs of Chinese Buildings, Chambers dis-
cussed the Chinese art of laying out gardens, which he used to attack
the English landscape garden. While both took nature for their pat-
tern, Chambers argued that the Chinese artfully employed the ‘pleasing,
horrid, and enchanted’ features of nature, thus surprising the visitor,
quite in contrast to the rather dull rolling hills of the English landscape
garden.37 In his second tract, A Dissertation on Oriental Gardening of 1772,
he followed this up by a description of a fantastic Chinese garden, which
is a place of luxury, excitement and sublime extravagances. He evokes
the idea of an oriental splendour, which a European monarch cannot
aspire to reach, but that is worth trying to imitate.38 China here stands
for an exotic, fantastic foreignness that excites the mind and can give
new ideas and impulses to an uninspired British present.39
This influx of foreign ideas, which were a source of entertainment
and fantastic splendour for some, were seen as a danger to a healthy
British state for others. It thus could come in combination with a certain
uneasiness about the extended contact with the foreign which the
British expansion brought with it. In his attack on Chambers’s Disser-
tation, William Mason wrote
His royal mind, whene’er from state withdrawn,

He treads the velvet of his Richmond lawn;
These shall prolong his Asiatic dream,
Tho’ Europe’s balance trembles on its beam.40
For Mason, Chambers’s praise of the Chinese garden with its extrav-
agances stood for yet another example of the corruptness of the Court
and the Tory government and the problematic nature of British interests
in the East.41
The indulgence of the British upper and middle classes in this fash-
ion, so associated with the foreign, was also seen as a danger to
British virtues. For the classicist critics, Chinoiserie stood for everything
that quickened the decay of British society by featuring a foreign and
grotesque false taste, which would lead the observer away from the path
of moral and virtue. The critic Joseph Warton thus remarked
If these observations are rightly founded, what shall we say of the

taste and judgement of those who spend their lives and fortunes in
collecting pieces, where neither perspective nor proportion, nor con-
formity to nature are observed; I mean the extravagant lovers and
purchasers of China, and Indian screens. . . . No genuine beauty is to
be found in whimsical and grotesque figures, the monstrous offspring
of wild imagination, undirected by nature and truth.42
In the 18th century, which highlighted the importance of taste for the
formation of the right character, this criticism was more than a question
of the appropriate interior design; it questioned the very ability of those
who adhered to this ‘grotesque’ style to make correct judgements on
other issues.43
The other most prominent product of China, tea, had attracted simi-
lar criticism around the middle of the 18th century, mainly due to the
economic imbalance it produced for British foreign commerce.44 The
amount of tea imported by the EIC into England rose steeply from 2 lb
and 2 oz in 1664 to 5,857,882 lb in 1783, and in the 1830s, it reached
about 30 million pounds.45 From the 1760s onwards, the trade in tea
and porcelain from China, with its connection to the EIC in India, was
considered to be a good investment. This idea did not only stem from
the European taste for tea but also from the Jesuit reports from Beijing,
which constantly put forward the notion of China’s huge population,46
which to the mind of commercial men would be an ideal market. Up
until then, however, the Europeans had not been successful in selling
anything in large quantities to the Chinese and had had to pay for
tea, silk and porcelain with silver bullion. Although this could still be a
fairly profitable business for the EIC stockholders and the government,47
this practice alarmed those who shared the mercantilist fear that British
treasure disappeared in the East.
This issue had already found its critics in the early years of the 18th
century. Most prominent in this context was Jonas Hanway, who in his
‘Essay on tea’ in 1756 described tea as a beverage which made the British
weak and drained Britain of its substance for life, the silver bullion.48
Hanway was strongly concerned with the moral improvement of the
British people and, as a merchant, with the welfare of British trade.
His criticism of the tea trade echoed bullionist fears as well as worries
about the social implications of the consumption of luxury goods.49 He
also aimed at lower class women, especially wet nurses. He feared that
spending money and time on tea would destroy the economy of their
families and that they would neglect their duties to raise strong men
for Britain. He considered their thirst for tea a dangerous craving for
luxury, which was not suitable for their place in society.50 His assault
on tea can thus be seen to have been a part of his other endeavours to
promote the moral well-being of his fellow Britons, especially the lower
classes.51 David Porter has argued that this criticism was also a sign for
the changed meaning assigned to China, which was no longer identified
with a possible universal language and a stable origin, but rather as the
origin of instability which threatened British welfare.52 Hanway’s argu-
ment is indeed closely linked to the classicistic criticism of Chinoiserie,53
mixed with a strong element of a medical discourse on the dangers of
new exotic goods. He thus writes about how the tea trade, instead of
providing the nation with ‘useful articles of commerce’, ‘consumes our
strength in tea, by which we can possibly make no profit, except upon
ourselves, whilst it sucks up our very blood; and, by exhausting our trea-
sure, weakens the nerves of the state.’54 In contrast to the benefit trade
would normally bring to the island nation Britain, any contact of this
sort with China was highly injurious in his eyes.
Hanway’s attack on the tea trade was an early example of the discourse
on the dangers of Asian trade and empire. After the Seven Years War,
this critique became strongly connected to the idea of the corrupting
influence of the growing British Empire in the East and moved beyond
purely bullionist fears. It culminated in the parliamentary enquiry into

Lord John Clive’s actions in India and the impeachment of Warren
Hastings.55 The link of the China trade to the EIC meant that the
meanings of China came to be influenced by these considerations. For
example, the satirist Peter Pindar was able to use the then widely known
‘Ode to tea’ by the Chinese Emperor Qianlong as a foil for his criti-
cism of the Warren Hastings trial. In his version ‘An ode to coffee’, he
implied that while the wise Chinese Emperor knew how to properly
celebrate the oriental beverage tea, the British only created havoc from
their desire for coffee and other Asian products.56 Pindar’s primary goal
was to attack the government, describing it as even more corrupt than
the Asian princes. However it linked in with Hanway’s earlier criticism
in that it emphasised that the British should leave Asian luxuries to the
Asians, as they were hopelessly corrupting British virtues. China in this
period had thus come to be associated with the dangers of the British
expansionist activities in the East.
For many Britons, tea and Chinoiserie formed the first contact with
China. Robert Southey wrote in 1807, ‘Plates and tea wares have made
us better acquainted with the Chinese than we are with any other dis-
tant people.’57 While it became integrated into the day-to-day life of
Britons, the association with loftiness and almost fairy-tale figures may
have made the political entity of the Qing Empire seem even more
remote. Through the classicistic criticism of Chinoiserie and bullionist
fears of the tea trade, it also acquired the meaning of a source of moral
degeneration, which remained prominent also in the early 19th cen-
tury in the context of Chinoiserie. This did not of course reflect the role
played by art and consumer goods in China and Chinese concepts of
beauty. In this sense, the associations made with China in the context
of the fashion for the Chinese style were a form of aesthetic Orientalism.
Chinoiserie with its ‘grotesque’ forms was considered to be the absolute
other to the classicistic style, with its Roman and Greek models. In con-
trast to tea, it appeared impossible to integrate this into British culture as
an indigenous style and thus it remained linked to the discussion about
the problematic nature of the EIC’s involvement in Asia.
2.3 A Chinese court at Brighton
In his armour room at Carlton House, the Prince Regent kept a life-
size effigy of Tippu Sultan. He had also commissioned paintings of
the epic battle at Mysore.58 The conquest of India by the EIC and the
British military clearly inspired George’s attitudes to Asia. This physical
appropriation of the Indian monarch was however only one material

response to the different nature of British contacts with Asia in this
period.
One of the most famous examples of British Chinoiserie is the Royal
Pavilion in Brighton. As with other examples of Chinoiserie, the build-
ings, furniture and tapestry mainly created the idea of an exotic China
that was a far away and not quite real country. It was this context which
made it a prominent metaphor for criticism of the Prince Regent. How-
ever, the increasing contact with China at the turn of the century also
created a new version of British Chinoiserie.
The first expression of the Prince’s interest of Chinoiserie was the fur-
nishing of one room at Carlton House in the Chinese style in 1792, the
year the first British embassy to China left under the leadership of Lord
Macartney. The Chinoiserie used there was mainly French inspired.59
The association of Chinoise style with leisure and luxury might have
been the main attraction for the Prince, even if it was the embassy that
had drawn his attention to China in the first place. However, when he
decided to redecorate the Pavilion at Brighton ten years later, he opted
for a different, new style of Chinoiserie, which was clearly inspired
by the new contact with China, paying more attention to ‘authentic’
Chinese style. The Prince had acquired the Pavilion in 1783 when it was
still a humble house. He mainly used it to escape from the formal and
strict atmosphere of his father’s court and famously lived there with his
illegitimate Catholic wife, Maria Fitzherbert. During the first years, the
house was transformed in a neo-classical style by Henry Holland. After
1800, the prince turned away from this cool and sober style and towards
a more eclectic and luxurious one. The interior design developed by the
firm of John Crace seems to have tried to develop a new authenticity for
the Chinoise style.60
It was strongly influenced by a new type of images arriving in Britain
from China. Most prominent amongst them was the work of William
Alexander, who had accompanied the Macartney embassy as a drafts-
man. After his return, he published the sketches he had made during
the journey in two books.61 Earlier, a traveller to Canton, George Mason,
had already published two books on Chinese export-paintings.62 In her
essays on William Alexander, Mildred Archer claims that his drawings
had shown the ‘real’ China to the British for the first time, which did
not look like the Chinoiserie and Jesuit dreamland any more.63 However,
these drawings also did not give an objective image of China, partly due
to the choice of the depicted objects, but more particularly due to the
style of the sketching. Rather, William Alexander mixed several sketches
and added Chinoiserie items to produce drawings that more closely fit-
ted the expectations of his audience.64 The pictures therefore were not
very authentic, despite what George Staunton, the second man on the
Macartney embassy, claimed.65
A strand that was even more dominant in the drawings of William
Alexander than Chinoiserie, was the method of ethnographic paint-
ing, which from the middle of the 18th century was influenced by
the natural history paradigm. Late 18th century explorers such as the
members of the Cook expedition had adopted this style of painting as a
method of documenting newly discovered places in a seemingly objec-
tive way.66 One assumed that one could identify and put down on paper
the differences between different groups of people, by attributes such
as costumes or jewellery, and thereby assign them their place in the
system of peoples.67 With descriptive techniques like these, the foreign
was also normalised. The customs and manners of the others, which
were represented in these pictures and the adjoining texts penned by
Europeans were made to seem timeless. They were described as if their
appearance and their actions never changed. In contrast to the observer,
the observed object was thus situated in a different place in time.68
Alexander, in his book ‘Customs of China’ thus mainly depicts types,
such as ‘A Chinese Soldier of Infantry, or Tiger of War’, rather than
individuals. Alexander shows an anonymous Chinese soldier in front
of his military post, wearing a yellow-red-striped uniform with a tiger-
cap, shield and sword. He does not interact with others, but is shown
to the observer in complete isolation as a type. The text on the oppo-
site side places emphasis on its assertion that this kind of clothing and
armament were typical for a soldier of this class.69 The text suggests that
in this way one could recognise a ‘Tiger of War’ everywhere on account
of this dress and these objects.
The character of these ethnographic drawings and descriptions
becomes even clearer if one compares the drawing and the text about
a Chinese fisherman in the ‘Costume of the Chinese’ and a fisherman
in ‘The Costume of Great Britain’, which was published only one year
later by the same publishing house.70 The commentary in the ‘Costume
of Great Britain’ hardly mentions the picture. Rather it narrates the his-
tory of fishing in Great Britain and the importance of this profession
for the nation.71 The picture by Alexander, ‘A Fisherman and his family
regaling in their Boat’ and its description is in stark contrast to this. The
adjoining text describes in detail what can be seen on the drawing: ‘The
female of the group, surrounded by her children, is smoking her pipe.
One of these has a gourd fastened to its shoulders, intended to preserve
it from drowning, in the event of its falling overboard.’72 Then the text
speaks about their sleeping places, the Cormorants, the different fish-
ing methods and the sluice that can be seen in the background.73 This
kind of description emphasised the foreignness of the culture depicted
and therefore the need for the author to explain every single detail to
the viewer in order to make the picture comprehensible. Moreover, the
language is that of a distanced, scientific observer who does not become
personally involved but notes everything he sees objectively. The author
reduces the description purely to the exterior, and the costumes of the
Chinese are represented as timeless, very much in contrast to the text
about Great Britain with its focus on historical development.
George Henry Mason’s book ‘The Costume of China’ stood in a sim-
ilar tradition.74 From his prolonged stay at a factory in Canton, he had
brought with him a set of drawings by the Chinese draftsman Pu Qua,
and he published them in 1804 with commenting texts, similar to the
volumes by Alexander. Even though this time the prints were produced
by a Chinese hand, nevertheless they were equally no ‘objective’ rep-
resentation of Chinese reality. Rather they stood in the tradition of
Chinese export watercolours, which had been produced since the mid-
dle of the 18th century for the Western market, probably as souvenirs
for European merchants in Canton. They orientated themselves on the
Western European painting tradition, not the Chinese one.75 For this
they used the stereotypes of the Chinese that the Europeans had given
them.76 They mostly depicted Chinese workers in simple jobs, such as
moneychanger, barber, frog catcher or beggar.
However, these drawings did not only stand in the tradition of nat-
ural history paintings but were also inspired by English genre-painting
or ‘fancy pieces’, which were produced at the same time, and which
show the English poor at their work. The most popular edition of these
genre-paintings was the series ‘The Cries of London’ by Francis Wheat-
ley. These pictures also do not show portraits of individual people. It
is the activity that defines the identity of the represented person: the
servant who plucks the turkey, the women who sell mackerel and so
on.77 The majority of Alexander’s pictures represent Chinese of the lower
ranks at their work: for example, ‘A Group of Trackers at Dinner’78 or
‘A Bookseller’.79 Members of the Chinese upper ranks were hardly shown
at all. Significantly, Alexander did not include several sketches that he
had made of them in his publication, in particular one of a Chinese
scholar.80 Until 1841, these books published by Alexander and Mason
were the only major ethnographic representation of the Chinese. It was
only in 1827, between April and May, that two ‘Chinese ladies’ were
exhibited as a special attraction of a ‘Chinese exhibition’, where ‘gen-

uine Chinese goods’ were sold. They were advertised as typical examples
of their people, carrying out the superstitious practices of the Chinese.
This short ethnographic display of Chinese people however has to be
seen mainly in the context of the sale of Chinese goods and the enter-
tainment industry of London, in which everything Chinese, from the
Chinoise play to Chinese jugglers, was still very much in fashion. It
is not known whether it attracted any attention from more scientifi-
cally interested men.81 These new representations of China in Britain
were thus influenced by Chinoiserie as well as ideas on ethnographical
painting.
These images were used to give the interior design of the Pavilion in
Brighton its more authentic character. Paintings based on the Mason
and William Alexander books, which showed the ‘manners of the peo-
ple’, were applied in the Ante-Room, and Chinese implements of war
painted on the walls. Similar paintings decorated the Small Drawing
Room. There were even some life-size statues adorned with Chinese
costumes.82 Real Chinese wallpaper was used as well as a vast amount of
Chinese export furniture and curiosities and fewer Chinoise accessories
which had been manufactured in Europe. This more authentic style of
Chinoiserie probably served two purposes. On the one hand, it satis-
fied the Prince’s interest in weapons as well as his pleasure in theatrical
scenes and dressing up. On the other hand, this more authentic Chinese
style and the depiction of Chinese people and their customs demon-
strated the direct contact the British had with the Chinese Empire and
their ability to observe them, thus expressing its power in diplomacy
and trade. It was the short-lived expression of a truly British Chinoiserie.
The plans for a Chinese style exterior, developed after 1802, were
never executed. Rather, from 1805 onwards, the Prince seems to have
been more fascinated with Indian architecture. Humphry Repton set out
to develop plans for the grounds and the enlargement of the Pavilion
as an Indian Palace. He might have been attracted by the association of
Indian architecture with the sublime and the noble and glittering past of
the Mughal Empire, which especially the Romantics relished. The British
conquests in India probably played a role as well.83 However, the final
Indian exterior was only developed by Nash from 1815 onwards.84
China, in this context held the meaning of pleasurable things, which
could be collected and assembled with other novelties from around the
world and from the past. The Chinese style, as well as the Indian, proba-
bly also served the Prince Regent as a setting in which he could imagine
himself as a powerful monarch – much like the Chinese Emperor
Qianlong and rather less like the idea of monarchy his father, ‘Farmer
George’, had developed.85 After all, he had aspired in all his building
work more to equal the ancient regime Bourbons than a constitutional
British king.86 In its setting, Brighton, a place which came to be more
associated with leisure than court and politics, the Pavilion was the
expression of a lifestyle of luxury, moral laissez-faire and monarchical
grandeur.87
As with other elements of Prince George’s self-image, his use of
Chinoiserie did not necessarily achieve the desired effect. His association
with this style, together with the increasing notion of China as an Orien-
tal despotism, expressed for example in the reports of the second British
embassy to China in 1816, contributed to the use of Chinoiserie-style
sketches as a language of political satire. George was a favourite target
for the caricaturists, especially in times when the reform movement
gained in momentum. They commented on his culinary and drink-
ing excesses, his embonpoint, his mistresses and his attempts to get
a divorce from his wife Queen Caroline.88 Besides caricaturing George
by military boots or as an overgrown child, the caricaturists often cast
him as an Oriental despot, be it Nebuchadnezzar or, even more promi-
nently, as a Chinese figure. Even in those cartoons where George was
not shown clad in Chinese attire, the Chinoiserie interior of the Royal
Pavilion was used as the backdrop for criticising him and his court liv-
ing in Oriental pomp and splendour, spending money on grotesque and
unnecessary fancies.89 China seems to have been still foreign enough to
appeal to the Prince as the origin of lofty, luxurious and light-hearted
surroundings. However, this otherness, which placed China half in the
realm of fairy tales, half in that of an Oriental despotism, made it the
perfect image for demonstrating how removed the Prince, and equally
later as King George IV, and his Circle were from the real needs of his
nation. By depicting the Prince and his circle in Chinese costume, or
as a mythological Chinese character (Joss and Fum), his distance from
his nation is even more exaggerated.90 This becomes evident in a car-
toon by William Williams in 1822 where the King is shown as a Chinese
Mandarin and the royal arms are transformed into a Chinese emblem,
with dragons as supporters. While George liked to portray himself as a
hero and saviour of the British nation, the caricaturists saw him as a
regent without Britishness, without interest in his nation, amoral and
with clearly despotic tendencies, not least in his spending pattern and
his demand for public money.91
The association of China with Chinoiserie thus remained vivid in
the British mind. Attempts to incorporate these new, more ethno-
graphic images of China into the Chinoiserie interior design as in the
Pavilion were short-lived. This Chinoiserie meaning of China remained

attached to notions of deformity and luxury. In the context of the car-
icatures of Prince George, this Chinoiserie China also became more
politicised, representing dangerous excessive and absolutist tendencies,
much as the Bourbon Court had done before the Revolution. The
failure of the Amherst embassy and with it the rapid decline of the
idea of the benevolent Chinese monarch probably contributed to this
development.92
Above all, the use of Chinoiserie in this context shows its meaning
as the complete other, something alien, with which a British monarch
should not associate himself. China might be observed in ethnographic
paintings, but in the minds of those concerned with British national
identity, it should no longer infiltrate British homes. In the realm of
theatre and, to a limited extent, interior design, the idea of an exotic,
mysterious China nevertheless continued.
The intellectual debates about China as well as Chinoiserie were both
answers to the influx of reports about China as well as its consumer
goods. They were two ways in which information on China and its
consumer goods were incorporated into a British-centred dialogue. Both
aspects contributed to the chain of associations which formed ‘China’
in British minds. However, the meaning of China could change depend-
ing on the context. It could be a stagnating civilisation, a metaphor for
decaying British morals or an escapist fantasy.
The influence of William Alexander’s paintings on Chinoiserie designs
in the Royal Pavilion shows that the contact with China in the con-
text of the British imperial expansion became increasingly important
for the way in which China was imagined in Britain after the Macart-
ney embassy and how new, allegedly scientific knowledge about it was
constructed.
Britons in Canton, in embassies to Beijing, and in India and Southeast
Asia formed new ‘contact zones’ with China and the Chinese from the
1760s onwards, a process which intensified after 1790. This expansion
brought a pluralisation of British experiences, in each of which they had
to come to terms with what China meant and increasingly what Britain
meant to China. Knowledge about Chinese language, law and religion
was influenced by the local contact zones as well as the networks of
Europe’s imperial expansion in Asia. As far as Britain was concerned, its
points of reference for the meanings of China shifted from the European
networks of literati and of fashion to those of its nascent Asian Empire.
3
At the China Coast
Within the space of 30 years the British monarch sent two embassies
to the court in Beijing. From the 1760s, the British community at the
China coast was growing, although never to large numbers. During
the embassies and in Canton, the British had to take into account the
reaction of the Chinese to the image of Britain and China formed by
the British. This was a stark contrast to the philosophers, merchants or
appreciators of Chinoiserie in Britain, who could create their own image
of China quite unencumbered by any real contact. In particular, Canton
was to become one of the main hubs in which knowledge about China
was created, used and transferred to and from other regions of Asia and
back to Britain from the 1760s to 1840s, radically changing the way
China was understood in the British Empire.
The search for knowledge about the Chinese Empire was central to the
endeavours of the British in Canton as well as during the Macartney and
later the Amherst embassies. They hoped that knowledge of Chinese cus-
toms, law and language would give them more agency in their dealings
with the Chinese. Moreover, it would allow them to style themselves as
‘China experts’ who not only knew how to interact with this seemingly
so peculiar country but also, especially towards the end of the period, to
advocate what China needed for its own improvement. The geograph-
ical proximity to India and the institutional link between the EIC in
Calcutta and the Select Committee in Canton meant an increasing influ-
ence of the British presence in India and the ideas developed in this
context for this ‘contact zone’ in the south of China.
3.1 A diplomatic expedition
The Macartney embassy holds a prominent place in reflections about

British–Chinese relations and the image of China in this period. For
34
At the China Coast 35
the first time, a representative of the British Crown reached the court
of Beijing and met the Emperor of China, who had held the position
of a philosopher king in the European imagination. The narration of
this contact developed many of the themes which were significant dur-
ing this period of British–Chinese contact and the meaning of China
developed in this ‘contact zone’. Some had already played an important
role in Canton in the years after 1750, when the British first came to
stay there, but with the embassy, and especially its ultimate failure, they
were to become even more prominent after 1794.
The 1780s brought significant changes in the structure of the British
Empire and the role of the state in Eastern expansion. This was a
result of the increasing importance of Asia for Britain, and with it the
China trade. The main focus of these transformations was India, and
thus connecting India and China even more strongly in the British
imagination.
The American War of Independence ended in 1783 and brought
with it the loss of Britain’s largest settler colony. In Asia, the EIC had
increased its debt significantly by its engagement in ever further wars
and conquests, while stock market speculations in Britain added to its
precarious situation. In this context, the gains from the tea trade became
increasingly important to the British government. The Commutation
Act, introduced in 1784, reduced the duties on China teas from 120 per
cent to 12.5 per cent to limit smuggling and thus increased the excise
revenue, while at the same time helping the shaken EIC. The British
involvement in India became more lucrative due to the export of Indian
textiles and later opium to China to pay for the tea. Finally, the increased
need for an entrepôt for the China trade led to new, reinforced efforts to
find a suitable spot in Southeast Asia and thus really started off British
expansion into this region.1
At the same time, Pitt’s India Act established a stronger government
influence on the EIC’s Indian affairs. During the Warren Hastings trial,
the ambiguous role of the EIC in India had drawn public attention.
The Company was accused of ruling its Indian possessions like an Asian
tyrant and being a hoard of corruption.2 This, and just as importantly,
its huge debts, led to the introduction of stronger government control
over its political business in Asia. The Act established a Board of Control,
which was appointed by the King and consisted of one of the Secretaries
of State, the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and four other members of the
Privy Council. The Board was to supervise the political decisions and
administration of the Company in India.3 As president of the Board,
Henry Dundas soon established the importance and influence of this
position. He was eminent in shaping the government’s Asia policy in

this period. As a purely commercial enterprise, the EIC’s China trade
was not touched by this new institution. Consequently, it acquired a
growing importance for the Court of Directors as it was the only sphere
in which they could act unhindered and achieve profit. The China
trade gained particular importance when it became clear that the Indian
possessions would not produce as much revenue as had been hoped.4
After the Commutation Act, the EIC had managed to establish a near
monopoly for the European tea trade in Canton. In 1784, during ‘The
Lady Hughes Affair’, a British gunner at Canton was hanged by the
Chinese authorities after accidentally killing two Chinese. This brought
to the attention of the British government that the China trade still
stood on an unstable basis. They were concerned that the British nei-
ther had a source of information about nor influence on the Chinese
Court, which had become such an important neighbour to the British
in India.5 They realised that the state had to take a greater interest in this
matter and decided to send an ambassador. It was believed that, in con-
trast to the merchants, he would be able to impress the Chinese Court
due to his rank, and would leave them with a more positive view of the
British. As a result, it was hoped that he would be able to ensure British
predominance in the China trade. A collection of modern scientific
instruments as presents were supposed to impress the Emperor of China
of British advances in the sciences and thus demonstrate their power
in the world.6 The British feared that others had played the diplomatic
game better and had already maligned the British at Beijing. The French
and the Portuguese had a presence at the Court of the Qing Emperor
through their missionaries and Britain was afraid that the French might
repeat their Indian game here, supporting a native power against them.7
However, as J. Cranmer-Byng has pointed out, the British were equally
concerned about Russian activities in the region, both in connection to
China and to Japan.8
The embassy, that was decided upon by Henry Dundas and William
Pitt, was not simply a diplomatic enterprise. It was also an expression
of the new importance of the science of men and nature, informed by
Enlightenment patronage of explorers and scientific improvement of
agriculture. The prime example of this was Captain Cook with his South
Sea Voyages, but also expeditions such as the journey of the Bounty.9
Following this spirit, the Macartney embassy was equipped like a scien-
tific expedition. Even in the letter of introduction from George III to
the Chinese Emperor, the importance of scientific journeys was high-
lighted as a representation of the virtue of a ruler.10 Especially in the
context of Chinese entry restrictions, a mission to the Chinese Emperor

was an occasion not to be missed and Joseph Banks became strongly
involved with the preparations for the embassy. Its entourage included
two ‘botanic gardeners’, an expert in chemistry as well as a ‘natural
philosopher’.11
The embassy, which embarked from Portsmouth on the 21 September
1792 under the leadership of Lord Macartney was thus both an attempt
by the state to set the trade with China on a better footing and an
attempt to discover the secrets of the Chinese flora, fauna and culture.
The embassy has frequently attracted the attention of historians.12
It has been portrayed as a symbol for the beginning of a radical
Eurocentrism with Macartney’s refusal to kowtow,13 as well as the
clash of the progressive, rational Britain and the immobile, traditional
China.14 James L. Hevia revised this idea by establishing the importance
and meaning of ritual for both sides, showing that neither side had a
more rational or irrational system of foreign relations. He argued that
rather than understanding the embassy as a clash of cultures, one had
to see it as the meeting of two ‘imperial formations’, each of which
insisted upon the acceptance by the other side of its universal claim
to sovereignty and its way to conduct international relations.15 While
Hevia’s work has done a lot to leave the well-trodden paths that have
dominated understanding of the embassy, his narrow focus on some
vague British ‘enlightened bourgeois public sphere’ as the culture that
shaped Macartney and caused him to perceive and interact with the
Chinese in a certain way does rather ignore the influence of other fac-
tors on the embassy, such as British ideas on India as well as the fear
of a Russian expansion in Asia. It is essential to consider in the follow-
ing how these aspects shaped British ideas of China in the context of
the embassy and how this expedition transformed British perceptions
of what their country’s relationship with China ought to be. The idea
of the good British character was central to this new relationship, to an
even greater extent than Hevia has recognised.
The image of China as the immutable empire, which was not inter-
ested in foreign commerce was so strong in the 18th century that for
Adam Smith, China served as the prime example of a society that iso-
lated itself from foreign trade. Why then did Pitt and Dundas think that
an embassy might be successful? It was mainly the Russian example that
was cited in this context. The Russian embassy from Peter the Great,
under the ambassador Ismailov, had managed to obtain permission to
trade in Beijing and to have an agent residing there. In addition to this,
the conditions of their trade had been settled in a treaty – something no
other European power had achieved.16 For the British, this constituted
the proof that an embassy was the right method to gain concessions
from the Chinese and indeed that the British had the right to a per-
manent mission in Beijing.17 While this had already been an important
element in the planning of the Cathcart embassy, which was aborted
after the death of the ambassador en route in 1787, it became even
more important in 1792. At this point, there were already political ten-
sions between Great Britain and Russia, when the British became aware
of new plans by Catharine II to extend her influence and possibly ter-
ritory in the Amur region, as well as planning an embassy to Japan.18
This made it even more important to gain influence on the Chinese
before the Russians were able to do so in a diplomatic or military way.
This British knowledge of the Russian approaches to China also had
important consequences for the kowtow question as will be discussed
later.
However, the success of the embassy did not only depend on the
Chinese actually being open to negotiations and diplomatic influence –
it also depended on the assumption that the Chinese monarch could
be understood as somebody who was worthy of the attention of the
British King and who would understand the meaning of his letter and
presents. While his country was considered to be in the decaying stage
of an oriental civilisation, the emperor himself was seen by those who
prepared the embassy as an enlightened, if oriental monarch, who was
merely unaware of the corruption and oppression which his Mandarins
at Canton were guilty of.19 This monarch was believed to be open to
the benefit of trade and the rule of law and would clearly approve of
George III’s support for expeditions and science to the improvement
of mankind.20 Thus, Dundas and the other organisers of the embassy
hoped that if only the Chinese understood the British position in the
world, they would naturally be interested in coming to a friendly agree-
ment with them, which would at least be equal to the one they had
already established with the Russians.21
The primary goal of the embassy was thus to establish a relation
of friendship between the two monarchs, and the recognition of each
other’s position in the world. The changes in the conditions of trade
towards such that were of mutual benefit would then follow naturally,
since it was the duty of every sovereign to protect the exchange of
commodities, which were spread out over the world.22
The ambassador who was to achieve this goal was clearly selected to
adapt to the apparent Chinese disapproval of merchants as well as being
somebody who had experience in dealing with more or less enlightened
oriental despots. Lord Macartney, styled ‘cousin’ of the King, was a well-
established member of the British aristocratic elite. Furthermore, he had
been ambassador to the Court of Catharina II in Russia and governor of
Madras, and George Staunton as his secretary had negotiated with Tippu
Sultan. He was strongly influenced by Enlightenment ideas with their
emphasis on systematisation, rational discussion and the ‘disinterested
observer’.23 Thus the key personnel of the embassy had been formed by
the intellectual climate in Britain as well as by their experience in and
perception of India.
In addition to the presents and the letter to the Chinese Emperor,
the British saw the direct and uninterrupted communication with the
Chinese as central to the success of the embassy. Since there were no
Britons who could speak Chinese, so-called Chinese ‘linguists’, who
had some knowledge of English conducted the necessary transactions
in Canton, while Jesuits served as interpreters in more difficult cases.
The British had great doubts about the ability and the loyalty of both
and therefore did not want to rely on any interpreters appointed by the
Chinese government.24 After all, those persons should not be able to
destroy the first demonstration of the true British character to the Chi-
nese. Macartney’s experience in Madras probably also played a role. In
the EIC’s territories in India, the question of the truthfulness of native
interpreters and language teachers increasingly became an issue and was
one of the major reasons for William Jones’s efforts to learn Sanskrit.25
In a similar way in China, it was felt that the lack of knowledge of the
foreign language became a problem, in particular at the point where the
relationship between the countries exceeded that of trade.
However, the only interpreters the British could find for this expedi-
tion were two Chinese converts from the Roman Catholic College of
Propaganda at Naples.26 During the months at sea, they taught two
members of the embassy, the scientist John Barrow and the 12-year-
old son of Sir George Staunton, George Thomas Staunton, rudimentary
knowledge of Chinese. Whereas it seems that the former did not make
a great progress, the young boy became familiar enough with the lan-
guage to be able to occasionally act as a writer for the embassy. During
the audience at Jehol, he was presented to the Chinese Emperor and
spoke a few words of Chinese to him.27
During their stay in China, the higher ranking members of the
embassy saw their opinion about the problem of native interpreters
reinforced.28 In this context, the Chinese were represented as either
unreliable or timid, weak and corrupted by the fear of a despotic gov-
ernment. The Jesuit missionaries were shown to be partly affected by
that fear as well, since they were also dependent on and therefore
corrupted by this government. Only the innocent young Englishman
and the Chinese interpreter, who had attached himself so much to
the British that he was only called ‘Mr. Plumb’ and was described as
often passing for a European,29 could actually provide the service Britain
needed. The ambassador, Lord Macartney, therefore underlined the need
of the British to learn Chinese in order to become independent of
the unreliable and sometimes false Chinese and the biased Catholic
missionaries:
We therefore almost entirely depend on the good faith and good-

nature of the few Chinese whom we employ, and by whom we can be
but imperfectly understood in the broken gibberish we talk to them.
I fancy that Pan-ke-qua or Mahomet Soulem would attempt doing
business on the Royal Exchange to very little purpose if they appeared
there in long petticoat clothes, with bonnets and turbans, and could
speak nothing but Chinese or Arabic.30
Once the embassy had met with the Chinese who would accompany
them to the audience with the Emperor, Macartney quickly started to
evaluate the officials. By categorising them, he wanted to make sure
that he was treated with respect by the Chinese side as well as iden-
tifying whom he could trust.31 In particular, he noted the difference
between the Manchus and the Chinese in his effort to make sense of the
China that was presented to him. Here, his Indian experience was to be
crucial. The Manchus, in Macartney’s mind, like the Mughals, were for-
eign rulers who had established a tyranny of a handful ‘over more than
three hundred millions of Chinese’.32 Despite perceived knowledge, he
argued, the Manchus had not become Chinese, but rather remained true
to their origin, as was typical for Oriental monarchs: ‘A series of two
hundred years in the succession of eight or ten monarchs did not change
the Mogul into a Hindu, nor has a century and a half made Ch’ien-lung
a Chinese.’33
Although he praised the government through which the four suc-
cessive Manchu emperors managed to stabilise the empire despite this
imbalance, the Chinese had suffered under this rule. Since the conquest
by the more barbarous Tartars, Macartney stated, the Chinese civilisa-
tion had deteriorated, while Europe had developed its arts and sciences
every day. He also attributed the negative character strains he noticed
in the Chinese, especially their tendency to lie, to the fact that every
Chinese with aspiration had to attach himself to a despised Tartar.34
Now, however, the Chinese began to ‘feel their native energies revive’.
And it was thus only a matter of time before the Chinese would rise
against their Tartar tyrants, but if this were to take the form of a violent
revolution rather than that of a gentle and gradual change, a new catas-
trophe would await them: ‘Thus then the Chinese, if not led to emanci-
pation by degrees, but let loose on a burst of enthusiasm would probably
fall into all the excesses of folly, suffer all the paroxysms of madness,
and be found as unfit for the enjoyment of freedom as the French
and the negros.’35 One wonders who was supposed to lead the Chinese
to emancipation, since Macartney obviously did not trust the Manchu
emperors to control the situation much longer; and, as he points out in
another part of his diary, Britain would certainly be the primary bene-
factor of a revolution in China.36 In such an event, the British would
pay back all the humiliations received by the Chinese, as they had done
with the Indian Rajas and Nawabs.37 Macartney thus established a sys-
tem through which he could create a China that he could understand
and that would help him not only during his immediate mission, but
which would also give the British an insight into the long-term develop-
ments in China and a possible British role in its future. His estimation
of China’s political future however was more influenced by his view of
the events in India than by any proper assessment of the situation in
the Qing Empire. Macartney thus gave China a new political meaning.
One of the most important features in this context was Macartney’s
understanding of the kowtow ceremony, which officially established a
new relationship between Britain and China. While Macartney’s precon-
ception of China undoubtedly played an important role in his position
towards the question of the kowtow, the ceremony he did conduct in
the end, and which has been considered as such a significant sign of the
new eurocentrism, was a result of the contact zone. In his instructions,
Henry Dundas had after all only vaguely told Macartney to ‘conform to
all ceremonials of that Court which may not commit the honor of your
Sovereign or lessen your own dignity, so as not to endanger the success
of your negotiations.’38
Macartney’s refusal to comply with the ceremony of the kowtow had
two connected reasons. To an enlightened Englishman, a ceremony
like the kowtow smacked too much of irrational pomp, associated with
absolutism, tyranny and Asian slavishness.39 This rationalisation of cere-
monies also seems to have filled them with more meaning. Where earlier
ambassadors had gone through the kowtow or the hand kiss of the
Algerian bey without attributing too much to it, it was now considered
an act of submission and thus humiliation of the British monarch.40
However, Macartney’s attitude to the kowtow was also a consequence

of his understanding of the Chinese system of foreign relations. He had
closely studied all the available reports of the former European embassies
to China. The Russian precedent played a crucial role in the set up of
the embassy. Similarly, it seems to have served Macartney as the key
example of successful negotiations with the Chinese Emperor. Accord-
ing to the Scot John Bell, who had travelled with the Russian embassy,
the Russian ambassador, Ismailov, had initially refused to kowtow, how-
ever had apparently then complied with the ceremony after he had
negotiated that a Chinese ambassador to the court of the Tsar would
equally conduct the appropriate ceremonies.41 It was thus not just Euro-
centric arrogance towards foreign customs when Macartney demanded
the reciprocity of ceremonies from the Chinese, rather than of sim-
ply kowtowing. It had been the Russian, after all, who, after changing
the ceremony in this way, had managed to negotiate a favourable set-
tlement with the Chinese.42 From this precedent, Macartney drew the
conclusion that the Chinese only negotiated on an equal basis with
powers whom they acknowledged as being above their normal ‘tribu-
tary’ states, and that this had to find its expression in the ceremony
during the audience with the Emperor. When the Chinese negotiators
refused Macartney’s suggestion of using the etiquette of the English
court at the audience, the British ambassador suggested the Russian
solution: he would kowtow if a Chinese of equal rank with him would
perform the same ceremony before the picture of the British king; unlike
Ismailov’s arrangement however, this did not leave the reciprocity to a
vague future.43
As Hevia has argued, the Qing guest ritual was an adaptable instru-
ment through which the dynasty defined its relationship with other
powers. While the goal was to constitute a supreme lord–lesser lord rela-
tionship, the ritual itself could be modified to acknowledge the special
status of the other power to a certain extent.44 It appears that when
the embassy arrived in Jehol, the summer residence of the emperor,
neither the emperor nor his close advisers were aware of Macartney’s
intentions.45 When these came to the attention of the emperor, his
grand councillors seem to have made an attempt to press Macartney to
comply with the ceremony,46 but then, for reasons still not entirely clear,
decided to allow Macartney to conduct the English ceremony. However,
one alteration was made; the kissing of the emperor’s hand was too irrec-
oncilable with Qing traditions and therefore had to be dropped. Thus,
both sides had been able to modify their respective rites to the extent
that the audience, which was a defining event for the relationship of the
two countries, could proceed. However, a ceremony, such as this audi-

ence, was never only important in its ritual content for the participants,
but also in its effect on and reception by the audience.47 In contrast
to inter-European relationships, the audience in this case was sharply
divided into the English-speaking recipients of the ceremony and the
Qing officials. Each of them was thus able to retain some authority over
their interpretation of it, at least for the time being. The Qing docu-
ments, particularly the poem by the Qianlong Emperor directly after the
audience, did not indicate that the audience had included anything out
of the ordinary and that the British had indeed come to acknowledge
the superiority and virtue of the Qing.48 In Macartney’s eyes, however,
the first official contact with the Chinese Empire had been established
during the audience and the Chinese Emperor had acknowledged the
special position of the British in the world. Especially his steadfastness
in the negotiations had shown the Chinese what kind of nation they
were dealing with.49
When the embassy ultimately failed to reach any of its diplomatic
goals, Macartney sought the causes in the political realm on the Chinese
side, rejecting the idea that either the immutable Chinese traditions or
his own, European, expectations could possibly have caused the misad-
venture. The alteration of the ceremony at the audience had proven to
Macartney that Chinese customs were indeed changeable.50
As has been noted, the embassy did not only have a diplomatic
mission, but was also supposed to bring new knowledge about China.
Therefore, from the moment the Macartney embassy reached China its
members set out to measure and categorise the landscape, the harbours,
the plants, animals and the inhabitants of China.51 In their reports, they
presented themselves as objective observers, distancing themselves from
the Chinese they watched.52 However, the Chinese were suspicious that
the British were actually not just interested in Chinese civilisation but
looking for military intelligence. The British researchers ignored this
connotation and attributed the obstructions to their enquiring minds to
the Chinese character, which they described as ‘suspicious’ and ‘jealous’
halting progress.
However, these texts cannot hide that the members of the embassy
were at the same time an object of curiosity and study to the Chinese.
Wherever the embassy went, its members saw crowds of Chinese watch-
ing curiously, which had to be kept at bay by the Chinese guards.53
At their quarters at Beijing, they had to cope with streams of visitors,
who studied all the curious items of ‘use and convenience’ which the
Europeans had brought with them, like dressing-tables, shaving-glasses
and pocket instruments. The chief Mandarin of the Emperor’s orchestra

even asked for permission to copy several of the musical instruments
the embassy orchestra had brought with it. Initially, Macartney was
delighted by this inquisitiveness since it showed that the Chinese
accepted that they had a lot to learn from the British. The problem
was however that he was unable to control this investigation. He had
to ask the accompanying Mandarins to channel the number and qual-
ity of the visitors who wanted to see the picture of the British king
and queen. With respect to other objects of Chinese curiosity, he was
unable to put up any restrictions, and they thus suffered from the ‘eager-
ness of their curiosity, and from their awkwardness in handling them’.54
The British saw this attention as a positive process for as long as they
could see themselves in the position of a teacher; however, they felt
uncomfortable as soon as they could no longer control this. This feeling
of discomfort shows the ambivalence of the ‘contact zone’ where the
object of study might at any time leave its assigned role.
Through the contact with the Chinese and China, the members of the
embassy could claim to have gained first-hand knowledge about them,
which was verified by the eyes and ears of British gentlemen, who could
act as objective observers. Back in Britain, their reports thus became a
new legitimate source of knowledge on China and the Chinese. For the
first time it became possible to construct a China according to the ideas
of the new natural history and the stadial theory.
The Chinese in this context were transformed from being more or less
equals (as they still were in the diplomatic part of the embassy), to being
mere objects of study; this increased the distance between the British
and the Chinese as well as heightening their foreignness. By being able
to create new valid knowledge on China, the members of the embassy
could also contribute to a better estimation of China by ascertaining its
place in the order of civilisations.55 It gave the British the feeling that
they now ‘understood’ China, at least to a certain extent, making future
approaches possible as well as initiating further British studies of China.
In Britain itself, the embassy as a diplomatic venture remained highly
contested. Especially the opponents of the Pitt government criticised
the mission. In the eyes of Peter Pindar and William Winterbotham, the
British government had bowed before an Asian tyrant and endangered
British national honour by the ridiculous outfit and behaviour of the
embassy. According to them, the main reason for the embassy was the
longing for Asian luxuries. This brought the risk that even the ambas-
sador himself as well as his monarch turned Asiatic and gave up British
liberties.56
The embassy formed a ‘contact zone’ of its own between the British
and the Chinese, which had its effects on the British ideas about China
in Britain as well as in Canton. The idea that the British now had bet-
ter knowledge about the Chinese would be of crucial importance for any
further interactions. Furthermore, for a short time the British hoped that
a diplomatic channel to the court in Beijing could indeed be established,
if the time was ripe. The Macartney embassy thus hardly formed the end
in British attempts at peaceful diplomacy with the Chinese. However,
the new connection between Britain and China still attracted the crit-
icism of those who saw the Asia trade in luxuries as a threat to British
liberties.
The Macartney embassy had only briefly opened a ‘contact zone’
between Britain and the Chinese Empire. It had had its origin primar-
ily in the British contact with the Chinese Empire in Canton and the
remainder of this chapter will discuss the multiple meanings of China
created by the British in this ‘contact zone’ and the relations of power,
knowledge and identity in this outpost between the two empires.
3.2 Chinese law and British rights
On the 18th of June 1799, George Thomas Staunton, the young boy who
had kneeled before the Emperor of China as a member of the Macart-
ney embassy, bid farewell to his parents at Portsmouth and sailed for
China again. As the only child of a not very prosperous gentry family,
his father had managed to secure him the position of secretary of the
EIC in Canton mainly due to his knowledge of Chinese. Staunton thus
arrived in Canton to take up his position. The sensitive young boy had
received a very special education by several house teachers, and had
never attended any public schools. Only rarely had he had the com-
pany of other children, such as his cousins.57 This upbringing had little
prepared him for the community in which he was to live in Canton. He
found his duties, which mainly consisted of copying the factory records,
mindless, and he regarded his fellow Britons there as ignorant. Their
leisure activities, such as horse and boat racing did not appeal to him,
and in his letters home he complained about the total lack of culture in
the European community at Canton.58
This British community into which Staunton found it so hard to set-
tle had evolved from the 1750s onwards, when the EIC had allowed
its supercargoes to stay in China for more than one season. It was very
small – in 1828, there were only a total of 25 people on the employ-
ment list of the EIC in Canton.59 In addition to this, there were several
country traders, increasing in number, but still no more than 53 private

English traders and 52 Parsees in 1833.60 The EIC employees would stay
in China for long periods, often as long as 15 or 20 years, hoping to
acquire enough money for a good life in Britain after their return. They
were only allowed to travel back to England on important occasions,
or as member of the Select Committee, to take home leave on average
every three years.61
The British presence in China was not an imperial one, nor even a
trading post protected by the military. This as well as the small number
of Britons in Canton meant that the Qing government’s organisation
of foreign trade shaped the life of the British in China to a great extent.
Over the years, the Qing government had developed a set of rules to con-
trol these strangers at its coast. Trade was restricted to Canton alone, and
the Europeans were only permitted to reside there during the trading
season. Moreover, they were not allowed to bring their wives and chil-
dren with them, to carry arms, to own property or to have any contact
with the Chinese population other than the Hong merchants. Outside
the trading season, between April and September, the British had to live
on Macao, where their families stayed for the entire year. Here they had
to come to an arrangement with the Portuguese authorities.62
This system suited the interest of the Qing dynasty who wanted to
keep the coastal frontier calm while concentrating on consolidating
their power in Central Asia. Furthermore, they also only had rather a
confused notion regarding the origin and culture of these European
foreigners.63 As a Central Asian people themselves, they probably also
had little interest in maritime trade and thus adopted the restrictive sys-
tem of the late Ming dynasty which had been developed to keep the
Japanese pirates at the coast under control.64
However, this situation was a continuous cause of complaint for the
British. Restrained to stay in the factories, prohibited from entering the
city itself and met with hostility by the locals, a tension built up that was
likely to erupt. If an incident occurred that involved the wounding or
even the killing of a Chinese or a European, the British even felt more
at the mercy of the local authorities. Sometimes, as in the case of an
Englishman, Mr. Pigot, who had killed a Chinese in 1820, all sides might
work together to guarantee the smooth continuation of trade. On that
occasion, in order to avoid confrontation, the Hong merchants and the
Cantonese government agreed to accept that a man who had committed
suicide would be seen as the guilty party, thus settling the case, despite
the fact that they knew that he had not actually been the real culprit.
Certainly, there was some meaningful dialogue between both sides, but
this never made the British stop seeing the Chinese authorities in a neg-
ative light as ‘the Other’. The very fact that the Chinese were prepared
to accept such subterfuge served yet again to prove to the employees
of the EIC the two-faced character of the Chinese; clearly these were
people who would accept anything as long as they were able to keep
up appearances. This image provided a convenient justification for the
morally somewhat dubious actions of the EIC employees themselves – a
pattern that was to occur repeatedly.65
The contact EIC employees had with Britain was limited to letters,
which took up to more than six months to arrive. It was thus to the
Governor-General in India that the EIC servants looked for support
and for guidelines in situations of crisis. In most cases, however, the
Select Committee made its own decisions, assuming later approval by
the Court of Directors. However, the contacts with the Court of Direc-
tors and the EIC in India meant that the servants of the EIC in Canton
were influenced in their attitudes towards the Chinese by ideas that were
influential in the Indian context as well.
The president of the Select Committee was considered by the Chinese
as the person responsible for the actions of all British in the port. This
repeatedly led to conflicts, for example in cases where a member of a
country-ship had caused trouble with the Chinese authorities or on the
few occasions when a ship of the British navy entered the port. The
officers of these ships would not accept any orders from the Select Com-
mittee, while the Chinese held the Select Committee responsible for the
conduct of the navy ships.66
With the growing importance of British trade in Canton, however,
the Select Committee increasingly saw themselves as representatives
of the British. To a certain extent, they also considered themselves to
occupy the role of representatives of all Europeans in Canton. Dur-
ing a conflict with the Chinese authorities in 1831, for example, they
issued a public announcement stating that they would stop trade if no
solution was to be found. They added authority to this proclamation
by calling themselves ‘REPRESENTATIVES of the BRITISH NATION in
CHINA’.67 They were also accepted as representatives of British interests
by the country traders, as long as they supported their goals.68 The ‘free
English’, or country merchants, for example, considered the rigid mea-
sures taken by the majority of the Select Committee against the Chinese
in 1830/1831 as beneficial to the entire community. When the Court
of Directors disapproved of the measures of the Select Committee and
called them back, the country traders expressed their regret.69 The Select
Committee was apparently also used as an accepted arbitrator in cases of
dispute between Britons and Chinese, especially where country traders

were concerned.70 This was a view the Court of Directors in London did
not share.71 As far as they were concerned, the China trade was purely
an economic issue and thus it was more important to keep the EIC
trade going than to act in the alleged interests of the British nation in
general.
In the direct neighbourhood of the British were the factories of the
other European trading companies, most notably the French, Dutch,
Danish and those of the Americans. The Europeans often acted jointly in
cases where they saw their interests in danger. For example, during the
‘Lady Hughes Affair’, all European traders joined the British stoppage
of trade to exert pressure on the Chinese.72 However, there was fierce
competition between the European traders for a share in the Chinese
market. Several of them were concerned about a possible success of
the Macartney embassy which might improve the British conditions in
Canton. The Dutch were so worried in fact that the VOC (Vereenigde
Oostindische Compagnie) sent an embassy to Beijing the year after the
British.73 After 1785, the British had managed to gain predominance in
the European China trade and thus began to see themselves as leaders
of the Europeans.
While the employees of the EIC in Canton thus saw themselves to
a certain extent as members of a European group in contrast to the
Chinese and other Asian traders, the Hong merchants nevertheless also
constituted a respected part of the trading community.
There seems to have been good and friendly contact between EIC
employees and the Hong merchants. Puankequa, for example, the most
prominent Hong merchant in the late 18th century, was famous for
his banquets for Western merchants and sea captains. On the first
day, the banquet would be in Western style, with knives and forks.
This was followed by a Chinese opera, which included actors in West-
ern dress. The next evening, the meal would be served Chinese style,
followed by further entertainment such as acrobatics and fireworks.74
Other Hong merchants maintained similar amicable intercourse with
the foreign merchants. The brother of the Hong merchant Puankequa
II, for example, nicknamed ‘the Squire’, was well known for his affinity
to Westerners.75
These social encounters were accompanied by the recognition of the
Hong as sometimes very able, but almost always respectable, business-
men. This was especially important due to the long crisis of insolvencies
of several of the Hongs.76 In order to keep the trade going, it became nec-
essary for the EIC Select Committee to lend huge sums to the insolvent
Hongs, in the hope to avoid their bankruptcy. To justify this to them-

selves and to their superiors in London, they had to evoke the image of
a trustworthy Chinese merchant. For the EIC employees at Canton, the
image of the treacherous Chinese merchant, which had been introduced
by the Jesuits, therefore was not dominant.77 On the contrary, when
the Hong merchant Coqua faced serious financial difficulties, the Select
Committee expressed their confidence in him and argued in favour
of helping him. James Molony, a member of the Select Committee,
suggested
that the President might be requested to consider Coqua in the

arrangements for the ensuing Season as an act of charity to a deserv-
ing man the son of an old Hong Merchant, who had suffered in the
liberal assistance & confidence, which he had placed in an English-
man; but more particularly to a man who had universally gained
the esteem of ourselves & predecessors by his upright conduct in his
transactions with the Hon’ble Company, his urbanity of manners, &
the ready & correct communications, which he ever afforded.78
This was not confined to a single incident in the case of this particular
merchant, but applied in several cases.79 The case of Coqua is interest-
ing, because he is one of several Hong merchants who were charged by
the Canton government with collaborating too closely with the British.
In order to appear as a trustworthy business partner to the British, he
opened himself to attacks from Chinese officials, who always tried to
keep foreigners and Chinese as far apart from each other as possible.80
Building a trusted relationship with the Hong was thus a crucial strategy
of the EIC Select Committee to ensure the smooth running of their trade
and in order to make the Hong merchants overlook some of the laws and
regulations of their country. Nevertheless, the idea of the treacherous
Chinese never seems to have been far away.
However, social contacts as well as the common commercial interest
meant that the Hong merchants and the Chinese employees were not
necessarily seen and imagined as a distant, negative ‘Other’. Chinese
and European merchants formed a community which was based on
communication, interchange and mutual respect. The Hong merchants
therefore were the main source of information about Qing politics and
its norms. However, British attitudes towards the Hong could change
as soon as the Chinese government became involved, so that informa-
tion acquired from the merchants was thus not always considered to be
reliable.
The reports and letters of the Britons in Canton make it clear that
they were very much aware of their absolute minority position at the
fringe of the Chinese Empire. The small size of the community also
meant that a dynamic evolved and networks were created that were
sometimes quite different from the ones back in Britain. The Select Com-
mittee was frequently more open to suggestions by country traders and
missionaries of a hard line against the Chinese than the Court of Direc-
tors in London wished. The Court was mainly interested in satisfying
its stakeholders by making a profit, ensuring the tea supply for Britain
and maintaining and extending its dominant position in the tea trade
in Canton. Their main objective therefore was that the trade proceeded
without any larger interference, that the quality and price of the tea
was good and that they were in a position to raise the funds for pay-
ing the commodities they bought in Canton. Consequently, they urged
their servants in Canton more than once not to take recourse to harsh
measures if events did not go according to their will. Of course, they
wrote, one had to take care that one did not give up any privileges,
but in general, little advantage was to be expected from too severe a
conflict with the Chinese; rather one should accept the status quo and
make allowances for ‘Chinese habits’.81 For the Select Committee how-
ever, these habits and the restrictions on foreigners did not just present
economic problems. The defence of national dignity and independence
grew increasingly important in the situation in Canton.
The EIC merchants at Canton were hardly the laureates of an idea of
China as the perfect commercial society and state. As merchants they
would have preferred a greater variety of merchants from whom they
might purchase, enabling them to reduce the prices. While it was possi-
ble for the employees of the EIC in Canton to view the Hong merchants
as part of a group with common interest, namely trade, the Chinese
government, local as well as central, was identified as a threat to British
interests and identity. This idea had been around almost since the 1760s,
but became more dominant from the 1780s onwards. Now it served as
a focal point for an increasingly aggressive attitude of EIC employees in
Canton towards the Qing authorities.
Episodes such as the ‘Lady Hughes Affair’ had shown the Select Com-
mittee that the Chinese local government was quite willing to resort to
military power if they felt that this was necessary. This feeling of insecu-
rity, in all likelihood heightened by an inability to fully understand the
methods and reasons of the local government, increased the necessity
to describe the Cantonese government and its officials as irrational and
corrupt.
Of course, the idea of Chinese despotism was already widespread at

the time and the employees of the EIC might have picked this up before
their journey to Canton. After their arrival in Canton, this was found
to be a suitable concept to define the Chinese authorities. The situa-
tion of the authorities in Canton and the Hong system certainly did
lend itself to some abuse and arbitrary measures, through which officials
might increase their personal income.82 However, the employees of the
EIC and the free merchants in Canton condensed this occasional abuse
into the defining characteristic of the Cantonese government and the
Chinese in general. Effectively, this put them in a position where they
could simply describe the Chinese authorities as the ‘negative Other’ –
whenever any of their actions did not suit the interests of the British or
indeed of the EIC.83
This idea of the corrupt and arbitrary Chinese officials became
stronger during times of crisis and it also grew more intense over time.
An important element of the idea of the arbitrary Chinese officials was
the attitude of the EIC employees at Canton to Chinese law.84 It is in
the changes to this attitude that we can trace how the idea of arbitrari-
ness and a lack of justice grew stronger from 1800 onwards. To a certain
extent, this corresponded to the increasing rejection of Indian law in
the context of British rule in India by the Liberals and Utilitarians. Here,
Indian law was increasingly seen as source of Asian despotism and the
decay of society; hence it had to be strongly modified, or even either
replaced by English law or at least reformed according to Benthamite
ideas of utility.85 At the same time, ideas about the law of nations were
influenced by Emmerich de Vattel’s argument that the facilitation of
trade was part of the ‘necessary laws’ of nations, which all states had
to submit to as laws of nature. While Vattel acknowledged the right
of nations to refuse to trade in special goods if they deemed these
harmful, most adherents of free trade ignored this caveat.86 Both tradi-
tions influenced British understanding of Chinese law and their attitude
towards it.
In the Qing Empire, the position of foreigners in the legal system
had evolved over time. During the Ming and early Qing reign, it was
clearly stated that crimes committed by foreigners on Chinese soil
had to be tried according to the Chinese Penal Code. This rule was
amended in 1743, stating that foreigners did not have to go through the
procedures ‘concerning detention and obtaining a confession’ which
were used for Chinese. While this had been intended to accommo-
date the wishes of the foreigners, it led to several complaints from the
1800 onwards, because the Europeans felt themselves excluded by this
from appellate review and communications with the judges which were
open to ordinary Chinese.87 Apart from this modification, the Qing
authorities insisted on their right to try offences that had occurred on
Chinese soil.
During the ‘Lady Hughes Affair’, the supercargoes of the EIC were hor-
rified by the actions of the Chinese and the Chinese legal system. They
considered it impossible for themselves as Englishmen to subject them-
selves to this system, ‘as a conformable compliance to these notions
seems to us so contrary to what Europeans deem humanity or justice
and if we voluntarily submitted to it must appear to all that we gave up
every moral and many principle to our Interest.’88 They demanded clar-
ification from their superiors in London regarding the question of the
extent to which British subjects on country-ships had to obey the Select
Committee.89 This might have been an attempt to secure for themselves
permission to practice extraterritorial law in China.90 However, it did
not mean a complete rejection of possible Chinese legal sovereignty91
since this request was also meant to protect the Select Committee from
charges at home in the event of handing over a British subject to the
Chinese authorities. The Committee therefore suggested a compromise
with the Chinese: In cases of murder, the European should be judged
in the presence of a Chinese magistrate, and if found guilty, should be
handed over to them. In the event that he was found not guilty, the
British would be able to then protect him.92
The Chinese did not formally accept this compromise and thus sim-
ilar cases repeatedly led to severe tensions between the Europeans and
the Chinese in Canton. Nevertheless, during the next larger incident
in February 1800, where a Briton wounded a Chinese, the President of
the Select Committee, Richard Hall, acknowledged the jurisdiction of
the Chinese courts to a certain extent. The facts of the case were that
a sailor had shot and wounded a Chinese, who had allegedly tried to
cut the anchor cable of the ship ‘Providence’. While the Chinese finally
refrained from a conviction on account of bodily harm, the captain
of the ship, John Dilkes, demanded that the Chinese be punished by
a Chinese court for his attack on the ship. However, the Cantonese
authorities refused this. In the context of this incident, Hall asked the
Cantonese Viceroy for a copy of the Chinese law, since ‘the English
being unacquainted with the Laws and Customs of China, were contin-
ually liable to involuntary infringements of them.’93 This may have been
intended mainly as a gesture of acknowledgement towards the Viceroy,
who had been helpful during the affair, or just an attempt to get a better
knowledge of the general situation. Nevertheless, it clearly shows that
the president of the Select Committee still considered the Chinese legal
system to be rational and understandable, and a system which could be
applicable to the British.
Knowledge of Chinese law remained an important factor in the fol-
lowing years. One of the most important steps in this context was the
translation of the ‘Ta Tsing Leu Lee’, the laws of the Qing dynasty, by
George Thomas Staunton in 1810. This work established its meaning in
two different contexts: for the general interested public in Great Britain
on the one hand and the EIC in London and Canton on the other.
In Canton, the information on Chinese law was seen in a practical
light; something that could be used in discussions with the Cantonese
authorities, or to predict their actions as well as the character of these
authorities. Cases such as the ones mentioned above, in which the Chi-
nese cooperated with the British, even led to the idea that the Chinese
law could be more flexible than the written Penal Code suggested.94 At
the same time however, similar to the developments concerning India,
the British in Canton developed a growing contempt for Chinese law.
The British increasingly assumed English laws and ideas of international
law to be universal and tried to elude the influence of the Chinese juris-
diction and state power in all matters, not just in murder cases.95 Due to
the nature of the contact in Canton, the British here did not so much
discuss the possible changes of Chinese law, but rather emphasised what
they saw as rights according to a law of nations. Thus the employees of
the EIC in Canton moved into opposition to their superiors in London,
who wanted to keep peace with the Chinese as far as possible. For head-
quarters, China was still only an economic field, not an area for political
intervention according to the ideas of international law.
This contrast became particularly evident in the context of a small
incident in 1817 during which the Chinese authorities evicted the ille-
gal print shop of the EIC in Canton. The Select Committee seems to have
tried to prevent the Chinese from entering by force and defended this
before their superiors in London with the argument that property was
inviolable according to the English law. The Court of Directors rebuked
them, indicating that the Chinese government was hardly bound by
English law. The only thing the British at Canton could demand was
to be protected by the Chinese law in the same way as other foreign-
ers were.96 The answer of the Select Committee contained one of the
central arguments for the validity of the British norms in contact with
the Chinese:
The disposition to depress Foreigners by the most vexatious conduct

and restrictions has frequently rendered it incumbent upon them to
resort to their individual exertions for relief [. . .] and as they unques-
tionably do not participate in the full advantages of the Laws of
China their relation to those Laws has generally been considered dif-
ferent from that of a Native – the entrance of a house without notice
or the display of authority for the act is a circumstance which has
always been deemed unjustifiable.97
The British employees of the EIC thus saw themselves excluded from the
security of the Chinese law, since it did not accord to foreigners those
laws which the British considered universal. From here it was only a
small step to ideologically completely deprive the Chinese of the right
to execute their own law in their own territory.
In order to check the growing opium trade, in 1817, the Chinese
authorities demanded the right to search all foreign ships in the harbour
of Canton, a request which the Select Committee refused, probably for
that very reason. During the debate, which spanned the next two years,
the employees of the EIC found the formula which was to determine
the conduct towards China up to the Opium War: they argued that of
course according to the law of nations every country had the right to
search the ships in their harbour to avoid smuggling; ‘China however
acknowledges no laws except her own, no Powers beyond the confines
of her own dominion.’98 In reverse, the British were excused from acting
according to the Chinese laws or the international law of nations. The
cruelty and injustice of the Chinese was now mentioned more often. For
example, in 1821, the Select Committee described the execution of an
American, who had killed a Chinese, as ‘sacrifice to the inhumanity and
injustice of the Chinese’.99 Describing the Chinese and their legal system
in these terms made it seem impossible for a Briton to subject himself
to Chinese laws. In contrast to the Chinese, the Britons portray them-
selves as safe-keepers of justice and humanity. Giving in to the Chinese
therefore would not only endanger the life of the individual concerned
but also the British identity of all Britons in the port.
In this firm stand against the Chinese authorities, the country mer-
chants stood alongside the Select Committee. They also vehemently
argued for the right of foreigners to petition at the Canton city gates
and called for more rights for foreigners under Chinese law. At the same
time, however, they made it clear that they could not possibly accept
Chinese law the way it was. Specifically they claimed that this was not
possible because Chinese law worked on the assumption that the for-
eigner wanted to assimilate himself to Chinese culture – an impossibility
for the British. In the Canton Register, the free traders also followed the
argument of the majority of the Select Committee that since China did
not adopt other parts of the rules of international contact, such as open-
ing all its ports to trade, other aspects of the law of nations equally
did not apply. This was particularly highlighted in respect of the local
authorities in Canton, who were described as even more corrupt than
those in the rest of the country. Time and again the Canton Register
wrote against the idea of an unchanging China, with immutable laws,
which had been propagated by the Jesuits as well as by the Chinese
authorities:
And all these beautifully NEW regulations, are made by the sole
authority of the Governor of Canton, without even reporting them
to the Supreme Government. People may admire as they please the
wisdom, and justice, and the perpetuity of Chinese Institutions, but
certainly these NEW regulations, are little calculated to exhibit any
one of these three admired qualities. There revolutionary enactments,
of a provincial Governor, will, ere long, (perhaps by this said Gov-
ernor himself,) be styled, the unchangeable laws of the Celestial
Empire!100
In the context of the ‘Lady Hughes Affair’, it was still seen as more or
less self-evident that there was a tradition of Chinese law which had to
be taken into account and with which one had to try to compromise. In
the following period, the British acquired more knowledge of Chinese
law through which they thought they could classify Chinese actions and
to thus make them more predictable. At the same time, this was used
to highlight the cruelty of the Chinese legal system and its failure to
adhere to the principles of British law. This made it easier to the British
at Canton to represent their disregard of the Chinese law as legitimate.
Following this, they increased their efforts to vehemently demand from
the Chinese authorities that they should have the right to judge British
subjects themselves and thus avoid Chinese sovereignty of law.101
The ‘contact zone’ in Canton thus for the first time highlighted the
question of Chinese law outside of a philosophical debate about the
nature of the Chinese state. Here, Chinese law became one of the fea-
tures which illuminated its ‘Otherness’. This ‘Otherness’ was no longer
exotic and solely served to explain Chinese society. Rather its distinc-
tiveness was considered to result from its despotic government and its
refusal to participate in the international world order, as defined by
the British. These ideas regarding the question of the extent to which
China was part of the order of international law were to become a cru-
cial element in the debates in the metropolis in the context of the end
of the EIC monopoly in 1834 and even more so in the context of the
Opium War.
In the following years, unofficial compromises were sometimes found.
However, increasingly a discourse developed which classified Chinese
law as inhumane and portraying those enacting it as both cruel and
corrupt. Following the developments in India, a meaning of the Chinese
legal system was established which categorised it as part of an Asian
despotic system. Consequently, no room was left for compromise. Any
negotiations now could be interpreted as an attack on British identity.
It was therefore increasingly easy to assert the universal validity of the
law of nations in order to justify breaching Chinese trading laws. In this
context, the British developed a meaning of China which was excluded
from and isolated itself from all other nations, an isolation that was
solely due to China’s unnatural refusal to accept universal norms. This
discourse of self-sought exclusion would be crucial in the run up to the
Opium War.
3.3 The unreliable interpreter
The use of the translation of the Chinese Penal Code shows that
British knowledge of and attitude to Chinese language was one of the
fundamental changes in this period in Canton.
Bernhard Cohn considers the years 1770–1785 as the decisive period,
in which the British set out to acquire knowledge of Indian lan-
guages to further their rule of India. The grammars, dictionaries and
teaching aids for Indian languages according to him ‘converted Indian
forms of knowledge into European objects’. This epistemological project
then helped the British ‘to issue commands and collect ever-increasing
amounts of information’, needed for their dominance of India.102
The question of the use of English and vernacular languages, lan-
guage teaching and translation has become central to several analysis of
imperialism. Language and language politics are discussed as medium of
power, through which cultural imperialism is propagated. This involves
both, the introduction of English as the language of education and
administration in the colonial setting, and the adaptation and appropri-

ation of one of the local languages as ‘standard’ language by the colonial
masters.103 Particularly in the context of translations, the power over the
meaning of words is crucially linked to the power over the mind of a
population.
In the ‘contact zone’ in Canton, knowledge of the Chinese language
was a struggle over power on both sides. While the Chinese tried to
prevent the foreigners from learning Chinese, the British in this period
set out to acquire knowledge of the Chinese language. They tried to
categorise it and use it to study Chinese culture, ultimately indepen-
dent of Chinese or Jesuit aides, or to transfer European religious and
scientific ideas to the Chinese. In Canton, as will become clear, one
of the most important features of this knowledge of the Chinese lan-
guage was that through it the British tried to gain influence over the
Chinese authorities and agency over the representation of Britishness.
The British thus turned the power of the use of Chinese language and
the self-representation of the British into yet another tool in the strug-
gle with the Chinese authorities, next to the economic power of the
stoppage of trade. As in the case of law discussed above, the insistence
to acquire the Chinese language, and to be allowed to use it, showed
a development of the idea that the British had the right and the duty
to determine the conditions of contact and that the Chinese could not
be trusted. At the same time, the Chinese understood the knowledge of
language and especially literacy as a tool for the dominance over the
‘uncivilised’.104
As discussed in the context of the Macartney embassy, very few
Britons had knowledge of Chinese and ‘linguists’ conducted the busi-
ness in Canton in pidgin English.105 This however was a system which
was met with no great sympathy by the British in Canton. They often
saw Chinese interpreters as unreliable and believed that they were an
obstacle to petitions to the Viceroy due to their fear of the Chinese
authorities and their dishonesty.106 They also considered the Jesuits
more inclined towards the interests of their own nation than towards
the British.107 Despite these problems, no real effort was made by the
Company to change the situation. The only attempt in the 1750s to
educate an Englishman, James Flint, in Chinese and use him as an inter-
preter ended in his expulsion from China by the Chinese authorities.108
After this episode, the EIC officials feared that a further attempt to get
a reliable English interpreter would lead to even more restrictions on
trade. With the lack of linguistic skill, the idea remained that unreliable
and timid interpreters were responsible for a good amount of the

problems faced by the British in Canton.
This situation only changed after 1800. The Macartney embassy had
led to a short increase in interests in Chinese in Britain as well as in
Canton.109 Nevertheless, the lamentation about the lack of knowledge
about China is common to almost all publications on China and the
Chinese language in this period.110 It was seen as a problem concerning
the trade with China, but also to the spread of the Christian faith in it,
and as a danger to national pre-eminence. In 1822, John Francis Davis,
EIC employee and later first governor of Hong Kong, still despaired of
the ‘singular listlessness’ of his countrymen in Canton concerning the
learning of Chinese language and literature. In contrast to this, ‘the
French, for nearly a century before, had been pursuing their research
with diligence and success.’111 Not only did this give them advantages
in the pursuit of knowledge and in contact with China, as John Bar-
row feared, but within the whole region of East Asia, where Chinese was
used as the language of communication.112 Even though the French and
other Catholic nations had this advantage, their accounts could not be
trusted in the eyes of the British. It was seen as the mission of the English
nation to give the first accurate account of the Chinese.113 But for this it
was necessary for Englishmen to learn Chinese, if possible in the coun-
try itself.114 These reflections, together with the Protestant missionary
eagerness to spread the gospel amongst the large population of China in
their native language, led to several attempts to promote the study of the
Chinese language in the early 19th century, primarily in the periphery.
By this point, William Jones had done his groundbreaking studies
on the Indian languages, furthering a new philology. His studies had
been primarily inspired by the need for the British to understand San-
skrit and Hindi and thus to become independent from the presumably
unfaithful native translators in their ruling of Bengal. Since his ideas on
language were to become crucial in shaping British ideas on China and
the Chinese language in the periphery, they are discussed here briefly.
Even before he arrived in India as a judge on the Bengal Supreme
Court, Jones had been an Oriental scholar renowned for his translations
from Arabic and Persian, and his Persian Grammar. Like his contempo-
raries, he considered Latin and Greek to be the most perfect languages,
but in contrast to them he insisted that the Oriental literature also had
something to offer. Consequently, he did not pursue his language stud-
ies in order to add to the philosophical study of language, but rather
to come to a better understanding of Persian and Arabic literature.115
Jones, therefore, as Hans Aarsleff has argued, first attempted to separate
the study of language from the study of the mind, by trying to pay more
attention to detailed knowledge of the different languages before com-
paring them.116 This was already his main idea in his Grammar of the
Persian Language, which he published before he left for India.117 His ‘dis-
covery’ of Sanskrit, which was to become the core of his later influential
theory of language, and a focal point for the study of the relationships of
language and people, was inspired by his work in India.118 He therefore
only developed his comparative philology fully in contrast to etymology
based on conjecture during his stay in Bengal. In relation to the ‘Tartar’
dialects, he stated in his discourse ‘On the Tartars’ that he only lectured
on this topic reluctantly, ‘because I have little knowledge of the Tartarian
dialects; and the gross errours of European writers on Asiatick literature
have long convinced me, that no satisfactory account can be given of
any nation, with whose language we are not perfectly acquainted.’119
Thus, in Jones’s opinion, only etymology that derived from demonstra-
ble facts and came to a posteriori conclusions could produce any reliable
information about the relation of languages and of nations.120
In his reflections on the Chinese however, one can see little of these
ideas of careful investigation. Without having knowledge of the lan-
guage, he attempted to add them to one of the groups of nations he had
developed from his study of language. Relying on Jesuit reports on Chi-
nese religion, law and writing, he argued that they must have received
their religion as well as their letters from the Indians, and that they were
therefore part of the Indo-European family.121 Only later did he modify
his opinion on this issue, claiming that this relation was ‘no more than
highly probable’.122 For the time being, Chinese had escaped the neg-
ative associations which were soon made with languages thought not
to belong to the Indo-European family.123 But even within this new sys-
tem of language families, the Chinese were thought to be uninventive
and unoriginal, a people who had acquired the more sophisticated parts
of its law, religion and writing from another nation. Until the 1830s,
Jones’s ideas about language and its study as a scientific historical tool
had almost no followers in Britain itself but was only picked up on the
Continent, where it influenced the reflections of Herder and Schlegel.124
However, in the periphery of British expansion, the debate about the
connection between Chinese and Sanskrit continued, and Jones’s more
factual approach to the study of language found its adherents. It was
there that the philological study of Chinese by the British began. George
T. Staunton was the first person of whose knowledge of Chinese the
Select Committee made some use. During the temporary absences of
George Thomas Staunton, the Spanish Augustinian, Father Rodriguez,
worked for the Company as interpreter and also taught interested mem-
bers of the factory. In 1807, he was joined by Thomas Manning, who had
tried to study Chinese in England and France but due to lack of oppor-
tunities and the Franco-English hostilities had sought an appointment
with the Factory in Canton. His final goal had been to be employed by
the Imperial Court as an astronomer or physician. His plans however
were frustrated by the anti-Christian sentiment of the Chinese gov-
ernment at the time, and he departed for Bengal and Tibet in 1810.
The gap left by him and the expulsion of Father Rodriguez from China
was filled by Robert Morrison, the first British Protestant missionary to
China.125
Bengal and Southeast Asia became important sites alongside Canton
for learning Chinese and the construction of British knowledge about
the Chinese language. While the British study of Chinese was estab-
lished in different contact zones of the British expansion, the actors
nevertheless stood in constant contact with each other and thus devel-
oped connected ideas on Chinese studies. Not surprisingly, one of the
first influences in the British spheres in India and China on how one
should understand Chinese was William Jones’s ‘new philology’ and the
pre-eminent position of Sanskrit within it.
Following his ‘discourse on the Chinese’, the main protagonists in
the field of Chinese studies from 1790 commented on the connections
between Sanskrit and Chinese. By this they positioned it in relation to
the new triad of ‘original languages’: Sanskrit, Greek and Latin.126 John
Davis did not reject the idea of a Sanskrit influence on Chinese, believ-
ing that the Chinese initials and finals derived from it. For him however
this did not lead to the conclusion that the Chinese language was more
or less a variation of Sanskrit but reaffirmed that it ‘is still the language
of the Chinese’.127 So while Jones still placed Chinese within the Indo-
European language family, the later students of Chinese rejected the
influence of Sanskrit on it, thereby positioning it within the Asian lan-
guages, but also emphasised its singularity. The absolute otherness of
Chinese, and consequently of the people who spoke it, was a predom-
inant feature of the texts written about the Chinese language. Davis
also pointed towards the extraordinary structure of Chinese, as did the
missionary William Milne.128
The idea that Chinese was completely distinct from any other lan-
guage was hardly new. When it was first suggested that the Bible should
be translated into Chinese for missionary purposes, the strongest oppo-
sition was that, due to the nature of the language, it was impossible
to translate.129 The proponents of the plan put forward that the Jesuits
had already translated some parts of the Bible but also pointed out
that the British had been able to translate the letter of King George
III to the Emperor of China. William Moseley, the chief force behind
the project, even suggested that Chinese was easier to learn than any
European language.130 While Chinese remained a ‘peculiar’ language,
different from all others, people in the metropolis, but even more those
in the periphery, who were interested in a growing British influence in
China, constructed a Chinese that was also understandable and possible
to learn. They made clear, however, that for the purpose they wanted to
acquire the knowledge of the language, it could only be learned in the
periphery.131
In Canton, ever since the time of James Flint knowledge of the
Chinese language had been a question of power. Whereas one of the
ideas that gave rise to the foundation of the College of Fort William
had been that the mastery of indigenous languages would make the
British more independent from contact with the corrupting influence
of the Indians,132 in China it was the question of becoming indepen-
dent of the false and corrupted Chinese interpreter and mediator, who
neglected British interests. The more British trade with China grew as
well as British power in the region, and the better acquainted with the
Chinese language they became, the more the British mistrusted Chinese
interpreters. It became a sign of status to provide one’s own interpreters
and translations of official documents. After all, in some cases, this was
the only possibility to submit petitions and complaints to the Chinese
officials as long as Chinese writers were too afraid of possible punish-
ments to translate them for the British. Moreover, as Robert Morrison
pointed out, they suspected that the reason the Chinese insisted on
their own translation was that by this they could ‘put into a foreigner’s
mouth the style of an abject dependant, not merely to feed their vanity,
but that they may treat him as such.’133
Here, as in other circumstances as well, the British soon became
obsessed with the Chinese categories of ranking. As soon as Staunton
and Morrison had learned that there were three kinds of style in
Chinese, ‘a high, a low, and a middle’, this became an important feature
in dealing with Chinese texts or translations into Chinese.134
After lengthy negotiations, John Fullarton Elphinstone, member of
the Select Committee, finally got the concession from the Chinese that
the British would be allowed to submit notes that were translated by
themselves.135 By this, the EIC, and later the second British embassy
to the Court of China tried to prevent ‘wrong’ translations by the
Chinese and the Jesuits. This attitude also meant turning away from the
acceptance of Chinese standards in official correspondence, which had

been guaranteed by the Jesuits, who quite often had been the translators
of such letters.
The importance of this topic can be seen in the example of a dispute
with the Chinese authorities in 1822. It involved a letter to the Hoppo
of Canton with an application to the emperor to remove the duties on
Company goods, which had been destroyed in a fire. Letters, which were
to be presented to the emperor, according to the agreement with the
Chinese authorities, had still to be written in English and be translated
by official translators. The first suggestion of such a letter from the Hong
merchants was refused after a translation from the Chinese by Robert
Morrison. The Select Committee argued that expressions were used in
the letter, which were unnecessary and of which they had disapproved
for a long time. One of the expressions they objected to, was ‘Ee’, or in
pinyin ‘yi’, which the British translated as ‘foreign Barbarians’. George
T. Staunton, they argued, had already replaced this degrading term long
ago with the neutral ‘Yuen Kih’ (visitor or Guest from remote Parts).
Moreover, the use of the phrase ‘the wares of our Barbarian King’ implied
that the king of Great Britain was himself little more than a merchant.
Furthermore, to address the Chinese Emperor as ‘heaven’s grace’ was too
pompous, even by Chinese standards.136
Morrison rejected the wording in the letter, which the Hong mer-
chants had suggested, because he feared it would damage the Chinese
image of the British character. Instead of seeing it as a correct address to
a Chinese official and the Chinese Emperor, he only recognised avarice
and bootlicking. According to his interpretation, the Hong merchant
only wanted to flatter the Hoppo, who himself acted like a slave towards
the emperor. They tried to get the British, with the aspect of financial
gain, to use humiliating phrases and by this ‘the ideas of the Chris-
tian foreigners is perpetuated, which conceives of them, as men lost to
every social and generous feeling, men whose strongest passion is the
love of gain.’137 Exactly this, however, had to be avoided. Melodramatic
Morrison asked in his letter to the Select Committee: ‘shall we sacrifice
character for the sake of gain? If we do sacrifice character and honor
shall we gain more? No, is probably in the first the proper answer. No,
in the second, the true one . . .’138
The Select Committee agreed with Morrison and wrote a letter to the
Hong merchants, in which it represented the relief by the Emperor not
as mercy of the ‘Divine Prince’, but as necessary on the basis of law
and justice. Finally, and here the influence of the missionary/translator
becomes evident: ‘For Princes and statesmen as well as poor people
Natives and Foreigners, all are God’s creatures and all finally accountable
to him.’139
When the Select Committee had to realise that the Hong merchants
did not accept the objections but simply sent the first letter, it became
even more evident how important the representation of the British was
for the Committee. Now everything that was within British possibili-
ties should be done to limit the disastrous impression the letter had to
have at the imperial court, and to represent the British character in the
right way. The Select Committee feared especially that if this practice
could go through further misrepresentations were bound to follow.140 It
was even considered to send a letter from the British dominion in India
via Tibet to Beijing, an option that had not been used so far.141 The
main reason for this activism was certainly the fear that the Chinese
authorities in Canton might worsen the conditions of trade in Canton
and the British would have no possibility to contact Beijing directly
and thus evoke relief or punishment. Communication with the impe-
rial court was however not the only aim. Important was also that the
Chinese had a positive image not just of the EIC but of the British in
general, without which, one feared, the court would never attempt to
improve trading conditions. It has to be remarked, however, that the
British in Canton did not think they could achieve this by complying
with Chinese forms, as they were provided by the Chinese in Canton or
the Jesuit missionaries, but only by behaving according to what they
thought to be the British character and universal norms of conduct.
Any adoption of Chinese terms was seen as a humiliation, which could
only result in weakening the person who used them.
The country merchants also soon considered it important to have
European translators. They often hired the German missionary Karl
Gützlaff to act as their interpreter and in 1830, John Morrison, the son
of Robert Morrison, was appointed translator to the ‘British merchants’
in Canton. The Canton Register expressed the hope that with better com-
munications the conditions of trade in Canton would also improve.142
The Register also continuously debated the question of whether the
Chinese term which was normally translated as ‘Barbarians’ was indeed
an insulting term or not. Like the Select Committee, the British country
merchants were preoccupied with how the language the Chinese used
to address them impacted on their dignity. In a peculiar article, which
mixed evangelicalism and the interests of free trade, it was argued that
the question of what ‘Ee’ or ‘yi’ really means and whether it was offen-
sive was not just a question of philology. The use of such a word was,
on the contrary, ‘pernicious to the welfare of mankind’. For if one used
an offensive word like that to describe someone, one considered him as

inferior and would not hesitate to harm or kill him. Drawing parallels
from the Greek use of the word ‘barbarian’ to the treatment of slaves
and the Africans by Europeans it asked for an immediate stop of the use
of this word.143 The foreigners in Canton were seemingly thus consid-
ered to be in a situation that could be as precarious as that of the African
slaves if they continued to allow the Chinese to call them ‘Barbarians’.
At the same time, the Canton Register did not hesitate to declare that the
Chinese were barbarians and that one should not believe anybody who
ascribed them any degree of civilisation.144
All three groups of Britons in Canton thus hoped to shape their con-
tact with the Chinese more according to their wishes by communicating
with them through the medium of British interpreters. Central to this
question was the issue of British identity and the importance given to
it for the contact situation. Therefore, a change of the language used
for communication from one that the Chinese dictated to one that was
conform to British ideas of contact was important. By doing this the
British hoped to achieve a stronger position towards the Chinese. To get
the command of the Chinese language necessary, the British formed
their own understanding of the nature of Chinese and the way one
could learn it. The major influence in this context was the ‘new philol-
ogy’ developed by Jones in India and the interaction with their Chinese
teachers. This led to the development of a meaning of China as differ-
ent from all other nations, but which could be accessed and influenced
through the knowledge of its language.
As becomes particularly evident in the context of translations, the
Protestant missionaries to China, while small in numbers, had a con-
siderable influence on the EIC’s and country traders’ ideas of China in
the periphery. However, the missionaries were crucial for British ideas of
China not only as interpreters of language but also of Chinese religions.
3.4 A barren land
The religions of China had figured dominantly in European ideas about

China since the start of the Jesuit mission. The Jesuits had claimed that
the ancient Chinese held theist beliefs in one God, which might indi-
cate the direct descendent of the ancient Chinese from the ‘sons of
Noah’. They also introduced the notion of the ‘three religions of China’:
Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism.145 Confucius, according to Jesuit
reading, had reinstated the belief in this ‘Lord of Heaven’ after it had
been lost in the corruption of time. The adherents of deism turned this
argument against the Jesuit intentions and styled Confucius as one of
the best examples for their argument that moral truths only needed rea-
son and the observance of nature, not direct divine revelation through
the Bible.146
The comparative study of religions began, as Peter Harrison has
shown, during the 16th to the 18th century. In this period, the develop-
ment of natural sciences influenced the thinking about religion, which
now developed into an object that could be studied by applying reason.
At the same time, the realisation that a majority of human kind lived
without the revelation of Christianity made the question more urgent
whether all religions had a common Judeo-Christian origin or whether
God simply revealed himself to mankind through nature. This prompted
an increased concern with other religions and their comparison. This
evolution in the context of the religious and political upheavals in
England in the 16th and 17th century meant that ‘the whole compara-
tive approach to religion was directly related to confessional disputes
within Christianity.’147 It was thus common for Protestants to iden-
tify elements of Catholicism with heathen practices in order to criticise
them.148 This was a feature which was still dominant in the approaches
of the Protestant missionaries to foreign religious practices at the end of
the 18th and in the early 19th century. The Judeo-Christian framework
continued to provide the main template for the perception of foreign
religions.
In the 18th century encounter with Asia, the British worked with the
founding premises that Asiatic people were adherents of clearly distin-
guishable religions, each of which was believed to have had a historical
founder, a set of doctrines, sacred texts and priests.149 As the Jesuits,
the Protestant missionaries would look for these elements in the ‘three
Chinese religions’, and judge whether they fulfilled the criteria the
Christian religion set. In this context, in Canton, in particular, the writ-
ings of Confucius were to become important as a presumed ‘Chinese
bible’.
The presence of the Protestant missionaries in the context of the ‘con-
tact zone’ in Canton, brought a new importance of the religious category
for the meaning of China. This is also true for the ‘contact zones’ in
India and Southeast Asia, who however differed with regard to which
Chinese religion was emphasised and in the ways in which the British
saw themselves interacting with this religious meaning.
The first large-scale British Protestant missionary movement devel-
oped at the end of the 18th century was driven by a mixture of
religious beliefs and the growth of the second British Empire.150 The
London Missionary Society (LMS) had been founded in 1795 as a
non-denominational body at first but increasingly became mainly
congregational. Their first goals were the South Sea and India. A mission
to China, however, was also contemplated at a very early stage.
Due to the importance the evangelicals placed on the process of con-
version, the ‘Otherness’ of the Chinese became very significant for this
group, however, it also acquired a different quality. To them, there was
almost no greater difference than that between those who had experi-
enced the personal conversion and those who had not, between a real
Christian and a pagan.151 Thus, the Rev. William Moseley, one of the
first promoters of a translation of the Bible into Chinese as a tool to con-
vert that empire to Christianity, saw China as a highly civilised nation.
Nevertheless, since it was not Christian, it suffered from gross immoral-
ity, sacrificing to idols and murdering children.152 His reasons for the
importance of converting China to Christianity were threefold: First, it
was a perfect object, because it was the most civilised heathen nation
and therefore was ready for conversion and, as it contained nearly one
third of humankind, there was a prospect of an ‘abundant harvest’. Sec-
ondly, converting the Chinese was the only way of saving them from
damnation, and thirdly, conversion was ‘the only method of effectually
securing the advantages of a free trade’.153
This statement clearly shows the two impulses that would drive the
mission to China. On the one hand, there was the religious motiva-
tion, which Brian Stanley has emphasised, such as the importance the
evangelicals attributed to the spread of the gospel, the weakening of the
Calvinist mistrust of any kind of propagating the gospel and the near
coming of the last age of history. Additionally, in Stanley’s opinion, the
revolution in France and the Napoleonic Wars created an atmosphere
in which the apocalyptic strand of the evangelical movement became
even stronger. Thus conversion and salvation of the heathens, who had
had no chance to learn about the saving message of the Gospel, became
even more pressing.154 In a similar way, Andrew Porter has pointed to the
importance of theological considerations and the strong Christian belief
of the missionaries for the development of the British Protestant Mis-
sion. He thus emphasises their ambivalence in engaging directly with
the imperial state, or even their ability to be empire builders.155
The trope of China as a huge kingdom, comprising nearly one
third of humankind made it a high priority on the list of the mis-
sionaries: if only they could convert this country, they would be
a lot closer to their goal of the salvation of all mankind. Even
though this religious motivation was very strong in the context of the
China mission, Moseley’s statement does also point to the fact that
right from the beginning there were also some rather more worldly
considerations.
As Susan Thorne has argued, the missionary movement was not
just a religious movement which found a convenient platform in the
British Empire, but also provided the middle-class with a model of what
they saw as the right way to deal with the newly acquired territories
which had a large non-European population, emphasising morality and
sincerity.156 This book follows Thorne’s argument to the extent that the
missionary movement was deeply connected with the British expan-
sion, not just on an organisational level, but also on an ideological
one.157 In the early period under scrutiny here, the missionaries began to
acknowledge, if sometimes reluctantly, that an engagement with British
imperial or colonial government was difficult to avoid.158 Even if they
tried to distance themselves from the immediate goals and methods
of a colonial government, or even more, the white settlers, they sig-
nificantly contributed to the idea that Britons had a divine duty for
improving and regulating the lives of non-European people. In China,
where no colonial context existed, it was however less a question of how
to justify rule over a foreign population, but rather of showing the right
way to interact with a non-European country. They also established the
idea of a responsibility for the moral well-being of heathens worldwide,
forming an immediate connection between the British Christians and
them. In so doing, they aimed to position themselves in contrast to
those morally dubious people who were merely interested in trade and
strategic questions.
Commerce was not the providential tool of God to spread the Gospel
yet. Rather the spread of the Gospel was there to help British com-
merce. In the evangelical mind, improved commercial relations with
China would only result in benefit for the British, not necessarily for the
Chinese. The moral improvement of the Chinese could only be reached
through their conversion to Christianity.159 The aim of Moseley’s state-
ment therefore was probably to gain support for the mission from those
interested in trade with China and to show that the mission would not
only benefit those who believed in the necessity to save souls. It was
to point out that the evangelical way of interacting with this faraway
empire would bring the solution to a problem the EIC with its mere
interest in trade and the government had failed to solve. As Moseley put
it in a footnote
The many fruitless embassies from Holland, France, Russia and

England, demonstrate the inutility of flattery, presents, and intreaty.
These have for centuries past been tried in vain. And their laws and
customs are such that unless Christianity illuminate their minds,
they may be tried for as many centuries more, with no better
effect.160
When Robert Morrison, the first Protestant missionary, arrived in Can-

ton on an American ship on 20 April 1807, he had already learned some
Chinese in London, from a Chinese stranded there. Morrison seems to
have been full of enthusiasm when he reached his destination. Accord-
ing to William Milne, his first step consisted of trying to live like the
‘natives’. He let his fingernails grow, wore Chinese dress, shoes and ‘tail’
and ate with chopsticks.161
Nevertheless, he soon abandoned this project of assimilation and
together with it the hope to be admitted to the Chinese Court at Beijing
as a natural scientist.162 The explanation he gave was that the Chinese
had grown too suspicious of Europeans who did not dress and act like
the European merchants, so he adopted the common European dress
in Canton – a white jacket and a straw hat.163 This change of clothes
however also signified the transformation in Morrison away from an
18th century idea about China as a cultivated nation that valued educa-
tion and philosophers. He now favoured the idea of a China that, even
though still civilised, was dearly in need of being rescued by the British
in almost every aspect, and which was corrupt and ruled by a despot,
rather than by philosophers and a benevolent monarch. Morrison even
thought that the former Chinese taste for European science and philos-
ophy had to them only been ‘a rare-show: and I should suppose that
they are now quite tired of it’.164 Additionally, the China that Morrison
now encountered was one that did not permit the missionary to assim-
ilate himself to a certain degree, in contrast to what he seems to have
expected from the Jesuit accounts and to what he deemed appropriate
for a missionary.
The circumstances of the ‘contact zone’ in Canton thus began to
transform the missionary ideas of China. The missionaries now had
to negotiate the way they attributed meaning to China with the dif-
ferent groups of Chinese they encountered and the representatives of
the British there. A British-centred missionary monologue about China
was no longer possible. First of all, as a British subject, Morrison was
under the power of the EIC Select Committee in Canton, which did not
really rejoice in the presence of a missionary there, whose actions could
disturb the Chinese authorities at Canton.
With the EIC, Morrison found an arrangement thanks to his interest

in and later his knowledge of the Chinese language.165 With the help of
George T. Staunton and John William Roberts, the President of the Select
Committee in 1808, Morrison gradually became accepted by the EIC in
Canton, resulting in his appointment as translator for the Company in
1809.166
After several attempts, Morrison succeeded in hiring Chinese servants
and Chinese teachers, two Roman Catholic Chinese.167 His teachers and
servants were the only ones Morrison could interact with freely since
the EIC did not want him to preach openly and thus maybe draw the
rage of the Chinese authorities on him. His teachers were thus the most
important persons for informing Morrison’s view on China, the Chinese
and the Chinese language.
Morrison established a daily rhythm of worship, holding services at
home and reading the Bible together with his Chinese aides, thus trying
to create an environment similar to the one he knew from home.168 Even
though he had clearly been sent to China to learn Chinese and translate
the Bible, both he and the supporters of the LMS at home seem to have
expected nevertheless that he would still act like every other of their
missionaries, preaching and trying to gain converts.169
Evangelicals like Robert Morrison, shaped by Enlightenment ideas,
tried to win their converts by rational discussions as they were con-
vinced that every rational being, if it only knew about Protestant
Christianity, had to accept it as the only possible way of life.170 Both
aspects required the missionary to have contact and especially to inter-
act with those defined as ‘the Others’ to whom he had been sent.
However, it was only with his Chinese teachers and servants that
Morrison was able to get into closer contact in this way. Even though
they were seen as distinct and different, due to their religion,171 they
were mainly presented as equals with whom one could conduct a ratio-
nal discussion.172 It was only when they refused to accept the wisdom
presented to them that Morrison described them as irrational, arrogant
and stubborn. Whereas in the run-up to the China mission it had been
seen as an asset that China was already a civilised country and thus
prepared to receive Christianity, Morrison now saw it as a defect. This
was a typical stance of the evangelicals in Britain, who saw intelligence
as a hindrance of feeling, which was however needed to experience
faith.173 He thus wrote after one of the discussions with his servants
and Chinese teacher on religion, during which he had failed to con-
vince them: ‘The people here possess much worldly wisdom – much
self conceit: they are too wise to learn: they are full of deceit and
guile.’174
In order to convert the Chinese, Morrison and his fellow missionary
Milne started to print tracts for the distribution to the Chinese. In these
tracts, they tried to translate Christianity for the Chinese, explaining
the historical context of the Bible and the meaning of Christianity, thus
trying to span the gap between the world of the Old Testament and the
newly rediscovered areas. Morrison planned amongst others, a Com-
mentary to the New Testament in the ‘same manner as those on the
books of Confucius’, ‘An abridgement of the Gospel History and plant-
ing of Churches in the first ages’, ‘A volume of Dialogues – with a man
worshipping at the tomb of his ancestors; with a priest in a temple, with
a person newly converted on the reasons of his change of faith etc.’175
Milne even prepared a tract, tailor made for the perceived image of the
Chinese as even greater sinners than the rest of human kind.176
Nevertheless, the idea of equality before God meant that Chinese
who adopted Christianity, could become members of one worldwide
Christian community. The letters of the first Chinese convert, Liang
Fa, printed in the Missionary Chronicle, tried to produce the idea of a
worldwide Christian community, thus making the Chinese less foreign.
The insertion of Chinese ‘translations’ of concepts such as ‘venerable
teachers’ for ‘teachers of the Gospel in England and elsewhere’, would
however still underline the otherness of this people who were to be
converted.177
Despite these attempts to reach a wider public through the printed
word, the restrictions imposed by the Chinese as well as by the EIC pre-
vented Morrison from interacting with the Chinese in the way and to
the extent he seems to have deemed as appropriate for a missionary.
He could argue about religion with his Chinese aides, but he could not
distribute the Bible to the Chinese masses or preach to them openly.
He saw himself as the ‘servant’ of the heathens,178 who however refused
‘seeking to know what they shall do to be saved’. With the exception of
very few converts, the Chinese could thus not be characterised as a peo-
ple who was glad to accept the humanitarian benevolence of the British.
Morrison described them as degenerated heathens, in dichotomy to the
good evangelical Christians. The failure of the Chinese in Canton and
Macao to interact with Morrison in the way he had expected and to
take on the role assigned to them in the missionary worldview made
it impossible to familiarise them and include them in the ‘members of
the one family of Christ’.179 This failure may have been partly because
they saw no reason for engaging with this foreign religion as well as the
persecutions of Christianity by the Chinese Empire180 and partly because

of the institutional barriers which prevented regular direct contact. This
resulted in frustration on Morrison’s side and made it impossible for him
to ascertain his self-image as a missionary of the only right belief, which
would eagerly be accepted.
This seems to have led to a feeling of isolation which he often men-
tioned in his letters.181 Thus he wrote to the LMS headquarters, for
example,
Yours is a happy land. It abounds with all the means of instruction,

edification and comfort which a Christian can desire. Far different
are our circumstances abroad. You look around you and rejoice in
thousands on thousands assembled this day to praise God and hear
of his great salvation. Here millions are wandering as sheep without
a shepherd. None cares for the soul of his brother and few care for
their own182
The arrival of the missionaries in the ‘contact zones’ meant that they
acquired a new legitimacy to speak about Chinese religions and to cre-
ate knowledge about them. William Milne thus, for example, dismissed
the information provided by the European literati about China, since
these writers had not judged the nations of the East through Christian
eyes,183 and thus they had not been able to come to a really valid inter-
pretation and judgement of them. This was despite the fact that the
Protestant missionaries seem to have silently used the Jesuit reports in
their description of, for example, the ‘three religions’, or even that most
Europeans reports about China were based on Christian, albeit Catholic
missionary accounts.
This new legitimacy to speak about Chinese religion, and even more
important, the Chinese reaction to the Christian mission, placed further
emphasis on the alleged moral corruptness of the Chinese and especially
its government, and also opened a new platform on which to discuss the
question of the rank of Chinese civilisation.184 Even more importantly,
it brought a new definition of the relation between British and Chinese.
As we have already seen, as in the context of Morrison’s advice to the
Select Committee, this was defined by the idea of the brotherhood of
man and the equality before God, but also by the gap between those
who were true believers and those who were not.
The firm belief of the evangelicals in the importance of the perso-
nal experience of conversion, made it impossible for them to con-
template a mission strategy of accommodation like the Jesuits had
practiced. Accordingly, they had no interest in understanding any

aspect of Chinese worship and tradition as an original monotheism
or as a philosophical tradition that could be accepted to co-exist with
Christianity.
Thus, Robert Morrison, as well as William Milne, turned particularly
against Confucius. They attempted to make sense of the Chinese reli-
gions by adopting the three main categories that had already been used
by the Jesuits: Buddhism, Taoism and Confucianism, but saw them all
as equally bad expressions of heathenism and idolatry. After one of the
typical discussions with his aides about Confucianism, Buddhism and
Taoism, Morrison concludes, for example: ‘The two sects did not pay
sufficient attention to morals, and Kung-fu-tsi neglected religion, but
Jesus united them both in their highest perfection.’185 William Milne’s
verdict after reading the Four Books by Confucius was even harsher,
emphasising the need of a religion of salvation for men.
These books are the Bible of the Chinese. But alas! After having read
and examined them repeatedly with tolerable care, from beginning
to end, how little can be discovered illustrative of the perfections
of deity! How little suited to the state of man as an immortal crea-
ture! Scarcely a sentence adapted to his condition as a sinner! Even
in point of morals, though there is much that is good; much that is
beautifully expressed; yet how defective, and how ill suited to con-
duct men to virtue and to happiness! With respect to futurity they
leave man entirely in the dark.186
Since Confucian doctrines were not a divine revelation, nor did they
claim to be one, Confucianism could not be a good religion. As a mere
philosophical guide to life in society they lacked the necessary moral-
ity and prospect of the eternal salvation of the soul, something that
was only provided by the Christian religion. Thus Confucianism did
not prevent idolatry but rather helped it flourish.187 Furthermore, the
missionaries also described Christianity as the only religion that could
make men valuable members of the society in this life.188 Thus, Milne
vehemently rejected the opinion of one Chinese that all religions are
more or less the same. The only true religion, he emphasised, was the
Christian one189 and there was no way to a happy, fulfilled and moral life
without it. This was certainly directed against the deists, Unitarians and
anti-religious thinkers back in Europe, but also clearly made the Chinese
the ‘Other’ (together with the European Unitarians), and described them
per definition as an amoral people.
Morrison and Milne also refuted that ‘T’een’ was an appropriate trans-
lation for ‘God’, since, they argued, the Chinese used this term for the
Supreme Being, but also for heaven in opposition to earth.190 This was
a clear rejection of the Jesuit arguments, who had interpreted ‘T’een’
as remainder of the idea of one god. The Protestant missionaries, quite
in contrast to the accommodation ideas, also founded an ‘Ultra-Ganges
Missionary Union’, which, besides mutual support and the support of
the missionary school system, was also supposed to ‘give our mutual
testimony against errors in doctrine or worship, which may creep in.’191
The idea of China as a foreign and amoral society was strengthened
when the missionaries observed and reported the religious practices of
the Chinese. In these observations, the Christian tradition served as the
framework according to which Chinese religious practices were to be
judged. The lack of a priest preaching a sermon to the crowds disturbed
them greatly, as well as the lack of a community participating in the
service. To their eyes, everyone seemed to worship his idol individu-
ally, seemingly without any deeper involvement, and especially without
forming a union with the other worshipers. Thus Morrison revealed his
shock in his first published report to the LMS headquarters: ‘There is
nothing social in their worship, nor any respect shewn by those who
are not engaged. One is praying, another is talking and laughing, a third
cleaning utensils & &.’192
This non-existence of a service comprising a priest and a sermon was
not only seen as a lack of respect of faith, or its sincerity, but was also
considered to be an explanation and reason for the Chinese despotic
political regime, which seemed to place so much importance on the
ranking of its officials. When Robert Morrison reported to Dr. Burder, in
the LMS headquarters, on the embassy to China he had accompanied,
he mentioned what he saw as a ridiculous insistence of the Chinese
concerning who was allowed to sit and who was not at an official meet-
ing. In England, he continued, these things were much more relaxed,
because of the Protestant religion, and the services in which the sermons
reminded the people of equality after life.193 The despotic government,
the inequality of its inhabitants and their amoral behaviour such as
lying and cheating were thus all traced back to a lack of the right reli-
gion. The missionaries thus made sense of what they observed according
to their religious background, forming a meaning of China as a place in
dire need for salvation through Christ.
In Morrison’s and Milne’s view, a reform of society towards more free-
dom always had to start with the moral improvement of the individual
members of society through a real conversion to Christianity. This was
in their eyes true for Britain as well as China. Expressing this point of
view, William Milne stated the importance of a mission to China
For, notwithstanding that various attempts had been made, in differ-

ent periods of the church, to introduce the Gospel into that country
[China, U.H.], still the thick shades of Pagan darkness hung over its
immense population, who, to the present hour, have neither tasted
the sweets of political freedom, nor beheld the reviving beams of the
Sun of Rightneousness.194
Morrison compared China with a ‘barren land’, a ‘desert’ in contrast

to the ‘fruitful plains of British Israel’, which could only become fertile
again through the help of the British missionaries.195 China is described
by the missionaries as an awful country – infertile, dark and the land of
Satan,196 and thus set in stark contrast to a positive image of the evangel-
ical Britain. However, one should not forget that for the missionaries in
particular, China was not necessarily fixed in this state, thus not com-
pletely the ‘Other’, but rather resembled an earlier state of Britain. As
Robert Morrison put it
However, this [the state of China] does not induce me to despair;

I remember Britain – what she was, and what she now is, in respect
of religion. It is not 300 years since national authority said that ‘the
Bible should not be read openly in any church’ by the people, not pri-
vately by the poor – that only noblemen and gentlemen, and noble
ladies and gentlewomen might have the Bible in their houses.’ –
I remember this, and cherish hope for China.197
When the evangelicals in the metropolis first thought about a mission

to China, they already created it as a space set apart from their own com-
munity by its lack of faith, but they still believed that it was civilised and
would react positively to the message they wanted to give them. Apart
from that, it was seen as the unknown other. When the first missionaries
arrived in China they formed new knowledge about China, especially its
religion. In their attempt to fit China into the cultural frame they knew,
they created the idea of an extremely heathen China, describing all the
negative effects that came with this lack of faith. From their experiences
in the contact zone and the knowledge they could accumulate there,
the missionaries created a China whose inhabitants suffered under a
despotic system and their adherence to idolatry. Due to the lack of the
right religion, they had corrupted morally to the point where they even
refused to accept the saving religion presented to them.198
To acknowledge the benefits of the Chinese religions or philoso-
phy, as the Jesuits had partly done and which some Enlightenment
philosophers had picked up on so eagerly, was impossible to the British
missionaries. And, in contrast to other writers who had stated the degen-
erating state of Chinese art and science, for example, the benevolent
Christian could not suffer to leave the Chinese in this state of dark-
ness and let them die a spiritual death. Where the EIC was still mainly
concerned with questions of trade, law and sovereignty, the mission-
aries desperately sought a possibility to improve the moral well-being
of the Chinese and make them better human beings. In this way, the
British saw themselves as being as responsible for the well-being of the
Chinese as for that of their dependent population in India or the English
poor at home. This was based on the firm belief that trade for mutual
benefit was not the only relationship the British should establish with
non-European populations, and that there is a responsibility, which is
not intrinsically linked and restricted to the exercise of political or eco-
nomic power over these peoples. Rather it was a moral influence that
was wanted and the acknowledgement of one’s own world view even
by those over whom one did not rule. Through their links with the EIC
merchants in Canton and Morrison’s official position as a translator,
this view of China had a significant influence on the Select Committee’s
attitudes to China in the long run.
3.5 Diplomacy and local knowledge
In 1815, the EIC lost its monopoly for trade with India. In addition
to the direct effects this had on the Indian trade, it also resulted in
a new influx of country traders into the China market. The country
traders who came now were more certain of their position. After all,
their associates in Britain had already won one great battle against
the monopoly of the Company.199 Additionally, the great war against
Napoleonic France was over, and with it the insecurity on the oceans.
During the war, the British had attempted to occupy Macao, allegedly to
save it from French attack, but had to hand it back to the Portuguese in
the end. Now, the China trade was still an unsolved problem, one that
had increasing importance for the EIC, both as an economic investment
and a method to remit the money back from its government in India.
John Barrow thus deemed the time to be right to push for another
embassy to the Emperor of China. In addition, a new embassy could give
Barrow’s former pupil, protégée and friend, George Thomas Staunton,

the assignment of a lifetime, that of an ambassador to China. In his anal-
ysis of the failure of the Macartney embassy, John Barrow emphasised in
his letter to the Earl of Buckinghamshire, then President of the Board of
Control, the lack of faithful, British translators as one of the fundamen-
tal causes. He even described ‘Mr. Plumb’, the Chinese convert who had
translated for Macartney as a Catholic, who did not want or dare to
really help the ‘Heretics’. Now, however, in George Thomas Staunton
Britain had somebody who had a good command of the Chinese lan-
guage, ‘an advantage which can only be duly appreciated by those who
have had the mortification of experiencing the intrigues and chicanery
which are put in practice when communications are to be held with this
jealous and corrupt Government through the intervention of Catholic
missionaries.’200
During the ensuing correspondence, the Court of Directors as well as
the Select Committee supported the idea of another embassy. The events
surrounding the affair of the British capture of the American war ship
‘Doris’ culminated in a situation where the Select Committee wanted a
clear signal showing that they had the full support of their sovereign.
The Court of Directors had an obvious strong interest in the stability
of its only remaining monopoly trade, and Chinese support for their
American competitors during the Doris affair was worrying. Further-
more, they were afraid that a recent British expedition against Nepal
might have caused animosity at the Chinese Court. They suggested that
not Staunton should become ambassador, but rather an envoy from
Britain, who was unknown to the Chinese and thus in their eyes clearly
not associated with trading activities.201 For the British government, the
public revenue derived from the tea imports was the main incentive to
try another embassy to secure this lucrative trade.202
The choice for the ambassador fell on Lord William Amherst. George
Thomas Staunton, like his father, only became the second man of the
embassy, Minister Plenipotentiary, who in the case of the death of
the ambassador would succeed to his position. As with the Macartney
embassy, the idea of a more or less enlightened monarch on the Chinese
throne, who did not know about the corruption and oppression in
Canton, was crucial. The letter from the Prince Regent to the Emperor of
China again used the language of equality and reciprocity, with which
friendly relations between the two countries should be established.
However, this time the Emperor of China was no longer addressed as ‘the
Supreme Emperor of China’, ‘worthy to live tens of thousands and tens
of thousands Years’,203 but simply as ‘high mighty and glorious Prince
the Emperor of China our Brother and cousin’,204 not even making an
attempt to satisfy Oriental sentiments.
Interestingly, in times of free trade rhetoric in Britain, the EIC did
not ask for an increase of British imports into China. By this time, the
bullion question was already solved to a large extent by the country
trade and the import of opium. Rather, they hoped for a stabilisation
of the present situation, a guarantee of all the privileges they already
possessed.205 The British government however added to the original
proposal of the directors that every opportunity should be taken to
enquire how the consumption of British manufactures in China could
be increased.206
The model for the embassy was clearly the Macartney embassy, and
again the British government left it open to the ambassador how he
would deal with the kowtow question, while they hoped he could follow
the Macartney precedent.207 In contrast to the first embassy, which had
avoided every association with the EIC in Canton, the Amherst embassy
took several of the British subjects from there on board. Most notably
George T. Staunton, who at the time was President of the Select Com-
mittee. In order to relieve Staunton from the duties of a translator if
necessary, Robert Morrison, John Davis and Francis Toone joined the
embassy.208 After hesitations, the Select Committee also allowed Thomas
Manning to become part of the group.209
These were all people who had lived in Canton for years and had
experienced several clashes with the local authorities, as well as good
social contact with some Chinese, like the Hong merchants and Chinese
teachers. From their minority position, they had developed the theory
that the only way to acquire any concessions from the Chinese was
to make clear that the British were a powerful nation who would not
bow to them. They also, due to their knowledge of Chinese, considered
themselves to be ‘China experts’ who understood the history, rules and
customs of the Chinese people and the Qing government. This was espe-
cially true for Staunton, who after all was the only one who had been
a member of the first embassy as well. It is argued in this chapter that
the influence of this group with what was considered to be local inside
knowledge was crucial to the development of the embassy. The issues
and influences outlined above, such as the question of language, law
and the role of the missionary, were thus integral to the embassy.
As with the Macartney embassy, the kowtow question again played a
central role in the negotiations with the Chinese after the landing of the
embassy in China and figured as the main concern in the later publica-
tion of journals by the members of the embassy. In contrast to the first
embassy, where Macartney seems to have decided mainly on his own

how to proceed, Amherst became the object of conflicting advice on this
issue by George T. Staunton and Henry Ellis as second and third com-
missioners. While Ellis also had been in Asia before, mainly in India and
Persia,210 he made a point of adopting the position of the Court of Direc-
tors and the British government towards the kowtow question. It seems
to be that for them, at least at the outset of the embassy, the kowtow
was a possibility, if the ambassador could gain concessions in return. It
was probably still fresh in their memory that the Russian embassy under
Gavril Golovkin had been sent home in disgrace without even reaching
Beijing because they had not been willing to kowtow.211 Ellis’s argument
was that China had already sunk so low that whatever ceremony the
British adhered to at the audience did not really matter. Since China
was no longer a civilisation of equal rank to the British, it could hardly
diminish its dignity:
The ceremony, consisting of nine prostration, though not formerly

without example in Europe [footnote on Byzantine U.H.], was cer-
tainly repugnant to individual feeling and to the practice of modern
European courts; at the same time, viewed as an usage belonging to
oriental barbarism, it could scarcely be deemed advisable to sacrifice
the more important objects of the embassy to any supposed mainte-
nance of dignity, by resisting upon such a point of etiquette, in such
a scene.212
Staunton, in contrast, advised Amherst to stay firm on the kowtow ques-

tion and not submit to it under any circumstances. He supported his
argument with his knowledge and experience of the Chinese character:
A kowtow would only be ‘a sacrifice of national credit and character’
without any benefit to be gained.213 Ellis attributed this position prob-
ably correctly to Staunton’s experience in Canton, which he deemed
not transferable to the question of the audience with the Emperor of
China. Where the EIC in Canton could use the stoppage of trade as an
instrument in the power struggle, which had an immediate effect on
the interests of the local merchants and government, their position in
Beijing would be a lot weaker. Therefore, Ellis urged conciliation, since
the only prospect of success for the embassy was to make a favourable
impression on the Emperor. If it was necessary to adopt the strange
customs of the court, then this had to be done.214 He nevertheless
acknowledged Staunton’s local expertise and conceded that in every
aspect concerning the Chinese character and usages Staunton clearly
could have the last word.215 Similarly, during his description of the nego-
tiations with the Chinese on the kowtow question he often referred
to the way in which Staunton and Morrison formulated British con-
cepts and demands as being agreeable to Chinese customs.216 In the end,
Amherst followed the local advice and refused to kowtow.217
During the negotiations on the kowtow question, the Macartney
embassy was frequently cited as a precedent. And whereas during the
Macartney embassy both sides were able to interpret the solution they
had found the way they deemed appropriate, during the Amherst
embassy the differing ideas on the meaning of the ceremonial during the
audience came to the forefront and had to clash. Amherst and the mem-
bers of his embassy insisted that Macartney had never kowtowed. On the
other side, the Chinese asserted that he had submitted to the Manchu
ceremony.218 After all, as Hevia has shown, as far as the Qing officials
were concerned, the alteration of the kowtow during the Macartney
embassy had not changed the meaning of the ceremony as such.219
The Chinese insistence on a fact which the British clearly assumed to
be false irritated them highly and made every further interaction inse-
cure. The only way the British could understand this was by seeing their
stereotype of Chinese falseness reaffirmed. This breakdown in trust then
influenced all engagements with the Chinese during the embassy and
figured large in the reports.220 A combination of the strong position on
the kowtow question by Staunton and the assumption that any claim
made by the Chinese which deviated from Macartney’s account was
a lie, and made because lying was part of the Chinese nature, led to
the complete failure of the embassy. Amherst reached Beijing on the
morning of the 29th August and was told that the emperor immedi-
ately wanted to see him. When he declined this on the grounds that he
was not feeling well and the rest of his entourage had not yet arrived,
the emperor commanded that the embassy had to leave immediately,
without an audience.221
For the Jiajing Emperor, this was probably the only logical conclu-
sion he could draw. For the Qing officials, the insistence not to kowtow
and Amherst’s pledge for illness in order to avoid the hurried reception
were indications that he did not understand proper ceremonial rela-
tions. The emperor thus accepted the gifts from George III and in his
letter to the English king attributed the failure of the embassy to the
lack of understanding and sincerity of the ambassador.222 Further, the
emperor had just survived an assassination attempt and the rebellion by
a group that called itself the Eight Trigrams. He was probably aware of
the problems the British occasionally caused in Canton.223 The refusal
by the British to comply with the ceremony, and their insistence on

an apparent lie, probably had in the eyes of the emperor removed any
belief that the embassy might be a sincere expression by the British king
of his acknowledgement of the Qing overlordship, or even a peaceful
intention towards the Qing Empire.
For the British, the failure to even gain an audience with the emperor
meant that this time the non-achievement of the goals of the embassy
could hardly be attributed simply to intrigues by the Canton officials
and the Mandarins. These were however not excluded from the expla-
nation. The idea that in an Oriental despotic government, no inferior
would dare to tell his superior an unpleasant truth to the point that
falseness became their second nature was used to account for the failure.
Drawing on the edict issued by the Jiajing Emperor after the return of the
embassy, it was clear to the British that ‘Duke Ho’ who had been respon-
sible for the embassy had failed to report the intention of Amherst not
to kowtow to the emperor in time.224
The main result of the embassy however was the complete break-
down of the idea of the rational and enlightened Chinese monarch,
who would remove the grievances of British trade if only he knew about
them. In his letter to George Canning about the failure of the embassy,
Amherst draws a picture of an unreliable monarch, different in every
aspect from the dignified accounts of Qianlong:
I shall have to substitute a detail (as far as I shall enter into it) of
hurry and confusion, of irregularity and disorder, of insult, inhuman-
ity, and almost of personal violence, sufficient to give to the court of
the Emperor Kia-King the manners, character, and appearance of the
raving camp of a Tartar Horde.225
The emperor had lost his image as an enlightened Chinese Emperor and
transformed himself into an uncivilised Tartar. This was a characterisa-
tion of the Court and the Emperor every other member of the embassy
subscribed to as well.226 In addition to the characterisation of Jiajing as
a weak and corrupt oriental despot, Amherst saw the reason for the fail-
ure of the embassy as resulting from the eternal characteristics of China’s
foreign policy. Since, until the arrival of the British, the Chinese in their
history never had to deal with an equal or superior power, they had nat-
urally become arrogant and would not even change this attitude and
the policies resulting from this if they were conscious of their weakness
and afraid of the other power.227 Falseness and arrogance as unchanging
characteristics of the Chinese thus hindered in his eyes the free and fair
intercourse the upright Briton wanted to establish, for the best of both
sides.228 Again, China was depicted as refusing to leave its self-chosen
isolation.
In contrast to this negative image of the Chinese, Amherst and his
colleagues could represent the British in a positive light as steadfast and
upright. The mortification of virtually being kicked out of the Chinese
Empire without even an audience was turned by them into a triumph of
Britishness. Staunton explained to the Court of Directors, for example,
but subject to these unlooked for disadvantages I apprehend no

Event could have been better calculated to make an impression on
the Chinese, beneficial to the British Character and Interests than
the splendid example of firmness and motivation which under cir-
cumstances of the most trying nature, the conduct of the British
ambassador has exhibited and which, I trust, it may be permitted me
to add, is in perfect unison with those principles of conduct which
were adopted at Canton during the preceding discussions.229
The idea of China which the Select Committee had developed in Canton
seemed to be legitimised by the occurrences of the Amherst embassy.
The image of a China with which one could negotiate and establish rela-
tions on an equal basis had disappeared. Where the Macartney embassy
had created the idea of direct state to state contact with China, which
only had to be followed up, its successor had destroyed the possibility of
even thinking of such a relation for the time being. As a consequence,
the Select Committee of the EIC in Canton once more saw them-
selves as the sole representation of British interests in China. They also
found themselves reassured in the attitude they increasingly developed
towards the Chinese authorities, which was less based on diplomatic
negotiations, appealing to reason, but more on the demonstration of
power and the conviction that the idea of British greatness had to be
brought home to the Chinese.
3.6 Trade and identity
Following the failure of the Amherst embassy, the EIC remained the only
effectual representative of British interests in Canton, while the growing
trade, particularly the country trade and opium smuggling, increased
the tension between the British and the Chinese authorities. The last
years of the EIC monopoly on the China trade were marked by con-
flict with the Cantonese authorities. The idea that relations with the
Chinese could only be changed by a show of strength on the British part

became predominant. British identity and its acceptance by the Chinese
authorities became even more important during these years.
Robert Travers has recently pointed out that in India, the British
mainly defined themselves in opposition to ‘Asian despotism’, while in
the metropolis, the main point of reference for British identity was the
opposition to France, absolutism and Catholicism. He argued that it was
from this identity that the EIC employees in India drew their justifica-
tion for conquest in India in order to free the Indians from the Asiatic
despotism they were living under.230 In India, the main focus was the
expansion of the power of the EIC. In Canton, ideas regarding Asian
despotism and particularly the corruption and falseness of the Chinese
were at the forefront of the image in contrast to which the British sought
to define themselves.
It was considered crucial for the interaction between the British and
the Chinese to establish the ‘right’ image of Britain in Chinese minds.
References to British national characteristics are abundant in the let-
ters the EIC Select Committee sent back to the headquarters in London.
Britishness was mainly defined in terms of an upright and steadfast
character and as morally incorruptible. A key element of this identity
was the dignity of the British monarch and the strength of the British
nation in military and trade matters. While the question of identity had
been strong throughout the British presence in Canton, its importance
increased during the 1820s and 1830s. More aggressive trading interests
were linked to feelings of national honour and a rhetoric of national
dignity was now used to justify an ever-increasing aggressive attitude
towards the Chinese authorities in Canton.
This shift was partly due to the fact that during the final years of
the EIC monopoly of the China trade, the so-called country merchants
became more influential in Canton. Despite the fact that they were
British subjects, they were not under the control of the EIC and devel-
oped a different understanding of China, which could conflict with the
meaning assigned to it by EIC servants.
Like the employees of the EIC in Canton, the British country mer-
chants belonged to a transnational trading network, connecting Britain,
India, China and Southeast Asia. The trading houses, which set them-
selves up in Canton from the 1800 onwards were firmly connected
to the East India Agency Houses. Most of them were of Scottish
origin, working within a network of Scottish families.231 Their eco-
nomic interests required a better way of importing into China, which
connected them with the interests of British manufactures, and like
them they found the advocates of their case in the works of Smith,
Bentham and Mill.
At first, the country trade and the EIC trade at Canton complemented
each other. The country trade provided the EIC with the money neces-
sary to replace the problematic bullion. In return, the EIC acted as bank
for the country merchants by issuing bills on London for them. With
the increase of the country trade, however, the country merchants like
Jardine and Matheson developed interests which could not be satisfied
by cooperation with the EIC.232
The position of the country traders in Canton was characterised by
more insecurity than that of the EIC members. Due to the monopoly
of the EIC they were not officially allowed to be there in the first
place. Most of them thus came with ‘adopted nationalities’, as did,
for example, James Matheson as Danish consul or Thomas Beal as
Prussian.233 They also did not have the financial, military and admin-
istrative backing which the Select Committee was provided with by the
EIC. Consequently, it was even more important for them to define them-
selves as British (despite their adopted nationalities) in order to qualify
for support by the British crown. As a way of improving their knowl-
edge base, they set up one of the first English journals on the Chinese
coast, the Canton Register.234 In this periodical, they exchanged trading
news, but also used it to justify their breaking of Chinese law by depict-
ing the Chinese as an immoral and cruel people.235 With the Register
they also attempted to establish themselves as the only authoritative
source of knowledge about China and the Chinese character: ‘Much
error has been propagated in the world, by the superficial information
sent forth by those who can only look on the surface of society; and who
see men only in a sort of Holiday dress.’236 They supported the veracity
of their view of China by quoting ‘native informants’ or ‘old veteran
Chinese’ as authorities as well as emphasising their local knowledge.237
In several cases, they corrected reports on China published in other
European or Strait magazines by pointing out that due to their resi-
dence in China they were the only ones who had access to the correct
information.238
While in many respects the country merchants profited from the
Hong system in Canton, they were also more likely to come into conflict
with it. Since they were not allowed to trade tea back to Europe, their
main trade was cotton and, increasingly, opium export from India into
China. However, the first could hardly be sold in China and the second
was contraband. The opium trade led to a range of different contacts
between the free traders and the local Chinese in contrast to those of the
EIC. The opium trade mainly took place at Macao and increasingly after
1821 at ‘outer anchorages’, such as the island of Lintin. They further
traded by way of ‘outside’ merchants, called ‘shopmen’ who originally
were only supposed to sell small items to the foreigners. To open new
markets, Matheson and Jardine started to send ships up the coast for
clandestine trade.239 On these trips, the crew was sometimes accompa-
nied by the German Protestant missionary Karl Gützlaff, who worked as
a translator and who used the opportunity to spread Christian tracts in
other parts of China. The trade as well as the missionary activity were
clandestine operations which had to rely on the goodwill of the Chinese
population. Attacks by local Chinese were thus more easily provoked
and also more dangerous to their trade than they were for the EIC.
The outrage about the annual proclamations by the Viceroy warning
the local population against the vices of the foreigners was therefore
far greater amongst the country merchants than it was amongst EIC
employees. Moreover, the country traders tended to view the Hong mer-
chants as the problem in the interaction with the local authorities rather
than as good trading partners.240 At the same time, they showed lit-
tle moral scruples at selling a drug like opium. As the Canton Register
argued, it depended only on human virtue whether or not the buyer
would abuse the drug, not on whether or not it was supplied.241
The country merchants argued that it was only Chinese pride and
other ‘evil passions’ which had formed such an unnatural exclusion
from trade and, even more, from social intercourse with all other
nations.242 Consequently, they demanded, echoed in the Canton Regis-
ter, a far more aggressive policy against this evil, irrational and unnatural
government than large parts of the EIC. The Select Committee, after
all, still advocated simply reforming the Hong and were often hesitant
to take actions against the Chinese officials. At this point, however,
even the country traders did not yet support a war against China to
‘open’ it up for trade. Rather, the contributors to the Canton Register
seem to have been infected by the missionary spirit of the evangelicals
with whom they were in close contact; although instead of spreading
the Bible, they wanted to acquaint the Chinese with the prophets of
free trade and Utilitarianism. In response to a pamphlet by Lieutenant
Colonel de Lacy Evans, who had argued in favour of a military attack
to open up China, they called ‘for a few hundred Utilitarians, and Polit-
ical Economists, with a dozen steam presses, to cast off a few millions
of Pamphlets, in Chinese, on the greatest happiness principle, and the
principles of free Trade’.243 However, one of the subsequent issues stated
that after consulting a few texts by Adam Smith, Malthus, M’Culloch
and Mill, these were found to be too much confined to the European
context and examples to be simply translated. Therefore, the Canton
Register called for somebody to write an essay targeted at a Chinese audi-
ence, keeping in mind that ‘a high regard for honor and morals is not
compatible with the pursuit of wealth either individual or national’ in
Chinese philosophy.244
With the contraband opium trade, the Indian agency houses and
their counterparts on the China coast gained an increasing stake in
this illegal trade, firmly connecting the British presence in both regions.
With their growing economic power the country traders also exerted
increasing pressure on the EIC to work for a change in trading condi-
tions at Canton.245 At the same time, their trade aggravated tensions
with the Chinese government, which increasingly became aware of the
opium trade and the ensuing problems for the Chinese economy and
population.246
For the EIC the possibility of a complete loss of the trade monopoly,
in the event that they should be unable to satisfy the demands of the
British public and parliament, had been hanging over them like the
sword of Damocles since 1814. The EIC still had the largest market share
in the European and Western trade in Canton but the Americans in par-
ticular were becoming stronger. During these years, the EIC feared that
the Chinese might favour the Americans over the British, easing trade
restrictions for them.247
In addition, the British in Canton increasingly perceived themselves
as being part of a strong Asian Empire, which made the dependent sit-
uation in Canton progressively less tolerable. At a time when Bentinck
and his men set out to reorganise Indian administration and the Indian
elite,248 it became inconceivable that their fellow EIC employees in Can-
ton should have to submit to seemingly arbitrary Chinese laws. In
the conflicts from the second half of the 1820s onwards, the British
increased the chasm between themselves and the Chinese while pro-
voking them deliberately. For the British at Canton, the meaning of the
Chinese authority as despotic and humiliating became fixed and they
were determined to establish their equality with the Chinese. In these
situations of crisis, the idea of the dignity of Britain and the British char-
acter and the threat to it by actions of the Chinese authorities were of
major importance.
All these elements came to bear on the conflict between the Select
Committee and the Chinese officials from 1829 onwards. Discussions
of the Select Committee with the London headquarters reflect two
opposing strategies, one more conciliatory, the other more aggressive
towards the Chinese, based on two different images of China. The

immediate cause of the dispute was the reduction in the number of
Hong merchants from eleven to seven due to bankruptcy, the seventh
one pending. At the same time, the Chinese authorities tried to restrict
the activities of the outside merchants. These Chinese merchants had
originally only been allowed to sell small items, but in fact they engaged
in large scale trade, particularly with the country traders. These two
changes made trade considerably more difficult for the country mer-
chants as well as for the EIC, who saw the reluctance by Chinese officials
to secure a sufficient number of Hong merchants as a direct attack on
their trade. The EIC feared that this policy was aimed at forcing the
British out of their dominant market position.249
The actual impulse to take action came from Bombay, from the coun-
try trade, in the form of a memorandum to the Select Committee, signed
by 44 Parsee merchants of Bombay.250 They complained that the restric-
tion of the outside merchants in combination with the reduced number
of Hongs might make it very difficult for them to sell their cotton in
Canton.251 A decision was taken by the Committee to delay bringing the
company ships to Whampoa at the beginning of the new trading sea-
son. The Committee then used the occasion to present the Viceroy with
a full list of grievances which they wanted to see redeemed before they
would be willing to start the trade again. It ranged from the demand to
establish new Hongs to the reduction of the Port tax and the abolition
of the system of the security merchant. In his first response, the Viceroy
agreed to give further incentives to new Hong merchants and order the
old owner of one of the almost bankrupt firms, who had fled, to back
to Canton. However, this was not sufficient for the Committee and they
decided to continue their protest.252
In contrast, the president of the Select Committee, H. C. Plowden had
argued for a more conciliatory approach from the beginning and now
wished to acknowledge that the Viceroy actually seemed to be willing
to resolve the problem of the small number of Hongs. He was only pre-
pared to support any further actions of the Committee if these were
carried out according to the ‘Principles of Moderation and Justice’. He
considered the insistence of the Committee to stop all trade until all
their demands were addressed as un-English, presenting the Viceroy as
a man of caution with whom one could negotiate: ‘It is to be regret-
ted that the temper and caution displayed by the Viceroy has not been
reciprocated in our proceedings, and that we have assumed, and are
now using, the weapons usually employed by the Chinese themselves.’
He in particular criticised the tone of ‘assumption and demand’ in the
letters by the Committee which, in combination with few precise prob-

lems they were able to specify, made the Committee’s position seem
unjustifiable.253 The dispute between the president and the Committee
escalated further. They supported their arguments with two different
versions of what it meant to be British and two different images of the
Chinese character.
Plowden urged a settlement with the Chinese while the rest of the
Select Committee hoped to achieve a change of the entire system by
staying firm. They presented the local Chinese government as ‘haughty
and arbitrary’ and one which could only be made to conform with the
‘principles of reason and justice’ by not giving in. Since the ‘encroaching
spirit of extortion’ was inseparable from the ‘Chinese Character’, it could
only be kept in its boundaries by firmness and decisions. The members
of the Select Committee argued that the latter were inherent traits of the
British character and had brought them the estimation of the Chinese,
above all other nations. An early retreat, therefore, would destroy this
image irreparably and with it the security of trade at Canton.254 In addi-
tion, they asked for ships of war to be sent from India to support their
claims and to demonstrate to the Chinese that they had the backing of
their sovereign. This was a measure which had been carefully avoided
before so as not to provoke the Chinese.255
The president vehemently refused these measures. At the end of
January 1830, Plowden took leave and sailed to Britain. A month later
the Committee finally agreed to resume trade after another response by
the Viceroy which promised to install new Hong merchants and to look
into the matter of the entrepôt fee. The committee was convinced that
their measure had left a lasting impression and that the Viceroy and the
Chinese government were sufficiently interested in the continuation of
trade to make the necessary changes in the future.256
The Bengal government did not send ships of war. After Plowden had
made his report in London, the Court of Directors angrily refused to
sanction the measures of the Committee and after another turbulent
year they recalled them in May 1830. An aggressive approach towards
the Chinese government was not desired by the EIC headquarters as
long as the trade continued.257 In distant London, and by old China
hands such as Plowden, even the local Cantonese government could
still be seen as more or less reliable, a government with which negotia-
tions could be conducted within the frameworks of the Chinese trading
system. A complete change of the system might have been desirable,
but was considered unrealistic due to the immutable character of the
Chinese and was not to be attempted for fear of endangering the trade
in general. In Canton itself, the majority of the Committee members

had been more strongly influenced by the country traders, who as has
been shown, generally advocated a more aggressive attitude towards the
Chinese government. As a minority they might also have felt a stronger
need to show the firmness of their position, which they saw as a main
attribute of the British character, and to demonstrate that they were
not defenceless and at the complete mercy of the Chinese government.
In this context, the Chinese government was necessarily described as
corrupt and arbitrary.
However, to those, like Plowden, who advocated a conciliatory
approach, all aggressive behaviour towards the Chinese was branded
‘un-British’. What was essentially a conflict about access to the Chinese
market was thus narrated by the British as a conflict about British
identity and the way it was perceived by the Chinese.
The conflict with the Chinese authorities in the following year
showed even more clearly how questions of the conditions of trade and
the pressure by the country traders merged with the necessity of the EIC
employees in Canton to reassure their identity and economic interest
against real or perceived threats by the Chinese officials. This particular
conflict centred on four issues. Firstly, three Parsees had killed Captain
Mackenzie of the Dutch ship Vrouw Helena and the Cantonese Viceroy
demanded that they were handed over to the Chinese authorities to be
tried. Secondly, the president of the Select Committee, William Baynes
had brought his wife to Canton, in contravention of Chinese regula-
tions. Thirdly, the Viceroy stated that foreigners at Canton were not
allowed to use Sedan chairs and complained that one writer of the EIC
factory had done so; and lastly, the British were upset by a proclama-
tion posted in Chinese all around Canton, allegedly referring to the
depraved morals of the foreigners and calling on Chinese merchants
and linguists to educate and civilise these foreigners.258 Again, it was
the country merchants who urged the Committee to act against these
proclamations. They complained that these were written in insulting
language and thus lowered the foreigners in the estimation of the lower
order of Chinese society, thereby creating a climate in which violence
against foreigners was considered acceptable.259 The Committee agreed
with the free British merchants on this issue and wrote a note of com-
plaint to the Viceroy. Using several Chinese proverbs they seemingly
tried to show the Viceroy that they hardly needed education in Chinese
culture and civilisation, especially not by badly educated linguist and
Hong merchants.260
The issue of the Sedan chairs also sat at odds with their self-under-
standing which they wanted to see accepted by the Chinese. The
Committee informed the Viceroy that all supercargoes and writers of
the EIC were sons and brothers of country gentlemen. They explained
that Mr. Astell, the writer who had used the Sedan Chair, was the son
of a former head of the Court of Directors and Member of the ‘Great
Council of the British Nation’: ‘How talk of his overstepping his rank by
sitting in a chair!’ they exclaimed irritated.261
To counter the threat by the Viceroy of capturing those responsible
for the death of Captain Mackenzie and removing the British women
by force, the EIC Committee ordered armed British seamen up to the
factory.262 The Viceroy, who obviously did not want an armed conflict,
tried to calm the British in his next answer, but did not move in the
substance of any of the questions. The prohibition on foreign women
and the use of Sedan Chairs by foreigners was an old custom and there-
fore should remain. As to the proclamations, they were not meant as
insults but rather they were intended to urge the Chinese to help the
foreigners, who came to a land of which they knew nothing. Their mis-
interpretation of the proclamation really only showed their ignorance
of Chinese civilisation. He nevertheless promised that the issue of the
foreign women was not important enough to use military force to evict
them. The Committee for the moment felt that the Viceroy, while not
yielding on any of the points, had at least assured their security and that
of the factory in general.263
In November 1830, the new president and a new second member
of the Select Committee, Majorbanks and Davis, arrived in Canton
to replace the Committee members who had revolted against the
former president. However, they were equally opposed to too concil-
iatory a position towards the Viceroy. They thought that this would
be against the impression of steadfastness the British always wanted to
present. This seemed particularly important to them since the year 1831
brought events, which the EIC employees understood to be even greater
humiliations.
During their absence from Canton outside the trading season, the
Fooyuen (Governor) and the Hoppo had destroyed the landing the EIC
had built in front of their factories without direct permission by the gov-
ernment. Furthermore, the merchants informed them that one of the
linguists had been arrested and threatened with execution because he
had not interfered with the construction of this place. While question-
ing the linguists, the Fooyuen had ordered the picture of George III to be
uncovered, and had seated himself in front of it. The outrage amongst
the members of the EIC was great. They felt insulted in their national
dignity and feared for their security since the Chinese authorities had
so easily walked into the factory. At the same time, an imperial edict
with new, stricter regulations for foreigners in Canton was published.
The British saw a conspiracy to destroy their trade and national honour.
To act decisively against these insults was even more important since
the Select Committee saw itself as an authority amongst the Europeans
at Canton.264 They thus tried several channels to protest against these
measures and asked the Supreme Government at Fort William for sup-
port through navy ships. After several attempts, John Davis managed to
pass an address to the Viceroy who clearly denied the allegation that
he had insulted the King of England, stating that he had been unaware
of the nature of the portrait. He acknowledged that the EIC had built
an additional landing place but also stated that in the future they were
still only allowed to address the Viceroy through the Hong merchants.
The Committee saw themselves as the victors in this conflict, since the
measures they adopted satisfied the local authorities ‘that we will not
submit to oppression, though we have every disposition to conduct our
affairs amicably if possible.’265 When finally the navy ships from India
did arrive to protect British interests in Canton, it was thus only left to
them to present the letter by Governor-General Bentinck to the local
government and to obtain an answer to it. For the moment, the Select
Committee and the naval forces from India agreed that there was no fur-
ther need for action, even though there was still no security for the trade
in Canton against the ‘grievances of the most severe and oppressive
character’.266
In the years after opening the India trade to free merchants, the
growing influx of British subjects as country traders into Canton made
it increasingly important for the Select Committee to present them-
selves as those who safeguarded British interests and the safety of
British subjects. ‘Britishness’ was defined as steadfastness, upright but
with peaceful and commercial character. Like the Select Committee, a
true Briton would defend the honour of Britain and the security of
its trade. While they provoked the Cantonese government on several
occasions, by bringing women to Canton and using Sedan chairs, in
particular their toleration of and reliance on the illicit opium trade,
they always portrayed themselves as the injured party, wronged by an
arbitrary, malicious and aggressive government. They could thus jus-
tify an increasingly aggressive approach to the restrictions in Canton,
through which they probably hoped to pacify the demands of the
country merchants as well as securing their tea trade. This was partic-
ularly emphasised by their repeated demand for naval support from
India, a measure they had avoided in all previous years and that was not
appreciated by the Court of Directors in London. This wish to present
themselves as protectors of British interests in Canton and as freedom
loving Britons collided with a Qing government which was increasingly
worried by internal uprisings and the silver drain blamed on the grow-
ing opium trade.267 The Select Committee however had no interest in
considering the reasons for the Chinese emphasis on not changing the
existing regulations concerning foreigners. They could hardly question
the opium trade since they relied on it to finance the tea trade and
they feared the loss of the charter and their special position in Canton.
Moreover, the harsher measures by the Cantonese government proba-
bly made them feel more insecure and made it even more important for
them to reassure themselves of their British identity, which linked them
to a strong world power, represented in nearby India. In this context, the
alleged insult of the British King’s portrait was particularly worrying.
At the same time, the acceptance of the more or less conciliatory
responses by the Viceroy showed that the prime interest of the Select
Committee was still to keep the trade going. This also allowed them
to present themselves as those who could after all negotiate with the
Chinese officials. Nevertheless, it was this Committee which had to pre-
side over the end of the EIC monopoly and the Select Committee itself
in 1834.
3.7 British honour and opium
When rumours reached the Hong merchants in 1831 that the EIC might
be abolished, they asked the British to nominate a representative who
would be responsible for all the British in the port. The British govern-
ment took this as a welcome pretext to finally establish an official rep-
resentation in Canton. The China Act of 1834, which abolished the EIC
monopoly in China therefore also established the office of Chief Super-
intendent in Canton. He was to supervise the British subjects in the port
and his main obligation was to protect the British trade with China and
represent British interests in the port of Canton.268 The country mer-
chants feared that George Staunton might be selected for this job and
continue the conciliatory line towards the Chinese government which
he and Plowden had stood for during the time of Select Committee.
However, the King’s choice finally fell on William John, 9th Lord Napier,
a Captain of the Royal Navy with no prior experience of China.269
Many historians have seen the end of the EIC monopoly in China as
the decisive turning point in British–Chinese relations, from which it
was only a matter of time until an outbreak of open hostilities between
the two empires.270 Glenn Melancon has recently cautioned against this
perceived automatism. He has pointed out that no member of the British
government was interested in opening hostilities with China in 1834,
and that even the Superintendents, with the exception of Napier, were
cautious in their approach to the Chinese authorities.271
In terms of trade, Michael Greenberg has shown that the change was
not as dramatic as the country merchants would have had the pub-
lic believe. Even before 1834, half of the British trade with China was
already conducted by private merchants.272 According to him, the pri-
vate merchants mainly hoped for stronger political support against the
Chinese than the EIC, and particularly its headquarters in London, were
prepared to give. However, the opening of the trade also meant increas-
ing numbers of Britons trying to push into the market, both for tea and
opium, thereby disturbing the balance which had existed before.273
While it is certainly important to point out that there is no inevitable
trajectory between the end of the EIC monopoly and the Opium War,
the new situation after 1834 resulted in a number of developments, in
the ‘contact zone’ in Canton, which in the end made the war imagin-
able and justifiable to the British public. The information networks in
Canton shifted and thus brought a different set of images of China to
the forefront. The subsequent Superintendents of Trade each tried to
create a narrative of British presence at the coast of China and specifi-
cally of legitimate British trade with China which justified their newly
established institution. At the same time, they now also had to represent
those British traders who were deeply involved in the opium smuggling.
The result was the development of a meaning of China in the official
correspondence with London which made the idea of a military attack
against China appear justified and desirable.
After the end of the monopoly, the tea trade quickly became an object
of speculation and shipments of tea to England increased by 40 per cent
in 1835. However, most of those who had entered into this speculation
failed and only those with previous knowledge and contacts, like Jardine
Matheson & Co., were able to profit from the opening of the China trade
with England.274 The EIC did not disappear completely from the China
market, as they were allowed to keep a Finance Committee at Canton
which issued Bills on England to those who wanted to ship goods from
China to London of a value of up to 600,000 pounds. This practice made
William Jardine furious, but he achieved little against it in the years
leading up to the Opium War.275 On the other side of the trade, the
Hong merchants ran into increasing difficulty as they could no longer
rely on the financial support of the Company and their assured demand
for tea. Thus, in the years following the end of the EIC monopoly, the
trade in Canton did not necessarily improve but moved into a series of
turmoil and troubles.276
The fall of the EIC monopoly meant that British and American mer-
chants tried to push even more opium into the Chinese market. By
the end of the 1830s, opium accounted for 20 per cent of total Indian
revenues.277 At the same time, the Chinese government became increas-
ingly aware of the outflow of specie and the resulting ‘silver famine’,
which to a large extent came to be associated with the illegal opium
trade.278 Chinese officials now mainly associated opium addiction with
the unruly lower classes and soldiers and it was increasingly seen as
a threat to the stability of the empire.279 James Polachek has given
a detailed study of the inner-Chinese debate on this issue, showing
that enforcement of the opium prohibition was only adopted as policy
towards the end of 1836. Before that, the idea of solving the Canton
trade problem by way of the legalisation of opium was favoured by
many, particularly in the Southern Provinces.280
The year 1834 also saw the end of the early modern system of British
representation in China, which operated through a private trading
company.281 The superintendents were officers of the British Crown and
as such could not communicate with the Chinese Government through
the medium of the Hong merchants without endangering the dignity of
the British Crown. While the British government at this time certainly
did not want an armed conflict with China, the instructions also made
it clear that they did want a Crown representative in Canton, accepted
by the British merchants as well as by the Chinese authorities.282 The
trope of British dignity therefore moved more into the centre of British–
Chinese relations than ever before. This also meant, crucially, that the
long-standing relatively smooth communication and information chan-
nel between the Select Committee as the de facto representatives of the
British in the port and the Hong Merchants could no longer continue in
the same way.
The Superintendents now had to listen more carefully to the opin-
ions of the former country merchants, especially Jardine and Math-
eson, whom they now officially represented, at least in their legal
trade operations. Cut off from the Hong merchants, at least in official
correspondence, the information networks of the country merchants
now came to dominate the image of China in this ‘contact zone’.
The events that followed the arrival of the first British Chief Super-
intendent at the China coast already showed the resulting shift in the
meanings of China amongst the British in Canton. This shift was not
simply due to the influence of merchants like Jardine and Matheson.
Rather, the tropes and meanings developed by the Select Committee
played a significant role, as will be discussed below. However, the per-
son of the first Superintendent as well as the intentions of Palmerston
to have a representative of the British Crown in Canton meant that
the more conciliatory approach, favoured by the likes of Plowden,
disappeared completely at this point.
Napier’s formative period in the Navy had been during the Napole-
onic Wars, mainly on the coasts of France, Spain and the Mediterranean
in general.283 From this period, he adopted a discourse of opposition
to tyranny. Napier also brought the habitus of the Royal Navy to
British–Chinese relations, which previously had only been conducted
by merchants or gentlemen-merchants.
When Napier arrived in Macao in July 1834, he refused to commu-
nicate his presence through the Hong merchants and insisted on a
meeting with the Viceroy. To achieve this, he went to Canton with-
out waiting for permission to do so. Several attempts to deliver his letter
directly to the Viceroy failed. The situation escalated as Napier com-
manded the two ships of war, which had accompanied him from Britain,
to Canton. The Chinese authorities put Napier under house arrest and
stopped the trade, which slowly turned the British trading community
against Napier, especially the Parsee merchants. When Napier finally
decided that the only thing he could do was to return to Macao, the
Chinese authorities delayed his journey. Weakened by fever, Napier
reached Macao and died on 11 October 1834.284
Much has been made of the influence of the country merchants, espe-
cially Jardine and Matheson, on Napier’s aggressive approach against
China.285 Melancon has refuted this by highlighting that Napier had
already decided on a ‘forward’ strategy against China on route from
Britain, before having met Matheson.286 While it is undoubtedly impor-
tant to point this out, Melancon fails to explain how Napier arrived at
his decision. It certainly did not appear out of a vacuum, as Melancon
describes it. Tracing Napier’s knowledge of China and the way he jus-
tified which image of China to use reveals how the British imperial
expansion transformed and multiplied images of China, and more
particularly how ideas formed in Asia interacted with those from Britain.
Napier’s image of China was probably influenced by the discussion in
Britain about the end of the monopoly, in which the country merchants
and their supporters in Britain had a strong voice.287 On his voyage to

China, he carefully studied the brief the Foreign Office and the Direc-
tors of the EIC had prepared for him, and which seems to have consisted
mainly of the Records of the EIC.288 In contrast to the brief for Macart-
ney, the works of the Jesuits with their positive appraisal of China seem
not to have been included in Napier’s preparation for his new positions.
The meanings of China formed by the Select Committee and discussed
above were thus highly influential for Napier’s decision.289 This included
the idea of parts of the Select Committee that the only way to achieve
better trading conditions was to take a firm stand against the Chinese
authorities. This fitted very well with the personal ambitions of Lord
Napier, who, from the very moment he had persuaded the King to
appoint him, pushed for the extension of his power to that of a full
ambassador;290 an ambition, which Palmerston rejected vehemently.291
On his journey from Britain and during his initial stay in China,
Napier clearly adopted those meanings of China which had been devel-
oped in the ‘contact zones’ in Canton and Southeast Asia, which shows
that these meanings had already been transferred to the British Isles
to a considerable extent. His personal ambition and his experience in
the British navy during the Napoleonic Wars led him to choose the
idea of China developed by those eager to change the status quo of
British–Chinese relations. Even after his arrival in Canton, he supported
most of his decisions by pointing towards the records of the Select
Committee.292 While the country merchants certainly were an influence
on him, Napier also doubted at times their loyalty to his course.293
Napier described the Chinese population as industrious and natural
sales men, who were only suppressed by their tyrannical government:
The house of every Chinaman in these extensive suburbs, is a shop

of one sort of another. Every man is constantly at work; nobody seen
loitering about and idle; and, in fact, every man is a merchant [empha-
sis UH]; yet does one of these same Edicts [ordering Napier to obey
Chinese customs and traditions] speak of the ‘petty affairs of com-
merce’, - as if commerce were a matter of no concern to the empire!294
His entire approach was based on the assumption that the Chinese
people could be persuaded to support the British against their own
government. In particular, Napier again picked up on Macartney’s inter-
pretation of the position of the Manchu dynasty in China: ‘If the
Emperor refuses on demand – remind him that he is only an Intruder
and that it would be his good policy to secure himself on his throne by
gratifying the wish of his people.’295 He was so sure of the good dispo-
sition of the Chinese population that he claimed that a military strike
against China could end without any civilian bloodshed, as the Chinese
population would not oppose an English attack against their Manchu
governors.296
He therefore also issued a declaration to the people of Canton explain-
ing that he was sent by the King of Great Britain and as requested by the
Chinese Viceroy, despite John Davis urging not to do so.297 The response
from the Chinese authorities in Canton was short and threatening,
calling for Napier to be beheaded. However, Napier saw himself justi-
fied as allegedly the people of Canton took no note of this demeaning
proclamation.298
Napiers description of the Chinese as industrious salespeople is typical
for the period between the end of the EIC monopoly and the Opium
War. It should be noted that there was a particular emphasis on the
inherent capacity of the Chinese for trade, rather than as field workers,
as in Southeast Asia, or as craftsmen, as in earlier descriptions of China
by the Jesuits.
After the Napier-debacle, George Best Robinson, a former member of
the Select Committee, became the Chief Superintendent. He decided
to remain relatively un-active and waited for instructions from London
on how to proceed further. However, one should not interpret this as
a definitive decision against a more aggressive policy against China, as
some historians have done.299 One of Robinson’s first acts was to send a
series of essays about the state of China, which he had requested from
Gützlaff, to Palmerston. Robinson had explicitly chosen Gützlaff to pro-
vide this information because the latter ‘adopting the Dress, habits and
what is more surprising, the language of the people, has associated with
them on a familiar footing in various places, known formerly to no
European and now only to a few.’300
In 1835, Karl Gützlaff, who had accompanied the country merchants
on their smuggling trips up the coast became the second interpreter
for the Superintendents. His influence on British ideas on China was
to be significant. Gützlaff had been born in Pyritz in Pomerania in
1803. He first went to Asia for the Netherlands Missionary Society
with the intention of working as a missionary in the interior of Suma-
tra. After a meeting with Robert Morrison in London, he began to be
interested in China. When he had to abandon his original plan of work-
ing in Sumatra due to unrests, he came to Java in 1827, where he
met William Medhurst, who was working there for the LMS mission
to China amongst the Chinese diaspora, and started to learn Chinese.

From there he moved to Siam, where he worked amongst the Chinese
there. He adopted a Chinese name and tried to assimilate himself com-
pletely to the Chinese style of life. He made his first approach to China
on a Chinese junk from Siam, travelling up the Chinese coast as far
as Tientsin. On his return to Macao, he met with Robert Morrison,
and from there he embarked on his next journey up the coast on
the Select Committee-sponsored trip of the ship ‘Amherst’ as inter-
preter to Hamilton Lindsay. His third journey was on the Sylph, a ship
owned by Jardine and Matheson to smuggle opium. Afterwards, while
working as occasional interpreter for the British merchants Gützlaff
repeatedly attempted to enter into China’s interior, getting as far as
Fukien. However, his presence increasingly attracted the attention of
the authorities.301
Thus, Gützlaff was very much a product of the networks of empire,
which also linked the Dutch and British imperial presence in Asia. Even
though of German origin, Gützlaff soon associated himself fully with
the English. In his tracts, he always speaks of the English in terms of
‘we’ and ‘our nation’ or ‘our sovereign’.302 This was in addition to his
attempts of submerging himself in the Chinese life style.
Country merchants and their interpreter, Gützlaff, had different
access to information about China than the EIC Select Committee,
which had mainly cooperated closely with the Hong merchants. These
new networks of information were with the Chinese out merchants
along the coast, the places the smuggling boats visited and informa-
tion about the central government acquired through them. The image
of China created through these networks of information was that of a
weak Empire, that was unable to cope with its coastal defence, and of
a population very interested in commerce that would willingly surren-
der to anybody attempting to defeat the corrupt Mandarins who halted
commerce and the spread of Christianity.303
With the end of the Select Committee, this image became even more
prominent in the official correspondence between Canton and London,
which now was a correspondence between an officer of the crown and
the Foreign Office. At the same time, a group of British merchants,
led by Jardine, Matheson and James Innes, relentlessly argued for a
more aggressive policy against the Chinese government, openly dis-
cussing military action in the Canton Register and lobbying the British
government to send a naval force to China.304
The essays written by Gützlaff discussed Chinese military power, the
possibility of opening trade with other ports along the Chinese coast
and the way Britain should interact with the Chinese authorities.305
Gützlaff based his arguments mainly on observations he had made dur-
ing his journeys up the China coast and his forays into the Chinese
interior, and on official Chinese publications which he had probably
acquired during these trips and through contacts in Canton. In these
essays, Gützlaff developed a narrative which justifies foreign power
over China and the Chinese. He characterises the Chinese government
and its Mandarins as corrupt, arrogant and in perpetual fear of foreign
attacks on the empire, desperately trying to hold an empire together
which they were no longer able to control. In contrast to this, the com-
mon people are described as friendly, industrious and eager to trade
with the British and to accept their goods as well as their religion. He
emphasised that the Chinese Empire, especially the coastal regions, was
dependent on the trade with Britain. In this context, Gützlaff also sep-
arated the ruling Manchus from the Chinese population, characterising
the former as not industrious and wanting skills. Both were presented as
timid, taking flight at the first sight of a firearm.306
The idea of an industrious population that was eager to interact with
the British and that was only hindered by its corrupt authorities was also
at the centre of other efforts by the British community in Canton and
Macao to change British–Chinese relations.
Explicitly following the example of India, Gützlaff and the country
merchants, with the support of the Superintendent of trade, set up the
‘society for the diffusion of useful knowledge in China’ in November
1834. In the inaugural proceedings, printed for general distribution in
Asia and Britain, the Jesuit image of China was finally refuted, while still
allowing China its special position amongst the Asian countries:
The favourable accounts of the Chinese empire, given by the Jesuits,

have engendered in many the belief that the state of literature and
morals in China is far superior to that of other countries. Hence, to
attempt improvement here, would only serve to degrade a nation
which has reached the climax or human perfection. On this misrep-
resentation, most absurd and mischievous theories have been built.
[. . .] While we must reject such views as false, we cannot regard the
Chinese as incapable of rising and viewing with the most enlightened
nations of the earth. Of all the Asiatics we regard them as the most
prepared for the reception of useful knowledge.307
The hopes of those behind this enterprise were directed towards the
‘common people’ who did not have the arrogance of the ‘learned
Chinese’.308 The ‘Morrison Education Society’, set up by the same

group of people, shortly afterwards in February 1835, had a similar
aim, namely to educate the Chinese population. It wanted to establish
schools in China, where Chinese children would learn Chinese as well
as English and read English books and the Bible.309
Another attempt to win over the Chinese by raising their esteem of
the British nation was the establishment of a hospital at Macao.310 Civil-
ising the Chinese thus became part of the attempt to open China to
British trade, particularly the opium import.
The huge effort of collecting and translating information about China
in these years, mainly by Gützlaff, led to the feeling on the part of the
British in the ‘contact zone’ that China was no longer the unknown
entity, but rather that they understood China and its politics and could
engage with China on its own terms. As James Polachek has pointed
out, these improved information networks led the British in Canton to
believe that the opium trade would be legalised sooner or later.311 The
harsh approach by Commissioner Lin, however, more or less took them
completely by surprise. This also highlights the fact that the British
only had access to the information networks at the coast, but had little
understanding of politics of the Qing court in Beijing.
In 1836, the fraction of the court in Beijing in favour of strict oppres-
sion of the opium trade gained power. Charles Elliot, who had been
appointed Chief of the Trade Commission in China by Palmerston
replacing George Robinson in 1836, decided not to be too alarmed by
the first warning signs: steps taken by the Canton authorities to pun-
ish Chinese smugglers and opium traders and to evict British opium
merchants in 1837.312 He was still certain that the Chinese economy
depended too heavily on foreign trade to interrupt it significantly,
despite the rhetoric of the Chinese officials.313
The main concern for Elliot and Palmerston during these years was to
convince the Chinese authorities to accept Elliot as a representative of
the British crown, and by this, to accept at least the equality of Britain to
the Chinese Empire. Elliot certainly hoped to solve the impending trad-
ing crisis through more communication, and acceptance of his status by
the Chinese authorities. However, the British metropolis and the periph-
ery of its empire clashed in their views how this could be achieved.
Palmerston, in the few letters he wrote to Elliot, worked on the assump-
tion that Britain’s might and power had to be accepted naturally by
all people in the world. Elliot, by contrast, tried to negotiate with the
ambivalences of the ‘contact zone’, where British power was known to a
certain extent, but where the Chinese authorities still hoped to contain
this power.314 After the Napier disaster and Robinson’s attempt to simply
lie still until directions would come from England, Elliot decided that
the best way forward would be to re-open the communication chan-
nel through the Hong merchants and use the word ‘pin’ on letters to
the Viceroy despite its translation as ‘petition’.315 He even maintained
this practice after Palmerston had interdicted it, who claimed that both
diminished the dignity of the British crown.316 Elliot only responded by
finding ways around Palmerston’s demand. For example, arguing that
Chinese officers of the same rank as himself addressed the Viceroy in the
same way.317 Slowly progressing in this way Elliot gained communica-
tion with the Chinese authorities, mainly through the Hong merchants.
In 1838, he even achieved direct communication with the Viceroy,
an achievement that would soon be lost again during the increasing
tensions of the following year.318
To Elliot and Palmerston, it was of the utmost importance that the
Chinese authorities should recognise the representative of the British
Crown in his full dignity, thus acknowledging the dignity of the
monarch he represented. This was also important to give him author-
ity over the British subjects in Canton, who on the one hand wished
more support from Britain for their aggressive strategy against China’s
trade conditions, but on the other hand, did not want to be told what
they ought to do, or be restricted in their increasingly dangerous opium
smuggling.319 In Elliot’s letters to Palmerston, the question of how to
communicate with the Chinese authorities and his role as Superinten-
dent is almost more prominent than the growing crisis in Canton. The
establishment of the Superintendence thus had made it crucial for the
British government and its representative that the Chinese government
should recognise it as equal, as everything else would mean a loss of
honour and dignity. Elliot’s actions in 1839, which certainly aggravated
the crisis, were thus a logical sequel to the Napier episode, and to a great
extent, the result of the political wish of Palmerston. While the latter
did not desire a war with China, at the same time, he wanted to see
the British flag finally honoured by the Chinese. Local knowledge about
Chinese customs and Elliot’s initial attempts to accommodate these in
his dealings with them were no longer accepted in the metropolis.
The crisis about opium smuggling reached a new climax in March
1839, when the court in Beijing decided to send Lin Tse-hsu, an asso-
ciate of the so called Spring Purification Party, to Canton with special
powers to enforce the anti-opium legislation and to end the opium
trade.320 He demanded that all opium should be handed over to him
by the foreign merchants. In December 1838, the crisis had been solved
by a partial handover and negotiations through the Hong merchants. In

March 1839, however, the situation escalated due to the determination
of Commissioner Lin to end the opium trade and the decision of Charles
Elliot to interfere. Elliot did not consider the merchants capable of nego-
tiating with the Chinese in this situation.321 Elliot famously took it upon
himself to guarantee compensation of any property the British mer-
chants handed over to the Chinese, collected all the opium and passed
it to Commissioner Lin on 21 May 1839 who destroyed an estimated
2 million pounds worth of opium.322
Most works on the Opium War emphasise the economic motive of
the growing British Empire for military action, highlighting the way
in which opium had become a central trading good for the support
of Britain’s Asian expansion, while remaining prohibited in China.323
They are divided about the role of opium, seeing it either as central to
the conflict or suggesting that the conflict might have erupted in any
event as the expanding British Empire and the restrictive policies of the
Chinese Empire collided.324 Glenn Melancon has correctly pointed out
that the final decision to go to war had as much to do with the poli-
tics of the Melbourne government in London as with the situation in
Canton. According to him, the main reason for the cabinet’s decision
was to safeguard British honour internationally.325
Certainly, as far as the economic interest of British merchants and
British India in the opium trade were concerned, this clampdown on
the trade was the ultimate catastrophe. However, it were the meanings
of China which had developed in the ‘contact zone’ in Canton that
determined the way Elliot dealt with the tensions and actions which
the Qing court’s new policy on opium produced. On the one hand, he
relied on the good will of the Chinese population, constructed as above
as industrious, commercial and oppressed by corrupt Mandarins.326 On
the other, for a long time the idea of the corrupt and duplicitous nature
of Chinese officials led Elliot to doubt that official declarations would
actually be acted upon.327 The understanding of the Chinese legal sys-
tem developed in the previous decade also meant that at the height of
the crisis, in June 1839, he refused to compromise with the Chinese over
the handover of a murderer, something which had still been possible in
1820.328
This was closely connected with the attempts by Elliot and the mer-
chants to develop a narrative of legal trade and British dignity in
Canton. In a memorial to Palmerston in May 1839, the British
merchants emphasised that the trade in opium had been quasi-legal and
fully tolerated by the Chinese authorities at the China coast, who had
profited considerably from it.329 At the same time, Elliot was worried
by the potential threats the opium trade posed to both the economy
of the British Empire and the dignity of the British crown. He repeat-
edly warned Palmerston that the over reliance of the British trade with
China on opium smuggling could endanger the entire trade with that
country.330 However, for a long time similar to the British merchants he
tried to describe the opium smuggling as a more or less legal trade, con-
ducted with the full knowledge of the Chinese authorities. The more
it became clear that the Chinese authorities might indeed clamp down
on the opium trade, the more Elliot got worried about the dignity of
the British flag if it was seen to be protecting an illegal trade. After the
May crisis, which led to the destruction of British opium, he increas-
ingly emphasised that his main interest was to secure a ‘honorable trade’
between the two countries, which could however also include the legal-
isation of the opium trade.331 He was probably concerned about the loss
of the tea trade, which was important for British revenue as well as the
British population, who consumed this good en masse. While Elliot was
acutely aware of the economic importance of opium for the British in
India and in London, he also believed that this revenue could only be
saved in the long run if the trade became legal. Any further reliance on
smuggling could only be dangerous.332
This was also Palmerston’s concern when he finally mentioned the
opium trade in his correspondence with the Superintendents: ‘her
Majesty’s Government cannot interfere for the purpose of enabling
British subjects to violate the laws of the country to which they trade.’333
In general, however, Palmerston seems to have decided to ignore the fact
that opium smuggling formed the very basis of both, British economic
interests in Asia and the problems with the Chinese, thus avoiding the
moral dilemma.
Elliot’s decision to join the besieged British merchants in Canton and
to guarantee the opium handed over was part of the attempt to save
what he defined as the legal trade in Canton. Even more than that, it
was an expression of his authority and position. Wearing full naval uni-
form he tried to emphasise to the Chinese authorities and to the British
merchants that British trade with China was not just a private matter
conducted by merchants, but a matter of great concern to Britain and
the British Empire.
For those in Canton, military action had long been an option. While
they sometimes argued against a war, they increasingly claimed that
the British had to show their power to the Chinese to achieve their
aims. The country merchants and even the EIC Select Committee had
demanded a show of force since the mid 1820s, even if they had not
at that time advocated a full-scale war. The merchants certainly had an
increasing economic interest in changing trading conditions in China,
especially after 1837, a trading interest which linked them to the rest
of the British Empire in Asia. The desire of the missionaries to ‘open
China’ to Christianity conveniently coincided with the discourse of
the merchant community that China had to be opened to interna-
tional trade. However, they always had difficulties reconciling military
action to protect the opium trade with Christian doctrine and thus often
argued against war.334 Most Britons in the ‘contact zone’ in Canton
had created the image of a Chinese population as willing and natural
traders, open to new ideas, suppressed by arrogant and corrupt Man-
darins, a population which would welcome a military invention by the
British.
Since Napier, the Superintendents had held an ambivalent position
towards the use of force against the Chinese. However, both Robinson
and Elliot were busy gathering all necessary intelligence for such a step.
Their assessment of their own role, especially under Elliot, as a direct
envoy of the British Crown rather than just a mere merchant, gave even
greater importance to honour and a narrative of a supposedly legal trade,
sometimes including opium in Canton. However, by May 1839, there
was no way in which Elliot could still assume that the Chinese authori-
ties would finally acknowledge his position and treat him as he deemed
appropriate. At this point, the Chinese under Commissioner Lin and the
British under Elliot had decided that compromise was not possible.
While Lin assumed that he had gained the upper hand over the
foreigners,335 Elliot believed that nothing but a military campaign
against the Chinese Empire, including the demand for compensation for
the opium, could re-establish trade on a secure footing. In his view, this
military action could be a ‘swift and heavy blow’ as opposed to a large-
scale war, which would become inevitable if the British did not show
the might of their power now.336 A central element in Elliot’s consider-
ations was the idea that the Chinese population would welcome such
an attack on those disrupting trade.337 Until the British government in
India or Britain decided to send sufficient warships, stoppage of trade
was the only weapon Elliot had, a situation from which the Americans
profited greatly.338
Throughout 1839, armed encounters between the British and the
Chinese increased and there was no sign of a change of Chinese poli-
tics. In June 1840, a British fleet arrived in the sea of Macao and Canton,
which marked the beginning of the Opium War.339 The images of China
which had been created in Canton and transferred back to Britain con-
tributed to a great extend to the pressure under which the Melbourne
ministry finally decided to go to war.
The first major attack on China by a European power ended with
China’s defeat in 1842, sealed by the treaty of Nanjing. As a result of
the war, the island of Hong Kong was ceded to the British which created
a new ‘contact zone’ between the British, British Indian subjects and the
Chinese, under British imperial rule. It also abolished the Cohong sys-
tem and allowed certain access for the British to the Chinese interior.
Thus, in 1842, the Canton system and its networks of information came
to an end for good.
Canton was a long way away from the Royal Pavilion in Brighton and
the imagination of the Prince Regent as a mythical Chinese character.
Here, at the edge of the Chinese Empire, the Chinese were daily social
contacts for the British, and the decisions of the Qing officials had direct
effect on their lives. Consequently, the meaning of China these Britons
held differed from what might have been prevalent in other parts of the
British expansion or indeed in Britain itself. The close contact between
the employees of the EIC, the country merchants and the missionar-
ies meant that they influenced each others’ views on China and the
Chinese more strongly than this was the case between their counterparts
in Britain. Especially questions of national honour and the acquisition
and the creation and use of knowledge about the Chinese as a means to
gain power were more significant in Canton.
They tried to assemble knowledge about Chinese language, law and
religion in order to empower the British community in their interactions
with the Chinese. In particular towards the end of the period studied
this meant that they tried to impose British norms on Qing officials and
to ensure that Britain was represented according to the British image of
themselves.
Britons who had lived in Canton considered themselves ‘China
experts’ and tried to establish themselves as such in British public opin-
ion. In the crucial years before the Opium War, the knowledge about
China which the British held to be true, therefore, had to a great extent
been created in the specific conditions of the ‘contact zone’ in Canton.
These ‘local experts’ however had very limited access to Chinese intel-
lectual and political networks. For example, they seem to have been
unaware of any of the four principal academies in Canton, such as the
Xuehai Tang, founded in 1820 by the Governor-General Ruan Yuan and
several Chinese foreign-trade merchant philanthropists.340 They were
also strongly influenced by knowledge created in other parts of Britain’s
Asian Empire, in India and Southeast Asia. In particular, ideas developed

about language, indigenous law, conversion and education in India were
transferred and applied in the Chinese context. India also served as an
example when it came to analysing the political situation in China. Par-
ticularly in the period after 1834, when the idea of a military strike
against China was increasingly favoured, the Manchus were equated
with the Mughals in India. This made it possible to imagine the Chinese
as oppressed people, needing to be freed from the corrupt Mandarins
and who even had to be educated and enlightened by the British for
their own good.
On the eve of the Opium War, China had become part of the imagina-
tion networks of the British imperial expansion, linking it to India and
other Asian cultures rather than viewing it as a civilisation on a par with
Europe. However, Britain’s imperial expansion did not only provide pat-
terns by which the British in Canton formed their ideas and knowledge
of China. It also created other ‘contact zones’ with the Chinese and the
Qing Empire, which strongly influenced British thoughts about China.
4
South and Southeast Asian
Encounters
The British Empire and its European rivals were not the only expanding
empires in Asia in the second half of the 18th century. In the 1750s, the
Qing Empire under Qianlong had expanded to include the large western
area, the Xinjiang province, into its territory. Qianlong had also tried,
albeit not very successfully, to ensure Chinese military supremacy over
Burma and Vietnam in the 1760s and 1780s. In the 1790s, he man-
aged to tighten his grip on Tibet and defeat the Gurkhas in Nepal.
At the same time, Chinese immigration from the southern provinces
to Southeast Asia increased.1 Within the same 50 years, Britain began
to establish its empire in India, starting in Bengal which bordered on
Nepal. From Bengal and Madras, the British tried to extend their influ-
ence into Burma and Vietnam. The unsolved question of the China trade
and the Napoleonic Wars brought the British to Southeast Asia. Where
those expanding empires and the networks of their populations met,
new contact zones sprang into existence in which the British meaning
of China was shaped and transformed.
Under the conditions of the ‘contact zone’ in India, the insecurity and
‘information panics’2 of an expanding power were pivotal for British
ideas about Chinese religion, language and customs. Moreover, the
British here came into contact with the central Asian extension of the
Chinese Empire, where the Manchu emphasised other aspects of their
culture than in Southern China.
While the ‘contact zone’ on the Indian border was to diminish in
importance over this period, the increasing expansion of Britain in
Southeast Asia was to make this an important ‘contact zone’ between the
British and the Overseas Chinese. Here, for the first time, the British had
contact with the Chinese without the restrictions imposed by the Qing
Empire and often in a situation where they were the colonial power.
106
South and Southeast Asian Encounters 107
These factors made Southeast Asia one of the prominent sites for the
formation of British knowledge on China and the Chinese.
4.1 China’s neighbour
Ever since the EIC had gained supremacy in Bengal in 1765, they found
themselves distant neighbours to the Qing sphere of influence. While
China was never the main focus of the British in India, it still figured
prominently in the reflections connected with the new North eastern
border.3 This neighbourhood was mainly characterised by a complete
lack of information. From the 1770s onwards, the Company tried to fill
the white map with knowledge on the state of affairs between the Ben-
gal frontier and that of the Chinese Empire. These explorations fitted
in well with the general programme of the Company in India, which
was to assert British power not just by way of military, diplomatic and
economic means, but also by gaining information about those whom
they wanted to rule or subject to the influence of the Company.4 How-
ever, this also meant that they quickly came into conflict with the
rulers of the neighbouring areas, such as the expanding kingdom of the
Gurkhas.5
The Company almost considered Bengal’s old trading connections as
being their inherited right, which entitled them to expand their eco-
nomic influence towards the region that separated them from China,
especially Nepal and Tibet. Thus, from the 1770s onwards, the British
employees of the EIC in India started to collect information about
China in the context of the intelligence-gathering that accompanied
the British conquest of India.6 While in Canton issues of translation,
national dignity, law, religion and commerce dominated the meaning
of China in the eyes of the British, in India this was influenced by the
anxieties of an expanding power, the need for military information and
the fears and suspicions resulting from the lack of it. Also, such infor-
mation as the British were able to obtain came from different sources:
from the Tibetans and from the Nepalese but hardly ever directly from
the Qing officials or the Han Chinese.
The China the British had to come to terms with was a distant empire
which nevertheless acted as a restrictive force for British action in the
region. To the few British who went into the Chinese sphere of influ-
ence, not protected by the Canton system and the knowledge built up
in this context, this encounter could be more threatening on a personal
level than to those in Canton. Thomas Manning for example, an eccen-
tric British traveller, finally decided to abandon his attempt to enter
China through Tibet because he feared for his safety and life.7 Most of
the time there was no direct contact and China was more of a rumour,
a chimerical threat to British interests, the exact influence of which in
the Himalayan region the British found difficult to establish.8 Without
Hoppos, Viceroys and Hong merchants, the will of those who restricted
British progress into the Himalayas and North-West China seemed to be
even more diffuse.
The first attempt to understand China’s North-West expansion was
made under Warren Hastings’s governorship. In these early years, lit-
tle was known about the countries beyond Bengal’s frontier or about
the power relations amongst them. Hastings and his colleagues of the
EIC were particularly interested in finding out the extent to which the
Chinese really exercised influence in these mountainous regions bor-
dering Bengal. On the one hand, the strategists of the EIC seem to
have wondered how far they might be able to extend their economic
and political influence without colliding with the Chinese Empire. On
the other hand, Hastings was fascinated by the idea of finding another
entrance to China and access to the Chinese market. In this context
therefore, and more so than in Canton, China was seen as a major power
in Asia, while its position as a desirable economic market continued.
This latter point was not just important in relation to possible trade
with China through the Himalayas but also due to the EIC system of
remitting their money back to Britain via the tea trade in Canton. These
aspects would be crucial for the British perceptions of the countries they
encountered between Bengal and China, mainly Tibet and Nepal. In
these contacts, ideas about Chinese religion and language again played
a crucial role. However, different influences produced chains of associa-
tions which made up the images of China which served a very different
political situation than in Canton.
In 1774, the young Scottish EIC servant George Bogle set out on a
diplomatic mission to the Panchen Lama in Tibet, thus making him-
self the first Briton to reach the ‘mountain kingdom’. As Kate Teltscher
recently described, this led to a journey of culture-crossings, which
would briefly connect the two empires and four cultures.9 In 1772, the
Company had interfered in a conflict between Bhutan and Cooch Behar
on the side of the latter. As a result, the Panchen Lama, alarmed by the
possibility of a British occupation of Bhutan, sent a letter to Warren
Hastings, asking him to end any hostilities against the Bhutanese.10 For
Hastings, this was a welcome occasion to establish closer relations with
Tibet, something the Court of Directors had hoped for since at least
1768.11 The main object was to expand British trade into Tibet, Nepal
and China, and to collect information about these regions. He thus

sent Bogle to Lhasa to open ‘mutual and equal communication of trade’
between Tibet and Bengal. In addition, he was to gather information
about the roads between Bengal and Lhasa, the communication between
Lhasa and its neighbour, their government, revenue and manners.12 In
a memorandum on Tibet, Hastings emphasised that he was particularly
interested in having ‘any facts relative to the state of Tibet with respect
to China and Tartary.’13
The Qing had continuously extended their influence over Tibet from
the early 18th century onwards, tightening their control on inner-
Tibetan affairs in 1750. Tibet was of a considerable importance for the
Qing, since they tried to consolidate their rule over the Central Asian
Mongolians by their public embrace of Tibetan Buddhism.14 Bogle, how-
ever, never met any official of the Qing Empire during his journey and
stay in Tibet. Still there was a constant presence of the idea of Chinese
power. On the one had, Bogle accepted Chinese overlordship over Tibet,
on the other, he doubted that the Chinese influence could actually
restrict British interests in the region. Accordingly, Bogle considered that
the reference to Chinese power only served as a pretext for the Tibetan
authorities to hinder his progress.15 The expedition first came to a halt
at Tassisudon, the capital of Bhutan. Shortly before his arrival, the EIC
envoy had received a letter from the Panchen Lama. This letter stipu-
lated that Bogle would not be permitted to proceed further into Tibet.
The reason given was that the Emperor of China did not permit the
Lama to admit any foreigners from India into his domain. Bogle con-
sidered this to be a mere pretext, although he was unable to conjecture
upon the real cause of the unwillingness of the Lama to allow him to
proceed. He even maintained this suspicion when the Deb Rajah in
Tassisudon confirmed the Lama’s argument. According to Bogle, he only
‘magnified the affair of China’.16 In the end, Bogle was allowed to pro-
ceed to Dechenrubje, where the Panchen Lama resided, but was unable
to procure the permit to proceed to Lhasa. Bogle considered the reason
for this to be the ‘jealous and suspicious temper’ of the Gesub Rimboché,
who conducted government business during the minority of the Dalai
Lama as a Regent in Lhasa, and his fear to draw the anger of the Chinese,
who were as ‘jealous and suspicious as himself’.17 This contrasts with
his representations of the Tibetans and Bhutanese as ‘noble savages’
and his positive account of the Lama as a wise, noble leader.18 In his
negotiations with the Lama about the commencing of trade, Bogle tried
to counter the constant references to the sovereignty of the Chinese
emperor over Tibet as a hindrance to trade. He tried to assure the Lama
that he was to be considered the ruler of the country in all affairs, despite
the formal overlordship of the Chinese Emperor.19 In this, he responded
to a certain degree to the attempts of the Panchen Lama to conduct
his own foreign policy, independently of the Chinese Emperor and the
Lhasa Regent.20
At the same time, Bogle hoped to profit from the connection of the
Lama with the Emperor of China. In his report about the trade in Tibet,
Bogle highlighted the strong trading links between Lhasa and China.21
Even more promising, the Panchen Lama had suggested that on his next
journey to Beijing he would ask for a passport for Bogle to proceed to
the Chinese capital. Bogle happily accepted the offer of support, even
though he was sceptical of the chances of success.22 In the end, this
attempt to reach China from the West came to nothing. The Panchen
Lama died in Beijing in 1780, without having been able to procure
the permit for Bogle to go to China. It is likely that the Lama did not
address the wishes of Warren Hastings during his stay in Beijing, but
reports by the gosein, Purangir, who accompanied him, emphasised that
the Panchen Lama had actually spoken warmly in favour of his British
friends.23 The Company therefore continued to see Tibet as a possible
route to China and hoped to establish stable trade even after the deaths
of both – the Lama and Bogle – had put an end to the first successful
establishment of contact.
In 1783, Hastings sent Samuel Turner to Tibet on the pretext of con-
gratulating the Tibetans on the discovery of the 6th incarnation of the
Lama in the body of a young child. Turner met with even stronger resis-
tance to his wishes than Bogle had, which he also mainly attributed
to the influence of the Chinese authority over the country, which in
his opinion had spoiled the Tibetans’ character. Nevertheless, he still
had high hopes for a commercial connection between Bengal and Tibet
in the future and was sure that in the end this would give them the
opportunity to send an envoy to Beijing.24
An understanding of China’s religions specific to the British in Bengal
was an important factor in these considerations. The hope was that the
Lama as a mediator would have sufficient influence on the Emperor.
In the reports, Qianlong’s interest in Tibet and the Lama is mainly
explained by his religious veneration of the Lama, showing him to be
a deeply religious person. In Canton, as well as in Britain, Confucian-
ism was seen as the major spiritual influence on the Chinese, while
Buddhism and Taoism were considered to be superstitions mainly fol-
lowed by the lower orders. In contrast to this, the encounters in the
‘contact zone’ on the border of British power in India led to Buddhism
being seen as a much more important feature of Chinese religious life.

This is the only context in which Bogle refers to the ‘Tartar’ origin of
Qianlong, giving this as a reason for him being a Buddhist. Bogle is
not concerned with the question of how Buddhism relates to the other
Chinese ‘religions’, Taoism and Confucianism, but seems to accept Bud-
dhism as the main religion of China.25 He might well have lacked a
deeper prior knowledge about China and thus had to base his under-
standing of Qianlong’s and Chinese religiosity on the accounts of the
Panchen Lama who of course was mainly concerned with Qianlong
as a Buddhist monarch. Bogle therefore also emphasises the depen-
dence of the Chinese emperor on the Panchen Lama. According to
him, Qianlong did not undertake any expedition without consulting
the Lama.26 Here, Bogle clearly accepted the Lama’s version of the
relationship between the Chinese emperor and the Tibetan Lamas. As
Evelyn Rawski has pointed out, the Qing emperors in general and Qian-
long in particular, tried to stress the subordination of the Lamas to
them, while the Lama tried to emphasise the Lama–patron relationship
between him and the emperor, thus establishing his spiritual power over
him.27 Bogle translated these Central Asian power relations into those
of medieval Europe: To him, the Panchen Lama was a better and wiser
Pope while the Chinese emperor could be equated with the German
emperor.28
During the Macartney embassy, these aspects would become impor-
tant again. Since the reception of Macartney took place in Chengede,
the Manchu Residence, Qianlong presented himself there as the patron
of Tibetan Buddhism and thus conveyed this image to Macartney. In his
observations on Chinese religion, Macartney therefore concluded that
the Tartars follow the religion of Fo, as it is practiced by the Dalai Lama.
He clearly separated the Buddhism of the court from that followed by
the masses, which he considered to be simple idolatry. At Chengede,
he was also confronted with Qianlong’s representation of himself as an
incarnate ruler, an idea which followed Mongol patterns of rule legit-
imisation. Without being able to understand the political implications
of this claim, Macartney attributed it to the extravagant superstition of a
successful monarch, equating it to Alexander’s claim to divine descent.29
China thus still held the meaning of a huge potential market, closed
due to the suspicious and jealous nature of the Chinese. However, this
could be overcome by a mediator like the Lama, who would be able to
address the religious side of the ruling Manchu. The religious devotion
of the Chinese Emperor, Qianlong, was therefore far more emphasised
in this ‘contact zone’ than it was in Canton. Another main difference
was that for the EIC in India, the meaning of China as a major, and
expanding, Asian power was of great importance, whereas in Canton,
hardly anybody considered China under this aspect. Already during the
Bogle mission, this facet had become important in the description of
Qianlong. Bogle characterised him as having ‘a violent and imperious
temper’. He wrote that during Qianlong’s conquests in Central Asia, the
monarch had used ‘arts unworthy of a great monarch’ to subdue his ene-
mies. The Scot predicted that in the near future there would be a rupture
with Russia, in which the Chinese could not be victorious. Qianlong
would nevertheless attempt the fight due to his haughty personality.30
It is highly likely that Bogle adopted this view of Qianlong as a violent,
war-loving conqueror from the Lama, who appears to have given him a
less than positive picture of the Chinese Emperor.31
In Bogle’s report, this characterisation of a warmonger had mainly
been restricted to the Emperor himself. However, with the growing crisis
between the British and Nepal on the one side and between the Nepalese
and the Chinese on the other, the meaning of a military power to reckon
with was increasingly attributed to the Chinese in general – independent
of their emperor.
The conquests of the Ghurkha Kingdom in Nepal since the 1760s first
brought the British into a potential direct conflict with the Chinese
Empire.32 As in Canton, a potential conflict between the two Empires
meant that British identity and its acceptance by the Chinese became
important. In the Himalayas, however, the British presented themselves
differently to their countrymen at the South China coast.
The new Ghurkha power in Nepal led to several border conflicts
with the EIC in Bengal as well as some with Tibet.33 In particular, the
new rulers frustrated British trading interests in Nepal.34 In 1791, the
Gurkhas invaded Tibet because the Tibetans had not paid the indem-
nity agreed upon after the first attack in 1789. They captured Shigatse
and plundered the monastery of the Panchen Lama at Tashilhunpo. This
time, however, a Chinese force arrived to secure their protectorate Tibet
before the Gurkhas could retreat with their booty. The Chinese defeated
the Gurkhas, who were forced to agree to give up their loot and send
tribute missions to Beijing once every five years. The Chinese used the
occasion to strengthen their hold on Tibet, influencing the way a new
Dalai Lama was selected. The Tibetans had already asked the British for
help in the conflict of 1789. In 1792, they hoped for British neutrality,
while the Ghurkhas sought their support. Cornwallis, however, then the
Governor-General of Bengal, seems to have been little prepared to enter
into a war in the Himalayas. He only agreed to send Colonel Kirkpatrick
to Nepal to mediate between the fighting parties. However, by the time

he arrived, the Gurkahs had already surrendered to the Chinese and he
could do no more than to try and assure the goodwill of the Gurkhas to
the Company despite their lack of armed support.35
However, his mission gave rise to speculation about the way the Chi-
nese perceived the British actions in the region and about Chinese
expansionist plans. The Chinese were obviously considered to be a more
dangerous military power than, for example, the Gurkhas. The great-
est possible threat to the British, however, was that a military conflict
between the Company and the Chinese in the Himalayas might induce
the Chinese to cut off trade with the British in Canton.36 The almost
complete lack of information about Chinese intentions in this region
and the kind of intelligence they had about the British led to British
insecurity about what to expect from the Chinese. There was the image
of the Chinese Empire as land hungry and expansionist. As Kirkpatrick
remarked in his report in 1811 in retrospect: ‘This Government [the
Bengal] now beheld for the first time, the extraordinary spectacle of a
numerous Chinese force, occupying a position, which probably afforded
it a distant view of the valley of the Ganges, and of the richest of the East
India Company’s Possessions.’37 However, reassuring both himself and
British pride, he immediately added
It is true, that the military character of that people was not of a

stamp to excite, under any circumstances, much fear for the safety
of those Possessions from their future enterprises. Least of all had we
any thing to apprehend from this quarter at the period in question,
when we had just significantly humbled our most formidable enemy,
and were at complete peace throughout India.38
This self-image of a peaceful yet unbeatable strong power in India

was what the British servants of the EIC accordingly tried to promote
in their dealings with the Chinese. The contact in the periphery of
the British expansion meant that, like their colleagues in Canton, they
feared more than anything that the Chinese might have a view of them
which did not correspond with the image they had of themselves. In
contrast to the EIC in Canton, however, the self-image they wanted the
Chinese to accept was less influenced by the idea of showing British
might and power than by wanting to convince the Chinese of the noble
and peaceful character of the British.
Lord Macartney and George Staunton claim that the Chinese indeed
suspected that British troops had been employed to help the Gurkhas
and that therefore the commander of the Chinese troops in Tibet,

Fu-k’ang-an, tried to influence the Chinese Court against the British.
Even though Macartney had not heard about the conflict with the
Gurkhas before his departure, Macartney denied any British involve-
ment in this during the embassy and also exaggerated the dis-
tance between the British realm in India and the Chinese sphere of
influence.39 However, this did little to set the minds of the Company in
India at rest on this issue. They noticed with growing unease that after
their victory over the Gurkhas, the Chinese set up military posts along
the Southern frontier of Nepal and turned the country of the Raja of Seg-
win into their protectorate. The Chinese now had a military presence in
a territory immediately joining the EIC in Bengal. Furthermore, the Chi-
nese presence in the region put a final stop to all trade communications
with Tibet.40
The chimera of Chinese power and the rumours about its possible
actions against the English in the Himalayas as well as in Canton were
the dominant factors for British action in the Nepalese War in 1814–
1816.41 Amid the preparations for the war as well as during it, the lack
of access to either the Chinese information order or to the Tibetan was
particularly problematic. China hung over the entire affair like a spectre.
Lord Moira feared the invasion of a mighty Chinese army, concerned
about the outcome of the war as well as for commerce in Canton. He
also worried about what might happen if the Company were to occupy
the Gurkha territory and thus have a common border with the Chi-
nese Empire.42 In this context, China was still seen as a mighty empire
of almost equal standing with the British. Francis Buchanan for exam-
ple, who had gone to Kathmandu with Captain Knox in 1801, declared:
‘a frontier . . . of seven or eight hundred miles between two powerful
nations holding each other in mutual contempt seems to point at
anything but peace.’43
During the war, several attempts were made to acquire more informa-
tion about the Chinese attitude towards the invasion of Nepal by the
Company.44 At the same time, the lack of access to Chinese informa-
tion in this ‘contact zone’ with the Chinese meant that the ‘Chinese’
remained unidentifiable and ambiguous. This becomes clear in the
instructions given by Lord Moira to Lieutenant Colonel Bradshaw for
the event that he should encounter Chinese troops during his cam-
paign. Due to the ‘loose rumour’ that the Nepalese had actually applied
for Chinese help, it could be expected that the British would encounter
Chinese troops, which should not be engaged in battle, if at all possi-
ble. The difficulty, however, lay in identifying ‘real’ Chinese troops as
opposed to Nepalese troops pretending to be Chinese in order to avoid

British attacks:45
In this event, desired that the answer to be returned by Major General

Marley should be to the following effect: That under the uncertainty
which existed, whether such an intimation came from a Chinese offi-
cer, or was an artifice of the enemy, he could not suspend operations,
and that, deeply as he would lament doing any unintentional injury
to any Chinese troops, whatever opposed him in the field must be
considered as a Goorka force, and treated accordingly.46
The Chinese did not interfere in the Nepal War on the side of the
Nepalese. Despite the agreement under which the Nepalese had sur-
rendered to the Chinese in 1792, the Chinese do not seem to have
thought of Nepal as an important part of its frontier-security system,
but were primarily concerned with the safety of Tibet.47 However, this
was not the image the British held of Chinese interests in the region. In
their minds, an expanding power like the Chinese Empire would jeal-
ously guard its influence over Nepal against any contact between Nepal
and Britain. Here, the experience with the exclusionism of the Canton
system merged with reports of Qing expansion under Qianlong into
Central Asia into the idea of an expansionist empire that would block
every route through the Himalayas. The image of the supposedly sus-
picious and mighty power of the Chinese Empire also continued after
the signing of the peace Treaty of Segauli, which ended the Nepalese
War. Rumours reached the British via their Resident at Kathmandu that
now indeed a Chinese army was marching towards Nepal, perhaps to
punish the Nepalese for going to war with the British and then mak-
ing peace with them without informing the Chinese properly. The crisis
resolved itself without further consequences, since the Chinese with-
drew soon after. Nevertheless, this incident gave Lord Moira another
reason to believe that it was of the utmost importance to explain to
the Chinese the peaceful intentions of the British towards the Chinese
Empire. He hoped to send an English agent to Lhasa, who would be
able to show the Chinese the ‘open and candid dealings of an English
Officer’, quite in contrast to those of the treacherous Nepalese. He also
informed Lord Amherst in detail about the war, should he be asked dur-
ing his embassy to the court. Apparently, however, the Qing officials did
not think it necessary, or were not sufficiently informed, to question
Lord Amherst about this issue.48
Not only in their contact with the Chinese army in this context, but
also in their interaction with the Nepalese, the British tried to conjure up
the image of a close friendship and smooth relations with the Chinese
Empire.49 The hope was obviously to make it clear to the Nepalese that
they had no chance in playing the Chinese and the British against each
other. In this case, China was not so much depicted as a decaying Asian
civilisation, but rather as a potential ally.
One of the results of the Nepal War was the establishment of a per-
manent British Residency in Kathmandu. For the EIC, the Residency
was a means to ensure peace with Nepal and favourable trading con-
dition with this Himalayan country. To strengthen British influence on
the Gurkha Kingdom, the members of the Residency soon set out to
find information about the kingdom and its relation to its neighbours.
Brian Houghton Hodgson, assistant to the Resident and later Resident
in Kathmandu until 1843, was particularly busy in this respect.50
China continued to play a significant role in British interactions
with the Himalayan state and in all its attempts to form knowledge
about the Himalayan region. On the one hand, it remained a rival of
political influence on the Nepalese and continued to be considered a
constant threat to British interests in the region; and the Resident closely
observed Chinese power in Tibet and its relations to Nepal. The British
in Bengal kept a particularly close eye on Nepalese attempts to enlist
Chinese support against the British and feared that British actions or
those of their allies in this area could be considered offensive by the
Chinese.51 On the other hand, trade with China through the Himalayas
still fascinated the British in the North of India. Brian Houghton Hodg-
son contemplated the trading routes through the Himalayas for British
goods in the 1830s and envisaged great trade surpluses through this
route. He hoped to bypass the trading restrictions with China by using
the long-established trade routes between Nepal, Tibet and China and
recorded routes from India to China.52 However, this trade would still
only be restricted to the Company’s Indian subjects.53 Hodgson hoped to
also use this route for the opium trade to Mongolia and China, thus pro-
viding an additional route for this trade which might be less dangerous
than the contraband trade via Canton.54
Increasingly, Russian influences in the region also drew the atten-
tion of the British. Thus Hodgson was also particularly interested in the
Russian trade connections in Nepal and with China. He hoped that by
utilising trading routes through Nepal, Indian traders would be able to
undersell Russians in Szechuan in items such as English wool, hand-
ware and glassware, thus finally discovering a more rewarding outlet for
English goods for those areas of China to which the British did not have
access from Canton.55
However, Hodgson’s interest in Nepal and the Himalaya region went
further than mere trade issues. To further British understanding of the
region and ultimately to further British influence, he conducted inten-
sive research into the ethnography, languages and nature of the region.
He mainly acquired information from local informants on law, religion,
languages and the nature of Nepal.56 He categorised the people of Nepal
into different tribes. He paid particular attention to the ‘military tribes
of Nepal.’57 His main enquiries were directed towards Nepal, but when-
ever possible he also tried to gain further information and books from
China.58 Although his main interest lay in the Indian cultural influ-
ence on Nepal, he also traced some elements of Newar culture to the
Chinese. In particular, he considered the ethnographic origin of the
main Nepalese tribes, in particular the Khas to be Tartarian or Mongol.59
His linguistic and ethnographic research even led him to argue ‘that
the Indo-Chinese, the Chinese, the Tibetans, and the Altaians, have
been too broadly contra-distinguished, and that they form in fact but
one great ethnic family, which moreover includes what are usually
called the Tamilian or Dravidian and the Kol and Munda elements of
Indian population, as well as nearly every element of the population of
Oceania.’60 To support this argument, he also made a physionomic com-
parison of the Tibetan and Nepalese people arguing that their physical
characteristics equally showed all the people mentioned above to be of
one ethnic family, often drawing comparisons between them and the
Chinese.61
Hodgson’s research thus complemented his understanding of the
Himalayan region as a pass between the two great cultures of India
and China. From his point of view, the Mongolians were again of far
greater importance than the Han Chinese and frequently he hardly
distinguished between Mongols and Chinese.62
Hodgson’s interest in the languages of the region between Bengal and
China was linked to the attempts of another group in these years to
exploit the proximity of the British in Bengal to China: the Baptist
missionaries at Serampore, led by Joshua Marshman. He had arrived in
Serampore in 1799 to support the Baptist mission, which until then had
been represented solely by William Carey. As in Canton, the arrival of
missionaries in the periphery meant that the study of language became
pre-eminent. Of course, the main focus of missionary study was the lan-
guages of India.63 The global claim of the missionaries, however, made
them interested in the adjoining countries, preparing for the further
expansion of the Christian faith. Marshman thus sought to profit from

the Chinese population in Calcutta as well as from the reports from
Nepal and Burma regarding the proximity of the Chinese Empire.64 He
managed to secure a teaching position in 1805 for Joannes Lassar, an
Armenian Christian from Macao who had learned Chinese as a child.65
Thus, the first ever formal British teaching position for Chinese was
established neither in London nor in Canton, but rather in Calcutta.66
With Lassar’s help and the mission press in Serampore, Marshman pub-
lished a Chinese translation of St. Matthew’s gospel in 1810 and a full
Bible in 1822, even before Morrison could finish his project.67 He also
produced a translation of Confucius’s work and a Chinese grammar,
which paid great attention to positioning Chinese in the context of
Greek and especially Sanskrit.
Elmer H. Cutts has pointed to the political connection of this mis-
sionary project. First of all the establishment of a Professorship at the
College of Fort William shows that the Company, or at least their rep-
resentatives on the spot, were interested in the knowledge of Chinese.
This becomes even more evident when one considers that Governor-
General Lord Minto, who was not all that favourably inclined towards
the missionary project, was a great supporter of this work. Marshman
even dedicated his translation of Confucius to him, thanking him for his
encouragement of the study of the Chinese language in Bengal.68 Cutts
believes that these attempts to establish a British faculty for Chinese
studies at Calcutta were merely there to furnish a possible second British
Embassy to Beijing with a British interpreter.69 However, it probably
also had wider implications, in the context of British ideas on China in
Bengal discussed above. Marshman, for instance, constantly paid great
attention not only to the Chinese Empire and its language itself, but
also to its influence on its neighbouring countries. For example, follow-
ing an observation on the spread of Sanskrit as well as Chinese elements
into the languages of East Asia, he stated that ‘to those who reflect on
this intermixture of the Sungskrit with the Chinese system in the lan-
guages of these countries, one fact will appear evident, that not a step
can be effectually taken in the investigation of the language of any of
the countries beyond Bengal, without some acquaintance with both the
systems.’70 When he first learned about the LMS sending out a mission-
ary to China, he defended the continuation of his studies of Chinese
at Serampore with its closeness to China and the multitude of Chinese
living in Calcutta. He compared it with a Fort, where the ‘experienced
general’ could assemble and prepare his forces for the ‘grand assault at
the first favourable opportunity’. As long as the Chinese Empire was
closed to foreigners, he argued, this was the best option, better than
waiting in vain in Canton.71
In his correspondence with the BMS (Baptist Missionary Society) in
Britain, he also laid down a scheme of how the missionaries could
establish stations in Burma, which would bring them practically to the
Chinese border. From there, it wouldn’t be a problem in the eyes of
Marshman, to send ‘the scriptures in separate books presented neatly
like Confucius, into the very heart of China!’72 Like his fellow country-
men from the EIC, he saw the countries east of Bengal as a passage to
China well into the 1820s.
Except for these plans by the missionaries, which were never realised,
the idea to use this route, or the one through Tibet, for diplomatic com-
munication with China was abandoned. It was only contemplated one
more time, by the Select Committee in Canton in 1822.73 With it, the
perception of the Chinese Emperor as a Tibetan Buddhist, and his rela-
tion to the Dalai Lama became less important again. It seems to have
been of interest mainly in its political implications. The importance of
Tibetan Buddhism as a religion of the Manchu Emperors played no great
role for the missionaries, who concentrated their work and their transla-
tions on the ‘Chinese Bible’ – the Four Books of Confucius. This was also
true for Joshua Marshman.74 Tellingly, his teacher came from Macao and
his main source of Chinese books equally seems to have been the coun-
try trade with South China. Buddhism was increasingly seen as a mainly
Indian religion. Hodgson had an exchange with the French Professor for
Sinology, Abel Rémusat, about some aspects of Buddhism. He claimed,
that as the latter extrapolated his information from Chinese works, he
was bound to misunderstand some of the central concepts of Buddhism
as ‘No wonder, . . . , if I discovered very many things inscrutably hidden
from those who were reduced to consult barbarian translations from
the most refined and copious of languages upon the most subtle and
interminable of topics.’75
China as a Central Asian power remained of a certain interest in
the 19th century, mainly due to the increasing British fear of Russian
activities in the region.76 The question of how the Chinese Emperor
related to British presence in India resurfaced again during the Opium
War, in particular when the Sikh under General Zorawar Singh invaded
and occupied Western Tibet, which was still under Chinese overlord-
ship. Hodgson had long suspected that the Nepalese were trying to
enlist Chinese help against the British, particularly after they had
learned of the conflict between the British and the Chinese Empire in
Canton.77 Being at war with the Chinese on the South China coast,
the British in India had little interest in opening a second frontier

with the Chinese Empire in the Himalayas and feared that the Chinese
might do exactly this with the help of the Nepalese.78 In this context,
J. D. Cunningham 1842 still described China as a ‘consolidated empire’
in contrast to the ‘contests of barbarous peoples’, arguing that none of
Britain’s Indian allies or subordinate states should try to invade Chinese
territory.79
For the Anglo-Indian British, China and the Chinese always remained
an indirect presence; one they were connected to through letters to and
from Canton, rumours at the borders of Bengal and economic inter-
ests. Knowledge about Chinese religion, ethnic origin and language were
used to assess a potentially dangerous neighbour and to gain influence
over it. The image of China formed in this context, while influenced by
reflections in Britain and India on the despotic nature of Asian govern-
ments, was mainly shaped by contact with people under the Chinese
sphere of influence in Central Asia. However, if we move further along
the routes of the second British Empire in the East, we inevitably reach
what is now termed Southeast Asia.80
Where Hastings had sought access to China through the Himalayas,
Alexander Dalrymple and his successors hoped to find a solution to the
British China trade through entrepôts in the Malayan Archipelago. They
attempted to use the networks of traders in this region to overcome Chi-
nese restrictions on European trade. By doing this, they encountered the
Chinese diaspora in Southeast Asia, and, as in Penang, briefly in Malacca
and Java and then in Singapore, the Chinese increasingly became their
subjects. The remainder of the chapter explores how a different mean-
ing of China was shaped in the context of these ‘contact zones’ and the
significance this had for other British encounters with China.
4.2 Chinese subjects for the empire
One Briton who travelled the routes which connected the British pres-
ence in Asia was John Leyden. He was a Scottish linguist and poet who
had contributed to the study of old Scottish literature. He befriended
Sir Walter Scott and helped him with the collection of the oral tradi-
tions of the Highland Scots. Not gaining an appointment as a minister
in a church as soon as he had hoped, he looked for better opportuni-
ties in the service of the Empire and joined the EIC as medical staff
in Madras. There, he soon became a member of the Mysore survey
under Major Mackenzie. After collecting and standardising the cultural
tradition of Scotland, he thus went on to catalogue and collect the South
Indian landscape, history and cultural tradition. In October 1805, he

went from India to Penang for health reasons. There, he met Thomas
Raffles who had just arrived a month earlier from England to fill the
position of assistant secretary to the Governor Philip Dundas. Raffles’s
interest for Malay and the development of British rule in Southeast Asia
coincided with Leyden’s fascination with languages in general and his
interest in issues of colonial rule. Leyden lived in Raffles’s home during
the 12 weeks of his convalescence and soon the two became friends.
His visit to Penang inspired Leyden not only to study Malay, but also
to attempt to learn Chinese.81 The result of his stay on this Southeast
Asian island was an article in the Asiatic Researchers, entitled ‘On the
Language and Literature of the Indo-Chinese nations’. Here, he classi-
fied the languages of the people between India and China according
to their historic relationship, by this also attempting to establish their
degree of civilisation.82
He used Chinese as a language of comparison to the languages in
Southeast Asia, to determine the relation of these people to China.83
His reference to the Chinese language itself makes clear that in Penang
he had developed an understanding of Chinese that was quite different
from that of Canton or Marshman’s in Bengal. While the British in those
places had been aware that there were different Chinese dialects, they
nevertheless came up with the idea of one main Chinese language, the
Mandarin, which they endeavoured to study and which was the basis
for their Chinese-English grammars and dictionaries. The only admis-
sion of the variety of languages in China was Morrison’s ‘Vocabulary
of the Canton dialect’, for the practical use of the EIC employees at
Canton. This however did not lead to any doubts that one could make
general assumptions and study ‘the Chinese’.84 Thus Morrison’s dictio-
nary is entitled ‘A Chinese – English dictionary’, not considering the
dialects of China as being fundamentally different.85
In contrast, Leyden explained that it was hardly possible to say any-
thing about the connection of Chinese and the other languages of the
region, since there was such a plurality of Chinese languages:
In the course of some enquiries that I made among the Chinese of

Penang, I found that four or five languages were current among them,
which were totally distinct from each other, and the names of several
others were mentioned. I was informed that the principal Chinese
languages were ten in number; but I have found that considerable
variety occurred in the enumeration of their names, and suspect that
they are considerably more numerous in reality.86
After his return to India, Leyden asked Raffles to send him some copies
of the books of Confucius for further study. We do not know whether
Leyden would have developed into another ‘China-expert’ with a South-
east Asian provenance had he not died five years later in Java at the
age of 36.87
Leyden, in his background and his way of employment, is emblematic
for a number of those Britons who were involved in the British expan-
sion in Southeast Asia. Like him, Colin Mackenzie and John Crawfurd,
who were prominent in the context of the Java expedition and later
the administration of Singapore, were Scottish and like him they had
done their first imperial service in India.88 Thomas Raffles had started
his career in the East in Penang. Nevertheless, the patronage of Lord
Minto, Governor-General of Bengal, and his contact with further Anglo-
Indians also soon connected Raffles to the Company’s rule in India and
the concepts that were evolved in that context. It was this group, as well
as the Protestant missionaries, who met with the Overseas Chinese in
Southeast Asia and from this encounter developed a specific meaning of
China.
As in the other ‘contact zones’, the Chinese language, law, religious
beliefs and the definition of Britishness were the main fields in which
the meaning of China and the Chinese was developed in the encounter
in Southeast Asia. In contrast to Canton and Bengal, in Southeast Asia,
the British encountered a population of Chinese origin rather than the
Chinese Empire. It was here that the British first came to rule over a
Chinese population, but also to co-operate with them to further their
expansion. The British attempt to see the Chinese population as distinct
from Chinese rule was to become one of the characteristic elements of
the British attitude in this period and of significant importance during
the debate about the EIC’s monopoly, and, as we have seen, in the run
up to the Opium War.89 The strongest development of this meaning of
China emerged in Southeast Asia.
The ideas about Chinese language, tradition and population devel-
oped in Southeast Asia had considerable influence on the formation
of ideas on China in Britain itself. After all, the first ordinary profes-
sor for Chinese at a British university, Reverend Samuel Kidd had never
entered China but had only studied Chinese in Southeast Asia.90 This
notwithstanding, this crucial contact zone has been mainly overlooked
in the discussion of British attitudes to China.91
In the entrepôts of the European powers in Southeast Asia, two
expanding networks met; the Chinese trade and labour immigration
and the European trade, missionary and colonial expansion.92 From the
17th century onwards, Chinese immigration into Southeast Asia had
increased significantly. Only in the later part of the 18th century did
this migration become more entangled with the European presence in
the region.93 Carl A. Trocki has divided this migration into five peri-
ods, from the 17th to the 20th century. According to him, the period
between 1800 and 1830 was marked by a rapid increase in Chinese set-
tlements and the junk trade, following the impulses of the European
expansion in the region. Particularly, British capital and British con-
sumers enabled a massive increase in migration. In these years, the
British also started to become increasingly aware of a numerous Chinese
population in Southeast Asia.
After 1830, Trocki argues, the junk trade gradually declined, pushed
aside by European networks.94 At the same time, the colonial European
powers in Southeast Asia increasingly tried to control the settlements
of the Overseas Chinese in their colonies and thus transformed the
economic systems of the Chinese into one more integrated in the
world capitalist market. To achieve this control, they created the idea of
‘respectable’ Chinese as collaborators, who would exercise control over
their Chinese subjects.95 The Chinese migrants were organised in kong-
sis, which according to Trocki, mainly served an economic purpose and
gave the Chinese an institutional framework which allowed them to
settle and trade in Southeast Asia so successfully.96 The migrants were
almost entirely male. They often left a wife back in their Chinese village
to whom they sent money. It was also assumed that they would ulti-
mately return to their place of origin. However, the Chinese migrants
often took a second local wife and frequently remained abroad.97 The
children of these mixed marriages in most cases spoke the local lan-
guage, for example Malay, but would still see themselves as Chinese.
Thus, a Peranakan or Baba society came into existence, a society of
mixed Malay and Chinese background, who however still considered
themselves to have a Chinese identity.98
British expansionist interests in Southeast Asia had started over 40
years before Leyden’s journey to Penang with Alexander Dalrymple,
a young Scottish writer for the EIC in Madras. He had studied travel
reports intensively before going out, especially Edward Kimber’s Life and
Adventures of Joe Thompson and Jan Nieuhoff’s account of the Dutch
embassy to Peking.99 The promises as well as the difficulties of the China
trade were therefore already in his mind when he set out to India,
combined with the idea of the struggle for dominance between Britain,
France, Spain and the Netherlands. As his lifelong obsession with the
Southern Continent and the North-West passage showed, one of his
fundamental beliefs was the possibilities and advantages provided by
discovery of land, people and new commodities. As an up-and-coming
young employee, he furthered these studies in a more systematic way

by reading the files of the EIC as well as travel reports in Madras. One
of the most influential of these seems to have been a Spanish history of
the Philippines, from which he learned that the Sulu Archipelago had
once served as a trade centre for trade with China, Japan and Southeast
Asia.100 He devised new schemes to improve the trade of the EIC and
partly also the export of British manufactured goods.101
Driven by his wish for discovery, he pushed through a voyage to the
South Eastern Islands, in the schooner Cuddalore, to explore a possible
new route for the China ships of the EIC and a trading centre. The travel
reports and EIC records had already convinced him of the necessity of
a British port in this area, a conviction probably encouraged by conver-
sations with country traders in Madras. This journey was significant in
several ways.
On the way to the Sulu Archipelago, Dalrymple had to stop over at
Canton, where he encountered problems with the Chinese authorities,
since he did not want to pay the duties applicable to trading ships. This
might have reinforced his relatively negative opinion of the Chinese
which he had formed in Madras.102 Furthermore, while at Sulu, he
closely observed the trade going on there, which did not quite meet the
expectations of a busy trading port which he had formed by reading the
Spanish history of the region. He did however encounter two Chinese
junks which traded there, and was thus convinced that the decline of
the trade was solely the fault of the Sultan.103 There, he could also
acquire the information of what the supposedly self-sufficient Chinese
empire was interested in buying, namely ‘Pearls, Mother of Pearl, Bird-
Nest, Beetle-nut, Sea-Slug, Cockles, Lacka-wood, Ebony, Agal-Agal’.104
When he returned to Madras in 1762 he was sure that the solution
to the British trade in Asia was an entrepôt in the Sulu Archipelago,
by which one could circumvent the problems with the Chinese at
Canton.105 Rather than being discouraged by observing the meagre trade
at Sulu, he believed in what he had read and was convinced that it only
required the British to transform this place back into the buzzing trading
knot it had once been. Dalrymple’s next move, the attempt to establish
this entrepôt at Balambangan, was an endeavour to give the British a
foothold in this trading network. The main motive was to create an
investment opportunity for the British in the Asian networks of com-
merce, rather than providing an outlet for the products of the nascent
British industry.106
Dalrymple however was also concerned with British manufactur-
ing interests, employing the myth of the large demand for British
woollen goods in Northern China. He argued that if one could trade

British woollen goods to the Chinese junks at such an entrepôt, the
Chinese merchants could sell them directly at the northern Chinese
harbours, where they would actually be needed. Dalrymple seems to
have got the idea of Chinese need for woollen goods from Prake’s ded-
ication to Thomas Cavendish, in his 1588 translation of Juan Conzalez
de Mendosa’s The History of the Great and Mighty Kingdom of China.107
Due either to a lack of better information or to the idea of an unchang-
ing China, he merged this almost two hundred year-old information
with scant bits of gossip from Canton108 and with the demands of the
British manufacturers for new markets to create the idea of a trading
opportunity in China. Dalrymple returned to London in 1765 since he
saw no opportunity to further his scheme from India.
Dalrymple’s scheme was however only put into practice in 1772/1773,
under the command of John Herbert. Dalrymple had lost his leadership
of the enterprise through a stubborn fight with the Directors over the
conditions of his employment. During this episode, he published his
plan in order to increase the pressure on the Company.109
As the Dalrymple project showed, Southeast Asia had become inter-
esting to the British as a possible door into the China market as well as
an outlet for Indian products. However, it was only after 1780 that the
efforts to establish a base in the region were increased, to a large extent
due to strategic considerations.110 The war with the French served as a
strong impulse for this from the 1790s onwards. The British acquired
Penang in 1786. During the Napoleonic Wars, they occupied the Dutch
colonies Malacca in 1795 and Java in 1811, fearing that they might
otherwise fall into French hands. After the end of the war, these pos-
sessions were returned to the Dutch to help the Netherlands to recover
economically and thus create a buffer state against possible new French
aspirations on the continent. The temporary possession of these places
was, however, crucial for further British involvement in the region.
Thomas Stamford Raffles had been governor of Java from 1811 to 1815
and this period had convinced him of the profit that could be made in
this area if the British could dictate the terms of trade. The final result
of this period of increased trade by British merchants in Southeast Asia,
especially by the Indian agency houses, was the establishment of the EIC
factory on Singapore in 1819.111 With the Anglo-Dutch treaty in 1824,
Malacca was ceded again to the British.
This expansion was, in the first instance, dominated by political
considerations during the Napoleonic Wars. Especially for the EIC
agents and the country traders in the region, however, the economic
advantages of possessions in the region also played an important role.

Here the rhetoric of free trade was used to legitimise the British expan-
sion against the Dutch monopoly, but sometimes also that of the EIC,
in the region. Connected with this was the accusation that the Dutch
had neglected to improve the native population, or even worsened their
condition.112 The notion of an earlier, higher, civilisation which had
now decayed was dominant in this context. The contemporary Malays
and Javanese were deemed to be at a very low stage of civilisation by
now, in contrast to their glorious past.113
Accordingly, the British justified their presence in the region by
highlighting that they would improve the condition of the native popu-
lation. This argument could be directed not only against other European
rivals, but also against the Chinese. The reasoning, however, varied
between the maritime entrepôts Malacca, Penang and Singapore on the
one hand and the more agricultural Java on the other. The main actors
in this expansion were agents of the EIC, such as Thomas Raffles and
John Crawfurd. Most of them had been formed in the service of the EIC
in the colonial Indian context, rather than in the more trade-oriented
one of Canton. At the same time, the Protestant missionaries left Canton
for Southeast Asia.
In Southeast Asia, they encountered next to the local population
sojourners, traders and recent settlers, such as the Arabs and the migrant
Chinese. The Chinese presented to them a non-indigenous population,
who just very recently had started to flow into this region in larger num-
bers as settlers and traders. Since there was no state power behind this
process, the Chinese were no direct competition to the British presence
in Southeast Asia – in the sense that the Dutch and the French were.
Quite in contrast, they provided the workforce and established trade
links the British needed to fully use their new acquisitions in the region.
As Carl Trocki has pointed out, the British thus did not understand them
as a separate movement, with a pattern and history only marginally
linked to the Europeans, but rather they saw only how they related to
their own expansion.114
It was difficult for the British to make sense of the cultural diversity
they encountered in Southeast Asia.115 The British traders and ser-
vants of the EIC could see both the Javanese and the Malay-speaking
population as natives who belonged to an ancient, but decayed,
culture.116 In contrast, the Overseas Chinese were still clearly seen as
members of the Chinese Empire, even though it was acknowledged that
some of them had lived in the Straits for generations and intermarried
with Malay women. Next to their distinction into native population,
sojourners and later settlers, the British ranked the different peoples they
encountered on a scale of civilisations.117
To describe the main characteristic of the Chinese, the British agents
of the EIC used the trope of the industrious worker.118 They were
described as perfect workers and colonial citizens. The industrious Chi-
nese thus resembled the ideal of the working member of the lower
classes, who was industrious and well behaved.119
The Chinese were considered to be naturally hard working and law
abiding. For example, John Crawfurd described how the Chinese arrived
in Southeast Asia with only ‘the coat on their backs, a bundle of old
clothes, and a dirty mat and pillow to sleep on’. However, according to
him, they quickly improved their situation through personal skill, dex-
terity and ingenuity.120 One of the main explanations by the British of
the industrious habit of the Chinese followed the Malthusian argument
of population pressure. ‘The abundance of population in China’ was
thus one of the main explanations for their emigration.121 For Crawfurd,
the reason for the industry of the Chinese also followed the patterns
analysed by Malthus: the security of life and property in China, in com-
bination with a fertile country, had produced ‘an immense population,
and the pressure of population against the means of subsistence has,
by necessity, begot a patient and systematic industry unknown to other
Asiatic nations.’122
He does not discuss, however, that for the newly arrived immigrants
from China, who often were bound to their employers through the
credit-ticket system, there was hardly any option other than to work
extremely hard to re-pay their debts. In most cases, they had little choice
but to accept the employment they were assigned by those who had paid
their passage. The kongsis, instead of giving new arrivals the option to
quickly earn themselves a share in the plantation or mining enterprise,
could turn into an instrument of repression by the better established
Chinese.123 Adaptations to economic necessity were thus described by
the British as inherent natural characteristics of the Chinese.
This view made it easier for the British to make use of the system of
Chinese migration and not to feel morally obliged to intervene in the
exploitation of the new Chinese immigrants. The Javanese and Malays
who refused to partake in these mining and plantation jobs were thus
seen as lazy and indolent.124
Without support from their government, the local rulers or tradi-
tional, localised social networks, the Chinese also presented the ideal
new working population for the British possessions in Southeast Asia.
It seemed to be possible to transplant the Chinese wherever they were
needed for the British imperial project.125 Some, such as the travel writer
Alick Osborne, could imagine Southeast Asia might turn into a second
America, attracting an industrious Chinese population, in the same way
America had attracted European settlers. And as America had prospered
under the European influence, the Chinese in Southeast Asia ‘mainly
contributed to excite and support the energies of the native popula-
tion, and have diffused the impetus of their own activity wherever
they have settled, and that protection only is wanted to accumulate
them in any numbers, to create, it may be said, a second China.’126
The self-reliant Chinese thus needed no more than British protection
and would then sustain themselves and produce profit for the British
Empire.127 With a population like this, under British rule, the British
could succeed in improving this region and bring it to its full potential.
Interestingly enough, the huge market and industrious agrarian pop-
ulation of China served as a positive example, although this ‘second
China’ would flourish under the benevolent protection of the British
rather than Chinese despotism.
In the minds of those concerned with British trade and colonies, the
Chinese occupied a middle ground between slaves and British settlers.
With the abolition movement gaining increasing momentum and the
slave revolts in the French colonies, slaves were considered to be more
and more problematic.128 At the same time, the discussion about the
EIC restrictions on immigration of Britons into India in 1813 and 1830s
shows the doubts the British EIC servants had about the influx of the
British lower orders into its Asian possessions. In accordance with the
contemporary debate about the uncivilised lower classes in Britain, they
were seen to be unruly – unable to live together with the Indian pop-
ulation peacefully.129 In contrast, the Chinese were considered to be
industrious and law abiding, voluntarily moving to wherever one gave
them protection and the possibility to work.
The most extreme example of this image was the plan to introduce
Chinese workers in the West Indies. One of Raffles’s correspondents saw
Chinese plantation workers as a possible bulwark against revolutionary
African slaves. As free cultivators they would be more industrious than
slaves and due to their diligent character they could become proprietors
themselves under British guidance.130 They thus could build a commu-
nity with a set of interests and habits that connected them more closely
to the British landowners than those of the slaves. In 1814, Captain
Layman published a similar proposition in the Gentlemen’s Magazine.
After a failed first attempt in 1811, he suggested that the Chinese had to
be settled in the West Indies in groups, with Chinese wives, so that they
could keep their Chinese characteristics. He also claimed that during
the first project, one had selected the wrong Chinese: Lazzaroni-men
from Macao, who already had been corrupted by the Portuguese city.
Only the real Chinese from the countryside, much like the idealised
British peasant, had the qualities that made him a good worker. His nat-
ural habit of industry was at the same time supported by his wish for
gain.131 This was a characteristic repeatedly ascribed to the Chinese; it
could be positive, as in this context, or negative, referring to the cor-
rupt Chinese Mandarins. As settlers and immigrants, as well as traders,
the Chinese were thus considered by some Britons to have a far greater
resemblance to the active Europeans than the lazy Malays or Javanese.
Additionally, Alick Osborne thought that they adapted more easily to
the European culture than the Muslim Arabs or Malays.132 However,
most British observers agreed quickly that the industry of the Chinese
lacked the moral quality of that of the British: the Chinese only pursued
gain, not improvement.133
In the context of cultural and ethnic diversity of Southeast Asia,
Chinese physical characteristics became increasingly important.134 John
Crawfurd, who had served the EIC in Penang, Java and later as Resi-
dent of Singapore described the Chinese he encountered in Southeast
Asia thus: ‘A Chinese is at least two inches taller than a Siamese, and by
three inches taller than a Cochin Chinese, a Malay, or a Javanese; and
his frame is proportionably (sic!) strong and well built . . . . Their superi-
ority in personal skill, dexterity, and ingenuity are still greater.’135 There
seems to have been an agreement that while these physical characteris-
tics, and also the mental quality, might have resulted from the special
circumstances of the Chinese Empire, they were hereditary by now.
There were diverging opinions on how these characteristics were
affected by intermarriage with Malay women in Southeast Asia: In this
context, it was debated whether interracial marriage was positive or
rather destroyed the purity, and with it the positive characteristics, of
a group. Minto, during his visit to Malacca, considered the Chinese
influence on the Malay population as an improvement:
The Chinese emigrants never bring women with them, but fore-
gather with Malay females – mostly slaves – and leave them behind
when they go home. At Malacca they have married the daughters of
these Malay mothers and these, inter-marrying, have, in a number of
generations, converted the Malay coarse clay into fine China, . . .136
Crawfurd, in contrast, believed that these unions of Chinese and Malays

were only destroying the positive characteristics of the Chinese:
Many of the Chinese return to their own country, and the first inten-
tion of every emigrant is probably to do so, but circumstances detain
a number of them in the islands, who, intermarrying with the native
of the country, generate a race inferior in energy and spirit to the orig-
inal settler, but speaking the language, wearing the garb, professing
the religion, and affecting the manners of the parent country.137
The question of the inherent characteristics of the Chinese race had

become important in Southeast Asia, but never entered the debate in
Canton.138 Here, it served mainly as an argument for the assessment of
the different cultures the British encountered and their usefulness for
the British imperial project, rather than to classify the Chinese in the
context of theories of race and the natural history of man, as it would
become important in the metropolis in these years.
The British EIC agents had, for the moment, formed an idea of the
Chinese as ideal colonial subjects, which were useful objects as long
as the native population had not developed enough. This idea would
remain strong during the 19th century.139 Opium smoking was men-
tioned occasionally, but the idea of the lazy, undisciplined Chinese
Opium wreck would only develop gradually to become in certain con-
texts a stronger trope than the idea of the industrious Chinese.140
Chinese agricultural and mining workers and small traders were not
the only members of the Chinese migrant community. Rich Nan yang
Chinese, Captain Chinas and Chinese landlords, however, did not fit
very well into the British idea of a perfect colonial subject. This became
a major issue for the first time during the British occupation of Java.
This thus became an important ‘contact zone’ between the British and
the Chinese which shows the ambiguity of the early colonial encounter
between the two groups and the way this shaped the British meaning of
the Chinese, putting them into a more negative light.
4.3 Co-operator and corruptor
During the British occupation of Java, the role of the Chinese in the
Dutch colony played a crucial part in debates about British govern-
ment of the island. This was one of the first places where the EIC
had to come to terms with a significant and well-established Chinese
population in their endeavours to establish a strong colonial govern-

ment. Java was also the first opportunity for Raffles, in the position of
Lieutenant-Governor to recommend himself for further promotion in
the EIC service. Additionally, Lord Minto, who had led the attack on
Java, and Raffles tried to defend this action before the Court of Direc-
tors and the Board of Control by highlighting the economic potential
of Java.141 In his attempt to show that Java was a worthwhile colony, Raf-
fles decided to introduce major reforms, during which he had to tackle
the strong position of the Chinese on the island, both as landholders
and tax farmers. To understand the way the British EIC agents shaped
their idea of the Chinese in this context, we first have to understand the
Chinese–Dutch relations before Java fell into British hands, since in the
case of Java the transfer of ideas between the two European empires,
the Dutch and the British, became important in assessing the Chinese.
The Dutch EIC had founded Batavia in 1619 and gradually became an
imperial power there, especially with control of the north coast of Java.
At the end of the 17th century, increasing numbers of Chinese immi-
grants came to Java.142 The Dutch, on the one hand, made use of the
Chinese for their trade and exercise of power on Java. On the other, they
grew increasingly suspicious of this separate force, especially after the
uprising that led to the massacre of Chinese in Batavia in 1740.143 There-
fore the Dutch government, for example, prohibited the regents to lease
their villages to the Chinese or to let them settle in their Regencies.144
This did not mean, however, that in practice, the Dutch themselves did
not farm out large areas to the Chinese.145
The negative attitude towards the Chinese was reinforced during the
reform attempts of the VOC (Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie) at
the turn of the century. Here, British ideas about land revenue became
influential. They were especially made known through Dirk van Hogen-
dorp, who had met Cornwallis in Bengal and had been impressed
by his zemindari revenue system. Hogendorp mainly advocated that
the Javanese cultivators should hold the property of the land they
were working, thus encouraging their productivity. Together with Raf-
fles and H. W. Muntinghe, he connected British and Dutch ideas on
imperial expansion and colonial administration.146 Marshall Daendels,
Governor-General of Batavia under the French rule, also toyed with
ideas of land reform, but finally decided that the Javanese were not
ready for it.147 The transfer of some ideas on land possession and rev-
enue from British Bengal into the arsenal of ideas of the Dutch reformers
meant that the Chinese proprietors and tax collectors were now con-
sidered to be even more problematic. They were no longer needed as
intermediaries if the government wanted to collect the revenue directly

from those who cultivated the land. Moreover, they owned land which
the Dutch especially preferred to see in European hands. Some Dutch,
like Hogendorp, thus demanded that Chinese immigration should be
controlled, that they should pay higher taxes and only be allowed to
acquire uncultivated land.148
These attitudes to the Chinese on Java also became crucial for the
British position towards its new Chinese subjects after their conquest
in 1811. Raffles collected all sorts of information during his time in
Penang and Malacca on Dutch Java,149 picking up the Dutch ideas on
the Chinese there. The report ‘Considerations on how to deal with
the Dutch Possessions in the East Indies if they should be captured’,150
already warns of the Chinese in Java and includes all the negative char-
acteristics the Dutch attributed to the Chinese. Not only due to their
diligence and industry, but also because of their deceitful character and
use of corruption, the report claims, the Chinese had become extremely
rich and politically influential. Their strong position on the island, how-
ever, brought it no good. The Chinese transferred most of their gains
back to China, thus draining the country of its riches. They also sup-
pressed the native population, who being of a ‘slower though less crafty
genius’ could not compete with them. In their treatment of these depen-
dent natives, the Chinese were allegedly even worse than the Dutch:
‘Bad as the Dutch have been, they rise high in the Scale in compar-
ison with the Chinese, who in their gross and unfeeling treatment
of the unfortunate Native are guilty of overbearing and gripings that
Europeans cannot acknowledge or even to the full extent be acquainted
with.’151 The Chinese were thus not only a threat to the economic profit
of the colonial government due to their greediness and export of money,
but also because of their deceptive charm. Their victims would notice
too late how they became dependent on the Chinese. From industrious
workers, the Chinese had turned into the dangerous ‘Other’, amoral and
seductive.
After the surrender of Java to the British, Lord Minto appointed Raf-
fles Lieutenant-Governor of Java. The Council, with whose support he
should govern, consisted of Colonel Gillespie, commander of the British
forces, and the two Dutchmen H. W. Muntinghe and Jacob William
Cranssen.152 Following Minto’s advice to introduce a land revenue sys-
tem in Java based on the principles of free trade and cultivation to
finance the government, Raffles appointed a commission in 1812 to
look into these matters. Raffles hoped that through these reforms he
could make Java a profitable colony and persuade the Court of Directors
and the Board of Control not to hand it back to the Dutch.153 Colin
Mackenzie, who had already served as survey-general in Madras, was
appointed head of the Commission, while the other members were
Dutch and had belonged to the Dutch colonial government: Frederik
Jacob Rothenbuhler, Jan Knops and Pieter Herbertus Lawick van Pabst.
The main aim of the Mackenzie Commission was to establish whether
there was a system of land property and who held the rights to land and
revenue.154 From this, a new system of land rent could then establish
direct access to the land by the EIC revenue and control over the land,
bypassing the Javanese regents. Influenced by British ideas on property
rights, Raffles hoped that in the new system, which allowed a secure
system of land rent and taxes, the peasants would increase their produc-
tivity because they could now be certain that they could keep a large
proportion of the results of their labour. Breaking the feudal power of
the Javanese Regents would also allow the British to collect the revenue
in cash.155 The reform should also ensure that the specie available on
Java would circulate freely and could be ‘withdrawn from the hands of
Chinese farmers and monopolists’.156
The result was thus a peculiar mixture of Dutch and British ideas on
state administration and the imperial project. The British mainly tried to
introduce the systems they had developed in India. Mackenzie seems to
have favoured the ryotwar system whereas Raffles preferred in the begin-
ning the village system, in which the bekels, or village chiefs, would
hold the land lease.157 As we have seen, similar ideas had already circu-
lated amongst the Dutch on Java, through the tracts by van Hogendorp.
Additionally, Raffles, Crawfurd and Mackenzie were convinced that the
Javanese had originally been a Hindu culture, now corrupted by Islam.158
The principles of the organisation of society, which the British believed
they had discovered in India, constantly served as a foil to their study
of Javanese land rights. This made it possible for the British to quickly
conceptualise Javanese society as well as to transfer the systems they had
developed in India.159 The point of reference was the ancient Javanese
society, which the new Chinese immigrants did not belong to. The latter
could thus only be seen as intruders, who did not possess the moral qual-
ities of the British to support the Javanese in their improvement process.
Along with these influences, the Dutch mistrust of a strong Chinese
power in the Javanese countryside was again reflected in the reports
of the Dutch members of the Mackenzie commission and so found
its way into British governmental decisions. While Mackenzie hardly
mentioned the Chinese in his final report, van Pabst, Knops and
Rothenbuhler were clear in their negative verdict on them. They all
agreed that the regents should receive a part of the land they had
ruled over before as private property and that the rest should be sold;
preferably to Europeans, but also to the Javanese and non-European for-
eigners. The only exception to this should be the Chinese. The Dutch
were clearly worried about the large numbers of Chinese arriving each
year and about the accumulation of land by certain Chinese families.
They created the image of a never-ending stream of Chinese immigrants,
who were mostly ‘the out Cast (sic!) of the Nation, robbers, gamblers &’.
Also, their industrious habit and their ability to live frugally were con-
sidered dangerous.160 Rothenbuhler took great care to dismiss the idea
of the very industrious Chinese as a myth, claiming that the districts
in their possession were only flourishing because the natives there were
already freed from the feudal services, not because of good management
by the Chinese.161
Nevertheless, Raffles recognised the sale of the lands of Besuki and
Panarukan to the Captain China of Surabaya, Han Tjan Pit by Daendels
in 1810. Here, the idea of private property, and especially the eco-
nomic problem of how to compensate the proprietor in the case of an
annulment of the contract, overruled the wish to remove the Chinese
landholder.162
As becomes clear from these accounts, there was a thin line between
the idea of the Chinese as a model workforce and as dangerous com-
petitors. They could only be considered in a positive light for so long as
they helped the British to improve a country and increase their profit. If
they seemed to assume too much power themselves, they were described
to be even less capable than other European powers to do the best
for the host country and therefore could claim no legitimacy to rule
the natives there. The British thus readily accepted the negative Dutch
stereotypes of the Chinese on Java, especially of the moral inadequacy
and oppressive nature of the Chinese.
This diminished the Chinese claim to land and trade, which their
industry and skill in agriculture could give them. For, the British argued,
unlike themselves the Chinese were using these positive attributes only
for self-gain and not for moral and scientific improvement. John Craw-
furd, for example, who never completely joined Raffles and the Dutch
in his condemnation of the Chinese on Java, thought of the Chinese
as good traders, industrious workers and good middlemen between the
natives and the Europeans. Nevertheless, to him they were still on a
far lower level of civilisation than the European nations, even if they
were number one amongst the ‘Asian nations’. Their commercial activ-
ity, their manual skill and their ability to build ships might have been
superior to all other nations of Asia, but were still not comparable to the
Europeans.163 Above all, however, they lacked a moral agenda in their
industry, such as the progress of science or the improvement of the peo-
ple: ‘They are the least conscientious people alive; the constant prospect
of gain or advantage must be presented to them to induce them to fulfil
their engagements, which they will always evade when their judgment
is not satisfied that an adherence to them will be certainly profitable.’164
Crawfurd thought that the Chinese should not have too direct a power
over the natives. He believed that the Chinese were necessary since ‘the
Indian islanders [are U.H.] quite unequal to the details of a business
of any degree of complexness’, but due to their moral depravity they
should not collect taxes directly, but be allowed to hold revenue farms,
provided these were sold publicly and competitively.165
At the end of 1813, Raffles adopted the ryotwar system, after favouring
the village system until this point.166 In this model, there was even less
room for the Chinese as landlords or tax farmers, since it was based on
the idea of the village as the basic module of Javanese society, where the
peasants had had the right to vote for their bekels, or village headmen,
from time immemorial.167 However, many of the reforms Raffles decided
upon were only partly introduced. Nevertheless, they set the tone for
further developments under his Dutch successors.168
In their attempt to establish colonial rule over the island, the British
were more successful than the Dutch. For central Java this meant mainly
that they took over the administration of the toll-gates and markets.
These were, after all, farmed out to the Chinese.169 Also, the demand
by the British government of moneyed land rent instead of one paid in
goods meant that the Javanese became increasingly dependant on the
Chinese moneylenders170 who had been described as so morally corrupt
by the Dutch and British commentators.
British expansion in Southeast Asia did not stop with the return of
Java to the Dutch. In Penang, Malacca and especially Singapore the
British continued to rule over a Chinese population. This brought with
it a renewed effort to define the role of the Chinese in Southeast Asia
and ways to govern them.
4.4 British rule, Chinese societies
As in Java, the main attention of the EIC servants in Malacca, Penang

and later in particular in Singapore was on the ‘native’ population.
Raffles claimed that he had chosen Singapore for the new settlement
due to its supposed important role as the old capital of the ‘Malayan
empire’.171 In spite of this however, Singapore became mainly a

‘Chinese’ city.
In Java, as we have seen, the idea of the industrious Chinese was
turned into a negative one, partly due to Dutch influence, partly because
of the land reform which made them a disruptive element. After the
return of Java to the Dutch, Penang and Singapore became the main
centres of British interest in Southeast Asia, where they again had to
deal with an ever-increasing Overseas Chinese population.172 Malacca
remained important even after the return of the island to the Dutch due
to the networks of the British Protestant missionaries. These places were
mainly seen as trading ports, thus issues of land property did not ini-
tially play a significant role here. Also, the Chinese communities with
which the British had to deal were mainly city dwellers, even though of
course Malacca, Singapore and Penang also had a population of Chinese
agricultural and mining labourers.173
In their contact with these Chinese and in the process of governing
them on these islands, the dual question of the need for ‘industrious’
Chinese and the danger of a too powerful Chinese population remained.
At the same time, the study of Chinese language and culture was consid-
ered to be important in this context. But without the strong influence
of Dutch reformers and the land property question, it took other forms.
First of all, the idea of the Chinese as industrious mine workers, who
could be brought in according to need, was very strong. Accordingly,
the British soon participated in the trade of Chinese workers, not just to
Trinidad, but also within Southeast Asia.174
Equally important however was the categorising of the Chinese as
traders with access to the network of the junk trade and especially to
Chinese harbours like Amoy which were closed to the Europeans. Dis-
cussing the opportunities of Penang and other islands under the rule of
the Siamese, Raffles mainly emphasised the trade with China from these
ports.175 Here, he is clearly positive about the presence of the Chinese:
‘the contiguity of its principal Port to China has led to the establishment
of a numerous Chinese population, which has given to its commerce the
same stimulus which that enterprising people produce wherever they
are allowed to colonize.’176 In his History of Java, Raffles demonstrated
his different attitudes to the Chinese as traders and as landholders
on Java:
The objection which have been made to the political influence of

the Chinese and Arabs in the Easter Islands, do not equally apply to
them as traders. In this last capacity, and subject to regulations which
prevent them from uniting the power of a chief with the temper of
a merchant, and despotism with avarice, their value cannot be too

highly rated.177
Crawfurd’s praise of the Chinese as traders was equally high. In con-

trast to Raffles, he did not believe in a sufficient ability of the Malays
and Javanese to improve. Rather, he saw the Chinese as the only people
who had already advanced far enough through the stages of civilisa-
tion to be able to conduct extensive trade. Following the arguments of
the free trade adherents, whom he would support strongly during the
debate over the China monopoly of the EIC, he even made the Chi-
nese traders a positive example for Europeans. The native governments
were granting them the right to trade, he argued, because they followed
only commercial goals and had no political ambitions or monopolistic
trading companies like the Europeans.178
Raffles, however remained extremely suspicious of the Chinese. While
they were welcome as traders, he noticed that they always tried to get
the farming of port duties into their own hands and quickly devel-
oped a monopoly on trade. Raffles explained this phenomenon using
the idea of the Chinese as the complete ‘Other’, the incomprehensible.
The reason for the success of the Chinese and their monopolistic ten-
dency was, according to him, that the Chinese formed a separate society
wherever they went, due to their ‘peculiar language and manners’. The
only way to check the ambitious Chinese was, he thought, to encourage
the native population to develop and become industrious and useful.179
The British thus sought diligent workers, opium-consumers and traders
for their new colonial acquisitions, yet remained suspicious of these
helpers whom they wanted to attract, but could not really understand
or assimilate.
Closer contact with the Chinese in Southeast Asia also meant that
an image of a more pluralised Chinese culture developed. The Chinese
immigrants in Southeast Asia were mainly organised in kongsis. Often,
however, the kinship which found its expression in surname groups
and language affiliations was equally important for the organisation of
Chinese communities and distinct kongsis.180 Such cultural differences
bewildered the British, who had always imagined China as a unity. One
of the main characteristics, which had startled enlightenment thinkers
such as Hume, had been the unity of the Chinese character and cul-
ture within such a large country.181 The politically interested, such as
Macartney, had accepted the Manchu presence in China but hardly the
diversity of the languages and cultures within China itself.182
Raffles felt that on Singapore he had to react to this difference with
town planning measures. When he returned to Singapore in October
1822 from Bencoolen, he ordered a series of changes through which

he wanted to clearly express his authority over the place. His return
to Singapore was especially marked by his split with William Faquhar,
who had been Resident there since 1819. Raffles changed several of the
administrative measures introduced by the latter, such as taxes on gam-
bling and his allocation of land to new settlers.183 With regard to the
Chinese, Raffles directed that they were to settle in an area in west of the
river, adjoining the commercial quarters. By this time, he had resigned
himself to the fact that the Chinese were to constitute the major part of
the population of Singapore. For the newly created Chinese campong,
Raffles directed that in its organisation, it should differentiate between
the cultural and provincial distinctions of the Chinese immigrants as
well as the sojourners and the permanent settlers.184 This was to prevent
fights between the different groups. This categorisation also developed
further the idea that Chinese from some provinces were more trouble-
some than others, and that certain provinces produced better workers.185
This also meant that the British formed a categorisation of the Chinese
beyond Chinese–Manchu distinctions. These categories were used to
identify good workers for their empire and to attempt to create peaceful
subjects.
In the beginning, the British EIC employees gave the Chinese direct
governance. Each Chinese group had to appoint a ‘Captain China’ who
was to be responsible for the group, collected their taxes and in large
parts administered the law.186 While Raffles generally introduced British
law in the colony, he wanted it to be modified according to the usages
and habits of the people.187 He also still considered the law of the Qing
Empire to have some relevance to the Chinese. In his stand against the
legalisation of gambling, Raffles quoted Staunton’s translation of the
Chinese Penal Code to point out that gambling was prohibited even
in China and thus should not be allowed to the Chinese in Singa-
pore either.188 This was to change over the years. The first full English
translation of the Four Books of Confucius by David Collie at the Anglo-
Chinese College at Malacca was greeted in 1828 by the Canton Register
as a step forward for the good government of Chinese subjects of the
British in the Straits of Malacca. By this time, Singapore had been
merged with Penang and Malacca into the Presidency of the Straits Set-
tlement and had been granted the Royal Charter of Justice, abandoning
the concept of indirect rule over the Chinese community through the
‘Captain China’ system as well.189 The Canton Register argued that it
was only a knowledge of Chinese and the Chinese classics by the gov-
ernment officials that could prevent the oppression of the Chinese by
the ‘Captain Chinas’. Thus it was argued that the Chinese language
should become more of a requirement for judges in the Straits.190 Thus
the thinking which had been characteristic for the ‘Orientalist’ attitude
of the British in India, held by such as William Jones, had arrived in
the Straits and was promoting British studies of Chinese. However, for
the time being, it had little influence on either judicial practice or the
knowledge of Chinese by officials in the Straits Settlements.191 The study
of the Chinese language largely remained in the hands of Protestant mis-
sionaries. It was also their fight against all ‘idolatrous’ societies which
first brought the idea of secret societies to the attention of the British.
The fact that the British now wanted to rule over the Chinese, in
combination with missionary zeal, strengthened the development of the
idea of the ‘secret societies’ or Triads as a typical expression of Chinese
cunning. It was in the context of Southeast Asia that the British first
understood the kongsi and the Heaven-and-Earth societies as a central
part of Chinese culture, which under the denomination of ‘Triad soci-
eties’ were to become a crucial element in the image of the deceptive,
secretive and cruel Chinese over the coming decades.
According to Carl Trocki, kongsis could be formed on the basis of sur-
name groups or the home province, but could also simply follow the
economic and social needs of a group of Chinese from different back-
grounds. While some of them were ‘secret’ and followed triad rituals,
they were not identical to the ‘secret’ societies in China. This had, how-
ever, been the image which European observers since the early 19th
century created. They explained the unrests amongst the Chinese in
Singapore as an overflow of ancient animosities between Triad societies
in China, thus ignoring the economic reasons behind these fights.192
The first to make the idea of Chinese secret societies prominent in the
English-speaking public was the Protestant missionary William Milne,
who had come to Malacca in 1815 to establish the China mission there,
outside of the restrictions of Canton.193 He seems to have somehow
learned about the ‘secret societies’ of the Chinese on Malacca. In the
posthumously published article in the Transactions of the Royal Asiatic
society, he mentions some Chinese, with whom he seems to have dis-
cussed this topic, but it is not clear in which context and from which
sources he received his information. Milne established that the Secret
societies originated from China, where they had been formed in their
struggles against the Manchu. He particularly described the ‘Coelesto-
terrestrial Society’, which, he wrote, had been formed to overthrow the
Emperor Jiaqing.194 This rebellion had been closely followed by those
British who had an interest in China. Milne saw several similarities
between this secret society and the freemasons in terms of secrecy and
organisation. Where, however, the British Freemasons consisted of a
‘respectable body of men’, the Chinese aimed at overthrowing society
and had degenerated into an alliance of banditti. Milne thus arrived
at a very negative description of the purpose of the secret societies
in Southeast Asia: ‘In foreign colonies, the objects of this association
are plunder, and mutual defence. The idle, gambling, opium-smoking
Chinese (particularly of the lower classes), frequently belong to this
fraternity.’195
Most of the other Britons who were in contact with the Overseas
Chinese had noticed their organisation in kongsis. Up to this point,
the secret societies played no important role for the British percep-
tion of the Chinese. With Milne’s article, the notion of the secretive,
deceptive Chinese was reinforced by the idea of these dangerous secret
societies, which brought the conflicts of China to the European colonies
in Southeast Asia.
In the early years of the Straits Settlement, there seems to have been
a certain amount of confusion over the distinction between ideas of
the ‘kongsi’ and the secret societies. The problem for the colonial gov-
ernment of a secret association of the Chinese was, however, quickly
picked up in the 1820s by Strait government officials. John Patullo, a
Straits Settlement magistrate pointed out the threat of these societies
to the stability of the British government, but also described them as a
typical characteristic of the cunning Chinese: ‘Indeed the very forma-
tion of such societies indicate secret combinations, and amongst such
an intriguing race as the Chinese, opposition to law and good Govern-
ment and the protection of their brethren under any circumstances.’196
The Chinese, from being seen as model workers slowly turned into a
colonial population that inspired ‘information panics’ amongst their
colonial masters.
The Chinese, in the context of Malacca, Penang and Singapore thus
had the image of a good and industrious working population and com-
mercially aware traders. As soon as they assumed some sort of power
position in trade or administration, the British still saw this as a prof-
itable working arrangement, but also feared the structures they did not
comprehend. This was increased by their feeling of exclusion because
the majority of them did not understand the Chinese languages and
the social organisations of the Chinese. This would become increasingly
important in the context of the Triad riots during the 19th century.
We cannot, however, understand the full significance of Southeast
Asia for the British meanings of China if we focus only on encounters
between the EIC agents and the Chinese in these places. The Protestant
missionaries were especially significant in this context. The evangelical
mindset and interests, together with the specific network the mission-
aries belonged to, added a different element to the British meaning of
China and the Chinese in Southeast Asia.
Evangelical sympathies and the circumstances of British communities
in the periphery meant that the ideas developed by the missionaries
also became relevant for the other British groups. Raffles, for example,
was strongly influenced by evangelical ideas and the Clapham sect, thus
partly providing the support of the EIC for the missionary efforts and as
we have seen in the context of the triad question, missionary opinion
could be very influential as apparently objective scholarship.
4.5 Educating the Chinese diaspora
In 1812, William Milne sailed from Britain to Asia. A fellow Scotsman,

but in contrast to Leyden, he had not had the opportunity to study at
Edinburgh University and to mingle with intellectual celebrities such as
Walter Scott. Milne, born in 1785 in Aberdeenshire, had worked as a
shepherd and farmhand before receiving the call to become a mission-
ary. The LMS sent him to the Gosport academy in Hampshire, where he
got his only formal further education. After this, he was sent straight
to China to support Robert Morrison, who had repeatedly asked for
another missionary to help him.
In the beginning, he seems to have planned to stay at Macao and
Canton with Robert Morrison to learn Chinese, but the Portuguese
authorities did not allow him to remain in Macao, probably spurred
on by the Catholic clergy. Morrison and Milne then resolved to put into
practice an idea Morrison had long cherished – to start the conversion
of China with the Chinese settlers in the Malayan Strait. The missionar-
ies thus chose the Strait as a missionary venue for the first time directly
because of the Chinese living there. Soon afterwards, they would extend
their missionary efforts to the Malays as well, but the Chinese would
always form an important part of their work in this region, aiming at
mainland China.197
Milne’s first trip to Southeast Asia led him to Batavia. Without the
restrictions of the Chinese authorities and the suspicions of the EIC,
he was more free in his intercourse with the Chinese population and
thus could report a successful interaction back to Morrison and the
LMS.198 Consequently, the image he had of these Chinese, free from the
oppressive Chinese government, was much more positive, describing
them as ‘diligent, sagacious people, well skilled in mechanical labours,

and exquisitely so in commercial transactions. Their superiority to the
Javanese and Malays in these respects is probably the cause of the com-
petency which they enjoy.’199 He thus supported the idea that the
Chinese were diligent and industrious and perfect workers as soon as
they were freed from the bad influences of their despotic government.
In these regions, which were under European governments, the mis-
sionary could move and interact more freely with the targets of his
mission, and live according to his self-image as preacher to the heathens,
and their improver. In this ‘contact zone’, the response of the ‘natives’
and their refusal to be converted, of course remained a source of con-
stant frustration,200 but the missionary could now imagine himself to
be doing everything he could to spread the message of the gospel. One
of the methods for this was to set up charity schools, mainly for poor
children. This missionary focus added to the construction of the Chi-
nese as a subject population, shifting the emphasis from them as willing
workers to their necessary improvement. However, the circumstances
of the ‘contact zone’ obliged the missionaries to adopt their concepts of
education and improvement to the reaction of the Chinese, introducing
Chinese ideas about education into their system.
In March 1815, Milne, together with his wife and children, set out to
Malacca, which was then handed over from the English to the Dutch.
One of the first things Milne did when he settled in Malacca was to set
up a school for Chinese children. The idea of the plurality of Chinese
dialects was to become significant for the set-up of the schools. The first
was for boys, who were taught reading, writing and arithmetic in the
Hokkien dialect, which most Chinese at Malacca spoke. In the following
year, 1816, he opened a second school for Cantonese-speaking boys.201
The system he used for teaching was that of the Lancasterian plan.202
This was not simply an introduction of the ‘latest Western teaching
methods’ to the Chinese in the Malayan Strait.203 The Lancasterian sys-
tem, designed by Joseph Lancaster, had been approved by the King and
introduced a new method of education based less on physical pun-
ishment, and more on spurring the children on by competition. To
understand its implications for the Malayan Strait Chinese, one has to
consider the context in which it was invented.204 It was in particular
designed for the education of the poor in Britain. It was cost effec-
tive, being based on the ‘monitoring system’ in which older children
taught younger ones. Due to the denomination of Lancaster, who was
a Quaker, the supporters of his system came mainly from the dissent-
ing and evangelical circles, organised in the British and Foreign School
Society. The wide support it received resulted from the growing con-
cerns of late 18th century Britain regarding the question of educating
the poor. The increasing number of lower classes in English cities, com-
bined with the unrests during the time of the radical reform movement,
left parts of the middle and upper classes wondering whether education
might not be the best medium to stabilise the social order. The curric-
ula were therefore mainly restricted to writing, reading, basic arithmetic
and Bible studies. Some still feared, as had been a common opinion
during the 18th century, that too much education for the poor would
endanger the social order. But the new Sunday Schools and the schools
after the Lancasterian system were mainly seen to be forming the chil-
dren of the poor into obedient, clean workers, who knew their place in
society.205
Apart from being seen as a good system to help and control the
English poor, the Lancasterian system was soon considered to be a
model for the schooling of British population abroad, for example in
India, as well as for the education of those who had recently come under
British control. The British and Foreign School society was founded
in 1814 to promote the new system, as its name indicated, not only
in Britain but also abroad. Evangelical pressure resulted in a clause in
the East India Company Charter Act of 1813 which not only allowed
missionary activities in India but also acknowledged the ‘duty of this
country’ for the spread of ‘useful knowledge’ amongst the natives of
India.206 Non-European subjects should not only learn to read and write
but also to appreciate Western sciences and religion.207
Thus, when Milne introduced this system to educate the Chinese pop-
ulation of Malacca, it had several implications. Even though Malacca
was first occupied by the British and then the Dutch, in the begin-
ning the introduction of the missionary schools had little connection
with colonial rule. Morrison and Milne saw education as an integral
part of preparations for the conversion of China, which would in their
eyes lead automatically to an acceptance of British superiority in sci-
ence and the arts by the Chinese. Conversion remained Morrison’s main
aim, even when he later supported Raffles’s plans for a secular school
at Singapore.208 It was only later that the missionary schools in the
Malaysian Strait, especially for the Malays, were seen as a duty of the
British government for the moral improvement of its subjects.209 How-
ever, the introduction of a new education system also meant that the
missionaries saw the Chinese school system, formerly highly praised by
the Jesuits and the literati of the Enlightenment, as insufficient.210 In
the first instance, the schools were justified on the ground that there
were not enough schools for Chinese children at Malacca, and that
those existing, due to their distance from the Chinese mother coun-
try, were of an inferior quality. The whole system of instruction was
criticised, especially the fact that the children had to learn Chinese clas-
sics by heart, such as the Four Books of Confucius, without having
them explained. Similarly, instruction in writing characters was seen
as deficient, because the teacher did not explain the different compo-
nents of the characters.211 The general and widespread education in
China itself could, at this time, still serve as a model for general edu-
cation in England, despite its moral deficiencies which were due to its
lack of Christian revelation.212 The missionaries in Malacca and Penang,
however, did not try to bring the Chinese schools there back to the
standard of mainland China. Rather they de facto declared the British,
Christian system to be better suited for education, thus undermining
the reputation of the Chinese system.
Due to this transfer from the home mission to the colonial context
of the Malayan Strait, the missionaries focused on the Chinese lower
classes, which they wanted to shape into something like a model English
poor: modest subordinates with Christian morality. While the mission-
aries thus also supported the idea of the Chinese as a subordinate group,
they focused less on their industry and characterisation as good workers.
In this context, the moral formation of the Chinese was the important
element.
The adoption of the Lancasterian system meant that its focus on
teaching through the Bible and with Christian texts was also trans-
planted, aimed at dismissing the use of Chinese classical texts in schools.
The main focus was not simply a philanthropic one, trying to teach
the children how to read and write so that they could improve their
prospects in life. Rather, it was important to the missionaries to exer-
cise control and ensure that the Lancasterian system was used, which in
their view would root out the vices of the Chinese heathen traditions.
This becomes evident from a number of statements of later missionaries
in the region. Rev. Sam Dyer, missionary in Penang, delighted in 1828
in the two schools after ‘the British system’ which he had managed to
introduce at his missionary station:
The children read nothing but Christian books, and not a single
objection has been made to this. Not a word is said about their own
classical works; indeed, the system effectually remedies the evil which
subsisted in my former schools. The teachers allowed the children to
read their own books in my absence. The schools can, also, be much
more vigorously superintended on the British system, and they are

tenfold more under my control.213
However, especially in the early years of the missionary schools, it seems

to have been a great problem to teach without the Chinese classical
texts. ‘Lucius’ (probably Milne) reported in the Indo-Chinese Gleaner, that
in the Chinese missionary schools at Malacca they had used the Chi-
nese standard books as teaching material, because otherwise the parents
would not have allowed their children to visit the school.214 And even
though he did not approve of this measure, because he thought the
Chinese classics too complicated for school children, he admitted that
a Chinese should have some knowledge of these works.215 Thus, even
though the aim might have been a well-educated, clean and Christian
Chinese, who, like his English counterpart, would stay at the place in
society that the British thought proper for him, the missionaries had
to negotiate their ideal with the Chinese. They thus produced Chinese
students well acquainted with the Chinese classics, who would usually
refuse to be converted.216
Setting up these schools, which were supposed to control and shape
the new generation of better Chinese, was only possible for the mission-
aries in a colonial context of the Malayan Strait, which did not have
to be strictly British, but could be Dutch. The missionaries’ attempt to
spread their Western religious world view needed European military and
strategic power behind it and even then their ideas quite often became
hybridised and changed against their will.217 In mainland China, where
no sympathetic Christian European government protected them, these
schools could not exist. The only attempt to set up a school there in
this period, by a converted Chinese, was soon ended by the Chinese
authorities.218
The Chinese Empire was also the main target of Morrison’s and
Milne’s biggest project, the Anglo-Chinese College at Malacca. Mor-
rison argued in favour of choosing Malacca as the position of the
College, because there was a large Chinese community, which also had
good trade contacts with China, thus making an infiltration of China
possible.219
One of the ideas for this College was to further educate the Chi-
nese who had been taught in the missionary schools so that they could
become ‘native’ missionaries for the Mission in China.220 However, it
was also supposed to educate Europeans in Chinese language, history
and literature, so that they could serve as missionaries. And for this task,
as Morrison described it, they had to transform themselves almost into
those whom they had to convert: ‘the teacher of Christianity must make
himself conversant with their opinions, their habits, their superstitions,
their literature, and their history. If he knows not what they know, how-
ever versed in the learning of Judea, Greece, and Rome, he will, to them,
appear ignorant, and unqualified to be their instructor.’221 He thus partly
transformed the idea of the Dissenting Academies, especially at Gosport,
where future missionaries were trained for their mission,222 into an insti-
tution adapted to the circumstances of the China mission. Another
model for him was the College of Fort William in Calcutta.223 Further-
more, there seems to have been some interchange with a similar insti-
tution founded by the Baptist missionaries at Serampore.224 In its dual
purpose, the college was a typical product of the ‘contact zone’, trying
to transform the Chinese into European Christians and the European
missionaries into people who could be accepted by the Chinese.
As these models show, the College always sat uneasily between
worldly and religious claims to it. While Morrison and Milne assured
their superiors in London of the religious character of the College,
they emphasised its worldly importance to financial supporters from
the EIC.225 Thus it was a prime example of the entangled relation-
ship of missionaries and EIC, philology and religion, Indian precedents
and European influence, expansionist interests and fascination with a
foreign culture.
Despite the reciprocity in education Morrison advocated, as well as
the assimilation of the European missionaries, he still tried to ensure the
dominance of the European character of the institution. It was mainly
Europeans who were supposed to cultivate the Chinese culture, while
Chinese teachers were only there to help them.226 In addition, European
students were supposed to learn the Chinese language, and then were
free to apply it to every field they wanted, be it religion, literature or
commerce. For the Chinese students however, there seems to have been
a much stricter curriculum, consisting of the English language, ‘geogra-
phy, history, arithmetic, and such other branches of learning or science,
as time may afford, together with moral philosophy, and Christian the-
ology, and Malay’.227 This referred of course to European history, science
and geography. This showed that the aim of the program, in addition
to preparing the scholars for Christianity, was to make them accept
the European view of the world, or more particularly the Protestant
British one. They should recognise that Chinese achievements in history
and science were inferior to British, and that China was everything but
the ‘middle kingdom’. This becomes evident if one looks at the books
Morrison wrote in Chinese, partly for the College, partly for general use
for the mission, such as a book on general geography228 and one called
‘A voyage round the world’, in which a Chinese man travels to Europe
and discovers that China is neither the only nor the greatest civilisation
on earth.229
Even though the Chinese were supposed to be taught English, Mor-
rison still favoured the ‘orientalist’ approach of the English in India,
making special reference to the topic of dissertation at the College of
Fort William: ‘It is easier to diffuse the literature and science of the
western nations among the natives of India, by translating European
books into their own tongue, than by instructing them in the European
languages.’230 Thus, the main emphasis was on learning the language
and culture of China in order to enable future missionaries and teachers
to ‘point out his [men’s] errors, and to convey more correct information
to his mind’. The co-education of Europeans and ‘natives’ was supposed
to increase the benefits of such an education. China, however, was also
still a great unknown country, waiting to be explored by the Europeans.
At the introductory speech for the College, it was described as: ‘the
amplest field on the face of the globe, for the researches of the Naturalist,
the Historian, the Antiquarian, and the Philosopher’.231
In a similar way, the set-up of the College showed that Morrison
still saw the Chinese Empire as a civilised country, and therefore the
approach to its conversion, whether to Christianity, or an open trade
policy, had to be based on rational argument and the enlightenment of
China. It was not enough to identify the decaying state of China’s art
and culture: for Morrison it was clear that the inhabitants of the empire
had to be convinced of the awful state of their art and culture and helped
out of it. Thus, they had to be educated, either at the Anglo-Chinese
College at Malacca or through tracts distributed amongst travelling Chi-
nese. In contrast, this task made it necessary for the British to learn more
about the Chinese culture itself. This would enable them to point out its
flaws to the Chinese as well as to ‘translate’ this culture to their coun-
trymen at home, always pointing out the defects which the British had
the moral duty to diminish.
Thus, the missionary schools in the Malaysian Strait and the Anglo-
Chinese College at Malacca brought to the forefront an idea of a Chinese
population that had to be improved in a similar way to the English lower
classes or at least had to be educated in order to be saved from its degen-
erated state.232 However, this was not simply for their own good, but was
also to lead the Chinese Empire to acknowledge western superiority and
to relinquish their superstitious views. It was intended to persuade them
to accept the meaning the British missionaries assigned to them.
The Anglo-Chinese College remained the central focus point for

the Protestant China Mission and British Sinology until 1842. Walter
Medhurst was trained at the College, who later founded the London
Missionary Society Press in Shanghai and worked amongst the Chi-
nese and Malay in Java. In his double role for the Malay and the
Chinese mission, he is a typical product of this contact zone in South-
east Asia. Primarily interested in the China mission when he arrived,
he also studied Malay and tried to spread the gospel amongst them.233
Next to his work on Malay language, he wrote books on the Chinese
and worked on the second translation of the Bible into Chinese with
Charles Gützlaff. His interest and understanding of the Chinese lan-
guage resulted from the Southeast Asian contact zone. In Batavia, he
produced a dictionary for the Hokkien dialect.234 His justification was
that amongst the Chinese he had met in Southeast Asia, almost none
spoke Mandarin, but rather their local dialect, in many cases Hokkien.235
He based his work on a local dictionary of the Hokkien dialect which
he had acquired in Southeast Asia. He relied on native teachers rather
than the works of Robert Morrison to assure its correctness.236 Printed
with the money of the EIC and supported by Olyphant & Co, a firm
involved in the country trade between India and China, this dictio-
nary was mainly intended for the use of future traders and missionaries.
The dictionaries and translations produced by Morrison, Milne and
Medhurst served the pioneers of institutional Sinology in Britain as
learning material. Most of them were taught at the Anglo-Chinese
College, focusing on these local dialects, including Samuel Kidd and
James Legge.237
In India, China could be an inscrutable power, potentially threatening
the expansions of the British power, a force much like the Sikhs, the
Afghans or even the Russians. Here the idea of the Chinese emperor as
a Buddhist monarch became important. At the other end, in Southeast
Asia, the immigrant population of this empire turned into the perfect
tools for the British Empire.
In Southeast Asia, the assumptions about the inherent character of
the Chinese were crucial, whether they were attributed to the still
half-civilised conditions in the Chinese home country or to racial char-
acteristics. The Chinese language was studied to understand the laws
of this new colonial population, to break the power of the Captain
Chinas’, and, as in the case of the Protestant missionaries, to morally
reform and educate the Chinese population. Here, the idea of a diverse
Chinese culture figured prominently and influenced the study of its lan-
guage and culture. The rank of the Chinese on the scale of civilisation
became equally more important in order to determine the relation of

the Chinese to those whom the British saw as native population of
Southeast Asia. While the Chinese were still considered the highest
ranking Asian people on this scale, they nevertheless clearly had not
achieved the heights of the European nations. In Southeast Asia, thus,
the Chinese were created as the perfect subject people, as long as they
were ruled by the benevolent and good British government.
The EIC servants and missionaries spent a considerable portion of
their life in Asia and communicated along the networks that connected
the different points of British presence there. Their main fix point was
however still Britain itself, to which they eventually wanted to return.
If they managed to survive the tropical climates long enough to come
back to Britain, they brought with them a meaning of the world shaped
in contexts different from those who had remained in Britain. Next to
tea and porcelain they thus brought a different meaning of China and
newly created knowledge about it back home.
5
Asian Networks and the British Isles
Thomas Stamford Raffles returned to Britain in 1824. A shipwreck on the

way home destroyed all his papers, yet this did not hinder his further
contribution to the production of knowledge on Asia in the metropo-
lis. He became a founding member of the zoological society and one
of the presidents of the language institution which George Staunton
and Robert Morrison set up for the study of Chinese and other Asian
languages.1 In July 1826, Raffles died of a prolonged illness, but his activ-
ities during the short period he had in Britain after his return shows
how the interests and activities of the periphery were brought back
to the metropolis with the returning servants of the EIC, the military
personnel and the missionaries. Raffles, and later John Crawfurd also
continued to be spokesmen for British interests concerning China or
the Chinese, inspired by their encounters with the Overseas Chinese in
Southeast Asia.
In the years after the Macartney embassy, the meaning of China in the
metropolis was more than ever before transformed by the new knowl-
edge and new images of China which had been formed in the ‘contact
zones’ of China and Southeast Asia. In Britain, especially in London, the
different networks which formed the British expansion came together
and connected. They were joined by more traditional links with the
European continent, such as with France and Germany. This chapter
considers Britain as a ‘contact zone’ to show how these different influ-
ences shaped the British world. It discusses how the idea of the existence
of British ‘China experts’ and scientifically provable knowledge about
China crucially transformed the meaning of China in Britain on several
levels.
In this ‘contact zone’, two meanings of China existed, partially over-
lapping. One was influenced by the aesthetic discourse on China in the
150
Asian Networks and the British Isles 151
context of Chinoiserie, which could still be a signifier for pleasure, partly

existing only in the realm of fantasy, which could however also be con-
nected to critic on the society and monarch. This discourse still was
very influential in the popular perception of China, but was now partly
transformed by new images coming from China, as discussed in the first
chapter.
The other meaning was connected to attempts to categorise and con-
struct the political and historical entity China, which in the end could
incorporate China into the mental map of British expansion. Here we
have to determine the reasons why certain individuals and groups con-
sidered it useful to attach themselves to this meaning of China, which
was influenced by the encounter in Canton, India and Southeast Asia.2
The transfer of ideas from the ‘contact zones’ in Asia also meant that
they were transformed to meet metropolitan needs and answer to the
ideas on Asia that dominated the discussion there.
One of the fundamental developments in this period, which influ-
enced all these fields, was the development of a scientific Orientalism,
creating Western scholars as authorities for Asia. Crucial to this was
the institutionalisation of the study of Sanskrit, Hindi and Chinese as
academic disciplines as well as the foundation of various specialised
societies such as the Royal Asiatic Society. The European interest and
research into Sanskrit and the ensuing comparative studies of the Indo-
Germanic languages and its relationship to colonialism has been well
documented and discussed.3 The renewed interest for the Chinese lan-
guage and culture, its institutionalisation and its role in the discussion
about the nature of language in general in the early 19th century has,
however, received little attention.4 In the second part, this chapter stud-
ies therefore the beginning of a more academic study of China in the
metropolis. The main focus of British interest in Asia was India, which
shaped the options available to those interested in institutionalising
the study of China in Britain, but also increasingly influenced the way
China was understood in the metropolis. In this context, the idea devel-
oped that one could now establish an objectively true knowledge about
China. As will be argued, the conditions of the metropolis meant that
this knowledge was only disputed within the European scientific com-
munity, not between the British and the Chinese, as in the ‘contact
zones’ of Asia.
Along with these developments, the British in the metropolis after
the years of the Macartney embassy increasingly understood China to be
connected to Britain and the vital British interests and British role in the
world. Foremost amongst those who furthered this idea of China were
the Protestant missionaries and those who demanded free trade with
China. The debate about the abolition of the EIC monopoly in 1834
was the high and turning point for this understanding, which is dis-
cussed in the last part of this chapter. During this debate, two different
ideas about the geo-political entity China were brought into the field.
In the end, a meaning gained momentum which opened the way to the
Opium War.
The new encounters with China in Asia shaped the understanding of
the Britons in these local contact zones. When these Britons returned
home, and in their letters to relatives and employers in the British Isles
they transported back and transformed it in the process. In Britain,
especially in London, the early years of the 19th century saw the estab-
lishment of institutions and societies which were dedicated to the study
of Asia and which were closely linked to Britain’s imperial interest
in the region. The imperial networks spanned the metropolis as much
as the British presence in Asia. In the years after the Macartney embassy,
the study of China received new interest in these contexts. The encoun-
ters in Asia had created new ‘China experts’ who influenced the debates
about the end of the EIC trading monopoly to China and the Opium
War. These two debates highlight how ideas on free trade and the materi-
alistic interests of the British in the East merged with the new knowledge
formed about China and resulted in the end in the idea that the Chinese
Empire, the former model state, could now be a legitimate target for war
and conquest.
5.1 British Sinology
When Robert Morrison set out for China in 1806, he was the unknown
son of a Scottish boot-tree maker.5 When he returned to Britain for
a year in 1824, he was so well-known that he had trouble managing
his busy schedule, travelling the country from top to bottom. He also
travelled to France to meet his fellow Sinologue Abel Rémusat and his
students Heinrich Julius Klaproth and Stanislas Julien.6 The highlight of
his stay was certainly the audience with King George IV, to whom he pre-
sented his translation of the Bible into Chinese. This audience had been
made possible by Morrison’s friend from Canton, Sir George Staunton.
Staunton himself, even though he was now working on his career as
an MP, had relied in a similar way on his knowledge of Chinese for his
social advancement. First, his rare knowledge had gained him a place
at the EIC factory in Canton. From there, he had hoped to become the
next ambassador to China, but had had to be content with the position
of secretary. After his return to Britain, he used his knowledge of Chinese

language and culture to establish himself as an expert on all matters
relating to China.
The likes of Morrison and Staunton shaped the new academic debate
about China, which partly followed the established themes such as ques-
tions about Chinese language, civilisation and religion, but also added
new fields, such as race theory. The discussion on Chinese language in
Britain was heavily influenced in this period by those who had partici-
pated in the British imperial expansion in the East. With them they also
brought the British ‘Canton’ school of sinology, which formed itself in
contrast to the continental idea of the study of China.7 In Europe, how-
ever, the study of Chinese language held a different meaning from that
in the ‘contact zones’ in Asia. Here, the academic discussion about the
nature of the Chinese language and its incorporation into the study of
philology became more significant.8
The first attempts to institutionalise the study of Chinese in Britain
itself were closely linked to the formalisation of the education of EIC
employees and their training in Indian languages in Wellesley’s Col-
lege of Fort William. Governor-General Wellesley in 1800 set up this
college to train the employees of the EIC in Indian languages and to pro-
vide them with further education. His rash execution of this institution
found little support in the Court of Directors, not least because the Court
feared losing control over the establishment and its patronage if they
agreed. Stricter control over the education of the young servants as well
as the wish to send them out to India later led to the first establishment
for the teaching of Indian languages in Britain itself, at the East India
College at Haileybury. This was supposed to safeguard them from the
temptations of the Indian style of life and radical ideas at a young age.9
At Haileybury, the aspirants for EIC postings were taught a variety
of Eastern languages, such as Persian, Hindi and Sanskrit. However,
Chinese was not included in the syllabus. Nor was there a separate insti-
tution for teaching this peculiar language. In 1817, there had been a
suggestion by the EIC Select Committee to establish such a school in
Britain;10 the reasons in favour of learning Chinese in Britain, according
to James Molony, President of the Select Committee at the time, were
the same as those given in the case of Indian languages: ‘I am not aware
of any circumstance peculiar to the China Establishment, which does
not apply to the Presidencies of India.’11 However, this argument did
not prove successful, and it failed in the same way as the idea of giving
Morrison a professorship of Chinese at Hantford College.12 In Britain
itself, there was still a difference between the need for knowledge about
India and China, which did not exist for those in the ‘contact zones’ in
Canton, India and Southeast Asia.
When Morrison met Staunton in England in 1824 they decided to
combine their efforts to establish the teaching of Chinese language in
Britain. Much like the Anglo-Chinese College in Malacca, the result-
ing institution had a predominantly missionary background. It was
announced that it should provide training in ‘all the languages of the
heathen, with a view to the propagation of Christianity among them’.13
When the ‘Language institution’ was set up, its head personnel consisted
of the evangelical interest in the EIC and in government: President was
Baron Bexley, Vice-presidents Sir George Staunton, Sir Stanford Raffles
and Sir George Henry Rose. William Wilberforce and Lord Teignmouth
completed the set as contributors.14 Morrison donated his 1000 volume
Chinese library to the institution as well as a museum. During his stay
in England, he taught several people Chinese there.15
Soon after Morrison left Britain for China, this attempt to give Britain
an institutionalised setting for the teaching of Chinese and Chinese cul-
ture failed. Until his death in 1834, Morrison tried, from Canton, to find
a new home for his library, in the end even advocating a sale of it for
the benefit of his family.16 Morrison had hoped, that since the King had
built himself a retreat in Brighton in the Chinese style, he might also
patronise Chinese studies in his country.17 However, neither royal inter-
est, made visible by the audience, and nor the growing British interest
in China were yet sufficient enough to sustain such an effort.
The King’s failure to take any interest in endowing a chair of Chinese
at a British university despite his apparent interest in Chinoiserie shows
that the aesthetic sphere of contact with China was still very separate
from the scientific one. As with Haileybury College and other insti-
tutions, mainly private sponsorship was needed for their success. The
main possible sponsors – the EIC and the LMS, however seem to have
considered the language training for Chinese in Asia as sufficient. The
Chinese language was not a major tool for the EIC to rule and therefore
the instruction in it did not have to be controlled in the metropolis.
The knowledge of the Chinese language as a medium of power was
in the period before the Opium War only considered to be important
in the ‘contact zone’ in Canton, Bengal and Southeast Asia, where, as
we have seen, it played a crucial role in the struggle about power and
identity, which the Court of Directors did not approve of.
In France, matters were quite different. There, the first chair in Sinol-
ogy had been established in 1814, with the young Abel-Rémusat as
professor at the Collège de France. The creation of the chair had been
promoted by Silvestre de Sacy, the French orientalist. Already in 1813,

Chrétien Louis Joseph de Guignes had published a Latin-French Chinese
dictionary, in the completion of which Napoleon allegedly had held
some interest.18 Institutionalised French Sinology thus had its founda-
tion in the imperial interests of the state and was not initiated by the
French who had had contact with China, be it in commercial or impe-
rial context. Nevertheless, the missionary activities of the Jesuits and the
resulting publications were still an important starting point for this new
academic Sinology, despite the loss of their reputation in France.19
Next to France, Russia had established itself as the second centre for
European studies of Chinese, due to its neighbourhood to the Chinese
Empire. It profited from the orthodox mission in Beijing, where Chinese
was studied and taught. A chair for Chinese language in Russia itself was
only established in 1837 at the University of Kazan.20 Both European
centres of Sinology attracted the Germans who at the time discov-
ered the study of Chinese and Tartarian languages. There were even
chairs established in Bonn (1816) and Munich (1833).21 The German
Julius Klaproth was the most notorious of these European scholars.
He had been a member of the Academy of Science and professor for
Asian languages in St. Petersburg. As an interpreter he accompanied
the Russian embassy to China in 1805. After his return to Germany, he
was appointed professor for Eastern languages in Bonn, but was allowed
to study and work in Paris with Abel Rémusat and became a frequent
contributor and co-editor of the Journal Asiatique.22
These two centres of early Chinese studies were watched with atten-
tion by some Britons regarding the question of an academic study of
Chinese in Britain itself. Especially the French interest and progress in
the subject worried them. As in other fields, it was enmity with its Gal-
lic neighbour that made it seem necessary in the mind of interested
Britons that Britain rather than France should excel in this field of schol-
arship and master the language which could be so important in the
further expansion in Asia. John Barrow, after his return from the Macart-
ney embassy – a self-proclaimed spokesman on all matters relating to
China – was one of the first to be alarmed by the state of things:
The French, aware of the solid advantages that result from the knowl-
edge of languages, are at this moment holding out every encour-
agement to the study of Chinese literature; obviously not without
design. They know that the Chinese character is understood from
the Gulph of Siam to the Tatarian Sean, and over a very considerable
part of the great Eastern Archipelago: that the Cochin Chinese, with
whom they have already firmly rooted themselves, use no other writ-
ing than the pure Chinese character, which is also the case with the
Japanese.23
Even this rivalry, however, was not enough to promote a greater invest-
ment in Chinese language studies in the metropolis. Trade with China
was deemed to be a sufficient contact with China, which should be
enhanced by the establishment of diplomatic relations. Yet in the eyes
of the Court of Directors and the Government neither the requirements
of trade nor of diplomacy seemed to necessitate the provision of large-
scale Chinese language education in the metropolis. The LMS probably
deemed their involvement in the Anglo-Chinese College in Malacca as
sufficient for a field that was still largely closed to their mission. To this
was added the still prominent idea of the difficulty and otherness of
Chinese. Staunton and Morrison repeatedly had to argue against those
who thought that it was impossible to study Chinese in Europe due to
its difficulty. The lack of interest in comparative philology in Britain
in the years before 1830 also contributed to the failure of interest in
Chinese from an academic point of view, in contrast to Germany and
France, where the comparative study of languages for example inspired
Wilhelm von Humboldt’s interest in Chinese and his ensuing debate
with Abel Rémusat.24
Only in 1837, did Staunton manage to persuade the University Col-
lege London, against considerable resistance, to appoint a Professor of
Chinese. This post however was given up again after the death of the
appointed Professor, Samuel Kidd, in 1843.25
The lack of institutionalised study of Chinese in the metropolis did
not mean that the British were excluded from the transnational net-
works of those who were about to lay the foundations for the academic
and scientific study of Chinese in this period.
Morrison, as mentioned, visited the French sinologists in Paris. The
meeting itself seems to have been friendly enough, Morrison even pre-
sented Rémusat and his students with some of his works.26 The previous
and following battle in the pages of the Asiatic Journal and the Jour-
nal Asiatique however shows that two very different scholarly traditions
had met each other. The debate was about how one had to study Chi-
nese, and what constituted correct Chinese. This debate shows how
the participants tried to establish objective standards for the study of
Chinese language and literature. Through these standards they could
define who had the true knowledge about China and its language. They
thus developed knowledge of China over which the Europeans could
consider themselves masters and which allowed them to make China

understandable, independent of Chinese mediators.
While this only had an effect in the European sphere of commu-
nication, it nevertheless transformed the meaning of China in the
European mind, respectively to the different standards developed in
Britain, France, Russia and Germany.
Already in a letter about the meeting in France, Morrison was quite
derogatory about the quality of Rémusat and his students’ Chinese –
they were only more zealous in their studies than the British.27 Later
on, especially Julius Klaproth would turn against Morrison, claiming,
for example, that Morrison’s dictionary was not at all his own work,
but rather that of his Chinese aides. Morrison, he implied, could nei-
ther speak nor read Chinese sufficiently.28 When several people, like
P. P. Thoms, rushed to Morrison’s defence in the pages of the Asiatic Jour-
nal, Klaproth countered that only the ‘senseless patriotism’ of Morrison’s
countrymen and some incompetent judges had given Morrison a repu-
tation which he did not deserve. He followed this by pointing out that
several Characters in the dictionary were assigned incomplete or wrong
meanings.29 His final judgement was telling beyond the rants Klaproth
was notorious for: ‘For this reason, Dr. Morrison’s work may do well
enough at Canton and Macao, whilst it provoked the dissatisfaction of
the sinologists of Europe.’30 Klaproth’s teacher Abel Rémusat had made
similar accusations in the preface of his Chinese grammar: Morrison, in
his opinion used too many Anglicisms and his dictionary was only made
for use at Canton or Macao, not for more literary and academic study.31
Morrison’s fellow missionary, Gützlaff, came to his defence and held
the knowledge of those on the spot against European academic exper-
tise: ‘Frequent blunders in the assertion of European sinologists shew
the vast superiority of those who are on the spot, and who, in case of
doubt, can consult natives.’32
The chair in Paris was mainly dedicated to a theoretical study of
Chinese by reading and translating its literature, thus creating a pre-
sumably scientifically based knowledge about Chinese language, its
literature, philosophy and religion. The education of personnel for the
French expansionist interests in Asia was only of secondary concern
until 1843.33 Rémusat’s main interest was the philosophical study of
languages, especially the search for a universal grammar, which would
explain the relations between theory and language.34 Rémusat was inter-
ested in describing Chinese according to its own grammatical terms. He
tried to extract the real, inherent structure of Chinese from the study
of Chinese classics.35 Nevertheless, he still used the Latin grammar as
a reference point to show that Chinese was not completely different

from all other languages, but also adhered to the principles of a uni-
versal basic grammar.36 He thus established an authoritative set of rules
according to which Chinese could be understood. At the same time, he
refused to accept the authority of the Chinese themselves to judge about
the grammatical details of their own language. One of his major points
of criticism of Morrison’s grammar was that he had not taken the exam-
ple sentences from the Chinese classical books and extracted the rules
of grammar from them, but rather relied on a Chinese teacher.
Rémusat and Klaproth were mainly interested in questions of gram-
mar, the nature of ancient Chinese and the written ‘Mandarin’ Chinese
and the translation of Chinese literature and philosophy. The dialects
and colloquial languages of China only played a minor role. Away from
the conditions of the ‘contact zones’ in Asia, the French and German
scholars had to rely on earlier works, mainly by the Jesuits, and Chinese
thus turned into a language that could be studied in a similar way to
Latin and Greek, addressing similar questions. Thus, an idea of Chinese
language and a study of Chinese culture developed, that was influenced
only very indirectly by contact with Chinese, but based on the study
of ‘classical’, mainly historical, texts. The Chinese could not question
nor transform the discourse developed about China and the Chinese
language under these circumstances.
The lack of political and private patronage meant that British Sinol-
ogy remained centred in Canton and especially Southeast Asia. This,
together with the missionary interest in reaching all levels of Chinese
society, led to the fact that contemporary Chinese as well as dialects
such as Cantonese and Hokkien were important parts of the study, also
in its institutionalised manifestations in Southeast Asia. Additionally,
the Chinese teachers and aids had a great influence on the work.
While the ‘Canton/Southeast Asian’ school and the continental
European Sinologists differed in how Chinese should be studied, they
still had the common goal of forming knowledge which would allow
unravelling the mysteries of the Chinese. Abel Rémusat’s grammar
should help future students to better understand the character of the
Chinese people.37 John Francis Davis similarly argued that the use of
translations of Chinese literature would help to understand the char-
acter of this peculiar people.38 In Europe, the knowledge of Chinese
was the ultimate tool to discover China, to finally make it available to
the penetrating eyes of the European observer, be it missionary or aca-
demic. Thus, Henry Thomas Colebrook, at the opening session of the
Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, explained how the progress
of knowledge of the Chinese language had opened China for the study
of the British (long before the Opium Wars would allow them to enter
the country):
This field of research, which is now open to us, may be cultivated

with confident reliance on a successful result; making us better
acquainted with a singular people, whose manners, institutions,
opinions, arts and productions, differ most widely from those of the
West; and through them, perhaps, with other tribes of Tataric race,
still more singular, and still less known.39
For a different purpose, but in a similar trope, at the Annual Meeting

of the LMS in 1824, Joseph Butterworth, a Methodist publisher and
politician, praised Morrison who by the will of God had been able to
learn Chinese and thus provided the mission with a key to the Chinese
Empire, which had before been tightly sealed from their efforts.40 While
the mastery of the language was seen to open China to the European
observer, in this context, the foreignness of China was once more
emphasised.
Linguistically, its complete otherness was the most important
feature.41 But now Europeans could overcome this otherness with the
help of their rational minds or God. The land that could thus be dis-
covered ‘differ most widely from those of the West’. Its foreignness and
strangeness could now be demystified, described in linguistic terms and
classified. This re-invention of Chinese language in Europe could take
place without the disturbances of the ‘contact zone’, where the Chinese
authorities refused to accept British re-interpretations of Chinese words
such as ‘barbarian’ and tried to hinder the foreigners in learning the
language in the first place. The contest in Europe was thus not with
the Chinese authorities about identity, representation and the power
over words, but rather between the eternal rivals France and Britain on
who could create knowledge about China, solve its secrets, which would
allow Britons or Frenchmen to become the predominant scholars in the
field but also to gain influence in the region of East and Southeast Asia.
Language thus remained one of the prominent sites on which China
was defined. It was now a tool through which the secrets of China could
be lifted and its claim to high civilisation either partly re-affirmed or
dismantled, its difference described. The rank of Chinese civilisation was
the other main interest of debates about Chinese culture, which mainly
took place within the Royal Asiatic Society and the Asiatic Journal. As
with the debate about Chinese language, the discussions about Asia in
general in this period were dominated by those who had served the
British expansionist interests in the East, be it as EIC employees, country
traders or missionaries. The early years of the 19th century thus marked
the beginning of the domestication of knowledge formed during the
British imperial expansion in the East.
The most prominent institution in this context was the Royal Asiatic
Society. More than 25 years after William Jones had founded the Bengal
Asiatick Society, its counterpart in the metropolis was finally inaugu-
rated. As Colebrook made clear in his introductory remarks, the society’s
main purpose was to assist Britain’s civilising mission.42 With the foun-
dation of the society, the study of Asia found its first institutionalised
home. While the respective chairs at the universities concerned them-
selves mainly with the Biblical Orient, the Royal Asiatic Society could
become an authority for the study of greater Asia – including Australia.
Its members were to a large extent men who either had been in EIC
service in Asia or had worked for them at home. The study of Asia was
thus mainly not in the hands of those who had come to it through
academic interest such as Wilhelm von Humboldt, but was conducted
by those who had forged the Empire abroad.43 Societies like the Royal
Asiatic Society and the journals were protected areas in which the mate-
rial ‘discovered’ in the contact zones could be turned into undisputable
knowledge, stating facts about Asia without the possibility of response
by the Asians.
The main focus of the society certainly lay on India, but its co-founder
had been George Thomas Staunton, and matters concerning China
appeared repeatedly in the Transactions of the Society. China was in
this context by its geographical position and the link provided by the
EIC and trade once more included in British ponderings about India.
And as the problems with the establishment of a chair of Chinese stud-
ies had shown, a larger British concern for China only existed if it was
somehow linked to greater Asia and the study of mankind. This equally
applied to the far more political Asiatic Journal or mainly missionary
sponsored institutions, such as the Oriental Translation fund. There was
a vivid exchange between the Asiatic Societies of Calcutta, London and
Paris. Where formerly Egypt or ancient Greece had formed the main
comparison, now India held this position. This was due to the British
prominence in India, which had formed the experience of many as well
as the exchange with the Calcutta Asiatic Society. Connected with this,
and of equal importance was the idea of India as the origin of civilisa-
tion, which had begun with William Jones and had now mainly found
its adherents amongst the German romantics.44 Chinese history had
thus no longer necessarily to be aligned with the story of the Bible and
the distribution of mankind after the deluge. Rather, the question of
its connection to India became crucial to understanding its history and
culture.
William Jones was the first to argue that the Chinese were descendants
of an Indian warrior caste.45 John Francis Davis supported this claim in
his paper for the Royal Asiatic Society in 1823. He used the Indian laws
of Manu as the authoritative point of reference and drawing on this
showed the incoherence with the Chinese historical annals. Addition-
ally, he took the position of an observer, gifted with superior logic, to
point out that Chinese historical accounts could not possibly be accu-
rate. All claims by the Chinese to high antiquity of their civilisation
thus had to be refuted.46 Even for somebody like Davis, who had lived
for years in the ‘contact zone’ of Canton and learned Chinese there, the
main point of reference when addressing the metropolitan audience was
thus India.
This was even more important for Julius Klaproth. As a German, living
in Paris and St. Petersburg, whose articles in the French Journal Asia-
tique were regularly translated and published in its British counterpart,
he was a typical medium for the transfer of ideas. In his article in the
Asiatic Journal in 1832, he clearly picked up the romantic notion of India
as the cradle of civilisation and its association with beauty and perfec-
tion, but rejects a link between China and India. In order to refute the
idea of a common origin between the Chinese and the Indians, he set
the romantic notion of the ‘poetic and speculative mind of the inhabi-
tants of the banks of the Ganges and Jumna’ against the dry and prosaic
genius of the Chinese. Additionally, he argues that the Chinese accounts
of their ancient history were probably quite adequate, since the Chinese
otherwise would have invented a more flattering story.
As a proof of the total difference and unconnectedness of the Chinese
with the Indians, and thus the Europeans, he also used arguments
inspired by comparative physiognomy. For Klaproth, the different racial
features of the Indians and Chinese were the best proof against their
common history. Further supporting the idea of the complete other-
ness of the Chinese, he depicts them as ugly and entirely different from
the Europeans, describing their exterior characteristics: ‘the pig-eyes, the
protuberant cheek-bones, the pug-nose, and the square flat face’. This, in
his opinion, stood quite in contrast to the Indians, ‘with whom, except-
ing in respect to colour, we find the features of the European race.’47
For both of them it was clear that the Europeans had to be the judges
over the value of sources on Chinese history. Klaproth claimed that
the Chinese neglected some sources on their ancient history because

Confucius did not mention them. This blinding veneration of the
Chinese sage could only be overcome by Europeans, who could value
these texts despite the fables they contained.48 Davis equally set out
to demonstrate which ‘facts’ could be relied on respecting Chinese his-
tory, excluding most Chinese sources. Once these facts were known, he
argued, the European researcher could conduct further targeted research
into Chinese history.49
Closely linked to the debates of Chinese history were those about
Chinese religion. Both focused on the question of origin. Christianity
was also in the metropolis the main reference frame for the study of
the Chinese religions. In the metropolis, their connection to India was
however of equal importance. The discussions about Chinese religions
in publications such as the Asiatic Journal or the Transactions of the Royal
Asiatic Society were not primarily conducted by the Protestant mission-
aries, but by those EIC employees who had learned Chinese, or scholars
of Chinese, like Klaproth, and other self-styled experts on Asia. It was
thus more an historical interest that inspired these debates.
The idea of the ‘Three Chinese religions’, Confucianism, Buddhism
and Taoism, had already manifested itself.50 With regard to both Bud-
dhism and Taoism, the question of the connection between India and
China was the major field of enquiry. While it was accepted by now
that Buddhism had come to China from India, the exact circumstances
were still a matter of interest. In general, the accounts of the spread
of Buddhism in China were based on translations of old Chinese texts.
According to them, Emperor Ming of the Han dynasty had dreamed of
a saviour from the West and sent an emissary to look for him, who then
brought back the lore of Buddha from his travels. The Jesuits had already
included this account into their works, but now new translations were
made available to a wider public through prints and articles, such as in
the Asiatic Journal.51
The Indian origin of Buddhism therefore remained important for
further attempts to reveal more about this religion. In the metropo-
lis, Indian Buddhism served as the main point of reference to explain
Chinese Buddhism, rather than its Tibetan variation. A contributor
in the Asiatic Journal, for example, stated that the Asiatic Societies of
Calcutta, Paris, London and St. Petersburg had done much to remove the
errors and insufficient knowledge that had prevailed in respect to Bud-
dhism. Nevertheless, he refuted the latest attempt by Karl Neumann, a
German Sinologue, by translating the ‘Catechism of the Shamans’ from
the Chinese as flawed, due to the lack of Neumann’s understanding of
Chinese as well as the Brahmanical system. He thus rejected Neumann’s
idea that Buddhism was the Lutheranism of the Hindus.52 While there
was no such obvious connection as with Buddhism, there were also
attempts to trace Taoism to India, by comparing what was considered
to be Taoist doctrine with the scripts of Hinduism.53
History and religion had been prominent fields for the description of
China since the early Jesuit reports. Klaproth’s allusion to the physiog-
nomy of the Chinese marks the development of another category in
the way Europeans attributed meaning to the differences of mankind
in this period and ranked the thus constituted groups. As Nancy Stepan
and Roxanne Wheeler have shown, the turn from the 18th to the 19th
century marked the beginning of ideas of race that would shape this
category until well into the 1960s. In the 16th and 17th century, the
differentiation of mankind had mainly operated with the categories of
religion, geography and clothing. In the late 17th and 18th century,
attention was paid to the skin colour and physiognomy. Within the
period discussed the idea developed that skin colour was fixed and not
only a result of the different climates on earth and its effect on the bod-
ily fluids. In this context, the ranking of mankind according to the skin
colour began, seeing white as the most perfect form, and black as the
lowest.54 In addition, at the close of the 18th century, the new science
of comparative anatomy studied the complexity of the mental organisa-
tion and internal mechanisms of anatomical structures in man, which
could also be read from the facial angle of the skull.55
Walter Demel has shown that the classification of the Chinese as ‘yel-
low’ only developed in the 18th century finally becoming permanent
in the 19th century.56 In the earlier period, the theorists still differed
heavily as to which colour of skin they attributed to a people and in the
conclusions they drew from this.57 Particularly in the 16th and 17th
century, when the Chinese were still thought to be culturally equal,
they were described as ‘white’ most of the time. As the opinion on the
Chinese became more negative they were increasingly seen as ‘yellow’
or coloured in some way, normally ‘black’ or ‘brown’. Yellow probably
finally became the colour that was attributed to the Chinese, because
one saw them as not as civilised as the Western Europeans, but also not
as primitive as the Africans and therefore looked for an intermediate
colour that suited this position. Furthermore, Demel points out, accord-
ing to the psychology of colour, ‘yellow’ corresponded particularly
with ambivalence and lack of transparency which was often seen as a
dominant characteristic of the Chinese.58
John Barrow was one of the first Britons who were to pay closer
attention to the physiognomy of the Chinese. In contrast to the other
members of the Macartney embassy, he uses it as a factor to determine
the position of the Chinese amongst the different people. He described

them as slightly taller than the Tartars, with small slant eyes, high
cheekbones and pointed chins. In respect to the skin colour, Barrow
still defined it as ‘between fair and dark complexion, which we distin-
guish by the word brunet or brunette’.59 He however also emphasised that
one of Chinese legates who accompanied the embassy had a face that
differed in nothing but the form of the eyes from that of a European.60
John Barrow was one of the first in Britain, who tried to position the
Chinese in relation to other peoples and migration patterns on account
of their physiognomy, and not just their language or religion.
Barrow assumed that due to similarities of physiognomy, character
and costumes between the peoples, the Chinese had made extended
sea voyages in earlier times and that some of the Indian tribes in South
America and California were descended from them, as well as the inhab-
itants of the island Sakhalin and of some parts of Africa. He claimed
that the Chinese had the biggest similarities with the Hottentots. He
explained this by common descent and justified his argument by obser-
vation and study of their external characteristics: both peoples had,
according to Barrow, an upper eyelid that was bent towards the nose and
did not have an angle there as the Europeans had. Furthermore, both
had small limbs, flat noses and a long distance between the slanting
eyes. The temperament, skin colour and the voices were also identical.
Only the hair was different, which could be the result of mixing the
Chinese with the Mosambicans.61
In this way, the Chinese, as well as the Hottentots, had been defini-
tively classified and were now distinguishable from other people. The
Chinese may have shared common ancestors with the Hottentots, but
clearly not with the Europeans.
In spite of classifying the Chinese according to external charac-
teristics, this in themselves did not yet determine anything, as the
comparison between the supposedly barbarian Hottentots and the more
civilised Chinese showed. For Barrow the form of government and not
racial characteristics determined the character and level of civilisation of
a people. In the case of the Chinese, this was oriental despotism, which
was however already more civilised than the form of government of the
Hottentots. In this, Barrow was still part of the tradition of the 18th, not
the 19th century.62 His account was to be significant for the early British
writers about race and the new science of comparative anatomy.
For James Prichard, the early racial theorist, the Chinese formed a peo-
ple on its own, distinct from the Mongolian race. Significantly, he did
not use a comparison of their external features nor of their anatomy to
prove this but rather the arguments of comparative philology. For him,
the monosyllabic language of the Chinese and Indo-Chinese nations
were proof enough that they formed a race of their own. He adopted
Barrow’s description of their physiognomy, including the skin colour,
which he thus saw as close to a European brunette, which could darken
through exposure to the sun.63
William Lawrence in contrast followed the German anthropolo-
gist Johann Friedrich Blumenbach in grouping the Chinese with the
Mongolian race.64 His attention was mainly focused on what he calls
the Mongolian tribes, which he associated with Genghis Khan, Attila
and Tamerlan. To define the racial features of the Mongolian race, he
used the skulls, skin colour and other physical features of the Calmucks
and Burats. He also referred to Barrow’s description of the Tartars and
the Chinese and used them to show that both people clearly belong
to the same race.65 In his discussion of the intellectual qualities of the
different races, the still high reputation of the Chinese and Japanese
civilisations stood in this context in uneasy relation to his derogative
view of all non-white races. It however led him to explain the presumed
phenomenon of the lack of Chinese development for the first time with
inherent, unchangeable racial characteristics:
While the empires of China and Japan prove that this race is suscep-
tible of civilisation, and of great advancement in the useful and even
elegant arts of life, and exhibit the singular phenomenon of political
and social institutions between two and three thousand years older
than the Christian era, the fact of their having continued nearly sta-
tionary for so many centuries, marks an inferiority of nature and a
limited capacity in comparison to that of the white races.66
A scholarly discourse thus began to be formed about the physical char-

acteristics of the Chinese and the rank that followed from this in the
development of humankind. One should however not overestimate the
importance of this discourse. As we have seen earlier in Crawfurd’s
writings, these Chinese physical characteristics were important in the
‘contact zone’ of Southeast Asia to establish the relationship between
the Chinese and the other ethnic groups there. In the metropolitan
context, scholars tried to find a place for the ‘Asians’ in their theories
of mankind, which were however primarily aimed at and derived from
the study of Africans and American Indians. It also had seemingly no
influence outside these scientific debates. The question of race, in this
19th century sense of the word, played no role in the debates about
Chinese–British relations until the 1840s. The descriptions of the few

Chinese visitors to Britain in the early 19th century paid very little atten-
tion to their physical characteristics. No allusion is made to the colour
of their skin being ‘yellow’, and only in one case their physiognomy is
described as ‘Of the Tartarian mould’.67
To assess the correct position of China on the rank of civilisation was
one of the prime objectives of these discussions about Chinese history,
religion and race. The level of Chinese civilisation and the status of its
culture had long been a matter for debate, especially since most British
commentators felt it had been exaggerated by the Jesuits.68
John Barrow most prominently used his role during the Macartney
embassy to produce more legitimate knowledge about the Chinese to
assess their rank on the scale of civilisations. As the subtitle of his book
on the Macartney embassy stated, in his report he wanted to ascer-
tain the place of ‘[. . .] this extraordinary empire’ on the ‘[. . .] scale of
civilised nations’. For this, Barrow looked at the typical criteria accord-
ing to which one could classify a nation, like language, their religion,
the development of their science, their arts and form of government.69
In this context, the new and allegedly more objective knowledge col-
lected by the British in the ‘contact zone’, such as Staunton’s translation
of the Chinese Penal Code, was deemed to be crucial. The use of this
new information varied significantly in Britain from that in Canton. In
the metropolis, it was mainly seen as a tool to better establish the stage
of the development and nature of Chinese civilisation.70
The translation was supposed to improve British knowledge of
Chinese civilisation, since, as Staunton established with reference to
Gibbon, ‘The laws of a nation form the most instructive portion of
its history.’71 He argued with Montesquieu and William Jones that laws
always had to be culturally specific and had to be based on tradition.72
Precisely for this reason, the Chinese laws reflected the peculiarities
of Chinese culture and could provide foreigners with a window onto
the underlying principles of this civilisation. Reviewers of Staunton’s
work in the Asiatic Journal, 20 years after its first publication, in the
context of the debates about the end of the EIC trading monopoly
could identify similarities between Indian and Chinese law. Nevertheless
they emphasised the singularity of the Chinese system and the Chinese
culture.73 For Staunton, the characteristic of Chinese culture was mainly
the patrimonial principle which he deemed to be the founding con-
cept of Chinese society, government and law. The study of the laws of a
culture was also used in this context to determine the level of its civil-
isation. In Staunton’s opinion, the Chinese Penal Code clearly showed
that China was an ancient and advanced civilisation however charac-

terised by Asian despotism. It still did not have the characteristics of a
commercial society which the stage theory saw as the highest stage.74
In his preface, Staunton thus clearly argued against the ideas of the
Utilitarians such as Bentham and Mill, who supported the idea of a uni-
versal standard for the assessment of laws.75 The ideas of both William
Jones and his Utilitarian opponents were to a large extent concerned
with the consolidation and legitimisation of British rule in India.76 How-
ever, as in the Indian case, the attack on Chinese law, influenced by
Anglicists and Utilitarian ideas, became increasingly predominant. The
Asiatic Journal thus raised the criticism that though the principles of
law might have been formed in accordance with Chinese culture, they
inevitably led to despotism and corruption and therefore could not
simply be accepted as a cultural expression of the Chinese.77 Chinese
civilisation was thus more and more considered to be flawed and similar
to other Asian despotisms.
Staunton’s translation of the Chinese law also influenced James Mill
in his assessment of the state of India’s civilisation.78 Mill relied on both
Barrow’s and Staunton’s texts, but significantly no longer on any Jesuit
authorities.79 He came to the conclusion that, like India and other Asian
nations, China was a long way from being the advanced civilisation the
Jesuits had described. He considered it both to be deficient in the sci-
ences and innovation, as well as treacherous, insincere and unclean. In
some aspects, the Chinese had an advantage over the Indians, specif-
ically in their industriousness and in the progress made in relation to
crafts.80 This idea of China as the most advanced of the contemporary
Asian nations thus found its way also into the writings about Asia in
the metropolis. The industriousness of the Chinese was here however,
in contrast to Southeast Asia, not seen in connection to their capabilities
as settlers or workers, but rather as an advantage that could level some
of the negative effects of their culture and explain why China had not
yet decayed to the extent of India under Mughal rule.
This was also a position John Davis took in his memoirs on China
designed for the metropolitan audience. For him, China clearly held the
prime position amongst the nations of Asia, whose earlier achievements
in political stability and wealth were mainly due to its northern geo-
graphic situation. However, similar to James Mill, China was in his eyes
largely in deficit in comparison to Europe. As for Barrow and Mill, his
criteria were its retarded progress in science, the arts, the failure to pro-
vide security of property, the rights of women and the lack of a good
and well-established moral and political philosophy.81
These debates meant a further shift in the meaning of China for the
British in the metropolis. China was now more clearly located within an
Asian context, mainly due to the new attention India received within
the debates about the origin of civilisation. The knowledge formed in
the networks in Asia meant that the British now believed to have more
valid knowledge about it. Knowledge production about China for the
British had to take place in the ‘contact zones’ of Asia, as the prob-
lem of the study of Chinese language makes clear. A mere textual bases,
which Rémusat and also Klaproth considered to be sufficient was lacking
authenticity in the eyes of the British.
The new knowledge about China was used to revisit the old sites of
debate about China: its antiquity, religion and its link to other civilisa-
tions and finally, its level of civilisation. The main tendency of the late
18th century was continued here, supported by allegedly new and more
objective knowledge. The claim by the Chinese and the Sinophiles in
Europe to China’s antiquity and high civilisation was attacked, Confu-
cianism and Taoism placed in one line with other superstitious Asian
religions. In terms of its civilisation, it was made clear that while China
might still be one of the most developed civilisations in Asia, it was far
from reaching European or British level. This was crucial to support the
idea that Britain was unquestionable on the highest level of civilisation,
a status China to which long had been a claimant.
These discussions were also not only theoretical speculations like
some of its predecessors in the 18th century. As the next sections
show, they established a meaning of China that could seemingly objec-
tively be shown to be at a lower stage of civilisation compared with
Britain. This status thus could call for and allow an intervention in
Chinese affairs by the British. The Protestant mission created with their
own networks of information and knowledge distribution a meaning
of China that resulted in an even more urgent call for British evan-
gelical action in China. On the other hand, the debate about the EIC
company monopoly and later about the legitimacy to go to war with
China would revisit many of the topics addressed above and make the
question of Chinese civilisation a crucial element in the discussions
about British–Chinese relations.
5.2 Saving China
In the periphery, the missionaries faced frustration and isolation in their

missionary enterprise. They co-operated with the EIC and the British
and Dutch Residencies. They collected information on religion, but also
on day-to-day politics of the countries they were concerned with, espe-

cially China. Their letters and reports, carefully edited, brought these
ideas from China and Southeast Asia back to Britain, where they were
inserted in a context that reflected the concerns of the metropolis.
The audience which the missionaries reached was one which proba-
bly had very little previous contact with China, whether by way of the
Jesuit reports or perhaps even by the fashion for Chinoiserie. As William
Milne formulated it, the Jesuit accounts had been written in a foreign
language, they were too long and too expensive to furnish the British
public with information of China. This deficit had to be filled by the
missionaries in his opinion.82 Through publications like the Evangelical
Magazine and the Missionary Chronicle, but also through a variety of soci-
eties such as the British and Foreign Bible Society (BFBS), the British and
Foreign School Society, an Association in Manchester formed on behalf
of the funds of the Anglo-Chinese College83 and the London Mission-
ary Society and its local branches these people continuously received
information about China. It seemed to them authentic and true, since it
was based on the local expertise of the missionaries and their religious
integrity. The new knowledge about China thus became embedded in a
set of reports from all countries of the world which had come into the
interest sphere of evangelicals. This gave the readership of these mag-
azines the impression of a worldwide network which worked for the
salvation of mankind, with the English at its centre. The most promi-
nent expression of this view were certainly the anti-slavery campaign
and the fight against the sati in India.
The information brought to this audience from China was shaped to
meet the needs for fundraising, both of money and men, and the poli-
tics of the periphery. Thus, even though the mission made little progress
in terms of converts, most reports in the Missionary Chronicle and the
Evangelical Magazine highlight the positive aspects and the supposed
progress of the mission. When the Chinese increased the prosecution
of Roman Catholics in the country and the emperor issued an edict
against Christianity, Morrison decided to continue in Canton, but still
was rather worried about the prospect of the mission. In his letters to
the LMS however, he asked not to publish this information, so as not
to alarm the EIC’s Directors.84 The Evangelical Magazine even decided to
print a rather positive note on the edict, conjuring up the power of the
word of God and claiming ‘that it will be impossible for the Emperor
of China, or his officers, to prevent the circulation of the Scriptures in
that empire, as many thousands of the Chinese annually visit Penang,
Java, and other parts of the world, where the Bible may be put into their
hands, and by them be introduced into the country.’85 In the annual

reports of the LMS and the BFBS, the lack of converts was made up for by
the praise of Morrison’s translations and how he ‘mastered’ this difficult
language.86
The information the British evangelical audience received was how-
ever not only a bit more positive but also concentrated to an extreme
extent on a religious perspective. The very first report by Morrison which
was printed in the Missionary Transaction was a description of the super-
stitious practices of the Chinese.87 Even more focused is the letter series
which Morrison wrote for the Evangelical Magazine called ‘Remarks on
the language, history, religions, and government of China’, published in
1825. It was the first really extensive coverage by a British magazine on
China, inspired by Morrison’s home visit in the same year. Even though
the title promised a wide range of information on the country, the letters
were only concerned with the religions of China, and the mission to it.88
However, when he tried to reach a broader audience, as with his
‘China: A dialogue for the use of schools’, to gain more support for the
missionary cause, and especially his Anglo-Chinese College at Malacca,
Morrison included more details about Chinese history, language and
society. In this little book for children, he translated Chinese history
into a European-Christian history, equating events of the one with the
other. By doing this, he completely dismissed the claim that the antiq-
uity of Chinese history could question the chronology and validity
of the Bible.89 The information he produced about China thus should
make this country more familiar and understandable to his audience.90
He also presented China as a civilised country, which had produced
a lot of good learning, continuously emphasising that the British had
no right to despise the Chinese on accord of their ‘foolishness’ and
‘vices’ but rather had to love them as one of God’s creatures that had
taken the wrong way. Moreover, only those Britons who had ‘reformed’
themselves into good and moral Christians had the right to point out
the faults of another people. A bad Englishman, who claimed to be a
Christian was in Morrison’s eyes as bad as a pagan Chinese.91
Since the evangelicals were good Christians, China appeared on the
mental map of this part of British society as a country in need of
the British benevolence. To show its inhabitants the message of the
Gospel, even against their will,92 was a divine duty for the British. In
sermons which Morrison preached during his stay in England in 1825,
he depicted the Chinese as imprisoned by Satan, prisoners who are ‘hug-
ging their chains’.93 This necessity to help the Chinese did not just result
from the higher state of civilisation of evangelical British or the fact that
they had been Christians for centuries. Because they were Christians,
they were sincere and good people, of whose involvement everybody
would benefit and whose benevolence towards ‘wretched creatures in
all nations’ was a Christian duty.94 Morrison evoked the idea not of dif-
ference between the different cultures and nations, but of unity, using
the same language as the abolition for slavery campaign had done:
Do we too maintain the infidel opinion, that we are a superior race;

and that God did not make of one blood all nations of men, and thus
contradict and blaspheme the Bible! Do we still hold the silly opinion
that geographical limits, a river, a mountain, or an imaginary line,
destroys the brotherhood of the family of man?95
The only difference in his eyes lay in the amount of possibilities to learn
about the right faith in different parts of the world.96 This brotherhood
of the family of man meant, however, that the spiritual well-being of
the Chinese had to be as important to a Christian as the salvation of the
enslaved African or the Indian widow.
In Britain, there was certainly a stronger focus at the time on the anti-
slavery question, the conversion of the Pacific islanders and the fight
against the sati in India. Nevertheless, the Protestant Mission to China
and its reports back home meant that the moral improvement of China
had moved onto the agenda of the evangelicals. China was not a dis-
tant, mythical country anymore. Its inhabitants were brethren suffering
in the darkness of ignorance. The influence of evangelical thought in
the political arena, as through the Clapham sect, made this meaning
of China especially important during the debates on the renewal of the
EIC charter in 1813, and even more so in 1832–1834 and in the run-up
to the Opium War.
5.3 Forces of free trade
In the summer of 1831, a petition to the House of Commons ‘from

British subjects residing in China’ reached Britain. Headed by Matheson,
Wright and John Robert Morrison, the country traders in Canton com-
plained about the repressions by the Chinese Hong merchants and
Chinese government and the misrepresentation of the foreign mer-
chants by them. Their main argument was that for the trade to continue,
an international treaty with China was necessary and furthermore that
‘a higher authority is required, emanating directly from his Majesty’,
to show that the British at Canton had not lost the protection of their
sovereign.97 Resulting from the interests, dissatisfactions and discourses

of the Canton contact zone, it arrived in a country struggling with the
post-war situation and the call for reform. Most historians now empha-
sise the continuities rather than the ruptures during what has been
labelled ‘the Age of Reform’. They discuss how the reforms often safe-
guarded the old order rather than the beginning of a trajectory towards
a new, mainly bourgeoisie, one.98 Nevertheless, the defining features
of this period are certainly the debates on free trade, laissez faire and
the criticism of ‘Old Corruption’. Boyd Hilton and Anthony Waterman
have shown how some of these ideas on free trade were the result of a
marriage between Scottish political economy and evangelical thought,
which interpreted the law of the market as God given and as a moral
trial and incitement for moral improvement.99 These free trade ideas
could be used to justify an ‘informal imperialism’ rather than peaceful
anti-imperialism.100
However, as Anna Gambles has pointed out, this ‘Christian politi-
cal economy’ and liberalism was not uncontested. Rather, there was
a substantial orthodox Tory, later Conservative opposition, which was
anti-individualistic, in favour of economic protectionism and monopo-
lies of trade, with a historically based empirical approach to economic
and social issues which contrasted with the more theoretical approach of
their contemporaries.101 The debate about the end of the EIC monopoly
for the China trade was one of the prominent sites for these contro-
versies between free trade advocates and their Conservative adversaries,
even though it tends to be somewhat neglected in historiographies of
this period.
When the EIC charter came up for renewal in 1833, the question
of the nature of the Indian government and the settlement of English
people in India was central to the debate in the newspapers and parlia-
ment. This time, however, the EIC trade monopoly with China, which
had only been a peripheral issue in 1813, became one of the domi-
nant topics. In the last decade before the 1830s, China had acquired
an economic importance for a number of groups whose financial and
patronage interests lay mainly outside of or at odds with the EIC system.
The country trade became more and more profitable and the method
of remitting profits to London by the way of the EIC bills was no
longer satisfactory. Increasingly, the traders used other methods, such
as bullion or American bills on London, which to a great extent made
them independent from the EIC.102 Private merchants also increasingly
avoided the EIC monopoly by shipping British manufactures to China
through continental European or American agents. In the eyes of many,
this dangerously strengthened the American China trade.103 In these cir-

cumstances, it became even more interesting to have the tea trade as a
medium of remittance. As the petition cited above shows, however, the
central focus of the country traders was the question of the restrictions
the EIC could impose in Canton and the lack of a voice that would sup-
port their requests. An end to the EIC monopoly could at least end their
double status of illegality and provide their presence with some reliable
basis from the British side.
The most significant group fighting against the EIC monopoly was
that of the Manchester manufacturers and businessmen. Especially after
the successful opening of the Indian market to British cotton, they saw
China as the next huge market that they could export their products
to. This no longer stood mainly in the context of finding a way to
counterbalance the tea import, which had been the main question for
Dalrymple and his contemporaries. With new confidence in the quality
of British cotton products, the Lancashire manufactures and Manchester
merchants were looking for new markets for their products in the East.
This went hand in hand with the concerns of the free trade advocates
who argued in favour of the necessity to abolish all trade restrictions to
avoid the problem of a lack of domestic demand and in order to keep
Britain’s growing population in work.104 At the same time, an opening
of the tea import trade to all British merchants could increase the com-
mercial profits of trading cities such as Liverpool and Manchester, which
were mainly excluded from the tea import which the EIC conducted via
London.105 For these groups, China acquired the meaning of a perfect
market that was now more detached from British interests in India, an
interest to which the EIC and its restrictions on trade were clearly seen as
an obstacle. After all, in their eyes, the company had utterly failed in sell-
ing British products to China. This was a typical position formed in the
metropolis. Even the country traders, who supported the end of the EIC
monopoly, did not expect an increase in the sale of British manufactures
to China.106
The end of the EIC trade monopoly to China has often been seen
as the natural consequence of the trajectory of the ‘Age of Reform’,
which generated little opposition.107 Recently, Anna Gambles pointed
out that the supporters of the EIC did challenge the assumptions of the
free traders about the potential market for British goods in China.108 By
closely studying both sides of the debate, we can gain an understand-
ing of how two different meanings of China were used, shaped by the
beliefs of the different groups as well as their political and commercial
interests. The main lines were those of free trade involvement versus
monopolistic mercantilist distance from the Chinese state. Similar to

the academic debate about Chinese religion, literature and race in the
pages of the Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, this discussion was led by
those who had either served British interests in Asia or had strong finan-
cial connections with the British expansion in the East. There could no
longer be an approach to China in the British public sphere that was
unconnected to the networks of Britain’s Asian Empire.
As much as being an economic argument the debate about the end of
the monopoly on the China trade and the EIC administration in India
was therefore also a decisive debate about the nature of Britain’s rela-
tionship with Asia. The Empire had by this time become an integrated
part of British self-definition, especially the new conquests in Asia.109
As the charter debate showed, however, there was no clear agreement
about the future expansion policy and Britain’s relation to Asia. Par-
ticularly the question of the nature of international relations with an
extra-European power and legality in this context became important.
China thus became the test case of whether there were universal nat-
ural laws dictating the market and international relations, or whether
they were solely determined by the sovereign of a realm and historical
development.
The controversy over the EIC’s charter was one of the most promi-
nent contact points between the knowledge and meaning produced
outside mainland Britain, in Asia, and the development of ideas which
mainly resulted from internal British politics, such as the Reform Bill
and the Poor Law. The campaign against the monopoly of the EIC only
really began with the agitation of James Silk Buckingham, who as edi-
tor of the Calcutta Journal had so angered the EIC government with his
extremely critical articles that they finally evicted him from India.110
Back in Britain, he set out to rally the merchants and manufacturers
in the industrial and commercial towns in the north against the EIC
charter. He was joined by the advocates of free trade, who also cam-
paigned for the Reform Bill, Catholic Emancipation and the repeal of
the Corn Laws.111 The EIC was attacked as a prominent example of ‘Old
Corruption’ and its supporters as the typical exponents of those forces
that worked against parliamentary reform.112
Free trade per se included reciprocity, thus always implying a certain
understanding of international relations, which was less defined by the
sovereignty of the state or empire than by the natural laws of trade. This
required a China that would open its gates to trade. For free trade sup-
porters, the reciprocity of trade and the free competition were necessary
to reach the best possible outcome for mankind and of course the largest
profits for themselves. China’s constant refusal to bow to these theories

or to British influence dominated British public discourse on China in
the 1830s. Those with economic and political interest in a different trade
policy in Britain as well as in Asia gave room to the reports of those in
the contact zones in Canton and Southeast Asia who wanted free trade
with China, like Jardine, Matheson and Crawfurd.
They argued that until now the British had been deceived by the
Chinese assurances of power, their glamour and spectacles. Especially
the embassies, which formerly had been hailed as bringers of new
knowledge about China, were now seen as naïve and easily impressed
believers.113 In their opinion, only the free, if illicit, trade of the country
merchants with the Chinese population at Canton had finally revealed
the truth of the falsehood and lack of substance of any of the claims
made by the Manchu government. Only the unfortunate adherents of
the EIC system still believed these claims, partly because they were as
false and full of corruption as the Chinese.114
The timid, but arrogant and false character of the Chinese govern-
ment thus called for the use of force, which would be successful due to
the inferior and weak status of the Chinese government, both in terms
of armament and its grip on its country. Here, in the metropolis, the
analogy with India, which Macartney had put forward for the first time
after his embassy, became dominant once more. Crucial for the compar-
ison was that the Tartars were again seen as a foreign power ruling over
the Chinese like the Mughals in India. An anonymous writer stated that
That government, like some of the governments which we have

destroyed, or but nominally preserved in India, is foreign to the peo-
ple over whom it exercises dominion; and though some centuries
have elapsed since the Tartar progenitors of the actual ruling class in
China invaded that country, there still remains as marked a difference
between the rulers and the ruled, as between the Mahomedan gov-
erning class and the Hindoo people in some provinces of India.115
The only reason the Tartars were still in power was the ‘timidity of the
conquered race’. To keep them in this state, the Tartars prohibited every
intercourse with foreigners. ‘All appearances are false, or a word from
so powerful a government as that of Britain, addressed to the people of
China, would dissolve the Chinese government.’116
The supporters of free trade drew the conclusion that as the Chinese
government was weak, deceptive and not accepted by the population,
consequently it was not deemed necessary to obey its laws. Another
line of argument was based on the idea of the natural laws of trade.
Crawfurd in particular argued that monopolies could never hold: British
restrictions on the export of wool could not hinder the trade, thus an
‘imbecile government’ like the Chinese would not be able to prevent
the opium trade, even if they really wanted to. The ineffectiveness of
man-made laws in contrast with ‘natural laws’ of free trade was a suf-
ficient argument for Crawfurd to justify the violation of Chinese trade
laws.117
However, this deconstruction of the Chinese government necessi-
tated the construction of a new agent in British–Chinese relations. Here
again the ideas from the contact zones in Canton and Southeast Asia
were imported into the metropolitan context. The free trade supporters
focused on the ordinary Chinese, who, according to the new knowl-
edge about China, were not anti-commercial, but in contrast extremely
inclined to business. Thus, for example, Gützlaff or Hamilton Lindsay
recounted in the Asiatic Journal how they were cheerfully received by
local Mandarins and businessmen during their trip up the China coast
while the higher authorities called them ‘deceitful barbarians’.118 John
Crawfurd promoted this idea, writing that ‘They [the Chinese] are in the
Eastern what the Hollanders are, or rather were, in the Western world.’119
Thus the Chinese were viewed as being hardly different from the
British or Dutch, but restricted by their government and lacking any
moral development. The free traders in general created the idea of a
China that was not the complete other, not a ‘peculiar’ nation, but was
subject to the same laws of commerce and international relations as the
rest of the world. If its government did not comply with these laws, it
was unnatural, hindering improvement and, in extreme cases, justifying
the use of force for the sake of Britain and of the Chinese population.
The evangelical influence together with the commercial and strategic
interests of the periphery and the free trade ideas in Britain turned
British perception of China from one of the complete other into one
that one could attack, colonise and improve, because it was principally
subject to the same laws of nature and civilisation and thus could be
judged and understood by the British. This went hand in hand with the
idea that through the study of Chinese language and history one could
now understand China, albeit still seeing it as culturally very different
from Europe.
Thus it became almost the duty of the British to improve the lot of
the Chinese population, which had suffered from the restrictions on
the benefits of a reciprocal relationship with the British both by their
government and the EIC monopoly. Crawfurd wrote thus
This conduct [the monopoly U.H.] has not been more injurious
to ourselves, than to the nations it has so long deprived of the
advantages derivable from a free intercourse with Europe . . . That the
immeasurable superiority of the people of Europe in knowledge of
all sorts, should hitherto have had so little influence upon their Asi-
atic brethren, is entirely owing to the jealous systems of commercial
policy that have obtained amongst us.120
The question of abolishing the monopoly was thus not just a question
of economic and social benefit to the British, but also a measure for
‘forwarding the civilisation of the Eastern world’, and it was the British
Parliament which had the opportunity and the duty to achieve this.121
The benefits of free trade for society were thus merged with the civilising
mission of the British, an issue over which evangelicals and free traders
joined their efforts. The adherents of free trade have traditionally been
seen as victors in this debate. This does not mean, however, that their
opinions were unopposed at the time, nor that criticism of them ceased
after 1834.
The EIC supporters belonged to the ideological spectrum of the ortho-
dox Tories, later Conservatives,122 who had developed an alternative
political economy, adverse to the evangelical free trade liberalism of
their fellow Conservatives, Lord Liverpool, Robert Peel, Henry Goulburn
and the like. Their economic protectionism was aimed at preserving the
constitutional status quo. Therefore, any measures which might devalue
property, such as a repeal of the Corn Laws, were seen as dangerous
impingements on private property by the state. In their eyes, it was not
competition but rather experience and the continuation of the revolu-
tionary settlement of 1688 that provided the best society. At the same
time, they believed that through tariffs the government could preserve
social stability by providing sufficient consumers for British products.
Equally, they saw the Reform Act as dangerously unbalancing the sys-
tem of virtual representation, which also included the residents in the
British colonies. In addition to this, the abolition of the EIC’s adminis-
tration in India would mean direct control by the British government
over Indian patronage.123
In the context of the charter debates in 1813, but even more so in
1834, the supporters of the EIC constructed the idea of a China that
corresponded to their protectionist model of the state and international
relations. They thus tried to justify the continuation of the EIC trading
monopoly with China, in which they frequently also held a personal
interest as employees or stockholders of the EIC.124 Like the Free Traders,
they claimed to have the only true knowledge about China, which dif-
fered significantly from that of the former group. They claimed to have
derived this knowledge from the experience of those on the spot. For
example, Thomas Fisher, member of the London missionary society,
clerk in East India House and a frequent correspondent with Robert Mor-
rison, claimed the authority of the missionary as a prominent China
expert in his essays about the EIC charter.125 This was despite the fact
that he disagreed with Morrison precisely on the question of the advis-
ability of the continuation of the EIC’s monopoly.126 In a similar vein,
Montgomery Martin argued that the manufacturers, who were cam-
paigning for free trade, had no knowledge about the real conditions
at Canton. This could only be acquired by those on the spot, mainly
the EIC servants. He conveniently ignored the support by some of the
country traders for the position of the free traders.127
Since the Conservatives thought that it was the fundamental role of
the state to protect and form its economy for the benefit of its citizens,
it seemed only natural to them that China should have the right to
exclude trade if it wanted to. Montgomery Martin, proprietor of the EIC
and author on colonial questions, arrived at this conclusion from typi-
cal reasoning about the relationship of the state, liberty and free trade.
According to him, liberty was maintained by the right balance of the
legislature and the institutions of a nation. In other words, the constitu-
tional settlement secured property through the controlling power of the
unreformed parliament. Free trade could never guarantee this freedom,
since, by its nature, it is dependent on the will of another state, which
might even be hostile, to allow reciprocal trade.128
In the mind of the Conservatives, free trade could not possibly be
the dominant guideline for external relations, since every state would
try to protect its economy in the event of hostilities. In their view,
international relations were not defined by natural laws, due to which
reciprocity could be expected and demanded. Every state had the right
to decide that free trade was not the right measure at a particular time.
China, Montgomery argued with references to Klaproth, was a state of
great antiquity, largely self-sufficient, which despised foreign trade. And
a sovereign of its realm could with all legitimacy decide to reject foreign
trade.129 Thus, Britain could hardly rely on China opening itself up for
free trade nor demand it. Similarly, Henry Ellis, who had accompanied
the Amherst embassy, made it clear that there were no natural laws of
trade and international relations from which the British could derive
any legal claims against China. In arguing this, he used the increas-
ingly predominant idea of a positive law of nations: since there were
no treaties with the Chinese, the British could not demand any lifting
of the restrictions on trade.130 While the abolition of the EIC monopoly
for the trade to India might have really opened the market for British
products, this could not serve as an example for the China market, since
it was at the discretion of the Chinese government and the Hong mer-
chants whether they wanted to import more British cotton and wool.
The end of the EIC trade monopoly would thus hardly make any differ-
ence in this respect.131 The Conservatives also vehemently criticised the
smuggling activities by the British country merchants and the attempt
of Lindsay and Gützlaff to trade at other Chinese ports further up the
coast.132
The Chinese refusal to open its gates to reciprocal trade for them
meant that the trade on the British side could also only be conducted
by a monopolistic company, such as the EIC. They were the only ones
who united the British interests on the spot and thus safeguarded them
against the monopolistic actions of the Hong merchants.133
The claim that China had the full right to exclude from its territory
whomever it wanted went hand in hand with the argument of the EIC
supporters that China was still a highly civilised country. The silent rea-
soning behind this assertion was that in contrast to some Indian states,
or the Australian tribes, China had such a high and still flourishing civil-
isation that the British could hardly be so arrogant as to claim that they
had a right to tell China how to act. Thus Thomas Fisher recalled to
his readers, ‘The Chinese, it will also be recollected, are not savages,
though many of them are pagans; but are an educated and eminently
literary nation, having possessed the art of printing for now nearly 1000
years.’134 The only way to interact with the Chinese was thus to appeal
to their reason, rather than resorting to the use of force.135 The nat-
ural resources of China were quite well developed, leaving little for
the British to improve. An exception to this was, of course, the moral
character of the Chinese. Fisher agreed with other evangelicals that the
Chinese lacked the divine inspiration of Christianity. He vehemently
argued however that the mission could never be furthered by military
means, which would only damage the reputation of the British and with
it that of Christianity.136
Thus, China was considered by the Conservatives to be a civilised
and sovereign country, and one which had the right to organise its
trade in whichever way it wanted. Nevertheless, it was made clear that
China was very different from a European country. The trope of Chi-
nese otherness was highlighted in this context in order to emphasise
the need of experts to deal with this country – experts only the EIC
could provide.137 Ellis saw the EIC as the only way to deal with a gov-
ernment, ‘so totally different, from the rest of the civilized world, in the
laws and usages regulating international intercourse’.138 Martin also jus-
tified the EIC monopoly and the costs of maintenance for the factory
at Canton, by arguing that the EIC servants worked under very special
conditions at Canton. He particularly emphasised the lack of diplomatic
representation and the hostility of the Chinese to commerce in general.
In contrast to Fisher, he regarded the Chinese as only semi-civilised, due
to their mistrust of foreigners, highlighting the difficulties which the
EIC servants managed to overcome.139 Chinese otherness was therefore
used as an important argument against the idea of the free traders that
institutions such as the EIC factory at Canton were unnecessary finan-
cial burdens on the consumers, because they served no real economic
purpose.140
As Anna Gambles has pointed out, the Conservatives considered the
fall of the EIC trade monopoly and the potential end of its administra-
tion in India as a major constitutional issue, since direct rule over India
by the Crown brought the danger of increased patronage at the hand
of the Crown, thus threatening the balanced constitution of Britain.141
According to this argument, the monopoly on the China trade was par-
ticularly important because it was crucial for the finances of the EIC
administration in India. Thus, in the eyes of the Conservatives, consid-
ering the question of the China trade solely under commercial aspects
was a crucial mistake the free traders made.142 Only by being indepen-
dent, in terms of finances as well as political, could the EIC prevent the
British Empire from the fate of the Spanish or Portuguese, where the
Crown had gained too much power through its new possessions.143
In the context of the EIC monopoly, it was not anti-imperialism
the Conservative accused their adversaries of, but rather too aggres-
sive an attitude towards the sovereignty of a foreign state. The EIC
supporters had constructed the image of a mighty, sovereign and at
least a half-civilised empire with a government and a population that
was averse to external trade. In addition, it was the complete other
in terms of its culture and character, so different that contact with it
could only be handled by experts, such as the EIC servants. Direct con-
tact with this peculiar and arrogant people would only endanger British
national honour and the orderly conduct of trade which was so impor-
tant for the welfare of the British Empire in India. In the Conservative
image of China, there was no industrious commercial-minded popula-
tion suppressed by its government. Nor did the idea of Tartar invaders
suppressing the Chinese play any significant role. While the supporters
of the end of a monopoly were quite open about the fact that they saw
the threat of force at least as the only way to deal with the Chinese, the
Conservatives argued against this. They argued that it would be contrary
to international law to enter into such an unprovoked war. Secondly, in
their image of China, the Chinese were not so weak that they might
not fight back, and thirdly, the Russians might profit most from such
an attempt by using the ensuing chaos to occupy parts of China in the
North.144 From this perspective, there was no reason why China should
open its gates to free trade, nor why it could be forced to do so. The
EIC, which had conquered India under various pretences which were
intended to legitimise their meddling in the affairs of Indian states, now
insisted on international law and the advisability of peace to safeguard
their last and most profitable trading monopoly.
When the question of the renewal of the EIC charter came before
the Houses of Parliament from 1829 onwards, it soon became clear that
those supporting the trade monopoly of the EIC had lost the battle over
the continuation of the monopoly as well as the meaning of China.
In February 1830, Select Committees of both Houses were appointed
to look into the question of ‘the affairs of the Company and the trade
between Great Britain and China’. All the way, the work of the Com-
mittees and the discussion in Parliament were clearly overshadowed by
the question of the Reform Bill.145 The first, separate report on the ques-
tion of the China trade, however, was already concluded in 1830. It
claimed to lay down impartially the results of the interviews with traders
and former EIC servants. Nevertheless, it already displayed a clear bias
towards ending the monopoly.146 In particular, the idea of the indus-
trious and commercial Chinese population had clearly found its way
from Southeast Asia to London. On the character of the Chinese it said
that they were ‘intelligent, industrious and persevering’. This character
mark was ‘strikingly manifested in the Chinese settler on the Eastern
islands, whose object in emigrating is the accumulation of wealth with
a view of returning into their own country, to which they have a strong
attachment.’147
The end of the monopoly for trade to China met with little resistance
during the parliamentary debate, even from George Staunton and Sir
Robert Inglis in the Commons or Lord Ellenborough in the Lords, and
was passed by the Lords in August 1833.148
The end of the EIC’s trading monopoly was a decisive turning point
in the way the British saw their relation with China in the sense that
the Crown was now immediately involved in the trade and diplomatic
relations with China. While the two embassies had failed to establish
a direct representative of the Crown in China, the government now

decided to do so unilaterally in Canton. Of course the Trade Commis-
sion was not yet a full-fledged diplomatic mission. Glenn Melancon has
argued that it was constructed with peaceful intentions to accommo-
date the Chinese and it was claimed that it was established due to the
wishes of the Viceroy of Canton.149 Nevertheless, it was to hold full
control over British subjects in China, including jurisdiction and the
right to levy duties.150 The establishment of a direct representative of the
British Crown with jurisdictional powers had not been negotiated with
the Chinese, because the British government was convinced after the
Amherst embassy that it would not be possible for diplomatic embassies
to China to be successful. Neither, however, did it choose to evade the
problems with the Chinese by re-locating the trade to an island outside
the Chinese Empire, as Staunton had suggested. The end of the EIC’s
commercial branch also had the effect of turning it into no more than a
mere administrative unit for the rule of India.151 Thus, it ended a special
early modern way to conduct trade and foreign policy outside Europe.
The British state took immediate control over its policy and representa-
tion in this region, forcing a British representative upon the Chinese, if
necessary.
Clearly, therefore, this diplomatic break cannot be seen as ‘China’s
entry into international relations’, as Greenberg has put it, but rather
it must be construed as a one sided attempt by the British to establish
relations under the terms they thought proper. The Macartney embassy
had opened the possibility to negotiate with China within a European
system of international relations, from sovereign to sovereign, while still
accepting the Chinese as an equal partner. The second embassy under
Lord Amherst had resulted in a significant damaging of the image of
the Chinese Emperor. In 1833, the British government tried to com-
plete its control over the British trading to China and thus Britain’s
China relation, ignoring the special circumstances in Canton which
would make it impossible for the new institution of Superintendency
to function without the use of British military power.152
This does not mean that the British government at this point had
already decided on a ‘forward policy’ which would lead to opening
China by military means. An open war in the Far East was considered to
be expensive and might have the undesirable effect of opening China
not just to the British but also to its rivals, including Russia.153 The
intense public debate about the end of the EIC monopoly, the fact that
there was now a representative of the British crown in Canton as well as
the opening of trade, however, did significantly increase the interest of
the British public in British relations with China. Over the course of the
next six years, new efforts were made to bring more knowledge about
China into the public sphere of the British Isles. The new publications
and attempts to collect information on China followed the pattern set
during the period discussed.
John Davis returned from Macao in 1835 because he felt that the
present system of superintendents was doomed to fail. In Britain, he
became one of the prominent ‘China-experts’, and in 1836, he pub-
lished a ‘General description of the empire of China’. Characteristically,
while his claim was to write a systematic history of China, which
could replace the works of Jesuits such as Du Halde’s, its main focus
is not China as such, but rather the history of its interaction with the
Europeans, especially the English. He deals with this in the first three
chapters and also in the more general discussion of Chinese geography,
customs and manners. The English experience at Canton and during the
two embassies is predominant.154
Equally, George Staunton continued to promote British study of
Chinese.155 His translation of the Chinese Penal Code also remained the
authoritative reference work for all negotiations with China.156 The mis-
sionaries in the periphery continued to play their role as mediators of
knowledge about China. Karl Gützlaff and William Medhurst both pub-
lished histories and descriptions of China. Like Davis, Medhurst focused
to a considerable extent on the history of the relationship between
Europeans and China.157 Gützlaff in contrast attempted a historical, geo-
graphical and ethnographical description of China that was more or
less only focused on China itself. Nevertheless his book was also clearly
supposed to provide the British public with knowledge about China
which could then form the basis for their judgement about the neces-
sity and form of further interaction with that empire.158 His accounts
also re-introduced the image of the deceitful, debased Chinese opium
smoker.159 More prominent, however, especially in his later works is still
the idea of the commercially inclined and industrious Chinese.160
The ‘opening up’ of China was now the next step on the agenda
of those who had worked for the repeal of the EIC monopoly. This
became even more important since the opening of trade had increased
and diversified the British economic investment in trade to China.161
With the end of the EIC monopoly an internal goal for a campaign
for changed trading conditions had disappeared. The only remaining
factor was the Chinese government itself, which, according to the con-
sensus after the Amherst embassy, could not be approached by way of
diplomatic means.
News about the surrender of opium to Commissioner Lin reached

the London Newspapers in August 1839.162 The country merchants and
those who had similar aims in Britain saw their opportunity to press for
a military engagement by the British state. Melancon has shown how
this coincided with interests mainly resulting from British internal poli-
tics which in the end led to the decision by Palmerston to go to war with
China.163 The alliance which had been formed to lobby for the repeal of
the EIC charter between the country merchants in Asia and the man-
ufacturing and trading interest in Manchester and Liverpool was now
used to press for a military solution to the conflict at Canton.164 The
debate in favour or against the Opium War centred on the question of
its legality and its morality, focusing on the question of whether the
opium trade in itself was immoral.165 It also put the question of British
honour into the foreground once more. In this context, the govern-
ment and the parliamentary opposition argued as to whether a war
would reinstate Britain’s honour or rather further undermine it.166 It
thus emphasised certain aspects of ideas about China which had already
been discussed during the debate in 1834 and before that in Canton. The
notion that international law was not applicable to China since it itself
did not act according to it became even more important.167 In this con-
text, the British opium merchants and their supporters emphasised that
the Chinese had tolerated the opium trade for years. Their attempt to
finally suppress it was therefore portrayed as a treacherous and hyp-
ocritical act, showing the degraded nature of the Chinese culture as
such.168 Also the military weakness of the Chinese, an idea that had
found its way into the metropolitan debate via the Macartney embassy
and the reports about the conflicts in Canton, was now crucial.169 More
than everything else, however, the actions of Commissioner Lin were
described as an attack on British honour and its position in the world.170
Succumbing to his actions might, according to George Staunton, even
endanger Britain’s Indian Empire.171
At the same time, missionary influence meant that the morality of
the opium trade was increasingly discussed, even before the crisis in
1839. Walter Medhurst decried the destructive effects of the drug on the
Chinese population. He drew his information from his experience in
Southeast Asia and one trip up the China coast and vividly described
the harm inflicted by opium on the Chinese.172
In A. S. Thelwall’s publication, we can see evangelical zeal combined
with the interests of those merchants unhappy with the competition
in the China trade through the opium smugglers. He described the
destructive effects of the drug strongly.173 The main thrust of his pub-
lication was to reach a parliamentary decision against the British opium
trade, arguing that this decision would open China for the trade with
other British goods. Like others connected to the evangelical cause he
was afraid that the association of the opium trade with Christian Britons
would bring the Christian cause into disrepute with the Chinese.174
The missionary environment and their supporters thus re-emphasised
the image of a population that had to be saved by the British and that
was no longer capable of doing so of its own accord. Medhurst and oth-
ers drew parallels with the abolition of slavery to mobilise their fellow
countrymen against the opium trade.175 The Chinese population was
portrayed as mentally weak, undisciplined and craving for sensational
satisfaction in this context, ready to succumb to the pleasures of opium,
victimised by the opium trader.176 Far from the idea of the industrious
worker, the Chinese and China were described as declining in produc-
tivity, turning into a failing country.177 China and opium abuse with
its dangers to the stability of society became synonyms in these years,
which would become even stronger throughout the Victorian period.178
Despite the evangelical disapproval of the opium trade, the war that fol-
lowed was not unwanted by them and the missionaries lobbied hard to
gain advantages for their mission from the peace settlement.179 In addi-
tion to this, the missionary discourse on China in the context of opium
created the image of a population in need of British help, which was
unable to morally improve itself.
Those in favour of the war claimed that opium had no more harmful
effects than gin in Britain and that the Chinese were well able to decide
for themselves whether or not they wanted to use the drug.180 Others
accepted the destructive effects of the opium use and the problem-
atic nature of the opium trade but thought that the war was necessary
nevertheless to defend national honour.181
Next to the growing importance of the question of the morality of
the opium trade, the opponents of the war used similar arguments to
those in 1834, emphasising the sovereignty of the Chinese empire and
its right to regulate trade as it saw fit, while condemning the illegality of
the opium smuggle.182 The supporters of the EIC saw the crises as proof
that the new system had failed, while at the same time justifying the
continued revenue from Opium farming in India.183 The debate about
the Opium War therefore served as one of the last bastions in their fight
against the free traders. In this context the Chinese served as a positive
counter-image to the free traders and Palmerston’s superintendents:
Throughout their while proceedings, the local authorities, and espe-

cially the Imperial Commissioner, have, in the execution of a very
difficult measure, evinced a combination of firmness, gentleness, and
straightforwardness, which offers a mortifying contrast to the vacil-

lation, intimidation, and hesitation, which have marked the conduct
of the British Superintendent from first to last.184
As we have seen, this was a position that did no longer exist amongst
the British in Canton, who had prepared a more aggressive policy
throughout the 1830s.
As in 1833, the conservative forces supporting the rights of the
Chinese Empire as a sovereign country against the free traders lost
the battle for public opinion as well as the vote in parliament. Com-
missioner Lin had allegedly insulted an officer of the British crown,
and destroyed British Crown property. As Melancon has described, the
Melbourne government finally decided to send troops to China to avoid
the accusation that they watched passively while British honour and
property was attacked by the arrogant Chinese.185
In the decades after the Macartney embassy, the meanings of China
formed in the contact zones in Asia had become prominent at home.
They shaped the ideas of British society and politics from the embassy
to the Opium War and beyond. The idea of China in the metropolis
became divided. On the one hand, it was perceived as a metaphor for
entertainment, luxury and excess, on the other, as a central element in
the economic and power system of the British Empire. The genealogy
of knowledge about China in the metropolis was fundamentally inter-
linked with the British imperial expansion in the East. A separate set of
knowledge in the academic context, as on the European continent, did
not develop. China therefore became intrinsically associated with India
and British expansion in the mind of many Britons.
With the monopoly debate of 1834 the knowledge of China formed
in the peripheral contact zones became for the first time prominent in
British parliamentary debates and the accompanying public discussion
in Britain itself. China, once mainly being associated with entertain-
ment, leisure and utopian ideas was now firmly established as a political
and economic interest for Britain and the trade in opium. The position
of a Superintendent, appointed by the British Crown itself, established
a permanent direct political relationship on the British side with China,
which also made the idea of a violation of British honour by the Chinese
conceivable in London. Even if the government had no wish in 1834 to
push for an opening of China with military means and thus potentially
to disturb the status quo, a war with China had become imaginable
in the metropolis as well. The massive publication activity of those
who returned from Asia to Britain in the years after 1834 meant that
the idea ‘to open China’ gained a strong position in the British public
sphere. The debate, which had started with the goal of abolishing the
EIC monopoly on the tea trade, therefore did not stop in 1834; rather it
only slightly changed its target until it found a new reference point in
the opium trade crisis of 1839.
The economic importance of the China trade for the British Empire,
both opium and tea certainly cannot be overemphasised and it is
unlikely that the British government would have passively witnessed its
long term suppression. Palmerston might not have wished for another
expansive war, but at the same time he was also adamant that the
Chinese Empire would at last have to accept British power in the world,
expressed in the person of the Chief Superintendent. The contemporary
discussion about the motives for war, however, shows how difficult it
was for the government to justify military action in order to provide
protection for an illegal traffic in drugs. Only the dramatic change of
the British image of China in the metropolis, based on what was seen as
the new knowledge about China which had been formed in the episte-
mological framework of the British imperial expansion, made it possible
to declare war on this former model of civilisation, the mythical Cathay.
6
Epilogue
The first British–Chinese War ended with the Treaty of Nanjing in 1842.
The Qing Emperor had to pay to the British compensation for the war
costs and for the destroyed opium. The Hong system was to be abol-
ished, five ports opened to the British merchants and Hong Kong to
be ceded to the British Empire.1 The treaty also insisted on the equality
between officers of the British Queen and those of the Chinese Empire. It
even stipulated exactly in which form the British officers and merchants
were allowed to address their Chinese counterparts. Never again should
Britons be humiliated by Chinese officials demanding ‘petitions’.2
The webs of empire were prominent in the set up of the first British
colony on Chinese soil. The instructions for the governor of new Crown
Colony were adapted from those for New Zealand.3 A central ques-
tion in the early discussion about the establishment of Hong Kong
was how to treat the Queen’s new Chinese subjects. The Chinese nego-
tiators tried to achieve that all Chinese subjects should remain under
Chinese jurisdiction. It was a concept that was not wholly foreign to
the British. Raffles, after all, had first given the Chinese in Singapore
the right to live under Chinese jurisdiction. In the end, however, this
had been changed and the Straits Settlements as well as the Chinese
diaspora population in Mauritius now served as examples for Chinese
allegedly living happily under British laws.4 After a prolonged debate
with the Chinese negotiators and between Henry Pottinger and London,
no mention of administration of Chinese law in Hong Kong by Chinese
officials was made in the Supplementary Treaty of the Bogue in October
1843, as the British feared that this would undermine their sovereignty
in Hong Kong.5 However, the ordinance developed by John Davis,
who became governor of Hong Kong in 1844, allowed punishment of
Chinese criminals according to the laws of China, but by British courts.
188
Epilogue 189
He justified this by pointing to the special cultural circumstance of the

new colony, where so many inhabitants came from mainland China.6
Questions, which had in a similar manner been debated in the con-
text of the Straits Settlements, thus surfaced again in the context of
Hong Kong. John Davis even described Singapore as the ‘prototype’ for
Hong Kong, not only as a free port, but also because it was populated
mainly by Chinese.7 Part of this legacy was to treat the Chinese as use-
ful workers. However, they had to be closely watched and would only
really understand the language of their own culture when it came to
punishment.
Hong Kong became a new ‘contact zone’ between Chinese and British,
in which British ideas and knowledge about China were formed, as well
as slowly evolving into a new centre for the opium trade.8 Access to the
treaty ports and possession of some parts of Chinese soil meant that the
British could now consider China ‘opened’. The British believed that
they could define how the Chinese had to interact with European pow-
ers and that they could impose their image of China on them. Hong
Kong therefore attracted all those who had eagerly been waiting in
front of the closed gates, bring with them the connections of the British
imperial expansion.
The Anglo-Chinese College moved to the new British possession in
1843. The original plan was to reorganise the College substantially and
to add a preparatory school.9 When the new British government did not
give sufficient funds, it was transformed into the Hong Kong theological
seminar. It was led by James Legge, who had come to Hong Kong from
Malacca and who would later become the first professor for Chinese at
the University of Oxford.10 In addition to this, the missionary society
set up branches in the various treaty ports. The first British governor, Sir
Henry Pottinger granted money to the Morrison Education Society with
the aim to educate the personnel needed for the new colony.11 Other
elements of a colonial society, such as a botanical garden, were soon
established. As soon as possible those connected with the new British
presence in China ventured into the interior of the land to gather more
information about this ‘peculiar’ country. As Fa-ti Fan has described,
the new power relations and ‘contact zones’ soon changed the way the
British formed scientific knowledge about China.12
From the late 18th century onwards, the British have to be thought
of as people, whose intellectual and cultural developments can only
be understood in the context of its imperial expansion and the global
spread of the British people. The epistemology shaped during the British
imperial expansion in the East was distributed through the networks of
those involved in British strategic, economic and missionary interests

in the region and adapted to the use in relation to other Asian cultures.
It had seemingly become impossible for the British to think of and to
describe the Chinese culture, language, religion or its political entity in
a different context.
The cultural and intellectual history of British–Chinese relations
emerged therefore from the 1760s within a field of British Asian inter-
ests. It produced an image of the Chinese as either willing subjects of the
British Empire or as an obstacle to progress. Knowledge of Chinese lan-
guage, law and religion was formed to enable British influence on China,
and ultimately, to justify the use of force against the Chinese. The ques-
tion was no longer how China could serve as a model for Britain but
rather how it fitted into British expansionist interests, militarily, cul-
turally and economically. As a result, China and the Chinese had been
incorporated into the mental map of the British expansion in a variety
of ways long before the Opium War.
In this period, the meanings of China for the British developed in the
different ‘contact zones’ in Bengal, Southeast Asia, Canton and Britain
in which the British encountered the Chinese Empire, the Chinese peo-
ple, or their goods. While the intellectual developments in Britain or
Europe clearly had an influence in these ‘contact zones’, the encoun-
ters with specific groups of Chinese and the power relations on the spot
were just as important. The process by which the Chinese were assigned
a specific position in the British world view was no simple one-way flow
of ideas from the metropolis to the periphery. Knowledge created in
the context of discovery and colonial rule found its way back to Britain,
where it influenced theories about the nature of mankind, which in turn
shaped the perception of those who went to China and Southeast Asia.
India was at the centre of British Asian interests. It had an influence
on British understanding of China in several ways. For Lord Macartney,
his encounter with the Indian situation shaped his political assessment
of China. The conquest of Singapore and other parts of Southeast Asia
grew directly out of the British bridgehead in Bengal and Madras. In a
different way the relatively close British military presence in India meant
that the Britons in Canton felt they could present themselves with more
self-confidence. For the study of Chinese language and the education
of the Chinese, ideas formed in India, in the context of the College
of Fort William for example, could be as influential as those coming
directly from the metropolis. Particularly in the field of education, expe-
rience in India often served as a model for missionary activities in
Southeast Asia.
Epilogue 191
There was however never a unifying ‘Orientalism’, which equated all

Asian countries. Ideas about China remained strongly indebted to the
heritage of enlightenment thinking about China and influenced by the
Jesuit reports. Thus the meanings of China had quite a different intel-
lectual genealogy from those, for example, of the Middle East. China
remained singled out as an ancient and high civilisation that might
have been comparable to European ones, but which now had lost its
momentum.
By separating the zones in which knowledge about China was pro-
duced and used it becomes evident that it was only within a European
sphere of communication that the British could develop the idea of a
China they could study, influence or even rule. In the context of South-
east Asia, it became easier to see themselves as masters over the Chinese,
and as possessing knowledge of their culture and language than in
Canton, but even here the resistance of the Chinese, for example, to
accept the European education system unmodified and the multitude
of their dialects and secret societies led to the feeling that the British
were excluded from information vital for their security and interests. An
unchallenged ‘Orientalism’ could and did therefore only exist within
Europe itself.
The study of the different interactions of the Britons in the various
‘contact zones’ has also highlighted the importance of the British self-
image and its acceptance by other people during the Britain’s imperial
expansion. This was especially true with regard to China. Its former posi-
tion as an equal or superior civilisation made it impossible simply to
ignore Chinese ideas about the British. By establishing the right image
of themselves the British hoped to influence this power without using
military means and to ascertain their identity. The image could differ,
however according to the circumstances. In the context of the British
expansion of power from Bengal, China was seen as a mighty power, a
war with which would be potentially costly and a high risk. Accordingly,
the British tried to present themselves to the Chinese in Tibet and Nepal
as a great, but peaceful power, emphasising the idea that they only led
wars to defend themselves. A similar self-image was presented to the
Chinese Emperor in the Macartney and Amherst embassies. However,
the EIC and the country merchants in Canton hoped to convince the
Chinese government that Britain was a great power with superior mil-
itary means, which would protect its citizens under all circumstances.
This found its expression in rejecting the use of the word ‘yi’ in official
documents as well as calling for warships if British honour was deemed
to have been violated. The idea of Britain as a great Asian power thus
became a crucial element of British identity in the East, evolving during

this period with the growing influence of the British in India and their
military victories against Indian and French enemies.
At the same time, British identity was defined in contrast to the
Chinese. While the Chinese were seen to be as crafty and industrious as
any good Briton, they were considered to lack the moral aptitude which
would have made Chinese rule positive for the people of Southeast Asia.
Here, a Briton, who through superior knowledge and his high moral
standard improved the lot of the native population, was clearly con-
trasted with the Chinese, who had almost equal possibilities but only
worked for self-gain.
In each of these ‘contact zones’ the British thus developed differ-
ing ideas of what it meant to be British, depending on the ‘Other’
they found themselves confronted with and the influence of the British
presence in the region. However, the view of Britain as a strong, mil-
itarily victorious and just ruling power in India became central to the
idea of Britishness in Asia, even if it was emphasised in differing ways.
Those Britons who returned to Britain, often after having lived abroad
half their lives, brought home with them the meanings not only of
Britishness formed in Asia, but also their networks, knowledge and inter-
ests. The second British Empire therefore created a knowledge of China
which spanned the different points of British imperial interest in Asia
and moved it away from the knowledge structures created by its French
and German contemporaries.
Notes
1 Introduction
1. See: D. E. Mungello, Curious Land: Jesuit Accommodation and the Origins of
Sinology (Stuttgart, 1985); D. M. Jones, The Image of China in Western Social
and Political Thought (New York, 2001), pp. 14–28; on the early modern con-
tact between Europe and China and the Jesuit mission see also: J. D. Spence,
Chinese Roundabout. Essays in History and Culture (New York, London, 1992),
pp. 11–49, 78–84; J. D. Spence, The China Helpers. Western Advisers in China
1620–1960 (London, Sydney, 1969), pp. 3–33; J. D. Spence, The Memory
Palace of Matteo Ricci (London, Boston, 1985).
2. D. Porter, Ideographia. The Chinese Cipher in Early Modern Europe (Stanford,
2001), pp. 3–9, 34–132.
3. On Chinoiserie see: W. W. Appelton, A Cycle of Cathay. The Chinese Vogue
in England During the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries (New York, 1951);
H. Honour, Chinoiserie: The Vision of Cathay (London, 1961), pp. 90–120;
Porter, Ideographia, pp. 133–193.
4. L. Dermigny, La Chine et l’occident. La commerce a Canton au XVIIIe siecle,
1719–1833 (4 vols., Paris, 1964), Vol. I, p. 19.
5. R. Markley, The Far East and the English Imagination, 1600–1730 (Cambridge,
2006), pp. 4, 30–136.
6. P. A. Van Dyke, The Canton Trade. Life and Enterprise on the China Coast, 1700–
1845 (Hong Kong, 2005), p. 5.
7. M. Greenberg, British Trade and the Opening of China, 1800–42 (Cambridge,
1951), p. 3.
8. Dermigny, La Chine, Vol. III, pp. 931–934; H. V. Bowen, The Business of
Empire. The East India Company and Imperial Britain, 1756–1833 (Cambridge,
2006), pp. 241–246.
9. See: H. V. Bowen, ‘Tea, Tribute and the East India Company, c. 1750–
1775’, in S. Taylor, R. Connors and C. Jones (eds.), Hanoverian Britain and
Empire. Essays in Memory of Philip Lawson (Woodbridge, 1998), pp. 158–
177; R. Connors, ‘Opium and Imperial Expansion: The East India Company
in Eighteenth-Century Asia’, in S. Taylor, R. Connors and C. Jones (eds.),
Hanoverian Britain and Empire, Essays in Memory of Philip Lawson (Wood-
bridge, 1998), pp. 248–267; Bowen, Business of Empire, pp. 222–234. See also
for an overview: G. Blue, ‘Opium for China: The British Connection’, in
T. Brook and B. T. Wakabayashi (eds.), Opium Regimes. China, Britain, and
Japan, 1839–1952 (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London, 2000), pp. 31–54, esp.
pp. 32–36.
10. E. H. Pritchard, The Crucial Years of Early Anglo-Chinese Relations, 1750–1800
(Washington, 2000), pp. 121–141. See also for a detailed account, also of the
flexibility of the system: Van Dyke, Canton Trade, pp. 5–33.
11. Greenberg, British Trade, pp. 10–12, 26–27.
193
194 Notes
12. Bowen, Business of Empire, pp. 222–234.

13. This is also true for Morse’s book on the history of the international rela-
tions of China and the west: H. B. Morse, International Relations of the Chinese
Empire (London, 1910–1918), pp. 41–117, see also: J. B. Eames, The English in
China (London, 1909), pp. 584–585, which was mainly written as a guide for
further British policy towards China at the time.
14. G. Graham, The China Station: War and Diplomacy, 1830–1860 (Oxford,
1978), pp. 12–64.
15. P. W. Fay, The Opium War, 1840–1842 (New York and London, 1975),
pp. 2–98; H.-P. Chang, Commissioner Lin and the Opium War (Cambridge,
1964), pp. 1–62; T. Chung, China and the Brave New World. Study of the Ori-
gins of the Opium War (Durham, NC, 1978); B. Inglis, The Opium War (London
et al., 1976), pp. 15–76; M. Collis, Foreign Mud: Being an Account of the Opium
Imbroglio at Canton in the 1830’s & the Anglo-Chinese War that Followed (New
York, 1947), pp. 9–88; J. K. Fairbank, Trade and Diplomacy on the China Coast:
The Opening of the Treaty Ports: 1842–54 (Cambridge, MA, 1953), pp. 57–73.
16. Greenberg, British Trade.
17. H. B. Morse, Chronicles of the East India Company Trading to China 1635–1834
(Oxford, 1929).
18. Pritchard, Crucial Years, pp. 111, 118.
19. Dermigny, La Chine.
20. See for example: Chang, Commissioner Lin and the Opium War, pp. 1–12.
21. G. Melancon, ‘Honor in Opium? The British declaration of War on China,
1835–1840’, International History Review, 21, 4 (1999), pp. 854–874; G. Melan-
con, ‘Peaceful intentions. The First British Trade Commission in China
1833–5’, Historical Research, 72, 180 (2000), pp. 33–47; G. Melancon, Britain’s
China Policy and the Opium Crisis. Balancing Drugs, Violence and National
Honour, 1833–1840 (Aldershot, 2003).
22. Compare especially W. R. Berger, China-Bild und China-Mode im Europa der
Aufklärung (Köln, 1990); A. Hsia, Chinesia: The European Construction of China
in the Literature of the 17th and 18th Centuries (Tübingen, 1998); G. Blue,
‘China and Western Social Thought in the Modern Period’, in T. Brook
and G. Blue (eds.), China and Historical Capitalism. Genealogies of Sinological
Knowledge (Cambridge, 1999), pp. 57–110; J. Ching and W. Oxtoby (eds.),
Discovering China. European Interpretations in the Enlightenment (Library of
the History of ideas, Vol. VII, Rochester, 1992); J. D. Spence, The Chan’s
Great Continent (London, 1998), pp. 92–100; W. Demel, Als Fremde in China
(München, 1992); S. Zhang, ‘British Views on China During the Time of the
Embassies of Lord Macartney and Lord Amherst (1790–1820)’, PhD thesis
(Birkbeck College, University of London, 1990); R. Ballaster, Fabulous Ori-
ents. Fictions of the East in England 1662–1785 (Oxford, 2005), pp. 193–252.
For Asia in total see: J. Osterhammel, Die Entzauberung Asiens (München,
1998).
23. R. S. Dawson, The Chinese Chameleon – An Analysis of European Conceptions of
Chinese Civilization (London, 1967), pp. 132–154 mainly focuses on the later
period of the mission in China; Blue, ‘China and Western Social Thought’,
p. 72.
24. C. Mackerras, Western Images of China (2nd edn., Oxford, New York, 1999),
pp. 39–58.
Notes 195
25. Appelton, Cycle of Cathay, p. 140; see also: Dawson, Chinese Chameleon,
p. 132.
26. Appelton, Cycle of Cathay, pp. 169–170.
27. Spence, The Chan’s Great Continent, pp. 51–61.
28. W. Demel, ‘Europäisches Überlegenheitsgefühl und die Entdeckung Chinas.
Ein Beitrag zur Frage der Rückwirkung der europäischen Expansion auf
Europa’, in T. Beck, A. Menninger and T. Schleich (eds.), Kolumbus’ Erben.
Europäische Expansion und überseeische Ethnien im Ersten Kolonialzeitalter,
1415–1815 (Darmstadt, 1992), pp. 99–145, esp. pp. 114–116.
29. Spence, The Chan’s Great Continent, pp. 41–80.
30. P. J. Marshall and G. Williams, The Great Map of Mankind (London, 1982),
pp. 67–74, esp. pp. 91–94.
31. Porter, Ideographia.
32. N. J. Girardot, The Victorian Translation of China. James Legge’s Oriental
Pilgrimage (Berkeley et al., 2002).
33. C. A. Bayly, The Birth of the Modern World, 1780–1914. Global Connection and
Comparison (Oxford et al., 2004).
34. T. Harper, ‘Empire, Diaspora and the Languages of Globalism, 1850–1914’,
in A. G. Hopkins (ed.), Globalization in World History (New York, 2002),
pp. 141–166; see the volume in general for a new approach by historians
to globalisation: A. G. Hopkins (ed.), Globalization in World History (London,
2002).
35. K. Wilson (ed.), A New Imperial History. Culture, Identity and Modernity in
Britain and the Empire, 1660–1840 (Cambridge, 2004); C. Hall (ed.), Cultures
of Empire. Colonizers in Britain and the Empire in the Nineteenth and Twentieth
Centuries. A Reader (Manchester, 2000); D. Kennedy, ‘Imperial History and
Post-Colonial Theory’, Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, 24, 3
(1996), pp. 345–363.
36. T. Ballantyne, Orientalism and Race. Aryanism in the British Empire
(Basingstoke, New York, 2002).
37. A. Lester, Imperial Networks. Creating Identities in Nineteenth-Century South
Africa and Britain (London, New York, 2001), p. 5.
38. C. Hall, ‘Histories, Empires and the Post-Colonial Moment’, in I. Cham-
bers and L. Curti (eds.), The Post-Colonial Question. Common Skies, Divided
Horizons (London, New York, 1996), pp. 65–78, esp. pp. 70–76; see also on
the importance of different spaces and places in the empire: M. Ogborn
and C. W. J. Withers (eds.), Georgian Geographies. Essays on Space, Place and
Landscape in the Eighteenth Century (Manchester, 2004).
39. P. Howell and D. Lambert, ‘Sir John Pope Hennessy and Colonial Gov-
ernment: Humanitarianism and the Translation of Slavery in the Imperial
Network’, in D. Lambert and A. Lester (eds.), Colonial Lives Across the British
Empire: Imperial Careering in the Long Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, 2006),
pp. 228–257; L. Brown, ‘Inter-Colonial Migration and the Refashioning of
Indentured Labour: Arthur Gordon in Trinidad, Mauritius and Fiji (1866–
1880)’, in D. Lambert and A. Lester (eds.), Colonial Lives Across the British
pp. 204–227; Z. Laidlaw, ‘Richard Bourke: Irish Liberalism Tempered by
Empire’, in D. Lambert and A. Lester (eds.), Colonial Lives Across the British
196 Notes

pp. 113–144.
40. P. D. Morgan, ‘Encounters Between British and “Indigenous” Peoples,
c. 1500–c. 1800’, in M. Daunton and R. Halpern (eds.), Empire and Oth-
ers: British Encounters with Indigenous Peoples, 1600–1850 (London, 1999),
pp. 42–78, esp. pp. 56–62.
41. T. R. Metcalf, Imperial Connections. India in the Indian Ocean Arena, 1860–1920
Copyright material from www.palgraveconnect.com - licensed to University of MN Twin Cities - PalgraveConnect - 2011-04-22
(Berkeley et al., 2007), esp. pp. 1–15.
42. C. Hall, Civilising Subjects. Metropole and Colony in the English Imagina-
tion, 1830–1867 (Cambridge, 2002), see also: K. Wilson, The Island Race.
Englishness, Empire and Gender in the Eighteenth Century (London, New York,
2003).
43. F. Cooper and A. L. Stoler, ‘Between Metropole and Colony: Rethinking a
Research Agenda’, in F. Cooper and A. L. Stoler (eds.), Tensions of Empire.
Colonial Cultures in a Bourgeois World (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London, 1997),
pp. 1–58.
44. H. Kaelble (ed.), Vergleich und Transfer. Komperatistik in den Sozial-, Geschichts-
und Kulturwissenschaften (Frankfurt, 2003), esp. pp. 369–468.
45. M. Werner and B. Zimmermann, ‘Vergleich, Transfer, Verflechtung. Der
Ansatz der Histoire croisée und die Herausforderung des Transnationalen’,
Geschichte und Gesellschaft, 28 (2002), pp. 607–636.
46. H. Saussy, Great Walls of Discourse and Other Adventures in Cultural China
(Cambridge, MA, London, 2001), esp. pp. 1–15, 15–34.
47. E. Said, Orientalism. Western Conceptions of the Orient (4th edn., London,
1995).
48. See on this also: Girardot, Victorian Translation, pp. 14–15.
49. H. Hägerdal, ‘The Orientalism Debate and the Chinese Wall: An
Essay on Said and Sinology’, Itinerario, 21, 3 (1997), pp. 19–40, esp.
p. 27.
50. Jones, Image of China, esp. pp. 1–14, 37–64, 67–96.
51. E. F. Irschick, Dialogue and History. Constructing South India, 1795–1895
(Berkeley a. o., 1994).
52. H. Bhabha, The Location of Culture (London, 2004), esp. pp. 102–122.
53. C. A. Bayly, Empire and Information: Intelligence Gathering and Social Commu-
nication in India 1780–1870 (Cambridge, 1996).
54. C. Windler, La diplomatie comme expérience de l’autre. Consuls francais au
Maghreb (1700–1840) (Genève, 2002), pp. 30–31.
55. M. S. Dodson, ‘Orientalism, Sanskrit Scholarship, and Education in
Colonial India, ca. 1775–1875’, PhD thesis (University of Cambridge, 2003),
pp. 25–26; M. S. Dodson, Orientalism, Empire, and National Culture. India
1770–1880 (Basingstoke, 2007).
56. B. Latour, Reassembling the Social. An Introduction to Actor-Network-Theory
(Oxford, 2005); B. Latour, Science in Action. How to Follow Scientists and
Engineers Through Society (Cambridge, MA, 1987).
57. For further reflections on the importance of location for the production
of knowledge see: P. Burke, A Social History of Knowledge. From Gutenberg to
Diderot (Cambridge, 2000), pp. 53–80.
58. M. L. Pratt, Imperial Eyes: Travel Writing and Transculturation (New York,
1992).
59. Wilson, Island Race, p. 4.
10.1057/9780230246751 - Asian Empire and British Knowledge, Ulrike Hillemann

Notes 197
2 The Decline of Mythical China

1. See: L. M. Brockey, Journey to the East. The Jesuit Mission to China, 1579–1724
(Cambridge, MA; London, 2007).
2. See on the question of translation of culture: Saussy, Great Walls of Discourse,
pp. 15–34.
3. See on the early period of information transfer through the Jesuits and the
Jesuit mission: Mungello, Curious Land: Jesuit Accommodation and the Ori-
gins of Sinology; Berger, China-Bild, esp. pp. 52–85; Spence, The Chan’s Great
Continent, pp. 83–88, 95–99; Spence, Memory Palace. See also for the British
context, how China could be imagined as a positive model: R. Batchelor,
‘Concealing the Bounds: Imagining the British Nation Through China’, in
F. A. Nussbaum (ed.), The Global Eighteenth Century (Baltimore, London,
2003), pp. 79–92.
4. On the natural world see R. Drayton, Nature’s Government. Science, Impe-
rial Britain, and the ‘Improvement’ of the World (New Haven, London, 2000),
pp. 67–78; Marshall and Williams, Map of Mankind, pp. 85, 91–94, 175–176.
5. A. Smith, An Inquiry into the Nature and Causes of the Wealth of Nations (2 vols.,
London, 1776), Vol. II, Book IV, pp. 279–280.
6. See on this issue: C. A. Bayly, Imperial Meridian: The British Empire
and the World, 1788–1830 (London, 1989); Drayton, Nature’s Government,
pp. 69, 85–94.
7. H. Home, Lord Kames, The Gentleman Farmer Being an Attempt to Improve
Agriculture, by Subjecting It to the Test of Rational Principles (Edinburgh, 1776),
p. xiv.
8. On the idea of progress in the enlightenment and its influence on the idea
of language see: D. Spadafora, The Idea of Progress in Eighteenth-Century Britain
(New Haven, London, 1990).
9. For the ideas about Chinese language in the 17th and early 18th century
see: Porter, Ideographia, pp. 34–49; J. Knowlson, Universal Language Schemes
in England and France 1600–1800 (Toronto, Buffalo, 1975), pp. 23–27.
10. Porter, Ideographia, pp. 133–192. While Porter makes some interesting inter-
pretations of the phenomenon of Chinoiserie, he does not convincingly
prove why the associations with Chinoiserie should give a better explana-
tion of the decreasing evaluation of Chinese than a study of the change of
the epistemology at the time.
11. Knowlson, Universal Language, pp. 143–149. Only in this context the idea of
a universal language, derived from a common primitive one, found some
supporters.
12. U. Ricken, Sprachtheorie und Weltanschauung in der europäischen Aufklärung
zur Geschichte der Sprachtheorie des 18. Jahrhunderts und ihrer europäischen
Rezeption nach der Französischen Revolution (Berlin, 1990), p. 22.
13. See: H. Aarsleff, The Study of Language in England, 1780–1860 (Minneapolis,
London, 1983), pp. 17–24.
14. J. Harris, Hermes, or a Philosophical Inquiry Concerning Language and Universal
Grammar (London, 1751), pp. 372, 407–425. See also: Ricken, Sprachtheorie,
pp. 41–42.
15. The search for an universal language continued however also at the end of
the 18th century, esp. during the French Revolution: Knowlson, Universal
Language, pp. 143–209.
198 Notes
16. W. Warburton, The Divine Legation of Moses Demonstrated. In Nine Books (4th
edn., 3 vols., London, 1765), Vol. III, p. 91.
17. T. Percy, Miscellaneous Pieces Relating to the Chinese (London, 1762), p. 11.
18. Ricken, Sprachtheorie, p. 44.
19. L. Monboddo, Of the Origin and Progress of Language (2 vols., Edinburgh,
1774), Vol. II, pp. 5–6, 20–21.
20. Ricken, Sprachtheorie, pp. 43–44; Monboddo, Origin, pp. 86–93.
21. Monboddo, Origin, Vol. II, p. 426.
22. See W. P. Klein, ‘Die linguistische Erfassung des Hebräischen, Chinesis-
chen und Finnischen am Beginn der Neuzeit. Eine vergleichende Studie
zur frühen Rezeption nicht-indogermanischer Sprachen in der traditionellen
Grammatik’, Historiographia Linguistica, 28, 1/2(2001), pp. 7–39, 53–54.
23. Monboddo, Origin, Vol. II, pp. 438–439.
24. Ibid., pp. 434–439.
25. Percy, Miscellaneous Pieces, p. 10.
26. See also: A. Gerbi, The Dispute of the New World. The History of a Polemic,
1750–1900 (rev. and enl. edn., Pittsburgh, 1973), p. 152.
27. A. Appadurai, The Social Life of Things: Commodities in Cultural Perspective
(Cambridge, 1986), esp. pp. 3–63.
28. Maxine Berg has argued that the creation of a consumer market in novelty
goods through Asian trade stimulated European invention and thus aided
the industrial revolution: M. Berg, ‘In Pursuit of Luxury: Global History and
British Consumer Goods in the Eighteenth Century’, Past and Present, 182
(2004), pp. 85–142; CLXXXII (2004), pp. 85–142, esp. pp. 99–132.
29. O. Goldsmith, The Citizen of the World; or Letters from a Chinese Philosopher
Residing in London, to His Friends in the East (2 vols., Dublin, 1762), Vol. I,
p. 56.
30. Honour, Chinoiserie, pp. 68–82.
31. On English Rococo Chinoiserie see: Ibid., pp. 125–143.
32. See for example the title of the design books: W. Halfpenny, New Designs
for Chinese Temples, Triumphal Arches, Garden Seats, Palings etc (London,
1750); W. Halfpenny, Rural Architecture in the Chinese Taste (London, 1752);
W. Halfpenny and J. Halfpenny, Chinese and Gothic Architecture Properly
Ornamented (London, 1752); T. Chippendale, The Gentleman and Cabinet-
Maker’s Director (London, 1755); S. W. Chambers, Designs of Chinese Buildings,
Furniture, Dresses, Machines and Utensils (London, 1757); P. Decker, Chinese
Architecture, Civil and Ornamental (Farnborough, Gregg, 1968). See also:
Porter, Ideographia, p. 141.
33. Honour, Chinoiserie, pp. 153, 155.
34. J. Cawthorn, ‘Of Taste’, Poems (London, 1771), pp. 110–118, esp. p. 115.
35. Porter, Ideographia, pp. 134–135.
36. J. Pillement, The Ladies Amusement or Whole Art of Japanning Made Easy. Illus-
trated in Upwards Fifteen Hundred Different Designs . . . Consisting of Flowers,
Shells, Figures, Birds, Insects, Landscapes, Shipping, Beasts, Vases, Borders, etc.
(Facsimile edn., London, 1959), p. 4; Porter, Ideographia, pp. 139, 171.
37. Chambers, Designs, p. 15.
38. S. W. Chambers, A Dissertation on Oriental Gardening (Dublin, 1773), p. 63.
39. See also on the distinctive foreignness Chambers evokes: Porter, Ideographia,
pp. 174–181.
Notes 199
40. W. Mason, An Heroic Epistle to Sir William Chambers, Author of a Late

Dissertation on Oriental Gardening (London, 1773), p. 16.
41. See also: I. Chase, ‘William Mason and Sir William Chambers’ Dissertation
on Oriental Gardening’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology, 35 (1936),
pp. 517–529, esp. p. 528f.
42. The World, XXVI (28 June 1753), quoted in: Porter, Ideographia, p. 171.
43. On 18th century ideas on taste see: J. Brewer, The Pleasures of the Imagination.
English Culture in the Eighteenth Century (London, 1997), pp. 88–94, 98–111.
44. See also: P. Lawson (ed.), ‘Tea, Vice and the English State, 1660–1784’,
A Taste for Empire and Glory. Studies in British Overseas Expansion, 1660–1800
(Aldershot, 1997), pp. 13–15.
45. Greenberg, British Trade, p. 3.
46. J. B. Du Halde, The General History of China: Containing a Geographical,
Historical, Chronological, Political and Physical Description of the Empire of
China . . . (4 vols., London, 1736), Vol. II, p. 10.
47. H.-C. Mui and L. H. Mui, The Management of Monopoly: A Study of the English
East India Company’s Conduct of Its Tea Trade, 1784–1833 (Vancouver, 1984),
p. 133.
48. J. Hanway (ed.), ‘An Essay on Tea. Considered as Pernicious to Health;
Obstructing Industry; and Impoverishing the Nation . . .’, A Journal of Eight
Days Journey from Portsmouth to Kingston Upon Thames; Through Southampton,
Wiltshire etc. . . . (London, 1756), pp. 200–361.
49. On the balance of trade idea in mercantilism see: D. A. Irwin, Against the
Tide. An Intellectual History of Free Trade (Princeton, 1996), pp. 34–38.
50. B. Kowaleski-Wallace, ‘Tea, Gender, and Domesticity in Eighteenth-Century
England’, Studies in Eighteenth-Century Culture, 23 (1994), pp. 131–145, esp.
pp. 135–138.
51. J. S. Taylor, Jonas Hanway. Founder of the Marine Society. Charity and Policy in
Eighteenth-Century Britain (London, Berkeley, 1985), esp. pp. 52–57.
52. Porter, Ideographia, p. 198.
53. Ibid., pp. 194–198.
54. Hanway, ‘An Essay on Tea’, p. 300.
55. On the insecurity about the British expansion in this period and the wealth
that came with it see: Wilson, Island Race, pp. 49–51, 56; P. J. Marshall,
‘A Free Though Conquering People’. Britain and Asia in the Eighteenth Cen-
tury. An Inaugural Lecture in the Rhodes Chair of Imperial History Delivered at
King’s College London on Thursday 5 March 1981 (London, 1981), pp. 6–10;
T. W. Nechtman, ‘A Jewel in the Crown? Indian Wealth in Domestic Britain
in the Late Eighteenth Century’, Eighteenth-Century Studies, 41, 1 (2007),
pp. 71–86.
56. P. Pindar (ed.), ‘Ode to Coffee’, Works (London, 1812), Vol. 4, pp. 183–185.
57. J. Simmons (ed.), Robert Southey: Letters from England (Gloucester, 1984),
p. 192.
58. J. Morley, Regency Design 1790–1840. Gardens, Buildings, Interiors, Furniture
(London, 1993), pp. 342–343.
59. Ibid., p. 336.
60. J. Oinkel, The Royal Pavilion Brighton (New York, 1983); pp. 34–38; J. Morley,
The Making of the Royal Pavilion, Brighton: Designs and Drawings (London,
1984), pp. 114–119.
200 Notes
61. W. Alexander, The Costume of China (London, 1805); W. Alexander, Pic-

turesque Representations of the Dress and Manners of the Chinese (London,
1814).
62. G. H. Mason, The Costume of China (London, 1800); G. H. Mason, The
Punishments of China (London, 1801).
63. M. Archer, ‘From Cathay to China. The Drawings of William Alexan-
der, 1792–4’, History Today, December (1962), pp. 864–871, esp. p. 870f.,
M. Archer, ‘Works by William Alexander and James Wales’, in S. Simmonds
and S. Digby (eds.), The Royal Asiatic Society: Its History and Treasures (Leiden,
1979), pp. 118–122, esp. p. 119.
64. F. Wood, ‘Closely Observed China: From William Alexander’s Sketches to His
Published Work’, British Library Journal, 24, 1 (1998), pp. 98–121, esp. p. 108;
P. Connor and S. Legouix Solman, William Alexander: An English Artist in
Imperial China (Brighton, 1981), p. 27.
65. G. L. Staunton, An Authentic Account of an Embassy from the King of Great
Britain to the Emperor of China (2 vols., London, 1797), Vol. II, p. 233.
66. Peter Manson has pointed out the importance of exotic and ethnographic
painting in the 16th and 17th century. Even though the drawings for exam-
ple by Albert Eckhout (1607–1665) are partly already ethnographic and not
just exotic representations, the difference to the pictures of the late 18th
century is evident. The earlier paintings still stood in the symbolic tradition
and they were less relevant for the exploration of the world. See: P. Mason,
Infelicities. Representations of the Exotic (Baltimore, London, 1998), pp. 43–63;
B. Smith, Imagining the Pacific. In the Wake of the Cook Voyages (New Haven,
London, 1992), pp. 28–36, 81; B. Stafford, Voyage into Substance. Art, Science,
Nature and the Illustrated Travel Account, 1760–1840 (Cambridge, MA, 1984),
p. 51.
67. B. F. Tobin, Picturing Imperial Power. Colonial Subjects in Eighteenth-Century
British Painting (Durham, London, 1999), pp. 146–147.
68. Pratt, Imperial Eyes, p. 64.
69. Alexander, Costume, No. 2.
70. W. H. Pyne, The Costume of Great Britain (London, 1808).
72. Ibid., No. 12.
73. Ibid.
74. Mason, Costume.
75. C. Clunas, Chinese Export Watercolours (London, 1984), pp. 11, 24.
76. Ibid., p. 32.
77. Tobin, Picturing Imperial Power, pp. 140–143.
79. Alexander, Picturesque Representations, No. 23.
80. William Alexander: A young Chinese Scholar (Paul Mellon Centre for Studies
in British Art, London); William Alexander: Chinese girl (Paul Mellon Center
for Studies in British Art, London).
81. Times, 9 April 1827, p. 1, Issue 13248, col. A; Times, 8 May 1827, p. 1, Issue
13273, col. A; Times, 21 May 1827, p. 2, Issue 13284, col. E.
82. J. Dinkel, The Royal Pavilion Brighton (New York, 1983), pp. 34–38; J. Morley,
The Making of the Royal Pavilion, Brighton: Designs and Drawings (London,
1984), pp. 114–119.
Notes 201
83. Dinkel, Royal Pavilion, p. 43.

84. Ibid., pp. 43, 51–53.
85. L. Colley, Britons. Forging the Nation 1707–1837 (3rd edn., London, 1996),
pp. 220–223, 243–250.
86. Dinkel, Royal Pavilion, p. 46.
87. Ibid.
88. See also on the satirical attacks of George: M. Paris, ‘Contestation ou consol-
idation du pouvoir? Aspects de la manipulation de themes traditionels dans
la satire politique, Londres 1819–20’, History of European Ideas, 3, 3 (1982),
pp. 273–280, esp. p. 275f. Paris notes that the satirists mainly play with the
moral theme of the King who is not able to fulfil his role as good and moral
King, father of the nation and his family, a stereotype which will become
predominant during the reign of Queen Victoria.
89. S. Parissien, George IV. The Grand Entertainment (London, 2001), pp. 339–354.
90. On ‘Fum’ as a nickname for George see: Ibid., p. 351.
91. On the Prince’s and his brother’s attempt to style themselves as heroes of
the British nation and their failure to appeal to the same sense of Britishness
as the majority of the population see as well as on the cartoon by William
Williams: Ibid., pp. 268–281, 351.
92. At this point, the Edinburgh Review, however, in contrast to the members of
the embassy, still gave a positive image of a father-like Chinese Emperor in
order to highlight the failings of the embassy and the EIC with which it was
connected: Brockey, Journey to the East, Vol. LVIII, February 1818, p. 438.
3 At the China Coast

1. Bayly, Imperial Meridian, pp. 98–99.
2. H. V. Bowen, ‘British India, 1765–1813, the Metropolitan Context’, in
P. Marshall, J. (ed.), The Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 2001), Vol. II,
pp. 530–551.
3. C. H. Philips, The East India Company, 1784–1834 (Manchester, 1961),
pp. 23–34.
5. ‘Instructions to Lt.-Col. Cathcart, Nov. 30th 1787’, in H. B. Morse (ed.), The
Chronicles of the East India Company Trading to China, 1635–1834 (Oxford,
1926), Vol. 2, pp. 160–167, esp. p. 160; H. Dundas, ‘Instructions to Lord
Macartney, Sept. 8, 1792’, in H. B. Morse (ed.), The Chronicles of the East
India Company Trading to China 1635–1834 (5 vols., London, 1926), Vol. 2,
pp. 232–242, esp. p. 232.
6. On the role of the scientific instruments during the encounter of the
embassy see: S. Schaffer, ‘L’inventaire de l’astronome. Le commerce
d’instruments scientifique au XVIIIe siècle (Angleterre-Chine-Pacifique)’,
Annales Histoire, Sciences sociales, 60, 4 (2005), pp. 791–816, esp. pp. 796–
807; J. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar. Qing Guests Ritual and the Macartney
Embassy of 1793 (London, 1995), pp. 77–78, 147–148.
7. ‘Cathcart Instructions’, p. 164; Dundas, ‘Instructions to Lord Macartney,
Sept. 8, 1792’, p. 238.
202 Notes
8. J. L. Cranmer-Byng, ‘Russian and British Interests in the Far East, 1791–

1793’, Canadian Slavonic Papers, X, 3 (1968), pp. 357–375.
9. Drayton, Nature’s Government, pp. 66–81.
10. P. J. Marshall, ‘Britain and China in the Late Eighteenth Century’, in
R. A. Bickers (ed.), Ritual and Diplomacy: The Macartney Mission to China
1792–1794 (London, 1993), pp. 11–30, esp. p. 15.
11. See also: Ibid., p. 15.
12. See for example: R. A. Bickers (ed.), Ritual and Diplomacy. The Macartney
Mission to China 1792–1794, Papers Presented at the 1992 Conference of the
British-Association-for-Chinese-Studies Marking the Bicentenary of the Macartney
Mission to China (London, 1995); A. Peyrefitte, L’Empire immobile ou le choc
des mondes (Paris, 1989); A. Singer, The Lion and the Dragon: The Story of
the First British Embassy to the Court of the Emperor Quian Long in Peking,
1792–1794 (London, 1992); H. H. Robbins, Our First Ambassador to China:
An Account of the Life of George, Earl of Macartney (London, 1908) to name
just a few. Additionally, it has been mentioned in almost every book on
Sino-British relations.
13. Osterhammel, Die Entzauberung Asiens, p. 380.
14. Especially: Peyrefitte, Choc; Pritchard, Crucial Years, pp. 379–384;
J. L. Cranmer-Byng (ed.), ‘Introduction’, in An Embassy to China. Being
the Journal Kept by Lord Macartney During His Embassy to the Emperor of
Ch’ien-lung 1793–1794 (London, 1962), pp. 1–60, esp. pp. 34–38.
15. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar.
16. M. Mancall, Russian and China. Their Diplomatic Relations to 1728
(Cambridge, MA, 1971), p. 223, for details on the Treaty of Nerchinsk
between the Russian and the Qing Empire (1689) see: pp. 156–158.
17. ‘Cathcart Instructions’, p. 161. As Mark Mancall mentions briefly, the
British based their demand for an embassy in Beijing on the precedent of
the Russian ecclesiastical mission: Mancall, Russian and China, pp. 272–273;
Demel, Als Fremde in China, pp. 142–143.
18. B. J. L. Cranmer, ‘Russian and British Interests in the Far East, 1791–3’
Canadian Slavonic Papers, X, 3 (1968), pp. 357–375, esp. p. 375.
19. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar, p. 78.
20. I. George, ‘Letter from King George III to the Emperor of China’, in
H. B. Morse (ed.), The Chronicles of the East India Company Trading to China
1635–1834 (5 vols., London, 1926), Vol. II, pp. 244–247.
21. H. Dundas, ‘Instructions to Lord Macartney, Sept. 8, 1792’. Ibid., pp. 232–
242, esp. p. 240.
22. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar, esp. pp. 76, 80–82; I follow Hevia’s argu-
ment of the importance of the ritual in the Macartney embassy for the
British side, even though diplomatic relations before 1815 did not neces-
sarily require the ‘recognition of the equality of their sovereigns’ but quite
often also the recognition of their different status.
23. Ibid., pp. 62–65; P. J. Marshall, ‘Lord Macartney, India and China: The Two
Faces of the Enlightenment’, South Asia. Journal of South Asian Studies, 19
(1996), pp. 121–133.
24. On earlier distrust of the Chinese and Jesuits as interpreters see S. R. Sti-
fler, ‘The Language Students of the East India Company’s Canton Factory’,
Journal of the North China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, LXVIII(1937),
Notes 203
pp. 46–82, esp. p. 49, n 9; G. Anson and R. Walter, A Voyage Round the World
in the Years 1740–1744 (London, 1748), pp. 417, 424–425.
25. D. Ludden, ‘Orientalist Empiricism: Transformations of Colonial Knowl-
edge’, in C. Breckenridge and P. van der Veer (eds.), Orientalism and the
Postcolonial Predicament. Perspectives on South Asia (Philadelphia, 1993),
pp. 250–278, esp. p. 255; Bayly, Empire and Information, p. 288.
26. Staunton, Account, Vol. I, pp. 39–41, 395–396.
27. Stifler, ‘Language Students’, p. 46.
28. Staunton, Account, Vol. I, p. 451; Vol. II, pp. 14, 142–143.
29. Ibid., Vol. II, p. 592.
30. Cranmer-Byng, Journal, p. 210.
31. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar, pp. 90–94.
33. Ibid., p. 237.
34. Ibid., pp. 222–223.
35. Ibid., pp. 239–240.
36. Ibid., pp. 212–213.
37. See quote from his notes in: Marshall, ‘Lord Macartney, India and China:
The Two Faces of the Enlightenment’, p. 127.
38. Dundas, ‘Instructions to Lord Macartney, Sept. 8, 1792’, p. 236.
40. On the history of European embassies and the kowtow question see: Demel,
Als Fremde in China, pp. 127–136. Windler, Diplomatie, p. 435.
41. Demel, Als Fremde in China, pp. 132–133; J. Bell, Travels from St. Petersburg
in Russia, to Diverse Parts of Asia (2 vols., Glasgow, 1763), Vol. II, pp. 3–4.
42. Thus also the argument in Staunton, Account, Vol. II, p. 131.
43. Cranmer-Byng, Journal, pp. 84–85, 99–100.
44. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar, pp. 30–56; for a critic of this position and
Hevia’s reply to it see: J. W. Esherick, ‘Cherishing Sources from Afra’, Mod-
ern China, 24, 4 (1998), pp. 135–161; J. W. Esherick, ‘Tradutore, Traditore’,
Modern China, 24, 3 (1998), pp. 328–332; J. Hevia, ‘Postpolemical Histori-
ography: A Response to Joseph W. Esherick’, Modern China, 24, 3 (1998),
pp. 319–327.
46. J. Barrow, Travels in China Containing Descriptions, Observations, and Com-
parisons, Made and Collected in the Course of a Short Residence at the Imperial
Palace of Yuen-Min-Yuen, and on a Subsequent Journey Through the Country
from Peking to Canton (London, 1806), p. 118.
47. For the European context see on this: J. Paulmann, Pomp und Politik:
Monarchenbegegnungen in Europa zwischen Ancien Régime und Erstem Weltkrieg
(Paderborn, 2000), esp. p. 17.
48. Hevia, Cherishing Men from Afar, pp. 170–178, 223–224.
50. Ibid., pp. 152–153.
51. See a map of one part of China with the provinces: ‘A Chart, on Mercartor’s
Projection Containing the Track and Sounding of the Lion, the Hindostan,
and Tendres, from Turon-Bay in Cochin-China to the Mouth of the Pei-
ho River in the Gulph of Pe-tche-lee or Pekin by J. Barrow’, in Staunton,
Account, Vol. III; see also the maps by J. Barrow and Henry William
204 Notes
Parish in Staunton, Account, Vol. III; Cranmer-Byng, Journal, pp. 66–67, 83,
106; British Library, Manuscript Department: Mss Add. 35174 (Alexander,
William: A journal of the Lord Macartney’s Embassy to China, 1792–94.
Journal of a Voyage to Peking, the Metropolis of China, in the Indostan
Indiaman, accompanying Lord Macartney as Ambassador to the Emperor
of China), p. 22a; Staunton, Account, Vol. II, pp. 165–167; Vol. II, pp. 21–22,
274–276.
52. T. M. Tsao, ‘Representing China to the British Public in the Age of Free
Trade, ca. 1833–1844’ (State University of New York, Stony Brook, 2000),
pp. 28–33.
53. E.g. Staunton, Account, Vol. I, pp. 517–518; Vol. II, p. 384; S. Holmes, The
Journal of Mr. Samuel Holmes, Sargent-Major, During His Attendance, as One
of the Guard on Lord Macartney’s Embassy to China (London, 1789), p. 98;
A. Anderson, A Narrative of the British Embassy to China (Basilea, 1795), p. 95.
54. Cranmer-Byng, Journal, pp. 104–105.
55. See especially: Barrow, Travels, pp. 3–4.
56. P. Pindar (ed.), ‘Odes to Kien Long I, II, III’, Works (London, 1812), Vol. 2,
pp. 361–374; P. Pindar (ed.), ‘A Lyric Epistle to Lord Macartney, Ambas-
sador to the Court of China’, Works (London, 1812), Vol. 2, pp. 349–358;
Anderson, Narrative; W. Winterbotham, An Historical, Geographical and
Philosophical View of the Chinese Empire. To Which Is Added, a Copious
Account of Lord Macartney’s Embassy, Compiled from Original Communications
(London, 1795).
57. G. T. Staunton, Memoirs of the Chief Incidents of the Public Life of Sir George
Thomas Staunton (London, 1856), pp. 3–27.
58. China through Western Eyes, Manuscript Records of Traders, Travellers,
Missionaries & Diplomats, 1792–1942, Part 2: Sources from the William
R. Perkins Library, Duke University, Reel 27, Papers of George Leonard
& George Thomas Staunton, 1743–1801: George T. Staunton, Letter to
mother, Canton, 25 January 1811; Staunton, Memoirs, pp. 25–26.
59. Morse, Chronicles, Vol. IV, p. 164.
60. Ibid., Vol. IV, p. 346.
61. On the employees of European East India Companies in Canton until 1833
see also: Dermigny, La Chine, Vol. I, pp. 353–369.
62. Pritchard, Crucial Years, pp. 133–134.
63. Fairbank, Trade and Diplomacy, pp. 10–13.
64. For the development of maritime trade in China see: W. E. Cheong,
The Hong Merchants of Canton: Chinese Merchants in Sino-Western Trade
(Richmond, 1997), pp. 1–17.
65. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultations, IOR/G/12/273, dated 29 November
1820; 4 December 1820; 5 December 1820; 6 December 1820; 8 December
1820; 13 December 1820.
66. Morse, Chronicles, Vol. III, pp. 9–13, 67–68.
67. Canton Register, 26 May 1831.
68. Ibid., Vol. 3, No. 4, dated 15 February 1830, p. 13.
69. Ibid., Vol. 3, No. 24, dated 4 December 1830, pp. 105–106.
70. For example: Ibid., Vol. 1, No. 8, dated 18 February 1828, p. 31.
71. For example: BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Separate Secret Letter to China
from the Court of Directors, dated 12 March 1817.
Notes 205
72. Morse, Chronicles, Vol. II, pp. 94–110.

73. Demel, Als Fremde in China, pp. 109–111.
74. F.-T. Fan, British Naturalists in Qing China. Science, Empire, and the Cultural
Encounter (Cambridge, MA; London, 2004), p. 32.
75. Ibid.
76. On the background for the general insolvency of the Hong merchants for
the period till 1798 see: Cheong, Hong Merchants, pp. 246–289.
77. On the image of the treacherous Chinese merchant see: Demel, Als Fremde
in China, pp. 152–160; see also Mui and Mui, The Management of Monopoly,
pp. 19–20.
78. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G/12/27, dated 1 March 1817.
79. For example: BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G/12/272, dated 20
February 1818.
80. On the suspicion of the Qing government of Hong merchants see also: F. J.
Wakeman, Strangers at the Gate. Social Disorder in South China, 1839–1861
(2nd edn., Berkeley, Los Angeles, 1997), p. 48.
81. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Extract Secret Letter to China, dated 7 April
1818; BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Separate Secret Letter to China from
the Court of Directors, dated 12 March 1817.
82. The corruption of local officials in general was certainly a problem that sev-
eral Chinese literati of the time were concerned about. See: J. M. Polachek,
The Inner Opium War (Cambridge, MA; London, 1992), esp. p. 37. On the
wide spread of corruption and its partial acceptance by the emperor dur-
ing the Qing dynasty see: N. E. Park, ‘Corruption in Eighteenth-Century
China’, The Journal of Asian Studies, 56, 4 (1997), pp. 967–1005.
83. Morse, Chronicles, Vol. III, pp. 202–203; BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation,
IOR/G/12/196, Letter from Charles Grant and Thomas Reid to the Earl of
Buckinghamshire, dated 28 July 1815; BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation,
IOR/G/12/273, dated 11 November 1821. For a very positive view of the
Canton system see the American writer W. C. Hunter, The ‘Fan Kwae’ at
Canton Before the Treaty Days 1825–44 (Taipei, 1965), p. 26.
84. See also: G. W. Keeton, The Development of Extraterritoriality in China
(London et al., 1928), pp. 47–70.
85. On the debate about the law in India see: E. Stokes, The English Utilitarians
and India (Oxford, 1959), pp. 1–80, 140–233; Metcalf, Imperial Connections,
pp. 17–18.
86. On Vattel and his influence see: F. Ruddy, International Law in the Enlight-
enment. The Background of Emmerich de Vattel’s Le Droit des Gens (New York,
1975), esp. pp. 111–115, 281–285. On the development of ideas on the law
of nations in this period see also: A. Nussbaum, A Concise History of the Laws
of Nations (New York, 1954), pp. 147–185.
87. J. D. Spence, The Search for Modern China (London, 1990), pp. 123–128.
88. BL, APAC, CFR, Consultations, IOR/G/12/79, dated 4 February 1785.
89. BL, APAC, CFR, Consultations, IOR/G/12/79, dated 4 February 1785;
Keeton, Extraterritoriality, p. 42.
90. Ibid. In 1787 an Act 1787 finally gave the EIC this right: Keeton, Extraterri-
toriality, p. 44.
91. Keeton points this out in a footnote: Keeton, Extraterritoriality, p. 42.
92. Ibid.
206 Notes
93. BL, APAC, CFR, Consultations, IOR/G/12/128, dated 22 March 1800.

94. On a further example, the Neptune affair, see: P. Tuck, ‘Law and Disorder
on the China Coast: The Sailors of the Neptune and an Affray at Canton,
1807’, in R. Harding, A. Javis and A. Kennedy (eds.), British Ships in China
Seas. 1700 to the Present Day (Liverpool, 2004), pp. 83–98, esp. pp. 92–93.
95. On the increased rejection of Chinese law by the Europeans see also:
Keeton, Extraterritoriality, pp. 47–70. However, he mainly fails to notice the
conflict between the EIC in Canton and Court of Directors in this point.
96. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Extract Secret Letter to China, dated 7 April
1818.
97. BL, APAC, CFR, Letter by the Select Committee, Secret Communications,
IOR/G/12/272, dated 2 December 1818.
98. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Communications, IOR/G/12/272, dated 25 July 1819.
99. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G12/273, dated 22 Novem-
ber 1821. See on the cruelty of the Chinese legal system also: Mason,
Punishments.
100. Canton Register, Vol. III, No. 8, dated 15 April 1830, p. 31. See on their
attitude to Chinese law also: Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 21, dated 24 May
1828, p. 82; Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 24, dated 14 July 1828, p. 72; Canton
Register, Vol. III, No. 17, dated 25 August 1830; Canton Register, Vol. V, No.
10, dated 18 July 1832, p. 69.
101. See also Keeton, Extraterritoriality, pp. 69–70.
102. B. S. Cohn, Colonialism and Its Forms of knowledge: The British in India
(Princeton, 1996), p. 21.
103. See for example: J. J. Klor de Alva, ‘Language, Politics, and Translation:
Colonial Discourse and Classical Nahuatl in New Spain’, in R. Warren (ed.),
The Art of Translation. Voices from the Field (Boston, 1989), pp. 143–162;
A. Pennycook, English and the Discourses of Colonialism (London, New York,
1998); J. Fabian, Language and Colonial Power. The Appropriation of Swahili in
the Former Belgian Congon, 1880–1938 (Cambridge, 1986); G. Viswanathan,
Masks of Conquest. Literary Study and British Rule in India (Dehli, 1998);
M. S. Dodson, ‘Translating Science, Translating Empire: The Power of Lan-
guage in Colonial North India’, Comparative Studies in Society and History,
47, 4 (2005), pp. 809–835; D. Lelyveld, ‘The Fate of Hindustani: Colonial
Knowledge and the Project of a National Language’, in C. Breckenridge
and P. van der Veer (eds.), Orientalism and the Postcolonial Predicament.
Perspectives on South Asia (Philadelphia, 1993), pp. 189–214.
104. See: Wakeman, Strangers at the Gate, p. 49.
106. See for example: Ibid., p. 49, n. 9; Anson and Walter, Voyage Round the World,
pp. 417, 424–425. On the system of linguists see: Van Dyke, Canton Trade,
pp. 77–93.
107. Anson and Walter, Voyage Round the World, p. 425.
109. See for example: A. Q. Montucci, The Answer of A. Montucci . . . to the Conduc-
tors of the Critical Review and Monthly Magazine, Concerning Their Review of a
Title-Page and Prefatory Letter, Accompanying Proposals for a Treatise on the Chi-
nese Language (1801); J. Hager, An Explanation of the Elementary Characters of
the Chinese . . . Anlysis . . . Ancient Symbols and Hieroglyphics (London, 1801).
Notes 207
110. See for example: W. Milne, A Retrospect on the First Ten Years of the Protestant
Mission to China (Now, in Connection with the Malay, Denominated, the Ultra-
Ganges Missions. Accompanied with Miscellaneous Remarks on the Literature,
History and Mythology of China) (Malacca, 1820), pp. 43–48.
111. J. F. Davis, Chinese Novels. Translated from the Originals; to Which Are Added
Proverbs and Moral Maxims, Collected from Their Classical Books and Other
Sources. The Whole Prefaced by Observations on the Language and Literature of
China (London, 1822), pp. 1–2.
112. Barrow, Travels, p. 615.
113. Davis, Chinese Novels, p. 5. See also: J. Marshman, ‘The Works of Confucius;
Containing the Original Text, with a Translation’ to Which Is Prefixed a Disser-
tation on the Chinese Language and Character (Serampore, 1809), pp. ii–iii.
114. Milne, First Ten Years, p. 50.
115. G. Cannon, The Life and Mind of Oriental Jones: Sir William Jones, the Father
of Modern Linguistics (Cambridge, 1990), pp. 25, 39, 46.
116. Aarsleff, Study of Language, p. 127.
117. W. Jones, A Grammar of the Persian Language (London, 1771), pp. iv, xiv–xv.
118. See also: Ballantyne, Orientalism, p. 26.
119. W. Jones (ed.), ‘The Fifth Anniversary Discourse, on the Tartars’, Discourses
Delivered at the Asiatick Society 1785–1792 (with a new Introduction by Roy
Harris edn., Tokyo, 1993), pp. 71–102, esp. p. 71.
120. Aarsleff, Study of Language, pp. 129–134.
121. W. Jones (ed.), ‘The Seventh Anniversary Discourse, on the Chinese’, Dis-
courses Delivered at the Asiatick Society 1785–1792 (with a new Introduction
by Roy Harris edn., Tokyo, 1993), pp. 95–113, 137–161.
122. W. Jones (ed.), ‘Discourse the Ninth on the Origin and Families of Nations’,
Discourses Delivered at the Asiatick Society 1785–1792, with a New Introduc-
tion by Roy Harris (Tokyo, 1993), pp. 185–204, esp. p. 186. See also: Aarsleff,
Study of Language, p. 136.
123. See, esp. for the following years: J. Joseph, E., ‘A Matter of Consequenz:
Humboldt, Race and the Genius of the Chinese Language’, Historiographia
Linguistica, XXVI, 1/2 (1999), pp. 89–148, esp. p. 96.
124. Aarsleff, Study of Language, p. 139. See also: R. Schwab, La Renaissance
oriental (Paris, 1950), pp. 52–53.
125. Stifler, ‘Language Students’, pp. 50–65.
126. On the new triad: Joseph, ‘Consequenz’, p. 93.
127. Davis, Chinese Novels, p. 38.
128. Ibid., pp. 1–2; General Plan of the Anglo-Chinese College Forming at Malacca
(Malacca, 1818), p. 7.
129. W. W. Moseley, The Origin of the First Protestant Mission to China (London,
1842), p. 20.
130. Ibid., p. 113.
131. See for example: Milne, First Ten Years, p. 356; British and Foreign Bible Soci-
ety, The Second Report of the British and Foreign Bible Society (London, 1806),
p. 77.
132. Bayly, Imperial Meridian, pp. 142, 150.
133. E. Morrison, Memoirs of the Life and Labours of Robert Morrison (London,
1839), Vol. II, Appendix, p. 14.
134. See for example: Milne, First Ten Years, p. 89.
208 Notes

136. BL, APAC, CFR, Select Committee Consultations, IOR/G/12/274, dated
17 January 1822. See on a further discussion of the problematic of the trans-
lation of yi/barbarian: L. H. Liu, The Clash of Empires. The Invention of China
in Modern World Making (Cambridge, MA; London, 2004), pp. 31–69. As
this paragraph shows, she is however wrong in dating the beginning of this
conflict to 1832, see pp. 41–42. Rather, it was already problematic at least
from the Macartney embassy onwards.
137. BL, APAC, CFR, Select Committee Consultations, IOR/G/12/274, dated 17
December 1822.
138. Ibid.
139. BL, APAC, CFR, Select Committee Consultations, Draft Letter to Hong
Merchants, IOR/G/12/274, dated 17 December 1822.
140. BL, APAC, CFR, Select Committee Consultations, IOR/G/12/274, dated 24
December 1822.
141. Ibid.
142. Canton Register, Vol. III, No. 23, dated 15 November 1830, p. 99.
143. Ibid., Vol. III, No. 21, dated 24 May 1828, p. 82.
144. Ibid., Supplement to the Canton Register, dated 21 June 1828.
145. T. H. Barrett, ‘Chinese Religion in English Guise: The History of an Illusion’,
Modern Asian Studies, 39, 3 (2005), pp. 509–534, esp. pp. 511–516.
146. Marshall and Williams, Map of Mankind, pp. 108–111, 116–117.
147. P. Harrison, ‘Religion’ and the Religions in the English Enlightenment
(Cambridge, 1990), p. 3.
148. Ibid., pp. 130–146 et passim.
149. Marshall and Williams, Map of Mankind, p. 98.
150. For the importance of the pre-history of the mission during the 18th
century see: A. Porter, Religion Versus Empire? British Protestant Missionaries
and Overseas Expansion, 1700–1914 (Manchester, 2004), pp. 15–38.
151. D. W. Bebbington, Evangelicalism in Modern Britain (London, 1989), p. 5.
152. W. W. Moseley (ed.), ‘A Memoir on the Importance and Practicability of
Translating and Printing the Holy Scriptures in the Chinese Language’, The
Origin of the First Protestant Mission to China . . . (London, 1842), pp. 95–116,
esp. pp. 98–99.
153. Ibid., pp. 96–98.
154. B. Stanley, The Bible and the Flag: Protestant Missions and British Imperialism
in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries (Leicester, 1990), pp. 58–61.
155. Porter, Religion Versus Empire, pp. 11, 316–330 and passim.
156. S. Thorne, Congregational Missions and the Making of an Imperial Culture in
Nineteenth-Century England (Stanford, CA, 1999), esp. pp. 36–44, 73–79.
157. Thorne’s simple equation of the missionary movement with the rising
middle class is however problematic, see also: A. Burns, ‘Congregational
Missions and the Making of an Imperial Culture in Nineteenth-Century
England by Susan Thorne (Review)’, The Journal of Imperial and Common-
wealth History, XXIX, 2 (2001), pp. 172–174.
158. Porter, Religion Versus Empire, pp. 64–90. Porter is right to remark that
despite this the priority of missionaries was never to build the British
Empire, but rather only to use it for their purpose. See: Porter, Religion Versus
Empire, pp. 116–117.
Notes 209
159. On the relationship between the missionaries and trade, see: A. Porter,
‘ “Commerce and Christianity”: The Rise and Fall of a Nineteenth-Century
Missionary Slogan’, Historical Journal, XVIII (1985), pp. 76, 597–621. Stanley
attributes this combination of Christianity and Commerce not to a link
between the missionaries and the middle-class opposition, but rather to
the intrusion of Benthamite ideas into the belief of the nineteenth-century
Christians (pp. 74–76). In the earlier period under discussion here the mis-
sionaries did not yet believe in the benefit of commerce for the spread of
the Gospel and often tried to disassociate themselves from the traders.
However, they still sometimes, as in this case, tried to show where the
general benefits of a mission to Britain could be [see Porter, ‘ “Commerce
and Christianity”: The Rise and Fall of a Nineteenth-Century Missionary
Slogan’, esp. pp. 601–602; Porter, Religion Versus Empire, p. 95].
160. Moseley, ‘Memoir’, p. 98, footnote 4.
161. Milne, First Ten Years, pp. 64–65; B. Harrison, Waiting for China. The
Anglo-Chinese College at Malacca, 1818–1843 and Early 19th Century Mis-
sion (Hong Kong, 1979) p. 52; Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison,
pp. 187–189.
162. Harrison, Waiting for China, p. 52; SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming
Correspondence, Box 1, 1803–1817, R. Morrison to G. Burder, dated 11
December 1809.
163. Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison, p. 188; Milne, First Ten Years, p. 64.
164. SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming Correspondence, Box 1, 1803–1817,
R. Morrison to G. Burder, dated 11 December 1809.
165. The Select Committee at Canton would even defend his presence against
their superiors in London, who were much more suspicious of the pres-
ence of a missionary who might irritate the Chinese. His knowledge of
Chinese was indispensable for the periphery. BL, APAC, Secret Consulta-
tion, IOR/G/12/271, dated 12 October 1815.
166. M. A. Rubinstein, The Origins of the Anglo-American Missionary Enterprise in
China, 1807–1840 (London, 1996), pp. 83–87, 92.
167. Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison, Vol. I, p. 163.
R. Morrison, dated 1 April 1809. On these services see also: Rubinstein,
Origins, p. 82.
169. Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison, pp. 200, 202, 211, 382; Milne, First
Ten Years, pp. 123–127.
170. B. Stanley (ed.), ‘Christian Missions and the Enlightenment: A Reevalu-
ation’, Christian Missions and the Enlightenment (Cambridge et al., 2001),
pp. 1–21, esp. p. 12.
171. His earlier language teachers were Roman Catholics, which seems to have
it made easier to hire them (Rubinstein, Origins, p. 78). Even if Morrison
sometimes saw the Catholic missionaries as fellow soldiers for Christ, he
often enough tried to teach his Chinese teachers that Protestantism was
the only true religion: Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison, pp. 165–166,
168–169.
172. See for example: SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming Correspondence,
Box 1, 1803–1817 (Duplicate from and abstract of the original letter)
R. Morrison to LMS, dated 14 December 1809.
210 Notes
Kate Teltscher has described a similar pattern for the Lutheran missionar-
ies in India in the 18th century: K. Teltscher, India Inscribed. European and
British Writing on India (Dehli, 1995), pp. 96–97.
173. B. Hilton, The Age of Atonement. The Influence of Evangelicalism on Social and
Economic Thought, 1795–1865 (Oxford, 1988), pp. 19–20.
R. Morrison to LMS, dated 2 April 1815.
R. Morrison to the BFBS (British Foreign and Bible Society), dated 27
January 1814.
176. See: Transactions of the London Missionary Society, Vol. IV, 1818, p. 377. A dif-
ferent version of the translation of Christianity into the Chinese context
can be seen by the first Protestant Chinese convert, Liang Fa, whose reli-
gious tracts were patterned according to Ming-Ch’ing’s morality books, and
were inspired by concepts of his Confucian and Buddhist upbringing, such
as the idea of personal failure, sin and salvation (see: R. P. Bohr, ‘Liang
Fa’s Quest for Moral Power’, in J. K. Fairbank and S. W. Barnett (eds.),
Christianity in China: Early Protestant Missionary Writings (Cambridge, MA,
1985), pp. 35–47, esp. p. 46). On the adaptation of the form of traditional
Chinese texts for the publication of Christian ones for a later period see
also: E. S. Rawski, ‘Elementary Education in the Mission Enterprise’, in
S. W. Barnett and J. K. Fairbank (eds.), Christianity in China. Early Protes-
tant Missionary Writings (Cambridge, MA; London, 1985), pp. 135–151, esp.
p. 146; on Liang Fa and the influence of his tracts on Hong Xiuquan, the
leader of the Taiping Rebellion, see: J. D. Spence, God’s Chinese Son. The Taip-
ing Heavenly Kingdom of Hong Xiuquan (London, 1996), pp. 16–18, 30–33,
51–78.
177. Missionary Chronicle, October 1827, p. 441.
178. Transactions of the London Missionary Society, Vol. IV, 1818, p. 124.
179. Teltscher, India Inscribed, p. 105.
180. On the anti-Christian tradition in China and the political background
to the edicts and persecutions of Christians in the late 18th and early
19th century see: P. A. Cohen, China and Christianity: The Missionary Move-
ment and the Growth of Chinese Antiforeignism 1860–1870 (London, 1966),
pp. 20–34, esp. 33–34. Next to the fear of heterodoxy and its association
with moral as well as political unrest, the association of Christianity with
the expanding European powers in the region seems to have been one
major reason for the persecution of Christianity by the Chinese state.
181. See also: Rubinstein, Origins, p. 81.
R. Morrison to LMS, dated 22 December 1812; Printed in: Transactions of the
London Missionary Society up to 1817, London, 1818, pp. 123–124.
183. Ibid., pp. 7–8.
184. See on this in the context of the American Mission to China also:
M. A. Rubinstein, ‘The Wars They Wanted. American Missionaries’ Use of
the Chinese Repository Before the Opium War’, American Neptune, XLVIII,
4 (1988), pp. 271–282, esp. pp. 277–279.
185. Transactions of the London Missionary Society, Vol. III, London, 1813, p. 340.
186. Ibid., Vol. IV, London, 1818, p. 377.
Notes 211
187. See also: Evangelical magazine, August 1825, p. 323 and Milne, First Ten
Years, p. 27. See Dawson, Chinese Chameleon on a brief statement on mis-
sionary attitudes to Confucius, p. 134 and on later missionary verdicts and
on Jones, Image of China, p. 63.
188. Indo-Chinese Gleaner, Vol. VI, October 1818, p. 198.
189. Transactions of the London Missionary Society, Vol. IV, 1818, p. 261.
190. Ibid., pp. 150–152.
191. Indo-Chinese Gleaner, Vol. IX, July 1819, p. 170.
193. SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming correspondence, Box 1, 1807–1817,
R. Morrison to G. Burder, dated 16 January 1817.
194. Milne, First Ten Years, p. 6. See also p. 16. For this combination of political
as well as religious ideas, see for example: SOAS, CWM, China. Personal,
Box 3, R. Morrison to T. Fisher, dated 24 February 1831.
195. Published in: Transactions of the Missionary Society, Vol. III, London 1813,
p. 457.
196. SOAS, CWM, China. Personal, Box 3, R. Morrison to T. Fisher, dated
9 December 1830.
197. Missionary Chronicle, May, 1820, p. 211.
198. On the connexion of Morrison’s judgement of the Chinese and their lack
of the Christian religion see also: L. Kitzan, ‘The London Missionary Soci-
ety and the Problem of Conversion in India and China, 1804–34’, Canadian
Journal of History, 5, 2 (1970), pp. 13–41, esp. p. 34.
200. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Letter from John Barrow to the Earl of
Buckinghamshire, dated 14 February 1815.
201. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Meeting Court of Directors, IOR/G/12/196, dated 19
April 1815, Letter from W. F. Elphinstone and John Inglis to the Earl of
Buckinghamshire, dated 3 March 1815.
202. Letter from the Right Honble Lord Castlereagh to the Right Honble Lord
Amherst, dated 1 January 1816, in Morse, Chronicles, Vol. III, p. 279.
203. George, ‘Letter from King George III to the Emperor of China’, p. 244.
204. Ibid., p. 278.
205. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196 Copy of Letter from Secret Commercial
Committee to Lord Amherst, dated 17 January 1816.
206. H. Ellis, Journal of the Proceedings of the Late Embassy to China (2nd edn.,
2 vols., London, 1818), Vol. I., p. 76; BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Copy
Letter from Lord Castlereagh to Lord Amherst, dated 1 January 1816.
207. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Copy Letter from Lord Castlereagh to Lord
Amherst, dated 1 January 1816.
208. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/196, Copy of a Secret Commercial Letter to
China, dated 27 September 1815.
209. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G/12/272, dated 24 November
1817, Letter from the Select Committee at Canton to the Secret Committee
of the Court of Directors.
210. R. M. Healey, ‘Ellis, Sir Henry (1788–1855)’. Oxford Dictionary of National
Biography (online edn., Oxford, 2005).
211. Ellis, Embassy, Vol. I, p. 79.
212. Ibid., Vol. I, p. 77.
212 Notes
213. G. T. Staunton, Notes of Proceedings and Occurences During the British Embassy
to Pekin in 1816 (P. Tuck, Britain and the China Trade 1635–1842, London,
New York, 2000), Vol. X, pp. 31–32.
215. Ibid., Vol. I, p. 129.
216. Ibid., Vol. I, pp. 106–107, 148, 161.
217. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/197, W. Amherst to George Canning, President of
the Board of Commissioners for the Affairs of India, dated 22 March 1817.
220. See for example: Ellis, Embassy, Vol. I, pp. 135–136.
221. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/197, W. Amherst to George Canning, dated 8
March 1817.
223. Ibid., p. 214.
224. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/197, W. Amherst to George Canning, President of
the Board of Commissioners for the Affairs of India, dated 22 March 1817.
225. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/197, W. Amherst to George Canning, dated 8
March 1817.
226. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/197, G. Staunton to the Chairman of the Court
of Directors, not dated; Ellis, Embassy, Vol. I, pp. 277, 437–439; R. Morrison,
A Memoir of the Principal Occurrences During an Embassy from the British Gov-
ernment to the Court of China, in the Year 1816 (London, 1820), pp. 179–181.
227. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/198, W. Amherst to Chairman and deputy
Chairman of the Court of Directors, dated 3 May 1817.
228. Ibid.; see also: BL, APAC, CFR, Extract Canton Secret Consultation,
IOR/G/12/196, dated 12 February 1816.
229. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/197; Staunton to the Chairman of the Court of
Directors, not dated.
230. R. Travers, ‘Ideology and British Expansion in Bengal, 1757–72’, Journal of
Imperial and Commonwealth History, 33, 1 (2005), pp. 7–27.
231. Greenberg, British Trade, pp. 35–37.
232. Ibid., pp. 85–103.
233. On the development of the private trade and its relation to the EIC in
Canton see: Ibid., esp. pp. 18–40; on the nationality issue: p. 83.
234. Tsao, ‘Representing China’, pp. 36–37.
235. See amongst others: Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 2, November 1827, p. 6;
Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 8, dated 18 February 1828, p. 31; Canton Register,
Vol. II, No. 9, dated 2 May 1829, p. 43.
236. Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 11, dated 15 March 1828, p. 41. See also Canton
Register, Vol. I, No. 7, dated 11 February 1828, p. 26; Canton Register, Vol.
III, No. 15, dated 2 August 1830, pp. 63–64.
237. See for example: Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 41, dated 13 December 1828,
p. 3.
238. Ibid., Vol. I, No. 11, dated 15 March 1828, p. 42; Ibid., Vol. I, No. 20, dated
17 May 1828, p. 79; Canton Register, Vol. III, No. 21, dated 16 October 1830.
240. See for example: Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 38, dated 3 November 1828.
Despite this image which they used, the country traders had to admit that
Notes 213
Canton was one of the best places to transact business in the world. See:
Greenberg, British Trade, p. 61.
241. Canton Register, Vol. I, No. 18, dated 3 May 1828, p.71.
242. See also: Greenberg, British Trade, pp. 41–42.
243. Canton Register, Vol. III, No. 18, dated 6 November 1830, p. 76.
244. Ibid., Vol. IV, No. 10, dated 13 May 1831, p. 41.
246. Polachek, Inner Opium War, pp. 101–125; D. A. Bello, Opium and the Limits of
Empire. Drug Prohibition in the Chinese Interior, 1729–1850 (Cambridge, MA;
London, 2005), pp. 115–138.
248. Stokes, English Utilitarians, pp. 150–168.
249. Morse, Chronicles, Vol. IV, pp. 199–200.
251. See also: Ibid., pp. 176–177.
252. BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/281, Letter from the Select Committee to the
Court of Directors, dated 18 October 1830; 14 December 1829.
253. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G/12/276, dated 25 December
1829.
254. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G/12/276, dated 11 January 1830,
Select Committee, letter to Lord Cavendish Bentinck, dated 11 January
1830.
255. Ibid.
256. BL, APAC; CFR, IOR/G/12/281, Letter from the Select Committee to
The Court of Directors, dated 24 February 1830. For a detailed account of
the occurrences see also: Morse, Chronicles, Vol. IV, pp. 197–221; Indeed, the
two governor-generals in this period, Li Hung-pin and Lu K’un were rather
conciliatory towards the British and turned a blind eye on their involve-
ment in the opium trade in contrast to the wishes of the emperor. This was
also true of the main supporter of the 1836 campaign to legalise opium,
Juan Yuan, who had been Liang-Kuang viceroy between 1817 and 1826;
see: Polachek, Inner Opium War, pp. 109–112, 115–116; on the problematic
of opium smoking and its prohibition in this period see also: J. D. Spence,
Opium Smoking in Ch’ing China (reprint in Britain and the China Trade
1635–1842, London, New York, 2000), Vol. XI, 2, pp. 158–161.
257. See also: Greenberg, British Trade, pp. 72–73, Melancon, ‘Peaceful Inten-
tions’, p. 37.
Court of Directors, 15 December 1830.
259. Canton Register, 16 October 1830, No. 21.
260. BL, APAC, CFR, Canton Consultations, IOR/G/12/244, dated 19 October,
1830.
261. Ibid.
262. BL, APAC, CFR, Canton Consultations, IOR/G/12/244, dated 20 October,
1830.
263. BL, APAC, CFR, Canton Consultations, IOR/G/12/244, dated 23 October
1830; 25 October 1830.
Court of Directors, dated 31 May 1831; Morse, Chronicles, Vol. IV, p. 282.
214 Notes
Court of Directors, dated 7 September 1831.
Court of Directors, dated 7 November 1831.
267. See: Polachek, Inner Opium War, esp. pp. 103–109; Bello, Limits of Empire,
pp. 115–116.
268. PRO, FO 17/476, Memorandum by Mr Hepper on the China Act.
269. J. K. Laughton; rev. Lambert, Andrew, ‘Napier, William John, Ninth Lord
Napier of Merchistoun (1786–1834)’. Oxford Dictionary of National Biography
(online edn., May 2007, Oxford, 2004).
270. Greenberg, British Trade, p. 191; Inglis, The Opium War, p. 89; Collis, Foreign
Mud, pp. 107–125.
271. Melancon, Britain’s China Policy.
273. Ibid., p. 178.
274. Ibid., p. 187.
275. Ibid., pp. 187–188.
276. Ibid., pp. 188–191.
277. On the increasing opium trade and its links with British revenue in India
see: Inglis, The Opium War; Bayly, The Birth of the Modern World, 1780–1914,
p. 137.
278. Chang, Commissioner Lin and the Opium War, p. 85; Polachek, Inner Opium
War, p. 104.
279. Z. Yangwen, The Social Life of Opium in China (Cambridge, 2005), pp. 87–97.
280. Polachek, Inner Opium War, pp. 103–120.
282. PRO, FO 17/13, Palmerston to Elliot, dated 22 July 1836.
283. Laughton, ‘William John Napier’.
284. For a narrative account of the episode see: Fay, The Opium War, 1840–1842,
pp. 67–79.
285. Greenberg, British Trade, p. 192; Fay, The Opium War, 1840–1842, p. 69.
286. Melancon, Britain’s China Policy, p. 37.
287. See chapter 5.3.
288. PRO, FO 17/476, dated 25 January 1834.
289. PRO, FO 17/476, Napier to Palmerston, Canton, dated 9 August 1834.
290. PRO, FO 17/476, Napier to Palmerston, London, dated 28 December 1833.
291. PRO, FO 17/476, Palmerston to Napier, London, dated 30 December 1833.
292. See for example: PRO, FO 17/4/6, Napier to Palmerston, Canton, dated 9
August 1834; PRO, FO/677/3, Napier to Palmerston (Private), Canton, dated
14 August 1834.
293. Fay, The Opium War, 1840–1842, p. 73
294. PRO, FO 17/6743, Napier to Palmerstion, dated 14 August 1834.
295. PRO, FO 17/6/43, Napier to Palmerston, dated 14 August 1834.
296. PRO, FO 677/3, Napier to Palmerston, Private, dated 14 August 1834.
297. PRO, FO 17/7, Proceedings of the Superintendents of British Trade in China,
dated 29 August 1834.
298. PRO, FO 17/7, dated 1 September 1834.
299. Melancon, Britain’s China Policy, pp. 49–55; Graham, The China Station: War
and Diplomacy, 1830–1860, p. 65.
Notes 215
300. PRO, FO 17/09, Robinson to Palmerston, dated 27 February 1835.

301. H. Schlyter, Der China-Missionar Karl Gützlaff und seine Heimatbasis (Lund,
1976), p. 17; C. Gützlaff, Journal of Three Voyages Along the Coast of China in
1831, 1832, & 1833 (London, 1834).
302. Gützlaff, Three Voyages, p. 75; PRO, FO 17/09, dated 21 February 1835,
‘Observations on the Stoppage of Trade at Canton’; PRO, FO 17/10, Macao,
dated 1 July 1835, ‘Remarks on Official Correspondence with Chinese
Government’.
303. Ibid., pp. 174–189, 205–206, esp. pp. 249–250, 297–309; Chang, Commis-
sioner Lin and the Opium War, pp. 82–83.
304. Chang, Commissioner Lin and the Opium War, pp. 83–84.
305. PRO, FO 17/09, dated 21 February 1835, ‘Observations on the Stoppage
of Trade at Canton’; ‘Statistical Account of the Chinese Empire’; ‘Essay
on the Present State of Our Relations with China’; ‘An Essay Upon the
Military Power of the Chinese Empire, It’s Means to Defence etc.’; dated
12 April 1835, ‘Trade to All the Ports of the Chinese Empire’; dated 16
April 1835, ‘Financial System of the Chinese Empire’; dated 1 August 1835,
‘Remarks on Official Correspondence with the Chinese Government’; PRO,
FO 17/10, Macao, dated 1 July 1835, ‘Remarks on Official Correspondence
with Chinese Government’.
306. PRO, FO 17/09, ‘An Essay Upon the Military Power of the Chinese Empire,
It’s Means of Defence etc’.
307. PRO, FO 17/09, ‘Proceedings Relative to the Formation of a Society for the
Diffusion of Useful Knowledge in China, Canton 1835’.
308. Ibid.
309. PRO, FO 17/09, 25 February, Canton, Minutes of the Establishment of the
Morrison Education Society.
310. PRO, FO 17/09, Robinson to Palmerston, Macao, dated 22 April 1835.
311. Polachek, Inner Opium War, p. 120.
312. Greenberg, British Trade, pp. 199–201; Chang, Commissioner Lin and the
Opium War, p. 91.
313. PRO, FO 17/15, Elliot to Palmerston, Macao, dated 27 July 1836; FO 17/20,
Elliot to Palmerston, Macao, dated 21 February 1837; PRO, FO 17/26, Elliot
to Palmerston, Macao, dated 20 April 1838.
315. PRO, FO 17/10, Macao, dated 26 July 1835, Minute.
316. PRO, FO 17/13, Palmerston to Elliot, dated 22 July 1836.
317. PRO, FO 17/27, Elliot to Palmerston, Canton, dated 31 December 1838.
318. Graham, The China Station: War and Diplomacy, 1830–1860, pp. 73–83; PRO,
FO 17/27, Elliot to Palmerston, Canton, dated 31 December 1838; Chang,
Commissioner Lin and the Opium War, pp. 69–81.
319. Greenberg, British Trade, p. 196; PRO, FO 17/27, Elliot to Palmerston,
Canton, dated 31 December 1838.
321. Melancon, Britain’s China Policy, p. 77; PRO, FO 17/31, Elliot to Palmerston,
Canton, dated 30 March 1839.
322. For a narrative of the events, see: Graham, The China Station: War and
Diplomacy, 1830–1860, pp. 65–87 and PRO, FO 17/31, Elliot to Palmerston,
Canton, dated 30 March 1839.
216 Notes
323. Chung, China and the Brave New World. Study of the Origins of the Opium
War; Greenberg, British Trade; Inglis, The Opium War, pp. 167–205; Fay,
The Opium War, 1840–1842, pp. 180–195; Chang, Commissioner Lin and the
Opium War, pp. ix–xii; Collis, Foreign Mud.
324. For the latter position, see for example: Chang, Commissioner Lin and the
Opium War; Fairbank, Trade and Diplomacy; Morse, International Relations of
the Chinese Empire.
325. Melancon, Britain’s China Policy, pp. 1–6.
326. PRO, FO 17/31, Elliot to Palmerston, Canton, dated 18 May 1839.
327. PRO, FO 17/22, Elliot to Palmerston, Canton, dated 19 November 1837.
328. PRO, FO 17/32, Elliot to Palmerston, Hong Kong, dated 27 August 1839.
329. PRO, FO 17/31, Memorial by British Merchants to Lord Palmerston,
Canton, dated 23 May 1839.
330. PRO, FO 17/20, Elliot to Palmerston, Macao, dated 21 February 1837; FO
17/22, Elliot to Palmerston, Canton, dated 19 November 1837.
331. PRO, FO 17/32, Memorandum by Elliot on 11 September 1839 to Comman-
ders of British Vessels; FO 17/32, Elliot to Palmerston, Macao, dated 18 July
1839.
332. PRO, FO 17/20, Elliot to Palmerston, Macao, dated 21 February 1837.
333. PRO, FO 17/25, Palmerston to Elliot, Foreign Office, dated 15 June 1838.
334. See also: Fay, The Opium War, 1840–1842, pp. 80–97; P. W. Fay, ‘The Protes-
tant Mission and the Opium War’, Pacific Historical Review, 40, 2 (1971),
pp. 145–161; Rubinstein, ‘Wars They Wanted’, esp. pp. 279–282.
335. Polachek, Inner Opium War, pp. 131, 151.
336. Canton, dated 3 April 1839, Foreign Dept, Consultation No. 74, dated 26
June 1839, No. 18, FO 17/31.
337. See also: PRO, FO 17/31, Canton Elliot to Palmerston, dated 18 May 1839.
338. Graham, The China Station: War and Diplomacy, 1830–1860, pp. 94–95.
339. Ibid., pp. 95–119.
340. Ibid., p. 119; S. Mann and P. A. Kuhn, ‘Dynastic Decline and the Roots
of Rebellion’, in J. K. Fairbank (ed.), The Cambridge History of China
(Cambridge, 1978), Vol. X, pp. 107–162, 158–160.
4 South and Southeast Asian Encounters

1. C. A. Trocki, Opium and Empire. Chinese Society in Colonial Singapore, 1800–
1910 (Ithaca, London, 1990), p. 15.
2. On the concept of ‘information panic’ see: Bayly, Empire and Information,
p. 143.
3. See also: K. Labh, ‘China as a Factor in the Policy of British India Towards
Nepal’, Journal of Indian History, 55, 3 (1977), pp. 177–188; esp. pp. 177–183.
4. Bayly, Empire and Information, pp. 56–57.
5. On the Gurkha conquest of Nepal see: K. Pradhan, The Gorkha Conquests.
The Process and Consequences of the Unification of Nepal, with Particular Refer-
ence to Eastern Nepal (Calcutta, 1991), pp. 89–152; L. F. Stiller, The Rise of the
House of Gorkha (New Dehli, 1973).
6. See for example: Bayly, Empire and Information, esp. pp. 56–142.
7. C. R. Markham, Narratives of the Mission of George Bogle to Tibet, and of the
Journey of Thomas Manning to Lhasa (London, 1876), pp. clviii, 278–280.
Notes 217
8. D. Woodman, Himalayan Frontiers. A Political Review of British, Chinese,

Indian and Russian Rivalries (London, 1969), pp. 22–34.
9. See on the Bogle mission: K. Teltscher, The High Road to China. George Bogle,
The Panchen Lama and the First British Expedition to Tibet (London, 2006).
10. BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/1.
11. A. Lamb, British India and Tibet, 1766–1910 (2nd revised edn., London, New
York, 1986), pp. 4–7.
13. BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/7, on Bogle and the mission see also: K. Teltscher,
‘Writing Home and Crossing Cultures: George Bogle in Bengal and Tibet,
1770–1775’, in K. Wilson (ed.), A New Imperial History. Culture, Identity, and
Modernity in Britain and the Empire, 1660–1840 (Cambridge, 2004), pp. 281–
296; Teltscher, High Road to China.
14. E. S. Rawski, The Last Emperors. A Social History of Qing Imperial Institutions
(Berkeley, Los Angeles, London, 1998), pp. 244–263.
15. BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/23; BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/1; BL, APAC, MSS
EUR E 226/30; BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/11; see also: K. Teltscher, ‘The
Lama and the Scotsman: George Bogle in Bhutan and Tibet, 1774–1775’,
in F. A. Nussbaum (ed.), The Global Eighteenth Century (Baltimore, London,
2003), pp. 151–164, esp. pp. 157–161.
16. Markham, Narratives, pp. 45–46 (Report to Warren Hastings, Tassisudon, 16
July 1774).
17. Ibid., p. 132.
18. Teltscher, ‘The Lama’, esp. pp. 157–161.
19. Markham, Narratives, pp. 151, 134, 194–196.
20. Teltscher, High Road to China, pp. 85–86.
22. BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/31; BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/34; BL, APAC, MSS
EUR E 226/23.
23. S. Cammann, Trade Through the Himalayas. The Early British Attempts to Open
Tibet (Princeton, 1951), pp. 70–74; Teltscher, High Road to China, p. 220.
24. S. Turner, An Account of an Embassy to the Court of the Teshoo Lama, in Tibet:
Containing a Narrative of a Journey Through Bootan, and Part of Tibet (London,
1800), pp. 253, 367, 373.
25. A. Lamb (ed.), Bhutan and Tibet. The Travels of George Bogle and Alexander
Hamilton, 1774–1777 (Hertingfordbury, 2002), Vol. I, Extract from Bogle’s
letter to Hastings, written on 27 April 1775 from Paro in Bhutan, p. 222.
26. BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/31; BL, APAC, MSS EUR E 226/34.
27. Rawski, The Last Emperors, pp. 261–262.
29. Cranmer-Byng, Journal, pp. 232–233. Rawski, The Last Emperors,
pp. 247–249, 263.
31. Ibid.
32. Stiller, Rise; Pradhan, The Gorkha Conquests.
33. For a new interpretation of these conflicts see: B. A. Michael, ‘Statemaking
and Space on the Margins of Empire: Rethinking the Anglo-Gorkha War of
1814–1816’, Studies in Nepali History and Society, IV, 2 (1999), pp. 247–294.
34. K. C. Chaudhuri, Anglo-Nepalese Relations. From the Earliest Times of the
British Rule in India Till the Gurkha War (Calcutta, 1960), pp. 34–65.
218 Notes
35. R. Dhanalaxmi, British Attitude to Nepal’s Relations with Tibet and China
(1814–1914) (New Delhi, 1981), pp. 17–23; Lamb, British India, p. 19.
36. W. Kirkpatrick, Account of the Kingdom of Nepaul: Being the Substance of Obser-
vations Made During a Mission to That Country, in the Year 1793 (London,
1811), p. vii.
37. Ibid., p. vi.
38. Ibid.
39. J. Barrow, Some Account of the Public Life and a Selection from the Unpublished
Writings of the Earl of Macartney (2 vols., London, 1807), Col. II, pp. 203–204.
40. Turner, An Account of an Embassy, p. 442.
41. Dhanalaxmi, British Attitude, pp. 25–31; on the war see also: Michael,
‘Statemaking’; N. R. L. Rana, The Anglo-Gorkha War (1814–1816)
(Kathmandu, 1970).
42. Lamb, British India, pp. 30–37.
43. BL, APAC, IOR/H/644, F. Buchanan to J. Adam, dated 19 August 1814.
44. BL, APAC, IOR/H/516, W. Moorcroft to J. Adam, in Papers Respecting the
Nepaul War (London, 1824), p. 89.
45. The British accused the Nepalese to be of such a treacherous character that
they pretended to have British troops towards the Chinese, dressing their
troops in red, and to have Chinese support towards the British by assum-
ing the dress of Chinese officials: BL, APAC, IOR/H/644, Letter from Capt.
Hearsey to J. Adam, dated 24 August 1814.
46. BL, APAC, IOR/H/516, Secret Letter from Lord Moira to the Secret Commit-
tee, dated 2 August 1815, in Papers Respecting the Nepaul War, p. 722.
47. Labh, ‘China as a Factor’, p. 182; Dhanalaxmi, British Attitude, p. 27.
48. BL, APAC, Board’s Collection, Bengal Political Letter, F4/552, dated 16
November 1816, Narrative of Proceedings Connected with the Advance of a
Chinese Force Towards the Frontier of Nipaul; Lamb, British India, pp. 34–36.
49. BL, APAC, Board’s Collection, Bengal Political Letter.
50. On Hodgson see: G. Van Driem, ‘Hodgson’s Tibeto-Burman and Tibeto-
Burman Today’, in D. M. Waterhouse (ed.), The Origins of Himalayan Studies.
Brian Houghton Hodgson in Nepal and Darjeeling 1820–1858 (London, New
York, 2004), pp. 227–247; K. L. Pradhan, Brian Hodgson at the Kathmandu
Residency, 1825–1843 (Delhi, 2001).
51. See for example: BL, APAC, F/4/1485, f293; F74/1384, Extract Political Letter
from Fort William, dated 15 December 1831; BL, APAC, MSS EUR Hodgson
9 (159); BL, APAC, R/5/50, B. Hodgson to W. Maddock, dated 22 November
1839; IOR/R/5/50, B. Hodgson to H. Torrens, dated 10 October 1840; See
also: Dhanalaxmi, British Attitude, pp. 32–50.
52. BL, APAC, MSS EUR Hodgson 3 (43).
53. BL, APAC, Board’s Collection, Fort William’s Political Consultations,
F4/1324, dated 26 March 1830.
F4/1380, dated 28 October 1831; 26 March 1830.
F4/1380, dated 28 October 1831.
F4/1324, dated 10 June 1831; 10 December 1830.
57. BL, APAC, MSS EUR Hodgson 9; MSS EUR Hodgson 6.
Notes 219

F/4/1330, dated 31 July 1827.
59. B. H. Hodgson, Essays on the Languages, Literature, and Religion of Nepal and
Tibet (London, 1874), pp. 30–33; MSS EUR Hodgson 6.
60. Hodgson, Essay on the Languages, p. 68.
61. Ibid., pp. 76–82.
62. See also: BL, APAC, IOR/R/5/50, B. Hodgson to H. Torrens, dated 20 October
1840.
63. On the Serampore mission and its link to the EIC see: D. Kopf,
British Orientalism and the Bengal Renaissance. The Dynamics of Indian
Modernization, 1773–1835 (Berkeley, Los Angeles, 1969), pp. 55, 71–74.
M. A. Laird, Missionaries and Education in Bengal, 1793–1837 (Oxford, 1972),
pp. 44–178.
64. BMS, IN/19A, J. Marshman to J. Ryland, dated 20 August 1806.
65. BMS, IN/19/A, J. Marshman to J. Ryland, dated 25 May 1806.
66. E. H. Cutts has pointed towards some of the political implications of this
position, mainly arguing that it was meant to equip the next embassy to
China with a translator: E. H. Cutts, ‘Chinese Studies in Bengal’, Journal of
the American Oriental Society, 62 (1942), pp. 171–174; esp. p. 174. For exam-
ple, Marshman dedicated his translation of Confucius to Minto: Marshman,
Confucius, p. iii.
67. T. H. Barrett, Singular Listlessness: A Short History of Chinese Books and British
Scholars (London, 1989), pp. 61–62.
68. Marshman, Confucius, p. iii.
69. Cutts, ‘Chinese Studies’; p. 174.
70. J. Marshman, Elements of Chinese Grammar, with a Preliminary Dissertation on
the Characters and the Colloquial Medium of the Chinese Ta-hysh of Confucius
with a Translation (Serampore, 1814), p. 170.
71. Letter Marshman (Periodical account to Ryland, Serampore, dated 20
August 1806, Angus Library, Baptist Missionary Society, IN/19A).
72. BMS, IN/19/A, J. Marshman to J. Ryland, dated 24 July 1811.
73. BL, APAC, IOR/G/12/274, Select Committee Consultations (24 December
1822); Lamb, British India, p. 42.
74. Marshman, Confucius.
75. Hodgson, Essays on the Languages, p. 110.
76. See on this: Woodman, Himalayan Frontiers, pp. 37–83.
77. Pradhan, Brian Hodgson, p. 105; BL, APAC; IOR/R/5/50, B. Hodgson to
H. Torrens, dated 18 June 1840.
78. Dhanalaxmi, British Attitude, pp. 42–48; Pradhan, Brian Hodgson, pp. 110,
137; BL, APAC, IOR/R/5/51, B. Hodgson to India, W. H. Macnaghten, dated
5 September 1841; 6 September 1841; BL, APAC, IOR/R/5/50, B. Hodgson
to H. Torrens, dated 20 October 1840.
79. Lamb, British India, pp. 53–57.
80. On the term ‘Southeast Asia’ see: J. D. Legge, ‘The Writing of Southeast
Asian History’, in N. Tarling (ed.), The Cambridge History of Southeast Asia
(Cambridge, 1992), Vol. 1, pp. 1–50; esp. pp. 1–2.
81. On John Leyden see: J. Reith, Life of Dr John Leyden. Poet and Linguist
(Galashiels, 1908); V. M. Hooker and M. B. Hooker (eds.), ‘Introductory
Essay’, John Leyden’s Malay Annals (Kuala Lumpur, 2001), pp. 1–80.
220 Notes
82. J. Leyden, ‘On the Language and Literature of the Indo-Chinese Nations’,
Asiatic Researches, 10 (1808), pp. 158–290; see on the essay also: Hooker and
Hooker, ‘Introductory Essay’, pp. 26–30.
83. See also: Van Driem, ‘Hodgson’s Tibeto-Burman and Tibeto-Burman Today’,
pp. 233–235.
84. R. Morrison, Vocabulary of the Canton Dialect (Macao, 1828).
85. R. Morrison, A Dictionary of the Chinese Language, in Three Parts (Macao,
1815). Morrison only adds a table that should help readers to find words in
the dictionary according to their Cantonese pronunciation (p. xv).
86. Leyden, ‘On the Language and Literature of the Indo-Chinese Nations’,
pp. 266–267.
87. Hooker and Hooker, ‘Introductory Essay’, p. 11.
88. See: C. M. Turnbull, ‘Crawfurd, John (1783–1868)’. Oxford Dictionary of
National Biography (online edn., Oxford, 2004); P. G. Robb, ‘Mackenzie,
Colin (1753–1821)’. Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (online edn.,
Oxford, 2004).
89. Tsao, ‘Representing China’, p. 42; Du Halde also already made a short notice
of the industrious habit of the Chinese workers, but sees it mainly as a result
of their hardship in live: Du Halde, General History, Vol. II, pp. 123–126.
90. Barrett, Singular Listlessness, p. 71
91. Zhang, ‘British Views’, pp. 159–160. Only takes note of the 1807 scheme
to bring Chinese workers to Trinidad and the positive reception of the Chi-
nese in this context without further discussing the circumstances of these
endeavours.
92. See also: Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 27. On the system of Chinese junk
trade with Southeast Asia at the example of Siam see: J. Cushman, Fields
from the Sea. Chinese Junk Trade with Siam During the Late Eighteenth and
Early Nineteenth Centuries (Ithaca, 1993).
93. Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 15, for an overview see also: L. Pann, Sons of
the Yellow Emperor (London, 1990), pp. 23–42.
94. Mark Frost has recently pointed out that while European maritime tech-
nology became more important in the trade in Southeast Asia, the Chinese
junk trade remained significant in several areas and many links between
Southeast Asian trading places with Chinese settlements in Southeast Asia
equally stayed in the hands of the Chinese. See: M. R. Frost, ‘Empo-
rium in Imperio: Nanyang Networks and the Straits Chinese in Singapore,
1819–1914’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, 36, 1 (2005), pp. 29–66; esp.
p. 37.
95. Trocki, Opium and Empire, pp. 30–35.
96. Ibid., pp. 11–28.
97. For a later period, the global network nature of Chinese emigration has
been emphasised, breaking down the opposition between the idea of assim-
ilation of emigrated Chinese on the one hand and their preserving of their
original culture on the other. See for example: A. McKeown, ‘Conceptualiz-
ing Chinese Diasporas, 1842 to 1949’, Journal of Asian Studies, 58, 2 (1999),
pp. 306–337.
98. See for Singapore: M. Freedman, The Study of Chinese Society. Essays by
Maurice Freedman (Standford, 1979), pp. 84–89; G. Wang, The Chinese
Overseas. From Earthbound China to the Quest for Autonomy (Cambridge, MA;
Notes 221
London, 2000), esp. pp. 55–60; G. Wang, China and the Chinese Overseas
(2nd edn., Singapore, 1992), pp. 4–6; Frost, ‘Nanyang Networks’, esp.
pp. 33–37.
99. H. T. Fry, Alexander Dalrymple (1737–1808) and the Expansion of British Trade
(London, 1970), p. 2.
100. Ibid., p. 21.
101. Ibid., p. 5.
102. Ibid., p. 36.
103. Ibid., p. 48; A. Dalrymple, Oriental Repertory (London, 1793), Vol. 2, p. 567;
on the Chinese trade at Jolo see: J. F. Warren, The Sulu Zone 1768–1898
(Singapore, 1981), pp. 1–9.
104. Dalrymple, Oriental Repertory, Vol. I, p. 567.
105. BL, APAC, MSS/EUR/Orme Mss/67, Memoir of Sooloo.
106. A. Webster, Gentlemen Capitalists. British Imperialism in South East Asia 1770–
1890 (London, New York, 1998), p. 20 and passim.
107. Fry, Alexander Dalrymple (1737–1808) and the Expansion of British Trade,
pp. 27, 44.
108. A. Dalrymple, A Plan for Extending the Commerce of This Kingdom, and of the
East-India-Company (London, 1769), p. 7.
109. Ibid., pp. 66–93.
110. See also: A. Frost, The Global Reach of Empire. Britain’s Maritime Expansion in
the Indian and Pacific Oceans, 1764–1815 (Carlton, Victoria, 2003), pp. 165–
180, 189–207.
111. On the British interest in Southeast Asia see: N. Tarling (ed.), ‘The Estab-
lishment of the Colonial Régimes’, The Cambridge History of Southeast Asia
(Cambridge, 1992), Vol. 2, pp. 5–78, esp. pp. 13–19; N. Tarling, Anglo-
Dutch Rivalry in the Malay World 1780–1824 (Cambridge, 1962); Webster,
Gentlemen Capitalists. British Imperialism in South East Asia 1770–1890,
pp. 42–77.
112. Tarling, ‘The Establishment of the Colonial Régimes’, p. 13; J. Crawfurd,
History of the Indian Archipelago. Containing an Account of the Manners, Arts,
Languages, Religions, Institutions, and Commerce of Its Inhabitants (3 vols.,
London, 1967), Vol. III, pp. 219–254, 267–268.
113. M. C. Granroth, ‘European Knowledge of Southeast Asia: Travel and
Scholarship in the Early Modern Era’ (University of Cambridge, 2003),
pp. 222–226; A. Reid, ‘Historiographical Reflections on the Period 1750–
1870 in Southeast Asia and Korea’, Itinerario, XVIII, 1 (1994), pp. 77–89,
esp. pp. 79–80.
114. Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 24.
115. Granroth, ‘European Knowledge of Southeast Asia’, p. 4.
116. Ibid., pp. 222–226.
117. BL, APAC, Raffles Collection, MSS/EUR/D/199/6, Considerations on the Com-
merce and Policy in the Indian Archipelago, 1817, pp. 189–284. See also: M. C.
Quilty, Textual Empires. A Reading of Early British Histories of Southeast Asia
(Clayton, 1998), esp. pp. 41–82.
118. Alexander Dalrymple had already begun to use this trope. See: A. Dalrym-
ple, Journal of the Schooner Cuddalore, Oct. 1759 on the Coast of China (3rd
edn., London, 1787), pp. 9–14, 96–97; this is a trope with a long duree:
for a discussion of these ideas on Chinese in contrast to the native Malay,
222 Notes
and the effect of this discourse on British rule in Southeast Asia later in
the 19th century see: Metcalf, Imperial Connections, pp. 50–56. However, in
the early 19th century, the ‘lazy Malay’ is contrasted with the ‘industrious
Chinese’ rather than the Indian.
119. J. De Vries, ‘The Industrial Revolution and the Industrious Revolution’, The
Jounral of Economic History, 54, 2 (1994), pp. 249–270, esp. pp. 258–260.
120. Mr. Crawfurd’s statement (Extract from the Third Report of the Select Com-
mittee on the Affairs of the East India Company), Appendix to: Anonym,
The Foreign Trade of China Divested of Monopoly, Restriction, and Hazard by
Means of Insular Commercial Stations (London, 1832), p. 106.
121. A. Osborne, Notes on the Present State and Prospect of Society in New South
Wales with an Account of Manilla and Singapore (London, 1833), p. 92.
122. Crawfurd, History of Indian Archipelago, Vol. III, p. 157. On Malthus’ idea
on immigration, the Chinese and the growth of their population see: T. R.
Malthus, An Essay on the Principle of Population (8th edn., London, 1878),
pp. 98–111.
123. Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 46.
124. See: S. H. Alatas, The Myth of the Lazy Native. A Study of the Image of Malays,
Filipinos and Javanese from the 16th to the 20th Century and Its Function in
the Ideology of Colonial Capitalism (London, 1977), pp. 83–85; Trocki, Opium
and Empire, p. 46.
125. See also the British plans to settle Chinese in Assam for the tea production
in the late 1830s. The Chinese as the more civilised and more industrious
population were believed to be able to cultivate the tea plant better than the
indigenous, savage population. In addition, the tea plant that was native to
Assam was also considered to be a wild species, useless for professional tea
plantation. It was thus believed that only the Chinese tea plant was culti-
vated enough and that only the Chinese could bring the cultivation to the
wildness of Assam (J. Sharma, ‘The Making of “Modern” Assam, 1826–1935’
PhD dissertation (University of Cambridge, 2002), pp. 54–56); J. Sharma,
‘British Science, Chinese Skill and Assam Tea: Making Empire’s Garden’,
The Indian Economic and Social History Review, 43, 4 (2006), pp. 429–455,
esp. pp. 444–446.
126. Osborne, Notes, p. 94.
127. See also Raffles’s opinion on the industrious Chinese in this context:
Memoir, Appendix, pp. 9–10.
128. On the debate about the idea of the free Chinese labourer as a substitute for
African slaves in the metropolis see for example: J. Macqueen, The Colonial
Controversy, Containing a Refutation of the Calumnies of the Anticolonists . . . in
a Series of Letters (Glasgow, 1825), pp. 133–144; Anonym, Considerations
Submitted in Defence of the Orders in Council for the Melioration of Slavery in
Trinidad . . . (London, 1825), pp. 113–114, 185.
129. Asiatic Journal, Vol. I, New Series, January–April 1830, pp. 25–28, 224.
130. BL, APAC, Raffles Collection, MSS/EUR/E/109.
131. The Gentleman’s Magazine, June 1814, pp. 33–40, 561–568.
132. Osborne, Notes, pp. 92–95.
133. See for example: Crawfurd, History of Indian Archipelago, Vol. I, p. 136;
T. S. Raffles, The History of Java (2 vols., London, 1817), Vol. I,
pp. 224–225.
Notes 223
134. A more detailed account of the ideas on the Chinese in the early race theory
will be discussed in the last chapter.
135. J. Crawfurd, ‘Mr. Crawfurd’s Statement. Extract from the Third Report of the
Select Committee on the Affairs of the East India Company’, in Anonym
(ed.), The Foreign Trade of China (London, 1832), pp. 105–110, esp. p. 106.
136. Quote from: C. W. Wurtzburg, Raffles of the Eastern Isles (London, 1954),
p. 140.
137. Crawfurd, History of Indian Archipelago, Vol. I, p. 135.
138. See also on Crawfurd’s Racism: Quilty, Textual Empires, pp. 76–82.
139. R. J. C. Young, Colonial Desire. Hybridity in Theory, Culture and Race (London,
New York, 1995), p. 69.
140. Trocki establishes the image of the opium wreck as the dominant one for
the 19th century: Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 1. See also: Spence, The
Chan’s Great Continent, pp. 124, 146.
141. J. Bastin, The Native Policies of Sir Stamford Raffles in Java and Sumatra. An
Economic Interpretation (Oxford, 1957), p. 9.
142. L. Blussé, Strange Company: Chinese Settlers, Mestizo Women, and the Dutch in
VOC Batavia (Verhandelingen van het Koniklijk Instituut voor Taal-, Land-
en Volkenkunde, 122, Dordrecht, Riverton, 1986), pp. 80, 90–91. On the
Chinese on Java in this from the late 17th to the early 19th century see:
P. Carey, ‘Changing Javanese Perceptions of the Chinese Communities in
Central Java, 1755–1825’, Indonesia, 37 (1984), pp. 1–49.
143. Blussé, Strange Company, p. 5; A. Kumar, Java and Modern Europe. Ambiguous
Encounters (Richmond, 1997), pp. 30–32, 199–201.
144. Bastin, Native Policies, p. 27.
145. V. Purcell, The Chinese in Southeast Asia (2nd edn., London, 1980),
p. 408. See also on Dutch attitudes to Chinese: Kumar, Java, pp. 372,
437–438.
146. Bastin, Native policies, pp. 13–15.
147. Ibid.
148. Ibid., p. 22; Dirk van Hogendorp quoted in: Raffles, History of Java, Vol. I,
pp. 226–227.
149. Wurtzburg, Raffles, pp. 127–128.
150. BL, APAC, MSS/EUR/E/104, Raffles Collection: Considerations on How to
Deal with the Dutch Possessions in the East Indies If They Should Be Captured,
pp. 33–110.
151. Ibid., pp. 97–98.
152. Wurtzburg, Raffles, p. 173.
153. J. Bastin, ‘Sir Stamford Raffles’s and John Crawfurd’s Ideas of Colonizing the
Malay Archipelago’, Journal of the Malayan Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society,
XXVI, 1 (1953), pp. 81–85, esp. pp. 82–83.
155. Ibid., pp. 23–25, 44.
156. T. S. Raffles, Substance of a Minute . . . on the Introduction of an Improved System
of Internal Management and the Establishment of a Land Rental of the Island of
Java (London, 1814), p. 18.
158. On Raffle’s romantic notions of Javanese past see: Quilty, Textual Empires,
pp. 63–70.
224 Notes
159. See for example: BL, APAC, MSS EUR/Mack/Private/21, Observations on the
Nature and Resources of the Territories Under the Authority of the Sultan of
Mataram . . . by John Crawfurd, 1812; BL, APAC, MSS EUR/Mack/Private/35,
Report of the President, dated 11 August 1812, J. Mackenzie to S. Raffles;
Raffles, Substance of a Minute, pp. 98–115.
160. BL, APAC, MSS EUR/Mack/Private/24, Summary of a Report on the State of
Java by Mess Knops & van Pabst, pp. 85–87.
161. BL, APAC, MSS EUR/Mack/Private/35/6, F. J. Rothenbuhler to Lieutenant
Colonel Mackenzie, dated 30 May 1812.
162. J. Bastin, Raffles’ Ideas on the Land Rent System in Java and the Mackenzie Land
Tenure Commission (Verhandelingen van het koninklijk instituut voor Taal-,
Land-, en Volkenkunde, S-Gravenhage, 1954), Vol. XIV, pp. 30–33.
163. Crawfurd, History of Indian Archipelago, Vol. III, pp. 170, 178.
164. Ibid., Vol. I, p. 136.
165. Ibid., Vol. III, p. 73.
166. On this change, see: Bastin, Native Policies, p. 35.
167. See for example: Raffles, Substance of a Minute, pp. 34–35.
168. M. Kuitenbrouwer, ‘Aristocracies Under Colonial Rule: North India and
Java’, in C. A. Bayly and D. H. A. Kolff (eds.), Two Colonial Empires
(Dordrecht et al., 1986), pp. 75–94; esp. p. 84; Bastin, Native Policies,
pp. 52–58.
169. M. C. Ricklefs, A History of Modern Indonesia Since c. 1200 (3rd edn.,
Basingstoke, 2001), pp. 148–149. On the ambivalence between Raffles’s
ideas about the Chinese and their continuing influence and position on
Java see: L. E. Williams, ‘Indonesia’s Chinese Educate Raffles’, Indonesie, 9,
4 (1956), pp. 369–385, esp. pp. 375–379. However, it is difficult to con-
clude that this was the fundamental cause of a change in Raffles’s attitude
to the Chinese. See on this critique of Williams’s article also: J. Bastin,
‘Raffles and the Chinese of Indonesia and Singapore’, Indonesie, 10 (1957),
pp. 259–261.
171. Granroth, ‘European Knowledge of Southeast Asia’, pp. 246–251.
172. N. Tarling, British Policy in the Malay Peninsula and Archipelago, 1824–1871
(Oxford, 1969), pp. 9–18.
173. J. C. Jackson, Planters and Speculators. Chinese and European Agricultural
Enterprise in Malaya, 1786–1921 (Singapore, 1968), pp. 1–22.
174. See for example: BL, APAC, IOR, Home Miscellaneous, H/669, from
D. Maingy to R. Fullerton, dated 23 April 1826.
175. See on Raffles’s different attitude to the Chinese in Singapore also the brief
discussion by Bastin: Bastin, ‘Raffles and Chinese’.
176. BL, APAC, Raffles Collection, MSS/EUR/D/199, Considerations on the Com-
merce and Policy in the Indian Archipelago.
177. Raffles, History of Java, Vol. I, p. 204.
178. Crawfurd, History of Indian Archipelago, Vol. III, p. 186.
179. Raffles, History of Java, Vol. I, pp. 226–228.
180. Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 16; Jackson, Planters and Speculators. Chinese
and European Agricultural Enterprise in Malaya, 1786–1921, p. 3; Y. Ching-
Hwang, ‘Early Chinese Clan Organization in Singapore and Malaya, 1819–
1900’, Journal of Southeast Asian Studies, XII, 1 (1981), pp. 62–92.
Notes 225
181. D. Hume (ed.), ‘Of National Characters’, Essays Moral, Political and Literary
(Oxford, 1963), pp. 123, 202–221.
182. Cranmer-Byng, Journal, pp. 221–230.
183. C. M. Turnbull, A History of Singapore 1819–1988 (2nd edn., Singapore et al.,
1989), pp. 17–21.
184. On the different groups of Chinese who migrated to Singapore in the early
days see: Wang, China, pp. 167–171. Wang notices, that most of them
came from other parts of the Southeast Asia, a fact the British only partly
acknowledged.
185. Wurtzburg, Raffles, pp. 609–611, see also Crawfurd on this: Crawfurd,
History of Indian Archipelago, Vol. I, p. 137.
186. Freedman, Chinese Society, p. 94.
187. Turnbull, History of Singapore, p. 22.
188. T. S. Raffles, ‘Regulation, No. IV of 1823. A Regulation Prohibiting Gaming-
Houses and Cockpits, and for Suppressing the Vice of Gaming at Singapore’.
Singapore. Local Laws and Institutions, 1823 (London, 1824), pp. 10–12.
189. Turnbull, History of Singapore, p. 33. See also on the relation of English law
and Chinese custom law: Freedman, Chinese Society, pp. 94–95.
190. Canton Register, No. 28, dated 19 June 1828, p. 112.
191. Turnbull, History of Singapore, p. 36; Freedman, Chinese Society, p. 95.
192. Trocki, Opium and Empire, pp. 11–28.
193. Trocki is thus wrong to assume that ‘The European literature on secret soci-
eties began with T. J. Newbold’s article in The Journal of the Royal Asiatic
Society in 1841.’ Ibid., p. 20; K. Bolton and H. Christopher (eds.), Selected
Writings (Western Accounts of the History, Sociology and Linguistics of
Chinese Secret Societies, 6 vols., London, New York, 2000), Vol. I, p. xiv.
194. W. Milne, Some Account of a Secret Association in China Entitled: The Triad
Society (London, 1825), pp. 241–248.
195. Ibid., p. 241.
196. Patullo to Anderson, ‘Report on the Hoeys’ (1829), SSR, X 5, p. 173, quoted
in: Trocki, Opium and Empire, p. 23.
197. See on this Milne: Milne, First Ten Years, pp. 137–170; Harrison, Waiting for
China, pp. 11–14, 20; W. H. Medhurst, A Dictionary of the Hok-Keen Dialect
of the Chinese Language (Macao, 1832) pp. v–vi.
198. This pattern would stay the same for his successors as Missionaries to
Penang, Java, Malacca and Singapore: Missionary Chronicle, April 1820,
pp. 170–171.
199. Transaction of the London Missionary Society, Vol. IV, 1818, p. 256.
200. See for example: Missionary Chronicle, June 1820, p. 307.
201. See also: Harrison, Waiting for China, p. 24, on the importance attached to
teach at local schools in the vernacular see: Porter, Religion Versus Empire,
pp. 105–106.
202. Transactions of the London Missionary Society, 1818, p. 450.
203. Harrison, Waiting for China, pp. 134–135.
204. Since this work deals with ideas on the Chinese, the question of the
Malayan population and the missionary efforts directed towards them will
not specifically be dealt with.
205. Laird, Missionaries, pp. 5–11.
206. Ibid., pp. 67–68.
226 Notes
207. S. Sivasundaram, Nature and the Godly Empire. Science and Evangelical Mission
in the Pacific, 1795–1850 (Cambridge, 2005), pp. 66–71; Laird, Missionaries,
pp. 68–71.
R. Morrison to A. Hankey, dated 14 November 1822.
209. Missionary Chronicle, March, 1828, p. 118; Harrison, Waiting for China,
p. 139.
210. For a later period in Singapore see for this argument: Missionary Chronicle,
February 1828, p. 74. R. Morrison, Dialogues and Detached Sentences in the
Chinese Language; with a Free and Verbal Translation in English (Macao, 1816),
pp. 114–115.
211. Indo-Chinese Gleaner, Vol. XI , January 1820, pp. 265–270.
212. The Gentleman’s Magazine, May 1833, p. 388.
213. Missionary Chronicle, August 1828, p. 364.
214. On the importance of a classical Chinese education for the communities of
overseas Chinese see: Wang, Chinese Overseas, pp. 81–82.
215. Indo-Chinese Gleaner, Vol. XIII, July, 1820, p. 377.
216. On the adoption of the Chinese school system in the missionary schools,
see: Rawski, ‘Elementary Education’, esp. pp. 135–140. She states the neces-
sity to include the Chinese curriculum into missionary schools, especially
at the beginning of the missionary schools, whereby she concentrates in her
study on the time after 1840 and on the Chinese mainland, not the begin-
nings in the Malayan Strait. On the general ambivalence of missionary
education in the context of empire see a.o.: Porter, Religion Versus Empire,
pp. 317–320.
217. On the appropriation of missionary education by the local population in
other areas see also for example: Sivasundaram, Nature, pp. 59–64.
218. Evangelical Magazine, June 1829, p. 263.
219. Missionary Chronicle, January 1821, p. 41.
220. Milne, First Ten Years, p. 138.
222. Ibid. August 1824, p. 369. See on Gosport also: Sivasundaram, Nature,
pp. 71–74.
225. See for example: SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming Correspondence,
Box 2, 1818–1829, R. Morrison to LMS Headquarter, dated 14 November
1820; BL, APAC, CFR, IOR/G/12/273, R. Morrison to Select Committee,
dated 18 March 1822. See also: Ibid., pp. 46–53.
227. Ibid., p. 2.
R. Morrison to BFBS, dated 27 January, 1814.
R. Morrison to G. Burder, dated 9 March 1819; also: Missionary Chronicle,
April 1820, p. 169.
230. Anglo-Chinese College, at Malacca. General Plan of the Anglo-Chinese College,
Forming at Malacca (Malacca, 1818), p. 6. For the continuing impor-
tance of Indian language teaching in India as well as the importance of
Notes 227
translations or writings in ‘native’ languages in the Indian context see:

Dodson, ‘Translating Science’, esp. pp. 819–832.
231. Anglo-Chinese College, at Malacca, p. 7.
232. See also: Harrison, Waiting for China, p. 152.
233. R. A. Bickers, ‘Medhurst, Walter Henry (1796–1857)’, in H. C. G. Matthew
and B. Harrison (eds.), Oxford Dictionary of National Biography (Oxford,
2004), Vol. 37, pp. 686–687.
234. Medhurst, Hok-Keen Dialect.
235. Ibid., pp. v–vi.
236. Ibid., p. ix.
237. Girardot, Victorian Translation, pp. 36–42.
5 Asian Networks and the British Isles

1. Memoir of the Life and Public Services of Sir Thomas Stanford Raffles, FRSb,
Particularly in the Government of Java 1811–16, and of Bencoolen and Its Depen-
dencies 1817–1824, with Details of the Commerce and Resources of the Eastern
Archipelago and Selections from His Correspondence, By His Widow (1829),
pp. 568–574, 584–600.
2. Drayton, Nature’s Government, p. 171.
3. See for example: Aarsleff, Study of Language, pp. 129–134; Cannon, Orien-
tal Jones; Said, Orientalism. Western Conceptions of the Orient, pp. 123–150;
S. Pollock, ‘Deep Orientalism? Notes on Sanskrit and Power Beyond the
Raj’, in C. Breckenridge and P. van der Veer (eds.), Orientalism and the
Postcolonial Predicament (Philadelphia, 1994), pp. 76–134.
4. See however: H. Walravens, Aleksej Agafonov: ein unbekannter russischer
Ostasienwissenschaftler des 18. Jahrhunderts: eine Biobibliographie (Hamburg,
1982); H. Walravens, Zur Geschichte der Ostasienwissenschaften in Europa.
Abel Rémusat (1788–1832) und das Umfeld Julius Klaproths (1783–1835)
(Wiesbaden, 1999); H. Walravens, Julius Klaproth (1783–1835) Leben und
Werk (Wiesbaden, 1999); P. Demieville, ‘Apercu historique’, Acta Asiatica,
11 (1966), pp. 56–110; V.-V. Barthold, La découverte de l’Asie. Histoire de
l’Orientalisme en Europe et en Russie (Paris, 1947), pp. 150–176; H. Franke,
Sinology at German Universities (Wiesbaden, 1968); Stifler, ‘Language Stu-
dents’; Barrett, Singular Listlessness.
5. Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison, Vol. I, p. 1.
6. Ibid., Vol. II, pp. 251–281.
7. These different approaches are thus already evident at the beginning of the
19th century, while Girardot dates them to the second half of the century:
Girardot, Victorian Translation, pp. 524–526.
8. I use the term ‘Sinology’ to describe the beginning of a specialised study of
China and the Chinese language in Europe which started to supplant the
Jesuit scholarship on China by advocating new standards for the produc-
tion of knowledge and slowly establishing ‘China studies’ as an academic
field. The term itself seems only to have come into use later in the 19th
century: see: H. Franke, ‘In Search of China: Some General Remarks on
the History of European Sinology’, Europe Studies China. Papers from an
International Conference on the History of European Sinology (London, 1995),
pp. 11–26, esp. p. 12.
228 Notes
9. On Fort William see: Kopf, British Orientalism, pp. 71–74; S. K. Das, Sahibs
and Munshis: An Account of the College of Fort William (Calcutta, 1978);
B. B. Misra, The Central Administration of the East India Company, 1773–1834
(Manchester, 1959), pp. 386–393. On Haileybury see Ibid., pp. 297–402.
10. BL, APAC, CFR, Secret Consultation, IOR/G/12/271, dated 17 February
1817.
11. Ibid.
12. SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming Correspondence, Box 1, Morrison,
1803–1817, R. Morrison to Headquarters, dated 5 July 1815.
14. Ibid., January 1826, p. 41.
15. SOAS, CWM, Home. Incoming Correspondence, Box 4, 1822–1826,
R. Morrison to Headquarters, dated 8 December 1825.
16. After Morrison’s death, George Staunton gave it to the University College,
London, as an incentive for the establishment of a Chair in Chinese studies
in 1837. Today, it forms part of the collection of the SOAS. See: Barrett,
Singular Listlessness, pp. 68–69.
17. Anonym, China: A Dialogue, for the Use of Schools Being Ten Conversations,
Between a Father and His Two Children, Concerning the History and Present
State of That Country, by an Anglo-Chinese (London, 1824), pp. 118–119.
18. Demieville, ‘Apercu historique’, pp. 78–79.
19. On the beginning of Abel Rémusat’s study of Chinese see Walravens,
Geschichte der Ostasienwissenschaften, p. 14.
20. Barthold, La décourverte de l’Asie, p. 305.
21. See Walravens, Geschichte der Ostasienwissenschaften on Julius Klaproth and
the circle of German scholars in Paris at the time, esp. p. 177. On the estab-
lishment of a chair for Chinese and Armenian in 1833, see Walravens, Julius
Klaproth, p. 8.
22. Walravens, Julius Klaproth, pp. 6, 14–21.
24. J. Rousseau and D. Thouard, Lettre édifiantes et curieuses sur la langue chinoise.
Un débat philosophico-grammatical entre Wilhelm von Humboldt et Jean-Pierre
Abel-Rémusat (1821–1831) (Villeneuve-d’Ascq, 1999).
25. Barrett, Singular Listlessness, pp. 68–72.
26. Morrison, Memoirs of Robert Morrison, pp. 282–284, 316–317.
27. SOAS, CWM, Home. Incoming Correspondence. Box 4, 1822–1826,
R. Morrison to Headquarter, dated 14 January 1824.
28. Asiatic Journal, Vol. II, 1830, pp. 201–204; Vol. III, pp. 223–227.
29. Ibid., Vol. III, 1830, p. 227.
30. Ibid., p. 317.
31. J. P. A. Rémusat, Elémens de la grammaire chinoise, ou Principes généraux du
kou-wen ou style antique, et du kouan-hoa c’est à dire, de la langue commune
généralement ustiée dans l’Empire chinois (Paris, 1822), p. xviii.
32. Asiatic Journal, Vol. VIII, 1832, p. 96.
33. Demieville, ‘Apercu historique’, p. 83.
34. This interest becomes especially evident in his discussion with Humboldt
about the Chinese language: Joseph, ‘Consequenz’, p. 93–104.
35. Rémusat, Elémens de la grammaire chinoise, p. xx.
36. Joseph, ‘Consequenz’, pp. 102, 118.
37. Rémusat, Elémens de la grammaire chinoise, p. xx.
Notes 229
38. Davis, Chinese Novels, pp. 9–15. See also on Abel-Rémusat: Asiatic Journal,
Vol. VIII, 1832, pp. 294–295.
39. H. T. Colebrooke, ‘A Discourse Read at a Meeting of the Asiatic Society of
Great Britain and Ireland, on 15th of March 1823’, Transactions of the Royal
Asiatic Society, 1 (1823), pp. xvii–xxiii, esp. p. xxi.
40. Missionary Chronicle, August 1824, p. 371.
41. For the later 19th century see also: Girardot, Victorian Translation, pp. 2–5.
42. Colebrooke, ‘Discourse’, p. xviii.
43. See for example the list of donation for the Royal Asiatic Society: Transac-
tions of the Royal Asiatic Society, Vol. I, 1827, pp. 600–640.
44. K. P. Murti, India. The Seductive and Seduced ‘Other’ of German Orientalism
(Westport, London, 2001), p. 4.
45. Jones, ‘Seventh Discourse’, pp. 140–147.
46. J. F. Davis, ‘Memoir Concerning the Chinese’, Transactions of the Royal
Asiatic Society, 1, May (1827), pp. 1–19, esp. pp. 1–3.
47. Asiatic Journal, Vol. VII, 1832, pp. 31–33.
48. Ibid., p. 41.
49. Davis, ‘Memoir’, pp. 1–3.
50. See for example: Asiatic Journal, Vol. 9, 1832, pp. 302–316. See also: Barrett,
‘Chinese Religion’, pp. 516–519.
51. Asiatic Journal, Vol. 5, 1831, p. 71.
52. Ibid., Vol. 6, 1831, pp. 260–266.
53. See for example: Ibid., Vol. IX, 1832, pp. 302–316.
54. R. Wheeler, The Complexion of Race. Categories of Difference in Eighteenth-
Century British Culture (New Cultural Studies Series, Philadelphia, 2000),
pp. 14–32, esp. p. 28; W. Demel, Wie die Chinesen gelb wurden. Ein
Beitrag zur Frühgeschichte der Rassentheorie (Kleine Beiträge zur europäischen
Überseegeschichte, Bamberg, 1993), pp. 16–24; N. Hudson, ‘From “Nation”
to “Race”. The Origin of Racial Classification in Eighteenth-Century
Thought’, Eighteenth-Century Studies, 29, 3 (1996), pp. 247–265, esp. p. 256.
55. N. Stepan, The Idea of Race in Science: Great Britain 1800–1960 (London,
1982), pp. 9–15. On the emergence of the skull as a focus point in this study
of human variety and the context of the natural history of the late 18th and
early 19th century see also: B. Dietz and T. Nutz, ‘Naturgeschichte des Men-
schen als Wissensformation des späten 18. Jahrhunderts. Orte, Objekte,
Verfahren’, Zeitschrift für Historische Forschung, 32, 1 (2005), pp. 45–70, esp.
pp. 51–61.
56. Demel, Rassentheorie.
57. Ibid., p. 20.
58. Ibid., pp. 27–30.
60. Ibid., p. 184.
61. Ibid., pp. 48–49.
62. See on the idea of the possibilities for foreign people to develop, a.o.
Wheeler, Race, esp. pp. 289–290.
63. J. C. Prichard, Researches into the Physical History of Mankind (2nd edn., 2
vols., London, 1826), Vol. II, pp. 320–323.
64. See: T. Bendyshe (ed.), The Anthropological Treatises of Johann Friedrich Blu-
menbach, Late Professor at Göttingen and Court Physician to the King of Great
Britain. With Memoirs of Him by Marx and Flourens, and an Account of His
230 Notes
Anthropological Museum by Professor R. Wagner, and the Inaugural Dissertation

of John Hunter, M.D. on the Varieties of Man (London, 1865), pp. 264–270.
65. W. Lawrence, Lectures on Physiology, Zoology, and the Natural History of Man
(London, 1819), pp. 530, 557.
66. Ibid., p. 483. See also: p. 315 on the association of the Chinese to the Mon-
golian race and p. 290 as well as on the idea of the yellow skin colour of
the Mongolian race.
67. See: Times, 13 July 1824, p. 2; Times, 9 April 1827, p. 1; Times, 11 April
1831, p. 2.
68. Marshall and Williams, Map of Mankind, pp. 85, 91–94, 175–176.
69. Barrow, Travels, pp. 3–4; See on the categories for placing a nation on the
scale of civilisations: H. M. Höpfl, ‘From Savage to Scotsman. Conjectural
History in the Scottish Enlightenment’, The Journal of British Studies, XVII,
2 (1978), pp. 19–41, esp. p. 20.
70. Edinburgh Review, No. 32, August 1810, pp. 477–478; The Canton register
mainly addressed the question of the Chinese civilisation in relation to its
attitude towards trade. One commentator even complained about the lack
of a comparative discussion of the rank of Chinese civilisation in Canton.
See: Canton Register, No. 37, 18 October 1828.
71. E. Gibbon, The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (Dublin,
1788), Vol. II, p. 3; G. T. Staunton, Ta Tsing Leu Lee: Being the Fundamen-
tal Laws and a Selection from the Supplementary Statutes, of the Penal Code of
China (1810), p. xv.
72. Staunton, Penal Code, pp. xvii–xix, xxiv–xxv.
73. Asiatic Journal, Vol. VI, 1831, pp. 101, 140.
74. Staunton, Penal Code, p. xi; Edinburgh Review, No. 32, August 1810, pp. 481–
489.
75. J. Majeed, Ungoverned Imaginings. James Mill’s The History of India and
Orientalism (Oxford, 1992), p. 125.
76. Ibid., pp. 16–19, 22.
77. Asiatic Journal, Vol. VI, 1832, p. 141.
78. On the theory of the scale of civilisation and Mill’s History of British India
see: L. Zastoupil, John Stuart Mill and India (Stanford, 1994), pp. 12–13.
79. See also: Zhang, ‘British Views’, p. 127.
80. J. Mill, The History of British India (H. H. Wilson, 5th edn., 10 vols., London,
1858), Vol. II, pp. 154–155. See also on Mill’s ideas about China: Zhang,
‘British Views’, pp. 128–130, 226–227; Jones, Image of China, p. 67.
81. Davis, ‘Memoir’, pp. 16–17.
82. Milne, First Ten Years, pp. 45–49.
83. Evangelical Magazine, November 1824, p. 493.
84. SOAS, CWM, South China. Incoming Correspondence, Box 1, Morrison,
1803–1817, R. Morrison to Headquarters, dated 1 May 1816, and dated 2
April 1812.
85. Evangelical Magazine, 1813, p. 37.
86. Ibid., July 1824, pp. 314–315; Annual Meeting of the Bible Society, May 1814.
88. Evangelical Magazine, July 1825, pp. 273–276; August 1825, pp. 322–325;
September 1825, pp. 365–369; October 1825, pp. 410–412; November 1825,
pp. 455–457; December 1825, pp. 501–504.
Notes 231
89. Anonym, A Dialogue for the Use of Schools (London, 1824), pp. 9–19.
90. See for example: Ibid., pp. 72–74; on the responsibility of the British
towards them: pp. 3, 101–103.
91. Ibid., pp. 23–24, 102–103.
92. R. Morrison, Regard to the Affairs of Others. A Discourse, Delivered at Hoxton
Academy Chapel, February 6, 1825 (London, 1825), pp. 37–38.
93. Ibid., p. 33.
94. Ibid., pp. 6, 12–13.
95. Ibid., p. 28.
96. Ibid., p. 32.
97. Petition to the house of commons from British subjects residing in China,
24 December 1830, in: Anonym, The Foreign Trade of China, pp. 95–104.
98. See a summary in: P. Harling, The Waning of ‘Old Corruption’: The Politics
of Economical Reform in Britain, 1779–1846 (Oxford, 1996), pp. 5–6; M. J.
Turner, The Age of Unease. Government and Reform in Britain, 1782–1832
(Stroud, 2000), pp. 250–255, 270; P. Mandler, Aristocratic Government in the
Age of Reform. Whigs and Liberals, 1830–1852 (Oxford, 1990). See for an
opposite view: J. Phillips and C. Wetherell, ‘The Great Reform Act of 1832
and the Political Modernization of England’, American Historical Review,
100, 2 (1995), pp. 411–436. They show that the Great Reform Act indeed
can be interpreted as the beginning of consistent partisanship.
99. Hilton, Age of Atonement; A. M. C. Waterman, Political Economy and Christian
Theology Since the Enlightenment (New York, 2004), pp. 88–162.
100. B. Semmel, The Rise of Free Trade Imperialism: Classical Political Economy, the
Empire of Free Trade and Imperialism, 1750–1850 (Cambridge, 1970).
101. A. Gambles, Protection and Politics. Conservative Economic Discourse, 1815–
1852 (Suffolk, Rochester, 1999).
104. B. Hilton, Corn, Cash, Commerce. The Economic Policies of the Tory Govern-
ments 1815–1830 (Oxford, 1977), pp. 76–77.
105. M. J. Turner, ‘Before the Manchester School: Economic Theory in Early
Nineteenth-Century Manchester’, History, 79, 256 (1994), pp. 216–242, esp.
pp. 218–224; A. Redford, Manchester Merchants and Foreign Trade, 1794–1858
(reprint 1973 edn., Manchester, 1934), pp. 108–118.
106. D. Eyles, ‘The Abolition of the East India Company’s Monopoly, 1833
Unpubl. PhD Thesis’ (University of Edinburgh, 1955), p. 103
107. Philips, The East India Company, 1784–1834, pp. 276–298; Tsao, ‘Represent-
ing China’, p. 58; Eyles, ‘Abolition’, pp. 304–305.
108. Gambles, Protection and Politics, pp. 188–189.
109. See also: B. Gordon, Economic Doctrine and Troy Liberalism 1824–1830
(London, Basingstoke, 1979), pp. 67–69; K. Wilson, Sense of the People:
Politics, Culture and Imperialism in England, 1715–1785 (Cambridge, 1995),
p. 277.
110. Philips, The East India Company, 1784–1834, p. 289.
111. Eyles, ‘Abolition’, p. 173.
112. On ‘Old Corruption’ see: Harling, The Waning of ‘Old Corruption’: The Politics
of Economical Reform in Britain, 1779–1846; Eyles, ‘Abolition’, p. 184.
113. Anonym, The Foreign Trade of China, p. 15.
232 Notes
114. Edinburgh Review, No. CIV, January 1831, pp. 292–295; Anonym, Chinese
Monopoly Examined (London, 1830), pp. 27–46.
115. Anonym, The Foreign Trade of China, pp. 12–13.
116. Ibid., pp. 13–16.
117. Observations on the Influence of the East India Company’s Monopoly on
the Price and Supply of Tea; and on the Commerce with India, China, etc.
Reprinted, . . . , with Corrections and Amendments, from the Edinburgh Review,
No. CIV (London, 1831), p. 15.
118. Asiatic Journal, Vol. XIII, 1834, p. 101. See also: Tsao, ‘Representing
China’, pp. 41–50; Westminster Review, Vol. XX, No. 39, January 1834,
pp. 27–37.
119. Observations, p. 14.
120. Ibid., p. 31.
121. Ibid.
122. This work follows the general usage of the term ‘Tory’ before 1830 and the
term ‘Conservative’ for the 1830s and later; see also: Gambles, Protection
and Politics, p. 6.
123. Ibid., pp. 2–22, 161.
124. Fisher, for example was a writer in the EIC house, Montogomery Martin
proprietor of the EIC.
125. The Gentleman’s Magazine, April 1833, p. 291.
126. SOAS, CWM, China. Personal. Box 3, R. Morrison to T. Fisher, dated 10
October 1833.
127. M. Martin, The Past and Present State of the Tea Trade of England, and of the
Continents of Europe and America, and a Comparison Between the Consumption,
Price of, and Revenue Derived from, Tea, Coffee, Sugar, Wine, Tobacco, Spirits,
etc. (London, 1832), pp. 10–11. A similar attempt to disqualify the petition-
ers and other public opponents of the EIC: Asiatic Journal, Vol. II, 1830,
pp. 187–191.
128. Martin, Past and Present State, pp. 4–5.
129. Ibid., pp. 6–10. On a similar view see: The Gentleman’s Magazine, February
1834, p. 124.
130. H. Ellis, Series of Letters on the East India Question, Addressed to the Members
of the Two Houses of Parliament, Letter 1 (2nd edn., London, 1830), p. 29. On
development towards positive law of international relations see: Nussbaum,
Law of Nations, pp. 164–185.
131. Ellis, Series of Letters on the East India Question, p. 35.
132. The Gentleman’s Magazine, February 1834, pp. 126–129.
134. The Gentleman’s Magazine, February 1834, p. 123.
135. Ibid., May 1833, p. 389.
136. Ibid., April 1833, p. 296; May 1833, p. 392. See also: Asiatic Journal, Vol. I,
New series, 1830, p. 108.
137. Similarly, the difference of Indian culture was also stated as a reason in sup-
port for the continuing EIC administration of India. See: W. S. O’Brien,
Considerations Relative to the Renewal of the East-India Company’s Charter
(London, 1830), pp. 25–30.
138. Ellis, Series of Letters on the East India Question, p. 41.
Notes 233
140. Similar views were frequently expressed, see for example: Asiatic Jour-
nal, Vol. XXVII, January 1829, pp. 2–3; Vol. XXVIII, December 1829,
pp. 678–685.
141. Gambles, Protection and Politics, pp. 159–161.
142. Ellis, Series of Letters on the East India Question, pp. 22, 55; Martin, Past and
Present State, p. 1; Asiatic Journal, July 1829, p. 57.
143. See for example: Martin, Past and Present State, p. 11.
144. The Gentleman’s Magazine, 1 February 1834, pp. 126–128; Martin, Past and
Present State, p. 203.
146. Report from Committees: Seven Volumes; East India Company’s Affairs,
session 5.2–23.7. 1830, Vol. V, No. 644: First Report from The Select
Committee on the Affairs of THE EAST INDIA COMPANY (China Trade).
147. Ibid., p. iv.
148. Ibid., Vol. XX, 20 August 1833, sp. 790; Vol. XIX, 5 July 1833, sp. 210;
Eyles, ‘Abolition’, p. 260. See also: Melancon, Britain’s China Policy,
pp. 17–22.
149. Ibid., pp. 35–37.
150. Eyles, ‘Abolition’, pp. 294–295.
152. Act to Regulate the Trade to China and India, 28 August 1833.
153. Melancon, Britain’s China Policy, p. 58.
154. J. F. Davis, The Chinese: A General Description of the Empire of China and Its
Inhabitants (2 vols., London, 1836), Vol. 1, p. 2; passim.
155. Barrett, Singular Listlessness, pp. 68–72.
156. PRO, Manuscript, FO 97/96 Copy of Communicated by Sir Alex Johnston
to the Duke of Wellington, 3 March 1835.
157. W. H. Medhurst, China: Its State and Prospects, with Special Reference to the
Spread of the Gospel (London, 1838), pp. 220–545.
158. C. Gützlaff, China Opened; or, A display of the Topography, History, Customs,
Manners, Arts, Manufactures, Commerce, Literature, Religion, Jurisprudence, etc.
of the Chinese Empire (London, 1838), pp. iii–iv; C. Gützlaff, A Sketch of
Chinese History, Ancient and Modern; Comprising a Retrospect of the Foreign
Intercourse and Trade with China. Illustrated by a New and Correct Map of the
Empire (London, 1834).
159. Gützlaff, Three Voyages, pp. 103–158.
160. Ibid., see voyages two and three, pp. 159–321.
161. See Greenberg, British Trade, pp. 196–197.
162. Times, 2 August, 1839, p. 3, Issue 17110, col. A.
165. J. F. Murray, The Chinese and the Ministry. An Inquiry into the Origin and
Progress of Our Present Difficulties with China and into the Expediency, Justice,
and Necessity of the War (London, 1840), pp. 11–23; Anonym, Some Pros and
Cons of the Opium Question with a Few Suggestions Regarding British Claims on
China (London, 1840).
167. H. Lindsay, Is the War with China a Just One? (London, 1840), pp. 6–7,
38–40; Anonym, The Rupture with China and Its Causes; Including the
234 Notes
Opium Question, and Other Important Details: In a Letter to Lord Viscount

Palmerston . . . By a Resident in China (London, 1840), p. 43.
168. A. Graham, The Right, Obligation, & Interest of the Government of Great Britain
to Require Redress from the Government of China, for the Late Forced Surren-
der of British-Owned Opium at Canton (Glasgow, Edinburgh, London, 1840),
pp. 3–5, 9–19; Anonym, Pros and Cons, pp. 18–20; S. Warren, The Opium
Question (London, 1840), p. 76.
169. Barrow, Travels, pp. 405–412; Warren, The Opium Question, p. 107.
170. Anonym, Pros and Cons, pp. 29–43; Warren, The Opium Question,
pp. 108–113.
171. G. T. Staunton, Corrected Report of the Speech of Sir George Staunton on Sir
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1840 (London, 1840), pp. 14–15.
172. Medhurst, China, pp. 56–57, 83–85.
173. A. S. Thelwall, The Iniquities of the Opium Trade with China; Being a Devel-
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the Advantages of an Unrestricted Commercial Intercourse with That Vast Empire
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174. Ibid., pp. 124, 173–178; Medhurst, China, pp. 90–92.
175. Medhurst, China, p. 94.
176. Ibid., pp. 83–87; Asiatic Journal, The Opium Trade, Vol. XXX, New Series,
September–December 1839, p. 228.
177. Medhurst, China, pp. 85–88.
178. T. Brook and B. T. Wakabayashi, ‘Introduction: Opium’s History in China’,
in T. Brook and B. T. Wakabayashi (eds.), Opium Regimes. China, Britain, and
Japan, 1839–1952 (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London, 2000), pp. 1–30, esp. p. 8.
179. R. Philip, Peace with China! Or, the Crisis or Christianity in Central Asia: A Let-
ter to the Right Honourable T.B. Macaulay, Secretary at War (London, 1840); on
the ambivalent relationship between the missionaries and the opium trade
see also Rubinstein’s analysis of the American and British publications in
Canton: Rubinstein, ‘Wars They Wanted’, esp. pp. 279–282.
180. Anonym, Rupture with China, p. 33; Warren, The Opium Question, pp. 83–86;
Anonym, Rupture with China, pp. 4–8.
181. Staunton, Corrected Report, pp. 9–11.
182. Murray, The Chinese, pp. 7–11; Asiatic Journal, China, 1840, Vol. XXXII, New
Series, May–August, pp. 61–66; T. H. Bullock (ed.), The Chinese Vindicated,
or Another View of the Opium Question; Being in Reply to a Pamphlet by Samuel
Warren . . . (London 1840), esp. p. 2; pp. 88–94.
183. Asiatic Journal, China, 1840, Vol. XXXII, New Series, May–August, p. 60.
184. Ibid., p. 64.
6 Epilogue
2. PRO, CO 129/1, Article XI, Treaty between Her Majesty and the Emperor of
China, Signed, in the English and Chinese Language, at Nanking, 29 August
1842.
Notes 235
3. G. B. Endacott, Government and People in Hong Kong, 1841–1962. A Constitu-

tional History (Hong Kong, 1964), pp. 23, 36.
4. PRO, CO 129/3, Extract of a letter from Sir Henry Pottinger to the Impe-
rial Commissioners and Viceroy, Hong Kong, 17 September 1842; PRO, CO
129/3, Extract of a letter from the Imperial Commissioners and Viceroy to
Sir Henry Pottinger, Taokwang, 7 September 1842.
5. PRO, CO 129/3, Pottinger to Aberdeen, Hong Kong, 13 June 1843.
6. Endacott, Government and People, pp. 27–38; PRO, CO 129/7, Sir John Davis
to Lord Stanley, Hong Kong, 21 October 1844; Ordinance to establish
supreme court of judicature at Hong Kong, 21 August 1844, Paragraph 3.
7. PRO, CO 129/4, John Davis to Lord Stanley, Athenaeum, London, 21 Decem-
ber 1843; see also: PRO, CO 129/4/64, Memorandum upon constituting
Hong Kong a Free Port, with reference more immediately to the privileges
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8. C. Munn, ‘The Hong Kong Opium Revenue, 1845–1885’, in T. Brook and
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10. Girardot, Victorian Translation, p. 42.
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Index
absolutism, enlightened, 7 BMS, 119

Adam Smith, 37, 84 board of control, 35, 76
aesthetic discourse on China, 150 Bogle, George, 108–12
age of reform, 172–3 Bogue, Supplementary Treaty, 188
Alexander, William, 28–30, 33 Bombay, 86
Altangi, Lien Chi, 22, 24 Bradshaw, 114
American China trade, 93, 172–3 Brighton, 27–8, 31–2, 104, 154
Americans, 48, 76, 85, 103 British Empire, 6–13, 35, 101–3,
American War of Independence, 35 180–6, 188–92
Amherst embassy, 33–4, 76–81, 115, British and Foreign Bible Society, 169
178, 182–3 British and Foreign School Society,
Amoy, 136 169
Anglo-Chinese college, 145, 147, 156, British honour, 101, 184, 186
169–70, 189 British imperial expansion, 1–2, 7–8,
Anglo-Dutch treaty, 125 13, 33, 105, 113, 122, 126, 131,
anti-slavery campaign, 169, 171 151, 186–91
Appelton, William, 7 British Isles, 1–2, 152, 183
Asiatic Journal, 156, 159–60, 167, 176 British merchants, 6, 63, 88, 93, 97,
101–2
Baba society, 123 British missionaries, see under
Balambangan, 124 missionaries
Banks, Joseph, 37 British navy, 47, 95, 103
Barrow, John, 39, 58, 75–6, 155, 163–7 Britishness, 14, 57, 81–2, 90, 122
Batavia, 131, 141, 148 British Parliament, 27, 172, 174, 177,
bekel, 133, 135 181, 184, 186
Bencoolen, 138 British peasant, 129
Bengal, 4, 22, 58–60, 87, 106–14, 116, British products, 173
120–1 British Residency, 116, 168
Bengal Asiatick Society, 160 British trade, 92
Bentham, Jeremy, 51, 83 British treasure, 26
Bentinck, Lord Cavendish, 85, 90 Brown, Capability, 24
BFBS, 169 Buchanan, Francis, 114
Bhutan, 108, 109 Buckingham, James Silk, 174
Bible Buckinghamshire, Earl of, 76
Chinese Bible, religions, Conficius, Buddhism, 64, 72, 110, 162–3
64–5, 72, 119 buddhist monarch, 148
chronology of the, 3, 17, 19–20, bullion, 172
161, 170 bullionist, 26–7
distribution of the, 70, 84, 169 Burder, Dr., 73
education, 99, 143–4 Burma, 106, 118–19
translation, 60–1, 66, 69–70, 118,
148, 152 cabinet makers, 23
Blumenbach, Johann Friedrich, 165 Calcutta, 14, 34, 118, 146
254
Index 255
Calcutta Asiatic Society, 160, 162 Chinese classics, 145

Calcutta Journal, 174 Chinese diaspora, 5, 97, 120, 141, 188
California, 164 Chinese immigration, 106, 123, 127,
Calmucks, 165 131–4, 137
Campong, 138 Chinese language, 57, 60
Canning, George, 80 Chinese law, 45, 51–5, 83, 85, 166–7
Canton, 12, 14, 34, 55, 92, 102 Chinese Penal Code, 51, 53, 56, 138,
British representatives, 5, 47–8, 81, 166, 183
91–6, 182 Chinese proprietors, 130–1
Chinese authorities, 50, 81–2, 86–91 Chinese religions, 3, 16, 64–5, 71–2,
Chinese language, interpreters, 75, 110–11, 119, 162
57–8, 61, 63–4, 121–2, 142, Chinese school system, 143
153, 158 Chinese settlements, 123
Chinese law, 51–5, 85 Chinese societies, 135
country traders, trading houses, Chinese students, 146
82–3 Chinese tax collectors, 131
EIC employees, 45–6 Chinese traders Southeast Asia, 85–6,
mission, 67–70 90, 122, 129, 134, 136–7
Opium trade, 100–3 chinoiserie, 7–8, 16, 18, 21–34, 151,
trade, 4, 36, 46, 50, 82–3, 85, 93 154, 169
Canton Register, 55, 63–4, 83–5, Chippendale, Thomas, 22
97, 138 christian political economy, 172
Captain China, 130, 138–9, 148 civilisations, scale of, 7, 14, 127,
Carey, William, 1, 117 164, 166
caricaturists, 32 Clapham sect, 141, 171
Carlton House, 27–8 Clive, John, 27
Cathay, 7, 16, 187 coastal frontier, 46
Cathcart embassy, 38 Coelestoterrestrial Society, see heaven
Cavendish, Thomas, 125 and earth society
Cawthorn, James, 23 Cohn, Bernhard, 56
Central Asia, 46, 115, 119 cohong system, 4, 104
Chambers, William, 23–5 Colebrook, Henry Thomas, 158
charity schools, 142 College of Fort William, see Fort
Chengede, 111 William
chief superintendent, 91, 94, 96, 187 Collie, David, 138
chief of trade commission, 99 colonialism, 9, 151
China Act, 91 Commissioner Lin, see Lin,
China experts, 104, 150, 178, 183 Commissioner
China image Commutation Act, 35
Canton and embassies, 37, 47, 49, comparative anatomy, 161, 163–4
70, 74, 92, 94–5, 97, 103 comparative philology, 59, 151, 156,
diaspora, 120, 128, 134, 139, 140–1 161, 165
Europe and Britain, 16, 17, 32, 180, comparative study of religions, 65
182–3, 185, 190 Condillac, Etienne, 19
mytical, enlightened, 17–18, 80, 98 Confucianism, 64, 72, 110, 162, 168
China’s north-west expansion, 108 Confucius, 3, 23, 64–5, 72, 110,
China trade, see EIC China trade 118–19, 122, 138, 162, 168
Chinese army, 116 Conservatives, 172, 177–81
Chinese character, 87, 164 constitution of Britain, 180
256 Index
contact zones, 1, 11–15, 33, 186, Du Halde, Jean-Baptiste, 183

189–92 Duke Ho, 80
Cooch Behar, 108 Dundas, Henry, 35–41, 121
Cook, James, 29, 36 Dutch, 48, 97, 123, 125, 131–6, 142
Cooper, Frederick, 9 Dyer, Sam, 144
Coqua, 49
Corn Laws, 174, 177 East Asia, 118
Cornwallis, Charles, 112, 131 Eastern Islands, 136, 181
costume of the Chinese, 29–30 East India, 132
costumes, 164 Agency House, 82
cotton, 86, 173, 179 College, 153
country merchants, 63, 84–6, 90–1, Company Charter Act, 143
93, 96–8, 102, 104, 124, 171, 173, East Indies, 132
175, 179 economic protectionism, 172
country trade, 47, 50, 63–4, 75, 81, edict against Christianity, 169
83–4, 88, 124, 148, 160, Ee, 62–3
171–3, 178 Egypt, 16, 18, 20, 160
Court of Directors, 36, 47–8, 50, 53, EIC
76, 78, 81, 87, 89, 91, 108, 131, bills, 172
153, 156 Calcutta, 34
Crace, John, 28 charter, 171–8
Cranmer-Byng, J., 36 China Trade, 3–6, 23–6, 35–6, 48,
Cranssen, Jacob William, 132 75, 83, 86, see also trade
Crawfurd, John, 122, 126–37, 150, employees, 47
165, 175–6 employees in canton, 2, 47–54,
cruelty and injustice, 54–5 84–5, 88–91, 104
Cuddalore, 124 headquarters, 24, 87
Cumberland, 23 in India, 4–5, 34–9, 82, 107–16,
Cunningham, J. D., 120 126, 177
Cutts, Elmer H., 118 monopoly, 4, 14, 56, 75, 81–5, 91–3,
152, 172–83
Daendels, Herman Willem, 131, 134 Select Committee, 48–52, 68,
Dalai Lama, 109–12, 119 81–5, 97
Dalrymple, Alexander, 120, Southeast Asia, 125–30, 135, 138
123–5, 173 Eight Trigrams, 79
Danish, 48, 83 Ellenborough, Lord, 181
Davis, John Francis, 58, 60, 77, 89–90, Elliot, Charles, 99–103
96, 158, 161–2, 167, 183 Ellis, Henry, 78, 178, 180
Defoe, Daniel, 7 Elphinstone, John Fullarton, 61
Descartes, 18–19 embassy, 5, 34–7, 61, 78, 118, 175
despotism, 7, 51, 82, 167 English law, 51, 53
diligent workers, 137 Enlightenment, 16–17, 69, 75,
Dilkes, John, 52 137, 147
diplomacy, 5–6, 31, 45, 75 European imperialism, 8
dissenting academies, 146 European scientific community,
divine duty, 170 151
Doris affair, 76 Evangelical Magazine, 169–70
Dravidian elements, 117 evangelicals, 66–9, 84, 142,
drawings, ethnographic, 28–30 169–72, 177
Index 257
Evans, Lacy de, 84 Gurkha Kingdom, 112, 116

extraterritorial law, 52 Gurkhas, 106, 107, 112–14
Gützlaff, Karl, 63, 84, 96–9, 148, 157,
Fa, Liang, 70 176, 179, 183
Faquhar, 138
Father Rodriguez, 59–60 Haileybury, 153–4
finance committee, 92 Han Chinese, 117, 162
Fisher, Thomas, 178–9 Hantford College, 153
Fitzherbert, Mary, 28 Hanway, Jonas, 26–7
Flint, James, 57, 61 Harris, James, 19
Fo, 111 Hastings, Warren, 27, 35, 108–10, 120
foreign office, 5–6, 95–7 heaven-and-earth societies, 139
Fort William, 61, 90, 118, 146–7, 153 Herder, 59
Four Books of Confucius, 72, 138, 144 Hevia, James L., 37, 42, 79
see also Confucius hieroglyphic writing, 19
France, 67, 123, 150, 154, 157 Himalayas, 112–16
Freemasons, 140 Hindi, 58, 153
free trade, see trade Hindu culture, 133
French, 36, 48, 75 Hinduism, 163
French Revolution, 6 histoire croisée, 9
Fu-k’ang-an, 114 history of man, natural, 7, 17, 130
Fukien, 97 Hodgson, Brian Houghton, 116–19
Fum, 32 Hogendorp, Dirk van, 131–3
Hokkien dialect, 142, 148, 158
Ganges, 73, 113, 161 Holland, 67
garden architecture, 22 Holland, Henry, 28
garden, Chinese, 24–5 Hong Kong, 58, 104, 188–9
Genghis Khan, 165 Hong Kong theological seminar, 189
genre-painting, 30 Hong merchants, 4, 46–9, 62–3, 84–7,
George III, 23, 36, 38, 61, 79 93, 100–1, 171, 179
George IV, 152 Hong system, 51, 83, 188
German, 192 Hoppo of Canton, 62
Germany, 150 Hottentots, 164
Gesub Rimboché, 109 Houses of Parliament, 181
Gibbon, 166 Humboldt, Wilhelm von, 156, 160
Gillespie, Robert, 132
Girardot, Norman J., 8, 10 India, 82, 90–1, 101–7, 116, 151, 160,
Goldsmith, William, 22 168, 175
gosein, 110 India Act, 35
gospel, 74 Indian agency houses, 85, 125
Gosport academy, 141, 146 Indian law, 51
Goulburn, Henry, 177 Indo-European language, 60
Governor of Canton, 55 Indo-Germanic languages, 151
Governor-General in India, 47 industrious Chinese, 127–8, 134, 136,
Greece, 16, 23, 146, 160 142, 181, 183
Greek, 58, 64, 118 informal imperialism, 172
Greek grammar, 20 Inglis, Robert, 181
Greenberg, Michael, 5, 92, 182 inhumanity, 54
Guignes, Louis Joseph, 155 international law, 53–6, 181, 184
258 Index
interpreter, 56 language, 2, 17–20, 56–63, 121,

Chinese, 40, 57 137–40, 145–8, 152–67
truthfulness, 39 original, 3, 19, 60
Irschick, Eugene, 10 universal, 3, 18–19, 26
Islam, 133 Lassar, Joannes, 118
Ismailov, 37, 42 Latin, 58
Latin-French Chinese dictionary, 155
Japanese pirates, 46 Latour, Bruno, 11
Jardine, 5, 83–4, 92–7, 175 law of the market, 172
Java, 120, 125–6, 130–6, 169 law of nations, 51–6
Jehol, 39, 42 Lawrence, William, 165
Jesuits laws and customs of China, 52
China image, 6, 28, 49, 55, 64, Layman, Captain, 128
98, 143 Lazzaronimen, 129
and Chinese religion, 64–5, 72–3 legal trade, 102
as interpreter, 39–40, 57, 61–2, 167 Legge, James, 8, 148
mission to China, 3, 10, 16, 39, 63–4 Leibniz, Gottfried, 17
reports, 7, 17, 26, 59, 71, 169, 183 letter to the Chinese Emperor, 39
Jiajing, 79–80 Leyden, John, 120–3, 141
Jones, William, 10, 39, 58–60, 64, Lhasa, 109–10, 115
139, 160–1 Liberalism, Liberals, 51, 172, 177
joss, 32 Lin, Commissioner, 99–103, 184, 186
Journal Asiatique, 156, 161 Lindsay, Hamilton, 97, 176, 179
Julien, Stanislas, 152 linguists, 39, 57
junk trade, 123, 125, 136 Lintin, 84
Liverpool, 173
Kames, Lord, 18 Liverpool, Lord, 177
Kathmandu, 114–16 LMS, 66
Kew, garden of, 23 Anglo-Chinese College Malacca,
Kidd, Samuel, 122, 148, 156 156, see also Anglo-Chinese
Kimber, Edward, 123 College
Kirkpatrick, Colonel, 112–13 Gosport academy, 141
Klaproth, Julius, 152, 155, 157–8, mission to China, 118, 141
161–3, 168, 178 mission to Southeast Asia, 96–7, 141
Knops, Johannes, 133 Morrison, 71, 73, 159, 169–70, see
Knox, Captain, 114 also Morrison
Kol, 117 Locke, John, 19
kongsi, 123, 127, 137, 139–40 London Missionary Society, see LMS
kowtow, 37–8, 41–2, 77–80
Macao, 4, 46, 75, 84, 97, 99, 103,
lacquers, 3, 21 118–19, 129, 141
Lady Hughes Affair, 36, 48, 50, 52, 55 Macartney embassy, 28, 34, 37, 40–3,
Lambert, David, 9 45, 182
Lancashire, 173 British self image, 191
Lancasterian system, 142–4 drawings (Alexander), 28–9, 33
landlords, Chinese, 135 interpreters, 39–40, 76
land reform, 131, 136 kowtow, 37, 41–2
land rent system, 133 scientific expedition, 36, 43–4
landscape garden, 24 Mackenzie, Colin, 88–9, 120, 122, 133
Index 259
Mackerras, C., 7 Missionary Chronicle, 70, 169

Madras, 106, 124, 133, 190 Moira, 114–15
Malacca, 120, 125–6, 129, 132, Molony, James, 49, 153
135–47, 154, 156, 170 Monboddo, Lord, 19, 20
Malayan Archipelago, 120 moneylenders, Chinese, 135
Malayan Strait, 142, 145 Mongolians, 109, 116–17, 165
Malthus, Thomas Robert, 84, 127 monopoly, see EIC
Manchester, 173 monosyllabic language, 165
Manchu, 40, 95–8, 105, 119, 137, 139, Montesquieu, 166
175, see also Qing moral philosophy, 167
Mandarin (linguistic), 121, 148, 158 Morrison Education Society, 99
Mandarins (admin.), 23, 38, 44, 80, Morrison, Robert, 60–3, 68–79,
97–8, 103, 105, 129, 176 96–9, 118, 121, 141–59,
Manning, Thomas, 60, 77, 107 169–71, 178
Marco Polo, 16 Morse, H. B., 6
Marshman, Joshua, 117–21 Mosambicans, 164
Martin, Robert Montgomery, 180 Moseley, William, 61, 66–7
Mason, George, 25, 28–31 Mughal empire, 31
massacre of Chinese in Batavia, 131 Mughal rule, 167
Matheson, 5, 83–4, 92–7, 175 Mughals, 40, 105, 175
Mauritius, 188 Munda, 117
M’Culloch, 84 Muntinghe, H. W., 131–2
Medhurst, William, 96, 148, 183–5 Muslim Arabs, 129
Melbourne government, 101, Mysore, battle of, 27, 120
104, 186
Mendosa, Conzalez de, 125 Nan yang Chinese, 130
merchants, see trade Napier, William John, 5, 91–6,
metropolis, 2, 8–9, 82, 150, 156, 173, 100, 103
175, 186 Napoleonic Wars, 5, 66, 75, 94–5,
Middle East, 191 106, 125
Mill, James, 83, 85, 167 Nash, John, 31
Milne, William, 60, 68–74, natural history of man, 17
139–48, 169 natural laws, 176–8
Ming, 51, 162 nature of mankind, 190
Minto, 118, 122, 129–32 naval forces, 90
missionaries, 50, 77, 103–4, 146 Nepal, 76, 106, 107–18
baptist, 117, 146 Nepalese war, 114–15
British, 74–5 Netherlands, 123, 125
and British expansion, 67 Netherlands Missionary Society, 96
Catholic, 40, 71, 76 networks, 8, 99, 150, 168, 174, 189
French, Portuguese, 36 Neumann, Karl, 162
and influence on the British Isles, Newar culture, 117
168, 183–5, 189 Nieuhoff, Jan, 123
Jesuit, 3, 39, 63, see also Jesuits north-eastern border, 107
protestant, 2, 58, 60, 64–6, 68–73,
84, 122, 136, 152 Oceania, 117
at Serampore, 117–18, 146 old corruption, 174
in Southeast Asia, 122, 126, opium, 4, 93, 101
139–45, 154 opium abuse, 137–40, 183–5
260 Index
opium import, 99 political economy, 84, 172

opium merchants, 99 political philosophy, 167
opium prohibition, 93, 99–101 Poor Law, 174
opium smuggling, 81, 92, 100, 102, porcelain, 2–3, 21–6, 149
184–5 Porter, David, 3, 7, 24, 26, 66
opium trade, 4–5, 54, 83–5, 90–3, Portuguese, 36, 75, 129, 141, 180
99–103, 176, 184–9 Pottinger, Henry, 188–9
Opium War, 1–5, 92–3, 101–5, 119, Pratt, Mary Louise, 11
152, 184–90 Prichard, James, 164
oriental despotism, 32 Prince Regent, 27–8, 31, 76, 104
orientalism, 8, 10, 27, 151, 191 Pritchard, Earl, 6
origin of civilisation, 168 prosecution of Roman Catholics, 169
orthodox mission in Beijing, 155 protestant missionaries, see under
Osborne, Alick, 128–9 missionaries
‘other’, 11–12, 23, 51, 72, 74, 132 providence, 52
outside merchants, 86 Prussia, 83
Overseas Chinese, 12, 106, 122–3, 126 Puankequa, 48
Purangir, 110
Pabst, Lawick van, 133
Pacific islanders, 171 Qianlong, 27, 32, 43, 80, 106,
Palmerston, Lord, 5, 94–6, 99–102, 110–12, 115
184–7 Qing, 36, see also Manchu
Panarukan, 134 Empire, 27, 41, 91, 106–7, 109, see
Panchen Lama, 108–12 also Chinese Empire
parliament, see British Parliament guest ritual, ceremony, 42, 79, see
Parsee, 4, 46, 86 also kowtow
patrimonial principle, 166 legal system, penal code, 51–3, 138
Pavilion, Royal, 31–3 trade restrictions, 1, 4, 46
Peel, Robert, 177 Quaker, 142
Penang, 120–6, 129, 132, 135–40, Qua, Pu, 30
144, 169 Quesnay, Francois, 3
Penny brothers, 22
peranakan society, 123 race, 163–4
Percy, Thomas, 19–20 racial characteristics, 161, 164–5
periphery, 2, 8–13, 58–9, 99, 141, Raffles, Thomas, 121–2, 125–6, 128,
150, 190 131–43, 150, 154
persecutions of Christianity, 71 Raja of Segwin, 114
Persian language, 58–9, 153 Reform Act, 177
Persian literature, 58 Reform Bill, 174, 181
Philippines, 124 Rémusat, Abel, 119, 152, 154–8, 168
philosopher king, 35 representative, see under Canton
physiognomy, 163–5 Repton, Humphry, 31
Pigot, Mr., 46 rights of women, 167
pin, 100 rites controversy, 17, see also Qing
Pindar, Peter, 27, 44 Roberts, William, 69
Pit, Han Tjan, 134 Robinson, George Best, 96,
Pitt, William, 35–7, 44 99–100, 103
Plowden, H. C., 86–8, 91, 94 Rothenbuhler, Frederick Jacob, 133–4
Plumb, Mr, 40, 76 Royal Asiatic Society, 151, 159–60, 174
Index 261
royal charter of justice, 138 South Eastern Islands, 124

Royal Pavilion, 28, 32–3, 104 Southey, Robert, 27
Russia South Sea Voyages, 36
activities in Asia, 36–8, 116, sovereignty, Chinese, 52, 180
119, 181 Spain, 123, 180
Catharina II, 38–9 Spence, Jonathan, 7
embassy to China, 37, 42, 78, 155 spring purification party, 100
Peter the Great, 37 stadial theory, 17, 19, 44
sinology, 155 Stanley, Brian, 66
trade connections, 116 Staunton, George, 29, 39, 113
ryotwar system, 133, 135 Staunton, George Thomas, 39, 45, 69,
76–81, 91, 150–6, 160, 166–7,
Sacy, Silvestre de, 155 181–4
Said, Edward, 10 Stepan, Nancy, 163
Sakhalin, 164 stereotypes, 30
salvation of mankind, 169 Strait magazines, 83
Sanskrit, 39, 58–60, 118, 151, 153 Straits of Malacca, 138–41
sati, 169, 171 Straits settlement, 138–40
satire, 32 see also Chinese immigration
Schlegel, Karl Wilhelm, 59 Sulu Archipelago, 124
Scott, Sir Walter, 120, 141 Supercargoes, 4, 52
secret societies, 139, 140 superintendent, 92, 96, 98, 100–3,
Sedan chairs, 88–90 182, 186
Select Committee, 46, 47, 50, 52–3, Szechuan, 116
62–3, 68–9, 76–7, 81–7, 96–7,
102, 153 Tamerlan, 165
self-image, British, 12, 32, 71, 113, Taoism, 64, 72, 110, 162, 168
142, 191 tapestrie, 23
Serampore, 117–18 Tartar, 40–1, 59, 80, 109, 111,
settlers, 126 175, 180
Shigatse, 112 Tashilhunpo, 112
shopmen, 84 Tassisudon, 109
Sikhs, 119, 148 Ta Tsing Leu Lee, 53
silk, 2–3, 16, 21–2, 26 tax farmers, Chinese, 135
silver bullion, 4, 26 Teignmouth, 1st Baron, 154
silver famine, 93 Thelwall, A. S., 184
Singapore, 120, 122, 125–6, 129, theories of mankind, 165
135–43, 188–90 Tibet, 13, 106–7, 109–10, 116
sinology, 148, 152–5, 158 Tibetan Buddhism, 109, 119
sinophilia, 6, 17, 168 Tientsin, 97
skin colour, 163, 165 Tiger of War, 29
skulls, 165 Tippu Sultan, 27, 39
slave revolts, 128 Toone, Francis, 77
Smith, Adam, 17, 83 Tories, 172, 177
Socrates, 3 trade
sojourners, 126 disruption, 57, 78, 86, 99, 103
South America, 164 free trade, 66, 77, 83–4, 126, 132,
Southeast Asia, 4, 60, 95–6, 105–6, 152, 171–8, 181, 185–6
121–9, 140, 148, 151, 169 monopoly, see under EIC
262 Index
trade – continued Viceroy, 52, 84, 86, 96, 100, 182

natural laws of, 174, 178 Vietnam, 106
opium trade, 54, 77, 83–5, 90–3, village system, 133, 135
99–103, 176, 184–7 VOC, see Vereenigde Oostindische
restrictions, 57, 173, 179, 185 Compagnie
with Southeast Asia, 123–6 Voltaire, 17
tea trade, 25–7, 36, 50, 83, 91–2,
101, 108, 173, 187
Warburton, William, 19–20
through Nepal, Tibet, 108, 110,
Wealth of nations, 17
116–17
Wellesley, Marquis of, 153
see also country trade
West Indies, 22, 129
trade commission, 99, 182
Whampoa, 86
Treaty of Nanjing, 104, 188
Wilberforce, William, 154
Treaty of Segauli, 115
triad riots, 140 Wilkins, John, 18
triad societies, 139 Winterbotham, William, 44
Tse-hsu, 100 women, 90
Turner, Samuel, 110 Wright, Matheson, 171
Ultra-Ganges Missionary Union, 73 Xinjiang, 106

Unitarians, 72 Xuehai Tang, 104
universal grammar, 157
University College London, 156
yi, 62–3, 191
university of Kazan, 155
Yuan, Ruan, Governor-General, 104
Utilitarianism, 51, 84, 167
Yuen Kih, 62
Vattel, Emmerich de, 51
Vereenigde Oostindische Compagnie, zemindari revenue system, 131
48, 131 Zorawar, 119

(Ulrike - Hillemann) - Asian Empire and British Knowledge

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(Ulrike - Hillemann) - Asian Empire and British Knowledge

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Cambridge Imperial and Post-Colonial Studies Series

General Editors: Megan Vaughan, Kings’ College, Cambridge and Richard

Cambridge Imperial and Post-Colonial Studies Series

I am grateful to the Arts and Humanities Research Council and the

months. My greatest debt is to my husband Richard Delaney. Not only

BFBS British and Foreign Bible Society

China had long enjoyed a mythical place as a prestigious civilisation

1.1 Britain and China – an overview

British relations with China were thus becoming intrinsically linked

stability to one for illegitimacy and interchangeability.31 He gives some

1.2 Methodological considerations

role of migrants in transferring ideas from one community to another.

than a mere imposition of a European discourse on India, which aimed

second chapter studies the ‘contact zone’ in Canton closely, including

China had long occupied European imagination as a faraway, myste-

2.1 The origin of language

their huge internal market. Only by way of a substantial extension of

ideas of the immaterial soul without influencing them. In the 18th

10.1057/9780230246751 - Asian Empire and British Knowledge, Ulrike Hillemann

a major contribution to the ongoing discussion about the origin of

concept of the language of art, it is highly probable that he also tried to

2.2 Chinese style and British taste

foreignness and exoticism, despite being produced mainly in Britain or

Of late, ’tis true, quite sick of Rome and Greece

With Indian and Chinese subjects greater Liberties may be taken,

This association with meaningless signs probably made Chinoiserie

His royal mind, whene’er from state withdrawn,

If these observations are rightly founded, what shall we say of the

purely bullionist fears. It culminated in the parliamentary enquiry into

2.3 A Chinese court at Brighton

appropriation of the Indian monarch was however only one material

exhibited as a special attraction of a ‘Chinese exhibition’, where ‘gen-

Pavilion were short-lived. This Chinoiserie meaning of China remained

3.1 A diplomatic expedition

The Macartney embassy holds a prominent place in reflections about

position. He was eminent in shaping the government’s Asia policy in

context of Chinese entry restrictions, a mission to the Chinese Emperor

We therefore almost entirely depend on the good faith and good-

However, Macartney’s attitude to the kowtow was also a consequence

two countries, could proceed. However, a ceremony, such as this audi-

and pocket instruments. The chief Mandarin of the Emperor’s orchestra

3.2 Chinese law and British rights

country traders, increasing in number, but still no more than 53 private

dispute between Britons and Chinese, especially where country traders

Hongs, in the hope to avoid their bankruptcy. To justify this to them-

that the President might be requested to consider Coqua in the

Of course, the idea of Chinese despotism was already widespread at

The disposition to depress Foreigners by the most vexatious conduct

3.3 The unreliable interpreter

administration in the colonial setting, and the adaptation and appropri-

and timid interpreters were responsible for a good amount of the

acceptance of Chinese standards in official correspondence, which had

an offensive word like that to describe someone, one considered him as

3.4 A barren land

The religions of China had figured dominantly in European ideas about

The many fruitless embassies from Holland, France, Russia and

When Robert Morrison, the first Protestant missionary, arrived in Can-

With the EIC, Morrison found an arrangement thanks to his interest

persecutions of Christianity by the Chinese Empire180 and partly because

Yours is a happy land. It abounds with all the means of instruction,

practiced. Accordingly, they had no interest in understanding any

For, notwithstanding that various attempts had been made, in differ-

Morrison compared China with a ‘barren land’, a ‘desert’ in contrast